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When the Bulwark Breaks
Tue Feb 06, 2018 4:11 pm
It cannot be said that he was loyal to the demons his entire time. Verathius had departed Shadow's Fall sometime ago. Not to do anything really as he left. It was at this moment he discovered something itching in his mind. His body had been fine changing and Kurama had been helpful. But the fox's words seemed to ade more and more into obscurity as the two reunited into a singular being. He felt his spiritual pressure increasing with each passing second. The ground beneath him the sand began turning into glass shards. The heat he was giving off was that of an impressive level. Capable of causing a small portion of damage in the long run. Verathius knew the situation and score as he glanced at the Segunda mark. This wasn't real nor was any accomplishments he performed. His crimson eyes narrowed a bit at the situation. The Hollows were becoming an afterthought behind the demon people. Soon they'd been forgotten in the shuffle. Time wasn't kind in this respect as the Iramasha on K-World and Shadowfall's Demons.
Were they not meant to be equals in this situation. Verathius's frown merely grew as his crimson hair blew in the breeze. Moonie had once brought him out of such a loyalty. Perhaps it was the time he began thinking about his people's needs. What did Ashlei and Rose do about this situation? Their people had fallen far from the ranks of promise and being elite. No, now at this point they were in a different phase. His eyes glanced upwards. Tribal Ressurection, he could do it now without any issues. That much was clear but it wasn't time yet for him. The moment wasn't clear yet. But something was bubbling under the surface that had him considering something. Verathius wanted to see the Organization he worked for knocked down a peg. His crimson gaze lingered across the area. It wasn't enough yet in the long run as he felt something attempt to pierce his back. A blade struck his skin doing little as he turned around. His crimson gaze falling on a demon who was in a strange position.
Reiatsu came from him like a beacon as he grabbed the blade turning around. The metal began cracking as his hand wrapped around it tighter. The figure was obviously concerned as his hair blew in the breeze. He said nothing as the male had no time to react. He used a jab and sent the creature flying through the sands without remorse. Verathius still held the weapon before breaking it fully. His steps came slowly as he walked towards the Demon. Crimson colored reiatsu dripped with a murderous intent. Demonic spells were flung left and right but a trigger had been pulled. Verathius wasn't in the mood to forgive and forget in his turf. This was an attempt on his life, thankfully this weak small fry did nothing. But annoy and bring about his own doom. As the creature ran at him he backhanded the man's head off his shoulders. Verathius was done withholding his strength for this. This damn world and its people could deal with the ramifications of it. His hand lowered covered in blood as the body fell.
His eyes narrowed seeing a regeneration, be encased the male in a cero as his hand hovered over it. A massive blast fired outwards destroying some dunes as his hand lowered. His gaze narrowed to the Segunda symbol on his hand. Pondering burning it off at this point as the area trembled a bit more. He'd always been the Bulwark, but he was done with this nonsense. Demons never seemed thankful and after this. It became clear a member of that court didn't like his attitude. He wasn't some sheep that would sit still and watch everything burn. His lips let a sigh escape them. His reiatsu slowly came down as he glanced back now considering something. Had there been more than one it wouldn't of likely mattered. He'd of simply destroyed them without remorse as well. He was in no mood for the levels of bullshit he was encountering any longer. Perhaps he'd sit here and cool off for a while. Quietly he considered his situation for a while. How many hollows and Arrancar were left in this world. With the prowess to do anything as he pondered Nagato's fate more and more.
Were they not meant to be equals in this situation. Verathius's frown merely grew as his crimson hair blew in the breeze. Moonie had once brought him out of such a loyalty. Perhaps it was the time he began thinking about his people's needs. What did Ashlei and Rose do about this situation? Their people had fallen far from the ranks of promise and being elite. No, now at this point they were in a different phase. His eyes glanced upwards. Tribal Ressurection, he could do it now without any issues. That much was clear but it wasn't time yet for him. The moment wasn't clear yet. But something was bubbling under the surface that had him considering something. Verathius wanted to see the Organization he worked for knocked down a peg. His crimson gaze lingered across the area. It wasn't enough yet in the long run as he felt something attempt to pierce his back. A blade struck his skin doing little as he turned around. His crimson gaze falling on a demon who was in a strange position.
Reiatsu came from him like a beacon as he grabbed the blade turning around. The metal began cracking as his hand wrapped around it tighter. The figure was obviously concerned as his hair blew in the breeze. He said nothing as the male had no time to react. He used a jab and sent the creature flying through the sands without remorse. Verathius still held the weapon before breaking it fully. His steps came slowly as he walked towards the Demon. Crimson colored reiatsu dripped with a murderous intent. Demonic spells were flung left and right but a trigger had been pulled. Verathius wasn't in the mood to forgive and forget in his turf. This was an attempt on his life, thankfully this weak small fry did nothing. But annoy and bring about his own doom. As the creature ran at him he backhanded the man's head off his shoulders. Verathius was done withholding his strength for this. This damn world and its people could deal with the ramifications of it. His hand lowered covered in blood as the body fell.
His eyes narrowed seeing a regeneration, be encased the male in a cero as his hand hovered over it. A massive blast fired outwards destroying some dunes as his hand lowered. His gaze narrowed to the Segunda symbol on his hand. Pondering burning it off at this point as the area trembled a bit more. He'd always been the Bulwark, but he was done with this nonsense. Demons never seemed thankful and after this. It became clear a member of that court didn't like his attitude. He wasn't some sheep that would sit still and watch everything burn. His lips let a sigh escape them. His reiatsu slowly came down as he glanced back now considering something. Had there been more than one it wouldn't of likely mattered. He'd of simply destroyed them without remorse as well. He was in no mood for the levels of bullshit he was encountering any longer. Perhaps he'd sit here and cool off for a while. Quietly he considered his situation for a while. How many hollows and Arrancar were left in this world. With the prowess to do anything as he pondered Nagato's fate more and more.
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Re: When the Bulwark Breaks
Tue Feb 06, 2018 9:16 pm
“Ant’s will continue to writhe, crawling across the dirt at the behest of their queen.”
A sonorous voice boomed with it’s gravelly undercurrents across the sands to hueco mundo, a veritable sea of spiritual energy stirring up a storm of sand across the landscape for as far as the eye could see. Demons would soon find--they have no place here. This land of sand and desolation was not their home; it was their grave. Without a whimper, without a scream they would be crushed, ground to paste by the pressure that bore upon them; shattered under the weight of an infinitely more powerful being.
A gleaming gold-yellow eye pierced the storm, it radiated power; majesty and above all--domination. This eye demanded that all bow to it, that all be subservient to the might that lay behind it. There was no question that the being that this eye belonged too was far beyond comprehension. An elderly man, who radiated power walked forth from the midst of the storm which howled and ran rampant around them. Each step silent, but reverberating like an earthquake across the sands.
There was no need to ask, no need to question why this man was here. It was very simple, because Barragan was a ruler, he was recognised as the god-king of hueco mundo in era’s long forgotten. An predatory existence at the apex, a monster that thought very little of those he crushed underfoot, likening them to the insectoid existences that in his eyes they deserved to be.
In his palm lay the handle to a mighty battle-axe, a gleaming red orb like eye glistening in the center. That eye spoke of violence, as if it was the personification of the malice accrued over the centuries by those who had been slain mercilessly under it’s sharpened edge. Now, that axe lay resting upon the former Segunda Etapa’s shoulder, only shifting once which was to face in Verathius’s direction. Baraggan held the axe aloft, and kept it facing in his direction as soon his voice once more blasted the realm around them. Power, and dominance all wrapped within a towering arrogance permeating the landscape with every word spoken.
“Filthy Mongrels, invading MY lands, holding My throne.”
His words held contempt, but blatant rage even now at these demons. There was no coexistance here, only one would come out on top. Thus as barragan sized up the man before him he spoke once, and once only.
” You, what relationship do you have with this. . Filth?-- Tell me.”
This was not a question, it was almost demanded of verathius that he answered. That’s just the kind of guy barragan is.
A sonorous voice boomed with it’s gravelly undercurrents across the sands to hueco mundo, a veritable sea of spiritual energy stirring up a storm of sand across the landscape for as far as the eye could see. Demons would soon find--they have no place here. This land of sand and desolation was not their home; it was their grave. Without a whimper, without a scream they would be crushed, ground to paste by the pressure that bore upon them; shattered under the weight of an infinitely more powerful being.
A gleaming gold-yellow eye pierced the storm, it radiated power; majesty and above all--domination. This eye demanded that all bow to it, that all be subservient to the might that lay behind it. There was no question that the being that this eye belonged too was far beyond comprehension. An elderly man, who radiated power walked forth from the midst of the storm which howled and ran rampant around them. Each step silent, but reverberating like an earthquake across the sands.
There was no need to ask, no need to question why this man was here. It was very simple, because Barragan was a ruler, he was recognised as the god-king of hueco mundo in era’s long forgotten. An predatory existence at the apex, a monster that thought very little of those he crushed underfoot, likening them to the insectoid existences that in his eyes they deserved to be.
In his palm lay the handle to a mighty battle-axe, a gleaming red orb like eye glistening in the center. That eye spoke of violence, as if it was the personification of the malice accrued over the centuries by those who had been slain mercilessly under it’s sharpened edge. Now, that axe lay resting upon the former Segunda Etapa’s shoulder, only shifting once which was to face in Verathius’s direction. Baraggan held the axe aloft, and kept it facing in his direction as soon his voice once more blasted the realm around them. Power, and dominance all wrapped within a towering arrogance permeating the landscape with every word spoken.
“Filthy Mongrels, invading MY lands, holding My throne.”
His words held contempt, but blatant rage even now at these demons. There was no coexistance here, only one would come out on top. Thus as barragan sized up the man before him he spoke once, and once only.
” You, what relationship do you have with this. . Filth?-- Tell me.”
This was not a question, it was almost demanded of verathius that he answered. That’s just the kind of guy barragan is.
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