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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 1, 2013 17:59:28 GMT -5
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I am finally done with my teachings...I can finally let go.... Ezekiel had been comfortable physically but not so much emotionally, he had not been able to get through to someone with the truth. He had been so scarred for the past couple centuries and needed to stop his expression of wisdom. He tried so hard to get Kiyameru to believe him and to get Shen's child eyes to see what went on in the worlds. but no. It was impossible to pierce either of their heads, seems natural that people have hard skulls. As the plane approached one of New York's airport landing strips, he had prepared to leave the plane so he could return home. He had done this many, many times before without being questioned. He had unboarded the plane, retrieved his luggage and met with his wife and kids.
He proceeded to drive home, his luggage in the trunk of the car. A life-saver, his phone, had blessed him with an 'urgent' call from his fellow employee at his company and best friend. Ezekiel was dropped off at his office but after his family was out of site, his friend had given him the clear as he head for the pub. "Ugh...She's tugging on my mind and heart..." he spoke quietly to himself, regarding his weakening mental state and attempt at keeping up his facade. As he made his way to the pub, he contemplated the next time he fought. He just wanted to slither his blade across flesh, tearing it so smoothly and cleanly like a violent resonance. As he got carried away, he unconsciously started smiling devilishly.
People began staring and he just took a detour, his zanpakuto strapped to his side. No one could see or feel it, no one possessing the sense to even know it exists through any means. In his detour, he found a couple gangsters and stared at them, hands in his pockets. His top hat was on his head at the time, his twisted expression catching their attention. "Hey? The fuck you think you're doing? Look at this mother-fucker. Some gray nigga staring at us like some homo freak." Ezekiel had heard enough and exited his gigai, the group of gangsters freaking out he just collapsed seemingly. Ezekiel, in one swift movement, used shunpo to cross two of their paths, one slash barely skimming both throats. The force of the quick slash after unsheathing caused slow slits to form across their throats.
Without the power of spiritual energy, their skin was like paper for the edge of his zanpakuto. He sheathed his blade, watching the remaining 3 collapsing in awe. Ezekiel decided to just crush them with his reiatsu, the gravity increase cracking bones. They had no perception but was obviously no match for his bone-crushing pressure. He made his way for his gigai, aiming towards the group of people after sheathing blade and extending his arm. "Hado No. 1: Sho." he repeated the hado three times, crushing the skulls of the very weak humans and causing their brains to splatter across the ground. Entering his gigai, he left the alley, no attention coming from anyone outside the alley until it was too late. He made his way for the usual pub once more, perfectly anonymous. He was a perfect orchestrator of chaos, a perfect set-up story for those spiritually aware and intelligent to convince that he did it out of justice.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 2, 2013 10:22:54 GMT -5
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New York. Thurstan liked New York, the city at least. It reminded him of his inner world, in fact, he was pretty sure that it was his inner world. He didn’t much care for the people though. They were plain and boring for the most part, even the artists were predictable. No matter how he felt about the city, though, the visored was here. He smiled as he stepped off of the train at Central Station. The ride from DC had been reasonably pleasant. He’d slept for most of the three hour trip and woke with a sore shoulder from his weight being set against the window of the car.
His hands were tucked away in the pockets of his jacket while his head and shoulders were held high. It smelled like rain, and when he took his first step into New York after 13 long years, he looked up and saw the sky was thick with dark clouds. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it rained today. He tugged his left hand from its pocket and raised his wrist towards his face. 8:26. He smiled to himself because he knew that there was plenty to be done in New York City.
As Thurstan started to make his way down the street, through the crowds of people that passed him by, he couldn’t help but notice a powerful flair of reiatsu in the distance that faded as quickly as it had appeared. He was in his gigai, so there wasn’t much he could do about it without people freaking out at the lifeless body he’d leave lying in the dirt. So, he deemed the wiser decision would be to slowly make his way towards the energy signature while he let off a signal of his own. The reiatsu was another visored, so similar to a shinigami, but at the same time, there was something slightly off about the aura.
Thurstan flaired his own reiatsu, aiming it upward as he moved in order to prevent the civilians all around him from feeling the weight. Still, he couldn’t help but notice people beginning to stumble.
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 2, 2013 11:17:45 GMT -5
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Ezekiel noticed the signaling reiatsu, smiling as it was clearly another visored. He opened his eyes and for a brief moment, the black shifted in and his irises were yellow. In a blink they were back to normal and he just waited for the beacon of a visored to get closer. Leaning against a window, he stopped moving towards the pub. Finally when the man neared, he threw on a different composure. A composure that made him seem light-hearted, a good man's expression. He crossed his arms and let his zanpakuto rest against the window frame as the man finally got near. "You know. It's not good to put yourself out there like that." he said with a sagely tone. He didn't seem twisted in expression except for his skin color and scars.
Ezekiel actually looked like a warm people, welcoming with his words. But in honesty, a blade quickly through the throat of the man in front of him would just end the problem quickly before it even arises. Yeah he was quite the distance away from the dead bodies but he was obviously in the clear. He was curious if the man was going to question him about the murder or if they were going to enter a friendly conversation. Ugh. I am trying to go to the pub. he was impatient but didn't show it.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 2, 2013 11:46:29 GMT -5
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Thurstan paused for a moment and snapped his pupils to his right. There, leaning against the window of a jewelry store, was a man with grey skin and scars across his forehead. He looked the man over before following up with the rest of his head, now exposing his whole face to the man. This was the visored he was looking for. He seemed so calm and collected, warm and inviting. It was a nice feeling to see someone like that among the many cold and selfish people that travelled these streets on a daily basis. He dropped his reiatsu signal and turned towards the man, keeping his hands in his pocket.
“I could say the same to you.” Thurtsan smiled and began exerting his reiatsu differently, expressing the emotion of calm and comfort. He could feel the tension about him dropping, making the tense office workers relax there shoulder briefly as they passed him, only to tighten up again when they escaped the range of his influence, which wasn’t all that far when he was doing this, maybe a hundred feet at maximum. Still, he was glad he could help people around him for at least a brief moment in time.
He lifted his right hand from his pocket and held it out to the kindly stranger, only to have a droplet of water crash onto his thumb. “The name’s Trace. Nice to meet you.”
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 2, 2013 12:17:16 GMT -5
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Ezekiel smiled and made a few steps forward, meeting Trace's hand with his, shaking it. Rain drops began falling, sorrow for the dead it seemed. When death happened, only rain followed sometimes. He was wondering how easily his mask of persuasion was successful. He withdrew his hand and beckoned the fellow visored to follow him. "Let's go for a drink. We can talk more at the pub. So, what brings you to New York?" he said, waiting for Trace to walk with him. He wanted to make sure he had trust from the man so if he needed, he could strike him down. "Ezekiel. That's my name. Ezekiel Hibana." he smiled and nodded, expressing his invitation.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 2, 2013 15:14:43 GMT -5
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A pleasant smile set itself upon Thurstan’s face. Who’d have guessed that he could make an acquaintance so quickly in this massive city. He reached back and scratched his head before looking up the street in the direction he was going. Perhaps Times Square could wait. The visored turned back to the grey-skinned man. “Alright, I could go for a drink.” As Thurstan made way to keep pace with Ezekiel, he continued. “It’s been a good thirteen years since I last came to New York, just thought I’d stop by and enjoy the sights for a few days.”
This guy was pleasant enough. His skin and scars were a tad menacing, but Trace didn’t judge. He simply continued to release his reiatsu in that comforting manner, altering the wavelengths and levels to adjust the feeling that he gave off.
“And what about you? What brings you to New York this time around?” He was curious, after all, why a man with grey skin would want to be in a place like this with so many people. A smaller town would certainly be more excepting of his unique complexion. Although, a place like this, the people might just be too ignorant and self-centered to even notice. A small town could be worse, too, if they don’t happen to be excepting of new folk. Thurstan also began to wonder at how the man had gotten those scars on his face. They were strange, not much like old wounds, but rather similar to tattoos. Perhaps he tortured at some point in his life, or maybe they were just strange birthmarks.
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 3, 2013 4:15:04 GMT -5
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Ezekiel walked alongside Trace, thinking about asking him about the war two hundred years ago. But he waited to get some truth serum into him first at the pub. As he walked along side his acquiantance, he resonated his reiatsu with the man easily. There was a silence before he actually answered. "I live here. Yeah, snuck back into humanity. Always out on business so people don't notice my amazing complexion. Ha." they neared the pub and on the inside, Ezekiel could only find humor on the existing strings connected to Trace's joints metaphorically. He had him in his hand at the moment. Ezekiel sighed, frustrated at the thought of his family. "So, I'm in my 230's, you?" he asked about the man's age randomly but he knew that out of all of his power at a young age he needed to know if he outmatched the man.
To outmatch the man he was fooling would be essential to not having to worry if the man every formed a link that needed to be broken. They had approached the pub and Ezekiel stopped. "Before we enter the pub. Every shinigami was part of the war. What was your role?" he didn't look at Trace, but was curious as to what the man did in the war. Like fellow veterans just now meeting each other it seemed. But his blade was held tightly. "My role was watching the devil's fire consume my quincy mother." he said, his facade mixed with truth to create a harmony of trickery.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 3, 2013 12:12:59 GMT -5
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Thurstan’s lips arced slightly at Ezekiel’s mention of his own complexion. At least the guy wasn’t ashamed of his situation. He seemed to have accepted it and probably used humor as a means to adjust or take his mind off the fact that he was literally the color grey. “Nice to know that you’re not worried about being judged, and, don’t worry. I’m not one to pass judgment based on appearance. You seem nice enough.” Thurstan just continued to follow the man, not really having much else to do thanks to his incredibly flexible schedule. He was just here to visit after all, and making friends generally happened to be part of enjoying oneself.
“To answer your question, I’m three-hundred and eighty six. You’re pretty young for a visored, you know that? I don’t know many of our type as young as you.” They stopped at the short stairway that lead down to the pub entrance from the sidewalk. Thurstan took a second to examine the door. It was a plain dark green and was set with a 4-square design. It was a little dull, but there was enough noise coming from inside that the place seemed to hold the prospect of entertainment. Then, out of nowhere, Ezekiel asked about the war and mentioned watching his quincy mother die.
Archangel froze up. Now was a time to start judging people. Where the hell had that question come from, and the way he so darkly mentioned his mother’s death. They’d just met and he was already being depressing? That usually didn’t start until they’d at least had a couple drinks together. Nonetheless, bringing up the Quincy war, if it could be called a war, more like the Quincy holocaust, made Thurstan’s mood drop to a low. With it, his reiatsu fell too. The wavelengths altered again, and the feeling of comfort faded into a feeling of sorrow and regret. Everyone around him would feel this and their emotions would change to match it. At least, the humans would.
“Honestly, man, I’d rather not talk about the war. I’m sorry about your mother. Believe me, I did all I could to protect your people, but one guy can only do so much.”
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 3, 2013 15:20:52 GMT -5
Ezekiel smiled and looked over at Trace, looking none-too-worried about the gravity of the area all of a sudden. It wasn't common to meet another visored, it was rather difficult to. So he quickly made an apologetic expression out of the fact he had probably ruined the guy's day. Yeah, he was getting into character quite easily now, getting into the mode and letting the facade to sink into his mind set and take over. "Don't worry. At least you knew who was the enemy before I did...Besides, it's hard meeting a visored. We all have our stories. I'm a story teller with some Killians." he smiled, trying to lighten the mood before opening the pub door and waiting for Trace to enter.
It was true, facade or not, to easily meet with another visored. Do they agree with the Gotei? What is their story? How did they end up a visored? Questions. Questions. Questions. But Ezekiel wanted to keep Trace in the palm of his hand, so he had to just keep playing along. "Also...By complexion...I was referring to, you know, the fact we age like a snail." he said, chuckling at Trace for what he thought was a misunderstanding.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 3, 2013 18:40:51 GMT -5
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Thurstan hadn’t realized he was still releasing his emotional reiatsu. It tended to shift with his feelings if he wasn’t careful. He pulled it back, adjusting it and letting it flow at a normal level. He had no reason to hide it, but he wasn’t going to blast it everywhere anymore. His shoulders fixed themselves and his posture adjusted to its natural noble state. He smiled and tried to shrug off the bad memories of all the quincy he couldn’t save, including the only girl he ever thought he’d really loved. It was so long ago, but the memories were vivid enough. Unlike the others that started to drift away over time, he remembered these likely because they had so much to do with the person he is today.
The visored smiled at the comment brought up by his kin. “I suppose you’re right; it is difficult meeting others like us.” He still felt a little sullen, but he took his metaphorical hands and brushed the dirt from his emotional knees. He couldn’t afford to feel shitty today, he had come to enjoy himself, after all. I just hope I can maintain my composure after I’ve had a bit to drink. Don’t wanna let this get to me. He smiled at the man, now showing no sign that he was at all unhappy.
Then his expression went blank and his cheeks flushed a little. He wasn’t usually bad when it came to social interactions and wasn’t one to blunder easily, but when Ezekiel corrected him on his assumptions Trace couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. He laughed as a reaction, to try and ignore his own embarrassment. Reaching up and scratching the back of his head, he spouted jokingly. “Yeah, I guess we do age like snails. I’m really sorry if I offended you, I didn’t mean anything by it I just...” He stopped, realizing that he was started to talk incessant nonsense. He lowered his hand and let his vocal chords relax, letting him speak in his usual calm and friendly tone. “Alright, my bad. Why don’t we go inside and get a drink? That’s what we’re here for, right?”
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 3, 2013 21:23:38 GMT -5
Trace kept taking the bait but it wasn't hard when Ezekiel was like a master manipulator of his emotions, expressions, thoughts, personality in general. As they entered the pub, he yelled out to a man behind the bar, aged and balding. The Italian look with quite a bit of meat to him. "Killian's, Michael." the bartender and a group of other people waving and in unison, chanting 'Zeke! Zeke!' as his glass was filled to the brim. He took a seemingly usual spot and beckoned the others to bugger off. "Hey Zeky! How's the wife doing?" Ezekiel laughed and waved at the man whom he referred to as Michael. "You know the same old thing. No alcohol in the house. Can't go around our kid's school. Bad enough he's made fun of because he has skin like me." he shook his head, remarking on his odd skin tone.
Ezekiel took a few sips from his beer and waited for Trace to order something before continuing their conversation. "This guy here. He's actually a human who can sense spirits. Once walked in here out of curiosity outside my gigai, he noticed me. So we can talk still." he said before returning to his Killian's.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 4, 2013 14:54:39 GMT -5
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Trace marveled at the way the whole bar appraised Ezekiel for simply walking into the room. He suddenly felt less like a guest in this city and more like the new kid at school again. He didn’t particularly like the feeling, but he ignored it rather easily. It wasn’t enough to make him truly uncomfortable. Something like that was always hard to accomplish, especially after several hundred years of social experience.
They bartender called the grey-skinned man Zeky. Well, I suppose that’s no worse that Tracy or Tracers. It was sad to hear that Ezekiel couldn’t even go near his child’s school without making his son’s life worse. The skin was bad enough, apparently, and even a place as densely populated as this wouldn’t keep someone from being noticed. He couldn’t understand why Ezekiel would continue to live here if his son was being bullied. Trace’s thoughts brought him back to the idea of living in a small town where there weren’t enough kids for clicks to form. It certainly would’ve been better.
Thurstan took a seat next to Ezekiel and ordered a Black and Tan, his usual whenever he didn’t think the situation was right for a coffee/vodka drink. “That’s great,” Thurstan replied at Zeke’s mention of the spiritually aware human, “It’s nice to meet you.” He held his hand out over the counter. “The name’s Trace.”
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 4, 2013 16:59:56 GMT -5
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Michael nodded at Trace with a warm smile, quickly giving him his drink with little to no mess Ezekiel was a fourth way done with his drink before he let out a large sigh. The kind of sigh made after drinking something refreshing, and he tilted his head back, remembering the demons in his past. The killing. The brutal killing, it felt as if he was slaughtering his family over and over again. When he watched his Maina Junin tear quincy limb from limb...It was a slaughter. The black figures sprouting from the ground and sinking axes and sword into white-clothed bodies. It was horrendous. But that was when he had a heart. When he wasn't evil, and he actually cared about the Gotei. Now, it was different. He was a different man. He hated the Gotei...He hated their leader mostly.
One Ezekiel focused on the then and now once again, he turned to Trace and chuckled after he thought about something. "You know. The monotheistics. How do you think they are going to react when they learn their god isn't real? I can only imagine their faces. Wow, that's kind of sick to think about really. But then again, everyone has probably thought about it." he said, chuckling after referring to the soul society. But then he shrugged, assuming the Soul King could be an excuse to be a god. "I mean there is the Soul King but the point is, they will learn and have to dwell for the next few centuries how their religion was wrong. Ha! Imagine some of the Templar's faces when they found out they killed for no reason!" Ezekiel started laughing and Michael joined him after listening.
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Post by Arwyr o Afalon on Aug 6, 2013 21:51:57 GMT -5
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Trace had thought about the statement for quite some time. There were plenty of possibilities. He’d been a believer when he died. He was a full fledged catholic. Yet, the aspect of God never really escaped him in the SS. Even most of the Shinigami referred to God as a singular all creating being. Somebody must have created the whole cycle and all the worlds. It wasn’t like the Shinigami or even the soul king could have created the world and Hueco Mundo and even Hell. Still, there had to be some kind of God.
Thurstan remembered hearing that Aizen often talked about being even stronger than God. Trace had also heard about the human girl that revert reality and counter even the creation of God himself. It was an interesting idea and a heavy topic that had a lot of meat behind it. “I dunno.” he said, finally, “I guess that makes some sense. But then they’ll wonder who made the SS and Hueco Mundo and Hell, I mean, how do you explain that stuff? That sure as hell isn’t aliens.”
“I mean, even the Quincy believe they were given those powers by God, right?” Thurstan took another swig of his beer.
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Post by Ezekiel Hibana on Aug 6, 2013 22:26:22 GMT -5
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Ezekiel was quite amused by the conversation, because facade or not it was a funny bit of realism. The people they prayed to is not even the real one if the Soul King would be considered god at all. He took a drink of his Killian's as he listened to Trace. He laughed after mention of aliens. "Holy shit it's AAAliens!! Wow, that would be a site. Plus how hollow can make it look like a U.F.O right? Yeah...The Quincy know it isn't god anymore, they aren't ignorant like they were. Everyone learns some day. The point is is that it isn't THEIR god. And all that oppression they had given was for nothing." Ezekiel found humor not because they oppressed but because they had failed themselves.
He had almost finished his glass of Killian's and wondered how Trace had been doing with his own. "So, I'll make you a deal. We all have our stories of why we ended up this way. I'll give you mine if you give me your's." he tipped his glass in Trace's direction, waiting for an answer.
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