04-02-2018, 05:57 PM
Serraph would awake to the raging sun beaming its vengeful light upon Serraph's frail body. His top layer of "Skin" had already began to dry and flake away and his body had become stiff from the awkward position he had spent his night upon. He'd rub his eyes lazily, the color of his eyes returned to a steel grey. He hadn't slept in so long that finally doing so left his body numb and slow to act. He'd let off a soft yawn and raise himself upright upon the former Octava's deceased body. He'd pick up the body's decapitated head and raised it level with his own.
"I shouldn't be so reckless...", he'd mutter in complaint, his thumbs moving over to close the dead man's eyes. The night and the moon's light had gotten to him. Had it not he would have probably approached the whole ordeal in a more thoughtful manner. The result would change very slightly, but it wouldn't have resulted in a near death. Serraph's chain of questions during the night had a more darker essence to them, such so that it made him shiver when thinking about it. He'd shake his head at the the other and set it down softly upon its owner's chest before standing and holding out an outstretched hand.
Like the day prior, a pale umbrella with an hooked oak handle would be created in the palm of his left hand. Bringing it into this world was hardly difficult and took very little time to perform. Soon he had a perfect shield to deflect the sun's assault on Serraph's weak skin. Perfect. He'd hide beneath the veil, concealing his body from the sun. The Arrancar boy would shudder, a phantom pain stabbing at his chest. His free hand would move up to press at the would, finding the tightly wound mass of clothing scraps covering the injury beneath. He remembered scrapping the temporary bandage together but covering himself was something he couldn't recall. Serraph would frown, his free hand clenching itself into a tight fist by his side. This was most worrisome to him. A large portion of his body's anatomy was dedicated to recording his senses, experiments, and thoughts. It was rare for him not to be able to remember a certain event from his life.
He'd turn towards the camp, the twenty or so hollows standing vigil over the encampment. To his surprise, the prisoners had been freed. Not a single Hollow was missing from his memory and all stood by comfortably among the civilians. Very few of the people engaged the creatures in conversation but there were a few occurrences, likely for arrangements to obtain necessities such as food and water. It was likely there weren't much around. The fire itself had burnt out, a small pillar of smoke rising into the cloudless sky. The crowd was restless. They all just wanted to return to their homes and lives.
Serraph sympathized completely.
To that end, there was something he must do. He turned to face the crowd his arm raised up in greeting to them all. They all saw what he did the night prior so naturally they hushed and gave him their attention.
"Soon I will see to your home with relative safety, but before then I must win your trust.", He'd turn and walk horizontally from the crowd, his hand waving in synce with each syllable he spoke as if orchestrating something great, something fantastic. "You all have suffered a great crime. I have killed the man responsible but as custom to the particular challenge I bestowed upon him, I have taken his name and his vows onto my own. This name, this.. Serraph is as tarnished as my skin, my clothing." He'd gesture at the ink that had soaked into his bleach white skin and the various platters of blood that spotted him. "I have also inherited his followers, whose actions I am responsible for."
Serraph would turn towards the group of some twenty hollows and motioned them forward. They'd look to each other puzzled but would hesitantly approached. Serraph would halt them and line them up one by one perpendicular to the mass of civilians. They all needed to see what was about to happen. He'd approach the first one, a hulking brute of a hollow with a huge gut. There was no doubt he'd had his own fair share of meals. Serraph would draw his tainted blade, his calm face forming a slight frown.
"Kneel", he'd commanded, and the hulking being obeyed, the sand beneath him quaking as he fell. Serraph would rest the flat of the blade against the beast's neck, its edge pressing firmly into his neck. "Remove your mask."
The other hollows recoiled at the command, their heads snapping in his direction. Surely they thought this command mad. Such a command could be considered a death sentence. The glutton did his best not to seem fazed by the command, but he knew the amount of fear he must be feeling. Still though, his thick, meaty hand reached over his rigid, bony mask its digit curling around its edges. He'd exhale deeply, no doubt to calm his nerves and pull.
The civilian crowd would wince almost in unison as the Hollow let lose an unearthly cry. Its mask cracked and crumbled, green sparks of energy sparking beneath. Serraph removed his blade from the beings shoulder and took a step back. The being became enveloped in a ghastly green glow, his form shrinking down to what would consider a more human shape. The glow would dim, leaving a rather chunky man in its place, who'd fall face first into the sand.
Serraph would summon a rather simple, khaki robe over the figure and tap him softly atop the head. He'd smile, proud to see how willing he was to discard his monstrous nature for a bit more humanity.
He'd move his way down the line, repeating each step until everyone had removed. Only three had managed to evolve beyond the normal Hollow. The others were not so lucky. They'd die in a cloud of smoke as their bodies rapidly decayed into a cloud of spiritual energy. The crowd was speechless. They didn't expect something so monstrous could end up with such a human-like appearance. Serraph would turn towards the crowd and bow low and humbly at the waist.
"By the remaining honor of my name and the newfound humanity of my brethren, I beg your forgiveness."
"I shouldn't be so reckless...", he'd mutter in complaint, his thumbs moving over to close the dead man's eyes. The night and the moon's light had gotten to him. Had it not he would have probably approached the whole ordeal in a more thoughtful manner. The result would change very slightly, but it wouldn't have resulted in a near death. Serraph's chain of questions during the night had a more darker essence to them, such so that it made him shiver when thinking about it. He'd shake his head at the the other and set it down softly upon its owner's chest before standing and holding out an outstretched hand.
Like the day prior, a pale umbrella with an hooked oak handle would be created in the palm of his left hand. Bringing it into this world was hardly difficult and took very little time to perform. Soon he had a perfect shield to deflect the sun's assault on Serraph's weak skin. Perfect. He'd hide beneath the veil, concealing his body from the sun. The Arrancar boy would shudder, a phantom pain stabbing at his chest. His free hand would move up to press at the would, finding the tightly wound mass of clothing scraps covering the injury beneath. He remembered scrapping the temporary bandage together but covering himself was something he couldn't recall. Serraph would frown, his free hand clenching itself into a tight fist by his side. This was most worrisome to him. A large portion of his body's anatomy was dedicated to recording his senses, experiments, and thoughts. It was rare for him not to be able to remember a certain event from his life.
He'd turn towards the camp, the twenty or so hollows standing vigil over the encampment. To his surprise, the prisoners had been freed. Not a single Hollow was missing from his memory and all stood by comfortably among the civilians. Very few of the people engaged the creatures in conversation but there were a few occurrences, likely for arrangements to obtain necessities such as food and water. It was likely there weren't much around. The fire itself had burnt out, a small pillar of smoke rising into the cloudless sky. The crowd was restless. They all just wanted to return to their homes and lives.
Serraph sympathized completely.
To that end, there was something he must do. He turned to face the crowd his arm raised up in greeting to them all. They all saw what he did the night prior so naturally they hushed and gave him their attention.
"Soon I will see to your home with relative safety, but before then I must win your trust.", He'd turn and walk horizontally from the crowd, his hand waving in synce with each syllable he spoke as if orchestrating something great, something fantastic. "You all have suffered a great crime. I have killed the man responsible but as custom to the particular challenge I bestowed upon him, I have taken his name and his vows onto my own. This name, this.. Serraph is as tarnished as my skin, my clothing." He'd gesture at the ink that had soaked into his bleach white skin and the various platters of blood that spotted him. "I have also inherited his followers, whose actions I am responsible for."
Serraph would turn towards the group of some twenty hollows and motioned them forward. They'd look to each other puzzled but would hesitantly approached. Serraph would halt them and line them up one by one perpendicular to the mass of civilians. They all needed to see what was about to happen. He'd approach the first one, a hulking brute of a hollow with a huge gut. There was no doubt he'd had his own fair share of meals. Serraph would draw his tainted blade, his calm face forming a slight frown.
"Kneel", he'd commanded, and the hulking being obeyed, the sand beneath him quaking as he fell. Serraph would rest the flat of the blade against the beast's neck, its edge pressing firmly into his neck. "Remove your mask."
The other hollows recoiled at the command, their heads snapping in his direction. Surely they thought this command mad. Such a command could be considered a death sentence. The glutton did his best not to seem fazed by the command, but he knew the amount of fear he must be feeling. Still though, his thick, meaty hand reached over his rigid, bony mask its digit curling around its edges. He'd exhale deeply, no doubt to calm his nerves and pull.
The civilian crowd would wince almost in unison as the Hollow let lose an unearthly cry. Its mask cracked and crumbled, green sparks of energy sparking beneath. Serraph removed his blade from the beings shoulder and took a step back. The being became enveloped in a ghastly green glow, his form shrinking down to what would consider a more human shape. The glow would dim, leaving a rather chunky man in its place, who'd fall face first into the sand.
Serraph would summon a rather simple, khaki robe over the figure and tap him softly atop the head. He'd smile, proud to see how willing he was to discard his monstrous nature for a bit more humanity.
He'd move his way down the line, repeating each step until everyone had removed. Only three had managed to evolve beyond the normal Hollow. The others were not so lucky. They'd die in a cloud of smoke as their bodies rapidly decayed into a cloud of spiritual energy. The crowd was speechless. They didn't expect something so monstrous could end up with such a human-like appearance. Serraph would turn towards the crowd and bow low and humbly at the waist.
"By the remaining honor of my name and the newfound humanity of my brethren, I beg your forgiveness."
"Mine eyes hath seen the glory of the presence of my Lord. He is sifting through the treasures in which his Gates of Wrath does store. He lets loose the righteous vengeance of his terrible swift swords. Gilgemesh has returned!"