02-08-2016, 12:31 AM
Orihime was entangled in her own consciousness, preparing herself for the task at hand, when she was interrupted by the dry raspy voice of the grandfather spirit.
“Now Go!” the ghastly, azure phantom announced, just before she felt her bodying being sucked out of existence, like a hefty, black vacuum.
After being torn through time and space, like some heinous rollercoaster, Orihime landed hard on her ass upon coarse gravel. She let out a deep sigh of distress, before that wretched time hole spat out a conceivably, sizeable weapon, and plunged it across her lap. The sharp impact knocked the breath out of the petite redhead.
Being transported from another dimension, she felt the experience of being forced under water for several minutes without air. Heaving breathing and the defining sound of her heartbeat engulfed Orihime's eardrums. The sharp sting of her eyes drying out caused her whole body to quiver and tears began to fill her doe eyes. Several minutes passed as she stared hypnotically at the monstrosity before her.
This was not like any Zanpakuto she had seen before. In the long lost world she once knew, Zanpakutos were weapons used to kill and protect. This was no Zanpakuto, but it appeared useful, and she admired the engraved, ancient markings that were almost elegant.
“If I have a weapon like this, what do the guardians look like?” Orihime thought while the frightening realization caused a pale, distressed look to form across her delicate face.
In any case, she could always use this tool to hunt fish or kill other beasts. “Kill.” the word echoed and haunted her mind. This brought her all the way back to the beginning, in the village of Zabajin. Her first few nights after the attack, Zabajin isolated her and forced her into a hobble hole. Every day he would visit her once and bring a pure white, snowy rabbit with a knife. The troll would command her to kill the innocent creature to survive.
At first, she tried to reason with the chief, saying that it was not necessary to kill all the time, amongst other closing arguments. Until he got angry with Orihime and charged her. Within inches away from her face, he hissed “I don’t know what luxurious world you came from, but here you will have to kill to survive.” One part feeling guilty for stirring up her troll friend, and another part of her worried about impending death and starvation broke the strike.
“You will have to kill,” Orihime muttered the trusted words of the troll chief.
Standing reluctantly to her feet now she surveyed her surroundings. As far as her eyes could see, she saw no other signs of life. Turning around, she was relieved to glimpse towering snowy mountains in the distance. The rising earth, elevating high above the girl caused her to feel homesick. Approaching the mountains was the only thing that made sense to Orihime. Zabajin was always telling tales of glorious dragons that dwelled in caves, guarding their beloved treasure.
Perhaps she will find what she needs to liberate the poor grandfather soul, high on top of the winter ridge. The only problem was how in the world was she going to get there. Pondering a moment she envisioned a big bright light bulb, turning on above her flowing crimson locks.
Using her aid that the elderly apparition gave her, she tore through the lengthy white gown, several inches above her knee. Working quickly, Orihime wrapped up the device with a scrap of velvety material. She fastened it to her side firmly, but within easy reach if necessary. With only a small piece left she thought it vital to conceal as much of her glowing hair as possible. The troll chief would joke with her about how her ginger head was a walking target in the snow. Gathering her lengthy red hair, she crafted a single long braid that graced down her back. This would have to do, for now, she thought as she used her remaining garment to tie it together.
“Now Go!” the ghastly, azure phantom announced, just before she felt her bodying being sucked out of existence, like a hefty, black vacuum.
After being torn through time and space, like some heinous rollercoaster, Orihime landed hard on her ass upon coarse gravel. She let out a deep sigh of distress, before that wretched time hole spat out a conceivably, sizeable weapon, and plunged it across her lap. The sharp impact knocked the breath out of the petite redhead.
Being transported from another dimension, she felt the experience of being forced under water for several minutes without air. Heaving breathing and the defining sound of her heartbeat engulfed Orihime's eardrums. The sharp sting of her eyes drying out caused her whole body to quiver and tears began to fill her doe eyes. Several minutes passed as she stared hypnotically at the monstrosity before her.
This was not like any Zanpakuto she had seen before. In the long lost world she once knew, Zanpakutos were weapons used to kill and protect. This was no Zanpakuto, but it appeared useful, and she admired the engraved, ancient markings that were almost elegant.
“If I have a weapon like this, what do the guardians look like?” Orihime thought while the frightening realization caused a pale, distressed look to form across her delicate face.
In any case, she could always use this tool to hunt fish or kill other beasts. “Kill.” the word echoed and haunted her mind. This brought her all the way back to the beginning, in the village of Zabajin. Her first few nights after the attack, Zabajin isolated her and forced her into a hobble hole. Every day he would visit her once and bring a pure white, snowy rabbit with a knife. The troll would command her to kill the innocent creature to survive.
At first, she tried to reason with the chief, saying that it was not necessary to kill all the time, amongst other closing arguments. Until he got angry with Orihime and charged her. Within inches away from her face, he hissed “I don’t know what luxurious world you came from, but here you will have to kill to survive.” One part feeling guilty for stirring up her troll friend, and another part of her worried about impending death and starvation broke the strike.
“You will have to kill,” Orihime muttered the trusted words of the troll chief.
Standing reluctantly to her feet now she surveyed her surroundings. As far as her eyes could see, she saw no other signs of life. Turning around, she was relieved to glimpse towering snowy mountains in the distance. The rising earth, elevating high above the girl caused her to feel homesick. Approaching the mountains was the only thing that made sense to Orihime. Zabajin was always telling tales of glorious dragons that dwelled in caves, guarding their beloved treasure.
Perhaps she will find what she needs to liberate the poor grandfather soul, high on top of the winter ridge. The only problem was how in the world was she going to get there. Pondering a moment she envisioned a big bright light bulb, turning on above her flowing crimson locks.
Using her aid that the elderly apparition gave her, she tore through the lengthy white gown, several inches above her knee. Working quickly, Orihime wrapped up the device with a scrap of velvety material. She fastened it to her side firmly, but within easy reach if necessary. With only a small piece left she thought it vital to conceal as much of her glowing hair as possible. The troll chief would joke with her about how her ginger head was a walking target in the snow. Gathering her lengthy red hair, she crafted a single long braid that graced down her back. This would have to do, for now, she thought as she used her remaining garment to tie it together.
![[Image: Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/04/09/Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif)