01-08-2017, 01:12 AM
It was a beautiful night here in Hueco Mundo. The sounds of howling screams could be heard in the distance and the sound of the wind carrying such beautiful cries made its way through the various catacombs of Serraph's library. Granted, it was indeed a nuisance to have to deal with such a draft. There were many loose documents and works of art the Espada had still yet to catagorize and place in their proper place. Such things would be carried by the wind, strewing them about the labrynth that was Serraph's domain.
The younger Espada would trace his pale finger over the cluttered desk of ivory, following along the massive stacks of books that had just been delivered. The smell of old textures made him feel at home here. There was so much to read and so much to discover. It simply made his mouth water at the prospect. The sounds of footsteps interrupted his thoughts of book-cest and tome-grahy. Two taller Arrancar would find their place before him, both carrying a small stack of records for him. Quarrere's eyes would lighten. Even more to add to his never ending toil. The two... weren't that important. Serraph saw them nearly every moment of his work. They were boring to say the least.
"Lord Serraph. A raid on Shinigami patrols yielded us these records.", One of them would say, holding out the small stack of papers for Serraph to look over.
A quick stroll from his desk to these underlings showed how excited he was. Lately these two had yielded unsatisfactory results as of late, barely meeting their qoutas that Serraph had imposed upon them. Still though, they did better than most. Many couldn't handle the large quantity that he... required of his underlings. The Espada was nearly laughing with glee as he reached up for the papers, but as soon as he touched them, something felt off.
"Wait...", he'd say, his smile ebbing away. He'd snatch the papers away, adjusting his glasses as he skimmed over the records. These fools had no idea who they were dealing with. His chest swelled as his temper rose. His grey eyes narrowing as they glanced ever so slowly up at the weaker Arrancar. "These records are about Shinigami deployments from five years ago. RECORDS. I already have. RECORDS that you fools have copied.", he'd say turning around to hide his disgust from them, but then an idea struck the shorter one's mind. "You two have struck a curiosity in me. I haven't used a cero in over fifty years. Back then, they were quite weak, harmless even. I wonder if I... tried it out again.", he'd say, slowly turning his palm outstretched toward the one who had refused to talk throughout the whole ordeal. A light blue light would grow in his palm, illuminating the dim room.
"Lord Serraph, I-I d-didn't do it! This bastard did what are y-"
"Cero", Muttered Serraph, the ball shrinking into nothing before expanding outward in a torrent of blue light that expelled outward, encapsulating the poor soul before him and expanding outward against the stone wall of his library. The building shook as if grasped by an earthquake, knocking over shelves and ancient tomes from their resting places. The light died down and the tremors stopped. From where this poor soul once stood was merely a scorch mark and a pile of ash. This blast had nearly wrecked his place of work and living, but Serraph had a solution. He'd turn to the other who merely stood there quivering in fear that the same would happen to him. A Lucky day for this guy, it would seem to be.
"Reorganize every record in this building, fix that wall, and clean up this GODDAMN mess. I dont care what has to be done... just get it DONE!", he'd cry out before moving to return to his rest area, away from all this chaos. Unlike the place he kept his livelihood, his bedroom was just that: A room with a bed. It was essentially a small white cube with enough space to fit a bed in. It was quiet there and held no distractions to keep him from forcing himself to rest.
He'd lay down against the hard stone of his "Bed" and let his eyes droop when he heard it, the voice that seemed to purge every bit of knowledge from his mind. This Omni, had given Serraph another chance to find what he was looking for all this time, even if Serraph would never know at first. One by one the chains were broken as Omni explained himself, his world, and Serraphs involvement. It was a world of infinite possibilities, a world with infinite knowledge. The once crude Espada had turned into a child again, at least mentally. The prospect of acquiring all this information was like going down to the candy store and picking up a morsel of that new chocolate his favorite company came out with. This mind wipe was possibly the best thing he could have gotten for himself. Square one... how exciting.
Meanwhile... back at ye olde Fountain...
The fountain would find itself changing yet again singalling the arrival of a new prime. The ash from the fountain would find itself expelled from its grasp, washing over the primes that dare stay close to it. The hourglass in its center would change and lengthen, becoming less than an hourglass and more of a granite pillar. Square holes would open near its center, expelling a gratuitous amount of small slips of blank paper. Well... that and black ink. From the pool of glorified post-it notes and the sea of dark fluids, Serraph's body was pieced together like paper mache, the little slips compacting together to form a humanoid shape of sorts. The shape would step from the fountain with excess ink dripping from his body. He began walking foreward, with each step solidifying the former Espada's appearence, the paper eventually seeming to disapear. Before long there only stood a young teen dressed in an old, brown suit, his skin and hair as pale as the floor beneath him. His grey eyes glanced around, taking in the surroundings around him. Two others seemed to be nearby and a strange figure lay in front of him, covered in a strange fabric. Curious, his hand reached down, stripping the parachute from the body beneath.
"Ah! T-this is strange clothing you have here M-mister... W-what's it called?", he'd ask, oblivious to whatever pain he was having as the boy's pale hands glided over the parachute fabric.
"....owowowowowow..."
"Its called an owowowowow? What a strange name for something equally strange. I like it!"
The figure pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the growing lump on his head, "Eh? What? N-no it's..." He trailed off as if suddenly realizing something. A confident gleam sparked in his eye, his right hand swinging outward before jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb. "Heh... It's the amazing Usopp Skyrider, invented by the masterful Captain Usopp!! No..." he chuckled, a grin spread on his face. "The Great CAPTAIN KING USSSOPPP!", the person cried out rather dramatically, shoving his fist into the air as if he'd conquered some great beast. Serraph looked up at the strange man, a brow quirked curiously, before the long-nosed fellow leaned in a bit and whispered to him, as if divulging a secret. "That's me."
Serraph blinked, pushing up his glasses before also raising his fist to the air. "Yeah!", he'd cry out, the long-nosed one's enthusiasm seemingly absorbed by the pale fellow before he realized. "H-hey... Super King Usopp."
"Huh?"
"What's a King?"
The younger Espada would trace his pale finger over the cluttered desk of ivory, following along the massive stacks of books that had just been delivered. The smell of old textures made him feel at home here. There was so much to read and so much to discover. It simply made his mouth water at the prospect. The sounds of footsteps interrupted his thoughts of book-cest and tome-grahy. Two taller Arrancar would find their place before him, both carrying a small stack of records for him. Quarrere's eyes would lighten. Even more to add to his never ending toil. The two... weren't that important. Serraph saw them nearly every moment of his work. They were boring to say the least.
"Lord Serraph. A raid on Shinigami patrols yielded us these records.", One of them would say, holding out the small stack of papers for Serraph to look over.
A quick stroll from his desk to these underlings showed how excited he was. Lately these two had yielded unsatisfactory results as of late, barely meeting their qoutas that Serraph had imposed upon them. Still though, they did better than most. Many couldn't handle the large quantity that he... required of his underlings. The Espada was nearly laughing with glee as he reached up for the papers, but as soon as he touched them, something felt off.
"Wait...", he'd say, his smile ebbing away. He'd snatch the papers away, adjusting his glasses as he skimmed over the records. These fools had no idea who they were dealing with. His chest swelled as his temper rose. His grey eyes narrowing as they glanced ever so slowly up at the weaker Arrancar. "These records are about Shinigami deployments from five years ago. RECORDS. I already have. RECORDS that you fools have copied.", he'd say turning around to hide his disgust from them, but then an idea struck the shorter one's mind. "You two have struck a curiosity in me. I haven't used a cero in over fifty years. Back then, they were quite weak, harmless even. I wonder if I... tried it out again.", he'd say, slowly turning his palm outstretched toward the one who had refused to talk throughout the whole ordeal. A light blue light would grow in his palm, illuminating the dim room.
"Lord Serraph, I-I d-didn't do it! This bastard did what are y-"
"Cero", Muttered Serraph, the ball shrinking into nothing before expanding outward in a torrent of blue light that expelled outward, encapsulating the poor soul before him and expanding outward against the stone wall of his library. The building shook as if grasped by an earthquake, knocking over shelves and ancient tomes from their resting places. The light died down and the tremors stopped. From where this poor soul once stood was merely a scorch mark and a pile of ash. This blast had nearly wrecked his place of work and living, but Serraph had a solution. He'd turn to the other who merely stood there quivering in fear that the same would happen to him. A Lucky day for this guy, it would seem to be.
"Reorganize every record in this building, fix that wall, and clean up this GODDAMN mess. I dont care what has to be done... just get it DONE!", he'd cry out before moving to return to his rest area, away from all this chaos. Unlike the place he kept his livelihood, his bedroom was just that: A room with a bed. It was essentially a small white cube with enough space to fit a bed in. It was quiet there and held no distractions to keep him from forcing himself to rest.
He'd lay down against the hard stone of his "Bed" and let his eyes droop when he heard it, the voice that seemed to purge every bit of knowledge from his mind. This Omni, had given Serraph another chance to find what he was looking for all this time, even if Serraph would never know at first. One by one the chains were broken as Omni explained himself, his world, and Serraphs involvement. It was a world of infinite possibilities, a world with infinite knowledge. The once crude Espada had turned into a child again, at least mentally. The prospect of acquiring all this information was like going down to the candy store and picking up a morsel of that new chocolate his favorite company came out with. This mind wipe was possibly the best thing he could have gotten for himself. Square one... how exciting.
Meanwhile... back at ye olde Fountain...
The fountain would find itself changing yet again singalling the arrival of a new prime. The ash from the fountain would find itself expelled from its grasp, washing over the primes that dare stay close to it. The hourglass in its center would change and lengthen, becoming less than an hourglass and more of a granite pillar. Square holes would open near its center, expelling a gratuitous amount of small slips of blank paper. Well... that and black ink. From the pool of glorified post-it notes and the sea of dark fluids, Serraph's body was pieced together like paper mache, the little slips compacting together to form a humanoid shape of sorts. The shape would step from the fountain with excess ink dripping from his body. He began walking foreward, with each step solidifying the former Espada's appearence, the paper eventually seeming to disapear. Before long there only stood a young teen dressed in an old, brown suit, his skin and hair as pale as the floor beneath him. His grey eyes glanced around, taking in the surroundings around him. Two others seemed to be nearby and a strange figure lay in front of him, covered in a strange fabric. Curious, his hand reached down, stripping the parachute from the body beneath.
"Ah! T-this is strange clothing you have here M-mister... W-what's it called?", he'd ask, oblivious to whatever pain he was having as the boy's pale hands glided over the parachute fabric.
"....owowowowowow..."
"Its called an owowowowow? What a strange name for something equally strange. I like it!"
The figure pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the growing lump on his head, "Eh? What? N-no it's..." He trailed off as if suddenly realizing something. A confident gleam sparked in his eye, his right hand swinging outward before jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb. "Heh... It's the amazing Usopp Skyrider, invented by the masterful Captain Usopp!! No..." he chuckled, a grin spread on his face. "The Great CAPTAIN KING USSSOPPP!", the person cried out rather dramatically, shoving his fist into the air as if he'd conquered some great beast. Serraph looked up at the strange man, a brow quirked curiously, before the long-nosed fellow leaned in a bit and whispered to him, as if divulging a secret. "That's me."
Serraph blinked, pushing up his glasses before also raising his fist to the air. "Yeah!", he'd cry out, the long-nosed one's enthusiasm seemingly absorbed by the pale fellow before he realized. "H-hey... Super King Usopp."
"Huh?"
"What's a King?"
"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!"