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#1 [Private] The Blood On Our Hands on Tue Jan 10, 2017 10:09 pm

The rain was pouring down the streets, warm and thick. Rattling and clattering all the way to the ground, heavy drops pounded at the rooftops and puddled along the sidewalk, dripping off the plastic awning's edge and into Harry's eyes. He blinked fiercely against the water's blurry veil, brushing away the soaked green strands clinging to her forehead with an impatient hand. The weather didn't quite manage to put a damper on his mood, so to speak, though it still came as a chilly splash of a surprise to see the wispy charcoal clouds make good on their threat of pouring.

Japan never really had to suffer from the problems of rain, what with it having such extreme summers, yet that wasn't really true. Even with the rain season to deal with all that before the summer began, it seemed to be raining more and more as the years went by. This year alone it had rained five days out of the last fifteen, almost three times more than last year. Maybe he shouldn't be so concerned about that fact, but not only was it really inconvenient but it was also bizarre. It was probably evidence that global warming was real, like that annoying old man Al Gore had said all those years ago. What was it, seven years since he had gone out of his way to publish a film, and yet there were still nay-sayers about the entire concept? It was ridiculous to Harry, but right now he didn't care about that.

As Harry moved through the city, the sound of a chugging engine filling the streets with his passing, all he really cared about was that bizarre spiritual pressure from the center of town. He could sense it a mile away, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. He had been trying to be a little bit more tolerant recently for the sake of those who he owed favors to, but it wasn't going very well, and that just made it worse when he could sense this perturbing pressure all the way across town. Yet again, there was the spiritual pressure of an arrancar. If he had to guess, he would say it was around the same strength as maybe Seto, although it seemed more densely concentrated. Whether that was suggesting a size to them, or whether it was simply because they were better trained, he didn't know. Of course, that wasn't saying a lot as he didn't understand much about arrancars, including their obsession with the human realms. It was probably the twentieth time this month that a spirit decided to pop out and just go fuck with the human world for no fucking reason at all. Why did they always get bored and go for strolls where they didn't belong, and more importantly, why on earth was Harry always the one to find them? It was almost always when he tried to do other things when they popped out of the woodwork like moles in a whack-a-mole machine, He knew that because he'd fought one the moment he'd touched down in Chicago around a fortnight ago, he hadn't even been able to be on the ground for five damned minutes before everything went to shit. Now he'd just been going out for a ride simply for pleasure, and now he had to deal with another arrancar. "Fuck me." shaking his head Harry kept walking forward knowing that he would have to face whoever the hell that was going to pop-up before him.

Last edited by Harry Claus De Xerxes on Wed Jan 11, 2017 8:08 pm; edited 1 time in total

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#2 Re: [Private] The Blood On Our Hands on Tue Jan 10, 2017 11:58 pm

Food. He needed something bad. The entirety of his first return had been a failure. He had only eaten one soul, and nothing great at that, just a single drop of power from the ocean of possibilities and he was sure it had made him sick to have even tried. He'd ripped open a Gargantua for the hollows who had gathered around him to try and consume him his open threat to all of them was he'd kill them if they even tried to attack him his left arm rippling with electricity as the reishi in the air of hueco mundo returned it's complete use to him. He wasn't about to let some garden variety peasants eat him before he got his answers but he also wasn't about to let the entire mass of souls within him gain control of his body just because he was growing hungry. He hadn't made an exit point for the Gargantua, he'd left that open to the several hollows that went through, they'd choose his banquet for him.

Stepping out into a cold rain crashing into his armor the droplets coating him in the wet liquid he smiled. They'd chosen well, and that was all they'd be needed for, someone else would come and clean up the mess he'd unleashed. It was only a few garden varieties, but with his presence in place, they'd like go unnoticed and feast. He didn't quite mind, even if the creatures were abusing his power to feed again this time he was certain he wouldn't stumble across a pathetic child with minor abilities. His silver hair plastered to his head as the rain continued to come down, his eyes seeming complete black hollowed holes under the gloom of the clouds and his vibrant azure eyes peering out from the darkness. He was prepared to enjoy himself one way or another and the town set out before him was the perfect way. Running a course electricity across his fingers he smiled watching it jump between the droplets before they collided with his hands. While some would care to believe that water in general was a problem for him he understood that rain had many other minerals within it's composition making the dirty water harder to conduct his electricity through.

Casting off the electrical toy from his hands he looked out across the city and let his voice boom, "Your prince has arrived, bring forth your dead!" His words weren't meant to clarify to those that didn't understand, they were meant as a challenge to any that could hear and feel his presence. His past experience in the world of the living had been a bore, and unlike last time. He would make his presence well know to all of the inhabitants of this city. Like a moth drawn to flame he would attract them to fight him here and under the gloomy sky the man would experience true bliss once again. A fight to entice him and sate his appetite.

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#3 Re: [Private] The Blood On Our Hands on Wed Jan 11, 2017 8:03 pm

Harry thought about the feeling that he had felt a few minutes ago. The feeling of numbness, hopelessness and maybe, even a little bit scared. Shaking his head he tried to stop thinking about it. In a way, it was his attempt to brush the feelings off him. It never really worked, but it never killed him to try. What really made him think a lot was the fact that the feelings and emotions that overwhelmed him made him afraid of whoever it was the was that he was going to meet soon. It disgusted Harry. Living in fear... it wasn't how he was supposed to live. He was a God. And God's feared nothing. He was being that transcended above all. "I'm a fuckin God! Do you hear me!?" Harry shouted out loud as he began to laugh maniacally. It felt good knowing that you're above everyone. It felt really fucking good.

Harry kept walking forward, his head down, his hands inside his pockets. It didn't matter to him that he was soaking wet because he liked the rain and liked getting wet. He also wasn't the person to carry an umbrella. Men who were afraid of getting a little wet were pussies to him -- and he wasn't one of them. As he took a turn towards the left, he heard a voice booming through the cold, empty, rainy area. By the sounds of whoever it was, he or she was close. Harry tried to figure out what the person was saying since he was quite uncertain what the person meant by it. By the looks of it, the fucker was announcing that he, the prince, was here, and asking everyone to bring forth the dead. Sighing to himself Harry kept walking, "Another fuckin nutjob. That's just what I needed." he was still unsure about the gender of the person even though the person claimed himself or herself as a prince. The person could be one of those trannies for all he knew. He didn't want to assume it's gender and trigger the mental-case up.

Finally Harry was able to meet up with the unknown stranger. As always he kept his distance with the person before trying to engage in a conversation in any sort of way. Observing the stranger, he noticed that the 'man' had very pale skin; almost as if he had spend most of his life in the fucking Antarctic. Like Harry, the man was a tall, lean person with somewhat of a good build to him. Putting on a smile on his face, Harry began to speak, "Hi, can you please try to keep it down with your psycho talk? People are trying to fuckin sleep here, man." He leaned a little bit back, ran his hand through his wet long purple coloured hair, "why do you Arrancars always have to be such cunts?" Which was an amusing statement because Harry was the biggest cunt that ever fuckin existed.

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#4 Re: [Private] The Blood On Our Hands on Thu Jan 12, 2017 10:52 pm

He had heard the scream and laughter and simply put he didn't care. He couldn't sense anything that'd scare him, even if his sensing was one of his worst aspects someone stronger than him would be easily found. The rain coming down around him still hadn't bothered him, and as the man turned the corner he could tell it didn't bother him either. Although he did keep his head down to avoid the rain it seemed, he also understood to keep his distance. His entire body was drenched much like his own, at that distance he could only tell that mans hair color slightly and that his hair was soaked. When threw a smile on his face and started to call him a psycho he smiled back, then when he called him a cunt his demeanor didn't change at all. He himself leaned back shook his head back and forth and just laughed.

"Says the mere peasant, who much like a drenched alley cat, stepped out of the darkness to address me as such." He glanced about, the buildings in place had a few lights on, but many of the houses and store fronts were closed. He supposed it was night here, wasn't it. He couldn't rightfully tell in this god forsaken world, especially in such weather climates as this. "So what is it a mere alley cat has to offer me, since you've so willingly answered my call." He didn't feel as if he even needed to release, the amount of power the man before him exerted was non-existent. He was certain the man was human and that would be this man's downfall. He had chosen to answer the call of an Arrancar without the slightest bit of power, so a blade alone would be all he needed to end this twig. It didn't give him satisfaction killing the weak, and so although he felt nothing from this man, he surely hoped he was more. He ran a hand through his own silver hair to lift it off his forehead, but instead of bringing his hand back down to the side of his body, he jerked his other arm around. Grabbing the hilt of the sword off his back, the shield sliding away to his left arm as he sonido'd next to the man. A horizontal slash silencing any immediate response as he stood to the man's left. His right arm still hyper extended with the smug smile spread across it and blade outward. "While I do enjoy play things, rats are not one of them. So discard any hopes you have if this is all you are!"

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#5 Re: [Private] The Blood On Our Hands on Fri Jan 13, 2017 1:19 pm

Harry listened to the Arrancar ramble on about how he was a peasant and how he was just an alley cat with no direction whatsoever. Which Harry found quite amusing; mainly because the way that the Arrancar speaked to him. His use of words and the way he phrased those words together to make a sentence out of it. It was almost like he was back in the fucking 1700's and such, where people talked to each other in an old English way of speaking. "Who the fuck still speaks like that?" he thought to himself knowing that those day's were long gone. Then again, he was dealing with a.deranged Arrancar who most probably suffered from brain damaged after fighting countless of battles. So, it was expected from him to act in such a bizarre way. But something told Harry that the act the Arrancar put up would get old soon, and bore him instead of amuse him.

"Answer your call? What call?" Harry asked the Arrancar, raising his eyebrow, "I was just strolling along, minding my own damn businesses as usual. Then all of a sudden, I heard a madman shouting about he being a prince and wanting the dead to come near him... So me being the curious fucker I am went there... and now, here I am." Raising his right hand Harry pointed his finger towards the Arrancar, "Guess that was you, huh? Unless you brought someone else with you..." putting his hand down he let his eye's roam the area. A few buildings surrounded the area with some lampposts that were situated here and there. Gazing back at the Arrancar, Harry spread his arms wide, "Nice weather, isn't it?"  

Harry saw the blade coming at him from the left. It was coming in fast. Turning his head a little bit towards the left side, he sneered, while dodging the attack by blurring away at the right moment, only to appear on top of a lamppost that was a few feet towards his right. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... aren't you a serious fella?" bending his knees down fully, his elbows rested on his knee caps as he looked at the Arrancar with a wide grin on his face. "This is why no one likes Arrancars. None of you shite-heads have a fuckin sense of humour." Harry said in a mocking tone. "Well, if you haven't figured it out yet -- I'm a Bount. The greatest race ever to exist in this universe." the grin on his face grew wider, "Oh, I forgot something to tell you-" pausing for a few seconds he continued, "Fuck you too, bro." as he pointed his middle finger at the Arrancar for attacking him out of the blue.

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