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( OOC: This thread takes place just after the rescue of Amaya. Any shinigami or vizard in SS may join. Demons may also join if they wish, but they must use a demon door and will probably need to be in a group, or they must use the demon door that Divus used. If I'm not mistaken Soul Society is a difficult place to get into. )
It was an inconceivable day of vengeance. But even so, it did not show, not upon the modest courtyard just outside the 9th squad barracks. For a brief instant there was a sort of calm before the storm... some shinigami were training, a few were discussing kido spells, and the majority were simply at rest here. Of course, there were still many shinigami on patrols and the like. But this was the hub of the entire 9th Division, a significant grouping of military buildings devoted entirely to their squad. And yet, fate spat on this peace, sending the Darkest of souls to seek battle...
A thunderous crack of black lightning split a insignificant stone wall in two, obviously with a force other than sheer reiatsu, as it tore through the energy-resistant structure. Only a few black clouds hung in the sky from which the thunder had ensued, and yet, they began to swell rapidly before spinning together in a large funnel. The gloomy mass swirled and spun with a sickly, liquid noise, before mashing itself into the ground and blowing away several low rank shinigami of the 9th division with it's terrible descent, crashing where the lightning had struck, and surrounding what the bolt had left; a tiny, black hole in the ground, from which an odious evil energy rose. A gateway to Hell itself was forming.
It was a demon door, like any other, but if it had been anywhere else such excessive display of power would not have been necessary. It wasn't a display honestly but in actuality all of it had been necessary. Dangai and a immensely powerful barrier made Soul Society a difficult place to reach, and the art of Demon Door while capable of breaching it, was difficult for Divus to use. Luckily, he wasn't alone. The hole expanded and rose, and from it, a towering beast of a man rose. None other than Divus himself, white wings rose from his back, his long silver hair flowing in the wind his disruption had caused... he had been forced to use True Form just to open the door in a precise location; the 11th Squad division, the place where Divus knew the symbol he'd seen on the one who betrayed him would be.
Bare feet stepped upon the ground, long, black claw-like toenails digging into the virgin earth as an incredibly powerful demonic spiritual pressure billowed outward, with no attempt to hide itself. The being known as Divus there stood in the smokey ruins of the wall, as the dust stirred about by it's ruin was slowly being replaced by a mysterious black fog that emitted from his Demon Door, which had been more of a Demon Hole in this case. But if one could see him, it would be evident that something was wrong. This was no simple attack.
For one, he was dressed in evening clothes - simple robes, black and torn, and underneath them were two hardened leather straps crossing his chest bound by a single metallic diamond shaped buckle on his chest. The vial of Colbolt's blood was within, but only half was there; the rest was somewhere else, it seemed. While the torn robes did suit him, he was basically here in what Demons would consider his pajamas - something totally out of place for one so proud. Forming a contrast with his simple attire, he wore his golden crocodile-shaped mask upon his face, concealing a worn visage with a shield that hid his grief. A terrible, vengeful grief... the despair was almost tangible. You could see it in the way his shoulders hung low, and the upper half of his body seemed to slink forward. His forearms were mostly exposed and one could see that he was slightly dirty towards his hands and feet in dried blood. His chest was exposed, revealing powerful muscles, and that perfect pale white skin that reflected the now dim sunlight that was gradually being strangled away by the black clouds summoned here by Demon Magick to suffocate the world of that luminous ball of fire. You didn't have to see his face to know that this was a deeply wounded man, with something heavy tearing at his heart. And it was the truth. Even as Dark liquid gushed from him and shaped into his infamous black swords, a regular activity he often enjoyed, nothing took the hatred and sadness out of him. Not even this. He was here to attempt to quench that terrible thirst with the blood of his enemy and the allies of his foe if they so happened to place themselves in his path. Here was a man of great rage and a crushing sorrow... the loss of his lover weighed heavily upon his soul.
Fifty swords rose about in the air, and he made solemn footsteps towards the ninth division, whilst that wretched mask continued to make snapping and sucking noises against his flesh. It was vile, it was disgusting, it was wicked, but to one who could perceive his feelings it would be seen as little more than a moving attempt to conceal what laid beneath that mask. The swords moved with unprecedented ferocity mowing down those shinigami in the courtyard first, before more arrived. Divus said nothing, he just approached the building in front of him, a quaint structure. Ten swords dashed at it, slicing the pillars that supported it in two on the left side whilst the other forty continued to murder the soul reapers, with a body count of roughly 24 within the first few minutes.
Slowly, the building began to lean towards it's left side, no longer having a place to distribute it's uneven weight. The barracks came crashing down, several stories all at once, until roughly half of it remained. Divus knew what he was doing. He'd just aggravated the ant's nest. He knew that this place wasn't where he was going exactly, but he knew he was close, and this was where he would begin... he was determined to avenge Colbolt in some way.
It was an inconceivable day of vengeance. But even so, it did not show, not upon the modest courtyard just outside the 9th squad barracks. For a brief instant there was a sort of calm before the storm... some shinigami were training, a few were discussing kido spells, and the majority were simply at rest here. Of course, there were still many shinigami on patrols and the like. But this was the hub of the entire 9th Division, a significant grouping of military buildings devoted entirely to their squad. And yet, fate spat on this peace, sending the Darkest of souls to seek battle...
A thunderous crack of black lightning split a insignificant stone wall in two, obviously with a force other than sheer reiatsu, as it tore through the energy-resistant structure. Only a few black clouds hung in the sky from which the thunder had ensued, and yet, they began to swell rapidly before spinning together in a large funnel. The gloomy mass swirled and spun with a sickly, liquid noise, before mashing itself into the ground and blowing away several low rank shinigami of the 9th division with it's terrible descent, crashing where the lightning had struck, and surrounding what the bolt had left; a tiny, black hole in the ground, from which an odious evil energy rose. A gateway to Hell itself was forming.
It was a demon door, like any other, but if it had been anywhere else such excessive display of power would not have been necessary. It wasn't a display honestly but in actuality all of it had been necessary. Dangai and a immensely powerful barrier made Soul Society a difficult place to reach, and the art of Demon Door while capable of breaching it, was difficult for Divus to use. Luckily, he wasn't alone. The hole expanded and rose, and from it, a towering beast of a man rose. None other than Divus himself, white wings rose from his back, his long silver hair flowing in the wind his disruption had caused... he had been forced to use True Form just to open the door in a precise location; the 11th Squad division, the place where Divus knew the symbol he'd seen on the one who betrayed him would be.
Bare feet stepped upon the ground, long, black claw-like toenails digging into the virgin earth as an incredibly powerful demonic spiritual pressure billowed outward, with no attempt to hide itself. The being known as Divus there stood in the smokey ruins of the wall, as the dust stirred about by it's ruin was slowly being replaced by a mysterious black fog that emitted from his Demon Door, which had been more of a Demon Hole in this case. But if one could see him, it would be evident that something was wrong. This was no simple attack.
For one, he was dressed in evening clothes - simple robes, black and torn, and underneath them were two hardened leather straps crossing his chest bound by a single metallic diamond shaped buckle on his chest. The vial of Colbolt's blood was within, but only half was there; the rest was somewhere else, it seemed. While the torn robes did suit him, he was basically here in what Demons would consider his pajamas - something totally out of place for one so proud. Forming a contrast with his simple attire, he wore his golden crocodile-shaped mask upon his face, concealing a worn visage with a shield that hid his grief. A terrible, vengeful grief... the despair was almost tangible. You could see it in the way his shoulders hung low, and the upper half of his body seemed to slink forward. His forearms were mostly exposed and one could see that he was slightly dirty towards his hands and feet in dried blood. His chest was exposed, revealing powerful muscles, and that perfect pale white skin that reflected the now dim sunlight that was gradually being strangled away by the black clouds summoned here by Demon Magick to suffocate the world of that luminous ball of fire. You didn't have to see his face to know that this was a deeply wounded man, with something heavy tearing at his heart. And it was the truth. Even as Dark liquid gushed from him and shaped into his infamous black swords, a regular activity he often enjoyed, nothing took the hatred and sadness out of him. Not even this. He was here to attempt to quench that terrible thirst with the blood of his enemy and the allies of his foe if they so happened to place themselves in his path. Here was a man of great rage and a crushing sorrow... the loss of his lover weighed heavily upon his soul.
Fifty swords rose about in the air, and he made solemn footsteps towards the ninth division, whilst that wretched mask continued to make snapping and sucking noises against his flesh. It was vile, it was disgusting, it was wicked, but to one who could perceive his feelings it would be seen as little more than a moving attempt to conceal what laid beneath that mask. The swords moved with unprecedented ferocity mowing down those shinigami in the courtyard first, before more arrived. Divus said nothing, he just approached the building in front of him, a quaint structure. Ten swords dashed at it, slicing the pillars that supported it in two on the left side whilst the other forty continued to murder the soul reapers, with a body count of roughly 24 within the first few minutes.
Slowly, the building began to lean towards it's left side, no longer having a place to distribute it's uneven weight. The barracks came crashing down, several stories all at once, until roughly half of it remained. Divus knew what he was doing. He'd just aggravated the ant's nest. He knew that this place wasn't where he was going exactly, but he knew he was close, and this was where he would begin... he was determined to avenge Colbolt in some way.
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