Well, time slips away and leaves you with nothing, Mister.
Characters: Hitsugaya Toushirou, OPEN
When: August 8
Where: One of many abandoned streets in Nesreca
Rating: Let's start with PG.
Summary: Hitsugaya's transition between Captain of the Tenth Division and child genius Academy student does not go smoothly.
The physical differences between them weren't great. He was perhaps only an inch shorter, his hair less gravity-defying, the way he held himself much less professional. But he was still very obviously Hitsugaya Toushirou. He was simply a very frozen Hitsugaya Toushirou, taking stance in the middle of a street several blocks from the apartment complex to which they'd all been assigned.
He loosely held his zanpakutou at his side, letting it scrape the cement as he stared wide-eyed at a vacant intersection. Blood splatter lined his blade and his face. None of it was his. The men holding him back may have vanished, but so had the reason he had to move, and so he didn't. Instead, he toppled to his knees and then his stomach, no longer supported by merciless hands or bombarded by far-away voices forcing him to fight. His reiatsu flared for one or two crucial seconds, then it returned to normal.
"...Kusaka."
He muttered the word in a half-dazed state, lost somewhere in between where he'd been and where he was now. Curling into himself, he let the sword hit the pavement and didn't bother getting off the road. A small, gray kitten with a limp hesitantly joined him, rubbing up against his legs. It would stay there until its pseudo-owner was found.
((ooc: I bring you Academy aged Hitsugaya, fresh from watching his best friend die. Replies this week will be made with the account deathbyboobs because I have a million-bajillion Hitsugaya accounts and might as well put some of them to use.
Feel free to help him, kick him while he's down, literally anything is fair game. If no one comes, he'll eventually be forced to find food.))
When: August 8
Where: One of many abandoned streets in Nesreca
Rating: Let's start with PG.
Summary: Hitsugaya's transition between Captain of the Tenth Division and child genius Academy student does not go smoothly.
The physical differences between them weren't great. He was perhaps only an inch shorter, his hair less gravity-defying, the way he held himself much less professional. But he was still very obviously Hitsugaya Toushirou. He was simply a very frozen Hitsugaya Toushirou, taking stance in the middle of a street several blocks from the apartment complex to which they'd all been assigned.
He loosely held his zanpakutou at his side, letting it scrape the cement as he stared wide-eyed at a vacant intersection. Blood splatter lined his blade and his face. None of it was his. The men holding him back may have vanished, but so had the reason he had to move, and so he didn't. Instead, he toppled to his knees and then his stomach, no longer supported by merciless hands or bombarded by far-away voices forcing him to fight. His reiatsu flared for one or two crucial seconds, then it returned to normal.
"...Kusaka."
He muttered the word in a half-dazed state, lost somewhere in between where he'd been and where he was now. Curling into himself, he let the sword hit the pavement and didn't bother getting off the road. A small, gray kitten with a limp hesitantly joined him, rubbing up against his legs. It would stay there until its pseudo-owner was found.
((ooc: I bring you Academy aged Hitsugaya, fresh from watching his best friend die. Replies this week will be made with the account deathbyboobs because I have a million-bajillion Hitsugaya accounts and might as well put some of them to use.
Feel free to help him, kick him while he's down, literally anything is fair game. If no one comes, he'll eventually be forced to find food.))