(Untitled)

[hehsebamon]

Who: Hehsebamon and OPEN TO THE BRAVE.
When: Early morning, day 49.
Where: Outside the S Mart
What: Peeling some skin off those grapes. If you have not read this post, do so before responding.
Rating: R - violence, gore, potential death

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[1stguardian]

Had he been a shinigami, Ichigo would have reached the S-Mart far faster than he did. Of course, had he been a shinigami, he would have been armed with Zangetsu when he arrived at the store. Instead, it took him about ten minutes to run, flat out run, from his flood-ravaged house, and when he crossed the asphalt into the parking lot, he had only his substitute shinigami badge in hand. He was also out of breath, and a stabbing ache was making its slow, insidious climb up his side

[hehsebamon]

For a long, lax moment, Hehsebamon didn't move. And when he did it was sluggish, a hand planted on the edge of the building, a roll of his shoulder and the drag of leather on concrete. Then he dropped, carelessly falling to the pavement. He landed, his legs bending, momentum nullifying, and straightened as if the distance -- easily two stories -- had been nothing. When he looked at Ichigo, fixed those honey-gold eyes on the boy, Hehsebamon's smile was slow and toothsome

[1stguardian]

Had he always been that tall? Ichigo couldn’t remember. His memories of the abduction were hazy on the details, obscured more by the considerable amount of pain he’d been in than by time’s passage, and his perception had been distorted by the days spent bound to the chair. But even now, with a year’s worth of growth, the other man still towered over him. It wasn’t nearly enough to make him back down, he’d fought tall men before and he was too angry by what he saw, too determined to prevent any further death, to be afraid.

Even as that blade coalesced out of nothing but ash and soot. It was like watching a shinigami draw a zanpakutou, and for a moment he remembered Matsumoto’s Haineko dissolving into a cloud of ash so very similar to the one surrounding the Egyptian’s hand. Was it possible that he was a shinigami? Ichigo didn’t know. He hadn’t felt like one during their first encounter, but his senses had been so dulled, it wouldn’t be surprising if he simply hadn’t noticed. And the man had taken out Renji

[hehsebamon]

That he blocked with that blade seemed suicide; that it held together at all seemed an impossibility. But that the spikes of energy met blackened metal, and Hehsabmon howled with laughter as he deflected the first blow, pressing his advantage with an immediate horizontal slash as he advanced. The motions were direct, even forward. There was no thought to defense in the counter attack, and the swing seemed almost as reckless as the cackle.

But the man didn't let up. Whether he struck flesh or cleaved air or whether metal met the bizarre energy that twisted from the shinigami badge, Hehsebamon did not hold back. He was already lunging forward for a second strike.

[notzombiebait]

It was arguable whether or not Chris had heard the warnings offered by his fellow neighbors; but if he had, he ignored them now

[hehsebamon]

He adjusted, sitting up marginally when Chris called out to him, and his smile was only as slow as the motion Chris made to draw his gun, as brightly amused as the other man's smile was dark. One shoulder lifted in something too lethargic to be called a shrug.

"They are as I found them." Some combination of his amusement and the lack of concern in the statement proclaimed it for the lie it was. His gaze flicked briefly to the gun, but for the most part held eye contact. Neither standing, nor otherwise moving, he only asked, "Have you a mind to join them?" with all the gravity of small talk.

[persimmonsplz]

It had been closed since before his arrival. That's what Gin had gathered about the S Mart, anyway. He didn't have need to care when others were beginning to feel the first pangs of hunger, and even when his own basement had flooded, he had been content with the rations that had been provided with his house. He was careful about how he would eat, because while he would readily tease others, he would also readily learn from their shortcomings.

But then the water had spread beyond the basement, and then the water from the roof made everything…

Yeah.

Still, in the end, all Gin could do was laugh. This wasn't the afterlife, he knew that, and he was certain that Hell was barren in comparison to this place, but there was the uncanny feeling that stuck with Gin that whispered two words to him. Divine retribution. This was some massive joke.

But the water hadn't been funny, and his lack of food wasn't hilarious either, and all in all, Gin felt soggy (even with all the returning sun) and that morning's unexpected call had been unsettling,

[hehsebamon]

The laugh was abrupt, like a clap of thunder, and it rumbled a long moment after it struck him. His shoulders shook and his fingers touched his stomach just north of the figure of Anubis at his abdomen. He spoke only after some delay, still highly amused. And he did not open his eyes, rather tipping his head just and inch back and resettling as if to take in all the sun he could.

"It certainly is not the color scheme I would choose." His head tipped down at last, and one amber eye cracked open. "Red is such an unflattering color, after all." Aside from the gorey display, he might have been innocuous. Without visible weapon, lazy in the sun as he was. Not a drop of blood had touched him, either.

Despite appearances, however, his tone of voice lent little credence to the words.

[persimmonsplz]

It would hard to see the narrowing of Gin's eyes, surely, as subtle as the movement was for the man who perpetually kept his eyes lidded. But the laugh that rang out between the two of them hit Gin deep in his gut. It wasn't the grotesque display that put him at unease, no. It was the other man, despite all languid appearances, that made Gin's innate instincts push him towards wariness.

"It's very hostile, right? Some rulers like to cloak themselves in the color, though. You've gotta be wary of people like that. Maybe they've chosen a better color scheme inside, though?" Gin wanted to go inside, that was all, and he let his tone say as much. The step forward couldn't hurt either, right?

[hehsebamon]

"It is a symbol of vanity in my country to wear it." The smile was wide, amused. But the chuckle wasn't at Gin's words, but his own. For who between them fore red hair despite how unnatural the color must have been.

Whether it was the statement or the step forward, however, there was a dangerous shift about him that followed, an intensity that sharpened in his eyes but not in the lazy way he lounged on his captured roof. And Hehsebamon clucked his tongue. "How forward," he mused, the jovial quality to his voice edged with something forbidding, "to assume an invitation that has not been extended."

[smilingfaintly]

It took a short time, but eventually Teresa was in sight of the store front that was on the video - and her lips and pressed together tightly as she sees the bloody letters and the dead bodies.

Clare would be here soon, and when she was, they would find those who had attempted to go against this man - who she was starting to suspect was on level with the power of an abyssal one, at least - and attempt to get them somewhere safe.

This was going to be troublesome, she could just tell.

[caladcholg]

"Troublesome" was just and understatement. The same wailing little girl left behind after the fight with Priscilla had begged her to show up first to prevent a repeat from happening. Clare wasn't tracking far behind in a sprint as quick as she could. An overwhelming sense of nervousness overcame her, frantic thoughts hidden behind an expressionless face.

She took a huff of air into her lungs, balling up her fists at the sight of Teresa arriving there before her.

The same little girl that had followed her off a cliff or not, she wasn't about to jump into a fight recklessly yet. Protect first and ask questions later, especially now. If it wasn't one it was another, yes?

"Teresa!" Only then her face would show urgency, "Please wait! Don't get so close."

[smilingfaintly]

Turning her head as Clare's youki came closer, Teresa blinked at the panic in Clare's face and voice.

In a moment, she was beside her, hand settling on her head. "It's alright - I won't get too close."

Not with her perception and physical abilities as screwed up as they were - she would never take the risk of leaving Clare alone again.

And he's joining you. Because he doesn't want to fight either.

[shyeyed]

There were too many things at risk with this game. Hanataro had heard the panic, the anger within. He knew of what the man had said. He knew what Hope had said. He could see now, what the problem was. This man...he felt a trickle of sweat go down his back. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the fear. It was a reasonable fear. It was like the captains, when they were at the height of their wrath.

Still, he cleared his throat, not touching the sword at his side, nor the pack on his back. This was far too serious a situation to be fiddling around with anything.

He walked towards the two women, hands at his sides, and clearing his throat. They had a...familiar look. Not quite though. They had a cast that reminded him of Cynthia. It helped that they too, had swords that were as large as themselves, but bodies so...delicate. Yes, delicate seemed to be the correct term for it, at least in his mind. They were still taller then him.

"Excuse me. Has anyone been injured by the...man? I promised Hope that's all I was going to do."

[singingalleluia]

Allen was warned, of course.

And you know, this was really the last thing he should be doing. He knew that. Any sane person would tell him he should have been doing everything he could to run and get away from the Order, right? Any sane person...

But Allen Walker was a small man that moved in tune to the world he was immediately in. It was a little stupid and not the life for most people and he knew that, but it was his life and who he was. You could please get out now.

But he is sorry if it hurt anyone.

It was as such that, having even just shown up and barely understanding what was going on, being half-convinced he and Rhode had been sealed in a town by Innocence, but sincerely beginning to sincerely doubt that... He had kind of snuck away from her, too. Allen could smell disapproval, and they weren't exactly on the best of speaking terms anyway.
And he had pieced together enough, you see, from talking with Hope and hearing what others were saying on this strange little communication device.  Enough that... Well. He still didn't

[worldbelow]

The video, the words spoken, all of it had pulled Hades into quite a curious state. It was the way others reacted that caused the most curious feeling to stir within the god. A feeling of foreboding, as if this man… this being with his unusual words, was one to fear. And Hades had never felt such feelings before. He had never felt much of anything, really, even though he was the most connected to the mortals. To Earth. The Greeks had had such stories to tell about his family, his brothers and their false gods. There were five. Five gods counting himself, no more, no less. He had no wife, he was not petty and cruel. He was the ruler of their final resting place. What was above belonged to Zeus, what was below belonged rightfully to him, and what was in-between was Poseidon’s dominion. There was nothing for Hades to fear, or so he thought. He had never tested the words out loud, not curious enough for that. However… he was curious about this S-Mart. A place the humans of this place needed to go

[hehsebamon]

Propping an elbow over a raised knee, Hehsebamon watched each of them approach, the bemusement refusing to fade. The morning's work had already proven interesting, particularly lacking in actual danger, but interesting. So he was in a proper good mood. When Allen asked his name, Hehsebamon neither confirmed nor denied Hades words. Many had asked his name today, and it was sure to be bandied back and forth soon enough.

"Amun Hehseb," he answered as he stood to his ungainly height. More than half way between six and seven feet tall as he was, the unfolding of that height as he stood seemed far too deliberate.

"Humble, though highly favored, priest of Sehkmet." His hand folded over his stomach an Hehsebamon bowed low before them, or rather above them, but if anything the sentiment seemed mocking amidst the context of bodies nailed to walls and the blood that spattered the parking lot.

When he stood straight he was smiling, a wild glint in his eye. "One who would hope to call you friend."

[singingalleluia]

You know, Allen didn't like people suddenly coming up from behind him or that sort of thing.

Not a bad reaction, mind you, but he was clearly startled at another approaching with him. A quick little jerk of surprise before he quickly blurted out, "Ah, what are you-" But it was a quickly cut off kind of thing from surprise. Still, the kind of shifting and orienting of one's body-concern, you shouldn't be here, it's dangerous. "The hospital-"

The man's appearance.

It's not that Allen wasn't used to strange and unusual things, but the sight of one so tall, pale, horns-

It was a flash of surprise for a moment where one's trying to decide if someone is about to smite you the next instant or not. Because something just seemed familiar about that, the shadow coming up from behind as easily as an old friend might-the uncomfortable kind of familiarity.

It was... uneasy... but you didn't look the sort he should warn to hide in the hospital, Hades. Not Noah, not akuma, but... what then? Who?

Even with what he's been through-honestly, what