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 Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 6:48 pm
 I'm so sorry if these seething words I say impress on you
that I've become anathema of my soul
I can't say that you're losing me.
I always tried to keep myself tied to this world but I know where this is leading... Sestran
Leader of the HellfiresSestran Omake One: Infernal Video Games The leader of Heuco Mundo lounged in the throne within Las Noches, the silver light clearly showing his colorless skin. Creating small glimmers on the sand gathered into one of the rooms corners. A dry breeze curled through slits beyond the rows of pillars around the raised dias where his seat was placed. Though if the 'king' was concerned with the state of cleanliness (or lack thereof) it wasn't something any of his underlings could notice.
Sestran had a fair amount of hollow around him, the monstrous creatures were under his sway though he wasn't paying them any mind. Instead small chimes and beeps echoed lightly in the massive room, gentle illumination reflecting in the man's currently red eyes as he stared at the small lcd screen on the small box one of his underlings had given him. They were hoping to win some favor by helping to alleviate his boredom.
A 'video game' was the way they'd described it to him, and it had at least temporarily distracted him. Many of the hollow with any idea as to what it was weren't sure how to react to the absurdly powerful man that had forced them into service playing a Nintendo 3DS. Not that he was concerned with the opinions of the nameless masses, he was much too intent on trying to 'catch them all' with the strange animated creatures whose story he'd been following for a few hours.
"No, I insist you desist this action immediately." His comments were toward the infernally tricky box in his hands. He'd lost his latest bout in the game, the image of the boy he controlled on the screen falling to their knees in a pathetic display. Not that it did him any good as the boxes characters seemed immune to his Majesty. The enemy that had just defeated his representative had been brought low once in the past yet they would not heed his commands. His eyebrow twitched slightly, crimson gaze nearly glaring a moment before his expression cleared and he set the game to the side.
"I disapprove of this diversion, it's design is illogical and poorly planned. You two, go and bring back an acceptable alternative." Sestran commented toward a pair near the door with a point and then single dismissive wave of his hand. It wasn't as though he considered them as more than shock troops, fodder to be tossed into the vanguard if it came to open war. The hollow couldn't refuse, though the ones that left looked disturbed, this was the third time they'd been sent out...running out of games to bring back eventually couldn't spell anything good for them.(OOC: Something about him being irritated at majesty not working on video games just tickles me...)Position: Las Noches Throne Room
With: No one of importance
Thoughts: Vexing box...
Release State: Sealed.
Theme
...but I must be that which I am though I know where this could take me
No tears. No sympathy.
Gracefully. Respectfully.
Facing conflict deep inside myself.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2012 6:52 am
I'm so sorry if these seething words I say impress on you
that I've become anathema of my soul
I can't say that you're losing me.
I always tried to keep myself tied to this world but I know where this is leading... Sestran
Leader of the HellfiresDew glimmered from the needles and leaves of the trees around the pale man walking along the forest floor with surprising silence for the thick grasses and bushes around him. Sestran didn’t generally enjoy visiting the living world; it was so changed from before the time of his imprisonment. The area outside of the city though was different. The natural surroundings were an enjoyable peace, definitely a vacation when compared to the bland sands of Heuco Mundo.
Still, this was the only place he could wander without having to concern himself with keeping up the illusions. It was away from other humans and it was a break from concerning himself with the politics of his own armies. He couldn’t tolerate even the appearance of weakness. For as quirky as Sestran sometimes seemed he didn’t hesitate to destroy any that would mistake his oddity in personality as vulnerability.
It became easy in that setting to forget himself, but these moments alone reminded him more fully of what he’d lost. That only served to reinforce his resolve; everything had been stolen from him…even his color. He had reached up to push a branch from his path and the rays of light coming down through the trees seemed to further mock his alabaster skin. He’d been pale before his years in hell…but that didn’t come close to describing the ghostly paste he was now…
He glanced up toward the forest again, perking a brow slightly as he considered it. Perhaps he could return the color that had drained away from him? If he was going to destroy himself for his vengeance didn’t he deserve to do it as who had been when he was cast aside? His hand lowered instead to touch the hilt of his zanpakuto, drawing it out next to him.
“Pandemonium.” He hadn’t required the use of his resurrection for weeks and it seemed just the name of his blade without the rest of the incantation was enough to make it pulse with malevolent energy before he even finished his statement. “Let chaos reign.”
His form shifted only slightly, the points of two pairs of horns poking through his hair. He altered his grip as the blade extended into a long massive spear that was somewhat akin to a glaive from the size of the blade though not by its shape. Immediately the dew evaporated from the leaves and grass; which were already turning brown as the life seemed to seep away from them. The trunks of the trees near him splintered and the branch that he had only raised a hand to move fell away as dust when he moved by. He watched his arm as he walked, leaving a trail of death in his wake as the presence of his resurrection absorbed the color from the world around him…
Yet it wasn’t offering him the complexion he hoped to regain as he moved. With a sigh his blade returned to its sealed shape and he returned it to his belt. He glanced back at the line of death he’d left as a result of his passing and sighed. It was instead further reminder of what he'd lost. Death was the only thing he could offer the world, he needed to return to Heuco Mundo. Illusions were all that remained to bring color into Sestran's world…Position: Thick Forests outside Karakura Town
With: No one
Thoughts: My path remains resolute...
Release State: Sealed. Then not Sealed, then Sealed again.
Theme
...but I must be that which I am though I know where this could take me
No tears. No sympathy.
Gracefully. Respectfully.
Facing conflict deep inside myself.
But here confined...Losing control of what I could not change...
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 7:35 pm
I'm so sorry if these seething words I say impress on you
that I've become anathema of my soul
I can't say that you're losing me.
I always tried to keep myself tied to this world but I know where this is leading... Sestran
Leader of the HellfiresSestran Omake Three: Collecting Pawns Despite her best intentions, her legs weren't moving, her knees were quivering and yet her body was locked into place as she stared at the brilliant crimson fury of the man in front of her. It wasn't as if she wanted to stare into the rage filled blooded pits of Sestran's eyes but her mind, much like her bodies inability to leave, refused to look away from it. It was some unspoken understanding of unease, a stark recognition of a mouse lost in the eyes of a snake – there was futility in running. For the first time in over a decades the soul reaper felt as if she were the hollow's prey. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue for all it's silver at times for her superior's was lead in her mouth, she couldn't even get her lips to part – what manner of protest could she even offer?
“I suppose I should take a moment to thank you...you've been kind enough to teach me so much as to the ruling parties after all. You, one of the self-appointed angelic protectors of the world. The high and mighty soul reapers who would teach those beneath them the truth. It was so kind of you to utter the things we required for information.” Even in his arctic politeness Sestran's neutral voice managed to have some numbed form of indignation.
“They'll know I'm gone, they'll come to look for me.” Her desperation was clear – she'd finally found her voice only to utter such petty attempts to cow him into allowing her to live. He heard the small group of laughter nearby, watched her quietly as the sweat beaded and left a small line of moisture where it fell down along her temple, trailing to her cheek. He let the fear set in, the realization that she was not going to find a way free of this. Of course, the wretches of society always did grasp at straws in futile attempts to climb from the pits they landed in. “You said if I told you what you wanted to know you'd let me go.”
“Better not to place words on my tongue.” Sestran remarked, the silent anger so clear in the depths of his gaze – the growing conflagration from when she'd first walked into his throne room only a few minutes ago – lead by some of the hollow that guarded her. “What I said, is if I find you to be honorable and truthful in your actions toward me that I would spare you the fate I'd already thought up for you. There is no honor in what you've done today.”
She'd been a fount of information, names, positions, powers, even relationships – this particular soul reaper must have been quite the gossip. Yet, she wasn't as important as she would hope, she held no seated position of her own, given her placement in the twelfth squadron Sestran doubted an inquiry would ever reach anyone – just one more of the pawns that died in a dangerous mission to Hueco Mundo.
“I told you everything.” She protested, her fear turning to anger as she returned a narrowed expression at the hellfire leader. He laughed at her, it was as cool as the rest of his expression yet it held the same shadowed violence – a whisper of promised ferocity.
“Betrayal child, is the sweetest sin, yet one people dive into most fiercely. Physical agony has it's place but it's less intimate, so much less subtle than the festering fungal nature of a lost trust. It's like a poisonous dagger, it starts out as a harsh strike – something that drives itself deep into your chest to lie waste to any dryness in your eyes. Then it lingers – that's the worst part, the most unfortunate part of betrayal – it doesn't go away. A physical wound eventually closes, it scars, but the body manages to move on. Yet the mind, the heart, continues to bleed – it can never forget what's come to pass. It lies open, sitting there as an elephant in the room most people are uncomfortable mentioning but impossible to forget. People may ignore it from time to time but they can't ever stop seeing it's presence. The pure longevity of such disloyalty is the most cruel – it eats away at the mind, the soul, until it leaves a black spot that cannot be colored in – a point in space that can be painted around but is impossible to cover up. Some try, but they all fail, because in the end it is such moments of clarity that define us – the purest emotions that we can not let go. If you find someone that claims forgiveness then they are perhaps the best liars of all – as if they are being 'honest'; they've only managed to delude even themselves of the truth they will always know – that they've been burned before.”
The woman in front of him only scowled, as if confused at the sudden tirade. Yet when she opened her mouth to speak it was actions as opposed to words that muted her. Everything suddenly faded from the man in front of her, it was as if suddenly a wash of white paint had gone over him – only his eyes – those hateful rubies that glittered at her even while the rest of him bleached away – held any of the spectrum.
“And it fits, it's so much more personal a crime. It isn't like some brute that bruises a cheek in a bar fight – no no, betrayal is much more permanent – it doesn't bruise the flesh it brands the soul.” He finished, perking up his lips as he settled a hand on the hilt of Pandemonium. “You deserve and will garner no mercy from me child. Death is much too kind a fate for you. Instead I'll turn you into a poison of my own design, I'll need a spy inside the soul society – someone to get me the needed information for my revolution - now kneel, by your own volition or mine. It makes no difference in the end.”
The moisture on the woman's face wasn't sweat as she sunk to her knees. Position: Las Noches Throne Room
With: No one of importance
Thoughts: A wretch, but a tool nonetheless.
Release State: Sealed.
Theme
...but I must be that which I am though I know where this could take me
No tears. No sympathy.
Gracefully. Respectfully.
Facing conflict deep inside myself.
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* 
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