. . . and I have touched the sky

There is a large Hole hanging in the air like a rip in the trousers hakama of reality.

There is a battered figure in black stumbling through it.

There are a number of figures in white coming after him.

Soi Fong leads Zaraki to her office. Features that he might notice include the nightingale boards in the corridor outside, the soundproofed atmosphere inside the office, and similar things that one might expect of the Covert Operations types.

She gestures him to a seat. She hasn't tried to remove Yachiru (possibly guessing how futile it would be), though her eyes have flicked more than once to Yachiru's empty sash.

"All right," she says. "What happened, Zaraki-taichou?"

"Hell yeah!" Grimmjow crows in response to Zaraki, sounding downright gleeful.

He makes little effort to dodge Zaraki's blow, intent on delivering the full blast of the cero, regardless of the imminent damage. Maybe he could've poured more into it, but with a time limit facing him down, Grimmjow hurries, forcing a last rush of reiatsu into the cero, releasing the blast. As the energy pours out, he takes the punch, rocking back with the force of it.

[OOC: Copied to provide reference.]

With the same resolve that Grimmjow had in facing down the punch, Zaraki stands his ground. The last thing that can be seen in the enveloping blast of the cero is Zaraki's crazed grin. An explosion of massive proportion begins at the point of contact between the two.

At the same time, Zaraki's been busy. He didn't just raise his reiatsu for the punch. Crackling yellow energy coats him, doing its best to shield him from the brunt of the cero. He pushes more reiatsu out, willing himself to hold his grip on Grimmjow's hand. A proof, as it were, to his opponent that Zaraki is capable of taking anything that the Hollow can dish out. At this stage, Zaraki barely even considers the fight to have started.

[OOC: I'll leave it to you to describe what happens after the cero and explosion disperses. Feel free to assign the corresponding amount of damage to Zaraki as well.]

The skies are white and grey. The sands are white and grey. The billowing hills make it hard to be sure what could be beyond them. Perhaps the next dip will hide Aizen's hideaway.

The Hole still hangs in the air, not closed yet, a shimmering spot of colour in a pale land.

The return of Zaraki would go mostly unheralded. He and Madarame Ikkaku arrive just as they tend to - smelling of sake and none the worse for wear. There aren't many challenges in Seireitai that would leave the two of these men suffering. Not any, probably. The Captain and Third Seat of Eleventh Squad are quite a formidable force even separate, but together?

No, their return was only special for a few. Specifically, the two who Zaraki was expecting to find waiting at his main building. Ayasegawa Yumichika, his fifth seat and current mastermind behind their plan, and Kusajishi Yachiru-chan, his second-in-command. He'd left the two of them working on a way to cover up their trip to Hueco Mundo and hopefully now, everything would be set.

(OOC: Continued from the Eleventh Division Thread)

Zaraki laughs at Ikkaku's words. "Don't let all your eagerness show right there, Ikkaku. We're not gonna battle right now."

The captain grins. "We're goin' drinking."

His laughter sounds again, powerful with a slight edge to it. He easily winds his way through the Eleventh's back alleys, though it becomes apparent rather quickly that the ease he's navigating them with is because he doesn't really care where he ends up.

Eventually, perhaps even after Ikkaku takes a more active role in directing them, the two manage to escape the confines of Seireitai and enter the more relaxed Rukongai. Here, Zaraki feels a certain amount of belonging, though it's only visible through his more relaxed manner, the way he carries himself. Ikkaku would feel it easily.

Suddenly, as if with a mind of their own, Zaraki's feet seem to recall a path and a drinking establishment is found. If walls could talk, these would sing stories of Zaraki's bloody past and the times he spent drinking himself stupid here. And it feels good to be back.

"C'mon, Ikkaku. It's on me."

Yumichika's had enough of an Ikkaku-less Eleventh and has shown up this fine morning in Fourth Division with a change of clothing for the patient and -- if you're staff -- a smile to match his beauty. He lingers near the front desk, rather than barge right in to Ikkaku's room.

[OOC, anyone can feel free to run into Yumichika in Fourth as he claims his wayward Division partner. ^_^]

Captain Kurotsuchi, unattended, sweeps into the center of Eleventh Division, bearing little more than a notepad and a writing implement -- unless he has something secretively tucked away in the voluminous folds of his robe. With little preamble, he asks the first shinigami he finds where Captain Zaraki and Third Seat Madarame are.

Madarame Ikkaku is waking up, and is probably coherent enough to be questioned.

[Anyone who wants to do so, feel free.]

There are indeed various things waiting for Zaraki at Eleventh. There are shinigami from both Fourth and Twelfth, waiting to give reports; there's Yachiru demanding to know what happened; there's Yumichika attempting to give a report while clearly wanting to know what happened; there's a request from Soi Fong that he come by and tell her what happened; and there are a couple of men from Twelfth carrying a large lead-lined box with heavy gloves and requesting the return of the Gadget.

A Captain's life is a busy one.

There is a flash as a gate from the mortal world swings open, and Zaraki Kenpachi steps through, an unconscious and bleeding Ikkaku in his arms. Abarai Renji follows, closing the gate behind him.

It is bright daylight. Birds are singing. Panicked shinigami guards run round and hold their weapons nervously, not quite sure yet whether this is an invasion attempt in cunning disguise.


[OOC Note: this post assumes that there is some sort of central arrival point in Seireitai for those Captains and Vice-Captains arriving from Earth, unless they have sufficient proficiency/technical ability to direct their transit more precisely. Renji probably does not.]

The night is dark and the streets silent. There does not appear to be anything interesting going on in the immediate vicinity.

Ikkaku lies there, wounds oozing slowly, still unconscious.

Somewhere a few miles away, there's some sort of minor reiatsu disturbance going on, but it's nothing on the level of the Aizen + Arrankar that Zaraki and Renji just left behind.

[Note: our heroes would probably be aware that this must be Karakura, given that it's obviously not Seireitai or Hueco Mundo, but otherwise there aren't any obvious geographical clues to where Ichigo lives or other places of interest.]

Having dispatched his duty to Sixth, bathed and opted for a change of hakama, Renji heads to Eleventh late at night. His intent is to hopefully find Zaraki awake. Or, barring that, to pass the time until Zaraki is. And so he pads through familiar back alleys, eschewing invites to drink, and approaches headquarters.

Lost in thought, a stack of papers tucked under one arm, Renji exits Sixth, heading in the general direction of Fourth. He seems to be in no particular hurry to get there, his ambling gait definitely taking the scenic route.

Yumichika is waiting in Zaraki's office for his Captain to return.

He's got something to tell his Captain. He doesn't think his Captain is going to like it.

Soi Fong and Zaraki Kenpachi have dropped by. They are inquiring as to the whereabouts of Matsumoto-fukutaichou.


[OOC note: they want to ask about the bathhouse incident and its implications. If Matsumoto's player is busy, then just let us know and we'll go read the log and assume the character gave us a full description of events.]

Zaraki-taichou and Yachiru-chan were seated in Eleventh Squad's "office", or the closest approximation. The desk and cabinets had long been destroyed during some random fight and there hadn't been any reason to replace them. Zaraki was notorious amongst the captains for not actually taking care of any of the duties or paperwork that busy most of the officials of Soul Society.

Now however, he was pondering something of a somewhat...important matter. He was debating where to take his current information. He knew that 12th Squad was doing research on the Holes, but the figure he saw inside somehow made him reconsider telling any of those scientists about it. Seemed a little out of their league, especially with the way that guy had stated his intentions.

A fight with me? Intended target? Who did that kid think he was? These thoughts swirled in Kenpachi's head.

The first choice to tell was 12th, but 2nd was always poking around with secrets and stuff, too.

"Pah! I'm no fuckin' good with decisions like this." He grunted to himself in frustration after his outburst. A moment later, he shot a sidelong glance at Yachiru-chan. Maybe she could just handle it...

Not terribly long after Zaraki arrives back in Eleventh, six young men, all sporting white lab coats and shiny black doctor's cases, arrive in Eleventh's central location, where all the hubbub is.

They politely approach someone official -- Eleventh or Fourth, it doesn't much matter -- and ask to speak to Zaraki-taichou or Unohana-taichou, stating that they are from Twelfth, on behalf of Kurotsuchi-taichou.

Hours later, Captain Zaraki Kenpachi was mostly just lost. He pursed his lips slightly and sucked some air in, making a noise of resignation. Time to give up and actually get some help. The only way he knew how, of course.

A few minutes later, in another, more trafficked area, Kenpachi snatched up a low ranking shinigami from 12th Squad. He was holding him by his robes off the ground and he grinned in the man's face.

"Oi, you. I need to arrange a meetin' with Kurotsuchi-taichou. You tell him that Zaraki's come to collect on a dis-service. He should know what I'm talking about." With his piece said, the captain tossed the guy to the ground. The shaken shinigami landed on his feet, paused for a moment then turned to run off, presumably to deliver the message.

Now to wait, Kenpachi thought.

The lunch hour has passed and most people have returned to their jobs. The streets are only moderately busy.

The sun shines down as if nothing had happened.

A Hole glides slowly along, moving at perhaps a few inches a minute, a rippling gash in space and reality. People avoid it, not even realising it is there, with the occasional atavistic twitch like dogs before an earthquake.