#princeofsilence

[winterherz]

[ small starter for @princeofsilence ]

Gruesome.

That was the only way to describe the scene before them. Among the debris and destruction, it wasn’t difficult to miss that someone was still alive beneath the spray and splatter of blood. 

Although alive was a generous term for what Byakuya looked like. There was more blood on the wall than inside of his ragged body. The only thing keeping him upright was the fact that he’d been blasted into this former wall. His chest barely rose at all, and his reiatsu was draining away like filthy water down a drain. 

Pitiful, terrible, haunting. That wasn’t how someone bearing the Kuchiki name should be, or die.

Toshiro clambered over the mess.

“Matsumoto. Go get captain Unohana, immediately.”

[dergo-gaoth-blog]

[howling-hound]

Literacy || Prince-Of-Silence

X

❀Byakuya had been passively curious about how his newly appointed vice captain would handle his first ream of paperwork. There was no room for failure — his instruction had been deliberate and executed with the utmost clarity. There were no ill feelings towards the transfer officer at this time, the nobleman’s peace of mind balanced on the scale of indifference. Call today a test or not, his expectations would be the same be his lieutenant a veteran shinigami or fresh from the academy. ❀When Renji entered, he would face the back of his new captain. With a stiff spine, the proud leader would observe his garden surrounding the ringingly silent office until he finally addressed his subordinate at the very frayed hem of his serene pause. There was nothing given back but a curt and impersonal greeting, the captain seemingly more interested in the papers than the presence of his vice.  Yes, yes that was enough. "Were you not taught that it is respectful to bow before your superiors, First Lieutenant Abarai?" Byakuya asked without as much as a glance towards Renji’s dark eyes. He had pointedly used the nerve-ridden man’s full name before taking the papers, hoping that it may have a lasting effect as his lessons often did. Bad manners irritated him, along with many other things. For a silent few moments, the Kuchiki thumbed quickly through the messily clipped stack, brow immediately plummeting. What in the world… the penmanship was awful, dreadfully messy as if scratched into soap with a broken stick. He frowned in evident distaste, seemingly thinking that they were crafted instead from mud. In only a moment’s time, he looked up but not at, the cold steel eyes screaming disappointment.  ❀He was… this was ridiculous and the promised ‘order’ seemed to be made up entirely.  "Were you not instructed to write properly either? This is completely illegible." 

  || Back in eleventh, things were a lot less formal than this, there wasn't what seemed to be a wall between you and the superior, because the captain was one of you. It made you feel connected with everyone else, but here? It couldn't be more of a contrast. The whipping cold of the Noble's comment made him realize how much of a culture shock this was. It was nothing like he was used to-- and it didn't help that the very person he was now working directly under was one he wished to surpass. Countless training hours, broken bones and spilled blood under the tutor ship of Madarame, for this man... No.

   For Rukia.

   "Not used to it honestly, I'll remember to do it next time. Sorry... Sir!" That low voice still jarred him in his name use, almost making him forget the formal title in addressing the other and reminding him of his new position. Despite his wants and goals, Renji still had a duty to uphold. Damn. The redhead resisted bringing up a hand to scratch at his neck out of nerves when he watched the other thumb through the papers, the new lieutenant did try his best on them and was interested in the verdict.

   By the way black brows were pinching together though and when those hard, new moon eyes hardened on him, the mutt's mood sank into a dreadful feeling in his gut, lips thinning as he looked away from that disappointed stare. Of course it wouldn't be good enough for the head of the Kuchiki clan. He wasn't good enough. It wasn't like the tattooed man had the most stellar of upbringings and even though he went through the academy they didn't touch on writing all that much, just enough to get by a hoped that the divisions would refine their skills in that area. Well, nearly all of that was forgotten in the forty years he had been in eleventh division, paperwork hardly a thing ever passing through his fingers.

   It embarrassed him greatly; teeth grit as he tried to reign in the anger that flared from the cold, biting words. The dog was backed into a corner and didn't know how to fix it other than pull the proverbial tail between his legs. There was no excuses, only truths that wanted to spill from his mouth, but why should he admit that to Kuchiki? It would just give him fuel to humiliate him more. Bet it was nice knowing how to read and write for most of your life and being able to focus on other things than starving to death! Red stained his cheeks despite his efforts, having no control over such a function.

   "Sorry, sir. I'll do them over again." What else could he say? Knowing the real reason would be worse. Better just take it and try harder, he could learn to better it on his own. 

[howling-hound]

☱

Your character has just discovered my character's journal/diary.

  || The page the noble had turned to was in sketchy scrawl, not by any means neat handwriting, but it was getting better under his tutorship. The noble had suggested him to keep a journal for his own health. To the red-head, that sounded really silly and embarrassing but he took the advice and did it every now and then when he was feeling particularly overwhelmed. The lieutenant would never admit that it does help. This specific page was filled with idle ramblings, some sentences terribly scribbled out and still legible.

   ’Missing the eleventh today. I tried getting a group together to play a game but almost everyone had so much work or were too nervous to. It sounds like a really stupid thing to complain about when putting down on paper, but I miss how close everyone is. I know I can go over there anytime but I want that here too. Is that selfish? It’s selfish. Most people are scared of me here still. They put a wall up where they shouldn’t be one, I’m not untouchable or a monster. I used to think that once though…

  It’s isolating. Is this how almost all higher ranks feel? 

   Whatever, I just got to keep trying. Duty is important, but so is being able to enjoy yourself with friends and people you work with. We’re all people.’ 

[littlematchstickmomo-blog]

prince-of-silence replied to your photo

Ahh, I’m sorry!

//OH NO ITS OK i made this post as an attempt at humor its ok you can reblog whatever you like

[howling-hound]

Watches the world burn.

[howling-hound]

"You're in my way."

  || Language is a funny thing, they detail the bold lines of the world. Each voice a brush, small or large, thin or broad, painting the air and people with tone, feelings, be it abstract or organic. They can stir wills, inspire those around them; bring bubbling happiness and joy or obliterating spirits, driving people into their knees in ruin. Emotions define the color and hue, conditional with varying intensity— From overwhelming to minimal.

   It all depended on context.

   "Sorry, sir!" The red head moved his body from the middle of the slim corridor, having obstructed Kuchiki’s path unwittingly. The Captain was in an awfully terrible mood to say it like that… A squared hand came up, scratching lightly at red nape hairs in worry. Hopefully the other was in a better mood later, they were supposed to have tea after work! It always ended up terribly awkward when the slight man got like this, it usually made him more silent than usual.

   A blank slate made him fidgety.