Zume Tatasuko
[video=youtube;mQTVuJh0-Bs]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQTVuJh0-Bs&list=FLnk6loN731DITRrUGwuXVTg[/video]
They had arrived at around the same time as their opponents, and while he had been expecting it to a degree, the change of scenery was still drastic to that which he was familiar. However, he had seen the lands of the world of the living, jungles. This was certainly something of that nature, he supposed, though vastly different then what might be found on earth, he figured. Glancing to his partner, Zume's hazel eyes scanned her form briefly, taking her in as best he could, and then he glanced over to the pair who would be their adversaries.
'Amusing,' he thought to himself as he looked over the two, taking in the details of their more physical manifestations. He wondered how they worked on other levels though, yes he was quite curious of this. The thought ran through his abyssal, seemingly endless, mind
'perhaps I will analyze what is left when I am done here.' A smile crossed his face as several realizations began to surface in his facade's psyche, the psyche of the 1st and outermost layer of his complex mind.
Glancing to his companion and comrade in battle, the three primary levels of his mentality began to once more contemplate her purpose to him. She was merely for support, he figured, afterall he was entirely capable of handling himself, he
was a captain and a veteran at that. His smile broadened slightly on one edge of its curve, forming a smirk, as he considered the possibilities of the conflict that he knew neared.
She had range, she had some measure of 'magic', and she could support while he both attacked and defended, it was truly all he needed. However, he could have had better counterparts in battle. Glancing from her again and letting his senses drink in their surroundings, as they stood on high ground of their own, he noted that field advantage would be of little consequence here, hopefully. Not that anything elemental or magical had any form of power against him. No, nothing short of direct physical assault would be of any true effectivity, his capabilities would make sure of that. However, despite this, he would not underestimate the possibilities that his two adversaries might possess magical abilities capable of overcoming his dominance, and particularly unique
immunity, in such fields.
As these observations were made, primarily by his myriad persona, the surface personalities that typically thought themselves in control of Zume's actions, the core of Zume's magnificent consciousness mused to itself in silent comprehension. First would be trickery, it considered, for it would be best not to reveal his true nature in the introduction of these other entities, no that would be foolish. Combat and deception went hand in hand. At the thought of such dark concepts, ones he enjoyed thoroughly in most any situation, his left hand grazed the tsuka of his katana, its wrapped grip smoothly glancing his flesh.
The white edges, with black dots, of his haori blew in the wind gently the same as the baggy form of his shihakusho billowed out as the wind blew past and through them gently. Zume, inwardly, began to laugh, while on the surface of his mind a new persona began to swiftly construct itself. This would be a blank slate, yes, and such were always intriguing. It would be a chance for him to forge an entirely new identity, one that would be ideal in defeating those who opposed him, and
guiding the one who stood at his side as comrade in arms, as an unknowing tool in yet another facet of Zume's ever expanding and complexifying grand scheme.
Still, within the mires of his mind their roiled a debate of many voices, voices which had once been both the false tones of schizophrenia and the true psychological diversions of multiple personality disorder (aka dissociative personality disorder), but were now tools to the central, and only, true mind of the man that was Zume Tatasuko. Despite this debate, there was ever purpose and absolute clarity in his mind. It was only chaos to those who did not understand, and Zume quite well understood himself.
"Consider yourself lucky, my dear Vera, for you are my ally, and not theirs."
Zume had turned to the willowy, attractive female, but only his head had shifted its angle, while the rest of him remained seemingly relaxed yet simultaneously ready to defend, strike, attack, or any other manner of actions at the drop of a dime, so to speak. As he gazed at her, there was a look of admiration, and a thick enchanting charm in his tone.
"For to be my comrade in arms, is to be infinitely more lucky than my, no our, enemies." It was strange, for despite the words he said, which from most anyone else would sound or appear arrogant, they sounded only soft and kind. It was as if Zume was gently placing a comforting mantle over Vera. It spoke volumes, likely, of how much he cared for her.
Sadly, and entirely unknown to her, it was entirely a farce, an act, a ploy, a deception of the mind. However, Zume was no actor, it was merely that each and every persona he created was perfect, or nearly so, at the purpose it was given and the methods through which it should act.
Regardless, the persona now in command, or appearing as the true Zume rather, would turn its gaze back to their enemies, and then it would smile. A soft, kind thing was this expression, similar to the one from earlier, but gilded with less amusement and more pity. It was as if Zume felt bad about what he was soon going to subject his opponents to.
He did not, but the persona did.
As the wind continued to blow, ruffling his hair gently, the soft expression on Zume's face remained as words carried across the moving air to their adversaries.
"Might we know your names? I will gladly offer mine, of course, such is only polite." Sweeping his arm and bowing slightly, only to rise gracefully afterwards, he then stated
"I am Zume Tatasuko, Captain of the 12th division of the gotei thirteen and the second head of the Research and Developement Institute."
While the facade was being polite, the core of Zume's mentality figured that revealing his rank, division, and station was of little consequence here. He was doubtful that either his adversaries or his allies would know the meaning behind his words. Thus, it did not matter, however, even if the terms meant something, they would benefit him in a way.
Knowledge of his rank could warrant him two things, fear or respect. It did not matter if these were opponents or not, for both of these things were base to the mind of any warrior, any true warrior that is. Considering something, the core prompted its facade to turn now to Vera once more and speak, kindly but now with request these words,
"Oh, Vera, do give them your name, it is only polite." The core chuckled to itself, internally of course, as their names would soon matter very little to the two beings who stood in front of them. They would soon be dead.
Of course, that was if they were successful, there was always the possibility of failure. A very unlikely possibility though it was.
Yes...
unlikely indeed.