STARCROSSED BATTLE [EVENT!]

Wrath? No. It was something much more simple. Guilt, the guilt of being a bystander. The guilt of not speaking up to the atrocities that war could make, and the guilt of helping in those atrocities. How many people had he killed indirectly? How many people had cried and died thanks to his cause? How many times had he ignored the very thing that made him human?

Apollo couldn't count. Alike the boy with wings, Icarus, who came too close to the sun, Apollo's energy dropped out of him like a bird having their wings torn off. No blood followed, only a deep silence as his golden aura, which was so vibrant and free in the air dimmed out, clouding over, burning as he fell, and fell, and fell... His body dropped, and fell, falling off the side of the building. He did not drop too quickly, however, but he still fell, the whisps of his energy the only thing holding onto him as he dropped.

[exit]

"Alright... she's good." was all he was given the chance to think before a light was used to punish the agent. He writhed and fled, but not before the cavalry arrived. His body, even with the suit, felt heavy, and his bones shook with the power reverberating from every angle. They were all powerful, just as powerful as the angel, and suddenly he experienced a sensation of fear. Fear that he would be caught in a cross-fire that he didn't need to be.

Justice's sprint slowed and stopped, his guns lowering to his sides as he blankly stared at the man he soared above, his feet standing on nothing but the air beneath him. The weapons sank into their holsters, and by force of habit, the right met the bank of his head to scratch in indecision. An awkward gesture seeing as a helmet prevented the touch. "Damn... to be or not to be... a hero. I have this gut feeling that this shit will blow up in my face in a second. This shit being the building." he mused quickly, his eyes and targeting scanners tracing the outlines of the newly approach warriors. Even those not directly in the line of sight, his HUD directed itself to.

"Ah, you guys seem to have a lot of catching up to do... So I'll just kind of... wait over there until it's my turn." Justice laughed in a timid voice, though the mask only echoed out a baritone and manly sound. The hero vaulted from the room, sailing several meters in the air before finding himself rolling onto a nearby roof. A quick seat on one of the vents that embellished the top, and with a leg limply crossed over the other, he watched. Afraid and amused of the situation in front of his eyes.

A flash of steel, movement brief and expression platonic.

One would notice with proper spiritual perception that Seijirou wasn't as powerful as they would expect from a captain. This in itself was strange, for those of the captain-class were mentioned to be behemoths- so strong they could destroy armies merely with a swing of their zanpaktou. Surely this male didn't fit the picture, yes? Surely Phoebe would have noticed such a thing before she fired her shots, yes? This in itself most-likely coming off as extremely strange to any that knew a captain's reiatsu, Seijirou didn't explain why he had chosen not to remove his limiter as of yet. Rather, he merely tilted his head off to right side, flat of blade guiding itself with precise and flowing movement, guarding against the shots aimed to strike him. Spiritual power gleaming from his blade entirely- washing away and off to his side as he sighed in reply to her action, he spoke aloud- for both those of the Twelfth division to hear, and Phoebe herself.

"Know what.. I won't need Gentei Kaijo at all. She isn't worth the effort."

If one knew him personally, they would know he wasn't being condescending in the least- rather, he just didn't want to try against an opponent like her. Thus, shifting himself accordingly and readying himself to enter stance, his eyes widened briefly, taking into account the new appearance of spiritual power. One that surpassed his own by leaps and bounds at his level. One that he wouldn't be able to match- especially in such a confined space and area. An Arrancar? Espada? If so, what number did he rank at? He wasn't much to keep track of all the details. Seijirou just about scoffed. "I mind. I'm not going to let you have her, bro. She's mine, i've claimed her, and i'm taking her back with me. You can leave, and take your indulgence elsewhere, lest we have to deal with you as well." He wasn't being cocky in the least, nor did he mean any harm. He trusted his comrade- his superior, and his mentor Yoshiro greatly. That was why he assumed his stance of Chūdan-no-kamae.


Both hands placed upon hilt of blade, he kept left hand upon the end, with right nearing guard and zanpaktou held at a slight diagonal- aimed directly for Phoebe's head. It would be in this moment that his mastery over the sword arts would come into play- entire stance giving off an air of unrivaled experience and strength. Even without his reiatsu pouring out in full, he gave off a menacing appearance. No more time for words. Rather, he was focused upon one goal, now.

She held great power within her strikes, and if he took one head-on, he'd probably die. But... he was more than ready for such an outcome.

While Phoebe might be one to have the capability to hold back her justified rage, and reason with herself somewhat, Alastar was another story. His smiles, his facade of his calm all slowly bled away, his smile turning into a frown, and his eyes narrowing. Bloodlust, that's what one could call it, an overwhelming feeling, one that seemed to thicken the air.

"I had at the very least hoped for some form of respect." Alastar spoke, his voice silent and cold, violent even. With a single step forwards in the direction of Seta and Phoebe, the horrid feeling of an an unmatched power washed over the area. Buildings stirred where they sat, crumbling into themselves and being tossed away into the wind as dust. Anything that was not the ground itself, even the hills, began to cave into themselves, the pressure that Alastar was now releasing weighing heavily over everyone and thing within the vicinity.

Alastar's body continued forwards, and with it the wall of energy which warped over the area moved in combination. More buildings, even from blocks away, shattered and blew away. It was an unfortunate circumstance that Alastar was fighting in Newyork, albeit it might have been worse in Tokyo, with so many buildings so close together, his sheer ability to stand would probably level the entire city if he got around to it. The mindless destruction would be more then gratifying to the angered Cero Espada too, as all around the group for several blocks buildings shattered and blew away in the wind, returning to rubble. In comparison to what power he had showed Phoebe before, this was on a completely different level. It didn't even feel like one person anymore, no, it was as if hundreds of thousands of Hollows had climbed out of Hueco Mundo to march with the distinguished Cero Espada.

Alastar didn't hesitate a moment to continue this destruction. A malefic and twisted visage of black energy lept from his back, bound by chains, screaming and twisting around. It was a disgusting thing, the only thing that could honestly describe it would be the word which it entitled, which was "Demon". Now equipped with the large and encumbering reiatsu, along with the apparatus of what could only be death itself, Alastar continued his march, his cold eyes staring down not on Phoebe at the time, but instead the Shinigami, the bloodlust, the hate in the eyes showing that something had happened, something that was edging on a thirst for the taste of an old enemy.

ENTER!!

In an alleyway most discrete, another spiritual anomaly; a new challenger appeared.

With his spiritual control an absolute he suppressed his spirit pressure to what he often called 'non-existent'. There would be no sensing him now. He couldn't guarantee that from everyone but as far as the Shinigami go they wouldn't be able to track him he doubted anyone else on the battlefield would do any better. The only way his whereabouts would be known here were with plain and simple eye sight, though that too would be corrected.

Through his humble mumble the death god energy permeating through his form gave way to a demon's work of art. "Kyokkō." Wrapping himself bent-light he took one more moment to access the situation, the Goteijuusantai agents here showed poor ability to relay information back to the Seireitei so that their supportive faculties could do their jobs. Unseated spell weavers poured from various Senkaimon en mass. Each of them in possession of two specific skills to be deployed for this mission; expert leveled Shunpō and Kyokkō. They were tasked with sweeping the streets under cover of bent light and remove all plus and surviving civilians

The destruction here in mortal realm was shameful even for someone no longer in the Goteijuusantai. His empathy wouldn't allow him to write off the individuals who did the lot of this as foolish and groundless in their actions. He speculated they had a reason... possibly even a good reason but this act wasn't justifiable.. they couldn't be let off the hook either.

People were dead...lots of people.

SPOILER: Click to show

Excerpt from STAINED STARS

Apparently, the frontman for the opposition present was heading on the Kenpachi, who was just as likely to draw the fight out for her own pleasure reasons than to quickly finish the quincy off, if she could finish him off. He wanted to help her out, between her pure force and his sheer versatility they could have made quick work of one single quincy, regardless of how powerful he was. That wasn't going to happen though as Kenpachi Jingu only played well with who she wanted to play well with and she, like most Kenpachi before her, had a... prejudice against Kidō practitioners.

Rather than joining in, giving her a wide berth was their best option.

"Two spills of lost hope stain the soul of the downtrodden. Forbearance on the menace is daft, volt the king." From around Jingu and ...Wolfgang (likewise Juusan-Taichō and the beautiful sharpshooter he was still negotiating with), would a film of energy materialize; kidō in nature, kekkei in application. It would expand rapidly giving the two fights the space they needed and the incantations would make them supercharged and harder to break free from. Though the one holding Kenpachi and her quarry was larger and reinforced. "Falling to a crawl the justification means the end. Yolk one leg, grate two legs, hammer three legs. Spiteful is the order in the heart of fading fire. Encase!"

Erect and hard the barrier stood giving both fights the space they needed to work out their philosophies and clashing blades. With the barriers up in tandem with the spacial barriers the Tweleth Division likely put up, his contracted job with the Sōtaichō was done. From here on, his actions would be freelance.

"Hmm." His reiatsu tracking zero'd him in on two unique souls who resonated with reasonable power but were inactive in the battle. One had a dwindling signature, likely injured or hiding. The other... was just 'off' like leaving the electric running with no appliances hooked up to use said electric.

He was curious and naming himself responsible for evacuating the innocents, so he moved on the both of them. An annoying bastard of an arrancaru seemed to be vested in adding to the collateral damage near the Juusanbantai-Taichō's battle collapsing buildings and the like. Shi'Kuyo would leave him to his fun a few moments longer. But once those two lying in defeat were removed from the fight he would deal the brash 'broken mask'.

For now he relied on drawing marks on his arms and one of the communication kidō in his library. His voice rangout in the head of the Cero Espada and no one else. "Hey assholecaru... treaty or not it won't be a good look for anyone if you keep knocking over buildings and breaking glass panes while some of us are trying to keep loss of life and collateral damage at a minimum. You wanna spectate be my guest but any more than that and you will be kindly escorted off the premises." He didn't think his baritone alone would be enough to discourage the Espada, and hand to the Spirit King he tried not to be arrogant or over-rude, just firm; enough to convey his conviction.

After he found got those two to safety, he would be back.

EXIT!!