Noctis Fulminata
Dec 10, 2011 20:56:06 GMT -8
Post by valitus on Dec 10, 2011 20:56:06 GMT -8
Profile Information
Name: Noctis Fulminata [Noct]
Gender: Male
Age: 637
Faction: Vizard
Rank: Wanderer
Reiatsu Color: Crimson
Reiatsu Aura: The sensation of restlessness coupled with anxiety.
Appearance:
Noctis stands at a height of 5'11, weighing 132 pounds.
Personality:
"Even if the morrow holds no promises, nothing shall forestall my return."
The above statement epitomizes the foremost facet of Noctis's personality; a fierce and unyielding determination. It is of the utmost importance to Noctis that he succeed in every endeavor; no feat should end in failure; no task should be completed half-heartedly. It is unacceptable to be second place, and inconceivable to lose to anyone. And, in the few events that the unthinkable happens, be assured that Noctis will return in the morrow to set life back on its normal track.
Known to be prone to fits of rapid shifts in projected personalities, it is theorized by some that the turbulent events in Noctis's life have resulted in a scattered state of mind. Jumping erratically between sympathy and disregard; serenity and discord --- Noctis true nature is dappled so completely in enigma that only a select few can accurately say that they've gaged the true depths of his personality. Admittedly, Noctis portrays these separate personalities in an attempt to bring to life the plethora of characters that his imagination creates within his mind; ever the author, he tests his concept ideas in the real world. Should he be playing with a character of sinister purpose, then he will indubitably show malevolence in his everyday actions; should the character he is creating be a more genial character, then his nature will reflect that trait. Only when his imagination is at the great standstill will he revert to a neutrality and be seized once more by the personality traits that make up his being.
These traits, besides that ever-present determination, include vanity, derived quite possibly from his deep appreciation of his looks and abilities. Arrogance, taken from the assumption that he has the ability to do anything; to be anything; to overcome any obstacle. Flippancy, the hand-in-hand mate of arrogance. Needless to say, his original personality is yet to be desired.
But beneath all of this animosity -- all of these negative facets of his personality -- lies an innocence that gave rise to his poetic nature. He sees the beauty in everything -- be it dazzling to behold, or terrible beyond belief -- and is quick to comment on it. His withdrawal from the vox populi, however, leaves him to comment only to himself, and therefore it is not unlikely to see Noctis murmuring rapidly to seemingly the air as he voices his opinions on the world. Additionally, he is prone to quoting random lines from various poetic works. This is only one of his many quirks; for riddled in his speech are various sentence-enders . He is known to add things like "maybe; much; or eh" to the end of his sentences, and he is a self-pronounced fluent in sarcasm.
Events in his life have not been kind to him, and so an inherent need to take vengeance on the world -- and Fate -- drives him forward in life. But is it wise to do battle against something to omnipotent? Is it wise to wage war against the very forces that dictate life?
Noctis doesn't know -- nor does he care.
History:
Fate dealt the world yet another compilation of emotions, genetics, and subdued spiritual ability on the eve of one midsummer day. While the sky was still bleached grey by twilight, Noctis Fulminata was born to a duo of young parents. Completely unequipped with the wisdom and financial means needed to care for a child, Noctis's parents were forced to relinquish him to the authorities almost immediately after they named him. Thus, the child knew only of a brief instant where the calming warmth of his parents' touch graced his skin, before he was ruthlessly whisked away into a world of dark, damp houses riddled with orphaned children, countless days of anxiety wrought from waiting for adoption, and inevitably being acquired by a set of old nobles whose meeting with death was nigh. Barely young enough to comprehend the course of events that had befell him, Noctis could do naught but live, learn, and endure; up until the night, four years after his birth, that Fate decided to withdraw him from life.
Those graced with nobility are known to splurge on many occasions. Unfortunately for Noctis, his adoptive father utilized his immense wealth to come in possession of an equally as immense cache of alcohol --- which he downed the very day that he acquired it. Coaxed into a drunken rage by the toxins dwelling within alcohol, Noctis's father went on a rampage through the estate, turning over tables, smashing vases. Not realizing what he was doing, he grasped the four-year old Noctis by the neck and screamed horrible things at the child -- things that Noctis didn't comprehend with his young, still developing brain. Noctis's father did not notice, as he screamed, that Noctis was slowly being choked, that his lips were turning blue, and that his eyes were losing their spark of life. The man did not realize the horrible deed he had done until the very moment when his wife arrived home and snatched Noctis's limp body from the man's grasp. The woman tried to sustain the boy's life force; but to no avail; the damage was done. Within minutes, Noctis succumbed to death.
As endlessly enticing it was to wander aimlessly within darkness in the long stretch of time following his death, Noctis's soul yearned for a source of tether. Therefore, the very moment that his eyes fell upon the slightest slither of light breaking the gloom, he made haste to traverse to it. Curiosity overcoming his more logical, inquisitive thoughts, he propelled his body through the infinitesimal crack -- a feat, which today he is still intrigued by -- and found himself stumbling into a bright world, filled with vibrant colors and, comfortingly, a whole host of other spirits. Unbeknownst to Noctis, he had found himself smack in the middle of the Rukongai: the haven for wandering souls.
Naught but a moment passed before Noctis found himself being snatched up by one of the souls paddling about the streets. "Oh, and what have we here?" asked the person; grey eyes focusing on the more simplistic features of the person, Noctis deduced that it was a woman, and with his small brain only able to assemble basic pieces of his knowledge, he called her one of the only titles he had given to females: "Mama," he uttered, eliciting a chuckle from the female that sent tremors of mirth reverberating through her body. Inwardly, Noctis marveled at the sound of it; he likened it to the soft, musical sound of wind chimes, those nicely-painted objects that his "mother" and "father" used to hang up on the front porch. "Already calling me mama, are you? Hmm, well I guess it can't be helped. What's your name, little one?" Noctis hesitated, but eventually he choked out the name, stammering on the latter portion of it: "Noctis F-Ful-Fulminata."
Noctis's new found 'mama' took him to her home, and it was there that she began several years of nurture and care. Noctis grew to be a handsome young man, a trait which he loved to flaunt about. During these preliminary years in this new sanctuary of the dead, the seeds of vanity began to take root. Noctis's mama scolded him regularly about the need to be humble, to have humility; but he took her chastisement in stride. If he was handsome, then why keep quiet about it?
This vain disposition led, not surprisingly, to Noctis only having a couple friends; two to be exact. Nerro and Dizzy were the only two of a like age that could put up with his vanity, and only because they exhibited similar traits; Nerro, ever-so-vain about his intellect; and Dizzy, ever-so-vain about his athletic capabilities. The trio forged a deep bond, and became tangled in all sorts of misadventures. But it was one in particular that changed their afterlives forever.
Despite their parent's warnings, the trio of adventurous young souls traversed to the very outskirts of the Rukongai after hearing stories about the odd being that existed there. Believing themselves to be equipped adequately to protect themselves if need be, and assuming that fate wouldn't plague them with any real danger, they went about searching the outer districts. For the great majority of the day, they found nothing; the outer districts seemed to them, if anything, just a shabbier version of the districts in which they lived in. Disappointed by their findings, they began to head home; only, as they turned to leave, three creatures impeded their path.
They were creatures spawned from nightmares; adorned in a bodily armor crafted from white material reminiscent of bleached desert sand, and a variety of masks pulled and stretched into the most grotesque of depictions, these creatures sent fear shivering down each of the brazen boy's spines. Clutching each other in fright, they turned tail and ran, all the while screaming for their mothers as the strange beings followed in their wake. Oddly, there were no signs of anyone on the streets; everyone in the vicinity seemed to have deserted the area. Could they have been warned of the presence of these creatures?
As the chase wore on, and each of the boys developed painful stitches in their sides from the physical exertion, they found themselves cornered in an alleyway, their path blocked by a high brick wall. "This is the end," Noctis panted, and he sent his friends what he believed to be one final glance. Fear had his words dying in his throat; his friends were in a like state.
But just as the creatures began to advance, hunger making their thin eyes appear monstrous and fierce, a brief burst of energy overtook the three companions at exactly the same time. For but only an instant, a feeble aura of... something appeared around each of their bodies; for Noctis, the aura that raged around him was crimson; for Nerro, a jade casing of flames danced about his person; and for Dizzy, an aura that mimicked the hue of ocean waves wrapped around his body. Not knowing exactly what he was doing, Noctis stepped forward and clenched his fists, rearing them back. If he was going to die, he might as well do it fighting. The aura that encased his body flocked primarily to his fists, and lightning began to writhe throughout his fingers, empowering him. Still, the creatures advanced, though, unperturbed by this show of power.
Mere moments before the creatures sprang, a bang of sound like cannon fire split the noon, and every being in the alleyway cowered before the sound. Standing at the head of the alleyway, black robes whipping about in a vortex of energy stood a man that appeared to be in his thirties; over his shoulder, he slung a silver katana, and encasing his other hand was a gauntlet. The man gave Noctis and his friends a curt nod, and then his body became nothing more than a blur as he dashed about the confined space, slicing effortlessly through the bodies of the creatures. In seconds, all that remained were the slowly-dissolving remains of the creatures, their carcasses stained with blood.
The man who had slain the creatures appraised the three boys before him. "Who are you?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. The trio made haste to tell him, as well as explain why they were there, and what had happened. It was obvious after a while that the man was interested primarily in the auras that they had unknowingly called forth. The man said that their reiatsu - whatever that was -- had awakened, and that it was quite prudent that he whisk them away into Soul Society.
"You mean," asked Dizzy, after quietly processing everything. "That we get to live within the huge city in the center of the Rukongai? And that we get to become warriors!?" His eyes grew with anticipation with every word he spoke.
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."
The next three hours were filled with sorrowful goodbyes; the trio prepared to leave behind their past lives as powerless souls, and enter to world of the Shinigami -- as the man had dubbed them -- that watched over the realm. Noctis had the hardest time leaving, but, after many tears, and many hugs and promises to stay safe, he and his friends parted ways with their parents, and followed the man into Soul Society.
Within a fortnight, the trio had been enrolled in the Academy; and within yet another, they began to realize exactly what it was that they each excelled in. Noctis found his calling to be zanjutsu and kido; already his instructors were boasting of his abilities, and they were sure that it would be no time before his zanpakutō manifested and he was granted graduation. For Nerro, his skills lay in the manipulation of his reiatsu; truly, his budding mastery over it was breathtaking. And for Dizzy, his skills lie in hand-to-hand combat.
During their time at the academy, the trio were locked in an everlasting rivalry, each trying to surpass the other. It was not surprising to find small scuffles breaking out on a daily basis; the winner of which there never was. It seemed that the trio were equally matched, diverse though they were in specialties. Therefore, it came as a bit of a shock to Noctis when, out of the blue one day, Nerro was the first to manifest his zanpakutō. Indeed, Noctis was proud of his friend, and happy that he was on his way to join the ranks of Shinigami, but jealousy began to stir deep within him. He was suddenly seized with a fierce determination: he had to be the next of the trio to graduate. From the point on, he worked relentlessly in his studies, and his abilities began to skyrocket. In no time, during one particularly rough training session with Dizzy, his zanpakutō manifested. Yet, his brief instant of elation that he had surpassed Dizzy was killed when, in almost the same heartbeat, Dizzy's zanpakutō materialized. Angry that his moment had been stolen by Dizzy, Noctis disregarded his instructor's instructions to stop the battle, and attacked with new-found strength.
Powers quite literally bursting, Noctis and Dizzy engaged in combat that was quite unprecedented for someone of their ranks. Propelled onward by determination, resentment, and beneath the animosity, enjoyment of the battle high, they fought for hours on end, never stopping, never faltering. Really, they could've fought the whole day, had it not been for the interruption of Nerro. Having been called to the scene by the instructor, he suddenly appeared between the two combatants, blocking both of their attacks with his own zanpakutō. After the clang of metal on metal dissolved into nothing, an eerie silence settled over the dojo. Nerro shook his head and said: "So this is what happens when I leave? You two try to kill each other?" And then Nerro broke into a grin, all seriousness draining from his features. "Although... I must admit, that's quite some power. Look around you."
And look they did, eyes widening as their visions fell upon the result of their bout. The dojo resembled an area that had been ravaged by a tornado. In the wake of the battle, gouges racked the area, and every structure that had once stood proud in the vicinity was now toppled over, battered, beaten and disheveled-looking.
Still, despite this, Nerro turned to the instructor. "If I were you," he said, his smirk somehow finding its way into his voice. "I would graduate these two -- y'know, get them out of your hair."
The instructor nodded vigorously, and in no time, Noctis and Dizzy joined their friend in the ranks of the Shinigami. Noctis went off and joined the Kidō corps, finding that to be his calling; Dizzy joined Division 11; Nerro had already been a part of Division One for a brief period of time.
Once again, the trio were on equal footings. Training endlessly and relishing in the thrill of being Shinigami, they lived oblivious to the turbulent nature of the realms. Perhaps only Nerro, who was a member of the foremost group of Shinigami, heard rumors of the unrest rippling through the worlds; but still, he shook them off as just that -- rumors. Therefore, none of them were ready for the sudden outbreak of war. Having nothing but the abilities gained from nearly a century of training, and their own instincts, they began to defend themselves against perhaps the greatest threat to ever ravage the worlds.
The war was a game to the trio; and the goal? Defeat as many hollows as possible. Truly, the utter carnage unleashed by the three rivals upon the battlefield were matched only be few. Despite them being in different divisions, they ended up on several combat missions together, and in those missions, they proved exactly what teamwork driven by a healthy rivalry could do. They shredded relentlessly through the hollow ranks, displaying abilities that far surpassed their low seatage in the ranking of Shinigami. Their taichos, stunned into silence by the prowess they exhibited upon the battlefield, were forced to promote them to higher ranks. They each ascertained a third-seat position in their respective divisions -- and would've obtained the Fukutaichō position, had the roadblock of not releasing Shikai hadn't been there.
Shikai; the concept holding them back the most. Noctis believed in his heart that if he acquired it first, it would provide the boost in power that would aid him in outstripping his friends. And so, in every moment that he was not tied up with the war or his other duties, he trained tirelessly. Slowly but surely, he made contact with the spirit of his zanpakutō --- but the stubborn spirit refused to grant him to ability! The spirit wouldn't bestow the knowledge of his name upon Noctis, claiming that the timing wasn't right. Frustrated, Noctis resolved to putting all of his efforts into the war. Needless to say... the hollows took a hit.
As the war wore on, and Noctis grew weary of constant battle, he happened across a woman by the name of Yuki Mokutan. Yuki was a fierce fighter, and several days Noctis found himself marveling in the art that was her fighting style. In no time, Noctis was falling in love. His friends, noticing this, distanced themselves from him and allowed him to pursue the girl. They began dating, and it was a happy relationship...
-- a relationship torn asunder one evening when their squadron was ambushed by a large group of hollow, lead by an Arrancar.
Fate had the scene drawn perfectly: Noctis was flanked by the very people he would trust with his life. Yuki, Dizzy, Nerro, and the Fukutaichō of the Eleventh Division stood valiantly against the influx of hollows, aided by several unnamed additions from their various divisions. But it wasn't enough -- not when the Arrancar entered the fray. Never before had Noctis done battle with an Arrancar, so he wasn't expecting the human-like intelligence of his adversary. His arrogance and assurance that he would be the victor of the bout led to his downfall, and in no time, he was on bended knee, a blade resting at his gullet. All around him, his friends were either engaged in battle or incapacitated. The very ground he knelt on was saturated with blood, and the lifeless body of the Fukutaichō was sprawled out eerily next to him. Noctis was quite literally staring death in the face, yet a perverse calm spread through his body. He was not afraid; he merely wanted it over with.
It was at that moment that Yuki tore herself away from her battle and launched herself at the Arrancar. But she was too slow, and her advance too blatant. Only momentarily turning his attention from Noctis, the Arrancar lashed out with his weapon and impaled Yuki through the heart.
The world ended, so why hadn't the battle ceased, and the combatants laid down their arms and wept for the fallen? Noctis's world collapsed into grief and he bellowed his sorrows to the heaven in a scream that split the dawn and rent the air apart. As the final note faded to the backdrop, a voice, ever so calm and mingled with sympathy whispered something in the back of his mind.
"Hakyoku."
Hakyoku... the word reverberated once, twice, within Noctis's skull before his mind grasped the weight of the word, before he realized what the voice was. Then, with rage fueling his motions, he repeated the word aloud, and his body was engulfed in light. The Arrancar stumbled back, not expecting the sudden fluctuation in Noctis's power. Reiatsu quite literally emanated from Noctis in waves, to the point where every head in the vicinity swiveled to watch the bout. Clutching a glowing version of his zanpakuto, upon which kata that spelled 'Hakyoku' were inscribed, Noctis engaged his adversary in battle.
Was this new found power enough to best the Arrancar? No. Sure, Noctis could keep up with the Arrancar now. But the very moment the beast utilized Resureccion, the tide of the battle once more shifted in the Arrancar's favor. Completely outclassed, Noctis reverted to defensive methods, trying desperately to stay alive until reinforcements could come to his aid. He fell prey to barrage upon barrage of attacks of unprecedented strength, and, in the back of his mind, he began to wonder if all of his training, all of his preparation had been for naught. By the twelve inked onto the flesh of the Arrancar, it was evident that he was not the strongest of the lot; and if Noctis couldn't defeat someone ranked twelve, how was he supposed to defeat the rest? Despair gripped him, and he faltered, momentarily lowering Hakyoku. It would've been the death of him, that moment of indecision, but emerging from their battles, Dizzy and Nerro entered the fray.
For a few fuzzy moments, Noctis watched his friends fight the Arrancar, and then, with a start, he realized that both of his friends had released their Shikais, also. Reinvigorated suddenly, Noctis joined the assault, and the trio of friends engaged the Arrancar with such voracity that it was only a matter of moments before the creature was down upon its knees.
"Go ahead, defeat me!" it jeered, eyes red with hate. "It doesn't matter. In the end, I'll win regardless."
Puzzled by the Arrancar's cryptic words, Noctis did not immediately deliver to crippling blow; he hesitated, and in that very instant, the Arrancar managed to impale Noctis in the right shoulder. Swearing and bleeding profusely, Noctis lashed out, cleanly decapitating the Arrancar.
The battle ended in the next half hour. The hollows, disheartened by the loss of their leader, became easy game; every single one of them was exterminated. That is not to say that the Shinigami did not suffer great losses. The Fukutaicho, Yuki, and several other lay dead across the battlefield, and Noctis was wounded greatly by the Arrancar's last ditch attack. He was sent back to Soul Society as quickly as possible and given to the Medical Division for healing.
During his period of incapacitation, Noctis heard tale of other battles being fought throughout the realm. He was elated to hear that the Shinigami had the upper hand, and were driving the hollows back to their hovel -- Hueco Mundo. Proud as he was, he was frustrated beyond belief; every fiber of his being yearned to rejoin the fight, but the final blow the Arrancar had dealt to him held much more significance than previously thought. The wound, though healing, left his body racked with sudden spasms of pain that had been a hand in deeming him unfit for battle. For, what if a spasm hit him in the heat of battle? Surely, in his pain-filled moment, he would be cut down?
Many, many years passed, and still Noctis was kept from the fight -- and still his wound did not fully heal. Many began to believe that it would never heal, but Noctis had hope; Fate wouldn't mar him that badly, would it?
But despite his waiting, the war ended without his help, and the very moment that the news of the Shinigami victory resonated throughout the realms, Noctis was released from medical care. It was obviously safe for him to take part in his duties as a Shinigami, now that there wasn't extraneous battle going on everywhere. Shaking his head at the foolishness of his doctors, he went off to find his friends.
With the war in the past, Soul Society slowly started to rebuild itself. Having sustained huge losses, every remaining Shinigami was stretched impossibly thin in their efforts, but it seemed that the hollows had retreated deep into their home, for the moment. Seldom did Noctis ever hear of a hollow sighting in the human realm, or any realm sans for Hueco Mundo, in that matter. It seemed that they had finally learned their lesson.
So shouldn't Noctis have been happy? Shouldn't he have celebrated with everyone else? If the war was truly over, then why did resentment course through his veins? Why was he still so angry?
Noctis threw himself once more into training. With his Shikai now accessible, it was only a matter of time before he ascertained a higher rank than his current one -- it was only a matter of becoming stronger. But his strength did not increase: he was handicapped, held back by the shoulder wound that still plagued him, all these many years after the battle. And, additionally, he was falling ill, symptoms likened to those of the flu bothering him on a daily basis.
Noctis was put on the back burner, essentially, and could only watch as the events in Soul Society unfolded. The most intriguing event, to him, was that whole Vizard business that revolved around the man --- what was his name? --- Gakushiki Rikou? He found it interesting that the Shinigami had transcended the boundary between Shinigami and Hollow; and, truthfully, he wanted in on it. Deep within his heart, he was beginning to find that his actions were turning into those of a hollow's. His anger, his aggravation, and the... ravenous hunger that had began to plague him.
But he didn't want to be ejected from Soul Society. He didn't want to be an outcast. Putting these thoughts to the back of his mind, he returned to his normal, everyday deeds. But his illness grew worse, and his shoulder wound showed no signs of ever lessening.
It was depressing, really.
One day, a friendly competition was proposed by the SoTaicho, in which various representatives from each division would do battle in the hopes of being the first to try out a Mod-Soul prototype. Eager to join, he pestered his division head until the man allowed him to take part. At this point in time, his prowess in battle had reached a breathtaking rate; hindered, as he was, by his shoulder wound, he had been able to hone his abilities in Kidō. Needless to say, there was a reason why he was a high-ranked officer in the Kidō Corps.
Noctis never reached the tournament site.
He was traveling alone, through the night, utilizing neither flash step or any speed augmentation to aid his gait, when suddenly Nerro and Dizzy appeared on either side of him, their faces stretched into taunting grins. They appraised him for but only a moment... and then attacked.
Noctis reacted quickly. Parrying their attacks, he distanced himself and called out. "What are you two doing? I've got somewhere to go!"
Nerro was the one who responded. "Our duty. We couldn't possibly let someone weak enter a tournament like that --- it would be a waste of the SoTaicho's time." He was joking, naturally, but the words still hit home.
Weak. Noctis did not like that. His better judgment blinded by rage, he advanced, attacking with all his might, and the scene dissolved into chaos. Their battle raged, unchecked, unnoticed, while the rest of Soul Society congregated to the tournament site. They fought endlessly, ruthlessly, until Noctis finally collapsed from fatigue, his body racked with deep coughs. But these were not panting coughs --- these were coughs that were a direct result of his illness... and, really, they hurt.
Within mere moments, the great warrior had became nothing more than a frail, ill man. Then, abruptly, he vomited...
--- and his vomit hovered in mid air, stark white against the darkness of his surroundings, and fashioned itself into something reminiscent of a hollow mask that fit itself snugly over his face...
--- and the battle recommenced. Clearly out of his mind, Noctis attacked with renewed strength, his Shinigami abilities doubled over by the presence of abilities that belonged to hollows. He attacked with not only Shikai, but with Cero --- and his reiatsu raged, flaring across the horizon, alerting nearly every Shinigami in the Seireitei of his presence. Still, they did not flock to him. Perhaps they thought it to be a false signal --- or perhaps they were more engrossed with the tournament than anything else, but they did not come. Nerro and Dizzy were left to fend for themselves, up until the moment when the pommel of Nerro's blade struck Noctis in the forehead, and all at once, the hollow mask shattered, and Noctis collapsed.
Nerro and Dizzy gave each other one, meaningful glance. They knew that Noctis was in terrible trouble now; he had somehow obtained the powers of a hollow. Suspicion growing in their mind, but compassion moving their hearts, they dragged him to the nearest Senkaimon gate manned by the Kidō Corps. Luck was on their side that day, for the gate had been left unattended.
Marring their surroundings with signs of a fake battle, they made it seem as if they had fought against Noctis as he tried to escape. And once they opened the gate --- for Nerro had learned the trick from Noctis many, many years ago --- they threw Noctis through it, and sent off a distress signal to the Taichos. Finally, they induced a state of unconsciousness on themselves, only after giving themselves fake wounds, and hoped that their childhood friend could make it to safety in the real world. They knew that if their ploy was seen through, they would most likely be put to death; but there was something in friendship that made them disregard it completely.
True friends they were, indeed.
When Noctis awoke to find himself in the human realm, he was, needless to say, bewildered. For a moment he merely sat there, gazing stupidly at his surroundings, and then the rush of memories flooded his brain. With them came the realization that he could never return home, never see his friends again, lest he be hunted down like an animal. Part of him wanted to cry right then and there, but the logical portion of his brain bade him to stand.
He knew that, left unchecked, this hollow situation could escalate into chaos, and he knew that only one man knew how to set things straight: Gakushiki Rikou. The only problem would be finding him. He began to search using quite the unorthodox method. Traversing freely throughout different regions of Japan, he would systematically flare his reiatsu -- tainted, as it was, with the distinct feel of a hollow -- so as to cause any spiritually aware being in the immediate area to be aware of his existence. He hoped that, by chance, he would come across one of these...vizards, and not a Shinigami assigned to the human realm.
For once in his life, it seemed, luck was on his side. After three weeks of wandering, his methods brought a vizard running to his heels. Having been living under Rikou's wing since his flight from soul society, this vizard was eager to bring Noctis before his caretaker. Noctis was surprised to discover that there was a whole system of tunnels beneath Japan, but his elation preceded his surprise. He was happy that he was, if anything, going to be... fixed of this anomaly. He could no longer bear the thought of his inner hollow taking control.
After setting Noctis on track through the tunnels, and wishing him luck, the vizard -- who it turned out was a recruiter -- turned and left, saying he had a prior engagement, leaving Noctis to find his way to the caretaker and creator of the vizard, Gakushiki Rikou.
Still he wanders, searching...
Name: Noctis Fulminata [Noct]
Gender: Male
Age: 637
Faction: Vizard
Rank: Wanderer
Reiatsu Color: Crimson
Reiatsu Aura: The sensation of restlessness coupled with anxiety.
Appearance:
Noctis stands at a height of 5'11, weighing 132 pounds.
Personality:
"Even if the morrow holds no promises, nothing shall forestall my return."
The above statement epitomizes the foremost facet of Noctis's personality; a fierce and unyielding determination. It is of the utmost importance to Noctis that he succeed in every endeavor; no feat should end in failure; no task should be completed half-heartedly. It is unacceptable to be second place, and inconceivable to lose to anyone. And, in the few events that the unthinkable happens, be assured that Noctis will return in the morrow to set life back on its normal track.
Known to be prone to fits of rapid shifts in projected personalities, it is theorized by some that the turbulent events in Noctis's life have resulted in a scattered state of mind. Jumping erratically between sympathy and disregard; serenity and discord --- Noctis true nature is dappled so completely in enigma that only a select few can accurately say that they've gaged the true depths of his personality. Admittedly, Noctis portrays these separate personalities in an attempt to bring to life the plethora of characters that his imagination creates within his mind; ever the author, he tests his concept ideas in the real world. Should he be playing with a character of sinister purpose, then he will indubitably show malevolence in his everyday actions; should the character he is creating be a more genial character, then his nature will reflect that trait. Only when his imagination is at the great standstill will he revert to a neutrality and be seized once more by the personality traits that make up his being.
These traits, besides that ever-present determination, include vanity, derived quite possibly from his deep appreciation of his looks and abilities. Arrogance, taken from the assumption that he has the ability to do anything; to be anything; to overcome any obstacle. Flippancy, the hand-in-hand mate of arrogance. Needless to say, his original personality is yet to be desired.
But beneath all of this animosity -- all of these negative facets of his personality -- lies an innocence that gave rise to his poetic nature. He sees the beauty in everything -- be it dazzling to behold, or terrible beyond belief -- and is quick to comment on it. His withdrawal from the vox populi, however, leaves him to comment only to himself, and therefore it is not unlikely to see Noctis murmuring rapidly to seemingly the air as he voices his opinions on the world. Additionally, he is prone to quoting random lines from various poetic works. This is only one of his many quirks; for riddled in his speech are various sentence-enders . He is known to add things like "maybe; much; or eh" to the end of his sentences, and he is a self-pronounced fluent in sarcasm.
Events in his life have not been kind to him, and so an inherent need to take vengeance on the world -- and Fate -- drives him forward in life. But is it wise to do battle against something to omnipotent? Is it wise to wage war against the very forces that dictate life?
Noctis doesn't know -- nor does he care.
History:
Humanity ~ The Droll Purgatory
Fate dealt the world yet another compilation of emotions, genetics, and subdued spiritual ability on the eve of one midsummer day. While the sky was still bleached grey by twilight, Noctis Fulminata was born to a duo of young parents. Completely unequipped with the wisdom and financial means needed to care for a child, Noctis's parents were forced to relinquish him to the authorities almost immediately after they named him. Thus, the child knew only of a brief instant where the calming warmth of his parents' touch graced his skin, before he was ruthlessly whisked away into a world of dark, damp houses riddled with orphaned children, countless days of anxiety wrought from waiting for adoption, and inevitably being acquired by a set of old nobles whose meeting with death was nigh. Barely young enough to comprehend the course of events that had befell him, Noctis could do naught but live, learn, and endure; up until the night, four years after his birth, that Fate decided to withdraw him from life.
Those graced with nobility are known to splurge on many occasions. Unfortunately for Noctis, his adoptive father utilized his immense wealth to come in possession of an equally as immense cache of alcohol --- which he downed the very day that he acquired it. Coaxed into a drunken rage by the toxins dwelling within alcohol, Noctis's father went on a rampage through the estate, turning over tables, smashing vases. Not realizing what he was doing, he grasped the four-year old Noctis by the neck and screamed horrible things at the child -- things that Noctis didn't comprehend with his young, still developing brain. Noctis's father did not notice, as he screamed, that Noctis was slowly being choked, that his lips were turning blue, and that his eyes were losing their spark of life. The man did not realize the horrible deed he had done until the very moment when his wife arrived home and snatched Noctis's limp body from the man's grasp. The woman tried to sustain the boy's life force; but to no avail; the damage was done. Within minutes, Noctis succumbed to death.
Wandering Souls, Welcome to Sanctuary ~ Enter: Rukongai
As endlessly enticing it was to wander aimlessly within darkness in the long stretch of time following his death, Noctis's soul yearned for a source of tether. Therefore, the very moment that his eyes fell upon the slightest slither of light breaking the gloom, he made haste to traverse to it. Curiosity overcoming his more logical, inquisitive thoughts, he propelled his body through the infinitesimal crack -- a feat, which today he is still intrigued by -- and found himself stumbling into a bright world, filled with vibrant colors and, comfortingly, a whole host of other spirits. Unbeknownst to Noctis, he had found himself smack in the middle of the Rukongai: the haven for wandering souls.
Naught but a moment passed before Noctis found himself being snatched up by one of the souls paddling about the streets. "Oh, and what have we here?" asked the person; grey eyes focusing on the more simplistic features of the person, Noctis deduced that it was a woman, and with his small brain only able to assemble basic pieces of his knowledge, he called her one of the only titles he had given to females: "Mama," he uttered, eliciting a chuckle from the female that sent tremors of mirth reverberating through her body. Inwardly, Noctis marveled at the sound of it; he likened it to the soft, musical sound of wind chimes, those nicely-painted objects that his "mother" and "father" used to hang up on the front porch. "Already calling me mama, are you? Hmm, well I guess it can't be helped. What's your name, little one?" Noctis hesitated, but eventually he choked out the name, stammering on the latter portion of it: "Noctis F-Ful-Fulminata."
Noctis's new found 'mama' took him to her home, and it was there that she began several years of nurture and care. Noctis grew to be a handsome young man, a trait which he loved to flaunt about. During these preliminary years in this new sanctuary of the dead, the seeds of vanity began to take root. Noctis's mama scolded him regularly about the need to be humble, to have humility; but he took her chastisement in stride. If he was handsome, then why keep quiet about it?
This vain disposition led, not surprisingly, to Noctis only having a couple friends; two to be exact. Nerro and Dizzy were the only two of a like age that could put up with his vanity, and only because they exhibited similar traits; Nerro, ever-so-vain about his intellect; and Dizzy, ever-so-vain about his athletic capabilities. The trio forged a deep bond, and became tangled in all sorts of misadventures. But it was one in particular that changed their afterlives forever.
When Hollows Attack ~ Armed With Lightning, Fire, and Rage
Despite their parent's warnings, the trio of adventurous young souls traversed to the very outskirts of the Rukongai after hearing stories about the odd being that existed there. Believing themselves to be equipped adequately to protect themselves if need be, and assuming that fate wouldn't plague them with any real danger, they went about searching the outer districts. For the great majority of the day, they found nothing; the outer districts seemed to them, if anything, just a shabbier version of the districts in which they lived in. Disappointed by their findings, they began to head home; only, as they turned to leave, three creatures impeded their path.
They were creatures spawned from nightmares; adorned in a bodily armor crafted from white material reminiscent of bleached desert sand, and a variety of masks pulled and stretched into the most grotesque of depictions, these creatures sent fear shivering down each of the brazen boy's spines. Clutching each other in fright, they turned tail and ran, all the while screaming for their mothers as the strange beings followed in their wake. Oddly, there were no signs of anyone on the streets; everyone in the vicinity seemed to have deserted the area. Could they have been warned of the presence of these creatures?
As the chase wore on, and each of the boys developed painful stitches in their sides from the physical exertion, they found themselves cornered in an alleyway, their path blocked by a high brick wall. "This is the end," Noctis panted, and he sent his friends what he believed to be one final glance. Fear had his words dying in his throat; his friends were in a like state.
But just as the creatures began to advance, hunger making their thin eyes appear monstrous and fierce, a brief burst of energy overtook the three companions at exactly the same time. For but only an instant, a feeble aura of... something appeared around each of their bodies; for Noctis, the aura that raged around him was crimson; for Nerro, a jade casing of flames danced about his person; and for Dizzy, an aura that mimicked the hue of ocean waves wrapped around his body. Not knowing exactly what he was doing, Noctis stepped forward and clenched his fists, rearing them back. If he was going to die, he might as well do it fighting. The aura that encased his body flocked primarily to his fists, and lightning began to writhe throughout his fingers, empowering him. Still, the creatures advanced, though, unperturbed by this show of power.
Mere moments before the creatures sprang, a bang of sound like cannon fire split the noon, and every being in the alleyway cowered before the sound. Standing at the head of the alleyway, black robes whipping about in a vortex of energy stood a man that appeared to be in his thirties; over his shoulder, he slung a silver katana, and encasing his other hand was a gauntlet. The man gave Noctis and his friends a curt nod, and then his body became nothing more than a blur as he dashed about the confined space, slicing effortlessly through the bodies of the creatures. In seconds, all that remained were the slowly-dissolving remains of the creatures, their carcasses stained with blood.
The man who had slain the creatures appraised the three boys before him. "Who are you?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. The trio made haste to tell him, as well as explain why they were there, and what had happened. It was obvious after a while that the man was interested primarily in the auras that they had unknowingly called forth. The man said that their reiatsu - whatever that was -- had awakened, and that it was quite prudent that he whisk them away into Soul Society.
"You mean," asked Dizzy, after quietly processing everything. "That we get to live within the huge city in the center of the Rukongai? And that we get to become warriors!?" His eyes grew with anticipation with every word he spoke.
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."
The next three hours were filled with sorrowful goodbyes; the trio prepared to leave behind their past lives as powerless souls, and enter to world of the Shinigami -- as the man had dubbed them -- that watched over the realm. Noctis had the hardest time leaving, but, after many tears, and many hugs and promises to stay safe, he and his friends parted ways with their parents, and followed the man into Soul Society.
Training; Honing; Rivalry
Within a fortnight, the trio had been enrolled in the Academy; and within yet another, they began to realize exactly what it was that they each excelled in. Noctis found his calling to be zanjutsu and kido; already his instructors were boasting of his abilities, and they were sure that it would be no time before his zanpakutō manifested and he was granted graduation. For Nerro, his skills lay in the manipulation of his reiatsu; truly, his budding mastery over it was breathtaking. And for Dizzy, his skills lie in hand-to-hand combat.
During their time at the academy, the trio were locked in an everlasting rivalry, each trying to surpass the other. It was not surprising to find small scuffles breaking out on a daily basis; the winner of which there never was. It seemed that the trio were equally matched, diverse though they were in specialties. Therefore, it came as a bit of a shock to Noctis when, out of the blue one day, Nerro was the first to manifest his zanpakutō. Indeed, Noctis was proud of his friend, and happy that he was on his way to join the ranks of Shinigami, but jealousy began to stir deep within him. He was suddenly seized with a fierce determination: he had to be the next of the trio to graduate. From the point on, he worked relentlessly in his studies, and his abilities began to skyrocket. In no time, during one particularly rough training session with Dizzy, his zanpakutō manifested. Yet, his brief instant of elation that he had surpassed Dizzy was killed when, in almost the same heartbeat, Dizzy's zanpakutō materialized. Angry that his moment had been stolen by Dizzy, Noctis disregarded his instructor's instructions to stop the battle, and attacked with new-found strength.
Powers quite literally bursting, Noctis and Dizzy engaged in combat that was quite unprecedented for someone of their ranks. Propelled onward by determination, resentment, and beneath the animosity, enjoyment of the battle high, they fought for hours on end, never stopping, never faltering. Really, they could've fought the whole day, had it not been for the interruption of Nerro. Having been called to the scene by the instructor, he suddenly appeared between the two combatants, blocking both of their attacks with his own zanpakutō. After the clang of metal on metal dissolved into nothing, an eerie silence settled over the dojo. Nerro shook his head and said: "So this is what happens when I leave? You two try to kill each other?" And then Nerro broke into a grin, all seriousness draining from his features. "Although... I must admit, that's quite some power. Look around you."
And look they did, eyes widening as their visions fell upon the result of their bout. The dojo resembled an area that had been ravaged by a tornado. In the wake of the battle, gouges racked the area, and every structure that had once stood proud in the vicinity was now toppled over, battered, beaten and disheveled-looking.
Still, despite this, Nerro turned to the instructor. "If I were you," he said, his smirk somehow finding its way into his voice. "I would graduate these two -- y'know, get them out of your hair."
The instructor nodded vigorously, and in no time, Noctis and Dizzy joined their friend in the ranks of the Shinigami. Noctis went off and joined the Kidō corps, finding that to be his calling; Dizzy joined Division 11; Nerro had already been a part of Division One for a brief period of time.
Once again, the trio were on equal footings. Training endlessly and relishing in the thrill of being Shinigami, they lived oblivious to the turbulent nature of the realms. Perhaps only Nerro, who was a member of the foremost group of Shinigami, heard rumors of the unrest rippling through the worlds; but still, he shook them off as just that -- rumors. Therefore, none of them were ready for the sudden outbreak of war. Having nothing but the abilities gained from nearly a century of training, and their own instincts, they began to defend themselves against perhaps the greatest threat to ever ravage the worlds.
This is War ~ Sacrifices; Tragedy; Skyrocketing Power
The war was a game to the trio; and the goal? Defeat as many hollows as possible. Truly, the utter carnage unleashed by the three rivals upon the battlefield were matched only be few. Despite them being in different divisions, they ended up on several combat missions together, and in those missions, they proved exactly what teamwork driven by a healthy rivalry could do. They shredded relentlessly through the hollow ranks, displaying abilities that far surpassed their low seatage in the ranking of Shinigami. Their taichos, stunned into silence by the prowess they exhibited upon the battlefield, were forced to promote them to higher ranks. They each ascertained a third-seat position in their respective divisions -- and would've obtained the Fukutaichō position, had the roadblock of not releasing Shikai hadn't been there.
Shikai; the concept holding them back the most. Noctis believed in his heart that if he acquired it first, it would provide the boost in power that would aid him in outstripping his friends. And so, in every moment that he was not tied up with the war or his other duties, he trained tirelessly. Slowly but surely, he made contact with the spirit of his zanpakutō --- but the stubborn spirit refused to grant him to ability! The spirit wouldn't bestow the knowledge of his name upon Noctis, claiming that the timing wasn't right. Frustrated, Noctis resolved to putting all of his efforts into the war. Needless to say... the hollows took a hit.
As the war wore on, and Noctis grew weary of constant battle, he happened across a woman by the name of Yuki Mokutan. Yuki was a fierce fighter, and several days Noctis found himself marveling in the art that was her fighting style. In no time, Noctis was falling in love. His friends, noticing this, distanced themselves from him and allowed him to pursue the girl. They began dating, and it was a happy relationship...
-- a relationship torn asunder one evening when their squadron was ambushed by a large group of hollow, lead by an Arrancar.
Fate had the scene drawn perfectly: Noctis was flanked by the very people he would trust with his life. Yuki, Dizzy, Nerro, and the Fukutaichō of the Eleventh Division stood valiantly against the influx of hollows, aided by several unnamed additions from their various divisions. But it wasn't enough -- not when the Arrancar entered the fray. Never before had Noctis done battle with an Arrancar, so he wasn't expecting the human-like intelligence of his adversary. His arrogance and assurance that he would be the victor of the bout led to his downfall, and in no time, he was on bended knee, a blade resting at his gullet. All around him, his friends were either engaged in battle or incapacitated. The very ground he knelt on was saturated with blood, and the lifeless body of the Fukutaichō was sprawled out eerily next to him. Noctis was quite literally staring death in the face, yet a perverse calm spread through his body. He was not afraid; he merely wanted it over with.
It was at that moment that Yuki tore herself away from her battle and launched herself at the Arrancar. But she was too slow, and her advance too blatant. Only momentarily turning his attention from Noctis, the Arrancar lashed out with his weapon and impaled Yuki through the heart.
The world ended, so why hadn't the battle ceased, and the combatants laid down their arms and wept for the fallen? Noctis's world collapsed into grief and he bellowed his sorrows to the heaven in a scream that split the dawn and rent the air apart. As the final note faded to the backdrop, a voice, ever so calm and mingled with sympathy whispered something in the back of his mind.
"Hakyoku."
Hakyoku... the word reverberated once, twice, within Noctis's skull before his mind grasped the weight of the word, before he realized what the voice was. Then, with rage fueling his motions, he repeated the word aloud, and his body was engulfed in light. The Arrancar stumbled back, not expecting the sudden fluctuation in Noctis's power. Reiatsu quite literally emanated from Noctis in waves, to the point where every head in the vicinity swiveled to watch the bout. Clutching a glowing version of his zanpakuto, upon which kata that spelled 'Hakyoku' were inscribed, Noctis engaged his adversary in battle.
Was this new found power enough to best the Arrancar? No. Sure, Noctis could keep up with the Arrancar now. But the very moment the beast utilized Resureccion, the tide of the battle once more shifted in the Arrancar's favor. Completely outclassed, Noctis reverted to defensive methods, trying desperately to stay alive until reinforcements could come to his aid. He fell prey to barrage upon barrage of attacks of unprecedented strength, and, in the back of his mind, he began to wonder if all of his training, all of his preparation had been for naught. By the twelve inked onto the flesh of the Arrancar, it was evident that he was not the strongest of the lot; and if Noctis couldn't defeat someone ranked twelve, how was he supposed to defeat the rest? Despair gripped him, and he faltered, momentarily lowering Hakyoku. It would've been the death of him, that moment of indecision, but emerging from their battles, Dizzy and Nerro entered the fray.
For a few fuzzy moments, Noctis watched his friends fight the Arrancar, and then, with a start, he realized that both of his friends had released their Shikais, also. Reinvigorated suddenly, Noctis joined the assault, and the trio of friends engaged the Arrancar with such voracity that it was only a matter of moments before the creature was down upon its knees.
"Go ahead, defeat me!" it jeered, eyes red with hate. "It doesn't matter. In the end, I'll win regardless."
Puzzled by the Arrancar's cryptic words, Noctis did not immediately deliver to crippling blow; he hesitated, and in that very instant, the Arrancar managed to impale Noctis in the right shoulder. Swearing and bleeding profusely, Noctis lashed out, cleanly decapitating the Arrancar.
The battle ended in the next half hour. The hollows, disheartened by the loss of their leader, became easy game; every single one of them was exterminated. That is not to say that the Shinigami did not suffer great losses. The Fukutaicho, Yuki, and several other lay dead across the battlefield, and Noctis was wounded greatly by the Arrancar's last ditch attack. He was sent back to Soul Society as quickly as possible and given to the Medical Division for healing.
Painstaking Waiting ~ The Shinigami Conquer
During his period of incapacitation, Noctis heard tale of other battles being fought throughout the realm. He was elated to hear that the Shinigami had the upper hand, and were driving the hollows back to their hovel -- Hueco Mundo. Proud as he was, he was frustrated beyond belief; every fiber of his being yearned to rejoin the fight, but the final blow the Arrancar had dealt to him held much more significance than previously thought. The wound, though healing, left his body racked with sudden spasms of pain that had been a hand in deeming him unfit for battle. For, what if a spasm hit him in the heat of battle? Surely, in his pain-filled moment, he would be cut down?
Many, many years passed, and still Noctis was kept from the fight -- and still his wound did not fully heal. Many began to believe that it would never heal, but Noctis had hope; Fate wouldn't mar him that badly, would it?
But despite his waiting, the war ended without his help, and the very moment that the news of the Shinigami victory resonated throughout the realms, Noctis was released from medical care. It was obviously safe for him to take part in his duties as a Shinigami, now that there wasn't extraneous battle going on everywhere. Shaking his head at the foolishness of his doctors, he went off to find his friends.
Of Vizards and Mod-Souls
With the war in the past, Soul Society slowly started to rebuild itself. Having sustained huge losses, every remaining Shinigami was stretched impossibly thin in their efforts, but it seemed that the hollows had retreated deep into their home, for the moment. Seldom did Noctis ever hear of a hollow sighting in the human realm, or any realm sans for Hueco Mundo, in that matter. It seemed that they had finally learned their lesson.
So shouldn't Noctis have been happy? Shouldn't he have celebrated with everyone else? If the war was truly over, then why did resentment course through his veins? Why was he still so angry?
Noctis threw himself once more into training. With his Shikai now accessible, it was only a matter of time before he ascertained a higher rank than his current one -- it was only a matter of becoming stronger. But his strength did not increase: he was handicapped, held back by the shoulder wound that still plagued him, all these many years after the battle. And, additionally, he was falling ill, symptoms likened to those of the flu bothering him on a daily basis.
Noctis was put on the back burner, essentially, and could only watch as the events in Soul Society unfolded. The most intriguing event, to him, was that whole Vizard business that revolved around the man --- what was his name? --- Gakushiki Rikou? He found it interesting that the Shinigami had transcended the boundary between Shinigami and Hollow; and, truthfully, he wanted in on it. Deep within his heart, he was beginning to find that his actions were turning into those of a hollow's. His anger, his aggravation, and the... ravenous hunger that had began to plague him.
But he didn't want to be ejected from Soul Society. He didn't want to be an outcast. Putting these thoughts to the back of his mind, he returned to his normal, everyday deeds. But his illness grew worse, and his shoulder wound showed no signs of ever lessening.
It was depressing, really.
One day, a friendly competition was proposed by the SoTaicho, in which various representatives from each division would do battle in the hopes of being the first to try out a Mod-Soul prototype. Eager to join, he pestered his division head until the man allowed him to take part. At this point in time, his prowess in battle had reached a breathtaking rate; hindered, as he was, by his shoulder wound, he had been able to hone his abilities in Kidō. Needless to say, there was a reason why he was a high-ranked officer in the Kidō Corps.
The Final Battle ~ The Joker's Mask Revealed!
Noctis never reached the tournament site.
He was traveling alone, through the night, utilizing neither flash step or any speed augmentation to aid his gait, when suddenly Nerro and Dizzy appeared on either side of him, their faces stretched into taunting grins. They appraised him for but only a moment... and then attacked.
Noctis reacted quickly. Parrying their attacks, he distanced himself and called out. "What are you two doing? I've got somewhere to go!"
Nerro was the one who responded. "Our duty. We couldn't possibly let someone weak enter a tournament like that --- it would be a waste of the SoTaicho's time." He was joking, naturally, but the words still hit home.
Weak. Noctis did not like that. His better judgment blinded by rage, he advanced, attacking with all his might, and the scene dissolved into chaos. Their battle raged, unchecked, unnoticed, while the rest of Soul Society congregated to the tournament site. They fought endlessly, ruthlessly, until Noctis finally collapsed from fatigue, his body racked with deep coughs. But these were not panting coughs --- these were coughs that were a direct result of his illness... and, really, they hurt.
Within mere moments, the great warrior had became nothing more than a frail, ill man. Then, abruptly, he vomited...
--- and his vomit hovered in mid air, stark white against the darkness of his surroundings, and fashioned itself into something reminiscent of a hollow mask that fit itself snugly over his face...
--- and the battle recommenced. Clearly out of his mind, Noctis attacked with renewed strength, his Shinigami abilities doubled over by the presence of abilities that belonged to hollows. He attacked with not only Shikai, but with Cero --- and his reiatsu raged, flaring across the horizon, alerting nearly every Shinigami in the Seireitei of his presence. Still, they did not flock to him. Perhaps they thought it to be a false signal --- or perhaps they were more engrossed with the tournament than anything else, but they did not come. Nerro and Dizzy were left to fend for themselves, up until the moment when the pommel of Nerro's blade struck Noctis in the forehead, and all at once, the hollow mask shattered, and Noctis collapsed.
Nerro and Dizzy gave each other one, meaningful glance. They knew that Noctis was in terrible trouble now; he had somehow obtained the powers of a hollow. Suspicion growing in their mind, but compassion moving their hearts, they dragged him to the nearest Senkaimon gate manned by the Kidō Corps. Luck was on their side that day, for the gate had been left unattended.
Marring their surroundings with signs of a fake battle, they made it seem as if they had fought against Noctis as he tried to escape. And once they opened the gate --- for Nerro had learned the trick from Noctis many, many years ago --- they threw Noctis through it, and sent off a distress signal to the Taichos. Finally, they induced a state of unconsciousness on themselves, only after giving themselves fake wounds, and hoped that their childhood friend could make it to safety in the real world. They knew that if their ploy was seen through, they would most likely be put to death; but there was something in friendship that made them disregard it completely.
True friends they were, indeed.
Present Day
When Noctis awoke to find himself in the human realm, he was, needless to say, bewildered. For a moment he merely sat there, gazing stupidly at his surroundings, and then the rush of memories flooded his brain. With them came the realization that he could never return home, never see his friends again, lest he be hunted down like an animal. Part of him wanted to cry right then and there, but the logical portion of his brain bade him to stand.
He knew that, left unchecked, this hollow situation could escalate into chaos, and he knew that only one man knew how to set things straight: Gakushiki Rikou. The only problem would be finding him. He began to search using quite the unorthodox method. Traversing freely throughout different regions of Japan, he would systematically flare his reiatsu -- tainted, as it was, with the distinct feel of a hollow -- so as to cause any spiritually aware being in the immediate area to be aware of his existence. He hoped that, by chance, he would come across one of these...vizards, and not a Shinigami assigned to the human realm.
For once in his life, it seemed, luck was on his side. After three weeks of wandering, his methods brought a vizard running to his heels. Having been living under Rikou's wing since his flight from soul society, this vizard was eager to bring Noctis before his caretaker. Noctis was surprised to discover that there was a whole system of tunnels beneath Japan, but his elation preceded his surprise. He was happy that he was, if anything, going to be... fixed of this anomaly. He could no longer bear the thought of his inner hollow taking control.
After setting Noctis on track through the tunnels, and wishing him luck, the vizard -- who it turned out was a recruiter -- turned and left, saying he had a prior engagement, leaving Noctis to find his way to the caretaker and creator of the vizard, Gakushiki Rikou.
Still he wanders, searching...
