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View Full Version : The returner: an introduction to Cellea Halcyon


CeriaHalcyon
06-08-2008, 02:06 AM
6:55 'That'll do nicely bartender, but don't be cheap on the liquor though...'

6:57 'I'm going back home tomorrow...'

6:59 'Make it a double...'

7:00

"Fins to the left, fins to the right...", A familiar sea shanty reverberated through the cell phone speaker affixed to the belt of Cellea Halcyon.

His teal eyes fluttered, opening widely to take in the dawn, as it's endless charge drove the night into hiding. Grimacing and squinting lightly, Cellea's hand rose up from the sands he had spent the night on, his last night...

Here in human world...

"and you're the only babe in town..." the wakeup call continued, until Cellea reached for the phone and silenced it.

Wiping his eyes then with a not too clean hand, Cellea's first words of the day were a string of expletives as a piece of white sand got in them.

'Fate's way of getting me huh? Beating the system, and all I get is sand in my eyes...not too bad!' Cellea thought to himself, as he drove his torso up, so that he could position his rear in the sand to support his weight. In doing so, Halcyon's back revealed a broad driftwood shield. He had carved that shield ages ago and fought with it as well as the zanpakuto. Most nights, when not in his own lodgings, Cellea would sleep among the stars, using the shield to fill the requisite of a hard surface, necessary for him to sleep.

His presence in human world was a blend of work and pleasure, with thorough emphasis on pleasure, and light work here and there. The middle keys were sparcely populated and thus hollows rarely tred there.

Cellea had taken advantage of a stipulation available to all of the guards of the gotei 13, and it was the source of the legitimacy of his presence there.

The temporary leave of absence.

Three weeks of personal time to supposedly work things out, or mourn a fallen lover or friend...

It was never really intended for one who wanted to work on their tan.

And the sun in Sereitei never shown bright enough to create an efficient and well browned tan.

But even though he had beaten the system for the second time, Cellea never voiced the arrogance aloud.

Cellea was uniquely superstitious of saying things that may or may not come true, as if his words could tempt fate simply by speaking of it. Therefore, any relevancy to his own fate and his future he left to the confines of his own mind.

There were some days though when he felt fate could reach and reply to his thoughts even in there.

His time spent in human world had not drawn the attention of unfortunate realities, aside from the sand in the eyes, and the fact that a hurricane was coming...

However, in order for it to count as a blight against his fate, Cellea had to be present and he had no plans for sticking around much longer.

The sun still shone that morning, even though as it rose, Cellea could see a line of darkness that even its brilliance could not dissolve. The wind was light, and the waves were surprisingly calm, given the monster which lie not a hundred miles away, churning and burning the energy of the seas as it's life-force.

Shaking off the last of the sleepiness, Cellea rose first to a knee and then to both legs, taking a wide view of the horizon...

Not thirty yards on either side, the wind did blow and the seas did crash. Back and forth Cellea gazed, until he remembered the culprit.

Enshrouded within a driftwood cast, his zanpakuto must've been driven into the sand at some point.

He found it strange that he couldn't remember doing so...

Tapping the deadwood cane softly, Cellea sighed, "thank you for giving me a peaceful night sleep, Onagazame".

Lifting the blade named after one of the most feared sharks in the ocean, Cellea noticed that the wind picked up as did the seas began to rise as the curtain of protection had fallen.

Walking softly with the cane, Cellea Halcyon appeared like any naturalist, ragged clothes and affinity for wood products, with the cane and shield. His face however, deterred such a thought, as it was clean shaven and his hair, while very short was still barely out of place, even though it had grown some.

So not a vagabond or naturalist then, but a definite beach-goer, Cellea had the tan to prove it, and he had browned nicely.

Cellea traversed the white sands, dodging the surging waves until he was certain no one was in sight for a fair and visible distance. He then reached into the partially buttoned silk flower shirt, pulling a black crumpled object from it.

Dusting it off, he spoke to the object in his hand.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, tell me you're not dead yet!"

Surprisingly, the object sprung to life revealing itself as a hell butterfly.

"Jimmy..." Spoke Cellea, to the butterfly he had named after the musician who played his wakeup call.

"Jimmy, I need a door home..."

Gasping with it's high pitched voice, the butterfly lifted delicately from his hand, showing an affinity for not being restricted by the increasing gales.

It shot horizontally into the distance, dissolving into a pure bright white aura, which then formed the circular halo guarded by white and brown thatched doors.

Instead of immediately adjacent, the door was a hundred yards out from the shore.

Cellea chuckled at the outcome this time, "So that's what i get for your treatment? Eh, what does it matter, I sure as hell don't want to be here when that storm hits".

Dashing through the waters with graceful flash steps, Cellea dove into the portal just as a wave was about to crash through it.
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tbc

CeriaHalcyon
06-13-2008, 02:37 AM
Cellea ambled through the narrow tiled walkways which lead up to his division, aimlessly watching the clouds, and mentally being somewhere else.

Still on island time and island frame of mind, Cellea wondered how much of his usual vacation spot still remained after such a nasty squal.

Reaching inside his alabaster and azure flowered shirt, Cellea pulled out an bottle of a yellow colored alcoholic drink which wasnt around the last time he had ventured south... about fifteen years prior.

Popping the cap and tossing it aside...Cellea was used to just letting the sea take the trash he made, and didnt even seem to note or care the fact that blatant littering was abhorrent to Sereitei. He then proceeded to slowly down the intoxicating beverage as he neared the entrance to the ninth division headquarters.

With a sigh that was his way of accepting the fact he was really back to work... a curious thought came to mind...

He had leapt through a portal into soul society and in doing so even though he crossed dimensions, Cellea had gone through that hurricane without seeing any kind of effect.

Maybe it was the beer that was making him think so irregularly, or the constant exposure to the sun?

And maybe it was the same taxing effect of the sun which disrupted his ability to hear, when two non-descript shingami guards referred to Cellea in their welcome as "Fourth-seat Halcyon".

Nodding softly, but more in the art of tipping his head back to finish off the bottle, Cellea made his way past the main headquarters. intending to finish off the remainder of his vacation, Cellea strolled to the domiciles, for a much needed recouperative sleep.

Tossing the bottle into an empty alcove, Cellea seemed to almost be wandering, when he stopped rather abruptly.

With a hiss and a shifting flash, a shinigami appeared before Cellea, eyes narrowed and blade already drawn and speeding towards him.

Cellea knew the source all too well, and therefore was well aware of the fact the blade would not strike him, and even if it did, if the intent to kill was present, the man was so laid back he didn't care.

Furthermore, the subroutines of his existence had changed since he last walked among the souls.

The threats of a third seated officer, were from then on idle to Cellea.

Reaching once more into the partially opened hawaiian shirt, Cellea pulled another glass bottle, and leapt towards the blade.

Cellea dissolved from the sight of the indigo eyed man, the attacker.

The man continued to sail forward by the might of his own exertions, a flicker and distortion caught his blade only to once more dissolve into nothing.

The flicker had been Cellea, as he scratched the tip of the bottle on the passing katana, appearing behind the one who dared to intrude upon his solace.

"Sup Ti Ral, it's been a while..."

CeriaHalcyon
06-14-2008, 02:28 PM
^^previous post edited with new content^^
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The transaction of his humbling had been processed far more rapidly than Ti Ral Alcheron had expected.

with the winds of his subordinate's movement still shifting the narrow strands of his dark purple hair, his likewise colored eyes could not believe what they had just seen.

'What the?' Ti Ral thought as the gravity of the disbelief held him still a moment, and then a moment longer it began to flow into him, the images that his mind was constructing to possibly explain 'what the hell just happened'.

He had seen Cellea reach inside his shirt for something...it was not onagazame, his zanpakuto, that remained affixed to his back...

Cellea lingered there at the rear sipping from a glass bottle.

Ti Ral's eyes widened in a moment of revelation.

Cellea had used Ti Ral's blade as a bottle opener!

'Such an articulate motion, to pop the metal cap and couple it with faster than sight speed...'

'How did his abilities increase so suddenly...did he achieve it? What is he?'
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Exhaling softly, Cellea sighed for having to exert himself, "must you always be so troublesome Ti Ral?"

"Fourth seat Halcyon, what happened to you?" Alcheron asked him politely, inserting the new title in the hope of it sinking in.

Cellea stared blankly and then took another sip from his bottle, turning his back.

"Sorry, you must have me mistaken for another Halcyon."

It was their longest standing arguement, neither side would budge, and this time Alcheron had even gone as far as informing the division of Cellea's appointment, even though it had not yet been approved by the source.

"You won't win this time Ti, I told you, I'm not command material, i'm just a grunt. Until you can walk a path higher than mine, i will not yield."

Ti's quick wit caught the hidden meaning in the words, and fired back swiftly,

"Then you admit your strength has increased Cellea, how did it happen?"

Cellea turned then, with a painted expression of surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"You were not this strong when you left!" An asterisk appeared on Ti's forehead, as he hated having to point out the obvious.

"It happened the last time i went on leave didnt it?" Cellea watched as Ti's mind was starting to process his words, only to draw a blank as it had been some time.

"Do you know why i go to those islands, Ti Ral?"

Ti growled a little at the absurdity of the fact that Cellea intended him to answer.

"It's not because of the tan, well, not entirely. I used Onagazame to catch fish... I allow my sword to act like it would, in it's natural environment, and much to my surprise it made us stronger."

Ti Ral took a partial step back, remembering a time when Cellea had once told him about the thresher shark that was his sword.

'Onagazame is strengthened when in areas that contain water...When used near an ocean... collective abilities double!'

"So, you're implying that being by the ocean for a period of time continually strengthened you, making it no longer just a momentary increase."

Cellea nodded in compliance.

"All the more reason for you to join with me, to be the ninth division's fourth seat. If not, I'll have to use an unfortunate clause of the extended leave of absence."

Cellea sighed this time in acceptance.

"Victory is yours Ti, but not till monday, till then i'm still on vacation. Ja ne!"

Cellea dissolved from sight using his accelerated shunpo, and Ti Ral sheathed his blade, and folded his arms, surprised at the fact that his accomplishment didnt make him feel any better.

'If he were any other man', Ti thought, 'i know he'd come after my rank or higher, but with him, we'll be alright.'

In the distance, the inebriated sounds of music echoed...

"Come monday it'll be alright, come monday i'll be starting my new life..."