Welcome to my world, a dusky one.

Sample Post one:

High up in the sky was a plane, specifically the angel of death, riding at great altitude among the white fluffs, which were clouds; the flying devil of death was given the perfect natural cover by such things. After all, nature was wonderful, and violently destructive as well. Most important of all was the personal within the junker plane, Herr Jurgen Von Brandenburg, and Herr Azazel Clock. The Hauptsturmführer, Azazel wore quite casual clothing that he had picked up before entering the junker plane. This consisted of black pants, a short sleeved light blue Hawaiian shirt with palm tree design, black boots, and a pair of dark sun-glasses. The look was thoroughly completed with the addition of sleeked back hair and a pair of white gloves.

At the current time, there was nothing to do as Herr Jurgen was steering the airplane in circles around Hellsing HQ. Regardless of that, preparations had been made in advance in the form of RPGS, grenades of various kinds, assault rifles, pistols, rocket-launchers, grenade launchers, machine guns, sub-machine guns, C-4 explosives, and more ammunition for each than could be counted. Sitting quietly in the back, Azazel watched as Herr Brandenburg unloaded napalm bombs unto the rooftop of the Hellsing headquarters. All the while retaining a rather emotionless, cruel look on his face, which was simply the usual of his facial appearance.

Although the first two bombs had missed their mark, setting the gardens ablaze, it was still a wonderful sight. Of course, the third hit its mark, hitting the roof top and combusting into a hellish explosion. This was only the beginning, the real fun had yet to start. His eyes lit up in a fiery display of crimson, passionately burning brightly as if two beacons to hell. Really now, had Hellsing neglected to prepare for such things? Had they really let down their guard because of a few moments of peace? Absurd. That was the only word that came to mind at that moment, but even so, it was of no matter. The only thing that did matter was the fun this all created, there was no doubt of that, none at all. Veering further and further away as if a hit in run was all that this was, but that was not so, for the plane descended down towards Integra's office on the third floor, like death on swift wings.

Making no attempt to get out as the plane made contact with the walls of the office, instead, and just as it did so exploding, Azazel simply teleported out of the area, floating high above the HQ. Only two creatures were worthy of his notice, the butler, and the True Nosferatu, Integra. A True Nosferatu she may be, but still only a child who, more than likely, had not even masted the basics, much less absorbed souls into her being. Lazily floating above the room which Herr Jurgen had entered, he held a Pzf 44 in each arm, firing at various areas of the HQ. The rocket assisted grenades exploded, blowing up a large section of the north and south areas of Hellsing HQ. Again with teleportation, Azazel appeared out of nowhere into the room which Herr Jurgen was in.

"Oh dear me, oh dear my. I have no interest in blowing up random buildings, so I came here, and it seems that there are more than enough cockroaches to go around. You, boy. Yes, you'll do." Calmly, the words seemed to slip from his mouth.

The remark was directed at the boy, Nagi, who although was nothing to him, would make for a wonderful target. Then again, the other one, Void, was also included in this crude remark. It was quite strange, there he was, the vampire who had openly faced Hellsing and Iscariot many times in the past, and this time around, wearing such strange clothing. There was no certainty anyone without keen senses could know of him. However, as Azazel's appearance had changed quite a bit over the years. Yet, his aura was still the same, just far more vile and foul. He, too, had evolved quite a bit over the years. Holding a pistol in his hands, a HK UC loaded with silver, armor piercing bullets. He pointed the barrel towards Nagi, squeezing the trigger, firing four rounds at the boy. Then, pointing the pistol at Void, squeezing the trigger once again, another four rounds were fired. This time, at the Werewolf, Void.

Sample Post two:

Another old soul had entered unto the battle-field. This time it was the Obersturmfuhrer, Fritz. Whom promptly asked as to what Herr Brandenburg had been doing for the past two years. Then fired off a short eighty-round burst, and chucked several grenades at random places in the building. Fritz had resumed his assault on Nagi and Void, letting off a few rounds at Integra as well. In response to those actions preformed by Obersturmfuhrer Fritz, Azazel gave a dark, frigid look of approval toward the man. Whether or not he would understand the true meaning of the cold look was left up to question.

Backup was strategically relevant in this situation... but to Herr Clock, that was only because it kept the pest off of his back while he viciously attacked other, more worthy opponents. And Integra Hellsing's office was filled with that kind of pest, mostly children. Not true war veterans like him, those who had braved the ages past seeking true war. That kind of riffraff was not worth the Hauptsturmführer's time. Regardless, Azazel continued conspiring to be rid of them. He was a man who had fought in both WWI and WWII, a war veteran among war veterans as it were. Needless of deliberation, one could say intellect and strategy along with careful planning were quite important in the mind of that man. He did not abandoned intelligence for power, and because of that, he has survived thus far. Not the typical brainless beast who acts on impulse alone. If not for his obvious change in appearance, he would most certainly be noticed by all kinds of unwanted attention. A war Criminal of great caliber.

Raising a left hand to the pair of dark sun-glasses on his face and slightly lowering them. He watched as Walter blocked bullet after bullet, round after round. A dark crimson hue covering the vampires eyes, comparable to a misty fog claiming dominion over their natural or not so natural black color. Pistol and sub-machine gun rounds might have been useless against the Shinigami butler, but that didn't necessarily mean nothing else would have the same lack of effect. Absolutely. Azazel had already contemplated each scenario possible to his knowledge, before he even set foot on the plane, that was now in pieces within Hellsing HQ. He was just waiting to make the next move, and find out what kind of damage his and the others assault had done. Amusingly enough, the butler had positioned his wires all over the room.

"A triple crossing traitor like yourself would know what of "honor" and "bravery"? Such a funny man you are, Herr Dornez. You have neither of these things... So isn't commenting on such a thing ridiculous?"

Azazel calmly retorted...still maintaining his composed and collected status. He prepared to speak once more, only to be interrupted by gunfire aimed towards his head.

The senses of a vampire were incredible to say the least. The stronger the vampire was, the better their senses were. To a vampire, bullets seemed as if they were moving in slow motion. When coupled with the physical capability of their bodies, physical combat and even dodging bullets was child's play. Truly a devastatingly combination if taken advantage of in the correct manner. As the two rounds headed towards him, Azazel made use of his superhuman celerity and reflexes to jerk his upper-half backwards. This in turn caused the bullets to effectively miss and fly passed him, also knocking his glasses to the floor. Seconds later, he repositioned his upper-half, standing up straight, closing both his eyes, and facing towards Integra's direction.

"My apologies for ignoring your presence, Miss Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. I'll be sure to never do so again. In fact, let us remove some of those limbs now, shall we? It is unavoidable, after all. Hellsing Headquarters will be returned to the earth in form of ash, and you all with it. No doubt."

Almost instantly, his eyes opened, revealing those that shone bright red, and pupils dilated to very thin slits. Pointing the HK UCP in the general direction of Integra, he squeezed the trigger, firing off six silver AP rounds at the woman. The bullets were spread out over a wide area, yet aimed with the deadly accuracy. Then, he pointed the barrel towards the newcomer, Jay, firing off the final six bullets within the magazine at the foolish boy. Again, the rounds were wide spread, yet extremely precise and fired with great accuracy. Hitting the floor with a load thud, the magazine was unloaded. As for the HK UCP itself, the pistol was put neatly away within a holster.

"It seems to me, the thing that Herr Major considered to be a worthy adversary...is now nothing but a shoddy organization."

Azazel declared to all, his voice held a tone of formality that would not go without notice. Holding out his right white gloved palm to the general direction of Integra, he spoke.

"What happened to all of those interesting creatures that once filled the ranks of Hellsing? I hope this isn't all you have after these past years...speaking as someone who was there the last time around. I am deeply disappointed this is all that Hellsing has to offer. Herr Major would not be pleased to know that his enemy has become...so weak. Your ranks are filled with children."

He boldly states, retracting his hand back to the side, placing it upon the Falchion sword handle sheathed on his waist. Quickly picking up his sun-glasses off the floor, and placing them over his face. Azazel drew his blade. He noticed Herr Brandenburg toss a flash-bang grenade, causing him to close his own eyes, turning his vision away from the light. By doing so, he saved the majority of his sight. As a vampire's sight was exceptional, had he not done so, there would have been hell to pay.
Seconds after Herr Brandenburg had flung a mine at the butler, he darts forward and around the room, keeping low to the ground. Placing the sword in front of him for easy use just in case the wires were used, as even they could not cut through titanium. Moving from side to side, making sure he was not caught in the explosion. Azazel moved with exceptional reflex and agility, even for a vampire. Certainly, he was no ordinary vampire. Pulling his free hand up towards his mouth, biting onto his glove and in the same instance flinging it aside. A plan was in motion, and even the Shinigami butler would be put under pressure with this.

Azazel wasn't about to make it any easier for him. As a matter of fact, he would make things worse. His body generated a massive amount of bio-electricity that shot out towards the wires from his free hand. By his logic, the wires would conduct the electricity and surge into the butler providing it made contact. With this, the real conflict had begun.

Meanwhile, a demonic growling noise could be heard echoing through the room. Just then, three glowing orange eyes appeared on Azazel's back. Out from his body, a large white dog leapt into the room, as if out from another dimension entirely. Of course, this was just his familiar summoning. The demonic dog was enormous, fifteen feet in height and length with large sharp fangs, and incredibly shape claws. It drooled with an open mouth all over the place, slowing but surely advancing towards Nagi. Obviously attempting to cut off any escape routes.

Sample Post three:

The roaring wind that blew with a force that could knock any ordinary man not accustomed to its powerful force off balance. Vast blue skies that seemed to last for an eternity, and best of all, a powerful zeppelin armed to the teeth flying through the sky. With the zeppelins course predetermined it was only a matter of time before it reached the destination; London. In fact, the air ship was just overhead. The zeppelin flew over London, loud engines roaring like thunder, when Millenniums' large war machine lowered down, situating itself below the clouds. It was now visible to anyone on ground level.

There was only one purpose for this warship of death, and that was to level the ground with cannon fire to make way for the Major's invasion. It was this task that brought a certain man to this location, and this task was one of glory, excitement, and chaos. That certain man was none other than the Hauptsturmfuhrer himself, Azazel. The Hauptsturmfuhrer stood atop the zeppelins roof as the violent wind blew his now short, brown hair, and his clothes, they were that the full SS uniform, hat and all. He had been missing for quite some time, but not without good reason. He had been busy consuming souls, and preparing himself for the current day. While he had spent his time absorbing more souls into his being, Azazel had also used the majority of his leave to purge unwanted humanity from himself.

This would not be just any war, rather, it would be a complete mockery of Iscariot, and everything they stood for, but above all else the mockery of their God. A personal touch to war that Azazel would add as eternal war was a wonderful thing, but it could be made even better when used to mock a high deity. Iscariots' God was supposedly the creator of humankind, such as the case, what would better than to defile his beloved creations; humans.

The soldiers given orders long ago, the combat preparations already in place. The zeppelins cannons loaded and ready to be fired at a moments notice. Yes. It was time to begin the bloody purge of London, and defile all that was good and righteous. Flying over one of the most populated cities in England, the zeppelin opened one of its hatches, dropping around 300 large across unto the city, each cross had one corpse tied to each side. Quite a mess really, each one of the corpses was beyond recognition, just a mass of bloody meat and flesh with several holes and chunks missing. Among that, there was a rain of human innards that soon followed, lungs, hearts, blood vessels, salivary glands, esophagus, stomach, liver, gallbladder, pancreas, intestines, brains, spinal cord, nerves, muscles, kidneys, and bladders. These things poured down upon the city in a bloody rain causing mass panic of the civilians.

The panicking humans were attempting to run for their lives at that moment, it was then that the opportunity to invade had revealed itself, time for part two of the invasion of London. The zeppelins' cannons laid down heavy bombardment on the city, leaving enormous craters, bloodied corpses, and destroyed architecture where the large shells hit. With a wave of his hand and a psychotic grin, Azazel signaled his men to begin the assault. Rope ladders and zip lines, then fell from the underbelly of the zeppelin reaching all the way down to the city, an army of Ghouls rode them.

The Ghoul army was one thousand strong, and although they were not the best choice for soldiers, these Ghouls were not ordinary. Each Ghoul was trained specifically for combat, armed with a bullet proof riot shield, NATO SWAT armor with Level IV hard armor plates, and 7.92x33 mm MP 43 assault rifles. Aside from the one thousand strong army of Ghouls, the fifty FREAKs Azazel chose to lead his army in combat also made themselves known on the battlefield, each one armed with the same equipment as the Ghouls.

As for the Hauptsturmfuhrer, Azazel. His outfit was made of an experimental material that is bullet proof, and his weapon, a Panzerfaust 44 Lanze antitank grenade launcher. He was ready to go, ready to kill, but most of all, the Hauptsturmfuhrer looked forward to the feast. The delicacy he could never get enough of, the dish that not only had the power to make him stronger, but also bring him one step closer to a True Nosferatu; souls.

However, personal aspirations aside, there was a much more important task at hand. The city had to be captured for the glory of Millennium, but more importantly, the Major. Whatever the Major wanted, he got. This was the number one rule of Millennium, a rule the Hauptsturmfuhrer followed quite closely. Not only was he loyal, but he possessed the strength, power, and also the necessary intellect to lead an entire army with ease. Azazel's authority was never questioned for a reason, and very few were as competent as he.

In fact, the city below him was as good as captured already. The lives of every last person in the palm of his hand. Being the demonic, undead creature that he was, and coupled with his vast intellect, there was no doubt in any mind; it was already over before it began. The Hauptsturmfuhrer looked down at the city below him, and the chaos being bred within it. His eyes narrowed with glee as a cannon shell pummeled fleeing civilians, the psychotic grin still across his lips growing wider by the second.

Suddenly, he burst out into uncontrollable laughter. It made it seem as if he had gone mad. Meanwhile, the soldiers had already begun the attack, the orders they had been given were to shoot and kill anything that moved. Women, children, animals, nothing was exempt from being slaughtered, everything was a victim of death, for it spared no one. The role in which the soldier would play was not just fodder, they would be the stake, and the higher ups would nail that stakes into the heart, so to speak.

It would not be long now. The gears were now stuck, fast in place, and the only thing left was to give one, final push, one last smack to the stake. The city would crumble under an overwhelming force, a power greater than any other, the wrath of malice, and the calamity of evil.

The new dawn had arrived, and with it a new war to be reborn time and time again. Like an immortal phoenix, Azazel quickly swung his arms out, he now stood as if a man who was on death row being forced to jump off of a building. The Hauptsturmfuhrer lept from the zeppelin roof, giving himself in entirety to the wind. He fell fast and hard, completely at the winds mercy, or so it seemed anyway. Falling for what seemed like an eternity, Azazel was nothing more than a small dot plummeting from the sky, void of gravity, and as light as a feather. With that said, and front flipping in mid air, Azazel skillfully landed on both feet, catching his hat which had fell after him then placing in back on his head. In an ironic scene, cannon fire hit the area behind Azazel as he landed causing debris to spray the area violently, and fire to lick the entire area.

It did suit him, so much so that it was frightening, as if the fires of hell had erupted because of his presence. Walking further north, he pulled out a communication device from one of his pockets, turning it on, he brought the device closer to his face. Indeed. The real war had yet to begin, but as the soldiers had already started the assualt, it was just a matter of time before the city belonged to Millennium. Well, there was one thing to be said, once the Hauptsturmfuhrer got started, and backup arrived, the takeover would happen much quicker. Sounds of assault rifles blasting away, the explosions of cannon fire, and the screaming of fear, suffering, and anguish. Death was certain, its hour uncertain. Nothing last forever, nothing eternal, immortality was but a fairy tail.
　
"Get it in gear, dumb asses! The new dawn is here, and we will clean this place for Herr Major!! Shoot and kill anything that moves!!" The Hauptsturmfuhrer shouted out an order through the communication device.

A small boy with his mother and father, were hiding behind building rubble not too far from where Azazel was. The Hauptsturmfuhrer, having superhuman senses, was able to pick up on their presence, and in one swift, single, instant. He made use of his excessive speed to put himself in front of the three humans. The three attempted to get away by making a break for it to the other side of the rubble, but ultimately failed when Azazel fired his Panzerfaust 44 Lanze antitank grenade launcher. The Panzerfaust 44 hit the rubble, and the explosion caused large chunks of building material to fall on the three.

In another twist of irony, the materials landed on the humans' lower half, only crushing their bodies, and disabling their movement, but not killing them. How ironic this day was, first a scene of flames, and now this. It was certainly turning out far more interesting than he could have hope for, how lucky. Indeed. Now the most anticipated chance to torment someone had arrived.

The Hauptsturmfuhrer simply gazed at the man and woman with an expressionless look, before walking over to the human child, and kicking the rubble off from his lower half. Slowly, he gripped the boy by his throat, then Azazel lifted him off of the ground, quickly drinking his blood, and absorbing the soul. It was quite a messy scene, but it had to be done in front of the boys' parents in order generate as much despair as possible. For the most part, it worked. The man, and women were tearful for their child, and for the fact they would be next. There was glee in the Hauptsturmfuhrer's eyes, this was the joy of war, the fun of a madman, and the hobby of a devil. He quickly drained the other two of their blood and souls, before turning on the communication device yet again.
　
"Do not daddle!!! Get a move on!!! I want this place void of life, and in the Major's control by three hours tops, understand!! Sweep over it like a deadly plague!!!" He barked out another order.
　
Azazel reloaded his Panzerfaust 44, and began to walk down an alleyway nearby. His pupils shone with a sinister crimson hue, as if tiny, red dots had situated themselves in the Hauptsturmfuhrers eyes.

The unholy aura that protruded his body engulfed the battlefield, and the flames grew ever so intensely as cannon fire laid the city to ruin. The dawn had definitely arrived.

Nothing was immortal, but the laws of the world could be bent, twisted, and distorted. Vampires represented a prime example of this, as they are not immortal, but time did stopped for them. A creature could live forever provided it had the means, power, and intellect needed to survive an eternity.

The Hauptsturmführer, Azazel, was not satisfied with simply killing everyone and taking over London. No, he had much more diabolical plans in store for England. He had acquired information that Integra Hellsing had long since been absent from London. That being the case, Azazel decided to set up a fitting welcome home present. It was was going to be the complete ghoulification of the entire population in London. The Hauptsturmführer had another motive that just happened to tie in with his devilish plot, and that was the quick, cheap way to grow more powerful. He knew that if he absorbed enough souls, then his power would grow by leaps and bounds.

Azazel approached one side of London that had not yet been pummeled by cannon fire. It was a quaint little night club with inhabitants that had no idea that their country was under siege. It could have been the loud music, maybe the fact the soldiers had not reached it yet, or perhaps that the humans inside were just too high to notice. Whatever be the reason, the cleaver of death drew very near to them already.
　
He paced ahead, one step exactly the same as the other, in a repetitive fashion. It was almost as if the Hauptsturmführer was a zombie, or some mindless creature without a brain. Stepping inside the front doors of the night club, he was immediately approached by the bouncer. The human was instantly caught up in the dark, gloomy gaze of Azazel's eyes. The hypnotic effect of his vampire eyes already beginning its magic. The human man was like a brainless imbecile who could not so much as think on his own.

In a single second, the Hauptsturmführer shoved his hand through the bouncers chest, tightly gripping around the heart. Calmly, he ripped the still beating heart from the mans chest. Immediately, Azazel sunk both his fangs into the heart, puncturing it, and absorbing the o'so enjoyable blood and soul into his being. He then shoved both his fingers through the mans eyes, and into his brain. Then gripping the lifeless corpse by the neck, he tore the head from the body, squishing it between his fingers with inhuman force.
　
The actions taken caused mass hysteria and panic to break out, and everyone within the club to dart toward the exits as quickly as they could possibly run. The Hauptsturmführer's eyes gleamed with unusual malice, simply an appearance of dread and calm anger. Using a dagger from his pocket, and a bit of exaggerated footwork. He swiftly cut down all who tried to escape. Azazel thought to devour the life-blood and souls of these people, or at least that was what he had planned. However, there was one last task at hand, another rat he would need to step on in a sense.
　
The night club had a VIP backroom that could not normally be accessed. However, the guard was now dead along with almost every other living thing under that roof. Azazel made haste to march down the hall, and into the VIP area. It was there that he spoted a couple, who were getting it on rather vigorously. All sorts of noises echoed throughout that area, creaking, thudding, and the moans of ecstasy. The Hauptsturmführer calmly paced in without paying attention to the sexual relation going on. His heterochromic eyes each shone their respective color.

"Oh, dear. What do we have here. Commiting one of the seven deadly sins, eh? Lust is it, and in a public place no less. You're last on my list, and so you will have to die with haste so that I can move on. He spoke in a calm, yet sarcastic tone.

The shadows moved with unease as if some still unknown force had possessed them taking the form of arms and hands. They were under his domain no doubt. It was a rather distasteful use of shadow manipulation, however elegance was not a monsters strong suit, and even more so for he. It took no more than forty seconds for the shadows to rip the humans apart, there was not even a single speck of flesh left over. Soon, the blood inside the club was drawn to one point, with Azazel the center. It was absorbed into his body through the skin, and along with the souls of each and every person inside. The corpses rose to their feet as ghouls, marching out the doors and into the streets of London.

The rest was not worth mention. The Hauptsturmführer had simply moved from place to place consuming the bloods and souls of each person in London. Along with his army, Azazel had succeeded in making almost all of Londons inhabitants into ghouls. It was a place filled with terror and flames, burning yet never to be extinguished.

That person stood in the middle of the street with a disgusted look on his face. He had hoped this task would have proved more interesting, or at the very least a challenge. The only thing worth his attention at all was the souls, blood, and screams of terror. It was worth it since he did increase his own power a great deal, and felt a bit of enjoyment as well. All in all, Azazel was pleased, but he still wanted opposition to arrive regardless.

A black aura covered the streets, it lept from the Hauptsturmführer's body. It felt much more than evil, something darker, colder, and much more sinister. Like a blanket of black, purple energy that could not be seen through. The aura was clearly visible all around London, as it filled the sky in the form of some gargantuan monstrosity with countless arms, glowing red eyes, and a mouth wide open screeching like a banshee. Of course it was just the manifestion of his power, and could not harm anything, but even the soldiers were afraid.

Azazel's form was changing constantly, his hair, appearance, even the color of his eyes changed dramatically by the second. Finally, it had stopped at an appearance very different from usual. Perhaps it was something from his past, or maybe even his former or true appearance, but regardless, it was very different, almost royal like. The Hauptsturmführer's hair become a golden blonde, and his eyes a much more vivid, colorful version of their usual emerald green and sappire blue. He was much more handsome than before, but in spite of that, Azazel had the same disgusted look on his face as always.

Placing the Panzerfaust 44 Lanze antitank grenade launcher over his shoulder, he walked, and continued to walk down the street with no destination in mind.

Sample post four:

The effort Valintine and Penoso took to come out into the open to face the two strongest Espada was within the category of admirable. Unfortunately, for them it was also exceptionally unwise and only hastened their deaths. Truthfully, Shishi cared naught of the Quincy’s’ endeavor for the reason that destroying them had to happen, no matter what. They were a threat to not only his existence but Jubei’s as well. There was not anything more to it than that, what is more, is that he could not rest until every trace of the two Quincy was mercilessly annihilated. Therefore, like the ruthless tyrant he was, the Cero Espada felt strained to rectify the situation, and purge that, which remained.

The Hounds of Darkness gathered at two areas, one group went to where Penoso’s carcass laid, or at least what was left of it. The second group rushed to were Valintine’s cadaver lay, lording over his dead body as if they would devour what was left of him. Hellish growling filled the air and soon so did demonic howling. As if giving some sort of sign, the Cero Espada raised a clawed hand into the air, and at that very moment, all of the Dogs exploded creating a massive burst of energy. The sheer destructive power was something not even five of his Cero combined could accomplish, truly a magnificent sight.

Pointing an outstretched palm in the direction of the general area where the two Quincy had fallen, he curled his fingertips inward of said palm. As a globe of orange hollow Reiatsu began forming over the palm, it was quad focused, a colossal amount of power even for a Cero. When the Cero was fired it was an orange immense wide arc beam, hitting the ground, and causing a massive amount of destruction. This Cero was no ordinary one, it was the Cero of a former Vasto Lorde turned Arrancar. A released Cero Espada’s Cero, but more importantly it was his. Intellect had its place on the battlefield, but extreme violence always prevailed in the end, at least that were true when the enemy was just as smart as you were.

Shishi was still holding his black sword in hand when Alejandro has asked if he was ready to depart. Turing his body to face the Primera Espada, Shishi said, “yes, brother. I am ready…Let us depart.” Those words were spoken with more warmth than formerly seen, a sign that aspects of Jubei’s own personality were flooding into Shishi. Oddly, his mind worked in ways no one else could understand. As even, he himself did not understand himself. Two people in one body, one mind…it was baffling.

Sample post five:

In mid air, high up into the sky, an enigmatic figure stood overhead like a king viewing his kingdom. Above all, surrendering to the freedom and gentle yet violent force that was the wind. Or so it seemed anyways, perhaps the wind was surrendering to him? No matter what was happenings, the air and wind always kept a calm feeling. And at times, it could become as violent and fierce as any weapon of mass destruction. Truly a wonderful thing. Nature was by far better than anything mankind could produce, and more destructive as well. Well, this was true in most cases at least. Whatever could be said about this seemingly proud figure, one thing was for certain. He was taking claim to all that surrounded the area. The air. The people, even the buildings. Nothing was exempt. A selfish and fearless aura protruded from his being, though it wasn't entirely notable from his viewpoint. Indeed... this man was too high above to be noticed...by anyone normal that is. However it was doubtful even those below noticed, as they were so absorbed in their own conflict...how would they have the presence of mind to notice him?

The man carefully watched as the two went head to head. His long, black trench coat fluttering freely in the air as if caught in the gentle breeze. Plain black pants covered his lower half while a black shirt with a curious red red line insignia fit neatly unto the upper. Twin black gloves exactly the same as each other cover both his hands. For all purposes, the only thing that could be seen as truly unusual about this man was the black mask that covered his entire face. Nothing could be seen beyond this, and it appeared to mask even his eyes--for it gave the guise that the sclera were black, and the pupils red. Quite a frightening appearance indeed, it did a lot to add to anonymity to the figure clad in black. A few light shaded blonde locks blew about carefully in the cool breeze, seemingly free from the mask though it covered the entirety of his face. All wind and air about the area seemed to bow down complete to the enigmatic man--it parted at his presence appearing as if he held sovereignty over such a thing.

"Well then. Shall I give you a hand? Hmm...My old acquaintance? Be done with it! I'm sure you've spent enough time on this nave already." Enkidu spoke, loud enough for the two below to hear his words.

The voice was extremely proud and cocky, filled with arrogance. His words sounded as if the fight was already over even though he had yet to raise a hand. This was not unusual for him, because he viewed almost everyone as beneath him. This man, the Arrancar...was no different, or the half breed as he would put it. Certainly there nothing in particular held against this Arrancar, or any race for that matter. It was simply a moment of opportunity--a job that had to be done--one way or another. Nothing more and nothing less.

"You, too, shall bow before me, nave!" Shouted Enkidu.

Holding out his forefinger toward Stark, air began to form into a tiny sphere, compressing into an orb. The orb was made out of high speed wind and quickly compressed, which was then fired at down unto Stark's body in general, at speeds comparatively faster than a bullet. What seemed like a hasty attack was actually a well planned out strike. Given Stark's current position, and Null's attack beforehand, the blow was more sure to hit successfully than it usually would have been. A crushing force that would pulverize even Hierro.

Sample post six:

Watching as the light appeared at his targets back, streaming out into many paths and disintegrated the attack, Enkidu smirked. A smirk that was concealed by the mask still pulled close over his face. It wasn't a smile of insanity nor disbelief, simply that of a haughty man who was not impressed at all. Nothing could move the still man from his spot high up into the sky, not even this little light-show the boy seemed so proud. A shoddy wannabe angel, this brat seemed to be just a little boy, nothing more. What's more, his attempt to intimidate Null was hilarious. Something Enkidu found to be a particularly delightful show, one that certainly brought amusement to the otherwise boring show. At that moment, it was decided...Enkidu decided that he would be the boy's opponent. Naturally that would leave the other one for Null, but even if Null himself objected, which he most certainly would not, it wouldn't matter either way. It seemed the two foes had other plans however, as the boy launched an attack, seemingly moving at quickening speeds. Despite this, every movement was seeable, and not a single one difficult to follow.

Light did nothing to affect his sight, for he was a man who lived the entirety of his life within darkness. Not relaying on eyes, and not heeding the light. That said, it could also be pointed out that Enkidu had an easier time following things than most. He never had any enemies that he could not follow with his minds eye, the boy was no exception to this fact. Nonetheless, and for whatever reason, all of that time was spent motionless, as Enkidu did not move once single inch. Noticing Stark appear before him, and following his movements, Enkidu had already moved in order to defend himself from the Cero. However, it seemed that wouldn't be necessary, as Null had interrupted and Enkidu himself was pushed out of the way. Rather than object, the human used this timing to go after his own target. And so by reducing the wind resistance around his body, Enkidu took off towards the Quincy with quite easily inhuman speeds. The speed at which he moved left quite a few after images in his wake, and even more blurs. Landing about twenty feet in front of the boy, Enkidu reached out a hand towards his own mask.

Placing his hand atop the mask, he shifted one side of it off his face, revealing a cold, dark left eye.

"Tch. You made a big mistake of coming here, boy. There is no chance of victory for you, nor your little buddy, and I shall show no mercy to the likes of you."

Fixing the mask across his face, Enkidu held one hand out in the direction the boy. The wind was rapidly accelerated in front of him, quickly turning into a violent gust. The powerful air was manipulated to cause high speed wind friction, which in turn created a quick bolt of lightning darting out for the Quincy. While he may have not looked like it, Enkidu was quite intelligent, and as such, he, too, could formulate a grand strategy. So the Quincy appeared to be able to turn into light, also moving quickly, this lightning was a counter action for just such a thing. That was not all, however...Enkidu held his palm to the sky, closing it. As he did so, the wind around fifteen feet about the Quincy was accelerated to around 200 MPH, and brought down toward him with exceptional power. All the awhile something else was happening around them, the area which the combatants were in. Null, Stark, Artemis and even Enkidu himself, was suddenly surrounded by a vicious wind barrier. They were all trapped, no doubt Enkidu's handy-work. The barrier of wind was condensed, so if anyone tried to leave through it they'd be lacerated all over, and so many attacks would be deflected as well. Needless to state, it could not be maintain indefinitely, but with his training, the human was able to hold it for a considerable amount of time.