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[umbralant]

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Good morning.

Or perhaps it might be more appropriate to say good evening instead, considering how it is moonlight that will rouse you into consciousness. And what a bright moon it is, half-full and clear without contest in the sky as it outshines the stars and galaxies in the backdrop. But it’s all the better to emphasize that the buildings that speckle the landscape before you are all completely devoid of any light. And by the way—do you always sleep outside?

The lack of light can be something to deal with later though, at least when you've properly gotten up from the cold, unyielding stone below you. And that chill down your spine—no doubt that probably has something to do with combination of cool temperatures and poor sleeping conditions, but it’s odd how it seems to linger.

Checking your person for any items that should be in your possession yields disappointing results, but it seems you're not empty handed (or pocketed) because you are now the proud owner of one (1) small bundle of black cloth. Unwrapping it reveals a key imprinted with a roman numeral, along with a simple note.

“Come at 6PM to the place circled on this map:”

“Don’t be tardy, dear Survivors, that’d be a bad first impression. If you don’t want your stay here to be more unpleasant than it’ll already be, you’ll want to avoid seeming careless or disrespectful. You’ll want to listen to my opening speech~!”

Finally, after an empty space that may be simulating an intense pause, there’s one last line:

“I know what you’re thinking, so I’ll say it straight: if you don’t come, you’re as good as dead.”

The news likely isn't welcome, but it's a start. And it seems you're not alone in your plight, though whether company is within arm's length or a stone’s throw away is up to fortune’s whims. For now, you're free to explore the town square and the surrounding areas as best you can in the dim light.

For some reason or another, Krakow, Poland is now your new home. That much is clear from the sign posts that you can inexplicably read, as red and white flag posts with "Święto Niepodległości" flutter lightly in the wind. While the storefronts are dark, the street lamps that scatter the town provide some measure of light, providing some solace against the layer of fog that's begun to creep in.

( OOC: Welcome to Antumbra! This intro log occurs ICly Sunday. Your MM's will be around at 6pm EST to hear your complaints. )

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[moonfang]

[Welp.

It takes some time for Zangetsu to get his bearings. For one thing, this is definitely not where he should be. The city he was used to did have nights, yes, but they were never this dark -- the moon in Ichigo's inner world shone as brightly as the sun. The gravity here was all off, as well... the buildings were in a much more vertical position than he was used to, with an old-world European style he had never seen before.

And all that paled in comparison to how dull and numb he felt. If there were any other souls in the area, he couldn't feel them. If there were spirit particles in the air, he couldn't utilize them. An attempt to summon up some spiritual energy in his hand fails, and he can't find or summon his blade form. It felt like the thick fog that hung around the city has permeated his soul, as well

With a groan, he makes his way to the candle shop first]

Eugh... it smells so weird in here. [he takes a candle and sniffs it... then gags, overpowered by the sugar sweet smell of... "Caramel Apple"? Did apples really smell this way?!] Aren't there any candles in here that DON'T smell like pure sugar?! I just want LIGHT!

[what a strange young man. His skin is almost as pale as his white outfit, and he has black bar-like markings over his dark eyes, peering out with almost luminous yellow irises. A pair of blade-like obsidian colored horns are probably his most outstanding feature]

[p_q]

... Settle down, Hollow. There's no reason to make such a big fuss over a candle.

[Says Ulquiorra, who just walked in with a candle. It's also lit, flame flickering softly over both of them and what at this point looks like a candle graveyard considering everything else is sitting there stone cold. His snake-like eyes watch the Hollow-like creature that resembles Kurosaki Ichigo with some curiosity.

Nothing is ideal in this place, least of all the people he would have expected or wanted to find here. But beggars can never be choosers, especially in Hueco Mundo.

As for him, he looks exactly like himself, not a hair out of place somehow; the only thing that differs is the utter lack of spiritual pressure and the empty spot at his waist where Murciélago should have been.]

[moonfang]

[Zangetsu bristles, quite literally -- the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he hears that voice.]

... Tch... You.

[It's so strange, to not be able to feel Ulquiorra's presence -- the cold, crushing pressure, like being drowned miles underwater. It must be the same for Ulquiorra, for this strange Ichigo-thing to not be giving off hot, intense energy, being seared by a supernova.

Nope. For both of them, everything was just... dull. Wrapped in cotton.

Zangetsu puts aside the surprise and puts on a casual smile]

Ain't you lookin' fresh as a daisy! Last time I saw ya, you were becoming one with the sand in that stupid desert.

[this thing looks like Ichigo, but he sure doesn't talk like Ichigo]

[p_q]

Me. And you, though I've no idea how you've manifested in this form. You are... Kurosaki Ichigo, or some version of him, are you not?

[The irony of that question is lost on him at this point in time; at some indeterminate point in the near-future he'll ask it, and ask it with no answer whatsoever -- and the spiritual pressure he encounters will be just as alien as the experience of meeting what is undoubtedly some kind of Hollow and yet feeling no stir of Pesquisa in his senses.

It makes him hold himself differently, carefully keep the creature in his sights, limited though they are now.

It's easy to simply let its chatter bounce off him as he allows most other Arrancars' engagements to slide off, but...]

... And I don't know what nonsense you're speaking, but it has nothing to do with me.

[moonfang]

[Ironic indeed. But this time, Zangetsu is a little more in control and a little less hyperfocused on kill kill KILLKILLKILLCONSUMEDESTROY. The creature chuckles a little and leans on the checkout counter, balancing his chin on his hand]

I am him, and he is me. We are as two sides of a coin, Espada. He protects everyone... and I protect the protector! Hahaha! As for who I am, well... by what name does Ichigo call his sword?

[p_q]

[Perhaps they're both more in control at this point -- or as in control as they can be when somebody else is in control of the city and their spiritual abilities and whatever the hell else. The hand that isn't idly holding the candle aloft is in his pocket, shifting restlessly; the rest of him stays still, unwilling to betray any unease.]

A pretty sentiment, but that's all you two are. You are simply his poor attempt to measure up to the Arrancar, nothing more. [a small tilt of the head] I can't say he ever bothered to call his sword by name in my presence.

[Would he have remembered it? 50-50. It is a thorn in his side, after all, he's acknowledged that much.]

[moonfang]

[Zangetsu just chuckles. "Measure up to the Arrancar". So much has changed since Ulquiorra bit the dust... so much had been revealed... it wasn't worth it to try and explain it all, since he's sure bat-boy wouldn't believe him]

Then let me enlighten ya. I am called Zangetsu. Now tell me, Cuatro -- what's the last thing you remember before waking up in this deserted shitscape?

[p_q]

[And Zangetsu probably isn't the best one to explain all of it, all things considered; especially not since they've wound up in this mess. They can trot along merrily in the paradox of the space-time continuum with no one the wiser -- for now. Ulquiorra may be a champion at denial but there are plenty of things that aren't lining up no matter which way you slice it.]

I see. A strange state of affairs -- I was about to introduce your master to Murciélago itself when I found myself under a different moon.

[A slight narrowing of his eyes.]

And that is a strange question to start with.

[moonfang]

Ahh... so that's the last thing you recall. [Zangetsu chuckles a little] Well, you're in for a surprise when we get out of this dump. [he frowns a little] ... If we get out of this. [a pause, and then with conviction;] No, I have to, and that's all there is to it. [is he talking to himself, or Ulquiorra...?]

Anyway. I won't be spoiling anything for you, so don't worry~ Just know that the Ichigo you were facing before ya got here is like.... well.... if he were a bug, I'd say he'd still be a larva!

[contrabandit]

Alas, I'm afraid you're out of luck. If only there was a section of unscented candles.

[ ... he says as he stands right in front of one such section. ]

Might as well accept your dark future and make peace with it.

[moonfang]

Oi! [Zangetsu turns, gesturing angrily with what appears to be some sort of lighter] I can tell when I'm bein' sassed, and I don't much appreciate it! I ain't never been in a store full'a candles before! I didn't even know they CAME with smells!

[he walks over and shoos the guy away with his free hand] Get outta the way.

[contrabandit]

Well, there's your problem. If you only gave sass a chance, you would appreciate it more and have a better time.

[moonfang]

Sass is a privilege for times of comfort, wouldn't ya say?

[Zangetsu selects a long-burning, unscented candle. He sniffs it, then, satisfied, lights it]

I sure like it a whole lot better when I'm the one dishin' it out.

[contrabandit]

Ha ha, that's funny. [ then with some surprise: ] Oh, wait, you're serious? I have some serious doubts about your reading comprehension. Are you even capable of sass?

[moonfang]

I am definitely capable of sass! I just don't get out much.

[contrabandit]

I eagerly await a demonstration.

[moonfang]

You'll get one! When I'm good and ready!

[baitless]

[...you... you know what, fine, given some of the people he knows he is just going to look at some weird lookin' young guy with horns and bone-white skin and just]

...It is a touch overwhelming, isn't it.

[...agree, honestly, the sweet stuff is kinda bad...]

I like the ones that smell of cinnamon, but even then, it is far more powerful than I would expect.

[moonfang]

[Zangetsu seems a little startled by the other man, and he lets out a sigh]

Geez.... I'm still not used to you people just... being able to see me, no big deal... [he shakes his head and resists the urge to toss the candle -- if it broke, then the smell would just be everywhere] Why do they need ta be scented anyway?

[baitless]

...is that... unusual?

[what the fuck, honestly. but uh. anyway, about candles.]

In any case, I presume they would be pleasant in the event that they were well made and used sparingly.

[moonfang]

Well, yeah. I'm... [he rolls the candle around in his hand, humming] How ta put it...? I guess the easiest way to explain it is that I'm a spirit -- not of the physical plane. Usually.

[he sighs again and sets the candle aside]

... Yeah. Real sparingly.

[baitless]

...oh, so you are like... a ghost of some sort?

[...it's more or less a clarification because oh goddess, should he warn Lysithea, or will she care if she doesn't think of them as ghosts immediately...?]

Well, in any case, it's a bit like incense, I think.

[moonfang]

Hard ta be a ghost when you were never really alive to begin with, but... close enough, I guess.

[baitless]

That is not something I am particularly familiar with, but I suppose it's...

[...]

...a different worlds thing? This is getting a bit difficult to adjust to, honestly.

[moonfang]

Hehehahaha! Well... my "world" is broken up into several separate realms, so it's not too weird for me to think about. People write about it in books and videogames and stuff all the time.