Ichigo was reeling from the ultimate in weird sensations racing from somewhere in the vicinity of his chest to bizarre, invisible points inside his body. From navel, to sternum, throat, to between his eyes, and back again like a closed loop of fire burning him from the inside out.
He fell with Shiro, forward to slump over the hollow, barely realizing that his bloodied arm smeared stains on the sheets. He felt his eyes go, ( colors, light, all sharpened into hyper clarity ) turning hollow black, and gold as a year's worth of time caught up with Shiro all in one long burst. It was painful to Shiro - neural pathways being branded into the mind in such a short time was normally not something a human brain could survive - but as the hollow curled up, Ichigo gasped, mouth working around sounds that wouldn't come. He couldn't get a breath around the rush of all that time equalizing with his hollow. The soul chain flared bright, and throbbed with a hellish, red light, transmitting knowledge, yes, but more importantly? Power.
The power to create black tempests of hellfire, the strength to fuel Shiro's hollowfied abilities, and in return, Ichigo's arm felt like it was made of ice cold acid - what liquid nitrogen would feel like he imagines - as the muscles, veins, and skin knit themselves back together smoothly. It hurt. It all hurt in such a strange way!
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-01-30 06:26 am (UTC)He fell with Shiro, forward to slump over the hollow, barely realizing that his bloodied arm smeared stains on the sheets. He felt his eyes go, ( colors, light, all sharpened into hyper clarity ) turning hollow black, and gold as a year's worth of time caught up with Shiro all in one long burst. It was painful to Shiro - neural pathways being branded into the mind in such a short time was normally not something a human brain could survive - but as the hollow curled up, Ichigo gasped, mouth working around sounds that wouldn't come.
He couldn't get a breath around the rush of all that time equalizing with his hollow. The soul chain flared bright, and throbbed with a hellish, red light, transmitting knowledge, yes, but more importantly? Power.
The power to create black tempests of hellfire, the strength to fuel Shiro's hollowfied abilities, and in return, Ichigo's arm felt like it was made of ice cold acid - what liquid nitrogen would feel like he imagines - as the muscles, veins, and skin knit themselves back together smoothly. It hurt. It all hurt in such a strange way!