#it probably needs to be refined cus it’s not a great idea but oh well

[sageourplanetmeow]

Molly Redesign

I’m kinda disappointed that (what seems to be) Molly is kinda… plain… I prefer her older designs, oh well.

I personally think it would make more sense to have more human-ish winners in heaven because I don’t think it would be overly pleasant to have your body completely changed.

Unless you’re a redeemed soul then I think it would make sense to still just look like a heavenly version of your hell form like Sir P.

The first photo is my Heaven Molly Redesign/her human design just minus the wings and halo.

Then we have Angel obviously and after that we have her and Angel at ~10 years old.

[lo-55]

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch. 8

Not Yet Too Late

 When they are tossed unceremoniously out the gate of the Dangai (and hell, Ichigo never thought he’d miss the vertigo of a Ray Shift before) Ichigo and Yoroichi are the only ones who land on their feet. Orihime breaks their fall with one of her barriers. Seeing it in action, three pronged and glowing, helps him file away what she can do for later.

 He starts looking around.

 They’re in a village, one that’s empty and devoid of life. Seemingly. Ichigo sees shadows move in the buildings. Okay. Not ideal. Nothing good comes from dropping right in the middle of civilization. It always leads to a fight. London had been a shit show and a half.

 At least he can see now. And what he sees, down the road, is unmistakable.

 “Is that Seireitei?” Ichigo asks aloud. A sprawling city with the harsh edges and an oppressive aura of order and structure. There was a thin line the separate the streets there, shining and well kept, from even the nice enough streets they stood upon. Ichigo knew it for what it was even if Kyo hadn’t told him about it before. He can recognize a military compound for what it is.

 “Yes,” Yoruichi comes to stand at his feet. “Right now we’re in the Rukongai, the outskirts of the soul society. This is the part of the soul society where the most souls live, and also the poorest part.”

 Ichigo doesn’t respond as Yoruichi explains it to his friends who don’t know.

 He eyes the line in the ground.

 “They’ll know we’re here,” he said abruptly. “We need to move away from here. Our entrance was too flashy, and the people in these houses probably won’t keep us a secret. Yoruichi, the Seireitei. Does is have some kind of bounded field?”

 There was no way a military complex didn’t have defenses, no matter how it looked right there.

 “...Yes. There’s a wall that will fall should anyone try to cross the threshold without a permit. On top of that, there’s a gate guardian who will not let anyone past him.”

 “That’s fine. Okay,” Ichigo ran his fingers through his hair, gathering it all to the back of his head. He tied it into a tight, short pony tail. “We need a base of operations so we can figure out how to get in. We’re short on time but still… I’d like to avoid rushing in head first.”

 If it was just him, he probably wouldn’t be so cautious. If it was him, Mash, Cu, and Medusa he would have no hesitation. Break in, make a fuss, and disappear into the veritable maze he knows stretches out. Kyo had told him once how easy it was to get lost if you didn’t know where he was going.

 Joy.

 Yoruichi is giving him the strangest look, but she doesn’t argue.

 “You’re right. Come with me. I have a friend nearby who I believe will be willing to help us.”

 “Sure.”

 Ichigo casts one last look at the Seireitei and follows after the black cat leading their path.

     Just wait for me a little longer Rukia. I swear. I will come save you.  

       *

 Three days.

 Kisuke has been training Ichigo Kurosaki for three days when Yoruichi finally comes back from where she’s taken his two young friends for their own training. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, this whole plan.

 Not their ages, though they are infants by shinigami time. Smaller people than them are made killers, as Kisuke himself well knows. He was barely taller than Jinta when he had met Yoruichi, and scarcely five years older than that when she first handed him envelope of thick, expensive paper. The parchment itself had been worth more money than he’d seen in his entire first century of after-life. The life inside of it, worth somehow more and less.

 He knew, understood intimately, how far a person could go for their friends. As far as follow them into a dark, dangerous new world.

 They don’t have a lot of options, other than to train these teenagers to the best of their abilities. He, Tessei, Yoruichi and the Visord are all banned completely from the Soul Society. Shy of destroying the defending, interdimensional barrier that binds them, there’s no way for them to go in.

 While he could, if he did then they would be faced with Yamamoto and the terrible two, Ukitake and Kyoraku, the second they stepped foot in rukongai. Even Kisuke, with his clever plans and deadly edge, can’t stand against the overwhelming power of Yamamoto’s burning blade.

 That’s not even to mention the other two captains, who are kind only when they can be.

 Kisuke had been young still, just a tetchy little first year in the academy, who hadn’t yet learned to hide completely behind his smiles, under Shihoin sponsorship the last year of the Quincy war.

 He can remember intimately, horribly, the dark look in Yoruichi’s eyes when she walked back into the Shihoin manor with the two trailing after her. It had been the first time Kisuke had ever seen the two, and the affable captain of the eighth and the gentle commander of the thirteenth were no where to be seen.

 They were commanders in a war of extermination, with shadows in the their eyes, and a hand on a blade at all times. Everything about them had been dangerous, weary dogs barely leashed to their master. Ready for the next fight, ready for the next kill. They hadn’t had the luxury of mercy then.

 If any of them are caught in Seireitei, there will be no luxury allowed from the Central 46.

 But these teenagers are young. The old guard, Yamamoto, Unohana, and Yamamoto’s first two students like to pretend that they’re no longer wolves. Kisuke is forced to bank on the idea that they will go after these children with as much mercy as they will be allowed.

 That was the plan.

 It had started as a contingency plan when Masaki and Isshin had first come to him with news of her pregnancy. A dark scheme that he wanted to discard, but he wasn’t able to. A child with the blood of a great shinigami line and a long standing quincy one. Half blooded on both sides, with the potential of a natural born hollow inside his soul.

 (Kisuke’s hands have itched for years to see this boy, to find out what he could do, where his tendencies lay.

 Then Masaki had died, and Isshin had forbidden any of them from coming near the Kurosaki house. Even Kisuke has enough respect for that.)  

 The plan      was    a hail mary that banked on the better nature of war veterans and murderers, and Yoruichi’s ability to train and keep track of human teenagers. She’ll have more luck herding cats.

     Was    .

 Now, things have changed.

 Ichigo lies a hundred yards away in a crater, his arms stretched out and his breathing even. Even asleep, he’s not let go of his sword.

 Yoruichi sits at his side, her tail curled around her front paws.

 “He really just meditated and woke up his powers?” Kisuke has to ask again. It’s the second time. Rarely does he need something repeated but this… This is a bit different.

 “Mmmm. He was in a house that wasn’t his families. It only smelled like him and the mod soul, Kon. I didn’t get to see everything, obviously. I’m not sure what he did. He said, and I quote, ‘Fucking everyone is so damn cryptic all the time’. And then, ‘a backwards ray shift’. After that he slipped into something like jinzen. His reitsu changed while he was meditating, and you know the rest.”

 Kisuke frowned deeply. “Who was being cryptic?”

 “I couldn’t tell you,” Yoruichi shakes her head. “He’s a strange kid, Kisuke.”

 “That’s putting it mildly. Have you seen him fight? I’ve never seen anyone that refined and that coarse in the same time.”

 “He doesn’t have a single particular style,” Yoruichi agreed. “But it’s clear he knows several different ones, and is at least proficient in each. Did you notice he’s ambidextrous?”

 “Mhmm. I did. Did you notice his soul looks older than his body?”

 Kisuke is reluctant to admit it, but he might have to talk to Isshin about this.

 He should be more worried. He is, his mind spinning a hundred paranoid ideas. Everything from Aizen has already gotten to Ichigo, even though he knows that’s impossible right now, to Ichigo has been replaced by a clone that Kisuke didn’t make.

 * *

 They finally lure the people out of hiding so Yoruichi can ask the leader of the village for someone named Kukaku.

 Shiba Kukaku. If Ichigo recalls, Kyo had once told him that Shiba were a strange type of royalty in the Seireitei. Not as stuck up as the rest of the noblemen, who Kyo quietly despised (he’d never been good enough at lying to hide all of his vitriol from Ichigo) they were a rowdy bunch that blew things up a lot.

 Not exactly stealthy, but Ichigo was willing to go along with whatever Yoruichi’s plan was for now. Clearly she knew what she was doing. She and Urahara, and probably Tessai and the kids, were undoubtedly from here. What happened and why they were in the world of the living was none of his business.

 They were in the middle of talking to the old man when the door burst open and a pig launched a man off of her(?) back.

 Ichigo caught him effortlessly around the middle.

 “Ah! She threw me again!” The stranger shouted, far to close to Ichigo’s ear. Ichigo set him on his feet.

 “Careful,” he advised. The man dusts his pants off and finally looks to Ichigo.

 “I’m fine, I’m fine. It happens all… the… time?” He stares. Ichigo can see the flip switched in his head, and suddenly he’d ducking a punch. “A punk ass shinigami!”

 “Hey. Don’t be rude,” Ichigo says with no sense of irony at all. The man is broad, strong, with a bandana over his black hair and goggles over his eyes.

 “What are you doing here?!”

 Ichigo just stared at him. This guy was so rowdy. They really didn’t have time to be dealing with him…

 Of course, he got right in Ichigo’s face. He even patted his cheek patronizingly.

 “Didn’t you hear me? I asked what a punk ass shinigami like you is-”

 When Ichigo punches him he goes flying right back through the wall.

 “...huh,” Ichigo says idly. “I tried to hold back.”

 That training with Urahara must have done him more good than he first thought.

 He picks his way through the broken wall to find his attacker knocked out on the ground.

 “Oh. Well that happened.”

 He shrugs it off and goes back inside to sit beside Yoruichi in front of a bug eyed mayor while a bunch of punks riding literal hogs surround the guy Ichigo knocked out.

 “Anyhow. You were saying your friend lives somewhere around here, weren’t you?”

 “....yes. We will have to find Kukaku’s house, but I believe that she will help us.”

 “How is she going to get us into Seireitei? If the walls come down and there’s guards at the gate that cuts off the direct route.”

 “You’re not wrong.”

 Yoruichi explains that the Seireitei is surrounded on all sides by a spirit barrier. No amount of spirit energy will serve them any good. Which is irritating. If it was spells or a bounded field they could maybe find a way to wind through them or hack past the barriers, like Flat does as easy as breathing. But if it’s that secure, above and bellow, Ichigo really has no choice but to trust Yoruichi to know what she’s doing.

 He doesn’t have any better ideas, certainly. So they set off to find this Kukaku Shiba.

 The only problem is that she is, apparently, the older sister of the guy Ichigo KO’d. And that’s how Ichigo finds himself running away from a woman with one arm and a hand full of bombs.

 How is this his life?

 Yoruichi manages to smooth things over by explaining that Ganju had started everything and Ichigo had only hit him once. Then the scolding goes from Kukaku on Ichigo to Kukaku on Ganju.

 “And I thought I had weird family dynamics,” Ichigo muttered to Uryu, who’s been watching the whole ordeal like it’s a sitcom.

 “Your family dynamics are weird,” Uryu replies without missing a beat.

 Ichigo snorts, but shuts up when Kukaku turns to them.

 “Alright. Since this is Yoruichi and Urahara asking me, I can’t say no to this job. But I don’t trust you kids. So once Ganju,” Who had been dragged home by the hog riders while Ichigo’s group was looking for the house, “Wakes up, he’ll be going with you.”

 First Ichigo knocked him out, then his own sister. Ichigo is starting to pity the fool.

 Which was just great.

 “Fine,” Ichigo mentally starts changing his plans again around the new arrival. It’ll add friction. Ganju clearly hates shinigami, but if they’re going up against shinigami hopefully the common enemy will help smooth over the enmity.

 “But first, how exactly are you planning on getting us in there?”

 “Huh? I’ll show you.”

 Kukaku leads them into the bowels of the house, until they’re standing in a dark room and looking up at a round chimney that Ichigo knows extends high outside.

 “I’m going to get you in through the sky!”

 “...fuck me,” Ichigo says. “It’s a canon.”

     Please dear god let this be less terrifying than being shot into the sky on a bow.  

 “That’s right! You’re looking at the number one fireworks maker, Kukaku Shiba!”

 Fuck.

 “Okay.”

 Kukaku tosses a ball his way. Ichigo turns it over in his hands, inspecting it curiously. There’s a design on it that reminds him vaguely of a phoenix and star wars. The door slides open while Ichigo is inspecting it, and Ganju steps inside. He’s got a nasty black eye.

 “Focus your energy in there,” she orders.

 Ichigo, who has spent five years pouring his mana and reiryoku into literally dozens of people, does just that. It’s as easy as breathing. A light flickers and he finds himself in a perfect sphere that glows so brightly with his energy it threatens to blind even him. Beyond the confines he can hear his friends shout. So he cuts off the pouring of power and drops the ball to the floor.

 “Was that right?” he asks.

 The dropped jaw on Kukaku’s face was enough of an answer.

 Ichigo always has been good at making impressions.

 “Yeah,” she says at last, recovering faster than Ichigo was expecting. “That’ll work. My men will take you to the training room for some more practice. If it’s not perfect by tomorrow, you’ll blow up on entry.”

 Ichigo doesn’t even blink.

 “I understand. Thanks.”

 While they’re walking away, Ichigo takes a look back just in time to see Ganju’s face twisted in unmistakable pain.

 * * *

 Tea steams across the table, twirling in the light of the overhead. The kettle sits on the counter, unplugged but still hot and ready to use. The wonders of human convenience.

 Isshin sits across from Kisuke on the low table, his eyes strangely dark, his customary smile missing. It’s frankly disturbing, and a good sign of the times.

 “So,” Isshin starts. “Why did you call? I doubt it’s a social call.”

 Indeed, his son has just left on a potential suicide mission to save a girl he barely knows on grounds of a favor that he owes. It’s such a Shiba thing to do.

 Ichigo is a frightening boy, he is his parents son, but Kisuke thinks he will surpass them both rather soon.

 “No, I'm afraid not,” Kisuke’s tone is still light, still somewhat playful. He misses Yoruichi at his side. He kind of misses the brash, unbending teenager that had been in his basement. Ichigo seems to have a talent for worming his way into people’s good graces, despite his manners.

 Kisuke can’t imagine how often he gathers followers if his plan for invading seireitei was to make allies and convince them to commit treason. Ichigo doesn’t seem      stupid    . Perhaps just overly optimistic?  

 “When did you teach your son to fight with a sword?” he asks instead, starting with the easiest question. Easier than asking ‘Isshin why the fuck does a child move like he’s lived and breathed fighting but thinks the bonds of friendship will save him?’. Or, ‘How did Ichigo do in one hour what normally takes more than ten years?’.

 “I never have. Why?” Isshin frowns. “He went to karate for years, and we spar at home, but he’s never held a weapon before.”

 “Is that so?” Kisuke cocks his head, his grey eyes narrowing minutely. Never touched a sword? No, that’s impossible. Ichigo moves with grace and holds a weapon with ease that only comes from long years of practice.

 “Why? Kisuke, what’s going on with my son?” Isshin’s voice raises. He slaps his hands on the table, only to retract them with Kisuke gives him a Look.

 Kisuke can only shake his head. “I couldn’t tell you. Your best guess is to ask him, but I know you won't do that.”

 Guilt and discomfort flickers across Isshin's face. He looks down, his fists clenching in his lap.

 “The time isn't right yet.”

 “The time's never going to be right,” It’s something Kisuke has wanted to say for      years    now.  “You'll keep putting it off until eventually, it's too late. I know you.”

 Isshin's jaw sets and he narrows those dark eyes at Kisuke. Anyone else might have at least squirmed. Kisuke doesn’t so much as blink. “That's why I asked you to look out for him.”

 “Have you seen your son lately, Isshin?” He hardly needs anyone to look out for him anymore. Even Kisuke has nothing to teach. All he van do right now, without jeopardizing Ichigo’s trust in him, is keep pushing Ichigo to grow stronger and stronger.

 It occurs to him, briefly, that Ichigo might learn who they are in Seireitei, but that is a bridge Kisuke will cross when they reach it.

 “Don’t talk down to me!” Isshin’s temper finally frays. The fact that it took so little is telling. Isshin is worried about Ichigo. A father who told his son none of what his life may hold is worried now for what will happen to him that life.

 Kisuke wants to laugh in his face.

 Since he doesn’t want to be punched, even by Isshin in a gigai, he snaps his fan out over his smiling mouth.

 “Then step up, Isshin. You’re children are growing. If you’re not careful, your children will leave you behind.”

 He thinks, privately, that Ichigo already has.

 Isshin is silent for a long, terrible minute. Isshin is never silent. He is loud and brash and makes an excellent ‘idiot distraction’. Too good, sometimes, if he really hasn’t noticed any of this.

 Ichigo walks with purpose. With weariness. Kisuke is too familiar with the dark edges of existence not to see the way Ichigo faces windows and door, the way he watches shadows, the way his hand twitches to the right like there’s something or someone there when the air is empty. Kisuke can see the darkness in the back of brown eyes.

 Something happened, and the only time it could have occurred was over the summer.

 What happened, in this Chaldea?

 “...he asked me about Masaki,” Isshin says at last. “He asked me if she was a quincy.”

 “Did you tell him?” As if Kisuke doesn’t already know the answer.

 “No.”

 His voice is quiet.

 “He asked me in front of her grave, and I couldn’t tell him the truth. It’s already too late, Kisuke.”

 “Isshin… You really area fool.”

 Ichigo is gone now. Maybe, for Isshin, forever.

 * * * *

 That night, Ichigo finds himself sitting outside in the grass, rolling stones through his fingers while lightning bugs flicker around him.

 It’s picturesque out here. Almost enough to be the paradise so many people hope for.

 It’s nothing like the long, dark corridors of Kur. It’s nothing like the dead soil and the flickering cages tended to so carefully by Ereshkigal. Ichigo aches with thoughts of what might have happened to her. Where is she, that she allowed her land to fall into such a state of poverty? When had grass started to grow? When had a King taken over the afterlife?

 He has a million questions and not a single answer.

 Ichigo rolls a rock around in his palm. In his other hand he brings up a small knife and cuts into the stone a familiar rune. One line with a single smaller one branching off downwards.

 ‘Torch’.

   He knows mana won’t work here. There is no life for this land of life energy. That was how they’d defeated Tiamat, after all.

 So he must come up with something else.

     Ichigo knows, for Scathach has told him, that most mages have absolutely reiryoku to their name. Once they die they can no longer perform their precious magic, for there is no mana for them to use.

 Ichigo is blessed (or something) with an over abundance of both and a talent only for mana transference.

 It seems to him that the concept can’t be that different.

 So he focuses on the stone in his hand and calls on the energy he can feel humming around him. In the air, the grass, the earth, it makes up everything the same way mana does. He draws it into himself and tries to press into the rock in his hand.  The energy sinks in, slowly at first. It’s like trying to force syrup into a water balloon made of concrete.

  It’s not really working.

  Some instinct hisses in the back of his mind and Ichigo sits straight up, drawing Zangetsu from where he’s sat in the grass beside him. He’s not a second too late, barely blocking a blow that comes from the shadows.

 Ichigo is on his feet in a second.

 He hasn’t survived this long by being stupid, and he’s always trusted his instincts. They’ve never let him die yet.

 They’re far enough away that if he shouts no one will reach him in time to help. Even if he was closer, when he sees the man step out of the trees he knows without a doubt; none of his friends can take this man.

 He’s tall. Silver hair and a curved smile makes him think of a snake. He almost feels like Stheno, enough that it sets Ichigo’s teeth on edge. He remembers clearly her habit of toying with those she likes, embarrassing and driving them to ruin while watching them struggle.

 “You know it’s rude to attack someone when their back is turned?” Ichigo says, tilting his blade and letting the bandages flow off and into the air.

 The mans smile stretches.

 “You have good reflexes for a kid,” he teases, his voice light. Ichigo narrows his eyes. This man is strong. Stronger than Ichigo for certain, but if he’s careful…

 “I’m not a kid. Who are you?”

 “Me? Oh, no one really. I just wanted to see who it was that came to visit today. You’re causing quite the stir, you know.”

 “Oh yeah?” Ichigo narrows his eyes. “Are you here for a fight?”

 The man considers him. He lifts a dagger up, twirling it elegantly. He drops into a hard stands, one leg behind the other, partially bent, his hand with the knife at the back.

 Ichigo gets Zangetsu up without a second to spare, blocking the blade an inch from cutting into his shoulder. It extends and retracts in the time it takes to blink.

 Joy.

 Ichigo isn’t the fastest person, and his sword is big and powerful not small and swift. They’re a bad match up.

 Oh well.

 Ichigo lifts Zangetsu and brings him back down, slicing the air and cleaving the earth. The man, a shinigami with a white coat the flutters around him, dodges to the side with a single step. Ichigo catches a glimpse of his eyes. Quicksilver, it’s gone a second later and replaced by that same smile.

 “If you’re looking for a fight, I won’t back down,” Ichigo warns. Zangetsu hums in his grasp, comforting and familiar. His blood pounds, excitement rushes under his skin.

 “You're an interesting guy,” the stranger muses, “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

 It’s all Ichigo can do not to laugh.

 Ichigo has fought gods and monsters. This is just a man.

 “No way in hell.”

 “What a strange person you are.” He puts his short sword back in it’s sheath and it disappears inside his sleeves. Ichigo doesn’t trust it for a minute. “I have what I need. Bye bye now.”

 He waves and disappears in a blur of speed that makes Ichigo’s stomach twist. If that man wanted him dead, he would probably      be    dead.

 Ichigo is left alone in the dark.

 With nothing else to do, he picks up his rock and tries again.

 He only gets a few more minutes of trying to fill the cement balloon before the door to the main house opens and Orihime comes walking out. She shivers at the chill in the air and looks around until her eyes find his. They’re full of concern and compassion.

 It’s for the best. Ichigo needs to talk to her anyways.

 He waves her over.

 Orihime is someone that Ichigo has known for years, but barely knows at all in the end. He knows how her brother died.

 (He was there when it happened, when they came broken bodied and hearted into the kurosaki clinic. Her hair was short and her eyes were wet and dull with grief. For Ichigo grief was already an old companion. He’d sat at her side while his dad tried to explain what was happening to a child that already knew. He wonders if she remembers. He almost hopes she does.)

 Yet, they’ve never hung out outside of school. She is Tatsuki’s friend, and Tatsuki is Ichigo’s, and so she is in the same orbit as he is but they’ve never really gone off with each other, and rarely had true conversations.

 (He keeps waiting for her to bring up Acidwire/Sora.)

 (she doesn’t)

 She kneels across from him, a bright smile in the dark of night and Ichigo is suddenly very, very glad that she’d not come a few minutes earlier. He’s not sure how well he could have protected her.

 The thought tastes like bile.

 “Kurosaki,” she smiles sweetly at him. “You’ve been out here so long. Aren’t you getting cold?”

 Ichigo tilts his head before he shakes it.

 “No, I’m fine.”

 “O-oh.”

 Orihime is unsure of herself. It seems like she always is, except when she protected them in the Dangai, and when she swore to follow him into battle.

 How does he keep finding these people? These inexplicably loyal beings, with power beyond humans, who follow him into convoluted plots and dangerous schemes? How does he keep tricking people into thinking it’s a good idea?

 Is everyone just stupid?

 “Orihime, listen.”

 She perks up, all of his attention on him. Ichigo doesn’t like saying this, but it’s something he has to. There’s no other option.

 “When we get to the Seireitei, you’re going to be out top supporter. You’re our only healer, and while Uryu and I know basic first aid, it’s different from actually fixing someone. On top of that, you’re our shield. I know you’ve got an attack, but listen. Can you use it?”

 Orihime’s brows furrow. “I can use it. I know how, I’ve been practicing with Tsubaki and Yoruichi for a long time now.”

 “I don’t mean physically,” he corrects. He wants to be gentle, but it’s just not going to work. “I mean, can you actually hurt someone?”

 She freezes.

 “I-”

 “If it comes down to you or them. If it comes down to them or me. Orihime, could you hurt someone? Could you attack with the intent of making sure they don’t get back up?”

 She clasps her hands in her lap. “I-I can-”

 “If you can’t,” he cuts in swiftly. “Say it now. When we fight we need to know you have our backs. Do you understand, Orihime? “

 “Y-yes,” she bows her head. Her hair pins glow faintly in the darkness, distracting from the shadow cast over her eyes.

 * * * * *

 Ichigo eyes the dark waters of the Mississippi warily.

 “This is insane,” he says aloud, “I’ve never seen anything this wide before.”

 He spins and points at Cu. “Don’t say a thing.”

 The caster lifts his hand, looking innocent. “I can’t say wha now?”

 “Fuck you.”

 “Stop being vulgar.”

 Kyo prods Ichigo from the side, garnering his attention. Mash sits at the front of their boat, a flat barge that pushes along valiantly. They’re halfway to the whitehouse now. Halfway to the end of the war, and Ichigo can feel the stress thrum across his skin. He doesn’t know what to do now.  The traveling. The waiting. The intermediate fighting is tiring everyone out, Ichigo included.

 It’s hard to stay on guard 24/7, with anxiety pushing them forwards as much as anything else.

 As much as supporting other people tires him out, staying on his toes constantly is a whole other type of exhausting.

 He trusts his servants to keep him from harm, but they still rely on him to support them, to give them orders, to supply them with information that they need. He stays in the back, he watches and waits, and tells them where best to place their blows. He looks for opening they can’t see from so close up.

 Kyo’s hand lands on his knee. Ichigo stops bouncing it. He hadn’t even realized hed started.

 “Kyo…?” It still feels wrong to voice his true name out loud, even though Kyo has told him a more intimate secret than just his name.

 Kyo turns his dark eyes on Ichigo. There’s a furrow in his brows. He’s just as tired as the rest of them. With the rest of the world collapsing, more and more hollow’s are being pushed into the only place left in the living world. Early on it was just weaklings, but now there are smaller, more humanoid monsters that stalk their steps, waiting to devour the dead they leave in their wake.

 A war is an all you can eat buffet for creatures made of fear, rage, and hunger.

 “Breath, Ichigo,” Kyo nudges him back against the crate they’re rested against, near the edge of t the flat barge.

 “I am breathing,” he grumbles petulantly.

 Kyo barely has enough dignity not to roll his eyes. That’s fine. Ichigo has been wearing him down for months. Kyo wears manners and politeness like armor, and Ichigo has a terrible habit of shattering things like that.

 “You know what I mean. You should reserve yourself for the final fight.”

 “I know. I’m trying.”

 Kyo hums. The moon hangs heavy and full above their heads. Ichigo knows instinctively that neither of them will really sleep, but resting his eyes is better than nothing. With Medusa on watch, no one will sneak up on them.

 It’s only a small comfort.

 A bigger comfort is the shoulder pressed against his, invisible and intangible to everyone but him. Ichigo will not admit it, but it feels sometimes like Kyo is only his. The rest of these heroes are here to save the world, and Kyo is too, but while they all have each other the two of them are the only ones privy to the world of the dead and the skull masked monsters that creep in the shadows.

 Something protective curls in his chest and Ichigo relaxes, leaning half into Kyo’s side. He watches the moon ripples across the water, unattainable and intangible.  

 * * * * * *

[marithlizard]

Thoughts on RBWY v7c8, “Cordially Invited”

Last week felt like being at the top point of the roller coaster.  Now we’re just starting that sick-feeling slide down, knowing the acceleration’s about to kick in. 

- Oscar with the strategic observations! (I've seen a theory that he and Oz have already quietly merged to some extent,  based on this scene and his conversation with James last episode.  Maybe.  But they also had months together 24/7, on the farm and then in Haven; there's been a lot of time for "and here's another thing I wish I'd known when I was your age". Plus it's implied that Oscar has always been well-read and thoughtful. )

- They can't possibly have any doubt that the election was hacked, after the massacre, can they? Apparently they can.  

- James, you are so lucky you have RWBYJNR to do obviously sensible things like 'have Weiss investigate the mansion' and 'give Robyn some evidence that you are not a sinister megalomaniac', because apparently you would never think of them.

- Huh, the outside of Schnee Manor does not look at all like I thought it would.  That's not remotely residential architecture.  Probably the intended effect is "Versailles", but what I see is "major governmental office building".  

- Hovercars!  Also, no dressing up, I see.  Jacques doesn't deserve it anyway.

- I like the way James' expression lightens just a bit when Winter snarks back at him.   We're being given the understated impression all through v7 that the two of them have an excellent working relationship.  She's the Glynda to his Oz. ( @fairy-anon-godmother has pointed out that Lionheart had no support staff at all, in contrast.   How's that for an angstfic idea:  the day Lionheart's second in command realized the truth and made herself walk away from him.)

- The bitterness of Whitley could freeze mercury (no pun intended, but come to think of it the two of them have some similar outlooks).   Called it about Klein.  Hmmm....the manor must have a huge staff, but the heir is on door duty?  I don't think so. He's on “handle your sisters and the General” duty and was watching from the window for their arrival.  And he's actually pretty polished with the refined snark himself.

- Incidentally (sorry my brain is tangenting more than usual),  have we ever seen Weiss be anything warmer than borderline rude to Whitley, under any circumstances?  And he and Winter are completely ignoring each other here.

- Oh, yeah,  Qrow's falling.   At this point I have to hope Fair Game works out for his sake,  even if it's not the ship I favor.   *worried*

- C'mon girls, a moment of support for your uncle who just turned down a drink would be nice.

- Weiss has no counter at all for Whitley's spite here.  She wasn't any good at trading barbs with him in v4, either.   But she was certainly fluent in Bitch when she arrived at Beacon.   She's outgrown that and gotten so used to being among genuine, warm people that she can't and won't play the game with her family anymore.  It showed in her earlier conversations with Winter, too.

- Portrait of Whitley and parents to the right of Jacques, clearly taken after Weiss left for Beacon. And a very crudely thrown gauntlet in the dining arrangements. Subtle this family is not.  

- Ugh, Robyn must've hated coming here with every fiber of her being.  That she did so anyway says a lot about her political moxie.

- Does the council have only three people on it, or are these the only two Jacques could rope into this little power play?

-Oh, Penny.  Ironwood thinks of you as a person...as much as he thinks of any soldier under his command as a person.   But he's not defending you against the people who think your'e a soulless murderbot. He hasn't stood up for you as a person at all, has he, because he doesn't see it as relevant to the current crisis.  This is so cruel.

- (Yet another tangent:  I would love to see a crossover of Penny getting to spend time with Murderbot from the Martha Wells books.   Murderbot would have a lot of opinions on the entire Atlas situation.)

- Nora bouncing like a homicidal chipmunk.  Can I get them, boss? can I can I?

- The faunus waitstaff:  Hm, they're taking entire platters of food out of our hands and clearly planning to do something disruptive. We will inevitably be blamed.  It'll be worth it.

- Young padawan,  you are still new to the dark ways of the Schnee, to slink off in defeat so easily.

-Ugh. Things I really, really, really hate:  when Jacques Schnee is right.  The "whole "protection against war" line of rhetoric makes absolutely no sense if you don't know about Salem;  right in the first ever episode of RWBY, Glynda tells us the world is glowing with peace and prosperity since the end of the Great War.   And the more James talks about possible unknown hostile forces, the more he sounds like a power-crazed frootloop.

- Declaring everything classified even from your supposed peers in the council doesn't help.

- Ironwood's face as Winter explodes:  oh crap.

- Robyn's face at the same moment:  oh interesting.  Thanks to Blake and Yang she knows what the Amity project is, though not why it's being kept secret.  She knows Blake believes James has good intentions. And the sincerity wafting off Winter Schnee is palpable.  

- Jacques' face at the same moment:  oh checkmate. 

- Winter: It'd be better if I could act more like a soulless robot.   Penny: There are so many things wrong with that,  I can't even.  Execute "conversation_nope.pny".

- "Your party".  "You...left."  Willow is so out of it she's not even tracking major events?  That's kind of scary. And not new, from Weiss' reaction.

- Willow: "I am doing something about it.  Inverting this bottle."

- All the Schnees have excellent tailoring. I love the aesthetic.  

- In case you ever needed to what, Willow?  How long has she had those cameras up, and what contingencies is she planning for?  I hope she's better at protecting her personal staff than Weiss was with Klein.

- "A man came by".  She recognized Watts, but doesn't want to name him directly to Weiss. And then gives her the phone knowing it'll all come out.  Probability of Watts-Jacques family relationship increasing.

- She's not expecting to survive whatever is coming down.

- We were cued to expect the heating grid hack last episode, but that made it no less chilling to watch.  (yeah, yeah, but no other adjective fits so well.)  AUGH.  

- Almost forgot!  I don’t think it was prudent to bring Oscar to this,  even though I was whining for more screen time for him earlier.  Since Haven they have to assume  the enemy has been briefed about him.   Kidnapping Oz as a personally giftwrapped present for Salem would make Tyrian ecstatic. 

[ndveggies]

The Hypothesis Progression Framework and the Customer-Driven Cadence

In the summer of 2000, General Motors, an American car manufacturer, introduced the Pontiac Aztek, a radically new “crossover” vehicle — part sedan, part minivan, and part sports utility vehicle. It was marketed as the do-it-all vehicle for 30-somethings. It was the car for people who enjoyed the outdoors, people with an “active lifestyle” and “none to one child.”

On paper, the Aztek appeared to be fully featured. It had a myriad of upgrades that included options for bike racks, a tent with an inflatable mattress, and an onboard air compressor. GM even included an option for an insulated cooler, to store beverages and cold items, between the passenger and driver seat. Their ideal customer was someone who would use the Aztek for everything from picking up groceries to camping out in the wilderness.

The Aztek had a polarizing visual aesthetic; many either loved or hated it (most hated it). Critics found its features, like the optional tent and cooler, awkward and downright gimmicky. GM insisted these were revolutionary ideas and suggested that they were ahead of their time. They believed that, once customers took the Aztek for a test drive, they would quickly realize just what they were missing.

After a $30 million marketing push, it appeared that the critics were right. The Aztek failed to make even a modest dent in the overall market. The year that the Aztek was released, the American auto industry had sold 17.4 million vehicles. The Aztek represented only 11,000 of those vehicles (a number that some believed was still generously padded).

To customers, the Aztek seemed to get in its own way. It was pushing an agenda by trying to convince customers how they should use their vehicles, rather than responding to how they wanted to use them.

It’s easy to point at this example in hindsight and ask, “How could GM spend so much time, money, and resources only to produce a car no one wanted?” Some suggested it was because the car was “designed by committee” or that it was a good idea with poor execution. Insiders blamed the “penny-pinchers” for insisting on cost-saving measures that ultimately produced a hampered product that wasn’t at all consistent with the original vision.

The lead designer of the Aztek, Tom Peters, went on to create many successful designs, like the C6 Chevy Corvette and 2014 Camaro Z/28, and eventually won a lifetime achievement award. He suggested that the poor design of the Aztek had started with the team asking themselves, “What would happen if we put a Camaro and an S10 truck in a blender?”

The reality is that it was all of these reasons. Even though it appeared, at the time, that GM was “being innovative,” they had forgotten the most crucial element: the customer. They had fallen in love with a concept and tried to find a customer who would want it.

They were running focus groups and also doing their own market research. They probably even created personas or some variant of the “ideal customer” that was perfect for the Aztek. GM believed they were being customer-focused. Yet they weren’t paying attention to the right signals. They had respondents in focus groups saying, “Can they possibly be serious with this thing? I wouldn’t take it as a gift!”

While we can commend GM for trying to push the boundaries of the auto industry, we must admit that by not validating their assumptions and listening to their customers, they had created a solution in search of a problem.

We make assumptions about everything. It’s a way for us to make meaning of what we understand based on our prior beliefs. However, our assumptions aren’t always grounded in fact. They may come from “tribal knowledge,” experience, or conventional wisdom. These sources start with a kernel of truth, which makes them feel real, but too often we mistake assumptions for facts.

This is not to say that assumptions are a bad thing. They can be incredibly useful in tapping into our intuition. It’s when our assumptions go unchecked that we open ourselves to vulnerabilities in our design.

Unchecked assumptions can have a powerfully negative effect on our products, because they cause us to:

Miss new opportunities or emerging market trends

Make costly engineering mistakes by creating products that nobody will use

Create technical debt by supporting features that customers aren’t using

Respond to problems too late

What’s most dangerous about unchecked assumptions is that they become conventional wisdom and are carried so long that they create a false sense of security. Then a competitor swoops in with a better understanding of the customer and quickly takes over the entire market.

Henry Petroski, a professor at Duke University and expert in failure analysis, once said, “All conventional wisdom has an element of truth to it, but good design requires more than an element of truth — it requires an ensemble of correct assumptions and valid calculations.”

Therefore, it introduces a high level of risk if teams move forward with underlying assumptions that haven’t been formulated, tested, and validated.

What Is the Hypothesis Progression Framework?

The Hypothesis Progression Framework (HPF) allows you to test your assumptions at any stage of the development process. At its heart, the HPF breaks up the development of products into four stages: Customer, Problem, Concept, and Feature.

Using the HPF, your team will:

Formulate your assumptions into testable hypotheses

Validate or invalidate your hypotheses by running experiments

Make sense of what you’ve learned so that you can plan your next move

As the name suggests, the HPF is founded on the principle that if you state your assumptions as hypotheses and try to validate them, you will remain objective and focused on what the customer is telling you rather than supporting unconfirmed assumptions.

For now, understand that each stage in the HPF works together to address these fundamental questions

Who are your customers?

When we sit down with teams, we will often hear something to the effect of, “Oh, we know who our customers are. That’s not our problem.” Then we’ll ask questions like:

What environments do your customers live/work in?

Why do they choose your product over that of your competitors?

What are they trying to achieve with your products?

What unique attributes make your customers different from one another?

You may (or may not) be surprised how many teams have difficulty answering these types of questions.

Customer engagement is not customer development. It’s one thing to engage customers by having an ongoing dialog using social media networks, support forums, and the like. That’s great. However, it’s another thing entirely to systematically learn from your customers and generate actionable insights.

Your customers are not in a fixed position. Their values and tastes change over time. Therefore, you must be willing to journey with them and continually refine your products to remain one step ahead of where they plan to go.

What problems do they have?

At times, we get so enamored and focused on our solution that we need to step back and ask ourselves, “How many people are really experiencing this problem?” or “How much of a frustration is this problem for our customers?” If GM had been willing to ask their customers, “How valuable is it to have your car convert into a tent?” they would have learned that the tent was not solving a necessary problem for most of their customers. We must appreciate that, to create successful products, it’s more than solving a problem — it’s a matter of solving the right problem. The problems can also be identified through social media strategy template.

Will this concept solve their problem and do they find it valuable?

There are many ways to solve a problem, but how can you be confident you’re solving it the right way? Are you sure that customers value the way you’re trying to solve the problem, or are you introducing new problems you hadn’t considered? During the Concept stage, you’re trying to ensure that you’re solving the customer’s problem in a way they find valuable. You want to leverage your customers’ feedback and continually validate that your ideas are on the right track. You’ll establish the benefits of your concept (as well as its limitations) and increase your confidence that you’re building something customers want. Can they successfully use this feature and are they satisfied with it?

We’ve all been excited for a product release only to be disappointed later because it didn’t deliver on its promises. Throughout the design and development process, you must ensure that your concept works as expected and is successful in helping customers solve their problems. While the Concept stage is to ensure you are building the right thing, the Feature stage ensures you are building it the right way.

By using the HPF as a guide, your team will remain customer-focused as it progresses through customer and product development. Together, these stages represent your entire solution. It’s important to note that the HPF doesn’t necessarily need be worked from left to right; it can be started at any stage. Depending on where you are in your product’s development, you may decide to start at the Concept stage or Problem stage. However, you may start at a later stage in the HPF only to discover that you need to answer fundamental questions in the earlier stages. We’ve had teams come to us, ready to conduct usability testing on a feature, only to realize they didn’t truly understand the customer or problem. That’s what makes the HPF so profound: it allows teams to easily understand the stages that need to be validated to ship a successful product.

As we’ve discussed, your customers’ needs evolve over time, and you must be willing to revisit your assumptions about your solution to ensure that it’s meeting the right customer, solving the right problems, creating value, and making your customers successful.

The Customer-Driven Cadence

To remain Lean and customer-focused, teams must operate in a pattern of continuous learning and collaboration. The HPF has been designed to be used in parallel with your product development sprints or schedules. In short, you should be using the HPF while you’re building and refining your products.

We’ve found tremendous success with this approach and have refined it to align more closely with our framework and activities. The Customer-Driven Cadence has three fundamental actions that you’ll employ during each stage of the HPF: Formulating, Experimenting, and Sensemaking. Let’s look at each of these individually:

Formulating (a.k.a. Build)

Throughout the entire customer-driven process, from customer to product development, you’ll be formulating your assumptions, ideas, and hypotheses. This is an important practice because you will need to track the team’s learning along the way. Ries refers to these key decision points as moments where a team needs to “pivot” (change direction) or “persevere” (continue the course). By continually formulating your assumptions and stating them as hypotheses, your team will create a structure that allows you to easily track your assumptions about the customer, their problems, and your ideas of how to respond to those problems. Finally, you’ll need to formulate a Discussion Guide. The Discussion Guide is the set of questions you’ll ask customers in order to prove/disprove your assumptions.

Experimenting (a.k.a. Measure)

Each stage of the HPF has activities where you need to test whether your assumptions were correct. By continually running experiments against your hypotheses, you’ll have the data you need to decide whether to pivot or persevere with your product’s direction. While there are many methods you can employ to test your hypotheses, we heavily emphasizes talking directly with customers.

Sensemaking (a.k.a. Learn)

The customer-driven approach relies on your ability to continually collect and make sense out of customer data. So often, teams fall into a cycle of “build, measure, build, measure, build, measure” and miss the overall learning or broad understanding of their customer.

This is an excerpt form the digital media strategy blog