Tier up to get in the Espada

Beroli'm was beside himself in rage, on a rampage through the desert. Hollows of every kind, ranging from the most basic of Menos up to the weaker range of Vasto Lorde, were killed and devoured. With every fatal blow dealt to each Hollow, he kept saying one thing, and it echoed in the souls of those he killed: "I must get stronger." He ate them, chanting this ominous mantra before every bite. His knuckles were white with each kill. His clothes and hair became saturated with the blood of the dead. His rage increases and his bloodlust got more and more intense. His mantra became a battle cry. "I MUST GET STRONGER," he said with every slash. "I MUST GET STRONGER. I MUST GET STRONGER!" His mind began to waver, his sanity began to crack, but with a person with the intense hatred that fuels him, Beroli'm having sanity is definitely a joke. His eyes glowed brighter than they have ever been. Lopping off the head of a massive Gillian that wore a different mask, clearly marking it for possibly evolving into an Adjuchas. Beroli'm catches the head in his mouth and curls his body around it, eating it like a starved animal.

The lust for power was turning Beroli'm into a feral beast, sending him to the depths and the darkness of the Menos Forest. His hair was starting to stand on end as the blood began to act like hair gel. His teeth got longer and sharper. His hands, though gloved, became like claws. It was as if he was beginning to regress into an Adjuchas, his appetite insatiable and his body starving for energy. He devours the head of the Gillian in record time, leaping upon and feasting on its withering corpse before any other creatures got to it. He was savage, ravaging the black body as he tears chunk after chunk of flesh, slurping it down with audible gulps. His sword glowed black like a negative beacon, sucking light energy from everything it could. All that could be heard was the chomping, the slurping, the snarling, the savouring. There was, though it seemed like there was, very little humanity and sentience left in Beroli'm at the present moment.

A large arrancar who wore a long cloak of wolf skin was slowly crossing through the desert. He was traveling towards a massive collection of hollow energies, curious of what was occuring in his desert. He subdued his powere down to about half, unable to get it any lower than that. It was still a considerably huge amount, but shouldn't cause anyone to pass out by being near him. The Viking arrancar stopped at the edge of a field of blood that was littered with decaying body parts of lesser hollow. He spotted the arrancar who had caused the scene, a blood covered beast who was busy devouring the last of a large Gilian.

The blood bath this arrancar had caused ammused Arngrim. That such a lowly specamin could cause so much mayhem impressed him, and he seemed to be going to great lenghts to improve his powers. Arngrim stood and watched, waiting for the Arrancar to finish eating before speaking in a gravelly voice. "Impressive work, for a worm. Why don't you try take a bite out of something stronger than that shit. You might get your wish, or I might just kill you for fun."

((First thing I thought when I see your intro, Zenke: "Nice entrance there, buddy!" The second thing I thought when I see your intro, Zenke: "Oh shit he's using Arngrim, his damn 0!"))

As soon as Beroli'm heard footsteps moving through the forest, he turned his head quickly, a mouthful of Gillian, one of the final mouthfuls of Gillian, looking to the source of the footsteps. In his feral mindset, he barely recognized who it was approaching his location, nor did he care. He returned to his meal. However, he would leave the massive energy of his next opponent until now, the moment he finishes the last of the Gillian. "Cero Espada, Arngrim Wolfcloak," Beroli'm says, standing up slowly. "I didn't think I'd see the day that you would waste your precious time with me." He smiles, fangs dripping blood; his tongue licks up the drool that leaks from the jowls of his own mouth. He draws his heavy black blade from his back, pointing "You came here for more than just throwing me to the proverbial wolves, didn't you, Arngrim?"

With no more said than that, Beroli'm charges at Arngrim, his smile affixed on his face as if chiselled into marble. "I'll show you what a worm is!" Beroli'm roars with a blood-lustful fervour and glee. He swings his sword with a controlled insanity, his arm bending and flexing in unnatural angles and positions, taking advantage of his regenerative abilities. His elbow and shoulder pop as the joints dislocate, only to be forced back with the whip-cracking motion of his arm. After maybe 50 strikes, whether they are hits or misses (probably hits, given Arngrim's massive strength and defence), Beroli'm begins to dig through Arngrim's psyche for his fears. The form of a savage wolf takes form at first, but it is a disguise; Beroli'm cackles gaily (happily to those reading this who want to be ignorant) as Arngrim's own father's face emerges from the wolf's mouth. From out of his father's mouth, a black Cero, Beroli'm's usual technique, is fired from the man's mouth. Beroli'm crosses his arms with a wild smile, his hair flowing in the wind generated from the technique, the image of Arngrim's father following Beroli'm's actions.

Beroli'm couldn't imagine the wrath Arngrim would feel because of Beroli'm's ability to probe the mind of his opponent for the sake of finding his deepest-seated fear. When he came across the issues brought on by his father, why not call upon his very soul to haunt and to break the greatest of Espada? "Come now, son," Arngrim's father says through the aura. "A worm didn't just crush you, did he?"

(Lol. I didn't have a choice, he's the only arrancar i have who can stand up to baroli'm. Unless you wanted to fight a full vizard form Ashen.)

The creature spoke, using Arngrims title. Now that was odd, he hadn't expected a worm to know him. Well, maybe he should have, thats what comes with being king of hueco mundo. "I came here to find out what was causing trouble in my forest. But it seems I've found something of use, too." The worm rushed Arngrim, drawing his massive two handed sword as he began to slash violently at Arngrim. Arngrim drew his longsword and casually parried anything that got to close to his face because he liked having eyes, but otherwise let the worm beat away at his Hierro.

When the arrancar finally began to tire, Arngrim lowered his weapon. "Is that it?." A black wolf welled up around his foe, and then his fathers face appeared in place of the wolfs. At first Argnrim was taken aback by this, but then his anger started to rise. The worm fired a cero and Arngrim slapped it aside into a tree. He took a step forward as his 'Father' spoke. He walked towards the worm. "No, but a worm crushed you, long ago." He turned the blade flat and slammed it into the arrancar who somehow ressurected his fathers ghost.

hit or miss he would fire a cero, although he didn't fully charge it so it was about the strength of a 1-2's standard cero. If he missed with his first blow then he would be firing it point blank unless the arrancar tried to run, otherwise he'd aim for the general area of the arrancar. He didn't want to kill him because he'd shown he might be useful, but things could change.

(you can go ress any time, I wont because its already pushing it.)

Beroli'm was quick to lower his sword, blocking the blow. However, Arngrim's strength was enough to throw Beroli'm out of the aura, causing the image of Arngrim's father to disappear. Beroli'm slams into a tree, falling flat on the ground. He slowly starts to move back to his feet, sensing the energy buildup of a Cero. This causes Beroli'm to rush to his feet and dive to the side, rolling away as he just manages to dodge the Cero. He gets up in time to see a few trees, as well as a few Gillian being erased by the negative energy. He was now shrouded by the darkness of the forest, watching Arngrim closely.

He was strong. He had every right to be strong. He is the master of his domain, the strongest Espada. Maybe that was why Arngrim was attacking him. Beroli'm smirks with intent, the shine of his white teeth and the fiery glow of his eyes giving away his position. "Destroy the world," Beroli'm says, his voice echoing through the forest. Red rain begins to drip through the leaves of the trees above. Arngrim can inspect the liquid raining down to see it is blood. "Anaquilador." There is a small explosion heard in the distance, and, replacing the red glow of his eyes, there is now a blue glow from a taller figure.

With the exact same speed as before, Beroli'm, now covered head to toe in armor, charges at Arngrim. Swinging a larger and heavier single-edged sword, a trail of blue haze follows in his wake, killing and withering some of the youngest trees. He swings the massive blade like before, but with more control and more focus. Whether or not they are blocked or parried or anything, Beroli'm swings and cuts and slashes and pushes. The weight of the sword would be noticed by Arngrim, even in the slightest given his ability and power. With an uppercut slash to finish the set, he turns his head momentarily and turns back to Arngrim, black energy being fired from his visor. "Cero Ojos," he says, his voice sounding like that of a masked Vizard. The energy beams hit like a Cero, moving almost as fast as a Bala. After his last attack, Beroli'm takes two steps back and takes a defensive posture.

The hit sent the the worm sprawling into a tree, although he managed to block the blow. He dived to the side of the cero that tore unchecked trough the forest. The worm vanished into the woods but arngrim stayed put. He raised his arms to the side and said, "Don't run away, I was starting to have fun." It began to rain, which was odd because it never rained in hueco mundo. But as a drop landed on his hand Arngrim seen that it was red. He licked it, and smirked.

A larger, heavily armored Worm burst from the trees. The greatsword in his hand who's matched Arngrims longsword in ressurection. It was a beautiful weapon, large and sharp and shining, a weapon meant to tear and break and destroy a foe in battle. "So you have Ressurection, I guess your more than a worm." Arngrim said blocking the first blow, noticing the weight behind that sword. That was a good sign, if it couldn't cut, it could atleast bruise. Maybe not bruise Arngrim, but with every blow that he blocked or let hit, he felt more and more like this Arrancar would be of use to him.

On the upper cut Arngrim slammed his own blade down to stop it before it landed, and would probably drive the blade down into the ground if it didn't knock it from Beroli'm grip. The creature Looked him in the eye and a powerful beam shot from them. Arngrim blocked it with an extended hand, the power of this odd cero washing over his hand and down, dispersing into nothing. That was an interesting cero, If the creature survived, Angrim would demand he teach it to him.

Arngrim closed the distance and looked at that armor. That was interesting, he wondered if he could crack it with a punch. He tried, aiming for the center of the chest, then slashed with his sword across the chest with as little force as possible, but still quite fast. Then he shot a bala at him, and waited.

Beroli'm knew that the power of the Cero Ojos would not be enough. As Arngrim merely extends his hand to let the attack filter through, Beroli'm waited as he swiftly comes up close. The punch Arngrim threw was easily blocked, so to speak, as Beroli'm throws a left jab to counter it; the force of Arngrim's fist sends a violent shockwave through Beroli'm's musculature, as the smaller and weaker bones crumble into a fine powder; the armor stay intact. Beroli'm cries out in pain as he allows himself to be thrown into an aerial corkscrew from the force of Arngrim's massive fist. Beroli'm could sense Arngrim's next attack and, utilizing the force of his rotation, he throws his sword (not literally) into the oncoming slash. Gripping it tightly, his sword clashes with Arngrim's, and, for a split second, their eyes meet as warriors gripped in mortal combat. However, that split second ends as Beroli'm is thrown by the force of the blow. He and his sword go flying in the same direction. Using the strength of his Pesquisa, seconds before Arngrim fully fires his Bala (since he has already committed his aim to where Beroli'm is where he sees him), Beroli'm uses his sonido and slips away from the Bala as it is fired. Beroli'm reappears and stands, face to face, with Arngrim.

"As much as it could help me," he says, holding his sword out with his good hand, "I will not expose your back unless we are too close to help it. This is out of respect for what you are, not who you are." Beroli'm slowly begins to move his left arm, as bone and sinew begin to regenerate and repair. He turns to fully face Arngrim, his left hand gently gripping the bottom of the hilt. He starts running at Arngrim, extending his mostly-healed left hand towards him, firing a black Cero. There is no doubt that Arngrim is prepared to block it: perfect. Beroli'm slips into his own beam and, with the steel of his armor glowing a bright red from the heat, he charges at full speed into Arngrim, in full control of his left arm. It is still tender, as every swing causes Beroli'm a twinge of pain up the damaged nerves of his left arm. He doesn't allow it to consume his attacks, but he starts to weaken slowly, as a result of using as much energy as he could spare to attack the Cero Espada.

Beroli'm, as the Cero dissipates around him and Arngrim, kicks off the beastly man's chest, using Arngrim's own strength to kick off and move away. Knowing that the space between them could be closed within a short time, Beroli'm moves to as close to a defensive position as he can while mid-air. All the while, Beroli'm's arm continues to recover. By the next turn of events, it should be back at 100%.

The weak arrancar punched at his fist causing arngrim to laugh as the man let out a cry of pain and was sent flying backwards. "You've got less brains than a sea sponge, boy." Arngrim said as he fired the bala, which the man dodged. Not bad. The guy took a couple of seconds to recover then he charged in again, firing a cero and diving into its path for thor knows what reason. He charged into Arngrim and started attacking wildly.

Arngrim was starting to grow board of blocking the attacks. A few hits landed but the sword barely scratched him. The guy seemed to be stuck in one set attack. Not that he wouldn't be useful. that Heirro was tough, if he were stronger he'd make a good distraction for enemy fire or even a good tank. Atleast that notion held some promise. The arrancar jumped and tried kicking off arngrim's chest, which he succeeded in doing. The Cero espada grabbed his foot as he toppled back a little and spun, launching his foe into a tree.

He followed this up with a barrage of bala, shooting at where he would be as he either caught himself in the air and ran, or fell towards the ground. Arngrim stopped firing bala if he hit, or baroli'm rushed towards him. In anticipation a single ball of fire started to charge in the air over the cero espada. he was capable of firing 6 at once but that would be a bit much. As baroli'm would reach him he launched it at the ground between them, sending out the force of half his cero and spashing fire that would burn baroli'm for a post if hit.

Beroli'm held on tightly as he was thrown aside. He was quickly able to right himself, landing feet first against the first tree. He could feel his strength increasing, growing, feeling right. However, he wasn't stupid, but then he got to thinking; it was time to show off his defensive abilities. He crosses his arms in front of him, shifting his large one-handed blade to a backhand grip. He takes each Bala and stands firm, staying upright as he is pushed through tree after tree. After the barrage ceases, Beroli'm lowers his arms. His armor is chipped away, most of the smaller pieces of metal flung away; half of his helm is blown away, leaving one eye glowing blue behind the visor as the other glows red. He looks to see the ball of fiery energy growing and glowing over Arngrim's head. "This should get interesting," Beroli'm says, sweat dripping from his forehead and his Hierro slowly patching over the scorches that the Balas' energy caused.

Slowly crouching down on the tree he is standing on, Beroli'm suddenly explodes forward, his body now becoming a missile squarely aimed at Arngrim. He pushes his sword out in front of him, adding another dimension of aerodynamic acceleration. With a final push using his reiatsu, Beroli'm breaks the sound barrier as he starts spinning wildly in a corkscrew, turning him effectively into a drill. The speed is enough even to take Arngrim by surprise, but would it have enough power to cut through his Hierro?

Beroli'm bears down and gives what remaining energy he can spare. With that, the armor begins to pull away from his body, whether from the lack of energy Beroli'm has left or from Arngrim using his fireballs in an attempt to counter Beroli'm's charge. If it makes contact with Arngrim's body, the force should be enough to knock him off-balance, if not cut him. If Beroli'm is blocked by Arngrim's sword, the blow should knock him back slightly. If Arngrim dodges the attack, Beroli'm will hit the ground and use sonido to get back to his feet, leaning against a tree, holding on tightly to his sword, as it slowly reverts to its original form; he will be leaning against the tree either way. Beroli'm's chest heaves as he struggles to breathe, watching Arngrim closely.

Arngrim sighed as the guy landed against the tree and pushed off. He launched himself with enough force that his armor started to peal off. Arngrim fired the ball of energy that missed and exploded, setting a portion of the forest on fire. Inacurate things, those fire cero. Baroli'm was now spining towards him with enough force that if his attack landed it might do some damage. So arngrim braced himself, as the sword came in, hit off his sholder, cut through the pauldron and left a scratch on his heirro. It didn't send him reeling because he'd been ready for it.

Arngrim drove a fist up and pushed baroli'm over him. The arrancar staggered then leaned against the tree, his sword reverting to an original form. Arngrim laughed. "Thats the best you've got? Well I have to hand it to you, only weakest of espada up can scratch my heirro, so your not that much of a worm. " Arngrim sheath his sword and pulled the broken pauldron from his cloak. He looked at it, then crushed the metal in his hand and tossed it into the forest.

"So your strong, not as strong as I'd like but you'll do. But can you follow an order? Can you control yourself? I need warriors, yes, but i need loyal ones. So give me one reason why i shouldn't go ahead and kill you, a reason to instead take you into the espada." Arngrim said gruffly. He wasn't much of a word smith, but he did get his point across. Only the strongest could lead, and he was the strongest. Everyone else must either be loyal, or die.

((Not much of a wordsmith is right ))

Beroli'm smirked. "In the history of the Espada," he starts, his voice sounding breathless, "they would act independently, unless called together for the purposes of war. I have been Helba's Fraccion until her death, and now I am here, proving myself to the Cero that I have what it takes to be an Espada." Beroli'm extends his left hand as he stands straight up, his palm cupping an orb of pure black energy; it pulses and radiates great energy as he glares at Arngrim. "This darkest of energies is bred in my body alone," he says, "and, if it must, it will serve the greater good of Hueco Mundo and Las Noches."

Beroli'm's words were uncommon to him. He knew no other leader than his aunt, who is now dead. He didn't have to worry about anything, but now he was alone. Only his ambition would push him beyond the limits of his present state. Only his need for power sated what sanity remained. He could feel his power rising, the black orb emitting more power as Beroli'm felt himself become stronger, more menacing. If he had the power, he would still take the time to depose this man and take his crown. However, until that time, he would play his cards wisely, allow his strength to grow and allow his ambition to burn brighter and hotter.

"I will be honest with you, Arngrim," he says, closing his hand around the ball of energy, "if you are found lacking or weak at any time, I will be the first one to take you down and usurp your position. I will be the next Cero and I will prove myself among these cretins that I am the true power that will rule the world. Hell, I might even try to usurp the position of Soul King and force the world into great chaos..." Beroli'm could help but to smile at this idea.

Arngrim listened to the mans repsonse, then nodded gruffly. "You can try, but i warn you if you fail to win, you die. So until the day you think you are strong enough to match me, you best stay loyal. Or i will crush you. Now, I have a war to start, so get yourself back to Los noches. I'll call for you in a few days. " Arngrim turned and walked away leaving Baroli'm to his own devices. War was about to come to the humans, and Arngrim's espada would be leading the charge.

(you earn 1-4, although i really think we should have made this longer. How and ever there's not much a 2-1 could do against a 0.)