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ajremixTitle changed because I just remembered that, while I was planning on doing five quotes, I was only able to do four. And was dumb enough to not remember until this morning.
Title: Four Moments of Insight ~Madarame Ikkaku~
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6806
Characters: Ikkaku
In Response to: Ikkaku app for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
standinheaven
Summary: Because it’s been such a long time since I’ve tried my hand at shinigami!Ikkaku so I decided to do a series of drabbles to get back in the swing of it. I sent the last one off in my application.
"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."
-Confucius
Kinda oddly peaceful lyin’ here like this.
Ikkaku gave a huffing kind of sigh. He tried to reach up to scratch his jaw, winced, and reached over with his left to do the job.
It’s one of those kinda days ya never notice unless ya take the time to, he mused, and when ya do it’s pretty damned nice. One of the kind that makes ya think.
And Ikkaku found himself thinking on the fight- the one that just ended and the one that still echoed in the back of his mind.
Live.
That’s twice now Ikkaku’s been beaten in his life.
Live and get stronger.
He wondered what that said about him. Twice beaten, twice alive.
Get stronger and find the one that left you alive.
At this rate, he thought ruefully, he wondered if he was ever going to die fighting.
Find him and take your revenge.
Zaraki’s hit his limit, Ikkaku knew, without anyone to push himself against.
Live
Ichigo’s only going to get stronger.
Become stronger
A shiver of excitement ran down Ikkaku’s spine.
Find him
He heard shouting in the distance, getting closer, and Ikkaku struggled to prop himself up against the rubble of the wall, shouting for them to hurry their asses up.
Fight once more
He needed to hurry up and heal. Because if he ever wanted to fight Ichigo again, first he’d have to save his ass.
"First principle: one must need strength, otherwise one will never have it."
-Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, 1899
The draconian face leered at him. “What’s the point of this?” The oni slurred, its wrinkled and floppy face lined in blood-red and black swirls. “Why do you keep trying so hard?”
Ikkaku was unsteady on his feet, barely able to stand upright. “’cuz I haveta.” He slurred right back, the taste of blood dribbling in his mouth and broken teeth shifting as he worked his jaw.
“Why?” It asked again, long, crooked nails like chipped razors tapping against the pipe it slides between thick yellow fangs.
“I don’t gotta tell ya.”
“Of course not.” It snorted as wisps of smoke flowed from its bulbous nostrils. “But if you don’t tell your partner what’s going on, you can’t utilize your skills fully.”
A blot of blood and spittle was dashed across the ground. “A good partner,” Ikkaku snarled, “knows what’s goin’ on in the other guy’s head.”
“And if a good partner doesn’t, they ask.”
For a long moment Ikkaku merely answered with rasping pants. Then, a badly shaking hand reaching back to wipe the blood flow from his temple, he sighed. “I need this. No one else in the division has a bankai- Captain don’t even know his zanpakutou’s name. I don’t achieve bankai, we’ll be the only division without one.”
A thick brow-ridge raised. “And you think that will make the division fall behind.”
“No.”
“You want to kill Zaraki with this bankai and take over as captain?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because…” because it would fill the gap that’s unspoken but there. Because even if Zaraki-taichou wouldn’t want interfering, Ikkaku would have his back against any opponent. Because there were others out there still so much stronger than he was. Because if he didn’t, it would be like failing those that trusted him. “It’s important.”
With a hiss, the oni sucked in smoke from the pipe and let it float out of gummy lips. It emptied the contents out on the ground with a few clicks of it’s nail, tucked it in the belt of its torn obi and stood at full height, nearly a quarter against Ikkaku’s height.
“Well, if that’s how it is.”
Ikkaku’s eyes narrowed and he forced his protesting, unwilling body into a fighting stance. “Yeah. It is.”
A grin like broken ivory spread across the demon’s face. “Good.”
"I am certainly not one of those who need to be prodded. In fact, if anything, I am the prod."
-Sir Winston Churchill
“Please, calm down! We’re only trying to help you!”
“No! Keep away from me with that thing, you sadistic little bastards!”
The other members of the 11th division groaned loudly. Naoya was a greenie in their ranks and had just come back from his first wide patrol in the Seireitei, where the four-man patrol came across some rouge Hollows. For a new kid, Naoya was pretty handy in a fight, more agile than strong, and he attacked the Hollows’ blind spots when they were distracted by the larger, more powerful shinigami in the patrol.
Except for the one with the spiked tentacles who lashed down the length of his arm.
And, while Naoya was fearless in battle, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to let the healers in the 4th put the salve on his arm.
“C’mon, kid!” One of the others in his patrol said. “It ain’t that bad!”
“Yeah! Just get it slapped on an’ lets get the hell outta here!”
“But it’ll sting!” Naoya wailed. The other two winced, grumbling at the image the kid was giving their division. “It’ll sting and hurt!”
The leader of the patrol, finally tired of all the bawling, strode swiftly to the cowering shinigami and the 4th division member that was trying to take care of him. At the dark look on his face, the others cowered. He pushed up the wide sleeves on his right arm, picked up a scalpel from the table and tore a wound down his forearm.
Everyone in the room gaped.
Ignoring their shock, he stuck three fingers in the jar of salve and slathered it across the flowing wound- quick, simple, efficient. Sticking the dressed wound under Naoya’s nose, he growled, “Easy as fuckin’ that, so quit bein’ a damned pussy. Get patched an’ get out- ya still got duties ta do. An’ if hear ya bitch one more time I’ll give ya fuckin’ pain, got it?”
With a final, parting snarl, the third seat stalk out of the division, grouching about how pansy-assed rookies needed to grow set of balls before he killed them all. Silence reigned as the others in the room continued to gape at the exit.
“Madarame-san,” Naoya said quietly with wide, wide eyes, “is so fucking bad ass.”
“I'm a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.”
-Thomas Jefferson
Ikkaku lived to fight. Anything to make the battle more entertaining, more challenging, more fun, he’d do it. It started out as letting them in the first attack, maybe the first hit if he were that in need of a harder battle. Then, when that started getting boring, he figured he’d start fighting right-handed. THAT proved difficult at first, and when the tide was going too far against him, he’d switch back to his left and slaughter his opponent like a broken horse. Annoyed at the severe difference in levels between his hands (because fighting right-handed made wimps seem like a fair match), Ikkaku eventually dropped that idea.
Until he was dealt his first loss and was told to keep living and take revenge for his defeat. So beaten and bloodied, Ikkaku could barely hold his sword in his left hand, let alone swing it. And, though he never doubted Yumichika’s fighting ability, Ikkaku would be damned if he sat out of a battle. Though still depressingly weak fighting right handed and still not recovered from his last fight, Ikkaku pushed violently through each fight, determined to get better and stronger. Eventually, once he was back at full health, Ikkaku was pleased to discover his skill with his right hand improved greatly and began training to fight ambidextrously.
Except that when it got to the point that he could defeat anyone easily with either hand, things started to get boring again. What was the point in achieving a state few others had if he couldn’t show it off? Gripped with annoyance and boredom, Ikkaku eventually came up with the idea to fight with both sword and sheath. He could never stop being amused at the stunned look on his opponent’s face when they realized they were fighting against a sheath and, during the course of the battle, would switch sword and sheath between hands, just for a little variety and to see how adaptable his opponent truly was.
Since entering the Gotei-13 with his unusual and unpredictable style, Ikkaku couldn’t help but gloat- too many of those losers were so fucking full of themselves; he was more than happy to put them in their place. And, just to make his victories even sweeter, he started up the luck-luck dance. Because, even if he did believe in luck, he worked damned hard to get it.
Title: Four Moments of Insight ~Madarame Ikkaku~
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6806
Characters: Ikkaku
In Response to: Ikkaku app for
standinheavenSummary: Because it’s been such a long time since I’ve tried my hand at shinigami!Ikkaku so I decided to do a series of drabbles to get back in the swing of it. I sent the last one off in my application.
-Confucius
Kinda oddly peaceful lyin’ here like this.
Ikkaku gave a huffing kind of sigh. He tried to reach up to scratch his jaw, winced, and reached over with his left to do the job.
It’s one of those kinda days ya never notice unless ya take the time to, he mused, and when ya do it’s pretty damned nice. One of the kind that makes ya think.
And Ikkaku found himself thinking on the fight- the one that just ended and the one that still echoed in the back of his mind.
Live.
That’s twice now Ikkaku’s been beaten in his life.
Live and get stronger.
He wondered what that said about him. Twice beaten, twice alive.
Get stronger and find the one that left you alive.
At this rate, he thought ruefully, he wondered if he was ever going to die fighting.
Find him and take your revenge.
Zaraki’s hit his limit, Ikkaku knew, without anyone to push himself against.
Live
Ichigo’s only going to get stronger.
Become stronger
A shiver of excitement ran down Ikkaku’s spine.
Find him
He heard shouting in the distance, getting closer, and Ikkaku struggled to prop himself up against the rubble of the wall, shouting for them to hurry their asses up.
Fight once more
He needed to hurry up and heal. Because if he ever wanted to fight Ichigo again, first he’d have to save his ass.
-Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, 1899
The draconian face leered at him. “What’s the point of this?” The oni slurred, its wrinkled and floppy face lined in blood-red and black swirls. “Why do you keep trying so hard?”
Ikkaku was unsteady on his feet, barely able to stand upright. “’cuz I haveta.” He slurred right back, the taste of blood dribbling in his mouth and broken teeth shifting as he worked his jaw.
“Why?” It asked again, long, crooked nails like chipped razors tapping against the pipe it slides between thick yellow fangs.
“I don’t gotta tell ya.”
“Of course not.” It snorted as wisps of smoke flowed from its bulbous nostrils. “But if you don’t tell your partner what’s going on, you can’t utilize your skills fully.”
A blot of blood and spittle was dashed across the ground. “A good partner,” Ikkaku snarled, “knows what’s goin’ on in the other guy’s head.”
“And if a good partner doesn’t, they ask.”
For a long moment Ikkaku merely answered with rasping pants. Then, a badly shaking hand reaching back to wipe the blood flow from his temple, he sighed. “I need this. No one else in the division has a bankai- Captain don’t even know his zanpakutou’s name. I don’t achieve bankai, we’ll be the only division without one.”
A thick brow-ridge raised. “And you think that will make the division fall behind.”
“No.”
“You want to kill Zaraki with this bankai and take over as captain?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because…” because it would fill the gap that’s unspoken but there. Because even if Zaraki-taichou wouldn’t want interfering, Ikkaku would have his back against any opponent. Because there were others out there still so much stronger than he was. Because if he didn’t, it would be like failing those that trusted him. “It’s important.”
With a hiss, the oni sucked in smoke from the pipe and let it float out of gummy lips. It emptied the contents out on the ground with a few clicks of it’s nail, tucked it in the belt of its torn obi and stood at full height, nearly a quarter against Ikkaku’s height.
“Well, if that’s how it is.”
Ikkaku’s eyes narrowed and he forced his protesting, unwilling body into a fighting stance. “Yeah. It is.”
A grin like broken ivory spread across the demon’s face. “Good.”
-Sir Winston Churchill
“Please, calm down! We’re only trying to help you!”
“No! Keep away from me with that thing, you sadistic little bastards!”
The other members of the 11th division groaned loudly. Naoya was a greenie in their ranks and had just come back from his first wide patrol in the Seireitei, where the four-man patrol came across some rouge Hollows. For a new kid, Naoya was pretty handy in a fight, more agile than strong, and he attacked the Hollows’ blind spots when they were distracted by the larger, more powerful shinigami in the patrol.
Except for the one with the spiked tentacles who lashed down the length of his arm.
And, while Naoya was fearless in battle, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to let the healers in the 4th put the salve on his arm.
“C’mon, kid!” One of the others in his patrol said. “It ain’t that bad!”
“Yeah! Just get it slapped on an’ lets get the hell outta here!”
“But it’ll sting!” Naoya wailed. The other two winced, grumbling at the image the kid was giving their division. “It’ll sting and hurt!”
The leader of the patrol, finally tired of all the bawling, strode swiftly to the cowering shinigami and the 4th division member that was trying to take care of him. At the dark look on his face, the others cowered. He pushed up the wide sleeves on his right arm, picked up a scalpel from the table and tore a wound down his forearm.
Everyone in the room gaped.
Ignoring their shock, he stuck three fingers in the jar of salve and slathered it across the flowing wound- quick, simple, efficient. Sticking the dressed wound under Naoya’s nose, he growled, “Easy as fuckin’ that, so quit bein’ a damned pussy. Get patched an’ get out- ya still got duties ta do. An’ if hear ya bitch one more time I’ll give ya fuckin’ pain, got it?”
With a final, parting snarl, the third seat stalk out of the division, grouching about how pansy-assed rookies needed to grow set of balls before he killed them all. Silence reigned as the others in the room continued to gape at the exit.
“Madarame-san,” Naoya said quietly with wide, wide eyes, “is so fucking bad ass.”
-Thomas Jefferson
Ikkaku lived to fight. Anything to make the battle more entertaining, more challenging, more fun, he’d do it. It started out as letting them in the first attack, maybe the first hit if he were that in need of a harder battle. Then, when that started getting boring, he figured he’d start fighting right-handed. THAT proved difficult at first, and when the tide was going too far against him, he’d switch back to his left and slaughter his opponent like a broken horse. Annoyed at the severe difference in levels between his hands (because fighting right-handed made wimps seem like a fair match), Ikkaku eventually dropped that idea.
Until he was dealt his first loss and was told to keep living and take revenge for his defeat. So beaten and bloodied, Ikkaku could barely hold his sword in his left hand, let alone swing it. And, though he never doubted Yumichika’s fighting ability, Ikkaku would be damned if he sat out of a battle. Though still depressingly weak fighting right handed and still not recovered from his last fight, Ikkaku pushed violently through each fight, determined to get better and stronger. Eventually, once he was back at full health, Ikkaku was pleased to discover his skill with his right hand improved greatly and began training to fight ambidextrously.
Except that when it got to the point that he could defeat anyone easily with either hand, things started to get boring again. What was the point in achieving a state few others had if he couldn’t show it off? Gripped with annoyance and boredom, Ikkaku eventually came up with the idea to fight with both sword and sheath. He could never stop being amused at the stunned look on his opponent’s face when they realized they were fighting against a sheath and, during the course of the battle, would switch sword and sheath between hands, just for a little variety and to see how adaptable his opponent truly was.
Since entering the Gotei-13 with his unusual and unpredictable style, Ikkaku couldn’t help but gloat- too many of those losers were so fucking full of themselves; he was more than happy to put them in their place. And, just to make his victories even sweeter, he started up the luck-luck dance. Because, even if he did believe in luck, he worked damned hard to get it.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-15 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-15 06:10 pm (UTC)I really enjoy your take on Ikkaku. Seriously wonderful. ^___^ He's got such a gritty hardworking, salt-of-the-earth, blue-collar, no-nonsense "Everyman" quality about him. He's so relatable, which is why he's such a great character. And your characterization adds so much depth to that. This was lovely!
BTW, “Madarame-san,” Naoya said quietly with wide, wide eyes, “is so fucking bad ass.”... Best line EVER! XD
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 01:24 am (UTC)Doesn't he, though? That's what I've always like about him, that even though he's so powerful and overwhelming, he doesn't let it go to his head- which I find very admirable.
Best line because it's TRUE XDD
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 08:05 pm (UTC)Actually, if I remember correctly, I wrote the third and second ones first^^
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-26 05:18 pm (UTC)"Because, even if he did believe in luck, he worked damned hard to get it."
That last line, in my opinion, kinda summed up Ikkaku's perspective. A little oxymoronic, but that is precisely what made it so powerful a concluding statement.
Do write more! Perhaps you can consider doing something similar for the more under-rated characters like Yumichika or Hanatarou? ^_^
no subject
Date: 2006-07-29 08:46 am (UTC)