|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Sept 30, 2013 3:55:10 GMT -5
He wasn't sure what drove him down to the underground, where all of the other hollow were. Was it the people? Was it the atmosphere? He honestly had no idea; What he did know though, was that he liked it. It was calm, dark, and there wasn't any fighting. He was, like many others down here, lost in some sense of the word. Zeek was good at navigating in the dark, he was good at listening, feeling, tasting, and sensing his way through, but that isn't how he felt. He didn't feel like he was an Arrancar, thirsting for blood and vengeance on the living for being alive. No, he just wanted peace of mind, peace that his life would be something worth living now, and not just ending it all. Zeek...wanted meaning. Perhaps this place would bring that feeling, or perhaps it would bring more doors to get lost within.
That was at least until there was another person here. Not just a ruffian, someone also lost; no this person was special, they were something else. Something supernatural. Zeek could feel them from a mile away, and he was willing to bet they could also feel him. Just like Zeek though, this man was an Arrancar, someone else that was lost. They were cast away, but what were they looking for? Meaning in their existence? A reason why THEY were damned with one of his kind trapped inside the underground? Zeek was curious, and it seemed that this boy was at least level headed eno-Nope, spoke to soon.
He drew his weapon, held it toward Zeek, and started spouting hate. He sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. "You damn me to having no honor. Because I don't ride with the Espada?!" Zeek snarled for a moment. He was a defensive man, having no urge to prey on the people of under here, and yet this man assumed he would. Zeek didn't want to fight, but he knew how most Arrancar worked. They ate their own kind and for almost no reason at all. Zeek shook his head and took his two daggers from behind his back. bringing the one in his right hand so that the hilt and edge of the blade faced outward, and toward his opponent, and the one in his left hand did the same.
"You want to face me. Call me out for having no honor....but you don't even know the meaning of the word." Zeek quickly shot his hand forward, aiming a quick bala strike at the other man. He wanted to see what this man could do, and if he was even worth his time. Quickly darting to his front, Jin stabbed the other Arrancar in the gut, slicing upward with both of his blades. The Arrancar cried out in pain before dissipating into nothingness. Zeek groaned, placing his twin daggers back into their holsters. Using Sonido, he vanished, appearing back onto the surface. "This is why I hate Hueco Mundo..."
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Sept 30, 2013 17:46:20 GMT -5
The woman's eyes opened lazily, greeted by the same dull white ceiling that she had grown accustomed to seeing for several centuries. Her hands stretched upwards towards the ceiling, then dropped back to her sides, clipping the headboard on their way down. She let out a long, drawn out yawn, dreading having to get up, despite it being well in the afternoon. Time held little significance for her, she did have all of it in the world, being dead and all. She swung her legs to the side of her bed, toes touching the ice cold stone floor — the place really could use some carpeting, or even a rug. Then it's settled: she'd go to the human world, feast on some innocent souls, perhaps grab a nice hot cup of steamed milk (for healthy, strong bones of course), and then grab a nice area rug for her room: perhaps a furry one, they look so warm and comfy. She was about ready to open up her garganta when she sensed it.
Mere kilometres away, she could sense a slight rise in spiritual pressure, indicative of a conflict. On her lawn?! As Primera, she considered all of Hueco Mundo her lawn, and to soil it with blood without giving her a piece of the action? Oh there was no way she would stand for this. Without a second thought, she grabbed her zanpakuto and rushed to the scene, not even having time to change. The woman was a blur, speeding past the forest and quickly closing the distance between herself and the unidentified presences.
She appeared just as the fatal blow was dealt, watching one fade away as the assailant replaced his weapon. An arrancar? Catching a glimpse of his sonido, she replicated his speed, appearing on the sands just behind him, meeting the man as he too reappeared on the surface. "That was uncalled for." She said in a hushed tone, giving him a hint of her position. "He was my favorite." She lied. He was probably just some wandering arrancar, trying so desperately to survive — pitiful, really. If he hadn't disposed of him, she probably would have, and in all honesty, he probably did her a favor, but she was feeling especially "playful" today, so she continued.
Lyra buried her head in her open palms, beginning to make sniffling sounds, as if she was actually saddened by the loss: she wasn't. "I... I loved him!" The act continued. "We were going to devour all that we could to become strong," Her words were interrupted every so often by fake sniffling and cries. "Then, when we had enough power, we were gonna escape this dreadful place! Go somewhere where we wouldn't be bothered, and live the rest of our lives in peace!" Just a bit longer, "He... he was just out gathering some food for us, and you." There was a slight laugher in her voice, as it had gotten quite difficult now for her to hide that wicked smile buried within her hands. "You just murdered him in cold blood!" She couldn't help but laugh slightly as she finished that whole speech.
Now that she'd gotten that out of the way.... Without notice, she leaped forward wrapping her arms around the man, one around his waist, the other over his shoulder. "Since you've gone and killed him," her voice was much darker now, the "sorrow" she had faked moments ago fading away as quickly as she had put it on. "You're going to have to replace him as my new favorite."
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 1, 2013 18:57:53 GMT -5
There wasn't much in this plane of existence that Zeek feared. He understood strength, and he attained it before the likes of many; he consumed those who were weak, and he destroyed those that would try and make him bow. However strong he was though, he felt a presence unlike any other; a presence so positively terrifying that He knew, without even asking, that they could utterly destroy him. Would he back away? No. Would he run? No. But he also wouldn't put himself in a situation that would kill him, he still had many things to do. None of which involved this new face and his guts coming outward. Still, he needed to keep whatever blank expression was necessary.
When the woman came into perfect view, the act of sonido disappearing, the sound rippling outward away from them both, Zeek could see her entirely. She was beautiful, but he knew better than to simply base his opinion on the woman strictly from looks alone. Arrancar, all Arrancar, were masters of deception. Most of them wanted to kill, and pillage those that still lived, or one another to attain strength beyond their comprehension. He'd never say it, but he was sure this woman was the same way. And then when she started to 'cry Zeek's facial expression stayed blank but he was confused inwardly. He didn't know what position she held, but he was sure she was an Espada. There weren't many Arrancar as powersul as himself, or her that were rogue, as it most certainly meant death.
Her story, it sounded sincere. To be fair, Zeek didn't know or understand many things. Beyond the basic Arrancar mentality, or the basic knowledge of living in this hell on earth for centuries, Zeek wasn't the most intelligent. Still, he believed her, until one fatal flaw. 'He was gather food? Heh.' Still, Zeek didn't need to call the woman out on her own farce She began laughing, but she still had her face covered. Perhaps he could use this time to get away. He began turning his body away from the woman when he felt something wrap around his waist. Zeek didn't flinch, he couldn't risk it. He needed her to think he was, in fact, complacent. Perhaps even that he didn't fear her strength.
"Oh ho? You're new favorite, hm?" His head turning slightly, the blankness spread over his features looking at the woman through his peripheral. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. You're last favorite was just offed. How about this instead..." He started his own hands grasping hers, attempting to pry them from his person. Hopefully she'd be as complacent as he was, but even in the event that she weren't, he'd speak more anyway. "You let me go. And I HELP you find a new favorite. I like being on my own. You know....Not gathering food, or...being left for dead by she who claims me as her favorite." Perhaps the tone wasn't entirely necessary, but maybe she'd appreciate his poor excuse for joking.
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Oct 2, 2013 3:45:54 GMT -5
"Let you go?" The mere idea of it seemed silly to the woman. No, it wouldn't be as easy as that. He'd already disturbed her, and there was no way she'd just let it slide. She let him know that the chances of escape were slim by pressing up closer on him. The rough fabric of his jacket was felt through the woman's thin, delicate nightgown, as the arm she had around his waist tightened, mashing their bodies closer and closer together. Despite his efforts, the woman wouldn't yield, squeezing tighter and tighter. The hand of the arm she had over his shoulder formed a claw shape and landed on his stomach, her nails would provide a rather sharp poke, but she soon flattened her hand out, running her palm up his abdomen and across his chest. As it continued upwards, she twisted it slightly, each finger taking its place comfortably around his neck. The more he had struggled to pry her off, the more he seemed to have succeeded in doing the opposite.
She brought her chin up to his other shoulder, resting it there softly, her lips mere inches away from his ears, "Why would I need your help finding a new favorite?" She feigned a genuine tone, as if she really was confused by his proposal. She pushed herself so close to the arrancar she was able to feel his heart beat through his clothes, from which she could make a judgement about what the man. She smiled, noticing the slightest hesitation, the insecurity of whether she would strike him or not. She loved it — the way they all tried to feign a strong, unfazed exterior, but their heartbeat couldn't lie. Of course, there was no way to read the woman's heartbeat, as where it used to be is merely a hole symbolic of heartless monster that she is.
Her fingers wrapped tighter around his neck, applying enough pressure for him to at least feel slightly uncomfortable. The woman licked her lips as she spoke, now moving the hand she had previously on around his waist. It crawled its way up his left side, despite his attempts to remove it and pointed directly to his heart. Her index finger pressed firmly on his chest, as if she was going to poke his heart right out. "I've found my new favorite, and he's right here."
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 2, 2013 4:15:31 GMT -5
To be so out of control that he couldn't even pry the woman from his person; while it was an end he wasn't entirely doubting, it still made the man feel hopeless. However, that didn't mean he would stay that way. Understanding his enemy - even one from his own race - was something he had gotten good at. His arms let go, his body loosened, but he could feel their bodies touching as she pulled him ever closer. Her chest pushing through his clothing. His face lit up, but it faded mere moments after. He needed to calm himself, this woman was someone he didn't want to piss off, or someone he wanted to give any more ammunition to her than was necessary. Oh no...
Her fingers wrapped around his neck, the condescending, rhetorical question coming all so perfectly from her lips nearly sent shivers down his spine. She was truly terrifying; and it confused the hell out of the man. He didn't, for the life of him, know how to feel about her. Attractive AND bat shit insane? He wasn't sure what to do with that at the moment' hell, what COULD he do about it at the moment? She literally had his life at her fingertips. A mere cero here, or puncture wound there and he'd be dead and gone before he could do what he wanted. So, perhaps there was something to be had with this woman. Perhaps, with enough well placed brown nosing, he could get out of this alive.
Oh how he hated this so very much. The grasp around his neck was tightened, and while he could still talk and breathe, it was harder. Not noticeably, but enough that it just made complying that much easier. Still able to feel her warm breathe hitting his neck, and ear at the same time. Zeek chuckled to himself, he wanted to live, but he felt a need to defy her. To tell her no. She wanted him as her favorite? Probably not, and he knew that. He didn't want to give her the gratification of owning him, at least not without a little bit of a struggle first.
"And why should I go along with this, hm? What do I get out of this deal?" He asked, his left hand raising upward and brushing the back of her head, turning his head to the left to once more face her. "What makes you so special, hmmmm?"
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Oct 2, 2013 16:41:55 GMT -5
The woman's wicked smile merely grew as she felt his hand weave through her hair. Having just recently gotten out of bed, it was still frayed and somewhat in a mess, stray stands of pure black stuck out at places, giving her hair more body and volume than it normally possessed. She nudged his hand with her head, like a kitten asking to be pet, playing along with his efforts, despite the fact that his hand was attached to his arm was because she was allowing it. She let out a slight purr, aiming to distract him from her true intentions.
Suddenly, her legs collapsed. Applying pressure with the hand she had on his throat, she began pushing him back. She pivoted with the foot closest to him, swinging out of the way of his falling mass. The toes of her free foot dug into the sand underneath her nearby zanpakuto, and with a choreographed kick, she lifted the weapon up and towards her. The hand that had previously been pointed to his chest moved to catch the incoming projectile. The fingers of her hand wrapped around the royal purple cloth which ran along the weapon's scabbard. By this time, their bodies would be just past half way to the ground. Continuing with the momentum of the spin, the woman lifted the leg she had just lifted her weapon with, and straddled it over the man. Before said foot would touch the ground, the woman allowed her weight to drop on him. At the same time, her hand withdrew the dark coloured blade from its scabbard. Giving it a quick twist to make sure the blade was pointed the right way, the woman brought the weapon behind her back, pointed downwards as her, her weapon and his body all fell back to the ground simultaneously.
Their combined mass would produce a rather loud thump as it hit the ground, the woman letting out a slight "oomph" as she landed in a seated position upon his chest, with hand still firmly placed around his throat. Her right knee was placed atop the man's left arm, preventing major movement form that side. The zanpakuto she had just unsheathed entered the sands behind her back and between his legs, mere millimetres away from his body. It was a an angle, the hilt towards her, and the tip away, blade edge facing down. The slightest upwards movement coming from his lower body would mean the loss of precious flesh and blood. Hope you don't get excited very easily.
The light material of her nightgown struggled to follow her body down, as it caught the updraft of their bodies falling. In those precious few moments, the woman's lower body was exposed, showing off her tattooed thigh, letting him know exactly what made her "so special". Before the scabbard of her weapon could drop to the ground beside them, she snatched it out of the air, and with blinding force, she brought it down upon his free hand: the one that was placed behind her head. Where the tip of the scabbard contacted the sand was the epicentre of a ripple, dissipating the force behind the strike. Had the scabbard been facing the right way, his hand would be the thing dissipating said force, but he was in luck, the curve of the finely decorated scabbard allowed just enough clearance for him to keep all his appendages.
She lowered herself so that their noses were touching, that wicked smile never leaving her face, not even for a second. "You're the guy," The fingers of her hand around his throat all suddenly pointed inwards, her nails beginning to dig their way through his skin, already leaving their mark on his flesh. "Aren't you the one that's supposed to tell me how special I am?"
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 2, 2013 18:33:06 GMT -5
Zeek felt like he had won. He had finally gotten her to fall for his ruse, and it would allow him to get away. OH how naive this arrancar was; in a matter of moments the man had began falling. He didn't even know what was happening at the moment, but he could feel her hand tighten around his throat and everything after that seemed to follow suit in slow motion. The night sky of Hueco Mundo passed over his gaze, his lips curling into a struggled, and horrified look as the possibility of death was becoming more and more a reality. His arms almost flailed but he soon retained his calm exterior. Even if she knew he was frightened, at least in the slightest, he wouldn't let her in any more. Still, everything happened so slowly, it was like an eternity passing over him.
their bodies hit the floor, the sand cushioning the fall enough, but with everything else that was happening, between her naked thighs mere inches from his face, to the way the one styled itself against her skin. Wait a moment. 'One? Oh you've got to be shitting me.' How did he get stuck in this situation. Against this woman, against the primera. He had heard murmurs of the hierarchy switching about, but to think that this woman was so powerful that no other espada could come close to her besides the emperor, Zeek merely cussed at himself inwardly. There was no turning back, he was a dead man. He shook his head inwardly, scolding himself but at the very least, if he did nothing else with his life in this shattered night. He could at least continue to give her trouble.
What happened next sent a chill down his spine like no other. Her sword, she had stabbed it mere centimeters from his crotch. Any slightly lift, or twirl and he would likely be face a very dreary next few days. Her scabbard came down over the hand that she was holding down. There was but one thing he could do. He could transform into his true form , making the size difference between the two of them even greater and perhaps give him enough of the scare factor to set off something in her mind to let him go. Or she could see it as a challenge, and without any hesitation she would kill him, nothing but another sad, fake love story for her to tell the next poor sap. What was a man to do. Out of context though, this was one hell of a nice view.
Well, if he were to get out of this, questions weren't the way to go. Perhaps using her pride would help him. "I'm the guy..." He mumbled audibly. His lips curling into their own grin as their noses touched. "Well, you're terrifyingly powerful my dear Primera." The words struggled outward as his hips rocked from side to side. Trying his best to inch his body forward, and his hips to one side. His free hand wiggling around as he tried his best to grasp the single blade that he needed. When he transformed, he only needed one blade as that was his zanpakuto. One to transform. One fell swoop to turn his entire body into a weapon. His finger tips played along the hilt and the blade. Was he really going to do this. He needed to keep her distracted. "You're also beautiful; even with bed hair, and an obvious urge to see me writhe under you. Which normally wouldn't be so bad."
Two fingers grasped the dagger, and began pulling it out. He tossed it around, fitting it inside the sleeve of his jacket. Perhaps this was enough, he'd keep it on him, just in case. "So, how about...you let my throat go and maybe I can keep this up, hm?"
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Oct 2, 2013 19:53:48 GMT -5
"Flattery will get you nowhere, hon." She whispered. The smile on her lips grew larger (if that was even possible) as the man tried wiggle around, undoubtedly part of some kind of scheme to escape her. She played along, for now, allow him what little false hope he could still muster. It wasn't immediately obvious as to why the man was trying to dispute her absolute dominance, but where was the fun if they give up so easily? She continued the farce, allowing him to think that he was being oh so sneaky, as if she hadn't seen what he had just slipped into his sleeve. Perhaps it was time to up the ante a bit.
The woman scooched herself forward, to the top his chest, almost sitting on his neckline. She stretched her left leg out from underneath her, and placed it firmly on the wrist of his free arm, pressing the metal he had just slipped into his sleeve into his flesh. She hoped the sharp edge was pointed towards him. Oh how she did wish he would continue talking, she could just imagine, clenching that tongue of his between her teeth, and ripping it right out of his esophagus, hopefully dragging up some internal organs along with it. The mere thought of it had her salivating. The woman's tongue once again protruded from her lips, wetting them as they moved along, and ever so often slightly brushing against the man's.
Using the hand on his throat, the woman pushed her torso up again, arching her back. The grip she had around his larynx continued to dig deeper and deeper, her nails on the verge of breaking flesh, and causing the warm crimson liquid he had flowing all over his body to spill out, drenching her hands. She could almost feel its texture covering her fingertips, just a little farther. Lyra leaned back, allowing the hilt of Muramasa to touch the centre of her back, where her scapula met. The touch of cold metal through her thin nightgown sent shivers down her spine, taking a deep breath, she leaned further into it, grinning from ear to ear. The continual arching of her back served to push the blade deeper into the sands. Because of the curvature of the blade, soon those millimetres between his clothing and the blade began to shrink. Smaller and smaller, she could already hear the sound of the metal brushing against the material of his pants.
All this meant that her pelvis was driven further into his chest, making each and every breath he'd draw even more difficult — as if it wasn't already difficult enough with claws digging into his windpipe. But, at least he'd get a good view? The expression on the woman's face was one of pleasure and ecstasy, what will you do now? She couldn't wait for his response, was he going to show her something exciting, or was he going to lose his life, and most likely much more, without so much as a decent struggle? At least before he died, he'd get the answer to that one burning question he undoubtedly had: they're white, with turquoise ribbons.
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 3, 2013 4:08:39 GMT -5
"It got me far enough that you called it flattery my dear." The words escaped his lips for the last time in quite the while. What would happen to the man would be considered by some magnificent, and to others a true travesty. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. The woman had moved even further up, her nightgown being pulled even further up, her number showing even more, and a pleasant view of white and turquoise nearly made him forget what he had been doing. The woman's movements rocked his ability to concentrate right our the window. Or perhaps that was the lack of oxygen getting to his lungs. It didn't help that she would occasionally lean down and lick his drying lips. He wasn't sure if she was trying to kill him, make him submit, or make him yearn for her.
She wasn't heavy, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the fact she had her hand on his throat, her knee and now her foot holding down his arms, and her butt on his chest pushing down with that very underhanded, and deceiving strength of hers made a very deadly, albeit good, combination. Zeek looked up at the woman. He had to do something. He chuckled, expelling what little air was faintly making it's way into his lungs. The blade that he had managed to get into his sleeve (which she had seen. Figures.) pushing it so that the blade pointed toward him. He rocked his hips to the side once more, but after they were far enough to the right, he bounced his entire torso upward, in the hopes that the woman's foot, knee and body would be thrown off just enough to pull his arm free. He needed to get this done now, or else that sword that now pierced his inner thigh would probably be used soon on his entire being. "La vida y la luz se entrelazan"
And with that, life and light could entwine. Pulling his left arm free, and her foot now pressed into the sand Zeek slammed his hand forward, jamming the blade into his palm. And in that moment, the small remnants that were left on his mask began to glow as his entire body started to glow blue. Starting from the mask, and reaching outward with lines zigzagging all over. She could probably see the entire transformation in a matter of seconds if she could stand the bright light. In mere seconds the man had grown an entire three feet, now standing at an astonishing nine-foot two inches. Easily over taking the woman in sheer size. The blade had been knocked over by his sudden transformation and with the shock that was surely to follow suit Zeek pushed with both of his palms, trying to knock the woman over. He struggled to breathe, coughing loudly.
Normally one would say they watched someone after they knocked them over, but Zeek was a bit different. A large crown like skull overtook his entire head from his eyes up. In this state Zeek can't see, but because of the nature of his ressureccion, his other attributes are enhanced. With arms on either side of the woman, Zeek's entire body covered the woman in a shadow as he faced her. His head tilting to the side, his nose obviously working as he took in a deep breath. Was he grinning? Snarling? One couldn't be sure at this point as fangs filled his entire mouth. Now what he wondered? He was free, but there was no way he could out run the primera. Perhaps not but he leaned down, coming face to face with her, his head turning slightly to her each nuance in her breathing. Maybe she did manage to cause some faint interest in her, but he'd never tell her that. No, instead he lifted one arm, releasing half of the long blade that was hidden inside of his forearm, the natural hinges keeping it together. He pointed it toward the woman and spoke, his voice becoming a bit more like an animal.
"What do you think Primera; Do I still qualify as your favorite, hmm?
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Oct 3, 2013 15:25:56 GMT -5
The once seated woman was suddenly knocked off her throne — a rather mean gesture, she was having so much fun. As she felt the force of his palms, the grip around his throat had tightened, but was insufficient to rip his larynx right out. No, she only managed to take some traces of skin with her, which left minimal amounts of blood on her fingertips. As he forced her backwards, the woman used her still grounded feet to give herself some upwards motion, bringing her lower body up and above her torso. Utilizing her newly gained momentum, she flipped herself, and landed mere inches away from her zanpakuto, still stuck in the sands. Though it would have perhaps taken one less agile as her to perhaps bend the knees as they landed to aid in the transfer of inertia, but the woman stuck a perfect landing, legs straight, chest pushed forward in a confident manner, all that was missing was the row of judges all raising cards which read "10".
Though she had made no motion to grab her own weapon, it was close enough it may as well have been in the woman's hands. She watched blankly as he towered over her slender body: how typical, the man using his size to try and threaten the woman. All of it was too cliche! She didn't flinch, as he pointed his weapon at her: was she supposed to? The woman merely gave him a tired yawn, that was what she thought of his actions as of yet — boring boring boring!
Lyra spoke in a flat voice, one that said she was losing interest, fast, "That didn't take very long." Meaning him releasing his zanpakuto, of course. What was she going to do with such a disobedient creature, who was foolish enough to think that increasing his size would threaten her? The woman's loss of interest was not a good thing for the arrancar, as that was the only thing allowing him to remain breathing. The last of her intrigue was lost when he pointed his bade at her, the proverbial "last straw".
She positioned herself so that his blade was pointed at the centre of her neck. With her left hand placed gently on top of the blade, she slowly lowered it, forcing the blade to rip through the delicate fabric of her gown. It broke the first lace, opening up the neckline of the garment. She continued slowly, the tip of the blade contacting her skin, scraping along her soft flesh. The woman took deep breaths and raised her heart beat in feigned interest, deceiving his senses — seeing as how he no longer had eyes to see, she'd at least make it as obvious as possible that she was excited, or at least faking it. The blade continued down her chest, as it touched the second lace — at the level of her breasts — she stopped, letting the blade come to a rest pointed in the centre of her bosom.
"Not in the least." Her tone remained flat and unimpressed. Within a flash, her hand had reached the nearby zanpakuto. Much too fast to register to the naked eye, the woman twisted her body to the side, turning the right side of her body toward the inside of the hollow. In a blur of darkened amethyst, her katana crashed down upon his blade perpendicularly, though she wasn't the strongest, the speed at which the blade moved would surely cause enough force to fracture bones — and that's disregarding her newly sharpened sword. The combination would surely sever limbs, but perhaps this one was tough. Regardless of how "tough" he was, she was going to break him.
They always break.
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 3, 2013 16:52:04 GMT -5
Her ruse, despite it being very well done, could be seen through, so to speak. Zeek had picked up on her little acts, and this was like any other. However, when she stopped, and spoke, there was but one word that sank it's way through the craters of his mind. 'Shit' It was the single most accurate word to what he could have been feeling at that very moment in time. That moment that this woman, this demon of the night, decided that he was no longer, in fact, worth being her favorite. He wasn't sure how to react though. Should he run? No, this woman was far to fast for that. Should he fight? Perhaps he'd have no choice in the matter but she was undoubtedly more powerful. Sure, the difference between the two of them had been shrunk now, but she was still unreleased, and Zeek doubted she'd willingly show him anything more than the end of her sword. "What a shame, and here I was really starting to like the idea of being your favorite...little...servant."
He spoke gently, but that mocking tone of his would soon be shoved right back down his throat. Had Zeek not been using his heightened senses, he would probably have not caught what just happened. The woman moved with such speed, and such absolute desire to rid him of his blade that to any other she would have been a blur. However, Zeek could feel every little nuance in the air, every sound the wind made as her body dragged through the empty space between them. The feeling the wind sent his way, the sound her body made, the scent of her body allowed him to determine the distance but could he react in time? None of this matter if he couldn't move in time. then there was the small detail of where she was aiming. Zeek's breathing slowed, his body stayed limber and loose. He needed to feel it.
And then there it was. The cold steel against his bone like blade. Had it not been for his blades natural ability to close up, and be stored away in his body, or if she had simply aimed from the bottom up, his arm blade would have been gone. However, it all turned out to be in his favor. As her blade began touching his arm blade, he started to naturally retract it into his arm. However it wasn't a complete victory. Zeek felt a piece of his blade ripped off, and he could hear it as it hit the soft piles of sand. Had his eyes still been there, anyone would be able to see the pain that had registered in his eyes. There was a toll for having heightened senses. the feeling of touch in particular. Pain was also heightened and amplified. But that didn't mean he was going to go down without a fight. Releasing his right arm's blade from out of his forearm, he lunged down and stabbed the ground. This caused a rather large blade to begin forming under the primera, and in an instant it would erupt from the ground aiming to at least damage her slightly.
Ripping the blade from the ground, he once more retracted it into his arm, learning from his mistake from before. "Come now, why do we have to fight. I'm sure we could settle this over some tea." He said, trying to perhaps convince the woman. He should have known that by this point it was for not. She probably couldn't be reasoned with as it seemed she was the epitome of bat shit insane within the Espada. Still, who knew, maybe there was still a human side to the woman. Perhaps, and he hoped for this to be true, she would once more see him as a possible favorite. Cause being her favorite certainly beat out being killed anyday.
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Oct 4, 2013 4:01:55 GMT -5
If he was searching for anything remotely resembling human within the woman, she'd have no choice but to disappoint. She'd long since done away with such a silly thing as humanity. What need does she have for such a worthless character flaw? She was the product of humanity, and she embraced it with every moment; if fate had written the script and cast her for the role, she'd play it valiantly. No, there was no reasoning with her, no negotiations. The only thing that awaited the man was destruction — and perhaps a little bloodshed along the way.
The woman made no effort to continue her attack as the man withdrew his blade, noticing her previous swing had already chipped away a piece of his bone-blade. Judging from the slight hesitation, she could tell it didn't feel very nice. She merely stood in place, and allowed him to make a counter assault, watching carefully to see what he was up to — wouldn't be very fun if she had ended it so quickly, now would it? "You'll have to earn it." Her "favorite" was't just some worthless title she'd give to anybody! No, if he wanted it, he'd have to show her why he deserves it, and as of now, she wasn't impressed.
The large blade protruded from the sands underneath her feet, but she had noticed as soon as the tip was revealed. Though, the speed at which it moved caught her slightly off guard, it merely meant she would have to meet it with her blade instead of avoiding it completely — which was probably worse for the male, as it would mean suffering another blow from her katana. As his blade erupted, the woman did a slight hop, allowing her katana a mere fraction of a second's travel time. And that would be all she needed, swinging the weapon to meet broad side of his bone blade. The swing, though not as strong as her previous one, had enough force to push her airborne body away from the direction of the blow, moving her just out of the path of the blade. She could hear the blade make contact, but before she was able to do more, he had retraced his weapon. At least he was learning, that was a redeeming feature.
You talk too much. She certainly didn't need her favorite to do that. No, all she requested of him was to be able to scream and bleed. She was going to find out for her self if he was capable of either. Catching him just at the end of his sentence, while his lips were still parted in speech, the woman pushed off her back foot, moving rapidly toward the arrancar, closing the gap between them within no time at all. Her zanpakuto was poised to her side, but it was not in a position to make a swinging motion. Nope, this strike would be more precise, more directed. In a fluid motion, she brought her arm forward, carrying the blade along with it, pushing it towards his face, the tip directed at the gap between his teeth, aiming to rip his tongue out of the back of his mouth. You can still scream without a tongue, can't you?
"I'm a coffee girl."
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 5, 2013 19:27:06 GMT -5
What was he doing? Did Zeek ever put himself in this kind of position before? No, he didn't. He was good about this sort of thing, smart, the kind of intelligence one earned through real life trials, and not something innate to his person. He had never been pit against someone so much more powerful than himself, because he KNEW better. But it just seemed like circumstance, life, and the trials of past were coming back to haunt him. He grunted as he watched her sword shatter away his reiatsu blade. Why was she so powerful? Why was he the one that needed to do this. Or, maybe he should be asking why he wasn't stronger. Why didn't he wait to remove his mask? He could have been so much more than he was given credit for. But, there was a silver lining. He could WORK for her favorite spot. A soft group of words muttered from his lips. "Oh goody."
He hesitated for a moment. He could hear her, smell her, sense her and even taste her. Her scent, in this state, was so strong it left it's own taste along his tongue. She was getting closer and while he couldn't see it, he could hear it. The sands were pushing away from her figure, the wind was being cut and the sound of her night gown rubbing against her soft flesh echoed through his ear drums like he were in a cave. He needed to react...now. React! He shouted to himself, before just snapping out of it, her speed absolutely overwhelming, but his body reacted instinctively. His blades, one from both hand, released from their fleshy prison before coming up to his face. The shield would, at the very least, overtake his entire body in the shape of two large blades.
He needed to wait for her. Whatever she did would determine what he reacted to. And then there it was. The puncture point was right at his head. Moving his head to the side instantly, her blade just passed through the left part of his crown skull. Luckily for him, the shield she had penetrated would have blocked some of her momentum, thus decreasing the power she would use to cut his person. It wasn't a lot, but any reduction was a good reduction. Snapping out of it, he moved using sonido until he was just a few feet from the woman. Both of his blades reentered his arms, He raised his left arm to face the woman. Would he be so naive to try and destroy that which could not be torn down? Perhaps if it meant living.
As he gathered reiryoku to his left arm, Zeek began preparing the hollow signature attack. A bright blue, with white outlining cero started to form in his left hand, aiming towards the woman. This would, if it hit, be of decent power. He was much better with spiritual attacks anyway. Using sonido once more, he plotted her location before releasing the cero toward her person. He stopped, his figure backing up. He wasn't going to win if this didn't do any damage. Hell, he probably wouldn't win regardless. The woman hadn't even released, and she was still giving him more hell than any thing else ever had. This was without a doubt his life flashing before his eyes. However, a cool exterior was still the best course of action. "Perhaps, once this is done, we can do that. Maybe eat your second favorite."
|
|
|
Post by Lyra Ishigami on Oct 6, 2013 1:24:14 GMT -5
He was certainly less talkative than before, does that mean he was beginning to struggle? Even if he continued with his little routine of acting tough, she could see right through him. Or rather, she didn't care whether he was faking it or not. She'd go about doing her own thing — his fear would just be the cherry on top of the cake. Nevertheless, from his reactions, the woman knew he was no longer in his comfort zone, something she seemed to have no trouble taking people out of.
"Tch," she was slightly disappointed her blade hadn't ripped his tongue right out of his mouth, but she'll settle for what she got. Wait, this is Lyra we're talking about, there was no way she'd "settle"! No, not a chance. The woman was about to slice across where her blade had punctured his mask when the man's figure disappeared, sonido. Of course, she was quite familiar with the technique, in fact, there were few arrancar, even in the ranks of the Espada who've reached her level. Tracking his movements while he traveled was almost child's play. Instantaneously, she picked up on his location, and before he could gain the position advantage on her, she would have already begun utilizing the technique to ruin what ever ploy he had up his sleeves.
She caught the distinct change in reiatsu density in front of the man's left hand, indicative of the energy blast to come. Finally getting a bit serious, are we? To use such an attack on her. And here she thought they were just having a little bit of innocent fun! Well, if he was going to show her this much, she should at least be courteous enough to give him a glimpse of her talent.
Had she not been the Primera, perhaps his calculations may have been correct, but had she not been the Primera, he wouldn't be having (oh so much) fun! Seconds before the cero's release, the woman relaxed her control of her own spiritual power. The result was a split second burst of chaotic reiatsu, which was then quickly tamed and moved underneath her feet. Utilizing her released spiritual mass, the woman planted her feet firmly, then kicked off the sands beneath her. The force was enough to send ripples of energy into the sands, creating a unique circular formation in the ground. She watched as the cero left his hand, but it was already too late. The woman's figure was already a blur, no longer occupying the space he had launched his attack.
He would not be notified of her presence by the normal sound static which preceded a traditional sonido no matter how acute his sense of hear was: much like how thunder lagged behind the lightning, the sonic boom created by the woman's movement lagged behind her appearance — this would be his reward for showing her his cero. The woman's body materialized behind him, watching as the cero approached her previous location.
She smirked, wondering if he would notice her without being able to rely on his sense of hearing. With the same speed as before, her zanpakuto once again was pointed at his throat, but this time from behind. If her frontal assault didn't produce favorable results, perhaps one from behind would. The woman lunged forward, aiming to pierce his throat once again, coming from below, aiming to take off his tongue once more. "You'll have to do a bit better than that to be my favorite." Her sentence concluded with a boom: the sound of her sonido finally catching up to her.
|
|
|
Post by Zeek Hoshigawa on Oct 8, 2013 5:35:01 GMT -5
There was a certain feeling Zeek got every time he fought someone. Was it sadness? No. Anger? Kinda, but mostly disdain. Especially when they were so strong. When they weren't even trying, while he was giving it his all. That really made him frustrated. This woman, without even blinking, could run laps around the Arrancar. She was superior in almost every day outside of her released state, while he was released. Doesn't that bother anyone else? OR is it just me? The question was mostly rhetorical, who else could he be talking to? He almost wanted to crumble, and pout himself into a corner, but that wasn't an option at the moment. She was beginning a counter attack, and boy would he wish he had his eyes at the moment.
There wasn't a sound. Had she left? No. Her scent was still around, and there was a ripple in the ground. A shock-wave, perhaps? 'Can she even create shock-waves?' He asked himself internally, his voice would have been wary, discouraged, and frightened. She was so powerful that simply moving caused ripples in sand, something he hadn't even experienced before. This was becoming all to familiar. Self-loathing, anger, and fear all mixed into his person like a bad bowl of food. After coming snapping back to reality, moments passing in slow motion, Zeek caught the scent of her being again, the weight of her reiatsu, the wind coming from her speed as she whizzed passed him. She wasn't aiming for his front, of even his side, but his back. He couldn't use his shield again so soon. It would drain him too much, and he was already running low. He had a plan, but it require him to take a mighty nasty blow.
Raising his hand, and arm quickly, Zeek brought it around to his back, and with a quick release of his sword, he felt the two, his sword and hers, connecting. The blade, on the other hand, still managed to connect with his person, entering his right shoulder; she would, probably, feel bone at this point. However, that wasn't important. With a low grunt, and a quick turn of his body, Zeek ripped the blade along his flesh, turning to face the woman. He knew the spot of the sword. Releasing his right arm blade, he attempted to wrap the blade around hers, even for just a moment. All he need was for his sword to hold hers in between the the two sections of the blade, using the joint to lock it in place. If that could work, this next counter might just send her away, or worse yet, make her actually WANT him as her favorite. He dreaded the idea.
Without wasting a moment of the small window - if he even had that - Zeek released his second sword and brought it in an arcing angle in an attempt to cut her chest. The angle, and the arc would easily slide over the last remaining string to her gown, not that it would matter to the Arrancar; he was, in fact, still blind. However, he didn't need to spend any more time here than necessary. Using Sonido, Zeek backed away and took in a big whiff of the air around him. She was still in her spot, and he was still alive; somehow. Perhaps giving up now, and living would be better than dying at her hands. In the very lease he could come back and challenge her when he was stronger. Yeah, why not? "I think I'd like to be that favorite now. If we could just stop this charade now."
|
|