Blowing Shit Up (Wailord)

Rudianos, having grown weary of Hueco Mundo, had decided to eat out, instead of eating locally. And, truth be told, it was also far more entertaining to wander about the human world. There was, naturally, a particularly high concentration of Shinigami in the area, meaning that he had even more people to fight, and likely beat to a pulp. In fact, he had already snapped the neck of one poor soul, and had dumped the body unceremoniously. He honestly couldn’t care less about which alley he had left his foes in – the thrill was in the fight, never in the kill.

Rudianos couldn’t believe his luck – there was a Shinigami just waiting there, just as he had been thinking of how much he would like to execute one. He didn’t rush, however – why bother? He didn’t sense that the Soul Reaper was anything special. In fact, he seemed to detect that he was far from it. Rudianos hoped that his mere presence would be enough to crush the spirit of his foe, but when it came down to it, there was something undeniably fun about watching them flail helplessly while he just stood there and deflected their attacks.
“Greetings, child. Looking for someone?"

Rudianos’ smirk grew to a small grin, and he eyed Tyler with no small measure of bloodlust in his eyes. He gathered that the Soul Reaper was just on patrol, just like most of the others he had crushed beneath him.
“I take it you are not out for a midnight stroll, Soul Reaper. No matter – neither am I. I advise you draw steel, boy, lest you face the dishonour of a death without even having threatened me. To what little extent you can, of course.”
To make up for the distance between them, Rudianos began pacing towards Tyler, taking it slowly and deliberately – his foe didn’t seem powerful enough to pose much of a threat. Why rush?