Post by Yaksha on Dec 16, 2014 16:35:43 GMT -5
The onsen was doing business, and doing it quite well as a matter of fact. There were people milling about very nearly every day, and Yaksha's own aides were always just out of sight, doing their best to subtly lead events. Yaksha had been rubbing elbows and shaking hands almost non-stop lately, often in some manner of terrycloth or similar outfit. After all, he had a reputation to uphold; there was something oddly soothing about that thought, about knowing that people were counting on him for something. It kept him grounded, in a way...it reminded him who he was. Or at least, who he was supposed to be. It was always so easy to mix up the masks when there was no one who knew you around. Today however, he was Yaksha the mildly eccentric entrepreneur, the savior of Karakura Town. Today he was one of the few identities he enjoyed.
He'd managed to relax so much he'd even left his gigai behind for now, slumped in a corner with the arms folded over its chest. It looked to all the world like Yaksha was sleeping, or somehow otherwise indisposed. Very few people risked bothering him during this time. Those who did were invariably unitiated, and quite unaware that even when he appeared asleep, Yaksha was always watching. Anyone with any skill at sensing reaitsu could tell as soon as they entered the room; this was a place of immeasurable power, a place with an atmosphere as thick as Las Noches. The very miasma of reaitsu from Tova Diablo's would-be invasion fed Yaksha, and fed him well. It was enough to keep him sated, if not completely satisfied. But wasn't hunger part of the joy of life? Not for the first time, Yaksha realized just how much he pitied his brethren.
He had not truly been starving in years, though his stomach always held within it a capacity for infinitely more. What he experienced was only one shade shy of discomfort, a constant warmth in the pit of his stomach that seemed to imply that, at any moment, he could be persuaded to nosh on a soul or two with little trouble. But to call it hunger was simply...foolish. There was nothing motivational about his state of being. It was purely detached, purely intellectual...and it was purely annoying, Yaksha found. But he had suffered countless annoyances throughout the years. He could stomach one more. Even if his stomach was the annoyance.
He felt it, a moment before he had finished opening a bottle of wine. There was the faintest of pings, a slight disturbance...as if someone had just dropped a pebble in a lake. The ripples were hard to feel from here, but the meaning wasn't lost on him. A shinigami had just opened another Senkaimon into the town. Not too far, if he was any judge. But it could wait, in any case. He'd been hard at work for the last few days, and he was going to enjoy the gentle warmth of a few glasses before he went out to greet the company.
He had managed one and a half before a hollow walked through his wall, paused as it was lanced to the wall by Yaksha's gaze, and stood at attention. Yaksha watched for a second of dreadful silence, then held out a hand in a gesture of acceptance, waving the hollow closer. He took a long, quick sip of the wine he'd poured as he waited for the hollow to elaborate on the circumstances of the annoyance. It had only been a few minutes, and already people were trying to ruin his relaxing day. Was there no end to the annoyances life would pile on him?
"Sir. A shinigami is here. They've asked to meet with you."
"Did they, now."
He said nothing further, simply draining the glass of wine and then staring at the wineglass in a remarkably obdurate way. To be honest he enjoyed watching the hollow squirm, and knowing it was trying to figure out the right words to say. He'd been struggling with the same issue for far far too long, and he wasn't going to deprive this beast of its chance to know his pain. He set the glass down, sighed softly, and then turned to face the hollow. He still didn't speak, but his eyes were twinkling with the tiniest of lights.
"She's killed at least half a dozen hollows."
"She. She asked to meet with me."
The hollow squirmed as Yaksha's eyes bored into the hollow's, their eyes wide with terror and concern. Yaksha knew precisely what he was doing, of course; his gaze was a cold, distant one...one that showed as much thought about ending a life as it did about throwing away a piece of garbage. He had no intention to kill, but he'd happily threaten, until they understood just what it was he was waiting for.
He finally sighed, looking at the ceiling and rolling his hands in a 'hurry up' gesture, as if inviting them to say something else. "She asked for me...by name...?"
"I...no? No, but she asked for the one who was responsible for-"
"Then she doesn't know who it is, and thus doesn't know it is me. Thank you, Archibald."
He'd taken perhaps three steps before the hollow gave out a pathetic hemming sound, as if it were trying to clear its throat. Yaksha paused, one leg through the wall, and rose an eyebrow. A second later the hollow spoke again, its voice tremulous.
"My name isn't Archibald. It's Vega."
"Of course it is. You will be remembered, Vega." He didn't give the words time to truly sink in before he'd walked through the wall, towards the recent sign of the Senkaimon. He sensed no reaitsu, but a quick flick of his tongue confirmed someone was there. For a split second he thought it may have been Umi...but even they wouldn't have been so crass as to arrive as a woman. Or so dim as to forget his name. No, this was someone else entirely.
Someone he had absolutely no information on. Oh, he was going to enjoy this challenge.
1000- 20 GP