Post by Nazomi on Sept 11, 2015 16:38:27 GMT -5
Sand blasted shattered architecture pressed into the dune that had half consumed it. It was the first that Nazomi had ever seen such a thing, never having bothered to explore the desert as he had in....however long it had been since his arrival. Fleeting time here did not matter as much. There was no pressing tick, tick, tick of the watch constantly reminding how closely it spun to that particular midnight. Given that he had indulged a wanderlust instead; fed on the contentment of his choices still there was no other desire to sate or pleasure to want but to float through a world that had no meaning where it could be treasured for the deprivation of distractions. There was no Nyx in the sky to speak to him, no soul that mattered this far in the badlands.
He was alone if only in the company of beasts.
Whatever siblings watched him were of no importance. Even if the Espada recognized them beyond the prick of another's eyes on him, they would not be worth tearing his attention away from the contentment he felt. It had been a victory march of a sorts, swaying back and forth towards no destination in particular. All the while filled with music that was bright gold and blinding. Humming the tune in his being was impossible but he attempted to do so anyways. There were no words to accompany his singing, his pitch sometimes imperfect, but still he vocalized what it was that possessed him. A mess of tempo that shifted from urgent to soft and lilting, intoned by a monster who only cared for his own satisfaction with it.
In all the gloating it was sobering to find anything that was so worth his notice that could halt his joyous advance. It didn't stand out so much as it was the desiccated remains of a place that flashed in curious detail in the corner of the Arrancar's eye. There was really no other option but to stop and see it in fuller detail. If anything it only brightened his mood further. The endless desert did nothing to elate him further nor steal from the rapture gained, but it was not the set piece he desired as of the moment. This was a departure from the blandness, even as time worn as the remains of the structure obviously were.
The wall nearest to him was rather lacking. A few fat stones that laid close to the foundation. Some chipped, others cracked and shattered from the whole of what had been. A uniform row of worn carvings that had been neatly chiseled into each were caked with the bleach bone sands, rubbed down to near indiscernible patterns that only seemed to make them that much more interesting. It was so much more appealing without the barrier to notice the floors or the or the broken throne that sat near the back, or the muted gleam of glass peeking from beneath the dune that had swallowed the far wall. Whatever roof that had once sheltered it was surely gone, not that he minded. Star gazing was one of the few minor enjoyments that he found without need for impulse or madness. It had been a hall then? Whatever had been of the building it had belonged to either having sunk deeper or crushed into rubble. All the debris peeking from the grounds nearby only made the story he wrote for it all the more likely.
This seemed as fine a spot as any to settle in. A place he might even be able to rest for a time. It had months since the last time he'd slept; it might even prove a peaceful indulgence. That was the sort of feel it had, and in his current mood Nazomi didn't wish to waste it. It had to be grand once. Had to have been. To look at it with the stone table positioned before the throne or the remains of the large empty hearth behind it, and it seemed almost as if one of their kind had meant to make a home of it. Which was absurd as it was rare to imagine. Though, it was more likely than any creature besides a Hollow surviving in that environment. That might have explained it, the destruction at least, but there were too many possibilities to muse over. Nor did any of them matter. What remained was his to do with as he saw fit.
Which, considering it, could do with a bit of cleaning as it was. Guests soon. That wasn't any mystic realization so much as a practicality. Inevitably someone would always come uninvited and it was something of a good time to receive them. Why it was even an amusing diversion, really. Either his siblings would stalk closer and be found wanting, in which case he'd have kindling for the fire place, or they would be worth the sharing of his joy. So much of it to share, in fact. A hunger he wanted to spread and sate on others, to experience them for the potential they might yet yield. To see what choices they could yet make.
Further delighted at the idea of a housewarming party Nazomi released a simple pulse of will into the world, sweeping away the dune and trite motes of sand still clinging to the surface of his dwelling. Repeated and it wasn't long before he exposed the wall that had been hidden, not being the least of what was unveiled with that bit of effort. Five long mirrors framed by the stone itself, no longer lustrous but obvious for what they had been. A door that no longer had a room to open to aside them, and to the right of it a small bookcase with an assortment of rather worn sentimental belongings that contrasted against the corpse of the hall itself. Books, a music box, a collection of simple knick-knacks the madman could imagine pilfering once upon a time. No wonder there was a sense of comfort there.
Oh the things he could do with a base such as this. A little blood and the right application of talents and it would still be a hall worth visiting. Well enough away from the castle but still a residence worthy for the title he held. Or had held. Whichever it was. The number nor the thought mattered much in of themselves but there was still an importance to remaining connected to them. Which would mean making it easier to receive more illustrious company than he'd first regarded. The distance really wouldn't matter in the end but it was befitting of his mood and station to at least make it easier on them. The door would work fine for such a purpose.
It didn't need to connect to anything anymore, not physical room at least. Which was just as well. Burying teeth into his wrist it was an effort to keep his body from restoring the damage immediately, but that was a trick he'd had enough practice with as of late. A smatter of blood on its frame and the old material from which it was made rumbled and shifted with life, drawing itself together with a finer polish than anything that had been rotting should have had. More of the same and a playful application of his abilities and the hall could become a greater residence than any that the castle itself offered. For now he would be satisfied doing this small bit.
Connections; as was the entire point. A piece of himself to act as a conduit and the black blood simply did as it was apt to do when restoring any ruined limb or wound. Through that newly imbued extension of himself it was easy to put a simpler twist on a favored use of his abilities. There was no such need for repeating corridors with this, merely an efficient means of stepping from the corridor that would have led to an otherwise empty tower one of his predecessors had once lived in to lodgings he could truly call his own. Both distant and close to the heart of Los Nochas as impulse or necessity required. A quick check to make sure the door did indeed open up to where he intended within the castle instead of some makeshift death trap and the madman was satisfied with his work enough to retire to the broken stone chair.
Busy, busy, busy. A bit of creativity had slipped into his good mood; that's all it was. A new chapter deserved something befitting the triumph that had closed out the last. A debt settled and with that some closure for the things that had been eating at his concentration, what little he cared to make use of, meant a chance to make better use of his time until there was no more left of it to spend. There wasn't really more he could hope for as far as that. A new project only made that smug feeling more intense. That was the only excuse the Arrancar had needed. This little DYI project would serve the interests he'd already intended to pursue well before, or at least make their pursuit less taxing to deal with.
It lacked all the things that a good celebration needed. Liquor to drown in, pretty little things to sate the want for conquest that he had, in bloody frenzy, left wanting. Dead several times before there was a chance to really enjoy the screams and the squirming. Pain or Ecstasy would both be acceptable now, either in equal measures or taken however he would have to get them. That would require company to stumble in on him first, or at least to stop hiding at the edges of his perception. Oh but the music that he could make with enough guests; the sort of sweet revelry born from the congregating of monsters. But lack of those things didn't necessarily motivate him to go hunting for them. Lazy, perhaps, but his happiness was not dependent on them, only enhanced.
Besides all that, he was quite comfy where he sat. He wouldn't have thought the broken throne would appeal to the relief of aches he hadn't been aware of having, but it had. Enough that abandoning it when he was neither done furnishing this new...home, since there was no other word for it, nor really thinking ahead, was more eager than he could remember being for such mundane interactions. The wrong guest, the tiniest slight or worse yet, pointlessness, and it would steal from him the rare bliss that he'd acquired. Or maybe not. Maybe instead they would provide decorations as well as warmth once stripped of misused life.
Then it would be better to link the path to him with a few more doorways. Some more for personal amusement than any other intent. If that didn't serve to bring him anyone interesting then perhaps the Espada's kin would grow a bit more bold if they saw him alone and resting. Maybe as guests or maybe as food. Either or seemed an acceptable outcome; more so the latter if they were so intent on playing hunter with him instead of minding themselves. It wasn't a worry any more than anything else at the time. When interrupted finally it would be worth revisiting then, not before.
But no visitor would arrive so soon that Nazomi couldn't find the time to nestle against his new chair and slip off into guiltless sleep. It came easier than any time before than the Arrancar could remember. He'd earned that much; a respite without fear what may visit him in it. Settling in he fell into bible-black dreamless slumber, the memory of her bleating screams easing him deeper into it still.
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Word Count: 1968
GP Gained: 39
