Silenced Song [Closed/Cheshire]

Would she be able to fight him, if it came down to it?

She needed a more concrete plan. It had been a spur of the moment decision; her directions in life were mainly based on whims, yes, ultimately leading up to her desires, but she wasn't the most spontaneous person otherwise. Not when it came to serious situations such as this. Not when it came to her neatly walking her way to the Primera's tower to... what? Stalk him? Glean some kind of information? She knew without a doubt she wanted Jian for herself. She had no interesting in hurting the mortal, just playing with him, playing with him as long as she could and seeing where it lead the little knight. Seeing what he could and would do for her, in the end.

He had mentioned Takua by name. As far as Cheshire knew, the healer was the strongest Arrancar in... everywhere? If you didn't count Erasmus, that is, but he hardly qualified to be called an Arrancar anymore. Just like Severance before him. There was so much Cheshire knew, yet so little. She knew names. Events. Anything of such magnitude that it would have effected her within the last 39 years of this new existence of hers. Takua had been a Fraccion to Amaya when she was still an Espada, and he had been the one to deal the killing blow on Severance.

That must have been hard.

She had heard there was a relationship between them, though that was placed on a long list of facts she'd never be able to confirm. That's why she was here, though, right? She didn't feel pity for the blind man in his tower, made to nurse the injuries of all (or most of) the Arrancar that came before him. He had a reputation. He had a reputation that was only whispered, lest they fear evoking his or the false King's wrath.

He was 'good'.

Jian had said it himself.

Maybe it was not his morality that bothered Cheshire as much as she told herself, stewing in her thoughts at what would cause a creature of their breed to be 'good'. She, herself, was good, no? She was good because she was the Queen, and therefore she must be in the right, whatever she did. The people that acted against that-- they would be the bad. Objectively, then, was this Takua bad for having a claim on her new property?

She was here to confirm. Everything. Anything. She wanted information, and after her meeting with Sobek Septicimia- or whatever he might call himself now- she was a bit bolder with the idea of meeting with the Primera. Her main focus was not exactly... a face-to-face conversation, however. She was good at hiding in the shadows. Biding her time. Taking notes. Her reiatsu was wrapped tightly around her, invisible to all but the most skilled.

Would he know she was coming, anyways?

Could he sense her, even now?

She felt like she was being watched. It was her paranoia, perhaps, but it unsettled her.

She was smarter than to go barging into his castle, demanding answers to her many questions. It was curiosity, nothing more, cautious as it was- a smoldering desire rather than the burning that usually sent her headfirst into the thrill of on-the-edge danger. She was trying to compartmentalize her feelings, lay out everything neatly, determine what her foremost intention for this meeting was.

Let him know that Jian was now hers? That likely wouldn't go well, no matter what kind of relationship the two shared. Jian spoke as if Takua cared for him, and she had to go off on the basis that was true. That he would be defensive of him, and that she wouldn't be able to directly wrestle him for ownership. She was smarter than that. On that, she should try her best to find out what Takua wanted from the mortal knight. Why he, an Arrancar, would put himself on the side of... of... mortals?

The word good kept ringing into mind, but she found herself incredulous each time it did. She was confusing herself, mind spiraling circles even as the amber of her eyes was alert to every bit of her surroundings. She was closer now. Not much further. Boots clicked across the stone flooring and neat, dainty hands smoothed out the layers of her skirt.

If Takua was good, did that make her bad, or did that place him on her side?

How did her own morality play into the way others perceived their own?

Had she long since bought in to the idea that all Hollow were 'evil' as all Shinigami were 'just', and was just avoiding that fact until she was made to face it now? Perhaps an alignment wasn't the best way to describe Takua. The way he went about himself would be better fitting. He was not cruel, or self centered, or seemed to have any ambitions of his own. He did not seem like an Arrancar, as much of one he truly was.

Was that what troubled her?

How did he deviate so far from the path most followed? Most had to follow, as was written in their fates?

She was an exception, of course, but why would he be?

Is that why he interested her?

She hated it when she was consumed with this many questions, and when she was unsure of whether she would get the answers she wanted or not. Arrogance, justified as it was, was a quality she definitely possessed- but she was not so arrogant as to think that she would be able to take on the Primera if it came down to it. Would she die? She couldn't dwell on that. Her composure would waver, and the decision to finally step forward and confirm the doubts and opinions in her thoughts would have been for naught. He had to know she was here already, anyways, finding herself closer to the doors of the castle with each step. Did he scare her?

She did not feel fear.

He would be more problematic than the Tercera, yes, and she would not be idiotic enough to try her power on him the same way she had on Sobek; (which had backfired pretty badly, though it wasn't a turn-out anyone could have expected and she had still walked away the winner) but she did not fear.

She would get something from this meeting, even if it was nothing more than a mere look at him.

The doors swung open before she even reached the point she could have opened them, herself, or before she had fully steeled her resolve.

“May I help you?”

It took every ounce of her strength to keep from turning and running, then and there. To click her heels in the familiar snap of her Sonido and be gone before the words even left his mouth. How had he opened the door? Telekinesis? Was that a power he possessed? No, her senses picked up the residual energy of a familiar attack. Did he have such fine tuned strength that he would perfectly min/max a Cero or Bala to move the door without causing it any damage or otherwise alerting her?

She chided herself.

He could have killed her the moment those doors opened if he so wished. She knew that now. She also knew the cloak of her reiatsu had done nothing for her-- as she suspected, he had known she was coming here from likely the moment she had, herself.

She felt outsmarted, and she hated that feeling. What did she do? She just wanted to watch him for awhile. Maybe see him... work his magic, or eavesdrop on any conversations. Eventually she'd have to speak with him, yes, but she had the sneaking, gnawing feeling that lying and manipulation would not work on him.

She wouldn't face the fact that his power dwarfed her own.

She was the Queen.

He was a bird, a pawn in his own right for his 'King'.

A bird for the cat to bat around, feathers and all.

She adapted, quickly, standing straight and returning his gaze with the same amount of tactical mirth he was giving her. Was he smug about the scenario he created? That he had started the game before she could? "Salut, sir." Her words dripped with the same candy-coated melody they always did. Ever polite, ever genuine, at least in her presentation.

"With all due respect," she started, willing herself to mean it as much as was possible. He'd be a powerful ally to have. A powerful servant? She was not that naive. This one could not be a toy, just as she would not claim Erasmus was a plaything. She knew better than that.

That didn't make her less than she was.

It just made them more than they could have been.

"I wanted to see you with my own eyes. Please pardon the interruption.

It seems we have not had the pleasure of meeting before. Incantant de cunostinta, o placere, sir Primera.

I am Cheshire."

What now?

---

Word Count: 1518

GP Count: 30

/Total: 30

She was a scared little thing.

At least that was the first impression. There were others that floated in as he felt her arrogance and pride, the surety of her rightness. A sensation very close to cat-like and near malevolent cunning here in one moment and gone in the next. She had excellent control over her fear, not allowing it to control her at all. There was a second where she might have bolted like the cat she so resembled, but the moment passed. Part of him wondered what game she was trying to play as she straightened up and some level of mirth flowed through her. Resentment as well- she wasn’t happy he had taken the first shot in this game. Whatever she was after, and she was after something, he’d stolen first strike by opening the door.

Another part of him wanted to just turn her away and let himself turn back to his weave upstairs. That this was a game was obvious. Her words were…only partially respectful, voice sickly sweet with a perfect blend of sugar only betrayed by his understanding of what lay beneath. So what if she wanted to play a game? She wasn’t wounded, he didn’t have to play it.

But part of the reason why he was even making clothing in the first place was because he needed to pass the time. She wanted something out of him, his job was to find out exactly what that was and why. It would be a delightful little game they would play. Besides…

‘She’ was already partly unique.

He’d noticed it immediately, but her carriage and clothing suggested she preferred the other gender. He’d made this mistake once already with Dewis, but he’d learned since then a touch more. And besides…now that he’d met this woman, he was fairly confident he could recognize the signs of it in another soul. It was a rather interesting identifier he could see through the Eyes. Takua hadn’t known that would show up in a soul, but now that he’d seen it…well, he wouldn’t that mistake again. But the signs of a soul not aligned with her own body, so strongly wishing that it was changed.

Well, that didn’t have anything to do with him. He wouldn’t bring it up unless she did, but somehow he didn’t think she would.

His blind eyes picked over her through the veil of his mask, sampling her reiatsu as she introduced herself. His ears pricked, though, as he heard a language he hadn’t heard another Arrancar use before, or another spirit at all to be honest. His brows furrowed just a touch and a faint frown formed…that swiftly turned into a smile, “Ah, Romanian? Interesting. Quite the different language to choose from, as opposed to the standard Spanish of the Arrancar or Japanese of the Shinigami. O plăcere să te cunosc prea.” A light smile hovered around the Primera’s lips as he bowed just slightly in return. Living for such a long time, having consumed so many souls over his life, meant that there were few major languages he didn’t have at least some command over. But this was a treat, it was one he’d actually spoken when he had been a Mortal, it was quite nice to remember hearing that back in Constaninople, before his life turned bloody and dark.

“It’s been a while since I had the opportunity to speak in that language, thank you. Well then, Cheshire. I am Takua Megiddo. Primera Espada, as you know. You say you’ve come to see me? Well then.” The blind man raised a single hand up almost to his shoulders and snapped his fingers. “Come in Cheshire.”

All around the room lights flared to life, torches surging with golden white flames that gradually turned more red. The result of his power igniting them instead even without his release. He was rather happy with the channel he’d built into his Resurreccion, allowing him to draw out fire to merge with his Cero even without being in that state. It allowed him to do fun things like this. With the lights on, a few statues could be seen, one or two tapestries, a bookshelf that looked a touch dusty that sat next to a long leather couch, several tables…a staircase that went up into the tower above, and another that ventured its depths. Plus a few other odds or ends. Takua didn’t really care, this was just the entrance room.

He turned and walked back farther into the room, the stiffness with which he had greeted his guest nowhere in sight. Instead, he was rather relaxed as he strode to the table which contained a tea kettle and a number of cups. He spoke quite as though he was instead talking about the weather, perfectly naturally, “You’re not injured, and you don’t want to be my Fraccion. Which is good, because I don’t have any and don’t want any. But asking to see an Espada usually means you want something. Most of us can be…mmm, temperamental at best. Tea?” He pressed his finger to the kettle…which immediately shrieked a blast of steam as the water inside suddenly found itself raised to the boiling point. Takua deftly poured himself a cup and dropped a packet of earl gray into the cup.

The blind man didn’t actually need to face the woman he was conversing with, but it often made it easier. Besides, most people were used to talking face to face…and now that he could see reiatsu directly, there was a certain quality he desired from that kind of interaction as well. “So you’ll pardon me if I doubt that you just wanted to see me. No one does. There’s usually risks involved with interacting with an Espada, although I will admit I’m likely the best you could choose if you wanted a calm talk. But still. Risks.” Risks that included the small benefit that Takua could kill nearly anyone in Las Noches and Erasmus probably wouldn’t bat an eye. That Takua wouldn’t do it unless he had good cause only solidified that, but this Cheshire probably didn’t know that.

A small but genuine smile crossed his face as he looked at the woman, his mask still and unmoving as it covered his eyes from any attempt to read them, “You’re free to sit or stand anywhere, by the way. The couch is exceptionally comfortable.”

WC: 1073 | GP: 21 | Total: 42

She could tell her was scrutinizing her, and it wasn't something she particularly enjoyed. She was used to men's eyes on her--but through that visor of his, could he see anything? Could he even really see her? Was he using something else to read her, or did he have like, x-ray vision--

Well, if any thought made her blush, it would be that. Falling prey to the lewd gaze of another Arrancar she could handle, but the Primera Espada of all people? He was cute, yes, but the fact that he could kill her on a whim--a thought she didn't entertain for longer than split second moments of foggy terror--definitely killed some of that attraction. She liked to be able to play with her toys, after all, not the other way around.

She coughed, awkwardly, though part of that might be for show to help further Takua's relaxation around her. No one feared an embarrassed girl, after all, and would rarely suspect one.

Instead of sitting there and squirming like a naughty schoolgirl, though, she took the time he used to study her to do the same to him. Most things she heard lined up with his apperance, though it wasn't as if she hadn't seen him around, long-ago, before he got to the position he was in. They had just never met. Something about him had always... put her on edge. Not in a threatening sense; just a way he unsettled her, so casually, so passively, that had always deterred her from approaching him.

She noted she didn't feel much different now, though how much of that discomfort was due to him or his position as an Espada was up in the air. Largely in part to the way he had caught her so off-guard, perhaps.

What kind of game would this be, after all?

“Ah, Romanian? Interesting. Quite the different language to choose from, as opposed to the standard Spanish of the Arrancar or Japanese of the Shinigami. O plăcere să te cunosc prea.”

It took her a few seconds of blinking, leaning in slightly as he spoke to better process his words, before his speech registered. He was speaking the same language. "Romana, nu? I did not know that. If we are being honest, domnule Primera, the words come to me. I do not go to them." The train of thought didn't linger, easily shrugged off--it had never bothered her, but no one had been able to comment on what language it was, exactly, until now. Is that what she spoke when she was alive, after all?

Ah, musings. Simple musings.

She inclined her head, regardless, almost curtsying before him. "Desi, multumesc foarte mult. You honor me with your hospitality. A pleasure, this is."

"I am Takua Megiddo. Primera Espada, as you know. You say you’ve come to see me? Well then. Come in Cheshire."

This is where she ended up hesitating once more, her confidence faltering and growing at inconsistent intervals at every new word out of the bird's mouth. She could get away, she knew, with politely bowing out now. While he held a significant amount of theoretical power of her, his disposition was not argumentative nor aggressive. He was moving, easily, as if this situation was no surprise to him. Her toes curled as lights lit with the flick of one of his hands, a display of strength that made her more wary than she had been just moments before.

She could leave. She should leave. Excuse yourself, apologize once more for the sudden interruption, and leave him to do... whatever it is people like him did in their spare time. (She found herself wondering that, for a moment. Wasn't her purpose for being here to find out more about him? No, it was to confirm what she already knew. Would too much information be too much information? What was the safest option?)

She didn't, though, as one of her boots lifted from the ground and then shifted forward; landing with a sharp tap. Her caution was noteworthy, though nothing but her playful admiration shown in her eyes, nor in the graceful motions of her body. She could leave, yes, but she would not.

She was curious, now, and that never did well for the object of her interests. Curiosity was a strong desire, and a pull she could rarely resist.

Besides, when had curiosity ever killed anyone?

You’re not injured, and you don’t want to be my Fraccion. Which is good, because I don’t have any and don’t want any. But asking to see an Espada usually means you want something. Most of us can be…mmm, temperamental at best. Tea?”

He did this too easily. He knew the power he held, and he owned it without being smug. His graciousness was noteworthy in how he took to the role of a host, finding herself robotically stepping past the threshold into his tower proper and examining the room. It was... nice. She had, somewhere deep down, always figured the Espada for significantly less-than-amicable people. She never pictured them as the types who would take to... decorating, though she figured it suitable to want your living space to be the most comfortable for yourself. Sobek's tower, as full of science as it was, had been the only one she had seen up to this point and it didn't leave the best of impressions.

She wiggled her nose, scrunching out the remembered smells. She instead focused on Takua's, which was pleasant enough, both in smell and in setting.

She nodded along as he thought out loud, confirming every one of his points. "You are correct, sir. I am in perfect health, and I am not looking for employment." Though she had entertained the thought, once upon a time. Being a Fraccion would be a great power play for status and position--but she somehow knew that Takua would not be one to be tricked by false loyalties, so that would be a moot point. His temperament comment was the one to relieve the tension that had built along her spine, shifting slightly, now standing in the middle of the room and looking around from there. Temperamental was correct, she noted, thoughts briefly flickering to Souta before those were shooed away.

"You seem to be an exception, sir, if I may be so bold."

Of course he would be.

“So you’ll pardon me if I doubt that you just wanted to see me. No one does. There’s usually risks involved with interacting with an Espada, although I will admit I’m likely the best you could choose if you wanted a calm talk. But still. Risks.”

She had to offer a short, amused breath in reply to that. "Still speaking frankly, domnule Primera, I would doubt that no one comes to see you. As a healer for our lands, our breed, you must have allies, nu? Friends, even? I think it might be lonely--" She cut herself off, the light in her eyes darkening for a second. Did she want to die, or was she just being particularly reckless today? A sweep of her hand and she's turned towards him, maintaining a faux sense of eye contact. "Forgive me, that was rude. I did not mean to imply anything. Just that, as you say, you are easily the more approachable of our dear Espada." No venom coated her words, sung as sweetly as any. She was wary of the Espada, yes, but the King was the only person she held animosity towards; and only for his position on his false throne.

“You’re free to sit or stand anywhere, by the way. The couch is exceptionally comfortable.”

She nodded, bowing once more, no tremor to her hands though they wanted to shake at the situation she was in, the trouble she might found herself if she didn't play this just right. Just perfectly.

"You would be correct, then, that I did not come simply to see you; though you would be wrong at the same time, if you forgive how impolite that accusation is. I do want to see you, and that was the goal here. I did not, however, plan for you to see me. It is... an idle curiosity in you." She wanted to bite her tongue, to stop the words, but she knew the truth was the only way he would trust her. She just had to be careful not to give all of it. "You are... peculiar, in the kindest sense of the word, in comparison to the rest of our species--and you know this, I am sure. I wanted..." She struggled to articulate this well enough for him, eyes down-casting and then returning to his face, not certain how much of her confused expression was part of her own game and how much was genuine.

"To find out why, I suppose. My intentions were to do so... quietly, and without threat." Either you to me, or me to you.

---

Word Count: 1339

GP Count: 26

/Total: 56

Little musing of fear and anxiety played along her reiatsu like a cat after a mouse, perpetually chasing each other. This wasn't just the kind of fear that came from seeing someone who was so much more powerful than you though. His reiatsu was suppressed, she wouldn't be able to feel it and because of that she wouldn't be affected by the reflexive fear that would have struck her by the sheer difference in their spiritual might. No, she was afraid because of something he might find out. Something about what she wanted to know could be dangerous to her, or at least she perceived it that way.
 
Whether it was actually dangerous or not was a different question entirely, and one whose answer was as of yet hidden.
 
Even as he let the tea seep, Takua noted idly that she didn't know what language it was she spoke. Not one of the Arrancar who remembered their past then, a pity. Her reiatsu was sparking memories though of his time in the barracks. She'd been there when he'd first arrived twelve years ago. A relatively short time ago for him, how long was that for her? If Romanian was the language of her human soul, then she couldn't be more than a few hundred years older than him. But if he had to guess, looking at her and analyzing her reiatsu, he would have put her age at a few centuries. Younger than him for sure. He could test that, find out how old she was by seeing her response to something he could say...but not yet. The opportunity hadn't arisen, and was really just idle curiosity right now.
 
She didn't reply to his question as to whether she wanted tea, or what kind, so he left the empty cup to sit on the table as an open sign. Leaning backwards against it just slightly, the Primera kept one blind eye on her reiryoku. Not moving yet. She wasn't trying for any kind of play with her power- maybe she figured it wouldn't be effective on him? Or was purely combat related. Either one could be possible. Her most predominant emotion right now was curiosity- an odd emotion to have right now, but one that might be explained shortly. To be fair, if she was anything like the cat she resembled...
 
Her confirmation of his points brought only a slightly wider smile to his face, but there was no smug quality to it. Just satisfaction of sorts. It was always pleasing to be right about something unless it was something you didn't want to be right about. The flattery was completely ignored. He might be approachable and not prone to emotional outbursts of anger, but that didn't exactly help most of his relations with Arrancar very well.
 
Her own, obviously reflexive response to what he said brought a far broader smile to his face. If only she was correct, but the exact opposite was true. And as she cut herself off and apologized, Takua couldn't help but chuckle. “Oh if only that were true.” But there was no offense on his face or in his voice, no anger that she assumed life would be better for him. Why wouldn't she? He was Primera. Life must be grand indeed for the man at the top, for the most powerful Arrancar in Las Noches. He only had to command, and it would be done.
 
But you couldn't command friendship, and there were few Arrancar who did not grate on him in some way.
 
She finished speaking, and for a long moment the blind man simply regarded her with a calm stare which could be felt even without the eyes to look. There was some truth there, he could feel it. But he could also feel the hidden undertone there. She wanted to know not simply for idle curiosity. Oh yes, this woman could lie with the truth. That in itself was valuable.
 
The question itself...
 
New. Interesting. Ironically related to what she had tried to say before only to stop herself. A wry smile slipped onto his face as he considered what she had said. Why he was different, hmm? Not really an answer that even he knew for sure, although he had his suspicions. A lot of them. But not all of those were ones he even wanted to share with little Cheshire. But, as it happened, he did have an answer for her.
 
“We'll actually start with your rather wrong supposition that I have friends or allies. I have none. I am not sadistic, I dislike killing, I no longer eat souls and dislike having had to do so. To put it bluntly- I am the worst example of an Arrancar you can find. As a result,” Takua shrugged as though he wasn't bothered by anything he was saying, “I have no friends among the Arrancar. I rarely get along with my own race. But then, I spent eight hundred years alone as a Hollow. It's something I'm used to.” That was when he watched for her reaction. Would she freak out understanding that he was old even among the Hollow-breeds? Or would she take it with as much coolness as he'd said it?
 
“I am not Hollow enough for my own kind. Whoever heard of a Hollow that cares for the life of humans? Someone who could heal them?” His smile twisted, morphing into self-mockery as he stirred his tea. “But I am still Hollow. Still Arrancar. That makes finding friends elsewhere difficult for a number of reasons.” Takua chuckled, the sound hollow as it echoed in the room. Difficult because of prejudice. But if he overcame that, then he would still hurt them. Somehow. It seemed to be his curse, to hurt his friends even as he tried to help them. Friends?
 
Hah. He wished.
 
Which brought this all back to the original question, “I'm peculiar because I value life, Cheshire. That's why I learned how to heal other people. I care that other people have the chance to live and strive for their dreams. As for why? Well, who knows? Could be any number of things.” The air seemed to sharpen as the Primera became more focused on the woman who stood in the center of his tower. Ready to bolt, ready to learn.
 
“Knowledge for knowledge, curiosity for curiosity. You are one of only a few Arrancar who have ever asked me why. It's peculiar in itself, really. Is it because you want to learn how I reached this level of power to do it yourself? Because you want to learn how to heal others? Or perhaps because you're wondering how such a bad Arrancar could possibly become Primera?” There was nothing hostile in his words or mannerisms, still leaning against a table as he took the tea bag out and took a sip without flinching at the steaming hot tea. It was indeed curiosity. But not idle curiosity, not what Cheshire had proposed her reason for being here was.
 
A faint smile danced across his face.
 
WC: 1181 | GP: 23 | Total: 65

“Oh if only that were true.”

It was a strange situation she now found herself in, standing nervously (both outwardly, for appeal, and inwardly for less innocent intentions) in the middle of the strongest Espada’s foyer. She had the nagging feeling her words weren’t coming out just right and that annoyed her. She had adapted to difficult events before; she had done many things and talked to many people, some even realistically more of a threat than Takua would ever be.

This didn’t stop her tongue from tying as her quick mind tried to process exactly what it is she should be saying to him. What did she tell him? What did she hold back? He didn’t seem easily offended, which was a good sign to her, but he also didn’t seem predisposed to manipulation through flattery or other means.

He wouldn’t be a game she could play, not on her terms, and she wouldn’t bend so easily under his presence as to give him the upper hand. They were at an impasse, even as the pleased calm in his voice gave away the fact that this was nothing to him. Not a game, maybe not even the best way he could of thought to pass his time for boredom. She felt the same way she made others feel, perhaps, when she was toying around.

It was okay when it was done to other people. She, however, would not be treated in such a way.

To him it was just another meeting, though she picked up hints of his own curiosity along the crevasses of his expression. It was hard, not able to see his eyes to draw emotions from the lights there or sniff around his reiatsu and see what reactions she could taste. She refrained, in that moment, from describing him as an opponent.

Whether she could play this or not, was it still a game? Or did this transcend that into… what? A legitimate conversation? No holds bar between them?

She couldn’t speak as freely as she might wish, and even he was being cautious, maybe, with his answers. No… cautious wasn’t the right word. He had nothing to fear from her; not from any indications she’s given him or, well, from reality itself. He was leagues above her in theoretical power but definitely in presumed social status.

This wasn’t a fight, so it had to be a game.

It was the only way she would be able to analyze this, relaxing through the passing seconds as she studies him as politely as she could and calmly set the chessboard up in her mind. Where were they, now?

“I have no friends among the Arrancar. I rarely get along with my own race. But then, I spent eight hundred years alone as a Hollow. It's something I'm used to.”

He too fell prey to the stigmatisms placed around their race, but in a rather drastic subversion of the stereotypical tropes. He saw himself as the black sheep out because of the reasons he stated above: all Arrancar must be sadistic, all Arrancar must like to kill, and all Arrancar must eat souls and enjoy doing so.

Whether he was the walking ‘anti-stereotype’ Arrancar or not, she had to blink here, a bit taken aback by his broad statement. He was clever--she knew that, he knew that. He wasn’t just another of the faceless, hungering masses, and she found herself questioning during their time together why he was not placed on the throne instead of Erasmus. (Going by the assumption in this hypothetical that she wouldn’t be able to take that place, of course. Also taking into account the fact she had yet to meet the new King since his induction into the higher ranks, and had never formally actually had the chance to familiarize herself with him with how fast (read: sudden) he got here and moved up.)

If he was so clever, though, what was he basing his opinions on? Cheshire had indeed met many Arrancar that fit those criteria--but hardly all of the race did, lest they still remained no more than Hollow. She was not sadistic, even in her manipulations, as she was driven not by hunger or violent urges but by her more literal and obsessive desires. She did not kill unless she felt it would better her situation, and hardly took great joy in it, though it could occasionally be entertaining under the right circumstances. She had quite a bit of blood on her hands, yes, but no one important and no one “just for the hell” of it.

This was implying, of course, that anyone was really important. She supposed her train of though there went by importance to others, not to her.

Souls she could not speak on devouring souls, but it was a necessary diet to retain her strength and no one missed the endless stream of Hollow that prowled these lands. If she didn’t eat her fill when the mood so struck her Shinigami would just dispose of what her meals would have been, otherwise.

Did this make her an “odd one out”, too? She was, simply due to the fact of who she was, but not because she was an Arrancar who didn’t indulge in the points Takua made. She was odd because she was the only who wasn’t--her own self importance elevated her above the rest of the lambs and put her up on the clouds.

Takua didn’t have that same position to speak from. She didn’t think him different because he lacked murderous ambitions, but because he fraternized in ways eering from the general populace. He had, on at least one occasion, allied with a mortal of no spiritual significance. Had taught him, and instilled feelings of genuine respect and admiration. He was even tempered and distant in a way that clashed with the other Espada, and he stuck around as a healer despite being the most powerful force of offensive power she could think of.

She was not surprised by his mortality because he didn’t kill and terrorize, but because of his lack of general arrogance, his lack of self-importance he seemed to hold.

She was surprised he had assumed otherwise, though even she could not fault the stereotypes he believed. They weren’t fully incorrect--just so in this situation.

Wait.

“Eight hundred years?” The question fell from her lips, expression kept cool and amicable even as her speech threatened to come out flabbergasted. That’s a long, long time, and she didn’t think she knew of a single other Arrancar that could claim to be so old. She wasn’t entirely sure of her own life span; but judging by the time she spent as a Hollow she had to have been at least 300 years old, in all reality. She had been here when he had showed up as an Arrancar, yet he had over 500 or so years of experience over her head?

She couldn’t tell if she was awed by his apparent ability to survive in such conditions--as life as a Hollow had never been easy or lacking in stress--or further loathed him for just another thing he could claim to be superior in.

Age.

What was age, anyways? They were all immortal. Time hardly mattered, she decided. “I am sorry to hear that.”

“I'm peculiar because I value life, Cheshire."

Was that… melancholy in his voice? Just another thing that took her by surprise, but she was beginning to roll with his punches, lifting a hand to press her open palm against her cheek and purr as she considered this information.

He desired friendship.

If nothing else, desires were something she could read. Desires would always be something she would know. There was, quite literally, no way to hide your desires from the coy cat who lived and breathed that concept.

He desired friendship, yet the implications of his race made that notion near impossible for him unless it was with another Arrancar. Did his dealings with Amaya scare him from those bonds, developing some sort of commitment complex, or was it really as he said? That he simply could not relate with how he viewed others and how they viewed him?

He did admit to caring for the life of mortals, which would be the particular reason why she had taken such a curiosity in him in the first place. She didn’t understand that and was mulling over how to ask on why, really, you’d value anyone’s life but your own--or mine, but we’re not quite to that point yet; are we, Takua?

Her feet shifted, toes prodding against each other. “Would you change it, if you could?” She was notably lacking in ‘sirs’, but had never much enjoyed that facade and realized after a period of constantly repeating the honorific it began to lose its effect and come off insincere.

So instead she asked one of millions of questions that she had, the piercing honey of her eyes not losing its amiable or mischievous edge. ‘Would you stop being an Arrancar and be something else’, was the meaning behind her question. Would you throw away your long, long life as a Hollow and the experiences you’ve had for a chance at this friendship--or would you change the way your breed, or you specifically, were seen by the rest of the various worlds?

She wasn’t being rude, nor was she attempting to be intrusive. This came through in the aria of her speech, nothing but honest curiosity. She knew he was watching her just as pointedly as she was watching him.

Her only way to win this game would be to not play.

She couldn’t do more than gather further notes on him and confirm (or deny) the ones she had before this meeting. This wouldn’t be a time she could touch on Jian, though she hoped Takua might find a way to bring him up anyways.

Or just the opposite? Did she worry he might and his scrutinization would give her away?

She still won in the end, as long as she left here with any new information--and she was already getting there.

“Knowledge for knowledge, curiosity for curiosity. You are one of only a few Arrancar who have ever asked me why. It's peculiar in itself, really. Is it because you want to learn how I reached this level of power to do it yourself? Because you want to learn how to heal others? Or perhaps because you're wondering how such a bad Arrancar could possibly become Primera?”

She matched his smile with one of her own, a perfect, friendly mirror that didn’t exactly do the same for her true reaction to his bold words. He could afford to be bold in this situation--she was the one who had to take precautions and value safety over brashness.

He drank his tea and she swallowed back the feeling that licked at her chest when she felt the way he became fully attentive on her. Nervous? No. She beat that feeling away with a flick of her ankle. No matter what, no matter around who, she was the Queen. She was so much more than what he might think of her right now, the cat and the bird circling each other around a board of tactical moves.

“That is only fair, domnule Primera.” It didn’t hurt to slip it in, every once in awhile. “I must admit my shock at being one of few to speak to you about these concerns. Or… no, they are not concerns, yet they carry the same weight--nu?” She was trying to pick her words carefully, adapting in the fluid way that she did when put under such immense pressure.

No matter what, she reminded herself, she was on top. No matter what. “I must politely decline the idea that I am attempting to follow in your footsteps. I mean no offense, but I think you would find we are very different people. I am not sure how I could emulate you even if I so wished to.” It wasn’t a thought she had entertained. She liked being herself. “Healing is also not my forte, though I have great respect for what you do.” Even if you aid those that would harm us, or harm me. Respect is such a strong word--it was more like furthered curiosity. “Your last point is the closest to home, but… Morality is subjective. You are bad because you are not ‘good’, nu, in your own eyes or those that would properly form opinions of you? You are different, yes, though I would disagree that it is because of the reasons you state; outside of one.

Your value of life, but not your aversions to killing. There is a very specific differentiation between those.” She allowed a bow, the smallest of curtsies to show her intentions were still not to offend.

“My reason for being here is exactly how you stated it earlier. I don’t judge your position as Primera because it is frank to see that you are the strongest in the lands in a regard that would place you there, and your ability to heal others is invaluable.” She wasn’t trying to speak as if he was a tool--but that was exactly it, right? He was one of the King’s tools, just like Sobek Septicemia and Souta Suzuki.

“I am here because I wondered about you, but you have been most gracious in answering my inquiries as of yet.” Did he suspect she had other motives? He wouldn’t be wrong, but she still didn’t wish him harm.

Not yet.

Not unless he did, her.

---

Word Count: 2165

GP Count: 43

/Total: 99

(It wasn't easy writing this again, but I think I like this version more. I hope it's okay!)

There was quite the little whir of thought in that head of her's, wasn't there? Her own intensity was hidden behind this facade of play and mirth, but when it came down to it there was quite the cunning mind behind it. Just like a cat, he supposed. Her sense of control was amusing, but when it came down to it he wasn't yet sure if there was good reason for her to feel ready and prepared. If he had to guess, though, her self-confidence was actually arrogance. Few people realized to what extent their reiatsu gave them away, and he didn't really feel like telling them how much. It was his hidden sight, one of the ways he relied on to understand the people around him. For a blind man that was priceless, especially when surrounded by so many people who had their own agendas. And Cheshire most definitely had an agenda. Her attempts to claim otherwise were adorable, but as false as a crusader's understanding of the religion he claimed to believe in.
 
There was umbrage at his assertion that all Arrancar were cruel. This was true, they weren't all cruel. He was speaking in generalities...and in general, most Arrancar were like the Hollow they had been before. There had been some Arrancar he had gotten along with. Amaya. Rania. Both were now dead. Truth he had never known well, but he was now a Transcendental anyways. But two real friends out of the whole of Las Noches were not many. Two friends out of the whole of the race since he had been a Hollow-breed was a tiny fraction of the race.
 
Interesting, though, that she clearly felt herself an exception to all he had described. Was that arrogance speaking? A lack of accurate self-assessment? Pure delusion? Or honesty? He was slowly beginning to understand the woman who stood in his tower. In particular the strain of...self-importance that permeated everything she did. Curiosity got the better of him, and for just a moment-
 
A regent sat on her throne, the bodies of her servitors prostrated on the ground beneath her. Hollow eyes, hollow throne. A glittering golden and platinum crown sat upon her head, to bright to be real, to valuable to exist. She- he- she sat with smoldering smiles and silver peals of laughter to the worship of the people before her- the shadow people. Souls that flickered in and out like smoke, insubstantial once her gaze had left them. Her dress sparkled, drawing every eye, but it was shaped just out of true. She wore it truly, but the body did not let it sit quite right. She didn't see that though, her eyes fixed on the smiles her court wore for her, her ears only for their pleasantries and flattery. Before her was wealth and splendor.
 
To each side of her sat desolation, the wasteland of the sands of Hueco Mundo stretching in all directions. The Queen couldn't see them, fixated as she was on the castle she saw before her. Bodies lay there, the discarded and forgotten. The gilded throne she sat upon was carried on the weight of shattered husks and broken swords. A haunting song rang through the chamber that ended just under the dais that elevated her above them all, one which caused the bones to stir as though in protest or veneration.
 
Beyond the walls of her court lay nothing. An abyss of blackness that failed to allow any light inside. Not that the Queen had eyes for it, not that she saw beyond the marbled walls in front of her.
 
If she had looked behind, the ruler could have seen the walls of her court end. Behind her the song turned to a needful dirge, shattered of its melody.
 
From behind, the Queen was nothing at all. Just the skin that faced the court.
 
Another would-be ruler then? Someone who saw themselves upon the throne. Not yet, no. But one day, it would her rightful place. He could feel it in every indignant moment that never crossed her face, the shock and sudden resentment when she realized exactly how old Takua was- how much older he was than her. She hid her shock well on the surface, but it was pointless against him. So too did her brief flicker of anger, of hatred, flash through him like a bolt of lightning. Her words next were...empty, or nearly so.
 
This woman thought herself above so many others. It amused him in some dark, Hollow way to see that. What was her Aspect, he had to wonder? That led her to such a pattern of thought that she was above all others. The longer she stayed the more he could see its influence. See how it rippled through her here and here? Or perhaps it was some other thought that galvanized such strong, assured emotions in her.
 
But given the state of her soul, he thought not.
 
Her question was interesting. There was subtext there, something which could have been any number of questions. His smile never faded even as he swirled his tea, watching the surface of the liquid move in waves as his echolocation mapped it. Which question should he answer? All of them, or just one or two? “Change what, exactly? People have good reason to distrust me. The Aspect of Death is insidious and can betray what was once a good friendship without my own intent. Even if I don't want to, it's easy to hurt them. Arrancar are very good at that. Better for them that they stay away.” His laughter was dark as he took a drink. He wouldn't go farther into it than that, but he had to find out exactly where her interest had sharpened. He had felt it grow...but what exactly had she wanted to hear?
 
“As for my own kind, there have been few. It's not as though we all follow the stereotype. But there aren't many I can be friends with, and those that were...well, they're gone now.” Only Rania and Amaya. Could Mazeura have been one? Maybe. Doubtful, but possible. “It would be nice to change that, but I don't see it happening.” It took a very unusual Arrancar for him to bond with them. The problem was mostly on his end and he knew it, but his own race was just...they grated on him. Somehow, someway.
 
He resisted the urge to smile just a touch more like the cat playing with the mouse when he felt the nervousness ripple through her. She might excel at hiding it behind a playful, personable mask, but it was there all the same.  A moment’s hesitation here and there as she thought carefully of what to say.  Oh yes, she hid something.  And now he had a fair idea of what she had focused in on, the reason for her visit.  Oh, there was a spark for that interest he didn’t know yet.
 
But he would.
 
He hadn’t anticipated she was trying to follow in his footsteps.  Her attitude was wrong for that.  That she didn’t know how to heal was sad but in the end a fifty-fifty shot or so…although she was wrong when she said she respected him for that.  More like wondered why he would do such a thing, and how.
 
Takua smiled a touch more warmly as she mentioned something else though.  His aversion to killing indeed.  There were…few Arrancar who tried as hard as he did to not kill. Rania had been one, Amaya had been one.  But still, not as hard as he had.  Maybe she was right, maybe that was the reason why he was so different from so many of his kindred.  “You’re quite right I suppose.  Certainly that’s the main one, although there are others…but those vary more by a person to person basis.”  His sightless gaze remained fixed on her, a touch lighter than it had been a minute earlier.  But he showed no signs of wanting to look anywhere else for the moment.
 
He could ramp the game up.  Tip his hand, get her flustered and uncomfortable by revealing he knew more than he had let on.  Make her guess what he might know and reveal more through her unspoken reaction.
 
Or he could keep going and narrow down the final options as to what she was truly curious about and why without doing that.  To be the cat playing with the mouse or  continue circling for the moment…
 
“No offense taken, by the way.  You shouldn’t want to be me.  It’s not a very comfortable existence.”  Takua snorted lightly, almost amused at the idea that someone could ever want to do what he had done, be who he was.  “But most Arrancar would enjoy being this powerful.  They just don’t know how to get there.”
 
Another Hollow signature, Arrancar by its nature, was charging at the tower doors.  His signature was far more chaotic, radiating pain, and it was clear what he was coming here for.  Takua moved easily, putting the cup down on the table and walking easily to the doorway, “And of course you’re one of the few.  Most Arrancar don’t care.  And when I say bad, I mean bad at being an Arrancar.  I do not eat, I don’t feel any bond with my race, and quite frankly I wouldn’t be here anymore if Erasmus hadn’t asked me to be a healer.”  The words were delivered without heat or rancor, quite naturally as he approached the open door.  “Plus, it’s as you say, most Arrancar do not value human or Shinigami lives.  I do.”
 
An Arrancar staggered into the tower as Takua reached the threshold.  Blood pumped from the empty hole where his arm had been, and its crimson color soaked the white uniform.  His face was pale and almost gray-ish, but Takua didn’t hurry any faster as he swiftly reached into his uniform and drew out a silver disk that was rapidly expanding to a sphere.  “One moment.  Duty calls.”  The reiatsu around the wound reeked of another Hollow, but not one that Takua recognized.  Probably just a scuffle that had ended with the victim in front of him injured and unable to heal the injury in time.
 
For just a moment, the immense weight of his reiatsu bore down on both his patient and Cheshire.  Suffocating in weight, the energy he had to pour into healing leaked past the suppression he used.  Sadly, regeneration was such a reiryoku hog that he hadn’t yet figured out how to conceal its use when pouring it into The Living Gift- the very act of transferring it to the device meant it was no longer contained within his body and in volumes far surpassing a simple Cero.
 
But it only lasted seconds, and then a white ball rolled out of the machine into his waiting hand.  Even as the sphere retracted back into a flat disk he could store easily, he placed the ball of regenerative reiryoku on the Arrancar in front of him.  It melted away…
 
And a few seconds later came a sudden outpouring of bone and flesh.  The body did not match the soul, and so Takua had made the two match again.  That was the theory behind it anyways.  All it needed was packaging and some purification- although that wasn’t necessary for the Arrancar in front of him.  A few words and the other Arrancar was heading back out the door with only a single speculative look cast at Cheshire.
 
The Primera smiled faintly and headed back to his tea quite as though he hadn’t restored a limb and healed a dying man in under twenty seconds.  “Curiosity hmm?  I see.  Well then, allow me to indulge you further.  I can heal the body of any race- Shinigami, Hollow, even a Mortal or a Quincy.  Without the risk of Hollowification, although Quincy are, hmm, harder to deal with in that regard.  And I’ve healed all of those races at one time or another.  It’s rather energy inefficient when compared with normal regeneration, but limbs and organs are within my power.  I’ve even saved a few people who’ve been outright dying, although that’s much, much harder.  Especially when they’re human.  Too much energy can still do nasty things to them, and the translation from soul to physical body is tricky.”
 
Trap, baited and set.  She didn’t even need to say anything.  He just had to feel her reaction.
 
“You know it’s funny though.  Two years ago I was only a touch more powerful than you- at least in terms of reiatsu.  The position of the strongest can change rapidly; very much at odds with our immortal life span.  It’s an amusing juxtaposition to me.”  He bore the title of the strongest, but that title was temporary.  In another year, another Arrancar could rocket ahead of him.  He found it unlikely, given his continued growth, but he knew it was a possibility.  One he was keeping an eye on, just in case that powerful person was a complete monster.
 
His eyebrows raised a touch as he reached his tea and turned around, taking a sip before speaking, “Have I satisfied your curiosity, Cheshire?”
 
There weren’t many other things she could be curious about.  Which one would spark the greatest reaction in her?
 
WC: 2226 | GP: 44 | Total: 109