Take Me Out [closed/TBTP]

Change has always been really hard. It involved work, fear, and a whole collection of awful things that Rainier would much rather have just gone without. You knew that things were changing when you worried, from one day to the next, what life would bring to the table or just outright throw at your face. Rainier never enjoyed that feeling, not then and not now. He tried to talk Anastasia down every time she brought up doing something about their more relaxed, under-the-radar lifestyle.

Eventually he ran out of excuses.

Deep down, beneath the scowl he wore at the time, he knew that she was right. She was usually right when it came to correcting him, just like he was usually right when it came to correcting her. This fact had kept both of them alive on more than one occasion when death would have otherwise sunk her nasty little claws in.

Tomorrow was the day, Rainier realized as he sprawled out on the old sofa. He sat in the middle of a wide open room with a central living area, a kitchen on one end, and a bedroom on the other. The construction of Las Noches had kept up with the times and provided the only modern amenities that one would find in all of Hueco Mundo. While the filthy Shinigami had their Rukongai slums, the Hollows had and needed nothing. The only bastion of civilization—built and rebuilt primarily by Arrancar hands—was the monolithic presence of Las Noches.

That, of course, didn’t mean the Privaron received the best furnishings. An old, ratty, red sofa with an equally old center table. The kitchen was made of old appliances, faulty wiring and plumbing, and the bedroom was just as dilapidated. The walls were a plain, sterile sort of off-white and the cold floors were made of the same material.

When a knock sounded at the door, Rainier knew exactly who it was. He leaped from the sofa to his feet and let his classic Las Noches outfit—the very same he had since becoming a Privaron Espada—settle against him. After he padded over to the door, Anastasia stormed in of her own accord.

The sight of her in a dress, her demanding mouth running right away, put a huge smile on his face immediately. He kept the grin up as she pressed him for reassurance on their plans for tomorrow. He laughed at the idea that he’d back off, no matter what kind of dress she was wearing.

“You won that fight already, remember?” He chided her. “I’m in. We’re doing this, no matter what. And for all you know, I might surprise you.”

She hadn’t been wrong when she said he’d like her outfit. He most certainly did—how couldn’t he? After so long together, a little variety most certainly added a new spark and pleasure to their lives. Even when it was as simple as a dress.

Given this fact, he knew exactly why Anastasia tired of their lifestyle. It had been a few years like this and they had done nothing but lounge about and fight the occasional intruder in the walls. How many times had the destruction of the entire castle, that they were powerless to prevent, ripped their lives asunder as well?

Rainier walked away from the door and beckoned for Anastasia to follow him back to the sofa. He took his spot back, the same spot he had sat in for years with her, and got comfortable. He spent more time in here than his own private quarters and none of the other Privaron—even back when Tova himself had once been among them!—bothered to use it for themselves. They enjoyed relative isolation, though Rainier thrived on it far more than his companion and lover.

“It doesn’t look like you brought my new outfit,” he sarcastically teased after he sat down. It was a good way to stomach the anxiety and fear that had kept him completely depressed all day. “Have you gotten tired of my clothes too, after only a few years? I can hardly keep up with your changing tastes as it is, Ana.”

*****

705 Words/14 GP
Total GP: 14 GP

She could see it the moment he met her stare. That hidden anxiety -- terror -- that had surely been festering in his gut all day. He could smile and beam down at her until his cheeks fell off, but they had been together for far too long for it to actually work on her. In fact, she was a little shocked he thought for even a minute he could get away from it.

Still, she played along and stepped over to the couch with him, sitting neatly at his side with one leg tucked under her body, the other hanging off the couch lazily. She fell into his side in the same way she always did when they sat on that crusty couch, his arm falling over her shoulder in a light embrace.

It had her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“You know,” she began with a drawn out tone, her blue eyes looking off in the distance as she prepared the obvious comment. “You’re not very good at hiding your emotions, Rain.” She batted away all of his attempts at playful gestures with just a few words.

Her hand reached across his lap and snatched his free one, her fingers easily wrapping around his own as she pulled it into his lap. Giving his hand a firm squeeze, she shifted her position to look at him. Her large, known blue eyes searched his for a while, an impassive expression hinting at that calm before the storm he was surely getting more and more used to over the past few years.

It was right there -- right on the tip of her tongue. It would be so easily to lay into him and tease him for being scared of something that should have been mundane for them. Hell, it had been mundane. It wasn’t like she had asked him to do anything he hadn’t done before. When had his insecurities piled up so much that the mere thought of leaving las Noches actually scared him?

“I don’t get you sometimes,” she sighed, the anger fizzling into disappointment. “We’re just going to be killing some prey. A dinner date. What’s got you all in a fluster? We were Espada. Among the strongest Arrancar to walk the land. Even now we’re still a threat to 95% of everything out there. Don’t you miss being on top of the world? The rush? The fame?”

Her hand had tightened around his as she spoke, her pleading eyes never once stopping their search for an answer. In a lot of ways, despite her exasperated tone, it was a sweet moment. In place of what would have normally been a heated spat used as an excuse to blow off steam was instead of gentle moment of her clearly explaining her stance and instead of demanding, she was asking for an answer.

Maybe they were both starting to make strides towards improvement.

“You can’t sit there and say you didn’t enjoy all the fighting. The way we worked so perfectly together -- the fear it brought,” she couldn’t help but smile at the thought, her spirits lifting as she recounted the glory days. “Together we fought better than any single person. We’re unlike anything that had ever happened to las Noches. Why are you so happy to let that fade away?”

“Why are you running away all of a sudden?"

[561. 11]
[24]

It never worked. In his entire life he had never managed to hide something from Anastasia. She found it, hunted it down like fresh meat, cornered it, and struck with all of the ferocity of a starving predator. That’s what they both were, deep down. Starving predators, Rainier especially. And bit by bit Anastasia pressed harder to learn what had changed for him. Over the years he pushed back, just enough to delay the inevitable.

But they had not gotten here by delaying the inevitable. They treated each other, without fail, like any other target worthy of being hunted. If one of them hid behind thin excuses, the other attacked. If one of them made a poor decision, the other dragged them away from it. If one of them ran away, the other screamed them back into the game if that’s what it took.

For years, that’s what Anastasia had done.

Now, when it came time to do or die, Rainier still hesitated. It turned his stomach. He disgusted himself at times and this was exactly why.

When she drove the words home like a dagger, he snarled at her.

“You think I’ve forgotten?” He bit right back at her. “Do you think I don’t remember the thrill of breaking someone down, piece by piece, and watching their hope die in their eyes?”

Hugner dripped from his voice. He did remember it, and he wanted it back. His green eyes had begun to glow, as they so often did when Anastasia and him collided like this. He should have expected one last showdown with her before the day came and yet he, like he had for years, lazed about Tres Cifras and thought the day would come in peace.

Another foolish mistake.

His hand tightened with hers as she held his. It was their own way, no matter what they said to each other, of providing a physical reminder of what side they were on. No matter what happened, no matter what the other said, that little gesture said everything that needed to be said about their loyalty. As long as they had that, they would never doubt the other.

“But things changed, Anastasia,” Rainier almost growled the words at her. “The Espada are like gods these days! Evelynn Avana—the most prominent Arrancar in this castle—is as powerful as Sōgetsu! I’ve felt her from all the way out here at the literal edges!”

Rainier didn’t even realize it when his arm snapped out to point in the general direction of the innards of Las Noches. The two of them lived in the hollowed-out wall that the dome sat atop of. It was massive, the castle, easily large enough to house an entire human nation and all of its people. The wall was, then, appropriately huge as it encased the inner desert and the homes of most of their people.

“And the King! Have you felt that, for even the briefest moment?” He strained on the words, quinted at her, tried to get her to understand. But he knew what her response would inevitably be.

“I don’t regret enjoying the comfort and security of our previous Kings and Queens,” he declared. In all the years here he had never bent on that subject. “But I’m ready to get out there again—I meant it when I said it. We have to because, if we don’t, our number will come up.”

Resolve burned behind his bright green eyes. He felt good about his answer. He always felt good when he sparred verbally with her like this. He enjoyed their physical spars too, something they took to just to pass the time. Even though Anastasia didn’t regenerate like he did, she healed quickly enough on her own. The perks of being a creature as powerful as an Arrancar.

He bared his teeth when he turned his snarl into a full-toothed grin. Rainier leaned forward, just to get into Anastasia’s personal space, and held the smug look he remembered having in decades past. He squeezed her hand lightly, a silent dare to fight back.

“More than that, I think I’ve just missed you covered in a little red,” he ever-so-confidently growled at her.

It was, they both knew, mostly bluster. But more than it did yesterday, more than it did a week ago or a month ago, it came from a place of honesty.

The thought of ripping apart a human spiritualist and devouring them excited him, more than it ever had. This lifestyle of quiet retirement in the walls of Las Noches had begun to lose its luster long before Rainier agreed to hunt with her again.

Her offer had just been the last straw.

*****

785 Words/15 GP
Total GP: 29 GP

“You know,” she began quietly in the face of his bared grin. “If we hadn’t been wasting away our days here, we’d be twice as strong as anyone here.”

She’d take the bait for a fight any day. The rush -- the passion -- that came with a good spar was literally the only thing keeping her going these past few decades. If he ever caved just a tiny hair, or showed any signs of “yeah, okay, we can fight”, she pounced, all but drooling over the idea.

And, well, with that came a fair share of verbal banter.

“So you can cry and moan all day about how strong Evelynn Avana and the King are, or you can put your spear where your mouth is.” Her hand slipped from his so she could accentuate a large shrug, palms facing the ceiling. “Because, honestly, I think the moment we get out there you’re going to jump at the sight of a pebble.”

She couldn’t help but flash him a grin, her blue eyes sparkling with barely controlled excitement. Without another word, she hopped up and began walking to the door, waggling a finger playfully as she chided him.

“So, Rainy-poo, are you going to laze about on the couch until it’s time to go.” Her hand fell onto the door handle, gently pushing it open. “Or are we going to have a little fun.”

She tilted her head just enough to peer over her shoulder, her white hair hiding the smug little grin.

[251. 5]
[29]

She’s not wrong, Rainier realized. That fact alone made him grind his teeth out of frustration.

“Or it would have killed us,” he lashed back out at her, but without the conviction or power he had a moment ago. Those simple words out of her left him deflated. He had lost that argument for a reason—this was it. For all of the reasons he had, for all of the reasons she entertained over the past few years, the real problem had always been that Rainier didn’t feel like they could keep up.

Anastasia, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care in the slightest. She would have taken every Espada that has come and gone sense, even if she lost her arms and legs—she would have bitten them to death or died trying, if that’s what it took. Rainier chose the safe route and now he felt backed into a corner, out of excuses.

Luckily for him, Anastasia didn’t push the point or embarrass him further. She knew when she had won and nonchalantly made her way back to the door she had come in just a moment ago. This time, though, she beckoned for Rainier to follow.

That put a smile back on his face.

“I won last time,” he reminded her with no shortage of pride in his voice. “Are you sure you want to give me two victories in a row?”

The two had never stopped fighting. It was never because they found themselves enemies, though. It was part of their relationship, to its very core. They were Arrancar and spilling blood, even each other’s, was simply part of their nature. Whether Anastasia realized it or not—because Rainier most certainly did—it had been part of what enabled Rainier to remain in the background this entire time.

In light of his own anxiety, though, he would never have dreamed of turning her offer down. He rose from the couch with as much energy as she possessed as they both walked out the wooden door—Rainier grabbed the primarily black spear that leaned up next to it—and closed it behind them.

The design of Tres Cifras was simple: There were four gates into the wall of Las Noches, one for each cardinal direction just like in the Soul Society. This connected to a single, unified hall that slowly curved with the wall, right through the middle. It stretched to the very top of the wall where huge, bright lights were installed to illuminate the gray space. The only color came from the richly finished, wooden doors and their golden handles that sparsely populated the inner wall, the various quarters for the various Privaron that lived within.

Other than that, the only other fixtures were the open archways that led into the inner desert. Rainier and Anastasia weren’t near one of those—they’d have the entire hall to themselves.

Luckily for them, Las Noches was truly massive. Even that inner corridor was wide enough to easily fit Rainier’s spear in combat, designed with the Resurrección of Arrancar in mind. They could, after all, get rather large.

It made for the perfect, simplest arena for the two of them over the past seven years.

Rainier spun his spear in his hand and listened to the satisfying whistle it made as it cut through the air. He traded the spinning weapon between both of his hands before it came to a sudden, abrupt stop that vibrated the supernatural metal in his right hand. The ring echoed down the hall and Rainier took a few steps back from his white-haired partner.

“In light of my previous victory,” he laughed and emphasized the word, just to see if it could wiggle under her skin. Slowly he bent down at the knees to take a ready position, his dominant hand near the bottom of the spear while he used his left to aim the blade. “I’ll give you the first move, those are our rules. I won’t budge until you do, so make it count!”

The anxiety from before had all but evaporated, replaced by thrill and anticipation that swelled in his chest.

They knew each other all too well.

*****

700 Words/14 GP
Total GP: 43 GP

Of course she was right -- she was always right when it came to most things. As smart and cocky as he tried to be, Ana wasn’t entirely convinced he was the brains of the two. After all, who had been the active party every time they made a change for the better? Who had always been the one to push for growth and the general betterment of their lives?

Well, maybe it wasn’t entirely on her, though she definitely was in the lead over the past few centuries.

As she stepped out, her practiced hands grabbed the bow that had been leaning by the door and held it at her side. She didn’t even need to face him to see that eager grin and know he was more than ready. Even if he had won last time and probably had a better track record than her, it never stopped them both from having their own dick waggling contests.

“I’ll have you know,” she chided, her voice echoing off the empty halls. “You only won last time because you got lucky and disarmed me. I won’t fall for that trick again!”

He had teased her endlessly about her butter fingers after that small mess up, ensuring that her pride suffered just enough so it wouldn’t happen again. It was their own sort of way of looking out for each other -- especially when the adrenaline of a fight was still wearing off them. After all, even though they were mostly just for stretching the muscles and letting off some steam, the fights were still just that: fights. Lessons to be learned, techniques to perfect.

That was the main reason she so thoroughly enjoyed them, even if she was probably the weaker of the two despite all the focus she put into it.

She she turned to face him, she raised her bow up, finger grabbing at the string as he too readied himself. The rainbowed feathers perked up and swayed at the feeling of her Reiatsu, ready to focus in her spiritual powers and once again remind Rainier why she was the best sniper in all of Hueco Mundo -- perhaps even among even the Quincy!

The only problem? Rainier was fast. Faster than she could honestly keep up with when he put his whole heart into it. The first shot he was giving her was meaningless. Even if she tried to predict how he would move, it wouldn’t do much good.

Before he could laugh at her for taking too long, her bow was up and with it a line of spiritual energy formed -- an elongated Bala focused in on itself by the help of her bow. Without any hesitate, a shot flew straight for her chest, daring him to dodge. The very second she even got a hint of his movement -- even if it was just her own mind playing tricks on her -- she shot another in that direction.

Even if the second wiffed, at the very least it’d be a decent distraction, right?

[503. 10]
[39]

It was true: The last time the two of them came to blows, things had gotten dicey. Rainier managed the win only because he had torn the bow from her hands. When it came to raw physical strength, Rainier towered over her. However, she could also shred his Cero with her Bala as if he was throwing clouds at her. And even when he did get in close, she was quick and precise enough to deflect the swings and thrusts of his spear with her Bala as well.

At times, her sheer skill was downright infuriating. He could only imagine the frustration of their opponents when they fought Rainier and Anastasia together. The memories, and the thought that they’d be doing it again soon, brought a sly smile to Rainier’s face.

Maybe that was what tripped her off, maybe it wasn’t, but at that very moment a streak of blue shot from Anastasia’s bow. It shrieked down the hall and Rainier, complete with the static whoosh of his high-speed movement, vanished from place. He reappeared on the wall, crouched against it like it was the floor, his spear ready to be hurled down the hall.

The next flash of her Bala got to him first. Before Rainier had a chance to counterattack he was forced to leap from the wall again. He twisted his body upside down in the middle of his enhanced leap and landed on the opposite wall just like he had the last.

In the moment of peace after he touched down against the stone, he could see the hole in the wall across from him that her Bala had punched into the stone. He marveled at it for a moment—she had, somehow, gotten even more powerful. Normally her Bala didn’t do that kind of damage.

Compared to Anastasia he knew that he was much less durable. While she could take a beating, but not heal from it like Rainier could, he couldn’t at all. It would take some effort to smash her into submission while Rainier himself didn’t have that kind of flexibility. He knew it all too well—it had cost him far too many of these fights, as much as he hated to admit it.

Just like last time, he would have to end this quickly if he had any hope of ending it at all. Sheer, overwhelming force would be able to put a stop to her. Anything less and he increased the chances of him taking a hit that he couldn’t handle, and that would be the end of it for him.

She had gloated enough today, Rainier decided, and he wouldn’t give her the pleasure of another brag.

Without another moment’s hesitation he drew back his spear, still perched on the wall and held tight against it from the moment of his last leap, and pitched it down the hallway. It moved fast and efficiently enough that, like her Bala from before, it shrieked through the air as it went straight at her.

Rainier had other plans, though. He was faster than he was strong and, right after the metal spear left his hand, he vanished from the wall. He rushed right past the spear in mid-air, right past Anastasia, and slammed his feet into the floor for a sudden, loud stop right behind her.

In his outstretched hand already glowed the crimson red of his Cero, pointed directly at her back. It shined off his wide eyes and contracted pupils, focused entirely on the woman in front of him. As close as they were, when it came time to fight, they both reduced the other to nothing more than a target. Nothing more than prey.

And then they’d banter about it later. Rainier wouldn’t trade what they had for the world.

But when the red finally erupted from his palm, he decided that he’d very much prefer it if she was charred and toasty first.

*****

656 Words/13 GP
Total GP: 56 GP

She missed. Both shots whizzed by him harmlessly, earning a deep scowl from her. It didn’t matter how close that second one was, or the look of shock that crossed his face as he glanced back to the destruction. At the end of the day, she had completely and utterly failed to hit both times, no matter how prepared she felt she was.

That was the struggle of fighting her beloved. He was just too fast. No matter her skill and tactics, she was always a step behind simply because she couldn’t keep up. It was a frustrating obstacle that she had been desperately working to overcome for what felt like an eternity.

But she couldn’t let the rocky start catch her off guard. Her eyes snapped to the other side of the hall, bow training on him as best as possible. She did have one advantage over him -- one she was happy to remind him of. While their spars had always been in good fun, one of the two took it far more seriously and it certainly wasn’t the one who wanted to waste his life away in the hall.

She saw the little gimmick before he even threw his spear and by that knowledge, she was able to react. Only because she moved before he could reappear did she find herself facing him as he touched down behind her, her bow aimed right at his face. The single thing that could potentially screw things up was the spear, but she didn’t worry about it right now.

As Rainier let out his Cero, he found it split in two by her own Bala that aimed straight for his face.

The the red glow nipped at the sides of her arms and charred the ends of her hair, she was essentially unscathed by his “clever” little attack. Even if it did come at the price of his spear now lodged into her back, just millimeters from shattering her shoulder blade.

“Nice try,” she scoffed, arm shaking a bit from the pain, but she was otherwise in good health. “Hit me once, shame on me. You know the old saying.”

She reached around her back and grabbed at the spear, easily ripping it out of her flesh and holding it in her spare hand. She’d be a fool to leave it in her back not only because it limited her, but because she knew all too well how Rainier liked to shoot his fancy Cero out from it.

Taking just a few moments to move back a few feet, she eyed him and waited for him to make his next move. Disarmed, out smarted, and definitely in a corner, his only plan of action had to be trying to rocket the spear from her hands. At least, that’s what she assumed, her grip light enough to let it easily free itself and not cause any harm. Though, she kept her fingers ready enough to use it as if it was her own should the situation arise.

“You’ll have to come up with some new tricks if you wanna win this round.”

[520. 10]
[49]

In such a tight hall, at such close distances, he saw and felt the way her more concentrated Bala split open his Cero. He watched it burn along the walls and turn everything in front of him into a storm of red energy that ate away at the world itself. In a way, that was very much the nature of a Cero—a Hollow’s consumption in its purest form.

But she ripped it open nonetheless.

From his position behind the Cero, Rainier couldn’t see it coming. When it finally broke through, it cracked him right in the mouth and snapped his head back. He held there for a moment, dazed, as he caught his balance. When he slowly tilted his head back down, he was grinning right back at Anastasia despite his bloody lip.

“New tricks, you say?” He mocked her words with a wild smile and licked away the blood she had drawn. “I thought I showed you some a few nights ago. Maybe I should find someone more appreciative?”

Talking about that where someone else could hear? He knew how possessive Anastasia was and knew exactly how to get under her skin. All the time they had spent together had taught them nearly everything there was to know about the other. They still managed to surprise each other once in a while, of course, but it was few and far between.

When he noticed her lips snarl just slightly, that’s when it started. The moment the spear left his hands, Rainier had begun to use one of the newest things he had learned. Cero energy burned along the entire weapon—he could even concentrate it at the tip, if he so wished—in a thin veil for a moment before the entire weapon erupted with the fiery, dark red energy. Even when it was out of his hands, he could still funnel the power of his soul through it. It was part of him, after all, whether he touched it or not.

That’s when he heard her skin hiss as it burnt. If that didn’t sting, she was tougher than he gave her credit for.

With a bright and painful distraction, Rainier leapt right back into action. He charged forward and kicked off the left wall, then the right, until his trajectory brought him right up into Anastasia’s face. With a flash of his sharp, white smile, he shoved his right hand forward just in time for the gathered ball of Cero to erupt forward with just as much force as the last.

*****

425 Words/8 GP
Total GP: 64 GP

His comment made something inside of her snap. Eyebrows pulled down in a deep glare as her shoulders tensed up for a moment. Someone else? She was ready to tear him limb from limb just by even joking about that. Didn’t he realize who he was with? She had already started to bring up his spear before he could let out another witty comment. If he wanted to act like that, then she’d rip him apart with his own spear.

She didn’t even so much as flinch when she felt her skin literally melting against the glow of the Cero. It was an afterthought with his words fresh in her mind. If anything, it gave her more determination to harden the skin around her hand, blocking off as much of the burn as she could.

Her eyes snapped around to follow him, always trailing just a second behind because hot damn he was fast. Faster than she remembered, honestly. Or maybe she was just getting slower? The idea seemed ludicrous, though not entirely impossible. Though, none of that mattered. She knew from the start that she wouldn’t be moving around that much. She would be an impassable wall to his attacks.

So when the Cero consumed her, burning at her flesh, she only let out a roar and lunged forward, spear in hand. Twirling it just enough to point the tip at him, she sliced through the blast of the Cero, using it as cover while she aimed to strike right at his throat -- or as close to it as possible. After all, she could barely see.

The burn of the Cero had scalded her eyes, burning away her vision temporarily and singeing at her face. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was in a lot of pain -- especially given how the movement aggravated her shoulder wound, but at this point she didn’t care.

All she cared about was painting the walls with his blood and reminding him who he belonged to.

[335. 6]
[55]