A Journey's End [A.H./Closed]

Silence, if silence brings such melody, why sing? The desolate breeze of air fooled the senses. Is it the strange joint effort of the arrancar’s mind and nature to drum up a loose melody to lull the bulky form into a standstill? All the worlds, even the deadlands were constantly moving, singing into their own tune, no matter how fast or slow, the tune will always escape their form. It is inevitable. All being will abandon the ability to listen to the songs of nature just to hear their own. They’ll engulf the air around them, stifle their sounds and to kick them to the ground – bellows out at the top of their voice. Much like stars, they shine brightly, long after their existence ceased to be.


Ballad, blues, Baroque, Avant-garde, they all drown the air. Goth, Rock, Opera, Grunge, they all quake the ground. There’s no escape from hearing the egos and emotive tattle tale songs of beings.


But this very moment, it feels un-natural, like it is waiting for the build-up. The air is silent, the sense stopped playing tricks. To A.H it reminds him of Pavane pour une infant defunte.


Whose princess’ died? If that the case, please don’t play. Change is ever so frightening to swallow.


The skies remain as sombre and the moonlit night remained pale as the face of the white haired Arrancar. Its hair – white - remained uneven, messy – close to coil together in dread and a stray bang drapes from the right side. A.H felt exposed, but the skies looked away – its secret is them to keep, besides, who would listen? For the songs drown their silence.


Its attire, tightly woven to protect everything below its head and insecurity from the world, it hated judgemental glances, she hated that it only had an eye to deal with every –day chore. If it had a pair and a mask fragment in guise of eye patch, a broken piece of lower jaw with chipped fangs, the tattle tale feature of a predatory hollow. It stood by the entrance of the lowly branching tunnels leading to Hueco Mundo – one of few tunnels connecting between the wildlands of Hollows and the isolated desert.


And then there the airs that suffocates, that sense of grasp snatching away the fresh air from the being. Such ominous stench, lingers, creeping, swamping the surroundings. Something was coming, and judging from the size, it was enough for Lone Hunter to turn to face the entrance to the wicked forest. With a sudden clank of the helmet hang from the side of the arrancar’s belt, it remains oblivious to the fact that it pale feminine, face was exposed to the world. Its lips agape, filling itself a sense of uneasiness, what can it do? Will it hide or run? The newly molded Arrancar, unsure of what action to take: One side tells it to kill whoever that about to leak out of the entrance.

‘Anything coming out of it is bad and should be dispatched,’ goes the line of its instincts. But there’s another side, the more gentle nature that caress the fragile wall of apathy.


No, it began to pace itself towards the front of the entrance, holding tightly its trusty rifle close to it – hands at ready in case the air thickens with grief and death. Let’s see if that gentle nature leads to somewhere different than an abrupt end.


And so it watched.


And watched.


And watched…

It had wanted, for a long time, to exist for something beyond simply existing and in Red it had found something more than existing it had found conversation, and idea, and meaning. Friendship. That had been precious for a time but also deeply unsettling. As time grew on, although it did not know why it wanted to be away from Red. It still enjoyed the conversation, the share of ideas but there was something not right about that and then one day the creature was gone and the Nameless was alone, left adrift to continue on its way. It was a mixed blessing, to be alone, to feel the strange discomfort pass but know that it was once more alone. it feared losing purpose, the same that Red had arrived to give it. The rest of the Hollow beings it encountered were not like it, they did not wish to be its friend, and it did not wish to be there's. Hungry. They were too hungry to be friends.

The Nameless focused on this purpose instead of friends, and that salved the feeling of loneliness. It imagined, perhaps grandly, that this great purpose one was the reason it wholly existed, but now that it was here, what had been done? It was still drawn forward but with trepidation even going beyond why it had come, what if there was nothing of the imagined purpose when it arrived? What if it simply was? Then it would exist, and exist, for all time, go back how it was an...

A creature, something strange something new. It could taste it in the air, it consumed the essence as it oozed about it. It tasted soft, it tasted cold, it tasted pale and blue. It tasted Hollow, but it tasted like something entirely unknown too.

It had not spoken in some time, perhaps forever? Likely months? It's voice beckoned out just the same, echoed out from it, filled the air around it with its presence, deep, not masculine or feminine somewhere between. The dull yellow twin orbs in his eyes lit up bright, brimming as they began to swirl about, searching for the source of this strangeness.

"CREATURE."


"CREATURE WHERE ARE YOU? YOU ARE NOT LIKE THEM, YOU ARE NOT LIKE IT. WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU?"

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It felt something big approaching, but there’s no force approaching that signify the being as big. The empowering air tasted foul. It doesn’t belong in desolate desert. Whatever this thing is that’s approaching, it doesn’t belong here. Whatever it is, it was slowly lumbering towards the exit and out

Then it finally appeared. It couldn’t help but let out a curt grin. It has never seen something so pitiful, a hollowed giant so transparent it easily had blended into the pitch black tunnel if it weren’t for those two glowing yellow flash lights that the giant gaseous blob calls it eyes, it would’ve been the champion of hide and seek, granted if it hide in pitch black. A.H padded hands firmly grasped on the rifle, ready and primed in case the hollow dares to act according to their nature. Hollows are relentless and soul devouring creatures; they’ll do anything to quench their hunger.

Anything

A.H should know: it was once a hollow; it experienced the same cold world in it eye, the soul crushing hunger, the constant looming threat of stronger beings snatch away their very essence. Tough luck, try again – granted that the soul is free.

But that’s not the worst.

The worst is the crushing, bitter loneliness. To hollow it is a water off duck’s back. They have their hunger to contend with, but to an Arrancar. The ember of humanity demands that the being should converse, see new things, to settle. All those constantly nag to the masked hunter, screaming for change.

How can it change when world of despair crush it like a pitiful lone snail.

It hands tremble, if it wasn’t for the glove, the shake would leave a soft audible rattle. The giant smog is just another hollow. The Arrancar expelled the air from the opened mouth - ready to speak, only to be jumped upon verbally by the surprise visitor…

“Creature,” The tone from the shadow was mixed, not a male, or is it a female. It is as A.H expected, Hollows often care not of their gender, but the hollow mannerism, calling A.H a creature.

It is not a creature, hearing that being delivered at it was enough to express disdain at it. A.H cared little of its booming voice, but the content within the sound was enough to sneer.

I am no one's creature.

“You find no one here, whelp,” It voice raised and laced with bitterness, lacking in empathy. It doesn’t feel for the lost hollow, with its quaking hand suppressed, convinced that despite it towering presence, the beast lack the power brought upon him. If A.H had the right idea, it would end this black shadow with two yellow dots for eyes - free it from it journey from whence it came from.

Not yet...

“Return back to where you came from. You will find no one or nothing worth sating your worth, prey. Turn back and spare yourself from witnessing the new. Embrace the life that you have accepted, and never stop to sing joyful muses,” It mouth moves, its red eye cold as steel, void of all thought and accepted for what it is: a crestfallen hunter who prey on hollows.

It chose despair and the empty Hollow must accept despair for what it is.

The moment it spoke it could feel a shift in the energy it tasted. It was a bold taste, stronger than most beings it had encountered here, it couldn't get over the unique taste. Much of its concentration was put into this task that it almost forgot that it had attempted to reach out to it to begin with. Not unpleasant, or pleasant, a stranger in the truest sense.

It understood on some level danger, in spite of never encountering it, it knew that things could hurt it even without knowing what pain was. It was much the same as foreign ideas, concepts and things it had no memory of. The Nameless knew that these were memories which meant that it understood hurt because it had been hurt once before.

"FALSE" it declared, as muted in expression as it had before. Was this a joke? Red liked to joke, once in awhile, it actually grew quite tiresome, as it did not really understand the purpose. I nthis case, of course it had found someone, it had just addressed it. The sneering indignation in its voice wasn't entirely lost on the Nameless creature, it certainly understood that it had a tone but its meaning wasn't entirely clear, at least not yet. "I HAVE FOUND YOU."

The next reply was perhaps a bit more clear, at least in explaining what it had meant initially, the rest is confusing to the Nameless. What did it mean to sate one's worth? Why did it need to be spared from witnessing the new? What life had it accepted, what did it mean to sing to joyful muses? Bright yellow eyes flicker green for a moment, before turning back to their yellow color.

"I DO NOT UNDERSTAND," it began. "WHAT LIFE HAVE I ACCEPTED? WHERE IS IT I COME FROM AND WHY MUST I RETURN? WHAT ARE THESE MUSES AND HOW DO I SING TO THEM?"

It considered the creature's words further and recognized a word it had neglected. Prey. It's bright yellow eyes turned bright red, but only for a moment and they were back to normal. "AND HOW CAN I BE THE PREY OF SOMETHING TOO AFRAID TO STAND BEFORE ME? YOU HAVE SOME STRANGE NOTIONS, CREATURE."

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