Arrancar? [closed]

It is said that the stars are long gone, but took their time to fizzle out. Something about time being different depending on the distance but it hardly matters for the Arrancar. Why bother with the deep schematics of life when you’re already dead. Leave that to the living that had disposable time on their hands. But even the nihilist stood idly still to admire the moonlit skies, stars and false beacons that pierced through the barriers of unnatural light. These contraptions, this guidance for the meek and entitled flock had always shown their selfishness time and time again. Let’s ruin nature’s progress by adding these light that reduce night into an optional blight. With a casual step of her boot, the twisted hiss noise, the sound of bala ignited and swooped towards the night bane, breaking the glass and the bulb into a frizzled frenzy. The spark of lightning and the light dropped into the darkness. Bullet always seems to drop something into the ground or into the nothingness all too sudden, all so final, she theorised.


One after another, with her left hand, with her index finger pointing out, aiming at the lamp and one by one - as she walked on by on the road – it goes out. Leaving behind a trail of darkness, A.H retracted a route that used by a person of importance. She had been aware of human being having seen the dead before, and even had capability of fighting back with their own ‘claws and fangs’ but there were one group that always eluded her for so long. Her thought drifted into the men and women who go by the bow to vanquish hollows, she witnessed one with her own eye. They didn’t go away the same way as Shinigami dispatch, it was more...

Final.

Her sudden halt was justified in her own sense felt the lamp was wrongly spared. Her bala prowess betrayed her, it must be rectified. It was remedied with a forceful stomp of her soldier’s boot; the metal frame quaked so violently, so unsettlingly that the fragile bulb - the beacon of guidance - busted within the sturdy Plexiglass. No matter how you do it, it will be casted away all the same. Her Trench overcoat shifted out of her lithe frame, threatening to flitter by from her shoulder but not so fast, comfort and embrace is demand for the masked Arrancar and righted with her Bala firing hand. The flicker of her coat flashed a glimpse of her second Zanpakuto, the shotgun brazened ever so slightly against the light ahead of her, but that too sunk into darkness by her Bala shenanigans.


But the light was not the only one that shines ever so brightly, It was so far but yet it feels so near the empowering presence reek of pomp that she is aware of, but what if she wonder. The red eye flashed when the eye lid lowers and rise with a jilted backlash. That feeling when you were so excited for a toffee apple from the wandering sweet merchant but the fat, plump kid took the last one – that feeling. She was left addled with the threat that her original target, the bow wielding femme finale (she liked the pun), fled. A.H was nowhere near the location of the bluebird with the bow when this unwanted attention arose, but she does the smart thing. She stood still. The lights ahead of her were spared, leaving with one side of her body blanketed in darkness and her revealing sharp eye gazes at the oncoming pressure.


Closer, closer, and closer like the stream of water slowly coursing around the bathtub, preparing for its fill and it all it need was an herbal bath bomb to take shape of a soothing relaxant, its presence. That’s when her eyes bathed at the Shinigami and she liked what she sees. A soul with a sword, the black robes, the being belonging to the one thing that remotely resembles a military organisation, the Shinigami, oh! It is a lovely evening for the hunter. It excites her to see the pompous but proper presence comes to view. The lone eye soaked in her appearance, the beauty, the striking appearance matched with her smooth curling hair trailing down to her side. In contrast she looks nothing like the Shinigami, but yet… if she could put in an effort, perhaps could be just as beautiful as she is. Then again, what is beauty to the Arrancar? With messy clump that’s her white hair and the grey tam hat hiding the worst of it and the pale skin hinders the feminine jawline. The upper lip moved, preparing a curt shrug against her demands, who is she, the Shinigami ask? The air seeped from her lips as words formed into a crude, light restrained Celtic accent filled the scene…


“Nothing,” she responded. She couldn’t be far from the truth. Hollows are negative soul, all the sweetness and the juiciness of a Toffee Apple along with the stickiness for living taken out of her, leaving with bitterness and jealousy.

But that will do for now... “Just nothing, why, are you disappointed?” the stoic hunter responded once more. She felt like tonight is going to be a very active and lasting night, like the stars that long since passed existing.


[word count: 891]
Saya