The Palace of Monsters [OPEN]

The cold never really bothered her in the end. Flashes and snippet of memories converged from the victims that she consumed all had experienced bitter cold, so why bother now? The desert itself was just an endless sand with the occasional phantom noises to trick your mind. The only saving grace was the misshapen sand dunes but even those provided challenge for normal humans if they had the fortune of living long enough to reach here.

Out of sheer boredom, The Demon shotgun found herself walking on top of the long and winding wall with a bored look on her face. All she ever wanted to do was interaction, but it came apparent that the recent uninvited visitor had scared all the residents away, who could blame them when that said visitor had managed to dispatch the head of the previous Queen and Primera. Speaking of which, what happen to her successor? He made a lot of noise at the start, but he then vanished without a trace. She assumed that he was just as much of a coward as those who sided with the Espada, but then again, maybe they valued their accursed life more than she believed.

The wind ruffled her highlands attire, a replica of a uniform one worn by the First world war Scottish soldier with one clear notable difference – her grey tam hat to hide the murky white hair of hers. Her grey long coat drapped over her as to hide her “fang”, her bayonet Shotgun. She stoody idly by as the distinct sound of footsteps increases. Who would’ve thought that someone approached the breached wall would be waiting at the gate? She peered over the wall with a neutral expression on her face. Her boring look shifted into a smirk as another Arrancar arrived into view.

“You there,” her soft, Scottish accented voice rings out enough for the arrival to hear. She would hoped that the Arrancar had ears to listen, if not? Well, death would be better suited for the arrival. “You were too late. The Queen is long dead.” And with it, everything is wrong with this realm. What idiocy it is for one to declare themselves as royalty and demand that everyone to bend their knees.

Not I, Not A.H. The shattered memories taught her that obeying the King and country ends with broken dreams and ruined lives. If that the Arrancar seeks? If so, He will be surely disappointed.


Crowe Starazo

Crowe was on the precipice of stepping within Los Noches, when a soft voice called down at him from atop the castle's grand walls. As he took a half-dozen steps backwards to get a good look at the location of the voice, his right hand instinctively slid below his brown overcoat, gripping the short blade hidden beneath. He felt the urge to hide his face, draw attention away from his missing eye; but in al likeness, they had seen far worse. Finally, he caught sight of the voice's origin; a figure, seemingly feminine in appearance, leered over the wall down at Crowe; he ignored the smirk etched on her face. Her outfit was bizarre; he'd never seen anyone with such strange, foreign attire. He frowned slightly, scratching the back of his neck in habit when the figure mentioned the long absence of the Queen of Los Noches.
"...Los Noches had a queen? It makes sense, I suppose." Crowe thought with some interest. It made him think of back home, so many hundreds of years ago. "Even in this dead realm, the royalty, and the elite, the power and the lustful... I suppose." He glanced back at the translucent fox, hidden to all but him, sitting motionless. Crowe frowned again, looking back up to the figure. He realised he had spoken a single word yet, likely the figure upon the wall supposed he was mute.

"...So, the queen is dead, aye?" Crowe croaked, almost surprised at the cracked sound his voice made. "Even here, royalty is a target... I suppose." He realised that he hadn't spoken in nearly a year; this was probably his first conversation with someone in nearly four years. Clearing his throat probably a little too loudly, Crowe continued. As he had to, to do with he must, as much as he loathed it. "Are there any others... within this castle? I've come searching... for something. I suppose." His tone was almost dismissive, as if he wasn't paying the proper attention to the one he called for his attention. "I can't go back to the desert... I must find someone who fits my... requirements... I can't go back." Crowe's voice had the slightest levels of stress present in, when he began referring to the desert he had come from. He glanced back at the endless desert that surrounded Los Noches like some tan sea. 

He couldn't ever go back, lest he be no better then as a Hollow.

He looked somewhat down, avoiding the gaze of the smirking figure upon the wall; he scratched his unruly red hair with his left hand, never letting go of the blade hidden beneath his overcoat.

- - -

WC:445
TWC:916


A.H

Another day, another being, another question. In this case all the questions in the world. It was easy for her to suss the new comer out with the stream of fresh thoughts and view about this world.
“Aye,” once more her Scottish accented voice rings softly. It was a blessing that she remained indifferent about finding her fellow hollow-breed. It’s funny how the Queen Eve, Ava, Aya? It doesn’t matter what her name is, she was just another queen who failed to make her mark. Even the clueless Arrancar that stood before her know what Las Noches is, but failed to recall the ruler of this place – sad, isn’t it.

She had the right mind to put fear of god in the wandering neophyte and with the belt strap that bound the flap of her revolver become undone, she whipped the revolver out to point at the general direction and delivered her answer, “Everyone is a target, even you.”

The hammer of her revolver was pulled by the thumb, the gun was primed, but her words were not. The violent clearing of the Arrancar’s throat pushed back the hammer and lowered. Her hip sway to the right, resting her gun hand on the hip and remained observant. The red hair had rarely seen water as it was a pigsty, but then again, she can’t say that out loud as hers was just as bad. His thin and weary presence got her wondering if she could take him on in combat? As his questions streamed from his ill prepared mouth, were there others?

“There are others,” she just remembered that she grinned earlier she wondered why was that? She let out a sigh, concluding that it was random quirk. “but they’re scattered all over the place.” She watched him relaxing, and that when she realised why: his hand was hovering over his blade.

“Tell me, who was it you are looking for? Answer me that and I’ll escort you to the place.” That is the fact, no king or queen, no anyone ruling, Las Noches was in disarray. He could even declare himself as King, and deep down, she wants him to do that, so she can gun him down. Considering the stress building from his words and his ignorance, it is doubtful that would be his intention.

“Your name,” she finally asked the important question, not that it matter for her, but it is nice to know what he goes by.

[411]
Crowe Starazo

Panic flared through Crowe's mind as the weapon, which he did not quite recognise ("Was it her weapon, much like his blade?" It bothered Crowe how much he didn't know about his own kind.),  was pulled from it's hidden location and pointed right in his direction. If he was from Italy, Crowe wondered where this Arrancar was originally from; perhaps from a different world? He gripped the blade beneath his overcoat tightly, but not quite drawing it. Crowe had fought little but the most mindless of Hollows who dared to approach him on his trek around the desert. Even if their level of power were similar, he had to assume this girl was more experienced in actual combat; he may have come here to perhaps inevitably die, but he would die on his own terms, not in a battle he could not win. At best, he might be faster, but nothing more. Crowe shuffled his feet slightly, as if he was half ready to retreat, as hesitant as he was. "I must look much akin to a fool, I suppose."

Slowly, her arm relaxed, not quite sheathing the strange weapon but no longer primed to kill. Crowe also relaxed his stance, loosening his grip on the blade. Clearly, this Arrancar was not out for blood; Crowe supposed if she was, he'd either be dead or retreating into the desert now. As he relaxed, he became aware of the Arrancar's spiritual presence; it's soft, almost calming aura made him relax the grip on his blade even more, nothing like the rough, raging auras of the monsters in the desert.

It was almost peaceful, to be near an actual intelligent being. 

The Arrancar's question as to what he was exactly looking for made him snap back to reality, causing him to again avert his gaze from her, almost out of shame. Of course, he'd thought of his request for a purpose many times, rehearsing speaking to any other living being a thousand times in his head; but to actually speak of it, to someone who could potentially end him in a few moments..?
"I... grew tired of wandering Hueco Mundo for so long. I came here... to find a purpose, with anyone. To give myself a reason..." Crowe looked back at the desert, the translucent fox sitting motionless behind him, like a thorn in his heart. "To not... lose what little is left." Crowe trailed off on that thought, frowning. His stressed tone was gone; replaced by a sense of melancholy "I supposed, there would be someone in this castle who would have need of me. Perhaps... not." Perhaps there were others in this endless sea of sand and bone, who had use of a despairing, broken Arrancar?

Crowe looked back for a split second at the question of a name, his eyesight darting back below almost instantly. He felt almost embarrassed, spilling his guts to someone he'd never met.
"My name, aye?... Well, my name is Crowe. Starazo, Crowe. Though, I suppose, a long time ago, people called me... Corvo. But, yes, it's best you just call me Crowe." He fumbled his words awkwardly, the anxiety clear in his voice, any apparent or assumed skill at greetings evaporating in an instant. "A-And yours? Do you have a name you'd, uh, like to be called?" Was he an outlier, to have a name?

- - -
WC: 561
TWC: 1477

A.H 

She let the silence rings for longer than usual. She kept her gaze onto Crowe as she began to wonder what exactly the point of all this? Sure, she would bring him into Las Noches, but what he will do from there. Leave? The place isn’t exactly busy with likeminded Arrancars like the red-head Crowe. In her right mind would be to tell him that Las Noches was a ruin, but that is far from the truth. Majority of the buildings were untouched. It was the ring of wall around the castle and its deserted building were damaged and with numbers, it can be repaired.

Her thought filled with the potential of growth within Las Noches. What would be better place to let Arrancar like him to flourish in the vicinities of the castle like a flower, but even so. He needed water to nourish, and those are hard to come by. She opened her mouth as to speak, but a thought flashed by her head… Why don’t she be a water? Hah, what silly notion? How could she benefit in making Corvus feel welcome and receive growth?

That however, stopped her line of thought. The question provided her an idea. Why not? She concluded. It is ever so nice to have an army, a team of likeminded Arrancars who she will know that they will have her back. Being a ruler is never an option for someone like A.H, but having a squad was another story. She gave her a light rub on her left cheek with her free hand before jerking her head towards the Castle.

“Come ya daft bird. I’ll escort you to the castle,” She nonchalantly quipped with the Scottish Accent. She spoke in English purely out of habit, but with a swift turn and after a step further away from the bird named Arrancar, she waved him over as to clearly state that she is moving in case he didn’t understood her.

“Place pretty big, but empty. So find a place and make it your own.”

[341]
[1163]
Crowe Starazo

"..." Crowe barely moved as he waited for the female Arrancar to answer him. Every instinct in his mind was telling him to break the gaze that was locked between the two of them, but he held it together regardless, as if breaking the eye contact would change everything. She did not answer Crowe's question regarding a name... or anything that he could refer to her as. The silence rang out between them for what felt an eternity, with every passing moment Crowe's want to turn tail and retreat growing. "Maybe there isn't anyone here, anyway." Crowe thought, despairingly. "Maybe... life is as dead here as it was in the desert." He glanced back at the desert.

Nothing was worse then that silent, endless purgatory. 

And finally, as if an hour had passed within Crowe's mind, the female Arrancar spoke out, her voice like a blade cleaving through the silence. For a few moments, Crowe felt he'd misheard her; he'd expected just more more silence that would her departing, or in a worst case, simply a hostile attack. But the invitation that came from her... it was the last thing he expected, even if it was what Crowe had come here for in the first place 
"...The castle?" Crowe murmured. He looked up at the female Arrancar, the little wave to signal him to follow. "...My own place?" Did he ever have his own place? Life in the orphanage, on the streets, and finally that inn... and now he finds himself on the precipice of a place of monsters... Where he could now find his own place.

"..." Clambering up behind the female Arrancar to follow her, he paused before following her into Los Noches proper. Crowe felt a yearning to carve out his own place in this castle of madness, but looking at the size, and the Arrancar's words that implied the few who still dwelled within. "You live in this place... as well, I suppose?" He scratched his unruly red hair, avoiding eye contact as per usual. "Perhaps it does not have to be so empty... for either of us." He looked down at the floor awkwardly. "...I suppose."

He followed the Arrancar within the mighty fortress of Los Noches, wondering what her name, what her story was.

In all honesty... it was just nice enough to not be alone, just for once, ever so briefly. Even if within moments it could, undoubtedly would, be ripped away... it was comforting.

- - -

WC: 396
TWC: 1876

A.H

A young woman -- definitely not a maiden anymore -- sat atop the debris of a crumbled tower within the massive dome that was Las Noches. The tower was, at some point, the Tercera's, but now it had toppled to the ground due to one of the many explosive battles that had raged within this hellhole. The fact that any of the Espada towers remained in tact was a miracle in it of it's own, now that the woman thought about it. Though, the thought was fleeting and soon replaced with the excitement of what had drawn her to this particular spot near the northern entrance of Las Noches.

About a story below was the ground. That ground, made up of sand and loose chunks of reishi-chunks that had made up the aforementioned tower, was now stained with a thick, almost black blood that permeated the surface and oozed far below. Massive creatures, like Hollows, bled a massive amount, as one would expect. What one wouldn't expect would be just how tenacious said monsters could be. Raw and primal, they very rarely had "limits" and when they did reach them, they were already dead. So it was nothing new to see a couple of Hollows partaking in a rather brutal exchange.

Limbs had been severed and their forms almost completely mangled by the point the lone Arrancar had shown up. Only their masks remained untouched. After all, that was the only part of a Hollow that truly mattered. Still, the creatures trembled in agony and anger as they tackled one another. Cries and roars of their battle echoed off the nearby walls and then faded into the distance. Surely, even Hollows on the other side of Las Noches heard the cacophonous uproar and would soon be attracted to it. Perhaps, many would join in this battle and begin to rip and tear into one another until, eventually, they became a singular beast with no mind of its own. A vessel for all of their hatred and hunger.

A Menos as the observer had learned. The second stage in a Hollow's life. The stage she had only recently outgrown.

The woman, expression plastered with disdain, watched as the Hollows mashed their gigantic teeth onto one another, ripping and tearing at whatever flesh they found purchase in. A final blow that sent the smaller one to it's side, writhing and shrieking in pain as the larger began to eat it alive. Soon, the smaller would go still and its mask would break. The scent of a fresh kill made nearby Hollows -- each far, far, far weaker than the two that had been battling -- shift a bit closer. Like vultures, they readied for a chance to swoop in and steal a bite here and there while the victorious monster was preoccupied with its meal.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what the woman had been waiting for.

The Hollows steeped in closer, like shadows creeping in at sunset. Another step here and there. Soon, they were bunched up at the corpse, eyes pinned to the meal they so desperately needed. It would be the last thing they saw before a whip cracked against the cool, desert air and shattered all of their masks in one fell swoop.



At some point into her meal, the woman heard the distant sound of chatter accompanied by the uneven footsteps of a newcomer. While she was certainly a neat eater by Hollow standards, the woman was coated in a noticeable layer of blood and fleshy bits. Her ragged, long dress that mimicked a corrupted wedding gown reeked of death and the beginning stages of decay. Her hair, however, had been spared the mess of her meal; she had been careful not to let the long locks dip into the body of her dinner. Needless to say, she certainly wasn't ready for company.

With a bit of hustle, she pushed together the remaining bodies -- most of it was just bone at this point and she was above eating those bits of her meal -- and stood up straight. She was still viciously rubbing her face clean with her forearm and the end of her dress when a voice addressed her from behind. As casual as can be, the woman turned and then smiled at her fellow Arrancar.

"Welcome," she said in a voice just loud enough to carry over to the strangers. "Are you hungry? I've got more than enough to share."

[739]

“Aye,” It feels so nice to say yes in her mother tongue. The word ‘Hai’ filtered in her accent sounds like she’s trying to laugh. “Well, I’ve decided that it is a good idea to stay in Las Noches,” with no one ruling the roost and all the second rate ‘Espada’ left or dead. The timeless castle and its vicinity was hers for the taking. She just need to find the best space.

“Sounds like you were leading a lonely life?” To be honest, every Arrancar she came across seemed like they share loneliness one way or another. A.H on the other hand, didn’t. Loneliness never bothered her at all, it was the lack of destruction, to kill maim is what bothered him. The fact that she has not smashed Crowe was a testament to her willpower. ‘for the greater good,’ she thought. Sooner or later sticking with people will surely lead her into conflict. The gun arm of hers swung around till the barrel and the heatshield of her bayonet shotgun rest against her left shoulder.
“We’re almost there, Bird,” just as she said that, she can smell something was off. The all too familiar pong of death, stench so foul that she was convinced that Crowe would smell too. It wasn’t till they reached Las Noches when the stench became apparent. Corpses of Hollow littered everywhere, many of which were reduced to bones and there were one standing before them, a small woman with a hearty appetite. As much as the Demon Gunwoman was impressed by the resident’s consumption, but not so much regarding by her methods of eating. Caked in blood and unquestionable item on her attire, but her hair was spotless, a complete opposite to AH’s tender care to her uniform and her unkempt, messy hair. Even, she, a soldier who witnessed wars and genocide, was feeling uncomfortable with her messy appearance but pure and clean hair. She scrunches her nose, rubbing it with her off hand. She even waves of the opportunity for feast.
 
“Nah, I like hunting my own…and I like clean company.”

This is quite a revelation. It is becoming even more interesting for her to see the outcome of this ‘folly’, but deep down, she is still wary of the situation that she’s in and could go wrong. Very wrong.

[388]
[1551]

As the two Arrancar entered Los Noches proper, it became very clear to Crowe that the female Arrancar's words rang true; almost no one lived in this facade of a castle anymore. The truth of the matter struck Crowe deeply; he had counted on finding someone, the only logical place in the accursed desert, to give his services to. But... even with finding the female Arrancar here, there was still a chance there would be someplace he could rest easy. He gripped the blade beneath his brown overcoat. He didn't think the Arrancar that strode beside him would fight at this point... but if there was going to be a fight, he had to be ready to fight or flee. 

"...I wouldn't say my life was lonely, I suppose." Crowe murmued, looking at the ground before his feet. "The centuries of what I am..." Crowe frowned. He couldn't put his torment into words; hell, this was the most he had spoken in over four hundred years. "Let's... just say that I'm tired of much of life. Yes... that'll do, I suppose." As he began to talk more frequently with his Arrancar companion, his natural Italian accent began to emerge; not enough to really be called an accent, but simply an artifact of a long-ago life. "..." He glanced over at his companion, his sole brown eye sizing her up now that he was so close. "...How long have you been in this hell?" He whispered, his voice dripping with a combination of fear and interest. Was she a relative newcomer, like him? Or one of the ancient Arrancar he'd heard whispers about? He gripped the blade slightly more tightly... just in case.

As soon as the female Arrancar had said they were nearing their destination, Crowe knew something was off. The smell that entered his nostrils, the smell of death and gluttony and violance... the smell he'd gotten used to in the desert, in the moments he'd been forced to consume to continue living his pointless existence. But the thing that disgusted him most, the thing that made him question loathe the thoughts in his brain... was the fact that he liked the smell, and the taste. And then, Crowe saw her, someone who was undoubtedly much like him. He almost had to step back from the disconnect between her fair, almost beautiful appearance, and the blood and guts and grime that came from the great Hollows she had consumed right there and then. 

For some reason, her greeting sent shivers down his spine; Crowe had only until glanced Arrancar from a distance, but even the female he'd met just earlier didn't strike him as too unusual. But this woman, here... something disturbed him about what he was looking at.
"...Is this what I am now?" Crowe thought, shutting his eye. "...Am I going to become like this, a glutton for my brethren?" Crowe did not answer the Arrancar's offer of food; he simply stood, almost frozen in a mix of feelings, not sure what he was going to do. Were everyone, in this palace of monsters, just that?

"...What even is the point?"

-
WC: 523
TWC:2399

The woman, blushing by the point in time she realized how disgusted her company was with her, started to rub her face clean with a part of her dress. Sure, the fabric itself was messy, but it was happy to absorb up some of the fresh blood and make her seem at least a little more presentable. She smiled from beneath the cloth.

"I'm, ah, sorry," she stammered, as if she hadn't talked to anyone in a long time. "In all honesty, I wasn't expecting company. Mostly just Hollows and Privaron around these parts. Well, what's left of them."

Her gaze shifted to the pile of guts and gore that now stood behind her. She smiled a bit more, as if proud, and then looked back to the two.

"It's mostly just been me and the occasional straggler who thinks they're going to find safety here. Word travels slow around these parts, I guess," she said with a chuckle and then took a step forward. "You guys lost or something? I don't think I've seen you around before."

Friendly, even out-going in tone, the woman hardly fit the "monstrous" scene she had made. In fact, had she not been the very one caked in her dinner, one may never even realize just how much of a slob she could be. As if realizing that, she tried to rub some more blood from her face and then picked a fleshy bit of meat from her dress. Without a care, she flicked it to the ground.

"There's no king or Espada right now. At least none that I've heard of," she said plainly. "But I'd be willing to point you in the right direction of whatever it is you're searching for."

[289]

The Demon Gunwoman looked over to Crowe and he was left with a dumbfounded look which she herself finds it amusing. Bearing a grin, she looks back to the short and messy eater.

“Better them than us,” She couldn’t help but admire her glutton. Even she couldn’t eat a quarter of what this messy eater had. Her lone eye loomed back to the Arrancar of the Corvus variant and the look of discomfort stood out brightly like a sun. For a moment, He could just as easily light up the entire area with his expression. She really wants to know what exactly he was thinking – what caused his level of discomfort. Was it complex, or was it petty like hers truly? She gave him a forceful nudge to his arm. Followed by her wicked, mischievous grin. “Steady on, Bird. Don’t fall in love just yet, not until yer got her name!” The rapid fire of her speech, the Scottish accent and the jovial tone of her voice lightened the seemingly morbid surrounding of death and consumption. She added her words with a hushed tone at Crowe, “Aye, I heard you earlier. Let’s talk about that later after we found a place.”

A pat on the back of Crowe back was clear that he had managed to unwittingly promote himself in her social ladder, or maybe it was her soldier spirit within her that made her compelled to protect his own? The Solider Arrancar with a neat and clean officer wear that’s inspired from the War that end all Wars took a few steps towards the strange messy eater.

“Aye, you’re alright,” She spoke responding to her stammering, “The whole place seems dead and buried in ages. This here is Crowe Starazo.” She followed it up with a jerk of her thumb back at Crowe. She’s glad that he was also there. Much easier for her to deflect warrants of her name. “More than happy to deliver him your name and possibly further dialogue for romance.” Banter added to muddy the water. No complications were what she wanted.

“Aye, I do want you to point at something. The palace. I always wanted to feel what is like to live in a large palace.” The reality was. She really wants to know what content they have left behind. If the big eater was telling that truth that no one really comes here nowadays then surely there was a chance that the previous Queen had left something valuable behind.

[416]
[1967]

Crowe remained in his sense of panic and fear for a few more moments as the two female Arrancar spoke a few words between them. He just didn't understand - a few moments ago this new Arrancar was feasting upon the carcass of a great Hollow - now, she was blushing from embarrassment, being caught in such a situation. How can something capable of carnage and horror... do something so normal? He'd isolated himself for so many years, to protect himself and those he would doom... But the fact was that he didn't understand what he was. And Crowe wished, almost more then anything else, that he knew.

He fell out of his stupor from a harder-then-needed nudge from the Female Arrancar, making him aware he'd been silent for much longer then he should've been. Something that hadn't changed in four hundred years. He instinctive glared (as much as you can with one eye) at his companion at her teasing remark, causing him to redden slightly without meaning to - a much more natural reaction then the anxious, catious, almost nihilistic he'd become in that desert.
"...Maybe we aren't as different as I thought." If he was going to spend much of his time... no, all of his remaining time at this place, he needed to learn what he was, and what about him was right and wrong.

"A-Anyway." Crowe stammered. "Like my companion said... my name is Crowe Starazo, I suppose." He ignored his companion's sly remark, scratching his bird's nest of hair. What was her deal, by the way? When they met, not long ago at all, she had her weapon out and looked ready to mow him down... now she was making jokes about romance? The pat on his back lessened his discomfort in this alien situation... ever so slightly. "I'm looking... for a purpose in this place. I couldn't find it in the desert. Felt like this was my only chance in this whole world." He glanced away, feeling odd about saying so much about himself. "...I suppose."

He was in the middle of two Arrancar - Arrancar that defied every expectation and belief he had about the monster he'd become seven years ago. They were frightening, interesting, terrifying, and honestly, even a little fun to be around.

"And at the very least..." Crowe thought to himself, probably the first warm thought he'd had in a long time, the smallest, almost invisible smile emerging on his face.

"...It's better then being on my own."

Some things never change.

-

WC: 418
TWC: 2717

"Crowe..." The Arrancar tasted the name with a satisfied grin on her face. Out of reflex, she took a step forward and shoved her hand out to him. "Nice to meet..."

The timid Arrancar flinched back in some manner, cutting off her friendliness in one fell swoop. Her smile faltered and she took a step back. Instead of addressing it, her attention flicked back to the woman. There was a moment of uncertainty, as if Crowe's hesitance had infected her to some degree, but it was pushed aside in favor of a casual smile.

"Weird choice in friends," she said plainly, as if he wasn't right in front of her. "He'll have to try harder than that to swoon any pretty ladies, let alone me." She outright avoided the opportunity to give out her own name.

A name she didn't really have. A name that, she assumed, she wouldn't share even if she could. Or maybe she would? Or... No, no, she was certain she wouldn't. The woman was too brash and dogmatic -- not to her tastes. And the man? Well, maybe he'd get her name in private, if only because she felt no threat from him.

Her indecisiveness was cut short by the gesture to the palace in the very far distance as well as Crowe remembering how to speak. Her crimson gaze swept between the both of them as they spoke, as if giving her full attention to them. Truth be told, her mind was wandering. Her feast, one she had hoped would skyrocket her power and authority in these slums, was beginning to rot away. Well, not necessarily rot by the standard term, but the spiritual particles that held the bodies together were losening and, thus, the forms were starting to break apart. Rotting away for all intents and purposes.

She couldn't help but glance to the meat as she looked over her shoulder and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the castle.

"It's back that-a-way," she said simply. "Not much left of it, really. Lots of holes and broken chambers at this point. A pack of Hollows moved in at some point and really made a mess of the place. But, ah... Before we go there?" Her tone was soft and timid, as if she was about confess her undying love for one (or maybe both) of them. Gentle eyes darted between the pair before they fell to the ground. She shifted her weight and then looked back up at them.

"If either of you are thinking about asserting yourselves as a ruler, or doing any of that stupid shit every bright-eyed and bushy tailed Arrancar wants to do," she said with the same tenderness, though there was a sharpness to her gaze, "I'm going to flat up tell you to turn around and go right back to wherever it was you came from."

She started to turn, but kept her eyes on the duo she would start to escort to the palace. Her speech only paused long enough for her to gesture for them to follow her. Despite her words and threats, she seemed very keen on taking them to where they wanted to go. Maybe, on some level, she believed that they were only looking for a place to live and was only saying these things as a warning, or reminder.

"I've been an Arrancar for not even a year and I'm already tired of the brats who come along and throw around the title of King or Queen without even knowing what it really means," by this point in time, she had turned her back completely to the two, confident enough in her own strength that clearly didn't care about how they'd respond. "So, I've decided to make myself a sort of gatekeeper to that throne. I certainly don't want it, but I sure as hell won't let anyone sit on it unless they're ready for it."

Regardless of if they followed, the failure of a woman started to walk towards the palace.

[671]

“I found him lost. He’s not used to company so give him time.” She gave her a coy thumb tucked between the index and middle finger gesture. She wasn’t too sure how she picked that up, but she knows it was a sexually suggestive gesture. Vehemently and playfully not dropping the pairing that she’s brewing, she let out a playful yet wicked grin at the two. It was ever so much a joy to see a man being so hesitant towards a woman, especially one looking beautiful as such as the one before her. Maybe Crowe finds the Demon gunwoman too masculine? Then it was working as intended! She looked over to Crowe for a moment and for a brief glimpse, she noticed a brief positive reaction enamelling over him. Good. That the sort of mood she wants from him.

She took a step forward and a pat on Crowe’s head. She was genuinely surprised at how short he was as a man. Aren’t men supposed to be somewhat taller than a woman? She quipped thoughtfully. Her thoughts would be too demeaning at this situation and besides, maybe she’s not like most women? That can be true in consideration of her evolution. Even the big eater lady was shorter and… busty? Her eye closed and composure bolstered. She thought that big breasts were often reserved to big sized women or recently bore child mother but that was as far as she knows when it comes to female anatomy and biology. She lightly shudders, wondering just how bad those big breasts fit her.

The fellow Arrancar lady gave them direction was great, and it was empty which was even greater! Just when the Demon gunwoman was about to hit jackpot in the guise of the hostess giving them a direction, there followed a but. A.H heart sank. Why can’t she just have everything without a but tacked on to like a bad cash cow movie sequel. Her tone was soft, dangerously persuasive enough to fall for her, but not this lady. This lady is not for turning! But alas, she did turn.

Only because of what she said. Her shotgun swung low to let the gravity take hold of the Geneva Convention breaking weapon of war and paced herself towards the sexy lady. She reached out to grab her seemingly fragile arm, shifted to stand before her and planted a (light) wet kiss on her right cheek.

“MWAH!” She loves it when her plan comes together with little derailment. Even the exaggerated noise on the kiss was smacked with joy. “You darling, are a beautiful and smart woman.” She gazed at her new best friend’s captivating crimson eyes. He paced away with a springing stomp and a rousing laughter. Her Scottish accent bellowed with a wicked, toothy grin.

“Fuck Monarchy,” She roared, “Fuck them all! What good are they? Las Noches itself has more power than most El Rey and…” She paused, trying to figure out what was the female equivalent of queen in Spanish. “Queen!” She gave up, it’s better to just remain simple than stress herself out. “This building can bring everyone together, provide shelter and nurture the potential who wish to live here. Why have one Royalty with great power when we can build many.” She elated. Pointing at Crowe with her shotgun, “We can make him stronger than the previous King and not make him royalty because there will be others who are just as same!” Finally! she let her passion out of her chest, but the joy was so brief when it finally dawns on her, that bittersweet realisation. Her heckling ends and her composure clashed against her like a wave. And the questions followed.

“Why on earth did no one else thought of this? And why Las Noches was left in ruin when you got shit hole like Las Colonias that was left untouched?” She looked back at the two with a mixture of distraught and anger.

Pointless questions deserved to be answered.

[672]

Crowe raised his eyebrows at the female Arrancar's gestures, shaking his head as he began to listlessly stride in the direction the stranger had indicated. He'd gone maybe four paces before his new companion gave him a hearty pat on the head, causing him to recoil slightly out of instinct. He shifted awkwardly on the spot, looking away from her.
"...Sorry. Force of habit, I suppose." Crowe mumble, turning away to continue his march. Again, maybe ten steps later he hard the new Arrancar's stopped them with something to say. Crowe felt a shudderrun down his spine before she even began to talk.

And, to his minor fascination, it didn't effect him at all. A warning meant for all, the apparent unending hordes of Arrancar who wish to rise to the very top. Of all he'd learnt of the Arrancar on this day, this was the least surprising. "Like I'd ever want that." Crowe thought to himself. "Power. Royalty. Status." Crowe shook his head, gritting his teeth. It wouldn't come to him. The scattered moments of his life, the details of what he had to go through. Except those eyes. The eyes that stared at him like he was little more then a pile of ashes.
"Royalty has nothing to do with me." Crowe murmured to the two of them, disgust palpable in his usage of 'royalty'. Almost as if he was in a trance. "All I want is a purpose, be it for a cause or little more then a suicide mission. Nothing more." He ran a hand through his red hair. In that moment, in declaring his 'ambition' and disgust at the very idea of rising to the top, none of his anxiety was visible. But just like that, the moment and passed and the vulnerable, timid Crowe returned, scratching at his neck in some deep anxiety.

What WAS surprise about was his companion's enthusiastic reaction to the Arrancar's words. It was like it was the most wonderful, beautiful thing she'd ever heard, the sounds of joy she made sound like it was her birthday. He raised his eyes in scepticism at her claims of what they can do with Los Noches. As he looked closer at the castle, he noticed more and more how much it exactly was in disrepair; the walls were not a outlier. Could they really do something with such a decaying graveyard? 

"Don't point that thing at me!" Crowe growled, ducking slightly as she pointed her weapon at him to signal. He shook his head, wondering what she meant by 'Las Colonias'. Was it that smaller settlement that he saw during his travels? He'd avoided it much like with Los Noches, but he was curious, nonetheless, what kind of people inhabited it.

He glanced back at the newcomer Arrancar, trying not to think about why his companion had been staring a bit more then a little intently at her breasts. Shaking the thought of his mind, he inquired about the other Arrancar's details. He angle his head so his missing eye wasn't as prominent, as always in moments of anxiety - which was most of the time, at this point.
"Why do you stay here, in this place, then? Since you seem to have some distaste for people claiming the throne." 

-
WC:548
TWC:3263

The woman, perhaps too lost in her own thoughts by this point in time, was easily pulled to face the other female, like a doll being repositioned. So it was no wonder that the kiss landed squarely on her cheek -- a spot that was soon stained a very light, pinkish color that was accented by a slightly wide eyed stare. Her features soon relaxed into a tiny smile as she scratched at the place where the woman had kissed her. There was a momentary glimpse of childlike innocence that crossed her jaded and tired eyes.

Various forms of uh-huh's and mildly enthusiastic yeah's interjected the Scottish woman's little rant about monarchy and the stupidity of it. A few nods here and there were aimed at Crowe as he watched with little to no excitement, though perhaps a bit of envy for the Scot's wide range of emotions. Even the newcomer felt herself a bit jealous of just how free and unabashed the Scot was.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," the failure somewhat lied. Truth be told a lot of the Scot's words had been lost between the thick accent and just how quickly she was talking, but she liked to think she caught the gist of it. Something about raising the next generation to be more powerful and assorted blabber.

This time careful not to spook the somber young fellow, the failure approached Crowe and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She gave it a firm squeeze -- nothing hard enough to hurt, but enough to hopefully inspire a bit of security in his timid nature -- and then smiled. A true smile that would be accompanied by a light background a bubble-like decorations if she was in an anime or comedy movie of sorts. It would take a heart of pure ice not to melt at something so genuine, she assumed.

"I like your intentions, Crowe," she said in a gentle tone to combat the Scot's more robust behavior. Something told her he would appreciate the quietness. "Try not to lose yourself in the past, though. You can't have a purpose if you don't look forward."

Rich coming from someone like her. Maybe she realized just how hypocritical it was of her to say that and so that was why she chose to ignore his too direct question. Or, more likely, she had just lost herself in her thoughts about the kiss that had just happened and completely ignore him. It was hard for even her to decipher her own thoughts and intentions at times.

She gave him a pat on the back and then turned around. With a smile to the Scot and a wave towards the castle, she lead the march to the center of Las Noches. The walk itself was a long one, unfortunately. Many underestimated the sheer size of Las Noches -- especially when they were bogged down by significantly slower companions. Something our dear protagonist certainly didn't consider. More than a few times she found herself several paces too far in front of her new friends and had to stop and wait for them. It took her a while to strike a steady pace that didn't completely leave them in the dust.

Various buildings that had once held the many legions of Las Noches dotted the sandy walk. At first, most of them were still in surprisingly good condition. Most of them even seemed to still house Arrancar. A few of them would pop out from their homes, or appear from around a corner to eye the new comers who were being escorted by the dark haired maiden who had surely earned some sort of reputation around these parts. For better or for worse, she was certainly the most fearsome who still lived within the walls and with that came rumors.

"We've still got a ways to go," the Arrancar said in a slightly bored tone. "I'm really bad at small talk."

No surprise, she didn't follow up that awkward statement with anything else to respond to. Just the quiet plea for someone more social -- perhaps the Scot -- to spark a bit of life into their trek.

[693]

“The gun hardly loaded, but guess ya didn’t know that. Sorry.” revealing the greatest spoiler of all, her shotgun was never loaded. Unlike her revolver, the metal and plastic pieces to hold whatever nefarious munitions were hard to come by and even if she did find some she was spoilt for choice: Metal, rock, glass, even used a small hollow once. Only made a splatter all over the target. However, it was nice to see Crowe showing aggressive emotion from her over the top candour. A refreshing chance for his timid behaviour as she thought. The new comer came beside her to give the growing popular boy a squeeze on his shoulder which left the Scot with an unbearable grin. It only took the newcomer to fritter away with a hush wave.

Finally, she thought. Soon she’ll be in the heart of Las Noches and thus begin her plan, but just how far did she think of it? Just when she could, the young woman finally starts to make her movement. Of course, there’s always a little further ahead, but it never really further at all? The demon gunwoman looked over the doll with a neutral expression. She wasn’t so sure if she was listening or understood her. She knew her accent was a roadblock to many, but it can’t be that bad, right?

“Aye, I know right?”

Followed by outburst and ambition, walking. Lots of them, according to the doll there still some ways which didn’t bother her at all. What does bother her was there are still Arrancar living there. She wondered why didn’t they do something rather than hiding in shame or maybe out of fear? She looked back to the Doll and then back at Crowe, wondering if he’s still following.

“Say, do you know how to fight?” The throwaway remark was mostly aimed at both of them. She didn’t know Crowe too well enough to display physical prowess, but she was sure that he coped somehow. But what about the woman? She assumed that the stranger Arrancar does have some capability considering of the corpse littered all around her, but what if she’s just a carrion? A lowly beast who feasts on decaying, unfinished corpses. She doesn’t know which are worse: A beast who doesn’t finish their spoil or a beast who gorged on half finished, riddled in strangers’ saliva. Ugh! She shuddered at the thought of it.

“Because, you won’t ally with you if you don’t know how to fight,” she huffed. “I don’t carry others, ya know?”

[424]
[3063]

The dark-haired Arrancar approached him, making Crowe feel a little overwhelmed with her rather powerful spiritual presence and odd personality. The squeeze on shoulder, and the smile that could only be described as 'wholesome and caring' stirred something inside Crowe's self, a feeling he couldn't quite understand it, even as he ran his fingers over his hair to hide his Hollow hole. He felt his face grow warm and that anxiety that was his constant companion rise up... but not the same dark feelings as usual... Closer to embarrassment or shyness then fear of the unknown. The raven-haired being contrasted his initial companion's wild behaviour quite nicely, their declarations bouncing off each other in a rather comical manner. Her mild, quiet words to him were met with a stoic nod from Crowe, clearly grateful at her words despite not wishing to show it.

"A-Ah, it's a little hard to look at the future when you're someone like me." He laughed quietly, the bitterness and self-loathing very apparent in his voice. And then their walk continued, deeper into the abyss that was Los Noches. It boggled Crowe's mind how large the fortress was, and at it's height how many Arrancar and Hollows walked it's halls and rooms. Even now as the three of them strode through, he caught glimpses of other Arrancar, both with his eyes and his perception of them. None of them came out to greet them, in fact Crowe could almost sense their reluctance to emerge, even let their presence be known to the trio. And Crowe was sure it was because of their new raven-haired companion - something was 'off' about her; he couldn't put his finger on it, but something about her struck him as dangerous. The gap between her pleasantries and pure power that seemed to exist within her form unsettled Crowe.

Even at the question of wanting to know if the two of them could fight, Crowe instinctively went to grab his blade beneath his overcoat, relaxing almost immediately after the instinct faded. Since their unsettling guide was not adept in the art of small talk, Crowe decided he'd fill the void of silence first.
"I wouldn't say I'm 'good' at fighting, but I know how to use my blade. I've only used it a handful of times in last few years, since when I need to...eat." Every time he thought about it, the feeling he felt as he consumed made him sick to his stomach. "...I can normally just bring a Hollow with a hand. I only went after the dregs, I suppose." He shrugged, not sure what else he could really add to the conversation. He could handle the basics, and probably the weakest of Arrancar. But beyond that...? Who knows.

"...What are your skills in combat?" He asked to the wild Scot.
-
WC:471
TWC: 3734