Post by Rainier Rucio on Dec 13, 2017 16:06:04 GMT -5
Partially collapsed pallets covered in sheet metal rattled in the wind. Some sort of weather system blew in a few hours prior and covered the starless nighttime sky with a thick overcast. The wind picked up since and started to shake the pieces of the collapsed, mostly-tin roof that shielded Rainier from the rain that started to come down. He listened to it pelt against the roof and the brick wall to his back. His spear leaned up against his side and his head hung low, eyes closed, while he did his best to ignore the deep hunger in the pit of his stomach.
Back in Hueco Mundo he had to hunt Hollows of considerably strength to satisfy himself. Here, he found only mundane humans and the occasional spiritualist. None satisfied him yet, and approaching yet another week here in the living world left him all but hopeless.
Rainier discovered why so few Huge-class Hollows or Arrancar visited for long: The area saw a lot of Shinigami activity because it was the world’s current spiritual epicenter. He discovered that when he discovered the name of the town that had become a sort of prison for him: Karakura Town. Somewhere near Tokyo in the country of Japan on Earth. No surprise, then, that the Huge Hollow he rode here had chosen this place as the target of their Garganta. Instinct took over and the dead found themselves drawn to this place for reasons not fully understood.
Even as he sat on the dirty floor, against the dirtier wall, in the dead of night, his spiritual sense vaguely warned him of nearby spiritual beings. Some Hollows. A couple Shinigami, one decently close—maybe, they flickered in and out of his awareness—and human spiritualists scattered throughout the town. Quincy and other kinds, Rainier imagined. Not that he expected to find much in the way of visitors. Even regular humans avoided this part of town, a monument to when manufacturing towered as a stronger industry in this old town. Rusted and generally dilapidated, this building failed to stand out from the others in the vicinity.
Footsteps stirred Rainier from his near-slumber. His head shot up and his green eyes, almost ablaze, scanned the room with a sudden, violent intensity. He could have set the dirt and metal beams on fire if he glared any harder. Slowly, the ferocity of his stare dwindled down. Whatever he heard must have been the wind, he decided. For a moment, it sounded like someone sprinted across the rooftop—or a nearby one, at least.
Just to feel better about his situation, precarious as it was, Rainier looked around the room one more time. Broken pallets, collapsed parts of the roofing, piles of shattered concrete and rhubarb, a metal staircase going to higher floors, and countless, wooden boxes long since pried open by crowbars to be stripped of any left behind valuables when this warehouse closed down.
Not a single soul in sight and, for the exhausted Arrancar, that fact promised to be good news until morning. After that, he decided, he would go hunt down his next meal and continue to wait for one of his own to come to Earth and take him back.
*****
538 Words
Back in Hueco Mundo he had to hunt Hollows of considerably strength to satisfy himself. Here, he found only mundane humans and the occasional spiritualist. None satisfied him yet, and approaching yet another week here in the living world left him all but hopeless.
Rainier discovered why so few Huge-class Hollows or Arrancar visited for long: The area saw a lot of Shinigami activity because it was the world’s current spiritual epicenter. He discovered that when he discovered the name of the town that had become a sort of prison for him: Karakura Town. Somewhere near Tokyo in the country of Japan on Earth. No surprise, then, that the Huge Hollow he rode here had chosen this place as the target of their Garganta. Instinct took over and the dead found themselves drawn to this place for reasons not fully understood.
Even as he sat on the dirty floor, against the dirtier wall, in the dead of night, his spiritual sense vaguely warned him of nearby spiritual beings. Some Hollows. A couple Shinigami, one decently close—maybe, they flickered in and out of his awareness—and human spiritualists scattered throughout the town. Quincy and other kinds, Rainier imagined. Not that he expected to find much in the way of visitors. Even regular humans avoided this part of town, a monument to when manufacturing towered as a stronger industry in this old town. Rusted and generally dilapidated, this building failed to stand out from the others in the vicinity.
Footsteps stirred Rainier from his near-slumber. His head shot up and his green eyes, almost ablaze, scanned the room with a sudden, violent intensity. He could have set the dirt and metal beams on fire if he glared any harder. Slowly, the ferocity of his stare dwindled down. Whatever he heard must have been the wind, he decided. For a moment, it sounded like someone sprinted across the rooftop—or a nearby one, at least.
Just to feel better about his situation, precarious as it was, Rainier looked around the room one more time. Broken pallets, collapsed parts of the roofing, piles of shattered concrete and rhubarb, a metal staircase going to higher floors, and countless, wooden boxes long since pried open by crowbars to be stripped of any left behind valuables when this warehouse closed down.
Not a single soul in sight and, for the exhausted Arrancar, that fact promised to be good news until morning. After that, he decided, he would go hunt down his next meal and continue to wait for one of his own to come to Earth and take him back.
*****
538 Words
