Post by A.H on Jan 14, 2018 20:31:12 GMT -5
Pitiful. Those were her words regarding the state of the residents in Las Noches. Not a single fang flashed in anger and many cowered at a sight of the unknown. Their balls were affected, castrated by the lone Shinigami who hounded down their Queen and her Primera. Surely, they must’ve shriveled up permanently when they laid eyes on the messy corpse of a once pompous queen.
And Levi. Less said about that waste of space, the better she declared. With the army of Arrancar housing in Las Noches, none seem to have the capability of commanding or even spared the strength to defend themselves, she felt they were domesticated, like cats. To them, life was given to them like platter.
‘don’t worry, you’re safe here. she can just imagine the words spewed from their mouth and their comforting gesture as if though the world is cruel and barren, though she had concluded that there’s value in friendship, but gifting them to whoever they see in view cheapens it. She saw it in Las Colonias. Those foul miscreants who run the place chose to sully that value by befriending with Shinigami. To her, such actions is like salting a virile earth, denying the right of growth.
The familiar air stirred her nostrils. The decay and the unique musk of Hollow lingered from where she walked. Today the lack of wind allowed the stench to float. Perfect for the hunt, fatal for the prey. She pressed the excited nostrils with her thumb and index, eye darting about to seek its prey.
The ground of Hueco Mundo was a hard and brutal. Even with the boot, she still imagined the rugged terrain delivering discomfort in spades. As though her footing was light, the ground assuring the surrounding with a shuffled scrape of her sole. She felt in the distance that something was watching her, observing her. ’good’ For she had observed this strange creature for days.
“Kalos,” her name given to this sack like hollow. Its appearance was defined by its unique shifting mask. Much like her rugged accent of the Highlands was her defining feature. She hovered over her revolver holster, unclicking the binds that keeps it in place, but something was not right. She had an inkling that she felt lighter than before. It dawned on her that she had given her revolver to someone, a memento of her plans. Though she decided on this, she felt angry, frustrated that she had given away her valuable tool. The sneer grew, bearing her natural white dental fixtures.
“Where are ye ya sack of Harlequin shite!” Her violate hiss leapt from the bottom of her vocal cords. Cruelty always get a reaction from the strong, even more so as the aggressive tone was earnest. She believed that this hollow got what she wanted and deserved to be groomed to become an Arrancar.
That thing was near, and she want to beat it up not for growth, but because of her stupidity of giving away her own tool.
[506]
And Levi. Less said about that waste of space, the better she declared. With the army of Arrancar housing in Las Noches, none seem to have the capability of commanding or even spared the strength to defend themselves, she felt they were domesticated, like cats. To them, life was given to them like platter.
‘don’t worry, you’re safe here. she can just imagine the words spewed from their mouth and their comforting gesture as if though the world is cruel and barren, though she had concluded that there’s value in friendship, but gifting them to whoever they see in view cheapens it. She saw it in Las Colonias. Those foul miscreants who run the place chose to sully that value by befriending with Shinigami. To her, such actions is like salting a virile earth, denying the right of growth.
The familiar air stirred her nostrils. The decay and the unique musk of Hollow lingered from where she walked. Today the lack of wind allowed the stench to float. Perfect for the hunt, fatal for the prey. She pressed the excited nostrils with her thumb and index, eye darting about to seek its prey.
The ground of Hueco Mundo was a hard and brutal. Even with the boot, she still imagined the rugged terrain delivering discomfort in spades. As though her footing was light, the ground assuring the surrounding with a shuffled scrape of her sole. She felt in the distance that something was watching her, observing her. ’good’ For she had observed this strange creature for days.
“Kalos,” her name given to this sack like hollow. Its appearance was defined by its unique shifting mask. Much like her rugged accent of the Highlands was her defining feature. She hovered over her revolver holster, unclicking the binds that keeps it in place, but something was not right. She had an inkling that she felt lighter than before. It dawned on her that she had given her revolver to someone, a memento of her plans. Though she decided on this, she felt angry, frustrated that she had given away her valuable tool. The sneer grew, bearing her natural white dental fixtures.
“Where are ye ya sack of Harlequin shite!” Her violate hiss leapt from the bottom of her vocal cords. Cruelty always get a reaction from the strong, even more so as the aggressive tone was earnest. She believed that this hollow got what she wanted and deserved to be groomed to become an Arrancar.
That thing was near, and she want to beat it up not for growth, but because of her stupidity of giving away her own tool.
[506]
