"Jeez, how boring can this place be?" grumbled Grimmjow. "All Sosuke ever does is sit on his throne like a log and give the 'thousand mile stare'." He was inside his room, his body slung over the platform in the center of the area. The young-looking man had just gotten back from a grueling four-hour meeting with Aizen and his gang. He didn't remember what it was for though, seeing as he dozed throughout the entire thing; he did manage to retain what the jest of it was, something about adding Fraccion.
Maybe.
"You shouldn't throw around his name like that, sir. What if he were to hear you?" Shawlong was standing next to his master. He had the same respectful stance that he always had around Grimmjow - chest out, chin up, ect. - but a smile replaced the dullness in his face. It was obvious that he was being sarcastic. "I'd hate to see the punishments he'd come up with for us." He respected Aizen, yes, but he never spared a chance to show his true feelings towards the overlord. Then again, the hatred could be coming from the habit of him despising anyone that his leader despised.
"Tch." All eyes - save for Grimmjow's, he had covered his with his forearm as a way to block out the voices - were now on Di Roy. "Probably make us lick his boots or somethin'," he spat as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Sick bastard." The tiniest of the group leaned against the raised area his leader lounged on and let out a heavy sigh. "Can't wait 'till that old man is dead."
The eldest Granz, who was sitting cross-legged in front of Nakeem and loosing badly in their game of cards, set down his bad hand and gave a harsh look to the only other blonde in the room. "You should be ashamed, brother," sighed the man, "Lord Aizen gave us these bodies - he made the impossible, possible - but all you can do is sit there and be negative."
"Why don't you go suck his dick if he's that amazing, Yylfordt?" chuckled Nakeem. "You're such a kiss ass, it makes me sick."
"I am not!"
"Look at you getting red in the face. Are the images too much for you to handle?"
"Shut yer mouth, Edrad!"
The large Arrancar's smirk widened as he took a step towards the red-faced Granz. "I suggest you refrain from taking that tone with me. I might get offended and have to put you in your place." He was still joking, but the hateful glare he received from his comrade changed that. "You look as if you're going to murder me, Yylfordt," he stated calmly. "What? Gonna get your whack-job of a brother in here to dissect me?" The 13th let out a hardy laugh. "That crazy ass bastard doesn't even like you! The day you die would be the day he'd never stop smiling." Usually, the red head (or was it really brown?) was a kind and respectful man, however, something about the amount of grunt work he had been doing lately put him on pins and needles. Besides that, he (nor anyone else) had eaten a proper, fulfilling meal in months. It was enough to make the man have temporary insanity.
"T-That's not true! Stop saying lies like that." It was obvious that the mention of Szayel's hatred was what really got to him. Even though his brother had expressed his ill-feelings towards him numerous times, Yylfordt wouldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. After all, hate isn't something that brothers have for each other.
"Or what?" Edrad was only a foot away from the blonde now. He was just itching for a fight ever since they had joined Aizen; the only time they ever get to remotely go 'all out' was during the time that their 'lord' was putting ranks on everyone. "Are you going to cry, louse?"
"I'm going to kill you, that's what's going to happen!" His eyes were wild as he grabbed the hilt of his zanpakuto.
"Kill me? Like hell!" Edrad mimicked his opponents move, ready to shout out the release command in a second's notice. "If you try it then I don't want you hating me later if I shred you to pieces."
By now, Grimmjow had grown rather tired with all of the yelling that had been going around. Add that with the fact that he was still frustrated over being bored so long and his regular pissy mood, and you'll get the perfect Jaggerjack time bomb. "Guys..." His tone was sing-song and quiet, but the irritation in his voice was hard to miss.
"I'd like to see you try, you over-grown pile of shit!" With that remark, Yylfordt drew Del Toro and aimed it straight at Edrad's forehead.
"I don't think it'd be a wise idea for you to release yourself, Mr. Grantz."
"Oh, guys..." His tone was a little louder, but hardly heard by his subordinates.
"Stupid boy. C'mon then!" Edrad withdrew his weapon as well, completely ignoring Shawlong's previous warning.
Surprise, surprise...
"Skewer..."
"Could you tone it down a little? My head is beginning to hurt." It was loud enough for Shawlong to hear this time.
"I'm serious, you two. Stop this now before he decides to kill all of us!"
"Hmph. Erupt..."
With a heavy and defeated sigh, Shawlong gave up on trying to assist the pair in living longer. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he huffed, his body moving swiftly towards the exit. "Di Roy, Nakeem - I suggest we leave unharmed while we can." He didn't turn around to make sure his commerades were smart enough to follow, it wasn't his job to babysit, but he was kind enough to leave the door open if they were.
"Whatever you say," smirked Di Roy, a psychotic smile plastered on his face from the thought of the shit the pair had put themselves into. Nakeem, who knew full and well of his leader's wrath, followed close behind the short Arrancar and closed the door behind them.
"Do you think that you all could just..."
Meanwhile, the air had grown thick from the clash of spiritual pressure, the medium-sized room being filled with grunts, heavy breathing, and dust scattering about. The two Arrancar were more than ready to spar, each of them fighting for completely different reasons: Yylfordt fought to shut up the bully; Edrad fought to blow off steam. Suddenly, all was quiet, but it only lasted for a mere second. The two lunged at each other and a high-pitched clang followed after their swords collided.
"Del Toro!" shouted Yylfordt.
"...Be so kind as to..." He had risen from his place on the ground, his right hand gripping the side of his head. If one were to try to listen carefully, it would be easy to hear a growl. As well as the faint 'crackle' that came with the forming of a powerful Cero.
"Volcanica!" roared Edrad.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" barked Grimmjow just seconds before firing three consecutive Cero at his underlings; one for the 13th, the second to kill the blubbering blond, and the third to get rid of any of the remains. Sadly, he soon saw that the pair had managed to barely dodge the attacks; however, all was not lost, the two of them did manage to shut up and return to their regular forms quickly after the blasts. While they stood far away from their pissed off leader with expressions of shame marring their features, Grimmjow passed them and headed out the door to find Aizen. Whether it was the idea that took four ours to get across or not, today was the day he'd ask for a new Fraccion.