Randomness of the Nice-overse!

A Collection of Bleached Cracky Tales:

Alternate universes are weird.

In some, those who you would be sure are completely respectful and self-controlled lads and lasses are actually quite... rape-y...

In others, the kind-hearted are nasty and the nasty are nice and give money to charities for puppies with cancer. There's even one particular mind-f%*$ingly confusing one where Head Captain Kenpachi Unohana had made peace with the Arrancar Lord Arturo Plateado in the year 304 A.D. and there hadn't been any wars between the two societies since. And then there was that one where all the Arrancar were Soul Reapers and all the Soul Reapers were Arrancar. Oh, and there were over five hundred thousand Quincys still living.

Thankfully for any inter-dimensional travelers from the universe we are all familiar with, this particular alternate one is decidedly less different from ours. Some people are kinder or harsher, others who were once calm and passive are loud and aggressive, or vice versa. But there's no gender-bending, no age-swapping, no ancient event that completely rewrote history as we know it. The only thing that comes close is Sosuke Aizen's slight alteration to his Soul Reaper-y-ness...

He isn't one at all here--an Arrancar instead. Former Espada, actually, once a Quinta before he was replaced by Nnoitora Gilga (which turned out to be a set-up... Nnoitora was in on it along with Neliel Tu Oderschvank...). But, obviously, still the same cunning and vile bastard we all love to hate...

Others, however, are changed in more subtle ways. Some for the worse, and others for the better...

Chapter 1:

Everyone Has Their Weaknesses...

The Novena was one such Arrancar who was only slightly... yet profoundly different than his canonical counterpart. Were you to meet him in the universe you know, then it would be time to run. Or perhaps to soil yourself to make you less delicious. Not so here... Though there were some obvious similarities...

Gnomnomnomnamunchnomnnoshnom nomnom...

What looked like the deceased Kaien Shiba in a Soldado white-and-black uniform leaned nonchalantly against a table bearing a large spread. However, he was not Kaien, nor was he simply loitering by all the tempting food...

From one side it seemed that way... But from the other, it was clear he had his left arm hidden behind his back and poking around at the food. A limp glove hung from his other hand, and he peeked around warily for any watchers that might be witnessing the disturbing binge.

The Novena's left hand... was not a hand...

It was a mouth, surrounded by slimy tentacles. Which was currently devouring every thing on every platter that it bumped into. Problematic in that occasionally he attempted to eat a fork or a ladle.

"Ack..." Aaroniero's false face choked a bit simultaneously with his real mouth. He snuck a glance behind him to see what inedible thing his mutated mouth had accidentally engulfed this time. It was another fork.

Wincing, the Espada picked the silverware from his unique appendage with his normal hand and hid it discreetly under the rim of an already emptied platter. A servant neared!

Aaroniero straightened, desperate to not lock eyes with the woman. Was she looking? Did she sniff in disgust just then because she'd spotted his left...arm? Was she walking away with that dishrag because he'd freaked her out? So often were his questions unanswered! The possibility of a witness to his unfortunate nastiness... the stress...

Hmm... Stress...

"Oh, please let there be a cheesecake..." he whimpered, leaning back a little further and reaching with his tentacled maw to a new grazing area.

Noshnommnommnarmnomnoshnamyu mmnoshyammyumm...

There, that was better. That relieved his stress somewhat. The Novena's borrowed face grinned indulgently; he had found the cheesecake. It had strawberries and everything! He was so immersed in gorging himself that he didn't even notice the light footsteps stopping just a few feet away.

"Umm... Aaroniero?"

The feverish munching ground to a halt and Aaroniero froze. Looking over slowly, he couldn't help but unleash a nervous giggle.

"Y-yeah..?" he stammered a bit upon seeing who it was that had noticed his odd behavior. Octava Szayel Aporro Grantz. The Arrancar scientist had a puzzled look on his normally benignly smiling face, his hands clasped behind his back.

"...Are you going to eat all of that?"

"... No." Aaroniero drooped his head guiltily as he slid his mouthed arm away from the remaining foodstuffs. Slipping his concealing glove back on, he took a moment to squirm his tentacles back into the rough shape of a human hand, "Well... Maybe..."

Szayel eyed the furtive movements and crossed his arms across his slight chest. His head was shaking in a disapproving way, and Aaroniero shuffled.

"Aaroniero," he said, arching one eyebrow. "Why are you hiding your weird?"

The Novena was helplessly silent, lacing and unlacing his gloved fingers (and "fingers") together. The discussion had been had before. Aaroniero still did not find it comfortable.

"Hunhhh..." Szayel sighed, wandering to the table side (and its fare intended for a great deal more people than just Aaroniero) and picking up an oer'derve, "You know better than to hide your uniqueness, least of all to me. There's no judgment on you here--we're all at least some degree of strange."

"Okay... but..." Aaroniero's words caught in his throat, "The last time I, er... was myself... I scared the orphans..."

"No wonder! They're children, Aaroniero, in mind as well as body. Children don't know better than to recoil in fear from one who looks different than them..." Szayel popped the oer'derve into his mouth, "Mmf! What are these..? Some kind of cheese-filled somesuch..?"

"Yeah... Ricotta and Parmesan..." Aaroniero's eyes were riveted on the plate holding the rest of the morsels. Szayel blinked several times, noticing this.

"...Haven't you had enough already?" Szayel selected another of the cheesy snacks, "Or are you still hungry?"

He extended the hand with the small dumpling thing held pinched in it. Aaroniero stared, trying to keep his hidden jaws from oozing onto his glove too heavily. He hesitated, spotting the movements of various civilians and servant-class Fracciónes in his periphery.

"But, erm..." The Novena withdrew his left arm, sticking it firmly behind his back and clasping it tightly with his right hand to restrain it, "There's... people watching over there..."

"Oh, come off it!"

"But they'll see..."

"So what? What does it matter that they know? I..." Szayel paused, tapping the side of his glasses-like mask fragment matter-of-factly, "...Have seen much much worse predicaments than your current arrangement."

"...You're lying to make me feel better..."

"No, I am not. I'm this close to breaking confidentiality agreements with several of my patients..." The Octava gulped down the oer'derve that was taking up the use of his index finger and thumb, and then held them millimeters apart from each other, "Now, trust me... It won't be that bad. Maybe a little extra attention for a few moments, then they'll forget all about the Espada that happens to have their mouth on their hand--"

"Gkk...shhh..!" Aaroniero flinched as Szayel's volume rose. The passel of female Arrancar that had just passed them glanced over for a second, but did not seem to have been paying attention to what the pink-haired Octava had been saying. Szayel chuckled deep in his throat to himself and re-crossed his arms.

"Now see there? They barely even payed attention to the thing you're so terrified of revealing..." Szayel leaned back on the table, "They more stared at your... Exaggerated reaction."

"But..." Aaroniero was confronted with a look of sheer confident determination on the face of his fellow Espada. He sighed in defeat, hanging both his arms and turning to the plate of cheesy thingies, "...Okay, fine. Just this once... And if they... freak out..."

"The ones that matter won't." Szayel's statement was coupled with a triumphant smirk. Aaroniero was not so sure, though arguing more was pointless. Szayel had been an Espada a few more decades longer than he had, and the seniority the scientist felt was almost palpable.

"Whatever you say..." Aaroniero unsheathed his Glotonería, his only means of feeding himself. The gaping circular hole, lined with row upon row of large horrendous teeth, was shiny with saliva and visible slime even though the Novena was doing all he could with the surrounding tentacles to conceal the nastiest part of the appendage. Grimacing, he plucked up one of the oer'derves and crammed it hastily into the eager hole.

"Ah...AIEEEE!"

One of the women that had passed just a few moments before had chosen this moment to run back to the refreshment table for a drink refill. And, her timing be damned, she had blundered right into... that.

Aaroniero jumped in alarm at the sound, instinctively fumbling for the long glove on the table side. The female Arrancar stood stock-still, mouth gaping and one hand trembling in a half-formed pointing gesture. Szayel slapped his face in his palm and stepped slightly in front of what had so shocked her. Of all the people to ruin his attempt to pep up the awkward Novena... It would have to be one of the new generation of Arrancar: Not even ten or so years as one of the spiritual beings... And definitely not fully versed in Arrancar lore and etiquette yet.

"Ma'am, calm yourself," he said, giving her a soft glare of warning. "Why are you screaming..? There's no threat in here. Are you perhaps ill or over-stressed today..?"

"Umm...uhh..." The woman shook her head as if to clear it, still trying to peer past the Octava's figure to glimpse once more the weird left arm of the Novena, "I, um, sorry, I... I wasn't ready to see... such a... a, uh..."

"A what?" Szayel leaned in closer to her, one eyebrow raised quizzically but his eyes made completely out of accusation, "Were you not familiar with the physical appearance of your Novena Espada?"

"Oh, no... Szayel, please..." Aaroniero had finally gotten his glove back on. He had moved to hide slightly more behind the eccentric scientist, but poked his head out to try and un-sicc the Octava from the ignorant young woman.

"Ah, ah, ah--let me handle it." Szayel thrust up a dramatic hand, silencing the Novena's squeamish protests, "Disrespect to an Espada, no matter how new an Espada, must be rectified in due course. Now, ma'am, your name?"

"Aimee," she whimpered, having little knowledge to draw on about the nature of the "rectification" to which the Octava was referring. "Aimee F-Folcatta..."

"Aimee Folcatta!" Szayel thumped one soft-soled shoe on the floor slightly, standing to his full height and looking down on her officiously, "Do you concede that your behavior has caused the Novena upset and generally disrespected his peace?"

"Yes, sir..."

"So... Apologize to him." Szayel stepped aside before Aaroniero could stop him, leaving him exposed and face-to-face with the quivering girl.

"Ah, umm..." The Novena tried to stand up straighter, feeling all the eyes prying in his direction. At least sunlight didn't get into this room during the day. He didn't think he could bear it to have them all staring at his real face(s), "Ah, it's okay, really. I... I don't really mind..."

Aaroniero was forced to shush due to Szayel's foot coming down slightly hard on the back of his foot. The Octava shot a look to Aimee, indicating that she should continue with her apology.

"My Lord." She shakily dropped to one knee, then both knees as she lowered herself even further, "I'm d-deeply sorry for upsetting you. I-I didn't intend to react to your... your..."

She was not able to make the rest of her plea known, however. The Novena had had enough, flitting away from the table side and out of reach of the overseeing Octava, heading towards the corridor out of this main hall before either party could respond. Szayel opened his mouth to call after him, but it was no use. Aaroniero was well out of sight by now, his Sonído slower than the scientist's but nothing to sneeze at either. With a sigh, the Octava dismissed Aimee with a tap on her shoulder, muttering reassurances that the fleeing Espada was not angry with her or leaving due to anything she had done.

"Lord Arulerie... Lord Arulerie, are you alright in there?"

"Go away!"

Aaroniero was holed up like a rabbit pursued by hounds. Except that instead of the hounds wanting to tear the bunny to bits and eat it, these "hounds" were merely trying to get him to show his face. Which ever one he chose to show them.

The mirror in his bathroom was like the ones in the other Espada's quarters: Dramatically large, a long shimmery rectangle. When he looked up again from his perch on the (closed) toilet he saw Kaien Shiba. It wasn't real, but it was presentable. It was such a shame his disguise wouldn't work in the sun. Other lights wouldn't interfere, but the sun always burned it off like biting acid.

"Stupid sun..." he growled to himself into his knees. His Fracciónes were probably still loitering around in his quarters, waiting on him to calm down and come back out. They might be waiting a long time.

"My Lord..?" It was Tollefson, he could tell from the gruff voice, always sounding as if he was dubious about anything he encountered. This time, the inflection was appropriate, "Sir, when do you think you're coming out? It's getting late..."

"I'll come out when I come out!" Aaroniero turned away from the locked door, "Now go away!"

"Lord Arulerie." It was a different Fracción, one of the Soldado class named Vánesse. He sounded out of breath, "Sorry to disturb you, sir... But I've been alerted to the fact that there is to be a Meeting of Espadas in one hour."

There was a pause. Aaroniero could hear the panting breaths of Vánesse and the nervous shuffling of at least three other Arrancar standing outside. Along with his own uncontrolled huffs.

"Sir... Are you going to attend?"

"I don't know!" The Espada was losing patience with them, forgetting that their only reason for badgering him was a concern for his well-being. An unintentional boost of spiritual power provoked a few startled grunts and half-choked squeals from a few of the huddled Fracciónes, "Just leave me alone!"

The shuffling continued for a moment, then gradually began to fade. In the distance, lowered voices were audible as Vánesse held a hurried conference with the servants, then there was a sound of the door to his quarters clicking shut. Aaroniero relaxed and let his legs slip from their bunched position against his chest. They had finally obeyed his orders, left him alone. He brought his head back up, and once again the mirror told him what he wanted to see. Kaien's face reflected back at him, looking critical even though Aaroniero was in control of the expression it held.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" He asked his reflection. Of course, there was no response, only Kaien's face lip-syncing whatever Aaroniero chose to say. Before he was sure where Nejibana, the "extra zanpakuto", or this Soul Reaper's visage had come from he often wondered if there was some other soul, another consciousness, occupying this body. But no, there was no one else. It was just him, alone, with his two mutant faces and disgusting left arm. He barely even passed as a human Arrancar.

Flinching, Aaroniero let his false face come away, dispersing in a cloud of reddish-violet mist. Now the mirror showed him his true appearance:

It was nothing like the one he showed to the world when the sun was hidden or muted. In place of the expressive brown eyes were two pairs of sunken, pale yellow ones. Both heads bobbed in a viscous translucent fluid reminiscent of dilute blood, the mouths thin-lipped and full of crooked teeth. At least, that was where the grotesque fragments of rutted and bone-like mask did not cover. And all this was contained within the tough container of clear mystery material that had several times earned him the nickname of "Buckethead".

"I'm so ugly..." the lower head spoke, its voice now a high squeak like that of a choked-up child.

"Why am I like this?" The upper head's voice was low and grumbling, at least three times deeper than that of the head below it, "Can I even call... this... an Arrancar?"

Aaroniero sighed with both voices, hanging his head slightly so that he could not longer see the reflection of his true faces.

"Maybe when I turned... Something messed up. Maybe I'm stuck as a part-Hollow..." Again, his voice was a plaintive whine.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Aaroniero!"

The Novena jumped and scrambled to reach his false mask bit that he often wore over top of his true appearance when the sun was out. The voice outside the door belonged to Szayel Aporro.

"You're either a Hollow or not a Hollow. You can not be halfway!"

"I thought I told everyone I wanted to be left alone."

"You may want to be left alone, but you need to talk to someone." The firmness of the Octava's voice shook Aaroniero's temper a bit, knocking him out of his repellant mood, "It's basic psychology."

"I don't wanna talk. I just want to be alone for a bit..."

"Aaroniero, listen to me," Szayel sounded as if he were projecting his voice straight through the keyhole; it reverberated all around the white stone that made up the walls with a ferocity that further quailed the Novena's foul mood. "You are an Espada. You are the Novena. People here in Las Noches look up to you and respect your strength. There are hundreds of weaker warriors who would love to be you. You have three dozen Fracciónes who would do anything you asked them. The other Espadas look to you as an equal, someone who can aid in the struggle to keep our people safe from the threats we have looming over us! No matter what you look like, you are revered here! Perhaps even loved! What's important here is not what Aaroniero Arulerie the Novena Espada looks like, but that he is our Novena. And hear this before you say anything else so utterly self-loathing--we don't care what your faces look like, we care about you."

Aaroniero stared at the door with all four eyes blinking in their turn. He had never heard Szayel have his voice raised for quite this long. He felt verbally slapped in the faces, the only way to actually slap his faces.

"...So, Aaroniero... Are we clear?"

The door creaked as Aaroniero pushed it open a few inches. There were a few seconds of pause where a small squelching sound echoed through the room, then the Espada stepped out. Kaien's face had returned, concealing the Novena's true appearance. Szayel smiled slightly, shaking his head still.

"Well, this is something at least," he said, adjusting some of his bangs. "Now, come. There's a meeting in one hour, did you hear? If we're going to walk there, we'll have to leave now..."

Szayel's rambling trailed off in a muffled yelp as the Novena's arms wrapped around him suddenly. Trapped in a bear-like hug, the Octava grunted as he extricated one of his arms and gave Aaroniero's back a weak pat.

"What's... all this, my friend?" The Octava blinked, making certain that the other Espada's strong grip did not cut off his air supply unintentionally. Aaroniero didn't say anything for a long while, burrowing his false head into the slightly shorter man's shoulder.

"You all really... give a crap about Aaroniero..?" Szayel made out the words from where the Novena's face was buried in his shirt. With a sigh, the Octava returned the hug with a great deal less gusto and gave the strange Arrancar another gentle pat on the back.

"Yes, we do. We give a great deal more than a crap about you."

Aaroniero gave a small sob, to which Szayel rapped him on the back of the head with one knuckle and chuckled.

"Alright, alright. That's enough. You start and you'll have me going in no time."

"S-sorry..." Aaroniero quickly disengaged from the embrace, lacing and unlacing his fingers, "I got a little... emotional and stuff..."

"That's fine. Hugs are something I take in any form," he laughed again, swiping displaced hair away from his amber eyes. "Though I usually prefer them from women..."

"Umm..." The Novena gave the eccentric Octava an odd look. A long, odd look.

"Ahaha... Er, well, that did come off a little creepy, didn't it?" The Octava gestured towards the door, "Sorry. It's something of a habit with me. Now... Weren't we headed off to a meeting?"

"... Yeah."

"Well... Onwards?"

"Yeah, let's go..."

Author's Notes: Please read and review, especially if you spot an issue! I proofread these, but nobody's perfect!

Aww... The nasty are nice and the nice are... well, the "nicer" characters haven't shown themselves just yet. Poor awkward Aaroniero. Who else would hug this one? No takers? Eh?

Also, voices of double-heads work like this: The top head with the deep voice talks like this. And the bottom, squeaky head talks like this. When they speak at the same time it looks like this.

And when it's Aaroniero using Kaien's face... The dialogue is normal!

Also also: I accept suggestions more chapters! Ask me to do one with any character you wish, and I'll do what I can! I am your humble servant!

Aaroniero: If you give me hugs... I will give you a cheesecake!