Title: What did you just call me!
Rating: T for language. (Blame Ilfort and Grimmjow)
Summary: A few random arguments from some of the most likely arrancars.
Pairings: none
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach in any way, shape or form.
First argument: Ulquiorra and Grimmjow.
"Open the door, trash." Ulquiorra said firmly, knocking for the near tenth time.
The door opened and a groggy looking Grimmjow glared daggers at the other.
"I was sleeping! What the hell do you want!" the sexta shouted, clearly irritable from being woken up.
"You'd have been better off opening the door earlier. I was told by Aizen-sama to make sure everyone was awake for the meeting in fifteen minutes."
Blue eyes widened at the time.
"Why the hell didn't you show up earlier!" he snapped.
"I did, but you didn't answer your door. I've been stuck out here a good twenty minutes now." the quarto enlightened him.
"Who the hell waits outside someone's room for 20 minutes without receiving a damned reply!"
"I do when I'm under orders. Now clean yourself up, trash, you're a mess."
That said, the quarto turned and left. Not surprisingly, Grimmjow had arrived late to the meeting that day.
Second argument: Szayel and Ilfort.
Ilfort stormed down the halls of Los Noches, mumbling curses as he went. It was just a simple training session, but that idiot Nakeem had gotten so carried away that he had broken the blonde's arm in three places. He tried to play it off like it was nothing, but trying to get a serious injury by Grimmjow unnoticed was near impossible. Now he HAD to get his injury checked, and the only medic in Los Noches was the only arrancar he didn't want to see. Especially in such pathetic condition.
He glared at the eight painted on the door before giving a knock, hoping the other wasn't there. Unfortunately for him, no such luck came his way.
"It's open." He heard his younger brother's voice call out from the other side of the door.
"Damn." he murmured, before opening the door and stepping inside.
The room's decor was rather offensive in Ilfort's eyes, but that might just have been because he didn't care much for pink and purple, and at first glance, his eyes skimmed right over his brother, filling out paperwork at his desk.
Amber eyes rose to meet Ilfort's gaze, and the pink haired man across the room gave a wicked grin once he saw who he would be addressing.
"Well now, look what the wind blew in. You're the last person I would have expected here." Szayel sneered.
Ilfort glared at him before giving a reply.
"I'm not here on my own accord, brother. If it were up to me, I would've sooner gone without treating my wounds than come to you for help, but Grimmjow wouldn't have it."
"Oh, tou-chy." Szayel stated, pronouncing 'touchy' by over-emphasizing each syllable.
"Just fix it so I can go." Ilfort snapped, not really in the mood to deal with his brother today.
Szayel glared at his older brother before standing up and closing the distance between them.
"Fine then, what did you do?" the pink-haired scientist asked, seeming bored with his brother's presence already.
Ilfort held a fierce look with the other before giving a response.
"I didn't do anything-" he was cut off there.
"The fact that you're here says otherwise."
"Shut up and listen! Don't think because you're an espada you don't have to show me respect! I'm still older than you by two years!" Ilfort shouted, already out of patience.
"You shut up! I don't care if you're older or not, I'm doing you a favor, so don't you dare talk down to me!" Szayel retorted.
"You call doing your freaking job a favor! I didn't even want your help! If I had it my way, I would've left my arm broken then come to you!"
"If that's true, then why don't you just go!"
"Maybe I will!"
"FINE!"
"FINE!"
With that Ilfort left, slamming the door behind him as he went. However, it wasn't until he was halfway back to his own room that he realized that his arm was still broken in three places, and he had forgotten to get Szayel to treat his injuries before he left. He groaned in irritation, trying to figure out how to explain this to his boss.
Third argument: Aaroniero head 1 and Aaroniero head 2.
It's true when they say that you are your own worst critic, but Aaroniero took that saying to a whole new level. Today's topic: how to spell the word mosquito.
"I've told you a thousand times, it's M-O-S-K-I-T-O!" the high-pitched head shouted.
The second head however, wasn't going to have that.
"And I've told you it's not! It's M-O-S-K-E-E-T-O-E!"
"No it isn't!"
"Yes it is!"
"Then why don't you prove it!" head one challenged.
"Why don't you!" the second head countered.
"You're just angry because you know I'm right!"
"That theory can be eliminated immediately since you're obviously wrong!"
"Shut up! You stay on your side of the vat and I'll stay on mine!" head one finally shouted in irritation.
"FINE!"
"FINE!"
"SHUT UP! WHAT IS WITH ALL THE YELLING IN HERE!" Szayel shouted from the doorway.
"He's telling me I'm spelling mosquito wrong when I'm clearly right!" head one piped up.
"He's obviously wrong, but he's just too stubborn to admit it!" head two shouted.
"SHUT UP! Ilfort already put me in a bad mood today; I don't need noisy neighbors on top of that! Mosquito is spelled M-O-S-Q-U-I-T-O, now shut up or I'll pull you both out of the vat and let you suffocate!"
More irritated, Szayel slammed the noveno espada's door and left in a huff. Stunned, both heads remained silent, neither daring to break the silence that followed for the rest of that day.
Fourth argument: Grimmjow and Szayel.
Grimmjow pounded angrily on the octava's door, now at his wit's end. First Ulquiorra making him late for the meeting that morning, then Nakeem breaking Ilfort's arm in three places while he was explaining himself to Aizen-sama. Then Ilfort came back, arm still broken and in a terrible mood. Now he was wasting his time trying to get the octava to treat Ilfort's injuries because Szayel was stubborn enough not to do so the first time.
"Szayel, open the damned door! I have a bone to pick with you!" the sexta shouted.
The door flew open, and a very irritated Szayel was glaring at him.
"It's Szayel Apporro! Why in Aizen's name does everybody shorten my first name to Szayel, when my first name is Szayel Apporro!" the scientist scoffed, pent-up frustration lacing his tone dangerously.
"Doesn't matter! I'm here because you didn't treat Ilfort's injuries!" the blue-nette said harshly.
The other rolled his amber eyes before raising both hands in irritation and turning back into his room.
"Don't even say the 'I' word! He's the reason I've been in a bad mood all morning!" the pink-haired man retorted.
Grimmjow growled before darting in after the other.
"I don't care about your petty problems, I have problems of my own to deal with. Now, as your superior I order you to get your pink ass down there and treat his wounds."
"Fine, but you can count on being short a lung when you wake up tomorrow morning!" Szayel shouted vehemently.
Grimmjow's eyes narrowed.
"Are you threatening me?" he growled.
"Try and keep up. Even someone with your level of intelligence should be able to pick up on such a simple thing."
That being said, Szayel grabbed his supplies and left, leaving a very angry Grimmjow following behind, cursing as he went.
A.Q.: I'm so lazy. That was all I felt like doing although there were countless others that could fight with one another. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading. Also, suggestions are appreciated. So long as I know the character I'll see if it makes it into chapter two. Btw, this is only a two-shot so the ideas are first-come, first-served, and I'll only put a maximum of eight arguments next chapter. So if you have an idea, send it in and I'll see what I can do. Bai bai.
