So. Yeah. This is a...uh. Thing I had in my head. It's not really different from most anything I've written, and I'm not looking to be all new and fresh with ideas. I just wanted to write it, so I did. Asking won't get it updated any faster, but I'd like to hear that you're interested in it? Enjoy~

"This way... hurry up!" The voice was hushed, for certain, but urgent and commanding. It belonged to a thin man-- a teenager, really-- with flowing blonde hair and a long face that showed only annoyance at his companions. If they could really be called companions. Associates, perhaps? Nah, that was putting it way too formally. Acquaintances? Too general. To hell with it, they were co-workers. Not that being a slave (Oh, no, wait-- their king had referred to them as servants. Right. Like that was better.) was really a job in the sense that you could quit or you got breaks or... well, anything, really, except for the working part.

Regardless, there was a group of them, all focused on one goal: Escape. The demanding child that led the pack shot a glare over his shoulder as whispers from the group resonated through the empty halls. Everyone had been gathered at a ceremony for...whatever, he didn't care to remember, and he had plotted that exact time to make his big break. It was a fool-proof plan. Now if only he hadn't brought these damn fools along with him.

"Oi, I said shut up!" Hushed, still, but no quieter than the ones he was scolding.

"I didn't hear anything about shuttin' up, just hurry up!" Narrowed hazel eyes burned their way toward their 'leader'. A short sigh cut off an ending retort and a hand came to brush through vibrant-- noticeable-- orange locks. "Shouldn't you be paying attention to what's in front of you, anyway? Stop looking back here!"

"Shaddup. I gotta make sure none of ya are fallin' behind, don't I?" Another scowl and the blonde paused at an approaching corner. Gritting his teeth against the possibility of finding the few, lurking guards that managed to escape the ceremonial duties, he peeked around the wall. "We're good. C'mon, hurry up."

"Uh..."

"Uh?"

"Uh."

"Uh wha--" The scowling blonde seemed to lose his impatience once his head snapped back to realize the hold up. Busted.

Casually leaning against the opposite side of the long hallway the group had just successfully maneuvered, a young boy grinned freely at the escapees. "Uh oh," he chided in a lazy, sing-song voice. "Someone's bein' naughty."

"Get outta here, kid," the leader hissed. "We ain't got time t' play with ya today."

"Play?" The child seemed intrigued by the thought, but as he pushed off the wall to saunter toward the group, his expression didn't indicate a young boy with an interest in throwing a ball around or taking part in a game of chess. His grin only grew wider as he came face-to-... well, stomach, with the tall blonde. His head cocked back to peer up at the frowning teenager and linked his arms behind his silver-coated head. "I don't think ya oughta be playin' right now. Ain't there somewhere you're s'pposed t' be?"

"Shouldn't ya be there, too?" His teeth grit against each other again. "Get outta here, Gin."

"Hmmm..." For a moment, he looked as though he might consider doing just that. His grin diminished into a thoughtful frown and his eyes opened a bit wider than usual-- which wasn't much to speak of, at all.

"Well?" Impatience, the ''servant' had never learned, was a fault.

"...Nope." The grin returned and the child stepped back a short way, around the corner that the group was huddled by. "Hey! Guards! There are some slaves tryin' t' escape!"

"Son of a-- Come on!" With a low growl, Shinji whipped away from the corner and the loud child, darting back down the way they had just come. A glance over his shoulder showed that while his group had chosen to follow him, so had some of the lingering guards. "The hell they come from?!" he demanded.

"Nice one," another of the group scoffed. Flashy red hair tied high atop the young teen's head swung back and forth wildly with each hasty step. "Next time, save your bright ideas for a plan that only gets you in trouble."

"Trouble won't be the only thing this'll get us," the sole female of the group assured the rest. She was a head or two shorter than all the rest, and her peculiar black hair curved upwards in a way that was surely unnatural.

"Renji, ya chose t' come with me!" the blonde reminded in an irritated voice, racing down a corridor he hoped was empty. "An' Rukia, ya shut up, too. Don't give 'em ideas."

"Ideas?" Not so empty, as it turned out. The voice halted the group's progress immediately, each member sharing their own expression of fear or disgust. "Do I put forth an image so unimaginative that I appear to be in need of ideas regarding punishment for a few, unruly servants?"

"You." The single word was uttered with possibly more disgust than was normally manageable. This was no normal circumstance, though, and certainly no normal encounter. "Aizen."

Standing tall and proud, donned in luxurious, light-colored garments that flattered his broad-shouldered figure, their king loomed. His shadow, enhanced by the bright afternoon sun pouring in from the open doors behind him, engulfed the runaways like shackles-- something they were curiously free of. He didn't appear upset by the situation; quite the opposite, in fact, with a soft look to his eyes and a light smile lining his , at least he didn't appear upset.

"And you are the most impudent of them all, aren't you?" As he spoke, he advanced slowly, regally. "Hirako."

This only caused the teen in question to grit his teeth-- a habit he was rather fond of when irritated-- and snarl a bit as response. "Ya ain't seen the worst of me, yet."

"Such energy," the king spoke lowly, stopping mere inches away from his captured prey (because he certainly possessed all the qualities of a fine predator). His hand came up, firmly cupping the younger male's cheek. "You should put more of that effort into your work, rather than futile attempts at escape." A light chuckle rose from his throat. "How many does that make this? Four? Five?"

"Shaddup," Shinji barked, looking on everything like a feral dog. "Maybe if ya turned your damn back for once, I'd actually make it outta here."

"Mind your tongue, trash." This voice was hardly new, and the collected, condescending tone that came with it was nearly as irritating as Gin's or Aizen's. It belonged to a relatively short, extremely pale-skinned man with piercing green eyes and a mess of black hair. It was a running joke-- all of Aizen's close companions and advisors were so pale because they were never forced outdoors under the harsh sun. Indeed, both Gin and this Ulquiorra were whiter than a sheet of bleached papyrus paper.

"The hell'd ya call me?" Shinji demanded, yanking his chin from Aizen's grip to point his face in the guard's direction-- oh, excuse him, head of the Royal Guard. Pfft.

"I refuse to waste my breath on such irrelevant scum." He had appeared by Aizen's side, his cold gaze seeping into Shinji's own enraged one. No sooner did the words leave his lips than his arm extended, hand firmly wrapping around the blonde's throat. "Or shall I simply rid Lord Aizen of your bothersome presence, now?"

Shinji was an instinctual creature, and so his immediate reaction was to fight back against something that was assaulting him in such an obvious way. His hand never raised further than a foot before Aizen's words reached his ears, weighing down on him like a crushing wave.

"I'm afraid I will not be able to excuse your actions, Hirako," he spoke, the soft smile disappearing into a concerned expression, "if they continue upon their intended path." As expected, the blonde's hand dropped (with some effort) back to his side. Also, as anticipated, came the demand to call off his 'guard dog' and the inevitable questioning gaze from said mutt. "I believe a short break from the stress of work will clear your head." Aizen tilted his head in Ulquiorra's direction. "Take Hirako and his friends to the dungeon, and make an effort not to maim him too terribly." That smirk again. "Such a pretty face should remain unblemished, if at all possible."

"You son of a--" Shinji restrained every fiber in his body begging him to attack as his narrowed eyes found Aizen's back turning from him and departing back to the outside world-- toward the freedom he longed for. "Aizen! This ain't over! Just ya wait!"

"Come," Ulquiorra ordered calmly, shoving a hand into the small of Shinji's back, directing him toward a place he knew all too well.

"Shoulda known this would turn out bad," Renji muttered under his breath, trudging along behind his 'leader', as he, Rukia, and Ichigo were escorted by half a dozen guards toward their destination.

"This is a bunch of shit," Shinji growled through the bars that were closed before him. He glowered at Ulquiorra as the stoic guard departed the dank dungeon with no parting words.

"You're just pissy because you got chained up," Ichigo commented idly, held in a neighboring cell. While the lead of the pack had the privilege of his own, personal cage, the rest of the conspirators were shoved into one. Of course, the upside (if it could be called that) was that their hands weren't chained to a wall.

"Ya'd be pissy, too!" Shinji snapped back, the heavy links rattling as his body instinctively leaned toward the boy he wanted to rip to shreds at the moment.

"Keep it down, would ya?" This voice was just as, if not more, disgruntle than Shinji's, and held a rougher, edgier tone to it. "S'bad enough I gotta be stuck in here. I don't need a bunch've loudmouthed idiots makin' noise."

"Grimmjow." Shinji's tone held a touch of loathing toward the azure-haired man, but also one of slight pity. Grimmjow was probably the one person in the entire palace that was down here more than he was. Though, granted, his acts were a bit more of a violent nature than the failed escape artist's. "Thought ya'd be dead, by now."

"As if," the unruly man snorted, sounding for the world like he was sitting on a throne instead of a cold, prison floor. "Ya know they can't get rid of me."

"Why not?" Shinji muttered, glancing through the empty rows of prison cells-- they had been sealed off pretty far back for being the only ones in there. "I don't see why the bastard don't get rid of us both. Ain't like we ever sit still long enough to do any real work."

"Don't complain," Ichigo told him, in a tone that suggested he was a complete idiot. "Or you really will be dead next time."

"Ain't complainin'." Shinji began tugging at the chains, checking their resistance and weak spots. "I also sure as hell ain't stayin' down here until he decides to let me out."

"You're not going to try and run again, are you?" Rukia asked, her wide eyes stretching open even more at the thought.

"Run? Hell no. I've had enough of that." Slowly, the blonde's teeth came to grate against each other as he gave the binds another good yank. "I'm takin' the bastard out."