Empathy, Sympathy, and Really Nice Boots
Duncan flipped a switch on the neon sign, and the glow in the window faded as the red-lighted "Open" turned into a lifeless grey. He sighed, his hand rubbing through his short hair making a scritch-scratch as he blinked tiredly.
Turning to the inside of the pub, he looked to the bar area at the keep, who was chatting with the last customer for the night.
"Alright, Tia, I'm heading home..." He eyed the purple-haired goddess on the stool and motioned vaguely at her.
Tia Halibel put on her most friendly human smile and have a short wave back. "Alright, Dunc. See you tomorrow." She surreptitiously shook her head. Yoruichi Shihoin was a...friend...and no threat to the disguised Arrancar.
The large man shrugged and turned to leave. "Alright, then. Lock up when you go, ok?" Without waiting for a response, the bouncer let himself out into the rainy night, pulling his coat on as he did.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Tia pulled out a shot glass and slammed back some brandy. She didn't normally do that, but tonight was the Shark Queen's night to pull graveyard shift, and she felt that a little liquid reward was in order now that it was through.
Yoruichi chuckled. "Day that long, eh?"
Tia Halibel rolled her green eyes, brushing one of her long braids out of her face as she did. "Humans have got to be some of the stupidest cattle in the Realms, and the males are the worst. What part of 'Not Interested' is so hard to understand? Do I have to publicly emasculate someone to get the message across?" She sighed, pouring herself another shot, and then did the same for her friend.
Yoruichi snorted a bit, amused. "Tia, that's nearly every man in existence, and the human ones don't have a corner on the market." She raised her glass in a toast. "To men."
Tia returned the salute, clinking her glass against the noblewoman's. "To men."
"Fuck 'em!" And with their simultaneous declaration, they downed the alcohol.
Small talk ensued, namely on how things were progressing with the chosen targets of their respective affections. Tia still couldn't wheedle out who Yoruichi kept smiling about whenever the topic was brought up, aside from it being "someone they both knew" (which was a number of men), and Yoruichi kept giving advice on how to make sure Tyn knew his place, ranging from harmless pranks to rather more...sordid things to do in private.
"Speaking of men we both know..." Tia stopped wiping glasses for a moment to listen to Yoruichi, the tone of the older woman's voice catching her attention. The cat absently stared at the liquid in her glass as she swirled it around. "Mind if I ask you something about one?"
Raising a brow curiously, the Arrancar returned to her cleaning duties. "Sure..." She snuck a look at the clock on the wall. Three-fifteen in the morning. "Mind if I clean and talk? Tyn's probably waiting up..." The idiot... She thought with no small amount of affection.
Yoruichi nodded. "No problem." She fell silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Quiet reigned for a few minutes, and then the question fell out of her mouth.
"Why are you all so tolerant of Tatter de Malion? You all seem almost...friendly with him."
Tia Halibel blinked and looked up from the bartop to the former Captain, who was still swirling her alcohol...but now staring holes into the blonde woman with burning eyes of gold.
Tia sighed a bit through her nose. "Well...it's kind of...strange..."
"Try me."
Putting the rag down, the Shark Queen braced herself on her palms against the bar. "Before I answer you that, answer me this; What do you feel when you see a dying Hollow? Arrancar, Adjuchas...any kind?"
Yoruichi Shihoin blinked in surprise. "Well...nothing, really...I never have thought about it, to tell you the truth..."
Tia nodded. "I thought so. Then you'll understand why we look at the Butcher a bit differently than most of your kind." Sitting down on the stool she kept behind the counter, Halibel poured herself and her friend another shot.
"This was back when Tyn was still the Sexta, you understand, and just after Nel had disappeared..."
=Z7=
The Espada slowly filed into the room. Silence seemed to reign over them, a silence that was fitting, for they were missing two of their number.
The Octava Espada, Nnoitra Gilga...
And the Tercera Espada, Neliel Tu Odelschvank.
In truth, "missing" was a rather strong term. After all, missing would entail the lack of knowledge of where a person or thing was. Nnoitra had been seen just this morning being dispatched on some form of "retrieval mission" for Aizen.
Neliel had not been seen for three days.
The occasional disappearance of an Espada was not an uncommon occurrence. Starrk often went off alone for days on end, ironically brooding about his solitude. Zommari would spend hours upon hours in his chambers, meditating. Linndal often spent impressively lengthy amounts of time in his bed with any willing and attractive female (or females, such as the case may be).
But there was always some sort of notice about it, some form of heads-up that they would not be present at such-and-so time. Neliel, on the other hand, took her duties as Tercera Espada very seriously, which translated into her almost never pulling these disappearing acts.
Needless to say, there were those amongst the Espada who were worried.
"This just isn't like her, I'm telling you," said Tyn Tethis. His too-red hair was ruffled slightly, as though he had been running a hand through it over and over again in agitation and a usually chipper face was pulled into a sober scowl, further accented by the fangs of his Hollow mask brushing his lower lip. His conversation partner nodded.
Linndal Cuchullan had his arms crossed, his loose ponytail allowing a few stray strands to flutter in front of his angry face. "Aye, lad, and don't I know it. It ain't like Nelly to make like the smoke." His already stormy brow turned even darker, his lavender eyes flashing gold deep within. "And did ya see that greasy smile on Gilga's face? He probably had somethin' ta do with it, and it wouldn't surprise me ta find that our glorious leader," and at these words, he nearly spat, "had given the order his own damn self, mark my words."
Grimmjow, who had been listening closely, decided to jump in. "If Nnoitra had something to do with it," he growled, "we just might have to find a new Eighth."
Halibel, walking slightly in front of the three, turned her head to them. Meeting their eyes, she gave each a look of disapproval. "I'm sure Nel's fine, Tyn. Maybe she just wanted a break. As for you two," and she narrowed her eyes at Linndal and Grimmjow, "it's not appropriate to talk about either Lord Aizen or a fellow Espada in that fashion."
Grimmjow protested, "But Gilga talks shit all–"
"And how many friends does he have?" The Cuarto Espada interrupted, her sea-green eyes heavy on Grimmjow.
He snorted and looked away.
They reached the table, and Linndal could not resist getting a parting dig in. "I'll find out what happened, Halibel, and I'll get it straight from the horse's mouth, see if I don't. Just keep them pretty peepers on ol' Linn."
Halibel just rolled her "pretty peepers", and the group parted ways.
Tyn sat down, and, as was his habit, drew a knee to his chin and rocked the chair back on two legs. Linndal sat next to him after sheathing his spear behind his shoulder. "Well, I guess we know who don't want to see the lovely pink elephant in the room, eh, Te–"
"Cuchullan. Drop it." Linndal looked at the Sexta Espada in amusement, and said nothing.
Now, to wait for Aizen to enter the room and begin the meeting.
In the Western Wasteland
Nnoitra Gilga, Octava Espada, was pissed.
Here he was, a young, strong, full-blooded Arrancar male...and Aizen still let a woman have position over him.
Halibel was still Fourth, and he was still Eighth.
He snorted. Well, he had gotten rid of Nel easily enough, so Halibel would be little issue. True, he'd had a...small amount of help, in the form of that pink-haired fairy, Granz, but in the end...
'All me...'
A small, respectful cough sounded behind him. Nnoitra ignored it in favor of trudging through the sands of the Western Sand Sea, occupied by his thoughts and his gaze down.
In the end, he guessed, the best things take time to get. No such thing as a free lunch, and all that. The best things came to those who waited, and planned, and schemed, biding their time until the moment of opportunity came along and...
Another cough snorted through a pair of nostrils to his rear.
Nnoitra grit his jaw and kept walking.
Well, no time like the present to start the aforementioned scheming. Halibel was weaker than Neliel was, since: a) Neliel was the Third Espada whilst Tia was one level below her, and b) while they both had their Fraccion as their weakness, Nel only had two. Tia, on the other hand, had three, all female.
Nnoitra smiled an oily smile. All female. Soooo many possibilities...
That little one, Appaci, was particularly tasty-looking...
Another cough erupted behind him, and this time, he whipped around, his zanpakuto at the ready.
"What the hell do you WANT?!"
The slight figure behind him gave a humble bow of his head.
"I beg your pardon, Lord Nnoitra, but..."
Nnoitra tightened his grip on Santa Teresa. "But...what?" he grated out, his single eye glittering murderously.
Tesla gave a nervous twitch. "Um...I know that you are...er...rather...preoccupied right now...but..." And at this he pointed a finger forward over the next dune.
Nnoitra rolled his good eye in annoyance and turned, narrowing it in focus. What he saw made him give a grim grin as Aizen's words from earlier in the day came to his mind.
Flashback
"Nnoitra, I have received a report that interests me..."
Nnoitra blinked in confusion. Surely, Aizen didn't mean the whole deal about Neliel...he was sure that Aizen had dropped him several hints about how pleased he would be if—
"Kaname tells me that a Soul Reaper has been spotted in the sands of Hueco Mundo."
Nnoitra, from his lazily obeisant position, raised his head in interest. "Really, sir? Has the attack begun?" His smile gleamed in the dim light of the throne room. If the real thing had finally started...
Aizen merely smirked. "No, no...nothing of the sort...No, this Soul Reaper merely...captures my attention."
Nnoitra, smile gone, gave an insolent shrug. "Yeah, well. What's that got to do with me?"
"I was hoping I could ask you to...retrieve him for me."
Nnoitra shifted uncomfortably. Whenever Aizen "asked" for someone to do something, it typically meant that it had better get accomplished, and quickly...or else.
He had seen what had happened to Loly and Menoly's predecessors.
"...yeah, I'll get it done..."
Aizen gave him a kindly smile. Nnoitra shuddered. "Most excellent. He was last seen going to the West."
Present
"All right...good thing I found him."
Unseen behind him, Tesla rolled his own eyes.
Nnoitra took a keener look at the target. Tall. Lean. Scruffy-looking. Had a ragged brown cloak wrapped around him.
Looked like a bag of shit, really.
"All right, this should be easy." With a quick jerk of his head, Nnoitra motioned Tesla to follow, and, in a static-burst of sonido, they were gone.
Las Noches
"Now, then, my dear Espada...since we have enjoyed our tea..."
Several of the Arrancar seated at the table gave inward huffs of irritation. It had been almost an hour of waiting for Aizen, and then another twenty for his little tea party...thing.
Tia Halibel stared stoically at her untouched cup of tea, an air of slight exasperation hovering over her head.
She wondered if giving her, the only Espada with a full face-mask, a drink was Lord Aizen's idea of a joke.
She tuned back in to the goings-on.
"...our strategy will have to be slightly modified to-"
A loud slurping sound erupted, halting Aizen in the middle of his speech.
Tia and the other Espada turned their gazes toward the end of the long white table.
Linndal Cuchullan had his cup to his lips, and was beginning to set it down on its small saucer. He then seemed to notice everybody's eyes upon him.
"Ah," he exclaimed, an mockingly apologetic smile on his face. "I didn't mean ta interrupt ya, m'Lord. My apologies."
Aizen's condescending little grin flickered.
Linndal noticed this, and his smile ratcheted up a notch.
"But...seein' as how I done got everybody's attention, I may as well bring up a matter that I'm sure we all got on our minds, eh?"
Aizen folded his hands together over his lap, looking for all the world like a benevolent young philosopher.
"If you have a concern, dear Linndal, then by all means," and at this, he gestured expansively at the table and its occupants.
"Please, share with us."
Linndal's lavender eyes shifted to a darker hue momentarily as he set his saucer and cup down. He stood, and leveled a laser-sharp gaze at the Shinigami seated in the throne at the head of the table.
"Where the hell is Neliel?"
A general straightening of postures around the table betrayed sudden interest, and Aizen became aware of the burning blue eyes of Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez.
He raised his steepled fingers to his lips, nodding slowly. "I see," he said, allowing a tone of gravity to color his voice. "I...was hoping to bring this to light at the end of our meeting..."
Linndal gave a slight snort of disbelief as he sat down.
Aizen ignored this and continued. "As you all know, our Tercera Espada has always been a bit...different from us. Neliel is, first and foremost, a seeker of peace. She took her duties as an Espada with due and proper gravitas, and was aware of the responsibilities that came with such power. However," and here, an air of regret seemed to weigh on his shoulders, "not four evenings ago, our dear Tercera Espada came to me, and resigned from her position."
"Why the fuck would she do something like that?" Grimmjow snapped.
Aizen merely gave a sad shake of his head. "She would not say, and I respected her wishes to keep her own counsel."
Grimmjow sank back in his chair. Those next to him, if they had cared to look, would have seen bitter disappointment and self-recrimination in his face.
Linndal narrowed his eyes. "Are ya sure and certain, m'Lord, that that's how it happened? Exactly?"
A moment of silence pressed down like lead upon the room.
"Whatever could you mean, my dear Septima?"
Linndal stood up. "I mean, Aizen, that maybe she found out somethin' she didn't like about ya. Maybe she did somethin' ya didn't like. And I, for one, am noticin' a rather critical piece o' the puzzle missin' as we speak." He looked around theatrically. "Where the bloody blue blazes is Nnoitra?!"
At this, everyone suddenly became aware of pulsing Reiatsu outside of the meeting room.
It felt a lot like Nnoitra Gilga's.
Aizen raised a hand in a grand gesture of surprise. "Why, I do believe he's coming in as we speak."
He gave a broad smile...
...and massive impact caused the doors to open suddenly, slamming them into their supporting walls as a large shape flew across the threshold and through the air.
It arched perfectly, almost touching the vaulted ceiling of the war room, and seem to hang there for an eternity...
All eyes were riveted to the bulk...
...and all eyes saw it as it began to obey the laws of gravity and fall, almost as if it were in slow motion, straight toward the center of the table.
Coyote Starrk, speaking for the first time since entering the chamber, snapped them out of their daze.
"MOVE!"
Immediately, the instinct to obey someone stronger than they kicked in, and every Espada made an undignified scramble away from the long slab that served as their meeting place.
The hulk fell with a might crash, and then, like a gunshot, a crack rang out into the air as the weight of the being proved too much for the stone, collapsing it to the floor.
Teacups and plates lay shattered all around the floor. Unsipped tea trickled here and there, onto the tile, onto ruined chairs.
A shocked voice (Tyn Tethis, for those curious to know) identified the strange thing that had, literally, gatecrashed their meeting.
"T...Tesla...?"
And Tesla it was, in his Resurreccion form, and certainly looking the worse for the wear. Bruised, cut, burned...his clothes were a charred mess, and one of his tusks appeared to be loose in his mouth.
After taking a moment to soak all this in, every eye turned to what remained of the entrance.
Standing there, ever-so-calmly, was a tall figure, wrapped in a brown cloak. A short-cropped shock of indigo hair topped his head, and crimson eyes surveyed them all with the look of disinterest that a cat gives to a mouse when it isn't in the mood to hunt.
A Shinigami.
And knotted in his left fist was the long, oily hair of Nnoitra Gilga, who was bound and gagged (but otherwise unharmed) by the glowing ropes that accompanied a Bakudo spell.
The man gave a mild blink, and stepped forward.
Almost as one, the Espada put their hands on the hilts of their weapons.
The figure in the doorway paused, straightening slightly as he seemed to reassess the situation. He looked around the room, absently giving a small jerk to his captive's head as Nnoitra began to struggle, kicking and screaming through his glowing gag. Then, the stranger turned his crimson gaze to his fellow sitting on the massive white throne at the head of the table's remnants.
"You left your trash blowing around."
Aizen seemed to smile at this. He steepled his fingers together and placed them in front of his face, peering at the ragged figure holding one of his elite captive.
The man cocked his head to the side.
"That's a sign of poor management, you know. Leaving garbage outside like that." He shrugged. "Looks bad. Like you just don't care."
Silence reigned in the meeting room, Espada staring between their liege-lord and the intruder. Silence interrupted by Nnoitra's renewed struggling.
The figure gave a sigh. "Excuse me, please." Reaching down, he removed the binding around the Eighth Espada's mouth. "What do you w–"
"YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING SUNUVVABITCH, I'M GOING TO FUCKIMMMPH!"
The man leaned back up from his reapplication of the gag. Calmly wiping spit from his face, he looked back up at Aizen.
"I hope he doesn't kiss your boots with that mouth."
Aizen gave a small chuckle at this. "I try to avoid such...messy displays of devotion."
Tyn Tethis leaned in close to Tia Halibel. "What," he whispered, "the hell is–"
"Who the fuck are you?!"
All eyes swung to the elderly, but no less impressive, figure of Baraggan Luisenbairn. His nostrils flared over his mustache as breath chugged out of his lungs, barrel chest rising and falling like a bellows. His pointed a meaty finger at the man in the doorway, and snapped a glare at Sosuke Aizen.
"What the hell is another Soul Reaper doing here, Aizen? Our deal was only for that creepy faggot you keep around and the blind nig–"
"Shinigami."
The embodiment of Arrogance and Old Age swung his head around on a short neck. "What?"
The stranger lifted a finger. "I'm a Shinigami. Not a Soul Reaper."
The Fifth Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer, spoke up. "I was not aware of a difference."
Aizen leaned his chin on his hand. "A Soul Reaper," he explained calmly, "is one who takes the oath of the Gotei Thirteen Court Guard Squads to uphold the laws of the Soul Society, and makes a commission on the sublimation of Hollows."
"Shinigami is what we are. Soul Reaping is a job. And I happen to be self-employed at this time."
Aizen nodded at the intruder's words, that same sardonic grin curving his lips.
"That is not the point!" bellowed Baraggan. "Another one of you renders our deal broken! You have–"
"It is rather apparent to me," interrupted the Shinigami, "that the grumpy old man here is operating under the impression that I am here by invitation. I assure you, I am not."
"Don't you dare disrespect me, you irritating little bastard," grated the Second Espada. "I will not stand for it!"
The cloaked Shinigami narrowed his eyes, and then pointed at the few chairs still intact. "If your age is preventing you from standing comfortably," he said quietly, "there are plenty of places to sit. However, respect is not something I give to those who don't deserve it."
Baraggan's eyes bulged in anger as a small ripple of chuckles passed through the other Espada, which promptly ceased as he clenched his fist, allowing a small amount of his Respira to coat his right arm.
"Then it is obvious that you need to be taught some respect, child," he growled.
Nnoitra's head hit the stone floor with a dull 'clunk' , accompanied by a muffled grunt of pain as his hair was released. The Shinigami in the cloak calmly placed his right hand on the pommel of his zanpakuto, and subtly shifted his body weight to a more ready position.
A sudden wave of spiritual pressure pulsed through the room, sending the lesser Espada staggering and effectively halting the confrontation in its tracks.
Aizen stood up.
"Now, now...I didn't have us all gather together today so we could bicker. Please, my dear Espada, relax. We are all friends here."
Baraggan cut his eyes at Aizen. "A king has no friends, and does not suffer abuse from his lessers. This...impudent pup has insulted me. I demand satisfaction."
The current inhabitant of the throne of Hueco Mundo raised an eyebrow. "I must ask you to calm yourself, Baraggan; I would hate to lose a companion at this stage in the game."
Luisenbairn crossed his arms. "I wouldn't kill him," he said, disdain dripping from every word. "Just teach him to respect his elders and betters."
Aizen merely stared.
And then, the inhabitants of the room flinched as he began to laugh. It rang through the room, like a cold, dead thing, unexpected and not entirely welcome.
The man regained control of himself. "Baraggan," he said, a few chuckles still bubbling in his voice. "I was talking about you."
Ignoring the indignant sputtering of the Arrancar, Aizen turned to the assembled group. "Lady and Gentlemen of the Espada. I would like to have the extreme pleasure to introduce," and he held a hand out to the cloaked man, "Tatter de Malion."
A chorus of silence echoed back at him.
"Beg pardon...who?" asked Linndal.
Aizen nodded to himself. "You may better know of him as the Butcher of Quincies."
Flashes of understanding lit the faces of each Arrancar in the room, and newfound looks of respect, mixed with suspicion (and in Baraggan's case, downright hatred) found their way into their individual expressions.
Tatter de Malion inclined his head at the introduction. "And I take it you are Sosuke Aizen."
Aizen gave another seemingly–benevolent smile. "I had hoped that would be obvious by now."
De Malion gestured at the prone figures of Tesla and Gilga. "The large one kept telling Greaseball here that 'Lord Aizen wants him alive!' over and over again. And the fact that you are obviously in charge here helps." He then shrugged. "I don't know why he was so hysterical; Greasy didn't put up much of a fight."
Aizen nodded as if to himself again. "I did not realize that Nnoitra would escalate to violence so quickly...I beg your pardon."
A shrug answered his apology. "No harm, no foul. But it would be advisable to send someone you trust a bit more the next time you wish to speak to a person. The wrong idea may be communicated, you understand." A slight tattoo of the fingers beat itself on the long zanpakuto at his side.
Aizen gave a slightly humored chuckle. "Indeed." He gestured to the Espada, once again watching the exchange silently. "I am afraid that this concludes our meeting, my dear Espada. You are dismissed. Ulquiorra, if you would be so kind as to escort Nnoitra to the infirmary. Linndal, Grimmjow, Tyn, the same for Tesla, if you will."
As the Espada exited, the Fifth with Nnoitra (still struggling and shrieking behind his gag) and the Seventh, Ninth, and Sixth with Tesla (who still had not come around or exited Resurreccion), Aizen turned to Tatter de Malion.
"If you would be so kind as to walk with me, Mr. de Malion; I have much I wish to discuss with you."
=Z7=
Yoruichi Shihoin shrugged. "So he worked with Aizen. I know that already; he as much as told Sui-Feng that." She held out her glass.
Tia nodded as she refilled it. "Then you know why Aizen wanted him. There were a few colonies of Quincies hiding within the desert that were proving to be trouble by destroying Adjuchas and Vasto Lorde before they could be recruited. Who better than the Butcher of Quincies to exterminate them?"
The noble shook her head. "And all for a pair of boots, too."
Tia considered this. "Well...they are really nice boots..."
Yoruichi snorted a laugh, as did Halibel. "So, still. That doesn't answer my question. Why is the Pack so friendly with him? And what does this have to do with dying Hollows?"
"I was just getting to that." Tia leaned her elbows on the bartop and rested her chin on laced fingers. "Tatter de Malion quickly settled in. For the most part we—the Arrancars—left him be, and he did the same for us. We may have been forced to tolerate him, but we weren't going to interact with a Shinigami if we didn't have to. He actually did very little for the first week, staying mostly in the guest chambers near Aizen's own. Szayel-Aporro was calibrating several of his machines to be able to track and map Quincy attacks and power fluctuations and so on. Finally, everything was in order.
"We were summoned before Aizen, just me, Ulquiorra, and Tyn. Linndal would be there for other meetings, but it was just us three at first.
"Aizen had told us that we were going to be working with de Malion in tracking the Quincies down. We were chosen because we had struck him...the Butcher, that is... to be the most intelligent and combat-capable, more able to take orders, more effective against the Quincies than the others. Also taken into consideration was the fact that we were strong, but not strong enough that the Quincies could use it against us.
"We began running scouting missions, always going to where the last surge in reishi was, followed by a sudden drop in those same levels; those were the typical calling cards of a Quincy attack. It was rather hit-and-miss, though...mostly we'd arrive there only to find nothing, or we'd get to it and only find traces of them, from a camp or an attack that left no survivors. It was...frustrating. Tyn and I were getting annoyed with the lack of results, and even Ulquiorra was starting to question if this was useful or not. Linndal, when he joined us later, didn't seem to mind; of course, he always has loved Hueco Mundo.
"And then it happened..." Tia took another sip of her drink.
Yoruichi's interest was piqued. "What do you mean? What happened?"
Tia Halibel regarded the wood grain on the bartop, a slender finger drawing a circle on an old stain. "Aizen had created many Arrancar. Vasto Lorde, like me, Ulquiorra, Baraggan...we were rare treasures...but many more were Adjucha, or even Gillian. I thought at first, when I saw him doing this, that he was being kind, giving them reason and thought, something besides the hunger to live for...of course, looking back, I know he was just enjoying the rush from playing 'God'. Anyway, he'd turn them, and then he'd send them out to do as they pleased. Some stayed, those blinded by his powers of persuasion. They'd become the Números, the servants and staff of Las Noches, the basic army. He always referred to them as 'pawns'. I often wondered why." She snorted. "Now I know."
"And the others?" Yoruichi pressed.
"The others," Tia said, "would leave Las Noches. They were too weak to serve him, and he had no interest, at the time, at least, in them staying and taking up valuable room. Later on, if the need arose, he would send one of us Espada out, usually Linn or Nel since they were friendliest, to find them and persuade them to return. Nnoitra did it a few times, but Nel complained about his...methods...
"The few times I did go out and recruit, I'd find that they had usually gone and set up little families, two mates and perhaps the rare child Arrancar or two. Oftentimes, groups of them would gather together and make a Pack, and sometimes they would join other compatible Packs and form what you might call a community, perhaps even with a small village; houses made from stone and the Crystal Trees, agreements for help and nonaggression..."
"Really?" Yoruichi asked, interest dripping in her voice. "They acted that...uh..."
"Normally?" Tia's own had an amused ring to it, and she laughed a bit. "Looking at the way humans live now, and even Shinigami, with their brutal caste system of 'Me First, You Never', I'd say Arrancar have it better than you. At least we help the weak members of the Pack; they may be on the bottom, but we don't shun them. Besides," and she stretched a bit. "It only made sense. There was an enemy out there Eradicating us for simply being Hollows, another bent on our 'salvation' through Sublimation, and then there were the other hazards, such as those like Nnoitra who killed for the hell of it, and then the other creatures besides Hollows that live in Hueco Mundo...banding together was the only way to survive.
"But," and she sighed, "there were always those who didn't seek the protection a Pack brings..." Her voice trailed off.
The Shihouin leaned forward, curiosity killing her in the inside.
"You just told me," remarked Tia Halibel, "that the above average Soul Reaper," and she motioned toward her friend, "doesn't really think about a badly hurt or dying Hollow. At most, you regard it as an opportunity to go ahead and take it out with little effort and minimal risk. True?" At the hesitant nod, she continued. "If the smarter, stronger Shinigami typically don't think about it, then what are the odds one of the typical, run-of-the-mill idiots you guys are mainly constituted of will?"
"It...doesn't seem likely..."
A nod. Silence fell then, as the Shark Queen gathered her thoughts and Yoruichi waited patiently. Finally, the words began to flow.
"It was the first real sign we could find, the first attack that had truly just happened. We were too late, of course, but it was a start...
=Z7=
"You sure this is the right way? You're not exactly the best tracker in the group..." asked an irritable Tyn Tethis as he absently swatted a small masked mosquito Hollow away from his face. He had a right to be grumpy; this was the fourth time they had gone out looking for fresh Quincy tracks, but it looked to be turning out a days-long wild-goose chase thanks to Ulquiorra's questionable hunting skills.
Ulquiorra Schiffer turned around briefly to look at his comrade. "I am quite certain." He turned back around and resumed his customarily-silent trudge up the high dune of sand, shortly behind the strange Shinigami they'd been ordered to follow. "Beyond that, Lord Aizen placed me in charge of you and the others."
"Doesn't mean you know where you're going; you don't have the nose for it, Schiffer."
"But I do have the eyes for it," countered the pale arrancar. "Trust me as Lord Aizen has and we will get there."
"Yeah...trusting you and Aizen..." growled Tyn in distaste. "I trust my own nose more."
A friendly slap on the shoulder interrupted his musings as the widely-smiling and handsome face of Linndal Cuchullan appeared beside him. "Ah, don't be like that, Tethis! The walk is good for us!" The accented voice of the shorter Arrancar was soothing and calm. "Besides, it can't be much farther; we've been out here for–"
"Nine days, six hours, and twenty-two minutes." The voice of Ulquiorra floated back down at them from several feet ahead and up, and Tyn had to set his jaw firmly, a faint twitch visible around his left eye. Ever since Aizen had taught them the meaning of time and how to measure it, it had become Ulquiorra's favorite way of annoying them (and Tyn believed that it was intentional; no way in Hell that someone, anyone, didn't have a way to have fun, and Schiffer was no exception).
"Twenty-three minutes."
The prick.
Linn chuckled. "Don't let it get ta ya, boyo. He's just a kid with a new toy, that's all."
"Have I mentioned that I despise children?"
"Just ignore him, Tyn; it's not worth the headache." At the whiskey-rough voice behind them, Tyn and Linn turned around to face the last Espada in their sortie, CuartoEspada Tia Halibel. "And how many times do I need to remind you to watch what you say about Lord Aizen?"
The Sexta just grunted and said nothing further.
And Linn, seeing how annoyed the Raptor Prince was getting, simply couldn't help himself. "Twenty-five minutes!"
The redhead walking beside him didn't even turn to face him as he shot his arm out and slammed a tight fist into Linn's bicep.
"Owwwwww..." Linndal rubbed the abused arm, not really in pain thanks to his hierro, but perfectly willing to milk it for all it was worth. "Ah, ya see how my 'friend' treats me, Lady Tia? So cruel..."
"Lady" Tia shook her head and gave a good-natured roll of her eyes at the older Arrancar's antics. "Don't drag me into this one, Cuchullan; you brought it on yourself."
The group resumed their walk uphill, Tyn and Tia walking side-by-side as Linndal trotted in front of them going backwards.
"But m'Lady, that ain't a reason for him ta be so aggressive..." He sighed, a dramatic hand held against his masked brow. "Oh, dear...I feel so...so faint..." His lavender eyes, lids fluttering in mock semi-consciousness, looked at both of his friends in turn. "Why...is this...yes...the true Afterlife!" He motioned to Tyn. "I see...the Devil himself..." and then to Tia. "And an Angel of sweet and tender mercies!"
Running backwards a few steps, he flung himself to his knees and clasped his hands together. "Oh, sweet Seraph, save me from yon Satanic Vassal! Take your servant in hand and escort him to the Garden of Heavenly Delights!"
Said "Seraph" and "Satanic Vassal" merely brushed past him, ignoring his pleas for succor.
Linndal hung his head as he got to his feet. "Ach, and the fates pass me by once again..." Hustling to catch up to them, he went to the opposite side of Tia Halibel.
"So..."
Tyn, who had been enjoying the calm silence he was sharing with the Shark Queen, gave his friend the hairy eyeball. "What, Linndal?"
An uncharacteristically serious look cast itself on the Septima's face. "Any word yet on Nelly?"
Tia sighed and shook her head, braids swaying. "Nothing. I sent my girls out a week before we left, but no sign of her anywhere."
Tyn nodded in agreement. "I've done everything I could, trying to find out anything from anyone...nothing though."
Linndal grunted. "Well, I found somethin'."
Green and amber eyes locked onto his face. Before they could question him, he held up a palm. "Before ya go gettin' all up and excited, I have ta be clear; first, it may be nothin'. Second, if it is somethin', it ain't good.
"Before we left, I was sniffin' around the East Wall. I been doin' that, hopin' ta find a clue, anythin' really. Anyways, I was searchin', and I smell blood. I go ta check it out, and I find what looked like a fight-ground. I smell some more, and guess what scent I find?"
Tyn's eyes got very round. "Nel!"
A grim look came on the Septima's face then, even as he nodded. "Guess who else?"
Tia clenched a fist. "Nnoitra. He was there too, wasn't he?"
A gloved hand held up a finger. "One more, my friends."
At their lost looks, Linndal Cuchullan leaned in close. "Szayel-Apporo Granz."
Tia stopped and looked hard at him. "The Número who's always skulking around the science labs?"
A nod. "The same. Pesche, Dondechakka, and Tesla were there as well...but the boys...they smelled like their own blood...a lot of it..."
Tyn growled. "Nnoitra...I knew it... We should have killed that bastard a long time ago."
"Neliel told us she could handle it herself, remember?" Halibel pointed out. "Even with help from Granz, there's no way she'd lose. I won't discount that they may have gotten in a lucky shot and wounded her a little, but anything beyond that is inconceivable."
"Then where is she?" countered Tyn. "I don't like this..."
"Now, now..." soothed the Mad Hound. "Before we go gettin' our dander up...why don't we find out what happened. I ain't goin' near Szayel, he's tricky...but Tesla..."
Tia interrupted as soon as she saw the devilish look on Tyn's face. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking... Tesla hasn't done anything; this is hardly fair to him!"
"Anythin' that we're aware of, ya mean," said Linn.
"You can't be serious."
"No, lass, I'm Linndal. And we wouldn't hurt him too badly. A little roughin' up never killed nobody..." Linndal's voice was carefree as he said this, and Tia turned to him.
"Would you want your Fraccion treated like that?"
The Septima shrugged. "Why do ya think I don't got any? No weak points; if anyone's got beef with the Hound, they go ta the Hound ta deal with it."
Tia shook her head in frustration. This was a sore spot with her; she knew how upset she would be if anyone messed with Apacci, MilaRose, and Sung-Sun. Nnoitra may not have the same caliber of attachment to the unfortunate Tesla, but he was certainly possessive of what he considered his property, and Lindocruz certainly qualified as that.
"It's not right."
"How else are we gonna get any answers, lass?"
Tyn stayed silent as he watched this exchange. He himself had no Fraccion, but he could sympathize with Halibel's point-of-view. However, if Tesla knew anything, the only way they would find out was if they pressured him into talking...
"I don't approve." The blunt words from the Tercera sounded upset, and Tyn flinched a bit inside. Linndal had helped Tia get on her feet and find her place within the Espada when she had first arrived, and he quickly found someone who could be a friend to him, and vice-versa, something Tyn had always felt a bit of jealousy toward. Tia's disapproval of Linn meant a disapproval of Tyn, since he was privy to this plan, and he didn't know how he felt, torn between loyalty to Neliel and the need to possibly avenge her, and the unexplainable desire for Tia Halibel's approval.
Linndal waved her words away, smiling lackadaisically. "Don't get your bloomers in a twist. I promise ya we won't kill him."
Tia rounded on the man. "That doesn't mean you have the right to..." She trailed off as she realized that Linn's eyes were not making contact with her own, as she had expected...but were glued instead to her bosom. She took a deep breath to calm herself (which had the unintended side effect of causing the Septima's smile to widen a bit).
"Linndal?"
"Aye, m'Lady?" he asked her breasts.
"My face is up here."
"Aye, m'Lady."
Tia resisted the urge to slap the amorous Espada, huffing a breath instead. "I'm going on ahead." She pushed past the two other Arrancar and resumed the long trip up the massive sand dune, taking long strides to catch up with the party leaders.
Tyn shot a vile look at Linndal. "Now look what you've done–"
Linndal, he saw, was ignoring him, lavender eyes glued to Tia's shapely ass as she trudged up the hill.
Tyn slugged him in the arm again.
"Owwwwww..."
Perverted moron.
At the Crest of the Dune
Ulquiorra looked behind him to the three Espada lagging behind. Halibel seemed to have taken some initiative and was just now passing the half-way-up point of the enormous hill of sand, but the other two, Cuchullan and Tethis, seemed to be discussing something intensely.
Given their vocal opinions on Lord Aizen, Ulquiorra wasn't sure he liked the thought of them conspiring in secret. He would have demanded that Linndal take point in the group, what with his prodigious olfactory capabilities, but the Mad Hound had deferred when ordered to do so, claiming some form of nasal affliction.
Which was a lie, of course, a fabrication to spite Ulquiorra.
No matter.
The horn-helmed, black-haired head turned to look a few feet above him, to where the Shinigami leading this little excursion into the Southern Badlands was.
Tatter de Malion, scarred face stony, stood at the crest of the dune, allowing the desert breeze to flow through his short indigo hair as his crimson eyes took in the immediate surroundings.
Ulquiorra did the same.
Nothing but sand dunes for miles and miles.
Of course, calling it "sand" would be untrue, the Demon Bat thought, if one went by the purely scientific definition of sand. No, the sands of Hueco Mundo were not entirely silicate in make-up...they also contained grains of bones and mask from countless legions of Hollows that had died and been devoured until only the inedible parts remained, which were broken down by the wind and true sand and eventually carried off.
So many Hollows, so many millennia...
'And all we become is dust in the wind...' Truly, he did not understand why he was mocked for his beliefs among the other Espada...the evidence of those beliefs constituted their very environment.
But then again, the majority of them were short-sighted fools utterly absorbed in their own vices.
Turning to fully face the Shinigami, he regarded the man. "The others are catching up."
De Malion gave a short nod. "Good."
Ulquiorra had to admit, the Butcher of Quincies was of a different caliber than the majority of other creatures he had met. The other Arrancar, for the most part, paid attention to only their own pursuits. Gin Ichimaru inflicted his absurdist's point-of-view upon everyone else with irritating pranks. Kaname Tosen self-righteously dispensed punishment left and right for the smallest of infractions.
But Aizen, and now this de Malion fellow...they were different, somehow...
Sosuke Aizen sought to change the meaninglessness of the Realms by becoming God and re-creating things to have a purpose, to have meaning, and Ulquiorra Schiffer, Nihilism incarnate, could appreciate such a thing. He was indifferent to the success or failure of such an endeavor, but he could still appreciate it.
Tatter de Malion, however, seemed to share a worldview very similar to his own. He had a bored air about him, almost apathetic in its bearing, and he seemed to have a negative outlook, no matter the situation. Truly, in all of Schiffer's interactions with him, the man seemed to show real interest only in the extermination of the Quincy race.
"Quinto." At the sound of his title, the Demon Bat returned his thoughts to the only thing that came close to mattering with him; the here and now.
"I am listening." The Butcher stared off into the distance, seeming to consider something before turning to the Arrancar.
"Why do you trust Aizen?"
The question took him slightly aback, and his answer was out before he could stop himself. "I do not."
Tatter de Malion raised a brow. "Then why do you follow him so faithfully?" The man turned to the desert once more. "It seems to me that, if he betrayed the Soul Society, he will betray you, once your usefulness has reached its end."
The masked head nodded once. "It does seem likely." Empty Night, but with this distrust of Lord Aizen, the Shinigami was starting to sound like the two fools conspiring down below.
"Then why follow him?"
Ulquiorra closed his eyes, a surge of what might have been slight annoyance rising in his breast. In his soft voice, he gave the Shinigami the simplest answer he had.
"Because," he whispered, "there was nothing better to do."
"What's wrong? Why have we stopped?" The two men turned to peer at the woman interrupting their smalltalk; Tia Halibel, arms crossed, stood with her feet shoulder-width apart to give herself balance on the eternally-shifting sands.
Tatter de Malion gave her a small nod and an upwards twitch in the corner of his mouth. "Nothing, Lady Halibel." He turned back to the wasteland of dunes, but not before giving a knowing look in Ulquiorra's direction. "Nothing at all. Mr. Schiffer and I were merely discussing the weather."
Tia gave him a flat look as Tyn and Linndal came tramping up the dune, Linndal eyeing the Quinto Espada warily. "What weather?"
"Exactly my point." De Malion took a deep breath through his nostrils and let it out...slowly. "The climate is so nice and even throughout this Realm...my allergies haven't been acting up at all! Not a sniffle or snort." A slight sarcasm colored his tone as he made a show of stretching his arms in the eternal night. "I could open up a resort here; people would come just to–"
A distant but sudden flaring in the reishi-thick air interrupted him, silencing him and causing the other Arrancar to start. Linndal reacted almost violently, whipping Rabiosa from the scabbard on his back and telescoping the spear to full length in an instant, pointing the head toward the disturbance. "What," he growled, lavender eyes flashing gold for an instant, "the fuck was that?"
The others had reacted less extremely, but no less warily. Unhooking her finger from Tiburon's hilt, Tia Halibel allowed her eyes to travel side-to-side, trying to see an incoming attack. Tyn was doing much the same, a snarl curling his upper lip.
"Quincy," he murmured.
Ulquiorra's eyes had widened as he allowed his spiritual pressure to flow throughout the area. "I do not sense any. However...that most certainly was indicative of a Quincy manipulating reishi..." He allowed his eyes to look to Tatter de Malion.
The Butcher hadn't moved an inch this entire time, save for his head, which had turned toward the epicenter of the ripple. However, upon his face...a strange, almost hungry look had replaced his mask of indifference, crimson eyes nearly glowing in hatred as he swallowed hard.
"Finally..." The words from the Shinigami's throat seemed harsh and strange on the air of the eternal night.
And then he was gone, the snap of the end of his cloak the only sound as he entered his Shunpo and began to run, leaving the others behind.
Tia, Ulquiorra, Tyn, and Linndal stared after him, and then the Mad Hound sighed. "Well," he said, turning to the others. "We ain't gettin' paid, just standin' around here."
Tia sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "We aren't getting paid at all, Linndal."
The Septima Espada nodded sharply. "That's exactly what I said, m'Lady." He shouldered his zanpakuto and set off across the summit of the dune at a quick march. "Alright, then. Let's move out, troops!"
Wordlessly, Ulquiorra followed him, leaving the Cuarto and the Sexta behind. Tyn turned to his blonde companion. "Please explain to me how he," and he jerked a thumb at the rapidly-shrinking form of Linndal Cuchullan, "became the leader."
Tia Halibel merely shrugged as she started walking.
"As long as he thinks he's the leader, he's less-likely to be a lech around me and it'll help keep him from dragging you into his insane schemes for Tesla."
Tyn caught up to her. "And?"
"And I've also stopped trying to figure out how he thinks. It's probably better for my own sanity..."
Later
Wordlessly, the group stood some feet behind the man they knew as Tatter de Malion as he stared at the carnage in front of him.
Ulquiorra, seeing the blood dripping from the Shinigami's clenched fist, had stopped Linn from going and talking to him.
It was obviously not a good time to disturb the Butcher.
Tyn looked around himself at the wreckage. Distance was deceiving in Hueco Mundo; what had seemed only a short jaunt away had taken them another hour (or so he had been informed by Ulquiorra) to cover.
They were in a small clearing situated between two massive dunes, a hazardous environment to be in if not for the Crystal Trees growing out of them and holding the sand in place.
This spot was a treasure, to be sure; even if this part of the desert was visited more often, it was not in an easily-spotted place, and the situation between the dunes meant protection from the Teeth of Hueco Mundo, the massive sandstorms that could appear from nowhere.
What was more, there was a spring here as well. The water was bitter, but cool and drinkable, and that alone made this place a secret to be kept.
Apparently, someone had attempted to.
They were now dead.
From what Tyn Tethis could see, and it was not much, by any means, they had been a small family. A male and female, more than likely mates, and another male, possibly a friend or someone seeking shelter for the time being, had inhabited this home. The house itself, more of a shack or a hut, really, was made of a few slabs of stone leaned and stacked upon each other, with a hide curtain serving as an entrance. From what was seen, the stone walls and ceiling actually served as an opening, an antechamber into a cavern that had been dug into the side of the sand hill. How it was supported inside was anyone's guess, more than likely by the "roots" of the Crystal Trees, but it was safe to say that the little home was bigger than it seemed on the outside.
Not that it had protected the Arrancar from the Quincy, or Quincies, as the evidence bore.
There were three outlines scorched onto the sand, and many spots of slick, black glass, where the Light Arrows, signature weapons of the monks, had entered the sand and ignited.
One outline was halfway up the eastern dune. This one, one of the males, had tried to run.
He obviously hadn't made it.
Another outline on the desert floor had caught his interest immediately, what with the telltale pulse of Resurreccion clinging to the still-there remnants of the second male's spiritual pressure.
It hadn't been enough, though.
And the last was more interesting, still. This one, female by the scent, was half-in and half-out of the shelter, almost as if she had been trying to reach each something inside, her Zanpakuto, perhaps...
Tyn snorted derisively. Did he regret not being able to help them? A bit, but he found it hard to sympathize with those who didn't keep their weapon by their side at all–
"Again." A harsh, quiet voice interrupted his train of thought.
Tatter de Malion had slumped his shoulders, his now-loosened hand dripping blood as he stared into his palm, at the grooves his nails had torn into his flesh.
"Again. Too fucking late...again..."
Tia stared at him, a strange look in her eye. "Are you...alright?"
De Malion merely sighed. Then, he began to shuffle through the ruined settlement, using the toe of his new boots to lift the odd piece of debris and push it aside.
"Fan out...see if you can find some tracks." His voice was now tight with frustration and anger at having another lead slip through his fingers.
The group separated, Linndal sniffing the air while the other three walked around the small clearing.
Tatter de Malion had gone near the crude entryway, searching around the scorched outline of the female for any sign of the Quincies or the path they had gone...when he heard a whimper from inside the shelter.
Tia straightened as the Butcher tore the hide away from the opening and stepped into the darkness. She hurried over to the shack, Ulquiorra, Tyn and Linndal quickly following, and barged into the hut herself...
And they all stopped at a most unusual sight.
Tatter de Malion was kneeling on the ground and holding a small Arrancar child, a little girl, close to him.
She was pale, with hair an eye buzzing magenta, and her mask came down the bridge of her nose, ending in a hook similar to a hawk or falcon's beak. Her appearance was of a youngling no more than five or six. The girl was breathing heavily, whimpering, sweat beading her brow, and her little sackcloth dress was soaked in blood, and small wonder.
There was a large hole in her middle.
The group of older Arrancar became aware of de Malion speaking to the child, attempting to calm her.
"Shhhh...shhhh...it's alright, little one...I'm not going to hurt you...shhhh..." He gently brought her closer to his chest and stroked her blood-crusted hair. "Shhhh...don't be afraid of old Tatter..."
The girl's whimpering cries became quiet sobs of pain, and she coughed a bit, blood appearing on her lips. "I-I-it hu-hurts...it h-h-hurts..."
"I know, I know..." A blank, yet curiously sympathetic look had come upon the Shinigami's face then as he robotically took a clean end of one of the blankets on the floor to mop her forehead dry and wipe her lips of blood. De Malion knew of experience, and the Arrancar's instincts told them as well; this girl was beyond helping. The poor thing didn't have long. "Do you think you could tell me what happened?"
The child swallowed several times. "Th...thirsty..." Tia hurried forward, bearing a bucket from the crude table. Tearing a strip from the blanket, she soaked it and put it to the bloodied lips, letting the young one suck what moisture she could from it.
"Wh-whiterobes..." she stammered when she had her fill. "They...they c-came...from the...d-dark...Mama...M-mama told...me...t-t-to hide...P-papa was yelling...he...he ch-changed...I felt h-him...but...he...he went...away...
"I...c-couldn't...feel...Uncle...a-a-any...more...and...Mama...I heard...her...t-talking...but...then...she...screamed...f-for me...I...th-th-thought...she wanted...m-me...to come...out...so...I came...and they...they..."
"Shhhh..." The surprisingly gentle voice of the Shinigami was soothing, low. "I understand."
"I...I c-came back...and...h-hid..." She stared up at her confessor, confusion in her grey eyes. "W...why did...they...h-hurt me...wh-what did I...d-do to them?"
The Shinigami shook his head at her. "That's not important, little one." He stroked her head again as it gently began to droop against his breast. "You need to rest. Go to sleep...just sleep..."
"It...h-hurts...it...hurts..." She whimpered again as her eyes closed. A shuddering breath entered and then escaped her, and then another.
Tia and the others waited for a third breath.
It did not come.
Tatter de Malion just knelt there, looking at the shell of the small child in his arms, his face stony, impassive.
"Her name was Brönte." Linndal's husky accent gently broke the silence as every eye but the Butcher's turned towards him. He quietly walked forward to the still form holding the child and knelt down.
"I met her and her family some time ago. I had invited them back to the castle under Aizen's request." Tia decided not to mention the absence of Lord Aizen's title this time, instead opting to listen to Linn's tale. "They refused, sayin' they wished to live in peace."
"No such thing as peace in this sandy Hell," Tyn snorted as Tia gave a depressed sigh.
Turning back to de Malion, Linn held out his hands. "Tatter?" The silent specter in the cloak raised dull eyes from the face of the girl. "Let me take her. We Arrancars have our own traditions with our dead. Unless," he added hastily at the flicker within the crimson irises, "ya'd rather Sublimate her?" The apprehension in his tone was also apparent in the suddenly slightly-hostile atmosphere the room held at the word "Sublimate" as the Espada looked hard at the man in the cloak.
Tatter de Malion held the lavender gaze of the Septima Espada for a long moment, and then closed them as he nodded heavily. "She was an Arrancar. She will rest as an Arrancar."
Even as everyone but Ulquiorra silently sighed in relief, Tia couldn't help but notice how the man looked as if he was feeling the years of a too-long life upon his shoulders, how his eyes seemed to have a tired air as he handed the small corpse into the hands of the half-mad Arrancar.
Linndal exited the shack, followed by Ulquiorra. Tyn and Tia stayed behind, the minutes passing as they watched the man called the Butcher stare down at the blood from the cuts in his palm mingling with little Brönte's blood.
"I assure you both of one thing." The hoarse voice seemed to thud upon the air like a coffin lid shutting upon its inhabitant. He raised his head and glared at them in turn, even as the other two came back into the building. A single tear ran down his ruined, once-handsome face, following the deep scar as he grit his teeth in rage and grief.
"I promise you...that men...will bleed for this..." The voice was an animal growl as he stood and swept past them, the startled Espada following him outside.
"They got the scent of fresh blood on 'em now," Linn said softly. "Makes 'em easier to track..." He raised an arm pointing towards the east; the ever-shifting winds of Hueco Mundo ensured there were no visible footprints, but the smell of blood was a bit harder to shake off. "This way."
Tatter set his jaw. "Then that's the way we go."
"And when we find them?" Tia asked softly, eyes glittering in malice. "What do we do then?"
The Shinigami did not bother turning to her. "What do you think?"
"Kill them all." The voice of the Demon Bat of Las Noches was dull, monotonous...and as final as the last clod of earth upon a grave, so final that even Tyn Tethis had no problem in agreeing.
Without another word, the party headed east and disappeared into the endless night.
The shack stood there, now empty and waiting for new occupants.
It would wait for many years, until Linndal Cuchullan remembered it upon his return from Hell.
=Z7=
Tia put the last of the glasses away as she finished her story, and looked at her friend. Yoruichi had an introspective look upon her face as she stared at the bartop and considered the new information she had gathered.
"So...you treat him like one of you...because..."
"Because," Tia Halibel finished, "he treats us like there is no difference between our races." She sat down again. "He always acted fairly toward us before then, and after seeing him comfort one of us, shed a tear for one of our kind..." She shook her head, absently brushing back one of her befeathered braids. "Well...we couldn't really feel hostile towards him...at least those of us present now."
Yoruichi raised a perfectly-manicured brow. "What do you mean?"
Tia sighed as she returned to her feet and got her belongings together. "Well, Tyn, Linndal, and I told the others about it...the only ones it really seemed to affect were Starrk, Lilynette, and...well...perhaps not Grimmjow as much, but I never really knew how he felt about the man in the first place. The others...Nel wasn't around, and everyone else just seemed indifferent or unchanged in their attitudes. Nnoitra still hated him, Baraggan wanted him dead..."
"Status Quo was maintained, in other words."
Tia nodded at her friend's words. "Exactly."
Yoruichi got up and slung her arm around Tia's nearest shoulder as the taller woman turned off the main lights and came around the bar. "Well, I'm glad that you all feel that way about him. He never did make friends easily...by the way, did you ever catch up to those Quincies?"
Opening the door and finding the rain had stopped, Tia kept her umbrella closed and gave a sharkish smile to the cat. "Oh, yes...I forgot that part, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did!" Yoruichi's smile was almost as savage in return.
They stepped out into the night (Tia turning momentarily to bolt the door locked) and began down the sidewalk in the direction of the Urahara Shop and Tia's apartment complex beyond.
"Well, it took us another three hours..."
And the long, yet still not eternal, night slowly began to give way to dawn as the Tercera Espada started yet another story to the intently-listening former Captain of the Onmitsukido...
Finis
A/N Well, here ya go! Pago again owns the Universe, original concepts, and Tyn Tethis. Linndal is allll mine! Props to Pago for helping me out in adding and fleshing out certain parts, as well as making Tyn more In-Character! Couldn't have done that without him!
Also, some may be wondering about Old and Boney's use of the "F" word and near-use of the "N" word. Well, let it be understood that I don't use that term myself in any circumstances, but it struck me that such a blowhard elitist might think it fitting to consider some skin colors to be inferior to his own, as well as being cruel to someone for their perceived sexual preferences (no evidence of Gin being homosexual, but it felt fitting that Bones would just be an ass). My apologies if this offended anyone; that is NOT what I was aiming for (needless to say, I don't like Baraggan very much).