They were terrible morning after people but she had a feeling they would probably make up for it later somehow.

Slamming her car door shut behind her, she barely paid much attention to whether or not the vehicle locked before she started towards the house with a brief skip in her step. She needed to get in a long shower and change into something more suitable before she went out again- she also probably needed to wash these borrowed clothes and put up her outfit from the party. All that could be done later though. If she wanted to relax now, there was nothing stopping.

Helping herself up the front staircase, she paused briefly to fix a strap on her heel but stopped before her fingers even touched the shoe; her eyes more drawn to the splashes of red against the stairs beneath her. They certainly weren't there when she left and when she just lightly brushed her fingertips against it, it proved to still be slightly wet- so it was still fresh. But where did it come from? And what exactly was it? She knew what it looked like but hopefully it wasn't blood- God help her and say it's not blood. She stepped around it for a moment and rested her hand on the nearby railing; pulling away at an unfamiliar texture only to watch as the same kind of red liquid seemed to stretch itself between her railing and her hand. Okay, was someone playing a trick on her? Because it wasn't funny. And if they thought it was… well then she was going to break them off at the knees.

Continuing her way up the staircase, she shoved aside the front door and waited momentarily; listening to the festering silence inside… normally she wasn't all too worried about it but after all that shit outside, she tried to seem a bit more 'concerned' for it. Using her fingertips to push the door closed behind her, she slowly made her advance forward down the opening hallway. "Hey Szayel, you in here?" she lightly called, although not really sure as to why she did it- it wasn't like he was going to provide her with all too many answers or even try to reassure her about what the fuck was outside; if anything, he'd just tell her to ignore it and that he'd clean it up later. Like he always did. She wasn't even sure if he was home or not- he could've still been out on some kind of fuck date or something for all she knew.

"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen."

The returned response felt unusually comforting as she made her way further down the short hallway until she entered the seemingly spotless kitchen; it certainly didn't look that way when she left it the night before… and while he seemed to have some offset of O.C.D., he really only cleaned like this after some kind of bloody event. And that worried her sometimes because he never actually told her what he did when she wasn't around. Why was she getting sidetracked like that so easily? Fuck it, she didn't really care much for how the kitchen looked, it was the front porch that worried her. "What's with that bloody mess in front of the house? The neighbors are going to think that we murdered someone- unless you did, in which case we can't let them know about it." she questioned as she stepped through the opening of the kitchen; pausing only slightly when she noticed him sitting at the table on the other end of the room. His face slightly hidden behind his hands as his arms were partly braced against the table.

"What mess?" he questioned as he slowly pulled his hands away from his face and looked up to her; dropping his hands to preoccupy them with the now cold coffee cup in front of him. "Oh yeah, that one, yeah just uh… it's fine, I'll probably paint over it later."

"Well, I don't care about what you're going to do to fix it, I want to know where it came from." she started; stopping as she watched him seem to push the coffee cup around in front of him in a mindless state of work. That was… odd seeing as he rarely wasted his time on small matters such as that; he was always that one guy who insisted on perfect time management and didn't want to spend a minute of time on something useless and/or wasteful. And yet, here he was doing that exact thing. She was far from the caring side and he was the last person she really ever gave a shit about but… she took note that there seemed to be something else going on. His skin was usually pale anyways but it was noticeably paler now, which only made her more questioning about ongoing situation. "And why do you look like shit anyways?"

"Like you really have much to say." he countered as he removed his glasses and rubbed at the empty space between his eyes. "You're still wearing last night's makeup, you're just now coming home after a big 'party' at your work place and should I even begin to mention that the clothes you're wearing don't even belong to you?"

"Yeah but I didn't leave that place all covered in blood or whatever that is out on the front porch." she snapped back easily. "Just tell me what the hell it came from and what the hell happened-" she stopped herself in midst of questioning. "… What did you do?"

A slight aggravated sigh escaped as he slipped his glasses back on and pushed himself from the table; he walked back over towards the sink and dropped the coffee mug in with little regards to if it broke or not. He barely even looked at her when he spoke. "I didn't do anything- well, let me rephrase that, I didn't mess up the plan."

She frowned at his answer and barely stepped aside when he moved to walk out of the kitchen; she was quick to grab his arm when he tried to step around her. "Just what the fuck are you talking about?" she continued; taking note of the slightly swollen cut just underneath his right eye.

He pulled himself free from her grip and continued on around her. "Exactly what you think I did."

She hated it when he played those damn mind games with her.

She waited for the slight echo of his footsteps to disappear upstairs and listened for the click of his bedroom door being closed before she pulled her cellphone free from her pocket: fingertips dialing in a quick number before she brought it up to one ear. The other line buzzed a few times before another click hinted that someone had finally picked up. "Tia, what the hell happened last night?"

There was a brief silence on the other side before a voice answered. "Uh… who is this?"

Her nose wrinkled briefly at the thick and heavy voice on the other line. "And when did your testosterone level jump up about five hundred times?"

"Because this is Starrk…"

Oh, of course… that would explain it, although she should've been able to guess that; it was rare for the other woman to leave her phone around for someone else to answer. "Sorry about that Starrk, I was calling for Harribel, is she there?"

"Yeah, give me a minute." his rough voice spoke as a slight squeak seemed to voice off in the background before it was followed by his faint calling. "Tia, Cirucci's wanting you!"

Wanting her? That sounded so dirty. Shaking her head, she leaned in against the closest counter to her and waited for the phone to be switched between the two of them.

"Well, you interrupted my shower time, what's the problem?"

"What happened last night when I was out?" Cirucci questioned as she tapped her fingernails against the countertop next to her.

The brief pause on the other line seemed to give in to her greater fear as she waited for a long answer- hoping to get something that would at least explain this whole mess to her. A quiet sigh of defeat hinted that she would soon get just that.

"There was another calling last night; we've been tracking it for awhile now and… well it moved in a lot quicker than we expected and we had to take action. Unfortunately, there seemed to be some kind of flaw in the plan… or someone got the details mixed up. Don't worry, the problem was taken care of but there might've been a few… injured in the wake of it."

"And?"

"And… that's it."

She snorted lightly. "That doesn't explain why my front deck looks like a fucking murder scene. I want a direct answer for that at least and Szayel isn't telling me shit."

A longer groan echoed from the other end and was followed by another soft squeak as the woman seated herself on the bed. "Look, after that whole battle and extermination… he did take a hit or two; they're not serious, it just took some time to stop the bleeding… we did make a mess of your porch though, I can get Starrk to paint it over later on though."

"So… while I was out dancing and getting drunk at some high-end shindig… you guys went out, spilled some blood, caused a lot of trouble and screwed up my front porch?"

"Yes."

"Well then yeah, you better be getting out here soon enough to paint over that mess- I don't want the neighbors getting suspicious."

"It'll be done by this afternoon, don't worry." Harribel chuckled as she leaned back in the bed and rested part of her body on top of the still relaxing man. She moved one hand to ruffle through his disarranged brown locks as she fitted the cellphone against her shoulder. "How did your party go anyways?"

She shrugged lightly to herself and moved to fiddle around with a few miscellaneous objects nearby. "It was fun, they had a wine booth which was the highlight of my evening. Me and the Quincy ditched out about halfway through and went back to his place for some more fun, but that was about it."

"Sounds like you."

"Pft, maybe…" Cirucci shrugged. "Well I mean… it just felt different this time, you know."

"Because you might just actually love him?"

"Actually I was thinking more on the lines that all those scars on his back belong to me and I find them kind of sexy in some way… but we could go with your reasoning too."