Apotheosis
Summary: Hollow no more, a once Vasto-Lorde finds himself fascinated with his new body.
So this is what he looked like…
His fingers traced over the deep green lines running down his cheeks the same color as the green of his eyes. Soft. The skin there was startling soft, softer even than the paler skin of his chest. How could it be? How was this form more powerful? He wondered, with its unarmored limbs and too soft skin? What good were these blunt nails and dull teeth where once had been sharp fangs and sharper claws?
Useless.
And yet…
Inexplicably it felt as though he had gained something. A hole had been filled, a piece of him returned where before there had been only hunger. For the first time in memory he found he had no desire to consume souls. Instead he was filled with sudden need to know, to taste to touch. A new sensation that only grew until he found himself palming every inch of the room, fascinated by each new texture.
It was strange. To have the hunger which so characterized his existence somehow slackened. Yet with that unholy hunger sated there was the awareness of something else. Of another emptiness, now made painfully acute in its absence.
His fingers crept again towards his hair, the novelty of it enthralling. Smoothing. Silky. Pleasant. The adjective dredged up from some hidden corner of his soul and fit with new meanings to catalogue new sensations. What use were these words? They were trivial sensations. Mere observations that amounted to nothing. Yet still he could not keep his hands from wandering to his scalp, stroking down the dark mass where once there had been only hard bone.
Pleasant… The word repeated itself in his consciousness. Yes. It was an apt description for this newness. This hunger without hunger. This emptiness that was both cold and warm and something that was more.
"Ne, don't cha think ya should put on some clothes? I'm not into guys."
He turned. His eyes narrowed as they rested on a grinning shinigami sauntered into the room. Stupid. Absorbed in this new sensation he had not noticed.Useless. If he was stronger… Why…? Why was he fit with these sensations which made him unable to even sense the distinctive nearing of reiatsu? Foolish. In the sands such inattention would mean death. These sensations were useless, a weakness he could not afford.
Movement caught his eye. The shinigami threw something to the floor then turned to give him his back. Gin. The silver-haired shinigami that served Aizen. His eyes settled again on the mirror. Hairline cracks lay testament to his previous surprise. It left his reflection jagged, the pale skin fragmented in such a way the blackness of the hole, high in his throat seemed to streak up his chin.
He turned away from the mirror, eyes flicking to the white bundle that had landed at his feet. It looked familiar, the shape of it stirring something in memory. He picked it up. Yes… Clothing. He required it. The recollection of garments flashing through his mind. The cloth was rough against his fingertips when compared to the fineness of his hair. He looked at it with an appraising eye. Hakama. His mind supplied. Warmth. Protection. Dignity. The words floated to him and he blinked, pondering the last.
Dignity…
Muscular memory took over despite the newness of this nascent body. Sleeves slid up arms. Long fabric was tucked into band of wide-legged pants. His hands, somehow knowing, deftly secured both sets of fabric with a black sash about the waist. The ritual felt familiar. Yet something else was missing. He patted his side, wondering why he felt, suddenly, too light.
"Ya done yet?" The shinigami called out, "I don't want ta get another eyeful."
"Hai." He answered, surprised by the sound of this new voice. What was he now? So different from his previous self, he could find no name for it.
Gin. The shinigami turned back to him. Those narrow eyes looked at him appraisingly as though to confirm his garmented state. "Come," he stated turning, "Aizen wants ta see ya."
Frowning, he followed. The secrets of this body would have to wait. Now he needed to learn just what bargain it was he had made.
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