Author message: Sorry for not updating in a while, got busy with school and such. I'm keeping it up with high b's and a's, so heck to the yeah and now I'm gonna keep on writin'. Hope you all enjoy, as the readers, because I certainly like to write it. (Having a hard time staying in character on some parts, would love some suggestions!)
Alutiereina drew in a slow, deep breath and yawned, arching her back. Her eyelids fluttered and she rolled onto her side, then pushed herself up into a sitting position. Pale satin sheets had been draped over her, and now slipped down to her hips, revealing lengths of smooth skin, a smooth thin neck, seemingly frail shoulders, and soft plump breasts. Her snow-colored hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, tickling the creamy mocha-and-cinnamon colored skin, unmarked by the scratches and bruises that she'd expected to wake up to. No aches assailed her, either. She popped out of bed, pale crimson eyes scanning the room as the cold stone floor kissed her small bare feet. She couldn't help but notice that her feathers were gone.
Al walked across the room, opened the door, and started to run out, but Szayel was standing there. He stuck out an arm and clothes lined her before dragging her back into the room, but not before Tesla looked up at her from his seat on a couch in the hall, red coloring his cheeks. Why?
"You can't go around without covering yourself first, Rina." Szayel said as he drug her over to the bed, shoving her onto it before quickly spinning to walk to a different door. He opened it and walked inside, the already familiar sound of metal sliding against metal as he sifted through those things called clothes that hung inside. "I know your mind is still too innocent to understand this, but if someone sees you without, they'll hurt you."
"I was covered last time, but it didn't stop Kitty from attacking me, now did it?" Al frowned. The clothes hadn't even done anything to reduce the damage he inflicted with each strike. And drop, the clumsy jerk… She stood anyway though, heading this time for a dresser and rifling through the first drawer for the gloves she would wear today.
"That's not what I meant…if you walk around naked, they'll hurt you in a different way." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man who called himself her father walk from the closet, and could tell his face had taken a slightly reddish tone. Why? As she listened, his footsteps echoed behind her, clothing rustled and something landed on the bed with a light puffing sound. She looked over her shoulder at the outfit that had been chosen for her and then Szayel, who glanced at her before heading for the door. "Now hurry and get dressed, your assailant unfortunately finished his little fight with enough health left to wander."
As the door shut, Alutiereina pivoted on her heel, leaning back against the dresser and pressing the drawer closed in the process, exhaling a sigh. She trapped a pale lock of hair between two fingers and began twirling it, shaking her head as she drew the fingertips of her other hand along the red marks that rode her hips, then up over her flat stomach to circle her navel. She then eyed the clothes with distaste. They were just…uncomfortable. Hugging her body too tight, rubbing her skin, wearing down her peace of mind. How the others could stand to go around covered in so much stuff, she wasn't sure.
Alutiereina pushed away from the dresser, going up on the tips of her toes as she took three steps towards the bed, then spun and did a graceful leap before jazz running to the bed and front flipping onto it. Her hair whipped around her, and she smiled. Almost didn't want to slip into those clothes, assuming that perhaps if she stayed in her room no one would bother her. But she still folded her legs under her as she sat up on the bed and pulled the fabrics towards her. Today's selection was apparently black leggings, a long dress like top with a huge slit riding all the way to the hip, the left side sleeved while the whole shoulder of the other was bare. Under that top was fishnet that clearly went underneath and sleeved both arms.
After slipping those items on, she walked to where her sword was, refastening it to her left hip before striding out of the room. Barefoot, again, even though a simpler shoe design had been waiting for her, because she wasn't sure if she could handle feeling completely crowded in these unnatural things. Something Szayel had called a bra and panties had been laid out for her too, but since they were even more uncomfortable than these other clothes… Let's just say both of the lacy white nightmares were still laying untouched on her bed, and she has absolutely no idea what the shredded cloth under her bed is.
She stepped out into an empty hall, since even Tesla was gone now. The walls were spaced at about two four-seater couch lengths apart, floor made up of shiny tiles that were so well polished they were almost reflective. An unreasonably high arched ceiling stretched above her. She had to admit, the place was lovely. The occasional sofa or small wooden table were nice sights, and several doors led off to unexplored rooms. She'd have to look around in them one of these days, but not today. Today, she had to pay back Grimmjow for the random and totally unearned attack.
He was stumbling around nearby, perhaps a few halls over. Behind some closed doors, she could feel other things wandering about as well. Strange things, moving in aimless patterns that made her think they were mindless, zombies ambling about in circles with no real purpose but to put one foot in front of the other. Something she was still having trouble with… Every so often she would stumble and have to throw her arms out to steady herself. How the others made it look so easy, she didn't know. But if she stood straight, leaning ever so very slightly back, she found walking was a lot easier.
After a few turns at the end of several hallways, a tall, muscled man with spiky blue hair stepped out right in front of her. Bruises and cuts covered him much in the way she'd expected them to cover her when she'd woken. It didn't lessen his appeal, even marring that tan skin, all those muscles… He walked normally, like the few wounds didn't affect him at all, even though she could smell blood on him. He'd been cut, she knew that. Quite a bit. His jacket was torn up, and revealed some of those wounds. Shocking gashes with some blood still trickling down, though his head was raised. Wounded and prideful…
She licked her lips, smiling as he continued by. As before, he apparently wouldn't notice her until she was practically right by him. She stepped forward, hurrying to keep up with him. One step for him, though, was the equivalent of three and a half or four for her, so she was having a hard time not making noise in catching up to him, though as she fisted her left hand and drew her arm back, she mentally begged him to notice and turn.
As if he heard those pleas, his head did turn, amazing blue gaze falling on her as he froze, and she struck, punching him in the face. His head spun around, followed by his body, but instead of collapsing to the ground he finished the spin so that when he stopped he was facing her. She threw another punch, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist with ease and squeezed, the pressure almost too much for her small bones, and she yelped. Yanked her hand away, stepping back even as he strode forward, keeping the distance instead of allowing her to lengthen it. Szayel was definitely so very wrong. Clothing does nothing to prevent people from attacking each other. She had punched Grimmjow while wearing them, just the same as she would have if she wasn't.
"You're a fast healer." Grimmjow's fingertips drummed the side of her face, and she waved his hand away, shaking her head before indicating his wounds with a flourish. She tried not to reel over the ease with which he'd crossed the little distance he'd allowed her to keep.
"And you, clearly, are not." She grinned and spun, dancing back on the balls of her feet again before tilting her head and tapping her chin, smiling as she looked him over. His pants were torn up too, it seemed. He was actually missing a shoe, and she could see burns on his foot. From Master Nnoitra? "So hey, have you seen Tesla anywhere?"
A growling Kitty stalked forward, grabbing her by the shoulder and spinning her before pressing a hand to her back and pushing her toward the hall. But, his hand never left her back, and as she walked, he followed. He didn't answer her question, either. Was he mad? Cool. "Seriously. Have you seen Tesla?"
"No, and he better hope I never do." After that, they walked in silence through several halls. Past closed doors, the random lab rat Arrancar, strange machines left sitting in the halls, until Grimmjow gripped the back of her shirt and jerked her to a stop, spinning her as he stepped forward and shoved a door open. Inside stood her 'father', watching several monitors as Arrancar rushed about, all talking quietly at once, and she couldn't discern a single word. Szayel turned when he heard the door open, and Grimmjow shoved her into the room, glaring at the pink-haired man. "Keep your experiments on a leash. Next time one comes and attacks me, I'm killing it."
"Hey!" She spun, eyes widened at Grim's words. She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him, amused that they shared the expression of irritation. "Maybe next time you shouldn't randomly attack people. Besides, I told you I was gonna get back at you for that. Don't act like that one little punch was totally out-of-the-blue, Cat Boy, 'cause it's not."
She had more to say, but as a slow, crazy smile spread across his face, blue eyes flashing, the words fell off the tip of her tongue and ran away, throat closing around any slight choking as she tried to force something out anyway. His hand fell on her shoulder, gripping tight. Too tight, almost painful. "That's quite a mouth you've got, woman."
"Yes, well, I'm rather busy and don't have anything for Rina to do right now, so if you don't mind, go back to your room." She could feel Szayel's hand on her head, fingertips massaging her scalp, and she shook her head, turning to face Szayel and put her back to Grimmjow as though he was no threat. Well, mostly turned her back on Grimmjow. He was still gripping her shoulder, not releasing nor adjusting his arm to allow the movement. The more she tried to turn, the more his fingers dug into her shoulder blades, and she found that in the end all she could do was turn a little before glancing back over her shoulder at Szayel.
"I think I'm going to go wandering again, actually, father. If you don't mind." She looked back away from him though as his hand fell from her head, rolling her eyes. Whether he minded or not, she was going to wander . Hopefully without some mentally unstable blue-haired man's fingers digging into her shoulder the whole time. She looked up at him, filling her eyes and voice with cold, uncaring confidence. "Now, Grimmjow, if you don't mind. I'd like my shoulder back."
He laughed, surprising her as his hand fell away before he stepped aside. Now, nothing was between her and the door. She hadn't expected him to do as she'd requested. Especially since she hadn't been respectful about it. Then again, he didn't strike her as the respectful type, and so probably didn't care for manners. "Keep that up, and I won't be the only one wanting to crush your skull, little girl."
She walked by, raising her chin slightly as she continued giving him that cold look. "Who are you calling a little girl? That's like calling a panther a kitten." She only vaguely noticed that Szayel did not speak again.
Once in the hall, she noticed a man standing there glaring at her. He had blonde hair, and at first she'd thought it was Tesla. And then she realized the hair was long, the shade too light to be his. He had brown eyes as well, but they were narrower, his facial features sharper. A large horned mask fragment sat atop his head, and he wore a half-open jacket with an upturned collar. Like Grimmjow, he had on a white hakama. "You must be my brother's unsightly creation."
"And you must be a random asshole." She flipped him her middle finger before turning to walk off. She wasn't sure where the urge to do that came from, but it didn't stop her. She recognized the action as the insult it was intended to be. Booming laughter again filled her ears as Grimmjow followed her into the hall, holding up a hand to the angered blonde who'd immediately grabbed at his sword and began stalking forward.
They started arguing, but she didn't listen to what they were talking about. Just marched through the halls, looking for the exit to this crazy maze of a palace her father kept. It seemed like these halls went on forever. Perhaps they'd been looped, an attempt by her father to keep her from getting into trouble. She'd know if every door she opened led into her bedroom. Perhaps she should go back and trick Grimmjow into opening a door. Surely, he'd open a door straight outside, as she doubted Szayel wanted the overly impulsive man wandering the halls. Instead, she kept wandering - until she nearly ran headlong into an unbelievably tall man. Spoon-head, again, and she didn't have to look up at him to know that. Only thing was, he didn't have that outfit on today.
Skinny, as always, carrying around that ridiculously large chain scythe. Behind him stood Tesla, gazing silently at her. His face didn't redden upon spotting her this time. Again, why? Nnoitra moved, crouching down in front of her to look her in the eyes, and she met his gaze. "Yes?" This guy, she didn't want to irritate as much. The thought of him angry didn't amuse her.
"Yeah, what do you want, Nnoitra?" Al tossed a glance over her shoulder at Grimmjow. She hadn't heard him come up behind her, but he was there. Along with that blonde again, and a few others. Grimmjow's arms were crossed over his chest, the others simply standing there, arms hanging at their sides. Blondie tossed her a quick glare, and she smirked at him.
Nnoitra patted her head, causing her to look back to the smirking black-haired Espada. "Came to see our pet. She wasn't looking too good after your little tantrum, Six."
She smiled to him, even though she was sure he had no good intentions. This man was a proven traitor, just like her father, who'd enjoyed every minute of what he'd done. Such a person was not trustworthy. Given the choice between being used as a living soccer ball by Grimmjow or dealing with Nnoitra, she would have picked Grimmy. That wasn't even a joke, either. She'd rather be kicked around than talk the fifth espada.
"I can see you favor me no more than you do Aizen-sama." Nnoitra straightened and took a step away, though he was still grinning with those whale teeth of his. Ick. His hand skirted the handle of his scythe, and her gaze followed the action.
"Think to threaten me?" She frowned up to him, knowing perfectly well that anyone in the hall right now could crush her with ease. Of course, that obviously wasn't stopping her snippy comments. Instead of taking the situation seriously, she put a left hand on her hip and ran her right hand's fingers through her hair before flicking the locks over her shoulder, and waltzed around him, smiling again. "I'd love to play tag, but I'm not done exploring. Unless you boys would like to show me around."
Her voice had taken a light, amused tone. Joking, and she'd let that emotion claim even her eyes, though she left an edge in her voice which clearly stated that they were not, in fact, welcome to lead her anywhere. Grimmjow, maybe, since he actually seemed the least shady, but not any of these other strangers. She'd be busy enough trying to get rid of Kitty while looking around. She walked down the hall, aware that she was being followed but not looking to see who it was. Perhaps, if she ignored them, they'd give up and go about their own things.
She couldn't wait for these people to stop treating her like a shiny new toy. It was bad enough she was experiencing a severe case of New Girl syndrome. But, oh well.
Grimmjow walked calmly behind Alutiereina, waiting for her to acknowledge his existence. Which was funny, seeing as he was an Espada while she was just a weak little regular Arrancar, not even numbered. He was the only one who'd really attacked her yet, but somehow he was the only one that irritating - and yes, amusing - woman was not wary of.
His fraccion followed quietly behind him. Ylfordt already hadn't really liked the idea of meeting her, and the careless disrespect she'd shown him hadn't done a thing to change his mind. Disrespect that had been funny as hell, by the way. She'd even shown him the bird. The others seemed fairly amused as well. Of course, she wasn't the creation of their snobby brother's. She was the creation of their comrade's snobby brother, and therefore they had no personal reason to immediately despise her very existence.
Alutiereina - or Lurina, or just Rina, but whatever - knew he was following. He was positive of that. She'd almost looked back when he walked up behind her, but then stopped herself and simply kept walking without a word. Why, he wasn't sure. Irritating woman. He sped up until he was beside her, then slowed his steps so that he stayed directly to her right. Which, he found, meant nearly stopping altogether, her steps were just too short and slow. "You plan on ignoring me forever, woman?"
"Why are you following me, Kitty? I was under the impression you'd be busy murdering Tesla for whatever reason." Her voice was devoid of emotion, and when she looked at him, he saw that icy emptiness reflected in her eyes. Al's gaze flickered away, and she finally sped up. "Or is your fight still with me?"
He barked out a laugh. "All the chances I've had to kill you, and you're under the impression I'm still trying? If I wanted you dead, seriously dead, I could easily scatter your bones through the hall with one punch. Or slam your skull into a wall, crushing it."
"You should. You really should." Ylfordt. Oh yes, he definitely hated her. There was no joke in the man's tone, even though Grimmjow himself had still been laughing as he spoke. A joke met with such seriousness…and was that Alutiereina growling? He glanced at her, and sure enough, her hands were clenched into tight little fists, eyebrows drawn together, pale red eyes flashing in anger. She hadn't been so upset earlier, why now? Her lips were even drawn back in a scowl, showcasing sharp little white teeth.
"It was a joke, dickhead, get a grip." Dear Aizen. It was a low growl, her voice oddly raspy with her anger. And it seemed, with every passing second, she was only getting angrier. Now she was even reaching for her sword. Her pace slowed, and he found himself striding right past her, turning and seeing her back, watching her walking toward Ylfordt. Ylfordt, who stood his ground, glaring darkly down at her with his narrowed brown eyes. He did not reach for his sword, confident in his fists.
Before she was within range to attack him, he stepped forward and swung a fist out. Grimmjow took a step forward, intent on grabbing the blonde's fist and crushing it in his hand before realizing that was what he planned to do. Confused by the impulse, he frowned and watched as she ducked and twisted under the blow before slamming an elbow up into his gut.
Air rushed from the blonde's lungs as he clutched where he'd been hit, actually struggling for a moment to get his lungs working again. Before he could recover, Alutiereina had dropped to the floor, one leg kicked out, and spun to knock his legs out from under him. He dropped and laid there like a rag doll, eyes shut as he suddenly began moaning in pain. Pain that only seemed to be growing. More confused, Grimmjow stepped forward while the remaining men backed away. She shouldn't have been able to hurt him, and yet she'd dropped the man like it was nothing.
It wasn't until he'd nearly fell into the trap as well that he noticed the thin strands of gold seeping from the girl's pores. The air was humming quietly with the electric crackling of each too-small line, swaying in a gentle breeze no one could feel. He knew in that instant immediately why Ylfordt was down, because he was covered in those seemingly delicate strands! They wrapped around him, dug through his clothes, and pierced his skin, which was now beading with sweat. Ylfordt's reiatsu was dropping while Alutiereina's was growing.
He reached out to smack the strands away, but the ones he touched immediately attached to his hand, stretching as he jerked away and remaining slacked, flowing in their nonexistent breeze like fresh spiderwebs. His hand was suddenly on fire, like he'd been stung by a jellyfish, and that painful electrified feeling zipped up his arm and expanded through the rest of his body. Just like that, it was like the floodgates on his own reiryoku had been opened, and it was now pouring from him. He could feel where it was going, though. Could suddenly feel Al's body as though it was his own, could almost…damn, was he hearing her thoughts?
…messed up…
…have to stop…
Grimmjow growled, jerking away again, but again, the strands simply lengthened, holding tight, and his power continued draining. That pain was threatening to overtake him now, much the same way it seemed like it had claimed Ylfordt. His very mind was floating through the strands now. He felt a tugging, and as he opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - he saw some of the strands retracting into the now-shaking girl, curled up in the fetal position. But not the ones attached to him or Ylfordt.
…cero…
Cero? He frowned. What does that have to do with anything? He raised his hand, flicking a bala, and the now-tightening strands snapped, falling away. The ends that were stuck to him fell apart, and the pain began to dull. His power no longer drained out. He threw two more between the girl and Ylfordt.
When the strands fell away, they both gasped at the same time, bodies relaxing. Ylfordt's eyes flickered, and he rolled his head to the side while Alutiereina slumped to the ground. Both in relief, but for visibly different reasons. Grimmjow crouched next to the blonde, brushing his hair out of his face and waving a finger in front of his eyes, waiting to see if Ylfordt's eyes would follow the motion. He glanced over to Al, then put his arms under the blonde and lifted him before nodding at the girl and looking Di Roy in the eye.
The grayish-haired male stepped forward and picked her up, nodding. Shawlong walked to the closest door and opened it, sunlight trailing into the room. All of the Arrancar wandered outside, heading for Grimmjow's palace instead of remaining here in Eight's. They wanted to be the ones to deal with her, before her so-called father saw the footage and came to run most likely fatal tests of his own on the girl, disregarding their orders to keep her alive in order to satisfy his own curiosity about what had just happened.
While walking, he glanced over at the girl in his fraccion's arms, who was mumbling as her head turned slowly from side to side, as though shaking it in denial or trying to make sense of what had just happened. When he noticed the moist trails that led down her face from her eyes, he looked away. Tears were unacceptable.
