Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Nov 11, 2022 9:20:19 GMT -5
Bored. Bored. Bored.
Milya could hear their own inner monologue driving them up the wall. Time away from Las Noches sounded like such a good idea, getting reacquainted with the endless plains that stretched as far as the eye could see! It sounded so good at the time... and then, Milya remembered. Or rather, realised. These dunes where they used to hunt, day in, day out, are so, so dull in comparison to the inside of that building. There were so many people in that building. So many. And so much conversation, so much tasty conflict and drive and drama, in comparison to the sands. Somehow, they thought that there might be hollows, or even other arrancars, out here. Something fresh to go into Milya's own story as it was written. But... hours and hours later, nothing
Still, they at least brought some wood. And, whittling was the only thing keeping Milya out here. And of course, their own careless words. Oh, I'll be out there at least for a day. Absolutely, there's endless possibilities out there! And, as much as they would never admit it, they were far too proud to turn around after... what time even was it? They used the strange time checking device... three. Five hours. They cannot turn around after only five, especially since three of those hours were spent walking.
The whittling knife carved another block away, a block Milya immediately put in their pocket since it may do for later parts of the sculpture if something goes wrong. Milya still didn't know who they were carving. They had already carved their Espada, and their nemesis... nemeses? Probably plural. It's hard to remember. But for now, the barest block of a person. Perhaps they could make someone up if nothing occurred to them. But, adjusting from their sitting position to lie on their front, Milya pulled a pencil out, starting to sketch out parts they had to define now. Lest their internal monologue continues to be, well... Bored. Bored. Bored. Ugh, there it goes again...
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Nov 11, 2022 18:52:38 GMT -5
Soul Society hadn't worked for his purposes, how foolish had he been to hope that an outskirt of that place could defend him from the hollows that came after him. If he could open a garganta to such a place...what was to stop them? None of the outer spheres of their world could keep him safe. If he had stayed there the only thing that would happen, sooner or later, would be the shinigami finding him as well as his own kind. So why then had he returned home, the one place more dangerous to him than Soul Society or the material plane. He had a theory, and hopefully that theory was true, that and perhaps he missed home just a little.
To travel between the dimensions was do so quickly, the time within a garganta and the similar methods the other races and factions used incredibly quick. There were safeguards that stopped the majority from using the space within to their own desires but the hollows that had come for him had been simple travelers creating a tunnel for themselves and finding him as soon as they set off. So what would happen if they had to physically cross an area to get to him?
So far his guess had been correct and hollows hadn't yet appeared and tried to bite his face off...well, besides the ones he had met while roaming the sands. Even if they couldn't use time to their advantage, they'd still eventually find him if he stayed still. But the fighting had gotten him hungry and after running into a small pack of hollows he had decided to eat a few of them. He slumped down near a tree and grabbed a piece of hollow meat before beginning his meal.
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Nov 11, 2022 20:02:23 GMT -5
The silence was now starting to get to Milya. It had never bothered them before, mere months ago... or weeks, they stopped keeping count by now, they could withstand hours, days of it. Nothing but the quiet shink of the blade running along the block was already getting there. Milya would try and sing, but they knew that not only would that be far less pleasant than the blade, but it would draw less-reputable hollows to their location who would try and eat them. And that wouldn't be fun, slaughter when you're looking for conversation. Even more boring. Boring... boooooring. Ugh.
Then, something occurred to them. They could hear... something else. A shuffle, and... movement? They sensed around for reiatsu, then focused. That is someone. Definitely someone because that is considerably more than your run of the mill hollow. As they stand, they put the carving knife away safely in its holster in their shirt, keeping the block of wood in hand. Then, started walking. The person could be a threat, potentially, but they could also be conversation. And besides, even if it was a fight, Milya knows they can stand up to a lot of damage before anything becomes a real problem, if someone can hit them in the first place. But, they needn't think about that. Milya was going to talk. Not to fight. Though... they had been told, on multiple occasions, that they're horrifically aggravating. Eh, who cares. Aggravating is needed sometimes, so people actually drive forward with what they're doing.
As they get closer, they call out across the sands. "Thank goodness, another person out here in the abyss. How goes your ventures?" They smile, stopping just short of where this person was, just in case they were the type that didn't like to be seen. Which would be a shame, if they particularly liked them, or particularly hated them, Milya would love to actually have a form to carve into this block.
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Nov 11, 2022 20:39:55 GMT -5
Nezuel was thinking when he was distracted by something. His brows furrowed as he looked around, trying to figure out what was happening. He hadn't heard singing of all things in quite some time. He had vague memories of the song being sung, purple hair standing over him and stroking his hair as they fell asleep...but this voice wasn't quite the same as hers and in his own opinion not quite as beautiful. He looked up as someone spoke to him, the red orbs of his eyes trailing along the stranger's body before settling on their eyes. It was another arrancar, just like him but...perhaps newer? Judging by the riatsu it had to be new...or weak, he knew that his existence was a little odd after all.
He opened his mouth and started to sing the same song this person had, picking up where they had left off. He wasn't quite sure of all the notes, but he did his best. When he was done he gave the stranger a smile, not bothering to stand up. "I've found that, even if you arn't good at something, it is always important to finish what you're doing one way or another." He glanced over at the pile of hollows not to far from where he sat, the half-eaten piece of an arm set aside his propped up form. "Another person? There are plenty of hollows on the sands...or do you not consider them a person as you would me?"
He sighed, scratching his head. "Ah...sorry, you caught me in a weird mood...still, a pleasure to meet you...lunch?" He'd say, holding up another piece of the hollow nearby.
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Nov 11, 2022 21:17:40 GMT -5
Huh. Indeed, another arrancar, this far out from Las Noches, in uniform too, but Milya could have sworn that they've never seen this particular arrancar around before. Then the words processed, and a smile broadened across their face. "Why thank you, how could I reject such a generous invitation?" They ask as they take the piece of hollow, a bit of insectile leg, in this case as they plonk themselves down somewhat inelegantly. "As for... well, for one, I can't remember much of the rest of the song. I could try and write it, but it feels odd defiling another's work. And, in regards to personhood, if I can be pleasant with them, and they aren't following some base instinct, such as attempting to me, they are enough of a person. That is often contrary to the case with fellows like these, rest their souls." With a flippancy to their movements, Milya indicated to the scattered carcasses and strewn body parts across this section of the sands.
As they chew a little, they examine the crimson-eyed arrancar before them. Definitely not familiar. Hm. A question for later, not for immediately opening the conversation. Putting someone at ease or under severe pressure is a good way of getting information, and given the very obvious difference between their power and this arrancar's, putting him under pressure wasn't feasible, particularly. But he seemed in a philosophical mood, which is always a good starting point. "Oh, I didn't introduce myself before I sat, how very rude. I call myself Milya," They extend a hand out at the same time as the smile on their face, "nice to meet you, fellow person. How would you define personhood, and the value of adding to another's art, then?"
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Nov 14, 2022 20:22:21 GMT -5
They couldn't have been too new of an arrancar, he supposed. The way they hadn't hesitated to take a piece of a hollow and eat it. Even more impressive was the chitin carapace since humans tended to keep away from such foods. It had taken him some time to move past that pre-conceived notion but sooner or later one had to move past it. After all what were adjuchas but hollows covered in bones almost like a chitin shell? "To be fair, I'm not one for songs...I was actually just remembering someone else singing it." he shrugged then looked at them as the indicated the corpses. "Rest their souls? You realize that they reside in us now that we've eaten them?" unless they were just being poetic...if someone hadn't taught them how hollows worked and what they consumed...but if they hadn't known and been strong hollows why would they be arrancar now?
"If it's all the same to you," he'd say with a smile, offering his hand and shaking theirs, "I'd prefer not to give my name, I don't exactly have a lot of friends in Hueco Mundo, and I'd rather this meeting of ours not get violent." It was true enough, but their meeting would likely turn violent anyways since a hoard of hollows was no doubt on their way.
"Personhood...if you can identify yourself. Being the dominant personality in a Gillian is a good example...but these lesser hollows all have minds and personality, though some might have decayed. As for adding art...I dont' know, I'm more of a destroyer than anything else."
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Nov 19, 2022 12:49:48 GMT -5
The crunch of carapace between fangs was always satisfying to Milya, and it had been a good while since they'd eaten, now they thought about it... huh. Maybe that's what drew them out here. Bringing a clean end to some stories. This new arrancar - clearly not actually new, but definitely new to them - had some interesting... views. Philosophies. Well developed, so he was clearly introspective in some variety. And so... hmm. "Their souls are certainly resting," they say, "in a comfortable lack of existence, their stories now complete." Of course they knew that they had nowhere to go after they had been consumed, other than to feeding their own power, and the power of this gentleman. And stories, as this is certainly an interesting, and notable, encounter. Though most likely not for these dead hollows.
A grin spreads over Milya's lips, as they nod. "Well, nameless you'll be for the time being... though, in honesty, bringing violence to you seems like quite the bad plan." Milya glances over his form, then shrugs, cronching the last bit of carapice down, then gulping. "I'm far better at defending than attacking, anyhow." They were aware they were definitely stronger than any one of these hollows would have been, but they knew. They knew they weren't used to their body yet, and despite being stronger, they haven't had thumbs in centuries. At least, I think it's centuries.
The last statements bring their grin wider, almost unnaturally so. "Oh, as far as I'm concerned, the cannon fodder all seem to fit into personhood quite well as long as they haven't degraded. But, it sounds better in the narrative if they're not. Besides, the ones unwise enough to attack an arrancar are often bordering between person and beast either way. Regardless, anyway, I disagree with your statement. Look at this artistry, look at the wonderful scene you've laid out. Well, gruesome, but it certainly has flavour. Literally and metaphorically." They bring out their block of wood, looking across to the stranger, then continue to carve. He does seem a suitable candidate, though... best not say that. He might not take kindly to his face being hacked into wood if he doesn't even want his face to be known.
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Nov 24, 2022 22:55:38 GMT -5
"Why thank you," he'd say in reply to their words about his little massacre. Truth be told it was always nice to be appreciated for his hard work, half of the reason he tended to bring home some food for Milo and Gran when he could. The work certainly was gruesome, but the arrancar before him didn't seem to mind the sight that would likely cause a human, perhaps even a shinigami, to gag and recoil. He drew his sword then, sheath and all from his belt, laying it on the sand beside him slightly out of reach. It was a show of peace, to say he didn't plan on fighting...though truth be told if he wanted the arrancar in front of him dead he wouldn't need the sword, especially with his particular skillset.
"The main issue with the hollows of the wastes, the lowborn, unevolved, base-kin, whathaveyou would be the fact that, even if they are intelligent, they can still be controlled with but a thought by The Queen." he kept his words measured, careful...it wouldn't do to speak treason so openly without knowing their allegiance. "They are as different as the grains of sand, yet the same to Her. In a way all arrancars are also different whether they be awakened by another or set along that path by themselves. My own powers, defensive such as yours, are perhaps unique because the souls I have devoured within me are not at rest...I feel them even now, their hopes, dreams, and yes power." He turned to the other arrancar, shrugging, before smiling. Hopefully he hadn't scared them off with that odd little ramble.
His eyes looked over the block of wood they had, how they carved it...along with the look over they had given them. A smile formed on his face as he raised an eyebrow, then nodded at the wood. "See something you like?" he'd ask, the vauge flirt meant to make them think that he meant more than one thing. "I'll pose for you if you ask nicely, assuming you catch my good side."
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Nov 27, 2022 10:03:07 GMT -5
A smile affixes itself onto Milya's face as they listen to the stranger's words, though it does briefly flinch and flicker at the sword. They consistently forget about theirs, is this some kind of tradition? Take the sword away as a formality? Yes, it's a weapon, but in Milya's opinion, a completely superfluous one when their entire body is a weapon. Should they do that too? Yes... Milya supposed that they should. So, they briefly put the half-done sculpture down, take their sword, and throw it over a dune with a flippancy and carelessness that doesn't quite seem to register to them. Then, turn their attention back to the arrancar before them.
"Quite a bit that I like, actually," they say quite casually, definitely seeming to notice their current companion's flirtatiousness, but not entirely acknowledging it. It had been years since they'd even tried to do anything even remotely flirtatious, so they figured that starting with someone who wouldn't share their name probably wasn't the best place to start. Even if he seemed quite interesting. But, time would tell. "And, fortunately for you, the angles you've shown so far look good. It's hard to conceal any bad ones in three dimensions."
Milya take a few more moments, carving wood and thinking on the arrancar's words, smile fading a little, though not entirely. "I suppose when you have so much to attend, as The Queen does, it's hard to see the beauty in the minutiae," they muse, a little more quietly, "and truly, you cannot see inside someone's mind, you can't see what they see, or feel what they feel. Which, further to that, is what makes communication, stories, art... all so meaningful. A snippet into someone else's perspective. What art you create, whether it be carved in blood and flesh, or in words, or paint, speak to each person." They trail off a little, whittling at the jawline of the sculpture. "If you'll forgive me for being philosophical, all of a sudden. Though, given our topics of conversation, it's not all that sudden."
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Nov 28, 2022 20:10:24 GMT -5
For Nezuel to take his sword and leave it out of reach was one thing, but to have another arrancar so carelessly let their flop to the side and out of reach was...interesting. For the vast majority of the arrancars that had been made their very beings were inside of those swords, their sealed bodies quite literally screaming to be released, to live again, to be resurrected. He was a little special in that regard, but then again he'd never been particularly drawn towards his blade nor who he had been as a hollow, odd that.
He shook his head at their apologies. "Theres no need for any of that here my dear," he'd say, holding up a hand and waving away any words of forgiveness. "The topics we border upon are philosophical in nature, certainly and it is unlikely any forgiveness is needed as it is unlikely you should offend me. So often our people turn their minds to violence or talk of such and talking about the abstract, even if only a fleeting touch, is rather refreshing." He smiled, was he layering on the flowering words a bit think...perhaps. "But that might be why out people fight so much, if so many of them are only capable of understanding violence then crossing swords, weapons, might be a way to understand one another. Where ones words might be hollow." he gave a pained expression at the unintended pun, "Their actions might be true. I've known people not to accept someone's intentions until they've crossed blades as way of introduction." He nodded at the small block of wood. " Perhaps their violence is simply another form of art..which itself is a way to convey emotions and experiences."
He laid back down on the ground, looking up at the moon and starts in the sky. "You think I'm cute then?" he'd say with a smile, turning the discussion more than 180 degrees. "I don't see the appeal of this body, personally. Its not the one I died with..and it reminds me of an unpleasant time in my life." He held up a hand, just for the contrast in his vision, the glove over the tattoo he'd been given. "I much prefer the form I take in my Resurrección, it more mature..but still not perfect." He trailed off, letting his hand hit the sandy ground as he continued to look up.
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Nov 29, 2022 19:23:26 GMT -5
Milya listens intently to the stranger talk, leaning forward almost earnestly. The perspective was new to them. Of course, they knew how to fight. From what little they knew of their living life, Milya had never been a fighter before, but having their heart swallowed up by the abyss had a way of teaching someone, fast. And like many others, they learned to love the chase, the fight, and even the kill, depending on the opponent. "Violence is certainly a universal language," they muse, "and, at least as far as I am concerned, all languages are capable of art. Not every word spoken is artful, or every action taken, in the case of fighting. It depends on the artists involved, really, as to whether it's a massacre or a beautiful friendship made afterwards, though each have their merits." That being said, Milya really quite hoped that it didn't come to blows with this one. Words seemed to be working well enough.
The sudden contrast in conversation, alongside the bluntness, makes Milya's hand slip with the blade, slicing into their thumb as they curse a handful or archaic phrases. Almost as if it's a regular occurrence, they start applying pressure to the cut, looking at the man as if nothing happened. Is he cute? He's certainly bipedal, and fairly normal-looking as arrancars come. His features, slimline, his mask minimal. Very human. Someone could be forgiven for thinking he was human, though... holding such resentment for a form that he's worked for sounds... painful. A shrug comes over their shoulders. "I think your features are interesting," they admit, "but that's what makes you physically recognisable. You're cute in spirit, which I certainly like." They ponder, pressing a little harder on their finger.
"I can't say I know much about resurrections, though I'm sure yours speaks wonders as to your soul. I've yet to get the hang of this body, never mind the blade, or how to call forth whatever-it-is." They shake their head, smile spreading again. "Though I'm aware it's a part of me. Hollow Queen help us all when thats figured out, my head is loud enough on its own without another figure to contend with." A shiver heads down their spine, their muscles tensing. Milya hoped it wasn't like becoming a Gillian again. That would be... horrifying, after all they had fought for. Though, they supposed, it's what most had fought for to get this power. But still, regardless, that sword wasn't a part of them. Not yet. It's just a blade, and one that gets in the way at that, even if they felt the draw to it, and its pain from time to time.
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Dec 3, 2022 15:55:15 GMT -5
A small frown crossed over Nezuel's features as the other arrancar's words reached him. "I don't know if I should be offended or amused." he would muse almost to himself as he gave the arrancar a smile. "Every guy wants to hear he has a cute personality." though in all honestly he didn't really think there was anything cute about him besides his look, his personality wasn't something one could gain from a small chat like this...or any personality for that matter. "I think you're cute too." he'd say looking then to the arrancar sword before he once again changed the subject. He could certainly keep moving down that line of conversation but for some reason this didn't really seem like the best time, besides anything serious would fail when they figure out just who, or perhaps what, he was.
"Is it rude to ask what you were before you were an arrancar?" he'd offer them, raising a palm towards the sky and he gestured at them. "Typically, one takes part of that form when they release the seal upon themselves. You resurrect the previous form you had and make it stronger." he shrugged, thinking about himself then. "Well, I do say typically because nothing is every so simple and sometimes you don't end up like everyone else." he looked up at them, curious. "If you want someone to try and talk you through the process I'd be willing to try, if you need a mentor to all this?"
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Dec 4, 2022 19:08:33 GMT -5
A chuckle escapes Milya's throat as they look at the stranger, analysing his expression as best they can. Cute is an interesting word to use for them. He seemed cute, given his general concern for such detailed things, personhood, music, art, murder. All that jazz. There were bound to be more descriptors added later, but... cute isn't a description Milya would use for themselves, either physically or mentally. Handsome in body, volatile in spirit, as they have said historically. But, that was perhaps a bit much to add to this already quite intense discussion. Instead, they begin carving at the torso of their sculpture, and say, "Why thank you."
The mention of resurrection, however, makes Milya a little tense. They know what they used to be like, and... well. "Unhinged is the best description I can give to you as to what I used to be like," they say, the smile still present, but teeth definitely gritting together as the cogs in their head grind through this particular problem. Resurrecting their old self? Milya hadn't quite heard that particular representation of it... and that might not be a good thing. They knew they were still probably far removed from the mortal idea of sanity, but... it was loud. And chaotic. And nihilistic for that matter.
Mentorship through all this, though... that would be helpful. But they don't even know this man's name, nevermind his origins, motivations in helping, regardless of how cute he is. Still... it couldn't hurt, right? If nothing else, it would make an excellent point in their biography. "I'd... certainly appreciate some help," Milya says finally, "as for before... I don't find that particularly rude. I was an adjuchas. A fairly new one, at that. It took centuries, I think, to get to the forefront of the big collective." At least, they think it's centuries. It certainly felt like it. Or... has it been decades, or even millennia. "If I managed to get the rough year right, which I think I have." Milya can't quite hide the uncertainty in their voice.
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Player
Continuing to slaughter, kill, take. Life is to constantly sin. Life is evil itself.
nezuel
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Post by nezuel on Dec 4, 2022 19:54:13 GMT -5
"Time always seems to bend in our minds," the arrancar would shrug, "You might find the longer you are alive the more the years blend together, ages don't matter as much...yet you cling onto those of your own generation even more, perhaps even measuring by centuries or decades." He looked around at where they were, considering something but not fully decided yet on wheather or he should bring it up. "Unhinged, eh?" he'd ask, shaking his head "Typically the change one goes through with a resurrection isn't mental but wholly physical. You assume a form closer to that of your adjuchas form with its power while also keeping your higher function and human body. Of course there are always exceptions to the norm but without actually testing you and yourself in that form its impossible to know."
He sat up, grabbing his nearby sword and drawing it a little, letting the light of the moon reflect off the gleaming metal. "Unlike shinigami, who have a spirit that resides within thier zanpaktou, without our there is no spirit, no life, just the remains of what we were...and something we can never fully become again. For a time you're stronger than you were, than you are, but there is of course a trade-off. Just as a shinigami's bankai is the manifestation of their spirit so too is our resurrection. When such a powerful construct is destroyed or maimed, it is done so forever. This might remind you of your days as an adjuchas...to never let another eat a piece of you lest you be unable to grow stronger."
His blade pommel hit the sheath as he hid the metal away. "But enough of that...if you want some practice in fighting, or releasing yourself, do you want to try now?"
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Dec 4, 2022 20:32:41 GMT -5
The tension that had previously pervaded Milya's being releases into calm, as they take a breath of relief. Thank goodness, the thought of their mind degrading after they'd worked so hard to keep it whole - or as close as it could be - was horrifying. Still, resurrecting a bit of yourself that perished seemed to have something poetic about it. Tragic, but poetic. "I didn't even know that's what shinigami did," they muse quietly, before shaking it off quite quickly, "so, in that cold, bladed symbol of how I'm no longer as capable in a fight... is how I become more competent in a fight. That is irksome... but I'm sure it can be worked with." They shrug. It would be interesting to experiment with, if nothing else.
Now, the idea of a fight... that is interesting. This person would flatten them in half a second in an actual fight, but learning not only how to fight in this form, but with this sword... Milya rises to their feet. "If you're offering, I think that would be beneficial," they say, "thank you. But, I would request that, for the time being at least, I don't attempt to resurrect my past self. I'd like to get to grips with all of these bipedal things again first. And opposable thumbs, they're wonderful." Milya pockets the sculpture and the knives easily, looking at the sword with some reluctance.
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