(no subject)
The Hueco Mundo Opera
Scene 7
The Prince’s private rooms. The sweet color of an everlasting sunset paints red the room. The Prince paces up and down deep in thought.
HALIBEL:
Heavy is the duty
On my shoulders
At a thousand tragedies
I must close my eyes
Myriads of mishaps
To prevent!
What to men is forgiven,
To women becomes a terrible error
And that makes decisions hard to make
If for once our conscience we were to follow
Men will accuse us of how heart is the one
That rules our head.
But many the times are
That men think with the below head,
Unless of course they are depressed,
In that case they are asexual and/or impotent
And therefore do not concern us…
…at all.
Sun Sun enters.
SUN SUN:
I brought some refreshments, honorable Halibel-sama.
HALIBEL:
Ah! Enough this worry has weighted my chest.
After the customary elongated speech
Necessary to give insight to my character
And preach the poets revolutionary and feministic ideas
I’ll rely on mundane remarks from now on.
There Sun Sun, leave them there.
And bring the cushions too.
Even though, you strive to make me comfortable, sweet Sun Sun
This situation obligates my mind.
Halibel lies against the cushions. Sun Sun lies between her legs, using her bosom as a pillow. Insert subtext, feminism and fanservice.
SUN SUN:
Sweet Halibel-sama
The sunset observe
Isn’t sorrowful when someone as strong as the Sun falls?
Rules we all must obey.
Rules are written on paper, or conscience,
Others come unexpected, like love
The universal line we obey, a cord in a sweet instrument
Touched by the poet’s pick
What poet we call god,
Such sense our actions will make.
Sweet Halibel-sama, away from your heart’s true inclination,
I seek not to drive you away.
I only say…wait…what is this noise?
Random noise is heard.
HALIBEL:
Leave it Sun Sun,
Some hollow the castle will haunt.
You were saying?
SUN SUN:
…Could it be?
HALIBEL:
Be what sweet Sun Sun?
VOICE OFF:
Unfaithful woman!
SUN SUN:
Did you hear it?
HALIBEL:
Hear what sweet Sun Sun?
VOICE OFF:
Un-faith-ful wooo-man!
And I was feeling the sorrow of Yokihi.
SUN SUN:
That voice!
I think I might be going mad!
I recognize that voice!
HALIBEL:
Sun Sun, sweet Sun Sun,
Sit down please, what madness overcomes you?
VOICE OFF:
Un-faith-ful wooo-man!
You quickly forgot about me,
My death it seems was imminent
Not only in destiny, but in your mind as well!
And with a woman?
Unfaithful lover, traitor, a whore’s dog.
Now her scent you carry on your sleeves?
SUN SUN:
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
No, no, no, no, no, no
Go away, horrid ghost
Of bashing!
Sun Sun stands up frantic (again) and runs out of the room, frantic.
She franticly runs out in the halls, with frantic force, franticly hitting against the walls.
Franticly she climbs up the stairs and on the roof she stands.
Like a frantic, tragic heroine of old, her elongated sleeves, flap in the wind…frantically.
Her hollowed eyes mirror her frantic heart, she looks down and up.
She makes the decision fast and leaps off the roof, down at the sand.
But unlike Nell, the frantic woman is dead.
Her black hair fans, the red blood streams, a picture peaceful, she sleeps.
…but note this isn’t over, this is Bleach, there’s still afterlife, after afterlife to go,
So tears don’t shed, my sensitive reader, there’s still more drama to exhaust,
Halibel arrives too late, she peers down the abyss
And a tear trickles down her cheek,
She catches her head, wanting to rip off her hair,
On her knees she falls and weeps for her pair.
She swears to what? Revenge from a ghost,
She knows that’s impossible
And the woe, rises, chokes her at the throat.
But now that her is no more,
The lovers she will forsake
This political dispute she will solve,
It will be all for her sake.
Scene 8
HALIBEL:
Sweetest Sun Sun!
Revenge on your death I pledge
These ghosts of old
That no one thought they would reappear
Deconstructed our happiness,
How many times, will it be clearly stated
That we will all die, all!
For someone’s else lighthearted pleasure
Hideous tragedies are spurred.
A brutal audience, shouts “More, More”
And in our fallacies, twisted sophistications
Give excuses to this roman bath of blood!
Applaud this death, go on!
Oh how terrible!
Oh woe!
Oh the tragedy!
Oh the glory hits my breast, so cold!
Our monumental splendor
Is a device, devised to trick u.s
with ghosts of victory.
But we cannot win,
A friend falls right after the other,
Our foes mock us
Our strength is not enough,
The tables turn so fast
In favor of the heroes
Scene 7
The Prince’s private rooms. The sweet color of an everlasting sunset paints red the room. The Prince paces up and down deep in thought.
HALIBEL:
Heavy is the duty
On my shoulders
At a thousand tragedies
I must close my eyes
Myriads of mishaps
To prevent!
What to men is forgiven,
To women becomes a terrible error
And that makes decisions hard to make
If for once our conscience we were to follow
Men will accuse us of how heart is the one
That rules our head.
But many the times are
That men think with the below head,
Unless of course they are depressed,
In that case they are asexual and/or impotent
And therefore do not concern us…
…at all.
Sun Sun enters.
SUN SUN:
I brought some refreshments, honorable Halibel-sama.
HALIBEL:
Ah! Enough this worry has weighted my chest.
After the customary elongated speech
Necessary to give insight to my character
And preach the poets revolutionary and feministic ideas
I’ll rely on mundane remarks from now on.
There Sun Sun, leave them there.
And bring the cushions too.
Even though, you strive to make me comfortable, sweet Sun Sun
This situation obligates my mind.
Halibel lies against the cushions. Sun Sun lies between her legs, using her bosom as a pillow. Insert subtext, feminism and fanservice.
SUN SUN:
Sweet Halibel-sama
The sunset observe
Isn’t sorrowful when someone as strong as the Sun falls?
Rules we all must obey.
Rules are written on paper, or conscience,
Others come unexpected, like love
The universal line we obey, a cord in a sweet instrument
Touched by the poet’s pick
What poet we call god,
Such sense our actions will make.
Sweet Halibel-sama, away from your heart’s true inclination,
I seek not to drive you away.
I only say…wait…what is this noise?
Random noise is heard.
HALIBEL:
Leave it Sun Sun,
Some hollow the castle will haunt.
You were saying?
SUN SUN:
…Could it be?
HALIBEL:
Be what sweet Sun Sun?
VOICE OFF:
Unfaithful woman!
SUN SUN:
Did you hear it?
HALIBEL:
Hear what sweet Sun Sun?
VOICE OFF:
Un-faith-ful wooo-man!
And I was feeling the sorrow of Yokihi.
SUN SUN:
That voice!
I think I might be going mad!
I recognize that voice!
HALIBEL:
Sun Sun, sweet Sun Sun,
Sit down please, what madness overcomes you?
VOICE OFF:
Un-faith-ful wooo-man!
You quickly forgot about me,
My death it seems was imminent
Not only in destiny, but in your mind as well!
And with a woman?
Unfaithful lover, traitor, a whore’s dog.
Now her scent you carry on your sleeves?
SUN SUN:
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
No, no, no, no, no, no
Go away, horrid ghost
Of bashing!
Sun Sun stands up frantic (again) and runs out of the room, frantic.
She franticly runs out in the halls, with frantic force, franticly hitting against the walls.
Franticly she climbs up the stairs and on the roof she stands.
Like a frantic, tragic heroine of old, her elongated sleeves, flap in the wind…frantically.
Her hollowed eyes mirror her frantic heart, she looks down and up.
She makes the decision fast and leaps off the roof, down at the sand.
But unlike Nell, the frantic woman is dead.
Her black hair fans, the red blood streams, a picture peaceful, she sleeps.
…but note this isn’t over, this is Bleach, there’s still afterlife, after afterlife to go,
So tears don’t shed, my sensitive reader, there’s still more drama to exhaust,
Halibel arrives too late, she peers down the abyss
And a tear trickles down her cheek,
She catches her head, wanting to rip off her hair,
On her knees she falls and weeps for her pair.
She swears to what? Revenge from a ghost,
She knows that’s impossible
And the woe, rises, chokes her at the throat.
But now that her is no more,
The lovers she will forsake
This political dispute she will solve,
It will be all for her sake.
Scene 8
HALIBEL:
Sweetest Sun Sun!
Revenge on your death I pledge
These ghosts of old
That no one thought they would reappear
Deconstructed our happiness,
How many times, will it be clearly stated
That we will all die, all!
For someone’s else lighthearted pleasure
Hideous tragedies are spurred.
A brutal audience, shouts “More, More”
And in our fallacies, twisted sophistications
Give excuses to this roman bath of blood!
Applaud this death, go on!
Oh how terrible!
Oh woe!
Oh the tragedy!
Oh the glory hits my breast, so cold!
Our monumental splendor
Is a device, devised to trick u.s
with ghosts of victory.
But we cannot win,
A friend falls right after the other,
Our foes mock us
Our strength is not enough,
The tables turn so fast
In favor of the heroes