We're goin' out tonight! To Kick down every light! [Closed | Incomplete ]
WHO: Grimmjow Jeaguerjaquez, Ggio Vega, Kurosaki Ichigo, Shirosaki Hichigo
WHEN: July 17th, morning
WHERE: RUMBLE IN THE BRONX on the street
WARNINGS: UH. Language & violence? Just to cover the bases.
SUMMARY: New arrancar means Grimmjow is rolling out the welcome-smack down
FORMAT: Whatever we like~!
Despite still being covered in more bandages than skin, Grimmjow was not going to let this little Fraccion punk talk to him like that. Boy needed to recognize his betters, and quick.
Actually, it's something of a species trait; the arrogance. There were precious few arrancar who didn't take pride in their strength. In the fact they survived, and fought their way to the top - even the ones that took pride in being strong enough to be granted new forms by Aizen, and the Hyougyoku.
Grimmjow wasn't one of the latter, though. To be perfectly honest, he despised Aizen, and was rather happy that the lord of Las Noches wasn't trying to cause problems for this city, too. But! Grimmjow did take pride in his rank as Sexta. He'd always been confident that a little more time, and a lot more bloodshed would move him up from sixth. Soon enough, he'd challenge Ulquiorra, and beat him, and then only have three more to go. A feral grin darkened his expression as he jumped from rooftop, to rooftop. It wasn't difficult at all to sniff out that Fraccion, what with the erratic gold reiatsu so new here. Even if Grimmjow needed to work at getting his pesuquisu up to snuff, again. Just another thing this stupid body tried to limit. 'Tch.
Pausing on a rooftop, Grimmjow strolled along the edge of the roof, eyes pointed below for that Vega kid. True, they hardly knew each other, but Grimmjow remembered those haughty looks Barragan's Fraccion turned on the other Espada. Oh, they weren't so stupid as to mouth off, or anything, but this little kitten had made just that exact mistake in his first hour here.
"...Let's see what ya got, kid."
WHEN: July 17th, morning
WHERE: RUMBLE IN THE BRONX on the street
WARNINGS: UH. Language & violence? Just to cover the bases.
SUMMARY: New arrancar means Grimmjow is rolling out the welcome-smack down
FORMAT: Whatever we like~!
Despite still being covered in more bandages than skin, Grimmjow was not going to let this little Fraccion punk talk to him like that. Boy needed to recognize his betters, and quick.
Actually, it's something of a species trait; the arrogance. There were precious few arrancar who didn't take pride in their strength. In the fact they survived, and fought their way to the top - even the ones that took pride in being strong enough to be granted new forms by Aizen, and the Hyougyoku.
Grimmjow wasn't one of the latter, though. To be perfectly honest, he despised Aizen, and was rather happy that the lord of Las Noches wasn't trying to cause problems for this city, too. But! Grimmjow did take pride in his rank as Sexta. He'd always been confident that a little more time, and a lot more bloodshed would move him up from sixth. Soon enough, he'd challenge Ulquiorra, and beat him, and then only have three more to go. A feral grin darkened his expression as he jumped from rooftop, to rooftop. It wasn't difficult at all to sniff out that Fraccion, what with the erratic gold reiatsu so new here. Even if Grimmjow needed to work at getting his pesuquisu up to snuff, again. Just another thing this stupid body tried to limit. 'Tch.
Pausing on a rooftop, Grimmjow strolled along the edge of the roof, eyes pointed below for that Vega kid. True, they hardly knew each other, but Grimmjow remembered those haughty looks Barragan's Fraccion turned on the other Espada. Oh, they weren't so stupid as to mouth off, or anything, but this little kitten had made just that exact mistake in his first hour here.
"...Let's see what ya got, kid."