Open Drabble Call // Bleach
Alright, my fingers are getting twitchy here.
Open Bleach drabbles and/or one liners call!
Give me three words, and/or a character(s) to work with! Thematics are also welcome, as well as pretty much anything else concept wise. No promises it'll turn out as you expect, though, and yes you can cue evil laugh here. ;)
Bring it!
Open Bleach drabbles and/or one liners call!
Give me three words, and/or a character(s) to work with! Thematics are also welcome, as well as pretty much anything else concept wise. No promises it'll turn out as you expect, though, and yes you can cue evil laugh here. ;)
Bring it!
Rukia
Defiance, sword, ice
She doesn't know to whom this zanpakuto belonged before it was given to her, a streak of darkness sheathed in equal gloom, occasionally whispering at her in low, sibilant hisses. It's been hers since she was adopted into the Kuchiki family, switched from the standard one given to students at the Academy, the only sign that there might even be any life to it expressed in fits of petulant defiance at the most random of moments, and the ice that rims the edges of the mirrors in her room, every morning, stubbornly clinging to the glass, refusing to dissipate no matter how much she breathes upon them.
Rukia returns the sword's hostility with a simple, single-minded stubbornness, refusing to back down, not giving back an inch. She treats it carefully, keeping it almost fanatically well cleaned, never jarring it or allowing it to hit anything or anyone as she walks down the long corridors of the school with it bound to her side.
Neither is sure when the ice started melting in the mornings, nor when the sword one day turned so blindingly white when unsheathed that the sunlight reflected upon it had been nearly blinding.
Neither cares now, anyway. The truce was reached and an alliance forged soon afterwards, which this time, the zanpakuto secretly swears to itself, will not be shattered.
Nothing will be allowed to take this one away. Nothing.
Reply
Leave a comment