[Log] Sousuke Aizen, Ulquiorra Schiffer (Body Arc)
Title: Sins of the Father (Body Arc)
Characters: Aizen (formative), Ulquiorra (day_eight)
Timeline: April 1, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Even politicians need to be taught lessons.
“And I'm cancelling the highway deal. In fact, you can consider all our deals cancelled. It makes me sick to think that honest people are being forced out of business by the likes of you and I’m putting an end to this. I’m cutting you off.”
Heavy silence hung in the room after Mister dull-grey-suit had strutted out, a smug smirk on his face and his chest swelled like a rooster displaying. Some people were unbelievable...
“The likes of me?” Aizen chuckled softly after a while as he pushed away from the edge of his desk and stood by the window. Calm brown eyes looked for and found the politician’s broad frame stepping out of the building and followed him until he became indistinguishable from the other grey-flannel clad men on the streets.
“Looks like dear old Fitz has finally developed a backbone. How nice for him.” It was a pity, however, that that recent development seemed to have taken place at the expense of the man’s higher brain power.
“Isn’t it, consigliere?” he said lightly, tugging his tie loose to slip it into his pocket and cast an amused glance over his shoulder at Ulquiorra. For someone who’d just been told that he can go fuck himself, the Concavo was in a surprisingly good mood.
Ulquiorra stared at the piece of floor that the politician had recently been standing on. He considered Aizen's question for a moment, silently admiring his employer's ability to remain calm after such an infuriating encounter. Although the consigliere's face was as blank as ever, his insides were crawling with irritation. Any hostility directed towards Aizen put him on edge, although he didn't quite see it that way. It was his job to look out for the well being of the Concavo's; the anger he felt was completely justified, not to mention a natural response. Unclenching his jaw, he nodded once and looked up to meet Aizen's gaze. His hands remained tightly clenched at his sides.
"I'm not sure if 'nice' is the word I would have picked, Mr. Aizen," he replied. It was nice for them, perhaps - but certainly not nice for Mr. Fitzgerald. Performances like the one the politician had just given needed to be dealt with, and Ulquiorra was certain that Mr. Fitzgerald would find his punishment to be anything but nice. He took a step forward and inclined his head. "Would you like me to deal with him?" At the moment he could think of nothing more satisfying than putting a permanent end to the politician's aggravating comments.
Although nothing in Ulquiorra’s demeanour had changed, the older man had a pretty good idea of what was going on inside his architect. It was Aizen who had carefully moulded the architect into the man he was today after all. Reliable, dependable and loyal Ulquiorra Schiffer was the perfect subordinate.
Well, almost perfect. There were still a couple of tiny flaws but it was those flaws which kept this project interesting.
The Concavo felt none of the anger or irritation that was nagging at his consigliere. In fact, it was doubtful whether he felt anything at all, except maybe a smidgeon of amusement. There wasn’t much left in the world that could get to Sousuke Aizen because there was not much left that he still cared about enough.
Turning his attention back to the street below, he watched the throng of people shift around. Yes, they would have to deal with Fitzgerald. Of course, they couldn’t get rid of him. That would create too many problems Aizen didn’t want to be bothered with, but they could send him a small gift to remind him of his place in the grand scheme of things.
Time to see whether his consigliere was thinking the same.
The Concavo focused his attention on the architect and curved his lips into a small smirk. “And have you do what, Ulquiorra?” he asked, letting the younger man’s name roll off his tongue like a purr.
The way that Mr. Aizen said his name made Ulquiorra's mind come to a screeching halt. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze for a fraction of a second, before walking over to join his employer by the window.
"Well," he began, coaxing his thoughts back into order. He knew that they couldn't just kill Mr. Fitzgerald, as appealing as that idea might be. The man was a politician, and politicians were extremely valuable assets - even the rude, disrespectful ones. "It'd be foolish to harm him personally," he thought out loud.
Him personally. That was the key. Ulquiorra leaned against the wall and began to sort through the facts. "Mr. Fitzgerald," he murmured, almost to himself. "Happily married for thirty-two years, two sons and one daughter, enjoys fishing, owns a Labrador named Zeus, drives a Buick...." He paused to glance at Mr. Aizen. "We could kill one of his children. Perhaps one of the sons, since he has two of them."
A small frown marred Aizen’s forehead. Successful career, wife, children and a dog? Fitzgerald’s life sounded as if he was aiming for happiest nuclear family of the year.
It made the Concavo want to heave. A soft derisive sound escaped him and he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Ulquiorra to continue.
“Hm. If he has two, losing one won’t hurt him as much…” Aizen’s voice trailed off as he mulled the possibilities over in his head. Two sons. One daughter. Question was whether the daughter was the apple of daddy’s eye. If she wasn’t, well, there would be no point in taking her. Well, she probably was, considering the happy family image, which opened up another range of possibilities. The sons were only good for getting killed. The daughter, on the other hand - one could always make a profit with women.
“We should start small,” Aizen sighed. “If Fitzgerald proves to be a complete idiot we’ll have room to build.” Smiling warmly, he reached out and patted the younger man’s cheek lightly. “You’ll take care of it?”
Room to build. Ulquiorra could see the sense in that. The three children would, in a way, represent the politician's three strikes. Once those three strikes were up... Well, even someone as brainless as Mr. Fitzgerald would have to get the point after one or two dead heirs.
The young brunet's thoughts stuttered briefly when he felt the weight of Aizen's hand against his cheek. He met the older man's gaze and nodded slowly. "Of course."
Of course he'd take care of it. Ulquiorra didn't stoop to enjoy many things, but he experienced something suspiciously similar to happiness when he was given an issue to resolve for Mr. Aizen. Since the title of "consigliere" came with many such opportunities, it was reasonable to say that young Mr. Schiffer enjoyed his job. And why not? Not even thirty years old, and he was already "adviser" to one of New York's most powerful men. Ten years ago, when he first joined the Concavos, he never imagined that he could come this far. He owed Aizen everything.
"Of course," he said again, squaring his shoulders with a hint of pride. "Consider it done."
“You’re such a good boy.” Aizen cupped Ulquiorra’s chin in his palm and tilted the boy’s head up to study the always so serious face, thinking of the other child he’d picked up almost twenty years ago.
One dark, one light. One didn’t know how to smile, the other didn’t know how not to. Both were deadly in their own way and both would willingly give their lives for him if he asked them to. Sousuke sure knew how to pick them.
The Concavo brushed his thumb lightly across the dark line running down his consigliere’s face before he relinquished his hold on the younger man and stepped towards his desk to collect some papers. “I have to take care of something and won’t be returning to the office later. If you see Gin, tell him to meet me for the thing at the place in the other part of town.” He paused briefly when he realised that his instructions were rather vague, but figuring that Gin would know what he meant, he decided not to elaborate any further and fetched his coat.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ulquiorra. Have a good night.”
Ulquiorra's gaze dropped to the floor when Mr. Aizen touched one of the black lines that marred his stark-white complexion. He wasn't used to having someone touch them, and it made him slightly uncomfortable. Just that simple brush of a thumb was enough to stir up a myriad of haunting memories. He wondered if his boss knew, wondered if he did it deliberately. Someone like Mr. Aizen was just as likely to do it by accident as on purpose.
His green eyes darted back up to focus on the door as Mr. Aizen stepped through it. The thing at the place in the other part of town? Ulquiorra hoped that Gin would know exactly what thing and which place. He didn't want to be blamed if the Capo Bastone ended up in the wrong part of town.
"I will. Good night," he answered, exiting the office behind his employer. After nodding in a final farewell, he turned on his heel and started towards his own office.
He had work to do.
Characters: Aizen (formative), Ulquiorra (day_eight)
Timeline: April 1, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Even politicians need to be taught lessons.
“And I'm cancelling the highway deal. In fact, you can consider all our deals cancelled. It makes me sick to think that honest people are being forced out of business by the likes of you and I’m putting an end to this. I’m cutting you off.”
Heavy silence hung in the room after Mister dull-grey-suit had strutted out, a smug smirk on his face and his chest swelled like a rooster displaying. Some people were unbelievable...
“The likes of me?” Aizen chuckled softly after a while as he pushed away from the edge of his desk and stood by the window. Calm brown eyes looked for and found the politician’s broad frame stepping out of the building and followed him until he became indistinguishable from the other grey-flannel clad men on the streets.
“Looks like dear old Fitz has finally developed a backbone. How nice for him.” It was a pity, however, that that recent development seemed to have taken place at the expense of the man’s higher brain power.
“Isn’t it, consigliere?” he said lightly, tugging his tie loose to slip it into his pocket and cast an amused glance over his shoulder at Ulquiorra. For someone who’d just been told that he can go fuck himself, the Concavo was in a surprisingly good mood.
Ulquiorra stared at the piece of floor that the politician had recently been standing on. He considered Aizen's question for a moment, silently admiring his employer's ability to remain calm after such an infuriating encounter. Although the consigliere's face was as blank as ever, his insides were crawling with irritation. Any hostility directed towards Aizen put him on edge, although he didn't quite see it that way. It was his job to look out for the well being of the Concavo's; the anger he felt was completely justified, not to mention a natural response. Unclenching his jaw, he nodded once and looked up to meet Aizen's gaze. His hands remained tightly clenched at his sides.
"I'm not sure if 'nice' is the word I would have picked, Mr. Aizen," he replied. It was nice for them, perhaps - but certainly not nice for Mr. Fitzgerald. Performances like the one the politician had just given needed to be dealt with, and Ulquiorra was certain that Mr. Fitzgerald would find his punishment to be anything but nice. He took a step forward and inclined his head. "Would you like me to deal with him?" At the moment he could think of nothing more satisfying than putting a permanent end to the politician's aggravating comments.
Although nothing in Ulquiorra’s demeanour had changed, the older man had a pretty good idea of what was going on inside his architect. It was Aizen who had carefully moulded the architect into the man he was today after all. Reliable, dependable and loyal Ulquiorra Schiffer was the perfect subordinate.
Well, almost perfect. There were still a couple of tiny flaws but it was those flaws which kept this project interesting.
The Concavo felt none of the anger or irritation that was nagging at his consigliere. In fact, it was doubtful whether he felt anything at all, except maybe a smidgeon of amusement. There wasn’t much left in the world that could get to Sousuke Aizen because there was not much left that he still cared about enough.
Turning his attention back to the street below, he watched the throng of people shift around. Yes, they would have to deal with Fitzgerald. Of course, they couldn’t get rid of him. That would create too many problems Aizen didn’t want to be bothered with, but they could send him a small gift to remind him of his place in the grand scheme of things.
Time to see whether his consigliere was thinking the same.
The Concavo focused his attention on the architect and curved his lips into a small smirk. “And have you do what, Ulquiorra?” he asked, letting the younger man’s name roll off his tongue like a purr.
The way that Mr. Aizen said his name made Ulquiorra's mind come to a screeching halt. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze for a fraction of a second, before walking over to join his employer by the window.
"Well," he began, coaxing his thoughts back into order. He knew that they couldn't just kill Mr. Fitzgerald, as appealing as that idea might be. The man was a politician, and politicians were extremely valuable assets - even the rude, disrespectful ones. "It'd be foolish to harm him personally," he thought out loud.
Him personally. That was the key. Ulquiorra leaned against the wall and began to sort through the facts. "Mr. Fitzgerald," he murmured, almost to himself. "Happily married for thirty-two years, two sons and one daughter, enjoys fishing, owns a Labrador named Zeus, drives a Buick...." He paused to glance at Mr. Aizen. "We could kill one of his children. Perhaps one of the sons, since he has two of them."
A small frown marred Aizen’s forehead. Successful career, wife, children and a dog? Fitzgerald’s life sounded as if he was aiming for happiest nuclear family of the year.
It made the Concavo want to heave. A soft derisive sound escaped him and he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Ulquiorra to continue.
“Hm. If he has two, losing one won’t hurt him as much…” Aizen’s voice trailed off as he mulled the possibilities over in his head. Two sons. One daughter. Question was whether the daughter was the apple of daddy’s eye. If she wasn’t, well, there would be no point in taking her. Well, she probably was, considering the happy family image, which opened up another range of possibilities. The sons were only good for getting killed. The daughter, on the other hand - one could always make a profit with women.
“We should start small,” Aizen sighed. “If Fitzgerald proves to be a complete idiot we’ll have room to build.” Smiling warmly, he reached out and patted the younger man’s cheek lightly. “You’ll take care of it?”
Room to build. Ulquiorra could see the sense in that. The three children would, in a way, represent the politician's three strikes. Once those three strikes were up... Well, even someone as brainless as Mr. Fitzgerald would have to get the point after one or two dead heirs.
The young brunet's thoughts stuttered briefly when he felt the weight of Aizen's hand against his cheek. He met the older man's gaze and nodded slowly. "Of course."
Of course he'd take care of it. Ulquiorra didn't stoop to enjoy many things, but he experienced something suspiciously similar to happiness when he was given an issue to resolve for Mr. Aizen. Since the title of "consigliere" came with many such opportunities, it was reasonable to say that young Mr. Schiffer enjoyed his job. And why not? Not even thirty years old, and he was already "adviser" to one of New York's most powerful men. Ten years ago, when he first joined the Concavos, he never imagined that he could come this far. He owed Aizen everything.
"Of course," he said again, squaring his shoulders with a hint of pride. "Consider it done."
“You’re such a good boy.” Aizen cupped Ulquiorra’s chin in his palm and tilted the boy’s head up to study the always so serious face, thinking of the other child he’d picked up almost twenty years ago.
One dark, one light. One didn’t know how to smile, the other didn’t know how not to. Both were deadly in their own way and both would willingly give their lives for him if he asked them to. Sousuke sure knew how to pick them.
The Concavo brushed his thumb lightly across the dark line running down his consigliere’s face before he relinquished his hold on the younger man and stepped towards his desk to collect some papers. “I have to take care of something and won’t be returning to the office later. If you see Gin, tell him to meet me for the thing at the place in the other part of town.” He paused briefly when he realised that his instructions were rather vague, but figuring that Gin would know what he meant, he decided not to elaborate any further and fetched his coat.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ulquiorra. Have a good night.”
Ulquiorra's gaze dropped to the floor when Mr. Aizen touched one of the black lines that marred his stark-white complexion. He wasn't used to having someone touch them, and it made him slightly uncomfortable. Just that simple brush of a thumb was enough to stir up a myriad of haunting memories. He wondered if his boss knew, wondered if he did it deliberately. Someone like Mr. Aizen was just as likely to do it by accident as on purpose.
His green eyes darted back up to focus on the door as Mr. Aizen stepped through it. The thing at the place in the other part of town? Ulquiorra hoped that Gin would know exactly what thing and which place. He didn't want to be blamed if the Capo Bastone ended up in the wrong part of town.
"I will. Good night," he answered, exiting the office behind his employer. After nodding in a final farewell, he turned on his heel and started towards his own office.
He had work to do.