(no subject)
Who: Shirosaki, Stephanie Brown
Where: Outside on Carnation Court
When: Day 63 Late Afternoon
Rating: PG-13+ for violence and swearing and monsters oh my~
Summary: Hollows really shouldn't be interrupted during a killing spree.
The Story:
He didn't know where the monsters had come from, what they wanted or why they were there. They were strong, they were fast and the hollow couldn't have asked for anything better. There seemed to be dozens of monsters nearby just waiting to tear into him as they faded in and out of the rolling fog.
The hollow stood in the middle of the street with his zanpakutou weapon dripping with blood and a maniac smirk on his face. His white shihakusho uniform was covered in splashes of blood, some his own mixing with that of the creatures he wounded, but he took no notice of that. Eager gold and black eyes hungrily flicked to each shadow that seemed to think about coming after him before they sunk back into the white almost meditatively; as if deciding whether he was appealing enough to eat. If they wouldn't come out then he'd jump into the fray and go to them.
He knew he couldn't keep it up forever, he was tiring with his limited abilities allowing him to take a few more wounds... but fuck it; his enjoyment was much more important than worrying about losing some blood. He could still carry a sword, after all.
Where: Outside on Carnation Court
When: Day 63 Late Afternoon
Rating: PG-13+ for violence and swearing and monsters oh my~
Summary: Hollows really shouldn't be interrupted during a killing spree.
The Story:
He didn't know where the monsters had come from, what they wanted or why they were there. They were strong, they were fast and the hollow couldn't have asked for anything better. There seemed to be dozens of monsters nearby just waiting to tear into him as they faded in and out of the rolling fog.
The hollow stood in the middle of the street with his zanpakutou weapon dripping with blood and a maniac smirk on his face. His white shihakusho uniform was covered in splashes of blood, some his own mixing with that of the creatures he wounded, but he took no notice of that. Eager gold and black eyes hungrily flicked to each shadow that seemed to think about coming after him before they sunk back into the white almost meditatively; as if deciding whether he was appealing enough to eat. If they wouldn't come out then he'd jump into the fray and go to them.
He knew he couldn't keep it up forever, he was tiring with his limited abilities allowing him to take a few more wounds... but fuck it; his enjoyment was much more important than worrying about losing some blood. He could still carry a sword, after all.