LOG; spit in the flame; GRIMMJOW + ULQUIORRA
who; Grimmjow and Ulquiorra.
what; Killing shit.
when; Last night.
where; In the castle, and then on the roof~
rating; PG-13
Oh for fuck's sake. How many of these shitty, fugly monsters were going to appear? Turning a corner, he quickly socked a wall man in (what he assumed to be) the face, and felt rather disgruntled when two others popped up. Kicking one in the torso and ripping the other's arm off, he growled discontentedly.
Damn castle with its shitty redecorating and monsters. The very least they could have done, thought Grimmjow, would have been to give them something entertaining to fight. These were just ugly and annoyingly weak.
Ulquiorra had woken up to bloodstains on his carpet and chains rattling in the wardrobe, and promptly swept from his rooms to find and kill Grimmjow. He had tolerated the defecation of his bed clothes to an admirable extent, but this was too much.
But a step out into the castle had proved that theory wrong... his room's disgusting state was no practical joke. The entire castle was just the same. Filthy. Hideously so. He had had just enough time to register that before a hideous creature bearing the shadow of a resemblance to a dog had bounded round the corner and tried to take his arm off. From there his day had been one continuous fight, a fight which stained his clothes with blood and dust and put him in a very foul mood.
Dashing round a corner to evade a thing which had fallen out of the wall, Ulquiorra had just enough time to pull his sword back before it pierced a large, familiar back.
Feeling a familiar reiatsu near him, he spun around when Ulquiorra nearly skewered him.
"... Tch." There wasn't much else to say about the situation at hand.
Ulquiorra acknowledged Grimmjow's annoyed stare blankly.
"Your feet are filthy," he commented, then slashed at something so grotesque that it felt better not to think about it.
"By the way, what's going on?"
... Well. Of course they'd be filthy; he'd been kicking the shit out of .. shit all day. He didn't want to take out Pantera for this trash, even if it had been practically humming for want of fresh blood. But seeing that Ulquiorra had his zanpakutou out as well --
"How the fuck am I supposed t'know?" he retorted, finally drawing Pantera out in one fluid movement, and slicing off the head of a Sniffer. He made a disgusted noise as the blood splattered onto him.
"Watch your aim, please," said Ulquiorra, flicking a drop of blood from his cheek. "And as you're absolutely no help at all, I'll be on my way now-- ah--"
Ulquiorra stumbled, actually stumbled, backwards as one of the doggish things barreled into him, knocking away his breath.
Damn. And I had only diverted my attention for a moment...
His thought processes seemed to cease as the hall he and Grimmjow stood in literally exploded with monsters. From the walls, from the ceiling, from every side and every angle. Within the second he was a blur of white and silver, sword five different places at once, no longer paying attention to the state of his uniform.
He was the Cuatro Espada. The Cuatro Espada did not stumble.
He snorted with laughter at Ulquiorra before his face set into a crazed grin. Well, if these monsters wanted a fight, then a fight would be what they were going to get. He was slashing with Pantera, leaving a trail of blood and severed monster limbs in his wake.
"Ya sure ya can handle this, Ulquiorra?!" he yelled, reveling in the pandemonium.
"Yes," answered Ulquiorra shortly.
It was easy to dispose of the monsters. They were perhaps the lowest forms of trash he had ever encountered. The problem was their seemingly infinite numbers... where were they even coming from?
"However," he called, slicing a flurry of flying things into a pile of bloody things, "I say that we get out of this hall." His hands were completely red. "Promptly."
Still cutting away at the stubborn beasts, he let a gran rey cero gather in one palm, waiting only a moment before letting it release. Hopefully that would slow them down, just a little.
"Fine," he yelled. "Where to?" He really hated the thought of leaving without killing each and every last monster, but like that idiot on the journals said, there seemed to be over nine thousand -- or some other ridiculously large number. And it was only a matter of time before he would get bored of fighting the same enemies over and over again, none of which were worthy adversaries.
"This way."
Curling his thin fingers into a fist, Ulquiorra did the first thing which came into his mind, which was punching the wall to his left very hard. Stepping over it's crumbled ruins, he found himself in... the kitchen.
... The kitchen? Fuck, there were monsters in here, too. He could hear the faint buzzing of the insects that had now infested this place, and the stench of rotting food filled the area. Ugh. He gave a disgusted grunt as he sliced another into two.
Ending up in the kitchen might not have been quite so bad if they hadn't made such a... distracting entrance. At least, Ulquiorra thought, raising a hand to brush his jacket off and then thinking better of it, a few of the airborne chunks of stone had managed to squash things. Unfortunately, all the unsquashed things were currently hurtling at him, and Grimmjow had disappeared from his side, and the smell of blood was heady and overwhelming and...
"Window."
He kept his eyes on the dark square as he slashed his way forward.
Grimmjow got to the window first, punching through it and getting out. He wasn't corporeal, and wasted no time soaring upwards. While it had been stifling inside, he found that outside was somewhat better, even if the complete darkness of it annoyed him. He couldn't see for fuckin' shit.
Grimmjow came hurtling out of nowhere, clothes soaked in blood and a glimpse of neon, and hurtled out the window, then disappeared. Up.
With a sickening squelching noise, Ulquiorra pulled his zanpakutou free from the carnage and followed, flat out sprinting to the ledge, then leaping out into the black. He trailed his fingertips along the side of the castle as he rose, and after a blind, endless, windblown moment, the wall ended, and he was panting on the rooftop.
A few moments later, he landed on the roof near Ulquiorra, using his reiatsu to guide him. For some reason, there were no monsters up here, though he was sure that there were insects crawling all over the place. Standing, holding his zanpakutou over his shoulder, he glared disdainfully into the dark atmosphere.
God, what a shitty place to live in. It was nice in that all the weaklings were being killed off one by one (he laughed mentally at the thought of Luppi dying at the hands of Kurosaki) but he didn't care enough about them to actually want them to die. He'd rather have them around along with the luxuries he had grown accustomed to in Paradisa. Even Las Noches was a pretty nice place to live, even if it was situated in a barren wasteland.
"So have ya been thinkin' of what you're gonna tell Aizen-sama when we get back?"
"I'll tell him what he asks of me," answered Ulquiorra automatically. He fingered his left eye in the darkness. "Or show him. There is no need to think about it ahead of time."
He glided the zanpakutou across his palm, wiping the blood away from it's shining white surface, before sheathing it smoothly.
Wanting to fill the black, the silence with something more, he added, "What will you do when we get back?"
"Tch, finish what I've been intendin' on doing", he said, without a moment's hesitation. "Meanin', kill Kurosaki and anyone else who stands in my path."
Ulquiorra was unusually talkative today, he thought. Usually he was the one who was pushing the awkward silences, but Grimmjow didn't really mind. Though he'd punch himself in the stomach before admitting that.
"Aizen-sama better not have fuckin' replaced us with other arrancar," he spat. His blood boiled at the idea of Szayel or even Aaroniero moving up in their ranks.
"Even if Aizen-sama has done such a thing, it would be a simple matter of killing those inferior to reclaim the position." Ulquiorra paused, his lips just barely curved. "Don't tell me you're scared?"
"As if," he replied shortly. Whenever he thought he could tolerate Ulquiorra, he went ahead and pissed him right the fuck off again. Asshole.
"Like I said, I'll kill anyone who stands in my path."
"What a charming plan," said Ulquiorra, impassively. "But what is your 'path', that all these being are supposedly blocking?"
But he could see it in Grimmjow's eyes. Could see it when he fought. He desired... power. And with some surprise, Ulquiorra realized that he respected that. Not that Grimmjow wanted power, but just that he... wanted.
Giving a short laugh, he asked, "My path? You're on the same damn one, Ulquiorra. Straight to the fuckin' top."
For a moment Ulquiorra could think of nothing to say. It was true enough, he followered Aizen-sama, and Aizen-sama was constantly gaining power, rising higher, but...
"I don't care about that."
"Bullshit."
"Why would I lie?"
Maybe Ulquiorra didn't realize it, but Grimmjow could see. They were Espada, true, but even Espada, in the end, are Hollows, constantly seeking to gain more and more of something, anything.
"Ya are what ya are, Ulquiorra. If it ain't power, what is it?"
He had thought about it before. Frustrated, wracking his brain, thinking surely. Surely there is something that I desire? But no. There was only ever...
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
For once, Grimmjow was quiet.
"Tch. If ya don't want anything, then ya aren't anything."
Pathetic. Everyone needed a reason to fight. He fought for the power and that heady rush he got when he killed. Kurosaki, he knew, was similar. Even the human girl had reasons for fighting, as weak as she was. But Ulquiorra, who was ranked fourth in Aizen's army, didn't even know what the fuck he was doing. In Grimmjow's opinion, that was complete and utter bullshit.
He turned on his heel, drawing Pantera again, intending to head back to his room. He'd heard enough.
Ulquiorra watched Grimmjow's retreating form with half lidded eyes,
"I do what I'm told," he said, half angrily, half talking to himself. He raised his bloodstained hands and struggled to see them in the darkness. "Because if not, what else would I do? What else do I have?"
The answer came naturally. Nothing.
Grimmjow really didn't want to talk about this anymore. He was never one for philosophical conversations. He was more into things like .. killing shit.
"Tch. Shut the fuck up."
He idly squashed a bug he felt crawling on his hand, and wiped it on Ulquiorra's head.
With a strangled noise of surprise Ulquiorra jumped backwards by at least five feet and clawed the bug guts from his hair, glaring.
"You... you... " He clenched his jaw. "Trash." Because madly, he wanted to laugh.
Roaring with laughter, Grimmjow sped away. He only wished that it wasn't so fucking dark so he could see his face, because that felt almost as good as peeing on Ulquiorra's pillow.
Either way, he was going back to his room and taking a fucking nap.
what; Killing shit.
when; Last night.
where; In the castle, and then on the roof~
rating; PG-13
Oh for fuck's sake. How many of these shitty, fugly monsters were going to appear? Turning a corner, he quickly socked a wall man in (what he assumed to be) the face, and felt rather disgruntled when two others popped up. Kicking one in the torso and ripping the other's arm off, he growled discontentedly.
Damn castle with its shitty redecorating and monsters. The very least they could have done, thought Grimmjow, would have been to give them something entertaining to fight. These were just ugly and annoyingly weak.
Ulquiorra had woken up to bloodstains on his carpet and chains rattling in the wardrobe, and promptly swept from his rooms to find and kill Grimmjow. He had tolerated the defecation of his bed clothes to an admirable extent, but this was too much.
But a step out into the castle had proved that theory wrong... his room's disgusting state was no practical joke. The entire castle was just the same. Filthy. Hideously so. He had had just enough time to register that before a hideous creature bearing the shadow of a resemblance to a dog had bounded round the corner and tried to take his arm off. From there his day had been one continuous fight, a fight which stained his clothes with blood and dust and put him in a very foul mood.
Dashing round a corner to evade a thing which had fallen out of the wall, Ulquiorra had just enough time to pull his sword back before it pierced a large, familiar back.
Feeling a familiar reiatsu near him, he spun around when Ulquiorra nearly skewered him.
"... Tch." There wasn't much else to say about the situation at hand.
Ulquiorra acknowledged Grimmjow's annoyed stare blankly.
"Your feet are filthy," he commented, then slashed at something so grotesque that it felt better not to think about it.
"By the way, what's going on?"
... Well. Of course they'd be filthy; he'd been kicking the shit out of .. shit all day. He didn't want to take out Pantera for this trash, even if it had been practically humming for want of fresh blood. But seeing that Ulquiorra had his zanpakutou out as well --
"How the fuck am I supposed t'know?" he retorted, finally drawing Pantera out in one fluid movement, and slicing off the head of a Sniffer. He made a disgusted noise as the blood splattered onto him.
"Watch your aim, please," said Ulquiorra, flicking a drop of blood from his cheek. "And as you're absolutely no help at all, I'll be on my way now-- ah--"
Ulquiorra stumbled, actually stumbled, backwards as one of the doggish things barreled into him, knocking away his breath.
Damn. And I had only diverted my attention for a moment...
His thought processes seemed to cease as the hall he and Grimmjow stood in literally exploded with monsters. From the walls, from the ceiling, from every side and every angle. Within the second he was a blur of white and silver, sword five different places at once, no longer paying attention to the state of his uniform.
He was the Cuatro Espada. The Cuatro Espada did not stumble.
He snorted with laughter at Ulquiorra before his face set into a crazed grin. Well, if these monsters wanted a fight, then a fight would be what they were going to get. He was slashing with Pantera, leaving a trail of blood and severed monster limbs in his wake.
"Ya sure ya can handle this, Ulquiorra?!" he yelled, reveling in the pandemonium.
"Yes," answered Ulquiorra shortly.
It was easy to dispose of the monsters. They were perhaps the lowest forms of trash he had ever encountered. The problem was their seemingly infinite numbers... where were they even coming from?
"However," he called, slicing a flurry of flying things into a pile of bloody things, "I say that we get out of this hall." His hands were completely red. "Promptly."
Still cutting away at the stubborn beasts, he let a gran rey cero gather in one palm, waiting only a moment before letting it release. Hopefully that would slow them down, just a little.
"Fine," he yelled. "Where to?" He really hated the thought of leaving without killing each and every last monster, but like that idiot on the journals said, there seemed to be over nine thousand -- or some other ridiculously large number. And it was only a matter of time before he would get bored of fighting the same enemies over and over again, none of which were worthy adversaries.
"This way."
Curling his thin fingers into a fist, Ulquiorra did the first thing which came into his mind, which was punching the wall to his left very hard. Stepping over it's crumbled ruins, he found himself in... the kitchen.
... The kitchen? Fuck, there were monsters in here, too. He could hear the faint buzzing of the insects that had now infested this place, and the stench of rotting food filled the area. Ugh. He gave a disgusted grunt as he sliced another into two.
Ending up in the kitchen might not have been quite so bad if they hadn't made such a... distracting entrance. At least, Ulquiorra thought, raising a hand to brush his jacket off and then thinking better of it, a few of the airborne chunks of stone had managed to squash things. Unfortunately, all the unsquashed things were currently hurtling at him, and Grimmjow had disappeared from his side, and the smell of blood was heady and overwhelming and...
"Window."
He kept his eyes on the dark square as he slashed his way forward.
Grimmjow got to the window first, punching through it and getting out. He wasn't corporeal, and wasted no time soaring upwards. While it had been stifling inside, he found that outside was somewhat better, even if the complete darkness of it annoyed him. He couldn't see for fuckin' shit.
Grimmjow came hurtling out of nowhere, clothes soaked in blood and a glimpse of neon, and hurtled out the window, then disappeared. Up.
With a sickening squelching noise, Ulquiorra pulled his zanpakutou free from the carnage and followed, flat out sprinting to the ledge, then leaping out into the black. He trailed his fingertips along the side of the castle as he rose, and after a blind, endless, windblown moment, the wall ended, and he was panting on the rooftop.
A few moments later, he landed on the roof near Ulquiorra, using his reiatsu to guide him. For some reason, there were no monsters up here, though he was sure that there were insects crawling all over the place. Standing, holding his zanpakutou over his shoulder, he glared disdainfully into the dark atmosphere.
God, what a shitty place to live in. It was nice in that all the weaklings were being killed off one by one (he laughed mentally at the thought of Luppi dying at the hands of Kurosaki) but he didn't care enough about them to actually want them to die. He'd rather have them around along with the luxuries he had grown accustomed to in Paradisa. Even Las Noches was a pretty nice place to live, even if it was situated in a barren wasteland.
"So have ya been thinkin' of what you're gonna tell Aizen-sama when we get back?"
"I'll tell him what he asks of me," answered Ulquiorra automatically. He fingered his left eye in the darkness. "Or show him. There is no need to think about it ahead of time."
He glided the zanpakutou across his palm, wiping the blood away from it's shining white surface, before sheathing it smoothly.
Wanting to fill the black, the silence with something more, he added, "What will you do when we get back?"
"Tch, finish what I've been intendin' on doing", he said, without a moment's hesitation. "Meanin', kill Kurosaki and anyone else who stands in my path."
Ulquiorra was unusually talkative today, he thought. Usually he was the one who was pushing the awkward silences, but Grimmjow didn't really mind. Though he'd punch himself in the stomach before admitting that.
"Aizen-sama better not have fuckin' replaced us with other arrancar," he spat. His blood boiled at the idea of Szayel or even Aaroniero moving up in their ranks.
"Even if Aizen-sama has done such a thing, it would be a simple matter of killing those inferior to reclaim the position." Ulquiorra paused, his lips just barely curved. "Don't tell me you're scared?"
"As if," he replied shortly. Whenever he thought he could tolerate Ulquiorra, he went ahead and pissed him right the fuck off again. Asshole.
"Like I said, I'll kill anyone who stands in my path."
"What a charming plan," said Ulquiorra, impassively. "But what is your 'path', that all these being are supposedly blocking?"
But he could see it in Grimmjow's eyes. Could see it when he fought. He desired... power. And with some surprise, Ulquiorra realized that he respected that. Not that Grimmjow wanted power, but just that he... wanted.
Giving a short laugh, he asked, "My path? You're on the same damn one, Ulquiorra. Straight to the fuckin' top."
For a moment Ulquiorra could think of nothing to say. It was true enough, he followered Aizen-sama, and Aizen-sama was constantly gaining power, rising higher, but...
"I don't care about that."
"Bullshit."
"Why would I lie?"
Maybe Ulquiorra didn't realize it, but Grimmjow could see. They were Espada, true, but even Espada, in the end, are Hollows, constantly seeking to gain more and more of something, anything.
"Ya are what ya are, Ulquiorra. If it ain't power, what is it?"
He had thought about it before. Frustrated, wracking his brain, thinking surely. Surely there is something that I desire? But no. There was only ever...
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
For once, Grimmjow was quiet.
"Tch. If ya don't want anything, then ya aren't anything."
Pathetic. Everyone needed a reason to fight. He fought for the power and that heady rush he got when he killed. Kurosaki, he knew, was similar. Even the human girl had reasons for fighting, as weak as she was. But Ulquiorra, who was ranked fourth in Aizen's army, didn't even know what the fuck he was doing. In Grimmjow's opinion, that was complete and utter bullshit.
He turned on his heel, drawing Pantera again, intending to head back to his room. He'd heard enough.
Ulquiorra watched Grimmjow's retreating form with half lidded eyes,
"I do what I'm told," he said, half angrily, half talking to himself. He raised his bloodstained hands and struggled to see them in the darkness. "Because if not, what else would I do? What else do I have?"
The answer came naturally. Nothing.
Grimmjow really didn't want to talk about this anymore. He was never one for philosophical conversations. He was more into things like .. killing shit.
"Tch. Shut the fuck up."
He idly squashed a bug he felt crawling on his hand, and wiped it on Ulquiorra's head.
With a strangled noise of surprise Ulquiorra jumped backwards by at least five feet and clawed the bug guts from his hair, glaring.
"You... you... " He clenched his jaw. "Trash." Because madly, he wanted to laugh.
Roaring with laughter, Grimmjow sped away. He only wished that it wasn't so fucking dark so he could see his face, because that felt almost as good as peeing on Ulquiorra's pillow.
Either way, he was going back to his room and taking a fucking nap.