[INCOMPLETE]

[karitenemu]

Who: Ulquiorra, Grimmjow.
When: not long after he arrives.
Where: where Grimmjow ended up.
Rating: TBA.
Warnings: LOL VIOLENCE, MOST LIKELY. ♥
Summary: Ulquiorra's in a bad mood. Grimmjow's still himself. That shit don't generally go down all that well.

Comments

[ihasanarm]

Whereas Ulquiorra found meaning and purpose in Aizen's will, Grimmjow could only find anger at the feeling of not belonging to himself. They had been made, and they could be broken by that same hand, but that didn't mean that Grimmjow was any more pleased with the notion. He despised being afraid, and Aizen was the sole thing that made him feel fear; Aizen and his machinations, all the quiet little ways he wound around that Grimmjow simply didn't understand because that's not how he was built.

He almost growled at the sight of the fourth, hands going deep into his pockets as he adapted his usual uncaring stance, scowling at the smaller arrancar and barely suppressing his snarl. "Stubborn. Tch. Stubborn as'ta what? I don' want'cha botherin' me, so fuck off and go find onea yer masters. I ain't got time fer yer shit."

And wasn't this funny? A small grin twitched it's way onto the sixth's lips, and he turned his back to Ulquiorra, sauntering away from him with blatant disregard for whatever threat the smaller male could have offered. "'sides, how'th'fuck are ya gonna deal with yerself, actually seekin' me out t'talk to me? Fuckin' forbid everythin', hn?" He leaned against the wall, eyes narrowed on the other arrancar.