(no subject)
been a while >_>
Title: Consider This
Pairing: slight Nnoitra/Tesla
Rating: G
Words: 500+
Summary: Tesla evaluates the truth. YES TERRIBLE SUMMARY FFF
A perpetual moon hangs over desert like a glowing thumbnail mark in pressed white into skin, glowing. And it the sun never comes up and the moon never does down and the only place you can see blue skies is inside, tucked in a fortress of cold white. Inside there are sands upon sands like outside, but without the harsh wind and forests and the underground colonies. Inside there is only sentience, but monsters that think before they open their jaws to devour.
They are monsters, and a long time ago Tesla thought differently. Not exactly, the opposite, but there wasn't an absence of hope. He wasn't exactly weak for an Arrancar, but not strong, not ambitious, not notable in any way. His rank only his birth number, which was somewhere in the middle of 100, not the eldest, not the youngest. A long time ago he placed hope in Aizen, like the rest of them, like they were supposed to believe, for salvation.
This is almost like a rule Aizen-sama believes of all this followers: trust in me, trust in me to protect you, to lead you, or else. No one says anything about Aizen's plan except in mellow voices in the dunes because everyone knows the walls have ears and eyes.
Tesla knows better and knows his allegiance is to one person, who is currently hunched in the sand, bitter words coming from his lips. They're truthful words and they hurt. Tesla stands erect, at attention and he realizes how strange this is, this bit of intimacy. At times Nnoitra-sama can be calm, thoughtful and at others a volatile mount of emotions that spew forth over small things like forgotten formality. It's only been a few years since Tesla attached himself to Nnoitra's side and perhaps this is a note-worthy fact, he thinks, not unbitterly, his need for unfailing faithfulness. Like all of them, he was created to serve. Even more so, he bows to it without a second glace, almost like lowering his back to Nnoitra-sama's boot. He can't be a creature of independence, this is not his natural habit; he is not strong enough.
Sometimes when he watches the fluid motions of Nnoitra's sword, when he watches him fight in a cloud of dust, a look of anger, rebellion on his face and Tesla thinks it's no wonder he decided to follow Nnoitra. His strength and rank are one thing, and for another, his malcontent and questioning nature cut through the mask Aizen-sama has thrust upon their unblinking faces: follow me into salvation. But there is no light at the end of the tunnel, Tesla knows.
Nnoitra-sama knows the only release is to die and die standing, swinging, fierce and this is how Tesla knows it will end: they will come out like they came in, monsters, killing and slashing. For a reason he serves Nnoitra-sama: Nnoitra-sama realizes the truth and knows that as long as they are under this moon, surrounded by these sands, in these bodies, they are beasts and forever will be. The only salvation is in the release of the soul and the words written on the skulls of those who think with more than their gratitude, the horror story of the truth.
Title: Consider This
Pairing: slight Nnoitra/Tesla
Rating: G
Words: 500+
Summary: Tesla evaluates the truth. YES TERRIBLE SUMMARY FFF
A perpetual moon hangs over desert like a glowing thumbnail mark in pressed white into skin, glowing. And it the sun never comes up and the moon never does down and the only place you can see blue skies is inside, tucked in a fortress of cold white. Inside there are sands upon sands like outside, but without the harsh wind and forests and the underground colonies. Inside there is only sentience, but monsters that think before they open their jaws to devour.
They are monsters, and a long time ago Tesla thought differently. Not exactly, the opposite, but there wasn't an absence of hope. He wasn't exactly weak for an Arrancar, but not strong, not ambitious, not notable in any way. His rank only his birth number, which was somewhere in the middle of 100, not the eldest, not the youngest. A long time ago he placed hope in Aizen, like the rest of them, like they were supposed to believe, for salvation.
This is almost like a rule Aizen-sama believes of all this followers: trust in me, trust in me to protect you, to lead you, or else. No one says anything about Aizen's plan except in mellow voices in the dunes because everyone knows the walls have ears and eyes.
Tesla knows better and knows his allegiance is to one person, who is currently hunched in the sand, bitter words coming from his lips. They're truthful words and they hurt. Tesla stands erect, at attention and he realizes how strange this is, this bit of intimacy. At times Nnoitra-sama can be calm, thoughtful and at others a volatile mount of emotions that spew forth over small things like forgotten formality. It's only been a few years since Tesla attached himself to Nnoitra's side and perhaps this is a note-worthy fact, he thinks, not unbitterly, his need for unfailing faithfulness. Like all of them, he was created to serve. Even more so, he bows to it without a second glace, almost like lowering his back to Nnoitra-sama's boot. He can't be a creature of independence, this is not his natural habit; he is not strong enough.
Sometimes when he watches the fluid motions of Nnoitra's sword, when he watches him fight in a cloud of dust, a look of anger, rebellion on his face and Tesla thinks it's no wonder he decided to follow Nnoitra. His strength and rank are one thing, and for another, his malcontent and questioning nature cut through the mask Aizen-sama has thrust upon their unblinking faces: follow me into salvation. But there is no light at the end of the tunnel, Tesla knows.
Nnoitra-sama knows the only release is to die and die standing, swinging, fierce and this is how Tesla knows it will end: they will come out like they came in, monsters, killing and slashing. For a reason he serves Nnoitra-sama: Nnoitra-sama realizes the truth and knows that as long as they are under this moon, surrounded by these sands, in these bodies, they are beasts and forever will be. The only salvation is in the release of the soul and the words written on the skulls of those who think with more than their gratitude, the horror story of the truth.