(no subject)
Who: Aizen and Re-l.
When: Backdated to Sunday!
Where: Aizen's pad of awesome.
Summary: Sousuke cooks dinner for Re-l in a bid to get to know her a little better.
Warnings: Will add if they crop up, but it's probably just conversation.
Sousuke had entertained more people since his arrival in Siren's Port than a year in Hueco Mundo could have provided with new allies to woo and enemies to draw in. Las Noches had been (and was, he was certain of it) a spacious creation designed to provide enough room and give the illusion of freedom under a kindly blue sky to those who wished to forget who and what they were. It was a world within a world, so vast that it might take a person weeks at a time to even draw close enough to find it growing bigger in the distance, not just a blot on the horizon but a country in itself.
It was no wonder that he banged his elbows off the cramped conditions in his little professor's cottage, unused to being forced into such a small residence, even as a captain of the Gotei. He had long enjoyed having enough room to move around, not the tallest of men but far from the smallest, and found he fell into a rhythm with every meal he made, leaning back and forth over the counter behind and the shelves above, occasionally wiping steam off the little window out of habit to get a clearer view of the front gate over a wild little garden. The Darkness proofing on the house was perfect, additionally fortified with his own reiatsu and several interwoven kidou enchantments, it was all but a mini impenetrable fortress, home to one of the greatest, most powerful shinigami ever to live.
Currently, it smelled like buttered mushrooms.
He hissed as a big hand accidentally brushed the handle of a pan, wrapping his palm in a tea-towel as he shuffled food about for the better part of an hour. Finally, coming up to half-past five, he set the risotto to a simmering boil and placed the yakisoba aside, leaving the noodles to soften. The dessert could wait, already whisked in the fridge and awaiting a little heat.
There was little for him to choose from as far as clothing went, but he highly doubted his guest would care very much for appearances beyond something presentable. Donning a soft white cotton shirt and brown corduroys, he took a moment to wash his hands and face, smoothing back his hair in preparation. He was not anxious. Ordained gods cared little for the impression they gave on women they hardly knew, especially those who seemingly preferred silver-haired lieutenants - but he checked his NV several times as time ticked on, just to make sure she hadn't posted anything about an emergency to the network.
He was only vaguely irritated when the risotto threatened to burn.
When: Backdated to Sunday!
Where: Aizen's pad of awesome.
Summary: Sousuke cooks dinner for Re-l in a bid to get to know her a little better.
Warnings: Will add if they crop up, but it's probably just conversation.
Sousuke had entertained more people since his arrival in Siren's Port than a year in Hueco Mundo could have provided with new allies to woo and enemies to draw in. Las Noches had been (and was, he was certain of it) a spacious creation designed to provide enough room and give the illusion of freedom under a kindly blue sky to those who wished to forget who and what they were. It was a world within a world, so vast that it might take a person weeks at a time to even draw close enough to find it growing bigger in the distance, not just a blot on the horizon but a country in itself.
It was no wonder that he banged his elbows off the cramped conditions in his little professor's cottage, unused to being forced into such a small residence, even as a captain of the Gotei. He had long enjoyed having enough room to move around, not the tallest of men but far from the smallest, and found he fell into a rhythm with every meal he made, leaning back and forth over the counter behind and the shelves above, occasionally wiping steam off the little window out of habit to get a clearer view of the front gate over a wild little garden. The Darkness proofing on the house was perfect, additionally fortified with his own reiatsu and several interwoven kidou enchantments, it was all but a mini impenetrable fortress, home to one of the greatest, most powerful shinigami ever to live.
Currently, it smelled like buttered mushrooms.
He hissed as a big hand accidentally brushed the handle of a pan, wrapping his palm in a tea-towel as he shuffled food about for the better part of an hour. Finally, coming up to half-past five, he set the risotto to a simmering boil and placed the yakisoba aside, leaving the noodles to soften. The dessert could wait, already whisked in the fridge and awaiting a little heat.
There was little for him to choose from as far as clothing went, but he highly doubted his guest would care very much for appearances beyond something presentable. Donning a soft white cotton shirt and brown corduroys, he took a moment to wash his hands and face, smoothing back his hair in preparation. He was not anxious. Ordained gods cared little for the impression they gave on women they hardly knew, especially those who seemingly preferred silver-haired lieutenants - but he checked his NV several times as time ticked on, just to make sure she hadn't posted anything about an emergency to the network.
He was only vaguely irritated when the risotto threatened to burn.