Fine Dining [ CLOSED ]
Who: Hanatarou, Yoruichi, and asshole Grimmjow
When: Late Friday evening, definitely after the sirens.
Where: A more or less uninhabited section of the industrial sector; specifically, a gated yard outside one of the warehouses, where machinery and work vehicles (such as cranes, tow-trucks, and backhoes) are parked for the evening.
Summary: Just another evening for Grimmjow, out harassing monsters and looking for a soul for dinner. He'll find one, and more trouble besides.
Warnings: Cussing and gore!
But the odor couldn't entirely mask out the smell or the feel of the dead. Grimmjow had skipped over this spot the last few days because he didn't feel like fucking searching for the damn thing, but after running into that girl in one of the residential districts, some place more deserted sounded like a better idea. Not that he really gave a shit if anyone found him, he just wasn't supposed to be adding to the body pile if he didn't have to.
He got that much, yeah. He knew why they had to keep themselves in line.
Grimmjow just might forget in the heat of the moment.
"Keep tryin' to run, fatass!" The harsh tones of his voice violated the night air; somewhere amongst the hulking metal profiles the beefy man in the yellow helmet gave a pathetic little moan and crawled off to find a better hiding place. What was really damn annoying about this one was that it had the whoooooole yard to itself, so either Grimmjow would get pissed and find some other weakass thing to eat, or Grimmjow would get pissed and start blasting machinery out of his way, or Grimmjow would get pissed and go home and do nothing, just like he'd been doing since he'd showed up in this shithole.
Just thinking about it made his jaw tighten.
"I'm getting fucking sick of looking for you!"
When: Late Friday evening, definitely after the sirens.
Where: A more or less uninhabited section of the industrial sector; specifically, a gated yard outside one of the warehouses, where machinery and work vehicles (such as cranes, tow-trucks, and backhoes) are parked for the evening.
Summary: Just another evening for Grimmjow, out harassing monsters and looking for a soul for dinner. He'll find one, and more trouble besides.
Warnings: Cussing and gore!
But the odor couldn't entirely mask out the smell or the feel of the dead. Grimmjow had skipped over this spot the last few days because he didn't feel like fucking searching for the damn thing, but after running into that girl in one of the residential districts, some place more deserted sounded like a better idea. Not that he really gave a shit if anyone found him, he just wasn't supposed to be adding to the body pile if he didn't have to.
He got that much, yeah. He knew why they had to keep themselves in line.
Grimmjow just might forget in the heat of the moment.
"Keep tryin' to run, fatass!" The harsh tones of his voice violated the night air; somewhere amongst the hulking metal profiles the beefy man in the yellow helmet gave a pathetic little moan and crawled off to find a better hiding place. What was really damn annoying about this one was that it had the whoooooole yard to itself, so either Grimmjow would get pissed and find some other weakass thing to eat, or Grimmjow would get pissed and start blasting machinery out of his way, or Grimmjow would get pissed and go home and do nothing, just like he'd been doing since he'd showed up in this shithole.
Just thinking about it made his jaw tighten.
"I'm getting fucking sick of looking for you!"