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19 May 2011 @ 07:49 am
 It was cold here.

That was the first thing that Orihime noticed within Hueco Mundo. The cold.

The second thing that she noticed was the pure, utter blankness of this place.

It was like being wrapped in a palace of ice, she could have said, almost daring to reach out to touch the wall of her room. But before she could make contact, her hand dropped to her side. This was a prison cell, even with the (white) furnishings provided; a couch to rest upon, a small hallway that led to a bathroom with a toilet and shower for her to clean with, as well as a sink and mirror, a table with a chair by it that she could sit at. Orihime felt like a sore thumb in this room, clad as she was still in her clothing from the real world; the thick woolen sweater of yellow shade draped across her body, warming her up while that short skirt brushed along the midline of her thighs. Thankful of her sweater, she shivered and rubbed her hands together, pausing only to look down at the bracelet that still wrapped its way about her left wrist.

It was something that she barely noticed, so light was the metallic adornment. The fingers of her right hand moved as if she were to take it off before squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn't cry.  She wouldn't cry. Crying would defeat the purpose of why she had come here. And it wasn't like she had been allowed a choice anyways when she had made her decision to leave Karakura Town behind and come to Hueco Mundo. Even now, only mere hours after that encounter with Ulquiorra, Orihime could still hear that clipped, clinical tone in her ears, could see those vibrant green eyes staring into her own. And the words he had spoken.
Ore to koi, onna. "Come with me, woman."
Shivering again, she moved to sit gingerly on the couch before exclaiming in quiet surprise at how comfortable it was and allowed herself to sink into the thick cushions, eyes closing as she felt ready to drift off; spending twelve hours knowing that she could say goodbye to only one person, trying to describe how to leave things to the others and coming so close to showing her affections for Ichigo, only to stop and fail at the last moment, had left her disturbed and tired, both mentally and emotionally. It didn't take long, however, for her to fall asleep and it was that way she would remain until disturbed by someone or something.
10 May 2011 @ 11:03 am
[Casually as ever, Hirako made his way back through the Void. He aimed to return to the real world for a little time with Ichigo before he would wash his hands completely of the place and retire in the small part of Soul Society that had been allocated to his group at the end of the winter war. His feet tapped against the spirit path that eased out in front of him. Hands slunk into his trouser pockets and his lips pursed into a sing-song whistle. He was almost happy.

Upon seeing the rip in the Void, Hirako stopped and glanced round and observed it for a few moments with a raised brow. Contemplating the time (however difficult that might be in the Void), he made a decision to investigate and abruptly turned on the heel of his Armani shoes and heaeed through the rip into the reality beyond.]

"Well, well... what 'av we here?"
Current Mood: cheerfulcheerful
09 May 2011 @ 10:24 am

[ There's a middle-aged man sitting on the veranda to a demure house, a green haori draped across shoulders that were once far too strong to feel the cold yet now require the added warmth. He's built like a very old lion, streaks of grey through a curly, dusky blond mane, periwinkle-blue eyes observing the elegant swipe of his calligraphy brush as he puts pen to paper.

His reiatsu, while perhaps only that of a vice-captain of Seireitei, speaks nothing for the way he carries himself, clearly the head of his own house, a respectable individual. His features are somewhat recognisable, long and pensive with an inherent calm that seems unwavering from a distance.

Get a little closer, however, and you might find he's humming a cheerful tune under his breath, the ink spelling out the word Sousuke. ]

23 April 2011 @ 06:11 pm
[Her steps are lethargic and aimless as she wanders down the sidewalk, and every now and then she stops and clasps her hands before her to peer in through the shop windows, looking at clothes, jewelry, flaky baked goods -- a little of everything. It's a clear spring day, breezy and bright, the best kind of day to window shop.]
07 April 2011 @ 08:39 pm
[Among the slowly flourishing shrubbery in the front yard of a quaint little house is Orihime, on her knees and busy at work. Ever since the snow started to melt and the ground started to thaw, she wasted no time getting to work on a small garden for her home. She'd already had the seeds in addition to all the gardening items she'd wished up, but for now, she was just digging up dirt and getting it prepared (she was making quite a mess of her apron too). Even though she was alone at the moment, she'd been talking to herself to remind herself further of what she'd need to do.]

The tomato plants will go inside for sure, and I think I can start on some of the orchids already, hm... Oh, I almost wish things would frost over at night still! Then I could start and plant all of these!

((ooc: Slow tagger is slow. Wanted to post, but school and work have tendencies to jump into the middle of things. It won't be anything personal if I'm sluggish; it's just my schedule. Sorry!))
06 April 2011 @ 05:59 pm
[ There's a little boy sitting under a ragged tree during early summer rainfall, his yellow-ochre yukata stained and torn with old brown blood as he shivers. Head down, shaggy hair drips steadily onto wiry bent knees, everything about his expression closed off as he cries, mouth open on silent wet sobs. A splash of dirty grey and mint-green lining reveals itself to be his blanket, the slice of an embroidered Fifth-Division emblem stretched across his tiny shoulders. A captain's haori, hugged like his only anchor to reality.

Initially, he doesn't give any reason for his tears, face partially buried in the sodden fabric belonging to an absent older counterpart, nor does he look to be completely stable as he glowers at the same patch of dirt before him, milk-teeth gritted against a fury no child should ever experience first-hand or have play across such an innocent face.

The ground splits in all directions as he throws back his head and yells, backing up firmly against the tiny sapling. Curling in on himself, he gasps and spits out the rain, haori seams splitting with the force around which it surrounds his shoulders. Very quietly, forlorn and lost, he hiccups and whimpers, crying anew.

It sounds very much to keen ears like, I don't want to go to Hell. ]

[ Gin's taking care of the Persimmon Tree Orchard he has in Rukongai, trimming the branches where necessary, bringing water over, checking the soil... He has plans to share the fruit of his efforts like he used to in Seireitei... Just now, most of it will go to children.

And the odd Shinigami.

Taking a break, he sits next to one of the trees and looks at the ground, tracing patterns into the earth. ]

Doin' all this is harder with one arm but... This is the sorta work I don't mind doin'. [ Looks at the tree nearest to him. ]

Don't really consider this ta be work, after all.
Current Mood: calmcalm
14 March 2011 @ 05:26 pm
[There's a storm coming.

Maybe it's the time he spent in Hueco Mundo, where the sky is always black and empty, that makes him sensitive to the changes in the air. Or it's possible that it's just a side-effect of possessing sharper senses. Whatever the case, the signs are there for anyone capable of recognizing them. The subtle drop in pressure. The faint undercurrent of energy electrifying the air. The scent of moisture that, after a cursory glance around, has no immediately identifiable source.

It's coming, and Grimmjow knows it.

Which is why he's out here now, standing at the top of a rise, looking out over the land. The elevation affords him a perfect view of the sky and the clouds that slowly begin to gather. He may not like most forms of weather, he still isn't used to it, but even he'll admit that he enjoys storms. Especially the large ones; those with towering black clouds, deafening crashes of thunder, strong wind, and violent cracks of lightning. The rain he can always do without. There's something about the frenzy of energy released in a storm that calls to him. Captivates him. It's like watching the world at war with itself, and he knows that feeling all too well.

As the wind begins to rise, Grimmjow grins, a wild, reckless expression of anticipation. This promises to be a big one.]
12 March 2011 @ 08:12 pm
[Since the Neutral Zone was so quiet lately and no one was really around... It was bunny stalking time. He's been waiting anxiously for the Spring season to start just for this. And the lack of snow was a bonus.

Yes, somewhere out in the fields of the Neutral Zone, this hollow is spying from behind a tree, or even a rock, and watching out for wild bunnies he can grab to keep as a temporary pet. Not that he can take care of anything.]

Hee hee~ ♥
04 March 2011 @ 08:21 am
[With his pride still a bit sore from getting his ass kicked a few weeks ago--by another him, of all things--this Ichigo has taken to alternating between shunpo and running hard through the Neutral Zone to keep up with his endurance training. He didn't know when he'd go home and he wanted to be prepared in case there was another instance where he had to fight his hollow for his body without messing it up like before. Next time he might not be so lucky...

At least with training alone he wouldn't get distracted and he pushes himself harder with another burst of shunpo over some buildings.]