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tampered2007-01-21 01:20 pm
thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-01-21 01:20 pm
Log; Complete
When; January 21st, noon
Rating; PG
Characters; Cirucci {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thunderwitch} & Il Forte {garrisoned}
Summary; The two arrancar hide out and make plans, considering their sudden fall from favor due to recent actions. Note, before Aizen's post~
Log;
Cirucci had known what the outcome of the fight would be. She’d known it ever since she offered Il Forte her support. Couldn’t do it publicly, too risky, too… dangerous. But as often as the Privaron came across as flighty and tactless, she was quite capable of subtleties and secrets when she needed be. And with Il Forte, such was the case. She’d circled overhead a few times, metallic wings glinting off sun and the flash of swords. But it had been clear from the beginning.
It was all the Privaron could do to avoid the shinigami, hide her reiatsu, and wait. It had seemed close; she heard the bee-captain mentioning retrieving the body for herself… not on Cirucci’s watch. She had crept to the location, taking the bleeding body in elongated and taloned hands and flying off, wings beating their way overhead.
Couldn’t take him back to her nest in Aizen’s headquarters. Too dangerous, too risky. Well, they always did say these apartments were for the taking, and in advance, taken one she had. She kept a loft area in one, just in case something like this occurred, and it was there, in the upper floors of the first building, that Cirucci took Il Forte’s body. She nested, something true to her hollow nature, arranging the man in a pile of bandaging and soft down pillows, laying her hands on him and slowly letting her own reiatsu trickle into him, allowing for healing of their kind. But she could only do so much and he did not yet awaken. Sighing, Cirucci set Golondrina beside Del Toro, keeping the blades close at hand in case someone else tried to attack, and waited, pillowing Il Forte’s head in her lap, a surprisingly gentle procedure. But the 15th had always been a personal favorite, and his recent actions? Oh, if Cirucci could feel love she assumed this had to be it.
Night came and then turned to day, the sun at its highest point in the sky when Il Forte’s long eyelashes lifted from his cheeks, blurred vision preventing him from immediately taking in his surroundings. The memory of yesterday came back to him quickly, and with it wakefulness and a jolt of pain as he attempted to sit up. He hissed, clenching his teeth as he recalled the feeling of death at his Brother’s hands. Although it was far more painful than when the shinigami had killed him, he found this defeat to be strikingly less shameful. Perhaps because he was expecting it, perhaps because it was an espada who had killed him. He drew a slow breath, wincing as he did -- he must have broken some ribs -- and blinked, allowing his eyes to focus. When they finally did, he found himself looking into the violet eyes of the Thunderwitch. It came as a relief to him, the possibility of his body being picked up by an on looking shinigami had been all too real, and it would have proved to be quite a nuisance.
"You have my gratitude." He said in a strained voice. It hurt to speak even more than it hurt to breathe, but both were necessary. "Has it been long?"
“Twenty four hours, Il Forte.” Cirucci crooned, holding his shoulders down firmly to prevent him from damaging himself any further. She gazed out the window briefly, paranoid. She knew the captain could very well have seen her absconding with the Arrancar’s body. A surprise may very well be waiting for them outside, for all she knew, though she sensed nothing. She’d seen their master’s announcement on the network. They were both as good as dead… or deader, she supposed. Torture was never fun. But as the other, she found almost… a calm.
“You did very well.” The Privaron’s voice was soft and soothing, much different from her usual tone. “How do you feel?” Idly, she brushed a few long blonde strands with her fingers, shoulders hunched and curled in a little on herself, allowing eyes to meet as they spoke.
"Ah, that’s not long…" He was very much aware of the fact that he had managed to make enemies of many far more powerful than he was yesterday, and began to wonder if perhaps this would all become more trouble than it was worth… But then he remembered the rage in his Brother’s eyes and Reiatsu and drew his lips back in a sneer. Distasteful. No arrancar should feel that much over a shinigami. Even knowing the results, he would have done the same thing again.
"I still cannot… believe what has happened." He snarled, voice barely above a whisper. "It is most disturbing." He looked into the eyes of the Privaron above him, his own filled with anger. "Why must we be punished for it? What has become of Aizen-sama? I do not understand--" He winced, sentence cut short by the pain of his body growing tense from anger.
“Shh~” Cirucci shushed the Numeros, noting the flash of pain that crossed his face. She released more of her own reiatsu through her palms on his shoulders, allowing him to draw from her to heal himself, to knit his injuries back together.
“Cirucci cannot understand it either…” A troubled expression came to her own features. “Aizen-sama has changed. He is no longer the man we followed and served.” She shook her head, waves of shortly worn black hair moving with her. “He actually told Cirucci to treat his shinigami mistress with the same amount of respect as we give him.” The Privaron’s expression darkened further, even though that situation had changed. “And even the others… Espada even, are under the shinigami’s sway…” Her grip on Il Forte’s shoulders had been tightening, but she realized and loosened, patting gently. “Grimmjow fully, but perhaps Ulquiorra can be salvaged… he treats even his woman as beneath him, thankfully, and he offered some help...”
A look of disgust crossed his face at the thought of showing any respect to the whore shinigami, let alone the same respect expected of him to Aizen-sama. Grimmjow was lost, after yesterday he had no doubt, but Ulquiorra… Even then, his last conversation with the espada left him with many misgivings.
"That is a relief to hear, at least." He murmured in reply, his tone indicating anything but. He moved in an attempt to sit up once again, but was stopped by the Privaron’s hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her and said with a tone surprisingly firm for one in a condition such as his, "Let me up."
Cirucci smiled. She expected nothing less from one of her favorites. She took her hands off of him, though she didn’t move anywhere else, keeping close in case he stressed himself. “Il Forte did well with the vice, though.” The Privaron murmured, a smile on her painted lips. “All the shinigami are ever so sad, and they’re up in arms for an end to the truce.” Reaching over, she grabbed Del Toro, holding the zanpakutou out to Il Forte as she spoke.
He took the sword from her as he sat up, wincing as he did, and returned it to where he carried it. "I am beginning to doubt an end to the truce will mean much. They are all so enamored with their filth." With some effort, he found his way to his feet, leaning against the wall for support.
"Thunderwitch, I do not think it is wise for us to remain in a place where our reiatsu can so easily be detected. Is there anywhere in this City where it would be difficult to find someone?" As much as he hated the thought, the best strategy right now was to hide. Facing the wrath of all of Soul Society as well as that of his Brothers would be quite trying, especially in his current condition… That, and he was not quite ready to die again. "You will most likely be seen as an accomplice for helping me." He almost looked apologetic as he spoke those last words, but it could have just as easily been his expression altered by the pain he was in.
“Cirucci already is.” The Privaron stood with a small shrug, stretching languidly, having been sitting in the same position for an entire day. With a small grimace she kneaded a few tense muscles in her back. “Aizen-sama made an announcement in the network calling for us, speaking of the extent of our awaiting punishments.” She certainly didn’t like how that had sounded. And from what she knew of her master, she knew she wouldn’t stop screaming for a long time once he had hold of them.
“We can go a distance.” The Arrancar thought for a moment as she tied Golondrina to her hip, smoothing her skirt, adjusting garters. “As sad as it is that this City has changed the family so much, we must hide, for now.” A few locations would work, she supposed, but one was preferable.
“We can go to the desert, Il Forte. Suppress our reiatsu… lay low, for a time.”
"There is a desert here?" He asked, looking at her with interest. It would be… fitting to stay in a place that looked like Hueco Mundo. He peered out the window, noting the sun was still high in the sky.
"Perhaps it would be best for us to wait for nightfall." He suggested, considering. "There are probably some looking for us.. Especially if Aizen-sama has requested our presence." He shuddered to think of what might be in store, were they caught, and he felt a wave of gratitude that the Thunderwitch has been in City to keep his body hidden.
“Mm, there is.” Cirucci moved to stand beside Il Forte, also peering out the window, arms crossed under the swell of her breasts. “Beyond the forest, and to the west of where the pirates dock in the ocean.” Thinking, the desert probably was the farthest they could get. Cirucci didn’t know how long they would have to lie low, but she hoped something would change in their situation.
This almost felt like betraying Aizen. But… not really, at the same time. Because this was not the Aizen Sousuke she served. She served the Aizen of ruthless ambition, of without fear, and without such petty emotions as love. That was not right, it wasn’t right at all. “We can fly out under night cover.”
He despised this, that they had to hide for doing something Aizen-sama would have once encouraged, but as it was they were left with little choice. "Mm." He agreed quietly. The pain through his body had become a dull ache, but it was still there, and his injuries would still hinder his movements enough that it would be troublesome to run into anyone on the move. Gingerly, he sat on the floor once again, too tired to remain standing, with hopes of healing more before they had to leave. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Perhaps it is.. Only the dead that do not forget themselves here."
Cirucci sighed, flopping down, not sitting but laying on her stomach beside the man, propping her chin on her elbows. “So we do not.” Stretching out, she rummaged about in a small bin nearby, tossing Il Forte a peach with a smirk, taking out one for herself.
“Ulquiorra came to visit, and brought some food.” She said with a smirk. “He offers his support in his matter, believe it or not.” Stockinged feet idly kicked in the air as the Privaron spoke. “He offers also to keep us informed on Aizen-sama’s plans and actions while we are away.”
He had to laugh as he caught the peach, rubbing his fingers against the fuzzy skin of the fruit before taking a bite out of it. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the other peach he had tasted yesterday, but it would have to do for now. As he chewed, he cast a sideways glance at the Privaron beside him.
"That will be helpful, in any case. Maybe things will change." He wasn’t counting on it, but that the possibility existed for Aizen-sama to return to how things had been was better than what he had originally feared.
“Maybe~” Cirucci wiped her mouth delicately, rolling the bitten fruit between her palms. “After all, Ulquiorra’s loyalty is trusted above all of ours. Aizen-sama would never expect that.” The sadistic smile returned to her lips however, as a thought occurred to her. Something she actually hadn’t told the Fifteenth when she explained everything. “But…” She took another bite, waiting a moment before continuing. “Perhaps Aizen-sama will come to his sense, since his shinigami bitch may not want him anymore.”
Il Forte’s eyes lit up at this news and a grin crept across his face. "Is that so? She was so adamant about how they both enjoyed her so yesterday… What might have caused her change of heart, Thunderwitch?" He inquired, fairly certain from the look on the Privaron’s face he already knew the answer.
Cirucci laughed, rolling onto her side to face Il Forte, now propping her head on one arm, the other holding the peach and gesturing as she spoke. “Cirucci spoke to her. And informed her that as much as she seemed to think Aizen-sama loved her, he seemed to love dallying with Cirucci for a night just as much.” Another laugh, one of amusement at another’s pain. “Needless to say, the bitch and Aizen-sama had a bit of a fight. And guess what, Il Forte, it’s far too amusing.” The Privaron didn’t give much time for guessing, however. “The bitch is marrying Ichimaru-sama.”
Il Forte nearly choked on the bite of peach he was about to swallow, wiping his mouth and giving the Thunderwitch an incredulous look. "What?" He set the fruit aside, suddenly having lost appetite.
"Why would Ichimaru-sama… -- Che…" He sighed, resigned. "This place makes fools of us." He rested his head back against the wall, peering out the window. "But if that’s the case, we may not have to go to the desert, correct?"
“If Aizen-sama comes to his senses before nightfall, we may not need to go.” Cirucci laughed, stretching, placing her peach pit aside, pulling a pillow towards her and folding it under her chest, propping herself up. “However, it seems we are still out favor at the moment, dear.” She nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment, eyeing Il Forte, watching for signs of more aggravation of his injuries. “Which means it’s the desert at nightfall.” The arrancar thought for a moment before gesturing towards the nest of pillows she had put together. “Which means you must rest.”
He turned his gaze to the pillows and was reminded of how tired he was upon seeing them. Normally someone telling him what to do would only serve to irritate, but he was still not healed enough to feel like arguing for the sake of it. He nodded and made his way over to the pillows and gingerly made himself comfortable, avoiding laying on any of the worse wounds. He glanced at the Thunderwitch from where he was before closing his eyes, sleep claiming him rapidly.
Cirucci hummed along to herself, smiling. Il Forte had certainly reminded her what her favorites were capable of. For of course, it wasn’t just the physical, they had to have the personality to match. Ruthless killers who enjoyed the hunt and the final blow. The Privaron waited until the Numeros was asleep before she let herself show her own fatigue. It was only fitful sleep she had been able to catch waiting for the man to wake. Sighing, she tousled her hair, stretching again and tossing her pillow across the room in a huff. She waited a few more minutes, just to be sure, before padding over to Il Forte, arranging the other pillows beside him and laying down, shifting until she was comfortable. Staring up at the ceiling, she pouted before finally shifting closer, fitting beside the Numeros. There. Much better. Cirucci’s last thought before sleep was that he had better hurry up and heal, because it had been far too long.
Rating; PG
Characters; Cirucci {
thunderwitch} & Il Forte {garrisoned} Summary; The two arrancar hide out and make plans, considering their sudden fall from favor due to recent actions. Note, before Aizen's post~
Log;
Cirucci had known what the outcome of the fight would be. She’d known it ever since she offered Il Forte her support. Couldn’t do it publicly, too risky, too… dangerous. But as often as the Privaron came across as flighty and tactless, she was quite capable of subtleties and secrets when she needed be. And with Il Forte, such was the case. She’d circled overhead a few times, metallic wings glinting off sun and the flash of swords. But it had been clear from the beginning.
It was all the Privaron could do to avoid the shinigami, hide her reiatsu, and wait. It had seemed close; she heard the bee-captain mentioning retrieving the body for herself… not on Cirucci’s watch. She had crept to the location, taking the bleeding body in elongated and taloned hands and flying off, wings beating their way overhead.
Couldn’t take him back to her nest in Aizen’s headquarters. Too dangerous, too risky. Well, they always did say these apartments were for the taking, and in advance, taken one she had. She kept a loft area in one, just in case something like this occurred, and it was there, in the upper floors of the first building, that Cirucci took Il Forte’s body. She nested, something true to her hollow nature, arranging the man in a pile of bandaging and soft down pillows, laying her hands on him and slowly letting her own reiatsu trickle into him, allowing for healing of their kind. But she could only do so much and he did not yet awaken. Sighing, Cirucci set Golondrina beside Del Toro, keeping the blades close at hand in case someone else tried to attack, and waited, pillowing Il Forte’s head in her lap, a surprisingly gentle procedure. But the 15th had always been a personal favorite, and his recent actions? Oh, if Cirucci could feel love she assumed this had to be it.
Night came and then turned to day, the sun at its highest point in the sky when Il Forte’s long eyelashes lifted from his cheeks, blurred vision preventing him from immediately taking in his surroundings. The memory of yesterday came back to him quickly, and with it wakefulness and a jolt of pain as he attempted to sit up. He hissed, clenching his teeth as he recalled the feeling of death at his Brother’s hands. Although it was far more painful than when the shinigami had killed him, he found this defeat to be strikingly less shameful. Perhaps because he was expecting it, perhaps because it was an espada who had killed him. He drew a slow breath, wincing as he did -- he must have broken some ribs -- and blinked, allowing his eyes to focus. When they finally did, he found himself looking into the violet eyes of the Thunderwitch. It came as a relief to him, the possibility of his body being picked up by an on looking shinigami had been all too real, and it would have proved to be quite a nuisance.
"You have my gratitude." He said in a strained voice. It hurt to speak even more than it hurt to breathe, but both were necessary. "Has it been long?"
“Twenty four hours, Il Forte.” Cirucci crooned, holding his shoulders down firmly to prevent him from damaging himself any further. She gazed out the window briefly, paranoid. She knew the captain could very well have seen her absconding with the Arrancar’s body. A surprise may very well be waiting for them outside, for all she knew, though she sensed nothing. She’d seen their master’s announcement on the network. They were both as good as dead… or deader, she supposed. Torture was never fun. But as the other, she found almost… a calm.
“You did very well.” The Privaron’s voice was soft and soothing, much different from her usual tone. “How do you feel?” Idly, she brushed a few long blonde strands with her fingers, shoulders hunched and curled in a little on herself, allowing eyes to meet as they spoke.
"Ah, that’s not long…" He was very much aware of the fact that he had managed to make enemies of many far more powerful than he was yesterday, and began to wonder if perhaps this would all become more trouble than it was worth… But then he remembered the rage in his Brother’s eyes and Reiatsu and drew his lips back in a sneer. Distasteful. No arrancar should feel that much over a shinigami. Even knowing the results, he would have done the same thing again.
"I still cannot… believe what has happened." He snarled, voice barely above a whisper. "It is most disturbing." He looked into the eyes of the Privaron above him, his own filled with anger. "Why must we be punished for it? What has become of Aizen-sama? I do not understand--" He winced, sentence cut short by the pain of his body growing tense from anger.
“Shh~” Cirucci shushed the Numeros, noting the flash of pain that crossed his face. She released more of her own reiatsu through her palms on his shoulders, allowing him to draw from her to heal himself, to knit his injuries back together.
“Cirucci cannot understand it either…” A troubled expression came to her own features. “Aizen-sama has changed. He is no longer the man we followed and served.” She shook her head, waves of shortly worn black hair moving with her. “He actually told Cirucci to treat his shinigami mistress with the same amount of respect as we give him.” The Privaron’s expression darkened further, even though that situation had changed. “And even the others… Espada even, are under the shinigami’s sway…” Her grip on Il Forte’s shoulders had been tightening, but she realized and loosened, patting gently. “Grimmjow fully, but perhaps Ulquiorra can be salvaged… he treats even his woman as beneath him, thankfully, and he offered some help...”
A look of disgust crossed his face at the thought of showing any respect to the whore shinigami, let alone the same respect expected of him to Aizen-sama. Grimmjow was lost, after yesterday he had no doubt, but Ulquiorra… Even then, his last conversation with the espada left him with many misgivings.
"That is a relief to hear, at least." He murmured in reply, his tone indicating anything but. He moved in an attempt to sit up once again, but was stopped by the Privaron’s hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her and said with a tone surprisingly firm for one in a condition such as his, "Let me up."
Cirucci smiled. She expected nothing less from one of her favorites. She took her hands off of him, though she didn’t move anywhere else, keeping close in case he stressed himself. “Il Forte did well with the vice, though.” The Privaron murmured, a smile on her painted lips. “All the shinigami are ever so sad, and they’re up in arms for an end to the truce.” Reaching over, she grabbed Del Toro, holding the zanpakutou out to Il Forte as she spoke.
He took the sword from her as he sat up, wincing as he did, and returned it to where he carried it. "I am beginning to doubt an end to the truce will mean much. They are all so enamored with their filth." With some effort, he found his way to his feet, leaning against the wall for support.
"Thunderwitch, I do not think it is wise for us to remain in a place where our reiatsu can so easily be detected. Is there anywhere in this City where it would be difficult to find someone?" As much as he hated the thought, the best strategy right now was to hide. Facing the wrath of all of Soul Society as well as that of his Brothers would be quite trying, especially in his current condition… That, and he was not quite ready to die again. "You will most likely be seen as an accomplice for helping me." He almost looked apologetic as he spoke those last words, but it could have just as easily been his expression altered by the pain he was in.
“Cirucci already is.” The Privaron stood with a small shrug, stretching languidly, having been sitting in the same position for an entire day. With a small grimace she kneaded a few tense muscles in her back. “Aizen-sama made an announcement in the network calling for us, speaking of the extent of our awaiting punishments.” She certainly didn’t like how that had sounded. And from what she knew of her master, she knew she wouldn’t stop screaming for a long time once he had hold of them.
“We can go a distance.” The Arrancar thought for a moment as she tied Golondrina to her hip, smoothing her skirt, adjusting garters. “As sad as it is that this City has changed the family so much, we must hide, for now.” A few locations would work, she supposed, but one was preferable.
“We can go to the desert, Il Forte. Suppress our reiatsu… lay low, for a time.”
"There is a desert here?" He asked, looking at her with interest. It would be… fitting to stay in a place that looked like Hueco Mundo. He peered out the window, noting the sun was still high in the sky.
"Perhaps it would be best for us to wait for nightfall." He suggested, considering. "There are probably some looking for us.. Especially if Aizen-sama has requested our presence." He shuddered to think of what might be in store, were they caught, and he felt a wave of gratitude that the Thunderwitch has been in City to keep his body hidden.
“Mm, there is.” Cirucci moved to stand beside Il Forte, also peering out the window, arms crossed under the swell of her breasts. “Beyond the forest, and to the west of where the pirates dock in the ocean.” Thinking, the desert probably was the farthest they could get. Cirucci didn’t know how long they would have to lie low, but she hoped something would change in their situation.
This almost felt like betraying Aizen. But… not really, at the same time. Because this was not the Aizen Sousuke she served. She served the Aizen of ruthless ambition, of without fear, and without such petty emotions as love. That was not right, it wasn’t right at all. “We can fly out under night cover.”
He despised this, that they had to hide for doing something Aizen-sama would have once encouraged, but as it was they were left with little choice. "Mm." He agreed quietly. The pain through his body had become a dull ache, but it was still there, and his injuries would still hinder his movements enough that it would be troublesome to run into anyone on the move. Gingerly, he sat on the floor once again, too tired to remain standing, with hopes of healing more before they had to leave. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Perhaps it is.. Only the dead that do not forget themselves here."
Cirucci sighed, flopping down, not sitting but laying on her stomach beside the man, propping her chin on her elbows. “So we do not.” Stretching out, she rummaged about in a small bin nearby, tossing Il Forte a peach with a smirk, taking out one for herself.
“Ulquiorra came to visit, and brought some food.” She said with a smirk. “He offers his support in his matter, believe it or not.” Stockinged feet idly kicked in the air as the Privaron spoke. “He offers also to keep us informed on Aizen-sama’s plans and actions while we are away.”
He had to laugh as he caught the peach, rubbing his fingers against the fuzzy skin of the fruit before taking a bite out of it. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the other peach he had tasted yesterday, but it would have to do for now. As he chewed, he cast a sideways glance at the Privaron beside him.
"That will be helpful, in any case. Maybe things will change." He wasn’t counting on it, but that the possibility existed for Aizen-sama to return to how things had been was better than what he had originally feared.
“Maybe~” Cirucci wiped her mouth delicately, rolling the bitten fruit between her palms. “After all, Ulquiorra’s loyalty is trusted above all of ours. Aizen-sama would never expect that.” The sadistic smile returned to her lips however, as a thought occurred to her. Something she actually hadn’t told the Fifteenth when she explained everything. “But…” She took another bite, waiting a moment before continuing. “Perhaps Aizen-sama will come to his sense, since his shinigami bitch may not want him anymore.”
Il Forte’s eyes lit up at this news and a grin crept across his face. "Is that so? She was so adamant about how they both enjoyed her so yesterday… What might have caused her change of heart, Thunderwitch?" He inquired, fairly certain from the look on the Privaron’s face he already knew the answer.
Cirucci laughed, rolling onto her side to face Il Forte, now propping her head on one arm, the other holding the peach and gesturing as she spoke. “Cirucci spoke to her. And informed her that as much as she seemed to think Aizen-sama loved her, he seemed to love dallying with Cirucci for a night just as much.” Another laugh, one of amusement at another’s pain. “Needless to say, the bitch and Aizen-sama had a bit of a fight. And guess what, Il Forte, it’s far too amusing.” The Privaron didn’t give much time for guessing, however. “The bitch is marrying Ichimaru-sama.”
Il Forte nearly choked on the bite of peach he was about to swallow, wiping his mouth and giving the Thunderwitch an incredulous look. "What?" He set the fruit aside, suddenly having lost appetite.
"Why would Ichimaru-sama… -- Che…" He sighed, resigned. "This place makes fools of us." He rested his head back against the wall, peering out the window. "But if that’s the case, we may not have to go to the desert, correct?"
“If Aizen-sama comes to his senses before nightfall, we may not need to go.” Cirucci laughed, stretching, placing her peach pit aside, pulling a pillow towards her and folding it under her chest, propping herself up. “However, it seems we are still out favor at the moment, dear.” She nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment, eyeing Il Forte, watching for signs of more aggravation of his injuries. “Which means it’s the desert at nightfall.” The arrancar thought for a moment before gesturing towards the nest of pillows she had put together. “Which means you must rest.”
He turned his gaze to the pillows and was reminded of how tired he was upon seeing them. Normally someone telling him what to do would only serve to irritate, but he was still not healed enough to feel like arguing for the sake of it. He nodded and made his way over to the pillows and gingerly made himself comfortable, avoiding laying on any of the worse wounds. He glanced at the Thunderwitch from where he was before closing his eyes, sleep claiming him rapidly.
Cirucci hummed along to herself, smiling. Il Forte had certainly reminded her what her favorites were capable of. For of course, it wasn’t just the physical, they had to have the personality to match. Ruthless killers who enjoyed the hunt and the final blow. The Privaron waited until the Numeros was asleep before she let herself show her own fatigue. It was only fitful sleep she had been able to catch waiting for the man to wake. Sighing, she tousled her hair, stretching again and tossing her pillow across the room in a huff. She waited a few more minutes, just to be sure, before padding over to Il Forte, arranging the other pillows beside him and laying down, shifting until she was comfortable. Staring up at the ceiling, she pouted before finally shifting closer, fitting beside the Numeros. There. Much better. Cirucci’s last thought before sleep was that he had better hurry up and heal, because it had been far too long.
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