ext_265180 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-02-11 10:21 pm
thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-11 10:21 pm
Log; Complete
When; February 11th, evening
Rating; PG-13 for violence
Characters; Cirucci {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thunderwitch}, Masaki {needsmapquest}, and Zaheela {henkonasuisho}
Summary; Cirucci, angry about the happeenings of today, goes to take her anger out on Masaki, who has been annoying her for some time. Zaheela takes it upon herself to intervene.
Log;
She had found him. Cirucci Thunderwitch had been looking for this human all day. Oh, but it was terribly inconvenient trying to track humans. Their reiatsu was so pitiful. A shame. But the sight of him excited her, knowing what she planned on doing. Abouve all the humans she had met, this one was most annoying, most idiotic, and most deserving of a proper stabbing. And with Golondrina unsealed once more... she planned to give it to him. It had been far too long since she'd killed to sate her hunger. The Privaron was crouched in the open window sill of the male's room, quick as a sonido, aiming to surprise. "Hello, precious~" She purred softly, eyes watching smoothly for any sign of movement that would be dangerous, not that she expected this bumbling fool capable.
Masaki was standing up at his dresser, fumbling around inside looking for his set of headphones. His lack of direction had sent him halfway around the temple in search of the device he needed to listen to music. Kuro and Shiro had gotten bored and left him a while back to do a checkup on the Cybuster. He had been running away from Zaheela all day so they hadn't had time to perform proper checks. Masaki scratched his head, frowning because scratching something while wearing gloves did nothing. So he bent down and looked in the next drawer, absentmindedly leaving the top drawer open. Then he heard Cirucci's voice at the window. In surprise, he jerked his head up, only to have it slam into the top drawer. From that, he slipped and dropped on the floor. He tilted his head back a little to put her in his vision. He let out a soft sigh. "Brazil-chan, what a surprise. Not."
Cirucci snickered. "Because of... hmm, what was it..." She slipped into the room, taking an apprising look about as she did so. Almost what she expected. "... the great lord of Wind should never be surprised by the sudden appearance of a lady in need at his window, yes?~" Her voice was all silk, cleverly concealing the metallic bite that drove the words from her lips.
Masaki rolled over and brought himself to his feet. He stepped over to Cirucci and stuck his forehead against hers. With his queer accent that he had from living with talking cats much of his life, he said, "You got a fever, Brazil-chan?"
Oh, but that just made this even better. He'd made the first contact, making her job so much easier. "You could say that." She answered slowly, voice growing huskier. It only required a slight tilt of her head to cover his mouth with her own for the briefest moment before nipping his lower lip. "Question is..." She murmured, "Do you?"
His eyes jumped open in surprise. Masaki pushed off of Cirucci, stumbling backwards. His hand went to his mouth and blood rushed to his face, turning it beet red. He turned his head to the side, looking at her at the edge of his vision, mumbling something softly.
Cute. Cirucci didn’t move, though her hip cocked to the side as she smiled coyly, reaching down to brush the edge of her short dress. "Speak up?~" She murmured, watching the human carefully. She’d figured him for a virgin, for all his talk, and he only proved her correct. Which made this almost… too easy. Now that was a shame. But it provided entertainment nonetheless.
Wiping his face furiously, Masaki spoke up. "I said I don't know nothing about that." He then viciously pointed at her and began to spout. "What was all that about anyways! You trying to kill a guy?! I thought you kept in your incest family!"
“Maybe the family bores me.” Cirucci smirked, slipping closer. Oh, but that was downright lie. In fact, she looked forward to meeting Il Forte after this. “Or maybe…” She placed her finger lightly against his mouth to attempt and shush his voice, which to her was only incessant human whining. “Or perhaps…” One hand snaked about his waist. “… you merely won me with your persistence.” This was disgusting.
Worry shot through him. He sucked at these kind of situations. Badly. He was going to give his best though. Masaki raised his hand an interposed it between their two faces. "Sorry Brazil-chan. As much as you may be tempted, I have 4 girlfriends. I'm flattered and all but uhhhhh..." His voice trailed off as he searched for words. He then picked back up. "I get beat up enough already by them. If they ever found out, I'd die! So, you win?"
“Poor boy…” Cirucci crooned. “They beat you so badly?” And it was easy for her, an Arrancar’s strength against a human’s, to neatly make a single movement to pin him against the wall, hip to hip. Quite easy, considering how flustered he was. Just a bit more and she could get to the fun part. “Not as badly as Cirucci can beat you… want to bet?” She muttered, one hand dropping to begin inching up his shirt and the other against the side of his face.
He put his hands on both of her arms, struggling to stop her. "N-n-n-n-no b-b-bets." He squirmed around trying to escape. It's not that he didn't like it, it's just that he wasn't used to it. These type of situations always made him feel awkward. He prayed to himself that she wouldn't take it any further.
"Okay~" The Arrancar nipped, seemingly eager, at the human's ear. "No bets." Her voice was becoming tinged with something else... an edge of danger. "Just this, hmm?" Her voice thrummed with it, the danger, the thrill. Because she knew any minute now... just one more push... her hand slid across his stomach under the fabric of his clothing, enjoying the squriming motions he made in attempts to escape her natural strength belied in her build.
It had to stop before it went too far. So Masaki braced his back against the wall and lifted up his feet, planting them on Cirucci's stomach. He pushed hard, trying to forcefully get her away before it got worse. "You know, rape is wrong," he said in between grunts of exertion.
Cirucci licked her lips, looking with bored eyes at his feet against her stomach, her own feet planted firmly. She did not speak for a moment, smirking. And then Golondrina released. The blast of spirit energy was more than she would usually release, but she let herself enjoy it after days of having the zanpakutou sealed. It was enough to bring almost any human, without high levels of spirit power, to their knees. But she didn't want that for this one, now. She thought it annoying she could not fully extend her wings in this room; but folded them pinioned on her back, the extended and taloned claws of her Hollow release snapping out to neatly, aiming to stab through the human's soft abdomen, directly between the ribs and under the chest. Mmm... blood...
The power had almost overwhelmed him. It caught him off guard, leaving him unprepared. Masaki knew nothing about spirit power and it's pressure but he did know the effect that powerful enemies had. When she changed, it left Masaki pissed off. First, he had been conned, obviously. Second, she was cheating! She was huge compared to him! Finally, he felt underestimated. After that thought, he mentally slapped himself knowing he had obviously wanted that. When the claw swung at him, it's aim at his heart, he dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. He ended up with his side being slashed, but it wasn't a horrible injury. When he drew himself to his feet, he snorted. "Hmph, don't get all high and mighty Brazil-chan. When it comes to speed, you're a slug in the snow. Next time, if you want to surprise me, do it when I'm not looking or at like 4 in the morning. Okay?"
It annoyed Cirucci that her enemy would be like herself, so coy and damnably angering in the midst of a fight. But no matter, they were empty words. She knew that. With the loud and painful scream of metal scraping against metal she extended her wings sharply, the furthermost pinions embedding in the walls of the room, effectively blocking the young man in a small area. The tail of her released form snapped at him, the mouth opening to reveal the salivating maw as it began gathering spirit energy within. “You talk well, for a human.” She laughed, a grating noise, and her talons were moving again, to impale, to stab, the mouth at tail’s end watching carefully for his dodge.
He jumped to the side again. But this time, no. No time to cast spells for more agility. That left him slower than normal. He caught a talon to the right of his stomach, sticking all the way through him. Sweat poured down from his face and he gritted his teeth in pain. He pulled himself off of it and dropped to one knee. Masaki started to experience tunnel vision but still plastered a smile across his face. "See, still too slow. Just give me a sec and I'll show you what for."
Cirucci's painted lips turned into a sadistic grin, her entire countenance changed at the sight of the blood on her talons. Zaera-polo had given her permission to kill this human, and she planned to do just that. She was terribly upset she had to cut this short. Her spirit energy would have already alerted the sensative, and she was sure the loud noises of her Hollow form weren't helping. A pout came to her face even as the tail viciously latched onto the male's legs, holding him still. The speed she did not address, taking a moment to lick the crimson liquid from a talon. "Masaki..." She crooned, even as her arm drew back. "... It's not rape unless you scream 'no'." And with that the sharp claws flew forward, aimed at his chest. They would not miss this time.
Zaheela had at first been aimlessly searching for her wayward student, her growling contained due to her wish not to reveal her location. Passing through the shadows, she leapt from tree to tree until she noted something was drastically wrong. The wards... as shabbily made as they were, were down. Also the distressing pressure made her uneasy. “Masaki, you moron.” She hissed under her breath as she once again darted forward, her form blurring again as she resumed her trek. Her ears twitched, she could hear two people talking. One was Masaki; the other was someone she disliked. She increased her speed and her eyes came upon the most distressing of sights. She didn't even say a thing, just reacted. Blades sprung from their sheaths and she slammed her shoulder into Masaki's side, not so gently shoving him out of the way. Talons sunk into flesh, but not of their intended. No, their new home was to say... Enraged. “Bitch...” She snarled, blades crossed against the base of the talons, halting their quest to sink through her side. “I TOLD you that if you harmed him, you'll be facing ME” She didn't feel like holding back any more. Mana swirled, released, and snarled. One difference between spirit energy and Mana... Mana was ALIVE. The loosely formed beast hissed as it curled around its channel. Screw her mana limiter; she'd take the bitch down if she had to.
Cirucci had to admit a surprise at finding her talons embedded not in the soft flesh of the human male, but in the warm tissue of the female thing. The Privaron had never cared to learn what she was, only called her by her appearance, kitty, or 'mortal'. This one vexed her too, but she had reasons for not moving against her. Zaera-Polo may have given her permission to kill the human idiot... but he had expressly forbidden her speaking, let alone harming his pet. ... This one. Which meant her boned talons, now slick with blood, may have had their death warrant signed by this stupid, foolish, mortal's intervention. ... And that made her angry. Her own spirit energy flared back against the intrusion of mana and her face immediately contorted into one of indignant rage as she held her talon still, unable to move it for fear of causing her own demise with this one's. If she died, as disgusting as it was, she knew Zaera-Polo may have her head. "Get out of the way." She snapped, with a crack of her tail that sounded like a whip, it released hold on Masaki to seemingly eye this new one warily even as the Arrancar's wings rescinded from the wall, metal on metal, preparing for flight, her fun interrupted.
Masaki began to choke and puked up a mouthful of blood. He was thankful for Zaheela saving him but annoyed was also a term that could apply. "What was that all about, Zah-oneechan?! I had her right where I wanted her!" He stumbled to his feet with his left hand reaching across his stomach, holding the gaping wound. He held out his right hand. A small blue ball formed as he weakly summoned his sword. It popped into his hand, holding the black sheath. "Sorry Brazil-chan, but since you are cheating, I'm gonna..." He stopped and fell over. Loss of blood made him to weak to stand anymore. He still fought to get up but to no avail.
It was then she saw the true extent of the wound, and her eyes flashed red, focusing on the bitch who had dared hurt her student. If it couldn't get any bigger in the eyes of her spectators, then they were in for a surprise. Her Mana flared once again, curling, swirling; she wanted BLOOD. He may have been an idiot, innocent, but he was still he precious student, her brother, and if the BITCH thought she was getting away unscathed, screw her. A piece of paper flicked into her hand and she murmured something, before flinging herself backwards and blurring. Now, Masaki had seen her as a white mage or a Bard, and while they were decent in a fight, they weren't ATTACK jobs. Ninja, however, focused on speed, and had teeth. She appeared behind Cirucci and threw something into the air before chanting “KATON:NI!” A Burst of fire bloomed to life and slammed itself into the other woman, her mana following close behind to slam the woman even further out of the room. The Bitch would not forget this day. Zaheela swore it, as she lunged forward herself, ignoring the bleeding wound she still sported.
"Be thankful the only thing keeping me from killing you is an Espada's order!" Cirucci snarled, feeling the bones on her back and head warm against the fire, but they did not melt or break. Her feathers singed. ... That only further angered her. The scream of metal accompanied her twirling movement to turn and face Zaheela, boned arms held defensively as she facilitated her own retreat from the room. As much as she hated the very idea of retreating, she valued her own life more, and any further injury to this woman would forfeit it at the hands of Zaera-Polo.
"Where do you think you are going?" Masaki had his sword out of his sheath and stabbed into the ground. He used it to shakily pull himself to his feet. "I still owe you a stab or two. If you leave now, I'll just have to get interest." He leaned heavily on the sword and took deep breaths, trying to keep himself from fainting. Deep down inside him, he was steeling his heart. Preparing for that last charge that always brought him to victory no matter what. It was tough but he thought he could pull himself through it.
Zaheela was growling, blood lust clouding her judgment. She could feel her rage simmering, but Masaki honestly did need help. If she turned her back now, who knew what could happen. She knew that these people were vengeful types, and that most likely she would be BACK to finish the Job. Masaki may have been powerful with his Mecha, but alone, he wasn't as nearly as skilled. She ignored the mentioning of an Order, storing it as 'he wants to kill me himself after he's done playing' and taking a step forward. She gripped her Fudo before flinging it at Cirucci's head, the blade streaking forward to at least cut her face, if not impale it.
The cut on her face was nothing. She'd had worse, seen worse, felt a blade-arrow pierce her chest, and she could handle this. And as hard as it was for the Privaron, and oh, it was hard to avoid anger. They were beasts of instinct, hunger, and rage, embed with logic. And that conflicted, at times. But logic told her she would feel an Espada's wrath if this continued, even though her instinct told her it would be all to easy to release the seal of her sword further, let a cero gather in the tail's mouth, and unleash it to blow them away. Masaki's words were nothing to her, the binging of a human whine, and Zaheela's anger only fueled her own she was forced to hold back. With a frustrated snap of her tail the Arrancar turned and pushed off the edge of the building, wings extending with the snap of metal and bone. She would be gone from this place.
"Goddammit!" Masaki was pissed but was halfway delirious from loss of blood and pain. "Get back here Shu, you bastard! I'll get you this time!" He attempted to stagger forward but fell over again. Once again, tears of rage poured from his eyes as the enemy managed to escape from him once again. He slammed his fist onto the floor, thinking that Cirucci was his pink haired rival, Shu, and that he had failed to catch him again.
Masaki wouldn't last much longer, but she had to impede the arrancar's movement somehow and distract her. “Sorry, but I'm not a Ranger and I don't use ranged attacks...” And with a flicking motion, the thrown Blade had removed itself from the tree it had embedded itself. The moment it had started to shake, she used her full speed, one that couldn't be seen by mortal eyes unused to such speeds and slid her held blade in between the metal plates of the left wing. Hand snapping upwards, she grabbed her falling blade and swung it downwards and the other blade upwards. The enchanted metal bit into bone and metal, slicing off half of the left wing before passing in an x mark in the air. Once the wing began to fall, she kicked off the remaining half and twisted into the air. Sheathing her blades as she landed, she continued at her high speeds away from the Arrancar. She winced as her side screamed at the harsh movements, blood staining her side, but continued running. Grabbing Masaki and hurling him over her shoulder, she took off at a speed which could almost pass off as Sonido, perhaps 1 or 2 notches below it, and fled with her student.
There was no feeling in the wings themselves. They were made of bone, of metal blades. But in between the bones, where marrow would be, raged spirit energy. And at the snapping of the joint, the blades digging into her very matter, energy, she screamed, more of rage than pain. The mortal’s words did not help, because they only reminded her of the words spoken by one more powerful, by one in white with the cross of a Quincy. "You're right. The one with the longest range wins." Cirucci's eyes widened as she felt the bone disconnect, begin to fall, and on instinct, her arm snapped out to catch it, momentarily frozen in the fear that ruled the life of they created from fear. "Seele Schneider is not a sword." Her brain caught fire at the very memory. Her energy exploded and she turned, metal pinions flying from the bone after the fleeing figures with a scream of wordless rage.
When Masaki was grabbed my Zaheela, pain shot through his body like electricity. Finally, after the long moments of pain and suffering, he went into shock from blood loss and passed out.
Eyes caught sight of the flying blades, but she only smirked as one by one, each blade found false targets. Trees took our one or two, but her shadows took care of the rest. Her blood was mingling with Masaki's own, and she could feel the aches and pains, but first she had to escape. The Mana in her legs gave her power to run, and she took advantage of that. Past trees, buildings, light posts, she 'flew' until she collapsed, panting in the gardens of Xanadu. Shakily, she took out her PDA and began to type, her vision getting blurry itself. “Don't die...” She murmured. She was too far from her apartment to change into a mage form, and it would be too dangerous to do it without the containment circle. She prayed that a medic would be nearby, and with a click, sent her distressed plea onto the network.
They were gone. ... Cirucci stared despondently after, her anger quelling as quickly as it had risen. ... Her wing... the Arrancar's eyes fell down to the bone in her hand, letting it drop to the ground with a thump. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily. ... Not again. This was... depressing. Stomping her foot in frustration the Privaron knelt to pick up the wing joint again, almost... caressing it. ... Now she would have to go track down Orihime. Damn it.
Rating; PG-13 for violence
Characters; Cirucci {
thunderwitch}, Masaki {needsmapquest}, and Zaheela {henkonasuisho}Summary; Cirucci, angry about the happeenings of today, goes to take her anger out on Masaki, who has been annoying her for some time. Zaheela takes it upon herself to intervene.
Log;
She had found him. Cirucci Thunderwitch had been looking for this human all day. Oh, but it was terribly inconvenient trying to track humans. Their reiatsu was so pitiful. A shame. But the sight of him excited her, knowing what she planned on doing. Abouve all the humans she had met, this one was most annoying, most idiotic, and most deserving of a proper stabbing. And with Golondrina unsealed once more... she planned to give it to him. It had been far too long since she'd killed to sate her hunger. The Privaron was crouched in the open window sill of the male's room, quick as a sonido, aiming to surprise. "Hello, precious~" She purred softly, eyes watching smoothly for any sign of movement that would be dangerous, not that she expected this bumbling fool capable.
Masaki was standing up at his dresser, fumbling around inside looking for his set of headphones. His lack of direction had sent him halfway around the temple in search of the device he needed to listen to music. Kuro and Shiro had gotten bored and left him a while back to do a checkup on the Cybuster. He had been running away from Zaheela all day so they hadn't had time to perform proper checks. Masaki scratched his head, frowning because scratching something while wearing gloves did nothing. So he bent down and looked in the next drawer, absentmindedly leaving the top drawer open. Then he heard Cirucci's voice at the window. In surprise, he jerked his head up, only to have it slam into the top drawer. From that, he slipped and dropped on the floor. He tilted his head back a little to put her in his vision. He let out a soft sigh. "Brazil-chan, what a surprise. Not."
Cirucci snickered. "Because of... hmm, what was it..." She slipped into the room, taking an apprising look about as she did so. Almost what she expected. "... the great lord of Wind should never be surprised by the sudden appearance of a lady in need at his window, yes?~" Her voice was all silk, cleverly concealing the metallic bite that drove the words from her lips.
Masaki rolled over and brought himself to his feet. He stepped over to Cirucci and stuck his forehead against hers. With his queer accent that he had from living with talking cats much of his life, he said, "You got a fever, Brazil-chan?"
Oh, but that just made this even better. He'd made the first contact, making her job so much easier. "You could say that." She answered slowly, voice growing huskier. It only required a slight tilt of her head to cover his mouth with her own for the briefest moment before nipping his lower lip. "Question is..." She murmured, "Do you?"
His eyes jumped open in surprise. Masaki pushed off of Cirucci, stumbling backwards. His hand went to his mouth and blood rushed to his face, turning it beet red. He turned his head to the side, looking at her at the edge of his vision, mumbling something softly.
Cute. Cirucci didn’t move, though her hip cocked to the side as she smiled coyly, reaching down to brush the edge of her short dress. "Speak up?~" She murmured, watching the human carefully. She’d figured him for a virgin, for all his talk, and he only proved her correct. Which made this almost… too easy. Now that was a shame. But it provided entertainment nonetheless.
Wiping his face furiously, Masaki spoke up. "I said I don't know nothing about that." He then viciously pointed at her and began to spout. "What was all that about anyways! You trying to kill a guy?! I thought you kept in your incest family!"
“Maybe the family bores me.” Cirucci smirked, slipping closer. Oh, but that was downright lie. In fact, she looked forward to meeting Il Forte after this. “Or maybe…” She placed her finger lightly against his mouth to attempt and shush his voice, which to her was only incessant human whining. “Or perhaps…” One hand snaked about his waist. “… you merely won me with your persistence.” This was disgusting.
Worry shot through him. He sucked at these kind of situations. Badly. He was going to give his best though. Masaki raised his hand an interposed it between their two faces. "Sorry Brazil-chan. As much as you may be tempted, I have 4 girlfriends. I'm flattered and all but uhhhhh..." His voice trailed off as he searched for words. He then picked back up. "I get beat up enough already by them. If they ever found out, I'd die! So, you win?"
“Poor boy…” Cirucci crooned. “They beat you so badly?” And it was easy for her, an Arrancar’s strength against a human’s, to neatly make a single movement to pin him against the wall, hip to hip. Quite easy, considering how flustered he was. Just a bit more and she could get to the fun part. “Not as badly as Cirucci can beat you… want to bet?” She muttered, one hand dropping to begin inching up his shirt and the other against the side of his face.
He put his hands on both of her arms, struggling to stop her. "N-n-n-n-no b-b-bets." He squirmed around trying to escape. It's not that he didn't like it, it's just that he wasn't used to it. These type of situations always made him feel awkward. He prayed to himself that she wouldn't take it any further.
"Okay~" The Arrancar nipped, seemingly eager, at the human's ear. "No bets." Her voice was becoming tinged with something else... an edge of danger. "Just this, hmm?" Her voice thrummed with it, the danger, the thrill. Because she knew any minute now... just one more push... her hand slid across his stomach under the fabric of his clothing, enjoying the squriming motions he made in attempts to escape her natural strength belied in her build.
It had to stop before it went too far. So Masaki braced his back against the wall and lifted up his feet, planting them on Cirucci's stomach. He pushed hard, trying to forcefully get her away before it got worse. "You know, rape is wrong," he said in between grunts of exertion.
Cirucci licked her lips, looking with bored eyes at his feet against her stomach, her own feet planted firmly. She did not speak for a moment, smirking. And then Golondrina released. The blast of spirit energy was more than she would usually release, but she let herself enjoy it after days of having the zanpakutou sealed. It was enough to bring almost any human, without high levels of spirit power, to their knees. But she didn't want that for this one, now. She thought it annoying she could not fully extend her wings in this room; but folded them pinioned on her back, the extended and taloned claws of her Hollow release snapping out to neatly, aiming to stab through the human's soft abdomen, directly between the ribs and under the chest. Mmm... blood...
The power had almost overwhelmed him. It caught him off guard, leaving him unprepared. Masaki knew nothing about spirit power and it's pressure but he did know the effect that powerful enemies had. When she changed, it left Masaki pissed off. First, he had been conned, obviously. Second, she was cheating! She was huge compared to him! Finally, he felt underestimated. After that thought, he mentally slapped himself knowing he had obviously wanted that. When the claw swung at him, it's aim at his heart, he dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. He ended up with his side being slashed, but it wasn't a horrible injury. When he drew himself to his feet, he snorted. "Hmph, don't get all high and mighty Brazil-chan. When it comes to speed, you're a slug in the snow. Next time, if you want to surprise me, do it when I'm not looking or at like 4 in the morning. Okay?"
It annoyed Cirucci that her enemy would be like herself, so coy and damnably angering in the midst of a fight. But no matter, they were empty words. She knew that. With the loud and painful scream of metal scraping against metal she extended her wings sharply, the furthermost pinions embedding in the walls of the room, effectively blocking the young man in a small area. The tail of her released form snapped at him, the mouth opening to reveal the salivating maw as it began gathering spirit energy within. “You talk well, for a human.” She laughed, a grating noise, and her talons were moving again, to impale, to stab, the mouth at tail’s end watching carefully for his dodge.
He jumped to the side again. But this time, no. No time to cast spells for more agility. That left him slower than normal. He caught a talon to the right of his stomach, sticking all the way through him. Sweat poured down from his face and he gritted his teeth in pain. He pulled himself off of it and dropped to one knee. Masaki started to experience tunnel vision but still plastered a smile across his face. "See, still too slow. Just give me a sec and I'll show you what for."
Cirucci's painted lips turned into a sadistic grin, her entire countenance changed at the sight of the blood on her talons. Zaera-polo had given her permission to kill this human, and she planned to do just that. She was terribly upset she had to cut this short. Her spirit energy would have already alerted the sensative, and she was sure the loud noises of her Hollow form weren't helping. A pout came to her face even as the tail viciously latched onto the male's legs, holding him still. The speed she did not address, taking a moment to lick the crimson liquid from a talon. "Masaki..." She crooned, even as her arm drew back. "... It's not rape unless you scream 'no'." And with that the sharp claws flew forward, aimed at his chest. They would not miss this time.
Zaheela had at first been aimlessly searching for her wayward student, her growling contained due to her wish not to reveal her location. Passing through the shadows, she leapt from tree to tree until she noted something was drastically wrong. The wards... as shabbily made as they were, were down. Also the distressing pressure made her uneasy. “Masaki, you moron.” She hissed under her breath as she once again darted forward, her form blurring again as she resumed her trek. Her ears twitched, she could hear two people talking. One was Masaki; the other was someone she disliked. She increased her speed and her eyes came upon the most distressing of sights. She didn't even say a thing, just reacted. Blades sprung from their sheaths and she slammed her shoulder into Masaki's side, not so gently shoving him out of the way. Talons sunk into flesh, but not of their intended. No, their new home was to say... Enraged. “Bitch...” She snarled, blades crossed against the base of the talons, halting their quest to sink through her side. “I TOLD you that if you harmed him, you'll be facing ME” She didn't feel like holding back any more. Mana swirled, released, and snarled. One difference between spirit energy and Mana... Mana was ALIVE. The loosely formed beast hissed as it curled around its channel. Screw her mana limiter; she'd take the bitch down if she had to.
Cirucci had to admit a surprise at finding her talons embedded not in the soft flesh of the human male, but in the warm tissue of the female thing. The Privaron had never cared to learn what she was, only called her by her appearance, kitty, or 'mortal'. This one vexed her too, but she had reasons for not moving against her. Zaera-Polo may have given her permission to kill the human idiot... but he had expressly forbidden her speaking, let alone harming his pet. ... This one. Which meant her boned talons, now slick with blood, may have had their death warrant signed by this stupid, foolish, mortal's intervention. ... And that made her angry. Her own spirit energy flared back against the intrusion of mana and her face immediately contorted into one of indignant rage as she held her talon still, unable to move it for fear of causing her own demise with this one's. If she died, as disgusting as it was, she knew Zaera-Polo may have her head. "Get out of the way." She snapped, with a crack of her tail that sounded like a whip, it released hold on Masaki to seemingly eye this new one warily even as the Arrancar's wings rescinded from the wall, metal on metal, preparing for flight, her fun interrupted.
Masaki began to choke and puked up a mouthful of blood. He was thankful for Zaheela saving him but annoyed was also a term that could apply. "What was that all about, Zah-oneechan?! I had her right where I wanted her!" He stumbled to his feet with his left hand reaching across his stomach, holding the gaping wound. He held out his right hand. A small blue ball formed as he weakly summoned his sword. It popped into his hand, holding the black sheath. "Sorry Brazil-chan, but since you are cheating, I'm gonna..." He stopped and fell over. Loss of blood made him to weak to stand anymore. He still fought to get up but to no avail.
It was then she saw the true extent of the wound, and her eyes flashed red, focusing on the bitch who had dared hurt her student. If it couldn't get any bigger in the eyes of her spectators, then they were in for a surprise. Her Mana flared once again, curling, swirling; she wanted BLOOD. He may have been an idiot, innocent, but he was still he precious student, her brother, and if the BITCH thought she was getting away unscathed, screw her. A piece of paper flicked into her hand and she murmured something, before flinging herself backwards and blurring. Now, Masaki had seen her as a white mage or a Bard, and while they were decent in a fight, they weren't ATTACK jobs. Ninja, however, focused on speed, and had teeth. She appeared behind Cirucci and threw something into the air before chanting “KATON:NI!” A Burst of fire bloomed to life and slammed itself into the other woman, her mana following close behind to slam the woman even further out of the room. The Bitch would not forget this day. Zaheela swore it, as she lunged forward herself, ignoring the bleeding wound she still sported.
"Be thankful the only thing keeping me from killing you is an Espada's order!" Cirucci snarled, feeling the bones on her back and head warm against the fire, but they did not melt or break. Her feathers singed. ... That only further angered her. The scream of metal accompanied her twirling movement to turn and face Zaheela, boned arms held defensively as she facilitated her own retreat from the room. As much as she hated the very idea of retreating, she valued her own life more, and any further injury to this woman would forfeit it at the hands of Zaera-Polo.
"Where do you think you are going?" Masaki had his sword out of his sheath and stabbed into the ground. He used it to shakily pull himself to his feet. "I still owe you a stab or two. If you leave now, I'll just have to get interest." He leaned heavily on the sword and took deep breaths, trying to keep himself from fainting. Deep down inside him, he was steeling his heart. Preparing for that last charge that always brought him to victory no matter what. It was tough but he thought he could pull himself through it.
Zaheela was growling, blood lust clouding her judgment. She could feel her rage simmering, but Masaki honestly did need help. If she turned her back now, who knew what could happen. She knew that these people were vengeful types, and that most likely she would be BACK to finish the Job. Masaki may have been powerful with his Mecha, but alone, he wasn't as nearly as skilled. She ignored the mentioning of an Order, storing it as 'he wants to kill me himself after he's done playing' and taking a step forward. She gripped her Fudo before flinging it at Cirucci's head, the blade streaking forward to at least cut her face, if not impale it.
The cut on her face was nothing. She'd had worse, seen worse, felt a blade-arrow pierce her chest, and she could handle this. And as hard as it was for the Privaron, and oh, it was hard to avoid anger. They were beasts of instinct, hunger, and rage, embed with logic. And that conflicted, at times. But logic told her she would feel an Espada's wrath if this continued, even though her instinct told her it would be all to easy to release the seal of her sword further, let a cero gather in the tail's mouth, and unleash it to blow them away. Masaki's words were nothing to her, the binging of a human whine, and Zaheela's anger only fueled her own she was forced to hold back. With a frustrated snap of her tail the Arrancar turned and pushed off the edge of the building, wings extending with the snap of metal and bone. She would be gone from this place.
"Goddammit!" Masaki was pissed but was halfway delirious from loss of blood and pain. "Get back here Shu, you bastard! I'll get you this time!" He attempted to stagger forward but fell over again. Once again, tears of rage poured from his eyes as the enemy managed to escape from him once again. He slammed his fist onto the floor, thinking that Cirucci was his pink haired rival, Shu, and that he had failed to catch him again.
Masaki wouldn't last much longer, but she had to impede the arrancar's movement somehow and distract her. “Sorry, but I'm not a Ranger and I don't use ranged attacks...” And with a flicking motion, the thrown Blade had removed itself from the tree it had embedded itself. The moment it had started to shake, she used her full speed, one that couldn't be seen by mortal eyes unused to such speeds and slid her held blade in between the metal plates of the left wing. Hand snapping upwards, she grabbed her falling blade and swung it downwards and the other blade upwards. The enchanted metal bit into bone and metal, slicing off half of the left wing before passing in an x mark in the air. Once the wing began to fall, she kicked off the remaining half and twisted into the air. Sheathing her blades as she landed, she continued at her high speeds away from the Arrancar. She winced as her side screamed at the harsh movements, blood staining her side, but continued running. Grabbing Masaki and hurling him over her shoulder, she took off at a speed which could almost pass off as Sonido, perhaps 1 or 2 notches below it, and fled with her student.
There was no feeling in the wings themselves. They were made of bone, of metal blades. But in between the bones, where marrow would be, raged spirit energy. And at the snapping of the joint, the blades digging into her very matter, energy, she screamed, more of rage than pain. The mortal’s words did not help, because they only reminded her of the words spoken by one more powerful, by one in white with the cross of a Quincy. "You're right. The one with the longest range wins." Cirucci's eyes widened as she felt the bone disconnect, begin to fall, and on instinct, her arm snapped out to catch it, momentarily frozen in the fear that ruled the life of they created from fear. "Seele Schneider is not a sword." Her brain caught fire at the very memory. Her energy exploded and she turned, metal pinions flying from the bone after the fleeing figures with a scream of wordless rage.
When Masaki was grabbed my Zaheela, pain shot through his body like electricity. Finally, after the long moments of pain and suffering, he went into shock from blood loss and passed out.
Eyes caught sight of the flying blades, but she only smirked as one by one, each blade found false targets. Trees took our one or two, but her shadows took care of the rest. Her blood was mingling with Masaki's own, and she could feel the aches and pains, but first she had to escape. The Mana in her legs gave her power to run, and she took advantage of that. Past trees, buildings, light posts, she 'flew' until she collapsed, panting in the gardens of Xanadu. Shakily, she took out her PDA and began to type, her vision getting blurry itself. “Don't die...” She murmured. She was too far from her apartment to change into a mage form, and it would be too dangerous to do it without the containment circle. She prayed that a medic would be nearby, and with a click, sent her distressed plea onto the network.
They were gone. ... Cirucci stared despondently after, her anger quelling as quickly as it had risen. ... Her wing... the Arrancar's eyes fell down to the bone in her hand, letting it drop to the ground with a thump. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily. ... Not again. This was... depressing. Stomping her foot in frustration the Privaron knelt to pick up the wing joint again, almost... caressing it. ... Now she would have to go track down Orihime. Damn it.