tampered | Log; Ongoing

Log; Ongoing

When; April 29th, Mid afternoon to early evening
Rating; PG-13+, for violence, blood, etc.
Characters; Kiyone {

better_third}, Rori {

sister_servant}, and Di Roy {

tiburonoculto}
Summary; Two arrancar, spurred by boredom, decide to pay a little social visit to a solitary shinigami, complete with a pretty, black present.
Log;

Kiyone tried to convince herself that living alone wasn't so bad.

She figured she'd have to get used to it, anyways. Isane wasn't exactly jumping at the chance to come home, and they didn't live with anyone else.

And it was alright, so far. Living alone meant one less person to clean up after, one less person to share a bathroom with, and Kiyone's favourite: one less person to cook for. And as she sat down at a table meant for two, she told herself that this was a life she could get used to. It was her life, afterall, as Isane kept reminding her, might as well deal with it.

She shifted the dinner plate before her and kicked her legs up beneath the table, resting them in the seat usually reserved for her sister. "Bon apetit!" she said to no one.

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Kiyone paused, utensil halfway between the plate and her mouth. She hadn't been expecting anyone, at least, not that she could recall. Her sister wouldn't knock, and Masaki always asked before he came over, just to insure Isane wasn't there. So who could it be?

She let her feet drop to the floor and pushed back from the table. Maybe it was someone looking for another apartment who had gotten their numbers mixed up. Maybe it was the dozen other scenarios running through her head.

But of every prospective person she imagined on the other side of the door, never did Kiyone think she'd open it to see two arrancar staring back at her.

Rori pushed into the open door, her slim fingers aiming straight for the neck of the shinigami that had answered it. "How nice to see you, sweetie. Sorry to barge in so unexpectedly, but we just had to bring you this present!"

She shook her other hand, making sure that the dark ribbon dangled enough for their victim to see it clearly.

"Now be a dear and help me tie it around your neck before we kill you. I promise to make it quick and painful."

A black ribbon and two arrancar at her door? It really wasn't that hard to put two and two together, even for Kiyone. She had been chosen as the sacrifice for their world, and those two were there to carry it out.

Kiyone could feel the icy fingers graze her throat as she stubmled backward into the apartment. A hand moved to her side, reaching for the zanpakutou that Isane had bade her several times to always keep close by. But of course, because her sister wasn't there, neither was the blade, and her searching fingers closed only on air.

Damnit. She knew where it was. Leaning on the couch, somewhere behind her. Going after it meant turning her back on the pair, and that was something Kiyone was most hesitant to do. But it was either that, or face them unarmed, and as she turned to go for her blade, she wished she had listened to her sister a little more.

Di Roy followed Rori in and closed the door behind them. No need to let the little freak alert the others with her screams. They'd be sure to hear about it anyways, soon as they dropped her body off the deities' office. They didn't need to know any sooner than that.

He watched Rori lunge at the third seat, seeing the latter slip through the former's fingers. "Slippery little bitch," he called out over them, chuckling as Kiyone turned around. What the hell kinda shinigami was she, turning her back on two well-armed arrancar. Well, whatever she was now, she was soon to be the dead kind, the only type of freak he could tolerate.

With a growl, Rori snapped her hand out, tring to catch their fleeing prey before she could find a way to get to a weapon or alert the other shinigami. She missed grabbing her by mere inches, so she pooled her energy into a quick burst of sonido and zipped to block the escape.

Finally in reach, she reached and snagged the bright hair ont he shinigami's head and gave it a good yank, bringing her closer. "How rude you are... not offering a snack to guests," was hissed into her ear just before Rori drove a fist into her stomach.

"I think you need to learn some manners."

She had felt it, the hardness of her blade's hilt, fleeting beneath her fingers. Almost, almost. But almost wouldn't save her.

She started to cry out in pain - her head, oh, how it hurt - but the noise was stifled by the blow to her stomach. She coughed and tasted metal. Blood.

A retort attempted to choke its way out, something about how she only gave invited guests such courtesies, but all the air had been knocked out of her, and Kiyone could only wheeze.

Hand still tangled in her hair, Rori pulled her away from where they were standing. She hadn't missed the fingers scrabbling for the weapon and knew she needed to keep her as far away from there as possible. With a vicious shove, she threw her as far as she could across the room, then was on top of her after another burst of sonido. Her own zanpakutou lay waiting against her hip; always ready to draw blood.

When she settled on top of the shinigami, her grin was feral and dark.

"Poor little reaper. Killed so many Hollows, didn't you? You should've killed me and my sister first. Your mistake." A slap across the face, then there was the harsh rasp of metal sliding free.

"Should I give you a chance to run again? Make it more sporting?"

Kiyone had just regained her stolen breath when she felt Rori settle on her chest. She didn't want to run, didn't even think she could. Her face stung and her lungs burned with the lack of air.

"Just... get off of me, please," she gasped. Kiyone couldn't believe she was pleading with an arrancar. She knew it would do no good. She knew the heartless show no mercy, but she had to try, had to at least try.

Raven hair shifted as she tilted her head to one side, then the other. Finally, still smiling, she rolled off of the shinigami and stood up, looking down at her. "Oh, she does know some manners after all! Do they teach that in the Court of Pure Souls?" The short sword glimmered in her hand as she idly tapped it against her calf.

"I'll give you a chance, little reaper. You better be quicker than I am..."

Kiyone knew not to take the time to gape at the arrancar standing abouve her. She wasn't sure if Rori really meant to give her time to run, or if it was some sick trick. But Kiyone was banking on the first option as she rolled over on her hands and knees, faltering once or twice before she made it to her feet.

There was nowhere to really run in an apartment, leaving the third seat with two options: go for the door, or her sword. The first was almost completely out of the picture. The other arrancar stood in her path, and even if she could get away from Rori, she'd still be facing another arrancar unarmed.

So she again dove for her zanpakutou. She just had to be a little quicker...

Rori watched and waited, still tapping the unholy steel against her leg. She bided her time, chuckling as she noticed the jerky movements of her prey. She allowed her enough time to barely reach her zanpakutou before she rounded on her, yanking her back by her hair again. This time, she didn't stop the motion until she had her quarry pinned against the wall.

Leaning close, she peered up into the face of the shinigami, grinning madly at the look on her face. "A third seat, bested by a Numero. What would your captain say?" Before she could answer, her slim blade slid just barely into the skin of her stomach, pausing so that the blood could start to run freely.

Rori glanced down at the dripping red, then shoved her forearm against the shinigami's throat to hold her still. Slowly, carefully, she slid the blade deeper, eyes locked on the blood. When the steel sunk into the wall behind her, Rori looked up at her prey, then moved her arm so she could pull out the ribbon.

Without a word, she tied the dark material around the shinigami's throat, then leaned even closer to check her work.

"Red and black... so pretty together, isn't it?"

She had it; it was in her hands. Yes, she could do this, she could fight back. Kiyone felt as if the tables had turned in her favour, just a little bit, just enough...

But all hope was dispelled as the felt the arrancar's blade pierce her abdomen. How had she not seen that coming? The free chance to get up, to run away. Of course.

And what would taichou say? To see her like this, held fast to the wall by the blade of an enemy. A third seat, so well-trained, bested by a Numeros.

She had to admit, though, it really would have been a pretty ribbon, out of context, but why did she have to tie it so tightly. Kiyone felt it was hard enough to gasp for air around all the blood in her throat, but to have to fight the vice around her neck... It was getting to be too much, too hard.

With a soft laugh, Rori smeared her fingers through the blood starting to slip out of the corner of the shinigami's mouth, then lifted them to her own lips to taste. Another laugh; louder this time, sounded as she swiped the remnants across her victim's cheek.

"You taste good, little reaper. I'll be sure to tell sister dear how sweet you were..."

With a quick flick of her wrist, the blade was jerked to the side, cutting even more into the flesh of the shinigami before she pulled it free.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kiyone knew that the blood that was warm on her cheek should have been flowing through her veins, but there was nothing she could do to put it back.

She hit the ground with a thump and a sickening squelch as she landed in a pool of blood that had gathered beneath her while she'd been pinned to the wall. She tried weakly to raise her head, clearing the crimson liquid from her mouth with a cough and a retch. It hurt, oh it hurt so much. Her midsection was on fire, and Kitone swore she could still feel the steel tearing into her. She just wanted it to end.

A kick was aimed at the prone figure on the floor, then another. As much as she enjoyed winning, the shinigami hadn't put up much of a fight. Was it too much to ask that she at least struggle a little? Still, there was a smile on her face as she crouched down beside the shinigami.

Rori slid a gentle hand up her prey's back, not stopping until it was resting on the back of her neck. Surely enough, the flesh was beginning to cool and Rori knew that time was short for fun. Her fingers wove into the hair she'd been tugging all night, but her touch was soothing this time.

"Poor little third. You never should've tried to run. It would've been so much easier on you. One quick slice and I would've ended it for you." With a soft chuckle, she leaned even closer, bending low to look into the shinigami's face. She wanted to see the light go out in her eyes as she died.

"I wonder if you'll see him when you go."

Kiyone simply lay there, taking each blow. What point was there in trying to fight back when she was already at the wrong end of a losing battle? Had the arrancar not stabbed her so badly, she might have tried to return what she was being given, but the odds were anything but in her favour. Two against one? She didn't expect the arrancar to play fair, but this was low.

As Rori's face loomed in her vision, she closed her eyes. Kiyone knew if she didn't get a healer quickly, she was going to die. But she would be damned if the last thing she'd see was that hateful face.

And what was that she'd said? See... who?

Even so close to death, the shinigami was spiting her. With a frown, she shoved her head to the ground and dropped a booted foot on it. "Fine then, you little bitch. Take my fun away." Still frowning, she turned to Di Roy and tilted her head. "Maybe I should've cut her head off..."

The sixteenth stepped forward from where he had been leaning against the wall, watching. No need to have gotten involved. The little freak never stood a chance, and his stepping in would have just been overkill. "Maybe next time. I'm not carryin' two fuckin' shinigami pieces to the deities. Now get the fuck off her," he said, waving Rori aside. "I'm ready to get this shit over with. Fuckin' sacrifices..."

Rori aimed a nasty look at him, but did as she was told. Time had made her used to defering to the others; she knew her place well enough. Instead of commenting, she tore her gaze away from him and looked down at her uniform.

"Mmm... I think the red is better. Don't you?"

Di Roy nudged the limp shinigami with his foot. No reaction. Good. This had taken longer than he had though it would, and he was ready to get the hell out of the freak's apartment, dump her body, and go.

He bent down and grabbed one of her arms, pulling her up off the ground and over his shoulder. She was small, but damn, she could have been a little lighter. He nodded his head toward the entrance. "Open the fuckin' door. Let's go.

With a put upon grumble, she stalked by him and yanked the door open, waiting until he passed through it before she aimed a sharp poke at his side. "Shut up. You didn't do most of the work here. You know where the office thing is, right?"

"Work?" Di Roy sneered. "What fuckin' work? You shouldn't have even broken a sweat dealing with this freak." He shifted the dead weight on his shoulder. "'Course I know where the hell it is. Hope your ass can keep up."

"Fuck you. I can keep up with your lazy ass." No matter how flustered she'd been with his tampered affections, she still didn't like to be spoken down to. Without a word, she took off towards the deities office.

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Log; Ongoing

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