tampered | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

Log; Ongoing

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject