tampered | Log: Ongoing

Di Roy watched the prostrate form on the floor in disgust. Filthy freak. She was already bleeding, something Cirucci had seen fit to ensure before she left her in his 'care,' as she called it. Yeah, he'd take real good care of her, alright. Treat her real nice, thank her oh-so-kindly doing him the favour of removing his hand the last time they'd met. And what better way to start saying thanks than with a kick to the ribs?

A grin spread over the dieciseis' face as the toe of his boot met Rukia's side with a sickening crack. He all but cackled through his uneven teeth. "Get the fuck up, bitch," he urged the shinigami. "You don't get to lie down until your ass is dead."

She bit back the involuntary yelp of pain as his foot connected solidly with ribs she was rather certain were cracked. Gritting teeth, she rolled away from him to push herself unsteadily to her feet. Vision wavering, she stood on unsteady legs, glaring at him with a hand wrapped around her midsection.

"You.."

"Yeah, me. Surprise, surprise, huh?" He spat at a pool of blood close to where she stood. Did she know how hard that shit was to clean up? Cirucci bitched about it often enough that he knew. He vaguely wondered how long it would take to get rid of all of her blood, seeing as how he planned to spill every last drop.

"Had mercy on you last time, let you run off before I could beat your ass too bad. Don't wanna have too much fun all at one, y'know?" He circled her, sniggering softly in anticipation. "Think I'll end it here, though." Else the Thunderwith will kill me, too.

"Feh. Last I checked, you fucking ran, Arrancar. Like the coward you are. Can't even deal with me yourself, huh? Have to get the Privaron to do it for you?"

She warily watched him as he circled her. This was not going to end well. Rukia could tell that she was injured, at a disadvantage. Disoriented and without her zanpakutou. Not only that, but her reiatsu was still low from the days of training, which meant kidou was a limited option.

Fuck...

Di Roy stopped in front of her with a start, fists clenched. "I didn't run, bitch," he said, accenting the name with an aimed punch at her midsection, just below the arm across it. "Last I checked, you ain't got shit to protect you now." In an unusual fit of cockiness, brought about by his being armed, and her not, he grabbed Rukia by the throat, supporting her weight before she could double over in pain. "Might wanna watch what comes out of that mouth of yours."

The involuntary bend of her waist was prevented by his hand around her throat. Gasping for breath, she snarled at him, unwilling to simply give up and let him kill her. It wasn't like she didnt know that was his plan, but Kuchiki Rukia wasn't the sort to just give up.

Glaring at him, she spat in his face with a snarl.

"Oh really? I sure call that running when you turn tail and flee."

Di Roy paused, reached up and wiped her saliva from his cheek. Nasty ass bitch.

His temper flared, visible in the tightening of his grip on her neck and the twitch in his one visible eye.

"Oh?" He snapped, grip spasming tighter, tighter, loving the erratic pulse beneath his hand, heady on the feeling of dominance.

"What do you call this?" The Numeros easily threw the petite shinigami to the ground, snapping the back of her skull to the floor with an audible crack, crouching over her with a toothed grin.

"Cause I call that you getting your ass kicked around, ice bitch. Gonna call that punk of yours for help?" He picked her up roughly, threw her against the far wall haphazardly and began to draw his zanpakutou, reveling in the superiority of the moment.

"Maybe if you scream all girly-like he'll come for ya."

Her eyes widened, struggling for breath, one hand clawing at his fingers. Gasping as he released her, she tasted blood in her mouth as her head slammed into the floor, from a tongue that had unwisely found it's way between teeth as they clicked together. Before she had a chance to do anything, she found herself impacting the wall hard, the force of impact enough to elicit a grunt of pain.

Trembling slightly, she coughed, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, wiping away the blood from a split lip.

"Maybe... or maybe if you scream all girly-like then you might actually frighten me."

Di Roy snickered, jagged teeth in view as he ran his fingers along his blade's edge, testing it against his hierro.

Not a nick against the iron skin.

"Seeing as I'm the one with the sword." He drawled, approaching the fallen shinigami, moving with the confidance of one in control, idly swinging his blade and eyeing her with a leer. Maybe he'd have other sorts of fun with her later. Maybe.

"And you aren't-" Di Roy smiled. And it was in the space of that smile that he moved into a sondio, his blade a whir and small sound of slicing flesh, bone, tendons, before he stepped back, a spatter of blood over the white of his bone mask.

"I get to say who's frightened." In his hand he clutched a thin, black sleeved arm, hanging limp. That was for freezing his ass.

A burning pain, followed by an eerie aching numbness as she stared wide-eyed at the arm clutched in his hand. Her other hand reached up shakily, almost robotically, feeling the sticky wetness that was rapidly soaking the side of her robes. As she pulled the palm back blood-slicked, the pain hit and she doubled over, hand clenched to the bloody shoulder, unable to hold back the cry of pain as body finally registered the severing of the limb.

Shaking with the intensity of the pain, she glared up at him through touseled black hair, refusing to show him any fear, focusing her anger on him.

"No....you...don't get....to."

"Heh." Brave front.

The numeros sniffed lightly at the limb in his hand, so thin, goddamn, weak seeming. It was discarded to the side without another thought.

"Arm for a hand seems alright." He snorted, running his fingers along the blade and whetting them in blood, licking languidly. Such a nice taste, revenge.

The blade flickered again, stabbed into her already bloody shoulder before finding itself pressed hard against her neck, one mere moment before he kicked her in the face, blade finding her neck again.

"Wonder what I get for a life."

Rukia tried to bite back the scream as the steel bit into her injured shoulder, sucking in a ragged breath as she felt the cold blade graze her neck.

A moment later, she was on the floor, spitting up blood and a few teeth, nose slightly crooked. She could tell that one eye would be black later, but that wasn't the formost thing on her mind. The blade that once again pressed itself to her throat, leaving a thin line of crimson was.

Di Roy snicked again, pressing his blade harder into her neck, pinning her to the floor with a foot and pushing steadily on her abdomen and broken ribs.

"Scream." He snarled, the blade tip thunking lightly against the floor beneath her.

"I'll make it less painful if you scream, little girl."

Biting down hard on her tongue, ignoring the coppery tang of blood in the back of her throat, she refused to let him have what he wanted.

"N..no. I won't give you the satisfaction."

Di Roy shrugged.

"Fine then." He raised the sword, smiled, and brought it back down, a killing blow aimed at her vulnerable and exposed throat.

"I'll just take what's mine."

Ichigo didn't waste a single moment. Unlike before, when he was still scrambling to find out where Rukia was, where the hell she was, he knew exactly where to go. Now that he had some direction -- from Ishida, somehow -- it wasn't hard pinpointing her reiatsu. Her. He followed that trail far more than he did the map in his mind -- otherwise, he'd get himself lost, and that was the last thing he needed.

Room 67. Ichigo didn't hesitate in kicking the door down. He had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn't to worry about offending the occupants. Zangetsu already unsheathed, his reiatsu rolling off him in raging waves, he stepped into the room, eyes narrowed at the scene before him.

Rukia! He didn't realize that he'd said her name out loud -- shouted it, really. But it didn't matter, because she wasn't dead, and he wasn't too late, and that bastard was still here, and he wasn't going to screw it up this time.

His brow set in a hard line. "Bankai."

Kensei had been following Ichigo ever since Alfons had patched up his wounds and let him go. Now that he had no zanpakutou, Kensei's ability to rescue anyone was limited. He was certainly no match for any of the arrancar, even the weaker ones, without it. So he had resigned himself to making sure Ichigo didn't do anything too stupid like get himself killed while trying to rescue Rukia. It was a big job, but Kensei thought someone needed to look after the hero.

The vaizard hadn't exactly made his presence a secret to Ichigo, but the youth wasn't exactly paying attention to much other than finding Rukia at the moment. He could tell though the instant Ichigo knew where Rukia was, all of a sudden the guy moved like an unstoppable force of nature through the city. It was all Kensei could do to keep up.

The door to the room didn't ever stand a chance as the shinigami burst in, his reiatsu at a frightening level.

Must be nice not to need a plan, Kensei thought. That's going to get you killed one day. Now was not the time for lessons though. Now was the time to make sure Ichigo didn't get out of control.

Orihime stood back, outside the door that Ichigo had just kicked down. She knew her friend was in there, and she knew she needed to help. Fear gripped her, as she felt at a loss of what to do. She knew she could fight with the Shun Shun Rikka...but..she would most likely be a hindrance. She knew what she had to do...support if any were injured. It was what she knew she could do, and do without fail.

She thought to how she got to this point. She hadn't even known Rukia had been in danger...when they had gone on the picnic just a few days earlier, everything was fine. But, on chance, when she'd gone outside today, she had learned something quite contrary. Ichigo had been running down the street at a very fast clip, and by luck, she'd been able to stop him, and learn what had been going on. And even though he'd told her not to, she'd followed anyway.

And now, she was here. She'd observed Ichigo slamming the door in, and rushing to whatever was inside.

And she'd clean up afterward. Like always.

"Oh, fu-"

Di Roy turned and his one visible eye widened, the black of the substitute shnigami's bankai reflected in the glassy shock. Inner thoughts? Oh fuck, shit, fuck, shit, FUCK, SHIT, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. How had they? So soon? How-

He had moments, moments to react, taut muscles freezing for a second, half a second, before he turned back to the unseated sprawled at his feet, a snarl of rage and desperation ripped from his throat as he swung the blade down at her throat rather than try and dodge away just yet, determined to end her life now.

Gaze hazy from pain and blood-loss, she raised her head slightly from the ground, violet eyes straining to focus. Not that it took much focus to figure out who it was at the door. Blurry orange on top of blurry black was more distinctive than it might otherwise have been.

The angry press of reiatsu certainly didn't hurt, unmistakably his and unmistakably unleashed and furious. A faint smile curved the corners of her mouth, unable to hide the relief at seeing him. As much as she might have said otherwise, she'd known he would come, counted on him to come. Like he always did. Now whether she would actually admit to that... well, that was another matter entirely.

"I...Ichigo...."

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the silvery flash of metal as the blade swung down towards her throat. At least death wasn't permanent here, or so she tried to remind herself, as Rukia knew she couldnt evade it. She was too weak, had lost too much blood.

Sorry....

Ichigo was too close. Too close to let it end here. He'd gotten farther than last time, had been given a greater chance, and he wouldn't fumble. Desperation welled deep in his stomach as the arrancar's arching blade glinted almost ominously in the faint light, painstakingly slow to his senses, and Ichigo shoved it down hard, and without thinking -- when had he ever thought, in situations like these? All he had was instinct, and this time, it was telling him to move, to stop that sword before it struck home.

He just barely heard Rukia whisper his name.

Ichigo was across the room and between Rukia and the arrancar in a heartbeat, his feet seeming to move of their own volition. Quickly, with a calm sort of anger he only took up in battle, his sneer the only outward sign of the real extent of his rage, he brought his sword down on the arrancar's swinging arm, slicing neatly through it.

Kensei knew how fast Ichigo could move and he could still barely follow it. One minute the arrancar was trying to kill Rukia and the next Ichigo was between the two of them, severing his opponents arm.

For a moment Kensei was tempted to take the arm. He could feel this arrancar was relatively weak in power compared to the others, but if he could offer to give it back in exchange for his own weapon? No, he wouldn't do that as tempting as it was. This particular pawn of Aizen had done nothing to him person, he didn't warrant Kensei's revenge.

Besides, they didn't have time for that, even Kensei could see that Rukia was dying. If she didn't get healing soon, she was going to die. Kensei supposed it was a very good thing that Ichigo's friend had followed them.

There was a delay as the Numeros realized he was possessing a bloody stump. One that didn't have a zanpakutou and didn't have... anything. The elbow and below were gone... where'd they go? The pain even took a long while to register, brain dulled by shock before he recoiled, clutching the stump and letting out a wrenched screech of a scream, laced with rage and pain, blood splattering back across the mask on his head, one eye wide and dilated with pain and senses.

And, on instinct, the Numeros turned and fled from the powerful opponant, a coward when need be, fled towards the window into a sonido, hissing in agony and clutching the bleeding limb, fully prepared to hurtle out the window past the others present, a cero gathering behind the cloth on his face.

Hirako figured something like this would happen. Following Ichigo's reiatsu in his search for Rukia hadn't been hard once he'd gone out into the open. But Hirako had wanted to be a voyeur-- choosing to watch the show from a far without getting his hands dirty. Looks like that would have to wait, afterall.

Jumping down from the ledge he'd perched on outside the window, he blocked the fleeing arrancar's exit, bringing his zanpakutou directly to Di Roy's chest, even as his other hand held his mask to his face. Hirako could sense the incoming cero blast even as it built in strength.

"Leavin' so soon?? Things were just gettin' good!"

Lying on her back, sticky wetness of blood oozing from cuts on her forehead where it had impacted the wall, Rukia didn't have the energy to even lift her head, though dark eyes stared up at Ichigo as the black blade of Zangetsu sliced easily through her attacker's arm.

It was....cold in here. And heavy. Well... the air seemed heavy. Made it hard to breathe. Her shoulder didn't really even hurt anymore, though the throbbing in the mangled remains of her limb was fading away to a strange numbness. She could still hear the pulsing beat of her heart, the slow trail of crimson fluid as it slipped in sanguine drops to join the growing puddle of red beneath her. Oh maybe that was why she couldn't seem to move. Too slippery.

Coughing slightly, she gagged on the blood in the back of her throat, likely from a punctured lung. Idiot. She wasn't going to thank him -- not that she didn't want to -- any more then she would have expected thanks from him. Besides death was fleeting in this place.

At least I get to see him before I die...

Another cough, thin crimson trail sliding from the corner of her mouth as she attempted a smile at him. It would be just like him to burst in here like this, making so much of a fuss over her again. Saving her again. She hated it when he did that. But she also loved it when he did that. A ragged breath and she tried to raise her head again, squinting through swollen lids and split lip.

"I..I..Idiot......"

Ichigo watched with a sort of sick stillness as bone separated from body, blood blossoming from the arrancar's stump of an arm. An arm for an arm -- he hadn't even planned that. The scent was unmistakable, though, cloying and thick, but different -- because it was an arrancar, maybe -- in that it was oppressive, almost. Ichigo was used to the smell of fresh blood, but this made his stomach lurch, and his expression twisted into that of unveiled disgust in the aftermath, for all his leashed precision in the execution.

He had only a second to spare for disgust, however, barely registering the arrancar turning tail and fleeing. Ichigo hadn't even noticed he was being followed, either, too intent on his goal. The one he'd failed the very moment before he showed up here. The one he made it his job never to fail again.

Sneer quickly metamorphing into a concerned frown, Ichigo knelt down next to Rukia, Zangetsu singing as it connected clumsily with the floor. Ichigo was beyond that already, taking her nearly limp head in his hands, fingers swallowing her hair. Brows furrowing, he wiped the blood from her cheeks with a gentleness he had no idea he possessed, even though it was useless; she had blood all over.

"You're the idiot," he said in a voice that undermined the words. Why was she acting like she was dying? Something thick stopped in his throat.

She needed help. Now.

"Inoue." He repeated it louder, almost frantically: "Inoue!"

One remaining hand made it's way shakily up to reach for his, eyelids fluttering as they seemed to get heavier. And...she couldn't see him as well. Coughing up more blood, she whimpered slightly as the simple act caused a wave of pain to blossom along her ribcage.

Breathing seemed so hard, every rise of her chest feeling as though it took more effort then the last. Struggling for air, forcing lungs to function, she managed a weak smile.

"Kn...knew you'd....come. You.....a...always......come.....Glad it.....it's you. W...wouldn't......want to......die......w....with...without..."

Inoue's head shot up at this. She was needed..and needed now. She nodded, all other thoughts being pushed to the back of her head. The hazy thoughts about Kuchiki-san...and Kurosaki-kun... No. Turning her focus straightforward, she ran into the room, and abruptly was taken aback.

"Kuchiki-san!!" Her legs began to move, even before her brain could even fathom the synapses needed. Immediately, she was kneeling beside her, arms outstretched, and palms flat above Rukia's prone body. "..d-don't worry. I'm here. I can help you..you'll be fine."

Closing her eyes, she called upon the power that she knew she had, to heal what had been done. "Shun'ou...Ayame..." The two small beings appeared, and positioned themselves around Rukia. "Soten Kisshun....I reject!"

The magic began to heal Rukia, all that had been done melting away as if it had never come to pass.

A pang of longing struck Orihime's heart, as she healed, her mind, unbidden, painted a picture of what she had seen before...a collage of the happenings of the City before she returned to Karakura Town, culminated with the image of Ichigo's reaction over Rukia now. She shook her head, trying to take the memories from herself, and focus completely on what she was doing.

Kuchiki-san is my friend...and she makes Kurosaki-kun happy... that's all that matters. And I will be here for them...always...

Dull violet eyes flickered up to the other hazy shape in her field of vision, that of the walnut-haired girl leaning over her, palms outstretched, face etched with something -- worry? -- she wasn't sure. Well, she knew it but...the name wasn't coming. Like a lot of other things, it seemed just out of her grasp.

But oh...that light was warm. And glowed with a yellow-orange hue. Like Ichigo's hair, her blood-starved mind quipped, it's train of thought fragmenting as unconsciousness clawed at the edges of her vision. Sleep...

No.....can't sleep....

She frowned slightly, struggling against the heavy weights that had somehow managed to attach themselves to eyelids long-since bruised from recurrent bouts of insomnia, focusing her wavering vision on the other girl.

"I...Inoue...."

It didn't matter to him that the whatever-the-hell-it-was was reaching for a mask, whatever it was doing, Di Roy didn't care. He had to get away, get away, past the window, past the Vaizard-

His remaining hand reached up and ripped the bloody teal fabric from mask and face, exposing an empty eye glowing pale with the cero charging, releasing it with as much power as the 16th could muster in his manic state, preparing to rush past the enemy he's been confronted with and continue out the window uninterrupted. The blast of blanch white heat searing from him, a sonido kicking him along with it.

Ichigo didn't spare a glance towards Inoue as she ran over to help, his gaze trained on Rukia, his hand instinctively finding hers when she reached for him.

"Idiot," he repeated, voice soft, leaning over Rukia. "Shut up."

The golden veil of Inoue's power shimmered to life before his eyes, and he automatically pulled his hands away, giving her fingers one last squeeze before moving out of the way. This wasn't his part; he had nothing to do for Rukia now, turning her over, however unconsciously, into Inoue's capable hands.

How had this happened? He hadn't even known Rukia ran off that morning, let alone get kidnapped. It was the sudden absence of her reiatsu that finally clued him in, then the subsequent information pouring in over the system that led to him finding her.

It happened so fast, and yet, sitting here next to her now, his eyes never leaving hers, everything felt so slow. He hadn't gotten here in time. She'd almost died. Almost.

Ichigo frowned, then the lines of his brow smoothed out, and he was left with simply hoping she would be alright in the end.

A faint whimper and an automatic clutching of fingers as the comforting feel of his hand slipped from her grasp. It was still getting harder to stay awake, harder to hide the slight note of fear that was creeping into her mind, the bare edge of frantic attempt to outrun sleep. But it was useless right now. Her body was too battered, mind stretched too thin and haggard from pain and abuse, and sleep was the stronger adversary.

With a little soft sigh, injured form relaxed, going limp as eyelids slid closed and Rukia slipped into the blessfully-dreamless void of unconsciousness while her body mended itself by way of the shimmering light that suffused it.

Feeling the energy gather behind his hand, Shinji wasted no time in releasing a cero of his own, deflecting the arrancar's blast in a move that paid homage to the last one he'd fought against.

The result was all cinder and smoke, a brief explosion that reverberated throughout the room. Shinji leapt back to bear the brunt of the impact, sword held tightly in anticipation of his enemy's next move.

Fuckin' Bastard. Should have took 'im straight away..

Glass shards rained down like glittering snowflakes from the damaged window above Shinji's head. He felt a few knick him here and there, blood droplets smooth on his skin. It was no big deal compared to Kuchiki.

Log: Ongoing

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