tampered | Log; Complete

When; July 5th, afternoon
Rating; G
Characters; Nemu {

eyezen_sama}
Summary; When Nemu has a few hours away from her creator, she does not often recieve visitors, however, she sometimes does.
Log;

Stepping from his doorstep, Ulquiorra sighed softly, allowing himself a moment to take in the outside environment and let the previous events settle to the back of his mind. A war? Foolish, wasteful, and entirely uncalled for. He did not forget his purpose--to destroy the Shinigami--but one here would only mean less would be returning to the real world to serve Aizen-sama. And this nonsense about the non-espada who claimed superiority. Utterly banal and unforgivable. It was enough to give him a headache.

Which is why he needed a break from concerning himself with it. And he did not know anyone else who would have a rein on their mouths and a brain in their heads. Simply he was desirable of civilized conversation.

>>>

She had a few hours to herself.

A few hours to not hear screaming, to see a lab subject, (she had to think of him as a lab subject, or her mind began to fracture into indecision), running and running from mental and physical pains. a few hours where Mayuri-sama had dismissed her to her own activities, to where he had commanded her to resume the normal facade she had developed in his absence.

And she wanted to see him. Knew it was foolish, but she wanted to despite, sitting quietly, calmly, within her apartment. Waiting.

>>>

Letting his feet guide him, it was not long until Ulquiorra appeared at the familiar apartment landing. His reitsu was sheltered, though she might recognize him by sound. Rumors and whispers of his own ranks about 'going soft' wore on his nerves and he wanted no knowledge of his whereabouts to reach them. He was not going soft. But if they were supposed to be his intelligent comrades, then he did not understand how anyone could blame him from going elsewhere.

Knocking once before he opened the door to step inside, Ulquiorra let his eyes rake around the room once before settling upon her.

>>>

He was one of the few people who, with some degree of regularity, came to visit her. Perhaps it was because she was quiet, overly logical, or somewhat unsettling to some, but she rarely had visitors, or expressed a desire for them. By all appearences she was fine, though there was a healing bruise on one leg and peeking from the collar or of her uniform,

"Ulquiorra." She smiled lightly, just a small expression to acknowledge, sitting on the couch in her usual position, back straight, shoulders back, ankles crossed, and hands folded neatly in her lap.

"You look well." It was a polite pleasantry, but not without concern or notice.

>>>

"As are you." She indeed looked less injured than the time before. No longer stiff from pain, nor forcing herself through the motions despite various broken bones and sprains. Not that he cared--it was merely an observation.

"You are no longer making him angry?" A simple question, though he knew it was perhaps a sensitive one.

>>>

"..." Her mouth dropped a thin line, a brief whitening of her knuckles the only indication that the question made her upset. This was her upset, calm, sad, eyes, a stoic look, and a momentary slip of the hand.

"He has acclimated more to this City, and has advanced past his initial anger spurring from my prior activities here." The shinigami answered, carefully skirting the very possibility that he couldn't ever be happy with her, knowing in her head that he never would be, but if she accepted it, she would have nothing to live for.

"... Aizen Sousuke, gone, has him wondering."

>>>

It was his turn to frown, clasping his hands behind his back in a moment of weakness. "Aizen-sama. Yes, gone.."

Abandoned them. Left? He had chosen not to think that way, to only think forward of the future and how to deal with his insubordinate fools he once called comrades. But there was still the slight sting, buried deep down, that perhaps Aizen had created them, played with them, and tossed them aside when he had his chance to move on. But of course, he did not think this way. Did not feel in anyway emotionally moved by it all. All he needed to do was handle the other Arrancar before things got out of hand.

"It has caused quite a stir."

Eyeing the seat for a moment, he decided against it and chose to walk slowly about the room, examining its contents. He knew it all very well, but looking over and seeing the changes put his mind at ease. This, at least, was something constant.

"It is a matter of who they listen to. Grimmjow will most certainly do something foolish, but he is known for rash behavior and hasn't any leadership capabilities. Cirucci will eventually follow the strongest. That other one, however.. I do not know enough about."

>>>

"Alturo Plateado." Nemu answered, hands folded, slowly relaxing as he paced about her quarters. She'd come back earlier, straightened things from where they'd been torn apart by her master, books falling when she was thrown against the shelf, the sound of someting breaking when he snarled and tossed a slap.

"From what I hear on the network, he was equal in power to Aizen Sousuke." This was something comforting to her, this conversation, intellectual, personal and yet impersonal. "A rival to his power is dangerous, politically and physically." It was almost comforting enough to let her put from mind the fact that Cal Thompson was resting on IVs and fluids to keep him alive.

>>>

Ulquiorra frowned again, feeling for the first time in a while a threat. One that he did not quite know how to deal with, at that. "He is entirely outdated. He has no idea of the situation between the Shinigami and Aizen-sama. He is merely a troublemaker, prattling off about nonsense."

But while that may have been true, he still said things that were quite dangerous, and he knew that the other Arrancar had been listening. Perhaps too closely. "He denies our existence by denying our allegiance. Yet those fools cannot see it for what it is."

>>>

"Perhaps it is a momentary disobedience, one that will pass. A... phase, if you will." It was her nature, to speak as if she cared for the outcome, cared for Arrancar, but in actuality she could speak on any subject in that manner.

"Or, perhaps, they will move too rashly, and come up against some of the citizens here who are stronger." Nemu watched him, dark eyes following softly. "There are many possibilities."

>>>

"Perhaps. I would prefer it if they did not go about destroying themselves, but they are not entirely necessary. Aizen-sama can always make more." A thought that was not entirely comforting.

"They seem to forget that this is not their home. That they have a place to return to. They are only concerned with the moment. A failing in their creation." But he would be lying if the thought of being stuck here forever had not crossed his mind. It had been... such a long time since he first came. Why had he not been able to leave?

"Exactly. They do not use their minds and merely jump about with foolish excitement over the idea of bloodshed. I will leave them all behind if I have to, but they do have their uses and I would prefer not to."

He sighed again, moving into the small kitchen if only for a change of scene. "Are you eager to leave?"

>>>

"... to leave here?" She watched him exit the room, followed his movements by the sound of his feet, neck not moving, head not turning to face his direction, looking straight in front of her with softened eyes.

"I would like to return to Soul Society." Nemu murmured, barely audible at the distance. "But, at the same time, I can survive here. Mayuri-sama is here, and I should wish to be here with him." Should. Not would.

>>>

Returning to the front room, he wondered about the room again, watching her carefully. She always spoke properly, but he could tell when she was hiding something. Or suppressing something. Her time here had changed her. Had it changed him as well?

"I should think so. It is.. not natural, being here. We should have never came..."

>>>

"... None of us should ever have come." She finally turned her head to face him, smiling softly, patting the space beside her lightly. The shinigami always tried to let him pace a while, walk, stretch, before she asked him to sit, not liking, but never would admit to, having to follow him as they spoke, used to standing still, sitting still, when she did so.

"But, so we have." Her eyes closed to forget images of someone she held dear under her father's hands. "... Do you think it has done anything positive, coming here?" It was a strange question, but she was not a normal woman, by any means.

>>>

Ulquiorra paced a little longer, feeling uneasy with his situation and finding it harder to justify sitting. But moving was only making him more agitated, and he relented, sitting down and leaning back with his arms crossed. He was feeling quite out of character and hoped that if he just relaxed and breathed, perhaps his temper would cool.

"A great deal of information has been gathered. Some.. valuable experiences, I suppose. Some.. very... unfortunate things I would rather like to forget..." He paused again, thinking it over. "But.. As we are here, and have gone through various things here.. I suppose the only reasonable thought is that they have been positive in one respect or another."

>>>

"Experience is a positive thing, in thought, even if the experiences themselves are taken naegatively." Nemu settled a bit herself as he sat, able to relax more when he did, muscles stiffening less, back helt just a bit looser, allowed herself to sink a bit, lean, curve her spine.

"... If you could forget-" She was unsure as to her justification for such a question, for such idle and somewhat frivolous talk, and could only say that perhaps she was trying to distract from her own unease, "... one thing, what would you?"

>>>

Thinking carefully over the question, he stared up at the ceiling, eyes following the edges of the wood and the patterns of the paint. One thing. Certainly there were many unpleasentries--the sexual situations, the humiliations, his time spent as a woman, and as a child. Nothing he would like to have happened, or to have happen again. But in the end...

"Nothing. I would not like to forget anything." He was an information gatherer, equipped with the ability to record and store data from his own observations. To forget would go against his nature, and his philosophy. "It would be a waste."

A pause. "Yourself?"

>>>

Her shoulders moved, a brief motion that could have been mistaken for a laugh, though no sound escaped her. Dark eyes followed his gaze to the ceiling, then back down.

"The same." She said. "To forget something would leave gaps in the memory that are too easily manipulated, and shows a weakness that one cannot deal with a certain fact and seeks to change it any way they can, by erasing the thought of it." The shinigami sighed lightly, an almost undetectable noise.

"Too many people forget here."

>>>

"Yes, they do." He frowned again at this, recalling the various times those he knew seemed to lose their memory. Indeed, they acted like a different person. It was not just unsettling, but dangerous. Information lost, or thrown about when the giver did not know better. It made everything terribly unstable.

"It merely shows their weakness."

>>>

"This is true." Nemu murmured softly, let her eyes slip close a moment and allowed her neck to relax, to lean back until the rear of her skull rested ever so slightly against the couch.

"But, then again, not everyone is as callous as you or I." It was something of an insult to most peple, but to her it was just a fact. A fact evidenced by the fact that he was the Cuarta Espada and she was cold enough to be able to bring a person she considered a friend to her father for experimentation.

>>>

Ulquiorra's lips almost twitched, but he nodded once instead. It was true. Emotions and weaknesses plagued others, but he was superior in all things and had no time for such blather. She as well was unlike the mortals that clogged the City and the world they came from.

"The unfortunate draw back to superiority."

>>>

"... Ah." Nemu held out her hand, palm up, a small gesture as she motioned toward his own hand, offering no other explanation for the request.

>>>

Looking down at the hand, he became more aware of their situation, the conversation, what it meant and what it could lead to. His frown returned and he did not take the hand, but he did not rise, as part of him wished. The slight irritation returned to build tension in his back and he stared at the wall.

After a long moment, he said, "If they all rebel against me, I may have a problem."

>>>

Nemu did not waver, her hand in gesture did not move, not tremble in the slightest, frozen where she's placed it, asking.

"You think they will?" She asked, detecting the tensing in his limbs, the twitch where his neck met jaw, the slight tells of his frustration, his anxiety, hidden so well behind that blank mask.

"I believe it rests on whether you try and stop them from killing shinigami or not." She spoke as if she wasn't one, as if such a decision did not affect her, though it did, the hand she was holding out the one that had been crushed, evident now only in the slightly strange lilt of the wrist, and a lingering scar on one finger where bone had punctured.

>>>

"Perhaps. However, they argue with me as though I were some meager two-digit weakling. I cannot let them get away with it. However, I wish not to waste energy on reigning in loose cannons."

He sighed again, realizing he was rambling and letting his frustrations show. This was unacceptable. Clearly, he was not meant to be in anyone's company at the moment. He pushed himself up from the couch, allowing his hand to brush hers as he did so, and stood still in the middle of the room. "There is little point thinking about it, I suppose. What happen will happen."

>>>

"I am sure you will come to a suitable conclusion." Nemu withdrew her hand after the soft touch, that one thing all she'd wanted. One brush of skin on another, a touch that held no meaning to cause pain, to injure, to experiment on, was all she'd needed to anchor herself, something so simple that could sustain her for a little while, almost hating the fact that, in her master's abscense, had let herself become somewhat comfortable with a touch that did not come accompanied by bruise or break.

"... Thank you for coming by."

>>>

Turning to her, he nodded once, a gesture without thanks or acceptance of the gratitude--merely the acknowledgement of her words. And he knew that she would accept it, for her demands were not unreasonable. Unlike the emotional humans, she did not ask for things out of desire or irrational selfish wants. She had a logical mind, one which he could respond to without trepidation for an emotional explosion.

"Yes, well. The conversation was certainly more intelligent than anything I have had in the past few days," he amended, heading for the door. He still had plenty to think upon.

>>>

She nodded, once, a curt motion, and watched him leave. A silence descended, complete and utter, until the tell-tale ticking of the City clock surged up in the back of her mind, another reminded of the fact that, while she was alone, this was nothing new, and it did not so much bother her as make her feel guilty.

Nemu closed her eyes and counted down the time until she would rise up and return to Mayuri-sama and the experiments on Cal Thompson.

Log; Complete

no subject

no subject