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tampered2007-08-26 07:21 pm
unresearched.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-08-26 07:21 pm
Log; complete
When; Today~
Rating; PG-13+ We're talking blood, kiddies~
Characters; Szayel-Aporro Grantz [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unresearched] and Cirucci Thunderwitch [thunderwitch]
Summary; While affected with 'out damned spot' Szayel gets a little blood happy~ The Thunderwitch is there to help!
Log;
He dripped. He dropped. He leaked without having been punctured.
Szayel Aporro left a trail of blood.
He stalked. He smiled.
He flicked dripping drops off of his fingers, appreciating the spray of red on the wall. Marking it. Noting it. His feet squished, shoes squelching, carpet staining underfoot. It was a bad joke; a messy, disgusting sheen of congealing red coating his white uniform. It had marked him out the second he'd stepped outside, people moving aside faster than rats to cheese. Moths to a flame in reverse. He smiled.
The younger Grantz flexed his hands, more droplets flying free from his body. It was such a shame to think it would clean itself up when the curse ended. Such a shame to not be allowed the chance to cleanse it himself. A pity.
And it wasn't enough. Dripping blood from countless souls was not enough. He wanted more.
And the Privaron had all too kindly given him the opportunity to add more to the oozing mess that fell from him in dripping drops. He didn't stop to think on how to play it out. Cirucci Thunderwitch was Privaron. Privaron had a place. Privaron would settle for the role of shinigami for the day.
He'd painted his walls, and now he wiped blood off on the door that marked Noitora's abode. He knocked. It didn't matter which one answered. The Privaron would be the one he dragged outside.
He waited on the act to start.
Rating; PG-13+ We're talking blood, kiddies~
Characters; Szayel-Aporro Grantz [
unresearched] and Cirucci Thunderwitch [thunderwitch]Summary; While affected with 'out damned spot' Szayel gets a little blood happy~ The Thunderwitch is there to help!
Log;
He dripped. He dropped. He leaked without having been punctured.
Szayel Aporro left a trail of blood.
He stalked. He smiled.
He flicked dripping drops off of his fingers, appreciating the spray of red on the wall. Marking it. Noting it. His feet squished, shoes squelching, carpet staining underfoot. It was a bad joke; a messy, disgusting sheen of congealing red coating his white uniform. It had marked him out the second he'd stepped outside, people moving aside faster than rats to cheese. Moths to a flame in reverse. He smiled.
The younger Grantz flexed his hands, more droplets flying free from his body. It was such a shame to think it would clean itself up when the curse ended. Such a shame to not be allowed the chance to cleanse it himself. A pity.
And it wasn't enough. Dripping blood from countless souls was not enough. He wanted more.
And the Privaron had all too kindly given him the opportunity to add more to the oozing mess that fell from him in dripping drops. He didn't stop to think on how to play it out. Cirucci Thunderwitch was Privaron. Privaron had a place. Privaron would settle for the role of shinigami for the day.
He'd painted his walls, and now he wiped blood off on the door that marked Noitora's abode. He knocked. It didn't matter which one answered. The Privaron would be the one he dragged outside.
He waited on the act to start.