Log; Complete

[with-no-fear.livejournal.com]

When; Sunday, September 9th
Rating; G
Characters; Cirucci Thunderwitch thunderwitch and Aizen Sosuke with_no_fear
Summary; Aizen gets to meet his "God son".
Log;

Cirucci shushed her son, bouncing the infant on her hip gently as she knocked on the door of one Aizen Sousuke.

Last time she had been here she had left with her tail between her legs, left with sweat on her brow and her body strained from dealing with the overwhelming crush of the former shinigami's reiatsu. Last time he had known she'd defected from his service, well, not his service, but the service of the Aizen before him, to follow Alturo Plateado. But the first Arrancar was gone now, when she had woken and not found him there beside her she had known he had gone, leaving her alone again, without a leader again.

The Thunderwitch would never admit it, never would, but she needed a leader.

"There, there, dear." It was a pillow, really, but courtesy the curse, it was a child, with thick, dark hair and rounded purple eyes, with a hole through it's torso and a small bone mask with sharp jackel's teeth on the side of it's head. A cute child, of course, nothing but a cute child could come from her and-

... Well, she assumed it was Luppi's. No matter.

Aizen, in courtesy of the new mother when he felt the unmistakable reiatsu of an Arrancar approach his apartment door, even if he was well aware that she had been affected by the curse of this city, opened the door instead of simply offering permission to enter. "Cirucci and... your son, I assume." It was amusing, but a good reminder of her weakness once she had come to her senses, this curse. Thinking objects were children, and from what he understood seeing and hearing them as such.

"It's been a while since you and I last spoke. Your attitude then leads me to wonder why I would be named a Godfather now." He was well aware that since her former master had left that she was venerable, he had not missed how the other Arrancar treated her without the protection of the self proclaimed first. She'd recovered quickly enough, seducing the Espada to get into or out of situation. His words were not harsh, simply curious for the time being. "Something happen to change your mind?" He'd done nothing to encourage or discourage the Arrancar so far.

"Aizen-sama~" Her voice was indulgent, turning from the child on her hip and directing her soft smile at the man and not her infant. "Mm." She answered, cocking her hip, white dress shifting to offer a better view of the little boy, her taloned, thin, dangerous fingers stroking lightly through his hair with a soft croon.

"Ah, well-" At the question she pursed her lips, nibbling lightly. She was showing a few signs of exhaustion in her delicate features, and not just from her baby. From use, from nights in sweating sheets to advance her own position. There was a faint shadow of darkness hidden beneath thick lashes and slightly dulled eyes, a bit of weakness in limbs and stance, a bit less excitement, a bit less temptation in her usual sultry voice.

"Aizen-sama has always led, mm? It's only proper he be a godfather." Her son fisted small hands in her dress and tugged, gaze falling to him as she gently untangled small fingers from the white fabric.

"I suppose that would be a reason, if you deem it appropriate qualification." The door swung shut with barely a click, the white stone blending with the white of the surrounding walls almost seamlessly. "I suppose I am honored." Even had she known the child was only a pillow, she might have still declared the same, just for the favor such a gesture might bring her. Cirucci had always been manipulative to a fault, one of her more endearing qualities.

"Come in and sit down." It was a demand veiled thinly as a request, as he turned to walk further into the building, through a maze of unadorned hallways until he came upon a room with a table and chairs set in the center, breaking the monotony. He gestured vaguely, taking a seat at the head. It was a perfect reproduction, not because he enjoyed the way Los Noches was arranged, but for the familiarity and memories the Arrancar would attach to such a place. "Make yourself comfortable."


Cirucci followed obediently, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her bone mask and idly crooning to her son, who was looking wide-eyed at the vast expanse of white walls. If she'd been in Los Noches this is what he would be accustomed to, albeit, the higher domed ceilings and barer expanses of Tres Cifras, along with all the shame attached. But... this wasn-

Her train of though died immediately when she entered that room.

It was that table. That table... the Espada's table. Her eyes softened immediately, darkened then, recalling a proud, inked number on her breast where there was now only a scar, recalling the proud smile that, though she still wore it, was only a shadow of what it had been. Her power, and the respect it commanded, were only shadows of what they had been. ... She was a shadow of what she had been.

"... Ah." Cirucci managed to murmur, ignoring the suddenly fussy cries of the baby on her hip and automatically headed for the fifth seat, running her fingers over the chair just a bit longer than she should have before slipping into the seat.

Aizen's eyes followed Cirucci, watching as various thoughts passed over her tired eyes, every movement she made, and how she seemed momentarily lost in another time. The corner of his mouth curved imperceptibly as she moved to the fifth seat, seemingly without thought. "The child seems not to be your only preoccupation." Many of the City's inhabitants had mentioned her to him, often times demanding that he do something about her behavior. He had not moved to intervene as of yet, however, because he was interested to see the strength of those who were already his enemies without him so much as speaking a word to them. "You've been busy?"

He was not going to mention the table at which they sat, she may choose to do so, but he would not give her a reason for choosing this room out of so many. She needed to think and make connections of her own, she needed to pull up those memories if she was to serve him again.

"Ah... yes, busy." Cirucci murmured, setting her son in her lap and idly bouncing him on her knee, chastising him sharply when he nipped at her breast with sharp teeth and the accompanying bone mask. She winced.

"Fought the white-haired captain, messed him up something awful." She distracted herself from the table, from the familiar feel of a cool, white, seat by running her fingers through dark hair, petting and stroking tensely. "Messed with the medical vice some, cut a finger off... killed a bit, you know... ate a soul or two... threatened a few people..." She laughed somewhat bitterly, eyes on the smooth surface of the table and remembering elbows propped lazily, kicking her feet and sprawling in that seat, voice loud and proud, the Quinta.

Not the 105th. Why had he... Why this. ... It was almost too cruel.

"I see." This place had not changed her, she was the same proud Privaron she'd always been. He thought he should warn her away from provoking the Shinigami, one in particular, too much, but now was not the time to be giving such orders. First he had to work out the smaller details of what needed to be done, and follow the steps one by one until it was time...

"You must be enjoying yourself." The question was delivered in a tone of voice that indicated boredom and disinterest. He already knew such was not the case, or she would not be here now, she wouldn't have shadows under her eyes. She was not one of his creations, but she was one of his. Cirucci seemed to be the first of them to be coming to the understanding of exactly what his role was, why they needed him. If the others could not learn this lesson, he did not need them, he would replace them in short order if need be. "Many things are different here.">

"I enjoy myself in my way." She answered just as casually, near wryly. After all, wasn't this child a product of her enjoyment, her pleasures, how she chose to distract herself, throwing her efforts to males and bedding them to avoid boring herself with shinigami, with being in constant battles and being in a constant state of injury. Not that, evidenced by the stiffness and sore parts of her body, she escaped them without some form of injury either.

"... Of course there are." Different? That was an understatement. Different in every way, forcing her to domesticity, to eating human food, to living in close confines with shinigami, limiting her pool of males to select from, forcing her to weaken, forcing her to find a way to make money, all these things, so different.

"Aizen-sama just noticed?" A hint of her usual tease, snapping again at the teeth child now nibbling on the hem of her skirt.

"It was apparent upon my arrival." He offered her an indulgent smile, allowing her words to slide past him. "I will admit that some of the changes are to my liking." None of the new rules of this world had had any affect on him whatsoever. His level of power seemed the same, the things he wanted to do were unhindered, and his choice in foods was no different nor was it limited. Ah, but the tea could use a little improving, that was arbitrary, he had set to growing his own.

Aizen wondered if she missed the familiarity of Hueco Mundo, the white walls of Los Noches, and knowing her place to the letter. The Arrancar had always known exactly where they stood in terms of power and favor, here that had all been thrown to the wind, especially with Alturo gone now to upset things once more. Were they enjoying their new found 'freedom'. He doubted it. Even before he'd come to Hueco Mundo they had formed the Espada and were ruled over by the most powerful. It's what they needed.

"There are more possibilities for gaining things with the avenues having been opened up." His eyes roved over the empty chairs of the replicated Espada table, they would be filled again.


"... There are always possibilities." Cirucci murmure slyly, presenting herself subservient, submissive, by not meeting his gaze, by feigning only her maternal instincts, pale hands plying over the small bone mask, tracing petite ivory and sharp, jackal-like teeth. A cute thing, surely, thumbing over the small marks on his cheeks that echoed hers. She was an actress, the Thunderwitch, and the offer, the picture she presented, was open to so many possibilities.

"It just matters what can be gained, if they're worth pursuing, hmm?" But her words, those were calculating. Those were clever and all together too sharp, too dangerous, her violet eyes shimmering beneath the lids and thick black lashes.

"If one acts correctly, there is everything to be gained." Aizen sat back in his chair, lounging comfortably in such a way that indicated he had no worries, and no fear. Both were true. "A mistake, however, can be worse than fatal in a City where one cannot die." Where there was not death there could only be complete destruction.

He propped his chin on one upturned hand, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. "Are you comfortable, one of these chairs may not be the best place for you to sit?" His change in subject was nothing of the sort, an offer veiled behind the pleasantries of a host. That's what he was playing today, after all. "There are other places here that may be more fitting for us to hold a conversation." A sweeping gesture with his free hand indicated the direction where Tres Cifras would be had they been in their own world.

It was hard for her to suppress the anger, the pure, unadulterated loathing, that rose up in her throat like vile at his thinly veiled words. Disgraced Espada. Former Espada. Privaron Espada. Her entire body stiffened, eyes snapped up and chin rose, fighting to keep the utter rebellion from her eyes, to keep the poison from her painted lips and the tightening of her hands, of nails biting sharply into a small pillow.

"I'm fine right here." She grit out, nearly snapped. "I'm quite comfortable here." What hung unsaid was "I was fine right here. I was comfortable here. ... I used to sit here."


"If it is where you are comfortable, then stay there." His tone did not change, there was no reaction other than a slight smirk to her response. Her reactions were predictable, usefully so. She would never be Espada again; as much as she denied being dead, he had witnessed it in their own world, but there was no harm in allowing her to over inflate her ego in this place, one she could not escape from. He doubted that this exchange would even be remembered when he put forth the effort to return, that any time would have passed and he'd find himself back in the hallway on his way to speak with Gin.

The theory still stood to be proven, though, if he made an object in this world with something from his own, could it be taken back with him? He would use the Thunderwitch to find out. "No one is going to force you from that seat."

"..." Cirucci eyed him warily, finally broke her gaze to turn back to her pillow-son, to coddle and soothe the fussy child, who was beginning to whine, bordering on tears. She hated tears. She hated weakness. She hated Aizen.

She hated herself.

"Then I'm not moving." She murmured bitterly, not bothering anymore to disguise her hatred, her loathing, her purely selfish hatred for the ones who had replaced her at this table, for the one in particular who had taken the five from her breast.

As Aizen had expected. "Such a minor detail, a chair, you should not get so worked up." She would not be sitting there though, she would not get a new number, instead he had a different place for her. That place was not to be discussed now, but it would become apparent, especially to the other Arrancar. "This visit is supposed to be about you and... your son. You've not yet told me his name."

"I've noticed many others having small children of late, almost an epidemic." Seeing one so proud as her cooing and teasing a pillow as if it were a child was an amusing sight, even if he did find these curses childish still, the only purpose to them to show the weakness of those in the City. As he had not been affected, it was a perfect display of his power over the rest.

What was his name? Did he have a name? Of course he had a name, children had na-

"Ciro." She spoke, as if she had always known that name, as if she'd picked it, had given it. It did not seem weird to her, all the children, nor did she think it sudden. The child had begun to cry, and that made her peeved, it showed on her face, trying to silence him by placing him against her breast and rocking gently, lowering her to a soft, soothing, whisper.

"That's his name." It was almost terrifying to see her like this, so warmed and maternal.

"A good name." The display before Aizen was not one any would expect out of an Arrancar, let alone a Privaron Espada. Then again, Arrancar were not supposed to be able to give birth, and while Cirucci Thunderwitch had not done so, she was under the illusion that she had, and so thought this child was hers. It was interesting, and information he would be using later for his research into creating even stronger beings. Her maternal instincts did not reflect love, but more possession and pride, a form of arrogance at being able to create life perhaps. This curse did not create hearts in those without them, after all.

"You chose the name, since you are still unsure as to the father." The father of Cirucci's pillow child, had Aizen been anyone else the idea would have been laughable. "You must be proud of him, your son, the child of an Espada." And former, though that was left unsaid, as was the fact that she would come to realize once the new day struck.

"Mm, that's right." She smiled down at the child, stroking his hair softly as it hiccuped and sobbed lightly against her breast. It wasn't good to cry, it was weakness, but Aizen didn't seem to be upset over it, so she let it slide, just this once.

"I'm thinking it may be Luppi's... I'm not positive." Cirucci shrugged softly, so as not to disturb her son crying softly against her bosom. "..." Proud, was she proud? An Espada, he said... the child of an Espada. A Privaron Espada... a disgraced Espada, shamed Espada, divested Espada.

Still Espada.

"I am."

"I'm sure many of the Shinigami and Arrancar are talking. They must have much to say." Aizen led on, trusting the Thunderwitch to keep up. She was not the smartest Arrancar, but she was not stupid. She also had her uses, but it was a matter is she decided to be used or be tossed aside once more. "It is, after all, an event worth speaking of." If she had really had a child it would be, and even though she thought it true, there were other things that many would be speaking of.

His reputation had proceeded him, at least in part true of what the public knew of him. He could not extract information, or expect it offered up as he should have been able to. That was what his Arrancar were to be for in this place where they were otherwise useless. No other could be more effective than Cirucci in this task, making her more valuable than simple strength. "There must be many things talked about around the City."

"Of course there are~" Cirucci smirked, picking up on the implications in that statement. She was a gossip, she kept tabs. She knew the shinigami's ways, she knew everything the other Arrancar did, what they liked, how they liked it. She knew things, a social construct, a social creature, and nothing would ever change that.

"Cirucci knows lots of things that they talk about." It was a hint, an agreement, a message of possible worth.

"I don't hear much of the gossip, as you can imagine. I'm a tad busy for socializing , but that is to say I'm not interested in what is going on around me." Aizen shifted so he was leaning on his opposite hand in a mirror of his previous position, his gaze fixed more directly at the Privaron Espada. "I would like to remedy that, if possible. Knowledge, as they say, is power."

Knowledge is power.

Cirucci Thunderwitch wanted power. Her hands twitched, nails rising threatening over the child's head and a wicked smile beginning to play across her lips before she realized what she was doing and carefully quieted, changing her threatening gesture to a soft croon and kiss on a small mop of black hair.

"Cirucci could help you remedy that." She could indeed, and, oh, the implications...

Smiling in what could almost be considered an innocent way, had he been anyone else, Aizen took in the changed in Cirucci Thunderwitch. She was his once again, entirely. "Please do. We could meet again soon and discuss this further, among other things of minor interest." That was one less Arrancar he would have to bother with replacing. "Perhaps find you a more comfortable seat than that."

"... Of course, Aizen-sama." Cirucci Thunderwitch needed security. She needed power. She needed respect. She needed a lot of things.

The Privaron Espada finally quieted her son.

"Of course."