tampered | Log: Incomplete

Log: Incomplete

When; March 4th [Early Evening].
Rating; PG-13. I assume Cirucci will do some cursing.
Characters; Ichimaru Gin [

ginocidal], Cirucci Thunderwitch [

thunderwitch].
Summary; In which Cirucci gives Gin a tour of the town.
Log;

Though by all appearances his eyes were closed, Gin's head still followed the illuminated path of the carousel, the decorative lights reflected on his pale face. As per usual, he wore a mischievous grin, one that partially suggested his approval of the carousel and alternately, plans to tear it down. There was enough activity around him to drown the constant ticking he heard whenever alone, but the crowds were far from overwhelming. And even if they were, he had a feeling that he would be given wide berth. There was something about his smile that demanded it.

Cirucci was either late or he was early; Gin had lost sense of time since he'd arrived, understanding only night and day. The ticking marked no hour or minute and while he found it amusing to ponder its purpose, he didn't dwell on the subject. It was just another one of the City's many entertaining eccentricities.

If Cirucci failed to show up at all, he would have been somewhat surprised, but not at all displeased. Despite the Privaron Espada's desire to please, Gin knew very well that she disliked him. In fact, he could not think of a single arrancar who didn't. This didn't bother him in the least. Seeing their distaste, barely veiled behind sycophantic smiles and respectful titles reminded him of home. Some were smart enough to keep their hatred in check - others lacked the mental capacity to do so.

Clasping his hands under the cover of his flowing sleeves, he wondered when the carousel last had passengers.

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Oh, she came, alright.

There was too many consequences to not coming, too many lost oppurtunities if she didn't come, to dare pass the chance up. No, she'd hurriedly checked her appearence, tucked hair up, smoothed dress, and she was off.

And she arrived just as quickly, the reverb of sonido echoing off the surrounding buildings, and she brought herself to a full stop, behind and to the right of the man she was forced to call superior.

"Ichimaru-sama." The Privaron murmured, twisting her lips into a smirk for him, her eyes to lidded to hide the jealousy, the grudge, the hate, kept, through will, her fingers from arching.

"Let Cirucci be the first to welcome you to the City."

Gin feigned surprise at the sudden appearance of his tour guide apparent behind him. He even affected a little jump. Though his ability to sense reiatsu was still somewhat skewed by his surroundings, it sharpened the more he made contact with his colleagues and subordinates - current and former.

"Ah! Cirucci, you must be gettin' faster. You surprised me." He lied smoothly, lifting his brows marginally as he turned to face her. "Y'know, I coulda sworn you were dead. I guess you were one of the undead that Szayel was complaining about."

Tension was rising from her in trembling waves. Though he hardly knew her, he'd heard through the grapevine that she was something of a firecracker. Perhaps she'd thought to convince him otherwise.

"Thanks for the welcome, Cirucci, but I thought I asked ya to look nice...." He paused, then offered a small chuckle. "Aw, I'm sorry! This must be nice for ya! It's been so long since I last saw ya, I musta built you up a li'l' too high in my mind." Gin's smile turned slightly sheepish; or at least his impersonation of it.

He turned his back toward her again, his gaze returning to the carousel.

"Tell me 'bout this thing, will ya?"

She twitched.

Cirucci's lips twisted, but affected more of a grimace than a smile, her fingers tightened, spasmed and fought not to fist, instead forcing her tight, strained muscles bow her head, as if in subservience she didn't possess.

"My sincere apologies, Ichimaru-sama, that my appearence isn't pleasing to you." Hackles rose at just the comment, pride bruised and routinely sliced and diced to accommodate those who could kill her without thought. It was sick, it was disgusting, and she kept it up.

The comment on her death however, was glossed over, because it stung to much to even begin to parody for him.

"The carousel," The Arrancar began, silk and honey voice all made up to hide her hate, "Is supposedly some mechanism that turns the clock in the Underground, the one counting down to the supposed end of all worlds."

It was too easy to read her through her tone alone. Everything simmered beneath the surface and her self-preservation instinct was the only thing that seemed to be keeping it down. Gin accepted no other sacrifices than pride and dignity. Virgins were just too hard to come by these days.

"Aw, I didn' mean it like that. You always look so stunnin', I was hopin' you'd try for a li'l' more for your poor superior." He muttered off-handedly, his eyes still drawing along the lines and lights of the carousel. This was a common game for him - insult, compliment, insulting compliment.

"So that's what that tickin' is, huh? I see!" Gin exclaimed with great comprehension. "End of all worlds.... How eerie. I wonder what would happen if someone were t'just...destroy it? The clock, I mean. What do you think?"

She bit her lip, not to talk back to that comment. What was good enough for the Espada could be good enough for her poor superior. What a fucking joke. She hated it, the belittling of power, when she herself, who had so much, didn't possess any of it left at all, just the scar as a reminder and her weakness in comparison to keep her in check.

"I don't know." Cirucci huffed, arms crossing under her breasts and finally taking on a more familiar stance, hips cocked, lips pursed. "Some people have tried before, but. It's awful hard apparently, to even get close to it. Deities here have said they'd destroy worlds before, but they're bluffing."

Was she breaking? Gin rather hoped so. He wouldn't kill her for disrespecting him - no, he was more...innovative with his punishments. He began walking past her, throwing a smile closer to a leer over his shoulder in her direction.

"You're not warnin' me against tryin' it, are you?" He chirped merrily as he crossed behind her, dragging his fingers ever-so-lightly along her back. Tense. "How can ya be so sure they're bluffin'? Destroyin' worlds is a lot easier than you think."

He paused behind her, his fingers curling firmly around her left shoulder.

"I'm ready to move on now."

She froze.

A shiver, as his fingers dragged up her back. Her breath hitched, and fingers twisted, lips pursed harder and neck quivered. Reaction.

"Never, Ichimaru-sama." She murmured, with a conscious effort to relax. It took effort, truly, to act as if she were truly comfortable under his touch- she wasn't- and averted her eyes skyward.

"Apartments, Xanadu, Other, where would you like to start, Ichimaru-sama." It was crooned, another conscious effort to good manners, the silk and honey voice she could and would adopt if need be, as opposed to her usual avian tones.

Her tells would have been subtle to most. He caught it as easily as if she had outright told him to keep his distance. His fingers lingered half a second longer than socially acceptable before they drew away completely, once again in the protective hood of his sleeve.

"Is there somethin' wrong, Cirucci?" Gin drawled, fingertips brushing against her curls for a fleeting second. A hummingbird wouldn't have caught him at work, but he had a feeling she would.

"Xanadu? That sounds nice 'n' quaint. I hear there are hot springs there? Though I'm sure there are other places we could go...places underappreciated. You can relate, right?"

Her chin rose slightly, too proud a gesture, and she did indeed catch, the slight displacement against her hair, the way she wanted to shiver, but held it back, ignored it and moved her own hand to toss curls back.

"Of course not, Ichimaru-sama. Cirucci doesn't even know why he'd think there was." Certainly not because his touch made her skin crawl, even she, who certainly didn't have the cleanest reputation in Los Noches.

"Hot springs by the temple, there, yes. And the gardens are... pretty, if you like that sort of thing." Relate to being underappreciated? Of course. Relate to being relegated to some backwater fucking guard duty-

"No."

"Cirucci, I'd like ya to think o' me as your friend. You'd tell Ichimaru-sama if somethin' was wrong, wouldn' ya?" He didn't even attempt to hide the mockery in his tone, the obvious amusement he was having at her expense. Gin fed off this discomfort and revulsion just as heartily as he fed off Rukia's fear.

He ignored her statement regarding Xanadu for a moment, preferring to prod at more delicate subjects.

"No? Really?" His voice dropped notably as he closed the distance between them a few inches, his chest nearly touching her back. "'Cause from what I remember, you were at the very top once. An' then you jus' dropped one notch at a time 'til you were stuck here. Doin' tour guide duty an' whatever task they throw ya to keep you busy, since you're not much good for anythin' important anymore. How does that make ya feel, Cirucci?"

She hated that tone. Condescending, mocking, better than she and he knew it, higher ranked, more respect, more, more, more-

"I could never begin to think Ichimaru-sama was someone Cirucci could call a friend or equal." She shot back, voice dripping venom now, no longer milk and honey, not bothering with sweet when it wouldn't work. When it's not like he couldn't tell.

When he got so close, she stood straighter, petite form too proud, too proud to be disgraced and yet she was. She bit her lip briefly, and blatantly didn't turn to face him, kept her back exposed, muscles taught.

"I'm important." She murmured, low, steady. "I've done more in this goddamned place than any of your Espada." She had. Been here the longest of any of them, killed more than all of them. "Here, I know more than any of us."

"You're right about the equal part, but I don't gotta be your equal to be your friend, right?"

Where her words grew more and more caustic, his remained the same. Light, airy, but always with that syrupy sense of pleasant disdain. She was the dirt on his shoe, but he was kind to her anyway - kind in the loosest definition of the word. If Gin were the feeling sort, he would have pitied her. Instead, unwrapping her hostility with his tongue had become a game.

"Let's be accurate here, Cirucci. You were important. An' they're not my Espada."

Pride was such a frail thing. He could snap it in half easier than any body.

"You know more than any of them. Why is that, Cirucci?" He tapped a finger to his chin before donning an expression of eureka! "Oh! Is it 'cause you been here longer than most people, right? 'Cause ya died. This ain't exactly the hell you were expectin', is it?"

"I didn't fucking come here dead." Cirucci snapped immediately, finally whirling. Her hand had rose, to slap, perhaps, but she checked it, held it quivering back, eyes blazing. She hadn't come here dead, no, but she was now, pretty little neck snapped, and no beating blood, no warmth, only a cold body for a cold bed.

"And I am important." Fury, painted clear on her face. "I've been here the longest, so? I know who to go to here. I know who has power here. I know how things go here, who to go for what, who to avoid, who to challenge, who to extort, who to-"

The Privaron snapped, completely, and realized it, tossed her head and fixed her hair, lips twisted in disdain.

"I am the most important Arrancar here." She finished.

He surveyed her almost curiously, head tilted with interest. The way he looked at her, she might have been some exotic new parrot at the zoo. He had not even blinked (did he ever blink?) when she had turned on him, his glance only grazing the threatening hand.

"If I were less merciful, it wouldn' really matter how ya came here, 'cause you'd be dead now." Gin remarked casually, lightly patting Cirucci's head. It was like tickling a snapping turtle - something only he would dare to do. He even left his hand there, atop her head. "You're right. Knowledge is power, but it's all 'bout keepin' your head long enough to use that knowledge, ain't it?"

Though she thought quite highly of herself as all Arrancar did, Gin didn't doubt that Aizen would slit her throat in a second if it pleased him. Even the most important Arrancar was highly disposable.

"Most important Arrancar here...." He mused aloud before grabbing her roughly by the scalp. "I'm glad you could finally tell me how ya feel. I think we can be friends now."

Cirucci snarled again, jerked against the hold by tossing her head, but didn't make another move, except to bring her hands down, crossed under her breasts, and hip cocked, nails digging into the white gloves she wore. As if she didn't need bother defending herself, didn't need bother rising, though she had.

"I'm surprised." She crooned, eyes rolled. For all she could do, she could act, and mood swings, too, and now she acted as if that hand, rough in her hair, could have been a lover's sweet twine of fingers in her curls.

"Luppi always told Cirucci how fun Ichimaru-sama was, and she never thought he could ever be her friend."

He lifted her a few inches by her hair as easily as if picking up a book. The thinness of his limbs betrayed his true strength, but Cirucci had always known his capabilities. That was what amused Gin most - her lack of self control. She'd known he could destroy her with the blink of an eye, but she'd allowed herself to lose control anyway. No other Arrancar - no real Espada - would have had such poor restraint.

"Oh yeah, I'm tons o' fun. Can't ya tell?" He lifted her higher, bringing them eye to eye. "Well, I can. And I will. But as friends, we gotta respect each other. We can't go yellin' at each other whenever we please. We'll talk through things like civilized people. Right?"

Finally, he set her down gently and freed his hand from her locks, fingers lightly brushing her cheek before his arm dropped back to his side.

"Boss and friend can be synonymous!" He sounded every bit like the annoying supervisor inviting himself to drinks after work.

This, too, was nothing new. Abuse by those above her was never new to an Arrancar, especially never new to a Privaron. Her lips pursed, to disguise the grit of pain in her jaw, and she took it, like she could take the abuse if she'd a mind, rising the tiptoes when she could, then her small booted feet dangling.

"..." Eyes burned, furious, shamed, all of it at once, and her neck quivered with strain.

"Of course, Ichimaru-sama." She finally whispered with a coy smile, faked just for him. "I would love to be your friend."

As long as she could suck up before trying to stab him in the back.

Gin didn't believe her sudden subservience one bit, but that didn't stop him from giving her a pleased smile. At least, more pleased than usual. She still had bite to her, which thrilled him to no end. What fun was broken merchandise? Where before he had wanted her on her knees, now he wanted more from her. More indignance, more outbursts, and most of all, more humiliation. It had been awhile since he'd seen anyone wear it as well as she.

"Forgive me for bein' so forceful. I jus' wanted t'get my point across. You're not hurt are ya?" Of course she probably wasn't, not badly. But even if she was, she wouldn't tell him. It wasn't as if he truly cared. It wasn't as if he'd do anything about it.

"Now, shall we go to Xanadu? Or has all that emotional exertion got ya tired?"

Cirucci still had bite because without it, she'd have nothing. Without the pride she wore in tatters, without the snap and bite and cold, she was only shame, only shamed, as evidenced from the scar ugly and number shaped on her chest.

"Only if hair mussing is painful, Ichimaru-sama." She muttered, fussing with it, twining dark purple strands on pale fingers and rearranging, pulled one locke from the spikes of her stark ivory mask fragment.

"And, no." Firm, confidant. Actress, the way she twirled, beckoned.

"Follow me."

[ooc; Alrighty, thanks~! Until next time. ♥]

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