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tampered2008-03-06 04:21 am
ginocidal.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-03-06 04:21 am
Log: Completed
When; March 5th.
Rating; PG-13 [for light gore, intense situations and innuendo].
Characters; Ichimaru Gin [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ginocidal] and Kuchiki Rukia [wingstock].
Summary; The "Big Bad Wolf" invites "Princess Rukia" to the woods to examine his gold.
Log;
Her first day of being cursed, Rukia was only half aware of her real self, the rest taken or, if you will, swept off her feet and away from her, replaced by a primary case of Pretty-Pretty-Princess, minus the plastic jewelry and twice the royal pomp. It was, perhaps, the only time in her life so far--and probably ever--that she gave off the first perceived and often noted Kuchiki air.
Which was really just a half-polite way to say: stuck up beyond all reason.
Donning an uncharacteristically pink gown of true fairytale make, she made her way to the woods, not far at all as it turned out, which was one point in this strange man's favor. Something about him seemed to tell her to stay away, something that said: you know better. Unfortunately the Princess in her had taken over entirely and she opted for a fiercer stance that should anything happen to her while going to acquire more riches for herself, the perpetrator would be beheaded at best, quartered and drawn at not best, and well, at worst?
She would think of something to tell her father to have done to the heinous brute.
Until then, she considered herself on a gold hunt, a treasure gathering even. If he was going to sell it anyway, she had the money to buy these things, one of the perks of richness, Rukia supposed as she exhaled roughly, hair blowing out of her face as she walked deeper into the woods. It was an option to call out, but without a name, she wasn't certain how a vague call would do anyone much good at all, and so she refrained.
"Peasant," she muttered under her breath, peering around trees and being slightly more than weirded out by the various forest sounds. Princesses generally didn't do this sort of thing, she thought to herself unhappily, but she was here already and that was that.
--
Gin had heard rumor of these so-called curses, but in true Gin nature, he didn't concern himself over them. He had been completely confident that he would have been able to dodge anything too unfortunate...and while this current curse wasn't exactly inconvenient, it did put a spin on the typical Gin persona. He had few inhibitions to begin with, but he had never been particularly hedonistic. Well, yes, he pursued his pleasures, but never before had his pleasures been so...pressing.
He smelled her before he heard her sure steps and he heard her sure steps before he actually saw her. He hadn't been lying before; her smell was alluring; sweet, fresh, bitter and cold. Exactly like her reiatsu. Indeed, the two had seemed to merge into one irresistible force bound and determined to draw him near. Maybe it was the princess thing. Maybe it was his natural desire to own, to destroy anything and everything delicate. But most likely, it was sheer hunger.
Finding the gold had been simple enough. With the arrival of this curse, treasure had appeared everywhere and anywhere dark and forboding. In a cave, in this case. Luckily, Gin was far darker and more forboding than anything the forest had to offer.
At her harsh whisper, he stepped out from behind a brush. Dirt streaked his bare torso. In the mottled moonlight, his hair was nearly platinum, sticking up at every odd angle. His smile bared just the slightest hint of bloodied fang, the red still lining his lips. More importantly though, gold hung from his neck, his fingers, and in a circlet around his head and his curious wolf ears. His goblet was filled to the brim with red something. Blood or wine?
His tail wagged.
"Princess! Are these to your liking? I'll have 'em sterilized before I give 'em to you, o'course. I know you won't wanna bother with them with my peasant stink all over 'em."
--
She wrinkled her nose at him and turned it down at him soon after. How primitive, but she could hardly expect more than that from the likes of a wolf. Rukia had heard some stories, though these were really fragmented bits of nursery rhyme, and she imagined she had a fair idea what this Gin was about. The very well locked away part of her that was not cursed wanted to materialize as a double and slap herself out of this fairytale nonsense, but the curse was as effective as she had seen them to be since her arrival to The City, and this one conveniently made her princess position of some unknown kingdom with a frog prince requesting an audience her foremost persona.
It startled her initially to hear him reply, for she had only whispered it, thinking none to be afoot so nearby, but she quickly composed herself again, rolling her shoulders back slightly and lifting her chin in a way typical of the noble and born to the wealthy.
"Sterilization can be taken care of at the palace, though I require you place those in a bag for me, for I'll not carry them directly by hand, of course," she said, watching him carefully, some part of him edging a feeling of intimidation and dread in her, though she thought herself entirely unfamiliar with these types of feelings prior to this meeting. It unsettled her to say the least, how the air seemed heavy and curious around him, more so even than the would-be disturbing sight of possibly bloodied teeth and a goblet of who knew what.
A princess she was but her stomach still proved strong enough, even if the creep-factor here was rising at an accelerated rate.
"If you will be so kind," she nearly rolled her eyes here but continued evenly, "To bag those, peasant, you will be compensated and I shall take my leave of you."
--
He was affected far less than she. Desires and predatory senses were augmented, but he still retained some judgement, whereas Rukia seemed to have none. He still remembered her, his need to taunt her in whatever form - and perhaps an urging past that, one he paid no mind to in normal circumstances.
"Of course. Whatever the princess desires." He replied silkily, methodically removing the pieces one by one and depositing them into a nearby burlap sack. Exactly when it had appeared was unknown. "You're gonna want to examine these, aren't ya?" Gin paused, holding the circlet before slowly extending it to her in silent invitation.
"And what sorta compensation can I be expectin' here?"
He lifted his brows in question as he sipped from his goblet, licking away the excess from lips before emptying the piece and setting it aside.
--
"Coins, a title, whatever you want really, it's not like it matters all that much," she waved off his question and expression as she considered the items he went to place in the sack. Trues, she didn't want to award this peasant nothing if the treasure was worthless, but to ascertain its caliber, she had to touch it, and it had yet to be properly cleaned.
The idea was not wholly appealing, and yet she would not be had for a fool. She had heard--or on this cursed day imagined she had heard--tales of those who were duped by false traders and she had no desire to be counted amongst their much laughed at numbers. Sighing, she shook her head at him, ignoring the way he drank from the goblet, ignoring everything about him that insinuated the darker parts of fairy tale worlds she had never quite approached before.
"Give it here then," she said at last, stepping forward again and grasping the proffered circlet.
--
He released the circlet into her possession, watching her with quiet interest. She still had the fire of the original Kuchiki and the holier-than-thou air, but both had been amplified to the point where she was near unbearable. Apparently, she wasn't from the fairy tales where the princess sang to animals and lived amongst her "people".
As she took the circlet, he brushed his roughened fingers - paw pads? - against her knuckles. Her skin was softer than it looked, but this was likely due to the curse. The authentic Kuchiki Rukia would be rough from work and battle, as any shinigami would be.
"Whatever I want, you say....?"
His shunpo still worked, the fact obvious as he disappeared and reappeared behind her in a blur and a soft brush of wind. His hands closed over hers, the entirety of his chest pressed to her back. Gin easily peered over her head, staring down at the circlet. Her scent was almost dizzying - he could smell her discomfort.
"The better the quality, the better the prize, right?" He whispered into her ear, head bowed. "Note the detailing on the edges...."
--
Rolling her eyes again, she replied impatiently, "That is what I said--" but she got no further with her irritation as he disappeared and then reappeared, but behind her and far too close for comfort or propriety. She went rigid from her toes to the top of her spine at the contact, the princess in her repelling from the root of indignant offense, and the normal Rukia part of her reeling and repelling from the root of her yet untamed fear of this man who rarely opened his eyes and even more rarely spoke truths.
Normalized in light of curse day except for her suddenly quite royal bloodline, Rukia could not have used shunpo if she wanted--and want she would have, had she remembered what shunpo was--and the silken gown left no proper place for a zanpakutou to rest. That said, she was indeed not the princess of the forest who sang with animals or was necessarily nice in any way--ask the frog--and she was not above smacking this fool with the circlet they both held. She tried to wrest her hand away in the same instant that he chose to whisper at her, which she found not only improper but...unsettling to a deep-seated degree, causing a grudging tremble in her that she felt hum through her.
"I see that quite well enough without your assistance," she hinted and in case the subtlety was lost on him she attempted to tug the circlet away from him again, also turning to face him, if at an awkward angle still refusing to relinquish what she considered, rather haughtily, her possession now.
--
The adrenaline of the hunt pulsed through him. Deer, rabbit, racoon, or human, there was still that inexorable thrill that drove him to hunt and kill again. Though he would have a bit of fun with her first.
She turned toward him and quickly, he wrapped a long arm about her waist, pinning her close. Despite his lanky appearances, there was undeniable strength in his grip, in his sudden rigidity against her. The muscles of his arms jumped beneath his skin in anticipation. With one squeeze of his arm, he could completely shatter her. The knowledge of his own power was heady indeed.
"So you see how nice my product is?" Gin drawled, first gripping her chin with his free hand, then dragging his fingers down the side of her face, smearing dirt along her cheek. "I think I know what I want my reward to be." Now, his hands tickled her throat and collarbone, slithering back to grasp the nape of her neck. His upper lip curled, fangs revealed in full.
--
Rukia had the sudden vivid image of snakes, of coils, of that intensely familiar sense of slithering not just around her neck, but around what felt like her entire being and while it served to shock her into a perfect stillness, it went as fast as it came and quite suddenly she was only aware, in true princess fashion, how obscene this was.
Well, not cursed Rukia would have considered it obscene too, but for many other different reasons.
His hold was strong, and while as a shinigami in full she might have had hope of slipping out and using shunpo to get out of this quickly darkening situation, the very human princess he had in his grasp had to settle for a vehement struggle she quickly understood she would not win, not accounting for something unexpected or supernatural, which might save her yet.
Though she did hate the idea of being saved.
People serving her, gifts for her, the world at her feet, these things the princess entertained daily, or so Rukia had false memory of entertaining.
Being accosted by what she now admitted was a badly trusted character and, perhaps most offensively, having dirt smeared across her face like some common thing, well, that was nothing she entertained ever, princess or not.
Turning her face away as sharply and as much as possible, she considered biting his fingers off as they brushed her nape, inciting an involuntary flinch.
"You will regret this, common filth," she both warned and insulted, body pinned in his strange hold but able to manage a decent kick to his shins.
It was, she reasoned with a deep scowl, better than doing nothing.
--
At her kick, his smile fluttered for the barest of seconds before returning with a vengeance, the harshest lines of her face shown in their fullest glory. In that moment, there was no questioning the animal within. And then it fell away, returning to his usual expression of the deepest serenity. Still, he grasped her hair, tugging her head back in a sharp pull.
"Common filth. Ya keep callin' me a peasant, but I wonder...who's at whose mercy now?"
He nuzzled his nose against the pale skin of her throat, savouring the faint scent of blood beneath. How would she taste? Gin guessed salty and bitter with a hint of spice. No matter how much pink she wore, the truth of Rukia's bristly ego remained. She would taste to match. His ears pressed back against his hair.
"Maybe I will regret this...if there's enough of ya left to tattle on me."
Mouth opening wide, he grazed his fangs against her neck. Blood beaded immediately, catching on the tip of his teeth. He ran his tongue along his chops with relish. A bit more iron than he'd predicted.
--
The flinch from before was a definitive tremble that ran through her entire body this time, part well ignored fear, part physical revulsion, part automatic dislike, and still, part something else, annoyance probably,because she was proud enough to refuse to show him any shame. This part of her action her dormant normal self would appreciate, though said dormant normal self would never have gotten into this in the first place. Gin was trouble, curse or no curse and on any regular day she knew that, but as misfortune would have it, not this day.
"You, I can assure you, will have no mercy whatsoever when we are through," she promised and threatened all in one.
This day she was a princess in a stupid dress with a stupid frog asking her for a stupid kiss and a not so stupid but very unwanted wolf trying to...do something, ultimately make her dinner, she surmised with no small amount of irony.
Too close for comfort was an appropriately over used saying but so was evil as sin and both applied well enough here. A shudder rippling through her as she did her best to pull away from his intrusive nose and mouth--without much success--the minimal twinge from the breakage of skin made her bite back very un-princess-like words...possibly a muted expression of pain though she'd sooner die than admit that.
"I would be more concerned about there being anything left of you," she replied sharply. "Release me at once, though doing so will not spare you anything."
Parts of this princess deal seemed to be blurring slightly on her suddenly: what kingdom was this? Hold on, she didn't wear dresses like this.
But then the 'reality' of the fairytale thrust upon her would solidify again and the back-and-forth did nothing for her peace of mind in this situation to begin with. It wasn't like she needed the distraction.
--
Her threats were background music to his more primal thoughts as his squinted gaze closed in on the blood, black in the moonlight, against her skin. Oil on snow, as it were. How late was it? As the normal Gin cared little for time, so did he. He was only somewhat aware of the extremely slow receeding of his tail into his coccyx.
"If you ain't gonna spare me, why should I release you?" Gin questioned, mockery dancing at the edges of his words. He would never tease outright - not even in this form - but it still hung in the air, a soft harmony lurking beneath sinuous notes. "I'm so hungry. Forgive me if I dip into the entree before the appetizer."
There was almost a tenderness to the kiss he pressed to the cut he had inflicted, almost as if he had intended to soothe. His stomach tightened, bringing to mind a forgotten hunger that had nothing to do with food. Basic needs were sated first, though, and he dropped pretense and sunk his teeth into her throat. Her skin gave way immediately, soft and warm. Blood flooded his mouth, dripping from his lips, and burning all the way down.
His bite was shallow, but probably would have been less so had midnight not struck exactly then. One by one, his senses dulled as if someone had draped a blanket over him. He felt dirty, and while the thought didn't bother him before, it certainly did now. And while he was hungry, he certainly wasn't craving flesh. Kuchiki was still in his arms and he knew he had goaded her there, but this was not what he had intended - or was it?
Gin pulled away, his grip slackening and his lips pressed into a thin line.
--
Midnight didn't arrive soon enough. Her first realization was that she was not where she was supposed to be. Her second thought was that Gin stood before her with a bloody mouth looking entirely nonplussed and while this wasn't exactly a new look for him, Rukia had the distinct feeling that for once even he was cut for a loss. Warmth trailing down her neck, she pressed a hand to it only to have it come away, just as bloodied. Well, no point in asking, she thought darkly and, shunpo possible once more, made a hasty escape.
It was not difficult to suppose what had been going on and while her usual fear of Ichimaru Gin had yet to be conquered, in this instant all she felt was anger with herself and The City and its stupid curses.
There was no excuse for running to an enemy but The City made excuses obsolete even in concept. There was no logic. There was no way to account for the absolute absurdity of it all.
And she hated that nearly as much as the backseat anxiety in her mind of the ever dreaded 'What if?'
What if it happened again? What if it happened to someone else? What if?
She arrived back at the apartment in silence, slipping into the bathroom to patch herself up, taking inordinate comfort in that she could at least do that without thinking and nothing strange would be happening.
I hate him, she thought but even the thought was a quiet one, brow furrowed as she shuffled around for gauze and retreated to her room.
Stupid city.
With any luck, no one would remember anything in the morning, but from what she had seen, that wasn't necessarily how any of the curses worked...that would be too easy after all.
Rating; PG-13 [for light gore, intense situations and innuendo].
Characters; Ichimaru Gin [
ginocidal] and Kuchiki Rukia [wingstock].Summary; The "Big Bad Wolf" invites "Princess Rukia" to the woods to examine his gold.
Log;
Her first day of being cursed, Rukia was only half aware of her real self, the rest taken or, if you will, swept off her feet and away from her, replaced by a primary case of Pretty-Pretty-Princess, minus the plastic jewelry and twice the royal pomp. It was, perhaps, the only time in her life so far--and probably ever--that she gave off the first perceived and often noted Kuchiki air.
Which was really just a half-polite way to say: stuck up beyond all reason.
Donning an uncharacteristically pink gown of true fairytale make, she made her way to the woods, not far at all as it turned out, which was one point in this strange man's favor. Something about him seemed to tell her to stay away, something that said: you know better. Unfortunately the Princess in her had taken over entirely and she opted for a fiercer stance that should anything happen to her while going to acquire more riches for herself, the perpetrator would be beheaded at best, quartered and drawn at not best, and well, at worst?
She would think of something to tell her father to have done to the heinous brute.
Until then, she considered herself on a gold hunt, a treasure gathering even. If he was going to sell it anyway, she had the money to buy these things, one of the perks of richness, Rukia supposed as she exhaled roughly, hair blowing out of her face as she walked deeper into the woods. It was an option to call out, but without a name, she wasn't certain how a vague call would do anyone much good at all, and so she refrained.
"Peasant," she muttered under her breath, peering around trees and being slightly more than weirded out by the various forest sounds. Princesses generally didn't do this sort of thing, she thought to herself unhappily, but she was here already and that was that.
--
Gin had heard rumor of these so-called curses, but in true Gin nature, he didn't concern himself over them. He had been completely confident that he would have been able to dodge anything too unfortunate...and while this current curse wasn't exactly inconvenient, it did put a spin on the typical Gin persona. He had few inhibitions to begin with, but he had never been particularly hedonistic. Well, yes, he pursued his pleasures, but never before had his pleasures been so...pressing.
He smelled her before he heard her sure steps and he heard her sure steps before he actually saw her. He hadn't been lying before; her smell was alluring; sweet, fresh, bitter and cold. Exactly like her reiatsu. Indeed, the two had seemed to merge into one irresistible force bound and determined to draw him near. Maybe it was the princess thing. Maybe it was his natural desire to own, to destroy anything and everything delicate. But most likely, it was sheer hunger.
Finding the gold had been simple enough. With the arrival of this curse, treasure had appeared everywhere and anywhere dark and forboding. In a cave, in this case. Luckily, Gin was far darker and more forboding than anything the forest had to offer.
At her harsh whisper, he stepped out from behind a brush. Dirt streaked his bare torso. In the mottled moonlight, his hair was nearly platinum, sticking up at every odd angle. His smile bared just the slightest hint of bloodied fang, the red still lining his lips. More importantly though, gold hung from his neck, his fingers, and in a circlet around his head and his curious wolf ears. His goblet was filled to the brim with red something. Blood or wine?
His tail wagged.
"Princess! Are these to your liking? I'll have 'em sterilized before I give 'em to you, o'course. I know you won't wanna bother with them with my peasant stink all over 'em."
--
She wrinkled her nose at him and turned it down at him soon after. How primitive, but she could hardly expect more than that from the likes of a wolf. Rukia had heard some stories, though these were really fragmented bits of nursery rhyme, and she imagined she had a fair idea what this Gin was about. The very well locked away part of her that was not cursed wanted to materialize as a double and slap herself out of this fairytale nonsense, but the curse was as effective as she had seen them to be since her arrival to The City, and this one conveniently made her princess position of some unknown kingdom with a frog prince requesting an audience her foremost persona.
It startled her initially to hear him reply, for she had only whispered it, thinking none to be afoot so nearby, but she quickly composed herself again, rolling her shoulders back slightly and lifting her chin in a way typical of the noble and born to the wealthy.
"Sterilization can be taken care of at the palace, though I require you place those in a bag for me, for I'll not carry them directly by hand, of course," she said, watching him carefully, some part of him edging a feeling of intimidation and dread in her, though she thought herself entirely unfamiliar with these types of feelings prior to this meeting. It unsettled her to say the least, how the air seemed heavy and curious around him, more so even than the would-be disturbing sight of possibly bloodied teeth and a goblet of who knew what.
A princess she was but her stomach still proved strong enough, even if the creep-factor here was rising at an accelerated rate.
"If you will be so kind," she nearly rolled her eyes here but continued evenly, "To bag those, peasant, you will be compensated and I shall take my leave of you."
--
He was affected far less than she. Desires and predatory senses were augmented, but he still retained some judgement, whereas Rukia seemed to have none. He still remembered her, his need to taunt her in whatever form - and perhaps an urging past that, one he paid no mind to in normal circumstances.
"Of course. Whatever the princess desires." He replied silkily, methodically removing the pieces one by one and depositing them into a nearby burlap sack. Exactly when it had appeared was unknown. "You're gonna want to examine these, aren't ya?" Gin paused, holding the circlet before slowly extending it to her in silent invitation.
"And what sorta compensation can I be expectin' here?"
He lifted his brows in question as he sipped from his goblet, licking away the excess from lips before emptying the piece and setting it aside.
--
"Coins, a title, whatever you want really, it's not like it matters all that much," she waved off his question and expression as she considered the items he went to place in the sack. Trues, she didn't want to award this peasant nothing if the treasure was worthless, but to ascertain its caliber, she had to touch it, and it had yet to be properly cleaned.
The idea was not wholly appealing, and yet she would not be had for a fool. She had heard--or on this cursed day imagined she had heard--tales of those who were duped by false traders and she had no desire to be counted amongst their much laughed at numbers. Sighing, she shook her head at him, ignoring the way he drank from the goblet, ignoring everything about him that insinuated the darker parts of fairy tale worlds she had never quite approached before.
"Give it here then," she said at last, stepping forward again and grasping the proffered circlet.
--
He released the circlet into her possession, watching her with quiet interest. She still had the fire of the original Kuchiki and the holier-than-thou air, but both had been amplified to the point where she was near unbearable. Apparently, she wasn't from the fairy tales where the princess sang to animals and lived amongst her "people".
As she took the circlet, he brushed his roughened fingers - paw pads? - against her knuckles. Her skin was softer than it looked, but this was likely due to the curse. The authentic Kuchiki Rukia would be rough from work and battle, as any shinigami would be.
"Whatever I want, you say....?"
His shunpo still worked, the fact obvious as he disappeared and reappeared behind her in a blur and a soft brush of wind. His hands closed over hers, the entirety of his chest pressed to her back. Gin easily peered over her head, staring down at the circlet. Her scent was almost dizzying - he could smell her discomfort.
"The better the quality, the better the prize, right?" He whispered into her ear, head bowed. "Note the detailing on the edges...."
--
Rolling her eyes again, she replied impatiently, "That is what I said--" but she got no further with her irritation as he disappeared and then reappeared, but behind her and far too close for comfort or propriety. She went rigid from her toes to the top of her spine at the contact, the princess in her repelling from the root of indignant offense, and the normal Rukia part of her reeling and repelling from the root of her yet untamed fear of this man who rarely opened his eyes and even more rarely spoke truths.
Normalized in light of curse day except for her suddenly quite royal bloodline, Rukia could not have used shunpo if she wanted--and want she would have, had she remembered what shunpo was--and the silken gown left no proper place for a zanpakutou to rest. That said, she was indeed not the princess of the forest who sang with animals or was necessarily nice in any way--ask the frog--and she was not above smacking this fool with the circlet they both held. She tried to wrest her hand away in the same instant that he chose to whisper at her, which she found not only improper but...unsettling to a deep-seated degree, causing a grudging tremble in her that she felt hum through her.
"I see that quite well enough without your assistance," she hinted and in case the subtlety was lost on him she attempted to tug the circlet away from him again, also turning to face him, if at an awkward angle still refusing to relinquish what she considered, rather haughtily, her possession now.
--
The adrenaline of the hunt pulsed through him. Deer, rabbit, racoon, or human, there was still that inexorable thrill that drove him to hunt and kill again. Though he would have a bit of fun with her first.
She turned toward him and quickly, he wrapped a long arm about her waist, pinning her close. Despite his lanky appearances, there was undeniable strength in his grip, in his sudden rigidity against her. The muscles of his arms jumped beneath his skin in anticipation. With one squeeze of his arm, he could completely shatter her. The knowledge of his own power was heady indeed.
"So you see how nice my product is?" Gin drawled, first gripping her chin with his free hand, then dragging his fingers down the side of her face, smearing dirt along her cheek. "I think I know what I want my reward to be." Now, his hands tickled her throat and collarbone, slithering back to grasp the nape of her neck. His upper lip curled, fangs revealed in full.
--
Rukia had the sudden vivid image of snakes, of coils, of that intensely familiar sense of slithering not just around her neck, but around what felt like her entire being and while it served to shock her into a perfect stillness, it went as fast as it came and quite suddenly she was only aware, in true princess fashion, how obscene this was.
Well, not cursed Rukia would have considered it obscene too, but for many other different reasons.
His hold was strong, and while as a shinigami in full she might have had hope of slipping out and using shunpo to get out of this quickly darkening situation, the very human princess he had in his grasp had to settle for a vehement struggle she quickly understood she would not win, not accounting for something unexpected or supernatural, which might save her yet.
Though she did hate the idea of being saved.
People serving her, gifts for her, the world at her feet, these things the princess entertained daily, or so Rukia had false memory of entertaining.
Being accosted by what she now admitted was a badly trusted character and, perhaps most offensively, having dirt smeared across her face like some common thing, well, that was nothing she entertained ever, princess or not.
Turning her face away as sharply and as much as possible, she considered biting his fingers off as they brushed her nape, inciting an involuntary flinch.
"You will regret this, common filth," she both warned and insulted, body pinned in his strange hold but able to manage a decent kick to his shins.
It was, she reasoned with a deep scowl, better than doing nothing.
--
At her kick, his smile fluttered for the barest of seconds before returning with a vengeance, the harshest lines of her face shown in their fullest glory. In that moment, there was no questioning the animal within. And then it fell away, returning to his usual expression of the deepest serenity. Still, he grasped her hair, tugging her head back in a sharp pull.
"Common filth. Ya keep callin' me a peasant, but I wonder...who's at whose mercy now?"
He nuzzled his nose against the pale skin of her throat, savouring the faint scent of blood beneath. How would she taste? Gin guessed salty and bitter with a hint of spice. No matter how much pink she wore, the truth of Rukia's bristly ego remained. She would taste to match. His ears pressed back against his hair.
"Maybe I will regret this...if there's enough of ya left to tattle on me."
Mouth opening wide, he grazed his fangs against her neck. Blood beaded immediately, catching on the tip of his teeth. He ran his tongue along his chops with relish. A bit more iron than he'd predicted.
--
The flinch from before was a definitive tremble that ran through her entire body this time, part well ignored fear, part physical revulsion, part automatic dislike, and still, part something else, annoyance probably,because she was proud enough to refuse to show him any shame. This part of her action her dormant normal self would appreciate, though said dormant normal self would never have gotten into this in the first place. Gin was trouble, curse or no curse and on any regular day she knew that, but as misfortune would have it, not this day.
"You, I can assure you, will have no mercy whatsoever when we are through," she promised and threatened all in one.
This day she was a princess in a stupid dress with a stupid frog asking her for a stupid kiss and a not so stupid but very unwanted wolf trying to...do something, ultimately make her dinner, she surmised with no small amount of irony.
Too close for comfort was an appropriately over used saying but so was evil as sin and both applied well enough here. A shudder rippling through her as she did her best to pull away from his intrusive nose and mouth--without much success--the minimal twinge from the breakage of skin made her bite back very un-princess-like words...possibly a muted expression of pain though she'd sooner die than admit that.
"I would be more concerned about there being anything left of you," she replied sharply. "Release me at once, though doing so will not spare you anything."
Parts of this princess deal seemed to be blurring slightly on her suddenly: what kingdom was this? Hold on, she didn't wear dresses like this.
But then the 'reality' of the fairytale thrust upon her would solidify again and the back-and-forth did nothing for her peace of mind in this situation to begin with. It wasn't like she needed the distraction.
--
Her threats were background music to his more primal thoughts as his squinted gaze closed in on the blood, black in the moonlight, against her skin. Oil on snow, as it were. How late was it? As the normal Gin cared little for time, so did he. He was only somewhat aware of the extremely slow receeding of his tail into his coccyx.
"If you ain't gonna spare me, why should I release you?" Gin questioned, mockery dancing at the edges of his words. He would never tease outright - not even in this form - but it still hung in the air, a soft harmony lurking beneath sinuous notes. "I'm so hungry. Forgive me if I dip into the entree before the appetizer."
There was almost a tenderness to the kiss he pressed to the cut he had inflicted, almost as if he had intended to soothe. His stomach tightened, bringing to mind a forgotten hunger that had nothing to do with food. Basic needs were sated first, though, and he dropped pretense and sunk his teeth into her throat. Her skin gave way immediately, soft and warm. Blood flooded his mouth, dripping from his lips, and burning all the way down.
His bite was shallow, but probably would have been less so had midnight not struck exactly then. One by one, his senses dulled as if someone had draped a blanket over him. He felt dirty, and while the thought didn't bother him before, it certainly did now. And while he was hungry, he certainly wasn't craving flesh. Kuchiki was still in his arms and he knew he had goaded her there, but this was not what he had intended - or was it?
Gin pulled away, his grip slackening and his lips pressed into a thin line.
--
Midnight didn't arrive soon enough. Her first realization was that she was not where she was supposed to be. Her second thought was that Gin stood before her with a bloody mouth looking entirely nonplussed and while this wasn't exactly a new look for him, Rukia had the distinct feeling that for once even he was cut for a loss. Warmth trailing down her neck, she pressed a hand to it only to have it come away, just as bloodied. Well, no point in asking, she thought darkly and, shunpo possible once more, made a hasty escape.
It was not difficult to suppose what had been going on and while her usual fear of Ichimaru Gin had yet to be conquered, in this instant all she felt was anger with herself and The City and its stupid curses.
There was no excuse for running to an enemy but The City made excuses obsolete even in concept. There was no logic. There was no way to account for the absolute absurdity of it all.
And she hated that nearly as much as the backseat anxiety in her mind of the ever dreaded 'What if?'
What if it happened again? What if it happened to someone else? What if?
She arrived back at the apartment in silence, slipping into the bathroom to patch herself up, taking inordinate comfort in that she could at least do that without thinking and nothing strange would be happening.
I hate him, she thought but even the thought was a quiet one, brow furrowed as she shuffled around for gauze and retreated to her room.
Stupid city.
With any luck, no one would remember anything in the morning, but from what she had seen, that wasn't necessarily how any of the curses worked...that would be too easy after all.