Kindness can only get you so far
Jan. 9th, 2019 01:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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spira_rpBellatrix's lip curled.
Khamja were a convenience. A way to keep an eye on what the rest of the world was up to. The world had become more global; ripples in Archades were felt in the Union. If you could call it a Union. It was a hodgepodge of city states, each wanting autonomy, and protection from each other and everyone outside of them. The Union, such as it was, kept a finely tuned balance. Together they were stronger, it dictated, and no one within the Union would attack each other or they'd get a rap across the proverbial knuckles. It also dictated trade terms between the cities, and the rest of Spira.
Nagapur didn't need the Union, and it certainly didn't need to trade with the mudbloods and other filth on the lowerworld. The fact that things happening down there among the rabble had led to Khamja putting a call out for all members to attend a meeting riled her. Why should she care what a bunch of blood traitors and halfbreeds did?
And yet, with the whole world being so interconnected these days, including her beloved Nagapur, it could have implications. Some Gotei Captain had got himself imprisoned on false charges. That was of little interest to Bellatrix. The ramifications, however, the potential for it to be fodder for a war on the lowerworld, a sign of rising tensions between two opposing countries spilling over to ensnare someone politically impartial - though not, she'd heard, unbiased - was interesting. If war broke out on the lowerworld, Jylland could profit.
Anything that furthered Nagapur's interests was of interest to Bellatrix. Even though it necessitated traveling among the filth.
It had been a comfortable flight down to Rabanastre. Bellatrix didn't see the point in being frugal with her travel expenses. Her family were old, and wealthy, and if she was forced to show herself among the plebeians and halfbreeds, she was going to get to them in private quarters on a comfortable airship.
Rabanastre itself was filled with sand, and the stench of sweating bodies, and so many sub-hume creatures it made her nauseous. The idea that one of them might have touched her bags made her blood boil. She'd have to count everything when she finally got to the Desert Palace Khamja called home.
Things got worse when she was met by the envoy from Khamja that was collecting her. He was a mudblood that smiled so much she couldn't see his eyes, and something about his attitude felt as if he was mocking her even though he spoke politely enough. His accent and his manner set her teeth on edge as much as his hair.
They'd sent a filthy mudblood to collect her. Her. Of all the insults they could have devised, that was the worst. It was an unforgivable offence.
She exchanged as few words with him as possible, and vowed to wait until she found a respectable pureblood to ask what questions she might have. She only hoped they'd been more thoughtful about her accommodation, and had ensured she had a suite as far away from the filth as possible.
There was yet more sand between their destination and Bellatrix when they finally stopped in a great cavern under the ground. A plethora of airships were parked neatly, but airships only meant dirty halfbreeds and sub-hume things like Al Bhed might be lurking. The lowerworld was rife with them, and in need of a thorough purge.
The mudblood that had ferried her here left her with vague directions, and a warning not to step off the route lest the cavern's monsters find her.
Bellatrix didn't have much hope for the accommodation either when she reached the door. Nestled in the rock it was unassuming, but heavily magically warded. At least someone around here knew what they were doing.
The door opened for her, leading her into a small corridor that caused her further displeasure. Her bags tugged along behind her, hovering on a simple float spell and propelled by her wand.
The next door opened out into a much more spacious and lavishly decorated hallway. She glanced around. It would have been impressive had it not been for the fact that this Palace was inhabited by disgusting half breeds, and blood traitors, and mudbloods, and worse. She could feel their presences etched into the walls, so strong she could practically smell them.
She guided her bags through and set them down just ahead of her.
They knew she was here. They'd been expecting her. Courtesy would have someone coming to meet her inside, too.
Khamja were a convenience. A way to keep an eye on what the rest of the world was up to. The world had become more global; ripples in Archades were felt in the Union. If you could call it a Union. It was a hodgepodge of city states, each wanting autonomy, and protection from each other and everyone outside of them. The Union, such as it was, kept a finely tuned balance. Together they were stronger, it dictated, and no one within the Union would attack each other or they'd get a rap across the proverbial knuckles. It also dictated trade terms between the cities, and the rest of Spira.
Nagapur didn't need the Union, and it certainly didn't need to trade with the mudbloods and other filth on the lowerworld. The fact that things happening down there among the rabble had led to Khamja putting a call out for all members to attend a meeting riled her. Why should she care what a bunch of blood traitors and halfbreeds did?
And yet, with the whole world being so interconnected these days, including her beloved Nagapur, it could have implications. Some Gotei Captain had got himself imprisoned on false charges. That was of little interest to Bellatrix. The ramifications, however, the potential for it to be fodder for a war on the lowerworld, a sign of rising tensions between two opposing countries spilling over to ensnare someone politically impartial - though not, she'd heard, unbiased - was interesting. If war broke out on the lowerworld, Jylland could profit.
Anything that furthered Nagapur's interests was of interest to Bellatrix. Even though it necessitated traveling among the filth.
It had been a comfortable flight down to Rabanastre. Bellatrix didn't see the point in being frugal with her travel expenses. Her family were old, and wealthy, and if she was forced to show herself among the plebeians and halfbreeds, she was going to get to them in private quarters on a comfortable airship.
Rabanastre itself was filled with sand, and the stench of sweating bodies, and so many sub-hume creatures it made her nauseous. The idea that one of them might have touched her bags made her blood boil. She'd have to count everything when she finally got to the Desert Palace Khamja called home.
Things got worse when she was met by the envoy from Khamja that was collecting her. He was a mudblood that smiled so much she couldn't see his eyes, and something about his attitude felt as if he was mocking her even though he spoke politely enough. His accent and his manner set her teeth on edge as much as his hair.
They'd sent a filthy mudblood to collect her. Her. Of all the insults they could have devised, that was the worst. It was an unforgivable offence.
She exchanged as few words with him as possible, and vowed to wait until she found a respectable pureblood to ask what questions she might have. She only hoped they'd been more thoughtful about her accommodation, and had ensured she had a suite as far away from the filth as possible.
There was yet more sand between their destination and Bellatrix when they finally stopped in a great cavern under the ground. A plethora of airships were parked neatly, but airships only meant dirty halfbreeds and sub-hume things like Al Bhed might be lurking. The lowerworld was rife with them, and in need of a thorough purge.
The mudblood that had ferried her here left her with vague directions, and a warning not to step off the route lest the cavern's monsters find her.
Bellatrix didn't have much hope for the accommodation either when she reached the door. Nestled in the rock it was unassuming, but heavily magically warded. At least someone around here knew what they were doing.
The door opened for her, leading her into a small corridor that caused her further displeasure. Her bags tugged along behind her, hovering on a simple float spell and propelled by her wand.
The next door opened out into a much more spacious and lavishly decorated hallway. She glanced around. It would have been impressive had it not been for the fact that this Palace was inhabited by disgusting half breeds, and blood traitors, and mudbloods, and worse. She could feel their presences etched into the walls, so strong she could practically smell them.
She guided her bags through and set them down just ahead of her.
They knew she was here. They'd been expecting her. Courtesy would have someone coming to meet her inside, too.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-13 09:00 pm (UTC)And the survival instincts of Szayel, especially if she really would go calling some of the people in Khamja filth just because they were mistants. Most of Khamja were mistants. Why would you even join Khamja if you weren't okay with mistants?
"Can't wait until she finds out about the Ryoka then," he muttered, quietly. It was an outside chance; they'd all been keeping pretty quiet about where they'd come from with the newcomers wandering in.
He sighed. It was at times like this he really wished Nel was here. If she wasn't so responsible, she wouldn't be off meeting Aizen, and she could think of what to do about Apache's mad auntie.
Not that they had to do anything, strictly speaking. "If she's a member they're going to know what she's like, and she's gotta know the rules," he pointed out. Like the biggie about not hurting other people's underlings. And the other biggie about the fact Khamja eats its own and not to expect membership to protect you from other members if you were a raging bitchbag.
Orochimaru had been the last one to ignore that rule.
"People here can take her, right?" She hadn't felt that strong, and sure, you could suppress the fuck out of your reiatsu, but that psycho didn't seem like someone that would. Actually she seemed like exactly the sort of person that would have squashed people under her reiatsu if she had the ability. "Why are you worried? We just need to tell the others to stay out of her way."
no subject
Date: 2019-01-15 02:40 pm (UTC)As she thought about that, it occurred to her that Nel would probably be less use in this situation than his outlook was. Bellatrix, of course, could be taken. The Arrancar, from top to bottom, were all likely to be able to take her out, they had the edge in terms of reiatsu and power and likely fighting ability too, but Bellatrix's spells of choice weren't based on raw power.
It would also help if Bellatrix ever followed rules.
"She's not exactly one for rules," Apache muttered. "She thinks she's above them. Everybody who doesn't fit into the exact niche she belongs to in Jyllandi society is either scum, or a peasant. She considers non-Humes to be animals, and I'm not talking about Bangaa. I mean ... you. She thinks I'm an abomination because I have the mildest possible Mist mutation, but her face when you touched me..."
She shook her head, looking up at him again.
"Raw power isn't what she does," she explained. "She's got ability more than vast Chakra reserves. She knows how to do serious damage with what she's got."
no subject
Date: 2019-01-15 09:11 pm (UTC)He got it, sort of. Apache's mad aunt was a blast from the past and a raging bitch, absolutely no family resemblance there, and really, really racist. Racist in a way people just weren't on Ivalice.
Yeah, people looked down on Al Bhed, and Bangaa, and Seeq, and everyone looked down on Selkies, but it wasn't like anyone thought the others were animals, just thieves, or violent, or swindlers, or greedy, or whatever. It was racism in the sense of everyone knowing the stereotypes.
Apache's auntie was the other kind of racist, that wasn't socially acceptable, and wouldn't live long in a clan full of the most dangerous people in all of Spira, most of whom were Mistants.
"Look, pnu," he said, shrugging his shoulders again and offering Apache a smile, "if she's that bad she won't live to make it back to Jylland." Touching someone else's subordinates was an Issue, although no one had really tested what would happen if you did it as far as Yylfordt knew. If Bellatrix wanted to be the first it might be a really big mistake.
"I mean, her versus Gin," he offered, "who's gonna win?"
no subject
Date: 2019-01-15 09:19 pm (UTC)That was her favourite. It was banned, of course. It had no redeeming uses and it was considered absolutely unforgivable if somebody put it to use. It was the single-spell version of a demontrap. Thoroughly unpleasant, useful only for causing pain. It was useless in battle, beyond slowing somebody down, and there were better ways to do that.
"She's not getting out of here without somebody doing her damage," she said. "She's going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person... not even Nel's method of killing her with kindness would work. She'd just dismiss Nel as a servant. She's all the bad parts of Hojo boiled down to a paste and boosted with psycho-racism."
With any luck, Apache thought, somebody will kill her.
"So long as she doesn't try to take me home," she said. "Speaking of, me listening in to Jyllandi conversations is fucked now. Bella's not going to let me get away with that in secret."
no subject
Date: 2019-01-15 09:48 pm (UTC)Hojo's worst bits boiled down and boosted with psycho racism did sound pretty bad though. It sounded like something Szayel might make by accident. But it also sounded like someone that definitely wasn't going to live long around here.
His ears pricked at Apache's next line, though, and any questions he had about other bits fell by the wayside. "You don't think she'd try and take you home, do you?" She'd have a fight on her hands if she did, but it still made Yylfordt consider things seriously for the first time in the whole conversation.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-15 11:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-16 07:21 pm (UTC)It wasn't as if someone would just be able to frogmarch an Arrancar home. They were Aizen's minions, for one, and about as free to leave as someone like Tayuya. They needed permission to leave from their boss.
Which made the fact that the Arrancar's boss was banged up a blessing and a curse. He wasn't going to be giving permission any time soon, but he also wasn't about to stop someone if they tried forcing an Arrancar to go somewhere.
"She'd have a fight," he grumbled. And not just from Apache. "Just chill out," he suggested, "stay out of her way. That damn meeting should be soon and she'll be gone again." He hoped. He really hoped. There were a few others that could leave in a hurry too.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-16 07:40 pm (UTC)Had anybody else told her to chill out, she'd probably have stabbed them, but it was just Yylfordt's normal casual manner. She could tolerate it, from him.
"Looks like I'm holing up in the Sunhouse for the foreseeable, then. You can be on snack duty, 'cos I'm not going anywhere near the kitchen if I risk seeing her."
She forced a grin.
It was a small victory if nothing else.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-17 02:54 pm (UTC)"Guess I'll have to deal with it," he grumbled, but flashed Apache a grin that was a bit more genuine than the one she'd managed to force out.
Hopefully they wouldn't be around for long anyway. This many Khamja members throwing their weight around was making the Palace feel a little crowded, and Yylfordt got the distinct impression that things were about to start feeling claustrophobic.