Since his fight with L, Ulquiorra had remained sequestered away in his room. He hadn't come out much, partly because of a desire to stay out of the way of gossips such as Szayel, who would inevitably press him with questions that Ulquiorra did not wish to answer, and partly to avoid running into L again. Ulquiorra did not wish to have another altercation with him right now.
His Hollow, Murciélago, had given him enough to occupy his time, regardless. The Hollow had requested his attention, over and over, until Ulquiorra had finally given it, and then it had mocked and needled at him. Ulquiorra was used to that, just as he was used to the Hollow knowing things Ulquiorra wished it didn't, and it had asked questions he had not wished to answer until it had finally got answers and then....
And then.
Ulquiorra trusted Murciélago less than he trusted Gin, less than he trusted L any more, and when it had offered something new, Ulquiorra had been wary. An offer, it had said, nothing more, a taster, temporary, the next time Ulquiorra faced something alone it would let him try it, and Ulquiorra, wary of the Hollow's tricks, more familiar with Murciélago's ways than anyone else on the whole of Spira, had agreed.
And then it had given him something else, for now. A token of faith. Something that could be useful; something he didn't have to be released to use. Ulquiorra could not trust other's words, couldn't trust the things he felt, but, the Hollow promised, he would always be able to trust the things he could see with his own eyes.
Then, because nothing Murciélago ever gave came without a trick, it had asked, in the privacy of Ulquiorra's own head, in the loneliness of his own room, if he trusted Aizen, and Ulquiorra had decided that he did not, with this.
The Hollow had laughed, because Ulquiorra was completely alone again now, in a way he hadn't been for a while. Just the two of them, it had said, for the rest of Ulquiorra's life.
When the summons to the debriefing had arrived, Ulquiorra was where he had been for most of his time since; sat in his room, reading a book he'd read before, quiet and unobtrusive. There'd be questions, he knew, about his behaviour. He'd be forced to explain, at least to Aizen-sama, but his altercation with L was not something he had any reason to hide.
He was one of the first to arrive in the parlour selected for the meeting, though that wasn't much of a surprise, and hands in his pockets, he quickly scanned the room, and then chose a spot to stand in, away from the centre of the room, and, he hoped, away from the centre of attention.
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Date: 2013-04-24 07:16 pm (UTC)His Hollow, Murciélago, had given him enough to occupy his time, regardless. The Hollow had requested his attention, over and over, until Ulquiorra had finally given it, and then it had mocked and needled at him. Ulquiorra was used to that, just as he was used to the Hollow knowing things Ulquiorra wished it didn't, and it had asked questions he had not wished to answer until it had finally got answers and then....
And then.
Ulquiorra trusted Murciélago less than he trusted Gin, less than he trusted L any more, and when it had offered something new, Ulquiorra had been wary. An offer, it had said, nothing more, a taster, temporary, the next time Ulquiorra faced something alone it would let him try it, and Ulquiorra, wary of the Hollow's tricks, more familiar with Murciélago's ways than anyone else on the whole of Spira, had agreed.
And then it had given him something else, for now. A token of faith. Something that could be useful; something he didn't have to be released to use. Ulquiorra could not trust other's words, couldn't trust the things he felt, but, the Hollow promised, he would always be able to trust the things he could see with his own eyes.
Then, because nothing Murciélago ever gave came without a trick, it had asked, in the privacy of Ulquiorra's own head, in the loneliness of his own room, if he trusted Aizen, and Ulquiorra had decided that he did not, with this.
The Hollow had laughed, because Ulquiorra was completely alone again now, in a way he hadn't been for a while. Just the two of them, it had said, for the rest of Ulquiorra's life.
When the summons to the debriefing had arrived, Ulquiorra was where he had been for most of his time since; sat in his room, reading a book he'd read before, quiet and unobtrusive. There'd be questions, he knew, about his behaviour. He'd be forced to explain, at least to Aizen-sama, but his altercation with L was not something he had any reason to hide.
He was one of the first to arrive in the parlour selected for the meeting, though that wasn't much of a surprise, and hands in his pockets, he quickly scanned the room, and then chose a spot to stand in, away from the centre of the room, and, he hoped, away from the centre of attention.