Sousuke Aizen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theedgeofreason) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
spira_rp2013-04-24 03:10 pm
theedgeofreason) wrote in spira_rp2013-04-24 03:10 pm
While tyrants close the doors.
The past few weeks had, for Aizen at least, been somewhat trying.
The publicity he had been expected to deal with following the fall of Midgar had been an inevitable chore. Due to his position in the Gotei 13, pledges had to be made to help Bancour during its time of crisis. Wholesale destruction could quite easily breed scores of Hollows and it was Aizen's sworn duty, and that of his men, to eradicate them whenever they reared their bone-masked heads. Bancour was far, far out of his jurisdiction that was true, but there was no harm in proving that the Gotei 13 recognised no borders when it came to its collective dedication to its work. At the same time, he had been obligated to sit in on meetings with Archadian political giants concerning the delicate state of peace in the aftermath. To nobody's great surprise, and certainly not to Aizen's, The Archadian Empire had been the first to come under suspicion. Accusations, both the plausible and the far-fetched, had come thick and fast in the wake of the collapse. Even weeks after the incident some tempers were still running high, but nothing could be proved until Midgar was safe to examine.
Aizen's privileged position gave him access to Midgar's status reports and, while Bancouri officials had lobbied to keep them out of Archadian hands, Aizen's insistence that he have them when he was to be sending in his own men in to a potential Necrohol to aid Captain Komamura's already thinly stretched forces eventually resulted in the necessary papers crossing his desk. That all lands in the vicinity of the inner-city were considered too heavily poisoned by high concentrations of leaked Mako was certainly encouraging.
All in all, it had been an interesting change from the curious state of limbo that had reigned ever since Nabudis had accidentally been reduced to a blasted ruin and the Greenlands around it, now known as the Deadlands, to a smoking wasteland. Even so, dealing with manpower allocation and sitting on a council made of members trying by turns to and not to affix the word 'war' to the fore of it had taken their toll. After many packed days and what felt like even more sleepless nights, Aizen had been obvious about growing weary of it all and openly yielded to exhaustion. At the first opportunity, he had taken a few days leave and bid his Lieutenant deal with his duties in his stead. With no rest for the wicked, a phrase that had turned out to be truer than he had thought possible, Aizen clandestinely returned to the Desert Palace of Clan Khamja to deal with unfinished matters there.
The atmosphere in the Palace was much as it had been when he had left. Some things remained unchanged others ... well, they were quite different. Zexion, the Ryoka Alchemist, had made a full recovery where his exhaustion was concerned, but Aizen had been informed that the boy had not said a single word since waking and had spent most of his time holed up in his quarters. He had dealt with very few matters across phonelines, but he had sent word to ensure that Zexion was not to be informed of the new faces on the side of their enemies ahead of his return. He had made it clear that any Arrancar found breaking this order would find themselves dealing with the consequences. Nnoitra had, from what he had been told, kept himself well out of the way. Aizen was glad of this -- it minimised the chances of one of his more unruly Arrancar coming face to face with the subordinates of the man he had helped murder. Grimmjow and Neliel were doing as well as could be expected, her more than him. Luppi, to nobody's great surprise, was slow to recover from the injuries he had sustained at the hands of the Ryoka Berserker. He was considered to be out of danger, but he was still currently immobile and his moments of conscious lucidity were few and brief.
What had really nettled Aizen upon his return were whispers, whispers all too soon confirmed, that another of his Arrancar had struck out at a full-member of the Clan. He would have expected such of the rash, hot-headed members of his mismatched band of underlings, people like Nnoitra, who had already proved he could, Grimmjow who had as well, the Fracción Apache who was, as far as he was concerned, only biding her time. Even Szayel, albeit in a fashion less ... traditional than those, was not above suspicion. The name he had been given was a surprise to him. It shouldn't have been, especially not given past behaviour or the current state of affairs, but it had nonetheless given him pause.
Ulquiorra had attacked L and, from what he had been told, the preceding argument had taken place entirely in Old Rozarrian -- a language none of the witnesses could profess to speak. L had recovered, for a given value of recovery, and was up and about contrary to recommendation. He maintained that the altercation was one that concerned only blood, not the Clan, and Aizen had not been brought before Illua to answer for the crimes of his subordinate. In the end, Aizen only found himself disappointed that Ulquiorra had shown mercy. He, like Nnoitra, had been unsurprisingly absent following the incident.
Aizen resolved to speak to him on the matter, but it would have to wait until more pressing affairs had been attended to. The meeting, the debriefing put off following the mission itself, was still to be conducted. All of his Arrancar were expected to attend, even those in disgrace, though Luppi was to be the notable exception. L would undoubtedly be there regardless of the inevitable friction between him and his nephew, the presence of Zexion was assured and Gin Ichimaru had said, with his characteristic smile, that he wouldn't miss it for the world. He had even gone so far as to suggest that Marluxia, one of Khamja's older Ryoka recruits, also be present. The unknowns allied with the Berserker could easily be Ryoka, Gin had pointed out. Some of the files L had recovered from Midgar had certainly suggested such. With Zexion having been deliberately kept in the dark and Marluxia not yet up to date with the situation, they were unlikely to both be able to stifle reactions as to conceal a truth, should they attempt to do so. There was wisdom in the suggestion, and so Aizen had consented to it.
With the attendees decided, orders in the guise of invites had been sent out.
The publicity he had been expected to deal with following the fall of Midgar had been an inevitable chore. Due to his position in the Gotei 13, pledges had to be made to help Bancour during its time of crisis. Wholesale destruction could quite easily breed scores of Hollows and it was Aizen's sworn duty, and that of his men, to eradicate them whenever they reared their bone-masked heads. Bancour was far, far out of his jurisdiction that was true, but there was no harm in proving that the Gotei 13 recognised no borders when it came to its collective dedication to its work. At the same time, he had been obligated to sit in on meetings with Archadian political giants concerning the delicate state of peace in the aftermath. To nobody's great surprise, and certainly not to Aizen's, The Archadian Empire had been the first to come under suspicion. Accusations, both the plausible and the far-fetched, had come thick and fast in the wake of the collapse. Even weeks after the incident some tempers were still running high, but nothing could be proved until Midgar was safe to examine.
Aizen's privileged position gave him access to Midgar's status reports and, while Bancouri officials had lobbied to keep them out of Archadian hands, Aizen's insistence that he have them when he was to be sending in his own men in to a potential Necrohol to aid Captain Komamura's already thinly stretched forces eventually resulted in the necessary papers crossing his desk. That all lands in the vicinity of the inner-city were considered too heavily poisoned by high concentrations of leaked Mako was certainly encouraging.
All in all, it had been an interesting change from the curious state of limbo that had reigned ever since Nabudis had accidentally been reduced to a blasted ruin and the Greenlands around it, now known as the Deadlands, to a smoking wasteland. Even so, dealing with manpower allocation and sitting on a council made of members trying by turns to and not to affix the word 'war' to the fore of it had taken their toll. After many packed days and what felt like even more sleepless nights, Aizen had been obvious about growing weary of it all and openly yielded to exhaustion. At the first opportunity, he had taken a few days leave and bid his Lieutenant deal with his duties in his stead. With no rest for the wicked, a phrase that had turned out to be truer than he had thought possible, Aizen clandestinely returned to the Desert Palace of Clan Khamja to deal with unfinished matters there.
The atmosphere in the Palace was much as it had been when he had left. Some things remained unchanged others ... well, they were quite different. Zexion, the Ryoka Alchemist, had made a full recovery where his exhaustion was concerned, but Aizen had been informed that the boy had not said a single word since waking and had spent most of his time holed up in his quarters. He had dealt with very few matters across phonelines, but he had sent word to ensure that Zexion was not to be informed of the new faces on the side of their enemies ahead of his return. He had made it clear that any Arrancar found breaking this order would find themselves dealing with the consequences. Nnoitra had, from what he had been told, kept himself well out of the way. Aizen was glad of this -- it minimised the chances of one of his more unruly Arrancar coming face to face with the subordinates of the man he had helped murder. Grimmjow and Neliel were doing as well as could be expected, her more than him. Luppi, to nobody's great surprise, was slow to recover from the injuries he had sustained at the hands of the Ryoka Berserker. He was considered to be out of danger, but he was still currently immobile and his moments of conscious lucidity were few and brief.
What had really nettled Aizen upon his return were whispers, whispers all too soon confirmed, that another of his Arrancar had struck out at a full-member of the Clan. He would have expected such of the rash, hot-headed members of his mismatched band of underlings, people like Nnoitra, who had already proved he could, Grimmjow who had as well, the Fracción Apache who was, as far as he was concerned, only biding her time. Even Szayel, albeit in a fashion less ... traditional than those, was not above suspicion. The name he had been given was a surprise to him. It shouldn't have been, especially not given past behaviour or the current state of affairs, but it had nonetheless given him pause.
Ulquiorra had attacked L and, from what he had been told, the preceding argument had taken place entirely in Old Rozarrian -- a language none of the witnesses could profess to speak. L had recovered, for a given value of recovery, and was up and about contrary to recommendation. He maintained that the altercation was one that concerned only blood, not the Clan, and Aizen had not been brought before Illua to answer for the crimes of his subordinate. In the end, Aizen only found himself disappointed that Ulquiorra had shown mercy. He, like Nnoitra, had been unsurprisingly absent following the incident.
Aizen resolved to speak to him on the matter, but it would have to wait until more pressing affairs had been attended to. The meeting, the debriefing put off following the mission itself, was still to be conducted. All of his Arrancar were expected to attend, even those in disgrace, though Luppi was to be the notable exception. L would undoubtedly be there regardless of the inevitable friction between him and his nephew, the presence of Zexion was assured and Gin Ichimaru had said, with his characteristic smile, that he wouldn't miss it for the world. He had even gone so far as to suggest that Marluxia, one of Khamja's older Ryoka recruits, also be present. The unknowns allied with the Berserker could easily be Ryoka, Gin had pointed out. Some of the files L had recovered from Midgar had certainly suggested such. With Zexion having been deliberately kept in the dark and Marluxia not yet up to date with the situation, they were unlikely to both be able to stifle reactions as to conceal a truth, should they attempt to do so. There was wisdom in the suggestion, and so Aizen had consented to it.
With the attendees decided, orders in the guise of invites had been sent out.
no subject
"In your dreams," he said, getting comfortable, or at least as comfortable as a seat on the floor and lingering injuries allowed.
no subject
He looked up at her, vaguely perplexed, and asked, simply, "What?"
no subject
no subject
"That offer was not made to you," he pointed out, giving the girl a hard shove to get her back off the chair.
no subject
"You think I'm gonna sit on the floor?" She snapped.
no subject
Doing the 'gentlemanly' thing and letting the chick sit down had its merits ... at least with that in mind.
no subject
"Hah!" He laughed, looking at Szayel with a cruel grin on his face. "Like anyone else was gonna take you up on the offer."
no subject
"I've got a lap if you want it?" He offered, with a bit of a grin.
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Sure," she said, leaning forward, one hand on the arm of his chair.
no subject
"Y'should be more specific in future," Gin said, watching Szayel through slitted eyes. "How was Lilinette supposed to know you didn't mean her?"
He knew full well how, but he did so enjoy winding Szayel up anyway -- he and Lilinette had that in common.
no subject
no subject
Pity she didn't speak Al Bhed, then.
no subject
"You sound grumpy, do you need a hug?" She asked, with a bright smile directed at Szayel.
no subject
She had no reason to be surprised at his reaction -- he was a guy after all. She was though. Just a touch.
When he didn't immediately move, she glared at him for good measure.
no subject
If she was going to persist in irritating people for her own entertainment, she would have to learn to fight her corner when she pushed it too far or things got a little hairy.
no subject
no subject
no subject