Sousuke Aizen (
theedgeofreason) wrote in
spira_rp2013-04-24 03:10 pm
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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
The range of reactions didn't surprise him in the least. Such an interesting array of people always promised a wide variety of responses to even the most ordinary situations and mundane pieces of information.
When it came to genocide on a large scale, anybody else might have expected horror to be the uniform reaction, but some of those who had every right to react with horror and dismay stayed as detached and stolid as ever.
Gin smiled, wondering how hard it must be for them to force themselves to remain that way in such terribly trying circumstances.
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Ulquiorra had been stood with his hands in his pockets and his head slightly bowed since he'd entered the room. He'd clamped down on his every reaction since L had followed, too, so when that news was given, there wasn't a flicker of response to be seen or felt from Ulquiorra.
No survivors.
Gongaga had left no survivors. What happened in Midgar may not have been the same, but with the reactors blowing, with the scale of the death and destruction, Ulquiorra knew it would have looked it.
He hadn't known anyone in Midgar. That was what made the difference. Ulquiorra hadn't lost anyone there, so those left behind by Aizen-sama's actions were none of Ulquiorra's concern, just as Ulquiorra had been in the concerns of none after Gongaga. Ulquiorra had sworn to follow Aizen-sama, to do as instructed without question, and without hesitation. Ulquiorra was simply a tool, and if he was used for the destruction of others, then it was not his place to question.
No survivors.
It didn't matter. Whether those people would have died for Aizen-sama's plans, or died old and peacefully in their beds, the end result is all the same. They would not have survived either way.
Like this, at least, they died for a purpose, even if it was not one of their choosing.
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She covered her mouth with the side of her hand, eyes downcast, doing her best to stifle her reaction, but it was hard. The news upset her. Midgar was a smoking hole in the ground, poisoned beyond safety; it would be generations before anything could live there again, and it was down to them, and the man they followed.
She tried to tell herself that Aizen knew what he was doing, but he'd walked away from it all with a rock that gave the wielder the ability to defy the very laws of nature, and that made her uncomfortable. Even if there was an excuse, some reason to have obliterated so many lives, nothing could make Nel comfortable with that.
And some of the people in this room.... Zexion hadn't said a single word since it had happened, Ulquiorra had been made to witness it, and Stark....
The repercussion of what they'd done to Midgar echoed right back into the room.
Nel shifted in her seat, and avoided looking directly at anyone while she forced herself to stop thinking about that.
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She stared at Aizen as he spoke, but she was more interested in the fact that the President had survived, and Shinra was still operating, than in the fact that they'd wiped out a city.
Everyone knew that anyway.
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He watched the other Arrancar, however, and Marluxia, who seemed as patiently perplexed as he had since Aizen had walked in, and noted their reactions, or lack thereof.
Ulquiorra, he found himself thinking, had no reaction to spare for here, because he'd spent it all on L's own face earlier.
He scratched at his knee, and watched Gin and Aizen watch the others.
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As it was, Szayel felt this was all preamble to where things would get interesting. It was hard to muster any reaction to a lot of distant dead people when Szayel had witnessed death much more closely than Midgar had been.
He'd like for Aizen to get to the part about the potential Ryoka already, since that was obviously why Marluxia was here.
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And now there was no one left.
He felt a faint tug on his sleeve, and glanced down, to see Apache looking up at him like she was thinking the same thing he was.
He looked away with a frown. Realising you might actually be the bad guys wasn't a comfortable feeling.
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"All of those who participated, or were given information regarding the mission without directly taking part, are aware of the information restrictions that have been imposed upon you." He looked at Zexion, his eyes hard and the subtle threat in his gaze unyielding. He didn't want to have to kill the boy. He could have further use for him even with the Philosopher's Stone having been forged, but if he turned out to be a liability ... well, Aizen would rid himself of that little problem without compunction.
He allowed himself a smile, a gentle little curve of the mouth that seemed entirely at odds with what he had just told them. He had spent enough time on the tedious necessities, it was time for him to reach the real point of the meeting.
"While the mission was, indeed, a success," he began carefully, weighing and measuring each word before it crossed his tongue for there was no room for error when addressing a group such as this, "it is what took place after Midgar that concerns me, and it is that which I wish to discuss with you all."
All information regarding the battle had been carefully kept from Zexion following his recovery. Marluxia, in addition, had only been told that a mission was going ahead and had gone to plan as a courtesy, as had the other members of Khamja who made use of the Palace on a regular basis. What he intended to tell them about the battle that followed was sure to be enlightening, and in more ways than one.
"After the mission's completion, my men separated into pre-designated groups to make their return to the Palace," he said, mostly for Marluxia's benefit. "One of those groups, a team consisting of four individuals with two of my top four Espada among them, happened upon a hostile group and engaged them in battle. Most of you are aware of this already, due in no small part to the injuries that they sustained during the course of the encounter. One of those involved is unable to attend this meeting on account of the damage he suffered and remains in the infirmary even now."
The Arrancar were widely known throughout Khamja as being powerful in their own right, even those that didn't happen to be ranked among the top three. While not all of them were assigned the numbers of their standing according to raw power, they were nonetheless all noted as being a force to be reckoned with. That some of them were hurt in the clash was significant enough, but that one still had not recovered was a point that was sure to stand out, even to those who didn't know them all on a personal level.
"One of the individuals involved on their side is well known to us thanks to prior confrontations," he looked at Grimmjow pointedly and ignored the flash of anger on the Espada's face. "I have been informed that a number of unusual abilities were employed during the course of the battle, some of which are of particular interest to me. Ulquiorra," he said, turning to the Arrancar in question, "if you would be so kind."
It was sheer luck that Ulquiorra had been with the group in question when the incident had took place. He alone had a useful, Hollow-bestowed ability that allowed a near-perfect replay of events that he had experienced and it was that which Aizen intended to use to his advantage today. The display would serve both to jog the memories of those involved and give insight to those who weren't present at the time, Aizen included. He had been informed first of two potential Ryoka, then given confirmation for one of those. In addition to that, he had been alerted to the use of a Limit Break that one of them should never have been able to employ.
Aizen rather hoped that, in one way or another, some light could be shed on the situation.
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However, when Aizen reached the part about the battle, Grimmjow started paying attention. He straightened up where he sat and glanced at Ulquiorra when Aizen addressed him. Wait, what? He wasn't seriously going to get that droning little toady to explain what had happened, right?
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He still didn't understand why Marluxia had been invited, but he had a feeling that he was about to find out.
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If Aizen was interested in new powers, and he wanted Marluxia to hear about them, he probably suspected the users were 'Ryoka'. That also meant Marluxia's reactions would be studied, so he had to tread carefully.
He wondered, idly, who it might be. The Arrancar hadn't encountered most of them before, after all. Saix, he knew, Vexen, and one altercation with Xigbar, Lexaeus, Larxene, and Zexion, but that still left a significant portion of their number, as well as the non-Organization ryoka. Marluxia remembered the girl who couldn't die, and the four armed mercenary that wouldn't.
He wondered whose work the ill health of one Arrancar had been, then?
Assuming it was one of them at all, but Aizen must suspect as much to bring in Marluxia and Zexion but not the likes of Kuja.
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The data should prove to be interesting, and he did so want to see just what had been done to Luppi, and the rest of them. Not out of concern for his fellow Arrancar, of course, just for his own interests.
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He removed one hand from his pocket, his expression remaining serious, and then he pressed two fingers up into his eye socket, around his eyeball, and drew it out with a sucking pop.
It wasn't the most comfortable of sensations, but it passed quickly, and Ulquiorra knew his eye would regenerate once the technique had been used.
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She wasn't normally squeamish but someone popping the eyeball right out of his own head was more than she could take.
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Then he watched the miserable little freak stick two fingers in his eye and pull the damn thing out, and couldn't help making a noise of horrified disgust.
"Ur, dryd'c zicd celg yht fnuhk," he muttered, while he looked away.
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Nnoitra watched him with disinterest, expecting to be bored rigid and... and then he slid his fingers into his eye socket and pulled out his eye.
"What. The. Fuck," he said out loud, horror painted clearly all over his face. He, more than anyone, knew what it was like to have an eye mangled and seeing someone do that of their own volition was just ... wrong...
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She knew he was a crawly little lickspittle at the best of times, but enough to pull out his own eye? She managed not to say anything, unlike Nnoitra and Yylfordt, but she still let out a horrified gasp and cringed, closing her eyes.
There were some things that were just too revolting to watch.
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More than that though, he had to wonder if it hurt. Was what he was doing that for so important that he was happy to be half blind..?
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"Well, ain't that enough to give you the creepin' shivers?" He said, affecting a shudder.