Spira

Szayel's attention swung from Hojo to Nnoitra, sharply.

"How do you know that?" He asked, disdain dripping from the 'you'. He'd been about to tell everyone himself; he was struggling to contain his gushing, but Nnoitra?

Nnoitra knew exactly who Hojo was already, and that was just as unexpected as Hojo showing up alive and well in the Desert Palace.

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Hojo smirked, his attention now caught. He'd noticed a resemblance, but that was confirmation.

"You're Hebira's child," he said, looking directly at the tall one. The pink haired one was clearly some sort of tedious science groupie, and although the adulation was far from misplaced, Hojo didn't have time to spare for dealing with his ilk, but the son of Hebira Jiruga required a little more attention.

Hojo actually smiled, although it wasn't a nice smile. Hebira hadn't talked about him much, but Hojo had heard fragments now and again. How interesting that he should be here, under someone else's command in Khamja, and having undergone some enhancement himself!

"The apple didn't fall far from the tree, then," he said. "Whose are you?" He repeated, much more interested in the answer, now.

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Nnoitra nodded at Hojo's accurate assessment of his parentage.

It didn't shock Nnoitra that Hojo should know his mother -- she was a senior scientist at Gapra even when he was young enough to know her. It did, however, surprise him that he knew her well enough to have paid attention to her appearance so closely that he would be able to see the resemblance between the two of them.

"Aizen's," he said in answer to his question.

It was a one word answer, but contained within that one word were a lot of unspoken details. They might have been Aizen's, but Aizen was no scientist, not enough of one to create soldiers like them, at least. While he commanded them and claimed responsibility for them, it would be obvious to anyone with a scientific background and a little knowledge about The Archadian Empire, the Gotei 13 captains that held that region and the shadow members of Clan Khamja, that it was Kurotsuchi and not Aizen that was, ultimately, responsible for their creation.

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Aizen's? That was very interesting; Aizen wasn't someone who'd delve so deeply into scientific experimentation unless he had a use for the likely result. He was also unlikely to do any of the work himself, which meant these specimens had probably come from Draklor, and Kurotsuchi's insane tinkerings.

Hojo didn't like Kurotsuchi, but the man at least had the right interests for the work.

"I see," he said. Behind him the kettle neared boiling, and Hojo turned back to prepare his coffee. "Is this all of you?" There might be more, there might not be; that would depend on how well developed the technique had become.

Hebira's child had found his way to Aizen's employ; that was quite some journey, too. Had he, perhaps, taken up the mantle of his mother, or was he, as his mother feared, a disappointment? Though one who had no less found his way to further a scientific cause; science couldn't happen without specimens, after all, and every specimen helped.

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Szayel hadn't stopped staring at Nnoitra. It was like finding out that Ulquiorra was related to L, except it was really more like finding out that, say, Grimmjow was related to Vayne Solidor, and was being asked questions by President Rufus on that basis. The world had gone a little bit upside down.

The worst bit was that he hadn't caught it earlier. They shared a name, after all, although Hebira Jiruga's work was not as well known as Hojo's, she was still a name known to Szayel.

He scowled, and adjusted his glasses. He hated having missed something.

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"No," Nnoitra said, turning his attention back to his newspaper.

He had been slightly wrong-footed by Hojo's recognition of him but not enough to make him forget his knee-jerk dislike of Shinra scientists, whether they still worked for them now or not.

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cierva

Apache, abrasive and brash as she was, did not miss the three-way tension in the room.

She'd never heard of this Professor Hojo, but Szayel clearly had, and admired him, by the looks of things, and he was surprised that Nnoitra knew him and that Nnoitra's mother, apparently, probably worked with him some years ago and he never knew about it.

Szayel was going to be a bitch about this for hours, she just knew it.

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Hojo quietly finished making his coffee before he clasped his hands behind his back again and eyed the four specimens in the room. Aizen was unlikely to agree to letting Hojo borrow one or two of them, not even the weak ones, so Hojo would have to gather what data he could without direct study.

That was unfortunate.

"Clearly I've been away far too long, for such fascinating specimens to have escaped my attention until now." More than four of them, too. Daguerreo really was the ends of the earth. "I shall have to remedy that," he told himself, and then turned back to pick up his coffee.

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Szayel noted Nnoitra's taciturn response. He'd been taciturn since his outburst explaining to the other two who Hojo was, and Szayel doubted that was out of deference to the possibility that Aizen didn't want them handing information to Hojo.

He'd have to needle him about his mother later. Nnoitra had a surprising scientific pedigree.

"We're not your specimens to study," he said, directing this at Hojo, almost cheerfully. They were, of course, fascinating, but the Arrancar were, to Szayel's mind, as much his as Kurotsuchi's, and he wasn't about to have his territory in that area invaded. Not even by Hojo.

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Nnoitra stayed quiet, doing his best to ignore both Szayel and Hojo, but he couldn't make himself concentrate on the paper even if he tried.

Being referred to as a 'Specimen' irritated him, but he kept a lid on that enough to keep his Chakra from flaring noticeably.

It wasn't because the term dehumanised them, it was because it reminded him of the appalling photographs of a half-flayed Behemoth he had once caught a glimpse of in his mother's research. He shouldn't have been looking, but the sight of that creature, huge and known for its ferocity, lying motionless on a slab and covered in tubes and wires, skin peeled back and flesh pulled apart, midway through some horrific process that necessitated evil looking metal pins being shoved directly into the bones of its hands had stuck with him.

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cierva

Apache didn't share Nnoitra's lack of giveafuck for scientific terminology. Being called a 'specimen' irritated her.

"Less of the specimen shit," she snapped.

She didn't care who this professor was, if he was going to call her a 'specimen', he was going to get told to fuck himself.

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trepadora

Luppi, though he remained silent on the matter, agreed with Apache.

In ordinary circumstances he might have had the energy to argue, but, as it was, he wasn't fully recovered enough, mentally or physically, to get into an argument about word choices.

He petted the head of his miniature Malboro absently, subconsciously pulling the little thing closer to him.

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Those were interesting reactions. The groupie seemed defensive, possibly out of loyalty to the scientist that had worked on him, or maybe there was more to it. Hebira's child, he didn't know the name, if he'd ever been told it, he'd certainly never paid attention, seemed unaffected. The little one, and the abrasive one, Jyllandi, he noted, with that accent, both seemed irritated.

It was an odd little pet the little one toyed with, too, but Hojo preferred fauna to flora for his studies. Still, it wasn't something he'd seen before, and perhaps some samples would be worth obtaining, for the curiosity factor.

He seemed unconcerned by Apache's outburst, telling her, simply, "I don't take instruction on what to label my test tubes from the test tubes." Then he sipped his coffee, and grimaced.

He definitely needed a coffeemaker. He couldn't subsist on this for very long; how was he supposed to work without decent coffee?

Edited Date: 2015-01-13 11:19 pm (UTC)

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cierva

Apache opened her mouth to snap something at Hojo when a look from Nnoitra silenced her. She wasn't one for obeying authority unquestioningly, but Nnoitra was the highest ranked of them present and he seemed to know something about the guy.

She opted to glare, instead.

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Nnoitra saw Apache about to kick off and, although he enjoyed mindless bloodshed as much as the next near-psycho with slightly berserker tendencies and little regard for their own life, gave her a look that told her to cool it.

He had no real authority over her. She wasn't his Fracción. But, he had been responsible for killing Professor Hojo's ... technically... predecessor and he'd gotten into knee-deep shit even if it was for personal revenge and, as the story went, to save Kadaj from being murdered by the dickhead.

He doubted that this freak would last long, especially if he went around calling dangerous and often unstable individuals 'specimens', but having Apache cero him on his first day would not only be bad form, but it would also confirm what they were ahead of Aizen telling him.

He doubted that Aizen would hand anyone over to him for examination, but getting on his nerves wasn't the best way to test that hunch.

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Hojo caught that the girl backed down after a pointed look from the other one. She was obedient enough to take such vague instruction from her fellow specimens, then, if easily riled.

Hojo put his awful coffee down again, reaching into a pocket to retrieve a slim silver case, which he opened, took a slender white cigarette from, and then closed before putting the tip of the cigarette between his lips. He struck a match, and lit his cigarette, before shaking the flame out, and tossing the spent match into the sink.

Then he picked up his coffee. "Give my regards to your owner," he said, exhaling neatly and leaving a small cloud to hover at face height in the room, before he made for the door.

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Szayel watched Professor Hojo light up and leave with a curled lip. Only once the man was safely out of the door, and then, short of him staying behind there to listen in, safely out of earshot, did he say, "He is going to come in his pants when he finds out about the Ryoka."

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Nnoitra snorted at Szayel.

He didn't doubt that. Arrancar were interesting because of their experiment value, but Ryoka..? A Hollow/Hyur fusion paled in comparison to a Ryoka for any scientist.

At least Hojo would leave them alone for a few days when he found out about them.

"If he lives long enough," Nnoitra said, turning the page of his newspaper pointedly.

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Szayel smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Nnoitra. A man that unpleasant has no end of people who want him dead, and yet he's still here." He picked up his cup, before adding, "He'll last a month. That's plenty of time to find out about the Ryoka."

He eyed Nnoitra, then, and was just as pointed about it as Nnoitra was about going back to his paper. "You managed to keep it quiet about your mother, didn't you?"

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cierva

Apache didn't really know the Ryoka well, but she'd heard (and seen, if the Fire Elemental on Ulquiorra's battle replay was anything to go by) that they were very powerful on the field of battle.

If that Hojo guy pissed one of the three in the Palace off enough, one of them would kill him. She silently laid a bet on the white-haired one...

...and then winced at what fell out of Szayel's mouth before she could complete the thought.

Tact was clearly a foreign language to this idiot.

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trepadora

Luppi did his level best not to cringe at Szayel's question. The moment he asked it, he gripped his little Malboro a little bit tighter and got a squeak of displeasure and the stinging bite of needly little teeth in his finger as a result.

He let go immediately and soothed the little thing by way of apology.

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Nnoitra looked up from his paper and levelled a one-eyed look at Szayel. He knew that the question was going to come up, but he almost expected him to wait a few days before poking him about it.

Alas, this was Szayel.

"I ain't seen her since I was eleven," he pointed out. "She could be dead for all I know."

But he knew she wasn't. If he didn't know before, he knew now. Hojo would probably have mentioned it otherwise and he'd definitely have been informed.

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Szayel was oblivious to the reactions of the other two to his lack of tact. Szayel didn't get anywhere by being tactful; it just made it easier for people to ignore him. That, and it was a skill he'd never really picked up.

"Still, your mother and uncle are, or were, renowned in their fields." Nnoitra must have been such a disappointment, he realised, with a nasty smirk. "You could have mentioned it. I'm sure there would have been perks at Draklor for the offspring of a scientist like your mother."

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