Gin Ichimaru (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shoottokill) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
spira_rp2016-06-29 12:58 pm
shoottokill) wrote in spira_rp2016-06-29 12:58 pm
And I don’t wanna say I told you so...
Gin Ichimaru's footsteps were light on the Desert Palace's ancient stone floor. They were soft enough to barely echo off the walls except for the scuff of a toe or heel.
He liked the Palace at night. It was more peaceful, like any populated place tended to be when most of the inhabitants were in bed and, for the most part, quiet. Even the air seemed to move more quietly when the hum of conversation and the distant sparks and flares of spiritual pressure were felt from the training centre, where the wards applied didn't keep it back if the door was left open.
Peaceful as it was, he rarely slept there. He had somewhere else for that, somewhere within his jurisdiction as a Gotei captain. He retained a room though, and it was from there that he was walking, heading in the direction of the quiet kitchen, while the borrowed sky outside the window was dark and the air was cool and filled with the smells of night time.
Nobody seemed to be up. He was sure that some of the denizens would still be awake, doing whatever they felt like in their rooms, but nobody was up and about. It was too late for the night owls and too early for the morning people. He smiled to himself as he reached the top of the stairs down to the main hall, but the expression fell away abruptly when the sound of an alarm split the silence.
The noise set every nerve in Gin's teeth on edge. Halfway between a scream and a siren, it was a magically amplified and erratic, half-undulating sound that had obviously been designed not to be ignored under any of the circumstances it might be set off to. It was hideous, organic and ear-splittingly loud, akin to the sound of a thousand babies crying and just as many tomcats yowling, foxes screaming and nails being drawn down a chalk board and it rose and fell in tone enough that it was impossible to get used to. For a moment, even Gin stood frozen at the top of the stairs, eyes briefly wide, the hair on the back of his neck on end.
"That's new," he said to himself, his soft voice drowned by the screechy baying of the siren.
He headed down to the hall, feet quick on the stairs. From beyond the front door, and the hall that separated the door to the Zertinan Caverns from the palace proper, he heard a low roar, angry and bellowing, even with the siren's wail doing its best to block everything else out.
"Oh," he said. "Look's like one of Kuja's little pets has slipped its leash." He smiled to himself, directing his gaze up the stairs, anticipating appearances from other members of the Clan. "This should be fun."
He liked the Palace at night. It was more peaceful, like any populated place tended to be when most of the inhabitants were in bed and, for the most part, quiet. Even the air seemed to move more quietly when the hum of conversation and the distant sparks and flares of spiritual pressure were felt from the training centre, where the wards applied didn't keep it back if the door was left open.
Peaceful as it was, he rarely slept there. He had somewhere else for that, somewhere within his jurisdiction as a Gotei captain. He retained a room though, and it was from there that he was walking, heading in the direction of the quiet kitchen, while the borrowed sky outside the window was dark and the air was cool and filled with the smells of night time.
Nobody seemed to be up. He was sure that some of the denizens would still be awake, doing whatever they felt like in their rooms, but nobody was up and about. It was too late for the night owls and too early for the morning people. He smiled to himself as he reached the top of the stairs down to the main hall, but the expression fell away abruptly when the sound of an alarm split the silence.
The noise set every nerve in Gin's teeth on edge. Halfway between a scream and a siren, it was a magically amplified and erratic, half-undulating sound that had obviously been designed not to be ignored under any of the circumstances it might be set off to. It was hideous, organic and ear-splittingly loud, akin to the sound of a thousand babies crying and just as many tomcats yowling, foxes screaming and nails being drawn down a chalk board and it rose and fell in tone enough that it was impossible to get used to. For a moment, even Gin stood frozen at the top of the stairs, eyes briefly wide, the hair on the back of his neck on end.
"That's new," he said to himself, his soft voice drowned by the screechy baying of the siren.
He headed down to the hall, feet quick on the stairs. From beyond the front door, and the hall that separated the door to the Zertinan Caverns from the palace proper, he heard a low roar, angry and bellowing, even with the siren's wail doing its best to block everything else out.
"Oh," he said. "Look's like one of Kuja's little pets has slipped its leash." He smiled to himself, directing his gaze up the stairs, anticipating appearances from other members of the Clan. "This should be fun."
no subject
Stark did as planned and fired a Cero through the open door, aiming blindly. It came quickly without the need to charge it, but the feeling and the noise was the same.
With just his Mask fragment out, the chargeless Ceros weren't exactly top-level in terms of power, but they were enough to sear most things, and easily the same level as those of the other Arrancar. To achieve anything more spectacular, time had to be put in, and Stark didn't have that.
He caught sight of what had set off the alarm in the light of the blast. It was a massive wyrm, huger than any he'd seen before. It had a collar around its neck, suspended in the way that only the ancient people knew how. It was older, and harder, and meaner than any he'd ever seen.
Stark had a feeling that the Cero wouldn't do a lot of good.