And I don’t wanna say I told you so...
Jun. 29th, 2016 12:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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spira_rpGin 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."
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Date: 2016-07-02 09:17 pm (UTC)This thing was harder than he was and for him, somebody who prided himself above all else in his defensive capabilities, that was something he didn't admit often. He narrowed his eye, gripping his scythe-spears tightly enough to hurt even his hands, and looked to Stark.
"This thing ain't going down," he said, when the roar of water from Halibel's Cascada softened to a hiss.
The Wyrm had it all. Strength, endurance, size, vast reserves of chakra and experience. It was the kind of monster that had tales written about its ancient strength, the sort with daring heroes and tragic endings.