Out from the new day's mist I have come.
May. 25th, 2017 06:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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spira_rpOf all the things Gin had thought the day would bring, that was not one of them.
Ulquiorra's appearance had been a shock, even to him. He had been covered in fur, skinnier than usual, and taller... though that may have just been the strange, almost birdlike structure of his legs and feet. He had known that his release was winged -- that was down on the few papers he had elected to cast his eyes over -- but the rest ... no, that hadn't matched up. Neither had the reiatsu.
The Arrancar were something else where Chakra was concerned. Partly hyur and partly Hollow, they had the capacity to be extremely powerful, especially since those working on the Arrancar project had made especially sure to harvest only the best Hollows they could get their filthy little hands on. If Gin recalled, they had even gone as far as seeking help from some of Khamja's more unusual Jyllandi associates to obtain them.
Ulquiorra's had been a problem. With the exception of Stark's and matching Nnoitra's, Murciélago had gone through more potential hosts than any other, killing those it refused to bond with. Everybody had been surprised when the thing had latched onto such a dour little candidate. Some had been angry. Nel had been angry.
And then he returned from an excursion in a form nobody had ever seen. Even Aizen had come out armed and unsure whether he was himself. It had, of course, been possible that it could have killed the Ryoka and used the boy's memories to return to the Palace and kill everybody that had wronged it, using Ulquiorra's form for the job, but ... no. That hadn't happened. Instead, Ulquiorra actually had power over the form. It wasn't a takeover, or a case of Oversoul.
In Gin's opinion, there was little chance that it had been the first time the subject had come up between the two of them and that could mean only one thing. Ulquiorra was keeping secrets. From his dear Aizen-sama. That was both a turn out for the books and a very interesting development. Could it be that Ienzo-san was having an effect on Ulquiorra and his supposedly unshakeable loyalties? Gods forbid.
Ulquiorra had been called into Aizen's office shortly after the Ryoka that sat top of Gin's list of those not to push very far had relieved him of Ienzo's broken little form. Whatever had transpired there, Aizen had gotten some extremely interesting intel on what had happened.
"Will you go with Ulquiorra to where Ienzo was attacked?" Aizen had asked him.
When asked why him, Aizen had confided that what they had faced was far beyond Ulquiorra's capabilities, with or without the additional help from his rather dark passenger, and that they were both lucky to be alive. It was, Aizen told him, a Weapon. Weapon with a capital letter, even in the middle of a sentence. The type of creature that only really cropped up in books on mythology or the sort of hokey conspiracy pamphlets that seemed to suggest that some of Spira's oldest monuments had been built by aliens.
Who was he to refuse? How many times did one get to see a legend first hand? If that was what it was, anyway.
And that was how Gin had ended up in an ominously swirling Garganta with his customary smile temporarily on hold.
Well, even he had limits.
Ulquiorra's appearance had been a shock, even to him. He had been covered in fur, skinnier than usual, and taller... though that may have just been the strange, almost birdlike structure of his legs and feet. He had known that his release was winged -- that was down on the few papers he had elected to cast his eyes over -- but the rest ... no, that hadn't matched up. Neither had the reiatsu.
The Arrancar were something else where Chakra was concerned. Partly hyur and partly Hollow, they had the capacity to be extremely powerful, especially since those working on the Arrancar project had made especially sure to harvest only the best Hollows they could get their filthy little hands on. If Gin recalled, they had even gone as far as seeking help from some of Khamja's more unusual Jyllandi associates to obtain them.
Ulquiorra's had been a problem. With the exception of Stark's and matching Nnoitra's, Murciélago had gone through more potential hosts than any other, killing those it refused to bond with. Everybody had been surprised when the thing had latched onto such a dour little candidate. Some had been angry. Nel had been angry.
And then he returned from an excursion in a form nobody had ever seen. Even Aizen had come out armed and unsure whether he was himself. It had, of course, been possible that it could have killed the Ryoka and used the boy's memories to return to the Palace and kill everybody that had wronged it, using Ulquiorra's form for the job, but ... no. That hadn't happened. Instead, Ulquiorra actually had power over the form. It wasn't a takeover, or a case of Oversoul.
In Gin's opinion, there was little chance that it had been the first time the subject had come up between the two of them and that could mean only one thing. Ulquiorra was keeping secrets. From his dear Aizen-sama. That was both a turn out for the books and a very interesting development. Could it be that Ienzo-san was having an effect on Ulquiorra and his supposedly unshakeable loyalties? Gods forbid.
Ulquiorra had been called into Aizen's office shortly after the Ryoka that sat top of Gin's list of those not to push very far had relieved him of Ienzo's broken little form. Whatever had transpired there, Aizen had gotten some extremely interesting intel on what had happened.
"Will you go with Ulquiorra to where Ienzo was attacked?" Aizen had asked him.
When asked why him, Aizen had confided that what they had faced was far beyond Ulquiorra's capabilities, with or without the additional help from his rather dark passenger, and that they were both lucky to be alive. It was, Aizen told him, a Weapon. Weapon with a capital letter, even in the middle of a sentence. The type of creature that only really cropped up in books on mythology or the sort of hokey conspiracy pamphlets that seemed to suggest that some of Spira's oldest monuments had been built by aliens.
Who was he to refuse? How many times did one get to see a legend first hand? If that was what it was, anyway.
And that was how Gin had ended up in an ominously swirling Garganta with his customary smile temporarily on hold.
Well, even he had limits.
