Johan's face flashed through a few emotions in rapid succession. First was absolute delight. A bottle of wine from the reign so Ceaser himself?! The very thought made the man's mouth water. However, second was regret. Johan knew very well that he would never, could never, accept a gift from a Hollow, no matter how badly he wanted it. And so Johan's expression shifted the third time: polite regret. Placing a hand over his heart, Johan's lips curled into a polite smile of regret as he shook his head.

"I appreciate the gesture of your gift, However..." Johan's eyes seemed to almost quiver with sadness, "I cannot accept such a kingly gift. Your apology, along with you quietly making your leave, is more than enough." Johan's heart swirled with frustration, if it had just been Wayland then Johan would have murdered him with glee. However, his fellow Inquisitors didn't have the keen, honed senses he did. He had taken it upon himself to respond and had come face-to-face with primal savagery itself. Johan was walking a tightrope. On barbed wire. That could be electrocuted should he sway even a little too much.

Wayland watched the whole scene play out without a hint of regret for what he'd done. In fact, he was quite pleased. He was honestly impressed with himself that the Primera had believed the bullshit he made up the spot and appeared to chalk it up to Wayland being a dumbass. The Quincy showed up at the perfect time. If Graven had more time to think about Wayland's response he most likely would've seen through the farce. Although the road had twisted and turned, Wayland's destination still appeared reachable. In this case, the destination was more so an event than a physical place and with the Primeria here it was likely to come to pass sooner rather than later. With all this in mind Wayland decided to sit back and watch how things would go before making his next move.

Nodding in understanding, Graven turned his golden eyes to Wayland, sure that the man was hiding something. To have blown up Rome and risked a war over something as simple as a Garganta was exceedingly stupid, so much so that if that was truly the reason then the Primera would just obliterate the man and be done with it. As he said earlier, Ika would definitely not be upset with him for dealing with problems such as this however he wished. Reaching out, he would grab the unruly Noveno by the shoulder, disappearing into a blur of Sonido through the Garganta, closing it behind him.

For Johan's part, when he arrived back home that night, he would find a bottle of dark red liquid, labelled the Ides of March, 44 B.C. Bottle #13, written in a clean script with a matching letter. Inquisitor Dämmerung, just as you cannot accept a gift, I cannot find it in myself to ignore your kindness towards my foolish comrade. Thus, do not think of this as a gift, or a reward, but as a gesture of respect between two enemies. There aren't enough good wines left in the world, and so I would like for this one to go to someone who will appreciate it. ~1

As for Wayland, he would find himself tossed into the sands outside Las Noches, Graven's predatory gaze boring into him. "Now, explain what you were really doing there. One doesn't risk war over something that can be figured out with a bit of common sense and research."

Once Johan's fell upon the bottle of wine, he let out a cry of anguish. That crafty bastard! Tears of frustration rolled down Johan's cheeks as he read the note. Dammit! He'd been had! The man tried to resist, he really did. However, just the thought of a wine so ancient being well preserved of all things... No self-respecting lover of liquor could resist the urge, you know. Johan slowly undid the cork, giving it a little sniff. And in that moment, his world exploded. It was like an Italian vineyard in a bottle. So rich, so juicy, but not over-stated. This wine it somehow KNEW how wonderful it was. It didn't need to be gaudy or pretentious... this bottle was an awful, terrifying display of strength. Hand shaking, Johan poured a little bit into a glass and swirled the deeply crimson liquid. The scent of wine permeated the room, causing Johan's head to swim a little. And after a sip? Johan wept at it's beauty, felt the loss of an empire as if he were Caeser's ghost himself. It is said for the next day, Johan was visibly depressed.

Wayland softly landed on the sands of Hueco Mundo dusting himself off as he did so. It didn't take long before Graven insisted upon interrogating him. Although Wayland had an excellent reason for his conquest across Europe, which ended in Rome, he couldn't disclose any of that to Graven at least not right now. Wayland's gaze responded in kind to Graven's matching it with equal intensity.

"I figured you'd realize that wasn't the reason I was actually in the world of the living however, I'm afraid I can't give you the specifics of my trip all I can tell you is that is will benefit The Espada greatly. I know it might be difficult to believe that from your position but it is the truth."

Unbeknownst to Graven, Wayland had used the tiny stand off between him and the Quincy to accomplish a significant task. In due time Wayland's master plan would be revealed but not today. Even if it cost him his life, the groundwork had already been set and the ball had been put into motion.

Graven's eyes narrowed and the ominous reiatsu that still filled the air became thicker, slamming into the lower-ranked Espada and the surrounding area, the sands shifting and dancing as what felt like an earthquake began to strike the area. The eerie golden color of Graven's eyes had disappeared, turning a glowing red as he took a step forward, his voice staying low and calm even as it seem that reality would be torn asunder. "You've put me in a difficult position, Wayland. You do not seem to respect my position or the need to understand EXACTLY what is worth the risk you've taken before it bites us all in the ass. Thus, I think a different approach is required..."

The world would seem to shift back to normal, even as Graven disappeared and the scenery around the younger Arrancar blurred into a field of white, solidifying again in the throne room of Las Noches. He was held by the back of his coat in one hand by the Primera, as if he were an unruly pup whose parent had to scold them by the scruff of their neck. "Ika, I think we misplaced one. I found him in Rome, attempting to destroy it for some reason or another. Personally, I'd wipe my hands clean of this, for obvious reasons, but I figure that you might feel differently. Now Wayland, tell the nice Cero why you did it."

Was Graven guilty of treating his fellow Espada like misbehaving children? Yes.

Did they deserve it?...Yes.

Wayland stood under the immense pressure of the Primera. Though he didn't show it externally, he struggled to stay standing as the pair were transported before the Cero King of Las Noches. Looking outward onto his seemingly certain fate Wayland raised his arms and slide out of his coat so that Graven was left holding nothing more than a garment. Wayland slid his hands into his pockets enjoying what would probably be his last few living breaths for quite some time before he spoke with more control than he ever had in his entire existence.

"I can't disclose my reasons for my actions. Though I suppose can't isn't the proper term here rather, I won't. I know what this likely means for me so do what you must."

Wayland stood proud awaiting whatever judgment would be cast upon him. Through Ika and Graven's eyes Wayland probably seemed like a lunatic or a complete idiot however it wasn't their fault they couldn't understand what he had just done. After all, they didn't have all the information and even if they did they still wouldn't likely comprehend the majesty of Wayland's masterpiece. This could be the end for Wayland but endings are always beginnings to something new.

Ika frowned a bit as the Arrancar was transported to him, a bit annoyed with the entirety of the proceedings. He glared at Graven whom was clearly roughed up then back to Wayland. "I don't know what it is you're planning and I don't care. Compromise our cause again and I'll put a Cero sized hole through your skull that no magic mumbo jumbo can fix." Ika turned to Graven, frowning before speaking. "I am guessing that we're due for some retaliatory action from the Shinigami here sooner rather than later and cannot in good conscious kill a Captain level fighter who could aid us in this time of need."

Ika turned his attention back towards Wayland, a gleam of intrigue and bemusement permeating in his eyes. "You will stay in Hueco Mundo until whatever countermeasures the Shinigami launch are rebuked. Provided you survive that attack you will be allowed to continue your work. Are we clear?"

Wayland was a bit surprised. He had expected to die here and now. He had always counted on it. He was so close to his goal and he was ready to die trying to achieve it. Wayland didn't really believe that Ika would let him live. It was clear he just didn't want to lose war time potential by killing him here and now. Instead, he would simply end Wayland after any retaliation from the Gotei. Still, given his current circumstances, Wayland didn't have much of a choice.

"As you wish. I shall return to my quarters at once."

Wayland shot his eyes back towards Graven as he began to walk off. They weren't eyes of regret or fear but rather eyes of a final farewell. Wayland would control the chaos of his own death. He would decide his last breath not these two.

Graven's eyes narrowed at the younger Arrancar, even as he so foolishly refused to speak anything of his plans. Sighing as Ika gave his verdict and dismissed the arrogant child, the wolf would toss the man's coat at him while he left, turning to the current King. "While I understand the need for soldiers, especially ones of Captain-level or above, that one is going to be a pain in the ass. Either way, crisis averted for the moment I suppose. I'm going to take a nap. You know where to find me."

There were few people in this world who could reasonably turn their backs on the Cero King and expect to live, yet Graven knew that Ika wouldn't do anything to him. It wasn't arrogance, it was respect that lead him to be so casual around his old friend in private. The eldest Arrancar had noticed the look in Wayland's eye as he left, and he would not be surprised if Ika had as well.

Graven had a feeling that he wasn't going to get much sleep around that one.

[Thread Exit]