I Rest My Case

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One is simply not allowed to do, that, which he wants to do. Instead, one is tasked and limited by life, and some dare to struggle and push away at these restrictions, even if many fail; some are successful and become free, but for how long? Hajime, a polite and quiet man, though a man he was not truly, has only sought to fight life in his youth. However now, almost half way down his 5th Century of existence, the Purple-haired Arrancar seemed very content. Very content indeed. There seemed to be few, if any, desires other than the wanting to see the Next Day, and the Day after that. It was something the young-looking individual excelled in - survival. And if it meant cutting a throat or two to accomplish said survival, the Arrancar remained unfazed. Killing was a skill he was well acquainted with.

It was thus a surprise, for surviving was all that Hajime did or accomplish, when the Arrancar was granted a high Rank among his demonic peers. As his attitude and personality dictated, the young warrior had rarely spent time among the 'others' of his 'kind' - his, was a lonesome existence. Though in the past, Hajime had found it a joy to face other Arrancars, whether to test or sharpen his own skills; whether he wished to kill, maim or shame. Still, he wasn't one to converse often, which led to his identity being a little secret, his name the most rare of sounds, of words spoken by others. Though powerful, many simply did not know who Saitou Hajime was - he himself, knew no one and cared little for names or faces. One could even say, that clad in his Shinigami-like clothes, the Arrancar was openly disrespecting his race, perhaps shunning it and shying away from it. Who knows if that was true...

Presently, the young Arrancar enjoyed the never ending Sun, his arms languidly propping up his head, as he sat upon a lonely chair in a room full of other furniture pieces, thus resembling a cafeteria of sorts; his arms were sat themselves, upon a small table, his purple eyes dreamily looking towards a window, though it had no glass and as such, was more of a glorified hole than anything else.

Someone was bound to turn up soon enough.

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A thunderous step. That is what echoed throughout Las noches. The sounds of the gusting winds shot through the empty desert as they escaped the foot that planted into the sand. The small shards of rock blew into the air as a backfire from a leg movement. As the semi- dust cloud slowly fades away into the wind, a figure can be seen running from that one spot that was pretty much demolished. Each and every step were more powerful than the one before. it's body slouched forward to add to the aerodynamics to the running so it can gain speed. Music could be heard slightly as the black and red robes fluttered in the air.

The figure was heading for a white building out in the middle of the desert. From a distance, it looked like a lowly spire, but as one got close to it, it turned otu to be a fortress. A fortress known for hate, evil, maybe even some deaths. As the sunlight hits the face of the Figure, the red "4" on his right cheek peaks out and gleams. It was none other than the 4th espada Cross Setsuzoku.

"Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo Hot!" He yells as he runs through the desert. He hated heat alot, especially in these robes that seem to attract it like a child to any moving toy. He spotted an open door at the bottom of the fortress as he Sprinted towards it, Running full speed into it. Not even stopping, he tripped over a couch that he did not see, landing on his face as he skidded across the room, before laying his legs against a wall.

Turning his red eyes towards the table, he spotted an arrancar just watching a window. This one was dressed in shinigami clothing, one thing that surprised Cross. Still against the wall, he yelled at the arrancar. "Oi! How ya doin'?! don't mind me, It's not i like tripped over a couch or anything, I'm totally fine."

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A line fugue can be seen in the desert near Las noches if you look you can see the white wind blown spiked hair and a mask fragment that covers the mouth and nose of this arrencar that shaped like a tiger mouth and dressed in what a hunter ninja might wear. It is the arrencar known as Marcus Saber Ragnor AKA the Shinigami code name from his hollow days "the Shadow Tiger" the right hand man of the 3rd Espada.

All I can hear is the light crunching of the sand as I walk back from a hunting trip to the menos forest. It was one of the better ones but not one of the best for the simple fact that there was no really good prey. I got sick of walking so I sonido to the nearest enter way which just so happened to be a window.

I duck though the window only to notice Cross and a person dressed in Shinigami gab but had a scent of a arrencar. I then speak with a light tiger growling undertone. "hello Cross and you in the clothing of our sworn enemy explain yourself. If I don't like the answer prepare yourself for battle!"

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The polite, quaint man seemed unperturbed by the nearing thundering sound, one that was steadily increasing in volume, of a movement of a figure. Presumably. That was the most feasible explanation to why the furniture shook, even if slightly. Nonetheless, even such subtle distractions had the Man woken from his temporarily slumber, his eyes darting left and right to find the reason for his awakening. Was he angry? It was hard to tell what he felt, and even if he was, the figure - the incoming missile of an Arrancar, had yet to arrive. I digress. The purple-haired man remained calm as always, his eyes, which had indeed temporarily displayed a hint of curiosity about them, returned to a state of an innocent, sweet neutrality. He seemed reluctant to meet another, yet fate had clearly decided for him, that he would do so today. Hajime could have run, he could have dashed for the door - another glorified hole in the wall - quite the distance behind him. Had he used Sonido, he could have avoided a conversation, regardless if such was rude or appropriate; he was reluctant, yes, albeit curious to see who would show up. Curiosity wasn't something he felt or reacted upon often... From the sounds said person was making, the young Espada guessed that another of his Rank was coming. And indeed, as that mysterious another came closer and closer, the Reiatsu levels gave him away so very clearly. Oh boy.

It took mere seconds for the Arrancar to come rushing in. One could call the situation that followed comical - a blast and rupture of sound ensued! Furniture fell, crashed to the marble floor. Wood collided against wood; wood broke, wood shattered, and wood shot in all directions. Furniture slid and moved, as if ice skating, friction unable to stop its chaotic path of destruction. It was as if God was bowling, and the initial furnitures - the balls - were being flung onward, to take down the rest in their way - the pins. It seemed that all this mess was edging closer and closer to Hajime, who watched the chain reaction and the extent of the damage being caused, with a humourless look on his face. The situation could have been deemed comical, yet the Arrancar seemed unamused, observing. Eventually, all this chaos came to a grinding stop, a mess that once was a simple, but pretty cafeteria, ending up in a large pile of rubble, that stopped around the Shinigami-like man, who was largely unaffected.

The man's purple eyes glanced at the perpetrator of this destruction, a man with a red mane and a showy body. He was large in size, though not towering, although to be honest, most man looked frightening and bulky, in comparison to the young, mild Hajime. There was a moment of silence, which was broken by the barbarian's harsh words. Were they an attempt at a joke? The young Samurai, not for the first time, had found such unamusing. The number four on the man's cheek however, had Saitou react however, though the reaction very much ignored the man's words.

"Ohayou Gozaimasu, Espada-san" was a mechanical response of the youth, his head bowing slightly from where he sat, for he made no move to get up. One could consider such rude. Then again, calling someone a 'san' and bowing one's head was polite galore in regards to Arrancar and their 'common' and 'dirty' ways. To a barbarian such as the red-head before him, the subtle difference would mean little - hell, the bulky man probably had heard little of respect.

Another then chose to enter the scene. This one had no such grand number and as such, his comment in regards to Hajime's clothing - his demand for an explanation - had invoked a completely different response. Though angry he was not, those wonderful purple eyes switched their graze from the red-head, to this new inferior stranger. "Silence!" Saitou shouted, his soft elegant voice echoing around the room, unnaturally. Though it was a shout indeed, the noise seemed as loud as the volume at which one speaks, the only difference being that this form of speech had far greater power. "How dare you speak in a superior's presence in such a manner?!" the samurai questioned, gesturing towards the other Espada. Neither of the Arrancar knew that he himself was an Espada also, and he felt that there was no need to reveal such information. "Sire," the purple-haired man turned his attention to the barbarian. "I implore you reprimand this fool"

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Cross slowly lowered his legs. Each bone and joint popped back into place as he placed his toes on the ground underneath him. His red eyes glare at the mess he made from between his legs. The furniture was scattered across the room. Cross didn't know he did -that- much damage as he made his grand entrance. Rolling his eyes, he sighed heavily. He pressed his palms against the ground underneath his chest as he pushed his body up, falling back on his heels.

Rolling his eyes back over to the arrancar, he watched his emotionless face tilt with his head as he heard the honorific terms escape his lips. Shaking his hands, Cross smiled at the purple haired man. "No.. No need for that. We are all equals." He extended his right hand to the man, hoping he would accept it. "this is how I like to do things." Cross's head tilted as he looked over the man, he never seen him before, but his reiatsu signature.. That thought escaped his mind as Cross opened his mouth once again, but this time introducing himself.

"I am Cross Setsuzoku. Currently the 4th Esapda, but don't let the number scare ya." He continued to smile, It's something cross was known for, that other Espada found insulting, and weird. Even disgusting at some point. cross could care less at what others thought of him. He was there for a reason, and his reason only. His personal goal is all that he wants. the green tinted sheath bounced off the ground between cross's waist.

Raising his eyebrow at the scolding that Marcus got, Cross leaned forward, trying to catch a better view of Marcus. Bending down, He picked up a shard of wood. Rolling it between his fingers, he tossed it lightly at Marcus as he mocked him. "hey Fool!... What's up?" Cross said, laughing slightly. He quickly sonido'd into a chair around the table the purple haired arrancar sat at. Looking over the two, Cross placed both his hands underneat his chin as he sighed loudly. "Oh my god soooo bored..."

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My eyes narrow as I hear what the unnamed arrencar had to say and I replied with the growling tone becoming more dominate. "I am Marcus Saber Ragnor the right hand of the 3rd espada and only he can do what you asked. Also I have been around for a lot longer then most I have seen the rise and fall of eras. I'll give you one more chance to explain yourself." I then hear Cross say he was bored I just shake my head in disbelief.

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"Yes, I noticed your Number" retorted the young Samurai, his face flashing an emotion akin to anxiety, before his hand extended and shook the barbarian's large paw quickly and timidly, before it returned to its former, idle state, that was the state of sitting on the table without a purpose. Though the hairy red man seemed friendly enough, he spoke without grace and with a most common, rough tongue. Of course, he lacked the courtesy to ask the young Arrancar for his name, and Saitou did not correct this mistake, instead acting humble and remaining nameless. His mind registered the barbarian's declaration however and pondered the red-head's words - 'We are all equals'. Was that so? The hypocrite of an Espada was quick to contradict his own theory, taking away any bearing or truth that it had. He called the other a 'fool', and he himself placed himself down near the purple-haired youth, so that it turned out that two superior Arrancar were sitting, whilst the aggressive one remained standing. Were they judging him...? Perhaps, their eyes both equally powerful, looking - threatening. The little man must have been daunted by their presence, no? Surely.

Hajime was never a man of words, not because he believed that actions spoke louder - yes, that was sometimes true, though many a time words had power and influence. A king didn't rule with actions, as much as he ruled with words. Perhaps he used both. A debate was sure in order, to settle such thoughts.

Point was, Hajime was quiet; his reluctance to speak was being tested today however. Impudence was something the youth did not tolerate and yet there he was - the white haired man - a little cub barking at him, in the presence of an even larger dog, that was the red-head barbarian. Had this been Japan, back where Saitou had been respected and feared and where laws were stricter - where he could have chopped the man's head off with ease - the barking pup would have been killed right where he stood. However here, though there were no rules to begin with, the presence of the other Espada limited the choice palette of the young Samurai. And, there was no one that would get to see the message Hajime was trying to teach. Respect. His eyes fell upon the number Nineteen upon the white-haired individual's hand, and a dark thought crossed his face, disrupting and corrupting those wonderfully innocent features for a moment's notice. Would either of the Arrancar witness that quick flash of emotion? Probably not.

Slowly, in an emphasized manner, Hajime raised his hand and pushed away his purely white scarf and a part of the Shinigami-esque robes, to reveal half of his Hollow Hole, that left emptiness, where his heart should have been. Making sure that the pup saw, the hole was re-covered and the scarf fell back over the soft, pale white skin of the youthful Arrancar.

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Cross remained staring at one place on the ceiling. His red iris's pierce the light as it bounces off the eyeball. He brings his left hand up to his forehead slowly as he rubs it with two fingers, then slowly bring it down over his nose. Turning his eyes back over to the purple haired man, Cross spoke slowly. "So... What's your name and Rank? Don't lie to me either, I'll just find out eventually." he said while smirking slightly. He could sense any reiatsu within miles. So he could tell if this man did infact lie about his rank.

Something Cross did not like was fighting between fellow espada. They were suppsoe to work together, not start a civil war. So he turned his head over towards marcus, pointing his right hand at him, before speaking up once again. "tone it down a little marcus, there is no need to get hostile. He is obviously one of us. Get your panties out of a wod. He said while giggling. His mood right now was just great, he had nothing to worry about or stress about. His blade rubbed aagainst the chair he was sitting in, The metal inside the sheath tapped against the sides.

After speaking to the two men, the silence was killign Cross. He wanted to start anything just to get some noise in the room. He began to tap his foot as he hummed a low beat. His hands hit against the table in a pattern as he bobbed his head. His eyes look over the room to see the reactions of the other arrancar.

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"I could tell he was one of us as soon as I got his scent. I just want to know why he wears the clothing of the enemy. Ha you think I am hostile at the moment if you keep pushing I'll show you hostil." I say in a more normal tone but the feel of my reiatsu starts to get a cutting edge to it. The floor next to my feet starts to get scratches in it I sit in the window in such a way it like a tiger is there watching and deciding on,what to do.

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"Of the enemy?" the youth repeated, his tone presenting those very words as a question, as opposed to the statement, that the rude Arrancar had made originally. Saitou's purple eyes revealed nothing as they glanced curiously at the white-haired man; it was uncertain what he was feeling or thinking. If nothing else, he was clearly questioning such an 'opinion', though gave no clues as to what were his own perspective on the matter. Then the barbarian butted in, with words of his own. He had a question for young Hajime, who took seconds to come up with an answer, as his purple irises looked deeply into the other's red eyes. "I'm Saitou, Hajime. The new 6th Espada" the youth said, his tone calm and collected. He awaited a reaction for mere seconds, before he remembered 19's words.

Eventually, the youth shrugged his shoulders lightly, and his eyes set themselves back on the clear skies, visible out of the window. Then the White-Haired rascal decided to sit at the window, blocking out the peaceful sight that was what Hajime sought and had claimed, for he had been first in this particular room, before these two baboons had decided to enter. People really did ruin everything. A sigh escaped his lips, as he decided to grace the question with an answer, knowing full well that the other Arrancar would probably disagree completely with him - maybe even attack him for such an answer. "It is unwise to make an enemy of a whole race, especially, since you're as weak as you are, Numero 19" the man spoke gracefully, unaffected by the wave of reiatsu he felt coming from the White-head. Had one not heard what he said, they would have assumed the youth to have been saying something positive. It was his voice, his soft and melodic voice, that sounded so charming and pleasant: someone with such a voice couldn't possibly be unkind, could he?

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#1 I Rest My Case Mon May 07, 2012 10:49 pm

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