Fulfillment of Promise (Social)

[Serraph Quarrere]

 Serraph couldn't recall the amount of time since the last time he'd visited this place. His position of Espada demanded much of his mind to dwell on such things, but now that he had separated himself from his post to make this venture, he couldn't help but wonder. The exact position had never left his memory. After all that he had done, all that he had accomplished in her servitude, how could he forget it. It existed in the fringes of the white desert where the eyes of the Espada and vying Hollow lords would not think to look. No one in their right mind would dare suffer this seemingly endless journey. No one save for Serraph, or so he would think.

 The Espada could make the journey in record time with minimal stamina loss, no doubt thanks the strength he obtained by removing the accursed mask. The time saved by raw speed alone was minuscule. One first must avoid the bands of hollows and other horrifying creatures along the way. Most were normal level hollows who posed no threat to him now, so what was the worry? Serraphs hand gripped the hollow-skin flask he bore in response to his contemplation. There were things more precious than his own body.

 He could see glimpses of it now on the horizon. The black obsidian obelisks and hinges reflecting the light of the great moon that watched over all who suffered here. There was something nostalgic about that sight, even from this distance. He could remember when he wandered here as a fresh-eyed hollow, torn between his hunger and desires. That reflected light was a beacon of hope in this wasteland. When he had arrived, a score of fellow hollows tiny and unfathomably gigantic came to greet him and welcome him to this small, nameless queendom on the edge of nowhere. He was taken to the Queen, the target he was tasked with killing, but how could he? She knew why he had come but instead welcomed him, made him one of her own.

 One will lose themselves in the past if they are not wary. For one whose purpose was to collect and record the past, such a thing was far too easy. It was only when he arrived did the filter of what was lifted to reveal what is. Serraph sighed as he slid to a stop before  the rugged enclave of obsidian only to find that things have changed since his leaving. None came to greet him and the beautiful obsidian architecture no longer reflected the moon's light. Signs of battle littered the place and organic, flesh like growth covered nearly all that he once adored about this place.

 It was a pitiful sight. In the end, however, it didn't matter who moved in here. His last promise will be fulfilled.

[Santa Ajora]

She detested being in Hueco Mundo. It was such a tremendous pain. Power had made her strong, almost unstoppable it seemed at times. As bleak and lifeless as this place was....it was still so incredibly steeped in beauty at some places. This place for example. Even as she watched the arrancar trying to drag themselves forward, that black blood flooding the sands, turning the grains just as dark as her blood, she couldn't help but look up.

She stared up into that empty sky, framed by the glisten of obelisks nearby. And behind her, an absolute ocean of flesh, bone, and limbs, all painted black by the blood that gushed from the lot of it. The woman smiled, sighing wistfully as she could not help but enjoy the....poetic nature of it all. Even as she raised a leg, and stomped into the crawling arrancar's back, eyes closed, relishing the sound of air being forced from their lungs as she slowly pressed down harder and harder. As the Hierro strained, maintaining the shape slightly, but the pressure just kept on building.

She stared, watching as his body trembled, his voice rising in pitch before finally her heel popped through his spine and ribcage, bursting through his chest and causing him to struggle and rasp, the noise no longer leaving his throat other than a loud foamy bubbling as he went limp below the waist as she snapped his spine. It was just at this moment that she glanced up, and spotted the new arrival. A calm look on her face as she tilted her head, that smile softening just a little.


"Ah, hello there."She greeted what she assumed was a male, just as two bodies suddenly SURGED from the ocean of flesh behind her, charging toward the pair of them, skeletal things dripping with flesh and blood as they suddenly pounced, chomping onto the arrancar under her feet and ripping him clean in half, the look of panic seen just before those hounds ran back into the swell of flesh, as if fetching it for some unknown purpose.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."the woman spoke, curtsying slightly, and fanning out the hem of an imaginary skirt as she greeted him. She wasn't really clothed save for the black blood caked to her body from the neck down, as well as what seemed to be little bits and pieces of meat and flesh that hung here and there. Aside from that, there were a pair of white antlers sprouting from her head as the woman smiled calmly at the Espada. "I'm sorry."

That voice was different. It wasn't just her. But the mass beyond. The mass that stretched for over a hundred feet wide, and slowly seeming to bulge up, as if rising up to the sky. Hundreds, maybe thousands of rasping voices spoke in eerie unison with the woman. "I apologize for the mess. I've been a little....peckish." She said, smiling, despite the fact that in the very center of that swell, that ripped-apart arrancar was being consumed.

There were plenty of signs of a struggle, as the man had noticed before. Cero scorch marks. Chunks of sand forming craters from impacts. And there were even bodies littered about. Impaled by long spikes of bone, with blades of bone lodged into their skills. Or even obound up, hanging from the obelisks by long ropes of flesh and ligaments, their mouths covered over by flesh, their faces riddled with claw marks, no doubt made in an attempt to free their mouths for breath.

And of course, those hounds made their rounds, charging about, collecting the bodies. Of course there were a few still alive. Hollows, Arrancar, but there didn't seem to be any difference between them. Those that were weak enough, simply screamed in muffled pain as they were ripped to pieces and carried off to that swell. Some of them, of course, seemed too durable. Hierro preventing the hounds from being able to tear them apart. But they too, were simply made...portable.

The hounds breaking, twisting, bending their bodies until bones snapped, rolling them up, bending them awkwardly until they were little balls of broken, twisted balls of once-arrancar. And then they too were rushed off to the swell as the woman, spoke to him in unison, even the dogs joining that odd chorus.. "I'm sorry, I hope that this place did not hold any sentiment to you. I was.....hungry." She explained calmly enough, those yellow eyes glowing just a little.

"IS there something I can help you with?"

~2 Class 6 Arrancar consumed

[Serraph Quarrere]

 Serraph took pause from the whole event. Given what he just witnessed, such a thing wasn't too surprising. Those who became one with the Queen here to delay her degradation often met the same gruesome, messy fate. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone left to clean up the mess this time. Serraph chuckled at the memory and gripped his cane, pressing it gently into the gore covered ground before him. He'd rest his weight into it, his eyes of white and crimson scanning over the female hollow with a certain curiosity.

 He'd nod his head slowly and low to her courtsey, answering with what respect he could given his slightly tired and perhaps lazy demeanor. "The pleasure is mine, M'lady.", he'd answer politely, returning her smile with one of his own. Though the place was a mess, it would be a waste if none occupied it at all. For decades this particular enclave served as a safe haven of sorts from the grim reality of Hueco Mundo, until its end of course. "There isn't a need to apologize. If it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face.", he'd comment playfully, his head shaking at his own corniness.

 "Perhaps there is something you can help me with." He'd stand straight again,  his right hand stroking the crook of his cane. "I see you've taken claim on this place? I would humbly request to fulfil a small task here." He'd hold his hand out slowly, grasping the Hollow-skin flask full of some particular liquid. "You see, I made promise long ago to deliver this. The ruler of this enclave no longer exists as she once did, but my vows still hold its weight over me."

 "Of course, If I am not welcome I'll return from whence I came." He'd sigh, his stare looking past the female hollow before him and further inside the rocky enclave. His eyes would widen suddenly and a wide grin stretched over his face. Gripping his cane by its neck he'd bow at the waist in greeting. "I am Serraph Quarrere, what may I have the pleasure of calling you?"

[Santa Ajora]

Within the garden, the mass stirred. Still growing. In the span of time where he gently poked the flesh with his cane, it was already growing halfway up his body, trying to swallow the cane, and him, as it rose higher, the woman herself seeming to float on the slowly spreading garden that was eclipsing the area. And then that mass began to rise. The entire swell of flesh suddenly starting to raise itself up, bones and limbs all straining to raise up into the air, blotting out the moon as it rose a good 30 feet into the air, and still growing higher.

The woman before him seemed.....unresponsive to the politeness. "I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding." She hummed softly, as the weight of the mass began to strain those obelisks, testing their strength against the force of the mass itself, and the sheer weight that was growing on them, pushing with the intent of breaking them down. "I'm simply here to feed. And once I'm done, I simply plan on leaving." She pointed out calmly enough.

Her eyes drifted off to the side as she folded her arms across her chest, and in the dark shifting of that swell, he would see something above it. What looked like some sort of slim centaur watching from the top, eyes that even from this distance seemed fixed on the Arrancar. "I generally don't spend much time in Hueco Mundo. Not after my little.....trip to Las Noches." She murmured, voice turning sour.

Her gaze darted to the item that he held. Sentiment? He seemed strange for an arrancar. To say the least. But even so... "Forgive my incredulity, but ....really? You came all of this way to find this place. So clearly you were intent on this task. And yet, you say that if I were to get in your way, that you would simply accept this?" She asked, those bright yellow eyes slowly starting to burn a burning amber as she watched him.

"That seems like a waste of time. Or, is it, that you're simply a coward?" She asked calmly enough, eyes drifting down, taking in his garb of white, a signal that he was with that disgusting abomination in the throne of Las Noches, and her eyelids drooped just a little, as if disappointed with her observation. "Are you also going to run away, like that man who called himself the primera?" She ventured placidly.

There was no real insult in her voice, or any aggression. There was simply a tired sort of absolution to her voice. As though she were resigned to her perception of Las Noches, and the , apparently, disappointing precedent that had been set to the woman. Eyes that fixed on the man with no real glimmer of danger or expectation. She looked at him no differently than a beast would look at it's prey when it's belly was full. A tired watchfulness, beholding with interest without the usual vigor and desperation. As if waiting for the subject to decide how this would develop.

[Serraph Quarrere]

 Oh dear. He probably should have left the uniform back in his chambers, but such a thing would remove a bit of significance to the visit. To put an end to what was whilst looking to what is and will be held enough symbolism to get the ink in his bloodstream churning. On the other hand, he knew many hollows didn't look to the Espada with much reverence, especially out here in the fringes where the light of Los Noches shone so dimly. His hand would lower, gripping the flask at his side as he looked towards the mass of gore growing and clinging to him.

 "If you were to deny me the conclusion to my vow now, it doesn't mean I can't complete it later." his arms would stretch wide to emphasize his words. "We have all the time in the world M'lady. So long as we continue to maintain ourselves, hollow-kind like us can last theoretically forever." It did perk his curiosity of her mentioning of an impersonation of the Primera. Such a vile thing should rightfully be brought to light, so that all could learn from that mistake. He made a mental note to ask about it later. If he got sidetracked now he may forget momentarily why he came here to begin with.

 The Sexta Espada took a deep breath to root himself in his objective. There were so many questions he could ask. He could feel it swelling within his breast. The answers and knowledge he could obtain here was just so... inticing to the paper Arrancar. "My flesh is made of paper and my blood consists of ink. The words written within and upon me are binding. That being said, I have no intention of doing battle here, do not confuse patience and self-preservation for cowardice."

 He'd tilt his head upward as the being seemed to grow and grow, the glowing amber eyes peering down upon him holding its own beauty. How fitting that he would find this one here just as he had found his former Queen so long ago. The similarity was striking. Towering, goddess-like beings with an aura all so ancient. Though this one seemed to be the more stronger one. "I would ask again for your name. It isn't my place to fill such things in my records."

[Santa Ajora]

The Woman paused for just a moment, having not realized that she had momentarily ignored his question. Well no, she did remember considering it, but sometimes she just sort of pushed those things aside in favor of things that more held her interests. The man's......bizarre candor for one. He actually reminded her a little of a certain spider. But all the same, she folded her arms for a moment and canted her head to the side, those glowing yellow eyes seeming to search the young man.

"Santa Ajora. And I'm afraid I'm not particularly inclined to poetry." she murmured idly, not really surprised that an espada would take up such a thing. Vaguely she began to eye him. Wondering how strong he was. How much he might fuel her evolution. She could only imagine it, given how close she was. Sometimes it felt unbearable just how close to the pinnacle she really was.

"You....should probably move." She pointed out as the garden continued to grow. Seven feet at a time. If he didn't start moving, he would rather quickly be swallowed up by that flowing flesh. A myriad of eyes, ears, and mouths forming around her, seeming to inspect him as he....oddly enough, seemed so much calmer than those she usually encountered. Usually people were terrified of being in contact with her garden. Or they were enamored with it. This indifference was....unusual. She was curious if he intended to let himself drown...

[Serraph Quarrere]

 Serraph was a man of focus when his eyes are set on something he is curious about. In that same vein he is a man of obliviousness, often not seeing outside the tunnel vision of his particular focus, like the growing mass of biological material forming on his cane and uniform. Had Santa not pointed it out, he would have definitely noticed but perhaps only at a time least convenient to him. After being notified of the circumstance he'd look down with the tilt of his head. "Ah, silly me.", he'd comment nonchalantly. With a burst of static and a flurry of movement, he slipped free of the hold. No longer was he where he stood, but rather standing atop the the obelisk opposite the one Santa so boredly tested the integrity of. "You have my thanks~"

 Another burst of static would follow his words and the Espada would be further inside the open enclave of stone and flesh. His object of interest was not hidden, although much of it had been buried at this point in time, thanks to  the other hollow occupying this area. "Ah, I'm more of a librarian than wordsmiths such as poets. I collect and distribute. ", he'd laugh, walking up the steps of a nearby structure behind the other hollow, one that led to the overgrown throne his former Queen once sat. He took his place by its left side and ran his pale gloved hand over the smooth obsidian surface of its frame. "My words were quite literal", he'd comment, peeling away the glove.

 "How boring I must be. Don't fret, i'll be out of your company soon", he said with the slightest sigh of a voice. His other hand flipped his cane about, revealing the tip to be bladed in the shape of a fountain pen's nib. He'd prick the palm of his hand with it and dug just deep enough to get his blood flowing. True to his word, the fluid that dripped onto the thrown was as black as the night sky above him. For all intents and purposes it was ink. Serraph would reach down grasping the flask with the wounded hand. "Great rivers once flowed freely here in Hueco Mundo. All that's left now is the endless wasteland our kind so graciously adore, or so we are to believed." An arc of crimson flowed down his arm to be transmuted into the flask and the contents within, stirring the inert fluid, exciting it. "There are spots where mere fractions of its wondrous water survives, but these spots are drying up."

 "Can you imagine how difficult it was to find such an Oasis? It has taken me longer than I feel comfortable admitting" He had to be careful. The water obtained from that particular Oasis was ludicrously high in reishi. Normal hollows could be melted in its Stirling water. For beings such as he and stronger it would vary. Serraph would be burned by its touch. His flesh was weak and his spirit was too fragmented. To one such as his former Queen, it could cure normally irreversible wounds, much like the one gifted to her in her prime.

 Ah, what a time it could have been back in those days where Hollow warlords vied to be crowned "God" of Hueco mundo. Powerful beings these candidates were, especially for the time. It was never to last. As more and more Arrancar began to evolve and appear, the relevancy of such warrior kings and queens would fade. The Espada would form and cast aside the the brutal barbarism of old. These rulers would be slain, brought under Espada rule, or sent into exile. They had dealt a hefty blow to the Crimson Queen, one she would never truly recover from. This flask would have healed her, but the Queen had passed long before she could sip upon its contents. How unfortunate.

The Espada would carefully pour the spiritually rich water over the obsidian throne. The power seeped into the stone, casting away the corruption and corrosion the years have brought upon it. The black stone of the thrown, for a short moment, glowed with such supernatural extravagance. It was beautiful, but the action was only symbolic in nature. Serraph had to do what he did, his being would not accept the nonfulfilment of the contract burned so deeply into his soul. With the spilling of so precious of a resource, that particular chain was broken. "There. Done."