Their Smiles [PG13, NDE, Semi-Social, Hard]

[Zou ۞]

Name: [Their Smiles]

Participants: [Kuroi Naito, Marcelius Despres, Miho Shoga]

Location: [Human World]

Difficulty Level: [Hard]

Setting: [NDE]

Plotline: [Kuroi Naito, the Segunda Espada, was never very emotional. He is very good at suppression. That being said, how will he react to the return of his Fraccion, Miho Shoga? And how will she react to learning of the fates of the other three that once served under him with her?

It is unfortunate that she appeared at this time, when Kuroi, and new subordinate Marcelius, were planning on entering the human world for two purposes. Firstly, they must locate Desgarron Cyndaquil to recruit him. Secondly, they must locate and kill Kouen Akarui, an Escudo member and Zarpa 5-2. He is a traitor, and formerly Kuroi's Fraccion.

In between there will be a lot of social stuff.

Who's ready to cry a little at this emotional thread?]

Estimated Enemy Strength: [0] (There is only one enemy NPC)

Estimated Time Until Completion: [Unknown]

Starts: [Now]

Special Conditions: [At the end of the thread, Kouen Akarui may become a boss battle run by Kyomei. Until then, this thread is primarily a "social adventure."]

[Deleted]

She'd might as well be the living dead. The hellion had returned from her trip. It was one of the soul searching variety yes....but most importantly, she wanted to immerse herself in darkness and she wanted to seek power. She was tired of everything. She felt like she was such a nuisance on such a powerful group of people. With that particular group of people whom she thought she despised with every fiber of her being, she loved. She truly did. Would she ever admit it?

Well... there was a snowballs chance in hell with that one...

But the ravenette knew that things needed to change. Stagnation was deadly in her eyes. Nothing of hers had change with the exception that she was becoming soft. Before her trip she'd been worried sick that her powers would disappear. One's zanpakuto was a reflection of the soul and if her soul was becoming lighter, her dark zanpakuto might be lost forever. Survival in Las Noches is a must and without it, she'd be at her most vulnerable. Here is was kill or be killed. Miho Shoga was always the hunter and never the hunted and she intended to keep it that way. The more attached she grew to them the more she thought her grasp on her powers were slipping. Hence, she decided to take an unannounced trip knowing full well that her fricken' boss was gonna beat her to a bloody pulp. Great. Just fuckin' great.

She wasn't entirely irritated at the idea of her boss punishing her for leaving. Miho was fully aware of the repercussions she would suffer. In her dark, wretched mind, it was necessary. She had to go off the deep end if she truly wanted to engulf Las Noches in total darkness. Present today would be a Miho with a new kind of darkness and maliciousness in her. It was almost controlled and yet sinister in every sense of the word. However, she might've learned something else in her trip. Something in her clicked and suddenly she felt as though she was capable of something much more. Something in her realized that she absolutely could be strong for them. For Chisoku. For Nijuu. For Kuroi. For Kouen. Hell. We can even throw that dimwit Asuka in there too. Sure she could shroud the world in darkness but for now, she could slowly build up power and enjoy the halcyon days with the rest of them until she could strike. Let things build up into something lovely and viciously knock it off its pedestal until its worthless trash six feet under. Miho wanted to see this place as a burning wasteland as soon as possible but that idea was impossible. Instead of suppressing the good just leave it be and hurt people when they least expect it. It was a far sound plan in her mind.

The maliciousness never left her. That's for sure.

Today marks the day of her return. She was being an awful girl about it too. All these stupid butterflies fluttering in her stomach. How would they react to her just suddenly returning? Would they verbally beat her down as they always have? Would they beat the living shit out of her?

Would they kill her..?

Scarlet toned eyes fluttered at the thought as she went over 1000 ways they could kill this particular cat. None of which were pretty. Hair as dark as black ink lightly swayed in the breeze as she looked over the gates. Miho stood her usual height in a slightly new outfit; her long white collared shirt with the blood red tie. Black suspenders were added to the mix accompanied with black pants with leather panels running along the sides of her legs along with flat, black leather boots that ran up to her knees. She no longer had the miserable coat. or those tacky old boots with the armor on it. It was much simpler than before.

Miho strode in with confidence apparent in every step she took. Though there was one thing in the back of her mind that bothered her. She was actually nervous about seeing them all again....Especially Kouen. Jeez. That fricken' idiot. She could imagine all kinds of poetic nonsensical crap he'd spew and she just got a headache from imagining it. Well, bitches....let's start this shall we?

"Hn. I'm baaaack~."

[Marcelius]

Today was going to be great. It was notion one could feel, bubbling in the blood and shivering in the bones. A warmth came with it, the kind that soothed any wretched soul, no matter how depraved. Because all live sees value in a great day; one filed with accomplishment and achievement. Yes, success was the only universal delight, and on this morning, Marcelius was welcome to it's delightful accolades. To this day of adventure and eminent triumph, Marc greeted with a smile. Into the mirror, the first he'd dare glance at in so many years, the brightness of his grin seemed to cause a glare. It was joy that produced this light...a shine that the rest of the world could not so easily see, pitifully.

He had garnered this reflective instrument in the evening before, along with stunning new suit. The two were nothing of coincidence, as it was important for him to see the quality of his image in this new attired. He was to be a Fraccion, subordinate to the mighty Segunda. With his new role, a level of expectation was held. To be chosen was a sign of usefulness...and an honor. To repay said honor, one is required to present themselves with a power and refinement...as to not represent the Espada poorly. Fraccion's were as much statements, as they were servants. Glancing over himself once more in the mirror, the old Hollow chuckled, "There was enough polish after all..."

Marcelius left his room, feeling and looking good. Though a majority of the credit went to the Segunda's taste in apparel, Marc took some credit for himself for once. It was rare for this particular soul to ever consider or think of himself...rarer still was his delight. There was something about this new suit. It fit snuggly on the tall figure, strained across broad shoulders. In the right light, the satin material gave the faintest hint of blue; while at all other times remaining a cold black. It was the Segunda's soul. Turned tux. Still, it was a representation of acceptance. Something Marcelius often longed for. However, not all of it was not all a symbol of the new order of things in his life.

Having strapped his sword around his waist, just beneath the jackets pale yellow shawl now accented the rest of his outfit. It was strange, to him, to be considering all these aesthetic details. For unknown years, he depreciated the value of looks or appeal. The things were irrelevant, as his desires were always aligned with remaining hidden. What point was there, for the creature beneath the bed, to wear something pleasant or impressive? This was just one of the many changes he was going to accept. Having rejoined a...society, things such as statements had become important once more. With so many hopes to maintain, aloting any amount of concern for his charm seemed...shallow. Hollow, really.

Through his distraction and his musings, he had not noticed how briskly he had walked to his destination. A room he'd never entered before; one in which he was to meet the Segunda. They were to discuss their plans regarding a new recruit, and a trip to the realm of the living. Marc was to offer his advise in their procedure, receive his orders, and the unquestioningly follow the will of the Espada. There was an excitement in his heart...one more genuine than the thrill of self confidence. They were to find a new brother to join the ranks. Given the nature of the mission, the both of them were there perfect suit for it's success.

No sooner had he entered the room, recognizing his new leader's sound and face, did their meeting begin. So punctual, and to the point...it was suspicious if this young man ever had a childhood in which to be more aloof. Ah, but the origins of Kuroi were not his responsibility, so he drew his diverse focus inwards. This would come to be a waste, as a new sound drew near. Before the first word could leave either Arrancar's lips, a new guest would arrive. Sensing her, for some long before, he recognized the deep murmur of a darkened soul. It was not, totally out of place in Las Noches...however, it was new. Having been to aloft in the clouds of his thoughts, he had paid no heed before.

This was some new spirit, come to join the legions of Arrancar already established in the palace. Now, this new sound had come closer...Marc could hear subtle glimmers of familiarity. The Segunda must have sensed her too, for his eyes rose with Marcelius' to observe the door as she entered. A girl, appearing quite untouched by the wear of age. Standing much shorter than Marc, she seemed to coil into an even smaller stature once she had passed through the entryway. She was stunning, a young beauty the likes of which Hueco Mundo rarely enjoyed. Unfortunately, that beauty was withdrawn. Hesitation held her, if only for a moment, while her eyes glanced the room.

The sight of the Naito must not have come as a shock, for in her mind a dozen images of the Espada danced about in memories of: joy, fear, and even grief. These two were not only acquainted, this young woman had quite the history...one too extensive for Marc's observant eyes to read. Straightening his back, he dipped his head in silent greeting to their new arrival. Standing nearly 6'7", broad shoulders and a sturdy build; the old Arrancar possessed a kind face, one scarcely lined by a few wrinkles of age. A set of deep, blue eyes...deep as the ocean to which they steal their hue. Standing in silence, welcoming her to the room with a sincere smile; one that exposed the wrinkles of his cheeks and the warmth of his warmth of his soul. Not unlike the faint memory of someone named, Kouen. A name Marcelius had heard mention of before. There, silent, this aged man waited with the Segunda...but did not speak, conveying his rank as inferior. He would not talk, until after the Espada. To Miho, it would be immediately clear. He was Fraccion.

[Zou ۞]

Play this

"Good evening, my dear Arrancar..." opened a voice. "Tcheh..." went another. "It's always evening here..." The scene unfolded within an enormous room of marble. A smooth, white marble floor blanketed the room, making it appear as if all who stood within it were balanced precariously on a thin layer of ice over a frozen lake. The room was a rectangular prism, and on the right side from the enormous, iron double door entrance, several large white columns shot down from the ceiling, which was immeasurably high. The columns were thick, large, and foreboding. On the opposite side of the room from the columns was an exit onto a small balcony, and above that was a stained glass window upon which mosaics of fire and lore were splashed. It was the only source of illumination in the room, for it was from this balcony and window by which the moonlight came into the room.

On the opposite side of the room from the doors, a wide, extending stairwell led to an amphitheater set-up, where lay an iron throne composed of swords, spikes, and skulls. The throne sat there menacingly, an imposing figure even during the times when it was unoccupied. However, at that moment, there was indeed an occupant of the throne of the great palace of Las Noches. Within that sacred, though empty throne room, the first to speak, who had greeted all of the Arrancar, was seated upon the throne. He wore a lengthy, white leather coat, beneath which a white shihakusho was his garb. A violet sash tied it all together. It was an outfit style that many in the palace sported. The key difference was this covered the man's chest. Many others did not.

The difference was that the occupant of the throne lacked a hole in his chest to show. Rather, the man with the slicked back black hair and the bemused black eyes had a complete body devoid of holes, and wore no form of broken mask. He had a Zanpakuto sheathed at his side, yet he was no Arrancar. The King of Las Noches, Sonken Kouhai, was not an Arrancar or a Hollow even. He was a Shinigami. The King of Las Noches had been a Shinigami once before, but only once. This current one, Sonken Kouhai, had said that it was his belief that the limit of power for both Hollows and Shinigami could not be surpassed without interference from the other. Hence, the existence of Arrancar and the Vaizard became a reality.

A meeting had been called which gathered the Espada to Sonken Kouhai that day. This was the first time in years that all of the current Espada had been gathered at once in one place, even if three spots were currently vacant. Decima, Cain. Octava, Cierro Muerte. Septima, Myzaraphiston Synderfull. Quinta, Rio Demonliogalgo. Tercera, Zeruel Moreno De Las Noches IX. Segunda, Kuroi Naito. Primera, Adalo De-Mona. Included in the meeting were others as well. Exequias Leader, Shiroi Hokai. Hand of the King, Guujin Karai. A black statue of a multi-armed monster, several meters tall, towered at the left hand side of Sonken Kouhai's throne. Behind him, another visitor in the meeting, loomed a shadow nearly three meters tall, silhouetted by the darkness. Only glowing orange eyes were visible.

The one that had earlier remarked on the evening spoke once more. "Why are we gathered here...?" The speaker, Ampharos Blastoda, was a rather rebellious Arrancar who had once held the rank of Espada long ago, during the days of Azeru Cho. He was no longer an Espada. He had been demoted to Privaron back then as well, and was simply still alive to the present day. "An excellent question." Kouhai responded with his cold smile. He snapped his fingers, and the floor in the middle of the room parted, revealing a hole. A platform rose up, revealing a round white table with chairs all around it, one for each of the Arrancar, who seated themselves as the floor evened out. "Would anyone like something to drink?" Kouhai asked politely.

Once all had their respective drinks, Kouhai got to business. "My dear Espada." he opened. "We are under attack." Some of the Espada perked up upon hearing these words. "Ampharos Blastoda is the surviving witness to the deaths of four Numeros in our army at the hands of the subordinates of a former Numero from within our own ranks, Kouen Akarui." A projector from the table created a two dimensional holographic picture of Kouen Akarui for all of the Espada to see. "While during his time here he was a Fraccion, it was brought to my attention that he was more powerful than we were led to believe. He was at the level of an Espada by the time he left us, and is now a member of the Escudo faction."

No one said anything. Kouhai continued. "It is my knowledge that Kouen Akarui is a Zarpa within their ranks, holder of the numbers 5 and 2. This would mean that his Espada targets are Rio and Kuroi." Neither Espada said anything. "Oi, Kuroi! Ain't that guy your former Fraccion?" someone in the room yelled, earning Kuroi's glare, silencing them immediately. Kouhai smiled widely. "Indeed, Kouen Akarui was a member of Kuroi's unit." he confirmed. "And that is why I have called this meeting. Ampharos has a twin with whom he was born into the mold of Arrancar, and they have telepathic communication. It is through this that we have learned the whereabouts of Kouen Akarui. He's in the human world right now. I would like one of you to take care of him."

There were many volunteers, minus the Segunda. "Kuroi..." Kouhai noted. "He was your former Fraccion." Sonken Kouhai's eyes narrowed in amusement as his smile widened. Kuroi met the King's gaze. "Why don't you deal with him?" Kouhai asked. "If that is your wish." Kuroi replied with an unreadable face and stoic voice. Kouhai's smile did not waiver, and the meeting continued. At the end, Kouhai had words for them. "Do not worry, my dear Espada." he said. "Do not falter. We are invincible. So long as you remain with me, nothing will come to pass that we cannot handle. Return to your daily lives. I will gather you again when the threat has been eliminated." With that, the meeting was dismissed. Later, the body of Ampharos Blastado would be found in pieces within the labyrinth of the Privaron.

Kuroi later was in the meeting room of Las Noches, at the meeting table, and it was to here that he had called Marcelius. Any who served the Segunda were to meet him there. "We have a mission." Kuroi stated bluntly as Marcelius entered the meeting room. His new subordinate was one that he had not yet formed a real relationship with, so Kuroi opened with business. The Segunda Espada, with his stoic, monotonous vocal disposition, prepared to elaborate upon the nature of their mission, so as to give that proper understanding to Marcelius. When Marcelius did not respond, Kuroi knew that he could continue with speaking to his subordinate. Meanwhile, he also knew that Marcelius would divine what was happening before the Segunda had even finished speaking. The events of the throne room would leak out of Kuroi's mind quite easily enough.

"We are to locate a Zarpa within the human world." Kuroi said. "His life is forfeit." Images flashed through Kuroi's mind of Kouen Akarui. Simultaneously, Kuroi thought of the Privaron that he had left in pieces only minutes earlier, without getting a drop of blood or an ounce of dust on himself. Kuroi's suit was always in flawless condition. Seated at one of the ends of the meeting table, Kuroi had a very proper way of sitting. Neither of his elbows touched the table top. "He is not a weak opponent." Kuroi further elaborated. "We will need to find an opportunity to kill him, and will therefore wait him out." It was just then that Kuroi sensed an approaching reiatsu. It was an Arrancar's, and was at a moderately high level. It was also familiar. It was one which he recognized.

Surprise did not show in his body language or on his face, though a surge of it swept through his mind upon the arrival in the room of one who was his subordinate. Miho Shoga had disappeared months ago, and he had since given up looking for her. She had been the first of Kuroi's former team to go. It was her disappearance which had caused Kouen to betray them in the first place. Kuroi noted Miho's choice of attire as she entered, still stunned by her sudden presence, and drinking in the sight of his Fraccion as if she were surreal, or a dream. It was impossible. She could not possibly be alive after months of missing like that. Kuroi himself had gone missing before, but it was a quirk of his. He was also an Espada. A Fraccion surviving that long was unheard of.

Kuroi was confused and surprised, and therefore relief and other emotions did not cross through his soul in that moment. All that he had was disbelief. Then, as he began to adjust to the situation, and he started to accept the reality of it and the ramifications, he evaluated Miho with his eyes. Her reiatsu had grown a little bit more tempered. She herself had grown a little bit more built, though was still slender. Miho's outfit displeased the Segunda Espada. It was lacking in class. There were many things which Kuroi might say or wanted to say to open for his long missing subordinate, whom he half suspected may have returned to attempt to kill him. He prepared himself for battle, just in case of this, and his reiatsu tensed itself. He could fire a Cero at any moment if desired. That said, he did greet her. "Miho." Kuroi noted.

Then, he had a question for her.

"Where is your suit?"

[Deleted]

There were so many things that could be said in that moment. 'I kinda missed you and everyone else' was one of them but she wouldn't dare say it. She wouldn't dare show weakness to her boss. It was all kinds of wrong. It would reflect poorly on not only Kuroi but herself. Whoa. Miho considering others aside from herself? That's fairly new and it's almost suspicious. The she-devil would shift her weight to one leg as one hand rested on her hip. She half-wondered if he thought that maybe she'd come here to kill him. It was no secret after all. She'd voiced her plans to kill him one day to his face boldy and stood by it. Well she did in the past, her plans for now included nothing of the sort. Miho had retuned with an agenda that didn't involve hurting Kuroi. No. It was something different. Besides, she had the strange thought that her boss and the rest were something like a twisted and very distant family to her.

Her own scarlet pair would glance around, taking in the sights of this somewhat familiar room. She'd fought in here with Nijuu once if memory served her right. This was back when she trying out for Kuroi's fraccion. She fought Nijuu while Chisoku and Kouen fought each other. This room has seen it all. The crashes and the burns along with the holes via ceros. It was a fond memory, yes. However, she wouldn't crack so much as a small smile. This was Miho after all. All bitter and no sweet. It would be then her eyes finally laid upon the pair in front of her. There was no else but Kuroi and this ...ugh...Who's this guy in the monkey suit?

Miho would tilt her head ever so slightly at the aged man that stood besides Kuroi with great curiosity. Maybe he's as old as dirt... she thought. He had that kind face most blondies seem to have. Man. She just seemed to attract all kinds of 'nice' and 'warm' and 'cuddly' personalities. It made her fuckin' sick. Scarlet eyes would show a glimmer akin to a predator's gaze as she targeted the unfamiliar being. She slowly scanned him from head to toe with interest. Now what, oh what, could he be capable of? Her interest lingered on for a brief moment before she got tired of trying to figure him out. Though, the look she gave him afterwards was most unwelcoming and so she'd shrug with hapless sigh. Not that she had anything against him. Miho was just a caustic girl who didn't quite care for most people. Blondie here was probably going to have to learn that the hard way. It really depended on how he'd react to vicious and menacing. None the less she'd offer a snide smirk to his small smile. It was as close to "Hello~!" as he was going to get from her.

She walked towards Kuroi with her usual violent apathetic glory and the closer she got to him the more her lips would spread into a grin that was something vitriolic and nasty. She raised her hands as if to say she came in peace and that she meant no harm. "Hn. Boss. It's me. The tension's so thick that you could practically cut it with a knife. What gives?" Her voice held various tones of playful and malice. She wanted to play it off in the most nonchalant way she could. Truly, she was curious as to why it felt so tense and her heart pounded. Was he going to kill her for this? She'd left in the name of growing stronger for the rest of them and herself but, that didn't stop the menacing man before her from skinning her alive for skipping town for a bit. She'd put her hands down as her head motioned towards man she'd never seen before. "Who's the blondie?" She was aware he could be another subordinate, more than likely to replace her. Regardless, she'd ask because seriously, who is he?

"Where is your suit?"

She'd offer the Segunda a small laugh. He was the same as always. How typical. This new guy was a bit of a shock but in her eyes it was still a little nice to see something remained the same. But seriously, the suit thing was just like Kuroi. The man was as cold as ever and she just had to laugh. That was just like him. "The jacket held me back so I disposed of it. That a problem?" she offered him a quizzical look as she asked. She was really hoping not to, but she'd go get another jacket if he wanted to. It was such a hassle to wear the damn thing. She couldn't help but want to cut it to ribbons each time she wore one. It pissed her off.

It then became apparent something was missing. She blinked a few times and turned around. Almost as if they'd appear after each blink or that they'd appear behind her. Almost as if they were setting up some sort of prank or something ridiculous. Their usual antics. "...Boss? she asked in a small and surprisingly, girlish, voice. She turned to Kuroi with clear confusion written all over her face. "Where's the others..?

[Marcelius]

Miho Shoga. Now this was a name that Marcelius had indeed come across before. In moments that passed in the breath of a single whim, he witnessed this young woman within the memories most dear to Kuroi. The images he sawwere thin and transparent, when compared to the vividness with which Miho actually lived. Her colors were wild, embodying the brightest of hues. Observing her was a pleasure, there was no other way to describe it. To Marc's credit, and to debunk those accusations of more perverse nature, this had nothing to do with the young woman's looks. No, her beauty was something that was more unique, and purely her...than simply a symmetrical face and desirable features.

When she felt something, it seemed to always come in the form of multiple Emotions. Following her entrance, her pallet had changed from apprehension, to a shimmering joy...before debating between some mild form of anger and anticipation. All of this, in seconds. It was so quick, that Marc had some trouble keeping up. What made it all so significant, was each portion was sincere. Both in heart, and upon her expression, she conveyed it all. Even her discontented curiosity in regards to the old timer who crossed eyes with her. Yes, he saw the confidence which illuminated those eyes. Not to belittle her predator's glare, for he did respect all of the capabilities he knew she possessed, his face still turned into that of a musing father. It always made him happy to see such power and life in a fellow Arrancar...even if it meant feeling the burn of their threatening glare.

And what a glare it was, burning eyes that seemed a shade of scarlet. How they must turn to the deepest of reds when she becomes provoked. If not for the dismemberment, it might be quite the see. Such thoughts did not cross her mind of him, no...this old man was just a standing figure of dirt. Apparently, one who stood out as nothing among all the other warm faced, fair haired fools. Now that, was enough to cause him a chuckle. As her had been so rude, jumping into the volume of her thoughts without proper introduction, he quietly allowed her inspection. He was of frail spirit, well...in regards to the Segunda. The calm of his reiatau was much akin to that of Kuroi's...just fainter. What warmth might come from his soul would not be detectable, not with such a powerful host as the Espada in the room with them.

So it would be clear, he was insignificant in spiritual prowess. That said, the seams of his suit were burdened. A tailored fit, yet, there was the strain that confessed the physique beneath was much more competent. Perhaps this would clue her in to his skills? What he was capable of. Regardless, her light sigh was telling enough for him. The two of them turned to face the real character of importance in this immediate drama. Oh, and those mixed matched thoughts of attacking, or even killing, Kuroi; Marc simply dismissed those as idle notions. There was not enough certainty or purpose, for her to have any plans of assassination. Besides, what threat she may have posed was obliterated the moment she exposed herself to the Espada's line of sight. All in all, he was beyond relief that this was not the case.

Watching these two together, represented one of the few things that could strike Marc to such a deep silence. Given that one of the others was respect for Segunda, the old Hollow might as well have been mute. This woman's impression was that of the most malicious sort. Something Kuroi must have enjoyed when deciding to recruit her. Yet her tone was so shifty. Just as her moods before, even when she spoke in front of him...she could not maintain a focus. This precarious personality...was it her normal condition, or something her former Espada inspired. No sooner could he ponder this question, had he heard himself referenced. Ah, so he did make an impression. He even garnered a new nickname; now that is an optimistic sign if ever there were one. Preparing himself for the Segunda's introduction, he would happily inform Miss Miho of his name and purpose. It would seem there was some disruption in Kuroi as well. She was to be wearing a suit? Well, Miho was indeed previous Fraccion. What doubts before were now solidified.

Celebration canceled. This was another rogue Fraccion, possibly of the same mentality as Kouen. Become quite the hypocrite, his observations of her emotions now shifted to that of her body. How her posture rested, the various muscle groups she kept taunt, and the sound of her reiatsu...he eyed it all with the up most caution. Trust, he had shown it far too quickly. Simply disregarding the clear concepts of Kuroi's death...how careless. So he watched, ready to respond to any surprises that might be in the works. Despite the Espada being quite capable on his own, Marcelius was a being of caution and tertiary plans. Then her question. One of suspicion and a level of concern that seemed misplaced within her. She asked of her comrades, all of whom now bare the moniker of "former".

A chill of deepest grief overtook him. For he was certain of the answer that was to come. Not as a message of condolence or closure, but as an icy guillotine...devoid of compassion or merciful restraint. Miho had betrayed a side of her, she might presume to be cloaked and hidden. There was a crack in her voice, on Marc had already heard. Before, when her return was not greeted by the familiar faces to which she had braced her heart to see. Her soul sang of the disappointment, even if her voice stayed hush. Now it was all about to come to light. Worse still, the following confessions regarding today's agenda. The sole survivor of those former...friends, was already destined for death. One, filled with the worst of Despairs.

[Zou ۞]

SPOILER: Click to show

Kuroi finally decided that Miho posed no threat to him, and had indeed come back as intended. Even if she did mean to kill him, she was still in a state of ploy. He doubted that it was her plan, though he was prepared in the event that it was. However, judging by what he witnessed at the moment, she was not here to kill him. No, she was far too weak. She would have been more clever if that had been her plan. She would have waited longer before returning. If anything, the gap in Kuroi and Miho's latent abilities had widened over their time apart. Kuroi was by far the faster grower out of the two of them, there was no doubt about that. This meant that she posed no threat. She was too weak to kill him. She knew that. He knew that she knew that.

In that case, if she was genuine, then as her superior, Kuroi was obligated to tell her of what had happened to her former subordinates. This would be the first time Marcelius, with his innate ability to read thoughts and emotions, received a true, ghastly look at what had happened to the other three. Kuroi's encounter with Kouen Akarui had been at the end of a mission, after which time Kouen had shouted at the other two, and stomped away, leaving the mission by Garganta. Later, Kuroi had kept tabs on Kouen with Pesquis, and had intercepted him before the Fraccion attempted to leave. After a terse argument, Kuroi allowed Kouen to leave only because of respect for his former subordinate. He had shown mercy for one time, and one only. The next time they met, Kouen would only receive Despair.

Nijuu's use of Saigo No Houmen was one that Kuroi remembered very vividly as well. Nijuu's entire body had turned to stone, and he had unleashed a shockwave of tremendous power. It had been a blast of epic proportions, composed only of sonic vibrations throughout the air. The Captain Commander had been hit dead on. While the Captain Commander had been so powerful as to be able to blast it away, the Shinigami had still been injured, enough so for Kuroi to grab Nijuu and make his escape. This of course however was only seconds after the death of Chisoku, whom Kuroi had witnessed having his tongue horribly ripped out by the Captain Commander, along with the throat. It had been gruesome indeed. Perhaps Nijuu's Saigo No Houmen had also been fueled by the need for bitter revenge.

Since that day, Kuroi had sworn vengeance on the Captain Commander. He had also visited Nijuu more than once in the human world, in the hopes of finding some use for his subordinate. Indeed, Nijuu had his uses as a spy in the human world, and someone who could undergo Kuroi's business transactions as a medium. Regardless, Kuroi did indeed feel nostalgia for the old group he had once had, and would have preferred to have Nijuu at his side as an Arrancar, not on the sidelines as a human. Either way, the facts stood. One dead, one traitor, and one no longer able to proceed. Kuroi did not feel as if he owed a deeper explanation to Miho. She would only grieve more if he told her about what was to come, so Kuroi's answer was concise, and not entirely true.

"...They died." Kuroi said simply. That was all. Just that. It was all that Kuroi was planning to say on the matter. Indeed, one had died, but the other two were both still alive and well. However, by condensing all three into the same fate, he spared Miho the anguish that would come from realizing one was a traitor, and another powerless. More than out of mercy, Kuroi spared Miho that anguish for strategic value. She had been very attached to Kouen Akarui, and he to her. In fact, Kouen had betrayed them because Miho left. Kuroi did not wish for Miho to lose her stability, especially in the face of a mission, thinking she had led to Kouen leaving, which technically had also led to the incomplete team which allowed Chisoku to die. Miho blaming herself was unhealthy.

In addition to it being unhealthy, it was dangerous. If she knew Kouen was still alive, she might even try to find him and attempt to convince him to come back. Unfortunately, Kouen was too far gone. Even if he did have a change of heart, he had no choice but to die. Las Noches could not be seen as a group so weak that a traitor like Kouen could be permitted back into their midst on a whim. Kuroi realized this, and Sonken Kouhai surely did. The King of Las Noches had already spoken, and Kuroi fully intended to carry out the King's will. The Segunda Espada was able to very calmly rationalize the situation almost on the spot. Kuroi cocked his head to the side, introducing the new one. "This is Marcelius. He will be a part of our group from now on. I trust you will be able to work well together. Your powers are very complimentary toward one another."

Kuroi was careful not to use the word "replacement." While statistically speaking, Marcelius was replacing one of the others in terms of numbers and as a soldier, there was no way to emotionally replace them, either for the Segunda, though he kept that particular trail of thoughts buried deep down where even his new Fraccion could not find them, nor for Miho. He was careful to make it very clear that Marcelius was not a "replacement." He was an "addition." Kuroi felt that this would not infuriate Miho, and it would affirm to Marcelius as well that he had more worth than a mere object. To serve under the Segunda was to be bound by blood.

[Deleted]

[[ooc: Oh man. Long post is long. Sorry. xD; ]]

---

Marcelius was soon going to learn that Miho was never just one emotion at a time. Instability and chaos were trademark qualities of her's ...especially before her little trip. She'd felt the need to act out and outright hurt people for her own personal gain and in hopes of strengthening her own powers. The man whom looked at her like a father had this look of infinite wisdom...which...essentially, is the same look most old fools have. Not that it bothered her completely...she just hoped he wasn't going to bark at her. Still, the aged came with wisdom and wisdom was power and power made her happy...or rather, it just gave her a feeling of temporary safety. After all, one can never be too comfortable in the wasteland that is Las Noches.

He was tall...Much taller than her. She felt as though he was towering over her and looking down on her ...maybe. Hey, she knew she was a bitch. It was a look she was used to, even in her human years. But this guy had this fatherly thing about him that she so desperately couldn't shake. Miho had never done well with father-figures in her life. Nuh-uh. She'd might as well start digging her grave if it came to dealing with one. She'd often been betrayed by them...or they just disappeared too quickly. Miho could never truly rely on anyone. She could feel the fraccion's eyes observing them thoughtfully, as if he were trying to read them. Maybe he was trying to understand the situation. She had no idea he was some kind of mind reader. That bit of information alone would've set her on edge. At least he wasn't loud or stupid...or didn't seem to be at least. Hey. If the blondie kept going on like this, she could actually tolerate him. Miho waited for an answer from Kuroi about the mission fraccion...Only to hear two stupid words that'd change her for the entirety of her time here. "...They died."

"What?"

It would seem that today the ravenette would have her world rocked. It'd be thrust into total darkness. She felt paralyzed. Suddenly there was no air. Suddenly she felt as though she just couldn't breathe. It would be in this moment, now more than ever, that Miho would be a horde of fleeting emotions. They were electrifying. There was outrage and horror. There was pure shock and confusion. There was everything except happiness which, of course, wasn't new. However, the magnitude of it all was tremendous. Normally, she would've burst out and out right said something. She'd go off on a rampage. Destroying everything in sight. Tearing the place apart and screaming like a banshee. It was what she felt like doing in this very moment. Self restraint would have meant shit to her then. However, she'd changed. She wouldn't dare show Kuroi that she'd hadn't change for the better by acting like that...and so, she just simply allow a staggering silence to encompass the room.

Anyone that looked into the hellion's eyes would see that the once violent tone she held was long gone. Instead, it appeared as if it were a prelude to a breakdown. Marcelius was going to have a field day reading her emotions. Miho felt her heart swell up at the mere words. Her chest felt tighter and even though she had a hollow hole where here heart should be, she still felt immense pain nonetheless. Had she said anything in that same moment, she probably would have choked. One could see the color drain from her alabaster skin as the reality of it all started to sink in even more. She felt sharp icicles drop into the pits of her stomach and before she knew it she was losing balance. She remained quiet. Flashes of each one of the fraccion instantly started to rush back to her. Espeically flashes of Kouen whom she'd shared her most fondest memories with...and then she was instantly forced into heartbreak as she'd reminded herself...They were dead.

"I can defeat your darkness. I can warm your heart. Miho, I will not let you carry your pain alone. I will help you cope with it, I will be there when you face new pain, and I will not let you down or leave your side."

"That idiot. That stupid idiot. Those promises. Those stupid FUCKING promises...!" she kept thinking about the promises Kouen made to her. She'd remembered every single one. Even if they were extremely cheesy and stupid and sounded super dumb...they meant the world to her. He'd been her only ally. Her only true ally and that was because he really, truly, cared for her. He cared for her more than anyone in fuckin' Las Noches. There wasn't a bone in her body that doubted that. Chisoku and Nijuu...Those idiots...Those fricken' morons...How the hell did this happen!? Of all people she certainly didn't imagine herself being the lone survivor of this group. Miho's face grew hot and her eyes would flutter. As the seconds passed she grew more and more misty eyed until she finally shed a few tears. She'd lower her head, allowing her hair to cover her face. Her stature no longer looked confident or vivacious. It had been as if she's walking on ice and she felt unstable...Unable to keep up for a moment. Like she'd been knocked off whatever pedestal she'd been standing on. Miho felt as though she'd been stabbed in the heart again.

"....How did this happen? Is it...because I left?"

She looked up at the fearsome Segunda. She'd spoken to him as if she were in some kind of kid that was in trouble. Still, it was a stupid question but at the moment, she wasn't in a very good frame of mind. She knew he'd never console her or offer any words of kindness or grief. Not a chance in hell. She questioned if he even cared in the first place. He was a man who never showed weakness or any kind of emotion. He was guarded and untrusting so it was more than likely he wasn't going to answer her question. The fraccion who had so boldly claimed she felt no compassion for those around her and had no heart had heartbreak written all over her face. This was about as genuine as it gets from her. She struggled greatly to maintain her normal facade; the facade of a violent, malicious she-devil...However, the touch bitch act was gone for now. There was nothing in her that allowed her to keep it up. Not with this kind of news. Not even the news of Marcelius' powers being complimentary to hers would be enough to uplift her spirits in this moment. Though, in other circumstances it would. Regardless, a small part of her was almost pleased that her comrade would be able to work in conjunction with her. To this, she'd offer Marcel-- Blondie, a slight nod before looking away.

But he was no Kouen. He wasn't Chisoku...and he sure as hell wasn't Nijuu. All she had left of those memories was the man that had tied them together; Kuroi. She'd come back to serve him and now, more than likely, she was going to cling to that....Which really meant, she wasn't going anywhere. She was officially here to stay. That most certainly didn't mean she felt kind of withdrawn from the two right now. She racked her brain as she desperately tried to rationalize an answer as to how this all happened. She wanted to leave to become stronger for them...but if it cost their lives then it sure as hell wasn't worth it...

Kuroi wasn't wrong for thinking of this stragetically it seems...He was dead right.

Not that Miho would ever know. She believed Kuroi 100%. Never in her wildest dreams could she have the events that transpired in the midst of her disappearance. No way would she have believed Chisoku had his throat ripped or that Nijuu was human again....Or worst of all, the boy she'd been so attached to was now a traitor. "You've forgotten the feeling of love, but I will rekindle it. You've been betrayed by someone similar to me, but I have been betrayed as well. I know the feeling, and I will never betray those around me." Tch. Cheesy as ever. But, there wasn't a single reason for her to believe he'd become a traitor after that conversation. Her chats with Kouen just came flooding in. The antics and good times she had with Chisoku and Nijuu did too. Even if they were punks that liked scare the living crap out of her. She still liked them. She liked all of them.

[Marcelius]

(OoC: You two! Setting that post bar so dang high! XD )

"Today was going to be a great day...", how bitter it was, to be so wrong. Like a stout tonic, which burned the lips and startled the mind from the sleepiness of optimism. Marc found himself cursing his fool-hearted, wishful thinking. Worse still, was how far things had fallen. This was supposed to be the first day, the first step towards a brighter future. Yet, the opening act had turned to painful, tragic performance. What should have been the fond welcome of a returned ally, was now the crumbling sounds of a soul losing ground. All her hopes and expectations, the foundations of her risky return, cracking beneath the strain of cruel reality.

Upon Marc's face, no smile could survive. A grimace took hold of him, one born of insight and empathy. For what the Segunda recalled, he did indeed observe. Not only seeing, the horrid and visceral details...but hearing the anger and desperation in every voice, feeling the biting chill upon anxious nerves, smelling the blood as it swept through the wind. More than just the bodily sensations, memories employed an emotional duress as well. To see such death, such sacrifice, and such betrayal...all from companions held in the closest, and highest regards. Only a mind as seasoned, or otherwise conditioned, as Marc's could handle such firsthand experience. Unfortunately, this was but an appetizer. The repressed and subdued flavor of guarded soul.

Deafening, was the volume of a breaking heart. A sound that is felt, even for those who do not see as Marc sees. For Kuroi, it is more likely the tune of his works and deeds...as the Harbinger of Despair has undoubtedly divided many loved ones. Vertically, and horizontally. So Marc knew he could not be the only one listening to Miho...to all the things her crippled voice could not speak. Chaos, a trait she once embraced and displayed by will, now consumed her. Body tingling with the need to act, to break and destroy until the muscles and tendons were as torn as her spirit. Yet she could not, her mind would not allow such rage. Instead, a sudden paralysis that seemed to clutch her body in noticeable fashion. Just as before. He saw it all. Unlike the common soul, he could not close off his senses and deny the anguish. His mind would not, and could not, dismiss or ignore any of Miho's agony.

The memories supplied her with joys to cherrish, followed by the crushing despair that memories were all that remained. Words from Kouen, so sweet and splendid. Consultation for her worries and her fears, promises to save her from...everything. These recollections were now disarrayed, by the same terrors that made her crave such affections to begin with. She was suffering, in ways that most do not live long enough to learn. Unexpected, and unbelievable pains. Though she could not know it, she did not endure her fate alone. No, there was two here for her...in their own ways. Kuroi with his silence, devoid of condemnation or punishment. Then there was that blondie, whom she barely knew. True, he had only met her in the passing seconds before, but seconds may feel as lifetimes. He knew her. Not by way of some trick or assumption, but by study and sympathy. He took the time to learn, to listen. It was as much his obligation as a fellow Fraccion, as it was his sincere nature. Sadly, as she was just about to tolerate him for his respectful silence, he felt inclined to speak up.

Respect for the Espada could not hold his tongue any longer. This moment had been for them, and it was well deserved. Their history together, was indeed, too complex and length for his sight to fully comprehend. However, their were variables for which the Segunda's calculations may not have equated. The wisdom and intentions of Kuroi were well beyond Marc's right to question, nor would he ever do so, but Miho's reaction was not suitable. No strong face or bold claim could undo, or cover up what Marcelius had witnessed. The lie had not spared her all of the suffering, no matter how much good it may have done. Worse still, was the lifespan of this particular falsity. Surely there was a plan in motion for that; Kouen's eventual discovery. Until then, "No. You cannot be held responsible." Having finally spoken up, a voice deep tone, and a rasp that only comes with age.

"Their fates were, as for all life, a result of their choices. Just as your continued life, is a result of yours. Do not forget that, as you would not forget them." She needed to know her innocence. Having seen the past as Kuroi had, he perceived many possible conclusions to the many choices made. Miho's presence would surely have changed it...but for the better or worse was for none to decide. As such, this young woman's suffering should not stray. Grief for her friends...not remorse for her lack of a role. To this end, everything about Marc conveyed his conviction to what he said. Especially, the pain in his darkened eyes...born of the same emotions that she had felt. The aggravation for Nijuu and Chisoku, a kind of love only the closest of siblings could conspire. The destruction caused by Kouen; which none but a lover could wrought. The loneliness...to which Kuroi's separation had left her. But would his words have any weight? Would they even matter?

The cure for this affliction, would be best dispensed by the Espada. Now before the both, Marcelius having moved to Miho's side, all eyes turned to Kuroi. Marc could feel the expectation, lingering in the roaring noise of her mind. It was a very common emotion, one she should hold no shame in. "Kuroi..." He started, but soon dissolved. It was truly too much to ask, this much was clear. Marcelius, a master of his craft, knew the divide which existed between Naito and the world. He had seen it; cold, black, and buried where no light should ever disperse it. For Miho, the reassurance of her only remaining connection...her only prove, would prove infinitely beneficial. But to attain such a support, was a surreal notion. Like the moon appearing so close as to be grasped; but truthfully beyond all hope of reach. This was reality, plain and efficient. Marc certainly did not blame the Segunda...as he acted out of necessity. For now, Miho's strength would be there for her. As too would her fellow Fraccion. And...in a way uniquely him, her Espada most of all. Marcelius was left to hope, that this would be enough.

[Zou ۞]

SPOILER: Click to show

Kuroi did not interrupt interaction between Marcelius and Miho. There was no point in such a thing. Rather, they should get acquainted. Miho, he knew, would be touched internally by the words that were given by her new comrade. Externally, normally, she would appear unaffected. That said, she would understand them. Kuroi had no need to interfere. There was nothing left at all to say to either Miho or Marcelius about Kouen Akarui, Chisoku Re-Za, or Nijuu Tentei. There was nothing that Kuroi wanted to say about any of them either, at present. Marcelius would be able to note the subtle change in Kuroi's emotions, which closed off and began to grow more blurred, farther away, and more silenced. Kuroi was gradually becoming a black hole of stoicism and silence, where nothing could be felt. That was how he blocked out the memory.

"We have a mission to accomplish." Kuroi informed Miho and Marcelius. It was true. They did have a mission to accomplish. They had more than one mission, as a matter of fact. This was why Kuroi believed that he would be able to hide Kouen from Miho. She was not going to discover the Escudo member, for there was more than one piece of the puzzle. The mission had several divergent routes. Kuroi, well aware that Marcelius was perceptive, had explained part of what they were doing earlier, so that Marcelius would know Kouen's death was a lie. This meant he had left clues so as to allow his new recruit to catch on, and understand that they were hiding it from Miho. The rest of the explanation was for Miho alone.

"We will be recruiting another new Arrancar." Kuroi explained to the both of them. "He is unaffiliated, and lives in hiding in the human world. His location is Karakura Town, where he can blend in with the mass of reiatsu that exists there. This will be the third of our new group." Kuroi allowed several moments of pause, so that both could drink in his new information delivered. It was indeed a part of the mission. He wanted to recruit someone. The one he wanted to recruit was in Karakura Town. His target for killing, Kouen Akarui, was in Tokyo at that time. Karakura was not far from Tokyo, which would allow them to quickly arrive there after recruiting the new Arrancar, or perhaps would allow them to split up and match dual purposes.

"The new recruit is named Desgarron Cyndaquil. Locating him will be difficult, as he is a master of hiding in this town. Regardless, it seems he lacks the common sense to use an alias if he does not wish to be found, and so we will not have an enormous amount of trouble in locating him. After we have located him, we will stop in Tokyo, where you will all have the opportunity to get acquainted. I have business there that I must attend to." Marcelius would naturally understand what the business was, but Miho of course would not. The true purpose of their mission was not to recruit Desgarron Cyndaquil, as this could be done at any time. In actuality, it was simply a side stop that Kuroi felt they may as well get out of the way.

SPOILER: Click to show

Meanwhile, in Tokyo...

Two men sat facing one another in the booth of a commonplace Tea Station in Tokyo, both with steaming cups of hot green tea. Both were dressed in elegant black tuxedos, and one had on black gloves over his hands. The other had on a white metal ring. "You're certain?" one of them asked. His lips curved into a deviant, confident smile. He appeared to be young, and yet very self assured. He had the sort of cream tan skin tone that could only ever be aspired after by those who were not the world's supermodels, and was lusted after by all of the women in the more decadent and superficial countries. "I'm certain." the second replied. "My spies are never wrong. He will be here very soon."

The first one smiled all the more widely, and said nothing. He took a sip of his tea. Rather, he drank the entire cup, leaving nothing but the steam from the remaining, residual heat as he placed the porcelain cup back down onto the table. It was marked with a Japanese Kanji, 人生, or "Life." He indeed had a glow of "life" about him, as if he was absolutely certain of every choice, of every action, and of every word which he took, and was guided by divinity of the mind on a golden carpet, a pathway laid out perfectly before him into the Heavens, the paradise, and the wild green yonder. "We must prepare." the second urged insistently. He seemed far more intimidated than the first one did. He was more frightened.

The first paused a passing waitress so as to order more tea. This time, he went with chai. After that was done, he looked back at the second, his comrade. "We will." he said with all the calm in the world. He did not offer any further details, and by virtue of his good looks, happened to be a favorite in this establishment, allowing him to get his ordered tea very quickly, right after his answer as a matter of fact. He took a sip after thanking the waitress. "Aren't you worried?" the second asked the first. "He is powerful. You of all people should know that." The first pondered those words, and then grinned as he turned to the waitress. Powerful, confident orange eyes greeted her for his French toast order, and then Kouen Akarui turned back to his associate. "Worried about Kuroi? Not even close."

Back at Las Noches

Kuroi drew his left hand index finger through the air, and a perfectly shaped circular blackness materialized before him. It was a Garganta, poised to take them anywhere that they wanted to go. In this case, they would all be going to Karakura Town. Kuroi indicated to Miho and Marcelius that they both should step foot into his Garganta before he did. He accomplished this by means of a simple nod at them, and then in the direction of his Garganta. Once both were in, Kuroi turned back to the circular void of blackness. "Let's go." Kuroi said, and then he stepped inside of the Garganta and prepared himself for the mission ahead.

OOC: Hoping one of you can paint the human world scene in your post, and have us getting out of the Garganta.

[Deleted]

[[ooc: This post sucked. I'm sorry D: ]]

---

For once in her life, she wasn't totally opposed to someone opening their mouth. Miho was snapped out of miserable daze when she heard a fatherly voice (Yes. We're going with this). Her eyes fluttered and slowly turned in the direction of her newly affectionately nicknamed comrade, Blondie. It was deep and it vaguely reminded her of her adoptive father y'know...when he was nice to her and stuff. "No. You can not be held responsible." Alright! He had her attention. She turned fully to face him with a look that screamed the need for some sort of explanation. Her lip quivered ever so slightly as she waited for him to speak. This was quite a vulnerable position Miho was in. Her heart felt heavier and heavier with each second passing.

"Their fates were, as for all life, a result of their choices. Just as your continued life, is a result of yours. Do not forget that, as you would not forget them. As he spoke, it took everything to not breakdown. Why did it still feel like her fault? Why did it feel like if she stayed, things would be different? Why did it take death for her to truly cherish what the others meant to her? It was a bitter pill to swallow; she should have cared more and she should've opened her eyes instead of being so damn blind. Miho was starting to blame herself despite Marcelius' words. Still, the ravenette would find herself taking solace in her comrade's words. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't fuckin' believe it. Teammates who she proclaimed meant nothing to her made her feel like this. But you know what? She doesn't regret caring for them at all. Miho absolutely couldn't deny her feelings for her....former...comrades. They were special to her but she would never let those words come out of her mouth. Not that it mattered....Actions spoke louder than words.

She didn't move. Not an inch or a twitch. Like a cat who'd been going about her business and encountered a stranger, her scarlet eyes simply watched her comrade for a moment, studying him, before she turned away to look at Kuroi. She didn't have to say anything but the eyes were the window to the soul. He'd get a silent 'thank you' and nothing more. He'd been kind, her comrade that is. She truly was grateful but she would not show it. Miho just wasn't the type to be outwardly affectionate and kind and courteous. She'd never been that kind of person and never will be. Instead, she'd show her gratitude by at least being civil to the man. He'd uttered words she swore she'd never hear in a place like this. Not unless it was Asuka or Kouen. But that doofus, Asuka followed the beat of her own drum alot so she rarely saw her......And Kouen was dead. Typically she'd be disgusted but in this situation, things felt different. It was the worst kind of different possible.

"We have a mission to accomplish." Alright. Grieving time over. Miho stood tall. Her face was blank but she was attentive. The girl merely blinked as he spoke. Find this new turd and get him on our team. Easy instructions, yeah....But it's gonna be harder than finding a needle in a haystack. Truthfully, Miho wasn't entirely up to facing whatever craziness this mission had in store for her and blondie over there but it was probably what she needed. She needed to focus on something else for the time being. Miho shifted her weight to one leg as her hands found themselves at her hips. She wasn't going to show any indication that the new of her former comrade's death blew her out of the water even though it really did. She was the Segunda's fraccion. When it came down to the missions, no matter how grimy and wrongful it was, Miho was there to perform each task at her best and she would offer no less. She'd come to this powerful man to serve under him and nothing else. There was no betrayal or hidden agendas. She said she only worked with the most powerful and meant every word of it. At Kuroi's words, she'd give a simple nod of understanding. She was back. She was truly back.

Though, the real question is, 'Would her frame of mind change once she found out Kouen was alive?'.

Food for thought, isn't it? She briefly thought about Kuroi making all of them get acquainted. Bonding? Weird. Didn't seem like Kuroi's thing but she figured the whole 'working as a team' bullshit could only work if they got along. With this, she'd attempt to try to get along with this third. Attempt. Dark hair fell before her eyes as Miho's attention turned to garganta Kuroi opened. She calmly strode right in without comment, hands stuffed in her pockets, each step brought her closer to the dark, pitch black portal. Her large broadsword-like zanpakuto with the saw like edge was clearly visible on her back, laden with much more scratches than it had previously, proof she'd been fighting much more than she had in the past. She'd step in alongside the others and watch it close before her eyes. Miho, was still thinking about her comrades, replaying their images in her head for the duration of their Garganta trip...Which wasn't very long. Before she knew it, they were all in the sweet little town of Karakura. She sighed as her boots stepped upon the pavement, the swish her pants resounded in her ears as the only noise for a brief moment. The skies were dark, painted with iridescent stars with only the faint glow of some street lights to illuminate their way to finding this new addition. There wasn't a soul in sight where they were. There were houses, some with lights on and some with lights off. Something about tonight gave her feeling that made her hair stand on end...Not that she minded. Trouble was something she often played around with. She had an itch to get into some for the sole purpose of distraction...Alas they were here to do a mission and so Miho would turn to the fearsome Segunda awaiting further instructions

[Marcelius]

There it was again, that invasive silence that all of Las Noches was all too familiar with. It comes in, between moments of noise...hiding among the Noisy before they can even realize it is there. Colder than Kuroi's most frigid of shoulders. More painful that the bite of winter wind. It was that vacuous pit that spawned from every lie. Marcelius truly dislike them. Well versed in their manners and their culture; he knew deceit as closely as those such as the Segunda. Though he could not enjoy it, following along with the misinformation would not prove difficult in the least. For all of his passions and ideologies, loyalty was his most profound. So in the coming missions, assignments, requests , and ploys; Marc would never -ever- present a complication or concern for his Espada. This unfaltering commitment was to be his only solace in the face of performing certain, unsatisfying duties.

Now, a new perspective had come into play. This zealous young girl, and the bond witnessed between her and the Segunda. This was...this was family. Whilst drowning in the pain and emotional languish of the moment, a bit of inspiration loomed above like a clasp to keep a hold of. A future, far brighter than what had been planned, was already in the workings. It was here...in the individual lives of both the Espada and his Fraccion. Marc could see the way things should be, for even souls as wretched as those among the leagues of Arrancar could build such connections. The great evidence? The way Kuroi retreated into himself. This was as close to fear as the likes of Kuroi could ever hope to feel...and it was a strength, not a weakness. It was yet more opportunity. So he mused within his thoughts. "Mmm...imagine if the Segunda grew any more powerful."

Stronger. Yet another surreal concept when contemplated alongside this young man. Whether or not it was possible, his spirit appeared as such to forever seek it. This collection of Fraccion, and the desire to acquire more, could be confused as a step of that journey. Having subordinates, for whatever grand and abstruse designs he was planning, did seem a moot point. Such an independent and accomplished spirit; Kuroi was one who could thrive with out allies...if need be. So then, what was there to gain for him. Marc felt confident he could carve away the surface reasoning, but the Segunda was too complex for him to be certain of much more. The old Hollow once desired great hordes of comrades, though subordinates was never his interpretation of them.

One's potential can grow endlessly through the acquisition and training of cohorts, just by merit of influence. With numerous, powerful Fraccions; an Espada could arrange larger plans. It would be possible to complete several missions simultaneously. Missions for Las Noches, and for himself. It would be possible to advances one's strategies and plans at all times. Day or night. Without rest, without pause. Though none of them could ever ascend to the same effectiveness as him...properly trained, they would not have to. It was scary, enough to make an old soul shiver. Even being apart of something with such possibilities, well, it was intriguing to say the least.

This drew Marc's attention to Miho. The representation of continued progress. She was not a stepping stone, no, this would be a poor symbol. More like a lantern...burning and bursting with fiery zeal. Collecting her along the way, just as Marc had been; Naito was going to burn a path to a more agreeable existence. Marcelius had quite the indulgence for depicting those around him in such heroic impressions. It always made him happier about his situation, a secret habit. Doing such a thing for Miho was proving equally as pleasing. An exuberant woman, guided by passions and tortured by internal dissatisfaction...yet she would conquer the world at any moment. On the outside, she was the picture of preparation. To any who might inspect, she was primed for action. The same destructive energy that cried to be flaunted and displayed when her pain first started...it was still there, tense like a coiled wire.

This mission could be exactly what she needs to work out the initial stress, but that would not be enough to resolve her issues. Marcelius was never one to make quick or irrational judgments, the only reason he felt confident to believe such a thing about her, was based on what he had seen thus far. On this trip, he expected bother her reaction time to be slacked and her aggression to be more impulsive than normal. Of course, he still had not had any field experience with "Hellion"...so her performance was going to forgiven for any oddities. "Ah, old fool." She was going to be brilliant. She was the Seiunda's Fraccion, and would have never achieved such a standing without considerable talent. Given the level of control she exhibited over her outward demeanor, yes it was clear. Miho was going to do excellently. Having allowed himself to become so absorbed and enthralled by his concern for her inner struggle...he was over thinking things once again.

Those gleaming eyes were fighting back so much, yet hiding nothing. Upon his own face, in his own open iris, it was clear he was brimming with compassion for her pain. Had she any sense of people or suggestions of expression, she would know she was being worried for. It would seem confusing, that someone only just met...would possess such empathy. This might even be her first clue, as to what skills Marcelius truly had. Whether or not all of this would come to pass, her gratitude would be accepted with his own silence. Difference being, a much more apparent, warming smile. Gracious himself, for the acceptance they conveyed, it did not stop him from worrying. However, her heroic image returned to his mind once more. It caused him a stifled laugh.

So they were to begin. No more delay would come, the mission was upon them. It felt a ruse, but this was only for Marc's extended knowledge on the day's objectives. What concerns he had about their intended objectives, he kept cooly to himself. Only if asked, would he be willing to share his ideas. Gripping the clasp of his blade, he walked forward into the waiting maw. The darkness would soon close about them, and the decent towards the Land of the Living would begin. Checking the weapon at his side, more as ritual than concern. It lingered upon his right hip, indicating his left handed disposition. A broad sword, with a handle measuring near the same length as it's wide blade. What could be unique of it, was possibly the blunted blade; which bore no tip for impaling. No, it was a heavy tool...designed for cleaving upon bound enemies. An executioner's instrument. The guard seemed to be encased in a pelt of some kind, dim blonde fur hugging to the metal beneath. Clinging to his hip, it dangled from both a white, linen strap...and a yellow shawl. The pale scarf seemed an addition of affection, not utility...but upon it's unbroken surface there lay two dark, redden stains. Once he made sure of it's condition, the snugness of the straps, he went back to his idle thoughts.

Yet another thought did occur, one that twisted his nerves in search of a chuckle. With the effort having been put into mastering Gargantua so wholly, that it's journey felt more or less as a trip upon one of those Human World elevators...what if Kuroi had developed a way to play music for the passage as well? Truly, truly amusing. So much so, that in the silence of their travel...the large Arrancar began to whistle. It was a tick of his, one he often felt overly compelled to exercise. In this moment his age showed through...for he truly could not conceive his tune as an annoyance to his fellows. If none spoke up, they'd discover he had become quite good at this particular skill. So much so, that he could create quite the soothing, if not haunting, melody. It always did well to calm him when he was forced to remain still and patient for motion to begin again. Certainly, it must have been better than silence? Through his performance, he would feel no inclination to look about at the other's expressions...there was no need either, as he could hear their various outlooks as clearly as their faces could ever hope to express. Mmm, hopefully the Segunda's technique would not take took long to pass by.

Whether ages or mere seconds later, they would arrive. With their cave's teeth unclasped, it bore them entry to that most active of realms. Once again, as always...his senses became enveloped in a sudden tsunami of information. This, fortunately, was an enemy against whom he was well trained. Lifetimes of training and exposure had hardened his senses, much like the muscles and fibers of a warrior's composition. It took only a breath for him to catch an understanding of all the stimuli about his person. Pleasantly, it was night...the world was attempting to sleep. Into their dreams each and every person took and hid away their thoughts and emotions. All in all, it produced a much more muted, solemn performance. There point of arrival, had proven most fortuitous.

They stood upon a mighty structure, one of the tallest around. It appeared to be an office building, given that the limited occupants of it's 18 individual floors seemed to be obsessing over numbers and various, confusing papers. From this great vantage, the whole of Karakura could be viewed. The buildings, the streets, the river, and the mountains which distantly surrounded it's valley-like terrain. Not many around, as Miho contemplated. No...there were thousands and thousands around. In every direction, quietly being. Of this great mass, there were various individuals of considerable presence. The glowed and sang brighter than the lives surrounding them. Among them...Desgarrion was waiting for his discovery. Interestingly, he may not yet be aware of his great fortune. This was soon to change.

[Zou ۞]

Kuroi looked around the human world upon arrival. Karakura Town... he thought. He had been to Karakura Town far too many times for his own liking. However, the fact that it was the single most spiritually active town in the entire human world meant that visits had to be continuously made. Indeed, Kuroi understood. It was extremely spiritually dense, so much so that spiritually aware beings used it to come to hide when they needed to. Because it was so dense, they blended right into the blanket of reiatsu that others would sense. By choosing to live and blend in here, those same spiritually aware beings contributed to the overflow of reishi particles which dotted the entirety of Karakura Town. It made perfect sense, but this did not mean that Kuroi was by any means a fan of the town.

Marcelius would be able to take note of the images that flashed through Kuroi's mind in terms of some of those that he had encountered in Karakura Town. Among them were villains such as the Ogatago, King Shada, or Zouma Santeku. Kuroi had encountered and trained with a human here known as Nishiru Tokoheita, and had trained a disciple of his own here as well, known as Souzetsu Masarao. Indeed, Kuroi also had many contacts within this town, as it was the location in the human world that he frequented the most. The Vizard Company also hid here, though Soul Society was never successful in tracking them down to hunt them. Kuroi had been instructed by Sonken Kouhai to hold off on interfering with the Vizards, and so the Segunda Espada never approached them.

Even without sensors such as Marcelius on his team, Kuroi could sense many Hollows in the town, without even activating his Pesquis. He could not however sense the Shinigami who was supposed to be guarding this town. All towns like this had some sort of a Shinigami assigned to it, usually at third seat level or a little bit lower. This was simply to ensure that danger did not appear in Karakura. However, Kuroi had long ago learned that danger would never originate in this town, but would come to seek it out later. This town was far too dangerous for any being wishing for world domination. What looked like a peaceful cul de sac was a battlefield filled with death. Karakura had some of the most powerful beings existing in its vicinity.

Among those that lived in Karakura, Death-Sama as he had been called, the CEO of the corporation owned by spiritually aware races, Redemption, had once lived here, until his base of operations had been set up elsewhere. Also among those that frequented this town were the members of Xcution. The God of Murder, Satsujun, was said to live somewhere in this town. Kuroi had no interest in running into some of these people. Death-Sama was now deceased, and would not be a problem. However, the likes of Satsujun would be disastrous to run into. Therefore, it would be prudent to keep things in check. This was what made Kuroi one of the more tactically sound Espada. He knew when he might potentially be in grave danger.

"Maintain reiatsu silence." Kuroi instructed his two subordinates cautiously, as if they were in war. "If for some reason we are separated and you are thrown into battle, end it as quickly as possible, expend as little power as possible, and remain as inconspicuous as possible. There are many in this town whose attention it is unwise to attract, especially if you are an Arrancar." That being said, Kuroi was fairly confident that he was more powerful than anyone that lived here, and could kill the lot of them. It was simply precaution. Some, he knew, he could not kill without injury. He was also aware that he would die in a battle where some of these powerhouses had superior numbers. This was unacceptable.

Kuroi looked up at the sky and noted how the full moon shone brightly, pale light illuminating the incandescent streets. They were near a neighborhood, but Kuroi began to walk in a different direction from the houses. This soon led both Kuroi and his Fraccion to a sort of small town area with shops and restaurants. The coffee shop was still open, as were many of the restaurants near it. It may have been night, but it was early night. The night was young, and so were those that presently made it their business to party in the town area. The Segunda Espada looked around to confirm that none could see any of them. They were meant to visit an ally of Kuroi's, who could provide them with Gigai suited to Arrancar frames.

"Marcelius." Kuroi ordered. "Scan the area within ten miles of us for Arrancar signatures." Kuroi surmised that Pesquis would be required for this, but it was a good opportunity to see for certain. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a voice erupted through the night in a loud cry, a yell. "HEY, SCUM!" the voice yelled in a tone which Kuroi recognized. "THIS COFFEE IS FUCKING COLD! IT'S ONLY BEEN SITTING HERE FOR TWO MINUTES. WHY IS IT COLD?!" There were shuffling sounds, like a scuffle, and words of protest. "But...but sir...! It...it's still steaming!" An indignant shriek cracked the glass of the nearby coffee shop's window. "THAT'S COLD. I TOLD YOU I WANTED IT TO BE SCALDING. IF IT COULDN'T GIVE ME SERIOUS BURNS, THEN IT WAS TOO COLD."

"S...sir...! We can't make it that hot! It's difficult, and of course it cools quickly if it's that hot and you leave it open, and it's illegal in the first place, and..." the protester got no further before he was literally hurled through the glass window of the coffee shop, and deposited onto the asphalt sidewalk on the other side. Shards of glass stuck out of his body, and he was bleeding everywhere. He struggled and gasped, trying to stand and get to his feet. A tanned man with gelled back black hair and fiery eyes stepped out of the busted window, and picked up the coffee shop manager. He hoisted him up by the collar, and held him there, with the man's shirt beginning to choke his Adam's apple. "Hey, scum..." the tanned man whispered menacingly, in a threatening, low growl. "Make...better...coffee..."

He dropped the man and turned to walk away. He had not noticed Kuroi nor the rest of the group. Onlookers had stopped to stare at the angry man, and then chose to return to their business, fearing what had happened. One man helped the coffee shop manager back into the store and called an ambulance for him, so it was fine on that end. The angry, tanned man walking away sported torn black jeans, a white polo shirt, and had sunglasses hanging from the rim of his shirt where the buttons were not done. Naturally, Kuroi's main Karakura Town informant should not be so conspicuous or noisy, but given that he got the job done, Kuroi had no room for critique here. By this point, Kuroi also expected Marcelius to have finished the scan.

[Deleted]

The nasty little town of Karakura. Seemingly quaint, peaceful and quite frankly, full of bullshit. This was a place Miho normally didn't like. That lousy busboy, Souzetsu was here. She definitely didn't take kindly to him but memories of him eventually turned into memories of her former comrades, reminding her of a mission they were all on at one point. The day after she got accepted as Kuroi's fraccion. He was...--NO. No no no. She had to stop. If she kept polluting her thoughts of the three of them she was never going to be able to fully concentrate on her mission.

Miho did not have to be told. She was in no mood to deal with anyone of the powerful variety. She masked her reiatsu and kept an eye out for anyone undesirable who might come their way. Normally, when she was in a shitty mood, it was the best time to fight and she did. Fighting was her release. She loved to create destruction wherever she went. It was her aspect after all. There was something almost artistic to destruction and the way she caused it. It was nothing short of savage and yet in her mind, there was a certain beauty to it. She could cut down hapless creatures and do it for hours and hours on end. However, looking for a fight in Karakura was just about the dumbest thing you could do. So she'd maintain that reiatsu silence and be as cautious as she could be.

Taking a few steps forward just to get her feet moving for a bit, Miho settled on looking at the stars for a moment while Blondie over there did his scanning thing. Her head tilted upward in a curious fashion as if to say that there was something in the sky that was so compelling. "Would it be childish to wish upon stars...?" To ask whoever...or whatever was listening to see her ex-comrades on again. Though, this thought didn't last long. She was almost ashamed at herself for even thinking up a question like that. Wishing on stars. How stupid. She shook her head as if to get rid of such an idea and looked at Kuroi and Marcelius, anticipating some sort of response on the whereabouts of Desgarron.

"HEY, SCUM!" Oh hell. You don't even have to shout it twice. That voice like nails on a chalkboard that made her cringe every time he ranted and raved. Miho's head instantly snapped in the direction of said voice. Was she hearing things? The she-devil was destruction-thirsty and by all means the very definition of a caustic bitch but there was no way she was insane. Scarlet eyes simply moved to their corners to look at Kuroi. "THIS COFFEE IS FUCKING COLD! IT'S ONLY BEEN SITTING HERE FOR TWO MINUTES. WHY IS IT COLD?!" That ridiculous unreasonable demand was so fucking fitting for Nijuu that she absolutely knew she wasn't hearing things. Normally, she would've just cursed him in her mind but she was beyond shocked. Her eyes narrowed in apprehension as she approached the source of the noise. Seeing was believing after all.

Slow, careful steps brought the arrancar closer to the coffee shop. She'd stop when she saw the poor victim of a human being thrown out the window. "I don't fucking believe it." Still angry as ever, she could recognize him from a mile away. Miho's heart picked up in beats and her eyes widened as he stepped out of the broken glass window. It was him in the flesh. Kuroi had lied to her, but that thought would be set aside for the moment. She racked her mind as she thought of something to say to him. Oh wait, she had to catch up to him first. Duh.

Her pace quickened, nearly running to him. She remembered that she needed to stay on the down low here on Karakura so her reiatsu was still masked. Miho just hoped no one would waltz right up to her and she'd blow this whole thing for everyone else. When she finally caught up to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Not in her usual crass fashion, but in a manner which clearly displayed that she was uncertain and almost confused. "Nijuu...?" As the seconds passed she started to feel more and more certain and removed her hand and took a deep breath. "You're alive.." her voice was small but you could hear the relief in it. The girl was damn near speechless. She figured he'd be cussing up a storm at her. He'd be angry and livid with her. She left and now things have changed. He'd probably wanted to kill her and whatever he dished out, Miho was prepared to accept it. Guilt quickly overcame her and her heart felt heavier and heavier. The icicles were back in their rightful place; her stomach.

"What...What happened to the others? I...I can't believe you're here.." She then remembered Kuroi lied to her...for whatever reason. There's something he's obviously hiding from her. She should've questioned it before reacting the way she did. He wasn't working with Kuroi like she had but at the same time, maybe he was? Though, he was here in the human world ordering scalding coffee. It wasn't hard for Miho to put 2 and 2 together. Kuroi lied to her and quite obviously knew Nijuu was well and alive. They were all tools to him. Nijuu was useful to him just like Chisoku, Kouen, Marcelius and herself. He was never someone who parted with his tools so easily and he'd rather kill them before letting anyone get a hand on it. Nijuu was still his essentially if he was alive. There was no point in asking questions about the others. Miho knew she'd get lied to again about the others. That's fine. Things in the dark never stay hidden anyway.

"Hn. Oh wait...I was lied to. You're not gonna talk. I'll ask you a question you can answer...Where's Desgarron?"

[Marcelius]

(OoC: Sorry about my delay and absence! Also, I'm a bit out of practice...as a long weekend of Sapporo beer and big city excitement have dealt me QUITE the ass whuppin'. Mentally...at least. My wife technically gets dibs on the physically half of that ordeal! Anyyyywhooo, post-jutsu go!)

Nothing of Marcelius' character or appearance, would ever suggest a hasty nature. His elderly features and relaxed posture, gave away his slow and consistent pace...even before he took his first step. The furrow of his brow, which dipped so noticeably due to the slivers of his fractured mask still lingering over each eye. Finally there was that soft arua, with no aggravation or impatience polluting it's body. However, this time the old Hollow might break his tempered nature...or at least give such an impression. For he had been, the slightest bit hasty. Though his actions were mute, and without notification. What he had not chosen to mention to his fellow Arrancar was that, ever since they had first set foot within the Living world...his mind had been flourishing. Such abundance of life, each singing and carrying on with their amusing existences. This realm, more so than any other, always offered the grandest of distractions for him.

To his aloof conduct, very little immersion was necessary...to drag away his focus. Like a net, his attention was cast onto the vast suburbia. Once fallen, prey of insufficient spiritual presence would simply pass through. They would be lost in the clamour and haze. The more powerful spirits would grab his eye, caught by his line. Each of these individuals, he would provide adequate glance. A second, third...some may even be so important to earn a lingering inspection. Seeing as it only took a fraction of a moment for them to confess their names...imagine what he could learn from unguarded souls over the course of several minutes. If only a few miles separated Marcelius and Desgarrion, then he would already be determining the Arrancar's intended dinner plans. Mmm, or perhaps, he would only be learning that the young Arrancar was guarding his mind...possibly out of paranoia. Either scenario, it did not matter. The boy would be found, in this minute or the next.

So the trio advanced, Marc staying right along with his more agile counterparts. His long legs allowed for a gentle stride, that maintained an appropriate pace. Though they had no reason to be impressed by it, his mere ability to stick with them was a small wonder. As highly occupied as he was in other parts of the town; he did not stagger or trip in their brisk walk. The sacrifice for such a feat of divided concentration, was his inability to peek into their thoughts. The two of them traveling together, after such a long time, what freelings must be churning within them at this moment. Alas, after hearing Kuroi's remarks of caution and subtlety, Marc acknowledged by quickly setting out on his own assignment.

It tore at his insides, curiosity that is, on what the group was considering. There had been such a strong torrent of emotions earlier...and such storms do not simply end without even a breeze. As much as he desired to examine and listen to them...his dedication was not to be diverted. The had come to find a another of their kind, the Segunda wanted efficiency and Marcel would grant him that. So no matter Marc's extended reservoir of scrutiny, yet to be uncapped; he would not exhaust his mental wellness for the sake of his idle fancies. Instead, he would remain alert and attentive to the goals at hand. Though...as he would make a point to in for his Espada of the imminent Arrancar discovery; a most horrid crash would crush his words before breath could be summoned to speak.

Before each of them, a most intriguing display did carry on. A meager argument between mortals, a debate of preferences and policies. It felt strange to Marc, how similar this conversation was to arguments in Las Noches. The level of hostility, coupled with insubstantial reframe or constraint. This was classic Hollow dispute, being perpetrated by simple hu...wait. This man who stalked through the glass, was he human? In appearance and pressure, yes...but there was so much more to him. It was certainly enough to warrant investigation. It seemed his hesitation would not afford him chance at playing detective. Miho had already broken apart from her fellow Masks...and before either of them could respond, she had already called out to the man. This would be interesting...would he respond to her?

Of all the cities within this realm, Karakura was the most notorious for spiritual awareness. Average citizens within this community, were often blessed with the divine sight, usually reserved for monks or shamans. Without dedicating their entire life to the cultivation of clarity and perception...they could simply see and hear the souls that haunted their particular region of existence. This man could be one of them, it was not far fetched to belief so. Whether or not he heard her, this moment would not pass by easily. With her heart, she believed this to be Nijuu...and though Marc was not blind to the similarities, he knew the truth. Despite this Hunan's name, memories, or even his emotions...he could not be the man she knew. That being had passed on, having traded his identity for the purposes of Saigo no Houmen, long ago. What Miho might remember...was not what she would find.

If her emotions, which like a tempest swirl, were to become riled and distraught by this discovery...Marc would be of far less help than before. Though his role in Kuroi's lie might be well concealed, he himself did not maintain the capacity to deceive her further. If she were so inclined to ask, he would have to remain silent to preserve the misinformation. In his face, and especially his eyes, she would most certainly read the truth. So now, it would be up to the Segunda to explain. Marc had not yet earned the right to meddle in such personal affairs of theirs. Though the allure only seemed to grow, his prying thoughts would not seek answers from within either Kuroi or Miho's hearts. What he had earned, instead, was a responsibility elsewhere. The location, well-being, and even the thoughts of the elusive Desgarrion...this was Marcelius' duty. That was the only soul in which he would be prying. Once again, however, no one would be the wiser. His eyes and his ears would have just as much investment into the immediate conversation, as any other. It was his voice...and his voice alone, that would be missing from this reunion. To him, it felt fitting...as there was far more history here than he could possibly pretend to know. When his Espada was ready, he would inform him of all his successful findings.