Meeting of Two Fraccion (Joint Training/Aurora,Marcelius/R)

[Aurora Guerrero]

Aurora had just left her Espada's chambers, angry as usual. She just couldn't help but get insanely angry every time she met with her Espada. At least this time when she met with, she didn't get starved. It seemed as of late, she was getting starved more and more due to her performance in the field. But, the mission that her Espada had for her now was fairly interesting. It seemed that she now had to go after one of the Segunda's Fraccion, Marcelius Despres. She had heard of the man, but never actually met him. She was curious as to why she had to go after him.

She was to go find this Fraccion and bring him back up to the Espada levels, using force if necessary to bring him back. She would've asked more questions, but the Tercera waved her off and she knew that he was dismissing her to go on her mission. She started walking down from the Espada levels towards the basement or dungeon, depending on who you asked. While walking, she started to think on things. Why did her Espada give her that mission when it wasn't even really his issue to deal with another Espada's Fraccion? The only reason she could think of was because the Segunda asked him.

She had never met the Segunda before, but just knowing that he was stronger than her own Espada, she was pretty sure that the Tercera would listen to the man at least. Obviously, he had listened and sent her to do it. She assumed that the Segunda must be too busy doing whatever to deal with his own Fraccion. She growled while thinking about it. She didn't want to assume anything about him, knowing that he was so much stronger than her. But, it brought up questions about him that she would dwell on as she walked deeper into Los Noches. 

Once she got to the basement/dungeon, she started to look around. She had to admit that the place smelled pretty horrible and it was dank and disgusting. She started to breath through her mouth, growling at the same time. She didn't know why she had to come down to this place to find one person, but so be it. She felt her rage build up inside her, ready to be let loose on the Segunda's Fraccion. She knew that he would more than likely be stronger than her, but right now she didn't care. "Marcelius Despres! Get the fuck out here now! I don't want to be down here anymore, it smells!"

[Marcelius]

It had been...months now. Months of quiet days. All drowned in solitude. Time spent in a prison of self fabrication. A prison for the mind. A place where nothing could reach. No sensation or message from the outside. No contact. No feeling. Just, an emptiness. One that was built in the depths of a void...the void that all Hollows possess at the center of their breast. For Marcelius, Segunda Fraccion, this was the only place of remote solitude. The missing piece of himself; which for all Hollows, defined why he had become what he was. In his particular case? The emptiness stood for Remorse. The unending misery that follows all of our choices. Forever reminding us that we are capable of only mistakes and ruin.

Surely, at this moment in his life, Marc was sounded by both. Mistakes numbering in the dozens. Ruin...weaved through the lives of those whom he kept closest. To most, it would be cause for depression or grief. For Marcelius and that hole where his heart was supposed to be...it was cause for oblivion. Of all the Arrancar to ever settle down in Las Noches; none had ever made such deep connections as he. So when that was taken away...words fail. Since words had failed him; Marcelius eliminated them from his life. Crawling deep into Las Noches' underbelly. Into the slaughterhouse that made up the hundreds of labyrinth like floors in the base. There was more than physical isolation in these pits. There was distraction. Anyone who knew anything about this place would know of what distraction we speak. Down in the bowels; there were nothing but developing Hollows. Arrancar had no reason to be down there. They had strived and suffered so that they could escape this place. Escape, and never return.

Down here the laws of the King had no meaning. The rules and decencies of all rational beings melted away. It was a world of instincts. A world of fear and carnage; where survive came only through consumption. Consumption of fellow Hollows. Though they should see each other as brothers and similar prisoners; the beasts of this realm thought of everything as food. So desperate were they by their nature. So tortured were they by the powers the sensed above them...in this maze, the only hope was for more strength. It was not adequate enough to simply live. They all knew they needed to be stronger. To be fiercer. To eat and eat more.

This constant tempo of need and want...forming a symphony. Only those keen to the sounds of the soul could hear it, but those who did heard nothing else. Seeing as Marcelius was the most adept audience that any soul could ever ask for...he heard their music as though it were drummed onto the heavens. In this infinite noise and loudness; Marc could find a way to quiet the anguish that filled him. So here he intended to stay. Wallowing in the misery of untold thousands. Letting their own sadness and pain numb him. Letting their relief and jubilation for fresh feasts...remind him of the nature of his kind. Day one in this hell, and his swelled shut from the tears.

For most of his sentence; the Fraccion wished for an end to it all. Not his suffering, nor his life. Everything. It seemed his mind found new pleasure in the form of futility. In his imagination there were visions of those who controlled the world. The many who served them. The countless more who played no role into the outcome of things. Thinking of all these walks of life he only dreamed for their ends. Wishing that they all might slip into nothingness without hassle or agony. The same he wished for the existence that housed them. Thinking it cruel and repetitive. How it had toiled for many long years to see things as different than they were. From his time wandering the wastes, to his tenure here in the halls of Las Noches. All of it had been a desperate search for something better. Anything different. Just like those who hunted for fresh meat around him...he hunted for a fresh perspective.

A chance to live a life like those other races spread among the realms. To have something as small as a family. To have others that he could care for. To have them care for him back, if only in small and fleeting ways. This had been the compromise he finally agreed upon. This one, simple request was his only one. Could the universe in all its great bounties offer him just that? For a while...he thought it did. Coming to Las Noches had been an eye opening experience. It had showed him that such relationships were possible for his breed. Hollows. A species he thought for countless millennia knew nothing other than hunger. It had been a magnificent revaluation. Seeing Hollows, Broken Masks, living in a singular community. Dwelling within an agreement to not turn or massacre each other.

Though it was a strenuous contract; it seemed to hold itself in check. It was enough to prompt him to stay. Such fortune. For in time he would come to meet one of the leaders. The most dreaded and capable, Segunda. Kuroi Naito. A man not to be trifled with in any realm. A man of dedication and planning...who saw a future not unlike the reality that Marcelius searched for in the present. In time...two more lives would wander and weave themselves into his. A pair of girls. Each as different from the other, as they were similar to him. Each of them pieces of the family...that Marc hoped would remove the void in his heart. It is with the disappearance of all three of these beloved figures that the soul would drive himself underground. It is for them, and the possibilities they offered...that he surrendered any life he might have without them.

But fate...do not always agree with the wishes of its victims...

Stirring with a sudden jostle; the large bodied male threw away his arms...and kicked with his legs. It was as though he wrestled away consciousness itself. Or tried to. Sadly, his display was a weak one. Arms wilting and falling with no knees supporting them. Legs splaying and collapsing flat with no arms to catch them. Awareness would not be pushed away. The terrible world would not be fought off. The weakness of his body and mind, both equally to blame for that. How much time had passed now. The thought did creep into consideration. It did not matter. It was not enough to cease his misery. Why should it be measured? Looking around himself; Marc found he still lingered in the same filthy corner he had from before his last nightmare. This is how it had been for quite some time. Hiding in nooks, keeping still for long periods. Never really knowing how long he spent anywhere. This particular time was much worse than the last few. This time...the dream was about a restaurant.

A place of finery and delights. A hellhole that quickly erupted in grotesquity and violence. The scene where his entire family had been threatened at once. By poison. The insidious plot of a sadistic enemy. God, he remembered the details so vividly. The smell of the food, and the faint aroma of burning candles. Dim lighting. Clean carpet and table linens. The smug look on the Shinigami's face. It was the last time he saw any of his family. Alive...or otherwise. All of them...in one place. Suddenly, more clearly than any portrait or hallucination; Marcelius could see their faces. Missing each of them...for different reasons. "Pah!" At that moment, the aching in his chest grew dramatically worse. Like a grip had suddenly been placed upon it. Death's very hold. So awful the twinge, the only syllable he uttered was muttered through spittle. A not so wflattering sight. Luckily, none were around to see. Miho..Llusia?", but he did not realize that. "Kuroi?!" Throwing out an arm, it was like he hoped to catch something. Something he felt, but his old eyes could not see. Indeed...there was something lurking about in the distance. Something, not quite skulking through the dark. Someone, hunting. Not for flesh or power, but for something of far less value.

It was only as he began wiping his lip clean...that he even realized how weak he felt. How drained his life force had become. Before he had frequently complained of sore joints and aching muscles. There were times where he felt tired, and others where he had to force himself to stay awake. However, no such moments of frailty compared to this. Just keeping himself upright against the wall proved a challenge. Every moment, the floor felt closer and closer. Gravity seemed to be growing, and his body only followed nature's direction. What he failed to put together from this feeling, was that it was anything but coincidental. The force driving him down was not coming from below, but above. That someone he felt before...was approaching. It was the force of a truly strong soul; catching on his form and pressing against it.

Having been down here in the dark, where no light nor clarity are available, he had become desensitized to this sensation. There had been nothing around him but the occasional, fleeing Hollow. The only pressure he had felt for months now came from fledgling beasts. To actually have the presence of a Broken Mask so close that he could feel it...he did not know what to make of it. As it continued the approach; Marcelius felt his aches come into new light. Feeling all the destitution he allowed his body to slip into. It forced him to breathe deeply. Practically hyperventilating. Shaky arms curled around torso, squeezing with what little might they could muster. Yet again, a natural response to such overwhelming sensation. Though these pains felt new, and fresh to him...they were agonies he had felt many times before. Whenever a fellow Hollow lost in competition to another; this was the pain Marcelius felt. Experiencing it in thought, and feeling it in the body...are two drastically different experiences. This thought came to life inside of him, and stirred a deep concern for the other Arrancar. Just what was she doing here...

With the bellowing of her fiery voice; Marc felt compelled to answer in kind. "Child...have your eyes not yet adjusted to the dark?" Coming from her side, his voice was little more than a whisper. More like blowing out air than speaking. There was no strength behind it. All it was able to do...was reveal his exact location. A feat that would not have been possible, had she been any further away. Yet, she was right on top of him. Whatever it was she thought she was yelling at. That life force or motion beyond the next doorway; it was not him. It was far too powerful to be him. Perhaps some other Mask, prowling the corridors for a meal. No, the Fraccion she sought was crumbled up in the corner. Right by her side. And from that shadowy crevice, glinting in the void, were two eyes of darkest blue.

Even though they were the first things to catch the light, the rest of him would soon be as visible. Not sure of his company's intention, Marcelius did what he could to be presentable. What little that was. Forcing himself to move through his discomfort, and hoist himself upright. Sitting up with appropriate posture was all she was going to get. Though, for a moment he considered how he must appear. It had been a long time since he wore the uniform of a Segunda Fraccion. No finery such as a tailored suit had followed him down here. Instead, he wore the standard garb of every Numero in Las Noches. The white coat and hakama that were so abundantly common. Sadly, not much of that attire remained either. By now it was just the long coat. The rest, pants and accessories, were all gone. Lost in the squalor that had been his recent life. Along with much of his former weight. It was because of that tragic blessing, that his jacket hung off of him. Failing to cradle his starved form. Now it worked well as a robe for him, keeping him decent...barely.

Given the length and dirtiness of his hair and beard. The dusty, even bloodied, quality of his skin. The darkened circles that bordered his reddened eyes. Unlike the majority of Arrancar, who lacked the ability to age, Marcelius appeared quite ancient. Even more so than he had in months past. Once blonde hair was now turning fully grey. Once only wrinkled skin, now began to sag. Marc was no sight truly worthy to be a Fraccion. Let alone one of a foremost Espada, such as the Segunda. Yet...he was. For reasons far beyond his appearance. For abilities he possessed well beyond the measure of normal souls. Reasons his caller would learn soon enough. "Why...", his old and weary face showing perplexed, "Why are you here?" Just a bit of gruffness coming into earshot; the old man speaking with his age, "Why do you seek me?"

[Aurora Guerrero]

Aurora couldn't believe all of the darkness here. It went from bright in the hallways to pretty much completely darkness. She had good eyesight, but it would even take her a few seconds to a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dark. She tried her hardest to breath with her mouth only, but there were a few times that a nose breath came in and she had to fight back the urge to puke. She knew that after this visit down here, she needed to go find Zegram and take a few cold showers with him...

But! That was neither here nor there. She was now on a mission and that mission was to find this fraccion. She sensed lingering weak hollow that would definitely make a good meal, depending on how long she would stay down in this filth. With all of the stench, she couldn't use her nose to sniff out the man, but it honestly didn't take her that long to find him. Right after she yelled out her phrase, she actually started to use her energy sensory. She then heard the man actually speak.

He asked if her eyes adjusted to the dark yet. Though, when he called her a child, she growled pretty loudly and turned around, looking in the shadows a corner off to her right. She let her eyes glow gold and that's when she saw two insanely dark blue eyes look at her. She felt the man's power, but the way he spoke, it was like he had no strength left. But, to her that didn't make any sense. He was the Segunda's Fraccion. THE SEGUNDA! This guy should be stronger than her but he didn't sound it.

She cocked her head off to the right side, just staring at him in confusion. What she believed him to be and what she was actually seeing was two different things that just didn't make sense to her at all. She knew that this Fraccion hadn't been seen for awhile, but why would he stay in this dank pit? Why not go out and train to get stronger? Or eat some hollows? Or do both? Or go to a different place and kill a stupid cow that won't run away from you?! Those were great plans!

Sitting in crap? Definitely not something she would willingly do, if she had the choice. When the man started to get up, it looked like he was pained to do so. How long was he sitting in one place? Why didn't he go out, see the world and maybe find a mate to have nice 'fun times' with? It wasn't that hard for her. It couldn't be that hard for everybody else. The first thing she noticed as he walked forward was that he wasn't wearing pants. Or really anything 'down there.'

She put her hand up to block that area, but was thankful to see that he was actually wearing clothes. Well, a coat. That only kinda covered him up, but it was thankfully enough that she could move her hand back down. It would definitely get tiring having to do that the entire time she was with him. The body in the coat, however, looked horrible. It was obvious that he hadn't eaten and he had lost weight. She heard descriptions of him being massive, in body and muscle, to match his power.

It didn't match anymore. Then, when his face came into view, his skin was actually sagging. SAGGING! She had never, NEVER seen sagging skin on an Arrancar before, so this one was new for her. And there were now wrinkles. FUCKING WRINKLES! Yup, definitely a first. His hair, she could tell, used to be blonde, but was now turning grey, to match his skin tone. The dark circles under his red eyes. She just couldn't believe that this shell of an Arrancar was actually the fraccion to the Segunda.

But, she could feel his power and knew that it had to be him. There had to be something else about the man that the Segunda liked to take him under his wing like that. But, she couldn't see it. He then asked the important questions. Why was she here and why she was seeking him. "Well, Fraccion, I was told by my Espada, the Tercera, to come seek you out. I'm assuming your Espada asked him to find you, so he sent me. No idea beyond that, which I hope answers those questions, but I have questions of my own.

What in the hell happened to you?! I've heard stories about you, how strong you are, how your body was toned and muscled to equal the power you wield and now you're like a shell of your former self! Did you just sit down here for years doing nothing?! How stupid! Why don't you go out and see the world! Train! Eat! I know a great place where you can walk up to prey and kill it easy! I know because I did it! Stupid thing barely moved when I ripped its head off and it was just chilling in a human street. Why stay down here?"

[Marcelius]

Apparently, introductions were not so instinctual a thing. The once suave fellow had certainly dropped the ball this time. Lacking all courtesies and niceties. Yet, that he could be forgiven. Especially among his particular breed. Masks, broken or no, never really valued the merits of manners. This one especially. Just who was this young woman...the thought tumbled in his mind. Finding out used to be such a treat for him. Meeting others of his kin, getting to hear what made them who they were. God...it had been so long since he did anything like that. So long since he met anyone new. Heard anyone new. It had been so very long since the last time he basked in the fascinating beauty of another soul's song. Another, who wasn’t anything more than a bumbling child...or blood crazed animal. Though he could not yet hear her own song; the Fraccion had reason to believe she was not much different.

Certainly she seemed quite animalistic. If not only in appearance, but in attitude as well. Oh, but that was only his initial impression. With just a few more words from her vulgar vocabulary; Marcelius discovered that she was so much more. So much more bloodthirsty and vicious than many of the young one who lived around him. Perhaps...it was that harsh mentality that lead her to removing her mask? Whatever it was; it was nothing that Marc wanted to learn. All of it gladly omitted from memory...if he could do such a thing. Sadly, that was not his style. It was the old codger’s lot in life to not forget much. To hold on to all the bad things that had happened, and the good things that could have been. As he listened to her voice, grating at that it could be, memories flood forth. They tickled up from the shadowy places. The recesses of his mind that he had tried to bury beneath all the other guilt and woe. Sadly, memories do not work like bodies. Being buried long enough to does not erode or rot them. So with every syllable her hateful lips spat out, he heard bits of someone dear to him.

Someone he knew was no longer around. Someone he missed dearly. It should have been enough to break his heart, recalling this former loved one. And yet it did not. The hole at the center of his chest, the core of his being, did not feel stretched or torn. The emptiness had done so much growing lately, perhaps he was becoming numb to the pain. Certainly he was become numb to those who caused it. Outside influences like this...d*mn it, just who was she? The fact that he could still not place her name or face disturbed him deeply. It was a sensation, a phenomena that he was unaccustomed to. By now it should have been sung for him. Somehow, over her canting and yammering, something about her should have come through. It was when he focused on this...that he was drawn back to the words she shared. It was now that he slipped back into his body, and felt all the mistreatment he had given it hit at once. All thanks to her presence, and her extremely Hollow suggestions.

As if his current ailments were not severe enough, his new acquaintance felt it necessary to leave his head splitting. Being hard of hearing did very little to stifle the impact of her voice. It was the sort of thing one heard in their soul. A vibration that travelled deeper than the bone. Even without exceptional empathy; any could hear the aggression with which she spoke. With with she approached her life. Then she tried to offer him advice. Him. Ah, it was ironic as it was painful. The way she spoke, of what she spoke...it was dreadful stuff. Hollows eating Hollows. That was something he had grown quite familiar with down here, in these last few months. Arrancar eating Hollows. An act of pure indulgence, with absolutely no merit. Such a suggestion made him feel ill. Arrancar are freed from hunger upon breaking their Masks. they are supposed to have evolved, and found new purpose in their existence. They no longer gain any strength from the consumption. They should not feel any satisfaction in the act. Yet, here she was, talking no better than a beast.

With much of her face uncovered. Her mind spared from the darkness that exists behind a unbroken mask. Delighting in the death and taste of their kind. Willing to destroy and devour those who no longer pose a threat. What she had said to him, was like bragging about eating her own baby siblings. Marcelius should have been prepared for it. Honestly, darker things have happened in those alabaster halls. Just...hearing it spoken so carelessly. Spoken at all by someone not truly broken. Someone who had a chance to retain their sanity, unlike the Primera or Decima. It was more than enough to stir a shock in the old fellow. Causing him to stumble, and shuffle forward in a decrepit manner. Both of his arms finding new vigor that they had not had for quite some time. One of them rushing to swipe at her, issuing her to silence herself. The other went straight to his lips, hoping to ebb the tide she had called forth. A failing gesture. Quickly, with a violent wretch, the tall fellow was bent in two. With a most foul, and terrible sound he began a vomitous act. As starved as he was, nothing was produced by the awful motions. Where it seemed like he would spill his guts; what followed was nothing more than dry heaving. Unpleasant to see. Agonizing to feel. Between the two of them, this girl had it much easier.

Spitting onto the floor; Marc did what he could to get the taste of blood out of his mouth. Rude or not, it did not really matter to him. Having been alone for quite some time; he had fallen back into loner’s habits. By the time he had stopped, he was able to straighten himself out. Standing upright once more; though,grasping his sore abdomen. Looking back to her, with his eyes appearing a bit more tired than before, ”Please. If only for a moment, do not speak of food.” Wiping his lips, rubbing the drool from his beard; Marcelius gave a deep sigh. ”It may come as a bit of a surprise...but I came here to be alone. Away from all of that you just described.” The rasp in his voice never let her forget how weak he was. Not only did he sound old, but he sounded weary. In fact, after confronting her inquiries; Marcelius needed time to calm himself.

Taking a moment to breath, catch his breath...and deny something fundamental. A truth he would like to deny for the rest of his days. See, her talk of killing and feasting was not the real reason for his revulsion. Sure it was not pleasant, but it was something he had heard many times before. What really set him over the edge; was a small bit of empathy that linked them. For a moment, he could feel the way he used to. This Fraccion’s thoughts and feelings became one and the same with his own. This momentary connection was more than enough for him to feel her zeal for killing. Enough for the taste that once stained her senses, to cover his own. The taste was...marvelous. After months of self denial, a taste of anything would be sweet release. The elder simply was not willing to accept the eating of his own breed. Unfortunately, unable to remove what she had burned into his mind. Maybe...maybe he could distract himself. Luckily, she provided just the incentive he needed. ”Wait. What was that you said? The Tercera…” His eyes narrowed as he questioned, ”You are Zeruel’s Fraccion?”

There was a genuine earnest in his question. The name might not be familiar to her, but to the older Fraccion...Tercera meant someone completely different. Someone who, well…”I...do not know how to say this.” Stuttering a bit with his thoughts. ”You do not seem the kind of person he would accept. You seem more suitable for the Quinta, and Zeruel has always be picky about his company.” It was story time for the little one. Marcelius had gone far too long without real conversation, so she was in for a long one. ”Whatever he sees in you, must be spectacular to put up with your yelling. Fortunate for you. The Tercera is one of the few Espada who knows what it is like to serve a Hollow King...rather than that Shinigami we have playing steward right now.” Gathering his composure once more; Marc started brushing off his coat. It was only now that he took note of his missing britches.

Looking up the young lady, then around to the rest of the room about. They were nowhere to be seen. Though it caused him a very embarrassed sigh; there was little he could do about it now. Making sure he was at least covered by his robe of a coat, he continued to shuffle about and gather his bearing. ”Be sure to have him train you. They do not come much stronger, or oddly enough...wiser than Zeruel. Few as brave either. Not many Espada jumped up to stop Amogerra.” Having shuffled around enough to figure out where he was in the subterranean maze; the Fraccion glanced back to his counterpart. ”Wait. Why might Zeruel need with me? Why would he risk sending a Fraccion?” There was a sudden sadness in his voice. Both his dark eyes turning to deep pools of sapphire, as his thoughts trailed far away. ”Zeruel would just do it himself, before endangering another. What is going on here?”

[Aurora Guerrero]

While Aurora was talking, she was looking at this shell of a Fraccion. She honestly thought that he must have just sat down here for that long of a time. He did admit to her that he came down here to be alone and get away from Los Noches. But, when she wanted to do that, she went out into the deserts to hunt. But, now, if she wanted to get away, she actually had someone she could visit in the forest and go on adventures with him, which honestly, she was starting to look forward to. It was surprising that she actually started to feel that way, but she couldn't help it. The man was fun to be around and what they did together was amazing.

But, she saw him actually try to throw up. He just ended up dry heaving instead. Why would he dry heave? She had no idea what she said that grossed him out enough for him to start doing that, but once he was done with that, spitting on the ground, he asked her to not speak of food. So, she shut up about it. Why would food make someone dry heave? Unless it was that he was sick. But she had never known of an Arrancar getting sick. Maybe he had some kind of special disease that she didn't know about that was making him sick or something. Well, she definitely didn't want to get sick, so she backed up a few steps and pulled her vest up a bit to cover her mouth. "Hey, are you sick or something? Why are you dry heaving?"

She would keep her vest over her mouth until the man explained himself. Then, after that little 'display,' he then acknowledged that she had mentioned the Tercera and that he said she was Zeruel's Fraccion. She screwed her face up in a confused expression, with her head cocked to the right. What in the hell was he talking about? Who was this Zeruel person? Sargon was the Tercera Espada, not this other person that he talked about. Before she could reply, however, he continued talking. It seemed that he thought that she was not the kind of person this other Tercera would accept as a Fraccion, but she would work better for the Quinta. Well, she had never met the Quinta, so she would have to ask about that.

It seemed that Zeruel was picky with company and she must be spectacular for him to put up with her yelling. She was now glaring daggers at the man. How dare he think of something like that! She yelled a lot, but she didn't yell all the time. The nerve of this man! He then mentioned that Zeruel knows what it's like to serve under an actual Hollow King rather than the steward they had now that was a shinigami. The more he talked about this Zeruel character, the more interesting the man sounded and the more she actually wanted to meet the man. But, she knew that meeting him was impossible now. It was then that he looked around.

She didn't know if he was looking around for pants or something, but it seemed like he was looking for something in particular. He then tried to fixed the robe he was wearing and he definitely knew that he was trying to look for pants. At least he tried to look for pants, even if he couldn't find them. She kept her attention to his face, just to be on the safe side, in case the robe really didn't cover everything. He continued talking about Zeruel, saying that she definitely needed to make sure that he trained her, since not many come stronger or wiser than this mystery man. He then mentioned Amogerra and she barely knew about him either.

She knew basics, but no details about that Arrancar. He then started to ask what Zeruel would need with him and why he would risk sending a Fraccion. It seemed that this mystery man Zeruel would just do things himself before endangering another. She thought about that. It was definitely a change of pace compared to the new Tercera Sargon. He would more than likely send her out to her death than do something herself. But, of course, all of this was just what she thought, since Sargon didn't talk to her much. She wouldn't know that when she came into her quarters to sleep, the Tercera would drink some of her blood to see how her missions went, which is what he mentioned about being able to watch her without being there.

She knew that he did this for training and finally knew that she would get trained by the Tercera, since he was testing her to make sure that she was ready. But, she didn't know how far the Tercera cared about her or what he might do to her if something happened. She might never know. But, hearing that this other Tercera wouldn't endanger her like she assumed the Tercera would actually made her wonder how he would be. She made little mental notes to herself that she would definitely need to ask the Tercera about this when she ran into the man again, which would more than likely be after this little mission was over.

She took a deep breath and would try to explain what was happening. "First, I guess I should say my name, since I came out all yelling. I'm Aurora Guerrero, Tercera Fraccion. Second, I have no idea who this Zeruel character is. He is not the Tercera Espada, at least not anymore. I serve a man by the name of Sargon. He is the Tercera Espada now. I am assuming that he beat this Zeruel to get the Espada spot from him. I can honestly say I have no idea where this Zeruel man might be now. Though, when you said I would fit better with the Quinta, who is the Quinta exactly? I haven't met all of the Espada yet, so I'm curious how I would be better suited with him.

Next, though, I don't know much about this Amogerra person. I'm assuming the man is an Arrancar to be talked about here. I don't know much about the history here. Once Sargon found me worthy of being his Fraccion, he brought me to Los Noches and started sending me out on missions that he claims was for training so I could finally train under him. That training better start soon or I'm going to get pissed." She growled about that. She had waited long enough and the training better be good or else she would definitely cause a commotion with roaring and growling loud enough to shake up the entirety of Los Noches. She then looked towards the Fraccion again.

"But, I honestly can say I have no idea why Sargon sent me down here to get you. All he told me is that the Segunda Fraccion needed to be found and that he thought the first place to look would be here in Los Noches. I was advised to look top to bottom, so I started at the bottom first. It seems like it was just luck for me to run into you in the first place I looked. The Tercera usually doesn't really give me any details on why he wants me to do something, he just expects me to carry it out, without asking a lot of extra questions. He'll usually tell me after I do whatever he asks. Do you know why the Tercera Espada might want his Fraccion to seek out another Fraccion?" She really was confused. She didn't really know why she was here either.

[Marcelius]

Looking back to this vibrant, new Fraccion; Marcelius found that her eyes were her most noteworthy feature. The golden hues were both warming and imposing. In this moment, the imposition outweighed the glamour. It was made abundantly clear that he had said something to offend her. Or, in the very least, arouse her ire. The full force of her irritation could be felt as hot beams glaring from both ocular lenses. Marc should have been alarmed for his safety. Such a stare usually results in violence with their kind. Yet, he could not sense one ounce of fear in himself. There was only the slightest burst of joy. A joy that is hard to explain to those with youth. An appreciation that comes with great, great...great age.

Seeing such life in her eyes was a good thing. It did not matter if that life wanted to rip him from limb to limb. It was only important that she possessed it. A vigor that often died among their people after sufficient time. A light that is often lost in the endless expanse of darkness that was their only home. A light that had been stirred and stripped from Marcelius’ own soul so many times....too many times. Leaving a mostly ruined husk in the wake. One that had more shadows than not. Painful memories, each sufficient enough to quelch whatever life he might find inside. Such was, in many ways, the reason for his current state. The reason why he was hidden away in this dungeon. Away from other sparks.

Nestled in shadows. It was even the reason for her own presence here, now. She called it fortune that she found him. True fortune would have spared him his own light, and kept him amongst the rest of his brothers and sisters above. It was not fortune that united them now. It was very much the opposite. this fact made abundantly clear in the stare that he returned to her. Her eyes cut like daggers did they? Well his were still waters. Motionless, cold, and accepting of whatever hurtful disturbance could be tossed into them. Oh, with saggy pillows of darkened skin beneath each. This fellow seem quite deprived of meaningful rest. Something his new friend was not helping with...with all her bad news, and what not.

Marc’s whole body went cold in the passing of her words. As she did her best to make a more flattering introduction, she ruined the moment with an explanation to revealing. She spoke of the Tercera. She spoke of him as a memory. One without a face or significance. She revealed that she did indeed serve the Tercera Espada. The rightful number three within the lordship of Las Noches. However, this man she submitted to was a stranger. Someone new who had claimed the spot through the same rite of conquest that most every Espada had used before. Zeruel...was gone. No longer in Las Noches. Possibly no longer in Hueco Mundo...or...anywhere. ”I...I understand.” Muttered the elder Fraccion. Doing so as he stumbled one step to the left. A step away from her and towards the wall. Quickly one of his frail arms reached out to place against the wall. Supporting himself, as the other hand came to rest on his face. Broad, yet wrinkled fingers now covering his eyes. Silence claiming him as he rubbed his closed lids gently.

Trying his best to keep his head turned down. Away from her. Oh, the thoughts that coursed through his mind. The speculations and visions which tried to help him cope. His friend was gone. One of the kindest Espada to ever claim the title, was gone. Marc began to recall all the things he had heard the former Tercera speak of. Zeruel’s views on their lives here. On the reality that Hollows were forced to inhabit. The Tercera had been rare in his opinions. A soul who favored the idea of pacifism within their species. He and Marc had spoken of their hopes of a world where Hollows no longer need to kill themselves. The need to eat and hunt diminished until it was no more. They each hoped Las Noches could become a place where Hollow souls recover...rather than increase, or prolong their suffering.

These thoughts and memories brought back all the desperate passion they once invoked. The thought of his demise...did just as much to transform that passion into a void. One that tore at Marcelius’ core. The hole in his chest which only seemed to grow more and more these years. For Aurora, the sight was quite an evident one. The old man was wearily braced to the wall. Speaking nothing to her, lost deep in thought. The instincts she was blessed with as a hunter told a bit more. She would sense his compromised condition. The hesitations in his breath. Though there were no sobs, it was clear that his body suffered through something similar. A trial that was far more troubling for someone so starved and deteriorated.

It would take a few moments of disrupted breathing before the elder’s fingers clenched on the wall. The young woman had continued to talk...at least leading up to his strange display. Perhaps the sight of something as unheard of as a mournful Arrancar would interrupt her thoughts? Maybe not. It would not really matter. For the moment would pass, and being ever the keen listener that he was, Marcelius would indulge the youthful curiosity she brought with her. Only able to do so...because of that spark mentioned before. The one that caused her eyes to glow so brightly. ”The Quinta...yes.” The Fraccion said, giving a sniff to clear his nostrils. ”Ha...yes. Rio. You seem a perfect match for his...particularities.”

Had their been any lingering sadness in his tone, it was now abolished. Whatever emotions had torn through him just before, were now gone. Perhaps buried under a mountain of self control. One formed over the course of countless lifetimes. A willpower that allowed him to put away the feelings when they interfered. Something that allowed him to choose his focus. Right now, that focus being Aurora’s questions. A most optimistic distraction to keep his eyes turned up from the pit...and towards the light at the surface above. ”Rio, despite his placement as Quinta. Is terribly powerful. Stronger than any other Espada, without question.” Giving another wipe of his face and nose, the senior found his coat sleeve to be quite disheveled. Quickly he pulled his face back, and then tried to force a small smirk. His eyes still glistening with the faintest trace of tears.

”Having the strength to level entire structures with a single blow. Even though he was allowed, by law, to unleash his Resurreccion within the walls of Las Noches...I suspect the King would have instructed him not to. Rio...Rio is a walking devastation.” With several pats along his arm and chest, Marc tried to get what filth he could off his garb. Nodding a few times to himself, ”You seem very strong. Definitely brave.” Pausing to look her over once more, ”I think you would have been one of the few Rio would accept as Fraccion. You have just enough potential, for him to not see you as trash.” And then with a little scoff, ”Like the rest of us are.” The little snickers continued a bit more. The statement giving him quite a tickle, considering his current appearance. And...the current vulnerability of his emotions.

Having explained himself, his former suspicions, the subject had only one way to turn. There was the matter of her real master. The current Tercera who sent her down here. ”Sargon…” Clawing through his memories as best he could, the Fraccion tried his best to recall such a name. Sadly there was nothing. ”So is that the new Tercera?” To have no knowledge of the name, meant that this new Espada was truly new. A sudden appearance within Las Noches. One of those wanderers from the desert. One of the really strong ones, apparently. ”I would imagine your master is quite powerful. It is no small thing to attain the position that he has.” More thoughts of Zeruel resurfaced. ”Did you witness him claim the title?” The old fellow's head turned back to her, eyes quite heavy. ’Did you see him fight the previous tenant?” Marc would stare towards her while the question lingered.

In all honesty...he was not listening for her voice. If she had the answer he desired, he would know. In the most brief of glances he could determine all he wanted to know. And he did just that. ”It does not really matter. It would not change things if you had.” She had not. There was no recollection of a fight or contest. Whatever had happened, happened without her knowledge of it. The way he took his gaze off of her was enough to tell her he believed this. Though his stern expression did not mean to insult, it was very dismissal. Those smiles from before quickly faded into his pale face. Marc could not draw his mind off this newcomer. One who just waltzed in, and claimed such power for himself. There was a sudden pain in his stomach. Once more, Marcelius felt quite sickened. ”You are right to wonder though…” He spoke up, rather than start another fit of heaving. ”What would someone like your master...want with a no one like me.” Swallowing back the sick feeling, the old man continued, ”The answer that best fits with the ways of this place...is actually very simple.”

Having stared so long into space, he once again direct his gaze to his counterpart. The blue of his eyes descending into something more akin to black. ”He wants me killed...” A horrible reality, indeed. Marc’s words were short and lacking the heart that someone facing an executioner might ought to. ”In this place. Espada are lords. Fraccion are servants. Loyal ones, sometimes.” Reaching now with his right hand, Marcelius gripped the fabric that formed the cuff of his left sleeve. Tugging weakly at it, he hoisted the white material up to reveal the back of his hand. There, in bold, black ink were the symbols “II”. The roman numerals for two. A mark to indicate both a service and loyalty. In this case, to the Segunda Espada. ”I do not know how you feel about your master. What you think of him…”, he lowered his sleeve again. ”But I am loyal to mine. I serve with him and his other Fraccion. Placing them before the our mutual king, as well.”

Turning to her for the first time, he approached very carefully. Slowly too...considering his feebleness. ”It is possible that your master seeks to raise his station even further.” Tilting his head, almost identically to how she had before…”It might be in his interest to take the Segunda’s spot? If so, he will have to deal with both the Espada and…” Raising both hands to gesture to himself, ”His Fraccion.” Dropping his hands again, Marcelius began to turn from her. His eyes slipping shut as an old purpose found itself renewed in him. See, it had been quite some time since he last behaved as a Fraccion. Down here...he did little more than stay out of the way. That was his only responsibility. Now, though, there was the possibility of something truly awful coming to fruition. An actual challenger to the deadliest man in Las Noches. Such a notion drew back even more memories from the nostalgia riddled soul.

It had been a very long time since anyone trifled with Kuroi. Even longer since another Arrancar was the culprit...much longer still since another Espada. Times really must have changed if any of the others could think themselves capable of such. Especially since Adalo had such a hard time with it…”Ah, but I think you would have been told if you were supposed to do the killing yourself.” Marc’s dirty feet ceased their shuffling. Stopped, looking back to her again. ”You would have taken your chance by now, after seeing me like this.” Turning back to her in full, ”You probably would have appeared more sure of yourself. Or...at least, more sure of what you had to do.” With a deep breath of relief, the elder nodded once more. ”We’ll need to ask you master himself, will we not?” Looking upwards, as if to peer through the hundreds of floors of Las Noches that divided them and the Espada’s domains. ”I would like to meet him anyways...so, two birds…”

Looking back towards the hallways she used to reach him, the old man groaned a bit under his breaths. ”And I’m not sick…” Not actually looking at her as he spoke. ”Not with anything you can catch.” Lifting an arm to point back the way she came, ”I can show you a better way. I could you lead through the mazes down here. Get us both back quicker.” Dropping his arm with a bit of a thud, he exaggerated just how heavy the limb felt to him. ”I do not believe I will make the walk on my own.” A slightly dejected expression came upon him. The thought occurred for him, of just how miserable his body had become. ”You will have to help me with the walk.” Eyes locking with her own. ”The good news being, I’m not as heavy as I used to be. Not to mention...this will give you the perfect opportunity to slide the knife in my back.” There was a smirk. He could have been kidding. The difficulty was reading his tone. Determining just how he meant to say those words.

”Either way, we should get going. You do not want to stay in this place any longer than you have to.”, he started to shuffle, ”Believe me…” From here on out, regardless of her help, their progress was going to be slow. Fraccion or not, Marc just could not move too quickly right now. It was going to take time for him to recover from...whatever he had done to himself. In that time, with her hoisting him up or not, he would have at least one question to throw out. A question that burned in his mind as it would for any fatherly gent. One concerning something he had felt when she spoke to him before. Something he had to know about, whether or not she wanted to kill him. The question was a harmless one, to be fair. Certainly, it would catch her off guard. Especially since she had no previous experience with dealing with the rather notorious, grandpa Fraccion. ”So. Who is the special someone you would rather be off in the forest with…”

[Aurora Guerrero]

Aurora waited to this what this other Fraccion would say. She had not seen any other of her rank to look as horrible as he did now. Why would he let himself go so much? He was a representative of his Espada. Where he went, his Espada would be judged as well, based on how well he fought and how he carried himself. He let himself go so much, she would assume people would scoff at him, definitely thinking his Espada was just plain lazy to let him go so far out of shape and get so thin and frail. Arrancars were not supposed to be the way that he was now.

She continued to stare at him and when he stared back, his eyes almost threw her off. His eyes were still, more calm and serene than she had seen in almost any other Arrancar. Most of the Arrancar she had met, she could see the evil of them, the will to fight and consume everything in their path for power. Even Zegram had that type of evil in him, though his was much different than others. Because of this, she saw more calm in him than others. Except for the one standing in front of her. All of the calm that was radiating off of him was kind of creeping her out a bit.

He spoke after she was done, almost falling into the wall, but able to brace himself. It seemed that he didn't know what had happened while he was down here. She was curious if he was close to the Arrancar that he had mentioned and how well he got along with the previous Tercera. It also made her wonder how the previous Tercera was compared to Sargon. She might just have to ask him about it later. She sniffed the air and knew that there was something off about him. It seemed that her words had effected him. There was hesitation in him now, almost as if he was in despair over the news.

She had never seen another Arrancar act this way. It was a little baffling for her, to say the least. When he said that she would make a good match to Rio, the Quinta because of his particularities, she immediately wanted to know more. Thankfully, before she even asked, he continued to explain. It seemed that this Quinta is terribly powerful, him being the strongest Espada even though he was middle ranked. It made Aurora raised her eyebrow. She was definitely curious to meet this man face to face now.

When he mentioned that Rio was a walking devastation, Aurora smiled ferally. Aurora loved to cause chaos as well and a walking devastation sounded like fun. She had never seen her Espada release before, so she had no idea what kind of chaos his power could wrought, but she hoped it was to that kind of level. Then, when he thought that she would've been one of the few that he would've selected for Fraccion, it made her feel better. She didn't know that he was so picky, but it was always nice to hear that someone picky would choose you.

It seemed that she would have enough potential for Rio to consider her not trash, like he thought of everyone else. She would do her best to remember that tidbit, if she ever met the Espada. He was trying to clean himself, but he was so dirty, no amount of cleaning down here would help him. She sneered as he did it, thinking it funny that he was even trying in the first place. She honestly didn't care that much to outward appearances. She was more focused on strength and power than anything else in someone.

He started to talk. She thought he was asking her a question, so after he said the new Tercera, she nodded. He was the new Tercera, but it became more obvious that he had no idea who he was. She was sure Sargon would make his presence known to him soon or he would hear the stories of the Tercera, which she was sure was going around. She never stayed around here that much to listen to them, much more interested in eating and fighting. He said Sargon must be powerful, which he was. Their little spars definitely showed her that much.

He asked if she had seen the fight and she shook her head no. Though, it looked like it didn't even matter to him, since he just answered his own question and stared off into space, almost like dismissing her. Her eyes started to faintly glow, since she didn't like the thought of getting dismissed by someone like him. Someone that she could probably win against just by pushing him too hard and falling to the ground. Though, he said that she was right to wonder why he would want him. She stopped her seething to pay attention to what he was going to say next.

When he said to kill him, she almost laughed out loud. Seriously? This Arrancar could be beaten easily by someone else who's time it wouldn't waste, unlike her. This was honestly a waste of her time if she was just sent to kill him down here. He explained the hierarchy, which she didn't really listen to. Everyone already knows that here. She didn't know why he bothered saying it again. He then asked if her Espada would want to become Segunda. She had no idea about that, but he continued, saying if he did, he would have to fight both the Segunda and his Fraccion.

It was then that she saw the roman numerial II on the back of his left hand and he was gesturing to himself when he said Fraccion. Her eyes widened with surprise. What the hell! No way! There was NO WAY that the man in front of her was actually the Segunda's Fraccion. Just....she couldn't believe it. He said he didn't know how she felt about her master but he was loyal to his, putting him before everyone else. She was still awestruck by his revelation. How could the Segunda, second ranked Espada, let a Fraccion just stay in the pits down here and get this way.

She couldn't understand why. She honestly couldn't. While she was still trying to process, she barely heard him say that it was obvious she wasn't the one that was to do the killing, since she would've done it by now, which was true. When he said that he would have to ask her master themselves, she snapped back to the conversation. It was true that her first instinct was to take him back to the Tercera once she found him. She nodded to him in agreement, since she was really only sent to find him and bring him to the Tercera. She also figured he would want to meet the man that defeated the old Tercera, which he said right after she thought it.

He then said he wasn't sick, but she didn't care about that. When he mentioned a quicker way to get back, she was all for that. It had taken her much too long to get down here in the first place. She didn't want to take a long way back if there was a shorter way. When he said she would have to help her, she growled at him. She didn't normally 'help' anyone like that. Though, his comments were interesting ideas. He couldn't really overpower her and if she did help him, she could easily end him if he caused too much trouble.

So, she nodded in agreement to help, glaring at him while she walked over to his position. She missed the last words he said as she grabbed his left arm and hung it around her shoulders. They started off and he shuffled along as best he could. She growled at fairly regular intervals, hating that she had to keep such slow a pace. It was infuriating her to the point of just wanting to kill him now and be done with him. But, he was with the Segunda. She didn't want to upset the Espada ranked right above her own. It wouldn't be good.

With that in mind, she kept to her growling and endured helping this weakling up to where they needed to go. When he spoke again, she was more surprised than she was when finding out he was the Segunda Fraccion. He asked her who the special someone was that she would rather be off in the forest with. She immediately stopped in her tracks and glared at him, staring him straight in the eye. She never said that out loud. "How in the hell do you know that when I didn't say it and why should I answer you?! I just met you today! It seems that for a weakling you're a little too nosy for your own good!"