A Grand Meeting of Pure Chance

[Sargon Denumic]

Moving throughout the halls of Las Noches was becoming more and more boring. Over the last few hours Sargon had simply been walking in hopes of running into one of his Fraccion or another of the Espada. When he had awoken early in the morning he had found that both Zegram and Aurora weren't in their room. While it wasn't anything serious Sargon was going to find out what the both of them were doing when they came back later whether they knew it or not he always got his information.

Once again though the problem was the same as it always was for Sargon. Life was nothing more than an endless series of boredom that only ever got somewhat exciting for a short moment only to than return to boredom. It had been this way since he could remember yet lately there was something else present. He had started training Aurora and Zegram more closely and after that he was having strange dreams. His head would often hurt and with the pain came images of a large city below him.

In truth he didn't know what the images meant and didn't want anyone knowing about it for the moment. Whatever it was he would figure it out. The only good side to it all was that they gave him some kind of interest which kept the boredom at bay. As he walked to found a stair case that descended downwards. Simply having nothing else to do the Tercera descended down them in order to find the new location. After roughly thirty minutes he reached one of the basements to Las Noches and within it could barely make out the reiatsu of another Arrancar.

[Tsajara Dread]

It had been a while since she'd visited Las Noches, or Rotta and his ilk. The path into that crevice leading from the forest into the deepest recesses of Las noches was there as always, and Tsaj decided that it was as good a time as any to visit. The ins and outs of her own life had been as interesting as ever. She'd continued to notice the strange sensation that had been around Hueco Mundo. Given she had still yet to regain her spiritual sense it had been quite a surprise. What was even more amazing was the fact that she sensed it so very damn far away. She paid no mind to it....for the time being. Simply...keeping a metaphorical eye on it.

Amid all of the crates of preserved items, in that dark place she had come to consider almost a second home, she hardly noticed the approaching espada. With her damaged energy sensing, she didn't sense a thing, and simply continued to lean back against one of the containers, staring at a bit of crystal she had taken from one of the many trees that grew in Hueco Mundo. She was quite fond of them, and as memory served, there were some areas where large groves of the things grew. This was hardly from one of those, but it freshened the memory of the places and brought a smile to that soft face of hers.

Although she couldn't sense him, she DID hear him. Amidst those silent containers, there really wasn't much to get in the way of her hearing, and so turning, she took a peek over the closest container, her own visage lost amidst the brilliantly-white containers (Surely whomever built this place seemed to love that color) and with the absolute lack of any pigments in her body, even lacking the red of albinos, she simply watched, camouflaged against the containers as she lowered her spiritual pressure, not enough to be completely undetectable so as to arouse suspicion, but just low to make her location a bit hazy, as if she were asleep, intent to see who it was that had made their way into the place. She should be able to blend in, but well, if he DID manage to see her, he would be treated to quite the odd sight. Even at a distance there would be something....far-off about her. An aura about her that was so very very old, as though she were some long-dead tree.

She wasn't sure if she should be afraid. Naturally the chances of an espada being down here was rather remote, but even if they were...well... she supposed maybe she probably should have been afraid. Had she nod grown out of such things ages ago. Almost. For now she reserved judgement, and simply watched, waiting for whomever it was to come out where she could see them. She supposed....really, even if it was the King of Las Noches itself she would hardly recognize them, but regardless she still had a sense of curiosity. There was so very much that an individual showed when they were not aware of being watched. Those first moments before the mask of sociability dropped. She supposed it was her age, but she did so very much enjoy the reactions she got when others first saw her.

A smile slipped it's way across her features at the very thought, a fondness shining through that otherwise lifeless face of hers as she thought back to that strange lizard male from before. The one that had woken up the bird of prey inside of her. Her eyes grew fierce for but an instant as she remembered that fight, the reason she had gotten over her....stasis. She wasn't alright with just living now. She wanted to remember what it was like to be strong.

But....for now she swept that aside, eyes dimming back to that almost-dead stare, that soft smile that seemed more neutral than even a stoic face. She could revel in all of that some other time. For now she had an arrancar to peek on. Who knew? Maybe she'd spot one of those handsome young males. She almost giggled to herself at the very thought. She detested the Gillian that had gotten her so long ago, but....well.....at the very least it had given her a young shell to take over. One could always hope.

[Sargon Denumic]

Making the final step down into the basement from the stairs Sargon looks around the long dark room. From what he could see this room was nothing more than an area in which storage was taking place. What was actually being stored in this room though was the question. Sargon had the habit of being a collector. Not one that most others would consider or even deem acceptable. However, it was something that for as long as he could remember he had found enjoyment in yet over time his collects to grew boring and he would dispose of them as well.

He began to walk deeper into the room and saw that whatever was being stored was inside of white crates. One of the very potent things that Sargon always hated about Las Noches was the fact that everything had to be white. Even his clothing as an Espada was white something that he loathed. However, not all of his attire was white luckily his intense reiatsu was potent enough that his pants and jacket ends had been burnt and partially disintegrated turning the ends black.

As he continued inwards it began to get darker and Sargon was starting to have difficulty seeing in the room. He couldn't sense the reiatsu of whatever Arrancar was hiding in this room anymore which meant that it was hiding from him and more than likely didn't wish to be found by anyone. For one reason or another this gave him a small bit of enthusiasm to just take away that which someone else wanted for his own amusement for however short it might be lived.

Sargon in all truth whether he knew it or not was only a few feet from the female Arrancar and she would now be able to see his outline yet not anything defining about him. She wouldn't really feel anything from him even as she gazed at him he didn't emit any kind of presence. She would more than likely assume based on this that he was simply a wondering guard of Las Noches or a Fraccion of one of the Espada looking for something that their master had ordered them to obtain. In the next moment though Sargon raised his left hand and a cero the size of a basketball was generated in his palm illuminating the room as a giant source of light.

In the next moment Sargon's gaze turned towards the female seeing her head and starring her in the eyes. He could feel the presence of her and knew that she wasn't an ordinary Arrancar. He could feel her age and experience along with the library of memory that was held within her eyes. As her eyes met his though suddenly the barren presence would be replaced by one of overwhelming heat and age. It would be as if the female was standing inside of a burning building with all of the air around her being swallowed up. "Well now who might you be?"

[Tsajara Dread]

That smile widened a bit when she noticed that presence getting closer. Ah he sounded young. The smooth soundless breathing, the sound he made as he walked, stance unwavering, this was hardly any bumbling fool. She opened her eyes in time to see his silhouette. Hardly very indicative but she did wonder in any case, idly leaning back against the many many containers of....well... that was an interesting story. The contents USED to be some sort of juice. Wether it was some favorite of the King's or simply something they had a lot of was unclear, but for how long it had been down in the place it had fermented a while ago. At least the ones in the back had. Whatever preservative systems had been put in, the crack that Dread had used to get in had likely effected it. As such the containers closest to it were the most ripe, with a gradient of age going from one side of the room to the other.

When that flare of reiatsu showed, her eyes dilated, narrowing for just a moment and making her eyes seem all the whiter. She was pleasantly surprised to see he was indeed a rather young man, and for a moment she forgot that she was, essentially, a young woman, and simply gave him a very old and pleasant smile, barren of any subtle lures or sultry that a younger woman may have. No all of THAT was hidden behind that decrepit curvature of white lips. Even as his pressure made itself known and that....unusual sensation swept over Tsaj, she was...not particularly perturbed, eyes opening up just a bit more as a soft little chuckle escaped her.

"Oh my, you're a lively one." She noted with a chuckle, rising to her feet and putting her hands on her hips, showing her own less-burnt attire. Well, what she used as one. She had certainly not wasted any time flaunting her new form, as what any semblance of 'top' she had was but a binding around her chest, a simple sarashi wrap. And as for her lower body, well...ages ago they'd been shorts. But after some wear and tear they had managed to become a tattered skirt. What was likely most unusual would be that Sargon would have no inkling of an idea where her mask was. those tiny little wings tucked behind her ears and hidden by her hair would be out of sight, so Tsaj would smile softly and offer a nod of her head toward the suffocating presence of  Sargon.

Eyes flitted up and down for a moment, scrying him as she lightly leaned to the side, that soft smile widening a bit. " I fancy myself a meager sandrat, seeking refuge rid of menos or paltry hollow, and so one having found it. Even more, Such a place that so invites, hardly deserves bother, and so no bother have I given." She noted, even her voice reeked with age. It was smooth as marble, and yet something about it rang with an echo, as if so very far off. Even so, those eyes would drift to the cero in his hand, lacking any blatant fear, but rather respect. Respect for what it could do, rather than an obsessive worry and anxiety of what it might do before again those eyes turned, but this time to lock with Sargon's own eyes.

"But ahh... I babble. In face of your question no less." she chuckled with a slow, apologetic bow of her head before eyes rose again, almost....bemusedly regarding him. Such a pretty bird he was, any yet no doubt unappreciated. Such youth that milled the sands, with no appreciation for beauty or the like, so instead drenched in wants for power instead, devoid of the more simple enjoyments. "Tsaj is my name. Tsaj Dread, though methinks, or rather hopes, not very aptly named." She noted lightly, even as air seemed scarce. Her breathing, as ever before, was slow and shallow, enough to suck air for words but hardly much more, her body's memory almost as long as her own, and she had a stillness about her that conserved oxygen quite well, adding ever more to statue-like look. Even so, every now and then she took a moment to take a bit of a deeper breath, hardly immune to the odd effect.

[Sargon Denumic]

Sargon made direct eye contact with the Arrancar that he now could see thanks to the light that emanated from the grey cero in his left hand. Unlike the majority of Arrancar or even Hollows in general Sargon's reiatsu was an ash grey color and it was potent enough to change even the color nature of cero and bala. The light wasn't the same degree as it would have been if it were red yet it gave light off that resembled how one would think of the moon casting light during the night. In that first moment of brief exchange though Sargon spotted the natural occurrence of this females eyes dilating.

In the next moment after he spoke though the female began to chuckle and Sargon for a moment was rather displeased at the mild disrespect shown to him. As she stood though Sargon remarked her clothing taking notice of the fact that it seemed as if she was a wondering Arrancar that held no allegiance to Las Noches. While he was one of the higher authority figures in Las Noches Sargon didn't care that she was no an ally to them. He hadn't been when he had arrived either and yet that hadn't stopped him from claiming his position.

Sargon got a clear look at the female though and while he could tell by her presence and the manner in which she spoke she was far older than Aurora or Zegram as well as the majority of even the other Espada for one reason or another to which he didn't understand he felt as if she was still below him. It wasn't caused by the gap in their power though. Based on the manner in which she was breathing Sargon could tell that just being around him was causing her problems like it did to so many others. In truth all others were below Sargon so why he felt a different sensation of superior was foreign to him.

At the same time though an image popped into Sargon's head one of a girl that looked similar to the Arrancar in front of him. She had long white hair as white as snow yet dark eyes and a menacing smile that bore the intention of pride and murder. It was someone that he held no knowledge of yet felt as if she was the most important person to ever grace him. That sensation alone was one that Sargon hadn't ever felt yet the image vanished just as swiftly as it arrived and Sargon realized that the female didn't have a mask on her face. If she did it was hidden like his own, but it could just as likely been ripped off by someone else.

Sargon continued to stand illuminating the room so the two of them could converse together. The female continued to move slightly and smile in various ways that Sargon deemed unnecessary yet partially acceptable for no harm nor disrespect was given towards him from them. Her constant lack of answer though was a slight disrespect and something Sargon never enjoyed. Long conversations took up time that could be used for more essential things and avoiding questions given by those above was an action not wise for anyone.

Disrespectful as it may be only slight was overlooked however when the bow was given and Sargon accepted that while she was old she still wasn't above acknowledging others in such a manner. "So she only is in here to get away from the hollows. . . lies." Lying to Sargon wasn't something wise and something that neither of his Fraccion at the moment would dare try and for good reason knowing him. However, this Arrancar didn't know him in the least and while she introduced herself Sargon starred at her sternly as if overlooking a failed apprentice. "There is no reason to lie Dread. You're not here to hide from others. You're much to powerful to fear Menos. What is your purpose for being here at the moment?"

[Tsajara Dread]

Those lilting expressions of intrigue and dissapointment were hardly missed by Tsaj, the inkling feeling that perhaps he was a bit more important than she presumed crossed her mind. But well....so? She supposed he was probably powerful, maybe even important. But she had been around so very long a time. What was a little more? It was almost amusing how impatient he seemed, but at the very least none of that showed or exuded from her. She was blank, and no matter how hard he looked there just wasn't....anything. no subtle twitches, no soft shifts of expression, it was as if her body had lost all of that, as if it were made of glass or stone. It moved only as she made the effort to make it so, and even then it did so very little. A blessing and a curse, given how...eerie it likely was.

At the mention of her lying she paused, head tilting a bit as brows lifted. She resisted the urge to laugh when he posed his own.....theory. Which was amusing in more ways than she cared to count. But she paused, letting him finish his speech for a moment before she made her own response, watching his expressions shift like seasons, however subtle. Strange.... despite his young looks he certainly didn't carry himself like some young one. She had met a few that acted ALMOST like him. Little things in a rush to make others bow. At the very least this one had some.....agedness to it. Though he seemed just as eager.

"A while ago maybe. for a time the ones that lived here were the ones I was hiding from. But well, this would be poor a place to so avoid them. Eventually that passed, and I learned what so many arrancar learn far too late: Hollows can be more dangerous." She noted softly. Which she did not care to go into detail in. She could delve into it, the fact that hollows were often so much more....desperate. So very unrelenting. Beings that are desperate to escape their lack of power and freedom, willing to throw themselves into certain death just for a chance to end it all. she had seen arrancar cut down powerful shinigami, only to fall victim to an endless stream of hollows that sapped their strength day by day, and then it only took one mistake, one bit of fatigue, one last straw before they were torn apart.

"Though...I can't help but feel that exception does not hold true with you." She noted, hardly imagining him to be less dangerous than a horde of hollows. He seemed just as intent on proving himself. Just as desperate for something he couldn't imagine. Something he couldn't know, didn't know, and simply refered to as 'more'. It was a fate so many of his strength possessed. OF course, without her energy sense she had no idea just how strong he was. It was that inability to fully feel his pressure that likely saved her from the brunt of his spiritual pressure's mental effects.

No.... I have a feeling you're dangerous indeed." She murmured, perhaps more to herself than to him as she watched him. It hadn't been as obvious before but seeing the burns on his attire, that suspicion that there was quite a lot she was missing only becoming clearer and clearer. In any case she fell silent and waited for his own responses. Her demeanor having been slowly shifting to one of a bit more respect throughout the conversation. Sad it was that he seemed in such a rush. Strange as it was, she felt almost as if she were looking at someone older, yet not as mature. Something she found very....odd. Then again most her age were dead.

[Sargon Denumic]

Sargon continued on in this conversation growing a bit more interested in the Arrancar. She was unique from the others that he had met recently including Aurora and Zegram and for one reason or another he got the feeling that she needed to be looked after even if experienced seeped from her. He saw the shift in her attitude and demeanor at his declaration of her strength and then found it somewhat interesting at how she phased her reasoning. She didn't deny what he claimed. She only chose to shine further detail on the matter and then seemed to belief that Sargon himself wouldn't understand what she meant as to her he was inside of the safe walls and not in the dangerous forest of desert.

Sargon waited a moment and then a slight grin spread across his face. A rarity to say the least there were less than a handful in the entirety of Las Noches that could claim to have seen such a thing as only those who actually impose promise and grand potential cause such a expression on the God of Hollows. "A warrior can train from the moment he is born until the point in which he dies. The warrior can claim strength beyond that of imagination and belief. To be the strongest individual is a blessing and a curse. For even the strongest individual is prey before an army that never ceases to charge." Sargon starred at Dread his grin gone, but his words would more than likely carry his point to her.

He understood what she had meant and would probably be the only one among the high ranking Espada to even admit such a thing. Others if they knew of what he had just said would without a doubt question it. He was the Espada of pride and power one which was believed to perceive himself as unstoppable yet Sargon knew his own limitations. He was one of the most powerful entities ever to have graced existence yet even he would be powerless in the wrong situation. It was the only reason why this realm didn't completely blow before him as their God. "I have a proposal for you Dread."

[Tsajara Dread]

She was a bit surprised by that smile. That grin that wrapped about his jaw and seemed so.....flooding. Like gates opened after a long winter, letting built up water spill out. IT was strange and...fleeting. But even so the very memory of it burned into her mind, which toiled over what it was that she had seen, considering it for a moment as she took but a tilt of her head in response to his next words.

She had to admit she did not think it in him to be so humble, no doubt he was wiser than he let on and this...intrigued her. Did he simply act the spoiled prince? She was very much curious now. With that smile gone she paused, wondering if she would ever see it again, admittedly he seemed rather dashing when he did so, but she let that slip away, focusing on the male as he seemed to focus on her, considering for but a moment before his own addition came forth. And of all things an offering?

She gave pause, slightly.....perplexed. She confessed that she was hardly in a position to ask for anything. If nothing else he was perfectly situated to simply make demands of her. And here he had a proposition. Curiouser and curiouser. The idea of such a proposition among arrancar TYPICALLY was ....well usually one of subservience. Typically with plenty of consideration that she was a female. Admittedly sh doubted his would be so...lecherous, hardly that she would mind, but he was still an arrancar. She had a feeling that it was perhaps something...cooperative. Definitely better than being thrown out, as she so expected to be.

"You have mine ear, do tell." she noted softly, her curiosity audible in her voice as she awaited whatever deal he had to offer her, ignoring her mind's insistence on trying to guess what it was.

[Sargon Denumic]

Sargon could see the change in Dread's demeanor and could tell based off of how she was reacting that what he had said was something that she didn't expect to hear from him. Whether or not she intended to give away that information was irrelevant though simply because Sargon now knew it and thus it couldn't be any other way. It did give him some small additional insight on what she might think of the Arrancar inside of Las Noches though. Believing that the Arrancar in here were all supremely boastful and blinded by pride and arrogance was fairly accurate however the one with the title was also the one that knew it's downfall better than any other.

He awaited the few brief moments that were necessary for Dread to collect herself and regain her fixated expression and demeanor the one that gave off her age which still for some reason felt insignificant compared to him. Yet Sargon knew that he wasn't all that old compared to other Arrancar. Some were hundreds of years old yet he had the feeling that Dread was far older than even that. So why did he have the feeling she couldn't compare to him when he had only become a hollow towards the end of World War Two. It was something that he would have to think over later yet the prospect that it might have to do with the images that were frequenting his mind did come up for a moment.

"From what I've learned of you so far You're a rather rare individual. One that understands the situations around her and thinks about most of the actions she takes prior to taking them. Unique . . you are and by my side I offer you that which you have lost." Sargon starred at Dread with his stern eyes now not holding any emotion to them at all they would seem vacant somehow. "The safety of Las Noches and training under me in exchange for your loyalty. Whether you choose to accept is up to you and know that your decision won't play a role in your survival. Whether you agree or not I plan on sparring you, whether you survive out there." Sargon pointed to the exit that she had used to get into the basement which he had found some time ago in the light. "Is entirely on you."

[Tsajara Dread]

Ahh.... Again.
She had almost forgotten it.... this....sensation. How long ago had it been? How long ago since the last man had gone to her seeking help  with....aspirations of grandeur. She remembered them so very very well. That shinigami who burned the ground around him. The Quincy possessed by demons, and with that.....object no less. She fell silent as she...thought it over. It was different this time. Naturally.

It had been outside... In that eternal Night. Back when she'd had....something. Almost like a ship. Yes....back then, when she'd been on that strange strange vessel. She and her crew were simply wandering back then. It was a.......transitionary period. Back when faith in the true espada had been lost. And so the hollows had elexted ten of the wanderers instead. She had been named number four. She could have only imagined what the real Fourth felt. She imagined they probably didn't care. Back then...not many were privy to the situation. It were like children rebelling against their parents. They probably cared not. At least not until one of the real espada fell.

It was....of course...a.t that time that she herself found herself confronted with that monster, the Quincy with a fake star in his chest, insisting she take him to the real world, calling upon the loyalty she had sworn to him. Well....she'd taken him there at least. Taken him to his grave in there... She wondered, looking at Sargon, what kind of man was he? Understanding, at least so far. He gave her plenty of out. But well, she wouldn't need that just yet. He'd been right about one thing in particular: She oft considered things before going through.

"So I see.... I admit that I hardly am familiar with you. And so sworn I am to be to you.... I thank you for not forcing me to this, and offering me choice. But as you say, I much prefer to...consider before acting. If it should so please you, I would ask that I spend more time around you. Naturally It neednot be in here, nor do I expect you to care for me or protect me during this time. But I should ask for but.....three days. Three days with which to take your measure. And decide if you are a man I wish loyalty to." She proposed, setting her hands to her hips and awaiting his reply.

[Sargon Denumic]

Sargon stood listening to Dread's response to his proposal and was without a doubt not disappointed in her answer. Throughout Hueco Mundo he could force virtually any Arrancar or Hollow to follow him mindlessly out of fear for what he might do to them. Even after stating that he wouldn't kill them if they choice not to join him the majority would still doubt such a thing and agree out of fear. So now seeing that Dread was one of the few that sought to keep decisions intelligent the Espada grew to understand that he might not find another Arrancar as unique in a long time to come.

It seemed that so far she wasn't completely opposed to the idea yet didn't know him enough to swear loyalty to him just yet and that was perfectly reasonable. She wouldn't be able to see what was going on inside of his mind as his facial expressions didn't shift or change in the least after her answer. He still bore that stern gaze and somewhat apathetic expression to his face. He was anything, but apathetic yet his face normally just seemed to be held in such a way and now that Dread was finished with her answer it was time for his decision.

"Alright then as you wish. For the next three days you will accompany me in order to make your decision." Sargon turned towards the entrance of the basement and moved his right hand up from his pocket waving towards the stairs. From that moment onwards Sargon would ascend from the basement taking roughly another thirty minutes until the both of them got into the hallways of Las Noches. They would then continue to wall in the light.

Sargon was leading her base to his chambers in Las Noches in order to speak with her further and show her where she'll be staying while she makes her decision. On the way there though a few male Arrancar walked by the both of them. Sargon paid them little to no attention as they were weaker than Dread even at her present state and held no presence that could be deemed unique. However, that didn't keep them from noticing how little the slim Arrancar was wearing. Those with little minds would never learn to keep to themselves in the presence of those that such actions and thoughts disrespected.

Just as they walked past each other and the three of them turned to watch Dread from behind Sargon's pressure seemed to single each of them out. Dread more than likely would notice how they were looking at her and if she turned to look at them or if she heard the sound of something hitting the floor she would see all three on their knees now. Each was gasping for air and crying in pain as their skin turned red and started to blister. He wouldn't kill them yet only teach that Dread was above such disrespect. "I think it best we find you something more suited to you."/

[Tsajara Dread]

She smiled as he led the way. So far so good. Such was her thoughts as she went along, following him up those winding stairs. Admittedly she was....curious. She had only once wandered up above, and this was only when she had appropriated some semblance of guise. But now, to walk up here with no secrecy about her, to simply stride into the light alongside the Espada. It was......interesting. so very different indeed.

She was...a bit surprised. She expected that she would be taken somewhere of course, perhaps meetings now and then through the course of three days, but it seemed she would be accompanying him throughout the entirety of these days. Not that she would so complain. As they passed those three, she was aware of those eyes, and admittedly she was a bit flattered. If that quincy boy had been anything to go by, apparently she was quite catching. Sensing them halting in their tracks to stare ather, she glanced over her shoulder. Only...of course.... to see Sargon's...wrath. She should have been a bit...perturbed. In her earlier years she might have asked him to stop. But well, given chances, it was likely that those three had been well on their way to hooting after her. But....that was not all.

She was...intrigued. His demeanor towards her was something perplexing. He demanded respect of her, sure. She new he was a man who held respect in very high regard, but she assumed that led only to himself. That he also expected others to respect her, and to even be so protective of her was.....unusual. Was this normal for him? she paused, her eyes shifting to him as he made his suggestion. She supposed she probably should get into something .....slightly less showy. She suddenly paused as she realized he might have her wear something a bit more conservative... Well....it would at least show her what he was like when people disagreed with him. She hadn't been eaten just to hide her brand new body. It was just about the ONLY perk she'd gotten out of the deal. She'd tone it down a tad she supposed, but well... they would see. To his words she offered a simple, thoughtful nod as they continued to walk, those pained noises growing further and further away.

[Sargon Denumic]

Sargon glanced backwards as the Arrancar bows feel to their knees and began to cry in pain from the burning sensation of his reiatsu pushing down on them all. He saw Dread respond to his suggestion with a nod and figured that was enough of an answer for now. There wasn't really much for her to say at the moment other than to voice her opinion on whether or not she agreed or disagreed with what he had just done to those Arrancar. However, she didn't make a voice to it at all so her opinion wasn't being voiced and that was her decision and one that Sargon accepted.

The two of them would continue to walk for roughly another thirty minutes as Las Noches wasn't small and it normally took that long to get back to the section that held Sargon's immense chambers. Sargon was leading Dread throughout the white halls of Las Noches and then turned to the right into a different hallway. Instantly everything was different. The walls were scorched black and at the very end of the hall Dread would see an immense door that had to be at least fifty feet in height and twenty in width.

Sargon walked down the hallway and as he did Dread without a doubt would follow. As they got closer though Dread would be able to make out more details of the massive door. She would first notice that there seemed to be statues that were apart of the door that looked to be like people stuck in the door. The door was double and would open between the two sections. As they were nearly upon it though Dread would be able to notice that the statues seemed very different. They had their arms out as if they were trying to get out of the door. As if they were drowning and yet that wasn't the only thing. Most looked like normal people yet others had masks like hollows and Arrancar and others were animals. "Welcome to my domain Dread."

[Tsajara Dread]

She always knew Las Noches was large, in fact she was a tad surprised that they had already arrived. She was fairly lucky that his tower happened to be so close to where she'd been. Even so, she was... a bit curious. She expected to be led to a guest room. So when she saw that.....door. She was not too surprised. She figured he wasn't going to be taking her to his room, she assumed she would be taken to less....savory parts of his tower. a guest room of some sort. Or well.. a cell. And given the looks of the door, the cell seemed far more likely. Well, she WAS an outsider, and one who had yet to swear loyalty to anyone. It was perfectly reasonable to think she'd be put in such a place.

She did not react to the door at first, and rather nodded to Sargon, then realizing he was probably seeking some reaction. She took a moment and looked upon the door itself. Seeing it closer, it wasn't just humans, it seemed that hollows were among them. MAybe even some arrancar. Individuals trying to escape a fate. Was it a symbol of mortal strife? Or maybe it was....simply.... an espada's manifested ego, that none could escape them? But.....it didn't match Sargon's earlier behavior. Which meant that his....protectiveness......was out of the ordinary. Just how interested in her was he? She doubted it was anything of a sexual manner. Perhaps he simpyl found her fascinating. She imagined he might be....bored. Given how strong he appeared, or really just Las Noches in general. What was there to do? There was.....white.....blandness. She wouldn't be surprised if he simply made his door lik this t have some variety. Maybe he changed doors frequently just to spice up the place.

If he really were so bored.....then finding an arrancar like her might indeed be very important to him.... and he certainly would want to keep her around, even if she did not swear to him, he would likely wish to keep tabs on her. She, an escape to the monotony that his life had become. This was becomming a bit clearer now... She turned to him and smiled softly as he had turned to open the door, or unlock it if such was the case. She watched him as his attention, at least partially, shifted away from her. She confessed....if only to herself, that he had saved her from boredom as well.  A pleasant little sentiment she supposed.

She looked forward and took a breath, waiting for that door to open and see whatever it was that awaited her inside. She had low expectations after all, at least initially. But now....with her new hypothesis....she might very well end up a bit closer to his own quarters than she surmised. Just how close to him would he put her? That indeed was the million ryo question.

[Sargon Denumic]

Sargon waited for a few moments to open the large doorway into the chambers that all throughout Las Noches held the Tercera Espada. He didn't think that Dread was going to react all that much from seeing the door and was pleased when that assumption came to be fact. Other Arrancar normally young ones that still believed themselves to be powerful would often times see the door way and start to doubt themselves. Dread was different though and Sargon would continue to find out just how much different from the ordinary Arrancar she happened to be. She was already unique enough that he would accept her as a Fraccion yet finding out even more was only icing on the cake.

So now Sargon moving his hands from his pockets placed each hand on the door one to each side precisely on the skulls of two different statues and pushed. It took a moment yet the door began to open and when it did Dread would feel an almost overwhelming amount of heat swarm out from the chamber. However, inside it would look completely dark with no light at all to be seen anywhere inside. Sargon started to walk into the room and after a moment fire began to light the room vaguely from torches set up on the walls. Dread would notice when she walked in though that this room was something else entirely from the rest of Las Noches. It stretched out farther than she would be able to see with dark walls and a ceiling so high she wouldn't be able to make it out.

The doorway it seemed wasn't placed in the center of the room either. Only about fifty feet inward and fifteen feet to the left sat a fire place that suddenly ignited with a blaze. Tot he right though if Dread look she would see it was being unveiled by the torches that now were light and gave light. It was roughly two hundred feet away in order to reach the other wall. This chamber was immense and Dread wouldn't be able to tell how large it even was without finding out how far it went and how high the ceiling was yet more than likely she wouldn't care to much.

Sargon walked through the chamber for about five hundred feet long past the fire place now and then suddenly stopped turning to the left and walking to the wall. He placed his hand on the wall and suddenly it seemed to move inwards and then to the side opening up a room. He stepped back and waved Dread into the room. He would await her to enter and then move in himself afterwards. When she got inside Dread would notice that the room itself even as a side was pretty large. It was almost a hundred feet squared. She might not have been thinking it was a bedroom and something different based on the size until she saw the bed in the center of the room which was far to large. It would more than likely be able to fit four people with space between them so why was it in this room that also had a dresser, mirror and bathroom. It didn't seem like the main room that much or even at all. The floors and walls weren't black they were brownish and there were no torches, but instead lights that lit the room brightly like that of the modern day.

Sargon walked past Dread over to the dresser and opened it up making sure that he had actually brought her to the correct room. He had in fact and inside of the dresser were assortments of the Las Noches uniform for females in various styles. Inside she would fine anything from the standard which covered most of the body to that of the more revealing which consisted of little more than booty shorts and what they would deem a shirt which covered nothing more than the female bust. He then looked to Dread making sure she was paying attention and pointed to the doorway that opened into the shower.

"Inside you will find cleaning supplies along with a bath or shower. You're free to do whatever you like inside of this room as this is now yours for the time being Dread." Sargon began to walk towards her since she would more than likely still be by the door and then when he got to her something different happened. Suddenly his hands gripped the tattered clothing she had on and ripped them off. Sargon looked over the bare Arrancar sternly. While Dread might be taken aback and unsure as to what was going on after Sargon himself had been so punishing to the Arrancar boys that dared look at her sexually. However, whether she was bare now or not Sargon wasn't looking at her for perverted reasons nor for reasons that aligned themselves with mating. He looked over her front and then spun her around looking over her and then back around. His stern eyes met hers as he nodded his head slightly. Her hollow hole was in the center of her chest and to the side near one of her breasts was a wound that hadn't yet healed. Sargon knew wounds and this one wasn't one from fangs or a blade instead the culprit was an arrow. Dread might be taken aback by the motion, but Sargon moved his right hand up over her wound and in an instant a green glow surrounded his hand only for it to be gone. Dread if she cared to look would see the wound was gone and she would feel in better shape than she more than likely could remember ever being. "There all better."

Sargon would then walk past Dread to the door only to stop a moment after exiting. "Take your time getting accustomed to the room and finding the clothing that you wish. When you're clean and dressed I'll be out here." Sargon stepped out of view back towards the direction of the fireplace and with him the door shut slowly. Dread would now have more than enough to think about for awhile yet as she stood there she would suddenly hear a few things. The clothing that she had been wearing suddenly started to burn into ash on the floor. Then afterwards a high scrapping sound came from behind her. If she turned to look she would see that the door that now blended in with the wall was somehow being cut shallowly. It would only take her a moment to realize what was happening, but after about five seconds her name would be inscribed on the door signaling that the room she was in at the moment was hers and no other individual would be able to claim such a thing.