Fool!

closed rp blog for Rukia Kuchiki from Bleach 

[deathblizzard]

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[deathblizzard]

;sukeban Rukia tho 👀

[deathblizzard]

black--sun​:

Ichigo jerks back from that kick, getting clipped by her toes, which just seems to intensify the impact. He hops, cursing cause it smarts like a bitch. “Consistently bad,” he snaps. Then he frowns, not because it’s a bad idea but because she’ll pick something awful to “study”. Possibly even something worse than her distressed damsel routine. Honestly, he’s never seen less of a damsel in his life. “You’d be better off studying real people, you know. Fake people are fake.” As if it should even need to be said.

He’s got his lips pressed in the face of that impish grin he gets, but his expression falls for a second before snapping back into place. She’s baiting him. He crosses his arms, leaning over her slightly to emphasize the height difference that he’s counting on to still piss her off, speaking at full volume. “Maybe I should be surprised you remembered at all.” Not that he can stay annoyed when she finally admits to the truth. Those two are good for each other. He’s glad they’re close.

“From somewhere. Right.” He’s not impressed. Try to do a nice thing. Of course she has to make it difficult. 

“Are you gonna move your ass, or do I have to carry you?”

But she suddenly looks so miserable, Ichigo stops. He hates that look. “…you really hate it here that much?” No, he doesn’t think that’s it. She has enough fun while she’s here. She likes the people. She has friends. But it’s not her home. And Seireitei isn’t his.

Better things. Something about that pisses him off. He can’t even see her eyes because she’s so goddamn short and she isn’t looking at him, and he clicks his tongue and grinds his knuckles against the top of her head and really digs them in the exact way his sisters hate. “No. I don’t have better things to do with my money. I earned it. I can spend it on whatever I want and whoever I want, so you’d better suck it up or you’ll be wearing whatever I pick. Maybe some giant, clown pants. Or little boy clothes. You’d fit right in. There’s your character. And then…” He takes a hard breath and sighs again, softening that digging knuckle and ruffling her hair instead. Jeez. He hopes he permanently messed it up. “Next time, I’ll come see you.” 

Rukia corrects him with a frown. “Consistently got me out of situations more like.” She's surprised that he has interest in what she makes her source, raising a brow at him. She considers his words for a moment, hand rising to her chin as she looks over him from head to toe for a second before commentating. “Hmm, I’d try to emulate you, but I’m afraid I’d get wrinkles from looking so pissed off all the time.” Having got in another jab she continues her thought, shrugging off his suggestion. “But real people are complicated. If you look at a guy on the street, who knows what the hell is going on in his head. Maybe he’s missing his family dearly, or maybe he’s just hungry or something.”

She’s tuned out too much to hear his call to hurry up. But she does catch his next words, confused both by them and her feelings on them. “Hate it here? No, I–” Maybe she liked it too much. That’s where she gets stuck, sinking ever deeper into those feelings, the emotions dragging her down like mud. When she’s here it’s like some sort of vacation where she can forget how wound together she keeps herself and all the things she holds close to herself. Even her ‘character’ from before draws from that emotion, and taking a break from responsibilities and trying to be someone completely different. Or it’s just her soul that died too young yearning for what it never had the chance to. There’s a constriction felt in the artificial bones when she clasps her fist. Even here, there’s always an echo in her mind that she’s in a shell, and not a body. Is she just running away again? From being a captain? And then she gets mad, blowing up with emotions for feeling anything one way or the other because she should be able to hold it all together better and there’s still parts of her that dislikes herself deep within her.

Before she has the proper chance to berate herself further, she is roused with the digging of knuckles upon her head as she tries to brace the impact with holding her own head steady. “Hey, what are you–” She listens with a glare as she pats down her hair, trying to flatten the tousled locks to something more neat. Her eyes open, always surprised by how he always seemed to have a good read on her without digging up the dirt between it all. She didn’t quite understand her own problem, and she sure as hell didn’t know the solution, but Rukia’s head raises with a fond smile, feeling eased somehow just with their friendship not being tied to the world of the living. 

She could say a lot of things, but the only thing that feels right after that is one: “Weirdo.” Her tone is softer, affectionate, and grateful, even if her nickname is typically used to be insulting, though affection has never been something she expresses normally anyways. “As if I would wear anything like that. You’re so irresponsible with your funds, no wonder your place is still so dinky. If you came to the soul society you’d have plenty of space and I’d even let you participate in my squad exercises.” Settled and feeling more herself, she makes haste, rushing for the exit ahead of Ichigo, leading even if she has no idea where they’re going. “Come on, are you coming or what?”

[deathblizzard]

playkinshara​:

She’s so formal

Rose knows full well that’s not entirely her fault. It may have been a while since he’d negotiate the delicate dance that dominates most noble interactions, but it’s still one he knows well. Hell, it’s probably even worse for her, the Kuchiki name is a huge one to have thrust upon you. He knows, too, the two of them are more or less strangers. She’s playing it safe, and he can respect that.  Still, even as he glances down at her bow, he finds himself a little amused by how hard she’s trying here, wishing she’d lighten up. He’s discreet about it, of course, to do otherwise would be cruel, but it just feels so much.  He gestures for her to take a seat, offering an encouraging smile. 

“Rose will do, and there’s no need for such for deference. If we’re comparing noble status here, you probably out rank me rather than the other way round.”

They talk business for a while, the lieutenant the suggestion of a novice but eager enough student. Until he suggests evaluating her skills and, she turns from polite and somewhat reserved into a deer caught in the headlights. Her reasons are understandable, but only show how naive she is to the art process. 

“Of course” he stands, thinking he can go fetch her an instrument if she hasn’t bought her own, his own collection is large enough, he keeps up the smile, aiming for open and approachable more than anything. She already looks out of her depth “If we don’t know where we’re starting from then how am I to help you?” 

He spreads his hands in an open gesture, dismissing her concerns about acceptable with a shake of his head, spotting her instrument, pleased she’s come prepared. This is one thing he doesn’t intend to back down on. There’s little room for shyness in art, after all. It’s gratifying to hear her agreement, he’d rather not get into a stand-off about this. 

“Please do, we’ll worry about finesse and acceptable once we know what you can do”

His smile does fade slightly as Rukia begins the performance, recognising the song, the rushed tempo and the inconsistency of the notes. It’s not great but it’s by no means the worst he’s heard. It’s a shame she’s expected to perform the song exactly as written, he thinks, her slight twist on the tune has a spark of promise to it. With the right encouragement, she might develop it into something exceptional…

“That’s enough” 

He raises a hand and lets her bring the performance to its conclusion.  The look on her face tells Rose that she’s expecting more criticism than fair. It’s not just her playing that needs work, he thinks, it’s clear to Rose she’s in dire need of a confidence boost too, at least when it comes to this. 

“Not bad” his expression brightens, and he offers a short clap “room for improvement certainly but you certainly have the basics down. We need to work on your tempo and the strength of your sound, but there’s a solid enough base to work from” 

He catches her eye, holds her gaze 

“How do you think it went?”

Normally Rukia is a lot more comfortable with setting the level of respect, her default far more casual and nipping any requirement for formalities at the door. It’s easy enough to set that tone with her squad, and but not one that is as easy when it comes to practices that are rooted in nobility. Here, all that she does is some kind of emulation of what she knows is expected of her, as it basically has become associated with the instrument in her hand.

But with just a change in name addressing to something more casual she feels a small weight off her shoulders. She tries not to read too far into the smile, pulling back only one layer of the many. That layer included the one that allowed her to more freely outburst with defense. “I suppose that may be true, but more than that I simply wanted to convey my respect! It is only right to treat those more knowledgeable with respect. Maybe… Rose-dono then?”

Being treated with elevation from others always bugged her. In a way, it was a sort of isolation for her, a way to see her for what she was, and not who she was. “I’ve never been one to sit well with comparing statuses honestly.” That was one habit of nobles that she could never grow into; brags were reserved strictly for her own accomplishments. Rather than status, she has always tried to look at people as people first, and their statues far from second.

As she hears his call to stop, she slows and finishes the last line, his voice sending a feeling of dread, worrying now if her playing has somehow offended him somehow. Instead, as she brings her instrument to rest, he comes off a bit softer on her than she expects, and it feels like the strings that keep her expression strung drop all of their tenseness then. “I see.” Still, he might be trying to be polite, and it still feels like a large hill to climb for anyone to accept her as a musician, and she can’t really be satisfied at just getting the basics. None of those are words she can fully accept, so she frowns as her gaze turns downward.

Rukia had spaced, but soon found Rose trying to catch her gaze, and she nearly jumps, surprised to see the critic turned back at her. “Me? Er, Well, it was…” She wants to say okay, but then the analytical noble in her takes over, speaking over herself in her head, using the voice of her last teacher. She wonders if she should listen to the critic or the steadfast standing strong soul in herself. While she played it was the critic, but to say criticism of herself out loud is something she normally never allows herself to do. But that confident soul does not rest in music, a world that was introduced to her late in life and has only the expectations to the level of nobles that she will never reach because she wasn’t born that way. She settles with something a bit more generic, still clearly unsure of herself even as she speaks with a waver in her tone. “A bit of a mess, don’t you think?” She doesn’t know the terms to phrase herself properly, having been taught the vocabulary, but never exactly sure of how to use it. “It didn’t really sound right. I missed a few notes and made multiple mistakes.” She made a mental note of the most mentioned notes from her last teacher and can’t help but echo them now. “I was distracted. Lacking a sense of rhythm or ownership.” In this moment, an instrument seemed a more fearsome opponent than sparring.

She catches now that he has a multitude of instruments in his office, out and ready to be played at any time like some kind of display. “Do you normally play in your office?” She eyes the door of entry now,  wondering if the wood and paper would do much for hushing the sound. “I’m honestly more used to somewhere more quiet.”

[deathblizzard]

"You killed arroniero right? Tell me something, Shinigami..... He had a face he used. Dark hair, sharp chin. How come Kurosaki looks like him?"

With the mention of the 9th espada, Rukia automatically takes a defensive stance, crossing her arms with a frown. “I did kill him, yeah.” Though she doesn’t quite remember all the details of the conclusion of that fight besides the rage, torture, and desperation that he boiled her blood in. Her hand goes to her upper abdomen area, the wound from his weapon recalling the memory with a small pulse through her veins. She knows the face that he’s talking about and her discomfort only rises. The reminder that he used to wear that face all the time outside of their battle doesn’t sit well with her, earning a face of disgust, as if she’ll throw up or at least spit to clear her mouth. Rukia can't help but think if only she had been able to kill him sooner and free that body from being used in such a way.

She remains on the matter at hand, raising a brow where he goes with this. “Why the hell are you asking me?” Ichigo seems more likely the one who should likely have an answer, her own involvement with the Shiba's far from obvious. Grimmjow’s question bugs her just an inch too far and she refuses to let it rattle her, nearly chuckling at his pestering for answers instead. Grimmjow ask a question that has always arisen but always gotten squelched before it gets the spotlight. And in turn, she asked a question that she would respond back in her head with. “Does it bother you that much?” She speaks with a maturity in her tone, as if she was above making such associations herself.

He has stepped into a topic she’s not freely going to give information about to many let alone an arrancar she doesn’t particularly have truth in. “Take a guess.” She shrugs, feeling generous today if he's lucky. “Maybe I’ll feel like confirming.”

[deathblizzard]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 - 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

RULES: bold which trope you prefer (or, in some cases, maybe just hate the least!) out of each of the following pairs

Slowburn or love at first sight 

fake dating or secret dating

Enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers

Oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence (I don't think Rukia would blink much at sharing a bed, which could be some kind of entertaining? But I do like the idea of depriving Rukia of her usual physicalness?)

Hurt/Comfort or amnesia (I loveee Rukia's kind of comfort for other muses a whole lot cause it's pretty unique and pretty fun, but I would be pretty down for some sort... fade to black verse divergence or something? Amnesia gets a bit redundant unless you do some fun with it though)

Fantasy AU or modern au

Mutual pining or domestic bliss (both are very good, but I think I like reading mutual pining more)

Smut or fluff

Canon Compliant or fix-it

reincarnation or character death (if just because the aftermath of character death is a bit more intriguing)

one-shot or multi chapter 

kid fic or road trip fic

arranged marriage  or accidental marriage

College romance or middle aged romance

time travel or isolated together

neighbours or roommates

sci-fi au or magic au

Body swap or genderbend

angst or crack

Apocalyptic or mundane

Tagged by @the-actual-last-quincy (ty!)

[deathblizzard]

;Question I'd love to hear other's answers on:

How does your muse text?/message Do they text? Do they use acronyms? Emojis? Stickers? Are they to the point, or longwinded(maybe they view it like a letter?) Do they correct misspellings or let them slide? Do they send a bunch of small messages at once?

[deathblizzard]

the ultimate question

Chappy

Seaweed ambassador

Kon

All other far inferior mascots

Voting ended onFeb 15, 2023

[rpdepartment]

munday asks!!!

at what age did you start RPing?

do you RP anywhere else, other than tumblr?

on what platform did you start RPing?

what made you choose this muse?

is there any other muse in this fandom you RP?

is there any other muse in this fandom you’d like to RP?

is there a muse you played on more platforms or in different moments of your life? 

did you have a muse you tried to play, but didn’t feel connected to?

did you have muse you tried to play, but ended up dropping for various reasons? (the rpc wasn’t active, you lost interest, etc)

would you be interested into playing a crossover? if yes, do you have any limits?

would you be interested into playing with doubles? 

what do you think about AUs?

what do you think about OCs?

what do you think about roleplaying with personals?

what do you think about roleplaying with anons?

what’s the best way to approach you to start playing together?

what was your first muse?

did you ever play a muse for more than a year?

do you have ship bias?

what’s a ship you don’t want to roleplay at all with this muse? (except Bad Illegal And Gross Stuff, of course)

what do you think of your muse’s popular fandom ship?

what do you think of your muse’s canon ship, if they have one?

would you play a OC x canon ship?

would you play a crossover ship?

do you play smut? do you play it only with characters you’re shipping with, or are you open for “one night stands”?

are you multiship?

are you interested into poly relationships for your muse?

is your muse canon divergent in any way?

what are your honest thought about your muse’s canon?

what are your favorite RP tropes to play? (angst, hurt-comfort, etc…)

do you regularly play crack?

do you regularly do dash commentaries?

what are your thoughts on dash commentary?

what are your thoughts on reblog karma?

if you aren’t a native english speaker, do you play in your first language too?

do you feel similar to your muse in any way?

do you feel different to your muse in any way?

what’s the best inspiration for your muse?

what’s a song that reminds you of your muse?

[ OBLIGATORY FREE SPACE!!! Ask anything you’d like! ]

[deathblizzard]

Do you prefer using honorifics in replies?

Yes

No

flex/whatever writing partner does

Voting ended onFeb 14, 2023

[playkinshara]

@deathblizzard

Rose sits back in his chair, surveying the young woman across his desk, a little unsure what to make of her. He knows she’s not exactly here out of love for art or anything like that, but that’s okay. She’s not the first noble who’s come to him for help and Rose doubts she’ll be the last. 

“It would be my pleasure to assist you with that, lieutenant”

He offers an easy smile, her request simple enough that he doesn’t need to think too hard before giving this acceptance. It’s only a few lessons and a little coaching, nothing he hasn’t done before.  It also doesn’t hurt to court good favour with a high ranking clan such as the Kuchiki’s either. That’s reason enough to welcome her in and hear her out. Perhaps with enough effort, he might even begin to foster that spark within her.

Practicality kicks in, and he moves onto the nuts and bolts of what needs to be done without much fuss. She’s hear already, isn’t she? So why waste time. She’s been clear in her needs after all. What would be the point in sending her away only to bring her back later again. 

“So, where would you like to begin? Perhaps it’s sensible if you play me something, let me assess what we need to work on”

[deathblizzard]

Since the beginning of her lessons into nobility, Rukia had learned to prepare herself for a large amount of criticism and conformity to certain standards when entering a room that sought to place the Kuchiki name on her shoulders. This had proven similar when learning entertaining talents for family obligations; teachers never dared to repeat themselves, there were no minced words, and they seemed to only care to teach at the level that was expected of her and not where she was. Rukia had assumed that Rose would dissect her apart in a similar manner, and she regards him just as serious as she does with her original teacher. She gives a grateful bow, the shamisen, her instrument of practice, carried in its case, reaching above her own stature, held between both arms tightly as to not to slip as she bends."I appreciate you making the time for me--captain... teacher?" As she rises back up, her expression falters, unsure which of the titles is more suitable in this moment, or if one supersedes the other. The nerves of unknowing-ness rushing through her further adding perplexion to the clarity of which title was more appropriate.

"Er-- right now? Here?" The idea of playing in this environment seemed bizarre, she was far more used to something more private and tucked away, startling her, getting a little jump out of her. It felt like crossing the parts of herself she tries to keep seperate, like breaking an invisible rule of her own. Quickly she finds that there won't be a period to prepare, bringing her skill to the spotlight right here, but she's not one to refuse, even if she hesitates. As she hoist the case down, she frowns, turning sheepish, with a scratch of her neck, preparing her new teacher for what she expects to be an awful performance. "Well I haven't played in some time. I'm afraid I was 'acceptable' at one point, but with everything going on I haven't given the shamisen much attention." The looming event of the family flower viewing had kicked up the need for her improvement and had her focus switch from giving her free time to swordplay and practice exercises for her squad to musical instruments and dances. And it had seemed that her talent in music had far more eroded than her dance skills and was quickly needed to improve.

"I suppose I could try to play something at least." She resigns herself to playing with a sigh as she opens up the case. Hoisting the instrument in her lap, with her hands hovering above the strings, she breaths and readies herself. But did she dare to play the piece that had her told to seek a teacher? Or would it continue the curse of having people turn her away to seek help elsewhere? Her face scrunches, as if eating something sour, before she decides to not overthink it and simply play an excerpt of the piece. The way she holds the instrument is textbook-like form, but when she presses upon the strings half of them she presses too gentle to ring a proper note with a start and end. The melody at least keeps its identity, but has a sort of facelift with the version Rukia plays, although it’s not on purpose. Her rhythm has far too much urgency, and she’s preempting the notes before their turn, as if playing on fast forward, although it's at least consistent. With each off note that resounds, Rukia seems to lose momentum, the sounds deteriorating further as she goes along her face easily revealing her opinion as she flinches at every string plucked. Her confidence seems impossible to find in her expression and in her playing, and she can't help but apologize with a sigh and a bow upon concluding. "It’s not every good, I’m sorry."

[deathblizzard]

Do you use beta or legacy text editor?

beta

legacy

Voting ended onFeb 13, 2023

[deathblizzard]

As if this is anything close!

Tagged by: @playkinshara

Link is here 

[deathblizzard]

reservedhealer​:

The modicum of calm she discerned from her charge was a good sign, noted Isane cautiously with an inward sigh of relief. Eventually the devastation of the day and the trauma Rukia had undergone would sink in, but Isane hoped that would only catch up after the sedatives had kicked in and her patient had had some rest. They had a small moment of respite in the present. It would be foolish to squander it when everybody would be on their feet soon enough, pending further developments of the current situation. Troubles always came in threes, her old mentor had once told her, and it was something Isane had regretfully observed to be true for the most part. If this opening salvo was anything to go by, worse was yet to come. However, she held her tongue on such dark thoughts as they would be antipathetic to the already depressed spirits of her patient, particularly one she regarded as a friend who would have to face the bellicosity of the opposing forces again.

“So I do,” she acknowledged with a bitter smile, reflecting there might be some truth to the younger officers quipping she was the aunt to the Fourth just as Captain Unohana had been its mother. She briefly wondered if she was taking her mother hen tendencies too far, but abandoned the notion at the lack of visceral complaints from Rukia. Not wanting to distress the smaller female, an answering closed-lip smile was proffered in response to the self-deprecatory chuckle. “Our concern for anyone under our care or supervision doesn’t stop. Over-protectiveness is an occupational hazard among some of us here. We can’t help it. We do what we need to here, and you and the rest do what you need to do out there. I think… despite our different raison d'être, it’s times like these when we each need to something familiar because we’d go mad or madder, in certain cases, if we weren’t keeping busy.”

“Surviving is a good thing,” she echoed more bracingly, darting an askance glance at Rukia, fearful that it was leading the latter into low thoughts again. “It means you can take the time to heal, regroup, rethink, re-strategise, gain perspective and grow stronger to head out again another day. You can’t do that if you’re dead. Don’t mind me. I’m rubbishing. Other Divisions take a more forthright approach in the field.” At the reference to Captain of the Sixth, the hand that had been patting Rukia stilled. Should she reveal the harsh reality, concentrate on soothing her patient or forge a middle path between them? Or a little of all those options?

“Well, you’re both in no condition to move or be moved just yet,” came the automatic reply as she mentally assessed the physical conditions of both the Kuchikis. Cogitating over the matter for a few seconds, she settled for a middle ground that melded being economical with the truth and palliating her friend’s anxieties. “Your brother is still unconscious as he has been put through a lot. The Captain worked on him personally and is tending to him, so you may rest easy that he is receiving the best possible care,” she outlined truthfully while omitting the details of all to which the man had been subjected in the field and on the operating table. “If Captain Kuchiki was awake, he would surely want to see you in better spirits than worried over him. When he’s conscious in a few days’ time, I’ll ask the Captain if you may be allowed to see him. But in the interest of both your recoveries, moving either of you is inadvisable at present.” Catching sight of Rukia’s tight grip on the sheets, she patted the hands and added in a conspiratorial whisper more for levity than any actual soothing: “He’s not looking his best now but if you believe our matron, he’s too handsome too die. Not much of him is visible above the bandages, but the nurses still go to fuss over him because they wouldn’t get to look at him up close on normal days. I hope they’re not molesting him too much.”

An exaggerated sigh of dismay escaped Isane at the mock chastisement. “Well, if I said you rivalled a peony in bloom right now, you would know I’m lying. Even on usual days, you’re more a chamomile than a peony.” She feigned a little pout but interjected more seriously as she continued. “Be the chamomile. It’s a small flower but incredibly hardy. It can be trod upon and driven over, but it will always pop back up again.” With this well-meaning attempt to rally her patient, she helped Rukia settle back into bed when she saw the telltale signs of leaning back. At least Rukia was proving easier to handle than the some of the unrulier soldiers from the other Divisions, Isane mused, grateful for this much in the current time when she was beginning to feel mentally drained.

Her eyes darted up as further queries were levelled at her. Here, she could be entirely honest with the facts. “According to our first responders, about half the buildings are untouched, everything else is still standing but severely damaged. We have had casualties across all Divisions, with some worse hit than others. They seemed to be targeting either the ones who were trained to be the first line of defence or the ones who can’t defend themselves effectively to clear the way for better control over the lay of the land,” she disclosed, a frown creasing her brow as she analysed the details she knew from the patients’ records and snatches of conversation she had heard from the other officers and staff nurses. On hindsight, she hazarded an educated guess that their adversaries were vigorously forcing pawn exchanges for the sake of capturing more valuable pieces and forcing their way to the centre of the board. It would appear that her old mentor had been right about the complete lack of niceties in blitz chess. She shook her head and admitted, “The Captain said that’s to be expected when we’re dealing with a group who don’t play by the rules.”

The smile at the flicker of Rukia’s customary cheer at the thought of visitors turned into a poorly smothered giggle, though she did her best to purse her lips. “In extenuating circumstances, people have been known to employ methods they usually wouldn’t,” she explained rather obliquely, covering the blanket more properly over her friend. “Rest now and I’ll see who’s out there and send them in for you.”

There was a reason that it seemed rare enough for the high positions to simply go into retirement. To get that far seemed to require some amount of stubbornness, if not some kind of resolved will beyond human. Most of all the captains tended to see it through until death or some other awful fate. But Rukia knew that having constants was really the ease through all of that. “Maybe you’re right about that. And I doubt these are any habits we’ll be breaking soon either.” For the moment the familiar constant of slumber and the feel of a soft bed and blanket was beginning to pull Rukia to it, slumping her shoulders just a bit more beneath the covers.

Rukia recognizes the concern Isane has in her words, but only lets out a struggling bit of a chuckle as she assures her. “I wasn’t disagreeing with that idea, don’t worry yourself.” She lifts her head as she talks, feeling well enough in this moment to speak her own advice. “If you worry your head about everything a patient might think you are going to overbear yourself very quickly and for problems that might not even be there.” Rukia might have trailed off before, but she was just remembering: remembering when surviving was the only thing she had to worry about. It’s changed a lot since then, much more for the better, she reckons. The way Isane tries to get her to think better of surviving reminds her of someone else. At this point it might be a bit of herself, but Isane is definitely missing the confidence in sticking with the words she’s trying to drive. “Though if you’re going to try and change someone’s mind on a matter, I’d suggest filling your words with a bit more conviction as you go instead of second guessing yourself.”

As she listens, Rukia rubs at her eye a little, from tiredness or something else it’s unspoken, before nodding. She had expected care of course, learning that much earlier. The word unconscious hits her a bit differently this time, getting a particular thinking ‘hmm’ out of her. Shutting her eyes with a breath, Rukia tries to take better comfort in the replacement she uses of ‘alive’ and ‘under the best care’ this time. It doesn’t quell her body as much as she hopes it does, but it eases her mind. She can’t help but think, frowning as she does, if her brother is unconscious it would be nice to be there when he comes to. But Rukia holds her tongue at Isane’s reminder of her own state. As her mind and body are opposing sides, her mind wanting to rid itself of horrific imagery imprinted on it, and her body trying to hold itself together and rebuild itself so she can be there for those who need her, she tries to consider, which of the two was stronger? Her concerns or her obligations to follow through on what her brother would wish for? In this moment, as she is thinking of him, her shoulders sagging, she feels the push to try and use the wishes she pictures her brother would want rather than the easy selfish desires she clung to fill so hastily. And then, with a decision, she tries to push herself to will the reality of being there when he comes to as nothing but a nice thought and not a need that she wants to hold on to tightly. At the mention of a few days she’s setting up a mental countdown, either to be better by, or the check in again on her brother’s state. What follows catches her off guard, exasperating all knots she had placed upon her spine, waking her from any semblance of lulling her to sleep. “Is that a thing? A-Are you sure I should be hearing such things?!” Is it the proper thing to nod along to such things? Maybe later she will be able to see it more as him receiving more than enough attention as a patient. But while it’s not excitement, those words by themselves might have been disruptive enough to get her heart beating and face reddening and blood pumping. Putting her hand upon her chest, she feels the beating of her heart, trying to will it to calm, knowing that the rhythm there threatens both her recovering wounds as well as the composure she would like to possess. She tries to will in one more request on the matter, somewhat shyly. “…P-Please make sure nothing untoward occurs with my brother. He– No, I don’t think I could handle the idea.” 

The analogies of flowers are mostly lost to her, earning Isane more of a confused glance more than anything. Most of the details are unclear on her, but she can at least nod to the bigger picture. “A chamomile? Is there much of a difference?” Rukia was honestly not too familiar with too many flowers’ names beyond a few particular ones that striked her fancy, and even with those, she doesn’t always take the time to ask for their names. Asking her to be a flower rings a bit closer to old notes during the times of her education to become a noble. Rukia preferred the more straightforward notes, but there was a sense of poeticness to it if you squinted. And with Isane, she seemed to find a sort of flow in that advice more than the earlier set. If Rukia had to pick one, she would much prefer this one, and it even earns her a tinge of a soft smile. “I’ll take being a chamomile. Whatever that looks like.”

Her brows furrow, hand rising to her chin in thought as she considers the numbers given to her. It’s the furrowing of her brows that starts to feel like some kind of headache or signal of her body to alleviate herself from taking much more on. Instead of obeying the will of her body, she tries to relax her face, which is harder than she assumes. “No, that all makes sense, just much sooner than I’d have expected.” She’s grown used to going to the territory of the enemy so it’s been unusual for it to be on their own homeland. For an assault on their own territory the strategy has been implemented masterfully, and the speed and surprise of it surely had been considered as well. She sighs, trying to pull the emotion out of it, but even just translating lives into numbers has a harshness to it. That thought is something she’ll have to rally her squad around, once she sees how many of them are left. Rather than thinking too hard, Rukia nods, letting herself accept Isane’s offer to seek company, resting her eyes for two seconds, then three, letting the thoughts pass rather than considering them for too long. Between each moment she glances at the door, waiting, until her eyes feel heavy and she can no longer bear keeping her stiffening her body upright.

[deathblizzard]

;I can only picture Rukia giving the biggest face of disapproval and disgust at being called a pet name. Idk if she's just too serious or has some pride in her name, or class change has just ruined it but she will not entertain it. Or maybe she just thinks you're pitying her and are too cheesy. You might be able to get away with nicknames on her name but 'sweetheart' or 'honey' sort of things she has a zero tolerance of liking. I think she does like how her name sounds from her partner though :>

;but the canon thing that she turns bright red if called "Abarai-taichou" and can't bear it, so she insist on also being called "Kuchiki-taichou" is v cute. It's the chip in that armor.

[deathblizzard]

Does Rukia ever have any mistrust or hesitations about getting back into a gigai after her... uh... previous experience?

;Her current feelings towards gigai are pretty relaxed, despite everything. I would say she has a bit of mistrust but it’s subtle and probably not how you would expect. There’s a couple things that make me lean that way though.

With technology, which I consider gigai to lie in, Rukia is pretty uninterested in anything besides what it can do. She tends to focus on the results more than any process or details. Despite her past experiences with gigai, using them currently has a better benefit that outweighs any hesitation she could have. Seeing people and being able to yuck around in the world of the living is far too fun and interesting for her to hesitate. I feel like it’s kind of being screwed around on a phone/internet company bill but staying with the same contract, cause you still need a phone/internet anyways. As long as the thing functions properly and meets expectations, she’s pretty happy.

I tried thinking about her feelings upon her time in it around the first arc-ish, and tried to think if she would feel them again upon returning to a gigai again, and I don’t think so. Most of her emotions there lean more towards frustrations with its unresponsiveness, which doesn’t seem like it would repeat upon entering a proper one. During the first arc I don’t think she felt trapped in it either; I think she thought she could leave it if she wanted to. I wondered if she considered exiting it for a moment to just feel like herself, but I don’t think she would risk that at that point, and I kind of picture that she sees being in her shinigami form as weaker than the state of being in the gigai at that point. She looked at it as a point of hiding, both from hollows and the soul society, considering she had still thought to have broken some law already. I don’t think she’s overwritten those feelings with too many thoughts by the time she gets the truth on the matter.

I think she tends to lean putting blame on people rather than objects. Like, I think if you have her rubix cube or some kind of frustrating object, rather than calling the object frustrating to work with, she’d probably call whoever gave it to her or herself stupid before calling the thing itself stupid, or call it stupid along with who gave it to her at least. Or if she feels like she’s bad at something, say calligraphy, she would think it’s her lack of skill before she would blame her tools.

Which is why those emotions, even those previously emotions of frustration from before, she shifts more to herself, and maybe Urahara(although I think she gets to a point of forgiveness with Urahara). But Rukia has a major habit of thinking too hard and blaming herself for things most of the time, so she carries it more on her own shoulders. 

Maybe more than hesitation or mistrust I feel like she might double check herself every once in a while in a gigai. In little subtle ways, like making sure she can still fire a kidou spell upon entering one, or stretching her arm or limbs or something more than she normally would all the time while in one. Or like, often testing her agileness with full on sprints at most opportunities where it's not that off putting. She finds herself and her instincts more reliable than measurements and scientific things so if she can lean on those for support it would lessen any mistrust and is a sort of comfort. And, more than a typical soul I think she would be aware and bothered by any sort of dysfunction or lack of mobility while in one, which is an after effect of everything. I think she would also be more harassing if it lets up even a little on her (and probably feels very justified and righteous in bothering Urahara to fix any issue there lol). But she definitely tries to give herself a bit more reassurance in the state of herself while in her gigai.

I feel like a lot of that ‘situation’ Rukia still carries on her own shoulders, and she thinks of it more as occurring from her choice of giving her powers. She considers her own action as the first domino that fell to get everything as it was, and even that feeling of a gigai like that is still pushed on herself because it's pushed into that tangled yarn ball. I think her lack of powers is more of a burning scar than restrictiveness in a gigai.

[deathblizzard]

🐾 (all 3 muses if you can XD)

Send me 🐾 and I’ll tell you what animal your muse reminds me of!

"I will say a hamster for Uryuu. They're always prepared, and have a certain amount of speed and energy about them.

For Shutara-dono I think a fox is most fitting. They have a sort mischief to them but also knowledge beyond typical. Sometimes they have a connection to deities and shrines as well which seems appropriate as well.

And for Szayel, maybe something like a peacock? They have arrogance and pride, but some sense of beauty?"