Today's Document
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
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@soulxfragments
Jez’ MAIN VERSE is set 10 years AFTER Thousand Year Blood War. That places it right around the HELL ARC.
IMPORTANT LINKS Rules Verses Headcanons
SIDEBLOGS: Shuuhei ofrexping (very low activity presently) River (Quincy OC) x-vandrelyst-x. Kino (Hollowfied Mod Soul OC) henge-reikon
Please read the rules before following.
PERSONALS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG.
Rules updated 09/26/2023
"Oh ho~" And what if? "Retaliation for impaling me... now I wonder what could be done in kind? I'm afraid the only weapon at my disposal right now is a bit blunt for that purpose..." As, admittedly, was his suggestive banter; painfully so. Perhaps that already made them even.
She tried to slip his grip—not very hard, he noticed. "Ohhhh no you don't," he chuckled, muscles drawing taught as he secured it with just the right amount of force, tugging her slightly closer. Soon her breath would grace his face, and more than that— but she remained playfully evasive, baring her fangs, though he could tell there was no longer any real bite in the bark.
Yet didn't he have to ask? That had rather been the point of this exercise, hadn't it, learning not to take without giving, not to assume or presume upon her willingness to follow blindly, but instead to make her equal partner in their enterprise... of course he must ask.
But it's been said that in matters of negotiation that one oughtn't ask a question without first knowing the answer—and he already had it in those shaky knees.
"Now that we've reached an agreement we mustn't risk a breakdown," he smirked. "Better to begin again on solid ground..." A thigh rose and shifted between hers, just as one hand tugged and the other pushed—the overall momentum of the motion meant to topple her off-balance until their positions were reversed, him kneeling between her legs, hands now pinning hers to the mat. His face grinned down at her amidst a flaxen tangle, as as it approached hers. "I believe tradition calls to seal a promise with a kiss..."
This game; a tango of risk and reward ever constant between lovers. Once with blades pitched and ready now warned of more blunted weaponry. Devious were his words. The evident whisper of a faint laugh resonating between parted lips at his blatant meaning, "Even blunt weapons have their uses." Jezebel whispered; an airy hush to her reply. Left breaths and thrumming heartbeats thundering within her chest when she's pulled closer. His grip secured upon her wrists and her body all the more in contact with his.
She could feel the wisps of his breath; the soft billows of warmth against her lips with each word he spoke. Practically tasting the essence of his form; his musk filling her senses reminding her of their first time together. How surreal, and intense it had been in that they engaged so deeply, and intimately in things even he had never experienced before. The memory draws another pull against her lips finding it impossible to resist the glimmer of mirth and the smile that accompanied it.
A breath caught feeling his thigh rise between her legs. Words ready to pass, only to be silenced as she felt herself moved swiftly onto her back to be pinned beneath him. Lips parted as her head rose from the mat, moving to nip against his chin, the top of his throat if he would allow her that reach.
"Only a kiss?" Jezebel whispered. Eyes half-lidded as they met his gaze despite her inability to see him. Always there. Always watching. Hungering gently as she squirmed just a touch beneath him, "It better be one worth remembering then." Brushing hers so desperately near to his; the tickle of sensation as they're brought in close enough to just barely not be touching. Warmth tickling against his, enticing him to close that tiny bit of distance, and savor the flavor of her own.
Which rage language are you?
The Regina George
Someone hurts you or pisses you off, and you don't do anything. At first. But you hold that feeling of rage in your chest for weeks after the fact, acting nice but silently hating their guts, pretending like all is forgiven until you can ruin their life and hurt them the way they hurt you. It's calculated. But when you've executed your revenge, will you be satisfied?
Tagged by: @uraharashouten <333333
Tagging: Anyone who hasn't done it yet.
A frisson ran through him at her insinuation. She had made him squirm, hadn’t she, in ways that even now—despite present circumstance—intruded on his thoughts and caused a delicious shiver. ‘Do you trust me?’ Her words from the beginning of this interaction came back to haunt him. She knew her way beneath his skin, and he had allowed it. He had opened hidden doors to her… in full knowledge of what she was and could be.
Her breath tickled his face as she leaned closer, blade in hand. Ah, so it seemed he was to go under the knife again… He watched her face, rapt in concentration, knowing it was not those eyes through which she’d monitor this operation, yet finding her blind gaze nonetheless compelling. Obediently, he slowed his breathing and willed his body to relax, even as the seems of his sleeve were split. He drew in a quick breath between his teeth as he felt his skin separate and her scalpel slip beneath. He knew this sensation well enough… this delicate flaying and separation of layers, the internal burning and movement… but it was different when it wasn’t by his own initiative. And then there was a rush, a purge, a flood of relief. ‘Do you trust me?’ Yes, his thoughts answered back. Wherever your dark impulses may lead you, I trust you to find your way back...
Was anyone home? Suddenly he was glad he’d not summoned Tessai… His pulse was increasing again, he noticed, but it wasn’t due to distress. “I think, considering no one’s shown up by now,” he answered carefully, “We could safely count on being left alone.”
He could feel the gentle tugs as his severed flesh was pulled back together and made whole, first beneath the split fabric, and then within—he grunted at the sensation of tendons being pulled taut and reattached. His fingers twitched…
In an instant, those fingers had caught her wrists. Whatever her hands may have intended, they’d be helpless to carry it out now, as he lay back on the tatami, pulling her along with him. “I’m feeling much better now, thank you,” he murmured, as her braid swung forward to slap softly beside him.
“Don’t worry, I’ve no thoughts toward retaliation…” But his tone suggested he had something in mind. “But I can think of a way, perhaps… that we might re-establish good faith.” His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “If you’re willing—"
All those subtle movements. Sounds. The song of his pain and hitched breaths beneath the commands of her hands, her blades, and the vicious sand. There was something in this shared trust between them that always managed to drag her back to her senses. To overcome doubt, and intrusive thought. Drawn his way like a hummingbird to flower, eager for the nectar that it may provide.
With what needed to be done, completed, she was instantly at the mercy of his grip. Her small form pulled forward as he lay back, dragging her ever closer with her knees positioned either side of his hips. A tiny tug; devious in the moment it appeared and vanished once more. Lips slightly parted, listening to the sound of his tongue glide along his own lips.
She's suddenly longing to experience those lips. That tongue. To feel his hands hold her; restrain her as roles switched back and forth between them like an endless game.
"What if I want you to retaliate?" Jezebel purred. A challenge placed in veiled threat to what she may do if he decides against it. She had been in charge, and now she wonders what he'll do with the power he has over her in their present positions. A slight tug on his hold just to get the point across. Provoking a response.
Slowly the distance would close. Lingering softly close to his lips with breaths washing against his own, aching to completely remove any separation so they may know one anothers kiss again, and again. But she restrains herself. Teases as her teeth would nip lightly along the bottom edge of his lower lip.
"Willing? You have to ask?" she questioned, "You should be warned, however~" Leaning up to whisper into his ear, "Shaky knees may be a dead giveaway."
I had a pretty lengthy discussion with @uraharashouten about what Ginjo, Ichigo, and the others, may manifest when they've mastered their Fullbringer.
It's the manifestation of the Fullbringer's will. Not so much the hollow as it is their connection. Personality, powers, etc. all presented in physical form.
Just thought it was a cool way to look at it.
Finished Commission for @soulxfragments.
Just a lil commission for a wonderful friend @uraharashouten.
Finished! Not super good with blood, but I think it turned out well!
Personals DNI Do not repost/reblog without permission.
The first thing Parca hears after Jezebel's maneuver and her demand is Bansui's voice in their head. "Thou are… the truest of fools."
Parca, stumbling backwards more out of pure shock than pain from Jezebel's attack moments before her blade would have made contact with his mask, first openly replies to Bansui, vexatiously shouting, "Hey HEY DON'T BE CALLING ME A FOOL, YA FOOL!"
Parca then slaps the side of his head, as if that would actually do anything to Bansui.
Bansui merely heaves a sigh, and then says within their shared mind, "Please, pay… attention, to her, before she… hits thine throat again."
Parca wanted to continue arguing with Bansui but they were right, better to pay Jezebel his attention.
Feeling around his throat where moments ago there was a scratch from Jezebel's blade (an insignificant mark that was quickly reversed by his High Speed Regeneration), Parca points at her and then blithely says, "that was mean, not nice not nice at all, ya don't slit yer pal's throats!"
Parca, throwing up both their hands in a very ecstatic manner, cackles and then adds, "not unless they be annoying ya anyway, but yer new pal Parca ain't like that!"
Parca then goes on to take a very exaggerated bow, before numerous smaller, baser Hollows pop up out of the sands around Jezebel, all of them harboring that eerie, indigo glow to their eyes that was seen before.
"Friend, friend, be Parca's friend, he can be trusted," the smaller Hollows all chant in repetition, each of them steadily getting closer to Jezebel, "friend, friend!!"
"There be so much we can do together, pal of mine!! Ya got so much spinning around in that Soul of yers!"
Parca slowly rises from his bow, the glow in his own eyes intensifying, which seems spur the Hollows circling Jezebel into a haphazard, and potentially unsettling dance.
"The worlds ain't ready, ain't r e a d y, for the fun us two are going to have," Parca, reaching out toward Jezebel again, his hand passing through the circle of Hollows around her, "and ya want to have fun pal, don't ya, don't ya?"
Thrums waved within her chest in violent motion. The sensation of her heart pounding. Uncontrolled rage stewing; permeating viciously within the confines of her soul. She loathed the fact he was so close. That he dared to cross that line with her. The zanpakutou within her grip; a whisper within its confines speaking to her to ease the tension roused by this situation.
Breathe...
Breathe...
She's letting her emotions climb unnecessarily. Becoming influenced by them. Clouding her thoughts.
His words do not welcome comfort. They beckon unease for the minimal damage she seemed to cause this strange hollow. Narrowed brows sharpen her gaze upon him. The zanpakutou within grip extending smoothly into the full length of its natural blade. Warm breath cast beyond lips, serenading the calm that would produce the best results.
This was bad. Orbs pivot the parameter of the hollows burrowing up from the sands. Their own a vibrant shade, dwarfing her in their looming shadows. Moving around her like a horrifying ritual of some sort. Blade repositioned to strand vertical just in front of her form with the slightest tilt towards her left. Her other hand rose, and across her palm the sharpened end would slice with disturbing ease, casting crimson across the sand in front of her. Flicking sanguine off across the ground where the hollows moved and letting them spread it in a circle on the border of where she stood.
His words became little more than background noise with digits squeezed tight; nails digging into the wound to coax as much free before it might begin clotting and closing.
There is no hesitation. No delay once his hand had come close enough, and the hollows around her had created too much of a barrier to move. Embers of orange-red drifted up with a faint lavender riatsu from the bloodied sand. A very sudden, and deliberate burst of tangled spires jutting up like gnarled, red roots. Crystalized as glass to capture, and pierce into the forms of the hollows, and try to, through their bodies, capture his arm before he could close the distance any further. Worse still were the grains that invaded into those hollows, splintering crimson glass throughout. Attempting to freeze joints, and invade whatever veins and arteries may exist in this amalgamation of fallen souls.
He may not be as affected by this move, but she was certain that these lesser hollows didn't stand a chance. At the very least she hoped it would stop his reach, and allow her to make her next move.
'You failed.'
The words rang in his ears and stung deeply—worse than the piercing his chest had received. Pain painted his features, creasing his brow deeply as his chin dipped and shoulders sagged. He listened in silence as her words continued. Yes... his 'gift' had come with strings... hadn't it?
And then her finger pressed to his lips, and he raised his head to regard her with haunted eyes. Her nature had been known to him from the beginning... funny how he'd never thought it would turn on him—but that was folly, of course. And perhaps he had hoped a bit too fondly that under his care she'd begin to heal, to become something other than she'd been, something that knew the quality of mercy.
"It seems I have created a monster," he murmured. His tone was neither judgmental nor dismissive, neither horrified nor scandalized, but oddly matter-of-fact and pensive. It would by no means be the first time, and he seemed unable to help himself, wasn't he?
It was perhaps a good thing that he loved monsters, even those that bit him...
"I'll be candid; I don't care for the word 'comply.' But if you were to ask me to accompany you, to teach you, to prepare you, Yatagerasu..." The faintest hint of a smile began to dance about his lips. "...you might find me surprisingly amenable."
She could have asked, couldn't she? He'd not so much withheld information as simply... omitted it. By now she'd learned quite a bit on her own.
"I could elaborate the history of Soul Society from the beginning of time," he went on, "but I don't wish to bore you. Perhaps the Socratic method would be best; we can start in the present and work backwards as necessary." He fixed her with an open, inviting gaze. "And you may ask me questions to which you need answers... but please, don't ask as my interrogator. Ask as my student. Or better yet—" And here, the subtle smile that had been threatening at last broke forth.
"—as my lover."
Lips thinned; tight to one another as she hovered him slightly from her sitting position. Her feet kept firm against his wrists to keep him complacent beneath her. A sigh following his remark. "Wrong." Mouth curl slightly back in mild annoyance, "I've always been a monster. You've simply provided the tools to achieve more as one." Toes bend at the top edges of his wrists as if that would somehow keep him pinned better. In truth, it does little more than increase contact between them. Merely another step to assert herself towards him; to establish that she was still in charge and he was at her mercy. That she would not allow him the luxury of believing otherwise - even if, deep down, she understood his capabilities to be far more than she was presently, openly acknowledging.
The origami dagger had found its way into her grip again as he spoke. Sharp tip pressed to the pad of a finger, and twisted slightly somehow seeming to never quite breach her skin despite the capabilities of doing so with disturbing ease. Listening. Given him the floor, as it were, so she might decide on her next move.
"It's far more entertaining to watch you squirm." She countered. Though her expression didn't quite share the feelings behind the words, her voice eluded to a subtle playfulness within them. Dressed in calm threat to his person while insinuating a more adventurous side the two had dipped their toes in before.
Damn this man. She could come at him with the intent to kill, and its moments like this, and many, many days having become close to him; sharing something so intensely intimate and raw with him, that allowed his words, and his presence to seep into the well hidden cracks. To fill her void with a sense of companionship. It made her vulnerable to him even if she loathed such things in these tense situations.
Jezebel was apt to siphon everything she could from this conversation. To gain a more established agreement with him in hopes of succeeding where she had continued to fall short, and avoid more unwelcome and unwanted obstacles in her path.
This bastard. Leaned in closer with the edge of the blade moving to hook into the upper seams of his sleeve. Precision movements aiming to free the threads from their position while avoiding cutting into the fabric itself. "Cheeky sod." She whispered, leaned in closer. Eyes close; a sense of vulnerability offered as she continued to open the fabric if he didn't fight her. "You'll want to hold still."
If he complied, the blade would suddenly go deeper within the space she had opened. The tip pushing just below the skin layer, and slicing up along the top of his deltoid muscle. A rush of heat moving from his arms and shoulders to pinpoint on that one location until crimson flecks would begin spilling out into the air. Flashing in tiny bursts like a chemical reaction until all of the sand that had been deposited within him, had been purged and dispelled.
"Do you think anyone is home right now?" Questioned Jezebel. The tiniest tug at the edges of her lips. Two origami koi; one black, and one white, would find their way into her palms. And like the prior - a breath to activate them, they would begin dancing around his form to mend the remaining wounds left upon him. Including the new cut in his shoulder.
Jim Yosef x RIELL - Animal Visualization
@uraharashouten
"That wasn't what I—"
His brow furrowed as his lips clamped shut. Apparently, even the mere jest that he'd like his mobility back was being received as a challenge. Ah, well. So that's what he was dealing with.
He made the mental note: he could make no assumptions here. No points he had invested could be counted in his favor. His eyes closed again and he let out a soft, despondent sigh, even as he found himself pushed down again to the mat. Would anything he said in his defense at this juncture be taken in good faith? Would any of it matter? ...and now his wrists were pinned. Part of him wanted to rage at the injustice, but he'd been there before and knew it was fruitless.
Part of him almost hoped for rescue— Tessai was somewhere nearby, wasn't he?
But then, something seemed... too facile about that. Too often, he'd escaped, unchallenged. The question unsettled him, and this time, perhaps he ought to allow it. The soul does grow most swiftly when in mortal peril, after all—
His eyes snapped open suddenly as she grabbed his jaw. His mouth moved, as if to protest, then shut. When he opened it again, he spoke calmly. "It sounds like you've already rejected what I'd offer as the truth. If you're bound to prejudge what I'll say, you might as well cut my tongue out while we're at it."
Oh dear... he'd best rein in that tongue of his lest she call his bluff. His face contorted in a grimace as his head shook. "I'm sorry— that wasn't very thoughtful of me. Let me start again. Everyone, including myself, is an experiment. We are all projects in progress. I can't possibly see that in a negative light. But having said that..." His gaze changed into something more pained as he looked up at her. "Deputizing you was, for so many reasons, a risk. Yet I couldn't, in the moment, come up with a more certain and expedient way to set you free."
His eyes locked with hers, his face sincere, his voice soft. "Have I failed you, Yatagerasu?"
It was an inevitable consequence of the multitude of bodies; of voices that had kept her on her toes throughout her time at the Shouten. Be it Grimmjow, or otherwise, she was the subject of scrutiny. The convenient thing to take pot shots at. She's leering over him. Seated on his torso. Restricting his movements further by doing so. Making a point to assert herself again, and again of the position she held over him in that moment.
"Is that what you want?" She's biting back. Snapping. Gnashing teeth like a wild animal towards him. He's only provoking the ire of the wild, chaotic entity thriving within the realms of her ribcage. A violent, and unpredictable monstrosity that he had given breath to. A heartbeat. A mind, and sense of freedom. And now, he's pinned beneath her. Seething and waiting for a reason to tear his face off. "Shall I cut it from your your mouth or the front of your neck?!"
Teeth bared in roused frustration a this continued remarks, "I have origami that can create pockets with surgical precision. Shall I test them out on you if that's going to be your immediate response? Defiance, and defense instead of a proper explanation?!"
That was better. An apology.. Maybe a truthful one. Though even now she's taking it with a grain of salt. Distrust seeded deep into the depths of everything she held near and dear about the companionship they shared. She wanted to spend her life by his side - but not as his pet project. Not as some convenient thing to study. It goes deeper than that, however.
Jezebel's small form shifted back a bit. Her gaze, though unable to perceive him like normal eyes would, was resting upon him. Looking through him somehow, like she were reading the depths of his soul. The patterns etched into the core of his creation. Collecting a data stream of information supplied by her loyal little origami crane. From a hardened, angered expression came a slightly softer one.
"You failed." Words a whisper. A reflection of the deep pain felt permeating throughout her being, "I wanted to believe you were saving me. But it's just another cage, Kisuke. Just because the bars aren't visible, doesn't negate that fact." All of this was exhausting. It wasn't like her to give in - so she won't but... She also wasn't use to dealing with someone she cared so deeply about.
"You owe me a proper education on things. Fullbringers. Shinigami. Quincy. Hollows. Everything. I don't care how long it may take. You gave me this power. You introduced me to a society that I'd never before been aware of. I am owed that much. And then when you've finished teaching me properly, you're going to go with me to Hueco Mundo, and we're going to continue training until I'm strong enough to kill my former Master in Reverse London.
"I have every right to that knowledge. How dare you think otherwise. Your negligence has done nothing but risk my safety and compromise the integrity of everything we've worked towards creating. This bond I thought we'd shared... Or was I so very clueless about that as well?"
She's not letting him speak yet. Her index finger moves to press towards his lips, "I've no patience for excuses. Do not underestimate what I'm willing to do to achieve my goals, and to ensure I see you follow through on your responsibilities, Kisuke. If you genuinely give even a hint of a damn about me, you'll comply."
She approached, and he considered his options. Whatever she'd done to invade his body this time had stolen the life from his arms, but he was far from optionless. It was a choice to restrain himself, to withhold further kidō, to leave his zanpakutō sealed... weakened and apparently defenseless as he was, there were any number of ways to turn the tables, but— not yet. Not yet. He waited until she'd make known her true intentions.
The wrong question? "Then what's the right one? I've already asked why—" Maddening, how some folks refused to speak plainly... he grimaced as he wheezed in self-derision, watching her hands as she brought something new to life. His eyes widened with recognition.
She meant to heal him?
He remained still, gazing with wonder at her work as it knit back together the mess they'd made during... what he wasn't certain was a pupil's challenge or a lover's quarrel. Soon, he was breathing more easily, despite being disarmed. He watched the ethereal koi circle his head, comically reflecting on whether he resembled an injured cartoon character, and then dissipate to whence they'd come. He supposed, at this point, that the most helpful thing he could do... would be simply to listen. Thus, he heard her out.
"Speaking of that, I'd like my shoulder tendons back as well, please," he said wistfully, still staring upwards at the space into which her healing praxis had vanished. He heaved a sigh—a long, deliciously deep breath, fully (and painlessly!) swelling his rib cage—and let out the breath slowly, settling back on his heels, still contemplating the ceiling.
"Perhaps... we ought to start over, from the beginning."
His eyes dropped closed, and he lowered his chin tiredly and humbly, a gesture of concession. "I realize how unlikely this will sound, coming from me, but... may we speak candidly?" In lieu of gesturing, he jerked his head to indicate offering Jezebel a seat. "—Please, repeat your questions... only this time, I request you do me the favor of telling me why you're asking. It's important, you see, because there are sometimes many correct answers—but only one of them will be helpful."
He had the audacity to ask for more after she healed the earlier injury? "I'm sorry, what was that?" She questioned sarcastically, "You'd like your arms rotted off? Tsk, Kisuke. Don't be in such a rush to be dismembered. That'll come later if you keep misbehaving."
There's something eerie in the way she says it. Playfully unsettling. Like she really could if given the opportunity. But Jezebel was vicious. She was unpredictable. Chaotic. The very core of her being was ever changing. Even her soul given its fractured state always reshaping and rebuilding, trying to forge itself back into some semblance of what it use to be.
Could she do it to him though? Cool. Unfeeling. Just like an assassin. Staring down at him through blind eyes. Never willing to let up on the idea that she was still in control of the situation, and Kisuke was wholly at her mercy - even if, deep down, she knew not to bask carelessly in such confidence.
Another step forward upon the end of his request, placing her foot to his chest to push him back onto the tatami mat. Did he expect her to just pull up a cushion and leisurely pop a squat? Have a chat? No, she's making sure to keep a very close eye on things with him. One foot to his side. The other to his other if he actually rested back, and down she went with one foot each moving to rest over his wrists to keep them pinned. Her rump positioned just atop his belly.
"No longer is it a question, but a demand. It's by your own bloody stupidity that we find ourselves in this situation. Had you just been honest with me about things." Caustic in every drop of emotion that seeped into those words. The frustration, and hurt she felt. The look of pain creeping into otherwise stoic gaze. She's so overwhelmed by a sense of absolute betrayal from this man.
"I trusted you." Arms left loose across her knees, but her fingernails are already biting sharply into her palms. "I escaped one Master and fall into the hands of another. Am I merely a project to you? Some bloody experiment for you to poke and prod until your curiosity is satisfied? All of your guests saw it.. I've no excuse for being so foolish. Another pet project of Urahara's. Come to save me from the Grimmjow? Just for show, ay? Can't have her discovering the truth."
But she's not done. Her volume is raising and she's leaning forward a bit with her hand snapped towards his jawline to grab for it. Hold it tight to keep his eyes on her, "Tell me why you deputized me. The true reason! Not this bloody nonsense about helping me, either! Was it for your own interests!? Were they right!? Am I only some... " waving her other hand sharply, "Science experiment?"
Crywolf - Untitled Christmas Song
@uraharashouten
Line So Thin - Done With Everything
"I think I am a verb instead of a personal pronoun. A verb is anything that signifies to be; to do; to suffer. I signify all three."
# burdenedreverence , an independent roleplay blog , non-selective & open , a study on obligation , burdens , war, and the complexity of man.
once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?
Acerbic Wit
You're a mentor — an old scarred wolf, an injured soldier, a disgraced paladin. Your teachings read as shamelessly pretentious, speaking in rhymes and biting down hard into anyone stupid enough to make the wrong move. This isn't your first life, nor your second, nor your sixth — you'll make the most of your time shackled to this world, no matter how many loops it takes to get it right. With every defeat, you reincarnate; a little smarter, a little quicker, crueler and nastier. Will you choose to be brutal, equalizing, that final strike in the face of your enemies? will you go soft, become tender and domesticated? The choice is yours. It's not like i can stop you.
Tagged by: @uraharashouten [ <3 thanks ]
Tagging: Whoever hasn't done it yet.
Threaten her home? Now that he'd managed to free himself, the thought came back to nag him through the red haze of pain and effort. He'd managed to roll to his side, doubling in agony to staunch the fresh hot crimson flow, then onto all fours on he ruined tatami, back heaving with ragged gasps. Had she taken him literally?— "Not your home!" He spat out, pushing himself up onto his knees, right hand clutching at the gaping wound in his torso. "You said 'to kill us'— I meant that ending your tenure in the Living World wouldn't—"
But he had no opportunity to finish the thought. The spell blew through him, mercilessly jerking his arms as his wrists crossed caught him completely off-guard. He could feel something give in them, a sickening pop at both his shoulders, as his eyes and mouth gaped in stunned reaction.
"That was kidō?—" He hadn't taught her that. When had she learned that?!
He forced his concentration to his breathing. He'd nearly winded himself tearing the barbed tip of her cane free from his chest, and now his arms were white-hot static, pinned uselessly behind his back.
"Oh my, I can see you've grown dangerous with your words." His tone was suddenly eerily light, having taken on an uncannily playful lilt, and a dark grin stretched his jaw. "Some day, those will get you in trouble~"
He paused to catch his breath. When he spoke again, his demeanor had become far more serious. "Jezebel... I've been careful thus far not to lay a scratch on you, but my forbearance hasn't been returned in kind, has it?" His head bowed with exertion, but he lifted his shrouded gaze to seek her face, blind as she was now to the world, to his suffering, to all that lay between them, to common sense. "So I must ask: How far do you intend to take this? If it's my intent to escape your torture... then to prevent further attempts—would you be prepared to kill me?"
She had allowed herself to remain bound for the sake of her last move. The chains serving to pin her arms to her sides. Slow breaths still accompanying each beat of her heart to maintain an external calm.
It worked. Better than she anticipated. With his shoulders little more than flimsy weights to his body, she felt she had achieved something she had never thought possible. The Mentor subjected to the student's growth. Skills coming to fruition before him, executed with practiced precision. Just as that sudden, sharp rise of her reiatsu would rapidly fracture and dissolve his kidou, leaving her to stand not far from where he sat on his knees.
She was wordless as she regarded him. Lips painted in moisture; glistening behind the slow motion of her tongue. Contemplating her next move. Considering her position, and the logic behind each step from here forward.
One foot would press into the tatami mat. Then the next. Slow like silk being blown in a gentle breeze. Light, and unheard. The shift of its surface under her weight was nearly completely absent. It would be beyond his arms reach that she would stop, and slowly crouch in front of him. Her arms hung lazily across her knees.
"An assassin is always prepared to kill. But I think you're asking the wrong questions, Kisuke." Digits slip into the folds of her attire to withdraw a set of origami. One black, and one white, resting them within her palm behind curled fingers. With a gentle breath, swirls of embers seem to dance along her palm, restructuring the paper creatures into what appeared to be actual koi; one black, and one white, gracefully dancing around each other.
They move towards Kisuke, extending a gentle, green glow around their paths. Moving first near his shoulders, but quickly ignoring the injuries there to focus on the more dire one; the hole in his chest. If he didn't try to flee them, or frighten them off, or use something to prevent them from acting according to her will, he would swiftly begin to realize their purpose.
They were healing him.
Yin and yang. Perfect balance. Rebuilding, and replenishing. Recreating. Nurturing in their gentlest auras. They swim around him like playful lovers in constant harmony until the wound in his heart had been repaired, and the hole in his chest and back, closed enough to keep him well enough alive. Blood loss was still lost, however.
As they completed their task, they would swim up around him with that same gentle, greenish hue trailing behind them. Faster and faster until the two collided, shattering into light fragments. Scattering, until they vanished completely.
"Too many lies. Information withheld. Too much unspoken. I have heard so many truths from you, and others. From my own memories.. Things I can't fathom. Nothing makes sense anymore.
"This seems to be the only way to get a straight answer. And even then it seems you've contented yourself with veiled remarks and misleading statements. If you continue to play at your games, Kisuke... I will do more than snap your shoulder tendons."
