♛ —;; The hair at the back of Grimmjow's neck has been stiff ever since waking up here; he's got nothing in him, a great empty void matching to that of his namesake. He can't even take to the skies, forced to the ground with too many bodies that can see him. Can't even sense how strong they are, if at all-- like every single one of his senses has been neutered.
And cornered, angry beasts don't make for the most polite of greetings. Never mind whether or not Grimmjow had ever been one to give them in the first place.
The moment he catches sight of familiar, bright hair, his steps become determined, hurried as he barks out to a figure that he at least knows.
"Oi! Woman!"
The grip to her shoulder-- Orihime, he knows, but doesn't bother-- is rough. Despite having worked together, no matter how briefly, that doesn't stop him from being who he is.
"Fix whatever the hell they've done ta' me," he scowls. "Now."
@heavenshield
