an innocent looking little letter for the fracción.
{ ❛ ah, I see it in you—the weight of your loyalty, the quiet endurance. It is a familiar thing. I once had one such as you, steadfast even when I had little left to offer but my ruin. He stood at my side as the walls crumbled, as the curse took hold, and still he would not waver. I have often thought that such loyalty is a debt to be repaid in kind, that it is not the master who deserves the servant, but the servant who defines the master’s worth.
and yet, your master... he does not match you. I have watched, and I know. You serve well, more than well, and I wonder ⸻ has it ever crossed your mind that you deserve better? Ah, but no, of course not. A man like you does not think that way. You have set your course, and you will see it through, no matter how thankless. It is almost admirable. Almost foolish.
but should the thought ever slip through, should you ever wonder what it might be like to be matched in kind ⸻ to serve and be served, to be met with something more than expectation and silence ⸻ know that there is always a place here for you. I have room for those of worth, for those who understand what it is to give without demand, and to receive without needing to ask.
But for now, I will leave you to your chosen burden. It suits you, after all. Perhaps too well. Be careful, lest it break your back before you ever think to shrug it off. ❜ }
Anonymous letter is received with slight surprise; no one wrote to him, much less to the Fifth's palace in Las Noches. It had to have been hand delivered, then, he notes, gloved fingers tearing open the envelope, and unfolding the note.
Remaining eye reads the letter, narrowing as it goes on. At first, it's flattering, the sort of praise Tesla generally hears, for his devotion and hard work. Sender seems to relate to his liege's position, having had someone like Tesla by their side at one point. He wonders what happened to them. The anonymity means it likely isn't his business.
His Master's worth... the Sender seems to spit upon it, look down upon his Espada and deem him unworthy of someone like Tesla in his orbit.
This is an insult to Tesla, as well. An insult to his choices, to his belief in his Lord.
The sender couldn't understand what Tesla saw in Nnoitra. If he was honest, no one could, not even Nnoitra himself. It was, perhaps, now that he thought about it...lonely.
His chosen role wasn't thankless, per say. Verbally, perhaps...but he didn't serve his Master for praise.
Offer to take him in while insulting his current boss only stokes his irritation further.
To serve and be served... he didn't feel deserving of that. Didn't feel it was his place. He was useful when he was doing things for others, not just his liege. He gets uncomfortable when he feels he is not being useful.
A soft tsk between his teeth, and he puts the letter on the nightstand by his bed, before marching out of his room.
He doesn't have time to be pissed off over this note; he has work to do.