A New Start: Ambassadors of our Species! Part 1
AKA: Moving on and Coping; The Story of Two Endangered Bears
((wow I hope the formatting stays this time ;w; I figured it would be easier to read if I submitted it, but since this is really self-indulgent Shinigami-related series, I don’t expect you to publish it. Rui and more light-hearted shenanigans to come!!))
Aizen’s fall is as much a terrifying event as it is a relief. The tyrant is gone; the Arrancar are free. Criessa breathe her first independent breath of his new life - and it’s full of sand, blood, and the chilling, aching fear that everyone she had come to love had died in battle.
She didn’t hold A Warrior’s Death in very high regard if it took her loved ones from her.
Her position from one of the many towers had shielded her from the main battles. She hadn’t had to skirmish very much; fortunate for her, because she was probably one of the strongest ones left alive, and if she had to fight it might draw in more curious Soul Reapers. The silence in Las Noches was deafening after all the commotion of a war; Criessa’s steps, the shifting of her tattered skirt against the marble floor, the inhale of her breath, all seemed too loud.
She couldn’t feel anyone. Grimmjow had been in rough shape last time she saw him, and frankly, she owed Ichigo Kurosaki several Big Favors. He’d saved Grimmjow, saved them all, really. Her thoughts turned to Dordoni, her mentor, her friend, and she gritted her teeth to fight tears. Where could she go? What was left for her?
Green eyes looked out over the battlefields, as the sands were already shifting any evidence away. Survivors would start appearing soon. She felt some pressures blinking back from obscurity already. And if all the Espada really WERE dead, she shook her head vigorously, curled her toes, and straightened her shoulders.
“If they’re dead,” She started down a hallway that felt empty,” if Aizen is dead,” A quick trip to her own room, to retrieve the few things she really treasured, “Everyone else is about to start pecking out the new hierarchy.” She stuffed a few gifts, some received, some carefully chosen, never given to friends she now suspected to be dead. “And I don’t intend to be in that census.”
As quietly as her heavy feet could carry her, Criessa Monserra disappeared into the sands of Hueco Mundo, to bide her time and find a place to shield her back until she could make a better plan.
Ripping a Garganta into the Soul Society felt more blurry, more fantastical, than opening into the Human World.
Criessa had been jumping between Hueco Mundo and the Human World longer than she could remember anymore, forcing herself into a place that fundamentally rejected her. But entering the world of the Soul Reapers’ felt like opening the veil into her own home. Of course, the boombox on her shoulder and her carefully planned entrance certainly helped her confidence.
If Dordoni had taught her anything it was the importance of first impressions. She’d done her research. She’d picked her intro music carefully. The Arrancar took a deep breath and grinned. It had been too long since she’d done something this thrilling.
Her chest felt fluttery, her cheeks burned from how hard she was smiling as she slammed the play button; heavy metal drum music filled the vacuum between dimensions, and the daylight of the Soul Society streamed over her chest.
“Life’s too long to take seriously.”
For the first time in a long time, Criessa released her hold on her spiritual pressure and let it pour out of the garganta. She propped a foot on the edge of space-time, smiling down at hundreds of Soul Reapers of the Court Guard Squad. From the corner of her eyes, Captains were already piling up. She laughed, paused her music, and jumped down.
The crowd of younger Reapers flinched.
“I am Criessa Monserra, recently freed Arrancar.” She held up her hands, palms out, and turned to search for familiar eyes. She found one of the Reapers who came to Hueco Mundo with Ichigo all those months ago. Her smile turned fonder. “I’ve come to join your side.”
Gasps, muttering, swords un-sheathing. Criessa rolled her eyes. “C’mon guys, give a girl a chance.” She pouted.
A particular silence fell over the folks from her left. The kind of quiet of an approaching threat. She eased around to face the shock and awe. Oh, yes. “Shunsui Kyoraku. Just the man I’m looking for. It’s nice to meet you.” She stepped forward and every blade in the Soul Society, save Kyoraku’s, was aimed at her throat. They all paused a respectable distance away -more than she would have gotten from other Arrancar.
So she froze, arm reaching for a handshake. She met his eyes -kind of warm and worn, a nice brown- with another sheepish smile, and shrugged.
He stared at her for a moment, looked her over, noted at her sword, and considered -but did eventually step forward. An old man and a young woman followed closely.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss… Monserra, did you say?” He shook her hand, gentle and gentlemanly.
“Yes sir. Please call me Criessa though. I’ve never been big on formalities.”
“Criessa.” He smiled. “Excuse me for rushing introductions with a pretty lady-” Criessa raised an eyebrow at him and straightened her shoulders “-but what did you say about ‘Our Side’ earlier?”
She nodded and looked around to the crowd. Faces of concern, lieutenants on guard. One bald man is giving her a particularly nasty look. She looks back to the Head-Captain, and lowers her voice below the ears of the crowd. The easy smile slips from her face.
“Quincys have taken over Hueco Mundo in Aizen’s absence. Many of the surviving Arrancar have been conscripted into their forces -not all willingly. I don’t intend to be cowed by the losing side. I will not be treated like an animal. So I have come to offer myself to your Society, as an equal.” She stared at him, as commanding as she knew how to be. “Surely you won’t miss the opportunity to have me, and the few allies I have left alive, in your ranks. Arrancar are an endangered species; our powers shouldn’t be lost under another spineless, pointless leader.”
At his sides, the lieutenants bristle. The young woman touches Kyoraku’s sleeve and steps forward. “How do you know your information can be trusted?”
Criessa lifts her jaw to glare down her nose. This time she speaks loud enough to be heard. “When I was shoved through the Hogyoku, I was made into a creature who could obtain whatever I wanted most.” She stepped away from Kyoraku and addressed the crowd assembled before her. This was her only chance.
“Not all Arrancar want power. No more than some of you do. We work for the things we want most. We achieve them; we’re driven creatures. Some of us do want Rank, want Power, want Authority, but many want Company, want Peace and Safety, want Life, Knowledge, Legacy, Purpose. We were made to be capable of Reason again. We have learned to love, to laugh, to mourn and cry.” She met the eyes of Rukia Kuchiki, who she recalled fighting Aaroniero. Her eyes softened towards the young lady. “Some of us are monsters; we have little mercy, no ceremony, and aren’t above fighting dirty. I’m sorry for what Aaroniero did to you, and I owe your friend a great debt.” She smiled and turned back to Kyoraku.
“Head-Captain. I was born into this life without a purpose, created by a man who would have gladly sacrificed me. My friends are dead -killed by your Soul Reapers- in a war that wasn’t ours to fight. My friends are dead or enslaved. If I am to keep living -and I promise you I will- I would like to choose for myself who deserves my loyalty. I’m not here for Power. I HAVE power. I want a future.”
