“HEY! YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH, YA TWERP?! STOP YER DAMN CURSING, IDIOT! AND KEEP IT DOWN!”
⎡ @screwdflcwer ⫿ unscripted ⫿ accepting ⎦
Ichigo jerks sideways, barely missing that splatter. For one horrible second, he’s caught between blocking with Zangetsu’s flat, and the deeply instinctive need to keep whatever the hell that shit is as far away from himself, and anything he’s touching, as possible.
The glob splatters against the concrete with a thick, wet slap. Then immediately starts bubbling and eating through it.
He makes a face. It smells as bad as it looks.
Ichigo stabs his sword toward the next tick Hollow climbing up the building wall.
“What the fuck is that!? You’re sick! Exploding asses? Who’s bright idea was it to give a Hollow an exploding ass and then fill it with juice!?” He inches back as its rear half starts to shake and swell. “No. What?? What the hell?? Why? I didn’t even come at you!”
How many of these damn things were there? He can’t even get close. Instead he’s stuck provoking them, then playing dodge-ass when they pop like nasty little liquid-filled balloons.
That yell pierces the night.
Ichigo freezes, head snapping upward as a long staff comes into sight, blade carving neatly through the next Hollow’s thorax before it can so much as clench.
The words earn a slight, reflexive flinch before confusion takes over.
He’s the one being loud??
Just who the hell is this guy?
Swooping in. Taking over his fight. What the hell!? Bad. Bad etiquette.
“Uh— hey.” Ichigo lifts a hand, frowning. “No. No thanks. I’ve got this. I don’t need any help.”
Weird. He never thought he’d complain about one of the local rookies coming in and actually doing their job.
But why didn’t they ever tell anyone stationed here about him? At least this guy looks like he knows what he’s doing. Better than the last batch. Still. He just interrupted what was shaping up to be a really satisfying finishing blow from as far away as possible.
This guy’s trident weapon has decent reach... It should let him get some distance from that mess when he pokes them. And if he’s volunteering—Ichigo’s not about to turn down an overeager coworker wandering into his worst shift ever.
At least these Shinigami get paid to deal with this shit.
He points over the guy’s shoulder.
“Think there’s another one behind you somewhere. Might wanna hurry. Looked like it was laying eggs or something.”
Ichigo starts edging backward with all the courage of a man absolutely prepared to clock out early.
He gives the newbie a thumbs up and his most—hopefully—reassuring smile.
