despairforme

[despairforme]

[despairforme]

Nnoitra vs Bazz B fight screenshot 8))))

[despairforme]

CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HIS TYBW FIGHT !!!!!!!!

[despairforme]

[ UPDATE! We sold our house! We have to be out of the house by 2/5, which is not a lot of time to move. >-< I'm going to be super busy - so my writing goals go out the window fjfjfjfj - thank you for your patience guys! Hope you're all doing good! <5 ]

[despairforme]

Ah, yeah - DISHONOUR. A word he knew all too well. He was considered a disgrace to the Gilga family name. A word he didn't know all that much about was self-control. Probably why he kept disgracing his family. Nnoitra had never been good at controlling his impulses. He wasn't the kind to consider consequences before acting. Come hell or high water, he was going to do whatever he wanted in the moment.

The name Malfoy was familiar to him. Despite being shit with names, he knew this one. An old family. Pure-blood, like him. There weren't many families like that left, and was bound to be some overlap between their families if you looked at the family tree. The two of them didn't LOOK much like each other. Both pale, yes, but that platinum blonde hair of the other could not be further away from Nnoitra's raven locks.

❝ Ya should just give in 'ta your impulses. ❞ Nnoitra suggested - or maybe he was even giving advice. ❝ How much dishonour can that possibly bring? ❞ And - who cares about that anyway? Nnoitra had never understood the concept of family honour, or why the hell his family even thought they possessed any. What had they done that was so honorable? Or did that just come with being an old, pure-blood family? At least this Malfoy guy seemed to be born for the role. Unlike Nnoitra, who was such a goddamn misfit. He should not have been born at all. Okay, that got a little too dark, even for him.

He finished wiping his knuckles. A bit of blood remained in the cracks of old scars, proving that this was not the first ( or the last ) time he'd punched something. Or someone. He wondered if Malfoy had ever given in to what he called "murder impulses", or if he was all talk. In Nnoitra's experience, most people were all mouth. And, if they did resort to violence on occasion, it was always through magic. Nnoitra preferred physical violence. It was rawer. More honest. And far - far more satisfying. Perhaps if he'd actually been GOOD with spells, he would've enjoyed casting curses at his opponents. For now, there was nothing more satisfying to him than making others bleed, using his bare hands.

@despairforme continue from here

It was easier to get away with good old classic violence, rather than trying to throw spells or curses at fellow students. This was something Nnoitra had taken note of ages ago - and it worked to his advantage, since he wasn't very good with spells to begin with. Did his violent tendencies mean he was cut off from the rest of his House? Yeah, pretty much.

There was blood on Nnoitra's knuckles. Some little punk ass underclassman had tried their fucking luck and Nnoitra had shown what happens when you fuck with him. The kid had run off with a nosebleed, so he'd gotten off easy. Nnoitra hadn't thought there were any witnesses ( not that he cared ). Clearly, he'd been watched by someone.

A blonde dude Nnoitra had never spoken to - definitely from a different house than himself. He spoke in a lazy, somewhat condescending tone, but it didn't sound like said spite was directed at him. If anything, he just sounded pleased about what Nnoitra had just done. Nnoitra had expected a "how could you do that"-sort of speech, like he always fucking got from his fellow Gryffindors.

❝ So, ya' sayin' ya get it, huh? ❞ Nnoitra wiped his knuckles off on his uniform, the black fabric instantly masking the red. He looked over at the other student, curiously. It was really fucking nice to get something OTHER than a lecture. To Nnoitra, it sounded like he was saying; we might get along.

His  main  language  always  has  been  violence.  Purest,  gentleness  violence  he  could  use  with  his  own  fits  ---  when  there  was  always  something  easy,  totally  escaping  to  been  able  to  hurt  someone  with  some  kind  of  spells  …  It  was  unfunny,  sometimes  boring,  horribly  predictable  by  moments.  Nevertheless,  they  were  living  in  middle  of  society  down  there,  especially  a  famous  magical  school  such  as  Hogwarts  that  will  not  take  in  a  good  manner  to  perceiving  one  of  most  imminent  students  on  it  creating  trouble!  Though,  how  he  was  managing  to  survive  without  destroying  everything  was  something  himself  was  surprised  of!  Oh,  there  was  indeed  the  excuse  of  self-control,  of  the  awareness  his  magnificent  and  well-crafted  horrible  reputation  would  take  another  level,  though,  from  his  own  gaze,  he  would  be  remaining  in  character  concerning  what  was  expected  coming  from  Alois  Trancy.  If  he  considered  himself  violent,  he  would  actually  laugh  concerning  how  much  he  moderating  himself  compared  to  the  violence  speaking  volume  coming  from  his  metaphoric  twin:  yes,  he  might  crave  sometimes  some  pull  of  blood,  yes,  maybe  he  was  been  tempted  to  redecorate  the  walls  with  blood,  but  it  remained  kind  compared  to  the  cruellest,  bloodiest  hobbies  of  his  metaphoric  twin  who  learned  perfectly  how  to  be  a  perfected  asshole.  Eventually,  he  would  gain  some  tiny  joy  concerning  that  point.  One  tiny  gentleness  thing  of  receiving  pleasure  on  that  matter  with  some  big  villain  since  he  was  already  self-controlling  himself  not  to  accidentally  killing  Potter,  because,  oh,  old  habits  never  get  lost,  especially  not  the  way  the  wonderful  Potter  should  be  treated!

Hence,  when  he  showed  up  in  middle  of  something  he  shouldn’t  have  witnessed  in  the  first  place,  there  has  been  an  inner  mockery  who  automatically  resonated  inside  his  features.  Breaking  the  nose  of  something  was  one  of  nicest  things  of  violence.  Ah,  he  was  supposed  to  do  far  worse,  in  a  threatening  degree  in  which  mere  sight  of  his  presence  would  evocating  screaming  and  begging,  among  other  things  he  would  have  to  reflect,  if  he  wanted  correctly  getting  that  witch  he  was  grabbing.  Yeah,  it’s  first  impression  has  been  such  thoughts,  before  wondering  what  kind  of  context  happened.  Not  that  it  was  actually  important  since  an  Slytherin  doesn’t  need  much  a  reason  for  turning  a  Gryffindor’s  existence  hell,  when  his  personal  reasons  with  Potter  were  prettier  than  anything  that  could  be  considered  on  the  party.  Afterwards  a  little  smile  towards  that  sentence,  as  that  kind  of  communication  was  something  he  would  need  to  understand  the  underneath  anyway  (  he  would  have  always  had  one  man  in  mind  ),  he  nodded,  and  he  needed  to  expressing  something  else.  ❝  Self-control  is  actually  complicated  for  not  dishonouring  too  much  in  one  second  the  well-mannered  figures  represented  by  the  Malfoy~  It’s  such  a  shaaaaaaame  when  you  had  murder  impulses~  ❞  Potter  receiving  crystallization  of  such  feelings,  in  which latent  impression  he  was  acting  like  an  nightmare  memory  he was  supposed  to  be.

[despairforme]

Question for the mun: What's your thought on the relationship between Nnoitra and Nell? Do you hate when people ship them, considering it can be viewed as toxic in a valid way, or are you impartial to it? I'm asking cause I am looking for an active Nnoitra for my Nell and I wanna explore all the facets of their connection, including the fact that maybe they didn't always hate each other (aka not only write them going at each other's throats and insulting each other's ancestry to hell and back).

[ oH !! ( thank you for specifying that it's for me, otherwise Nnoitra for sure would've answered, I tend to let him answer all the asks we get. xD )

It's an interesting question! Because over the years, my view on them has changed quite a bit. I used to absolutely hate Nelliel, but now I actually appreciate her as a character, and find her interesting and complex. It's really fun to be able to see a character differently than you used to ( at least for me ). Because of my dislike for Nelliel, I also used to REALLY dislike the ship ( to the point where I even blacklisted the tag... ) - but now I don't mind seeing them together.

I personally don't mind toxic ships. I enjoy writing them and think it can be a very interesting dynamic to explore. With a character like Nnoitra... It's pretty difficult to get a "wholesome" ship that doesn't have any toxic attributes anyway, due to how Nnoitra is as a person.

Nnoitra and Nelliel's relationship ( this is just my opinion! ) - is complicated. I can only speak from Nnoitra's side of it, since I don't write Nelliel. Nelliel basically just treats him in the worst kind of way, which is where his hatred for her stems from. From what canon tells us, she literally follows him around to "protect" him, which makes him feel weak, and like she pities him, which is the ONE THING Nnoitra can't handle. To the point where he tries to kill himself ( canon ), but Nelliel saves him, making everything even worse. His inability to deal with her is clear from the fact that Nnoitra seeks help in order to get rid of her ( Szayel ). I can only imagine how low Nnoitra must've felt in order to go to someone he considers beneath him, and ask for assistance. That's just how desperate he is to get rid of her.

So yeah, Nnoitra really hates her in canon.

But - it didn't have to be this way. Their dynamic depends on their communication. I can't speak for Nelliel's motivation in the way she treats him ( different Nelliel writers I've written with over the years have had different takes on this, naturally ). Is she simply unaware of how she makes him feel? Or, does she do it on purpose in a villain-sort-of-way, or maybe she just doesn't care about his feelings one way or the other?

It would take very little for their relationship to change, if Nelliel just changed her approach to him slightly. Hearing that she respects him as a warrior would mean everything to him.

So, did Nnoitra always hate her? If she always treated him the same way, then yes, and as long as she keeps treating him like she does in canon - he will continue to hate her.

This is just my take on it though, and what's relevant for the way I portray Nnoitra. I'd absolutely love to write with your Nelliel and explore their dynamic! There are, as far as I know, two (?) other Nnoitra writers around, and they are really good, so you have plenty of options! uvu// But again, I'd love to explore! Thank you for taking the time to send me this and for your interest! ]

[despairforme]

HAPPY APRIL! ( writing goals & march summary! )

[ OH WELL--- March was ( somehow ) a little better than February when it comes to wordcount, but I only wrote 4K ; u ; // Tbh I'm not surprised. I've been super busy, and my creative spoons have been low ( I've been prioritizing drawing ). Still! I really enjoyed March because so much is happening in my life. uvu7

FOR APRIL - I'm really not sure how busy I'll be. Depends on how the project of selling our house turns out ( still no buyers rip ). Also it's spring !!!!! Which means going out more, socializing, helping out at my parents' farm, getting my boat ready for summer, gardening... OH AND !! The volleyball easter cup is coming up, so gotta train for that ( living my best haikyuu life ).

I REALLY MISS WRITING THOUGH!! Usually writing is such a big part of my life so when I'm writing as little as I have been these months.... Yeah, something is missing!!

I WILL DO A MODEST WRITING GOAL OF 10 000 WORDS ( for Nnoitra ) . In April last year I wrote 11K in total, and 7 of them were for Nnoitra, so this is a realistic goal, but also I need to focus to complete it, since it's a big step-up from my sad 4K that I wrote in March.

Thank you for your patience with me while I try to get back into the flow of being more regularly online and to write more often! Wish you all a lovely April, happy writing! :D ]

[despairforme]

The weather was good. He noticed it as soon as he stepped out of the apartment building. Of course it wasn't warm - why would it be at this time of the year -, but there was no cloud cover. Tenting would've been far less tempting if it had been raining. Not that Nnoitra would've pussied out just because of that.

Another message buzzed in. Oh, nice. It was the location of their meet-up. The preview showed it to be a camping site. Nnoitra had literally never gone camping, but he was pretty sure you had to book something like that in advance. Maybe it wasn't the case during this time of the year? It did say that it was "closed". He wondered if he should point that out, but only a moment later, he got another message, reassuring him that it was all good. Actually, this new message was a bit of a brag.

Was this guy rich or something? If his family owned a whole ass camping site? Which they'd bought recently? So it wasn't just a generational hand-me-down kinda thing.

Nnoitra did like it if the guy was rich. Rich guys could sleep with whoever they wanted, and the guy was still keen on him? That was a confidence boost for sure.

He received two more messages. If Nathan had asked him in person whether he was a top or a bottom, Nnoitra would've been so fucking offended. He'd rather fucking die than give off bottom energy. But, that kinda thing was impossible to determine through texts alone, so he'd let it slide. It was just common for gay dating culture ( ew ) to ask about this anyway ( even though Nnoitra himself never asked, because he would always top, no matter what ).

message to; Nathan:

「 top ofc 」

「 c u soon rich ass cowboy 」

That final message was supposed to be in a joking tone, but he didn't know if it came across. Whatever. Time to buy the whiskey, and then he'd --- Yeah, he'd have to order a cab. No way he could WALK to this camp-site. It was too far. Man, this was one of those rare occasions he wished he'd had a licence. Or at least a bike.

He walked into the liquor store, and wasted no time asking the store-owner for his most expensive bottle of whiskey. When the price tag gave him a fucking heart-attack ( and, mind you, Nnoitra wasn't some cheap ass bitch ), he had to rethink his plan. Luckily the store-owner quickly understood, and presented Nnoitra with a good brand, but not so expensive he'd go without food for the next month to pay for it.

With the bottle secured, he could grab a cab. It was bit of a drive to the camp site, so he assumed Nathan would arrive there much earlier than himself. Mah, unless the guy was the type to dress up for a "date" or whatever. Nnoitra didn't do that. He was wearing just black as usual. A t-shirt and a hoodie. He'd showered, of course, like he did every morning. That was about it. He had to admit - he was looking forward to this.

Tent.

The answer lit up quickly on the screen Nathan hadn't even bothered to close this time around. Funnily enough he had ... lingered in the text messages, something he rarely did unless there was something worth clutching onto. Here, a promise of a good time in a tent. When was the last time he had done something like that? His late teens? All he could recall was an interrupted session of making out as a spider had made its way into said tent, causing havoc as it'd run for its life. Youth, good times.

Adulthood, better times.

Map would then be opened on the phone, pinging a location in the next message to Nnoitra. It showed a camping site on its preview, but holding the status of closed.

message: i'll hang around here, look for a pick-up and a dashing cowboy ofc ;) message: it says its closed but it's because we bought the land not long ago, belongs to the family

Was that ... a brag? Maybe, just a little bit. They did own a lot of land, and what better way to reassure someone that their camping out wouldn't be disturbed by strangers passing by. After all, who'd want to see the moon when they were looking for birds? Very few, and while Nathan yearned to make another light joke in regards to the land they owed, there'd be a quick turn away from his post at the tree as he'd begin heading back to this four wheeler, eyes falling to the clock before asking one final question.

message: btw, top or bottom?

He let the message linger for a little while as he'd get back onto his vehicle, one last text sent before heading off for a shower and tent back at the stead.

message: i'm fine with either ;)

[despairforme]

Being alive sucks but his existence is worse for other people so --- that's a win?

[despairforme]

@braveryhearted said: 💖

Let me yap about blogs I like! | Accepting!

@despairforme !! I'm pretty sure I followed this blog wayyyy back when I still rped Tenya and I'm surprised that we're still mutuals!! Like??? That's crazy to me! I'm pretty sure I knew nothing about Bleach at the time (I kinda do now! I'm barely halfway done with Season 1, though.) but I remember liking Nnoitra's vibe! You can really see Toby's love for this fella with the bunch of aus he has and the headcanons you have for him. I don't know anything about him beyond what's in their blog but their content is slowly convincing me to catch up on Bleach.

The art is really really good too! I hope they get more clients once they open up commissions again <3 They seem like a really chill mun who just loves a guy! I don't think I'm in a spot to write anything for Bleach rpers but I'd love to recommend this blog if anyone from there wants to have a good time :]

[despairforme]

Fuck .

[despairforme]

FUCK HIS LIFE. He'd gone and fucking done it now, huh? Shit. Honestly it had just been a matter of time. If anything, it was fucking shocking that this hadn't happened sooner.

So, what was it that had happened? Well - he'd been arrested. Some pussy ass bitch he'd beat the shit out of had actually pressed assault charges against him. Can you fucking believe that shit? Nnoitra got angry just thinking about it. Considering HE, himself, would never do something as cowardly as involve the police in a personal dispute. He knew he should consider himself lucky for not being in fucking prison right now.

Then again...

This place was one of the last places he wanted to be. The judge had ( god knows why ) gone easy on him. Maybe because he didn't have a prior criminal record ( even though he should've been sent to prison ages ago ). Whatever the reason, he'd been sentenced to community service, on condition that he also attended anger management classes, and group therapy. He was wondering if just jumping off a bridge would be less painful than this shit.

This was it, huh? He'd been told the room number. 12. The sign on the door said 12. He looked at it with a blank stare, like he was about to head into war or something. The door was already half-way open, and when he looked inside, he could see that it was beginning to fill up with people. Uncomfortable chairs were placed in a circle, as if preparing for some kinda ritual.

He walked in. People looked at him, like they always did. Tall and skinny as he was - with his large eyepatch. He drew attention. He couldn't help but think that he was exactly the sort of person who you'd think would assault someone and land in trouble for it. Stereotypes were a thing for a reason.

He sat down, looking awkward in the chair because of how tall he was. The seats were beginning to fill up. Nobody sat down next to him, until there were no other seats available. Nnoitra looked around the room, and noted the different kinds of people. He'd thought there would be mostly guys, but honestly there was a good mix of both. Maybe women were just more likely to agree to therapy. One chick kinda stood out to him. She was tiny and blonde and had a bandaged hand. It didn't look like she belonged.

The session would start. The therapist ( Nnoitra assumed ), began by greeting everyone, and saying she was glad so many had showed up.

"We have two new faces here today. Would you like to introduce yourselves? Maybe we can start with you, tall fellow." She said, gesturing towards Nnoitra. He arched a brow. He was not socially awkward or shy, but this was a new situation for him to be in, so he did hesitate - if only for a moment. He wondered if he should stand or just remain seated.

❝ Sure. I'm Nnoitra. ❞ He said.

"It's nice of you to join us, Nnoitra." said the therapist. He had to commend her for making it sound genuine. Like she was actually glad he was here. "Do you want to tell us why you're here?"

No, not really. He figured the less cooperative he was, the worse this would get.

❝ I beat the shit 'outta some guy, 'n now the cops think I need 'ta be here. 'Daz it. ❞ No need to sugar coat it or lie.

The next person who would introduce themselves was actually the chick Nnoitra had noted for not fitting in. The small blonde one.

Everything that the too thin blonde had gone through in her short life had brought her so much anger. Her emotions were volatile, and she had a penchant for getting her into trouble at this point. Kaisa was always more on the aggressive side, even before her seemingly good life was torn from her she had a habit of punching walls or getting into fights when she was more or less in need of blowing off steam. Nowadays, her anger took on a different approach. It wasn’t as self-directed as it once been. Instead, she was much more likely to find someone to hit.

She felt as though she had acted accordingly when she assaulted someone who was harassing another girl who couldn’t have been much older than her. Unfortunately, she went too far and ended up landing him in the hospital. She had been angry to begin with that day and went out, looking for someone to hurt. The man pressed charges even though she thought she had every right to do what she did. It was her first offense as an adult, and so, she’d been sentenced to anger management classes and group therapy to attempt to quell her anger.

Forest green eyes were dark as she walked into the group therapy room for the first time. He had her long blonde curls in a low ponytail, and her left hand was bandaged, like she punched a wall recently. She was slight, didn’t seem like she could hold her own in a fight with how petite she looked. With the cooling weather she wore and green and black plaid flannel shirt over a black tee and dark gray jeans. The girl really didn’t look much like someone who would likely be seen in a mandatory anger management group.

Kaisa’s jaw was tense as she took a seat in the circle and slouched in the chair, crossing her lean arms over her chest. She could feel eyes on her from a couple of others in the group and glared at them. Kaisa didn’t want to be there, and if she truly had a choice, she wouldn’t have been. It was only due to the prodding of her friends and legalities that made her go.

There was one person in the room who caught her eye. She noted his lean frame and height, along with his long black hair. Before she suspected he would catch her staring, Kaisa looked away, impatiently tapping her fingers on her arm. She was new there and wasn't sure if there were others there for the first time or not. She suspected she wasn’t the only one who was required to be there, but it didn’t make it any better in her opinion. Group would start soon, and she didn’t feel like she’d want to engage in whatever discussion would ensue. She mentally prepared to either check out or watch each member of the group while they spoke.

@despairforme

[despairforme]

@desgarron ,, continued .

It had just been a joke. Nnoitra rarely joked, just because his mood was always too fucking shitty for humour. Which meant that right now - his mood was really good. Otherwise he would've said nothing. Or, he could've said something biting. He could've expressed disappointment about the fact that Grimmjow was alive. Not like Nnoitra actually thought the other died in the World of the Living. It had just been a stupid story, shared between the lower ranked Arrancar, that the Sexta had gone and got himself killed by humans. Hah, AS IF. Grimmjow was much too strong for that.

He was ranked just below Nnoitra, after all.

Nnoitra had seen Grimmjow display impressive strength, and he was fully aware that at some point, he would have to kill the Sexta, or the other might be inclined to think their strength was on par with each other. That he might become the Quinto by taking Nnoitra down.

Not today though. He wasn't in the mood. Besides, when he decided to kill Grimmjow, he'd do it in one strike, at a point when the other was vulnerable.

❝ Idiot. Ya could'a just said agreed. ❞ Nnoitra's "joke" had been pretty close to a compliment, so why did Grimmjow have to be all pissy about it? ❝ You're right though, I wouldn't give a shit if ya died - we're all gonna die, all'a the Espada. Aizen 's gonna get us all killed. ❞ He said it casually and in a matter-of-fact way. Like he was talking about tomorrow's weather or whatever.

[despairforme]

Her reiatsu told him that she was a Shinigami - but she sure dressed strangely. No uniform. Maybe she was an outcast? Did they kick her out because she was too small? Wouldn't surprise him. He was interested in seeing her weapon though. Surely, it had to be big, if she'd honestly thought it could compare to his.

She DID look impressed with the size of Santa Teresa - as she fucking should be. Nnoitra's weapon was the largest among the Arrancar. It had to be big, right? Otherwise there was no way it could turn into an endless supply of arms when he released it. ❝ Tone shit down? Nah, that ain't me. ❞ He grinned. She called his blade "good", but commented that the gaps were big. Swing it across rather than through? Nah. Through was the most fun part. Trapping someone in the deadly crescent shape. His grin turned into an annoyed frown when she called his arms skinny. He fucking HATED it when people commented on that - he knew his frame didn't look strong. Which was annoying as hell. He would've loved to have a body that reflected his power. ❝ 'Daz 'cause I'm fuckin' strong. ❞ He sneered.

Finally, he got to see her blade. Like all other Shinigami, she had to release it to show its true shape - or it would just look like any other katana.

It WAS large. Looked even bigger than it really was - due to how small the wielder was. It was a large cleaver, with a clearly serrated edge, almost saw-like. He liked the look of it, and his mood was lifted again. He also liked her release call. Chop Cleanly. Made him think of food. Certainly better than his own; PRAY.

He was grinning again.

❝ They say the Zanpakuto match the reiatsu 'a the wielder, yeah? Guess my aura 's just massive. ❞ She was not claiming that "size doesn't matter" , which was good. - size always mattered. ❝ At least yours looks pretty comfortable 'ta wield. ❞ He flexed his fingers, as if to get a feel for how her Zanpakuto would be to hold. ❝ Santa Teresa's handle 's too thin. ❞ Nnoitra had WAY too big hands for that skinny handle.

@despairforme continued.

HAH? Did she seriously think SHE had the biggest Zanpakuto? What a fucking joke. Nnoitra arched his brow, before his expression turned smug, big teeth peeking out. He was one of the only Arrancar who walked around with his Zanpakuto drawn at all times. He couldn't exactly put Santa Teresa away. Back when he'd been the Octavo, he'd been able to wear his Zanpakuto on his back, but after he became the Quinto, and Santa Teresa doubled in size? That was no longer possible. His only option was to always carry his weapon, dragging it along and creating a trade-mark trail behind him, be it in the sand or in the stone of Las Noches.

She'd requested to see his weapon, and so he'd show her. He was briefly tempted to whip his dick out, just for fun - it was a good opportunity for that, but in the end he was too proud of Santa Teresa to make a joke right now. He swung the giant ax-like weapon around, placing it in front of the TINY chick. Santa Teresa was ENORMOUS. Taller than even Nnoitra himself, and oh so heavy. When Nnoitra thrust it into the ground to make it stand on display, a cloud of dust was kicked up. He grinned.

❝ Yeah, it's pretty big. ❞ Bigger than hers, for sure - even though she DID have a big one.

-x-

Nnoitra’s smile should be eerie. All straight, even teeth. It looks more like a frown than a smile… and yet… it was so familiar. Hiyori could just about make it out as she stared at the former Espada. Former… current? Did it even matter? These rankings were given by Aizen and may be a sincere reflection of their power at that time… but things have changed.

She has also been frequenting Hueco Mundo as of late. Not for picnics, but to find different energy signatures, to collect data for Kisuke on attacks, cero patterns – there was so much to learn. So many things that were not open to them before. In a way, it seems Kisuke was delighted by the way Aizen had shook things up over there. Arrancar, Vaste Lord… so many things…

And… their weapons. Santa Teresa was big and beautiful. The way its metal curved and bent into conjoined twins. She covered her nose and mouth just in time, squinting through the cloud of dust it raised… and finally settles at her sandalled feet. It was much bigger than even she had anticipated. Bigger than Tiburon, bigger than most bankai. Judging by sight alone, it was coated in dense black metal, like osmium but part hollow. A soul fused through it… similar to an asauchi…

“Geez - yer not the type ‘ta tone shit down huh?” But she did look impressed. It was not just the unique shape, but it was the linked chains as well. He could use any part of his weapon. It didn’t really have a proper hilt and it didn't seem to bother him.

“Yer blade is good… gaps are big though. Ya gotta swing it across rather than through… ”she notes the large concave curve and grins. “Yer arms are so skinny but ya can move it around like its light."

She slides her own out of its sheathe, the little heart shaped tsuba looking ridiculous against the massive Santa Teresa.

"Let's see - Chop Cleanly, Kubikiri Orochi."

With the command, it was released. A Large, serrated knife twice as tall and about as wide as its petite owner.

Kubikiri Orochi was bigger than most Zanpakuto, but obviously did not match Santa Teresa.

"Why is yers so big..." she pouts.

[despairforme]

What time is it ??

[despairforme]

[despairforme]

Boss music should be playing around him 24/7 !!