imperialhunter-blog

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Finally one arrived, but it was not one that Tier had been expecting. In truth, the Noveno was not among those that leaped to mind when she contemplated the tedium of these meetings. While he was not without a voice, his presence was not aggressively apparent as those of, say, the the Quinto or the Sexta, nor was he as grating with beneath-the-breath grumbles as Baraggan. This one walked a fine line between the known and the unknown. Tier knew of him, perhaps more so than the more arrogant of their organisation, but there was still something she felt that she did not know, something discerning about his being. Still, at this moment, she was simply glad to see progress. For a moment, she thought to remain silent, but the prospect of spending any longer in a meeting room so bereft of activity bothered her. “Who knows?” she said, “On their way, hopefully.” She glanced at the Noveno. Such a strange creature he was. There were Arrancar who, once their masks were broken, seemed to reclaim a great deal of their humanity. Tier was one, Starrk was one. Even as a hollow, she had felt love and compassion for others. But then there were those who seemed to reject humanity entirely. The Noveno was complicated. He seemed to be one of the most monstrous of all, driven by little but hunger and the desire to evolve. It was never an evolution of the self that he desired, no greater lesson to learn or any particular goal to reach. He seemed to wish to grow for the sake of growing. And yet, with all the pride of his race, how much pleasure he takes from being a hollow capable of consuming hollow, he disguises his most visceral appendage as a human hand, and Tier had once seen him masquerading behind another’s face. To what end? Did he truly wish for the humanity that he seemed to detest, that Tier herself had managed to hold onto through her life as a hollow? The man was indeed an enigma.  “...This had better be important.”

Waiting...

@9thespada There was no pressure. Though the immense force of her own often left her insensitive to spiritual presences of others, if she were not actively seeking to assess them, it was clear the moment that Tier headed into the final ghostly-white corridor that there was no one waiting for her beyond the door. Though she was often among the earliest to arrive to these meetings, she had never been the first, and so was left with a bitter disappointment when she opened the door to see the room empty. Typically, Starrk, with so little else to do but wait patiently, would be there well in advance, or the zealot Zommari, whose own agenda in the grander scheme Tier had yet to truly deduce. And yet, neither were here today. Tier leaned against the wall just beside the door and let the great stone slabs drift close with a surprising subtlety. She waited. Rather a long wait. The others, the supposed elite of her race, misshapen hybrid as it is yet no less valid, were an infuriating group. Lazy. Quick to anger. Simply distracted from their larger purpose, indifferent to the change that they could achieve now that they had someone to guide. A greater power to which they can answer and commit themselves to the betterment of their world. Their people. There were some respectable individuals among them, but why were they so incapable of attending a single meeting on time. There’s no knowing how long they’ll be, Tier thought to herself, may as well get comfortable. She made for the table and took a seat, sea-green eyes flicking regularly to the door in hope, in sheer prayer, that the others would come soon and they could establish the next step towards an improved Hueco Mundo.

[imperialhunter-blog]

Waiting...

@9thespada There was no pressure. Though the immense force of her own often left her insensitive to spiritual presences of others, if she were not actively seeking to assess them, it was clear the moment that Tier headed into the final ghostly-white corridor that there was no one waiting for her beyond the door. Though she was often among the earliest to arrive to these meetings, she had never been the first, and so was left with a bitter disappointment when she opened the door to see the room empty. Typically, Starrk, with so little else to do but wait patiently, would be there well in advance, or the zealot Zommari, whose own agenda in the grander scheme Tier had yet to truly deduce. And yet, neither were here today. Tier leaned against the wall just beside the door and let the great stone slabs drift close with a surprising subtlety. She waited. Rather a long wait. The others, the supposed elite of her race, misshapen hybrid as it is yet no less valid, were an infuriating group. Lazy. Quick to anger. Simply distracted from their larger purpose, indifferent to the change that they could achieve now that they had someone to guide. A greater power to which they can answer and commit themselves to the betterment of their world. Their people. There were some respectable individuals among them, but why were they so incapable of attending a single meeting on time. There's no knowing how long they'll be, Tier thought to herself, may as well get comfortable. She made for the table and took a seat, sea-green eyes flicking regularly to the door in hope, in sheer prayer, that the others would come soon and they could establish the next step towards an improved Hueco Mundo.

[imperialhunter-blog]

[imperialhunter-blog]

Tier Harribel :: YELLOW