05-20-2018, 02:32 PM
The Arrancar’s eyes would drift open, his now dull grey eyes drifting about the room in which he lay. The atmosphere was heavy in the musk of aged parchment and the air carried the sole sound of turning pages throughout the expansive hall. He would lay in a single isle that separated rows upon rows of bookcases that lined the space he lay. His body would stir, his hands pushing against the rough wooden floor. As he arose from his prone position, he’d gain a better view of the open space ahead of him, a small clearing in the forest of bookcases and heaps of lore. A singular table was set up with two quite uncomfortable appearing chairs adjacent to the table. A woman sat at the table, her slender hands flipping through a quite small codex.
The boy felt younger than he’d remember. Everything seemed so massive in comparison to him. The books were utterly gargantuan compared to himself, yet he couldn’t make out much more than what he did. The vast library had obtained quite a bit a dust due to its lack of use. The Espada would brush the dust from his glasses, his eyes squinting towards the figure sitting there. His foot would make the first step towards her, the ancient wood beneath his feet crying out from the weight subjected against it. Each step would result in a similar noise, the strained squeaking planks alarming not the woman sitting alone in this vault of endless texts. The boy would set himself down upon the opposite chair, his eyes scanning over the person opposite him.
“You’ve never had good stamina, My Seraphim~”, the figure greeted, her eyes glancing up at the Arrancar. Serraph would sit back in his chair, his gloved hands folding on the table before him. The woman’s appearance was quite familiar from her long blood red hair and her soft emerald eyes. Her build was similar to his, but that was to be a given, considering what he believed this place to be.
“This is a dream… have we m--”, he’d begin, before immediately being cut off buy the other.
“Met? You know that does sadden me, but I can’t blame you.”, she’d sigh before sliding the slim book over to Serraph. His hand would catch the velvet bound text, his brow rising slightly.
“It’s warm… what is this?”, he’d ask, opening the cover. To his surprise many of the pages were unable to understand completely. Many pages were torn and cut asunder. Serraph would bite down hard upon his lip, the minuscule twang of pain helping him ignore the tightness growing in his chest. Books were to be read and preserved, not butchered and left to rot. It was a sad sight to see.
“That, is your memory of me.”, she’d reveal, her hand slipping beneath the open cover, her warm grasp pressing softly against his own to close the small novella. “Your predecessor betrayed me after seeing an opportunity to serve as an Espada. Tier Harribel didn’t order or encourage him I assure you.”, she’d mutter her hand lifting up to rest upon the boy’s head. Her fingers tangled themselves into his rigid do. His eyes glanced up at her, meeting with kind glow of her own. “You know of but one of your former’s betrayal.”
Serraph wasn’t surprised. His predecessor was a peculiar one. He wanted to live, yet he wanted to forget everything. To him salvation was to simply exist. No emotion nor memory had a place in his future. His mere existence automatically put himself at odds with Serraph. He had to go. There was nothing else at the time that needed to be done.
“Don’t forget your life before, but don’t be stuck there. If you do, you’ll live in misery.”
“Mmhm”, Serraph would nod, still not quite clear upon the identity of the one who held Serraph in such a… close regard. She was familiar and what she had said was not entirely out of the question. In fact it seemed quite plausible. The former Octava Espada’s blade was known to make others forget various bits of information. Perhaps he had stricken Serraph when he wasn’t aware. The mere thought caused his jaw to tighten.
The woman would notice and release a loud and hearty laugh, her frame draping itself lazily over the back of her chair. Her hand would remove itself from Serraph’s hair. The hand would ball itself into a tight fist in which she’d bring down upon the table, the old wood cracking at the point of impact.
“Now shoo, my Serraphim, leave me to catch up on my reading time. Someone has to enjoy all of the knowledge you’ve collected, ya know?”, she’d chuckle, her hand waving him along. His form would begin to fade, his vision darkening as he did. Before he could completely vanish, She'd wink at him mischievously. "Keep your head down. There are two of us in here, you know?"
She'd wait until his form had vanished before relaxing her tensed hand, her fist flatting out over the rough wood. She look up into the ceiling, a wide grin growing through out her face. Her bare, smooth legs would kick themselves up to rest upon Serraph's table, with one leg hanging over the other. "I need to get my Serraphim laid. He spends too much time with his head in books when they could be between some cute redhead's breasts. There's no doubt his service to Gilgamesh will add to the boy's cute factor. The women will be clawing over each other to get a piece of him", She'd laugh aloud, her head turning towards the faded picture of the Espada that hung upon the wall beside her. His face back then always seemed disinterested and his eyes so dull and distant.
"This place is good for you, kid. Be merry. Be happy. Serve your king! Show them all what its like to be an Arrancar!", the crimson haired woman would cry out before bringing her hand to her lips, her teeth capturing her index finger.
"Because at the end of the day, you'll be crawling right back to me~"
The boy felt younger than he’d remember. Everything seemed so massive in comparison to him. The books were utterly gargantuan compared to himself, yet he couldn’t make out much more than what he did. The vast library had obtained quite a bit a dust due to its lack of use. The Espada would brush the dust from his glasses, his eyes squinting towards the figure sitting there. His foot would make the first step towards her, the ancient wood beneath his feet crying out from the weight subjected against it. Each step would result in a similar noise, the strained squeaking planks alarming not the woman sitting alone in this vault of endless texts. The boy would set himself down upon the opposite chair, his eyes scanning over the person opposite him.
“You’ve never had good stamina, My Seraphim~”, the figure greeted, her eyes glancing up at the Arrancar. Serraph would sit back in his chair, his gloved hands folding on the table before him. The woman’s appearance was quite familiar from her long blood red hair and her soft emerald eyes. Her build was similar to his, but that was to be a given, considering what he believed this place to be.
“This is a dream… have we m--”, he’d begin, before immediately being cut off buy the other.
“Met? You know that does sadden me, but I can’t blame you.”, she’d sigh before sliding the slim book over to Serraph. His hand would catch the velvet bound text, his brow rising slightly.
“It’s warm… what is this?”, he’d ask, opening the cover. To his surprise many of the pages were unable to understand completely. Many pages were torn and cut asunder. Serraph would bite down hard upon his lip, the minuscule twang of pain helping him ignore the tightness growing in his chest. Books were to be read and preserved, not butchered and left to rot. It was a sad sight to see.
“That, is your memory of me.”, she’d reveal, her hand slipping beneath the open cover, her warm grasp pressing softly against his own to close the small novella. “Your predecessor betrayed me after seeing an opportunity to serve as an Espada. Tier Harribel didn’t order or encourage him I assure you.”, she’d mutter her hand lifting up to rest upon the boy’s head. Her fingers tangled themselves into his rigid do. His eyes glanced up at her, meeting with kind glow of her own. “You know of but one of your former’s betrayal.”
Serraph wasn’t surprised. His predecessor was a peculiar one. He wanted to live, yet he wanted to forget everything. To him salvation was to simply exist. No emotion nor memory had a place in his future. His mere existence automatically put himself at odds with Serraph. He had to go. There was nothing else at the time that needed to be done.
“Don’t forget your life before, but don’t be stuck there. If you do, you’ll live in misery.”
“Mmhm”, Serraph would nod, still not quite clear upon the identity of the one who held Serraph in such a… close regard. She was familiar and what she had said was not entirely out of the question. In fact it seemed quite plausible. The former Octava Espada’s blade was known to make others forget various bits of information. Perhaps he had stricken Serraph when he wasn’t aware. The mere thought caused his jaw to tighten.
The woman would notice and release a loud and hearty laugh, her frame draping itself lazily over the back of her chair. Her hand would remove itself from Serraph’s hair. The hand would ball itself into a tight fist in which she’d bring down upon the table, the old wood cracking at the point of impact.
“Now shoo, my Serraphim, leave me to catch up on my reading time. Someone has to enjoy all of the knowledge you’ve collected, ya know?”, she’d chuckle, her hand waving him along. His form would begin to fade, his vision darkening as he did. Before he could completely vanish, She'd wink at him mischievously. "Keep your head down. There are two of us in here, you know?"
She'd wait until his form had vanished before relaxing her tensed hand, her fist flatting out over the rough wood. She look up into the ceiling, a wide grin growing through out her face. Her bare, smooth legs would kick themselves up to rest upon Serraph's table, with one leg hanging over the other. "I need to get my Serraphim laid. He spends too much time with his head in books when they could be between some cute redhead's breasts. There's no doubt his service to Gilgamesh will add to the boy's cute factor. The women will be clawing over each other to get a piece of him", She'd laugh aloud, her head turning towards the faded picture of the Espada that hung upon the wall beside her. His face back then always seemed disinterested and his eyes so dull and distant.
"This place is good for you, kid. Be merry. Be happy. Serve your king! Show them all what its like to be an Arrancar!", the crimson haired woman would cry out before bringing her hand to her lips, her teeth capturing her index finger.
"Because at the end of the day, you'll be crawling right back to me~"
"Mine eyes hath seen the glory of the presence of my Lord. He is sifting through the treasures in which his Gates of Wrath does store. He lets loose the righteous vengeance of his terrible swift swords. Gilgemesh has returned!"