06-09-2018, 04:03 PM
Serraph didn’t expect the small woman to cling to him so. The speed of their friendship seemed almost natural yet here she was curled up against his side. She had fallen asleep without a worry on a being she had only known for a little over a day. What had Serraph done to garner such trust from the little lady? Though his knowledge was expansive, the Arrancar failed to wrap his mind around the minds of those among the living. Their actions often didn’t make sense yet they commit to them without a second thought.
His hand grasped only slightly firmer at the woman’s silky hair, his digits embedding into her golden strands. If he had been any other hollow now would be the perfect time to strike. He could maim her, kill her, and any other actions a mortal would consider unthinkable. His hand relaxed, allowing the hand to slide over her head to rest them upon her shoulders.
“But I wouldn’t do such a thing. I cannot.”, he’d think to himself, reminding himself of his oath to his king. He remember kneeling there before his perfect majesty, the golden aura of his power radiating off his blemish-less armor. The king accepted him even knowing the treachery dealing with his kind can bring. Serraph devoted himself to him, if only for the security of being surrounded by beings more powerful than he. Serraph did, however, have no intention of ignoring his oath. He’d serve him and support him. Gilgamesh was his king and Serraph was the King’s servant.
He’d sigh, his head leaning back against the cool steel door, his mind exhausted already from the dealings the day had wrought. He’d take his moment of reprieve, his mind drifting into a dazed like state. He could feel that old familiar feeling again pulling at his mind, gently leading it down into the warm depths of his soul. Warm hands would be felt cradling his head, long fingers stretching over the deathly white flesh over his face. A pair of digits would guide his eyes closed.
Many minutes passed, his body ceasing its breathing. The Arrancar’s body lay frozen next to Shantotto’s. His eyes would creak open slowly, the steel grey of his eyes replaced by a faintly glowing emerald hue. The gaze glanced down at the woman by his side. The mysterious entity within Serraph’s soul had observed the events of her treasured one’s life, but now she was given another opportunity to see it for herself.
It was adorable to see one of ancient standard behave in such a manner. She couldn’t say much. She herself treated Serraph in a similar manner. After all, the boy was precious to him even more now than ever. She’d take in a deep breath, Serraph’s chest rising from the rush of air filling them. And then she’d speak. Her words were an equal if not finer musical quality than even the woman curled up beside her darling. The timeless sound was smooth and flawless, soothing the sleeping ears of her precious and his comrade.
“Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasný, bayukshi bayu~”, the words began, slowly building within the room. Her words filled the bodies of the pair, her spiritual essence enveloping them both in a protective embrace. She’d invite them to further sleep, guiding them along to their pleasant dreamscapes.
“Tikho smotrit myesyats yasný f kolýbyel tvayu.” She was reminded of the hollowed moon of Hueco Mundo, its reflective light providing the only light source for her home. The black sky would be featureless as no stars existed above the realm. Without it the desolate desert would be thrust into landscape void of any hope. Hollows would wander the darkness alone and die of their unending hunger. The sole light in the sky provided the means to survive and such many of hollow-kind revere the night and its solitary moon, forced to remain alone so Hueco Mundo’s inhabitants would not share its unending fate.
“Stanu skazývat’ ya skaski, pyesenki spayu,” The nameless woman in Serraph’s body would reach around slowly as to not stir the sleeping Tarutaru, the arms cradling her to Serraph’s chest as the woman stood. She’d slowly carry her to her bed, setting her upon it softly. “Ty-zh dremli, zakrýshi glaski, bayushki bayu.~”
The mysterious woman would shrug away the loose robes covering Serraph’s body, his arm catching the thick hempen fabric in his arm. She’d drape it over her tiny form, tucking her within its safety. Serraph’s body would sigh and step back Shantotto , turning about to face the door. Serraph’s face was grave and serious, the soft smile gone from his pale lips. The mysterious woman strode to their door, her hand grasping upon its handle.
“Bogatýr tý busish s vidu i kazak dushoi. Pravazhat’ tibya ya výdu, tý makhnyosh rukoi…”, her song left off, the sweet soothing voice darkening as it faded away quietly. Things seemed positive for her precious, but behind every corner and within every shadow a traitor could lay waiting, their venomous dagger poised to strike. She was weary especially in a place such as this where many of various walks of life were kept within close proximity to each other. What would she do if her Seraphim were to be hurt?
There would be nothing she could do. Not yet at least…
Seraph’s hand would twist the latch allowing him to open Shantotto’s door. The hallway’s light would creep into the darkness of the room, shining over his form. His eyes had reverted back to its steel hue, his face returning to its normal expressionless state. The events minutes prior were lost on him but only slightly. He remembered only carrying his comrade to the comfort of her bed, but not the sweet song that enveloped them. He had felt a small taste of satisfaction there watching Shantotto’s peaceful slumber, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. He couldn’t help a sense of dread envelope him as he walked out into the corridor, his shirtless torso for all to see.
A perfect and clean three inch wide hole rested just beneath his collarbone and a jagged black tattoo of the number eight was portrayed on the left side of his chest. Those of his home world would know for sure what he was if they were to lay eyes upon Serraph, but he cared less than he did before. He was brimming with confidence from Shantotto’s comforting presence. From there on he would do his best to keep his wits about him no matter how camera shy he’d get.
“I’d best get a move on. There is likely not more time left before this event starts.”, he’d mutter beginning his journey down the halls. Now where to meet his partner? Best place to look would be where the most bodies would be. The Bar would be the first place to look.
His hand grasped only slightly firmer at the woman’s silky hair, his digits embedding into her golden strands. If he had been any other hollow now would be the perfect time to strike. He could maim her, kill her, and any other actions a mortal would consider unthinkable. His hand relaxed, allowing the hand to slide over her head to rest them upon her shoulders.
“But I wouldn’t do such a thing. I cannot.”, he’d think to himself, reminding himself of his oath to his king. He remember kneeling there before his perfect majesty, the golden aura of his power radiating off his blemish-less armor. The king accepted him even knowing the treachery dealing with his kind can bring. Serraph devoted himself to him, if only for the security of being surrounded by beings more powerful than he. Serraph did, however, have no intention of ignoring his oath. He’d serve him and support him. Gilgamesh was his king and Serraph was the King’s servant.
He’d sigh, his head leaning back against the cool steel door, his mind exhausted already from the dealings the day had wrought. He’d take his moment of reprieve, his mind drifting into a dazed like state. He could feel that old familiar feeling again pulling at his mind, gently leading it down into the warm depths of his soul. Warm hands would be felt cradling his head, long fingers stretching over the deathly white flesh over his face. A pair of digits would guide his eyes closed.
Many minutes passed, his body ceasing its breathing. The Arrancar’s body lay frozen next to Shantotto’s. His eyes would creak open slowly, the steel grey of his eyes replaced by a faintly glowing emerald hue. The gaze glanced down at the woman by his side. The mysterious entity within Serraph’s soul had observed the events of her treasured one’s life, but now she was given another opportunity to see it for herself.
It was adorable to see one of ancient standard behave in such a manner. She couldn’t say much. She herself treated Serraph in a similar manner. After all, the boy was precious to him even more now than ever. She’d take in a deep breath, Serraph’s chest rising from the rush of air filling them. And then she’d speak. Her words were an equal if not finer musical quality than even the woman curled up beside her darling. The timeless sound was smooth and flawless, soothing the sleeping ears of her precious and his comrade.
“Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasný, bayukshi bayu~”, the words began, slowly building within the room. Her words filled the bodies of the pair, her spiritual essence enveloping them both in a protective embrace. She’d invite them to further sleep, guiding them along to their pleasant dreamscapes.
“Tikho smotrit myesyats yasný f kolýbyel tvayu.” She was reminded of the hollowed moon of Hueco Mundo, its reflective light providing the only light source for her home. The black sky would be featureless as no stars existed above the realm. Without it the desolate desert would be thrust into landscape void of any hope. Hollows would wander the darkness alone and die of their unending hunger. The sole light in the sky provided the means to survive and such many of hollow-kind revere the night and its solitary moon, forced to remain alone so Hueco Mundo’s inhabitants would not share its unending fate.
“Stanu skazývat’ ya skaski, pyesenki spayu,” The nameless woman in Serraph’s body would reach around slowly as to not stir the sleeping Tarutaru, the arms cradling her to Serraph’s chest as the woman stood. She’d slowly carry her to her bed, setting her upon it softly. “Ty-zh dremli, zakrýshi glaski, bayushki bayu.~”
The mysterious woman would shrug away the loose robes covering Serraph’s body, his arm catching the thick hempen fabric in his arm. She’d drape it over her tiny form, tucking her within its safety. Serraph’s body would sigh and step back Shantotto , turning about to face the door. Serraph’s face was grave and serious, the soft smile gone from his pale lips. The mysterious woman strode to their door, her hand grasping upon its handle.
“Bogatýr tý busish s vidu i kazak dushoi. Pravazhat’ tibya ya výdu, tý makhnyosh rukoi…”, her song left off, the sweet soothing voice darkening as it faded away quietly. Things seemed positive for her precious, but behind every corner and within every shadow a traitor could lay waiting, their venomous dagger poised to strike. She was weary especially in a place such as this where many of various walks of life were kept within close proximity to each other. What would she do if her Seraphim were to be hurt?
There would be nothing she could do. Not yet at least…
Seraph’s hand would twist the latch allowing him to open Shantotto’s door. The hallway’s light would creep into the darkness of the room, shining over his form. His eyes had reverted back to its steel hue, his face returning to its normal expressionless state. The events minutes prior were lost on him but only slightly. He remembered only carrying his comrade to the comfort of her bed, but not the sweet song that enveloped them. He had felt a small taste of satisfaction there watching Shantotto’s peaceful slumber, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. He couldn’t help a sense of dread envelope him as he walked out into the corridor, his shirtless torso for all to see.
A perfect and clean three inch wide hole rested just beneath his collarbone and a jagged black tattoo of the number eight was portrayed on the left side of his chest. Those of his home world would know for sure what he was if they were to lay eyes upon Serraph, but he cared less than he did before. He was brimming with confidence from Shantotto’s comforting presence. From there on he would do his best to keep his wits about him no matter how camera shy he’d get.
“I’d best get a move on. There is likely not more time left before this event starts.”, he’d mutter beginning his journey down the halls. Now where to meet his partner? Best place to look would be where the most bodies would be. The Bar would be the first place to look.
Quote:Moving Serraph from the Barracks to the Bar
"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!"