02-01-2017, 04:27 AM
"Did you two stop and think about where you are now? Look back on the Smiling One's words", The pale Arrancar would say, his frail body standing from his position. If these two weren't stopped, this whole situation could blow out of proportion. Out in the distance even Serraph could spot the contingent of men heading their way, probably on part with the murderer in the group's presence. It wasn't good and there was no way to tell if their intentions were good or evil. In either case it was probably best for them to leave and settle this another time.
His eyes would glance upon the flash of silver, two long bayonets brandished in each hand. This man sure was a man of faith, even if that faith had no true hold in this place. The murderer was indeed correct here, but he failed to recognize the replacement. This was Omni's realm and they all were essentially his playthings. This conflict was no doubt one of these orchestrated events, challenges the group would have to overcome. The Arrancar would sigh, the feeling of sliding paper becoming inscribed with the events was a tedious one. Beneath his fragile skin he could feel the messages being sent to his palms in which long sheets of paper would feed out and begin folding rapidly. The form would grow and continue shifting in shape until the form of Anderson's blades were copied. The process was nearly complete. The boy would channel his little bit of Omnilinium through his body, rewriting the rules of existence these paper copies lived by. Soon their color and composition would shift towards something resembling the originals until they both became exact replicas of Anderson's weapons. Serraph tested their weight, Twirling them between his fingers. The size was quite awkward for his thin fingers. These weapons were truly made with Anderson in mind. However... his experience with a blade was more than enough to use them to at least that standard. They would have to do for now until he could obtain something else later. He'd step between the two men, pointing a bayonet at each to halt their advance.
"Now men.. lets be reasonable. There is a squad of soldiers heading our way... surely they know of our little Murderer's wrong doing. They might be understanding and let us innocents go.... or they could not give a rat's ass in Hueco Mundo what actually happened and take us all in.", he'd say, glaring down the spine of the bayonet he pointed at the face of the murderer. "I suggest we all leave now. Those.. lights on the horizons may be an indicator of sorts.", he'd say, lowering the weapons. "In any case... I'll be leaving with King Usopp here."
The boy would twirl a silver blade by its spine, offering the copy back to its originator, Sir Anderson himself. Surely he'd know if there really was any difference. Serraph heavily doubted this as his work surely was masterful. If he copied it correctly that is. The Heavenly man should not be able to tell the difference. If he couldn't, then that was just another tool under Serraph's belt. Serraph would grab the "King" by the wrist, giving it a quick tug to jog him from whatever day dream he was having.
"For now at least. Where-ever you are going, I'll follow. I have a feeling you will make this journey quite interesting."
His eyes would glance upon the flash of silver, two long bayonets brandished in each hand. This man sure was a man of faith, even if that faith had no true hold in this place. The murderer was indeed correct here, but he failed to recognize the replacement. This was Omni's realm and they all were essentially his playthings. This conflict was no doubt one of these orchestrated events, challenges the group would have to overcome. The Arrancar would sigh, the feeling of sliding paper becoming inscribed with the events was a tedious one. Beneath his fragile skin he could feel the messages being sent to his palms in which long sheets of paper would feed out and begin folding rapidly. The form would grow and continue shifting in shape until the form of Anderson's blades were copied. The process was nearly complete. The boy would channel his little bit of Omnilinium through his body, rewriting the rules of existence these paper copies lived by. Soon their color and composition would shift towards something resembling the originals until they both became exact replicas of Anderson's weapons. Serraph tested their weight, Twirling them between his fingers. The size was quite awkward for his thin fingers. These weapons were truly made with Anderson in mind. However... his experience with a blade was more than enough to use them to at least that standard. They would have to do for now until he could obtain something else later. He'd step between the two men, pointing a bayonet at each to halt their advance.
"Now men.. lets be reasonable. There is a squad of soldiers heading our way... surely they know of our little Murderer's wrong doing. They might be understanding and let us innocents go.... or they could not give a rat's ass in Hueco Mundo what actually happened and take us all in.", he'd say, glaring down the spine of the bayonet he pointed at the face of the murderer. "I suggest we all leave now. Those.. lights on the horizons may be an indicator of sorts.", he'd say, lowering the weapons. "In any case... I'll be leaving with King Usopp here."
The boy would twirl a silver blade by its spine, offering the copy back to its originator, Sir Anderson himself. Surely he'd know if there really was any difference. Serraph heavily doubted this as his work surely was masterful. If he copied it correctly that is. The Heavenly man should not be able to tell the difference. If he couldn't, then that was just another tool under Serraph's belt. Serraph would grab the "King" by the wrist, giving it a quick tug to jog him from whatever day dream he was having.
"For now at least. Where-ever you are going, I'll follow. I have a feeling you will make this journey quite interesting."
"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!"