07-08-2017, 09:57 PM
If there was one thing Serraph knew about himself, it was how aimless he could be. For one who was literally a walking, human shaped scroll of sorts. From his time here in the Nexus, the wandering Arrancar had the place ingrained into his being. This place as pristine as it were served no more purpose for him. The portals, the fountain, and those primes and secondaries flocking to and from them bored him. For days it seemed no one different had come out to the fountain he had made as his temporary resting place. No Imperial Stormtrooper nor Camelot Guardsman had made their usual patrols out here. It was quite odd as it were.
The only one who bothered showing up was a roughneck from one of the various portals yonder. The man smelled of dense cigar smoke complemented with a heavy stench of alcohol. The man ignored the Arrancar, possibly thinking him as a mere child. For whatever reason the man chose to stand there, it was likely the wrong decision. Primes that are transported here come from many various walks of life. It is impossible to discern completely the manner of man, woman, devil, or god that may walk from that fountain.
The man rolled the dice and rolled a critical failure, a failure that cost him his life. What sense is it to treat a nonhuman as human? From where this violent dictator was from, this human could have unintentionally challenged him. Omni had the hilarious tendacy to pull Gods and Kings from their standing among their world to play in his little game. This result was quite amusing for the Ex-Espada, who somewhat patiently watched as he sat somewhat patiently against the fountain.
Serraph would stand, his pale hands brushing the dust from his bleach-white slacks and coat before walking over to the Fool's dead body, his light grey eyes studying the man's wounds. This Emperor of sorts was strong to be able to rip this man apart with little effort. "This man was quite rude, perhaps silence is a state best fitting for him.", The arrancar would say casually, his hands concealing themselves in a pair of pale gloves.
The Brutal Monarch would turn his head, crimson eyes shifting its gaze over the pale arrancar. "...And you would be?", the alien would ask, his tail casually waving about behind him.
Serraph took a step back from him and placed his left arm out in front of him, bowing his body over that point. "I would be Serraph Quarrere, 8th Espada of Hueco Mundo as well as head Librarian of Los Noches.", The Arrancar would say before rising from his respective pose. His gloved hand would raise to his glasses, adjusting them upon his head. "Did Omni summon you as well?", Serraph would ask, his dull eyes glancing down upon the body.
It was only natural for him to feel a sudden craving for the recently dead. After all, he had been refusing to feed as a normal, boring Hollow would. Instead he chose to consume knowledge as nourishment. Through texts and knowledge he could keep himself relevant in his world but every once in a while he'd crave that metallic taste that a soul would give. "If so, Allow me to be the first... proper one... to welcome you to Omni's toybox"
The only one who bothered showing up was a roughneck from one of the various portals yonder. The man smelled of dense cigar smoke complemented with a heavy stench of alcohol. The man ignored the Arrancar, possibly thinking him as a mere child. For whatever reason the man chose to stand there, it was likely the wrong decision. Primes that are transported here come from many various walks of life. It is impossible to discern completely the manner of man, woman, devil, or god that may walk from that fountain.
The man rolled the dice and rolled a critical failure, a failure that cost him his life. What sense is it to treat a nonhuman as human? From where this violent dictator was from, this human could have unintentionally challenged him. Omni had the hilarious tendacy to pull Gods and Kings from their standing among their world to play in his little game. This result was quite amusing for the Ex-Espada, who somewhat patiently watched as he sat somewhat patiently against the fountain.
Serraph would stand, his pale hands brushing the dust from his bleach-white slacks and coat before walking over to the Fool's dead body, his light grey eyes studying the man's wounds. This Emperor of sorts was strong to be able to rip this man apart with little effort. "This man was quite rude, perhaps silence is a state best fitting for him.", The arrancar would say casually, his hands concealing themselves in a pair of pale gloves.
The Brutal Monarch would turn his head, crimson eyes shifting its gaze over the pale arrancar. "...And you would be?", the alien would ask, his tail casually waving about behind him.
Serraph took a step back from him and placed his left arm out in front of him, bowing his body over that point. "I would be Serraph Quarrere, 8th Espada of Hueco Mundo as well as head Librarian of Los Noches.", The Arrancar would say before rising from his respective pose. His gloved hand would raise to his glasses, adjusting them upon his head. "Did Omni summon you as well?", Serraph would ask, his dull eyes glancing down upon the body.
It was only natural for him to feel a sudden craving for the recently dead. After all, he had been refusing to feed as a normal, boring Hollow would. Instead he chose to consume knowledge as nourishment. Through texts and knowledge he could keep himself relevant in his world but every once in a while he'd crave that metallic taste that a soul would give. "If so, Allow me to be the first... proper one... to welcome you to Omni's toybox"
"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!"