http://death-lily.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
death-lily.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paixaorpg2006-06-02 07:30 am
death-lily.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-06-02 07:30 am
Entry tags:
Where is everyone? [COMPLETED]
Characters: Matsumoto Rangiku, Hitsugaya Toushirou, Ichimaru Gin, and any of the other Bleach-muns or characters who are itching to play, sorry for the lag who might be in the general area.
Content: Rangiku finally wakes up from apparent hibernation.
Setting: Right outside the Morem o Lisboa [M4].
Time: Technically Saturday, just a little past Friday midnight.
Warnings: None.
She wasn't sure whether she ought to be worried that she didn't remember exactly how she got upstairs, how she managed to pass out cold for over a day, but as Rangiku stepped out of the hotel lobby and out into the street the shinigami decided that at least for the moment, she didn't really care.
Her last recollections were set Thursday morning. She knew that much because her last journal entry was set at around that same time, and while the entry itself seemed written in an implied alright state of mind, she barely remembered lifting the pen to write it.
On the other hand, she wished that the images of that Thursday morning could have been jumbled, her thoughts disoriented, so that she could just dismiss them as another of the random and less than appealing dreams that had been plaguing her long since before she arrived in this city. But they weren't, and as clearly as she could see the lamps shining to illuminate the darkened street she could still recall the rain, and Gin, and Aizen, and what almost turned out to be a battle inside the hotel.
Glancing back briefly, she wondered where Urahara-san was. The reception desk was currently manned by some other person employed by the hotel. Come to think of it, she mused, I wonder where everyone else is as well.
Was Zaraki back? She wasn't sure. Rukia-san? The same. Kurosaki? Well, the answers were all defaulting back to the same one.
With a sigh, she settled down on the steps, glad to be shielded from the pitter-patter of rainfall intermingled with bits of snow that melted quickly when they fell into the palm of her hand. Hugging herself from the cold -- a sensation that she was going to have to get used to, she supposed -- she resigned herself to waiting. And silence.
Content: Rangiku finally wakes up from apparent hibernation.
Setting: Right outside the Morem o Lisboa [M4].
Time: Technically Saturday, just a little past Friday midnight.
Warnings: None.
She wasn't sure whether she ought to be worried that she didn't remember exactly how she got upstairs, how she managed to pass out cold for over a day, but as Rangiku stepped out of the hotel lobby and out into the street the shinigami decided that at least for the moment, she didn't really care.
Her last recollections were set Thursday morning. She knew that much because her last journal entry was set at around that same time, and while the entry itself seemed written in an implied alright state of mind, she barely remembered lifting the pen to write it.
On the other hand, she wished that the images of that Thursday morning could have been jumbled, her thoughts disoriented, so that she could just dismiss them as another of the random and less than appealing dreams that had been plaguing her long since before she arrived in this city. But they weren't, and as clearly as she could see the lamps shining to illuminate the darkened street she could still recall the rain, and Gin, and Aizen, and what almost turned out to be a battle inside the hotel.
Glancing back briefly, she wondered where Urahara-san was. The reception desk was currently manned by some other person employed by the hotel. Come to think of it, she mused, I wonder where everyone else is as well.
Was Zaraki back? She wasn't sure. Rukia-san? The same. Kurosaki? Well, the answers were all defaulting back to the same one.
With a sigh, she settled down on the steps, glad to be shielded from the pitter-patter of rainfall intermingled with bits of snow that melted quickly when they fell into the palm of her hand. Hugging herself from the cold -- a sensation that she was going to have to get used to, she supposed -- she resigned herself to waiting. And silence.
no subject
no subject
On that matter, should he forgive him. He betrayed all of Soul Society, that was an obvious one. He had to be watched at all times no. There was no letting him slither away again.
But what had Ichimaru really done to him personally? He threatened Hinamori and almost killed her (if it wasn't for Rangiku). But of course he wasn't as bad as Aizen had been. He was not the one that nearly killed her and then Hitsugaya as well.
But he was in league with him. He was still a betrayer.
A child groaned and closed his eyes in thought. He didn't fully trust Ichimaru but he certainly wasn't as bad as some (though Hitsugaya never really liked the man to begin with anyway). And there was Matsumoto to consider. Well, she was too part of the Gotei 13 and Soul Society, the place that Hitsugaya was at least loyal to.
Ichimaru needed to be under watch and Hitsugaya could not have a fukutaicho who obviously had a lot on her mind. That would be horrible for work.
Hyourinmaru found its way in its sheath once again, though Hitsugaya's hand never left it's hilt. "Ichimaru, you will no longer have the freedom you once did. From her on out you will be placed under constant surveillance."
The shinigami turned then to the woman beside him. "Feel free to take the box, Matsumoto, but your new assignment is watching over this man. Never let him out of your sight for one second." He looked around the buildings surrounding them for a moment.
"I'm going to look around this city some more tomorrow and get a good idea of where we are and what's going on. I'll meet you here when I am finished.
"And remember, always keep him in your sight." Hitsugaya repeated. He looked at the two breifly before turning and making his way down a quiet street.
no subject
Watch him. Follow him. Those were her orders now.
She moved forward and plucked the box off of the pavement with not so much as a break in the rhythm of her gait. Tucking it into her robes she kept her eyes trained on Ichimaru and crumpled up her unease for later consideration.
She would check the contents later. If it was anything like the swatch of cloth hidden in her belt, then he would have questions to answer.