paixaorpg | Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies, ashes to ashes, we all fall down. [COMPLETED]

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Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies, ashes to ashes, we all fall down. [COMPLETED]

Character(s): Matsumoto Rangiku, Ichimaru Gin, Kurosaki Ichigo, Kuchiki Rukia, Zaraki Kenpachi, and anyone else at the Morem o Lisboa who might want to join in.
Content: Ran checks up on Gin, and quite possibly courts trouble. Ichigo having chatted with a certain Rukia through the network, decides to go downstairs to meet her at the lobby. Kenpachi, on the other hand, is enjoying the fact that is he is dry and indoors.
Setting: Morem o Lisboa [M4].
Time: Thursday really early morning.
Warnings: Gin, Kenpachi, Ichigo and Aizen -- in one room.

Ran set her hand against the wall and sighed softly, feeling fatigue slowly sinking in. The day had turned out longer than she had hoped, and the opportunity for some real shut-eye was still just beyond her reach.

She sluggishly descended down the steps, fully aware that she was going to check to see if he was still lingering outside. Halting for a moment, she wondered if it was even wise to actually sate her curiosity.

It was now nearing roughly three hours past midnight -- roughly three hours since she'd snuck him some leftovers. After their little encounter she'd slipped back into the hotel to distract the kitchen staff with a little bit of conversation as she pocketed half a loaf of bread and some hard-boiled eggs under the counter. She gone back out shortly, with the random excuse of having dropped something. The last thing she remembered was handing the edible items over to Gin before promptly heading back inside to see to her own comforts: a bath -- a long, warm one under the shower spray wherein -- no, she did not cry.

She set her hand on the handle and paused, attempting to convince herself that it would only be an empty alley way. Gin would be gone, as always, with only the shadows left behind.

Still.

It couldn't hurt to look.

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He couldn't sleep. Not tonight. Then again, when had been the last time he had slept? It had been so long since then, and Gin vaguely wondered if those days of pure, unadulterated, and comfy sleep would ever come back. Probably not. No, not unless Rangiku was willing to go back to the days when they used to hold each other on the floor of that small wooden home. The place in which they slept hadn't been spectacular, but the company had been all they needed.

There he was, feeling nostalgic all over again. Damn.

It didn't help that the place Ran had directed him to felt so much like that old shack. The winds coming through the cracks, the dust on the floor, and the aches that sat deep in his bones. Everything was so parallel, only she was missing. Which was probably the cause of his unrest. Gin was one who liked all of his pieces in place. And right now, they were haphazardly scattered. Mostly of his own doing, which only made the thought worse than it was. His mind wandered now, wondering if she was up, thinking about how he had gone and left. Again. Without telling her. Again.

Their story was a cliche, 500 times over. He left, she pined, he came back, she pouted. A circle of painful vice. She always wondered why he left without telling her. He did too, quite frankly. then again, not really. There had been a reason, he was sure, but it was one that had refused to surface when she asked him. Gin hadn't wanted her to see weakness, because he was supposed to be strong for her. His drive to be strong had thrown his common sense out the window. Especially with that tempting offer that Aizen had given to him. And so now, here he was again, thinking about why he had gone and followed the previous 5th Division Captain.

Right, Rangiku. Again.

That neverending circle. He let out a frustrated noise and stood. Sleep was obviously going to elude him all night. Time to leave. But this time, he was leaving to go back to Ran.

If that wasn't breaking the cycle, he didn't know what was.

She mused thoughtfully on how lonely a building back alley seemed without a random cat prowling the garbage cans in search of food. One of the oddities of Paixao that she'd noted after several days of living in the city was the absence of any of form of life other than that of it's residents -- people who looked like they were no better than dead (blank faces, too-pale faces, hair and eyes), and those who, like her, had been sucked into this place. There wasn't much else in the city. Even Soul Society had it's fair share of animal life: fish, birds, a random dog or cat.

Light flashed from above and Rangiku's eyes turned skyward just as the rain began to trickle down. Time to go back in, I guess... But she stayed where she was, letting it fall over her as thunder rumbled in the distance.

((OOC: BTW, think I'm gonna have Urahara botherbother Yoruichi-san instead. :< Morrimun posted a Yoru thread and it's too damn tempting. Besides, he's been pining like a puppy dog to ~~ravish~~ reunite with his beloved. <3))

If he hadn't proclaimed his absolute loathing of the rain and cold before, he was definitely about to do so now. Eck. It was so wet and cold and slick and COLD. No, more like freezing. Yeah, that was definitely a better word for it. The chill was the kind that sunk into your very bones, something that wasn't so hard for the weather to do to Gin anyway, on a normal basis. Sometimes he wondered if he should take Rangiku's advice and just eat more, even when he wasn't hungry. Nah, the ex-captain was known for being super skinny, and well, he kind of liked being sort of underestimated due to his stick-like stature.

It made fighting all the more interesting.

Then again, fighting was the last thing he wanted right now. Even though he was sure Zaraki-taicho and Kurosaki would want to stab him fifty-thousand times through, just so they knew he was dead. Either that or they'd burn him at the stake like a heretic. Interesting.

But Gin really didn't want to die. Death was a scary unknown. Especially to those from Soul Society. Who knew what lay in store for a destroyed soul? Right now, all he needed to concentrate on was Ran. Sounded kind of odd, but it wasn't a foreign thing to him. She was all he had thought about when they had been younger anyhow. His sandals splashed with every step towards that hotel. She was confused, hurt, and above all, angry. Gin needed to make it up to her, which was something he didn't do very often. Perhaps it was because even though they understood each other, there were some gaps that needed bridging. Like his leaving. From both childhood and now.

The ex-captain rounded the corner, peering down the next street. And there she sat, in the alley next to the hotel, blonde locks looking to be completely washed out with the rain streaming through it. This was going to a very big bridge to rebuild. He stepped forward lightly, not wanting to cause a disturbance.

"S'pretty, isn' it?" He wasn't referring to the rain.

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Rukia had planned to spend the remaining part of the night in her hotel room, contemplating this new twist in her life. But things never did go the way she wanted. First off, she was hungry and with the restaurant downstairs beckoning her, she couldn't resist it any longer. Especially after her stomach rumbled longingly. And secondly, she needed to find the others lest they wander off before she could catch them; she only hoped they weren't asleep already... but then again, what did it matter?

She padded slowly and silently down the long hallway, turning corners here and there and generally wandering around the hotel with no actual destination in mind. Sure, she would eventually reach the restaurant but hopefully with her fellows in tow or, at least, with the knowledge of where, exactly, they were in the Hotel.

Rukia stopped in the almost empty lobby, glancing at the snoozing clerk before seating herself on one of the many couches in said space. She leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes, listening as the rain began to patter on the pavement outside. A small rumble of thunder was also heard, announcing the coming storm; Rukia was glad she made it here before it hit.

The day before had passed fairly quickly for Ichigo, who was so preoccupied in scouring the journals and message board for any more info that he barely realised how dark the sky had become, what time it was, or the fact that he had skipped a meal or two.

Even if he'd noticed any of those, all would have been forgotten the moment he saw a familiar name on the network.

Rukia.

... A short while later, the conversation (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaorpg/74558.html) was over, and although he wouldn't admit it, the boy knew he wasn't quite being truthful to himself if he said he wasn't anxious at all about seeing her.

As soon as he'd signed off, Ichigo hurriedly closed the device up, clumsily tucking it into his shirt pocket, missing it three times in succession; and made his way down to the lobby.

He was a creature of habit, after all, and some things were harder to ignore than others. While Kenpachi often preferred to lurk Seiretei like a solitary beast on the prowl (even if the effect was muddied a bit by his cheerful pink-haired shoulder ornament), his life as a wandering bloodied swordsman was for the most part left behind him. So even though he was no longer in the Court of Pure Souls, Kenpachi still had a tendency to ... lurk.

The dark hiding place he'd taken up as his own beneath an awninged window on the back corner of the hotel would loosing its shadowed vantage come the midday sun, but at this hour and with the rain clouds blocking out what little light was to be had, it was a perfectly gloomy place for an equally dark Captain to sit. Sitting with his zanpakutou resting between his knees and against the hollow of his neck, Kenpachi was busy watching the earliest rain drops spatter the paving stones. A low growl of thunder made his browridges raise a fraction - he feared nothing, but he wasn't about to perch under a shoddy canvas awning during a thunderstorm when he could sit inside a perfectly-acceptable hotel and leer at the passing occupants.

Entering through the back of the hotel - a route almost as familiar to him now as his old haunts in Seireitei, he came upon the back of a familiar head seated on one of the strange things he was told was a 'sofa'. They had nothing of the like in Seireitei, and Kenpachi usually preferred the floor anyway. But either way, whatever the thing was, there was no mistaking the lesser-ranking woman who had been adopted into a Noble House. No doubt his hair adornments had given him away already, so Kenpachi wasn't about to try and act inconspicuous.

Instead he merely stopped over her shoulder behind the sofa, a rumbling chuckle sounding deep in his chest. "Na, little Kuchiki ... how nice of ya to drop in on our little refugee camp here."

(ooc. Sorry for the delay. D:)

After her conversation with Ichigo, she found herself swimming in a rather interesting mix of emotions. Of course, outwardly she was as collected as ever but inwardly she was screaming, wishing and willing his feet to move faster so she could see him again. It had certainly been a while...

...It was then she caught the familiar tinkling of bells just behind her and she chuckled inwardly; so Ichigo had been right, Zaraki Kenpachi was wandering the hotel. She turned as he greeted her, staring up at the large man before nodding. "Refugee camp? Strange way to word it but it works nonetheless."

((ooc: Is no problemo. :D))

Regarding the petite Shinigami with his usual manic grin somewhat, Kenpachi shrugged his broad shoulders, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. "Well there ain't much else to call it, is there? If you got any ideas I'm all for 'em."

Eye narrowing a bit as he looked down at her, Kenpachi's chest began to vibrate once more with his rumbling chuckle, almost at the same octave as the thunder that sounded outside. "So. Talked to Kurosaki yet?" Oh, he was going to enjoy tormenting Kurosaki even more now that Rukia was here. "Bet he's downright giddy to know yer here."

Rukia merely shrugged, turning back to face forward once more, assuming that Zaraki would wander off or something to that effect. It wasn't like they ever talked much before and Rukia wasn't exactly ready to start now.

...But he didn't leave, instead, began to chuckle that dark reverberating chuckle that only Zaraki Kenpachi possessed. She was about to respond to his question but his next words made her heart pound ferociously against her chest. ...Giddy?! The Ichigo she knew was anything but giddy, especially when it came to her. Zaraki was most definantly pulling her leg. "..Yes, I talked to him." She stated simply.

Making his way around the couch in a few steps, Kenpachi tucked himself onto a comfortable corner of the rug, a low coffee table at his elbow. Once again tucking the titanic sword against his shoulder and between his knees, Kenpachi looked Rukia over with his singular beady black eye.

"Y' talked to him? Don't get all excited now, little Kuchiki. 'm surprised he ain't broken the sound barrier gettin' down here." His smile widened a little, showing a fraction more of his even white teeth. Yeah, this was a definite improvement over sitting in the rain growling at shrubbery.

Rukia watched as the Captain walked around the couch, seating himself crosslegged on the floor before it, sword at it's normal position. She pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them in a casual postion; so, he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon. Great.

She tilted her head to the left slightly as he spoke again; he was egging her on but what if... what if he was correct? Rukia let her breath hiss through her teeth, turning to look at the 11th Division Captain again, "I'm hardly excited to see him..." Was all she said.

Most dismissed the lunatic Captain as a dense war-minded idiot who didn't see the forest for the trees or know his ass from a hole in the ground outside of a fight. But if there was one thing Zaraki Kenpachi was good at (...aside from being a dense war-minded idiot), it was reading people. True, he wasn't some touchy feely head-doctor, but his years of bloody brawling had given him a neat little handle on picking up on a person's body language. Most of it was used during a fight and to gain an advantage, but it helped elsewhere too.

For a moment he looked at Rukia, bells tinkling as he shook his head and turned his gaze elsewhere. At any rate, be it regarding his jabs about Kurosaki or even him just being there (he had that effect on people), it didn't look like she was very comfortable at the present time.

...
Now all he had to do was determine whether or not it was worth the chuckles to sit here and watch her squirm until Kurosaki showed up, or be merciful and occupy himself somewhere else. Oh, decisions, decisions.

Ran had rushed upstairs mostly because the feeling of wet clothes on her skin wasn't exactly the most comfortable sensation in the world. The truth was, she felt like something the kids at Rukongai had tossed in the river -- and she wanted out of it -- fast.

The cold was unbearable. She hadn't felt this... vulnerable in long, looooong while, and as much as she wanted to keep it from settling under her skin, irritation was beginning to bother her nerves. As she short of huffed into the hotel room provided for her, she found herself blaming the fox-faced baka who was -- she greatly hoped -- probably still standing outside in the pouring rain. If anyone had gotten her out of the comfortable warmth of the hotel, it was him and his newly-applied I-need-your-help-Ran-oh-sure-let's-forget-about-the-fact-that-I-betrayed-~~you~~soul-society-and-everyone-else-we-know-okay-Ran? -- By kami, if anything the oaf should be grateful that she was the type to think back fondly on their shared childhood enough to feed him something a little better than leftovers.

Tch. She glanced to the change of clothes that hung in her room -- clothes that were not her uniform and hardly comfortable (she'd tried them on a couple of times before and had felt like she was being squeezed into a death vise). She didn't want to wear them -- but it wasn't as if she had any choice...

... or did she?

Her hand stopped halfway to reaching for the garment as she remembered something that Zaraki had done on their first day of arriving at the hotel. With a bemused smirk, the shinigami channeled her reiatsu, the warmth of it ridding herself of the droplets that clung to her skin. Within seconds she was dry.

So, I didn't have to come up here afterall... she shook her head. You're getting flaky, my dear. Stop it or you'll embarrass yourself. Heading back down to the lobby she banished thoughts of Gin from her mind. He was not her concern anymore. She had done her part -- she'd given him food, told him a good place to stay -- she didn't owe him anything anymore.

The lobby came into view and Rangiku frowned at the sight of Zaraki sitting on the floor. What in hell's name...?

She blinked. "Rukia-san?"

The funny thing about sitting idle in an empty lobby during a rainstorm, one tends to get a little antsy, and maybe even too curious for one's own good. Kenpachi had been eyeing the room for the better half of his time here, mainly out of boredom, but also because he was what most would call nosey. It came from not wanting to be surprised in battle, but it was really just a general desire to know who was coming and going.

His position shifted slightly as he saw the familiar and rather appealing form of Matsumoto come into view. "Nice of ya to rejoin us, fukutaichou. Look who decided to drop in ..." His words trailed off as he caught just the slightest flash of movement in the background, someone lurking around in the shadows not wanting to be seen. A flash of light hair, and not just a naturally-light color, like Matsumoto's blonde. Silver, maybe. Eyes narrowing, Kenpachi grunted. There were lots of light-haired folk here, even the foreigners like him. Since day one he'd had suspicions about his arrival in Paixao being related to the stunt Aizen and his cronies pulled in Soul Society. With a mild shock, he recalled having spoken to one of said cronies on the journal network. Ichimaru was in Paixao.

His eyes narrowed once more, this time in concentration. Sensing reiatsu was hard for him, getting through the haze of his own massive spiritual pressure made it difficult. But if he could even get the smallest blip of ... Grunting, he felt a miniscule reaction to his search. He couldn't tell who it was, but they had reiatsu. Enough for him to sense. A taichou. Or, in this case, an ex-taichou. The numbers added up in a blinding speed, Kenpachi almost purring in satisfaction.

Slowly, purposefully, Kenpachi stood, his zanpakutou still sheathed in his grip. "I smell a rat." A dramatic sniff. "No. Make that a fox." The 11th Division Captain's infamous grin appeared, from ear to ear, displaying his white teeth, his laugh a dry hiss between said teeth. "C'mon out and plaaaaay, Ichimaru."

Ran felt her muscles tense just as Gin's name slid off Zaraki's tongue. Baka. I told him to scram! Her mind raced and all the while the vice-captain tried not to look too shocked -- afterall, she wasn't supposed to know that Gin was here.

She clenched her fist and glanced around, her movements stiff instead of fluid. Damn you Gin, I told you to leave. Some small part of her prayed that Zaraki would attribute her possibly sheet-white pallor to the uncomfortable circumstance that Gin was her childhood friend and thus putting his betrayal to soul society as something a little more personal on her part.

Afterall, when the initial shock of Gin's actions finally settled in back when they were all still in Seireitei, she would short of take out her temper on anyone unfortunate enough to catch her at a bad time.

That was unless Kyouraki-taicho called her over to drown her sorrows in drink.

"Taicho..." she whispered softly, though she doubt she heard him. She had no idea why she'd uttered the words in the first place except that something at the back of her head murmured soemthing or another about this was two nights in a row now that Zaraki was faced with a possible fight.

The thought was grim. At this rate they'd probably wreck the hotel in no time.

Rukia was glad Zaraki had, supposidly, decided to end the conversation... or at least, hopefully. She leaned back, regarding the large man before her, questions racing through her mind. Ichigo hadn't shed much light on the whole topic of them actually arriving in this strange city and she was still quite curious; it was inevitable. It was also inevitable that she would run into the rest of the folks that made up what Zaraki had referred to as a "refugee camp".

So when she heard her name, she turned, looking up at Matsumoto and giving a small nod, not sure exactly what to say. It was obvious that the Lieutenant was somewhat startled by her presence; Rukia came to the quick conclusion that Ichigo hadn't spoken to anyone since their conversation. So, instead of giving a lengthy greeting, Rukia smiled and said a simple, "Hello."

Rukia was about to continue but was interrupted by the sudden rising movement of Zaraki. She turned, peering at the man in curiousity... until he spoke. Her heart lept in her throat as a name slipped from the 11th Captain's mouth; Ichimaru Gin was here. She gave an invoulentary shudder, eyes widening for a split second before dissapearing behind a hardened expression. She rose in a fluid movement, gaze scanning the lobby of the hotel.

This was definatly a set-back.

"C'mon out and plaaaaay, Ichimaru."
The deep voice of Zaraki Kenpachi was taunting, and somehow... grating. A slow but curling grin appeared on Gin's face. Somehow, this was entirely amusing. Time for the showdown already? What a shame. He had been looking to prolong their ill-fated meeting, but unfortunately, luck was not on their side. Green eyes slid open just slightly, making his eyes look eerie and unnaturally slanted in the strange lighting. His grin grew wider as he stepped out into the light, a thin hand subtly laying on Shinsou's hilt.

"Naa~ Zaraki-taicho, oh, an' Kuchiki-san." He mock bowed, lips still curved in his half-sane looking smile. Eyes quickly shifted to Ran, who looked for all the world to be completely torn. And angry, but mostly torn. His eyes shifted back to the large Shinigami.

"Wha' kinda game were ya thinkin' of playin'?"

((Ew. Short. I'm sorry. T_T))

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe jumprope wit' yer intestines. Or marbles wit' yer eyeballs. Ain't decided yet. But at any rate, it's gonna be ffffuuun." His tongue appeared, licking briefly at the corner of his mouth. If Gin was a sly fox, Kenpachi was a bear - a towering mass of muscle that cared nothing for subtlety or delicate matters. His chin dropped to his chest. He was grinning so hard it felt like his lips were going to split open clean to his ears. Regarding the ex-Captain with one black eye, Kenpachi balled his fist, knuckles popping as the tendons stuck out sharply on the back of his hand. " 's almost a shame yer cohorts ain't here either, Ichimaru. I'd be lookin' forward to dealin' with you an' then sendin' yer parts back to 'em one bloody bit at a time."

Without really bothering with theatrics, Kenpachi unsheathed his nameless zanpakutou, dropping the sheathe to the ground with a clatter. Not taking his eye off of Gin, Kenpachi spoke to the two women. "The two of you stay outta this, clear?" It wasn't even that he was concerned for their safety - he wanted Ichimaru all to himself. Both of them would only get in his way. And on top of that, Zaraki Kenpachi needed no help.

"Enough of this shit." Kenpachi went into motion, pushing off with his feet as he launched himself at the ex-Captain, zanpakutou held behind him in the start of a lateral swing. His manic grin was still there, an easily-misconstrued snarl now. "Let's dance."

((ooc: *clings tightly to Kenpachi's leash* Down boy - down boy, no, no, down, bad taichou! Bad taichou! Sit! @_@;))

"Ahh~~ Interestin' choices there." Gin quirked an eyebrow, now drawing Shinsou from it's safe hold at his side. Impossibly thin fingers wrapped around the hilt, enjoying the familiarity. Adrenaline rushed through him now, quickening his already fast-beating pulse and resounding in his temples. Normally, that would be the cause of a terrible headache, but for now, it was a welcome annoyance.

Slitted eyes watched Kenpachi's movements carefully, evaluating this up and coming battle. The other Shinigami quite obviously had the upper hand when it came to size, and possibly, brute strength. For the unknowing viewer, this match would be completely uneven, taking into account Gin's frail stature. But that was exactly got the unknowing person killed. They underestimated, and were killed in the process. Yet, Kenpachi wasn't one to underestimate on his part either. The 11th Division captain was strong. Ridiculously so. So far, so good. Perhaps Gin wouldn't fool around so much in this one. It had been so long since he'd had a real battle.

Zaraki had made the first swing and the silver-haired man had seen it coming. The other's movements were an easy read, so he brought Shinsou up to block. What he hadn't been prepared for was the sheer impact. His right foot went sliding back in order to gain his balance back. Sword scraped against sword, the metal screeching through the air with the movement. Ichimaru pushed back and away, breaking the contact. He needed distance to do well in this. Shinsou was made for distance, close-hand was a disadvantage.

"Let's dance." Zaraki snarled, causing Gin to grin wider.

"Naa~ I can' do the tango ver' well though, I'll warn ya. Foxtrot 's more m' style." His last words were harsh as he thrust Shinsou forward, causing the blade to extend towards the tall Captain's knees.

Time to dance.

Rangiku felt her fingers close around Rukia's wrist and leapt aside, taking the other female shinigami with her. If things were going to get ugly -- and it would likely be the case -- she'd have to maneuver the two men outside.

Somehow.

"Kurosaki's upstairs, but you can talk to and see him later." She spoke without looking at the smaller girl, her hand falling to Haineko. "Right now though help me -- if these two bring the hotel down there'll be hell to pay and there might not be a later." Zaraki said not to interfere, but they couldn't very well repay generosity by wrecking the place.

She sped to the door and opened both before glancing back to see the two shinigami fighting it out, trying to ignore her heart as it leapt to her throat at the terrifying thought of Gin wounded if he even so much as let his own guard down.

Goddamn the pesky Captains and their zanpakutou sometimes! Always relying on the sword and all that shit. Kenpachi grunted as he shifted his weight to avoid Shinsou's blade, barely. Luckily for him the sword missed his knee directly, or else he would have been left off-balance and practically paralyzed. It did however carve a sizable gash in his calf as it glanced off the outer side of his left leg. Baring his teeth in pain and anger, his charge faltered.

Kenpachi barked a laugh. "Foxtrot? I walked right into that one, didn't I?" Bringing his sword down in a wide diagonal, a full-armed swing, the 11th Division Captain's reiatsu flared. Back in Seireitei a swing like this, even with his eyepatch still on would have done sizable damage. How it fared here in Paixao was yet to be determined.

((ooc: brain... gone... refusing ... to think... *falls over*))

It was upsetting really… this rain. Of all times for a violent storm to release its torrent of anger now of course seemed to be absolutely perfect. This only made the cold feel more bitter and chilling than ever. Clothing sagged and weighed down heavily, giving way to the powers of gravity. Even the sandals were now becoming soggy in the fast accumulating puddles. These puddles were very similar to the ones that have obscured and possibility of seeing through black, thick rimmed glasses.

Of course Aizen Sousuke, former Fifth Division Captain of the Soul Society’s Gotei 13, had more important things on his mind. He had appeared in this odd world as he wanted and had wandered the streets for a few hours. In these streets he had learned a very limited amount of information of the populace and had acquired a small silver box called an electronic journal. He had tinkered with the device for a short amount of time, purely to entertain himself, but now it rested in the deep pockets of damp clothing. In fact, it helped the cloth pull to the ground even more.

But the journal had come with a map, something that Aizen had thankfully stumbled upon though he was sure to discover it eventually. The map had told him of a place entitled Morem o Lisboa, a rather exquisite hotel… and also the nearest. The shinigami needed a place to get out of this rain as soon as possible so the hotel would have to suffice. He’d find a way to pay rent in some form or another. That was the thing furthest from his mind at the moment. Now, however, he was more concerned with the façade he planned on portraying. If what he assumed was correct, it was very possible that other shinigami of the Soul Society could be here along with Gin. Their reactions to his appearance would be all too easy to figure out. Aizen smirked slightly at this thought. They were always too predictable… but this plan would most certainly suffice… at least for now.

The ex-captain whipped the gathering droplets of rain from his glasses once again, removing an obscurity from his vision for at least a short period of time. Though this would be the last time Aizen would have to do such a thing as he found himself under the cover of Morem o Lisboa.

Well… it was certainly a… magnificent building. The shinigami decided it would grow on him though the architecture throughout the city seemed similar. It was just an adaptation he’d have to make after residing in Hueco Mundo for such a long period of time.

Still dripping with the wrath of the storm, Aizen pushed over the large hotel doors only to reveal something even he did not expect.

Right before him were two very familiar figures: Matsumoto Rangiku and Rukia Kuchiki. Both female shinigami seemed to be heading towards the same doors that Aizen had just entered through. Behind them was the bulky and rather hard to miss figure of Kenpachi Zaraki. The 11th Division Captain seemed to be well engaged in a quick paced battle with none other than Ichimaru Gin. Well, that was fast.

Aizen affixed his face with an expression of obvious surprise and well-feigned kind-heartedness. He appeared to be the exact thing that he had just thrown away. He had picked up his image of the kind, caring, innocent, and weak Captain Aizen Sousuke of the Fifth Division.

“Perhaps I have come for a room at the wrong time…” Aizen announced quietly.

Ran's eyes widened as the light of the hotel lobby illuminated the figure in the doorway. Nevermind that the eyes looked kind or that the expression on his face was one that had once charmed and disarmed many a shinigami-to-be still under the care of the academy.

As far as this shinigami was concered -- there in the door way was the man who'd turned Soul Society upside-down.

She saw red.

"AIZEN!!!" Ran roared, unsheathing Haineko from her hip and flinging herself and her zanpakutou towards the ex-captian.

Shinsou's blade drew back in at his command just as Kenpachi started charging full force towards the smaller ex-captain. Gin's reiatsu flared up, the pressure crackling in the air. In the Soul Society, such force would've had the weaker chairs on the ground. But here in Paixao, it didn't even feel like it existed. There was an expression vaguely reminiscient of a smirk on his lips now, even as the jagged blade of Zaraki's zanpakutou came slashing down. He sidestepped quickly, barely dodging the tip as it scratched along his chest. It hadn't caused anything serious, but it did draw blood.

Crimson was just beginning to bloom on the edge of his whiet outercoat when a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

No. Anyone but him.

Gin's eyes snapped open, a haggard expression on his face as he watched Ran charge for Aizen. She was going to die against the 5th Division's ex-captain. No, she couldn't, because she was part of the deal. Lose her, and Aizen would lose Gin. Not that Ichimaru was particularly attached at this moment anyhow. Green eyes darted around the room, his mind reeling with what to do.

"Maa, looks like our figh' will haveta wait, Zaraki~" Gin used a flashstep to appear right in front the attacking Ran, now standing between Aizen and she. Shinsou met Haineko, and the steel rang out in an almost painful screech. He stared at her, eyes almost pleading for her not to try that again. As much as she was passionate about killing the traitor, Aizen Sousuke, she was no match.

Gin would not see her die tonight.

((Arharhar. I wanted to keep fighting, but it looks like Aizen went and ruined it. >D Perhaps a different kind of fight will resume?))

Everything had happened so fast, Rukia barely had enough sense to keep up with it all. It was strange, one moment she was sitting peacefully on the couch awaiting Ichigo's imminent arrival with Zaraki Kenpachi and now she was in the midst of a complicated situation which was getting more and more complicated by the second.

Rukia barely heard Ran as she pulled her away from the captains but she gave a brief nod anyway to confirm the vice-captain's idea. "Right." She stated, following Ran towards the two doors, her hand resting upon Sode no Shirayuki as she skirted the fight. She watched as Kenpachi took a hit from Gin, blood issuing from his calf and Gin, in turn, receiving a tear across his chest; Rukia turned to face forward again...

..only to see none other than Aizen standing near the doorway. The raven-haired shinigami skidded to a stop, blinking a few times in shock before regaining her composure at Ran's sudden roar of anger. Her gaze immediatly locked on the Vice-Captain and Rukia tried to grasp the back of her robes but the attempt was in vain. "Matsumoto-san, don't!" Rukia shouted.

It was as if the inside of her head, the space between her ears was hollow -- she could hear her breathing, could feel the erratic rhythm of her heart -- and as the opposing forces -- hers and Gin's -- remained steady as Shinsou pressed against a defiant Haineko, her forearms trembled as did her knees.

First Gin, now Aizen...

Now this.

Her own blue eyes met green and she swallowed hard, cold sweat breaking out over her skin, the chill trickling down the side of her face. The blood on his clothes, the deep red of it against his pale skin made her think of a corpse and nevermind that she was angry at him, nevermind that they'd grown apart all these years --

He was still Gin, and kami help her he still mattered to her in the end.

"Get out of the way Gin." She hissed between clenched teeth, her weight moving from balanced between both feet to heavily forward on her front leg. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Zaraki-taicho! Rukia-san!" She shouted to the two behind her, though really, she knew deep down that the 11th Division Captain didn't need her giving orders to move.

Aizen’s face affixed itself with yet more surprise at the sudden reactions of the shinigami. He appeared to be very taken aback and entirely confused by the hostility towards him. His hand warily found its way to the hilt of Kyouka Suigetsu but it seemed such action would not be needed. Gin had created a wall between him and the enraged Matsumoto.

The inner Aizen’s face sprawled with the proudest smirk one could think of. Of course Gin would come to his side… that was to be expected. Though he was a little surprised at the speed an immediate decision to do so. The ex-captain was fully aware of the relationship between the two shinigami and knowing Gin, he would make any attempt to rebuild it. This most certainly wouldn’t help that attempt.

Of course not one person in the world could have realized the true feelings of Aizen. He was the master of illusion; everything appeared how he wanted it to. The deceptive shinigami instead stood with a look of horror with the battle unfolding before him.

“Oh no!” he yelled, rushing forward with still soaking clothes. “Please, put your swords away!” Aizen passionately waved his hands above his head for a moment scattering the waters of the sky unto the floor.

He appeared beside the two shinigami with an appearing look of true worry in those kind, golden eyes. With what seemed to be true concern and the same feigned worry he asked, “Why are you fighting?”

He wasn't quite sure why, but the corridor seemed infinitely long. Even the door to the stairs was uncooperative, jamming itself for a grand total of five minutes and twenty four seconds before the boy got frustrated enough to kick it in. As the wood gave way, he felt it again.

That same presence. The one that was like a Hollow's, almost exactly like it; but at the same time, not.

Instantly on the alert, Ichigo's eyes darted about the seemingly empty stairwell, catching a glimpse of- what was that, white? Silver? It practically blended seamlessly with the whitewashed walls and moved so fast that it would've gone completely unnoticed had he not been keeping a lookout for it- meaning it probably had to be somewhat translucent.

Even as the boy recalled the creepy catlike thing from his room almost a week before, another one appeared; only this time it was almost entirely transparent and almost as tall as he was. As the substitute shinigami stood there, transfixed like a deer in headlights, the creature drifted quietly from one wall and disappeared before it ran into the other.

After what seemed like an hour or so afterward even though he was well aware it had only been ten to fifteen minutes at most, the presence faded and something else more familiar took over- Reiatsu.

Of more than just two or three shinigami.

Ichigo rushed down the stairs even as Matsumoto's voice came echoing into the passageway, coming to a halt just before the exit. From where he was, the boy could see the blonde fukutaichou and from her shout, knew that both Rukia and Zaraki were nearby, just out of his range of sight. That was all fine, no surprises there. What he didn't expect to see were two tall figures that had on the taichou's haoris, one of whom had his sword drawn. The boy recognized that grin on the first man anywhere. The other behind him was just as recognizable as the first, after all, Ichigo wouldn't have forgotten the face of that traitor that easily. Ichimaru Gin and Sousuke Aizen. In a split second he was out of his body again, hand on Zangetsu's hilt and wasting no time in swiftly making his way towards both of them.

He had a score to settle with these two, and hell be damned if it didn't get done tonight.

((ooc: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!! *flailspazdie*))

The grin that blossomed on Kenpachi's face was utterly terrifying to behold, even as things got quite nasty - he'd told the lot of them not to interfere! But this development was horribly delicious. Kenpachi couldn't help but cackle like a lunatic the minute the former Captain stepped into the hotel.

"Well well well. Aizen and Ichimaru." He drew himself up tall and proud, the pinpoint speck that seemed to be the black of his eye nearly twitching under the strain of his manic gaze. "Two f' the price of one. Spectacular." The huge nameless sword that was the 11th Division Captain's zanpakutou drug along the ground, carving a gash in the wood as he drew it from his side to point it at Aizen.

"Considerin' I'm the only Captain 'round here, well, I guess this is where I give the order to attack." The bells in his hair shook like raindrops as he barked another long cackle. "Just a warnin' though. Stay the hell outta my way." Spiritual power flaring with the sound of a match being lit, Kenpachi lunged, his laughter escalating to a shrieking pitch.

A look of what could be akin to disgust was showing on Gin's face. Not much really bothered the ex-captain for him to get to that point, but this time as certainly different. Aizen was acting like he didn't know what was happening, a feigned worried look on his softened features. Ran was looking at him, hatred blazng in her blue eyes. The ryoka boy had finally shown up (such perfect timing really, no more hell could possibly be loosed in this godforsaken lobby.) And Kenpachi-taicho's grin looked just like it was going to split his face, just as his zapakutou would do to Aizen if the bespectacled man didn't move.

The world was falling down around their ears.

So Gin stepped aside, breaking the hold between Haineko and Shinsou. The steel scraped lightly against the edges. He grabbed her wrist tightly, seeing as how Zaraki was charging right for them, pulling her and himself out of the doorway of the Morem o Lisboa lobby. Pouring rain met the pair... it would only be a matter of seconds before they were soaked straight through. Words were trying to force their way out of his mouth, but with no success. Aizen complicated things that were already part of an elaborate game. It would be tough getting out of this one.

"We shoul' move 'way from the 'otel."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his and in a heartbeat Ran wrenched her wrist from Gin's grasp just as forcefully. "Unlike you, I don't turn tail and run when people need me." She hissed sharply, turning her body and making the move to head back inside.

(no subject)

shootxtoxdeath.livejournal.com - 2006-04-24 23:36 (UTC) - Expand

Pull the fight away from the hotel.

She glanced back at Gin and regarded him for several heartbeats as the rain continued to pour down in buckets. Pull the fight away from the hotel. She hated to admit it, but he had a point.

The shinigami narrowed her eyes and expelled a breath. "Well Gin," she stated with bland sarcasm, "I give you points for actually sounding concerned." She flash-stepped just inside the door and inhaled deeply as she looked around, and decided that while she might not necessrily get through to Zaraki, at least Kurosaki might be cooperative: "TAICHO! KUROSAKI-KUN!" She waved her hand in a huge arc above her head -- the gesture motioning that they take it outside.

But whether the boy and captain noticed this or not, she couldn't be sure, so she turned to Rukia and she hissed to the girl, worry in her voice. "Help me get them outside." Her voice sounded a little more strangled than she'd wanted it to be, but there was no time for that now.

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