Sharp eyes, sharper tongue, but what of the heart...?

even if he isn’t on a job, she still has a reason not to trust him. she’s seen what he can do first hand, and even if she had been the reason he abandoned the job, he’s still a liability. she refuses to let anyone get in the way of her crew’s safety, they’re fully capable of handling themselves, yes, but still…

“I’ll consider the fact that you remembered me enough to know that as a compliment.” He chuckles only this side of snide, his arms lowering slightly; he’s not going for anything, truth be told, and he knows that just one set of hands disappearing doesn’t mean anything for his safety—really, doesn’t mean anything safe at all—but he isn’t sacrificing his comfort just because he’s in a bind.

“And, well, truth be told—I’m a forgetful guy, so it’d be nice to get some slack on that front.” He continues on, laughing without humour. “Though I’ve gotta admit that, all this time, I figured you might show me a little bit’a kindness after I spared your life. Kinda hurts a guy to see otherwise, I’ll be honest.”

That is, of course, not at all how things went, but he’s never one to keep from a little playing around. He’s not scared of her, per se; it’s something more like being wary.

Not that he’s gonna make that any more apparent than he did by giving up on the job.

“Don’t lemme stop you from trying, but, hey; killing an innocent man—well, innocent on this front, since I can’t exactly lie here—for shit he isn’t doing doesn’t exactly scream ‘a different path in life’ for you, yanno.”

For better or worse, this really is just a coincidental meeting; plenty of people want the heads of every Straw Hat, sure, but he’s not that stupid. Even less is he stupid enough to take on a woman he didn’t beat to begin with.

“I take back what I said earlier, too, ‘cause not even sparing me some belief is much more painful than anything else.”

With a lift of his chin, amusement on his tongue, he says, “Is it really so hard to believe this is all chance?” Of course it is. “That I’m really just here to pass through, and not anything else?”

“  i knew i'd find you here. ” it's been over a decade since their last encounter, but the anger, the hatred he feels for the man before him is still present. it's something he doesn't think will ever go away, and if he weren't here for something important, he might've backed off entirely. or tried to kill him again, if there wasn't something or someone stopping him. “  a pachinko parlor is really classy, you know. and the fact that i found you in the first one i entered is kind of sad. ” you could blame the six eyes for that, but still.

he sits himself on the chair next to toji's, practically inviting himself. “  wipe that look off your face, i'm not here for trouble. i just want to talk to you... about something important. about your son. ”

There’s not a damn thing in the world that could’ve prepared him to that, though.

“...let’s pump some brakes here, first off.” He starts, trying—and failing kinda miserably, Damn it—at trying to keep the utter surprise and a little bit of fear off of his face. There’s no way he could know—no way he should know—that that’s...

“Actually, matter of fact, let’s get back to you looking for me, ‘cause we sure as hell glossed over that way too quick.” Because he did a damned good job hiding his tracks. He’d thought he’d been doing a damn good job at keeping them hidden, too.

...he knows full-well that this brat’d never come looking for him just for nothing, though. And coupled with the reason he’s even been in town all this time...

“I thought you were in a box.” He manages to just hold a seethe back, but his voice is no less harsh as he speaks. “It was big news; the Gojou Satoru, locked up and outta commission while Jujutsu Society suffered mass casualties. While everyone did.”

Not that the latter (or even the former, really) matter too much to him, but he can’t say anything else for his own sanity. Distantly, he knows better—knows he shouldn’t let anyone know anything about how his kids make him feel—but he’s here to talk about his kid.

...it should be his kids, really.

“Where are they?”

Are they alright?

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋, 𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 .ᐟ please ♡ or ↺ if you'd be interested in interacting with #aeonspath, a multimuse for honkai: star rail! ⇀ this blog is critical of hoyoverse and follows back from dialhearts.

Naturally, he's also going to be getting comfortable clothing and some items to help keep him safe at work--even if it is something small as a protective charm.

The man is going to also get lots of attention and kisses. He may be a blockhead but he's hers.

She’s got’im at just being his wife, so honestly, all this is just icing on the cake.

...he’s totally not hiding a rose and several boxes of chocolates behind his back, though. Totally.

Fuck Starrk.

This cocky little shit, has always been on his shit list, he wants nothing at all to do with him, nothing at all, but he was the best, he was the greatest, he held the top title above them all and that was something that eats away at him, all the time, to know he was not even second to someone like Starrk.

Fuck he was not even third.

He was so far down the line, that Starrk would not even waste his time with him, he hated it, he hated that feeling, that everything he had done, was for nothing. He was not born strong like Starrk, created to be the best, he earned this power, the old way, through hard work, grit and pure determination, every single step of the way, every single struggle and challenge, he has pushed ahead to make it, and here was Starrk. The best of them, and yet what has he ever done to prove his worth.

“You think you can defeat me so easily.” That numbers and titles mean anything to him, that strength alone would end a battle, he rolled his eyes. “You are a disgrace to our kind.”

He laid it at the feet of Starrk himself, that he didn’t deserve to hold the title of the strongest, that he didn’t deserve to be the one above all others, and the insults keep fucking flying, as if Starrk wishes to cut him down to shreds before they even fight one another, as his eye twitches for the moment at the fact that Starrk had the pure balls to say to him, that there would be no contest between them.

“You have no idea, what I am able to do.”

None, Starrk didn’t know shit, all fair and game, to sit in his chair and sleep all day with his thumb up his ass, looking down on everyone from his tower, that was all fine for someone like Starrk, but he has forgotten what he was, were he came from, that he had once been like them all, mere bugs to the eyes of the world, running around in the sands and the waste, all of them trying to have some sort of life, he hated all of this, he hated what they had become and he hated the fact they served some bullshit leader, who cared nothing for them.

“Your no leader, that girl is, but you, your nothing.

But even with the blood boiling within him, the Sexta’s voice remains calm, almost nonchalant, as he speaks. “If you’re so convinced that I’m just going to let this go, then why even entertain me? What’s the point in showing me all this power if you’re just going to stand here and talk?” As he hummed softly.

He could feel it, it was not hard to sense it, just how strong Starrk was, just how much power was resting there. He already knew himself, Starrk would crush him, easily as well, but he was never going to improve, he was never going to become stronger, he was never going to move up in the world, if he never took the steps forward, he was no coward.

“I agree with you on more than one point.” Chief among them the fact that he has no clue what Grimmjow can do—not really. His potential is unfulfilled just as much as anyone else’s is. “Though, my ability—or lack thereof—aside, it’s of no insult to me to say Lilynette’s better about it. Certainly when it comes to the Arrancar like yourself, it’s no shock you consider her that way.”

There’s really no way for this to go; he’s passive to Grimmjow’s insistence to act, and that creates its own impasse. Besides; “I’ve never said you’d let it go, either; it would be smarter to, admittedly, but what you do is what you do. Though, if I were to be honest...”

His honesty could be costly, but Starrk only hesitates for a moment: “It’s by my power alone that I can stand here and just talk, you know. At least, that’s how I view things.”

‘Showing’ power, here, is subjective as it is—if he personally, truly wanted to show his power, this conversation would’ve already been exchanged for battle, just as Grimmjow was wanting. It’s just a matter of who they both are as two individuals, different to their cores.

“How you need to prove yourself to yourself isn’t something I have to agree to being involved in.” He continues on (though this isn’t much different from what he’s already said, already). “If you truly want to test your own mettle, anyway, you ought to start in order; from Quinto—Nnoitra—and up.”

And while this goes against what he’s said already re:infighting, it’s only reasonable that he brings it up, he feels like; because, really, has Grimmjow gone to the other Espada for something like this already? He’s sure he’d have heard of it (especially from those like Harribel and Ulquiorra), but if Grimmjow has gone past them just to get to him first...

“What!” She snapped, she was not wishing for another little lecture he had all lined up for her, why would he fight her on this, that old prick walked around like he was the king and even worse, people believed he was the strongest of them all.

He was not going to budge then it seemed, his mind has been made up on the matter, as she pouted. That was not a good thing, not at all, his place and his rank was being questioned, by someone who had lost there crown, there throne, there entire army. That idiot was not her king, she would not kneel to him nor would she ever serve him as well, she had no interest in doing such a thing, none at all and yet here he was, trying to keep the peace, why?

When the other does everything in his power to throw it right into there faces at each and every single time he had and it was only a matter of time until he would try and kill them and take the title of the best of them for himself, if he has not done it already, he was truly plotting it, it was there nature at the end, as she wanted to remind him, he was nothing more than a weakling, a king without a crown, was a laughable thing, as she had replaced his crown, with paper, crayons drawn on it to give it gold, poorly as well.

As she jumped onto his back and would wrap her arms and legs around him tightly, to ensure he would not and he could not shake her off and leave her behind.

“Someone has to keep things going.” She said as she would smack him in the back of the head lightly. “Tsh, you can be so dumb at times!”

As he proved himself to be, what he was, the strongest of them all, a true leader and a real king as he put everything back into order and brought them back in no time at all, as she would quickly jump off his back and land onto the ground and dash across there chamber floor into her corner, moving through the endless pillows and blankets and throwing them madly all around herself, as her little hands wrap around the handle, as she drags the double-headed battleaxe out from her hiding place, the blade carving through the floor, as she strains, putting her back into it as she drags the double-headed battleaxe right across the floor as she lets it go and it drops down, thudding onto the ground, making everything clatter around the chamber and having her bounce up into the air.

“You never said anything about his double-headed battleaxe!”

She said as she thumbed her nose and looked, really pleased with herself! Yes, she had pinched the crown, but also his weapon as well, he can have the crown, but she was keeping the double-headed battleaxe, and if the false king wanted it back, he can just try as she would grab the handle again, lift it up into the air and lean it back onto her shoulder, but the weight, had her falling right back onto the ground.

Falling over and crashing as the double-headed battleaxe sways and lands onto her, the massive handle pinning her down onto the ground as her arms and legs, wave in the air madly.

Is that how you see it? He thinks. “Mm.” He hums. It doesn’t bother him—the retaliation, the questioning. It was part of the beauty in their being two separate, different beings (insofar as their personalities, thoughts, and mannerisms went, at least), if nothing else; though, as the ‘elder’ of them both, it was also his only half self-appointed job to maintain a balance among themselves and the others. Lord Aizen had given them the rank of Primera for a few reasons, he’s sure, and not all of them were offensive strength alone; thus, he did not act on the offensive alone on principle.

(Something about Lilynette taking on that part of their nature is mildly amusing, but Starrk lets the thought fade. Again: If nothing else, it’s just the beauty of their differences.)

...the sight of the Segunda’s battle-axe, though, upon their immediate return back to their own room (no one was within the other’s palace; he doesn’t think about it, as there isn’t much need to) does fray at his patience, he has to admit.

“Hey,” he starts, first, as he resists the growing urge to pinch the bridge of his nose (it’ll only goad her on), “when did you even find the time to hide...?”

Well, there’s nothing to say he didn’t see that coming, but he’s not pleased that it’s happened all the same. In a moment, he’s already crossed the room and is lifting the weapon with ease—with one hand—as he looks down sharply at his other half.

(He’s fairly sure beauty isn’t always a good thing—)

“Moron. This is exactly why you shouldn’t go around doing as you please; one way or another, it always creates a bigger problem than it’s worth.”

And yet, even as he chastises her, he’s much more concerned than he is outright angry; even with his ease at carrying it, the axe is a weighty thing. Barragan’s much larger than them both, with the muscles to make up for it, and they’re both used to a normal katana in comparison to this thing; really, the real impressive feat here is how she’d managed to bring the damn thing over from his palace (or wherever else he kept it when not in use) in the first place.

“C’mon.” With his free hand extended out, he’s already leaning down and reaching out for her. “Since we have to find a way to put this back, now, too...”

Theres a large bloody spot forming on his sides as he speaks, Cao Zhang is very non reactive towards his own faults. after all its not his fault that the enemy was simply that strong, it was his fault that he wasn't good enough. the motivation to keep training, rises.

"It was a matter of being careless, my body would heal itself faster if I simply eat more."

Nom nom.

"But if you insist, I will sit."

‘It’s fine’, he says, and he’s most assuredly the only one thinking so!! “I’d be far more inclined to agree if you weren’t currently bleeding...!”

And forget ‘careless’, it was just plain reckless! Even if it is the fate of gallant young men to ignore their injuries at every turn, for healers (and hypocrites) like Hendrickson himself, this was no small matter! Once again gesturing the man into the nearby chair—though this time he’s turning towards him, as well, should he choose to forgo his own word—Hendrickson hastens his pace with the other injured man; there isn’t much left to do but re-dress his wounds, as he’s been working on the man as he and the other spoke, but he can afford to be neither inefficient nor slow with either one...!