EGO SUM NIHIL

❝ Hooh      Seems that I am wrong, then. ❞

with every passing moment, our fair-haired dual wielder grew ever so curious of the sharp-tongue who stood before her. oceanic pearls flickered as she blinked, a softness in her gaze as lips upturned into an amused simper of sorts.

❝ You misunderstand !! I carry no belittlement when I say servant, It’s just a term, you see.. A servant is a summoned spirit, a powerful one that emanates strength and skill. Simply put, your aura gave off that impression, I didn’t mean to offend, eheh.. ❞

                                                                              ‘ i see. ’ 

in a BROAD sense ; she was not wholly incorrect. but to be labelled a SERVANT was to imply an inherent, if not forced subjugation that he no longer had any part of. with an army disbanded or lying in ruin, there was none to SERVE but himself -- even if that concept still remained a wholly foreign one. 

harmless, in total, she seemed -- but he had known better than to place any being under MISJUDGMENT,  his lesson well taught after disappearing without a trace into the void.  pallid lids close over teals as he exhales softly, hands seated comfortably in pockets.

an array of them, each espada differing vastly from the last ; yet, within the white-painted desert, TWO  managed to produce similar personalities. reserved, sharp and well spoken, hardly sociable.  yet, with this fact, came the dispute,  that they socialized with one another,  and near OFTEN at that.  

residing normally in sleeve, it’s foreign to see hand slip from white cloth to grasp his own. warm, against his skin is her own, slim digits sitting perfectly in the slots between his own. teal hues remain passive, near unblinking as he hums softly. BOLD,  to say the least. seldom did they touch each other outside  of the confines of his OWN quarters -- but, today something seemed to be different.  

‘ ... do not let others catch you. i imagine you would not hear the end of it.’  

he, himself, would suffer the same -- not by aizen’s hand, by those of his peers. seen as WEAK,  a fool in love ; yet,  companionship and the idea of love were completely separate entities, or so they were perceived as such.  for the time being, he would STAVE OFF careful examination as to what this relationship was ( if one could call it that ) and simply allow it to BE until it was no longer sustainable ; 

                        knowing himself, that would be sooner than one could think.

what did it mean ;  FEEL FOR YOU ?   feel what?  pity ? sympathy ? sorrow ? 

                      ‘  smile? ’  

so many he had seen, over the course of his ever-lasting AFTERLIFE;  so many fueled by greed, pettiness, violence,  yet none, not a SOLE amidst them, stood to be as genuine as her own. what would be gained from eliciting such a pure thing from him, of all creatures. he who possessed no joy,  no hatred, nothing whatsoever ?  what could POSSIBLY have her drawn to him in the way that she was,  to have her return day in and day out simply to speak ?  

        he could not imagine : he could not understand.   her demeanor's changed,  from a somewhat        chipper to a downed, near mournful one. pallid fingers reach, clasp around thin wrist to stop her        dead in tracks. lips part, but initially, there’s only silence, thick brows FURROWED. an action not        calculated, anticipated on his own behalf, but a pure, instinctual one. 

                       ‘ .. i did not ask you to leave, nor was i finished with you. ’ 

words come across cold, but, it was not intended. PITCH was softer, voice slightly mirroring an almost desperate  attempt to keep her in place.  ‘  ... tell me, girl, what is it about me. i am not like you. like your protector,  like any of your friends. i want to know. 

                        i truly, truly do.’  

WHAT of his demeanor begged for any shred of pity ?   perhaps large, sorrowful teals that seldom conveyed any shred of emotion, any bias, opinion -- perhaps it was voice that so rarely changed pitch, case being only in times of extreme DISTRESS.  other  than these two abnormalities, which would appeal always to the softer side of humanity, he could see no excuse for this act of comfort. gaze shifts only barely, enough to catch from the corner of eye, hand delicate on his tunic before it slides away. 

        WARM,  against chilled, pallid skin. fingers lace with his own thin set, but she remains wordless,         as if to match his demeanor.  for the first time, he does not PULL himself away from her, teals         instead sliding to gaze ‘pon all but her.  many would not dare dream of TOUCHING him, and         even fewer would dare engage ; but she, in all her mortality, held NO fear for him. once before         had she laid hand upon him, yet it had not been something so... soft. 

lips NEAR quiver into a small smile, obsidian upper curving oh so slightly. but at bay the sentiment is kept,  his only act being a gentle squeeze given to her flesh. foolish girl,  he can only think, do not treat me as you would one of your own. 

       Eyebrows quirked, arms crossed over her chest as the woman          glanced towards the strange man. He certainly held himself high         with those words. Kassandra hadn’t met someone like him before.         This will certainly prove interesting.                     ❝I’m called a great many of things. Keeper, is my newest                  one. Centuries ago I was called a misthios and an eagle bearer                 but those titles are long gone with the others.               How can I see you? I’m not sure. I’m almost certain, it is my              Staff. Or perhaps its my blood. I can never know for certain.❞

KEEPER ;  a name unknown to him, unheard of within the area he called home.   the title bore previous tastes foreign upon his tongue, and he can assume only that they DIFFER within geographical habitats -- fascinating,  if not slightly worrying.  her abilities had been, in this case, relatively UNKNOWN,  and though he came not looking for anything close to a fight, he had some shaken confidence that he could hold his ground should one occur. 

            still, for the time being, he would remain ever PASSIVE and observe ; above all else,             he could learn from another so different from himself. 

                    it was strange, having to be pulled by his presence so                     easily. at his question, orihime couldn’t really think of                     anything. somehow, somewhere deep within her soul,                     she felt guilty of his death. but does he needed to know                     that? perhaps, but she was not ready to share those.

                     so she stared at him, sweat forming on her temples,                       “i…i would just like to know how you have been doing.                       after being back, and all?”

 ‘  and of WHAT concern is it to you ? ’ 

       for what REASON she had gravitated back, he could not begin to ascertain.        his death had been a perceived PERMANENT,  pain fading to nothing as        body was reduced to dust. the idea of his visage lingering in her memory in        the SLIGHTEST was near enough to make him scoff. teals remain unblinking,        gaze lasting upon her figure. 

    Kassandra felt the corners of her lips twitch into a small smile, but       quickly returned to normal. Something about this man doesn’t seem        right, but she wasn’t sure just yet.                             ❝I do well disguising myself. I needn’t any                             attention drawn to me.                             Who are you, anyways?❞

                             ‘ MORE so than others ;                                         as for myself -- to some, nothing. to others, death.’    

spoken plainly, INFLECTION mirroring a vast indifference to the topic. his own self, what lingered of an identity, picked apart from an AMALGAMATION  of far too many, meant little to him.  he simply was.  of gods and of monsters, he simply was.