#bazzardburner

Florida swamp heat was seriously putting a damper on Giselle’s whole vibe. 

The sticky weather was not something she could ever get accustomed to and vehemently avoided, situating herself more closely to the cooler grey parts of the world. Even with her hair cut into a black bob to her shoulders, and blonde bangs pinned up out of her face, she felt the trickle of sweat form along her forehead, making her scowl at any families that crossed her path. ‘The Happiest Place On Earth!’ Not if Giselle had anything to say about it. 

Despite her annoyance, she couldn’t quite argue against Bazz-B’s logic for this location. Avoiding the more concealed and shady places where they could easily be over heard in favour of the hustle and bustle chaos of an amusement park, where they could try to blend in as seamlessly as they had managed to do for a year since their departure from the Sternritter. A whole year could make the world of difference, Giselle’s not even too certain if he could recognise her, her stark white uniform swapped for a cutesy gothic look and her height a good few inches taller with the help of chunky black creepers. Even he could come out looking like a dishevelled woodsman, or a disgusting hipster, or even worst, bald. 

Just as she was mulling over why she had come to such a stuffy hellhole, she lifted her head eyes closed, sensing the faintest spiritual pressure peak out over the crowds of people, that same spiritual pressure she had come to know from the first day they met. The scent of singed hair and dying smoke from a fireplace, a burning heat that made your eyes water and lungs choke. She turns, and immediately wrinkles her nose in disgust, watching Bazz-B approach.

“Oh god.” Giselle says.

With her apron folded neatly and stowed away in her messenger bag for some later mending (and adding a few extra ruffles —it seemed like Ishida’s taste was rubbing off onto her after all these years), Orihime snagged her umbrella from beside the door before bidding her manager a final farewell and stepping out into the overcast evening. Overhead, a streetlight flickered dimly in protest of the encroaching nightfall, bathing the empty street in an eerie glow.

Mundane on any other night, but it wasn’t part of her routine to sense a Quincy’s reiryoku bristling in the secluded alley adjacent to her workplace. A vaguely familiar scent, she noticed at first, tickling her nostrils almost painfully with the way it seemed to bristle; seemed to burn. And despite spending the last hour or so of her shift trying to place just who she was recognizing, Orihime continued to draw a blank. And if she was aware of them, odds were, they were aware of her too.

Her feet stopped just beyond the entrance to the alley, the streetlight casting her shadow long and imposing down the narrow space. Ginger brow pinched delicately in concern, she peered into the darkness for a moment before picking out an imposing silhouette. She could almost hear Ichigo gently chiding her to be cautious. But Kurosaki-kun, she’d press back, if they were going to make a move, surely they would’ve by now. What good did it do, to assume the worst in people based on circumstances outside of their control?

@bazzardburner​ hit the 💚 

Questions for the Mun!

🎼 - What’s your favorite song?

//Oo, that’s tough honestly. I have a lot!

//But, I think, right now, its Hollowness by Minami