#vucto

Grimmjow’s boots barely brush the pavement, footsteps completely silent, and  hands are folded loosely in his pockets. Every inch the image of relaxed, even as he stalks his current prey. Though the man is physically large, taller and broader at the shoulders then himself and military trained, if Grimmjow were to guess from his posture, he can’t sense more then a thin trace of reiastu from him, nothing that would indicate he is any sort of threat to Grimmjow.

There is even less to suggest that he is a person of interest to Kisuke. But at this point in their relationship, if Kisuke asks for something, Grimmjow is pretty quick to provide. Menial labor, in this case, stalking and detaining tall-buff-and-grey, in exchange for food and a place to crash some night. It’s an easy task, but Grimmjow is going to be annoyed about it if he has to go back to the shoten and collect the gigai. He fucking hates cramming himself into that thing.

             It was a normal day like any other. She woke up, Dakota put the coffee on, they had breakfast and went about their usual days. She wasn’t the one opening the shop today because she needed to go to the nursing home for her part-time shift as a care taker. It was easier there, the elderly folk were undeniably adorable and kind and she enjoyed spending time with them. When she’d gotten back, Dakota had to leave for his part-time shift with the cleaning service so they caught up shortly over lunch and again, went about their usual days. So why had it ended up like this? Her heart was stuttering in her chest as she found herself staring down the barrel of a loaded handgun and her words wouldn’t come out. What was going on? Why were they here? At first she thought maybe it was another incident like the past but with a different weapon this time around. 

It wasn’t though. She was being instructed to stand away from the registers. So it was a simple robbery? Somehow she felt relieved. So long as she did nothing and said nothing, it would be fine. The shop was doing well so losing a day’s profit wouldn’t hurt. They didn’t have a safe and everything was kept in banking, so it really wouldn’t be a problem. Except when she glanced up and saw the clock. Immediately her heart lunged into her throat. This was about the time Kuron came to visit. In that instance she was hyper-aware of everything that was happening. The click of the hammer, the yelled instructions to not move even though she was beginning to fidget-- what was she going to do if he showed up here? 

What would he do if he saw this? He’d probably try to jump in, right? No, she couldn’t let that happen. Charlie didn’t want him to get hurt. She couldn’t let him get hurt. Not over something like this. Her frame shifted a little more,”I’m j-just standing i-in front of th-the door so no o-one sees, okay?” Her hands are kept up, there’s no obvious signs but they’re getting even more disgruntled with her actions. “Y-You can really t-take it, its f-fine. I d-don’t want any u-unnecessary trouble. It’d b-be even m-more of a p-pain if police w-were involved. I’m t-too anxious t-to deal with th-them, really.” She’s trying rationality but where was the rationality in a small time robbery? These guys probably hit up the first place that looked convenient. What was easier than a shop with only one very small girl standing in it? 

What she was trying to do was block the door and make it impossible to get in without breaking it at least. Though somewhere in her thoughts, she figured if anyone could, it’d be him. Still, she just kept bowing her head and keeping her hands up when shouted and cursed at. Something she was used to yet still terrified her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe when she saw that familiar figure out of the corner of her widened eyes. No no no, go back, please go back. Her breath hitches and she swiftly locks the door while they’re focusing on each other and the task at hand. Good, he can’t get in. That was the simplest solution in her mind. Make sure he can’t get in and give directions for them to leave out the back instead. 

Except-- why was one already staring her down like he already knew what she was doing? She clenched her jaw and waited a few seconds until she heard those words. What? Ya expectin’ somebody, sweetheart? In an instant, her demeanor shifted at that cretinous voice. She lowered her body just a bit, brows furrowed and determination on her features. When it came to bravery, Charlie was the least likely to have it-- unless someone she cared for was in harm’s way. If they were? She’d go through hell itself to keep them safe. “Y-Yes and y-you should g-go now.” There’s a cackle in the air and it grates her nerves, chills her spine. This isn’t going to end well, she thinks. Because now they’re confident-- no, they’re arrogant. Anyone could hold a gun but only the true idiots got cocky with it. 

“P-Please go, out th-the back,” she’s not paying attention to anything else now. Her frame blocking the door, fingertips flexing slightly as she tries to calm herself down as much as she can. She’s already calculated the most plausible thing she can do if it comes down to it, strategy was her forte even if she didn’t realize it most of the time. Her constant need to escape made her quite the strategist and right now she was trying to apply that to this situation but instead of escape-- she was trying to get rid of them before anything could happen to him. Teal hues dart between them and she goes over every second they’d been here. Only two were carrying long range weapons and one was carrying a blade. No matter how much one planned though, you could never really plan for every variable with unpredictable and egotistical opponents. 

We're not done yet, so no. Her heart thrums violently in its ivory cage and she clenches her teeth,”I’ll h-have to insist.” It happens in a flash. Somehow its not as bad as she thought it might’ve been. Perhaps because it happened so quickly. Her back hit the door and it took a long few minutes for her to even realize what had happened. Red splashed across the floors and her first thought was having to clean that up later. Her second was wondering where it came from. Her third was a realization that it came from the bullet that seared through her right ribs. The wind was knocked out of her, she needs to remember to breathe throughout the panicked shouts of the idiots in front of her. Why’d ya go and do that for ya fucking moron?! Robbin’ ‘er was one thing but murder ain’t somethin’ I’m gonna do time for! 

Ah, so they really were morons, she thinks. Her legs feel heavy. Or was that her arms? She’s not sure when she ends up sliding downwards to the floor. Her first instinct isn’t to check herself though but instead, to check the glass behind her and make sure the bullet hadn’t gone through. Luckily, it hadn’t. A quick assessment, it must’ve been stopped by hitting one of her bones. Right. She’ll have to fix that later. Her breaths are hitching but it doesn’t matter, it didn’t go through, that’s all she cares about. She barely even hears the panicked footsteps and closes her eyes to try to find some focus. Adrenaline is her best friend, really-- she lived with it constantly so she barely felt a thing right now. That didn’t ease up the tension in her spine nor the weight of her limbs though. 

There’s also always so much potential in plotting between two muses who originate from the same character!

I don’t really know where I was going with this... just... I love duplicates!

I’m shouting out some of my favorite duplicates underneath the cut.  Feel free to do the same!  Lets make this a circle of Duplicate love.

“So, Short Stack.” Aimee drawls out as she walks up to him with a bottle a whiskey in her hand. “You look like you could use a drink and it just so happens that I’ll share with you if you’d like.”

   “Another headache?” 

Hunk inquired; turning towards him with a concerned look flashed across his face. Hunk wasn’t a medic but he could hopefully give him some medicine to ease the pain even if it was just for a little while, “This is the fourth time this week. Are you sure you don’t want see anyone about it?”

             The Garrison got stuffy after a while, she’d admit being surrounded by so many people in close quarters could occasionally drive her up the walls and escaping while she still had her patience was always necessary. So she’d informed the others she’d be taking a day’s break and to get along without her or she’d ruin their lives (per usual) before practically bolting. There were still a lot of things she’d yet to see of Earth after all and for that, she figured some exploration was due. In short, she was searching for animals and overly delighted about it. What she wasn’t expecting to see was a semi-familiar structure. 

The style of attire was a bit different and when she got a better look at him-- She discovered those impulses were a little different as well. The electrical mapping of the arm wasn’t the same and she hummed with curiosity. The same and yet, not the same at all. So who was he? She’d heard of the exploits concerning cloning and the like but she wasn’t sure about much else given she didn’t care in the slightest. It was an event that transpired and she only needed to know the medical points of it in order to properly treat the man. Though she would admit that her curiosity was getting the better of her and her little paw-like feet were already closing the gap to get to the bottom of it. 

             The looks weren’t anything new, but they were more intense than they used to be. He couldn’t blame them. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans and he’s simply wandering around after a rumor or two. He looks different now, doesn’t he? But I just saw him last week. Words had filtered through his mind and he wondered what they were all about. It wouldn’t be good if he didn’t investigate such things. (Rumors held a grain of truth after all.) Still, he wasn’t expecting what he found. A shop that mastered both flora and sweets? Alright, he’d admit he was curious-- but what made him all the more shocked was who he saw approaching it. If it weren’t for Shiro’s current condition and appearance, this man would look just the same. His heart lurched in his chest. Another clone? Had one managed to escape-- no. 

No something was different here. A sense, a feeling-- he knew this one. Knew not in a personal sense but knew him from when he was in the Astral plane. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t the same one, he didn’t die-- he didn’t die. There had not been a moment in his life where he had ever felt so thankful for something. He doesn’t even find it in himself to hesitate. Despite his sharp teeth, a wide brimmed smile had turned his mouth and he reached out without hesitating about touching. The moment he did, he was certain. Absolute. This was the one he’d been trying to tell Lance about. This was the one he’d been trying so desperately to help from the veil. “It is you!” 

Happy words, happiness in general, were equally measured in his expression. Perhaps if he was any mushier, he would’ve cried. Alright, so maybe there was one glowing little bit of something in his eye. “You’re alright! Thank gods,” he felt so relieved. So thankful. He survived it. Although Shiro had no idea how, that hardly mattered. What mattered was that the other looked to be in good health and even happy when looking towards this curious shop. “I thought you’d died-- I was going out of my mind trying to think of ways to reach you from the astral plane to tell you what was going on but I couldn’t get through!” Any sane person would wonder why he’d even try to save a clone of himself let alone one that had initially been created by an evil witch of a person. 

             It was a bit odd, she thinks. How he’s always putting that glove on or adjusting it before he comes in. It looked like he already had a glove on, so why would he need another one? Still, she never really questioned it much. Not until she glanced over when something glinting caught her eye and saw it was none other than his arm. Immediately, the arrangement in hand clattered to the counter and she furrowed her brows. What happened? How long had it been like that? That had to be a prosthesis, right? Was it okay to ask him? She had so many questions in her head, she didn’t realize she was staring. Her heart was lodged in her throat and she soon found herself grabbing his hand to tug him upstairs. The good thing about their shop was that they lived above it as well-- and it wasn’t like she’d just outright ask him about it where it might be uncomfortable. 

Though she wagered it might make him uncomfortable either way. Still, she wanted to know. Was he okay? Was the party responsible still around? If they were she’d personally hunt their asses down and bite them if nothing else. She pulled him into the living room, turned on her heel and immediately went about pushing his sleeve up further to take a look. How far up did it go? Was it just his lower arm or was it the entirety of it? Was his shoulder okay? There were so many things she wanted to know because instinctively, she wanted to fix all of them. Her innate ability was reconstruction. Although he wasn’t aware of that and perhaps this might’ve seemed truly intrusive for it but right now her expression was a mix of concern and anger.