#weavinghands

His gaze is level, calculating even. Byakuya silently observes her. Slate eyes narrow. He regards her with respect, dignity, but there was no denying the unease he felt being within her presence. Her very aura reminding him of a demonic spider.

❝I desire the power to be able to protect my pride. I was informed you may be able to help me fortify my understanding of my zanpakuto. ❞

" Pardon me, I must have forgotten my manners. "

Can only truly blame this wicked ghost to skip all the insignificant formalities? It had been too long since anyone seemed to care about such things. Dare he say it was refreshing to see such stringent attitudes remain well and thriving.

@weavinghands

Of all the things that Kira had ever seen in his future, he couldn't say being sent up to the Soul King's Palace had ever even been one of those things. And yet, here he was, standing there waiting on the tenchuren to take him up there. It seemed that the way his body had reacted to the hollowfication pills had been unexpected and it had been decided the Zero Squad were more suited to figuring it out.

The glove he wore fit pretty decently, but the material still slipped and moved leaving him uncomfortable pretty much all the time. Captain Unohana had expressed a concern of doing damage if she tried to make the glove more stable, so she'd asked the Great Weave Guard for assistance. After all, discomfort lead to distraction and distraction was not good when one needed to be able to command their men.

Kira couldn't help the way he was fidgeting, the fingers of his left hand tracing every bump on the hilt of his Zanpaktou while his right hand clenched and released next to his thigh. Waiting had never been his strong suit; it left too much room for 'what if's' and 'maybe's'.

He didn't like being STUDIED. Looked at like he was some kinda object. Like he wasn't dangerous. As if he wasn't a wild animal who could rip you to shreds at any given moment. But - it was okay. Right now it was okay, because of her multiple arms. He knew she wasn't his kin. Could tell from heir reiatsu, nevermind how he was sure he didn't have any kin in the whole world. In any of the worlds. Still, he didn't attack her. He pretended like maybe - maybe - they had something in common. If only the multiple arms.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ Nor, are they ... ❞

The commonality, only ; cruelty. The Old Gods, as they were, knew not kindness, at the best of times. Callousness, anger, vengeance ... these were things they knew well, they were well rehearsed in. Just as her Lord of the past, recent, had been.

Aizen was not revered as a God ; but he was close. The closest she had met to touch the heavens, fingertips merely gracing it before his capture. Perhaps, this spindly weaver was right. Not every God need be the same, but adjusting to those that were not ...