THE GREAT DESERT BROS!

     A look of surprise darts across her face the second she is yanked into the alcove. Head turns to face him, the expression of shock quickly fading into confusion, head tilts as she looks him the eye, head then turns to view the passing figure and at that moment she understood. Once it had vanished around the corner, once again she turns to face the other. A smile forms as fingers lace together. ❝ It’s fine, don’t worry about it. ❞

     ❝ I should be thanking you. ❞

"𝐎𝐇...𝐇𝐄𝐇...𝐈-𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆,𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘," he stammered, at a loss. It wasn’t every day he came face to face with one of the more 𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 members of their kind ------- and one that wasn’t immediately looking to rip his throat out, to boot. That he could tell, anyway. Which meant he better make the most of it! Swelling with faux confidence, Pesche offered her a smile of his own, bowing slightly. 

“Anything for a lovely lady such as yourself!” 

It was rare that Ulquiorra ever took a stroll around the remains of Las Noches, and rarer still for him to stroll by this part in particular. He had his reasons, of course, to vist the Former Tres’ residence, but if truth be told he wasn’t particularly eager to carry on with them. Ever since he rejoined the others, life had just been one hassle after another. And now he was confronted with one of her Fraccion. How utterly convenient that he could not sense her presence nearby at all. What a waste this walk had been.

Lost? Another one of his nonsensical games, no doubt. He continued to fix the other with his unblinking gaze.

“I don’t have time for games. Where is Nelliel?”

𝐘𝐄𝐏, 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑. Dondochakka squeaked, all but trembling under the Cuarto’s gaze. It was for Master Nelliel sake he pressed on, swallowing thickly before he answered. 

“S-She IS playing a game, though, Don’chya know? That’s why ya can’t sense her.” Of the three of them, he was the hide-and-go-seek 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙿, but Nel came in at a close second. Already he wandered the keep for hours, through abandoned wings and dilapidated halls, with no hint of her presence. It might be days till he found her --- which usually made for a fun game! That is, until someone like Ulquiorra decided to breathe down his neck

"𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘? I told you it was loud here!” Though not quite so loud as one large, sobbing, purple worm. Exasperated, Pesche did all he could to coax the beast off the street, yet Bawabawa refused to move, too busy crying every time a car passed through his incorporeal body. Fortunately for the two of them,  the humans on the sidewalk paid them no more mind than the cars did, rushing two and fro on whatever business kept humans busy. All except one. Starting when he saw her, the 41st raised his voice to be heard over Bawabawa’s wailing. 

“P-Princesa! Good to see you! We’re not in the way, are we?” 

“Brrr! Brrth! Brra! Rrrrth!”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐎. Or perhaps nothing more than a paralyzing fear. Either way, Dondochakka could only stare, eyes wide and unblinking, after the two of them crossed paths. He didn’t speak, didn’t breathe, and as the seconds dragged on he had to wonder if they had accidentally entered some sort of unspoken staring contest. If that was the case, he was considerably outmatched. Upon blinking, he snapped his over-sized fingers. 

“Aw shoot.”

"𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 --- 𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐀! How’s my favorite human doing, huh?” Mentally congratulating himself for remembering Uryuu’s name this time, Pesche slid an arm around his shoulders, practically 𝙾𝙾𝚉𝙸𝙽𝙶 charm. Or he liked to think he did. Otherwise, this next part might not work. 

“Listen, I heard you’re pretty handy with a needle and thread. And I’ve been getting pretty bored of my outfit. You think you can help a guy out? You don’t even have to design it, I’ve already done the hard part!” He could thank him later. Without further ceremony, Pesche reached into his loincloth, taking a moment to root around before procuring a piece of paper ( which he proceeded to wave dangerously close to Ishida’s face )  “Just take a look at THIS!”  On it was a crude drawing, done in Nel’s crayons: it looked vaguely like him, in something of a superhero outfit. Complete with cape.

"𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐀-𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍! 𝐑𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐀-𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐀𝐀𝐍!" Pesche was the first to reach her, skidding to a halt at the young Lieutenant’s side. Dondochakka came fast on his heels, the two of them both struggling to speak between their ragged breathing. 

“You gotta -- help us -- Don’chya know?” 

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘, so full of sounds and sights. Everywhere he turned something new begged for Dondochakka’s attention. He was supposed to be meeting master Nelliel, but well ------- there came the smell of tantalizing meats, and he was helpless to follow it, all the way to an upscale restaurant. Afterwards a path, filled to bursting with blooming flowers, caught his eyes. And now the sound of music distracted him, completely unlike anything he’d ever heard. Enthralled, he hunted it until his head peeked over the edge of a window sill, into some unassuming Shinigami’s office. Gently Dondochakka bobbed along with the notes, his bulky frame swaying side to side; then, as abruptly as it started, it ended, and the forty second was left frowning.

“Psst!”

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐄, 𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓, Pesche reached out from the shadows, grabbing hold of the passing numero and dragging her into his hidden alcove. A finger shot to his lips, muffling his strained ‘shhh’. It certainly was an odd way to greet one of his fellow arrancar ( and a quick way to start a fight with some of the less agreeable members of his kind ) , yet the reason behind his cowering soon became clear in the form of a passing shadow ------- tall, 𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙾𝚄𝚂, and slouched beneath the weight of a crescent shaped ax. He watched the Octava pass, breathing a sigh of relief as he disappeared round the corner. Then, and only then, did Pesche really get a look at who he pulled to safety. 

“Ehe --- sorry about that,” he said, suddenly flustered. 

Non-verbal RP starters!

It was a battle of wills. A contest of might. Only the strongest would win. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck as the seconds passed, but whatever happened, he couldn’t lose.

He couldn’t blink.

Momo was better than he expected. She met his gaze with a smile, her own eyes set in determination. If she was straining, she gave no sign of it. A worthy challenger, indeed! 

“You know, beetles can go days without blinking. Some don’t even have eye-lids,” Pesche said matter-of-factly, but it didn’t faze her. Instead she began to lift her hands, and he drew back slightly, suspicious -- but Momo only used them to pull her lips down in a ridiculous looking grimace, her eyes crossing even while they stayed opened. Pesche burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling shut before he gasped.

“Hey, wait a second! That’s cheating --”