Just A Dull Beast [Kita/Amaranta]

Her mind grasped for some reasoning of this matter that bothered her, pain and discomfort as she lied beneath the lion of a woman, even her freed arm unwilling to move until some consensus was put together on what she should do. What was the point of vengeance when the aftermath felt.. So unfulfilling? She imagined herself having killed the lioness, much like she'd felled many beasts, perhaps experiencing ecstasy in her victory.. But then the cold shadow of nothingness would creep into and form a void in her, until she had found something new to dedicate to.

Again and again, a cycle of violence, joy, and then nothing. Nothing accomplished, nothing won, nothing built, nothing changed. It only became more complicated when the other Arrancar introduced another idea - of people being upset that she was gone. She was forced to think - would anyone be upset if she were gone?

Her "family" back in Hueco Mundo? The most of the upset she could imagine is that she was no longer there to get them food or protect them, past that they certainly didn't care for her, she had realized. Klein? She wasn't certain; the little Arrancar certainly acted like he cared for her, they had exchanged physical touch and words, but now she had done something to betray his insistence - she had gone to Safira and had been marked in her humiliating failure.

Past that... Nobody. There wasn't anything else that would miss her. She would have been killed a faceless and worthless beast.

"..I would vanish, with not a thing to my name." Soft spoken, she'd give Amaranta an answer, her gaze turned tired, "None would miss me. None would remember me... I'm just a stupid animal, no more important than the prey I hunt."

That was an incredibly depressing answer. Amaranta found herself momentarily reflecting on her own past, but pushed it down in favor of focusing on the matter at hand. It was difficult to place how she felt in words, but she despised the idea of bowing out of the dance with nothing to show for her in her name.

Her prideful existence was as immutable as the sun, and through her own two hands, she vowed to ensure that write her own history for those to remember well after she was gone. Was it possible in a single lifespan? Who knows. Amaranta had never bothered to think about the particulars.

Looking at this woman now, in her state, she wondered about what had brought her so low. For someone who possessed equal strength to her own, she had potential. To allow her to waste it here would go against her sense of aesthetics. Sure, maybe she would die exactly as she said she would, a simple, faceless thing with no one to remember her... but is that truly what she wanted? Would she enjoy that outcome?

"Heh, well damn... I certainly can't relate to that. That's a boring ass way to go out, honestly, but then... Is that really what you want, though? To die like a stupid, faceless, animal without anything to your name? Is that all your existence really amounts to? Forget about everyone else for a moment and think. If I beat you to death where you laid right now, would you let it happen?"

Amaranta voiced those genuine questions, gazing down at the woman, her fist poised in the air. She wasn't the sentimental type by any measure, instead voicing her curiosity in response to wondering what it meant to observe someone who appeared as if they lacked conviction and a will to rise up. Where did her heart lie in all of this? Was that really the end she wanted? Compelled by nothing but genuine curiosity, she awaited the woman's answer.

Her eyes had mostly shut, head lying to the side as her gaze had left her opponent, turmoil in her mind and body as her very existence felt wrong and sickening to experience; by no means did the tigress actively wish for death, but there was certainly some desire to return to zero, back to the uncomplicated life of an animal, that perhaps she didn't have the strength to continue on as an arrancar. She'd been no better than a Menos for decades unto decades, what would be lost if she simply reverted? But even so, she met the idea with hesitance and reluctance - what did she want?

Through half closed eyes, her glowing acidic gaze drifted back up to Amaranta as she spoke down on her rather depressing answer, but it was the first thing the humiliated creature came to think of, but that would become shaky as the idea was challenged, eyes widening just a bit as she had that question thrown in her face: Did she want to remain as an animal? Die as one? It was one thing for her mind to vaguely gloss the idea, it was another thing entirely for another outside of herself to throw it in her face.

For years, she had been on that fence, and hadn't had any reason to fall either way. If the woman pinning her down beat her to death, she'd die without ever truly accomplishing anything. Her "family" was fake and her power was wasted, she hadn't any cause since being a part of the Numeros, and even there she wasn't utilized or even regarded as useful.

Useful... Her gaze drifted down to her arm, to the scale-like patterns that had been borne from that woman's influence put inside of her. Was that what she wanted to be? But, not to Safira - she loathed Safira, though it seemed she forced some reason for her current existence unto her, and she didn't want to leave Klein behind, even if he may reject her.

But... Her hand tightened into a fist, and would suddenly swing to hook Amaranta in the face, and perhaps knock the woman off her in the shock of strength. She was weakened, tired, and ill, but she could still fight. She wanted to fight. She wanted to live.

"No.." She'd growl, "..I don't have a reason to live as I am, but I want one. One beyond my captor's."

Most would have doubtlessly took some offense to a sneak attack across the face, but they were fighting one another mere seconds ago, so Amaranta didn't find any reason to be angered. No, if anything, she welcomed feeling the answer rather than hearing it. That display of defiant strength had earned her approval rather than ire as she rubbed her bruised lips. Spitting out a small wad of blood, Amaranta offered a satisfactory grin in response to the woman. That was an answer she wanted to hear. Fading out into existence? Dying without a purpose? She viewed those actions as detestable, possessed of the wholehearted belief that something was always worth fighting for. However she sought that purpose mattered little. What matter is that she found it. Rising from the ground, Amaranta cracked her neck as she challenged the woman to step forward.

"Then, stand up and fight. Fight until you find your reason. If you get knocked on your ass? Keep fighting. If you ask me, that's a life worth living, one you can truly take pride in."

She forced her heavy, awkward body to it's feet to address her opponent, having formed a respectable distance between her and Amaranta, panting and refusing the allure of exhaustion as bright eyes gleamed with a newfound feeling, her glowing pupils needle thin. She couldn't understand why this woman seemed interested in her continuing to live, this was incredibly unlike the behavior she was subjected to in Hueco Mundo, being beaten down and subdued. There was a feeling her opponent wanted her uprising, rather than her downfall in a way, something she was entirely unfamiliar with in a fight.

Whatever this was, she was intent on proving herself, moving in to attack her opponent with her teeth bared and a defiant yell. Their ensuring conflict was entirely unlike the fight she had hours prior - it felt as if she was speaking in blows to an equal, than proving herself against an insurmountable force. There was a sense of admiration for the woman's skill and strength as their fight would span for a duration she couldn't keep track of, the only thing she could tell was that the first hints of dawn were beginning to crawl in, the tigress panting and bloodied, yet refusing to fall down as the two reached a stalemate,

"... Even with what that wretched snake did..." She'd murmur, looking at her hands. Her strength hadn't actually escaped her, it was still here, it was still her's. Her pale hands painted with dark reds curled into gentle fists; she was marred with the consequences of her weakness, but she wasn't ruined by it, at least that was what her feelings drew to. But finally, her weakness proved her to be the lesser of the two, once again meeting eyes with her opponent, "..What is your name? Who are you beholden to?"

What followed in those next few hours was a battle Amaranta found far more enjoyable than what transpired before. There was technique behind every strike. There was purpose behind every attack. No longer did this tigress fight as if she was a feral beast that needed to be suppressed, but a true warrior who sought to impose her will in the resulting battle. These actions were the true symbols of one who truly wished to stake their life on something more.

To that end, Amaranta offered nothing but her utmost admiration, welcoming every strike, imploring the woman to draw even more of her aggression out into the open. Amaranta proved the superior of this particular battle, but the victory was secondary, all things considered. Regardless of who won or loss, she invoked something worth respecting in this woman's spirit. Worked up a sweat and drew blood, too. Grinning with pride in her expression, Amaranta spoke in that trademark confidence of hers.

"Amaranta. Beholden to no one but me, myself, and I. Since we're not bashing each other's heads in anymore, what's yours?"

Amaranta... That was a name she recognized, and now that she truly got an idea of her looks, she had seen her around the resort, though any form of connection was cut short by her own reluctance to interact with those whom she had perceived as threats, often giving a lingering stare before abruptly parting with hardly much said. But she didn't feel the need to follow that instinct, rather what she was looking upon was someone she was finding to be... An ally? In common with her? Was that what this feeling was, some form of camaraderie?

"Kita," She'd respond through her hoarse panting, her body heavy as her knees would finally buckle under the weight of exhaustion and pain, a harsh series of coughs following, any attempt to help her up prevented with the raise of a hand if attempted, "... There is something I must do alone. There may be a little Arrancar wondering where I had gone to, but he must wait just a little longer."

Clutching her chest, she forced herself back to her feet, turning away from the other woman and opening a Garganta, the darkness parting way for her to enter onto Reishi footholds, looking back at the lionness with a strange glint to her eyes,

"..Farewell, may we cross again, and may I be strong enough to defeat you one day," With her final word, the opening shut, the tigress off to see for herself what she had left.