The Power to be Yourself (Asta/Amaranta)

Power

Power is everything in the world that is built on a foodchain. But what is power, really? Is it power to protect others, is it the power of a mindset, just what is it?

Asta had very basic understanding of what power was, it was one's physical might. Which she lacked, comparatively, she was nothing more but an average hollow. Unable to eat much, all because of guilt, of something. She did not know what exactly, but the moody corvid could not bring herself to eat, instead, she allowed herself to starve, suffer, and wail in the corner.

But she hadn't had the willpower to wait forever, and when the hunger took over, much of the reasoning- what little the Hollow has left, is abandoned in favor of primoridal instincts of survival.

In the ruins that is the America, plenty of unsavory folks roam about, at least that's what Asta had figured, and this time... Her frenzy was unleashed onto a group of ragtag criminals, the corvid ripped through them, as well as other passing hollows she met along the way, utter rage creating small reverberations of spiritual pressure in otherwise ambient outskirt ruins. Rage untold shined through the hollow's mask, leaving traces of yellow light as Asta flew across the ruins, swiping at the unfortunate souls, sparing largely no one. Both civilians and criminals were caught in the hurricane of anger that was brewing.

From behind the view of monotone cracked and destroyed buildings, in the barely cobbled streets, one would find the roads littered with blood and innards of her victims, paving way to a small building, at the top of which the raven sat in quiet contemplation of it's own actions.

Hollows usually didn't think much about it, food is food, Asta however. Was an exception to the case, somehow still holding onto a fragment of her previous memories, the Hollow couldn't tell exactly why she felt bad, but ripping those people apart, and eating them. It caused her mental pain and disgust. Monsters usually do not care if they are monsters, but what if one thinks they know what they are? The aspect of her death still so deeply ingrained in her very soul and thoughts tugged at the concious, leading to a loud, pained screech.

Not that anyone alive was around, at the very least... Asta couldn't sense that.

Amaranta found something peculiar, the bird had a keen instinct and reflexes, with her head turning a small delay after the Arrancar executes her Sonido, Hollow instincts were about to set in, startled. The bird flew away ever so slightly, to gain distance. Yet they sensed to immediate hostility, and from a look in the eyes beyond the mask, the Arrancar could tell there was a clear glint of above-animal intelligence.

"Not.. Really."

The tone of voice was a soft whisper against the wind, which slowly echoed and boomed through the area like a wind's breeze. Horrifyingly or perhaps, curiously enough, it wasn't quite the same distorted voice most hollows had, as if what little memories the hollow had, they held onto fervently, preserving their intellect.

"I killed them."

She elaborated, looking down at the mutilated bodies surrounding her. Guilt washing over her.

"I feel bad now." The raven would flutter her wings, and stare at one of the bodies, trying to drag the poor dead bloke on the ground by his hoodie into a sitting position, only to realize that she was just dragging his upper half along the way, she drops him from his beak, and shakes her head. Like a child who just broke something valuable.

"I didn't want to, but I was so... hungry."

Corvid answered the question. The hollow did seem malnourished for an average hollow, something which a Quincy or Hollow, Arrancars like Amaranta could very eaily tell. Asta did start to notice the Arrancar's growing curiosity, which did make her ask question of her own, she flew up to the nearby building, as if to not let her have advantage of the high ground, watching her curiosly. From what she could tell, the woman did have hollow energy, but it seemed different, she seemed different... Nothing like what Asta has ever seen- which doesn't say much, she hasn't seen that many things, considering she's practically a newborn.

"Friend... Or foe?"

The Raven queried in return.

"Asta..."

The hollow responded, it's one of the only things it could say with confidence. She didn't remember her name, might as well use a new one. Despite the fact she was malnourished, she still had that hidden vigor, as judged by the dead bodies surrounding the hollow.

"Hollow?"

She tilts her head, flapping her wings.

"I don't know, I just... Those people, can feel emotions of their soul. And these emotions, so intense, so mixed... Beautiful, and yet after I eat them, even if tasty. Nothingness is left."

The hollow explains, in the best words she could put, granted she was smarter than average hollow, and was capable of speech. But still, she was practically newborn, only natural her vocabularly wouldn't be so large.