Off In The Cold Woods [Catherine, Verdada]

A lip curl with a hatred for musicals was the only response to the Arrancar's little comment and jabs, with the fluidity of movement and action she had pushed herself into a running start when she smelled the sharp metallic tang of fresh blood dot her senses, another rock sent like a bullet into the beast's face to lead it further and further away from anything it may have considered company, freely running into the pale root-like structures and sliding down as the beast lunged for her, coming face first into it's own doom.

A hand rose to her mouth as she slid to the bottom of the gaping crevice, producing a particular chain. She saw that white face above her, coming for her, hunger in it's eyes as it's body lunged and fell forth.

It made it all the easier to grasp onto that feeling. That sinking, uncomfortable feeling, of treading waters she knew not the name of. The sink into it's painful, warm grasp. The sting of hopelessness in her lungs, the futility in her movements, and finally...

That dark desire to drag the world down with her, or was it a reach for the world to save her?

A question never answered, only did the murky depths rush and expand from her body as a deep breath was taken. Within seconds, the entire space was intruded upon by a deep blue substance. There was hardly a need for her to move, or run, or fight here - she just had to stay put and watch the Gillian writhe as bubbles escaped the orifices of it's white face. Roars were deafened into throbbings of bubbles, movements were tarnished by it's considerable size and aimless movements - it could not make itself upright with the weight of her heart steadily increasing atop it.

There she stayed. For minutes, and minutes. Watching the colossus succumb to the water that choked out it's lungs and invaded it's very being.

. . .

A welcoming frostbite greeted her, resting at the depths of the hollow as she watched the shadow above her grow numb, grow still. Holding her breath was a built instinct with the usage of this ability, but she had lost track of time - how long had it been again? Seconds? Hours? Being within this murky darkness always made things slow, and tired.

But she had to focus. She couldn't allow the numbing to make her forget... A sharp pain cut through the cold - her fingernail dug into her palm and drew blood, the shot of pain pushed her into a more alert state. She had to drop it, she had to pull it back in...

Then those pesky thoughts barred her thoughts; feelings of deserving to drown at the bottom of this lake. Hatred of the self seething in her lungs, threatening to make her part her lips. That feeling of loss, of loneliness, of fear...

Stop.

She'd clear them all out, pushing them into the dark waves, her mind a blank white.

Then, as if pulled by a force unseen and lacking in understanding, the water retreated into her form. She gasped for air, breathing rapidly, that lightheadedness causing a brief stumble and a fit of coughing. But even with the plume of water having swollen the smaller space, there was hardly a droplet. The Gillian simply laid as if it's life force had mysteriously leaked away, her form crawling back to the maw of the enclave completely dry, as if the flood never happened.

Heavy breaths were taken and spouted as her body had to remember it wasn't in water anymore, a hand placed on her chest as she was rolled onto her back; she was able to breathe, rasping breaths slowly realizing and calming to regular breathing, at least enough for her to regain situational awareness to bat a hand at Verdada. Those pulses of Pesquisa were felt and quite unappreciated, it made her feel fit to vomit,

"Cut it, cut it out... I'm gonna be siURMPH," She held her mouth with two hands, before calmly gulping and closing her eyes for a moment, voice burned by the brief surge of acid in her throat, "Just.. Just give me a second.."

Breathing steadied, trembling ceased, she'd slowly sit up after a few moments, looking to the corpse and then to Verdada, "..Well, big ugly's downed..."

Pushing herself to a start, she'd get on her feet and unsheathed her blade, making a steady yet fragile march over to the mound of darkness greater than either of them, "..Lets cut em open.."