How Misfortunate [Catherine, Sabriel]

"I don't," She'd suddenly cut in, a sharp tone to her interjection as to quickly cleave the mistake before it took root, "Hate, humans. Laughable, to hate humans. What a stupid idea, faen, curse that idea..."

With a hardened breath, she'd let out a puff of smoke, righting her posture, "What I hate, Sabriel, is fear. Fear, motivates ignorance, motivates inaction, motivates cowering in the damn corner, unable to do anything for anyone. Fear is why there's so little known about you lot, fear is why people are left helpless to be devoured, Fear. Is. Poison."

In goes the smoke, out goes the toxins. Again, and again, before she would pick up her speech again, her voice a hissing press on the ears, "I crush my fear so that curiosity may flourish. I'm no damn cog in those so called balancer's bullshit, no rabbit waiting to be eaten. I'm the ulf, here."

While it may have been a fair idea to try and pull Catherine away from her everly hateful rants, Sabriel decided that it was perhaps for the best if the redhead simply let it all out, so to speak. The woman had probably spoken more about herself in the past minute then she had during the whole of their entire conversation. She was cracking under the pressure that she was putting herself under and the fact she was so eager to smoke only proved that further. The intensity of the redhead’s emotions was growing, almost radiating a form of heat.

“Just like those cigarettes you are smoking.” Sabriel remarked off handedly, giving the poisonous sticks a brief glance. She had decided against asking Catherine not to smoke them at the beginning but the Arrancar wondered if perhaps disposing of them would drag even more out of the woman. For now though, she put the thought aside. “Unlike them though, fear is necessary for survival. Yes, when it is allowed to thrive and take control, it is nothing but a hindrance but when used correctly, it can be channelled into something far more useful.”

Pausing briefly, she would fold her arms and speak again, pondering deeply over Catherine’s last words specifically. “So it is not the humans but another race that are the target of your ire. It is not the puppets but the puppeteers that you hate. Wanting to be free of the Shinigami’s influence is certainly bold and I confess I would feel the same, Catherine but what do you intend to do about it? Just because you say you are free of them, does not make it so.”

She scoffed in her bout of mirth - any damage these things would have done to her would be undone within the week, sure she'd have to hack up old lung tissue but she'd be right as rain. That was what being more than human granted you.

"I don't need fear," A casual stream of smoke billowed from her teeth as she cast a small laugh at the idea, "Fear only pins me down. If I didn't crush it every opportunity I had, I wouldn't be alive here. I'd just be worm food in that damn forest..."

Something flashed in her eyes. A memory that provoked an ugly sensation in her chest. She shooed it away, back into the darkness of her mind. That was an accident to unearth, but it would soon be gone as her heart steadied.

"What i'm gonna do about it? Oh, I got a whole plan, in fact," A grin formed strongly on her face, "What do the Shinigami do? Maintain the balance. How? Keep the amount of souls steady on all parts so this shitty system doesn't fall in on itself. All I gotta do, is figure how to do that job from this part and Hueco Mundo. The ability to monitor, purify, and destroy souls as needed."

She listed out all those requirements with a strange electricity to her demeanor, "And i'm sure your next wondering is, 'how is a Fullbringer to do that on her own'? Well~! I have some old knowledge to find, graves to dig up, sanctums to discover... You haven't a fathoming, the things that lives on out of reach."

A manic smile grew on her tired face, a hand tightening into a fist as she'd hit the table in frustration, "All I gotta do is kill that mangy old insipid piece of SHIT wolf and I can have that damn company and all those texts he fucking stole! But that means I have to be stronger than him! That means I can't fear... You get it now?"

Mania. That was what was starting to flow out of the woman now and Sabriel folded her arms across her face as Catherine kept going. Only now did the Arrancar truly see just exactly what was rolling around the woman’s head. It was startling in a way, given how calm and cool the redhead had portrayed herself to be up until now but was the dark haired woman surprised? No. This had been building up for a great deal of time and the negativity she had been feeling was all the proof Sabriel needed to understand that.

Briefly, the lavender eyes of the Arrancar narrowed as she felt the momentary shift in the woman. That was most certainly an interesting change but did not remain long enough for Sabriel to feel much of anything. It did, however, leave her with the possible idea that maybe there was more to all of this. Something else that stirred the redheaded woman into action. There was a question to be asked there but the Desire Arrancar suspected that it may well completely tipped Catherine into madness, a position that she was already tilting incredibly close to or so it seemed.

“Anger is better than fear, I suppose.” Sabriel eventually replied, choosing her words carefully after listening to Catherine’s entire rant. “That is quite the desire you have, Catherine and I confess that it has been quite some time since I have found someone with such…ambition. Yet, are you not simply trying to take the place of the Shinigami? Where you are the one dictating the realms rather than them? If all of your dreams become real, you may as well just put on a Shinigami Shihakushō yourself.”

After considering whether to press further, she figured she might as well. “Who is this wolf you speak of? This figure who is in your way.”

..Ah.

She'd gotten a little ahead of herself, judging by the Arrancar's reaction. Oh well, she was so curious of what she truly felt - she'd get the brunt of it whether the redhead liked it or not. But now, was the time to cool down... Even if she was swinging between boiling and simmering, her composure should be kept with discussing matters like this. Perched between two fingers, her mouth was relieved of the smoke for a bit to breathe, gaze falling onto the place of untouched cold food... Just eat.

Her heart cooled down as she took her moment to listen to the Arrancar while eating, considering her wording from here on out. Sure, she was stressed and overworked, but that wasn't to interfere with conveying her intent,

"You're mistaken if you think I wanna take their jobs from em', Sabriel," She rolled her eyes at the mere idea, "I just wanna prove I can do it better. That humans have some right to maintaining their own lives. That we don't have to depend on a flawed, inefficient band of idiots to make sure reality doesn't crumble."

Though, that last question stilled her, for just a moment. Her fork was squeezed.

"...Ah, that slipped out," Her expression darkened, voice grown cold as a slight smile formed on her features, "My grandfather. He needs to die."

Taking a bite or two out of the lovely albeit rather cold spread before them, Sabriel would quietly muse as Catherine spoke once more. The Arrancar had certainly seen more than one side of the redhead and the dark haired woman was intrigued, as well as perhaps a touch amused at how quickly the researcher was able to rein in what had moments ago almost been an explosion of emotion. It spoke volumes as to what was going on within the overworked woman and as the Desire seeker pondered, she could not help but wonder just how much of Catherine’s ranting had been serious and how much had simply been spoken in the moment.

“I would agree that humans could probably not do a worse job than the Shinigami when it comes to such things. They are not enemies in my eyes but I do not consider them to be allies either. Just a race of hapless buffoons who do not truly know what they are doing at this stage. I do not blame you for wishing to be free of their influence and I most certainly hope that you are able to achieve what you so dearly wish to.” Sabriel replied, feeling somewhat the same as she had when she had spoken to another with lofty ambitions. It was not in the Arrancar’s nature to deter, only encourage.

She tilted her head as Catherine revealed the identity of the wolf, curious. “You wish to eliminate your own grandfather? Well, are you not the dutiful grandchild? Where does that desire stem from?”

..Fine. She guessed there was no choice but to dig into that unpleasant well of memories for context; it did sound pretty deranged to admit you wanted to kill your own grandparent with nothing else to it.

"Damn, where do I start, ahm..." Her gaze rose up for a moment as she took a puff, "Well, piece of shit found and took me in when I was homeless. Put me to work. Taught me a lot, with loads of disparagement and spitting how terrible everything I did was,"

Unpleasant memories washed over her, brow scrunched as she remember every little belittling comment and beating when she didn't get a weapon, a movement, anything exactly to his infuriatingly high standards. She couldn't even imagine that old rotting sack smiling, it wasn't like he ever did it for her. Always something to be goddamn pissy about...

"So when I turned eighteen, he gave me a proposition, a contract; I kill him, I get his company and everything he owns. And I can say, he has... Quite a lot of things that I wish were mine right now. But,"

She abhored the idea, but she had to get the message across; the part of her suit covering her right shoulder, was carefully pulled back to reveal... It looked to be a large, round mark - if it werent for the edge of another similar mark, it could have been mistaken for everything except what it truly was, a bite scar of a great beast. It was a larger scar atop darkened skin, that would have betrayed more scars had she taken it off entirely.

"Let's just say, that wasn't as easy as nineteen-year-old me thought it'd be."

It was an illuminating experience to hear more about Catherine’s background and it seemed to be spilling out of the redhead at this point. Sabriel had half expected by now that the researcher would have called a nosy…well, something and shut up shop but that was simply not the case. In honesty though, the Arrancar believed that this was what Catherine needed and while it had obviously not been the redhead’s original plan, Sabriel hoped that in the end, her friend would perhaps find some sense of relief, even if it was just a slight amount.

“That most certainly explains your desire for perfection and the incredible detail that you put into your research. I cannot imagine how it feels to have such a dictator looking over your shoulder all the time and I do not blame you in the slightest for wanting to end his life. Violence is not usually my way but if I were in your shoes, even I would be tempted to do exactly the same.” She answered after some time. “What a useless waste of oxygen.”

The scar was certainly distinctive and Sabriel recognised it well enough. A mark left by an animal, a beast of some description and the lavender eyed woman looked at it with disdain briefly. How unfortunate that the redhead was decorated with such horrible looking abrasions and the thought actually bothered Sabriel more than she thought it would.

“So after attempting to kill him and failing before, do you believe that you are at the point now where you could take him or is there more that needs to be done?” She would ask, curious to see exactly how close to achieving her desire Catherine was. Now that she knew the tale, Sabriel could not help but be intrigued. It was simply in her nature.

The redhead scoffed at the mere idea that rotting sack of bones and bile was responsible for her rigorous attitude, crossing one leg over the other, "Please. His bullshit's hardly affected my ethic; Precision is in my nature - perfection's just sheer stupidity..."

Her gaze dropped a bit as her mind wandered to other ideas.. Before quickly banishing the thought. No, nah, he has no effect on her. She was untainted, a perfect killer to end him, "Can't say he's entirely useless. He sure has had a lifetime of stuff I get to take from him and use for my own machinations; more useful machinations, heh.."

The mere thought of having all those familial texts and others brought a manic smile to her face, she couldn't help it - so much important data, just rotting in a basement somewhere, just like that stinking wolf in that flesh sack he's squished himself in.

"Hell no am I ready for that," The idea provoked a feverish laugh, "No, No no no, Ahaha. I just gotta keep going, get stronger, just a little stronger and I can fight him- I can BEAT him this time! I just have to be completely, entirely, totally prepared for it now..."

Anxiety wavered her tone, those scars aching along her shoulder at the mere recollection of that cautionary bite. Held down, wounded, a cold breath on her face...

It seemed that Sabriel was walking a fine line with her probing and the Arrancar knew it herself. Catherine was teetering between her usual calm self and this other side, a manic woman who seemed to be almost falling over the edge of sanity. The lavender eyed woman had encountered many people over the past year or so, individuals of every race who walked the Earth and her fascination with others never died. There was always something else to discover and today was most certainly new.

Honestly, she did not quite believe that Catherine had not gained anything from her time spent with her adopted grandfather. Sabriel did not argue the point but it was difficult to fathom that the redhead’s behaviour had not somewhat been forged by his foul treatment. She felt that there had been a time once where Catherine had wanted to impress her kin, to force him to acknowledge her prowess and while it appeared that the desire had turned into hatred now, Sabriel could not help but wonder if deep down, Catherine still wanted to prove herself.

As she listened, Sabriel detected something new to the woman’s tone of voice. Nervousness, anxiety and despite what Catherine had so desperately tried to argue that she no longer felt...fear.

Looking the redhead in the eyes, she would ask just a single question this time, probing deeper still into the woman’s psyche. “How exactly did you acquire that scar on your shoulder?”