Aivee's Templates 2.0

With a firm hand, and a determined face, the girl pointed her blade at him.

''I won't stand for this!''

The girl stood, a cozy smirk on her face. She was almost like a regal queen, ready to give out a speech, as she looked upon the faces of the commoners. All with nice asses, by the way.

'' This is my factory. You will reside and work here ; under my dominion, you belong to me! Therefore I will use you to work. Earn your keep and don't ride free ; develop morals. Resist me if you will! But I will punish those that break the rules. I am your mistress ; your queen. So now, bow down to me!''

''.... Gb Ab''

A simple answer to anyone that could understand her code. But to everyone else, it was a mystical, never heard of answer. They didn't understand. She couldn't speak. That was the end of her tale ; she had no more voice. None.. so it was almost a pity. A pure pity.

''No! Stop it, not like that!''

Her voice screamed, as her hand reached out. Black and without forgiveness, the girl tumbled further, leading into a black void that never opened.. or did it?

''... why should I bother with someone like that?''

The dual haired girl said, calmly. As if the situation didn't matter to her, typing away on her phone. It really didn't, as far as the undercover Arrancar was concerned. Why should such a thing bother her? That was the simplicity of the matter. It didn't. After all, it was someone else's own delusion.

''... why should I bother with someone like that?''

The dual haired girl said, calmly. As if the situation didn't matter to her, typing away on her phone. It really didn't, as far as the undercover Arrancar was concerned. Why should such a thing bother her? That was the simplicity of the matter. It didn't. After all, it was someone else's own delusion.

Tip Tap, Tip Tap.

That was the faucet, as thin but strong hands were weaving in a material. A dry laugh was stocked in the back of his throat : if the Gotei saw him now, they would have a heart attack. But he would relish that to say the least : after all, a fox like man had be a little prankster and trickster. The male knew what kind of situation he had put himself in back then : it was all or nothing. And even then, constructs were constructs : there had been only one true motivation at the end of it all. And he had accomplished that, relatively to say the least : however once undone, things remained so. The threads of fate he had held, were plucked apart with all of his actions. Plucked and plucked, erased, eventually turned into evil. These threads faded from white into red and then black : love, hate, death. He knew this better then anyone, as a heavy sigh slipped from his throat. His threading hands stopped for a moment, before starting back up : he was lucky he was handy with such things. The male finished, letting out a sigh, putting a lock of silver out of his sweat covered face.

Tip Tap, Tip tap.

Eh, they'd definitely have a heart attack. Especially Rangiku. Gin knew that too well : they weren't looking for him, but the male didn't want to be involved once again. Not yet, as he brought the mended garment to the lady. ''It's done.'' he said softly, as she smiled at him, nodding. The silver haired male felt relieved : for the longest time, he had been on his own. His usual tactics could work : but the pain of Rangiku's hurt filled eyes had made him rethink that. His fingers touched the side of the table, as he had settled back in. He did miss the Seireitei : but most of all he missed Rangiku. She was his dearest friend : most of his reactions, emotions, had been a facade, to get closer and closer to Aizen. To defeat him, for the pain he caused his dearest friend. So nobody really knew Gin : except maybe Rangiku. And even then, he wasn't sure he could drop his mask in front of them : not like here, this place, where no one knew him.

Tip Tap, Tip Tap.

The taste of dried persimmons still lingered on his tongue, in his memories. Her face, her voice : the very life he had lead on the double surface, within Seireitei. Izuru Kira's trust had been broken, yes, but so had Rangiku's : not very many others had trusted Gin like that. Aizen, perhaps, had trusted him as a tool : he always had the sneaking suspicion the man knew more then he let on. The games of mischief he had played with the other divisions had been quite welcome : he had loved sneaking and teasing some of the members, despite their lack of trust. But his betrayal, to them was no surprise : Tousen and Aizen's were much more poignant and deeper. The only ones that truly felt harmed were perhaps only Kira and Rangiku. That was his logic : but Rangiku had Toshiro.. and Kira had everyone. It would be fine, he had reasoned : but Rangiku was more stubborn then an eight mile train, to say the least, and that had made him smile, inside of course. But there was so much more he wanted to remember, to live again, as his fingers curled up in his palms.

Tip Tap, Tip Tap.

That faucet was dripping, he realized, this whole time. And he also realized he had left himself defenseless : that's what they were waiting for, as he heard the glass break downstairs. He didn't want to feel obligated, but he had to go save those people : they had been good to him, despite his rough edges, and the male arrived : only to see bodies and a blood thirsty hollow. It took no time : the male's Zanpkato was in the other's eye. The stab was instant : instinct perhaps. But the corpse on the front desk got to him most : she had the same hair color as Rangiku, and had heavily reminded him of her. His eyes snapped open, as the creature howled : and without delay, the male had slaughtered it, walking out into the day, watching the town burn. Those sky blue orbs were blaring and defiant, as the male moved through town, impaling any hollow in his way. His teeth were tightly drawn against one another.

Thump. Thump.

This was enough. Gin had to come out of the shadows : it was time to do something about this despairing world, this situation. Where he would end up, no one would know : but his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his Zanpakto, as the memory of the Rangiku like corpse. That made his rage flare again : the whole reason of his existence, his betrayal, his actions, had been for her. He would not let her die : that was a denial that came too strongly. He definitely needed to do something about all of it, as his familiar smile slipped on to his lips. There was no other way : to protect Rangiku, in the way only he knew how. And that was to lie, back stab, betray, and do everything in his power to ensure that she would not be affected. The male let out a chuckle, as his direction moved away from the burning town : let the survivors deal with the rest. Gin had something to do, and little time to gather enough information to do it.

So much to learn, so little time.

''Ya ain't gonna find no more sorta half-wits here.''

The day was bright and sunny, as the black haired girl felt the wind stir her locks. She felt sort of distant : apathetic? Maybe. There was this sort of emptiness that always took hold of her heart, ever since she had been young. This aching loneliness that no one ever saw, nor understood. Few could even compare : and even though she knew some could, she rejected it. Why bemoan and cry the things she no longer had, no matter how much she longed for it? It was a sort of dead end, if one thought about it. It was just a trail with no end, and she understood that : the shinigami knew that very well. Having given all that she could and more then that, and yet still not reach the goal. It was a sad thing, but human. Yet, the sense of betrayal never left : that encroaching sadness that had built the wall between the martial artist and the world. She was an assassin : there were no ties, no way to remain bound to the things that meant dear. She had to cut all of those off and live her own path.

And she had. It had always been such. Even when her heart ached, and cried, still the lonely child Sui Feng, she still moved forward. With a sigh, she let it bleed out of her : all of these feelings that swallowed her. She had to focus after all : as the former head of the Onmitsukidō she had to show she still had the capabilities. That was something her pride would not let her admit : that maybe she was losing her touch. Soi Fon knew better then that, as she held her breath, hissing the air into her lungs, and keeping it there. It was a pure silence, and lacked even movement. This was truly something delicate, and she had to put all of her capabilities into it. It was a matter of life and death really, as the shinigami let herself become one with the environment.

No matter how much she had fought and trained, she still felt that empty hole. All because of that person : the one that had left her so long ago. It was still burning, even though they've made up in terms. Soi Fon found it hard to truly get rid of all of those feelings. She had build for years and years, swallowed and suffered : it was something she knew it would be the hardest to get over. But even then, she couldn't yield or break. She couldn't let it go and most of all, she couldn't let things go unanswered. There was an unwavering will stuck inside of her. The girl knew that, and she used it fully to her advantage : a will that was neither cold nor hot, just perfectly neutral and yet both. Like the wind. She was a beautiful breeze, slipping back and forth across two temperatures : hot and cold. And she understood that it strained others.

But what almost no one understood, was that she was only free then. Free from those burdening feelings, from the thoughts that she didn't want to hear. Still childish, some could assume, but the accomplished Shinigami could care less. In fact, it was true : she cared almost nothing at all for what most others thought. She had forged her own path in life after that event : she had always carved her way, with blood or with words. Trained and took head, and never, ever looked back to others. But Soi Fon was always observing : thinking, reliving. And the guilt that haunted her were like a paralysis at night. And yet, she dared not call for help. Her path was her choice.

And she still felt angry at that event. That one, she had no control over, and it frustrated her. Ever since then, Soi Fon had found herself into strict control : doing her duties and never straying if she could help it. It had all been about her path, and finally, one day, absolving what she desired most. And in a way, it had happened : and she had softened, the woman could admit that. But yet.. she didn't. She wasn't fully blooming. She never would, because the rot of her thoughts still clung to the roots. It was shameful, but there was no other way to explain it : pride and control were Soi Fon's most precious things.

The target moved. Using her lightest steps, the shinigami moved like a blur, shifting from shadow to shadow, ever following. She would not let such a thing slip from her sight : it was an almost determined, bulldogged will that allowed her to keep moving forward. Had she given up, a long time ago, then where would she be now? There was no idea, no method to understand. All this time.. seeking more, wanting more. Aching for one more time, almost to the point of begging. It was painful : she knew that, as it raced in her veins. It was so painful.. and she would have to withstand it a bit longer. Her form moved, svelte and quick, using her petite shape to it's advantage. She was truly an assassin : unlike her former Fukutaichou.

And suddenly, the target stopped. Dammit, had she been spotted? Her thoughts made her sloppy, as Soi Fon quickly moved to the side, deeper into the shadows. Cursing mentally, her focus snapped back to the task ahead of her : if the target caught her, she would be in big trouble. The girl shrunk a bit more, as a sudden blush came to her cheeks. It was a truly beautiful outfit.. with a quick movement, she snapped a picture, and was off : having used Shunpo to get away, she hopefully made it out. Who knew what would happen if she didn't? The Shinigami pursed her lips in this thought line, and quickly pulled and erratic shunpo, to confuse her trail. A couple of those, and she thought she was safe.

With a relived sigh, she landed, holding the camera close to her. That's when she felt a pair of familiar arms around her, and felt her face turn into an intense blush. ''Y-y-yoruichi-sama..'' she breathed out, knowing. She had been caught all the same. Dammit, had it been a trap all along? The girl shook in that embrace, unsure of where exactly to go, what to do. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. Oh she was so in trouble. She could feel it beating so fast : so improper for an assassin to be caught! The mixed feelings of bile and sweetness in her mouth was strange : her pride denied the shame and yet her past acclaimed the feeling with a gentle happiness. It was confusing.

It always was confusing, when Soi Fon was near Yoruichi.

The day was bright and sunny, as the black haired girl felt the wind stir her locks. She felt sort of distant : apathetic? Maybe. There was this sort of emptiness that always took hold of her heart, ever since she had been young. This aching loneliness that no one ever saw, nor understood. Few could even compare : and even though she knew some could, she rejected it. Why bemoan and cry the things she no longer had, no matter how much she longed for it? It was a sort of dead end, if one thought about it. It was just a trail with no end, and she understood that : the shinigami knew that very well. Having given all that she could and more then that, and yet still not reach the goal. It was a sad thing, but human. Yet, the sense of betrayal never left : that encroaching sadness that had built the wall between the martial artist and the world. She was an assassin : there were no ties, no way to remain bound to the things that meant dear. She had to cut all of those off and live her own path.

And she had. It had always been such. Even when her heart ached, and cried, still the lonely child Sui Feng, she still moved forward. With a sigh, she let it bleed out of her : all of these feelings that swallowed her. She had to focus after all : as the former head of the Onmitsukidō she had to show she still had the capabilities. That was something her pride would not let her admit : that maybe she was losing her touch. Soi Fon knew better then that, as she held her breath, hissing the air into her lungs, and keeping it there. It was a pure silence, and lacked even movement. This was truly something delicate, and she had to put all of her capabilities into it. It was a matter of life and death really, as the shinigami let herself become one with the environment.

No matter how much she had fought and trained, she still felt that empty hole. All because of that person : the one that had left her so long ago. It was still burning, even though they've made up in terms. Soi Fon found it hard to truly get rid of all of those feelings. She had build for years and years, swallowed and suffered : it was something she knew it would be the hardest to get over. But even then, she couldn't yield or break. She couldn't let it go and most of all, she couldn't let things go unanswered. There was an unwavering will stuck inside of her. The girl knew that, and she used it fully to her advantage : a will that was neither cold nor hot, just perfectly neutral and yet both. Like the wind. She was a beautiful breeze, slipping back and forth across two temperatures : hot and cold. And she understood that it strained others.

But what almost no one understood, was that she was only free then. Free from those burdening feelings, from the thoughts that she didn't want to hear. Still childish, some could assume, but the accomplished Shinigami could care less. In fact, it was true : she cared almost nothing at all for what most others thought. She had forged her own path in life after that event : she had always carved her way, with blood or with words. Trained and took head, and never, ever looked back to others. But Soi Fon was always observing : thinking, reliving. And the guilt that haunted her were like a paralysis at night. And yet, she dared not call for help. Her path was her choice.

And she still felt angry at that event. That one, she had no control over, and it frustrated her. Ever since then, Soi Fon had found herself into strict control : doing her duties and never straying if she could help it. It had all been about her path, and finally, one day, absolving what she desired most. And in a way, it had happened : and she had softened, the woman could admit that. But yet.. she didn't. She wasn't fully blooming. She never would, because the rot of her thoughts still clung to the roots. It was shameful, but there was no other way to explain it : pride and control were Soi Fon's most precious things.

The target moved. Using her lightest steps, the shinigami moved like a blur, shifting from shadow to shadow, ever following. She would not let such a thing slip from her sight : it was an almost determined, bulldogged will that allowed her to keep moving forward. Had she given up, a long time ago, then where would she be now? There was no idea, no method to understand. All this time.. seeking more, wanting more. Aching for one more time, almost to the point of begging. It was painful : she knew that, as it raced in her veins. It was so painful.. and she would have to withstand it a bit longer. Her form moved, svelte and quick, using her petite shape to it's advantage. She was truly an assassin : unlike her former Fukutaichou.

And suddenly, the target stopped. Dammit, had she been spotted? Her thoughts made her sloppy, as Soi Fon quickly moved to the side, deeper into the shadows. Cursing mentally, her focus snapped back to the task ahead of her : if the target caught her, she would be in big trouble. The girl shrunk a bit more, as a sudden blush came to her cheeks. It was a truly beautiful outfit.. with a quick movement, she snapped a picture, and was off : having used Shunpo to get away, she hopefully made it out. Who knew what would happen if she didn't? The Shinigami pursed her lips in this thought line, and quickly pulled and erratic shunpo, to confuse her trail. A couple of those, and she thought she was safe.

With a relived sigh, she landed, holding the camera close to her. That's when she felt a pair of familiar arms around her, and felt her face turn into an intense blush. ''Y-y-yoruichi-sama..'' she breathed out, knowing. She had been caught all the same. Dammit, had it been a trap all along? The girl shook in that embrace, unsure of where exactly to go, what to do. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. Oh she was so in trouble. She could feel it beating so fast : so improper for an assassin to be caught! The mixed feelings of bile and sweetness in her mouth was strange : her pride denied the shame and yet her past acclaimed the feeling with a gentle happiness. It was confusing.

It always was confusing, when Soi Fon was near Yoruichi.

''Is that all you have?''

The blade danced in the air, flickering and sinking lowly. It was a blade that showed him in an entirety ; a dark blade to say the least, but it was something that many never understood. The tip sunk wanly, almost disappearing into mid-movement. That would startle his opponent ; it always did.