Equalist [Nozomi, Starrk]

The sounds of revving and clicking sounded as Nozomi tapped her fingers impatiently on the side of the technological device with her left hand. Her right hand was preoccupied, pressed against a small dashboard attached haphazardly on the top of the device, with electricity arcing around those members. The woman was in deep focus, and though she was for the most part still, all of the action occured within her head at blinding speeds. Nerve impulses raced around in her brain, back and forth through her nervous system, her arm a simple medium of communication between her and the machine she was dealing with. A piece of thick paper that had been previously placed on the entry slot of one side was now sucked into the device, which would proceed to print Nozomi's chosen design upon both planes of the small card. There was no computer connected to the makeshift printer she was using, nor any other sort of device—the blueprints for the print were conveyed straight from Nozomi's mind to the machine itself as a current, hence the electricity flowing from her fingers into the dashboard. It did not take long for the design and writing to be illustrated upon such a small canvas, which was about the size of a business card; for all intents and purposes, it was a business card. Once it was ejected from the machine, Nozomi's left hand stopped its impatient tapping and extracted it from the cluster of metal and plastic and other such materials that could never have normally passed as a workable printer on today's markets. As she did, her right hand released its hold on the dashboard, and in the most unceremonious fashion the machine fell to pieces. The unusual energies that had been holding together now departed, back into the various separate instruments that had been used to make it. By all means, there never should have been a printer, but Nozomi's capabilities were capacious, often incomprehensible. In truth, she was simply misunderstood; living mystery.

The card was simple, passing in efficacy where it failed in elegance. A normal person when pleased would smile, but given that there was nobody to see, Nozomi wouldn't waste the efforts as she sealed the successful project away into her gloves; the pocket dimension she had created for storage had endless utility, and was incredibly convenient... though that very project was long in the past, so she did not spare her effort there either. She simply turned away from the mess on her desk, to come to face with the mess on her room's floor, seemingly comprised of random junk and resources that held no meaning to anyone but Nozomi herself. No windows, no door, no light, just walls. It didn't matter, Nozomi could see perfectly without light anyways, and this room was the physical manifestation of 'bare minimum'. Anything unnecesary and unusable did not belong in this room, and that included visitors. Now, given her print was done, she walked over to the far edge of the room and brought her arm up to tap the plaster wall with one of her fingers. After a reluctant enigmatic whine, the fabric of reality split open to reveal the turbulent dark energies beyond, as Nozomi's personal Garganta was used. She stepped through without delay and the portal closed behind her, leaving the godforsaken room behind her in silence; darkness. It was almost as if it did not exist.

The next time Nozomi stepped back out of her Garganta, she found her foot sinking an inch into the dusty grain of the Jigoku Dezāto, the desert of Kokuryuteshi. Her garganta imploded behind her with a tumultous gush of wind, a loud sound. Her two-pieced black cloak billowed slightly before dying down, just as dark blue hair had whipped in the wake of the gust. Then there was only the whistle of the windblown dunes, caused a much gentler natural airflow present here. Most of this desert was nondescript, as any Earthen desert was. However, before her stood a blight in lieu of this, or perhaps a haven depending on the opinion of the onlooker. The dilapidated building stood tall as an outpost, a tower still standing strong among the harsh environment provided by this wasteland. It perhaps had once been useful and modern, but now the sad little structure was presented in a state of disrepair as it was—for the most part—abandoned. Regardless, this was Nozomi's destination, confirmed by her sighting of the original Primera Espada with her Omnidou. She wordlessly ambled onward into the building, her movements silent without necessary effort, as if natural. She made her way through the various hallways and up the staircases ascending the tower, no rush in her movement. When she arrived, the only indicator of her presence would be by visuals, and the clearing of her throat. Starrk himself was out cold, but Lilynette—the second shard of his essence—was quite conscious and would hear the sudden sound in the doorway of the room they idled in. If she dared look, she'd see the woman's pitch black hues staring emotionless back into hers.

It was hard to detect the shifting of Nozomi's eyes, given the pure darkness that had consumed them. Yet, when the man known as Starrk cracked his eyes open, there was no doubt that the strange woman was peering straight back into those gray hues. She didn't say anything at first, as the jocose exhibition played out before her, made far more intriguing by the fact in the back of her mind telling her that they were both one and the same. She didn't have to pour over her Daten of the former Espada to see now that fact; they both shared precisely the same Reiatsu as the other, and under closer inspection seemed to represent spiritual puzzle pieces that would fit side by side. Had she not the capability to ascertain these details though, she'd easily have believed them two separate and unique individuals. Coyote Starrk was the male, chestnut-coored hair and silvered irises, eyebrows that seemed to have never risen from that bored look in their life, and a faded goatee. His Arrancar remnant hung around his neck like a collar, resembling the jaw and bottom set of teeth from his old mask. Lilynette Gingerbuck, his partner in crime, was lacking any form of correspondence to the original. She was a youthful female, sporting a hair that was something of a mix between one of the brightest blond shades and a sickly lustrous chartreuse, though half of it was concealed under the helmet-like piece of her mask, with one and half demonic horns as well as the left eye; a burgundy flame rose above that eye of the mask. Lilynette's still visible right eye was wide and vivid to prove as a huge contrast between the two people in general, with a pink tint to it. Overall it allowed her to be more expressive.

As if on cue, the un-lady-like voice yelled out, delivering a chastising remark to Starrk's lethargic mumblings. If it hadn't been for the Lunstig Mentality she had currently adopted, she'd have laughed at the nonsensical exchange and taken it with a light heart. Unfortunately, the woman wasn't playing at jokes at the moment, and instead she'd disregard them and simply wait for an actual opportunity to get to the point. She finally recieved the chance when the Lilynette child readjusted her focus on her, and just decided to ask her what this appearance was all about. Nozomi did not take her eyes off of Starrk, though considering her power she did not really have to—both of them were within the dominion of her gaze. She didn't answer right away; she was reading the apathetic man who sat on the floor, just using a second to make sure he was conscious enough to hear her now. After confirming that he was, she granted her answer to the blonde. "To speak with the one known as Coyote Starrk. Him." Nozomi's arm had risen, pointing a slender finger at the man in question in an almost incriminating fashion. Just as quickly, that arm fell and she would clasp her hands behind her back in the same barren soundlessness her every movement had possessed thus far. "It's a simple proposition from me to a man who clearly is enjoying his job. Given the chance, I hope I can improve on that and make it beneficial to accept. All you have to do is hear me out." She could only hope the two of them could differentiate between sarcasm and actual intent.