Findor having trouble defeating a no-name Arrancar who is supposedly a Gillian is not something he will want to publicize; he will not speak of this to anyone. However he will probably try to kill us again in the future. If we succeed in killing Findor, Barragan will merely be disgusted at him for losing to such a weak foe; I doubt he will try to have us killed.
Running to Cirucci is different though, a former Espada denying one of Barragan's fraccion to protect a thief? That is a challenge and an insult to him. If Nemo wants to see Cirucci killed for her audacity, it would be in this option.
Personally, I'd prefer running to the living world and begging our best pal Tsukishima to help us out.
Findor having trouble defeating a no-name Arrancar who is supposedly a Gillian is not something he will want to publicize; he will not speak of this to anyone. However he will probably try to kill us again in the future. If we succeed in killing Findor, Barragan will merely be disgusted at him for losing to such a weak foe; I doubt he will try to have us killed.
Running to Cirucci is different though, a former Espada denying one of Barragan's fraccion to protect a thief? That is a challenge and an insult to him. If Nemo wants to see Cirucci killed for her audacity, it would be in this option.
Personally, I'd prefer running to the living world and begging our best pal Tsukishima to help us out.
Several problems with this idea. One, we can't open Gargantas, only Descorrers. Two, the actual problem, is attracting Shinigami with our Descorrer and that we have no way to contact the Fullbringers if we head back. We'd be running around, injured, hoping a Shinigami doesn't finish us off in our weakened state, call more of them to our location, or capture us and send us to Mayuri. Finally, what's stopping Findor from following us?
If Nemo pursues Findor, she might kill him. Might- she was on the back foot through the whole fight, and when Findor unleashed two-thirds of his power, she had to rely on a risky ambush in order to drive him out of her room- and not only did it not finish him, he still hasn't unleashed his full power, either.
But more than that; if Nemo pursues him, she's going to be killing a Fraccion. Assuming there are no reprisals from that- which isn't a very safe assumption- that's going to drive her directly towards Barragan, who's going to be (at minimum) curious about somebody apparently strong enough to kill a Fraccion. Given that Nemo is not actually all that strong and the last mission Barragan sent her on was intended to kill her off, this seems... less than ideal.
Choosing to run to Barragan has the same problem, but even worse, in that it indebts Nemo to Barragan and doesn't remove Findor as a threat.
Choosing to flee to the human world has... a lot of possibilities, but will drastically shift the tone of the quest. This is already at minimum right before the Soul Society arc, and more likely set during it/just after it; or, in other words, all the supernatural residents of Karakura town have the power and reasoning to want to kill Nemo pretty much on sight. It's risky, and desperate, and actually pretty fun if she, say, ran straight into Ichigo and had to beg him for help- but more likely, she'd run to the Fullbringers. And, no.
Choosing to run to the Forest of Menos is just a bad idea. There's very little to do out there, beyond interacting with one minor character and probably running away from a bunch of assassins. Not many characters to interact with without building a whole cast of OC's, too.
Running to Esmerelda is interesting, and I wouldn't mind if it won. There's one big problem with it, however, insofar as it puts Esmerelda at a lot of risk- and she's not powerful enough to do anything if people decide to kill her. Still, it's an interesting choice; it opens character interactions with another character with established characterization, presents events that can push the story forwards, and provides Nemo with some small way to escape from Findor's wrath, for the moment.
My choice, however, is going to have to be running to Cirucci. It has much the same benefits as running to Esmerelda; it opens interactions with another character with established characterization, posits events that can push the story forward, and provides Nemo with a measure of protection against Findor (and Barragan)'s wrath.
But further, running to Cirucci is also doing something Nemo hates; insofar as it involves seeking the protection of one of those insurmountable Espada that killed mantis-friend in order to escape the wrath of the same Espada that did kill him. It provides a lot of conflict in Nemo's mind, and it's conflict that can be used to progress Nemo's character arc forwards in a fairly natural manner.
So, my vote;
[X]Grab anything valuable you still own, and run. Where are you going?
-[X]Cirucci's fort.
[X]Grab anything valuable you still own, and run. Where are you going?
-[X]Cirucci's fort.
Tempera makes an excellent and well-constructed point, with a well-put and sensible consideration of options at both in-character and out of character levels.
Tempera is wise. Listen to the Tempera. Heed not the hubrissssssssssss.
[X]Grab anything valuable you still own, and run. Where are you going?
-[X]Cirucci's fort.
Tempera makes an excellent and well-constructed point, with a well-put and sensible consideration of options at both in-character and out of character levels.
Tempera is wise. Listen to the Tempera. Heed not the hubrissssssssssss.
The Thunder-Eating Vault Of The Witch-Princess Yo-Yo
The insides of the fifth Privarion Espada's... domain, for lack of a better word, are a welcome, if glaring contrast from the monochrome world outside. Your lungs strain with the simultaneous effort of reaching here and not bleeding a trail of reiatsu behind you as you survey the cavernous interior of the Room of Lots And Lots Of Pillars. She's not here right now, you can tell.
Now where does she keep her things?
You flit from pillar to pillar. Occasionally, you miss or your legs give out, and you have to scrabble for enough purchase on the smooth stone to Sonido to safety. Cirucci is vain and self-important, though you'd never let her know you think that, surely she can't have fewer material possessions than you do- did.
The gold shard aches between your teeth. You one hand keeps a tight grip on Pollila. The other holds shut a makeshift sack of some few, precious things. You can't stay out among the pillars, Findor could find you in an instant if he knew you were here. You need chaff, you need things he can't simply go through or around you need-
You're so used to looking for little cubbies and unobtrusive windows that you don't notice the massive doors until you very nearly run into them. Large, imposing things they are, painted gold and purple. You have no idea how one would even begin moving them if you were at full strength, let alone running on fumes as you are.
So you don't bother. The keyhole is decorative, and large enough for you to shove your belongings through. You wince at the faint and distant thump they make on the other side, before you wiggle through yourself.
It's... not as dark as you'd expected, really. Cirucci had apparently seemed fit to install lighting in her closet. Vault? Words fail to encapsulate the immensity of the space. It looms, vast, and more than that, utterly filled with stuff. Abandoned toys and discarded dresses form mountains, while more favored outfits are leaves on massive clothestand trees. You wander deeper into the space, eyes wide, soaking in the dimly-lit hoard. You're fairly sure you can see layers in the piles. Older objects covered by newer trinkets. Grim trophies dot the environment too: a pile of masks here, a mound of Gillian robes there.
The accumulated wealth of one of the first Espada. You're not sure if you're sick with jealousy or just sick.
You can't hear you footsteps as you wander through the piles. Sound is swallowed by the space. You need to hide until Cirucci returns. You're tired enough to be tempted by a mountain of mattresses... but no. You need somewhere where Findor won't dare to simply tear into, should he find you here-
Your eyes alight on a large mound of lacy black garments.
...No, then she would be the one to kill you.
You keep looking. Eventually you decide on a messy stack of wardrobes, insinuating yourself through the cracks between them until you reach nearly the bottom of the pile.
Then you force yourself inside.
It's dark, and you can't hear much besides your own ragged breathing, but it's not a tight squeeze. The wardrobe is very large, and empty.
You're going to need to some excuse, some truly extravagant begging to avoid Cirucci throwing you to the wolves herself. You think about it, trying to force thoughts into some order even as the panic fades from your system and your eyes grow heavy and-
Cirucci finds you curled up in a wardrobe, cocooned in your overly large scarf and dead to the world.
[X]Grab anything valuable you still own, and run. Where are you going?
-[X]Cirucci's fort.
You look down into the darkness a moment longer, paralyzed. The last echoes of your Cero fade away, a dying moan that seems to trail into the abyss of dust and shadow below.
It's the touch of silence that starts you into action, and you rush about your room, a frantic blur snatching at anything and everything. The tooth first, then the clothes most obviously taken from the Living World. No sense leaving evidence behind. Then smaller objects, easier to carry, and practical ones, with more than sentiment behind them. You're moving without thought, driven by instinct and elimination like a startled insect, limbs operating while your mind rocks slowly back and forth. They bounce onto your sheets, and you wrap the silk into a bundle with one smooth motion.
Autopilot's easy. This isn't the first time you've run.
Findor was right. You don't live for anything, not for anything greater than living. You fight to survive, nothing more. It's a comfort to you. A strength, if you ever thought of yourself in that way. Findor lives for his king, so there are things he can't do, fights he can't afford to lose. Barragan lives for his kingship, and it's just as much of a chain. You, you have nothing. You are nothing. So you're free. Silly to think otherwise.
"I guess I always thought we were alike."
You're out the window, makeshift knapsack bobbing on one shoulder.
"You'll get the knack of it in time, I'm sure."
"You acquitted yourself very well!"
"You are totes adorbz."
You angle toward the empty desert. With your veil, even the endless Exequias won't find you. Back to the forest, nipping at the heels of idiot giants. Alone, like you should be.
"I'm sure you'll find your way home just fine."
"Are you homeless? I can't allow that!"
"What are you doing in my kingdom?"
...you really hurt him, didn't you? Just for that one moment. If you'd been a little stronger, a little faster. If he hadn't had the drop on you. You could have taken him. You could have stayed here.
"I thought we were both the same."
"If you ever feel too lonely though, you can come to me!"
"Don't hesitate to come back if you forget anything I taught you."
Behind you, a new shriek rises, high-pitched Spanish cursing bouncing off stupidly high ceilings and featureless white walls as the fallen Fracción audibly claws his way out of the pit. You need to go.
"NO VOICE, NO ALLIES, NO KINGDOM - YOU ARE NO CROWN-SEEKER. YOU'RE ONLY-"
You kick off into a Sonido, and move.
***
When Findor finally catches up to you, he's a mess. A lopsided lobster-man with chunks of a half-visor concealing his furious glare, hair caked with dust and tangled with dry blood. His wounds are gone - a gift of unleashing his Resurrección - and his spirit crashes against yours like a wave, clawing at you until you're sure you'll drown.
You stay where you are. For the first time in so long, you stand your ground.
You're not an idiot, so you're standing your ground behind one of Cirucci's pillars, back pressed against the cool stone, your spirit dampened as much as you can manage. Findor moves wildly, furiously spinning to seek you out as though his mind's eye was a dog's nose, scraping his oversized pincer against the nearby pillars.
"You pathetic little vagabond!" he shrieks. "You think to humiliate me with this? To tarnish my standing in the eyes of his majesty? Have you learned nothing? My loyalty is worth more than gold! It will not be degraded by an ant such as-"
He pauses, cut off as a spiritual pressure greater than his own suddenly appears, practically on top of you both. It's as though the shadow of some great bird of prey has fallen on the room, without warning or sound, and you wildly wonder if this is why the Thunderwitch has turned her holding into such a labyrinth.
Then a heel clicks neatly down atop one pillar, and Cirucci stares down at you both, imperious as a princess. You shudder, feeling like an insect watched by a bird, and wrap your arms around yourself. Why did you ever think this was a good idea? An idea at all?! This gamble, just throwing yourself against a wall instead of fleeing around it, and for what, to prove-
Cirucci sees you. She sees your new clothes, ripped and dusty and speckled with blood. The cut across your cheek, the bruises along your shivering, sleeveless limbs. Her amethyst eyes rest on your tiny form for a moment. You don't think they show an ounce of compassion. Then they turn to Findor, already composing a smarmy half-apology half-demand, and sharpen. Her lip curls, and she cuts off his wheedlings with a whip-crack that echoes around the pillared hall like-
Oh, like thunder, you think. That's where the name comes from.
"How dare you." She hisses. "How dare you invade my quarters. Privaron or no, I am Espada, and a lady at that. Do you mean for me to take this as a challenge, Número Veinticuatro? Or have you simply learned nothing of manners in all the time you spend playing at being a courtier?"
Findor chokes, and you imagine his face twisting in anger. He begins to say a number of things, and discards them each time. He cannot leave, but to stay is the wrong choice. He cannot make excuses, but to stay silent condemns him.
"Ah", Cirucci finally breaks the silence. "I understand now. I suppose it was inevitable that some lowly arrancar would eventually find their lusts outstripping their grasp. No doubt you've heard of my darling new outfit, and simply had to take a peek?" True to her words, you peer up at her. Her pose is provocative but mocking, saying more than it shows. Its faux-demureness rather falls apart from this angle, and you look away from the flash of purple lace. "My, my", she continues, "Las Noches is so starved of gossip. What a scandal! That the Thermidor Knight is nothing more than a skirt-flipping pervert! Roaring into my bedroom-" Holy Mother, is this her bedroom? This whole thing? Does she just camp out here or something? "-with his claw ready to snip away at my lace and frills, desperate to catch a peek at two ladies en flagrante-"
The diatribe continues until Findor finally flees, disengaging his Resurrección to find somewhere he can clean up and devise a suitably innocuous story, one that his "king" won't care about enough to question. You don't look up as silence falls over the hall, nor as Cirucci glides to the ground like a falling umbrella, nor as her heels click over to you in perfect pendulum time. Then a hand with purple talons - acrylic nails, Riruka called them - cups your chin and forces you to look up.
"You owe me for this", she says, voice neutral and without pretensions. "That creature is a conceited brute with delusions of elegance, but I won't be used as a shield."
You nod. You'd expected as much. You'd expected worse. You just... you hadn't wanted to leave.
Not for him.
She considers you for a moment longer, and then smiles, purple lips revealing sharp canines as she examines you in all your beaten-to-a-pulp glory.
"As it happens, I already have an appropriate service in mind. You see, there's a terrible pest that needs taking care of. A cockroach, or crab, or something with grubby little claws, anyway. One that didn't think twice about invading my domain, even in pursuit of a highly dangerous criminal." Her voice deepens for a moment, in mockery. "I don't want to get my new boots dirty squashing it, but... that's the role of a Fracción." A hint of wistfulness enters her voice. She's also stroking her whip, so you take it with a touch of salt. "Of course, I am not permitted to command a Fracción any longer. That doesn't mean I'm willing to put up with sloppiness in my staff. You will clean up this little mess, and I will ensure-"
She cracks the whip, and grins, curling one purple lip. The desert and its forest of endless gillians beckon to you once more, offering a life consisting of constant fights for your survival. You know, more peaceful.
I needed something to do while my blood sugar went down before I headed to bed, so I tried to make Nemo as smol as possible.
Yes, I made part of the scarf fuzz, and yes I gave her blue hair. Moths have fuz right after their head from what I remember, or that might just be some Moths...
Another doodle, inspired by Nemo tricking Findorr and now I can stop think of the sentence "Six Bala. More than enough to kill anything that moves." for some reason.
How do you think butter lobster is going to explain all the damage his uniform has taken from the hole where we impaled him and everything else if he runs into someone before he can change?
Findor beats a hasty retreat, hoping to escape while he still has his other arm.
Cirucci turns to you with grace and a fearsome scowl. "Don't think this means I like you or anything. I just had an extra Cero, and I didn't want it to go to waste. Baka."
