LXXXV. Fashion Disaster
"I'm bored, by the way."
You jump in surprise and turn around to the sight of Luppi leaning against the wall (three feet above the ground) with his hands joined behind his head.
"I did the music thing. Was a fun exercise. None of these guys appreciate it, though. And I had to do a crash course in waitress-ing for the Coro before that. I want a break. Also, you should probably get them backstage soon. They'll definitely need a break before the grand performance."
You sigh, all too aware of that. Well, you're not going to try and keep Luppi on a leash for the whole evening; his lashing out could ruin everything, and your seniority as a Fraccion only goes so far in giving you authority over him - you are still Arrancars, and he is more powerful.
He better not start a fight, though. You make this very clear and glare daggers at him when he laughs in response.
"I'll tell you what," he says, "I'll try my best not to."
And before you can say that it's not enough, he's gone.
Well, you suppose that means it's time to go back to work. You quickly scan the room to make sure everything is going fine - there are some spirited conversations; Ilforte and Szayel are still clearly full of spite for each other but Alphonse seeming to manage to keep them reasonable, and Grimmjow is glaring at Ulquiorra as if he were weighing up how much he wants to provoke him, God knows why. But it's… Working. So far.
You sigh and move back towards the center of the room. On the way you stop Phylius and give him a few gestured instructions. The Coro Nocturno needs to withdraw out of the room to prepare for the opera, but not all at once. He nods and relays your message in a whisper, and four of the Numeros discreetly depart the room. They will soon be followed by others. Hopefully the novelty of being in the same room without some official pretext like Aizen's summon will be enough distraction for the Espada until the play begins.
You walk between Fraccions as if floating, dress rippling softly in the breeze of a dozen of spiritual pressures, and halt at Cirucci's side, sliding your hand into hers. She looks at you and beams - how happy she looks, how excited; in this moment she seems taller than she's ever been to you.
"It's beautiful, Nemo," she whispers. "Thank you."
You smile in turn. It was not your sole doing. Without her it would never have happened. And you have to grudgingly acknowledge Luppi's part.
"We should dance," she says all of a sudden, eyes shining, and it takes you by surprise.
Yes. Yes, you should - but not now. She has many guests to attend to, much chatting ahead to make each of them feel valued - she (and you) can take centerstage later. You promise her a dance, then nudge her forward. Her hand slips out of your grasp with a last smile, and she walks up to Aaroniero.
"What a delightful evening, Quinta," the man says, in a voice unlike any of the three you've heard before - curious, you linger for a moment.
"I know you're peculiar about your food, Aaroniero," Cirucci says with a smile, "and so I have prepared a wide spread in hope you'd find something to your taste. Although I do not know how you intend to eat with this mask on, meaning no offense…"
"Ah! You have me there. Thankfully, you provided for us the true shade of evening, and hid for a while that accursed sun. And so my very sensitive self can afford to do this…"
With dainty grace, Aaroniero raises his hand to his strange cylindrical mask - and removes it.
You don't know what you expected, but it wasn't this. Piercing blue eyes, sharp features, unruly black hair - slightly too long in the neck - a winsome smile, and not a trace of a mask fragment.
"I think I'll start with the fourrés," Aaroniero says, and you decide that you'll have to leave this oddity for later.
Frankly, you can't wait to deal with someone who isn't an Espada. You've had enough of smothering presences and minding your tone and body language at all times. You peer across the room again - the Tres Bestias are too rough-and-tumble for you right now, but you could chat with Jackelton and learn how he's feeling about his new job-
You pause.
This is the first time you are relaxed enough to think about what you're seeing. All the times before were in the presence of the Espada and Aizen, being preoccupied entirely by their overwhelming attention and dangerous whims. But now you actually see it.
You see Lilynette's outfit.
This will not stand.
In a moment you are standing at the Fraccion's side, reaching for an olive. She turns to you as you arrive and does her best to smile through an entire mouthful of stuffed bread.
"Hahoodoinsfudsnice!"
You flick a few sputtered breadcrumbs off your gown and return the smile. You have no idea what she just said.
"I said," Lilynette says, impressively swallowing her loaf of half-chewed bread in one gulp, "how you doin' the food is nice!"
You're very glad she likes it. You encourage her to sample some more, politely leading her further up the table and picking some treats which, based on the two cakes she's offered you so far, you think she would like. You're actually wondering where she learned how to bake a cake-
"Oh, that's easy!" she says cheerfully, grabbing a soft sweet. "Same way your dog-headed friend did!"
You look at her, waiting. She hops off to pour herself some fizzy drink Luppi found god knows where.
"So I see you have card games! Do you want to play a round with me?"
All right. Never mind the cake. There are more urgent matters. For instance, her 'uniform.' It matches the fabric and color patterns of Arrancar uniforms, but the cut issss… Non-standard? That's one word for it. You're wondering where she got it.
"That guy!" Lilynette says, point a finger at Alphonse across the room.
You refuse to believe that.
"Well, it didn't come that way. I had to tweak it."
Did… did she commit this tragedy for herself?
"It was so uncomfortable."
You give her a flat stare, and she waves her arms wildly.
"When I was with the desert with Starrk, it was cold all the time! I just had a Hollow pelt and I wrapped myself in it to keep me warm! But here there's a sun so everything is hot all the time so I couldn't keep the pelt and the clothes that dude gave me were chafing so I cut them up a bunch until I was comfortable."
The flatness of your stare has come to challenge the endless plane of the Salar de Luna.
It's okay. You can fix this. You have to fix this. You grab Lilynette by the wrist and gently pull her away from the buffet table.
"Where are we going? Are we playing card games?"
You're going to your workshop. The gala will need to survive without you for a few minutes.
"Oh my god what iiiis this plaace!" Lilynette shouts wide-eyed as you slam the door behind you. She wanders amidst the shelves and hanging clothes, full of childish wonder. You pause for a moment and smile, remembering the first time you stepped into Alphonse's workshop. How far you've come.
"Did you make all of these yourselves?" she asks, and you nod. You don't have time to make her a custom outfit wholecloth right now, but you have plenty of spare projects that just need a few adjustments to fit. The only thing is figuring out something she will like enough not to take a Zanpakutou to it. If she found trousers chafing, maybe a skirt or a hakama or a dress…
"So you also made your own dress and Cirucci's?" Lilynette asks again, sitting on the corner of a working table and kicking her legs in the air. "They look really neat. I used to think everyone's outfits were so boring."
Well, that's uniforms for her. There was no particular reason for the standardized outfits, given how loose an 'army' the Arrancars are. But Aizen and his Shinigami come from a martial culture where everyone they lived with was a soldier, so they carried this tradition over with them.
"Yeah…" she sighs. "It's kind of sad, you know."
You pause in the middle of sifting through various outfits and give her a curious look.
"We wanted friends, right? And we found them. But it's all about 'being an army' and 'preparing for the big fight' and everyone is so on edge all the time and preparing to kill or be killed and basically it sucks. I just wanted to live in a place with fun people to talk to."
You smile weakly. It's not like you can exactly relate - you didn't come to Las Noches looking for friends. But the clash of hopes and reality was still harsh. At least… At least she's the Fraccion of the Primera? It can't be that hard to make connections, with such status.
"Yeah, right," she says, rolling her eyes. "I have it, like, the worst. I'm not very strong so all the tough guys sneer at me and don't really want to hang out. But I'm also with the Big Guy, so all the not-so-tough are terrified thar if they say something wrong Starrk will look at them like he's slightly bothered and they'll instantly asplode."
That… You guess that must be rough? You remember the looks of terror on the Numeros' faces when you entered their room. It's not really the same, but… That feeling of a gap between you and other people, you can understand it.
"Being strong sucks," Lilynette matter-of-factly. "It drives people off."
You don't know about that. Weakness does the same. When Cirucci was Privaron, no one would associate with her. Without her new power, this gala would never have happened.
"Hmm." Lilynette taps her chin. "Maybe there's some kind of middle point that's best? I dunno."
You idly rub your mask, thinking. She's a child; she doesn't know how to dress properly. She also looks like a child, and is weaker than most Fraccions - maybe all of them, actually - so people dismiss her except to the extent that they're afraid of Starrk.
You need something that makes her feel strong and confident without coming across as a poser. That way people won't try to just avoid the hyperactive girl who has nothing to bring them. They'll respect how she looks, and talks to them, and from there maybe she can make more friends. It's just a small thing, but…
Lapels, a long coat, a hakama… Some emblazoning… She has this very large mask, that resembles a helmet with horns. It's actually quite striking and imposing; contrasted with her current 'outfit' it makes her look all the more silly, in part because the mask itself is so overblown for such a tiny kid. What you have to do is embrace that excess, and make her an outfit to match, until the whole of it becomes a kind of bold persona that can't help but draw the eye.
"How's it to have a boss who isn't a total lazybones?" Lilynette asks. At this point you're far enough into the flow that it doesn't really bother you to answer, your hands almost moving on their own between gestures and tailoring, yet distracted enough that you don't balk at the idea of calling the most powerful of all Arrancars "lazy." Cirucci is a driver, someone who always pushes you to be your best self. You wouldn't be half as strong and skilled as you are today if you didn't have her.
"Huh. But wasn't she just moping around in her fort before she had you?"
You blink, pause, and stare at Lilynette.
Cirucci was not moping.
"Coulda' fooled me! She clearly had all that potential to be Quinta and stuff but she didn't do anything with it, yeah? I'm just sayin', it reminds me of Starrk. If I didn't kick him out of bed every morning he wouldn't be Espada, he would just be That Guy Who Sleeps In A Room Somewhere."
You seriously doubt that's accurate.
"Okay so maybe I'm exaggerating a bit but come on! Your boss-lady had the idea of that party thing but I'm gonna bet that it wasn't her who cooked all the food and gave out the invites and made the banners and… What are you doing!"
You hush her authoritatively while brandishing your measuring tape. After a few moments of Lilynette's confusion you are back at the desk adjusting your old works to her size.
"What I'm saying," Lilynette says folding her arms haughtily, "is that really without us all these fancy-schmancy Espada would be totally lost."
You give her a frustrated grunt. She's just twisting your relationship to Cirucci until it looks like hers and Starrk's. The other Fraccions and Espada are quite different.
"Are they, tho?"
Your eye twitches. You don't know how you managed to hear the difference between her saying "though" and "tho" but you did, and now you are realizing the extent of the damage Cirucci's training in good manners and grace has done to you.
"Like, I'm not calling Tier lazy or anything, but she pretty much wouldn't be here if it weren't for her Tres Besties. She's constantly watching them and what they do here and how they fit in and grow and stuff. And Barragan? If he didn't have his posse to tell him how big and great a king he still is he'd just get depressed and wander off into the sands or somethin'. And Grimmjow! He hates his dudes for being weaker than him and that gets him always pushing on-" she says this with a thrust of her arm, "-'cause he's afraid to be weak as them."
It seems Lilynette has a talent for making you stare at her without a word. When the silence threatens to turn awkward, she gives you a puzzled look, and you shake your head, trying to come to your senses. The fact that she's talking so casually about the Espada, and referring to Harribel by her first name - sure, you've never been given a good reason to avoid doing so when even Barragan is called by his own, but you still know it isn't done - that isn't even what bothers you. What confuses you is that she just told you she had trouble getting anyone to spend time with her, and then drops her half-baked insight in your laps like she actually knows them personally.
"That's the other coin of the silver lining," Lilynette shrugs. "It's hard to make friends and do stuff together, but all the same, when you're the weakest Fraccion and your boss is somebody no one wants to upset, people don't think you're a threat and don't dare send you away at the same time. So you get to hear a lot of stuff other people don't, and no one really realizes you're hearing it, you know?"
No, you don't… You don't know. Every time you've heard things you were not meant to know, it was because you were too insignificant to notice, or because you had taken steps to hide yourself. Now that you're known as Ruddborne's killer and your mistress is the Quinta, that's unlikely to happen. You don't know what it'd be like to be at the midpoint of the two, dismissed as weak but feared because of one's master.
And frankly, you're feeling a bit concerned about Lilynette talking your ear off about how the most powerful beings in Hueco Mundo are really all empty and need their Fraccions to push them to do things. You need a change of topic, and you have one - because speaking of power, you need her to flare her reiatsu.
"Whaaa? Why would you need that?"
You try to compress the complexity of attuning clothing to one's spiritual signature so that the outfit can remain clean at all times and mend minor damage while also automatically adjusting itself for comfort into a short, simple explanation.
Judging from Lilynette's blank stare, you failed. You sigh and just plead her to please flare her reiatsu.
"Fiiiine," she says, in what you feel is the most perfect imitation of Luppi's eye-rolling grudging resignation that someone could manage without knowing him.
Lilynette frowns, her brow creasing, straining visibly, and her reiatsu emerges slowly, a complex scent that is the musk of a un-girl-like beast and the sharpness of… Gunpowder?
It might have been oppressive once, in that time when you were lonely and scared and had not yet spent most of your days basking in Cirucci's power. You're not sure; the flavor of it is odd, though its power is weak. She doesn't feel like a Gillian or an Adjuchas, but is definitely too strong for a base Hollow. You take jacket and hakama and approach her; she shifts uncomfortably as you lay them on her and the threads of La Marana reach for her power and try to weave themselves into it. You give her a reassuring smile - it's just one moment of discomfort and…
...the threads are sucked away. Some faint pull tugs at them, unravels them, and the power drains out of the clothes as it disappears down some kind of…
You blink and unconsciously step back.
You can see it now. There is already a thread connecting Lilynette to something behind this room, some blazing sun of power, collapsed threefold upon itself to keep from irradiating the whole of the Red Chamber, and this power you recognize instantly. Starrk's.
The more you look the more absorbing it is. It's not a thread… It's more like a current, a syphon. A whirlpool. She generates power and it's drained away, down that syphon, to fuel the sun. A wolf sitting beneath an endless stream, drinking and drinking.
"Whass wrong?" Lilynette asks in the far-off distance. You don't answer, your eyes mesmerized by this sight, by the font of power you see before you and its flow far away. Your mind tries to grasp it, to recontextualize it, and you see the torn fabric, the perfect, blinding tapestry that was ripped in half.
You force your mind's eye shut again, clammy hands clutching at the hakama.
She's… she's giving her power to Starrk? How does that work?
"Hm?" Lilynette tilts her head, looking bemused. "Nah, it's not like that. It's our power, we just kinda… split it?"
They… what?
"Yeah, we used to be one Hollow until we broke our mask!"
You stare at her in utter confusion. She simply shrugs.
"It's not like it's a secret or anything, you know? People just don't ask. The other Vastos know, and that creepy science guy prolly? I don't think it came up with anyone else, but we're not trying to hide it."
How does that work, though.
"Well, when you're super-powerful, you constantly make all that energy inside yourself, and when you just make too much, you can't keep it all in, so it just spreads everywhere and kills people. So what we did was, we took the part of us that made all that power, and the part of us that held that power, and we just kinda ripped them away from each other. The part that makes the power became me and the part that holds it became Starrk. I keep making more power and he keeps getting it, but some of it bleeds out from me and doesn't get to him, and with him being this big empty thing now he can store a lot more without it rada… radia… blowing everywhere, and that way now we can hang around folk."
The workshop is eerily silent for a minute as you digest this information.
Raucous laughter from Grimmjow outside reminds you that you don't have time to ponder the mysteries of the Arrancar condition. You take the clothes back onto the desk and reach on top of one of your reagent shelves, taking the reinforced threads you once used in Cirucci's hardened outfit she took to fight Yammy. Weaving it into the outfit takes you a minute, and you not with satisfaction as you hand out the completed work to Lilynette. It should holds against Starrk's spiritual pull now.
"So I should put it on…?" she says hesitantly. You point your chin at a screen you placed there for modesty, and she hops off behind it. Moments later she throws her terrible previous outfit above the screen, and after a minute she gingerly steps from behind it.
"How do I look..? Do you have a mirror?"
You smile brightly and produce a vanity, placing it in front of her. Lilynette stares at her reflection with wide eyes, then twists her hips, her neck to watch herself from various angles… Then her hesitant look turns into a dangerously excited grin.
"I look badass!"
It's definitely not your usual work. The hakama is not the standard cotton-like fabric you use, but a soft kind of Hollow leather, less puffy than the usual trousers. The singlet is simple, letting her have her arms free if she feels the coat is too much covering - but you think it will appeal to her energetic, headstrong tastes; it is far bigger and longer than would be normal for someone her size, with large and heavy cuffs, lapels, and a tall popped collar. It is the white of Las Noches's uniforms - but part of that white is the segmented panels of white bone giving it a slightly armor-like look. You've touched it up with red details, pieces of a Hollow's carapace carved to fit, and one of your adjustments was a stylized wolf's heads, blazing like fire, set in the back. You've replaced her boots with heavy, upraised sandals.
It was meant for Grimmjow, as a gift you could never quite make work. It will suit Lilynette perfectly.
"Thank you!" the childish Arrancars says with a grin - and then tackles you in a surprise hug that knocks the breath out of you. You chuckle a little and gently tap her padded shoulder, and she hops off to look at herself again.
The workshop's door opens and the air grows thicker in an instant; you turn, worried, to find Starrk standing in the doorway looking concerned.
"Hey, is everything all right? I felt Lily flare and…" He pauses as his eyes actually find Lilynette, the words fleeing him.
"The clothes-lady made me new clothes!" Lilynette shouts, waving her arms. "I look turbo-badass now! Just wait 'til Grimmjow's posse sees me with this! Errybody will respect me now!"
"That's… Nice." Starrk says, blinking slowly.
"What are we still doing here? I have to show it off! And there's cake being eaten by people who aren't me!"
The tiny half of whatever monster the Primera once were grabs her partner by the wrist and storms out of the room without looking back, forcefully pulling him. As he leaves, he mouths a silent 'thank you.' You give him a thumbs up.
That was nice. But now you, too, have to go back to the party. Exiting your workshop is like being splashed in the face by a forceful wave - all the combined spiritual pressures coming on you all at once. It's dizzying.
At least things seem to still going well. The last members of the Coro Nocturno are discreetly leaving the room, while Luppi is nowhere in sight - maybe he withdrew to one of the cushioned rooms he arranged above. It's unfortunate you didn't have the time to try and find more Numeros to act as proper servants, but that is what Fraccions are, after all, and so the Espada do not go un-attended.
Keeping an eye on the rest of the guest, you approach Alphonse, and see that he is already talking to someone - as you approach he whirls on his feet, eyes wide with excitement, and pulls on the sleeve of a slightly embarrassed Jackelton.
"You did it!" your mentor exclaims. "I was so worried you couldn't square this particular circle, given the stakes - but you outdid my expectations! The degree of refinement and customization that went into this uniform… This is something I can call myself proud to have helped you design."
You smile awkwardly. You have to admit that you do feel proud of it yourself. You probably couldn't have managed it without Alphonse's help - and the unknowing aid of other friends, too.
Jackelton nods seriously; he has not had much opportunity to thank you for making this uniform, and he wants you to know that this gift means the world to him. Now he has a family again, and a new friend in Gantenbainne - he waves to the Privaron, off talking with Dordonni around a few drinks.
"And you haven't sat idle since you finished it, I see. That beautiful necklace - I can feel the Quinta' power rippling from it."
You shuffle awkwardly. There is also the glove, which you specifically designed after the one Alphonse made for you. You wish you'd had more time to discuss your projects with him lately, but you've been so busy.
"Of course you've been, with such valuable talents. I think…" Alphonse muses, tapping his chin with one finger, "that you will soon know everything I have to teach. Already you are developing your own style, your own personalized form of La Marana; your emphasis on coaxing out the full potential of a single powerful reagents is something that could only be born in Las Noches, where I have learned the art in Hueco Mundo and am much more comfortable weaving more subtle components in greater quantity… Yes… Working together, we might create a masterpiece."
You tilt your head. A masterpiece?
"An item which will symbolized the next step on our path to the mastery of the craft! The next step. Something which will be so perfect, so transcendent that when I look upon it, I know I am no longer a journeyman. Then I can leave and proudly go back to my teacher - and just as proudly leave Las Noches in your hands."
Your eyes widen. You don't want Alphonse to leave! And you really don't think it would be a good idea for you to handle all the clothe-making of the fortress… Alphonse chuckles.
"We are not there yet. These are thoughts for another day, pardon me. Oh, what are these?"
One of the Calaveras has approached your little group, holding a platter on which are laid out a number of sliced, spiced cubes of mushroom-based dough, and you take it with a thanks - and a mild pang of frustration as you realize this would have been the solution to your manpower shortage; you could simply have asked Jackelton to borrow some of his creations to help you with the gala, as they are obedient, silent, and neither need incentives nor fear the Espada. Oh well.
You ask Jackelton how he is enjoying his new kin, and he gives you a dog-like grin. They are much more like him than the old Calaveras were, although their fighting style is a bit odd. This proved an opportunity, however; as they lack the false Zanpakutou of the old models and focus on physical strength and Bala, it has given him an excuse to have Gantenbainne practice with them, which helps the Privaron feel like he is doing something with a purpose. In truth, Jackelton would be completely lost without his friend and terrified of offending someone with his Calaveras's behavior. Gantenbainne doesn't quite see this, however, and so he finds stratagems to make his friend feel useful.
You frown, wondering whether anyone has given Jackelton trouble for his work, and he shrugs it off - some incidents with Loly and Menoly, whom he is very glad aren't here tonight, and he thinks Ulquiorra doesn't trust him to handle the law at all, but he's convinced he will show them in time.
"Don't hold your breath," Alphonse says. "The Quattro and trust are two things that don't go well together. I doubt he ever trusted Ruddborne; rather he saw him as predictable in his self-interested ambition."
The idea that Alphonse might have known Ruddborne personally makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable.
"Ah! No, nothing like it - just, I interacted with his skull-headed minions now and again, using them to carry my deliveries throughout Las Noches. They didn't ask questions and performed competently, but I stopped when Ruddborne started snooping around my shop and I realized he was looking to use our 'relationship' as some tool of advancement, perhaps by obtaining privileged information the Espada might carelessly let me hear."
Interesting. That the late leader of the Exequias hoped to secure a seat among the Espada was an open secret, but you hadn't before heard of him scheming in such a way - although you suppose it fit his skillset.
Actually, that makes you wonder. You ask Jackelton if he knows anything of the odd behavior of the old model Calaveras, who have started acting up in strange ways around Las Noches. He shakes his head, obviously aware of what you're talking about, but not knowing anything about the matter. It's possible that, in Ruddborne's absence, the Calaveras are going through the same stages of developing independence as he once did - he would be glad of it, truly - but it seems doubtful to him. They lack the connection to their master which once fed him while he grew into his own being. Fruits plucked from a tree may change, ripen and eventually rot - but if the fruit is plucked too early it will not grow enough to ever be something one could eat.
You nod slowly. That only makes it even stranger.
You fall quiet to look at the gala for another moment. Lilynette is showing off her new outfit to an admiring Ilforte and Nakeem, while Shawlong looks on with mild exasperation and Starrk and Grimmjow chat off to the side. Cirucci and Aaroniero chatting, even laughing to some joke you can't hear from over there. It is strange to see the always-masked Arrancar whose reiatsu shifted so constantly looking just like a human. Another mask? Then your mistress excuses herself and slides away from the Noveno, towards Harribel. The blue-eyed man watches her go, inscrutable - then turns to you, meets your eyes, and raises his glass with a smirk. You give him a nod.
"Of course you'd be friends with the tailor," comes Luppi's voice from above; he hops to the ground and Jackelton flinches. "Honestly, you must introduce me to more of your pals. Alphonse, is that it?"
The tailor smiles and bows gracefully.
"You know who I am, Antenor. After all, I remember your exacting specifications for your customized uniform. Even if I still don't understand why you needed the open flanks."
"Yes, well, I was proud of showing off my figure," Luppi says rolling his head, "until some people called me flabby. Flabby. Me."
You smirk, and offer him a spiced cube, which he takes with a dejected look.
"I certainly wouldn't use that term," Alphonse says in an appeasing tone. "I don't remember making that sash, though. Nemo's work? It's quite fetching."
Luppi adjusts it around his waist, smiling.
"Yes, indeed. It's kind of a joke, I suppose. One of our early conversations…"
He pauses, and frowns heavily looking at you. You tilt your head, puzzled, and then see his eyes are fixed on… Your left arm.
"Why is my reiatsu coming off you."
Oh.
This is awkward.
"That… That's not leather! That's my skin! It's the skin of my tentacles!"
Very awkward.
"You made a glove out of me?!" Luppi almost shouts, eyes boggling.
Behind you, Jackelton is hunched over, laughing soundlessly, and Alphonse must use a snack to repress a chuckle.
You clear your throat. You were going to mention it, probably, at some point, but…
"I guess it was to be expected," Luppi says, smoothly shifting from visible outrage to a resignated sigh and a shrug. "You really can't live without me, can you?"
...you just had that idea that struck you when… Wait, what?
"It's fine. You're overworked and always scared. Then in comes someone stronger than you, who can do almost anything you can do, someone who can help shoulder the burden of your Fraccion tasks, someone you need but whom you envy..."
That is not accurate at-
"...so you resent them, but they fascinate you. So you make a token, a memento - a pretty creepy one at that, literally a piece of their skin - and you keep it with you always, that you might draw strength from them, no matter how much you wish you didn't need them. It's only human. I understand."
Is he done.
"With you?" Luppi giggles. "Never."
And to top it off, now Jackelton and Alphonse are laughing at you. You've never felt more betrayed. Truly Luppi has earned his nickname.
Well, that's quite enough of that. The opera is going to start soon, and you need to get to it.
"Yes, I suppose our dear guests might get bored and we wouldn't want that. Grimmjow hasn't even started a fight yet, what a shame."
You glare at the boyish Arrancar, and he giggles again.
"You always look at me like I'm going to spoil everything, but really you'd be lost without me! Why, while you were dressing a child and talking to people you already know, I was making valuable political inroads for your… Our 'mistress'!"
That's concerning.
The opera is about to start. First, though, you're discovering that Luppi has been advancing Cirucci's cause among some of the Arrancars - in his particular Luppi-like way. Pick one option.
[ ] After some rather contentious exchanges with Grimmjow, Luppi earned himself (and by extension you and Cirucci) some points in his esteem by taking him up on a dare and ribbing Ulquiorra and Tesla to heir faces over their being here together. Needless to say, Ulquiorra is not amused, but then when is he ever?
[ ] Luppi is at his best when fighting as one against many, and the Tres Bestias learned this in a battle of quips and mockery which did not turn out in their favor. Now they hate him and want to show him up some other time - only Harribel understands that her Fraccions thrive on such bickering, and as a result appreciates Luppi's behavior and respects Cirucci a little more for managing to keep someone like him around.
[ ] It is to Zommari's credit that when Luppi approached him to discuss the nature and power of 'Love,' he managed to steadfastly preach his way through a deluge of double entendres and innuendos. Luppi's mockery hid another genuine attempt at understanding what makes people like you and Cirucci tick, and while Zommari left the conversation feeling he had brought some spark of enlightenment to another soul, the lessons Luppi drew were somewhat different than intended.
