Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!

[THEFROST] · Thu Aug 01, 2013 10:05 pm

THE KING

Artist: John Clarke - Song: The Most Evolved - Word Count: 745

There is a theorem that humans are programmed to reject perfection.

This makes logical sense, of course. It oftentimes seems as if humans entirely, or at least prominently, define their very existence through the misery they feel. They use their pain existentially, as a justification for a practiced and sentient apathy. A human will blame anyone but themselves for the tragedies and cruelties of the reality they are so doomed to live in. This is because the second they blame themselves, they are forced to accept that they are flawed, and that they are only prevented from attaining perfection because they refuse to see the truth.

Nowhere on Earth is there a better example of this folly than in the barren expanse of debris, rubble, and desert commonly referred to as "the wastelands".

It was, of course, inevitable for this to come to pass.

Gleaming cities with buildings reaching skyward, as if to touch the very clouds, or even the heavens themselves.. Vast expanses of villages, farmland, factories, and et cetera.. Shining and gleaming examples of how humanity and nature can coexist.. These areas were a brilliant reminder of human potential, and of progress.

It was only natural that it would all be decimated.

There was nothing left now but... scarred earth and rubble. A horrible and twisted remnant of a by-gone era of reconstruction... It was, at once, tragic and.. amusing. Perfection was nearly achieved... but the human beings rejected it. Perhaps there was more weight to that theorem than was credited?

Humans simply destroyed. That's all there was to it. It was.. quite apparent that, despite their classification, they weren't actually mammals.

Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural... equilibrium with the surrounding environment. The humans do not. They move to an area, and they multiply, and multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way they can survive is to spread to another area.

There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern.

A virus.

Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet, they are a plague.

How long until someone found a cure?

These were the thoughts coursing through the mind of the one known as Ulquiorra Schiffer as he passed idly through the deserted landscape. While it was ruinous and barren, it made for a good place to drift if one was looking to be the only living thing within a hundred miles. The lazy, blistering wind tossed Ulquiorra's hair about his face, whipping it occasionally against the half-mask that still remained atop his head. His uniform from the days past in which he was a member of the Espada was still present, the white fabric of it reflecting the light and making his pale skin seem.. even more so. He looked up, the black marking below each of his eyes a hint of his focus point as he gazed skyward. There was.. something here. Something.. familiar.

It seemed there was a slight intrusion to his solitude.

Quickly locating the spiritual energy, Ulquiorra had only made it a few meters closer to the source before he heard the all-too-recognizable roar across the empty plains. Yes. It was him. This was.. troublesome.

Ulquiorra wasted no time from this point, switching from his regular pace to quick bursts of sonido, rapidly arriving at a point not a hundred meters from the man who had called out to him. The former sixth espada.. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

Ulquiorra let out a sigh, speaking softly, slowly, in a measured tone that sounded.. almost robotic.

"Not so loud, Grimmjow. I see you are still as.. unhinged as I remember." He slipped his hands into the pockets of his uniform, his acid-green eyes casting a judgemental gaze directly at the other arrancar. "Do not mistake me for even an instant, your infantile taunts and empty threats are not what summoned me here. Do not assume any level of control over the situation. I am here out of curiosity, and not a single thing more." It was amazing, really, how well his voice could carry over the distance, despite his eerie and gently manner of tone.

"Am I correct in assuming you had a reason for yelling so loudly once you sensed me here? Or.. perhaps you were simply blowing smoke like the untrained beast that I know you to be?"

[THEFROST] · Fri Aug 02, 2013 10:54 am

THE KING

Artist: Bleach - Song: Fiesta De Guerra - Word Count: 890

Ulquiorra's gaze was firmly locked on the other arrancar. Many things had changed over the past long while that Ulquiorra had been... away. However, it was both amusing and interesting to see that Grimmjow had not changed much at all.

Time was supposed to be a chance for change, for growth.. But apart from strength, it appeared as if Grimmjow had learned nothing. He was still the same arrogant, brash loose cannon that he always had been.

Of course, Ulquiorra knew that this could be as much his advantage as it was Grimmjow's failing.

"And you're just as much of a narcississy. A reason? Is two ceros to the face a good enough reason?"

Too easy. As Grimmjow disappeared from sight, so too did Ulquiorra himself. So rapidly did Ulquiorra move, that by the time Grimmjow's hands were pushing up toward Ulquiorra's past location, Ulquiorra was already standing behind Grimmjow, analyzing his old rival with a critical and judgemental eye.

"As for reason… Well.. That'd be none other then seeing your face grimace from shock at your inability to keep up with me! Ahahahaha!"

Ulquiorra let out a soft "tch" from between his lips, almost entirely inaudible if one wasn't listening for it, as if scolding a child.

"You understand, of course, that your words are meaningless. It is not a matter of keeping up with you. This implies that your speed surpasses mine. Allow me to explain, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

Ulquiorra faced the former sexta, hands both secured in the pockets of his robe, his acidic eyes fixing their icy stare into the blue counterparts of the other.

"You are an animal. A beast to be kept entertained until he can be uncerimoniously put down. Understand this, and accept it as fact, for there is no escaping the inevitable. No matter how stubborn you are, the outcome will be the same."

"Let's rock!"

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed. Of course. Grimmjow never was one to listen to reason in any sense, much less in a setting where there was the chance of battle or violence of any sort. As Grimmjow launched himself at Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra's eyes observed carefully, calculatingly, trying to discern exactly where the attack would come from. Then, he saw it, the foot arcing in the attempt to collide with his side. Ulquiorra moved to step out of range of the swing, his sonido carrying him a short distance away. However, Grimmjow wasn't going to be that easy to outmaneuver, and as Grimmjow launched toward him, the two sword slices found their mark. Ulquiorra was thankful, at least, for his hierro, which had saved him quite a bit of damage, the slices creating only minor gashes along his torso and right arm. The next move, however, Ulquiorra saw coming.

"EAT IT!!"

Announcing one's attacks was truly ridiculous, and it astounded Ulquiorra how this man had ever won a battle with that sort of blabbering. As the Cero came forward, Ulquiorra quickly sonidoed backwards, if only to get out of point-blank range, before firing a cero of his own directly into the center of the mass of energy, creating a battle of energies in the sky. While he wasn't sure if it would be his cero that won, he did use the time wisely, utilizing his sonido once again to get behind Grimmjow once again, shooting another Cero off, this one directly at the back of the former sexta's head. As soon as this cero would release, Ulquiorra would disappear from sight once again, appearing in front of Grimmjow, although with a bit of distance between them, allowing the sexta to speak as Ulquiorra slipped his hands back into the pockets of his robe.

"You ALWAYS pissed me off, acting like you were superior to me. Well, guess you weren't exactly expecting to be outsmarted by this untrained beast, were ya, ya damn narcississy? So, you stoic shit… got enough facial muscles to grimace when I kick your ass?"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes for but a moment, his head lowering in thought.

"I see.." He said simply before his eyes once again opened, the acidic, green orbs once again locking onto Grimmjow, staring begrudgingly at him as one would at an animal that had just disobeyed its master.

"If that is truly your wish, then attack me. By all means, fight me, give it your all, and attempt your hardest to win. But I promise you.." He slipped his right hand out of the pocket, moving it over to the hilt of his Zanpakutō and gently slipping his fingers around the hilt, drawing it slowly and methodically from the sheath, allowing the slow metallic hiss of metal on wood resonate menacingly through the air. Once the sword was free, Ulquiorra placed his left foot behind his right, turning into a stance that was at once offensive and defensive, the tip of his blade pointed directly at Grimmjow, his left hand still secure in his pocket. "..the only result will be my showing you that the gap in power is still there. The one that you couldn't have possibly bridged, even if I had been absent for a thousand years, Grimmjow. He finished confidently, his gaze still locked firmly on the other.

[THEFROST] · Wed Aug 28, 2013 7:16 pm

THE KING

Artist: Shiro Sagisu - Song: Sakkaku - Word Count: 1254

Well, at the very least, Grimmjow's knack for the vulgar was retained over the last four hundred years.

"SHIT!"

Ulquiorra almost felt sorry for the poor creature. As the blood dripped from Grimmjow's forearms, Ulquiorra only solidified the obvious in his head. Grimmjow had still not closed that gap. The power difference between the two of them was still too large for the former sexta to ever close. It was obvious that this would end exactly how Ulquiorra had predicted it to. But then again, was there ever any doubt?

"LIKE I NEED YOUR PERMISSION!"

"Tch." Drawing his sword? What was that going to help? If he could not touch the cuatro before, what made him think that a few more inches of reach would help? These delusions would get him nowhere, except maybe the depths of Hell itself, as that was the only logical place for this line of thinking to take Grimmjow.

"We'll see about that, won't we, Narcississy…"

Ulquiorra opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Grimmjow was rushing at him again. Another disobedient act of the rebelling beast. Ulquiorra angled his blade as Grimmjow surged forward, aiming to block this meaningless attack. However.... It seemed Grimmjow had learned a thing or two in the time that Ulquiorra had been away.. That trick was not one he was familiar with. As the red energy gathered on Grimmjow's blade, Ulquiorra's eyes widened, only slightly, a show of being caught off guard, and nothing more. As the blade of energy screamed into Ulquiorra's position, Ulquiorra pushed his blade into the red mass, slicing it in half as the two halves seperated and went two different directions around Ulquiorra, seeming not to yield as they fired around his being before dissipating, leaving the former cuatro untouched.

"Like you even know what a fight IS!"

Ulquiorra's eyes closely followed Grimmjow as he disappeared and appeared from view, his eyes carefully observing the movement, the muscles, the patterns. It seemed erratic, but there was a method to the madness, just like with anything else. Even if there seemed not to be. Ulquiorra was ready, at least in part, as Grimmjow appeared in front of him. Ulquiorra quickly and precisely tilted his blade, blocking the downward arc of the sword as his left arm came out of his pocket, raising rapidly with the palm facing Ulquiorra's own self and the hand balled into a fist. Thusly, Ulquiorra would block the punch intended for his face, but not without damage, as the punch was enough to crack his hierro considerably. Huh. Interesting. As the bolt of lightning shot out toward Ulquiorra, he only barely reacted in time, twisting away from his defensive stance and dropping his left hand as the lightning screamed past, obliterating that part of Ulquiorra's tunic, and leaving a long, thin cut along Ulquiorra's skin, which began to bleed, only slightly. This new position, however, prepared Ulquiorra for what was next. As Grimmjow pivoted, Ulquiorra watched the move, simply changing the angle of his blade as Grimmjow's met his once more, a loud "clang" reverberating through the air as metal met metal once again. With a loud buzzing noise, Ulquiorra was gone, his sonido carrying him back a few meters from Grimmjow.

"Oh, BUT HOW could I forget your apathy? You can't feel ANYTHING, much less A FIGHT!" Ulquiorra blinked as Grimmjow appeared before him once more. Ulquiorra brought his own blade close to himself, using the steel to his advantage once more as he defends himself. Grimmjow really was in an agitated state it seemed, he was aiming to kill. That was fine. The more mad he got, the more mistakes he would make. Attempting once again to gain some ground, Ulquiorra stepped backwards in another sonido, his green eyes narrowing critically at Grimmjow.

"SO COME ON, YOU DAMN…. ROCK!"

His patience was rewarded, as was his observation. Ulquiorra had been watching as Grimmjow shot forward, observing everything from the stance to the speed. When Grimmjow disappeared, Ulquiorra was not surprised. This, he was ready for. Planting both feet into the ground, Ulquiorra bent backward at the waist, the punch intended for him instead meeting only empty air. This wasn't all that Ulquiorra had planned, however, and as Grimmjow put his force into this punch, Ulquiorra's left hand pointed up at the panther's face, a quick collection of acid green energy giving only a brief warning for what was to come, as the former cuatro loosed a torrent of energy forth in the form of his signature cero, the green blast shooting up toward Grimmjow. Assuming Grimmjow would either take this hit, or attempt to block or dodge, Ulquiorra slid one foot to the side, disappearing in a buzz of sonido as he appeared, upright on his feet, a bit of distance now regained between the two. It seemed, however, that Grimmjow had the same idea.

"I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW YOU GOT TO BE ThE CUATRO!"

As the bala flew toward him, Ulquiorra's true speed was shown, his sword slicing through the energy blasts as they came toward him, nearly doubling the energy as the now-bisected blasts that would've otherwise hit him screamed past, colliding with the ground and throwing up a ridiculous amount of dust and rubble. When the last of the energy had past Ulquiorra, he sliced his blade down, as if cleansing something from it, his gaze locked, as ever, on the blue-haired former espada.

"DO YOU EVEN DESERVE AN INVITATION FROM ME? HUH?!"

"..." With nothing more than a second between these words and empty air, Ulquiorra was gone from sight, appearing in a crouching stance in front of Grimmjow. With not even his movement held back, Ulquiorra's blade came up, slicing in an upward diagonal line toward Grimmjow's torso, aiming to sever at least one artery, and possible bisect his heart. However, this wasn't the end of his attack, as another acid green ball, already gathered on his free hand, shot forward in another cero toward the air in which Grimmjow was present. Using the momentum from this blast, Ulquiorra would slide backward along the ground before pushing off, rapidly propelling himself toward Grimmjow, his sword held in the typical fencing style as he stabbed forward four times, rapidly. Once for the right shoulder, once for the forehead, once for the throat, and once for the left eye. Once these attacks were completed, Ulquiorra would disappear once more, appearing next to Grimmjow as he would slash his blade toward the former sexta's neck, mirroring Grimmjow's own attack. But he had other plans. Instead of completing this motion, Ulquiorra would disappear once more, assuming that Grimmjow would have put some form of force into a counterattack. Using the assumed-to-be occupied attention of the other to his advantage, Ulquiorra re-appeared horizontally in the air above Grimmjow with his left hand pointed down at the panther, gathering more acid-colored energy at the the tip of his finger rapidly before firing it all at once, directly down at the former sexta's head, mirroring an action from their fight all those centuries ago..

He would not speak, he would not reply. Not yet. Grimmjow had lost the right to answers, just as a rebellious dog has lost right to its treats.

[THEFROST] · Thu Aug 29, 2013 5:57 pm

THE KING

Artist: Johann Sebastian Bach - Song: Toccata and Fugue - Word Count: 1751

Regardless of all of the moves and actions that Grimmjow had thus performed being ones that Ulquiorra could, at the very least, keep up with, the former sexta continued to do the one thing that Ulquiorra never understood about him. He kept laughing. Even when he was being overtaken, swallowed, or out-maneuvered, that vile cackle remained constant through all of it. Even as the blue-haired arrancar took the brunt of the cero, the laugh still reverberated through the air. What was funny? What was so amusing about taking hits, or giving them? Where was the focus? The precision? It seemed absent. That.. wasn't so much confusing as it was bewildering. It was an anomaly to Ulquiorra. But that was okay. He didn't have to understand it. He would simply crush Grimmjow until his ribcage punctured his diaphragm, and the laughter would finally cease.

Grimmjow was a fierce combatant. That much was painfully obvious. He was not only matching, but in some ways besting Ulquiorra's sword skill and speed. Blocking the upward slash, dodging all but one of the stabbing motions that Ulquiorra had made toward him.. He was just as determined to prolong this battle as Ulquiorra was to end it, it seemed. Even utilizing the sonido to avoid the lethal attack aimed for the throat. How much had he been training? What kind of grudge, or resolve, did Grimmjow have? To grow this strong? What was he attempting to prove?

As Ulquiorra executed the next maneuver, Grimmjow's retaliation was expected. It was the exact same trick he had used, what seemed so long ago. Or.. perhaps not. Ulquiorra had made a mistake in assuming Grimmjow was simply an old dog with old tricks. Even as the ceros collided with nothing but empty air and ground, the explosion climbing, Ulquiorra sensed the sexta above him, just a moment too late. As the feet made contact with Ulquiorra's back, he quickly raised his blade, shoving it into the oncoming energy, splitting the barrage of combined cero down the middle as the force of the kick sent him rapidly toward the ground. Right before he made contact, he disappeared, his sonido carrying him some distance away. It was then that something happened which he didn't think was possible. For a moment.. just an instantaneous modicum of time.. he lost track of Grimmjow. The former sexta's blade had seemingly disappeared while Ulquiorra had been regaining his footing. And then, Grimmjow was before him, the blade of the other rapidly slashing downward. And it indeed met its mark, as the vicious slash carved a long line down Ulquiorra's chest. Ulquiorra's eyes widened as the attack connected, disappearing once more and reappearing several meters back, placing a hand to his chest and pulling it away once more, looking down at his fingertips to observe the blood from his wound. He closed his eyes, his composure once again completely indifferent as his gaze returned to Grimmjow, his eyes narrow once more. It was thanks to his hierro that the slash did not cut more deeply, or kill him entirely, but his blood had now been drawn, and it was obvious that Grimmjow would not be satisfied with just that.

Ulquiorra watched the flowing blood, the preparations for what was now obviously a Gran Rey. While he had indeed anticipated it, he did not account for how infinitely more strong the attack had become under Grimmjow's usage. As the attack screamed forth, Ulquiorra reacted as quickly as he could. Charging as quickly as his reiatsu would allow, Ulquiorra let loose a cero of his own directly into the heart of the oncoming attack as it changed direction attempting to hit him. As soon as the cero was loosed, Ulquiorra sonidoed backwards rapidly, attempting to get out of range of the resulting explosion. And he would have, had it been the same strength as it was four hundred years ago. However, things had changed immensely it seemed, and as the explosion ripped the very air apart, Ulquiorra was caught on the very edge of the mass, his arrancar attire shredding everywhere from the arms, to the legs, to the torso, his hierro burning severely as black marks covered his flesh. When the energy finally subsided, Ulquiorra had but a moment to breath before he observed Grimmjow on the move once more, running toward him at a nearly unintelligible speed.

As Grimmjow grabbed what was left of Ulquiorra's vestments, the acid-green eyes of the former cuatro stared directly at Grimmjow, his gaze unmoving, his expression unchanging, even as his hierro buckled and cracked as he was smashed through building after building, before finally being released by the Sexta.

"Tch." Ulquiorra made the noise as if it were a chore simply to be here, his head rising slightly as he looked up, disappearing in a flash of Sonido as he would appear high above Grimmjow, roughly twenty feet of distance between them as Ulquiorra stood on a platform of his own reiatsu, looking down at the blue-haired arrancar, his own sword held at his side.

"Comrades are weakness. They distract one from the tasks at hand. They take away from the potential of those around them with pointless raillery and endless caterwauling. Subjects? Subjects are pawns. Pieces in a game. Nothing more. You act as if you understand how I think, but you couldn't be farther from the truth. One does not have to be a king to be superior. Do you think a king is the voice of his own laws and regulations? Nonsense. There are others, behind the curtain, that hold the true power. Those who speak in the ear of the King, regulate his life, words, and actions.. because it is necessary to do so. Kings are arrogant, they are blowhards, they are unworthy of command. That's why they need to be kept on a short leash. They need to be told what to do, and watched closely, otherwise they will bring about only foolishness. And for what? Their own bravado? Nonsense." Ulquiorra rattled off, his gaze never leaving Grimmjow. "By that logic then, Grimmjow. You would be the one who would be called King. I am simply the one who works behind the curtain. The one intended to hold the leash. Or, if necessary..." He trailed off, lifting his sword arm as he pointed his blade downward at Grimmjow. "...find a replacement for an obsolete, indolent, and belligerent pest once they become little more than trash to be taken out."

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, "I will applaud you on the growth of your abilities, but if you expect me to allow you to make such pointless accusations, well then I suppose I will simply have to pull the leash just a little bit more assertively.. and show you.. why after all this time.. you are still far out of your reach by challenging me.."

His lips curved as he prepared to speak, his eyes opening once more as the next words left his mouth.

"...Enclose... Murciélago."

As soon as the words were spoken, the very sky was torn asunder by a huge burst of black and green spiritual energy from Ulquiorra's being. As the torrent of energy met the air, it fell toward the ground below, and Grimmjow, in the form of what was practically a monsoon of green rain. The dirt below soaked through, deepening in color.. and the very air seemed to shake with spiritual pressure as the energy cleared, and Ulquiorra stepped forward...

His Resurrección was something to behold. The black, bat-like wings that spread from his back made one brief flapping motion in the air, dispelling the rest of the energy as Ulquiorra looked down at Grimmjow once more. Not only were his clothes back, but they were even moreso complete now, the typical two-part combination now replaced by one long, flowing, form-fitting, robe-like vestment. One black line ran down the middle, from the hem all the way up to his neckline, which was now a bit longer, almost like a turtle-neck. Two more black lines, more thin than the center line, made an "X" over his chest, with the center of the "X" being where his hollow hole was, directly over the center of his upper torso. The lines beneath his eyes are now a darker black, more broad, and more triangular, and his fingernails have considerably lengthened, more claw-like than anything now. Along with his fingernails, his hair has also lengthened, becoming more wild than before. His mask-fragment, the helmet atop his head, has changed as well, growing to cover the entirety of the top of his head. the side of the mask seeming to be entirely gone now, along with this, the top had also extended into two long horns that extended outward to the side toward the front.

Ulquiorra was grateful for the closing of the wound on his chest. There was no longer so much as a marking from Grimmjow's attack from previously. Without so much as a word, Ulquiorra flexed his fingers open, an acid-green javelin of pure energy appearing in his hand before he hurled it at Grimmjow with blinding speed. Not even a moment passed before he disappeared in an instantaneous sonido, appearing to Grimmjow's right and hurling another javelin, repeating this to the left before disappearing almost entirely for a moment, appearing right in front of Grimmjow, a javelin prepared in one hand, and a ball of acid-green energy prepared in the other, as he stabbed it directly toward Grimmjow's torso with one hand. Whether or not Grimmjow took this attack, Ulquiorra would shove forward his other hand, the green energy exploding forth in a cero. It was nowhere near the same, however, as the boost given to him by his resurrección sufficient to exponentially increase the strength of it, increasing the size and speed as well. It slammed forward with the force of a bullet-train into the air that Grimmjow had occupied. Immediately after firing this, Ulquiorra disappeared from sight again, appearing some distance away and hurling another javelin at Grimmjow, followed by a second, and then a third. As quickly as he had appeared, Ulquiorra was gone again, appearing on the ground, his fingers wrapped around another created Javelin as he awaited Grimmjow's retaliation to his assault, his free hand hanging idly by his side.

"You are now, and always have been, utter trash, Grimmjow."

Sun Oct 04, 2015 12:55 pm

✖| Clean Up Time!! |✚

┣▇▇▇═─ ▸ ☠ ◂ ─═▇▇▇┥

It's been 2014 or even before that!
There for I will be locking this thread, feel free to revisit this and keep on reading!

Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!

Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!

Re: Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!

Re: Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!

Re: Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!

Re: Cat Vs Bat! Wing vs King!