Reaching Out

For a long time Nagato Tengan had been aware of the now-well known Hollow who had taken up residence in one of America's most prominent and infamous cities. Unlike the majority of his kind who was now under the rule of his imperial Espada, which had recently officially taken control over Hueco Mundo by defeating Rose Mischevang and sacking the realm's capital Las Rejilla, this individual apparently sought to remain entirely autonomous in the living world. As essentially the Serene Doge of Las Vegas, Yaksha Dokuja, according to reports, spent his time running casinos and businesses with little to no contact with any major forces in the world, evidently remaining outside the bounds of World War 4 and prior conflicts. Though an oddity among his own kind, a race of ferocious and monstrous beings largely dead-set on gaining power, Nagato chalked Yaksha's unique worldview and motivations up to the Hollow's age. Though unsure of any exact numbers, it was apparent the man was quite old even for a Spiritual Being. At over 60,000 years old, Nagato had that in common with him.

Knowing the consequences of personally making an appearance on Earth, much less in a war-torn country split by opposing forces that all happened to be his enemies, Nagato instead opted to send forth his right hand man: Kimimaro Kaguya. This Arrancar, robotic in personality and stature, seemed an odd choice to visit something as human as a casino; yet only he could be entirely trusted with Nagato's intentions. As such, the grey-haired Arrancar entered Las Vegas' largest and most prolific casino and hotel still clad in his extended lavender shirt and sandals. Along with the unchanging and robotic expression on his face, even among the rabble in a casino like this Kimimaro stood out like a sore thumb. Unaware of typical human customs and normality, the Arrancar immediately strode up to the front desk and requested to speak to the hotel's proprietor. When told scheduling a meeting wasn't so simple, he stood in place and spoke with unwavering and chilling purpose.

"On behalf of Nagato Tengan and the Espada, I wish to confer with Yaksha Dokuja. Immediately."

He had been deep in meditation, doing his best to sort through the information that was streaming through his mind almost non-stop; here, a minor traffic violation. There, a hollow being a little too eager in trailing a human couple to their place of employment. Every time, Yaksha experienced them with the fresh eyes of his own mobile regiment, darting this way and that. Just a few more lights in a city renowned for the like, needles in the proverbial haystack. There was always something ridiculous going on in the city, but today in particular it was the day he had been preparing for, perhaps even dreading, for a while now.

The King of Hueco Mundo was now knocking on his door, and it was time for that ever-so-tedious conversation, the one that never changed no many how many times he had it. He watched from a thousand different sets of eyes, as an arrancar walked the streets with such little concern for the surroundings that Yaksha could almost believe he was blind. Even so, the man seemed to know with remarkable accuracy just where he was operating today. There was almost no pause between his arrival and his trek towards Yaksha's casino.

Yaksha rose from his seated position, opening his own eyes and blinking them slowly a few times, as if to acclimate himself to the notion of seeing through eyes connected by nerves and cells, as opposed to links of spirit energy and familiarity. There was a delay of perhaps ten seconds as he stretched, limbering up his body with the same sort of efficacy one would use after spending a few months bedridden, and needing physical therapy. He spread one wing, and then the other, before opening the door to his office, and walking straight through it. Normally, he would've taken the courtesy of ducking through the doorway, if only to make the effort of seeming human. Today, however, he simply phased directly through the steel and stone, limbs and wings occupying the same space as the building as if he were simply walking through mist. He walked towards the signature of spirit energy that had walked uninvited into his territory, his expression completely hidden behind his alabaster mask.

"Janice. I'll handle this."

The secretary didn't bother to look over her shoulder, though there was the faintest hint of a shudder as she nodded, rising to gesture for Kimimaro to pass him. Even now, Yaksha didn't spare the time to meet Kimimaro's gaze, or acknowledge him in any way. He pivoted back on the balls of his feet, walking back towards the office he'd stepped out of, on the first floor of all places. One typically expected the proprietor of a place like this to work from the very top, overseeing things literally as well as figuratively. Yaksha considered that a very effective method as well, which was why he'd strewn a few dozen of himself in the rafters above, making no more impact than a disco ball's thrown-off light would in the setting. There was no need for anything so ostentatious as a high-rise perch for him to stand on. Not when he could quite literally say he knew this city like he knew the back of his own hand.

He didn't speak until he had returned to his office, once more going completely through the doorway. In the room, surrounded by opalescent light from fluorescent bulbs bright enough to scour away even the slightest hint of a shadow, Yaksha's skin seemed to be covered in scrawls of blood. Every scale on his body had a tiny red rune, each one drawn in with remarkable penmanship. They seemed to twitch and writhe as one looked at them, defying examination by altering themselves even as they were being examined. He let the display go on for about ten seconds, before folding his hands over his chest, and inhaling slowly. It was a single gesture, but it carried with it more meaning than any words he could've spoken. It was the sound of someone steeling themselves for an irksome task they nevertheless knew they needed to do, like donating blood or meeting in-laws. He spoke in ruminative, vague tones, making it hard to tell at first if he was talking to Kimimaro or not.

"I caution all who would deign to confer with me the same thing. Think twice before uttering every single word, because I will not hesitate to put one to task for a mis-spoken utterance. In your case, I think I should insist you think three times, or perhaps even four. Given the nature of your visit today, I am going to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in dissecting everything you say. To whit: If you want to confer with me, you can leave immediately. I care not what you, or Nagato, or anyone from Hueco Mundo has to say about my city. If you wish to confer on me...then I would be extremely curious what you plan to offer a man who has everything."

Ignoring the lack of pleasantries or greetings, not being one to care for or dwell on either, Kimimaro Kaguya mechanically followed in the direction the casino's proprietor headed in. His movements were somehow both relaxed and robotically stiff in that while it was clear he didn't walk like any kind of living creature, one would struggle to detect any level of anxiousness or hesitation despite walking directly into the den of a somewhat unknown quantity. To him, any possible threat could either be vanquished or wasn't worth interrupting his mission for if for no other reason than Kimimaro's dedication to the cause. Even still, like a machine programmed for war the Arrancar remained cognizant of every possibility his altered and enhanced mind could generate. All entrances and exists, security personnel, cameras, and possible dangers should this meeting develop any hiccups were being collected and analyzed by Kimimaro's supercomputer-like brain; all while following in Yaksha's path.

Upon reaching Yaksha's office, Kimimaro opened it's door and silently closed it behind him; not for any particular reason related to politeness or need to keep the meeting's contents secret, he was just programmed that way. An odd thing to include, but Ashlei Clixx had been quite holistic in her alterations and designs; after all, if he was to be her greatest servant than he must understand all there is to life. Or, rather, be capable of all there is. Understanding was not something Kimimaro was exactly a master of, at least outside of combat. In that regard few could claim his equal, an advantage of basically having millions of battle scenarios downloaded into his brain. In terms of cultural or social norms and practices, few could also claim his equal in lack of understanding. In truth the one thing left out of his programming was empathy, the key not just to human emotion but also to true understanding of symbols and those around him. No such thing was necessary for his current role as commander of his master's armies.

Yet on today he found himself working more diplomatically than 'see enemy, kill enemy'. At least, that was the goal anyway. Upon entering the Hollow's office he walked an appropriate distance and observed the man's display of what seemed to be either assertiveness, annoyance, or a mixture of the two. A more insecure individual may react in some unseemly way, but Kimimaro simply stared head-on with a deadpan look splattered across his emotionless face. Both Hollows and Arrancar were known for aggression and physical displays of emotion, especially through much less nuanced ways than humans; if one was angry, it lashed out and killed; if one was happy, it lashed out and killed. Such a truth didn't seem to hold true for the two men currently hidden away in a casino's office. While one was practically a machine in terms of emotion, the other seemed far more human than most Hollows could claim to be in that regard.

Like a computer, Kimimaro took in Yaksha's words as data and analyzed every syllable. It seemed directness would be the name of the game here today. "I am not here for threats, Yaksha Dokuja; to give or receive. Despite your apparent disinterest, perhaps you have heard of recent events in Hueco Mundo. Leading my lord's forces, I sacked Las Rejilla and demolished Shadow Fall's seat of power in Las Viviente. Nagato Tengan successfully defeated Rose Mischevang in single combat and drove out the final vestiges of Shadow Fall's influence in Hueco Mundo. Now the Espada rises once again." Had the Hollow been unaware of these developments, or at least not entirely clued in on them, this news could potentially be rather surprising or at least raise an eyebrow. Kimimaro continued on regardless "Today I am here not just representing myself, Nagato, or the Espada; my presence is a symbol for the entire realm of Hueco Mundo."

Whether Yaksha felt like responding to his words would not deter Kimimaro from continuing afterward, still yet having more to say "Hueco Mundo is not enough, however. My lord's gaze now turns to the other worlds, especially Soul Society but also the Living Realm. You are an ingrained Hollow in this land, and as such represent a point of interest for him. In truth despite all our information on you, your overall battle power is not entirely clear; as such, while I am meant to offer you a position in the Espada it is not obvious where you would stand should you accept. Whether you do or not does not sway the discussion however, as there is loftier meaning to our meeting. The Earth shall be razed and made into a hunting ground for our kind. In Nagato's words, "We are meant to be predators. They are meant to be prey." Such a world likely would not be all that lucrative for you...thus why I am here. To discuss what kind of world you seek to live in."

Yaksha watched Kimimaro with a distressing amount of focus, a quiet and intense sense of interest that was almost perverse in its own way. Very few people would've been able to -listen- that intensely, his ears almost creating a sort of vacuum as he let every word enter his head and marinate there. The entire contents made his stomach churn, almost from the first words out of his mouth. He spoke of 'apparent' disdain, as if it were something he couldn't actually fathom on his own. Perhaps, in a sense, he couldn't. Cultists always did have a hard time understanding the mindsets of outsiders, didn't they? It was why they stayed isolated so effectively, so their maladjustments couldn't be spotted until it was too late.

He began to drum fingers on the desk in front of him around the time that Nagato began to mention other realms. The entire conversation was painfully boring, every line almost hilarious in its transparency. This was what people rallied behind as the King? The one they preferred over Shadow Fall, as if it made any difference in the slightest who sat on the thtone? Yet even now, Yaksha just listened, his entire posture and demeanor portraying the deeply offended pride he'd held from the very moment that this arrancar had entered his city, demanding a moment of his time. That sheer level of entitlement was something Yaksha had never liked, and the few times he'd run across those with it, he had almost immediately disliked them.

In Kimimaro's case, he didn't just dislike him, he despised him. The flat affect with which he spoke made Yaksha want to slap him, to throw something at him, to simply interrupt him in the middle of every sentence, to get -any- sort of emotional reaction out of him. Yet still he sat there, drinking in every detail of the man in front of him. From the way he sat to the pauses he inserted, every bit of the demeanor was ingrained into his minds' eye, turned over like a Rubix cube, and then summarily dismissed as a creature designed to follow orders. Nothing more, nothing less. There was no more point to trying to debate with this creature than there was a mirror. No, even less so: At least a mirror would give him something pleasant to look at as he spoke.

When the pitch was laid out bare in front of him, he folded both hands over the table, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly, and giving off a sigh. It wasn't a sign of disgust or disappointment, simply the sort of heavy exhalation one would expect from a person who had been holding their breath for a long time, or waiting for something that had since passed. He didn't bother moving from the seat, as he spoke in his own voice, once more carefully modulated to have every trace of anger eradicated. It was, despite being almost as monotone as Kimimaro, able to radiate animosity and vitriol heavy enough to feel like a concentrated dose of acid being poured on him.

"So then it's a declaration of war. Very well, your message is received, and you can go now. As I'm sure you can imagine, I'm going to be very busy in the next few months, while you plan your own invasion. As for your farcical little remark on my strength remaining untested...you should consider why your lord saw fit to send you instead of someone more expendable. I daresay the fact he denied me even the most base pleasure of killing the messenger is all I need to know about his feelings on us seeking forms of enjoyment he disapproves of."

The way Yaksha was able to lace the word 'us' with meaning sent the message loud and clear. Though he'd never once spoken the words, the distinction of 'we' and 'they' was lain perfectly clear, bared for Kimimaro's inspection.

"The Espada never rose. I shouldn't expect either you or your lord to understand that. The times change, and people like you do not."