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taisuki
taisuki
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Fri Apr 28, 2017 1:17 am






The Royal, raven haired Kuchiki let out a hefty sigh of seeming annoyance; her icy fingertips dancing against the familiar, cool glass neck of a bottle of chilled wine. Her footsteps were virtually silent albeit for the sound of the soles of her ankle-boots rang out against the pavement. Her newest acquaintance, Yaksha Dokuja, had invited her to return upon the adjournment of their evening Poker battle, a fortnight before.

Quite frankly, Rukia didn’t know what the Hollow had in mind, being that she had already laid out the terms of their budding friendship — ergo, she had made it known that she only has eyes, and heart for her Strawberry; and seeing as she was on a reconnaissance mission for the Division at the moment, she gandered, “Why the hell not?” and threw most, but not all, of her refined caution to the wind.

So there she was. Traipsing her way across the asphalt of a parking-lot to the man’s abode, donning a combination of World of The Living clothes that made her feel embarrassingly uncovered, not daring to wear her Shihakusho again when visiting her Hollow friend, as the Vegas heat would melt her alive beneath the heavy, black fabric of her neatly pressed and starched Shinigami uniform. Vegas was hot. Too hot for the icy Shinigami’s liking. Rukia hated the way the humid air clung to her slim frame, as if she were trapped in a sauna, and bound by an ever tightening full-body noose, with no escape — beads of sweat forming at the nape of her neck — which then travelled its course down her milky flesh, disappearing beneath the soft fabric of her clothing: a black sundress without sleeves, taken in at the waist, hiding her boyish figure, and draping along her hips in a flattering manner.

It was the only tasteful item of clothing she could find in Vegas, for the rest were all suitable for harlots and concubines. But that's digression, of course. Rukia climbed the stairs that lead to Yaksha's not-so-humble abode — hovering upon the very last stair for a moment, pondering whether she should indeed meet with him again, before shrugging it off once more — continuing her journey towards the door, her idle hand poised, balled into a fist, allowing her to knock daintily.





Yaksha
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Sat Jun 10, 2017 6:36 pm
It took but one knock for the door to open, on a man with the exact sort of sharp, angular features that Rukia would've expected from their first meeting. He had what looked like a french beret on his head, and held a cigarette in long, slender fingers that looked like they could probably find their way into her skull and past her eardrums if he had a chance to slip them into her ear canals. His expression, at a glance, was blank, almost hideously apathetic, as if he had never met her before. He was a hollow after all, and it wasn't that unthinkable that such a shattered creature could've forgotten even their rather eventful meeting.

But, after perhaps four seconds, he exhaled slowly through his nostrils, the smoke coiling out in ever so small concentric rings as his nose flared, and his lips slowly creaked up into a bloodless, wan smirk. He leaned forward, clearly intent to kiss either one of her cheeks. When he spoke, his voice was as thickly French as it was possible to be, so hideously and almost offensively ethnic that it could only have been a parody.

"Hallo. I see you brought the wine. I hope it isn't some subpar swill. These Americans...oh, they know nothing of good wine. I may as well be swilling vinegar."

He kicked the door open with his foot, gesturing for her to enter. As he did, his face seemed to flesh out, and seemed to return once more to the roguish fellow she had spoken to only a couple of weeks ago. He favored her with a winning smile, and his eyes began to scan across her body, as if he were a lion, well-fed and fat, satisfying himself with the knowledge he could have his pick of passing gazelle. His expression was quietly confident, his brows waggling just a bit, as he gestured her inside.

"I must confess, I'm no strawberry. But in time, you may find that you'll get quite used to your cheri~."
taisuki
taisuki
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Sun Jun 11, 2017 8:00 pm






The Royal Kuchiki's facial expression soured, as she cringed at both his fake accent, and his statement. She felt the urge to roll her twinkling violet hues burning at the back of her eyeballs, almost as if her brain were telling her, "He's being fucking stupid just to annoy me."

Rukia brushed past him bruskly, feeling him oogle her shamelessly, as if she were a piece of meat, and she wasn't having it. She turned curtly on her heel, pivoting as to face him — her lips contorting into a feral snarl, cracking her refinement momentarily.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She snapped at the Hollow, her gaze darkening as she glowered in his direction. Following this, Rukia turned back around, and stomped her way into the scullery — where she deposited the bottle of wine she'd clung to for icy solace onto the kitchen table with a loud thud.






Yaksha
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Mon Aug 28, 2017 10:25 pm

Yaksha, The Anthropophagus





"Why the hostility, Rukia? You came here. You knew exactly what you were signing up for. You don't actually think you can try to take the moral high road at this point, do you? You're in bed with the enemy. Metaphorically for now, but let's just give that one time. I'll grow on you."

He bowed ever so slightly, kicking the door shut behind him, and then walking over to the table, removing the cork from it with two slender, hideously slender fingers...fingers that were surprisingly stronger than their appearance seems. There was a quiet confidence to ever move he made, that same sense of arrogant certainty. It felt almost as if there was a dance going on, and Yaksha was already playing the opening strains, simply waiting for his opponent to make their move.

"I got you a present, Rukia. I know you're rather fond of rabbits, but I had a feeling guinea pigs, or just about any other manner of cute rodent, would catch your attention. I contemplated a cat, and I finally decided on...cats. Do you like cats, Rukia? Or are they not cute enough for you?"

He twirled on a foot, backpedaling without ever looking away from Rukia. His brows waggled, his lips twirling upwards into a smile of absolute delight, unabashed joy, as he shuffled away, even moonwalking in the process. His movements, filled with that quiet, queer grace that only a creature truly in touch with its own instincts could manage, invested with some manner of inhuman, almost atavistic precision, were clearly and entirely designed to frustrate or antagonize, as he reached a nearby door, opening it without ever looking behind. The entire motion had one of routine, as if he's rehearsed it countless times before she'd arrived.

He extracted two pieces of cloth, that looked like nothing so much as terrycloth bathrobes, and began to shake them in a way that almost made the cats on them seem to move, as if they were alive.

"Do you think you're more a lion, or a cougar, Rukia? I mean, Strawberry -is- not even half your age..."

Once more, that delighted, deep-throat chuckle, the one that seemed to say this entire scenario was entertaining to him in a way only he'd get, and that such knowledge only entertained him even more...



Coding Altered From: [The Frost]
taisuki
taisuki
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Tue Aug 29, 2017 10:05 pm






Rukia's snarl did not waver, however, her starry, violet flecked orbs darkened, as if eclipsed by something rather unladylike. As it fell upon the terry-cloth garments grasped by the Hollow, her scowl intensified, especially at the mention of Ichigo.

He's just trying to goad you. He's just trying to goad you. You're better than this, Rukia. She chanted within the vault that was her mind. Why would she make the mistake of lashing out at him again? Had he anticipated that far in advance? Perhaps, but she didn't care to find out.

"Cats will suffice, I suppose. What is this... thing?" She said, though all traces of politeness, were now lost upon her voice, replaced by cold, sterile monotone. The centuries, almost millenia spent in her beloved Nii-sama's tutelage were beginning crack in the Hollow's presence — for it was as if Yaksha was able to strip away her proper etiquette, like those in Hanging Dog; and that unnerved her.






Yaksha
Yaksha
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Tue Aug 29, 2017 10:20 pm

Yaksha, The Anthropophagus




"Humans call them Snuggies. They're a bit retro now, but quite servicable. It gives you the sensation very much similar to being draped in several dozen bunny rabbits, as you go about your life. I being a rather tactile person, I find it one of the most comforting and pleasant experiences I've had in my entire lifespan. I thought you might enjoy it at least as much. I could get us a pizza, or something equally greasy and nutritively negligent. The sort of food that makes you feel guilty just for smelling it."

He began to stretch again, seemingly heedless of her hostility, or perhaps even reveling in it. He approached her, draping the coat over his arm, and bowing his head in a respectful manner, his lip still curling up into a self-satisfied, almost certain smirk. He dropped it onto the ground, taking a few steps away, and then turning towards the doorway. He straightened, folding his hands behind himself...or rather one hand, and one stump. It had healed rather nicely, leaving behind the faint pinkish new flesh one expected to see years after a major wound, rather than a week.

"Rukia. You came here for a reason. However fun these little trysts are, we both are professionals. I would ask that you don't take these little attempts to goad you too seriously. It's...a compulsion, pure and simple. Like a child that wants to play with a toy because someone else has been seen having fun with it. It comes, and it goes. Sometimes, I just find the words slipping between my lips before I even realize it."

There was something else there now, something...ironclad and precise. The sort of person that would keep on quietly and calmly persisting in asking a question for hours if it was necessary to get a real answer. He didn't speak again or even move for nearly a full minute, as he stared into a corner of the room, face bathed in the faint fluorescent light of a television, one just out of Rukia's line of view. There was nothing there but a horrible, nauseatingly cold detachment, as he breathed out from his nostrils.

And then the smile came back, in inches and degrees, like something being dragged up from the depths of the ocean. Something ever so slightly tainted, but not damaged beyond repair. He blinked once, twice, and began to run his fingers over the faint scar tissue of his missing hand. There was a sense of ritual there, as if something about the knob of bone and flesh comforted him...or perhaps more reasonably, anchored him.

"Is it perhaps about your sister? You didn't die with attachments, as a hollow does. But I think it's fair to say that you can't live without attachments anymore. Do you think, Rukia, if you had been in this situation in your previous life...you could've transitioned without trouble? Or are you finding it somewhat difficult to practice what you preach, just this one?"



Coding Altered From: [The Frost]
taisuki
taisuki
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Wed Aug 30, 2017 10:46 pm





"How gentlemanly of you, Yaksha." Rukia retorted, her snarl still deeply etched upon her slight features. This look only blackened further at the mention of her late sister, Hisana.

The Royal Kuchiki nearly spat with distaste — bile rising hotly within the throat of her gigai. Must he always bring this up?

"As of late, I've had one hell of a time reining myself in," She virtually hissed at him, her paper thin eyelids narrowing her eyes into slits as she spoke, before continuing, "If the circumstances were flipped, and Hisana perished in the World of The Living, it would still weigh heavily on me — so much so that I probably would have become a Hollow." She finished, her tone finite, clipped.

Rukia was nearly staring daggers into the back of his head at this point.





Yaksha
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Wed Aug 30, 2017 11:55 pm

Yaksha, The Anthropophagus





"It's merely a theory, Rukia. One possibility amongst many. You needn't get angry at me for it. It's about as fruitless an endeavor as trying to stab the ocean. You came here, for some reason or another. Perhaps you think I have something you want, or perhaps you think you have something I want. Perhaps you think that one or the other can take away something the other doesn't want. The possibilities are effectively endless. If you'd like to put forth a different one, I won't contest it."

He walked into the living room, obscured by the wall for several long moments. There were faint, unobtrustive sounds from the other side; sounds that very much brought to mind someone disrobing and putting on new clothing. A few of them, moments later, were hideously organic, intimate and unsettling to imagine a corresponding physical stimulus to. After it had ended, a hand reached out from around the corner, gesturing for Rukia to come around the corner. Sitting on the couch, next to Yaksha, was a doll that appeared to be made almost entirely of snow. It had no expression, no face, but turned towards Rukia, following her movements as if it were alive.

"Only should you find yourself willing. If there's anything you wish you could've said, a conversation you've been dreading having, allow me to accommodate. Humans like to look into a mirror as they rehearse their lines, and refine their arguments. I may be able to allow for something roughly equivalent. Or you could posit your own theory as to this little rendezvouses, and leave me on the defensive."



Coding Altered From: [The Frost]
taisuki
taisuki
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Sun Sep 03, 2017 1:52 am





"Unfortunately, I have no such qualms," she uttered; the light seeming to fade from her magnificent, violet gaze, rendering them devoid of emotion. Her ferocity was lost upon him. The noblewoman's previous facial expression now replaced with a somber, almost forlorn one — her peachy lips pressed into a thin, tight line.

She didn't dare meet his eyes with her own. She already had an idea of what was to come, so she found a chair across from the sofa he occupied, and sat; one knee crossed over the other, her palms neatly folded in her lap.

It's easy for her to forget that she wasn't born a noble — and she's constantly reminded of it. It was safe to say that the person Rukia had become in this moment was a complete stranger to the one contained and hidden, untouched, within the darkest corner of her heart; the one who walked through the door, so quick to judge the Hollow who invited her into his home.






Yaksha
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Sun Sep 03, 2017 11:50 am

Yaksha, The Anthropophagus





"Indeed. You are a self-made woman, Rukia. Let no one call that into question. Your achievements to date speak for themselves."

There was something different about Yaksha's tone now, something slow and almost sing-song. He seemed to have slipped into a new expression entirely, his hands resting in his lap, his body nearly motionless as he watched her, his eyes closing only every few minutes to blink. And yet there was a sense of obdurate stillness there, a core of...steel beneath it all. As if to say he was going to sit there, asking these same questions however many times it took to get a real answer.

"You came here, at first, to find out about my intentions. I was more than slightly unbecoming at the time, and if I recall correctly you stormed out saying I was frustrating. And in a week's time, I get a note saying you'd like to meet again. Has there been a change, perhaps? Are you about to tell me there are half a dozen shinigami closing in on my location, prepared to slaughter me? Is this the moment when you start throwing around your weight, before I become a regular presence in your life?"

He leaned forward ever so slightly, expression still blank, lit from within by an almost hungry curiosity. There was something about his gaze, about the silence and stillness he seemed to exude...it was almost compelling, pressing against the breast and forcing the words to come forth. He watched her in the seat without movement, without expression, for a full fifteen seconds, before finally sucking at his lower teeth, breaking the silence with an almost contemplative noise.

"Who -are- the regular presences in your life, Rukia? The Kuchikis notwithstanding. How often do you find time to visit Strawberry? Do you still maintain a pleasant relationship with any of his friends? What about Renji?"



Coding Altered From: [The Frost]
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