In The Eye Of Envy [Veralia/Alvah]

Hueco Mundo's landscape was painted in grey earth and black skies. Devoid of color, this land could be seen as dead to many who come across it. Venturing further out into the depths of the realm brought a stillness, where Veralia found herself wandering these sandy terrains without a care in the world.

The quietness of the world brought solace, introspection, and a place to decompress from the colors of the living realm. Yet her thoughts were disturbed when her senses picked up the power of another in the distance. Uncertain of whether or not this person was a friend or a foe, a gentle emerald aura burned around her body as she raised her right eyebrow at the sight of the fellow hollow before her.

"Forgive the unexpected visit. It's rare to encounter another soul in such forsaken reaches."

Her tone was laced with a cautious intrigue as the woman's blood eyes lingered on Alvah as she stood twenty feet away from the male.

Though, as she started to stand on the tips of her toes, something began to change as the woman put her hands behind her back. A hint of amusement danced across her features, tempering the tension. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, took in the sight of the horned figure before her.

"Seems I'm not the sole horned wanderer of Hueco Mundo."

A playful smirk graced her lips, acknowledging their shared, uncommon trait amidst the desolation.

Another one bites the dust. Murdering another of his kind is never pretty, and his satisfaction varies. However, his journey usually leads to unexpected groupings, gatherings, and run ins. Whether he runs into an individual worth conversing with is all but another folly of fate. Though, feeling anything for a dying soul is but an excuse to validate horrible deeds. The only thing he feels right now is but disappointment that another story must end.

However, as one book closes, another opens, and someone has graced his stage with their presence. Friend or foe: only time will tell, but his yellow orbs turned from the rotting corpse to a woman. She walked with fair gusto and seemed entirely sure of where she is. These sands are vast, but being lost never meant being lost when exploring this wasteland. As long as you understood your place, anywhere is acceptable.

"Rare are we that traverse alone, yet once in a stoic moon do we find ourselves indulged by friendly faces... and hostile relations."

With nothing but a smile, he sat, legs crossed. He gave her no direction, allowing her to choose her next action. Whether she wished to talk or not, he is prepared, his Zanpakuto's edge buried in flowing sands next to him as a wily wind blew between the two.

Taking a parting glance at the corpse by the male's feet caused Veralia to gently tilt her head to the right. Life and death were fragile things in Hueco Mundo, so the sight in her eyes was nothing more than a soft reminder of that very fact.

"You can file me under a friendly face then."

A low chuckle escaped the lips of Veralia as she continued to assess the situation. Becoming more curious about what led to the poor bastard dying, she squatted to her knees, smirked, and had a small wisp of emerald file gently poke the lifeless form before her.

"What made you wanna kill this sorry pile of rotting flesh?"

Veralia's gaze lifted to meet Alvah's, a blend of intrigue and nonchalance reflected in her blood-red eyes.

"Call it fate... No... Call it the bad qualities of a writer," He mused, placing his right hand under his chin, knuckles used as a surface.

"I simply wish to share commodities, but it is hard for Hollow-kind to see eye to eye at times. De-escalation proved worthless, so escalation led to decimation."

He spared the dying body no second thought as his interest left it and became attached to the woman who has graced him. There is no point in worrying about a finished story in the now when there is another ripe tale to partake. Though, blatant, his eyes traced her form, forging his thoughts on her beauty, shape, and irregularities.

Veralia's gaze remained unwaveringly fixed on Alvah, a blend of curiosity and intensity flickering in her eyes as she absorbed the cascade of his words. Sometimes fate just dealt you a horrible hand and wrote a miserable end. In a world filled with conflict and sin, it's only natural that not everyone gets a happy ending. So, she nodded, not just in acknowledgment but as a silent dance to the rhythm of his discourse.

With a soft, thoughtful hum, she broke the silence that followed his last word, her voice carrying a newfound depth influenced by his discourse.

"I see your point. Sometimes we are just poorly written characters stuck in a loop of fuck-ups and tragic endings."

Veralia's face slipped into a sardonic smile as she rose to her feet; casting one last indifferent glance at the corpse lying cold and still at her side. Her eyes shifted back to Alvah with an amused look of curiosity and skepticism mingling in her gaze.

With a tone sharp, yet laced with genuine intrigue, she spoke aloud back to him.

"But what commodities are you even trying to peddle in a shithole like this? Color me curious."

"It is a shithole, yes, a basic description I assure. However, even a shithole can produce miracles, anomalies, wonders."

His eyes flowed to hers, his expression indifferent for a second as he pondered his explanation. As something came to him, he pointed his finger at her and then back at himself. Then he moved it towards the corpse.

"You and I have already proven ourselves outside the norm while he was nothing more than a basic example of our kind. Beings like us are far in-between, and thus I am left pondering why and how. Are we simply better? Has life shaped us this way? If so, what kind of life did we live? Who kept us from being simple mindless beasts? One question leads to another and another until I am left starving with no meat to sustain myself."

With a sigh, he shook his head, dreading his very existence at that moment for creating him a being with boundless curiosity.

Veralia's gaze remained unwaveringly fixed on Alvah. As Alvah proclaimed with unwavering conviction that even the most forsaken places could yield miracles, a spark of amusement flickered in Veralia's eyes. Her usually penetrating and fierce stare softened slightly, betraying her intrigue and the unexpected delight she found in his perspective as she smirked.

"Oh? Looking for your diamond in the rough. How commendable."

As those words flowed out of Veralia's mouth, they were drenched in a tinge of skepticism and curiosity, her smirk deepening. Following along with his flow, her stare moved to the corpse as Alvah started to comment on the differences between them and the rest of their kind. After hearing enough of his sentiments, she walked over to the taller arrancar, looked up at him, and stood on the tips of her toes once more.

"That's just how the game is played, isn't it? Luck, chance, the crapshoot of genetics, and whatever mess of ego and personality you're dealt with—all that shit stirs together to decide if you're gonna be something worth noting or just another speck in the dust."

Biting her lip a bit, Veralia's eyes glazed over; lost in thought. There was a brief moment of hesitation before her gaze locked back on Alvah's with a sense of delight behind her eyes.

"It's probably why envy's such a bitch, you know? Some folks just hit the jackpot right out of the gate, while others get the short end of the stick. Dwelling on that can drive you mad."

With a low low chuckle escaping her lips, she continued.

"Even if you had all your questions answered, I doubt there would be satisfaction. Some things are better left unknown, eh? Ignorance is bliss."

"Ignorance is bliss, but we are beings condemned to our sin. I am not allowed to embrace this bliss you speak of."

He looked down at her, taking note of her mood as it seemed to shift and stir during her spiel. Her words make it seem as if she is unhappy with the idea that some find their existence easier than others, but if she is plagued with immense envy, such feelings make sense. One could say his curiosity also invokes a great envy within him. Someone who knows it all would, no doubt, be someone he would wish to bother. If they were to refuse his need to learn, he knows he'd feel annoyed.

"Do you believe it possible to usurp our own shortcomings?" He'd ask, questioning whether she is satisfied with her current existence or if she strives for more.

"Of course it's possible. But let's be real here, it's not always feasible."

As she folded her arms and her voice became rather blunt, Veralia's scarlet gaze held on Alvah as she did not avoid addressing the stark realities underpinning their existence from her point of view.

"You can die before that change happens, become imprisoned, or be subject to a life you detest even despite trying to fight fate."

With an emerald flame held in her palm, she looked away from the man for a moment before letting it drop to the ground; creating a small fire pit in its wake. As the blaze melted through the sands of the earth, it eventually ceased as her attention shifted to the corpse before them.

"There is no assurance that you will overcome those shortcomings just because you fight. Sometimes a life with less hardship and sacrifice is more beneficial than one with it as at least you might die with happier memories."

As her statements rang out in the night, she used her power to form a pair of hands forged from her fire that was large enough to carry an entire person. With precision and a surprising gentleness, they lifted the lifeless body of the man Alvah had slain, carefully placing him into a grave she had prepared with her fiery touch. The ethereal hands worked methodically, creating a final resting place for the deceased, a solemn act of respect amidst their grim conversation.

When the morbid task was done, the fiery hands dissolved into the cold night air. Veralia's attention then returned to the Arrancar before her, her gaze still, but still piercing.

"But, eh, maybe it's all about the ego, or just who the hell you are deep down. Me? I fight like hell, but that's only 'cause I'm too damn stubborn and pissed off at the world to throw in the towel. Not everyone's got that kind of poison running through their veins."

Taking a soft sigh, the woman took a moment to bask in the silence before her head tilted to the right ever so slightly. Eyebrow raising in intrigue, she decided to poke Alvah's brain a bit since she spent a lot of time talking as it was.

"But I've done enough blabbing. What's your take on us getting over our shit? Are we screwed, or is there a fighting chance"

"Are there not already examples of our kind being more than what we were born to be? That enough is reason to try for many."

Her view on things is morbid and hopeful, a realistic take to the trials one must face to ever evolve. Many will try. Many will fail. For him, it is a matter of where the wind blows. He has no need to change, nor has he found a reason to. Any decision he makes is because he wants to, whether he finds it indulges his sinful nature or not. Maybe it is the fact that he looks at things from multiple angles at a time that allows him to face his burden with such carefree bravado.

"What catalyst would I need? Would you need? This desert is an infinite box. You will find nothing new here despite my claims. That is why I shall broaden my horizon. Earth will be a new field to test and play. I am hopeful I will learn much from the humanity's domain."

He did not care about how she treated the fallen Arrancar. A dead person tells no tales, especially when he left nothing for the world to remember him by. Alvah is too focused on himself to truly bow his head for the deceased. Veralia's gaze is like an arrow though, yet he smiled, revealing his excitement at exploring something more than sand.