[Log] Grimmjow Jaggerjack, Ulquiorra Schiffer (Body Arc)
Title: To Kill a Rat (Body Arc)
Characters: Grimmjow (gogodgene), Ulquiorra (day_eight)
Timeline: April 15, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ulquiorra gives Grimmjow a task to do. Grimmjow gives Ulquiorra a headache.
"But, Mr. Schiffer, I'll try harder. I'll work harder. I'll do better, I promise!" Ryan Degroot, the newest architect at Escorial, was not having a good day. His youthful face was brimming with emotion and his thin lips were quivering freely. Fresh tears began to form in his pleading eyes as he stepped towards Ulquiorra's desk. "Please, just give me another chance," he whimpered, wringing his hands.
The head architect blinked once and frowned. Ryan's high-pitched voice was resonating through his office, shattering the stillness of the room. Ulquiorra's office was his sanctuary. It was quiet, peaceful - like a welcoming expanse of... nothing. He enjoyed the nothingness; it was very condusive to his state of mind. Most of his time there was spent in complete silence, pouring over blueprints and paperwork. Any disturbance meant less time spent working, and less time spent working meant... Well, he just didn't appreciate it. He cleared his throat, leveling his gaze on the simpering man. "There's no need to beg. Nothing you say will change my mind."
Ryan sputtered and moved even closer, his jerky movements conveying his state of panic. "But you have to give me another chance, you have to! I'll work extra hours. I'll... I'll...."
Ulquiorra cut him off with a slight wave of his hand. "There are no second chances here, Mr. Degroot," he replied, disapproval written into his voice. He had expected the man to go down with some dignity - not to whine and cry like a little brat. "Do you think that Escorial came to be so successful by giving out second chances or taking unneeded risks?" He shook his head, crushing all of Ryan's hopes with that one, simple gesture. "No. You had your chance. Please leave."
Mr. Degroot opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it when Ulquiorra gave him an icy glare. The ex-employee slumped his shoulders and practically darted out of the room, whimpering with every step.
The door slammed, leaving Ulquiorra alone with his silence once again. He glanced at the clock and rubbed the back of his neck. Too bad that precious silence wouldn't last for very long...
He was not looking forward to this.
It was a long standing agreement that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were never meant to get along over anything ever. Jaggerjack wasn't one to go around and automatically hate people he had just met; no. There was just something about Schiffer that rubbed him three ways wrong. So, it was obvious that the blue-haired marksman would be a general asshole around the guy 24/7.
And that worked both ways.
Not that Ulquiorra was about to call him any sort of colorful names that Grimmjow was used to. He'd be a degenerate bastard in his own smart, classy way, and that made Grimm become even more pissed off.
Which was why when the brunet bastard called him in for a meeting, he knew he was going to be in an altogether grumpy mood for the rest of the day. Ulquiorra being over him on the chain of command really dug underneath his skin, but Grimmjow wasn't about to kiss Aizen's ass to gain any more power.
The ferocious sharpshooter raised an eyebrow in slight interest when a crying punk came out of Ulquiorra's office. Probably got fired or something. Grimmjow sighed, stepping into the boring office with a growling look on his face.
"Hey, Daisy, managed to be here on time. You fire another guy? 'Ur perfection thing is really gonna get ya in trouble. So, what's this big thing ya want outta me?"
The spacious office seemed to shrink as soon as Grimmjow stepped through the door. Ulquiorra stiffened, his skin prickling at the tension that instantly filled the room. To say that the two Concavos didn't exactly get along would have been a severe understatement. They were just about as opposite as two men could possibly be. Grimmjow's mere presence was enough to set Ulquiorra's nerves on edge. Fortunately, his steely resolve and practiced indifference allowed him to greet the Caporegime in a civilized manner. He even ignored that... ridiculous nickname.
"Mr. Jaggerjack," he deadpanned, folding his hands on his desk. He paused for a moment, debating whether or not to comment on Grimmjow's remark about "perfection." The blue haired man could have used a few lessons in the art of perfection. However, such a discussion would no doubt turn into an argument, and the consigliere had no wish to make the day any more unpleasant that it had already become. He cleared his throat.
"There is someone we want you take care of. The time and place has already been set up, all you need to do is shoot." Surely even Grimmjow could carry out such a simple task.
Grimmjow sighed, leaning against the bland consigliere's desk. The blue-haired Bruno didn't even bother to make sure he was facing the annoyed brunet. It wasn't like Ulquiorra was fly off the handle anyway, it would just dig under the fool's skin just enough for Grimmjow to receive the satisfaction.
Well, he hoped so, anyway. Schiffer was a hard guy to figure out, especially with that stone still face of his. It was like the guy didn't know anything about displaying emotions. Would it kill the stoic freak to actually smile or looked pissed off?
"Well, I kinda figured that I wasn't here for the fuckin' atmosphere, so thanks for the update. The big question is, are ya gonna tell me anythin' about this? Or are ya just gonna force me ta sit in the damn dark like some ninny? All ya told me over the phone is that it's a big job."
Ulquiorra's temples were beginning to throb. Only Grimmjow could give him a headache within one minute of walking through the door. He let out a breath between his teeth and shifted his weight. Any outward sign of his frustration could, and probably would, be seen as a sign of weakness. So, he kept up his blank stare and continued on in an even flatter tone. "Larry Bynes has been leaking information about the Fitzgerald murder. He needs to be stopped."
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it out. "The time and place are here," he explained, nodding towards the paper. "A couple of Nnoitra's girls will be accompanying him."
Nnoitra's girls... Gross. Grimmjow didn't have any love for his fellow Concavos (the only people he remotely treated with respect were his own men), but Nnoitra was high up on his list of people that needed to just burn. The black-haired, one-eyed pimp was scum that Jaggerjack would've loved to scrub right off the face of the planet. The goon's girls were no different; dirty Jezebels that Grimmjow wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.
The blue-haired sharpshooter snatched the paper up, looking over the info on the sheet. He'd have to scope out the place before hand, make sure he knew the terrain and what weapon would best be suited to this job.
Preferably anything that kept a low profile.
"A rat, huh? You guys need ta keep a better lid on this shit. Seems there's always someone that knows somethin'. Should I give the girls a fond farewell, too? One of 'em might try gettin' smart and we don't need no bottom-rung bims gettin' smart on us."
But really, Jaggerjack just wanted an excuse to get rid of the bitches.
A flicker of irritation, easily mistaken for a brief twitch of his eye, flashed across Ulquiorra's face. He didn't much appreciate Grimmjow's accusation. The fact that the Caporegime blamed this leak of information on him (or, Heaven forbid, Mr. Aizen) would have been infuriating, had it not been laughable. Situations like this couldn't possibly be his fault. There was no way that he could monitor the actions of each and every snitch, after all. Bynes was scum, not worth a second thought. It was only by unfortunate chance that he had acquired the incriminating information that had now become his death warrant.
But, no matter. Grimmjow, the obnoxious brute, couldn't be expected to understand such things. Ulquiorra's already frozen demeanor dropped a few more degrees as he cleared his throat again. "Yes, it would be best to dispose of the girls," he replied. He wasn't sure if it was even possible for one of them to get "smart," given their obvious lack of intelligence, but it was always a good idea to tie up any and all loose ends.
"Nnoitra's aware that the girls will not be returning to him," he continued. "It'd be wise to take care of the informant and the prostitutes in different places, since we do not want any evidence at Byne's crime scene to suggest our involvement."
Well, good to know he wouldn't have to put up with the annoying whores. Killing Byne's might be fun, but putting up with Nnoitra's girls was not his vision of a good time.
Grimmjow stood with a sigh, stuffing the paper with the info in his pocket. The blue-haired buttonman knew this was going to be easy-breezy. Jaggerjack looked at Ulquiorra with the equivalence of boredom. Aizen's pale pet wasn't any fun; just emotionless words and blank looks. How fucking boring.
"Good ta know, Daisy. I'll report back when the job's done. For now, I'm gonna blow, this place is a fuckin' snore-fest."
The hitman offered now wave or word of goodbye, just turned and walked out.
The worst part of his day finally over, Ulquiorra sat back and returned Grimmjow's silent farewell. He knew that the meeting could have went a lot worse, and thought it better to leave it at that, rather than dwell on the irritating headache that he was left with. Besides, he already felt a bit better now that his "snore-fest" of an office was rid of the trigger-happy fiend.
The only thing left to do was hope that Grimmjow could do the job properly. And then deal with seeing him again once it was done.
Ulquiorra could barely contain his excitement.
Characters: Grimmjow (gogodgene), Ulquiorra (day_eight)
Timeline: April 15, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ulquiorra gives Grimmjow a task to do. Grimmjow gives Ulquiorra a headache.
"But, Mr. Schiffer, I'll try harder. I'll work harder. I'll do better, I promise!" Ryan Degroot, the newest architect at Escorial, was not having a good day. His youthful face was brimming with emotion and his thin lips were quivering freely. Fresh tears began to form in his pleading eyes as he stepped towards Ulquiorra's desk. "Please, just give me another chance," he whimpered, wringing his hands.
The head architect blinked once and frowned. Ryan's high-pitched voice was resonating through his office, shattering the stillness of the room. Ulquiorra's office was his sanctuary. It was quiet, peaceful - like a welcoming expanse of... nothing. He enjoyed the nothingness; it was very condusive to his state of mind. Most of his time there was spent in complete silence, pouring over blueprints and paperwork. Any disturbance meant less time spent working, and less time spent working meant... Well, he just didn't appreciate it. He cleared his throat, leveling his gaze on the simpering man. "There's no need to beg. Nothing you say will change my mind."
Ryan sputtered and moved even closer, his jerky movements conveying his state of panic. "But you have to give me another chance, you have to! I'll work extra hours. I'll... I'll...."
Ulquiorra cut him off with a slight wave of his hand. "There are no second chances here, Mr. Degroot," he replied, disapproval written into his voice. He had expected the man to go down with some dignity - not to whine and cry like a little brat. "Do you think that Escorial came to be so successful by giving out second chances or taking unneeded risks?" He shook his head, crushing all of Ryan's hopes with that one, simple gesture. "No. You had your chance. Please leave."
Mr. Degroot opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it when Ulquiorra gave him an icy glare. The ex-employee slumped his shoulders and practically darted out of the room, whimpering with every step.
The door slammed, leaving Ulquiorra alone with his silence once again. He glanced at the clock and rubbed the back of his neck. Too bad that precious silence wouldn't last for very long...
He was not looking forward to this.
It was a long standing agreement that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were never meant to get along over anything ever. Jaggerjack wasn't one to go around and automatically hate people he had just met; no. There was just something about Schiffer that rubbed him three ways wrong. So, it was obvious that the blue-haired marksman would be a general asshole around the guy 24/7.
And that worked both ways.
Not that Ulquiorra was about to call him any sort of colorful names that Grimmjow was used to. He'd be a degenerate bastard in his own smart, classy way, and that made Grimm become even more pissed off.
Which was why when the brunet bastard called him in for a meeting, he knew he was going to be in an altogether grumpy mood for the rest of the day. Ulquiorra being over him on the chain of command really dug underneath his skin, but Grimmjow wasn't about to kiss Aizen's ass to gain any more power.
The ferocious sharpshooter raised an eyebrow in slight interest when a crying punk came out of Ulquiorra's office. Probably got fired or something. Grimmjow sighed, stepping into the boring office with a growling look on his face.
"Hey, Daisy, managed to be here on time. You fire another guy? 'Ur perfection thing is really gonna get ya in trouble. So, what's this big thing ya want outta me?"
The spacious office seemed to shrink as soon as Grimmjow stepped through the door. Ulquiorra stiffened, his skin prickling at the tension that instantly filled the room. To say that the two Concavos didn't exactly get along would have been a severe understatement. They were just about as opposite as two men could possibly be. Grimmjow's mere presence was enough to set Ulquiorra's nerves on edge. Fortunately, his steely resolve and practiced indifference allowed him to greet the Caporegime in a civilized manner. He even ignored that... ridiculous nickname.
"Mr. Jaggerjack," he deadpanned, folding his hands on his desk. He paused for a moment, debating whether or not to comment on Grimmjow's remark about "perfection." The blue haired man could have used a few lessons in the art of perfection. However, such a discussion would no doubt turn into an argument, and the consigliere had no wish to make the day any more unpleasant that it had already become. He cleared his throat.
"There is someone we want you take care of. The time and place has already been set up, all you need to do is shoot." Surely even Grimmjow could carry out such a simple task.
Grimmjow sighed, leaning against the bland consigliere's desk. The blue-haired Bruno didn't even bother to make sure he was facing the annoyed brunet. It wasn't like Ulquiorra was fly off the handle anyway, it would just dig under the fool's skin just enough for Grimmjow to receive the satisfaction.
Well, he hoped so, anyway. Schiffer was a hard guy to figure out, especially with that stone still face of his. It was like the guy didn't know anything about displaying emotions. Would it kill the stoic freak to actually smile or looked pissed off?
"Well, I kinda figured that I wasn't here for the fuckin' atmosphere, so thanks for the update. The big question is, are ya gonna tell me anythin' about this? Or are ya just gonna force me ta sit in the damn dark like some ninny? All ya told me over the phone is that it's a big job."
Ulquiorra's temples were beginning to throb. Only Grimmjow could give him a headache within one minute of walking through the door. He let out a breath between his teeth and shifted his weight. Any outward sign of his frustration could, and probably would, be seen as a sign of weakness. So, he kept up his blank stare and continued on in an even flatter tone. "Larry Bynes has been leaking information about the Fitzgerald murder. He needs to be stopped."
He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it out. "The time and place are here," he explained, nodding towards the paper. "A couple of Nnoitra's girls will be accompanying him."
Nnoitra's girls... Gross. Grimmjow didn't have any love for his fellow Concavos (the only people he remotely treated with respect were his own men), but Nnoitra was high up on his list of people that needed to just burn. The black-haired, one-eyed pimp was scum that Jaggerjack would've loved to scrub right off the face of the planet. The goon's girls were no different; dirty Jezebels that Grimmjow wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.
The blue-haired sharpshooter snatched the paper up, looking over the info on the sheet. He'd have to scope out the place before hand, make sure he knew the terrain and what weapon would best be suited to this job.
Preferably anything that kept a low profile.
"A rat, huh? You guys need ta keep a better lid on this shit. Seems there's always someone that knows somethin'. Should I give the girls a fond farewell, too? One of 'em might try gettin' smart and we don't need no bottom-rung bims gettin' smart on us."
But really, Jaggerjack just wanted an excuse to get rid of the bitches.
A flicker of irritation, easily mistaken for a brief twitch of his eye, flashed across Ulquiorra's face. He didn't much appreciate Grimmjow's accusation. The fact that the Caporegime blamed this leak of information on him (or, Heaven forbid, Mr. Aizen) would have been infuriating, had it not been laughable. Situations like this couldn't possibly be his fault. There was no way that he could monitor the actions of each and every snitch, after all. Bynes was scum, not worth a second thought. It was only by unfortunate chance that he had acquired the incriminating information that had now become his death warrant.
But, no matter. Grimmjow, the obnoxious brute, couldn't be expected to understand such things. Ulquiorra's already frozen demeanor dropped a few more degrees as he cleared his throat again. "Yes, it would be best to dispose of the girls," he replied. He wasn't sure if it was even possible for one of them to get "smart," given their obvious lack of intelligence, but it was always a good idea to tie up any and all loose ends.
"Nnoitra's aware that the girls will not be returning to him," he continued. "It'd be wise to take care of the informant and the prostitutes in different places, since we do not want any evidence at Byne's crime scene to suggest our involvement."
Well, good to know he wouldn't have to put up with the annoying whores. Killing Byne's might be fun, but putting up with Nnoitra's girls was not his vision of a good time.
Grimmjow stood with a sigh, stuffing the paper with the info in his pocket. The blue-haired buttonman knew this was going to be easy-breezy. Jaggerjack looked at Ulquiorra with the equivalence of boredom. Aizen's pale pet wasn't any fun; just emotionless words and blank looks. How fucking boring.
"Good ta know, Daisy. I'll report back when the job's done. For now, I'm gonna blow, this place is a fuckin' snore-fest."
The hitman offered now wave or word of goodbye, just turned and walked out.
The worst part of his day finally over, Ulquiorra sat back and returned Grimmjow's silent farewell. He knew that the meeting could have went a lot worse, and thought it better to leave it at that, rather than dwell on the irritating headache that he was left with. Besides, he already felt a bit better now that his "snore-fest" of an office was rid of the trigger-happy fiend.
The only thing left to do was hope that Grimmjow could do the job properly. And then deal with seeing him again once it was done.
Ulquiorra could barely contain his excitement.