[Log] 15 - Seika Alyon
Date: 09-01-08
Characters: Alyon, Ulquiorra
Summary: Call it... scouting.
The white sands of the desert seem to span as far as the eye can see. Here, no wind stirs and yet somehow the sands seem to always shift it's dunes. High above the skies appear to simply black out, like a sheet of darkness drapes over the land entirely. Light seems to become pale and dim here and steals the feeling of time's passage to those who walk along the treacherous dunes. It is here that the rumors speak of a rise, a hill that reflects the one who resides atop of it. Privaron Sexta, Seika Alyon. Not a great deal is known, even now of her, but what is known is that her greatest strength is not in powerful attacks, but the fact that her defense is strong as any before her.
Off in the distance, there is a unique rise above the rest. Difficult to make out but one of the only landmarks to actually guide those whom enter. A large hill that bears a glade of white trees and a dark, traditional Japanese styled building. The closer one gets to this place, they can feel a slight breeze across the skin and with it the floral scent of apple blossoms.
It is a job not usually given to him. He is usually expected to observe, to wait, to watch. It's his patience that easily rivals most of those his fellow Espada, and an asset Aizen has come to value in his subordinate that he's set this particular task of him. The Quinta Espada would demolish all in his path, and it was no secret his method of handling vasto lordes in times past. The white sands had long since covered the old dwellings, broken down the stonework buildings to dust and dunes.
This particular place is almost surprising to find, especially for those that are more used to the undecorated landscape that the white deserts of Hueco Mundo have to offer, save for the sparse twigs of quartz. There's no doubt about it, this is the place- he can sense the reiatsu of whom he seeks, close now.
Silence marks his arrival, the sand betraying no footprints as to his coming, and not a grain seems to stir even as he walks towards the gentle slope of the hill. The breeze that comes up pulls at the long tails of his coat, white flipping to black and back again, a banner trailing in his wake. Green eyes remain unblinking, fixed upon the building set at the top, seeking for what senses have long confirmed.
The rise gives way to the small building, a single roomed shrine. Sand giving way to the shock of blood red petals, and the open door of the shrine easily reveals the figure knelt there. Unlike her brethren, she does not wear the traditional uniform, and never has. The kimono, a beautiful white silk that fades into the blood red to match the blossoms scattered across the sand outside. The obi tied in a complex, traditional knot of the Geisha. Her head bowed and her hands, covered by the long sleeves folded in her lap.
Her reiatsu feels uniquely different than the other Arrancar as she herself is so different. It could almost be described as soothing, as if Ulquiorra were safer around this Arrancar than the others. Which is quite the truth. There's a suspended silence in the air that seems to hold for a long moment before broken by the surprisingly soothing and softly feminine voice.
"It has been quite some time since anyone has climbed this rise. Please, enter...I've tea if it is your wish." The covered hand gestures across from her where the kneeling mat is placed as well as the cups she sets in a smooth, practised gesture. Never once does her head rise, or her eyes open to see Ulquiorra.
Tranquil, that is the word he would use to describe it. This woman has taken this space and made it her own.
Ulquiorra steps towards the doorway, keeping his own presence carefully managed, much more so than he would walking the corridors of Las Noches, but not nearly as tight as he would keep his reiatsu during his visitations to the realm of the living. At least it appears that he has manners enough not to stalk in and shatter the peace of the female arrancar's dwelling.
The customs of a geisha are lost to him, either because he has never in his past life heard of or had to deal with such, or simply chooses not to care. Silence is his greeting, his hands remaining in his pockets- his usual pose. Those that know him would feel more uneasy were those hands not hidden away. He enters as bidden, eyes scanning over the rest of the room before settling upon the woman as she sets out the tea. Protocol. Tea is a tradition often partaken of in Las Noches as Aizen seems to enjoy it, or perhaps simply the notion of such former Hollows indulging in a delicate pasttime.
The half-helmetted Espada quietly kneels on the mat, slipping his hands casually from his hakama pockets, the black nails providing the most contrast against the pale skin and pristine whites. He waits patiently for the tea to be served and then picks up one of the cups carefully.
Poured with an effortless grace as she lifts her head some and looks to the Arrancar that has come. Her eyes such a pale shade of blue they seem almost white before black lips offer a ghost of a smile. She lifts the lea and takes a sip before placing it back to the small table, "I somehow doubt you are one to simply wander the White Desert in exploration. I am Seika Alyon, Privaron." She bows forward slightly in greeting.
She doesn't seem to outwardly wear the shards of her mask, but braided into the incredible length of sable hair are bone like vertebae with a single red line going through each. Her Zanpakutou lain across her lap and appearing simply enough. A sheathed katana with a slender hilt. Most notable of it is the complete lack of a tsuba guard. Watching him as she waits not only for his name, but his reason for coming to such a secluded place. She's curious what would bring one of the Espada to her door.
Names are not something often asked of him, nor a thing he freely gives. It seems an unspoken rule on the battlefield, and while this is still something of the sort, he has come for more of a purpose than to just have tea. A sip has been taken, but whether he savors the taste or not is something to be left in mystery; his expression does not change. The tea cup is set down again, and a nod is offered at the introduction he is given.
"My name is Ulquiorra. You're well aware of where I come from, otherwise you would not have added such a title to your name." He rests a hand upon each thigh, letting the silence creep in for all of several seconds. "...you are invited to have an audience at the white fortress.... Aizen-sama has heard of your skill."
"And what you are, but it would be rude of me to assume so...loudly." She smiles and nods her head once, "I have heard of Aizen-sama, heard that he has gathered the Arrancar as well as the Espada beneath him to stand against the Shinigami." Taking another sip of the tea, not so secluded that she's not aware of the goings on in the White Desert. "It would be a grave offense for me to turn down such invitation...though I must confess to my own curiosity of what he could want with me. Your reiatsu is proof enough you've more power than I. Not to mention the fact that the Priveron have been quite effectively replaced."
Her suspicion of this Espada's coming confirmed. She finishes her tea and sets the cup aside. "I would be honored to hold audience with Aizen-sama at Las Noches. If my fans are of any use to not only him but the other Arrancar, I offer them freely, as I always have." She bows her head and smiles softly. "You may inform him that I shall make haste to the white fortress, as I would not wish to keep him waiting on my account." Looking up to him again for a moment before she lifts the Zanpakutou and slides it through her obi so it will stay. Rising up in a single gesture, long black hair nearly touching the ground before she bows to him formally. "I wonder if we will share tea again in Las Noches?" There'd be a distinct air in the small room of her having dismissed him, but done in such a way that only a fool would take true offense.
He speaks from observation, and observation is more than just visual, sometimes. Yet what he sees is just as important. If it does not appear in his eyes, it does not exist. "There are not many things that pass his notice," he replies as his fingers curl around the edge of the tea cup again, lifting it to his black-rimmed lips. He sips quietly, eyes closing only briefly, the piercing green looking back at her soon enough. Alyon has remained here alone but undisturbed. That in itself speaks much for her ability, even if she will not say outrightly. It's just as well that Ulquiorra has been sent here- his brethren would look upon the female arrancar's skill with disdain. Most of them embraced power and justification for their status in how many they could crush beneath their fists.
The empty tea cup is set down lightly once again. "...that decision would lie ultimately with Aizen-sama," the raven-haired Espada says in regards to her offer to serve the ex-captain of the Gotei 13. "But I shall inform him." He bows his head in turn before standing fluidly- at least he seems capable of adapting to custom. This is her place. It is a small respect for what she has been able to establish. His hands seek their pocket burrows, and he turns back towards the door, stopping at the threshold to glance back at her. He offers no further words, only watching her a moment more before he turns and begins to make his way down the slope to eventually be lost amongst the white sands and a blur of Sonido.
Characters: Alyon, Ulquiorra
Summary: Call it... scouting.
The white sands of the desert seem to span as far as the eye can see. Here, no wind stirs and yet somehow the sands seem to always shift it's dunes. High above the skies appear to simply black out, like a sheet of darkness drapes over the land entirely. Light seems to become pale and dim here and steals the feeling of time's passage to those who walk along the treacherous dunes. It is here that the rumors speak of a rise, a hill that reflects the one who resides atop of it. Privaron Sexta, Seika Alyon. Not a great deal is known, even now of her, but what is known is that her greatest strength is not in powerful attacks, but the fact that her defense is strong as any before her.
Off in the distance, there is a unique rise above the rest. Difficult to make out but one of the only landmarks to actually guide those whom enter. A large hill that bears a glade of white trees and a dark, traditional Japanese styled building. The closer one gets to this place, they can feel a slight breeze across the skin and with it the floral scent of apple blossoms.
It is a job not usually given to him. He is usually expected to observe, to wait, to watch. It's his patience that easily rivals most of those his fellow Espada, and an asset Aizen has come to value in his subordinate that he's set this particular task of him. The Quinta Espada would demolish all in his path, and it was no secret his method of handling vasto lordes in times past. The white sands had long since covered the old dwellings, broken down the stonework buildings to dust and dunes.
This particular place is almost surprising to find, especially for those that are more used to the undecorated landscape that the white deserts of Hueco Mundo have to offer, save for the sparse twigs of quartz. There's no doubt about it, this is the place- he can sense the reiatsu of whom he seeks, close now.
Silence marks his arrival, the sand betraying no footprints as to his coming, and not a grain seems to stir even as he walks towards the gentle slope of the hill. The breeze that comes up pulls at the long tails of his coat, white flipping to black and back again, a banner trailing in his wake. Green eyes remain unblinking, fixed upon the building set at the top, seeking for what senses have long confirmed.
The rise gives way to the small building, a single roomed shrine. Sand giving way to the shock of blood red petals, and the open door of the shrine easily reveals the figure knelt there. Unlike her brethren, she does not wear the traditional uniform, and never has. The kimono, a beautiful white silk that fades into the blood red to match the blossoms scattered across the sand outside. The obi tied in a complex, traditional knot of the Geisha. Her head bowed and her hands, covered by the long sleeves folded in her lap.
Her reiatsu feels uniquely different than the other Arrancar as she herself is so different. It could almost be described as soothing, as if Ulquiorra were safer around this Arrancar than the others. Which is quite the truth. There's a suspended silence in the air that seems to hold for a long moment before broken by the surprisingly soothing and softly feminine voice.
"It has been quite some time since anyone has climbed this rise. Please, enter...I've tea if it is your wish." The covered hand gestures across from her where the kneeling mat is placed as well as the cups she sets in a smooth, practised gesture. Never once does her head rise, or her eyes open to see Ulquiorra.
Tranquil, that is the word he would use to describe it. This woman has taken this space and made it her own.
Ulquiorra steps towards the doorway, keeping his own presence carefully managed, much more so than he would walking the corridors of Las Noches, but not nearly as tight as he would keep his reiatsu during his visitations to the realm of the living. At least it appears that he has manners enough not to stalk in and shatter the peace of the female arrancar's dwelling.
The customs of a geisha are lost to him, either because he has never in his past life heard of or had to deal with such, or simply chooses not to care. Silence is his greeting, his hands remaining in his pockets- his usual pose. Those that know him would feel more uneasy were those hands not hidden away. He enters as bidden, eyes scanning over the rest of the room before settling upon the woman as she sets out the tea. Protocol. Tea is a tradition often partaken of in Las Noches as Aizen seems to enjoy it, or perhaps simply the notion of such former Hollows indulging in a delicate pasttime.
The half-helmetted Espada quietly kneels on the mat, slipping his hands casually from his hakama pockets, the black nails providing the most contrast against the pale skin and pristine whites. He waits patiently for the tea to be served and then picks up one of the cups carefully.
Poured with an effortless grace as she lifts her head some and looks to the Arrancar that has come. Her eyes such a pale shade of blue they seem almost white before black lips offer a ghost of a smile. She lifts the lea and takes a sip before placing it back to the small table, "I somehow doubt you are one to simply wander the White Desert in exploration. I am Seika Alyon, Privaron." She bows forward slightly in greeting.
She doesn't seem to outwardly wear the shards of her mask, but braided into the incredible length of sable hair are bone like vertebae with a single red line going through each. Her Zanpakutou lain across her lap and appearing simply enough. A sheathed katana with a slender hilt. Most notable of it is the complete lack of a tsuba guard. Watching him as she waits not only for his name, but his reason for coming to such a secluded place. She's curious what would bring one of the Espada to her door.
Names are not something often asked of him, nor a thing he freely gives. It seems an unspoken rule on the battlefield, and while this is still something of the sort, he has come for more of a purpose than to just have tea. A sip has been taken, but whether he savors the taste or not is something to be left in mystery; his expression does not change. The tea cup is set down again, and a nod is offered at the introduction he is given.
"My name is Ulquiorra. You're well aware of where I come from, otherwise you would not have added such a title to your name." He rests a hand upon each thigh, letting the silence creep in for all of several seconds. "...you are invited to have an audience at the white fortress.... Aizen-sama has heard of your skill."
"And what you are, but it would be rude of me to assume so...loudly." She smiles and nods her head once, "I have heard of Aizen-sama, heard that he has gathered the Arrancar as well as the Espada beneath him to stand against the Shinigami." Taking another sip of the tea, not so secluded that she's not aware of the goings on in the White Desert. "It would be a grave offense for me to turn down such invitation...though I must confess to my own curiosity of what he could want with me. Your reiatsu is proof enough you've more power than I. Not to mention the fact that the Priveron have been quite effectively replaced."
Her suspicion of this Espada's coming confirmed. She finishes her tea and sets the cup aside. "I would be honored to hold audience with Aizen-sama at Las Noches. If my fans are of any use to not only him but the other Arrancar, I offer them freely, as I always have." She bows her head and smiles softly. "You may inform him that I shall make haste to the white fortress, as I would not wish to keep him waiting on my account." Looking up to him again for a moment before she lifts the Zanpakutou and slides it through her obi so it will stay. Rising up in a single gesture, long black hair nearly touching the ground before she bows to him formally. "I wonder if we will share tea again in Las Noches?" There'd be a distinct air in the small room of her having dismissed him, but done in such a way that only a fool would take true offense.
He speaks from observation, and observation is more than just visual, sometimes. Yet what he sees is just as important. If it does not appear in his eyes, it does not exist. "There are not many things that pass his notice," he replies as his fingers curl around the edge of the tea cup again, lifting it to his black-rimmed lips. He sips quietly, eyes closing only briefly, the piercing green looking back at her soon enough. Alyon has remained here alone but undisturbed. That in itself speaks much for her ability, even if she will not say outrightly. It's just as well that Ulquiorra has been sent here- his brethren would look upon the female arrancar's skill with disdain. Most of them embraced power and justification for their status in how many they could crush beneath their fists.
The empty tea cup is set down lightly once again. "...that decision would lie ultimately with Aizen-sama," the raven-haired Espada says in regards to her offer to serve the ex-captain of the Gotei 13. "But I shall inform him." He bows his head in turn before standing fluidly- at least he seems capable of adapting to custom. This is her place. It is a small respect for what she has been able to establish. His hands seek their pocket burrows, and he turns back towards the door, stopping at the threshold to glance back at her. He offers no further words, only watching her a moment more before he turns and begins to make his way down the slope to eventually be lost amongst the white sands and a blur of Sonido.