InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "..."

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques (ex_grimmjow954) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,
@ 2009-05-20 07:48:00

Entry tags:

arrival, complete, day ten, grimmjow, nymphadora tonks

[Day 10] Cambiar sin consentimiento.
Who: Grimmjow, Nymphadora Tonks, OTA
When: Day 10, afternoonish
What: An arrival scene, and a bloody one at that
Where: Illusion City streets
Rating: PG, subject to change
Status: Incomplete

---

His breathing was unnecessary and ragged. His wounds stung, impossibly deep and oozing blood and yet not severe enough to actually kill him. It took a great deal to kill a ghost; it took even more to kill an Arrancar, let alone one of the Espada. Beneath him, the once-white sand of Las Noches was stained red.

At first, he didn't move.

He could make out voices off to the side. They were familiar, eager in tone. The little Hollow brat, the human girl. The shinigami. Ichigo. The one he'd marked for his own, the one he'd been fighting; his prey.

Clenching fists and teeth, Grimmjow somehow worked his limbs beneath him - somehow pushed himself to his feet. It was painfully slow as the last of the strength of the panther was already leaving him. It was excruciating to feel, the injuries that he'd sustained dulling both sight and sound. One step, two, three-- "There's no way.."

Ichigo hadn't yet turned; none of them had yet realized that he was still there, that he still hadn't given up. They were still too busy congratulating one another to pay attention to what was around them - even in the middle of a battlefield.

Four steps, five, six-- "..no way in hell.."

Grimmjow's left knee buckled and nearly gave out beneath him. He stumbled forward, all of his catlike grace completely gone now. Even Pantera had nearly reformed into the sword in his hand, his bony Hollow exoskeleton unraveling from around him like frayed twine to leave him looking much more human. Or inhuman.

It took all of his strength just to keep pushing forward. His prey was nearly within his grasp. Seven steps, eight, nine, and his legs failed him completely. The Arrancar gave a painful hiss as he lurched forward onto hands and knees, clawed fingers digging deep into the ground. For a moment, his vision blurred and the world of Hueco Mundo seemed to swim around him; he closed his eyes against the sickening whirl of white and black.

"..like I'd ever lose to someone.."

Except that when he opened his eyes, it was all suddenly horribly wrong. The ground was still blindingly white; the sky was still nondescript and pale. Only now there were clouds hanging low and thick above, and it was not sand but soft snow covering the area, which was full of architecture foreign to both Las Noches and Tokyo. Grimmjow's hands shook as his fingers dug deep into the snow - and then into cobblestone beneath it, cracking and crumbling it like no more than caked sand. His nostrils flared, his pupils contracted to no more than pinpricks. The shift had been so immediate that he had not even registered it for what it was.

His prey was nowhere to be seen or felt. Other than the faint coo of pidgins from a nearby rooftop, the place was silent. Silent but not empty. Flashes of spiritual energy flared here and there, all around him, some stronger than others, some more interesting than others. Most were just human - dismissed and ignored.

"The hell.." The last of the panther's influence left him in a rush as Grimmjow finally climbed to his feet a third time in as many minutes. He could barely keep his grip on his sword long enough to sheath it. His hand still shook. His clothes were still tattered. He was still covered in blood, likely appearing to any to be on Death's doorstep (irony of ironies), and yet he knew that his body had already begun to slowly heal. He wasn't done for, not yet. But that still didn't give him any answers.

Not in any state to explore the how, where, why, or who - or to even see if there were a way to get back through the veil between worlds - the Arrancar stumbled over to a low stone bench and nearly collapsed on it. All he needed was a few minutes' rest to recover, then he'd be fine.. A few minutes, or maybe a few hours. Or maybe a few days. Then.. then he could decide his next move. The layer of snow covering the bench might have as well been sand. He couldn't feel its chill, either way.

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tonks_please
2009-05-23 01:35 am UTC (link)

Tonks rose to her feet, nodding in satisfaction with her word. She could see some of his wounds healing up, and this pleased her. Her healing charms weren't called on very often anymore, and she was glad that, given the opportunity, she could still use them. She didn't even seem to be rusty.

"Yup, that's my name!" She spoke cheerfully, brushing off the knees of her jeans. They were cold from the snow, so she shook her wand and made little puffs of hot air come out to warm them up.

She looked at him, then shook her head, unimpressed with herself. She kept meaning to stop doing that, calling people muggles. It was a bit rude, really, and ever since she'd fallen in love with one, she found that she cared about that a lot more. "Sorry, a muggle is someone who isn't a witch or wizard, a nutter is, you know, someone crazy. Nutter."

As he sat up, she looked at him carefully to make sure he didn't fall over. "Uh, this is the Underground. Careful, you're still weak." She paused, pursed her lips, trying to figure out the best way to tell him. "It's a little confusing, actually. You've been taken from your world to live here."

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ex_grimmjow954
2009-05-23 08:06 am UTC (link)

For a moment, Grimmjow just eyed her curiously. It was clear by now that the stick - wand, whatever it was - was actually some sort of tool that she used to channel spiritual energy. It was different than any type he'd encountered. But the fact that she was capable of doing so explained why she was able to see him.

At least it was one possible reason.

"So you're a witch," he considered. He gave no indication of being offended by the term 'muggle', largely because it just sounded like it was just another way that humans classified one another. Cirucci had claimed to be a thunder witch of sorts, her specialty in electricity. But Cirucci had also been an Arrancar, her powers derived from her Hollow form. This woman here was alive, and she seemed to have multiple talents.

Curiouser and curiouser. "Is Underground this city or this world?" Grimmjow asked, "And taken by who? They sure picked a hell of a time to do it." His eyes narrowed dangerously as he recalled the end of his fight, and how he'd suddenly been deprived of it.

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tonks_please
2009-05-23 10:33 pm UTC (link)

Tonks looked at him, still smiling. It was, after all, pretty much her natural state of being. His way of speaking didn't bother her at all. Yes, he was rather terse and to the point, but so was Snape, and several other members of the Order. So she was perfectly at ease speaking to him.

"Yup. That's me!" She was completely cheerful about this, and saw no reason to hide it. After all, what was a witch in such a strange place as this? At least she was human, and not an elf or a vampire or... well, who knew what other strange things were about.

"The world is called the Underground. King Jareth, or, as some call him, Mr Sparkly King, got bored, I guess, and took us all." She bit her lower lip, once more remembering that she might soon be going home. "If you do the Labyrinth, he might send you back. Not that I'd trust anything he says, mind you, but His Royal Highness did sort of imply he would."

But that was all for later. She looked at him with a kind smile. "How about I show you your room? Or do you think you need a Healer still?"

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ex_grimmjow954
2009-05-24 08:11 am UTC (link)

Strange things, indeed. The Hollow considered his options.

The woman wasn't a bad healer and had certainly helped some of his injuries. He'd recover well enough given time, likely to be at full strength within a few days. But if this other guy she'd spoken of was so much more proficient at it, it might just be worth it to have her take him to the healer. As much as Grimmjow hated to be in anyone's debt, for any reason, he knew that he was already at a great disadvantage in this world.

If this so-called King could whisk away one of the Espada right under Aizen's nose, right in the middle of an invasion on Las Noches, who knew what else he was capable of doing?

"No," Grimmjow finally answered her. "I don't need your healer." If he couldn't get through some King on his own, then obviously he was too weak and deserved to stay here. "Where's this Jareth guy at? And the hell're you talking about - my room?"

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tonks_please
2009-05-24 08:24 pm UTC (link)

Patiently, Tonks settled her hand on her stomach, happy to just let him think about what he wanted to do. In truth, she found herself absorbed, time after time, with the baby growing inside her, so he could take all the time he wanted deciding, in her opinion.

Finally, though, he spoke, and she nodded cheerfully. "Alright, then. Follow me. We need to get your key and your journal first." She turned around, tripped over thin air, and stumbled briefly before righting herself.

Unconcerned, she set off through the snow, and glanced over her shoulder at the man following her, or at least, she assumed he was. "You can ask me anymore questions that you have while we walk... Mr Sparkly King seems to be at the center of the Labyrinth, he has a castle there. And he assigned us all rooms. Better than sleeping in the snow, right?"

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ex_grimmjow954
2009-05-26 08:10 pm UTC (link)

Grimmjow had risen to his feet and was walking a pace or two behind her. Whatever she'd managed to do had actually helped quite a bit; he'd have to keep that in mind in case he ended up sticking around in this Underground place. And if her healer friend were even more capable.. well. That was an interesting thought. The Hollow made a mental note to both keep an eye on her and to find out who this Snape was that she knew.

"Journal? Why would I want one of those?" He kept his hands in his pants pockets as he walked, his stride more than keeping up with the woman. The snow and chill in the air didn't bother him, and he made no sign of being cold in spite of his bare chest and forearms. "And how many people are here? You said this King took more than a few."

For who knew why. Maybe he was building an army of his own. If so, he wasn't very good at forcing respect in his new recruits.

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tonks_please
2009-05-27 05:57 pm UTC (link)

Tonks gave him a bit of a skeptical look, and then ruined it by smiling. "So you can talk to everyone else, of course! The journals are bloody brilliant! Trust me, you'll love them." She pointed ahead of them, in the direction they were going, and then tripped again. It was obviously a frequent thing with her.

"We go there to get your key, and the journal. Uh, don't go insane when you see the thing that gives it to you, though. It's a goblin. There's lots of them around." She was happy to keep chattering away as she walked toward the main building that she'd pointed out.

"Oh, bloody hell, I dunno. It keeps changing all the time. New people being brought every day, it seems." She scowled, displeased with this. "There's not many, though, but there is a ton of room for lots more people. I think His Royal Sparkliness is optimistic that more people will be joining us."

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ex_grimmjow954
2009-06-07 11:13 pm UTC (link)

"Hn.." Grimmjow just gave a noncommittal reply, taking in all that she said but offering little in return in the way of conversation. Part of it was because this all still sounded ludicrous, no matter how real it definitely was. Part of it was just that he was exhausted in spite of the healing that she had given him.

It was odd that the people present kept changing. This 'Royal Sparklines' seemed fickle, at the least.

The Espada eyed the lobby area as they stepped inside the building. It seemed like some sort of hotel and was spacious without being too empty. A short goblin was behind the main desk, though only the very tips of its ears could be seen at first. Grimmjow finally got a better look at it when they neared. "Is that the thing you were talking about? The goblin or whatever?"

He'd never seen anything like it before. It definitely wasn't that impressive. Except that just then it let out a shrill cackle and threw a book at Grimmjow before ducking behind cover of the desk.

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