[ private psl ]

[devores]

[What a delightful new world-- with such delightful people to boot! Zerig has been here hardly three days, and already he's enjoyed himself thoroughly. Black-clad shinigami, as they were called, throwing themselves upon him and his men, every encounter a challenge until the thrill of battle surged through his veins. Everything since their arrival here (to flames and screaming and blood, the scent of charred flesh crisp in the air) until now--? Wonderful.

Until they were pushed back, that is, hedged and caged by magical shields on all sides, forcing him and his army to dig in their heels and fortify their positions in this abandoned part of town. That first night he'd flown into a rage, slaughtering nearly all of the townsfolk trapped with them. In the cold light of day, he'd reconsidered-- and by then there were enough people left for him to keep his fair share of hostages either way. One of which had caught his eye....

With a wave of his hand, he orders his men to bring the boy over. The chains they'd brought from their own world blocks all but the most powerful from accessing their powers-- it almost feels like cheating, in a way, but they have their uses. As his men leave, Zerig licks his lips at the memory-- bright hair and defiant eyes. So much strength to him that he can practically taste it, and Zerig wants it all to himself, wants to use him, wants to keep him.

He doesn't realize his eyes are closed until the clink of chains heralds his new plaything's appearance. Straightening up in his makeshift throne, Zerig's smile stretches wide across his face.]

Hello, sweet thing. What's your name?
 

Comments

[bladeisme]

[If Zerig was delighted by these turns of events, Ichigo certainly wasn't. He'd be beside the ranks of the shinigami-of course he had! Being the person that had changed thousands of years of unflinching rules meant that they expected him there-and besides, his friends were also shinigami. He would fight to protect them-to protect everyone from these monsters.

What did they even want, anyway? Ichigo couldn't even fathom a guess.

It was well that Zerid remembered Ichigo-because he certainly wasn't about to forget. They'd faced each other on the battlefield, power flying every which way with every tremendous clash. It had only been the barrier crashing down that had stopped the fight, caging in the demons as Soul Society decided that the lives of a relatively few humans and the hero who had saved them were acceptable prices to pay for buying some time to figure out a way to defeat them for good.

In the resulting chaos, Ichigo had been knocked unconscious-and when he woke, the chains were already on him. From there, he'd silently thought about what must have happened-and while he was sure Renji and Rukia must have fought against the idea, he agreed with the action taken.

Well. almost- there weren't many people in this area, but he was sure that the ones who had been unlucky enough to be trapped were either dead or captured like he was. He would have preferred it if it had just been him, since then it would have merely been his own life in danger.

Speaking of, why had he been captured instead of outright killed? Toying with the chains (not easily breakable, of course-they'd never make it that easy) the substitute shinigami wracked his mind, trying to come up with an answer. Obviously, someone wanted him-or wanted to make an example of him. Maybe they'd try to brainwash him, get him to turn on his friends and comrades. Never, he silently thought to himself. No matter what they do to me.

And now, he'd finally find out why he was being kept alive.

Even if he'd regret it later.

His brown eyes search Zerig, his every movement and slight tensing of his muscles screaming that same defiance that the demon had noticed before. Keeping his eyebrows furrowed, his hands clench unconsciously, making the chains clink softly.]

....Ichigo.

[No family name-he's sure this guy doesn't want to hear it, anyway. He'd dismissed his guards...whatever this guy is going to do to him, it's going to be somewhat private.

Ichigo's teeth grit, and he can't stop himself from giving a sharp reply.]

And I'm not a 'sweet thing', asshole.