He’s not exactly sure why this particular tension of distress woke him up, but he’s up; not that he likes it.
Parting from Ichigo is a breeze, especially if it is under the cover of reuniting with a safer part of the same soul. He’ll hang back for a minute, half blind eyes attempting to size up whatever the other is trying to do and, of course, failing. He doesn’t like not knowing what was going on, so he prods closer, his toes stiff so as not to flex and creak; it was a side effect of the thickness of his skin. Fucking damn his blindness sometimes, for anything that didn’t have a significant Spiritual Pressure just looked pretty dull and blurry to him; he can’t make out clearly what the other was looking at. “Tensa—”
“What the fuck are ya doin’?"
He wasn’t planning on keeping the thing, not forever. He had been doing nothing but going for a simple walk, perusing his surroundings when a strained few chirps and sudden rustling drew his attention away from idly noting how green the leaves on the trees looked today.
The fallen, chirping thing in question was — to absolutely nobody’s surprise — a fallen, chirping bird. Still young, with its eyes still closed; featherless, yes, but still cute in his eyes. He watched it for a time in silence, trying to make note of any nearby activity to see if he could locate its parents…
It was only after he had scooped the little critter delicately up into his hands and hugged it to his chest to try and keep it warm that he became aware of the hollow’s presence. He straightened up, turning to glance over his shoulder and giving an irritated “hmph” at the question.
“Help me find a nest.”
soft, aeolian tones; a whisper,
almost, sighed as well. a
question of visceral quality.
she isn’t sure if anyone heard.
Was he supposed to have heard? No, perhaps not— yet he was not exactly concealing himself, but he was also used to being so unseen that if it was just a girl talking to herself, he would not have been surprised.
Humans could not normally see spirits.
If she could not hear, then so be it, but her musings would be responded to in stoic tones:
“— whatever is necessary is unimportant, yes,
if the result is what you desire.”
I choose the hand because HANDS yeah it’s my fav part ( ≧Д≦)/
Thanks for requesting! =3=
… looks at them.
Looks back up.
Looks back at them…
He managed to one-handedly make a batch of chocolate cornets.
He’s proud as hell.
Except now he has a whole bunch of chocolate cornets.
artist // commission; please do not use without permission
having an off day; should be on to finish up drafts later tonight hopefully. I’ll try to do owed starters then, too, so like for a starter if you wanna get added to the list.
me when I wake up
Perhaps because he was a liar, a cheat. A filthy blade of deception and chaos, of power great enough to put all of Seireitei on alert. He was even easily replaceable, anyone could take his spot in life and it wouldn’t matter, they’d do better than he would. He used to be great, now he was just sad and weak; a pathetic excuse for what once was, why should he be wanted?
Why have anyone promise to be by him,
why promise anything to him!?
Oh, the list could go on, every insecurity and inner thought could be left to run free but— Tensa was still here, for now. He couldn’t let that go to waste, couldn’t waste the others time with petty thoughts of his worth.
He honestly had to shake himself out of that just to bring himself back down to reality, so as to hear the others suggestion.
A walk would help, right?
Fresh air… clean mind…
With a timid nod he was letting himself linger for a moment longer before finally pushing back, just enough so as to be able to fix his robe. It was simply slipped on to cover his arms, he didn’t have a want to get the sash.
He’d be fine with just this.
If anyone could take his spot in life, then he wouldn’t be here — it was that simple. He would never have been able to fight the hollows back off and somehow return to life, he would never have been able to get as close to Tensa as he’d allowed him.
Damaged, perhaps; broken, maybe. But incredible — he was absolutely incredible.
Yes — he loved him. With all his flaws, he was perfect regardless; not so much that he couldn’t see the flaws, no, but he embraced them where Muramasa would perhaps never be able to. He’d have to work on vocalizing it, work on finding a way to disprove what Muramasa thought of himself, even if just for a handful of minutes.
The spirit was pushing himself up soon after the brunet fixed up his robe, getting to his feet only to extend a hand to the other to help him up. A quick brush off of his own robe and he was shuffling out into the kitchen, scooping up the discarded sash and offering it out to him.
“Just in case?”
Almost timidly, pale fingers entwined with lavender, giving him a few careful tugs toward the door.
"It’s a nice day out. It will help, I promise.”
— he hoped.