♫Listen While Reading♫
Fear of loss, fear of disappointment, fear of pain, fear of heights, fear of others. The list goes on, the point is, fear is inevitable and it is everywhere. There are those who see fear as a negative, pushing people from their goals, scaring them away from success, the risk associated with that terror is enough. That is the view of most. On the flip side of the coin is the rare few, fear is a motivator, the greatest of them. Much like people are pushed away from their goals, there are those spurred on towards their hopes and dreams, scared of not attaining them. Perhaps even scared of what might happen if they cannot.
Beneath the eternally moonlit sky the deserts of Hueco Mundo span far beyond any eye can see. Within these deserts there are countless lives that thrive and die off, day after day, some at the hands of Shinigami, others at the hands of their own kin. Those who survive this plague of death, those who persevere, they are the ones who bring change. One such being now walks the sands, surrounded by crystalline ivory towers.
Plate adorned feet tread with caution, the gentle crunch of sand as quiet as can be beneath these steps. The low rasp of chitin and bone against each other accompanies every step. Measured breaths faintly heard only by the one who walks this path. Crimson droplets splatter atop the white plains, dripping from dagger-clad digits of this sole arrancar. Sage eyes flick back and forth between things only he can see, ripples that run through the sands, various pulses from countless directions, some larger than others. His posture is kept low, his own presence concealed within himself, all the trademark signs of a breast tracking its prey.
With his senses open to the vast forest surrounding him, he mentally notes each and every presence, but one in particular has his attention, a signature much larger than the rest, much closer specifically. It draws closer and closer still, that pulse growing larger by the second. His body trembles, adrenaline coursing through his entire being. The silence is broken. A massive upheaval of rock and sand fills the space behind the Arrancar, and with it, the presence that he was focused on previously. The Arrancar shifts and without hesitation he has sprung into action as a gargantuan Hollow erupts from below. A body resembling a mashup between a worm and a mole, a body made for burrowing and tunneling below. Where eyes should be, nothing can be seen, not missing, they just never existed. What is present however, is a large gash that crosses that area along the Hollow’s form.
“PLEASE STOP! I didn’t mean to do that! You scared me when you came at me! I lashed out, it won’t happen again!”
An Arrancar begging for his life in the face of a Hollow, this is Arrastrado. He is no longer slinking around quietly as he once was, now he is in a full sprint, each step carrying him as far and as fast as he can away from the beast as it tears through the ground below. The trembles of his body were not caused by a thrill of the hunt, but by fear. Arrastrado’s mind races in tandem with his body, just how did this Hollow spot him? He was quiet, barely moving, he’d hidden himself as he always does. It wasn’t sound, it wasn’t a form of spiritual sensory, but what? It takes him a few seconds, but then it clicks.
“Okay okay okay! I-It can feel where I’m walking! That makes sense!”
With his thoughts gathered, and having put some distance between himself and his hunter, Arrastrado vanishes with a distorted burst of sound, he finds himself higher up, much higher up as he clings for dear life to one of the quartz trees. His eyes readjust, taking in the vantage point from above. The Hollow that hunted him now thrashes violently below, a sense of confusion washing over it as it loses track of it's prey completely. A cacophonous bellow fills the surrounding area, the Hollow enraged now, but soon enough it vanishes beneath the sands once more, clambering and slithering away once more. A sense of relief washes over the coward as he remains up above, his attention diverted now as the creature’s signature diminishes quickly.
“Alrightyyy... So that was a bust, I suppose onto the next attempt. I’m sure somebody will eventually hear me out, maybe.”
A long sigh escapes, as his presence is once more collected within himself, concealing himself and calming himself as best as he can in the following moments. Arrastrado’s gaze is cast upon the surroundings and beyond once more, seeking new possibilities. He takes a while, nothing of note is nearby, but further out, he finds a collection of signals. Two encroaching upon another two. One of the signatures vanishes, leaving the approaching two and the sole member of the initial couple. A vanishing signature implies one of two things for Arrastrado, either they escaped his senses, a difficult task, or they unfortunately passed.
With trepidation in his movement, Arrastrado begins leaping between the trees, headed towards the group, each time latching onto the crystal towers. With time, he begins picking up the pace, eventually reaching a pace that has him appearing as a blur leaping between the natural pillars. On his approach, more possibilities enter his range, approaching the gathering. His arrival came in tandem with the newcomer. The difference is their approach. Whilst this more brazen Arrancar presented himself and spoke directly to the two Shinigami, Arrastrado remained latched to one of the trees. His form is mostly behind the trunk near the apex. Once more he conceals his presence as much as possible both spiritually and physically. From his vantage point, Arrastrado could hear just about everything that wasn’t whispered. His focus on the interaction between the opposing parties distracted him from the unnatural chill initially, but it is his breath that brought attention to it, the condensation on each breath.
”No, we don’t know where Antonio is. No, we don’t know where any of his loyalists are. We’ve been living in Hueco Mundo peacefully minding our own business, but for some forsaken reason you people just can’t mind yours. Is this some sort of occupation in response to one of your Captain’s dying out here? If so, you’re aiming your ill intentions in the wrong direction.”
Antonio, Antonio, Antonio. That name doesn’t strike a chord but it is clearly well known if the man presumes the Shinigami have shown up for him. And especially so if there are loyalists. Arrastrado is someone who has avoided anything to do with the Espada and Las Noches, a group that is near antithetical to everything he desires. As such, these names mean nothing to him. What does strike a chord is the man’s desire for peace, or at least the portrayal of desiring peace.
”On second thought, don’t bother answering that. Go home, now. There is nothing out here for your kind, let us live in peace. You don’t belong here, you have Hollows scared to leave their homes, scared to roam these sands they once called their own. Ever since Esmeralda was defeated you fuckers haven’t left us alone! Centuries of walking on egg shells because Hollows live in fear of a stray Kido striking and killing them because you wanna laugh and call it target practice. I don’t know why two Lieutenants are out here, nor do I care. Go back to Soul Society and leave us alone.”
At the moment, Arrastrado has no intentions of dealing with the Shinigami for anything, be it friendly or otherwise. The demands for the Shinigami to return home enforces the desire for peace, and that alone is enough to bring a spark to the hope Arrastrado carries. As the monologue continues, bringing attention to the fear of their kind and the unnecessary killings, it almost pulls the coward from hiding, but for now he remains hidden, silently agreeing with this stranger. Hopeful that the Shinigami leave and he can speak to this reasonable fellow.
