Happenstance Upon The Desert Sands - Esperanza

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The vast desert of Hueco Mundo stretched forth for miles in all directions. One may find themselves in the middle of this sandy landscape and think that it is completely devoid of life. One would only be partially correct. Other than the desert hollows, the ones that need only breathe in the reishi-rich air to nourish themselves, a lone figure of a man has also made the desert his home. He is an Arrancar crowned with jet-black hair, seen wherever the bony protrusions which are the remnants of his hollow mask do not keep them from view. The Arrancar saw it fit to repose himself upon a branch of one of the quartz structures, the ones resembling barren trees that dot the infinite desert, with one of his feet swinging back and forth below him in a leisurely manner.

Jon Tarletonn Elcoote was tasked by the Black Sorrow’s leader, the fellow calling himself Ulquiorra Cifer, to patrol the borders of their territory. Though he thought the task far beneath an Arrancar of his skill, Jon knew better than to argue. Cifer was a terrifyingly powerful Arrancar, one that Jon would prefer not to provoke. Still, that doesn’t mean he would do everything the man says to the letter.

As one would imagine, patrolling the borders of a huge plot of desert land which is devoid of any real threats was quite dull. It took Jon the first three or four times of patrol duties in the dust-filled monstrosity that is Hueco Mundo to realize this. After the fourth time of scouring his boots and undergarments free of sand, Jon decided to simply stay out of Cifer’s sights during his patrol duties, playing the role of dutiful subordinate with utmost quality. Of course, to make sure that Cifer doesn’t actually realize his lazy habits, there are days where Jon actually does patrol the desert for hours at a time, returning to Cifer with a most truthful report. Of course, those days are the days where the scouring of clothing occurs. Jon decided that today was not one of those days.

Jon couldn’t help but smile a bit. At least for now, his skin was saved from the irritation that the coarse sand brings when it manages to crawl itself inside one’s undergarments. The day seemed to be similar to the others anyway; bereft of any real threats or, to be more precise, bereft of any real threats to the Black Sorrow Army. Jon moved his hands towards the back of his head, making himself comfortable upon the barren branch. The hour was still young, and there are many more hours to come before he is required to return for a report. Jon began to whistle a tune as he rested. The desert was quiet. What harm was there to liven it up a bit?

[Esperanza Delarosa]

The vast void of a desert was described by some as "beautiful", but Esperanza saw none of that. Her own beauty out shone even the eternal moon overhead, and the stretches of sand were boring. It was all they had to work with though, so she made the best of it. There were plenty of insignificant hollows to dazzle and crush with her staggering power and her “master” had plenty of orders for her to tend to. Most of those orders were patrols, simple grunt work that offended her sensibilities but he had enough power behind him that she didn't dare refuse him; on occasion he would tantalize her with something more...substantial.

Over the past few days he had done just that, having her track the locations of the rest of the other two Reyes and their forces with the caveat that she not reveal her own allegiance nor his intentions. It was certainly more interesting than shaking the sand out of her shawl after a day of doing absolutely nothing fruitful. No, tonight she would shake sand out of her shawl knowing she had been doing something, though it was little comfort in the long run since she'd be back to doing menial things soon enough. She was worth so much more...

Worth more than aching feet and sand in her shoes, and worth more than the impulsive lowlife she worked for. She would bring down her own brand of wrath on him soon enough, and take the place that was hers. He wouldn't even see it coming, she thought vindictively as she slunk across the sand with a heady wind starting to whip at her back. As she squinted against the sand that began to swirl, she pulled her shawl to her face with a grimace.

She could sense an arancar nearby—she smothered her own reiatsu before she drew near, and by degrees she was able to make out details of the black haired man who reclined against a tree. Closing in, she sat down on a fallen trunk near him and leaned down to loosen her shoes. ”The winds are getting worse and worse—and nowhere to go to escape them! It's awful, isn't it?” She wasn't going to lay all her cards out at once, and as she cleared the sand from her shoes she glanced back to look at him in more detail. He seemed...soldierly, in a way, with an odd zanpakuto. Who was he working for?

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Jon’s eyes suddenly snapped open, revealing gray irises that betrayed his feeling of surprise. He just sensed a great amount of spiritual pressure emanating from the distance. At first, Jon believed it to be Cifer’s, as powerful as it was. He relaxed slightly soon as he realized that though the pressure was indeed strong, it was not the Black Sorrow’s leader. What’s more, the spiritual pressure abruptly disappeared as fast as it came, as if it was actively hidden, perhaps to avoid detection. It definitely wouldn’t have been Cifer, as Jon knew the man would never have bothered concealing his presence; especially if Cifer simply aimed to reprimand Jon for his laziness.

No, the spiritual pressure would have been from a different, unknown source. Since Jon managed to sense the being that emanated it, it was very likely that the being was close by, close enough to sense him in return, or even see him. Concealing one’s reiatsu in Jon’s presence only meant one of two things: the being thought it unable to face Jon head-on, hence running away. Or the being sought to attack Jon from the shadows by concealing itself. Either way, the black-haired Arrancar didn’t see it fit to bother investigating. It was too much work to try and pursue the intruder if the case were the former and he deemed it too much work to try and find the attacker when he could simply wait for it to strike, should the case be the latter. Oddly enough, the answer was neither of the two he had predicted.

As he continued to repose himself upon the barren branch, Jon heard footfalls on the sand, growing louder as they made their way towards him. The footfalls were not what one would expect from someone that was aiming to attack with stealth. They made too much noise if it were from someone trying to hide. They were regular footfalls; light and delicate relative to the brusque ones Jon has been so used to hearing back at the base. He elected not to take action, mostly due to curiosity, unless of course the being thought it necessary to attack him. Despite attempting to remain calm and cool, however, Jon instinctively tensed as he heard it… her speak.

”The winds are getting worse and worse—and nowhere to go to escape them! It's awful, isn't it?”

Had Jon been speaking on the same level as the woman, it would have been very apparent that he would tense up, his body suddenly becoming rigid. It would have been an amusingly unfit reaction to see from an Arrancar of his caliber. But as luck would have it, Jon was resting upon a tree; whatever part of his body that had shown any signs of tension would have largely been concealed. Now that the initial, potentially awkward event was over, Jon relaxed and began to return pleasantries with the stranger.

“Oh indeed.” Jon answered. “The winds on this part of the desert are appallingly brutal, even for Hueco Mundo. And the sands are exceptionally coarse... like ground glass. It gets everywhere, too.”

Jon then moved to sit up straight along the edges of the barren branch he laid upon, facing the woman for the first time. She was an Arrancar, it was plain to see, as evidenced by the remnants of her hollow mask that seemed to resemble earrings. Plainer to see still was the captivatingly immense aura of beauty she emanated, along with the enchantingly curvaceous body she possessed; one that seemed to move with utter grace even with the most mundane of movements. Such aspects from any woman would easily enthrall the hardiest of men, even Jon. Especially Jon.

Fortunately for him, Jon’s earthly desires are often not as strong as his desire to sate his curiosity. Why would an Arrancar, a powerful one at that, be found trekking alone through the vast and unforgiving deserts of Hueco Mundo? Surely not just to strike up a conversation with him. Jon knew he had strikingly good looks, of course, but surely it was not enough to attract such a lovely woman from far away and have her take it upon herself to see him. Or was it? Perhaps it was high time Jon discovered her intentions. Discreetly, of course.

“But I wonder…” Jon began, seemingly picking up where he left off. “What kind of monster, pray tell, would send a lovely young woman such as yourself all the way out here on her own? I certainly would not see myself doing such an unforgivable act, m’lady…”

The question was intended to see whether the woman was working for someone; more specifically, one of the other Reyes. Jon gave one of his best smiles in an attempt to keep her from believing the question to be nothing more than out of mere curiosity; a smile that could melt the hearts of numerous young maidens at first glance, yet filled with so much malice and contempt, that it could curdle dairy.

[Esperanza Delarosa]

It ocurred to her that she may have acted too late in concealing her reiatsu; he seemed powerful enough to have sensed her at a distance. It didn't matter. She could play it off as a certain sort of self-preserving meekness. He didn't know her or her pride and while deference was a rare trait among arrancar it was certainly not uneard of. A slim eyebrow raised as he replied, his speech tinged with an accent she had never heard before. "True true…shaking sand from the clothes gets so old. But I suppose I do enjoy it here, if only a little… It is one of the few places in these wastes where a girl can get some respite from all the hollows. Theyre such a bother, like gnats... Im sure you understand. I wonder, are you seeking refuge as well?" It wasn't a total lie. She hated dealing with Hueco Mundo's hollows; most were so weak as to be nothing but an annoyance and the high winds did tend to drive them away. For now she hid the malice she felt and hid it well under a veil of naiivete. If he wanted to waltz with her wit then she would happily oblige, while her looks were her proudest feautre her acting and wits certainly passed muster as well.

He turned to look at her and she could almost see his eyes wander over her features, in response she gave a lock of her hair a coy twist before moving it it out of her face (though in the wind her effort would prove to be in vain). She watched his roughened features as he watched her in turn with such poorly concealed contempt in those stormy eyes that she almost pitied his poor acting skills. He was testing her, she realized, and she tilted her head inquisitively as she sized him up. A question like that could only be meant to sniff out her allegiance though she would give him points for the effort he made to remain discreet. She could feign a lack of allegiance if she played her cards right, especially since Grimmjow wasn't the kind to mark his followers (something she would never have allowed in any case). It was good to pretend every once in a while though she had to admit she always felt out of her element when trying to play to the arrogance of other arrancar. "I must admit I am very much by myself. It gets so lonely at the top...doesn't it?" In her own roundabout way she was turning his effort back on him. If he was working for another of the Reyes then he was most certainly not at the top, not quite, and maybe he would see fit to correct her.

"We are all monsters anyway," She added with a wistful sigh. If he did ferret out her lies (she had to admit they were blatant, even for her, but were well-told) she wouldn't have much of a choice but to come clean or flee. Since she was under orders she would likely end up taking the latter option. He wouldn't dare attack a lady when she hadn't made to attack him first, she surmised from his manners.

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“Oh dear no, m’lady.” Jon said, answering her inquiry as to whether he was also seeking refuge from the lesser hollows of the vast desert. He never really had such problems from them. All Jon had to do was broadcast his spiritual pressure in all directions and the rest takes care of itself. No hollow would be stupid enough to antagonize someone like him, at least not ones so weak. “I was simply reposing myself upon this branch on my favorite patch of desert. Such annoyances never bother me much. They are far too below my notice.”

Upon closer inspection, Jon understood that the Arrancar before him was playing coy. Her slightest movements seemed to exacerbate her aesthetic features, whether deliberately or otherwise, it was hard to tell. This one knew how her body worked and how to maximize their effects. Jon understood. She was a predator, much like him. But in this little game they played, who was the prey? Jon couldn’t help but go along with it, despite the potential danger it might pose upon him. The night would be far too dull otherwise.

"I must admit I am very much by myself. It gets so lonely at the top...doesn't it?"

Ah yes, she indeed knew how to play this game. For a normal person, the statement was innocent enough. Truly, it may actually have been innocent. It was hard to tell if the woman was acting or not. Fortunately, Jon wasn’t the type to trust others easily. To the Arrancar, every statement, every action directed at him always had an ulterior motive. How else could he have survived for so long? To him, the question was a probing one. She was trying to seek answers from him this time. Well two can play at this game.

“Indeed…?” Jon began. “Well when it comes to one’s self, one is always at the top, yes? By that philosophy, one is always lonesome. That is perhaps why I am so grateful for your presence at the moment, m’lady.”

Jon knew how to play coy as well. He was manipulative. He understood how to play with words well enough. Sometimes, however, such control of semantics wasn’t enough to get what he wanted. Of course, there were always other ways to get information.

“But oh, where are my manners?” Jon suddenly said, tapping his forehead lightly with his fingers, as if disciplining himself for what he has forgotten. He then slid off the branch unto the same level as the other Arrancar, his rifle-shaped Zanpakutō hanging across his back. The movement was not graceful, at least not as graceful as when he still had his wings as a Vasto Lorde. He managed to maintain balance on his landing, however, before facing the beautiful Arrancar. At this level, her features seemed more pronounced. Had his hair been a bit shorter or the bony protrusions of his former hollow mask were just a tad smaller, it would have been very apparent to see that his ears were currently as red as beets. Regardless, Jon managed to do a flourish and bow.

“Jon Tarletonn Elcoote.” He declared. “Arrancar, gentleman, part-time rouge and…” Jon then offered his hand in a non-threatening way towards the other Arrancar’s own. He sought to give the back of her hand a small kiss.

“…at your service.” He added with a smile, never taking his gaze off the woman’s face.