Business, Dear Boy [OPEN]

[rlt]

The sports car cruised around the streets of Karakura Town. It was an expensive German model, as his alias of Gil Tank, CEO of the Ireland-based Golden Rule Incorporated, drove only German sports cars. It was quite pleasant, though he had to switch aliases and bodies every so often to avoid the inconvenient truth that the CEO was the arrancar Gilgamesh who, having already died and in a firm position of power in Hueco Mundo, was unlikely to die again.

It was fun to play the role of the young playboy once more. Only now could he enjoy the physical realm since the secrets of gigai technology had been stolen and copied. The poor fellows in the R&D Division had been executed, but they really shouldn't have been caught taking bribes or collaborating with Hollows. The promise of knowledge of the anatomy of an ancient natural arrancar such as himself had been more than enough. The claws of his followers had ensured their honesty.

He had recently purchased several businesses in Karakura Town, including a vineyard, as wine was a hobby of his. He passed by a small caffe, but it seemed pleasant enough. And since he was king, a king would eat wherever he pleased.

"Take me over there," commanded Gilgamesh to the driver.

[Deleted]

Grimmjow had, for the longest time, been baffled by what the humans called “parkour”. The word was French, the sport was global, and he had never gotten the deal with humans wanting to run and jump on things the way they did. That was until he actually tried parkour. These days, especially on fine, sunny ones such as this one, he would take his reiatsu-concealing Gigai (and the heavy stone figurine that was Keiji, if he felt like it) into the human world and just parkour the living daylights out of Karakura, or Kiel, or Tokyo, or whatever town he wound up in, and never even aroused the soul reapers’ suspicion. Big cities were best—they had all sorts of ledges you could jump on, and parks: he really liked parks. They were just giant pieces of grassy land that you could tear through like a bat out of hell. Parks were amazing, and each day he silently thanked Johann and that rogue Shinigami Urahara for handing the little wonder of technology that was the gigai to him so that he could explore parks. They either really trusted him, or really didn't care either way.

He had run across most of the city in under thirty minutes. He was thinking he should really start timing himself, because this was some of the best speed/stamina training he could ever have imagined--the gigai needed some extra training to get to the point where Grimmjow was happy with it. Slowing down for a moment and grinning profusely, he shifted the messenger bag slung across his shoulder and approached a large monolith of black stone that sat at the center of the park he had stopped in.

Checking himself out in the polished rock, he silently commended his outfit choice: A white shirt with the word “METALLICA” dashed across it in blue letters (with a lightning design that he really enjoyed), a pair of black jeans that were made to cling to the legs with a few chains looping from the belt loops and pockets (there were skull shaped decorations on the pockets, which he loved), and a pair of blue shoes with white on the toes—the words “ALL-STAR” were on a little logo on the side. To pull it together, he wore a black army-style hat and was keeping his stuff in a gray twill messenger bag.

Looking at himself, he had an urge to visit a place that was even better than parks: A Café. Cafés were where humans with book-shaped computers hung out and talked with each other. Most of them were full of hipsters and punk rock wannabes, and they were indescribably fun to mess with. Giving himself another once-over and deciding he looked requisitely hipster-ish, he stood for a minute, removing his hat to fan himself. It was pretty hot outside, and he had a good deal of money from doing odd jobs around town—he could spare a few yen for a cold coffee or something like that.

Grimmjow leapt over a park bench as he made a beeline to one of his favorite cafés in Karakura; he spotted a sports car heading for the same place. It wasn’t rare per se for a high-end guy to stop at these downtown cafés, but it wasn’t something that happened every day. The windows were black—Grimmjow had always wondered how humans saw out of black windows—and the car was expensive looking. It reminded him of Johann’s car—except Johann’s was a Koenigsegg, as he had continually insisted.

Grimmjow picked up the messenger bag and tapped it slyly, addressing the gikon inside: “Heeeeey, Keiji! Wanna scare the hell outta somebody?” Keiji protested vehemently—Grimmjow grinned and replied, “You got it, boss!” as he ran through the park, over the median and leapt into the road, crossing nimbly just inches from the hood of the moving car and stopping only when he reached the sidewalk on the other side.

[[OOC: I guess you could call it a long post—well, don’t allow length to intimidate. I’m like MayMay; I like making nice entrances. Your move, bucko. I just jumped in front of your car.]]

[rlt]

It was the wont of Gilgamesh to simply continue. If the mongrel was unable to dodge, then that was the mongrel's problem. It wasn't like he didn't have the money to work his way out of any legal procedings. He wasn't even the one driving the car. The driver was another of his hollows in a gigai. Reaver was his name. He didn't talk much.

"Don't stop, friend."

"Of course, my king."

A gross shift of weight nearly flipped the car over as Reaver drove on only two wheels. The jaywalker narrowly avoided a few thousand pounds of metal. He was a driver of consummate skill, though. With another shift of weight, almost like that of a motorcycle driver, the car was again driving normally. And then he parked in a manner befitting a king's carriage.

Gilgamesh opened the door and brushed back his hair. The black jacket of his suit rustled slightly in the wind.

"Reaver?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"In this day and age, it would be 'Yes, sir.'"

"Yes sir."

"Do you remember that jaywalker which you avoided?"

"Of course, sir."

"Fetch him."

"Why?"

"Do I honestly need a reason? I do have one. There was no fear in his eyes. I admire that."

"I understand."

The hollow, in the guise of a young man, perhaps twenty, with brown hair and clear blue eyes, walked away from his king. A king would not allow for his subordinates to appear shabby.

Gilgamesh settled into the small cafe and, after glancing at the menu, ordered a bottle of wine, Chianti, alongside a pair of glasses. It would only be decanted when his guest arrived. For now, he sat down and began his reading of Japanese literature. In this case, it was The Tale of Genji, known as the first novel. Hopefully, the wait would not be unduly long. Should it be, the wrath of the King would be unleashed.

[OOC]

[Deleted]

Grimmjow grinned. He had crossed about a block away from the café, and looked down the road as the car bucked up on two wheels, then back onto four, and then veered into a parking spot along the street. A suited man—hollow, Grimmjow sensed, stepped out of the car. Crazy driver, he thought, where’d he even get a human license? Grimmjow made it a point to never drive cars, only ride in them when he was in the company of a large group. Using his spot down the street as a vantage point, he watched as the hollow walked inside the café, and then another suited man—another hollow, he just knew it—stepped out of the car. Then he realized that this was the crazy driver—humans controlled cars from the front, not the back. The driver peered in both directions and started walking toward Grimmjow with a strong, purposeful gait.

Crap! Guy’s after me—bet he can’t steer like that through people, though.

”Excuse me, but I believe it would behoove you to merely halt and inquire as to what the man requires, he does not appear to intend—“

”Shut up, Keiji!” Grimmjow muttered as inconspicuously as possible to the messenger bag. Grimmjow honestly didn’t give a single hoot as to what the hollow wanted, but he was already allied with another hollow, and that was never good. Grimmjow steered through the light crowd and made an arc across the wide sidewalk, looking around and attempting to lose the hollow in the throng. It worked. He reached the front double-door with ease and pushed on the door. It didn’t move and Grimmjow swore vehemently, looking inside.

”The other door may be of better use to you.” Grimmjow grudgingly pushed on the second of the two doors, noting for what wasn’t the first time that the door on the left was the “In” door. ”Shut up, Keiji.” He muttered irately. The cool air of the café washed over him as he strode in, giving the lunch crowd and look-over and spotting the passenger in the corner with a wine bottle whose contents he couldn’t discern at the moment. Comfortable with the crowd size (there were maybe two or three empty tables and enough talking people to produce a cozy chatter), Grimmjow slunk to the counter with an air of jovial familiarity. He knew this place and its workers well, and it showed. He held himself, as he usually did, as if he absolutely owned the place.

Leaning an elbow on the counter, he grinned sharply and greeted the workers with a wave. He was really starting to like the feeling of control he got from talking to people. Mostly, They liked him on the outside, but he could see a sort of fear hiding under the courteous smiles, fear that passed as an indiscernible dark ripple across the faces; they knew he wasn’t of their world, they just couldn’t place how.

”Hey, can I get a cold coffee to that table there, huh? And, ah…” He paused, roughly running his hand over the bottom half of his face, “Some’a them biscuit things.”

“Biscotti?”

“Yeah, them.” He laughed and made his way to the empty table to wait for his order and keep his eye on the other hollow. Sitting down on the cushioned chair with a fwump and setting the messenger bag down on the cool tile, He turned up the pesquisa. He sensed both the passenger and the approaching driver, with no other spiritual beings in the area. They weren’t Espada strong, he knew that for sure. Still, looking across the café, The blonde had a certain air that Grimmjow didn’t quite like—what was it? Oh, yeah—He acted as if he owned the place. Grimmjow didn’t feel so much intimidated by this man’s imperial gaze as he felt annoyed—infuriated. The second man attempting to establish his dominance felt like a bloody gnat in his ear. Just like that ringing he was hearing now…The bell on the door rang out as the driver hollow entered the café and approached the passenger hollow. Grimmjow held up one of the printed menus in what was a certainly futile effort to direct their attention away from himself.

[rlt]

Gilgamesh idly sipped at his wine. A new person entered the place. It was the jaywalker. Reaver had done his job or something like that. It wasn't like he'd kill the crazy driver out of hand. He actually liked that servant. He was the most fun driver, and that tank smuggled into Hueco Mundo was quite the desert joyride. Fuel was always a problem, though. On the other hand, multi track drifting.

He stood up in a relaxed and arrogant manner and walked over toward his "guest," the blue haired jaywalker.

"Good afternoon," he said, offering a hand, "Would you like a drink? I have some fine wine for such a hot day, ready to be poured. I insist."

[Deleted]

Grimmjow sighed heavily as the blonde-haired hollow strode across the cafe floor, letting himself slump further into his chair. He wasn't looking forward to this, and the thought suddenly occurred to him that he should have just turned around and gone to a different cafe but no, he had to go ahead and go in this cafe. Bugger all. The hollow held a hand out to him and in what seemed to be a valiant and almost even successful attempt at a domineering and regal tone, said thus: "Good afternoon; Would you like a drink? I have some fine wine for such a hot day, ready to be poured. I insist."

”A wine an’ dine? Well, guess I don’t have a choice now, huh?” Grimmjow’s body language shifted unconsciously from an aggrieved slouch to an aloof recline (kid thought he owned the place, and that set Grimmjow on edge for caution’s sake alone); he looked the hollow over for one last time as he took hold of his bag and got up. ”Guess there’s no reason not to go drink in the middle of the day. Suppose that means we move to party to your table, doesn’t it?” He caught the eye of one of the waitresses and wordlessly signaled to her; free wine or not, he still wanted his coffee and biscotti.

His inability to recall the name of that particular waitress both made him thankful for the fact that humans communicated with so many more nonverbal cues than he was used to and reminded him that he had no idea who exactly was offering up the free alcohol. He turned away from the wait staff, locked eyes with Blondie, and grinned. ”Anyway, I dunno who the hell ya are. So, who the hell are ya?”

[mikazuki]

The door of the cafe swung open wide as a young teen walked confidently inside . Her entrance caused several people to look up from their cups and stare at her. She smiled embarrassedly at them and continued walking towards the counter, leaving the door to shut on its own. Sure, her entrance had been a bit more attention-grabbing than she would've liked. But nonetheless, she was looking forward to her daily latte and cookie that she had made a habit of since coming to the world of the living. It was so exciting! Such a difference from Hueco Mundo, as well as a difference from when she was alive. She loved hearing the faibr buzz of planes as they passed overhead, and listening in on the conversations of others. She especially loved the music they had now, quickly falling in love with bands such as Owl City, Yellowcard, and Skillet.

A few week earlier, in Hueco Mundo, she had been spying on a certain kingdom. She saw that they had stolen gigai technology, and quickly copied what they did. She was rather smart, though she didn't always seem like it. Making the gigai was so difficult, but she eventually finished it and came to the living world, happily moving from country to country when she was bored. Eventually she came to Japan, and Karakura town. She decided she like that placed best, and had stayed there for the rest past few days.

The clothes she had purchased in the shops had pleased her immensely. Her outfit that day consisted of a pair of loose blue jeans, several bracelts and multicolored necklaces, a black shirt with a bleeding red heart in the middle, and, her favorite part, a black hat with pointed animal ears on the top. Her sneakers. Squeaked on the floor as she stopped at the counter, and she leaned on it, hands in her pants pockets, shoulders relaxed. Her deep gray eyes sparkled in a friendly manner as a she said "I'd like what i got yesterday please. But, uh, I think I'll try one of those snickerdoodle things this time"

The lady counter nodded and rang up the price, and Mikazuki payed. A gleeful look lit up her eyes as she grabbed her snack and headed towards a table. She sipped her latte as she approached, but, instead of sitting down, she looked towards a man she had spyed from the corner of her eye. His striking blue hair caught her attention, and she immediately realised who he was. /Grimmjow?! That arrancar I saw battling that ginger-haired sninigami?! I thought he died...? I wonder what he's doing here?/ Surprise was showing very obviously in her eyes. She sat down. At a table close to him, hoping, preying that he would know what she was, and possibly care. She thought back to when she was watching their battle, and smiled to herself. She remembered her utter amazement at his arrogance and viscious fighting style as she watched unseen from her hiding spot. His battle was by far one of her favorites. And there he was, sitting there in the cafe, talking to some blonde guy.