Ulquiorra stood in front of the Captain-Commander of the West City Outer Guard, more affectionately known as simply the Guard, looking his absolute sharpest. As a member of the Outer Guard he patrolled the wild, fanciful forests for the creatures that the city-dwellers had built their walls against, and he only ever had a bed or shower when he was on one of his infrequent summons inside the Walls; this being said, when he arrived in the city a scant few hours before he had been- at least for him- rather dirty. But he had made use of the utilities put before him, and now his pallid skin was scrubbed clean. He had brushed his ebony-black hair u
Grimmjow groaned. Damn Aizen and his stupid orders- and this was definitely the worst. What sort of phsyco orderedhis subordinates to pick a potion, any potion? Szayel, of course, looked ecstatic as he pulled out five beakers and set them on the wooden table. They bubbled, sickly, and Grimmjow gulped. Oh, that looked so bad.
"Well," the crazy genius said, "feel free to pick one at your leisure. Oh, but don't take too long. You aren't the only one that has to choose." Grimmjow glared at him. God, that little prick! "I would suggest that you stop looking t me and look to my potions"- the way he said it he might as well have been saying 'babies
Ulquiorra sat behind the counter of his small pet store, looking through a catalog of animal toys. Now that his shop was becoming established he had more customers, and most of them weren't looking for new pets but for products for the pets they already had. The turtle in the tank sitting to his right stuck its head out of the water. The bell above the door jingled and he looked up to assess his new customer.
It was a gruff-looking teenager, well-built for his apparent age wearing baggy blue jeans and a black hoodie. What was interesting about him, however, wasn't his clothes but his hair. It was blue and clearly untamed. The teen looked aro
