aeterna--contaminationem-blog

[aeterna--contaminationem-blog]

#ooc #hiatus notice

[aeterna--contaminationem-blog]

"Tsundere?!" His face was practically the shade of a ripe tomato at this point. Of every nickname he'd been called or remarked on, being a 'tsundere' was new. "Don't call me that! I'm everything but a tsundere!"

“I call BS on that~!” There was no way she would actually curse, she was more ladylike than that! “You’re so emotional— that’s okay! No need to be ‘tsundere’ about it~! Actually, that describes you damn perfectly! You’re such a tsundere~”

#farfallabianca

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Awww, don't look so shy~

Rangiku-san, you touched my ass.

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*slaps that fine behind* Because you were on my dash and disappears into the night.

#rangikusan #ooc #he does have a fine booty tbh

[aeterna--contaminationem-blog]

"That's exactly right!" he replied with a smile that matched hers. Kohaku then huffed out a sigh. "Well, we can only hope, 'cause it's all we've got!" he clenched his hand into a fist before holding it to his chest. "If there's anything that the Fourth Division ranks over in any other division, it has got to be the ability to hope. We hope that the people we heal will get better; we hope that the soldiers will fight well and return to us."

Meisa laughed wholeheartedly, the younger male’s energy contagious. “Is it? It seems like a good way to live by - so long as you’re taking good care of yourself,” she said. He seemed like a healthy and definitely energetic male to Meisa, which she was glad for. Her facial expression softened, her eyes shut as she nodded his head. “I do hope you’re right about that, Oshiro-san,” she responded, drifting off yet again. “Ah, but negative thoughts such as those are no good, are they? We can only hope for the best then!”

#sweetenedhumility

[aeterna--contaminationem-blog]

#ooc #kohaku muse is being an ass #I'll get to replies soon eventually

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//takes a few gracious steps back

“Arara…whatever gave ya that idea~?”

#silvertraitor

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"Not when it makes you look like you'll enjoy ripping my organs out."

“Smilin’s an acceptable greetin’, ain’t it?”

#silvertraitor

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"Eh? No need to worry about me!" Kohaku grinned and offered a cheeky thumbs up, trying to brighten the sudden sour mood. "The number one rule about being a medic is to make sure you're well enough to work on others who aren't!" His grin softened into a simple smile and he patted Meisa on the shoulder gently. "Don't worry. Those Quincies aren't anything compared to the Gotei 13!"

“I can only imagine…” Meisa drifted off, casting her eyes downwards. “It has been rather hectic nowadays, hasn’t it? Everybody’s doing their best in order to defeat that Quincy Army…” She turned her head to face Kohaku, asking, “have you been taking care of yourself, then?” Sometimes, busy people forget to take care of themselves.

#sweetenedhumility

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"Unless you count a creepy grin as a 'hello'. you didn't really say it either!"

“I guess ‘hello’ ain’t cool ‘nymore, eh?”

#silvertraitor

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"You could say that."

“Now, what sort of greeting is that~? Is there somethin’ on my face?”

#silvertraitor #ooc #apologies for lateness

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"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

“Yeah?”

“Somethin’ I can do for you?”

#windbladed #ooc #ahhhhhhhhhh #this is late

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#ooc #replies tomorrow

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"No, no, my friend," he gave a large grin, almost a happy one that he would show to anyone, "I only told you that so you know that you got your arm burned up by a fourth ranked officer from the medical division." Kohaku knew he was being pretty cocky by now, which was exactly the thing that got the breath knocked out of him.

Knowing he probably wouldn't stand a chance without his sword drawn, he reached back and unsheathed the blade, keeping his eyes focused on the Espada. "What about you, huh? What's your name?"

Fourth seat? Fuck, the lack of actual combat really had gotten to him, it seemed. At least with opponents he hadn’t fought before- he hadn’t seemed to have this problem with previous enemies. The lack of trained fighters left in Hueco Mundo after the war had been a toll on him though, having been forced to the far reaches of the place to find any even slightly decent pickings from the stronger hollows.

“Don’t give a shit ‘bout yer’ rank ‘r yer’ squad ‘r whatever. I just like ta’ know the names a’ shinigami that I bring down.” 

He had yet to even draw Pantera, aiming instead for his usual hand-to-hand combat as his fists clenched at his sides.

#caeruleusexcidium #he's just asking to get choked again wow

[aeterna--contaminationem-blog]

Looking over the man who'd just choked him nearly to death, Kohaku analyzed his injuries. Sure the guy's arm was charred, but that wouldn't do much to put him down. He wasn't too sure which of the surviving Espada he was, couldn't remember the name. But, he knew that if the Arrancar was still living, he must have put quite the fight up against his opponent.

Kohaku's chances were slim. 

"My name?" he raised a brow. "Oshiro Kohaku, Fourth Seat of Squad Four."

The arrancar shook his wrist for a moment, eyes narrowed and a low growl rising in his throat, both aimed at himself and the shinigami that dare do this to him. How had he let himself get injured so easily? Had his edge dulled since the war? No, that wasn’t possible- the thought was quickly cast aside with a loud snort. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was not soft, in any use of the term.

Eyes darted back up to the doubled over shinigami, dancing with poorly-hidden anger. “What’s your name, shinigami?”

#caeruleusexcidium

[aeterna--contaminationem-blog]

In a quick moment of decision as the Espada's eyes darted to his now-burnt wrist, his grip loosened and Kohaku sucked in a breath, and hurriedly  forcing the Arrancar's hand from his throat. Using a single shunpo to retreat a few feet away, he coughed and hacked for breath, but kept his stance. He had a feeling this enemy was relentless. 

Too late was it before he realized what the shinigami was doing, not having been exposed to very many kido spells if any at all during his battles in the war, which even at this point had been several years ago. It wasn’t as strong as anything Ichigo had ever thrown at him, but that still didn’t stop the sudden sharp pain in his wrist, the Espada’s lips slipping out a hiss of pain.

Bright cerulean orbs narrowed, a snarl rising up from his throat. “You little shit—”

#caeruleusexcidium

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crumbling-orb

"Who're you?" By the looks of it, he wasn't a shinigami.

#crumblingorb #ooc #omfg the faceclaim is havi from crimson spell #i caNT #thank you for the follow!