The Sands Of Time[Invite]

With the time of day being at the hottest, and the powerful beams beating down on him, Theocelese's mind wandered to going off into the clear, blue water. More than that, he felt a strange desire to find and collect sea shells. His mother, the one who helped to raise the god of the forge, always used to make him necklaces of shells she found on the beach and in low depth areas. With a child of his own in these times, he wanted to do the same. He'd collect them from the surrounding islands in an attempt to have a variety, but how would he get them to her without undoing the problem of being affiliated with him? That was what kept him sitting down, the thought of his only child getting into harms way just as her mother did. Out of all the things for a man such as himself to fear, it was not another attempt at assassination from the sun god, nor was it any Shinigami or Arrancar. It was just the fear of making sure someone he loved stayed safe. He grinned sadly at the things love could do. All the good things, but the overwhelming amount of terrible things, too. The war he once died in was started because a man's missing wife, but that story is a public commodity to readers of the ancient texts.


For now, Theocelese would dwell on how to solve this parental problem of his and instead take to the ocean. It wasn't the water of his homeland, but it would do just the same. He rose with a lazy huff and started to undo the sleeves, blue robes covering his torso when a creature slithered onto the beach. It changed forms, spoke to him and continued to alter its appearance. It sounded feminine, looked somewhat feminine and had that feminine aura of politeness to it. His movements at this point were not subtle at all when it came to lifting up his sword. The shield remained face down against the hot sand. With his hand gripped onto the handle and his index finger placed on the flat of the blade, he held the point at the other Hollow. That made his intentions clear right away, he wouldn't be afraid to end this right now if he had to. Chandre could see it in the Arrancar's golden eyes and scarred face that he did not find remorse in killing. Given the emanation of her power, or what she could have just let out, this Hollow wasn't a threat. Then again, they were so far off from any spiritual hot spots that the only reason the Shinigami would show up was by complete accident, or he blew up the chain of islands. Theocelese's arm fell, and the blade found a new home in the sand.
There was no need to be on alert here. It was just them, the island and its animal residents and the water.


“Nobody.” He said, not trying to reference his oldest of friends. “...That you know. “ This Hollow reminded him of some of the more....eccentric beings from his time. If he did not have the knowledge known to him now, Theocelese would have guessed she, or it, was the offspring of a sea nymph. “What brings you to the human realm, Hollow?”

Word Count: 560

It sat down next to him, no need for a swim just yet. The Arrancar's palms fell against his knees as he settled back in, taking in what the Adjuchas had to say to him. There was some truth to what it...what did it call itself again? Chandre, that's right. Chandre spoke some truth and was quite wise to remain outside the business of Hueco Mundo. It was a place for the damned, if being damned meant being weak. And there were a lot of weak things scuttling around. Thankfully, there weren't as many lunatics to try to take all the weak ones as meat shields on some quest for a “holy” agenda. The Adjuchas reminded him of someone. Two people, actually. The first person could help him out with his dilemma, and for what it was worth, he gave the Adjuchas a smile that said 'thank you', although the words did not actually leave off of his tongue. Moments like these, where just having someone around helped him without the person even knowing it, would do some mighty good in the long run.



“A wise decision, I would keep it that way. Just make sure you keep yourself hidden at all times. Better to run, than curse the road.” Chandre probably knew this, but it never hurt to remind another Hollow to always be on guard. Especially at that stage Chandre was at. Reverting back into a lesser being when there was just one last grand leap ahead was devastating to their kind in both the mental and physical aspects. The second person the Hollow reminded him off, he couldn't quite put the name to her face but given a little bit of time he would have it. Rather than bringing her up, he'd remain quiet, trying to give one short and concise answer without seeming like he was reading out of a book to a child at bed time.



“It reminds me of a place I once lived at. It is...peaceful. Quiet. Those two things are a sparse commodity for a kind like ours. To everyone else, you're either a monster, a servant or means for more power but only you yourself can truly dictate you are, and never will become any of those.” His left hand fell to the sand, letting the yellow stream fall in between each finger until the granules rejoined the millions of others once again. “I am....in dire need of those two things, more than anything else. Some semblance of normality, talking to someone else, I will admit is also helpful. I've been through much, and I've paid my dues for those I have wronged. Thank you for approaching me instead of fleeing, I do apologize for my behaviour before.” He nodded at the sword, then reached his hand out as if asking to hold one of the snails.



“When still breathed mortal air, I was told I made a dish called Escargot. Perhaps, if you're interested, I could invite...” He paused briefly, as if doubting the name in his mind. “...you and an old acquintance of mine by the name of Eleanor. She too, is an Arrancar. But I do think you could engage in better conversations than what I can offer.”

Word Count: 543

Theocelese took the snail from Chandre, letting it slither along his hand, bobbing its exposed body left and right as it inched along him. From what he was gathering of the Adjuchas, there was someone else in mind he could potentially introduce Chandre to. Eleanor, the last time he saw her was a Vasto Lorde. Their conversation was brief, but she was like Seran to him. Very intelligent, far more than him in the sense of book smarts, and when it came to crafting and tinkering with things. He knew how to work a forge, and while he still went by a mortal name he was able to reinforce his armaments to destroy his enemies, which as circumstance would have had it happened to be Hollow at the time. Rarely did Theocelese in that time have to worry about Shinigami. After all, they were there to protect him and his kind—humans, that is. Sometimes he was mistaken for a Hollow, but only once did it lead to any sort of altercation with a member of the Gotei 13.

The Arrancar watched the snail a few moments more before moving his arm back to Chandre. The snail continued onwards, back onto Chandre to leave its slime trail elsewhere. Theocelese wiped his arm off on his robes, then reached into a satchel that looked older than the both of them. The cracked, black leather had weathered all that mother nature could throw at it, and it was still here. Even the long, thick strap, as beaten as it was, did not seem to give way. From inside the personal bag, the Arrancar took out something wrapped in aluminum foil. Upon opening up the foil, Theocelese revealed something he baked himself not more than a couple of days ago. A dark chocolate brownie filled with maraschino cherries, fudge and topped with cream cheese frosting. The brick-sized dessert was set down in between the two, and while he hadn't planned on sharing this with anyone else...it was nice to be hospitable again. The only problem was, he didn't have a knife....but he had a sword. Theocelese pulled his legendary blade from its sandy sheath, wiped both sides of the sword's flat on his hakuma and then cut half of the brown into thin slices. He nodded to it, his mind still trying to figure out the question asked.

What did he do? And what name should he give her? Obviously the one all other Hollow, and to some extent, certain people in the Soul Society. “I go by the name of Theocelese now. Have been going by that for some time but I...” He paused, using this moment of hesitation to then wipe the frosting off the flat facing him. The whipped frosting, sweet and light. Not like conventional cake frosting, which he aptly named 'Tooth Rot' due to the insane, gritty sweetness. He savored the taste and it brought him once again to a better time. “I'm...” He paused again, only this time it was more apparent he was having trouble with his thoughts, especially with how late he flipped to the opposing flat, but didn't clean the frosting off just yet. After it was nearly clean, the sword found itself stuck in the sand next to his bag.

His tone softened dramatically, and again his eyes shifted to something more passive. “I've done a lot,” The Arrancar sighed softly, folding his arms behind his head just before his back touched the ground. “but for the time being I haven't done much. Just going from island to island, doing the same exact thing I was doing before we started talking.” He left it at that, and crossed one leg over the opposite knee.

Word Count: 623

The advice given to him by the Adjuchas was one he would take note of. Though sometimes he felt old, like when it was too cold or rained really hard and his knees, shoulders and wrists ached, she was right. Technically speaking, he had until whatever divine power that be decided to wrap things up or someone like that bastard Aizen actually succeeded in his goals to bring everything to ruin to do whatever the hell he wanted. Granted, he couldn't exactly go to college again to learn some new trade, he could sit in on whatever classes he wanted and take notes. As boring as that may seem for a “powerful, immortal soul eating wonder of nature”, he could still learn things and bring what was learned in conjunction with his notes back to place he frequented and called home. He imagined the look Seran would give him and couldn't help but form a devilish smirk. The strange man who built him a supernatural cellphone—not once, but twice, because he wasn't good with keeping track of the device and wound up breaking the first, standing there with a blank look on his face with a very subtle undertone of 'why aren't you doing something more productive'? That in itself...was a good question at the moment. Though making a new friend actually was something productive and worth while, Theocelese mentally dismissed the previous thought.



He couldn't help but chuckle at Chandre's notion of the sword being his Zanpakuto. He thought back to her earlier comment on her fascination of those of their kind who took off the masks which kept their true identity hidden. Every other person he met, Shinigami or Arrancar, their Zanpakuto were always weapons. More often than not, swords to some degree. But not Theocelese, his was...different, in all aspects. It could be said that in order to protect others, one must have a weapon of some kind to ward off those who meant to harm his or her loved ones. Such was not true about this particular Arrancar, history being what it was with him and the origin of his being, the shield was a staple of the soldier, who fought for the same reasons that anyone today fought for. Not only did it serve better to keep others safe, but it kept him safe from the threats of others as well. Like any fighter, Theocelese's dominant weapon was an extension of his own being. It was, however, a funny thought that his power should be contained inside of a literal barrier. Maybe he was too strong for his own good and grew to power too fast.



“That is not my Zanpakuto, the shield is.” He shifted to his side, facing Chandre to watch her figure beautifully contort and meld, exposing the face of the woman who came to be another one of the millions of Hollow in existence. The youthful look on Chandre's “true” face made Theocelese pondered how young she must have been when she died and while tragic if true, was just the nature of the world. Her opinion on her former features, however were more tragic than her death. Theocelese sat up once more to go digging into his bag and this time, he did not produce something to quench a sweet tooth, but instead a wallet that looked relatively new. New, but clearly used. From the double-sided plastic slips, a picture taken a few years before his death was removed and handed over to the Adjuchas. Theocelese looked similar in facial features then, minus the front-view of bone helmet. If he put on a tuxedo like in picture, he'd look almost exactly the same.



“What about pieces like the Mona Lisa, or Michelangelo's famous work in the Sistine chapel? Those have been around for quite some time and are a marvel to see in person. You should embrace yourself and take pride in that face. Whereas my face would be remembered for being worn by someone mean and vicious, yours would be for its ability to stun those who behold it. Should there be the day you decide to become an Arrancar, I do so hope you keep that face.” Theocelese fell back into his laying position, arms keeping his head propped up and his legs comfortably crossed. His eyes remained on Chandre's face, looking into her eyes now to see any reaction to his silver-marinated words. “You must also remember that while we're viewed as monsters, there is no living species as terrible as humans. We should know, we've been there. Even if you did not walk the same path I did in my human lives, the two I recollect any way.” He kept it at that, thinking on the blessings that were suppose to come with this life. As of right now, he felt cursed more than blessed with the recent events he was forced to endure. No doubt he would be involved in future conflicts, Theocelese just wasn't sure which side he would be with. It was a sad eventuality, just as a thief stole once but told to himself only once, and no more, the thrill was too much to contain. Theocelese held this mentality, he was born and bred to end lives. He excelled in combat, capable of holding his own in the midst of carnage and his former previous life, was renown for his uncontrollable rage.

“I suppose the only positive thing I can think of as a blessing something you already said: I have all the time to do whatever I want.”

Word Count: 935

It seemed that the perspectives of art differed here, though one of them was an actual artist and the other performed well in only one art, the art of war. The only way he could make a comparison was having the same dish over and over again that he liked. Over time it would lose its luster and he would want something else. It has happened before. Still, though, it would be nice to know that should that day of transformation come to Chandre, she would keep the face that he knew. Granted, he could probably feel her out for who she was but a face was something different. A face was definitely more personal, and strangely he liked to know someone's face rather than what their Reiatsu felt like. There were others that differed, but everyone was different.



“I'm not sure, to be completely honest with you.” Theocelese cast a glance over at the waters in front of them, his eyes holding there for the time being. “The story of that, for me at least, is that a Shinigami possessed something of great power. He told me that what I wanted the most would be mine, all I need do is accept his guidance. As an Adjuchas, I recalled bits and pieces of the life not long ago. I knew of my daughter's existence, and another Vasto Lorde, a dear friend of mine in those times when I still was human, made sure I did not attack her when all that I could fathom was devouring others. It's...funny to think about now. He could have killed me at any time, but he allowed me when I was human to sit him down and make him promise to me he would do that. Anyways...I'm rambling...” Theocelese laughed loudly at the thought of when Beastia actually came to visit him, always eager for conversation and some new, foreign dish.



“What I clung to the most, was who I was. I needed that information, even into my own Vastohood. The only thing that Shinigami ever did right was help me remember who I was. I suppose forced servitude was the price I had to pay.” And then it hit him, anything he ever really wanted-truly wanted, he always paid dearly for. They say his former name was one of eternal grief and sorrow. That made sense to him now. Hopefully all of what was spewn out quenched any lingering curiosities or questions the Adjuchas had in store. The next one, he chose to answer very carefully. Theocelese finally looked to Chandre, and in his eyes there was an intense seriousness that far-exceeded any emotion given through his eyes.



“I am the soul of he who died by the hands of a god, who was renown as the best warrior in all of my country. I am he who first landed on the soil of the very land I died in. I have been reincarnated, time and time again and have lived through many, yet I remember the life I can only recall is this one.”



His eyes lessened and a humorous smile crossed his face. The name he referred to in this way was already in the one given. Chandre just needed to research and dwell on it.



“...And that wallet was a gift given to me by an old Shinigami friend. Hand made in one of the wealthier districts of the Rukongai, she told me. As for the pictures, some are older. Some are recent within this decade, as I've only been dead for...” Theocelese made a face that suggested he actually needed to think about it. “Ten years, give or take.”

Word Count: 613

“Well...” Theocelese began, putting a finger on his bearded jawline, pausing as if to recall the entire experience or...more still getting used to just what he saw. It was undeniable the things this man was capable of, constructive or destructive, he could level towns in one fell swoop, challenge at least three of the Gotei's Captains and come out the winner, he even unified a section of Hollow and Arrancar and made something of Las Noches...but what Chandre did, change from form to form so quickly and to take on the characteristics of those bodies such as their voices....It reminded him of a movie he saw growing up called The Thing. In the back of his mind, he almost felt the need to ask if Chandre was some kind of alien and not really a Hollow at all. His original belief regarding the afterlife, Jesus Christ and the Heavenly Kingdom, were smashed and the remaining fragments of his beliefs were incinerated when he learned that the gods of old actually did exist, and some of them existed to this day.



“You are right, there are some Shinigami who choose not to immediately draw their blades at us. In fact, the very Shinigami I befriended, her name was Hitomi...something....I can't recall the rest, but I met her when I was a human.” Theocelese began. Oh, the rant Chandre was about to receive brought him back to a different state of mind, so much so the thoughts that were bothering him were forced out of the way. “I believe that when the god who originally struck me down did so, he cursed my spirit. I am adept, more so than normally, when light has been vanquished. Such a thing affected me greatly in my most recent bout with humanity, and I did not have complete control of it, for when I found myself in immense trouble, it...just flicked on, like some kind automated fire. I am sure at the time some ruffians were in the process of mugging me and had struck me several times.



My memory in what I did to them is not much but blotches of still images, but I remember reading in the paper the next day they were all hospitalized. I nearly beat them into their graves, but Hitomi came. My energy signature was like that of a Hollow, that is why she responded with such haste. They say my rage was one that required several others to keep me restrained, and with an influx of power such as what I felt, it was worse than that. We fought, and it came to a draw. I bent her Shikai slightly, and we both suffered some grievous wounds, however it formed a strong friendship. She helped me gain a semblance of control over time, and I helped Hitomi hone her own skills.” Theocelese grinned widely, his thoughts now going back to when Hitomi and every time she came over she brought groceries so he could cook for her. He didn't know what it was about females in the Soul Society, but they always had a way of breaking his appliances. That was a story for another time.



“Of course...I knew many when I was a human. A man in the Third Squad...what was his name...Kira! That's it. He was close to the status of an officer, if I do recall. I also met Kaname Tousen, one of the Shinigami who served the man who enslaved me, as well. Well into my death, though, I met many more Shinigami and even a few Vizards—er...Shinigami who have been infected with a Hollow, and can use that infection to strengthen their own power.” The grin on his face returned, but bore a greater width this time. “I suppose I just have an Old-World knack for knowing people, one that could help you. And I will talk to him-” He took pause and let out a hearty laugh, reaching up to slap Chandre on the back. “Who am I trying to fool? He won't bother with what I have to say unless you meet him, and Chandre ma petite choufleur, it seems that I am just in a possession of a plethora of people you must meet.” This all meant that Seran and himself would have to go back to Las Noches to reclaim old technology, one that would help Chandre in her efforts and have some organic compositions to it. Theocelese was sure his own sets of weaponry and armor were still locked in his room. Now there was still the matter of addressing the French Hollow's last request, one he wasn't sure of. “I also suppose I could aid you in what you ask for....but why exactly would you like one-or both-of those two things?”

Word Count: 811

It was...a lot of scientific speak that he understood to a certain degree. However, the case of applying the things Chandre said was a completely different matter. Theocelese would not call himself a man of science, or too great at math. He could fix up an old beater car with time and the proper parts, but anything involving a microscope and petri dishes happened to be out of his preferred league. The things suggested by Chandre to do could be done with some time and practice, but that was just a preference for the Arrancar to do something as opposed to sit and study and create. Is limitations of creation for the purposes of combat, were simply just that of weapons of melee and ranged variety, as well as armor. For the sake of humoring the Adjuchas, he lifted up the shield and held it up. Without so much as a thought or concern, his other arm pressed into the sharpened outer-edge and moved down. Theocelese literally peeled off a small layer of skin, just big enough to hold a few strands of arm hair to it. There was a little bit of blood, some skin, and hair all in one. As for the tiny chunk taken out of his arm..Well, that could be regenerated no problem. A faint, purple outline surrounded him briefly, the focus, more or less was concentrated on the self-inflicted wound. By the time the outline around his body faded away, it appeared his previous action never occurred. With the small bit on his index finger, Theocelese reached out and held the desired samples out for her.



“Here. Your troubles are known to me, and you seem like a good enough person that if I aid you, you will return the favor some day,” He began, his face shifting from relaxed to a bit more serious. “Hopefully, that day will be in about a week from now. I'll be talking to a friend of mine in a day or so. I've mentioned him already, Seran, and I've already made mention of you two coming together. You see, the particular Shinigami who once enslaved me, left behind a considerably large dwelling for us Hollow and Arrancar. In that dwelling...laboratories that I once inherited and could make very little use of.



Seran makes use of them, but one being can only do so much. With help, and your area of expertise, I would guess the things sitting dormant there could be put to use. Not to mention, no one will bother you while you work.”

Word Count: 430

Theocelese grinned at her verbal response, followed by a laugh that served to further relax him mentally. “I've been told I'm charming enough to not need a second one,” He shot back, the laugh descending into a soft chuckle of his own. “We would meet there, in the laboratories of the facility. We will be going ahead a few days to clear of potential dissenters, squatters, or former factions of Aizen who saw my absence as a means to take back the place they once were driven out of.” Thinking back on that bloody event, Theocelese once found himself regretting the actions taken that day. But now...with this new mentality gained, he saw it was the only fitting route to take. Mercy was granted to all and a peaceful divide was an option those clutching to the belief Aizen was the one who would lead them greatness. Some took that divide, others did not. And those others were not around to tell that tale. Why did he let so many potential future enemies go? That question bounced around the inside his head, and he made a mental note that those Arrancar should be taken out.

“I can assure you as powerful as I am, power means nothings when it serves no purpose. My role as a leader has been to protect others. Specifically, our kind, sometimes from each other but mostly against Shinigami. Though sometimes, they were run-a-ways who needed a home and a purpose of their own. You are one who is particularly gifted, and I see that gift as something that needs protection from outside sources of hostility. Call it curiosity to see what you are capable of making, call it wanting to try and understand something outside of my comprehension, call it what you will, but a place like Las Noches needs people like you and I. To protect it and make it great. I am not saying you are to stay there for all times, I honestly don't care if you use the facilities for your own personal interests. What I do care about, is that you know there is a place for you to go and be safe, to do as you wish and create what you will.

This is important to me, as you can tell. While you were free from Aizen's clutches, you may not be from further forces with similar intentions. That is my end goal, Chandre. To make it known we aren't just mindless monsters to put a leash on and command to blindly mush forward.”

Word Count: 426

“This little sit-down was coincidental and sporadic. You have things to do, and I have things I need to go over. No wrong in that. I'll meet you outside the walls then, take care until then.” Theocelese waved a goodbye for now, then went to promptly gathering his things. The large brownie was carefully wrapped up, as to make sure no sand would find its way inside the foil wrapping. He would watch as Chandre left to go about her experiments with the gathered snails. He thought she would make a good addition to the people of Las Noches, regardless of her evolutionary status or physical form. There was, in his mind, no doubt those who took more of a liking to a fight than research and develop were a dime a dozen in their homeworld. He also took a fairly large guess that Seran would fancy having someone to work with someone who didn't just carry boxes and haul equipment around.

As for himself, he would try to be there as long as he could. It was not as though he had planned to leave the two as soon as they met, but the situation more or less revolved around if the two were to go into researcher mode, spitting out scientific jargon and phrases he needed a book to look up. Though there was the issue of knowing that he would be called away, this time on better terms than the last. He owed the old ones his life, so no doubt they would beckon him to some task or another. With these thoughts on his mind, Theocelese picked up each one of his personal items and took to the sky to repeat the process of randomly finding a new location to mull on the interaction that transpired. Time, it seemed, would bring many good things to him once again.

word count: 312