Disclaimer: An enduring fact - I don't own the Bleach fandom or anything in it, etc. etc.
A/N: This is the first Bleach fic I've finished in quite a while.. Took months to complete, too. Sigh. ..But never mind - here it is.
Reverberation
It is quiet. Starrk appreciates the silence. Though stillness hangs instead of air, he can relate to the lack of motion. Subdued scenery surrounding him – no.. you could drop the 'scenery' part. He's not sure where he is.
Nowhere.
Everywhere.
Nothing.. There is nothing to see. He does not need to cast his gaze around, but hell. Let's do it anyway.
Darkness.
Darkness.
Melded grays. ...Sand.
Ah.
Desert. Of course. Why has he forgotten?
(Not worth remembering?)
...Silence.
It's nice.
A beat.. if time could be measured.
He supposes.
Well. Not much to take in. But it's the middle of nowhere (...no need)...
…
Nothing.
…
Nothing.
...Nothing. Absolutely.. Nothing.
He can just..
Be.
Black expanse. Stretching out and out. And out.. and out..
And out...-
Eternity. That's what he can see (though he can't fathom why he's even looking. ..Magnetism, perhaps). Eternity stretching out its pitch-black fingers, beckoning... Ever beckoning...
Deeper.
Deeper..-
Don't look. But what does that matter? You never need to.
Eternity...
Forever..
Forever. Fine. Go ahead. Give him nullity on a silver plate, but forever..- That was..
(Too scary)
Too strong for him to face alone.
He is weak.
..Hah. No.. He has strength. More than enough.
Though beside that forever, he still feels too damn weak.
…
...Silence. He is staring. Staring. As if he is..
Waiting..
Searching, for something to see. Something to actually look at, to... Block out the void.
…Or...
…
..Eh.
He doesn't know.
He wishes Lilynette was here. But she's off somewhere, wherever, he doesn't care – only thing that's registering is that she's not near enough to him.
…
Could be for the best. She'd probably just kick him.
...Silence...
There are no limits, but he is starting to feel enclosed. And there is literally nothing in this.. desert.. Blended mundane and surrounding black and the gray, gray sand.
And it hits him; vaguely, mildly, but it is still a revelation.
…
Gray is actually.. quite dull.
(...Were those crickets chirping?)
..Bored. He's bored, and everything is nothing and the same.
Beyond.
...Sometimes, sometimes further wishes emerge like mist; wisps. Fleeting and precious (but barely appreciated). So vague, but urgent as they twirl and unfurl in his head.
Something. Couldn't there be.. something..?
Trees spring up in response, delicate and as frail as the inclinations.
They continue to wither.
The hope dies.
There is still nothing.
(And he continues to survive.)
…Silence...
Forever...
And..-
...Starrk decides – he doesn't like this dream very much.
He wakes up.
Awareness takes its time. There's no rush, however, so Starrk doesn't encourage it. ..Little point.
It's still dark, but then again, it wasn't as if light could be let in if you didn't open your eyes.
Anyway.
The darkness reaches far beyond his lidded vision. His mind is murky.. Dank. Accumulated gloom, born from apathy and neglect. Fog is non-existent, surprisingly.. Though he has long embraced it; got used to it, if you will.
(He's losing his ability to tell the difference.)
Whatever. His mood is not improved, he notices.
...He also fails to care. Why be surprised? Rest these days was... Eluding him. Proper rest, not the simple act of sleeping. He doesn't even have to try to feel it – the weariness pressing down on him. Lack of repose. Nothing to do with hours... Just..
No...
Inner peace. Instead, constant...
Dissatisfaction.
...
..That is going to have to do. It's an adequate enough label...- Not that he needed a description for himself.
He feels tired. Right now, too.. he feels... Empty. Big deal, maybe, but that is what is noticeable. Obvious, painfully blatant – well, 'painful' only if he could experience even the memory of that hurt again.
...Nope.
(It hasn't changed.)
Empty as ever, more so than that hole in his chest.
Sigh.
Uncomfortable territory. He had left that 'dream' for a reason.
...
Move on.
More silence.
It remains quiet. ..Curious. Though..
(He hasn't really been listening, has he?)
Tune in.
Darkness.
Darkness..
Open your eyes.
...Darkness, slightly lessened.
More gloom.
Muted, boring colours.
Whites (grays). Blues.
...Oh.
Yes. The meeting room, of course. Though he hasn't forgotten.
Really.
It may have slipped his mind, but that could have been the intention.
Starrk checks. Looks around (even if he probably doesn't need to). The long table with its bland blue sheen, high backed chairs encouraging discomfort. Eleven seats for company. Two of which remain absent.
Pause. He shifts, readjustment being needed. Damn this awkward chair.
..What was he saying? His company... Hmm. Yes..
Not much to say about them. Not much he cared to share. (Why repeat himself?) His fellow Espada are.. fellow Espada. 'Comrades-in-arms'.. Heh.
That's too much. But he can call them 'company'. He'll make do with that.
Also, one leader (and two wannabes.. not seated, and not counted apparently). Aizen.. In charge, strong. There wasn't much else he could comment about him. The Shinigami had extended a hand – not forever, but a nice change...
The trail of thought drifts away, waning until nullity in the air. Starrk stares around some more, though it's not worth the effort. They are still waiting – for Aizen, and Grimmjow. No surprise. At the rest of the table, there is activity. Noise is evident even from the corners of the room where Gin alone lurks (Tousen has likely gone to find Grimmjow). Szayel Aporro is wittering away to Zommari, the latter's quiet arrogance filtering out most of what is being blathered at him. Ever more salacious comments are coming from Nnoitra, from Starrk's left – louder and louder and louder, as if Quinto doesn't understand that Harribel is just never, ever going to rise to it.
And..
Yammy's earlier 'conversation' with Aaroniero seems to have descended into argument, and near-deafening trash-talking is clashing with one, or both, of Noveno's whining heads. Ulquiorra's tolerance, and therefore reiatsu, beside Starrk is plunging in mood again, creating that sudden churning sensation in your stomach as if you're falling into a pit..
A chasm...
A void...
He sighs out loud, and catches Baraggan's eyes. They squint as if in constant assessment, and the usual 'result' is nothing good. But just this once...
...
Nope. The Segunda's expression twists further, bile shimmering through the cracked visage which reeks already of distaste.
Nothing new there, then.
..A pity.
Possibly. Starrk removes his elbows from the surface he had been leaning them on, straightening his composure. The action is incredibly lethargic.. but it is action nonetheless.
The ugly look Baraggan is sending him only darkens.
..Oh, well.
(Nothing changes.)
He was a stuck up old bastard anyway. Far too happy on his makeshift throne...
"TEMEE! I'll kill you!"
"-Don't worry, I'm certainly not expecting you to understand such intricacies – your intellect would need to improve immensely before you would be able to cope-"
"-What did you say, you little bitch-?"
So..
Much..
"-I'll POUND YOU INTO THE GODDAMN FLOOR!"
Bickering.
"Your empty, flowery words tell me you know absolutely nothing, Octava. Your (unfounded) self-adoration knows absolutely no bounds, does it n-"
Always, so..
"-There is nothing I have to say to you, Nnoitra."
Pointless.
"-Oh, yeah..? I-"
(Noise)
Starrk wants to groan. This wasn't going to stop until Aizen arrived, either..
"-It'll be only too easy to devour you, De-"
(Noise)
Though.. Could he be that patient..? Did he even want to be?
...(Noise)
(Noise)
"Insignificant worms-"
"...Nothing more to add? Run out of-"
"Don't IGN-"
(Noise, noise)
(Noise)
"..You are a waste of-"
"Che.. Br-"
(Noisenoisenoise)
"-You are worth a fraction of me, you deluded cre-"
"-Shame you're not as powerful.. As you are b-"
(NOISE)...
...
(Nah.)
Starrk decides.
Need to get away.. His head lolls forward with the thought, plunging him back once more into stillness; silence.
(He just couldn't be bothered.)
...
..Maybe the dreams will be better this time.