[P] MEMENTO MORI; MAYHEM

The eyelids of Carrla Vargas slowly lifted. Her eyes immediately feasted upon a sight she never in her extensive life ever would have imagined herself witnessing. The thick haze of fatigue progressively diminished from her eyes and perhaps it was still tinged in red from her ireful episode awhile ago – the amount of time that passed was unknown to the mayhem incarnate. But nonetheless it dissolved and her expression remained passive as consciousness fully seeped into her being. When it came to her ambitions perhaps she wasn’t quite there yet, but she couldn’t help but feel different. She was unable to place why exactly that was, but she felt as though she learned something – was it humility? It was impossible to interpret that, first came checking out just where she was.

Comfort was the last thing she expected, but as she looked around at both herself and the luxurious vicinity she seen that she was being treated to the finest hospitality available. Her mind was initially numbed with confusion until she seen the viciously powerful figure before her – this must have been Vaaen’s very own chambers. There was a lone question prominent in her mind, and that was why? A simplistic monosyllabic query that entirely dominated her mind. To be treated to this by Vaaen himself, her inflictions healed, assets dressed, resting within what she assumed was his very own royal bed, was she something more than what she felt she was? Maybe there was something about her – maybe Vaaen knew her better than she knew herself. She couldn’t discern if she would do the same for herself, for when she looked at herself she didn’t see anything but a withered chitin meatshield and she wished to rectify that…

“What is … ”

Sitting up from her position, she felt a lot more at ease then she thought she would have. Her previous injuries were severe, but they had been healed and she had the privilege of no immense pain haunting her muscles, even if they did feel fairly stiff and tense from previous exertion. Her crimson eyes fixated upon him and within them burned a new fire of zest and passion, which replaced her previous apathy and stoicism from months ago. The question he posed was the question bouncing around within her head and when Carrla parted her lips to speak she was unable to come up with anything as of yet. She was not yet strong as the greater Espada, so why?

“Is it my aspect?”

The albinistic woman was in for a shock when she heard Vaaen's revelation of his opinion on her. Her widened eyes continued to pool their sanguine attention upon the wrath incarnate before her. In a sense she had been right with her statement, but perhaps she only got lucky with her understanding because it was one of the only remaining things that could possibly elate her value – but she never imagined it would be to this extent. But for the first time she was feeling as though were aspect and tendencies weren't just some random acts of violence to satiate her bloodlust, but something more. Was this to say her wanton destruction had purpose?

What is wrath?

The gears of her mind began to shift around, greased by the oils of knowledge and she started to try and interpret the knowledge he was providing to the best of her ability. If she was wrong he could easily rectify her flawed concept of what the aspect was truly about – the actual profound meaning of the word and force itself, something that when cast unto anything was deemed a blessing. Whereas many deemed it a curse, she was beginning to think she could understand why Vaaen considered it a blessing.

"Wrath is..."

She looked upwards momentarily, before directing her gaze back towards Vaaen.

"Is it not salvation, in a sense? For growth often originates from the ashes of ruin, doesn't it? Growth is power and through power would it be accurate for me to say..."

She paused for a moment, thinking back to what he'd told her a time ago.

"One can liberate themselves of their chains?"

With every word entering her ears the curious and sober expression painted upon her countenance was tinctured with an increasingly abundant amount of enthusiasm. Up until then, she hardly knew anything about her own aspect. She had been naught but an immature entity who could hardly embrace and discern her own purpose and aspect beyond a one-dimensional and wanton compulsion to mindlessly destroy things that crossed her path. Carrla months ago had been a simple shell of what she could have been, a mere husk resilient to any sort of advice provided to it. Only when she had learned and felt the power personally did she acquire the ability to listen, interpret and absorb the sacred knowledge and truly appreciate it. The feeling was entirely intoxicating.

She had been a slave to both the whimsical fool she used to call her Godking and herself – for she had been so imbecilic to both follow his rule and to blind herself to her very own potential and understanding – a mutual understanding between herself and Vaaen truly exclusive to only them.

There truly was more meaning to it than just aimless carnage – it was about caring for life. It was about providing opportunity, it was not a senseless thing, it was about eliciting growth and about promoting one's own and others' freedom through the indiscriminating inferno of wrath and mayhem, instilling into others the blessing called strife so that they could flourish; and that inferno was something that was shining vibrantly within her blood red orbs.

It was an epiphany.

The haze of red that clouded her vision transitioned into a wrathful fire that cleared the palpable darkness that previously obscured her vision. She knew – she always knew – and now she'd learned even more. Vaaen had provided her with the luxury of being utensil of the most enlightening force in existence...

But nothing could have prepared her for what she heard next.

The title of Cero Espada had been bestowed upon her.

At first her mind could barely compute what she was told and the look of surprise her expression featured was nigh tangible. She did not expect it at all, she truly did not, but she now understood why he'd picked her for such a role, the responsibility, the prestige. She felt her soul impregnated by naught but purpose and understanding and Carrla Vargas looked up from the lower placement on the bed her attention had shifted to, towards Vaaen. This was no longer the creepy one-dimensional wrecking ball they'd all known so well for so long. The flames of zeal burned intensely within her eyes.

And she reached out to his extended palm, setting her pale hand upon it.

"There is truly no honor higher than this, my Godking."

Her lips curled broadly into a smile wrought with authenticity.

"Done this honor, I feel every ounce of my being laden with purpose. I feel as though I see with clarity. There will be wrath, I will do everything in my power to assure that. When I was immature, I couldn't see that purpose beyond my ignorant compulsion to indulge in meaningless and one-dimensional bloodlust. But now I know and I care, and because of that care I can now lend my aid in cleansing life itself, so it may be free by the embrace of the liberating flames of wrath and mayhem! It'll be glorious!"

The smile upon her lips had been the first earnest smile she gave in an extremely long time. The Godfather of Hueco Mundo, what a title to behold! She believed it was a title that only Vaaen deserved. It was the first time the albino ever expressed such an undying loyalty to a person. When she previously swore her loyalty to Luucio Krakken, it hadn’t been because he had genuinely earned her loyal feelings or her patriotism, he possessed little in terms of ideologies that she truly admired and perhaps that was because she never held so strongly onto an ideology as much as she did now. But under his rule Hueco Mundo truly stunk, his strength was otherworldly – admirable, but such nationalist pride required more of an anchor than just fear to establish. She truly genuinely felt an unbreakable loyalty towards Vaaen.

When she felt the kiss against her forehead, she was instilled with surprise, but that surprise soon dissolved as she retained her composure, for she felt the trueness of the gesture. The trust passed into her being had been far more than she’d ever be able to comprehend or know at that moment, but she could feel the immensity of the emotion as it seeped into her. The gesture in itself was appreciate, stirring a response in her nigh unheard of in the past, she found her expression softening for a transient moment, even though the permanent flames in her eyes continued to perpetually burn as did the sun. This wasn’t just a matter of professional duty anymore; she could not let Vaaen down – it simply would not happen. This was now do or die.

Luucio Krakken was to die.

She could not help but reciprocate the eye contact, her enjoyment of the oceanic eyes which she felt clearly represented the vastitude of his power was clearly evident in her crimson gaze.

The words he spoke – she couldn’t agree more. The fat would be cut and the lonely contributor to the taint corrupting their cherished Hueco Mundo would be no more. To kill a God was no simple or easy feat, but she fully believed that Vaaen had a plan and through that plan the surreal power that was Luucio Krakken would be exterminated once and for all like an unwanted pest. A knowing calm befell her. Rebirth.

Although told to leave, her own reluctance to depart was nearly as blatant. It’d have been surely uncharacteristic of her former self, but now she truly appreciated his presence and while every bit of her soul cried for her to remain, if she did not get back to her kingdom and inform her armies duly, she would jeopardize the very plan in itself with her own personal feelings and she could not be some kind of liability. Looking at him, she herself catching glimpse of herself in the mirror as she pushed herself up, hell, did her eyes ever look different. A fire of zeal lit within them, it could not be extinguished, but they could not be any softer for that small moment and perhaps he wouldn’t notice. With the speed she would travel back to her home a greater deal of vestments was not a prerequisite; her previous clothes were mere scraps courtesy of the latest trauma they received.

“Right away, Godfather,” she started, swallowing her strong feelings to linger, which pained her more than any ghost cutter could. “It was a great honor to be accompanied by you within these chambers; I hope someday I may be fortunate enough to return.” The humanoid torch of mayhem and wrath stood, continuing to look at him as he looked at her through the mirror. She closed her eyes, stilling her feelings and starting out the chambers to exit. If encountering no intervention Carrla would, albeit extremely reluctantly, disappear in an abrupt display of speed second nature to any Espada. When she got back to her kingdom she would do just that, inform her army that it must follow Vaaen Vorenz's every command.

To do what they were doing was to go up against a God. This was no gross exaggeration – she could only describe the power of the Godking as immeasurable. Infinite. She and the others seen what happened to the last person who tried to oppose the Godking first hand; would the outcome be any different from them? Against this monstrosity she couldn’t be so ridiculously foolish to assume that this would be an easy feat, but she needed to believe in their ability to get the job done. Perhaps she should maintain a reasonable level of fear to elude recklessness. A curiosity developed in her just as to how tomorrow would go.

There was a grand significance in the manner of which he addressed her as she was just about to depart. When she was suffering from ignorance she never was truly addressed by her name, merely a title or a derogatory variant, but to be able to feel the appreciation emanating from the statement alone further promoted her immediate motion, steering herself around to eagerly fixate her attention upon him. She no longer concealed those zealous eyes behind those pallid eyelids; they pooled all of their attention upon him.

It’d been the first time Vaaen touched her in such a manner. There was strength in his touch, his hand was rough, but was in direct contrast to the feelings she felt seeping into the atmosphere. She knew exactly what she had forgot, her lips curled into a smile; how could she have forgotten such an integral thing? Her heart hammered against her chest and as she was pulled in to embrace both passion and Wrath, feeling those moist lips against her own, her own inhibitors diminished as she reciprocated the gesture, returning the kiss, something that she evidently had been yearning for. She closed her eyes, and indulged in the sheer passion of the moment. She needed to succeed tomorrow; she would not have this be the last time she experienced this passion with the Godfather.

The sensation was utterly elating. The way their tongues danced and the way she tasted the concoction that was their mingled saliva was the most indulgent she’d ever been with this variety of gesture. The euphoria breached the impregnable defences of her heart and bloated every cell of her with a sensation simply otherworldly. She felt as though she was floating and her heart knew not how to stop beating in at its laboriously hastened velocity. Her mind only knew passion in that moment and it was as though they were the only ones who existed; the two of them within a sea of passion that knew no bounds.

Nobody had yet before instilled such knowledge and elicited such progression in her spiritually. Nobody else had such a perfect fire of wrath that possessed such extravagant wisdom and experience. There was no entity quite like Vaaen Vorenz, nobody else who could refine her outlook in the way he did, nobody else could possibly save her from her former ignorant state of mindless bloodlust. She fully understood and she was saved and the entity that saved her was entirely remarkable. She felt like a fool to not have seen it before; both her own potential and his incredibility.

As his hands strayed to her curves she could not help but snake her hands onto his back in all of its distinct muscularity, fingers unable to resist kneading and feeling along what they could. Her reluctance was apparent when they resigned from the kiss, but it was something that she could accept. His words that followed permeated through her veins like liquid fire and upon incurring the kiss to her neck she could not help but arch her back slightly in sheer enjoyment. One response primed her mind and she quickly verbalized it following his statement. "Then you will have me.”

The frequency and weight of her breaths ineluctably increased exponentially throughout the session as she felt kisses trailed down her being, progressing to her collarbone and more. Her fingers lusted for more contact, to feel more, as she was lifted from her placement at that time. The proximity invaded her senses with the elating Italian scent and she felt her mind further numbed by the euphoric scenario. She yearned to feel more of his perfectly chiselled form and brawn and before she knew it the albino was going to get her wish. She had been pinned against the bed and the sheer force knocked aside valuables in the room, but she'd been far too lost in the moment to acknowledge them beyond the sound they inevitably emitted at collision.

And she would get her wish indeed for the moment Vaaen liberated himself of the purple button-up her hands sought out to familiarize themselves with every inch of the unrivalled muscle his torso was so prominently comprised of. Her own tattoo would only be localizable should one have looked at her back, so perhaps, she figured, only later in the bout would it be more readily perceptible. She could hardly wait for that number six she was so directly associated with to be substituted by a telling zero. It would be an honor like no other. But those thoughts were discarded the moment they came, for the thoughts of the present passion and sensations dominated her mind.

A light moan escaped her when contact with her breasts, voluptuous as they were, had been accomplished. To observe the act of the medical bandages being undone by teeth alone only added fuel to the fire that was her current arousal, which further lit the inferno kindled within her crimson eyes. The approaching pair of lips, gaining on the prize between her legs, further laid siege to her sanity for how much she was yearning for the contact, had she needed to wait any longer she was positive she would fully lose wit. She spread her legs, pale like porcelain more as a method of beckoning impassioned Espada to the meal he so fervidly desired.