The Thrill of the Hunt

Jacques stepped out of the Garganta with a bored expression on his face. He was feeling abnormally hungry, and really felt the need to gorge himself on some hapless Pluses...or some idiot Shinigami if he could get his hands on one. He had chosen Baltimore, Maryland as his hunting ground because of the high crime rate present in the area. That meant more souls, and in turn, meant more Shinigami. He closed his eyes and licked his lips; it was a habit left over from when he had been a Hollow, and his Pesquisa had operated in that fashion. There was a Shinigami nearby. Excellent.

Jacques hurried off toward the source of the reiatsu to find a Shinigami just finishing performing a Soul Burial on some Plus. "Good evening," Jacques said pleasantly. "It's a lovely evening, isn't it? Perfect for a little nightly exercise." The Shinigami didn't respond, only held his katana out in a ready stance. "Ah, you don't trust me because I am an Arrancar. Understandable." Jacques Sonido'd forward to stand right in front of the Shinigami, whose reaction was to stab out and appear to pierce right through Jacques left pectoral (his heart, essentially). Jacques smiled, reached up, and grabbed the Shinigami's hand where he was holding his sword with his right hand, anchoring it there.

"I'm not dead...and you've ruined my suit," he said. He then laid his left hand on the Shinigami's chest and began charging a Cero. The Shinigami's eyes widened, and he fought desperately to escape Jacques's deadly grasp...but to no avail. Jacques's Cero tore through his body, leaving a clean hole right where his right lung would be. The Shinigami collapsed, and Jacques squatted next to him. "You're not dead yet, because you're a Shinigami. You'll find this next procedure to be...EXCRUCIATING." And so, Jacques began to absorb the man's essence while he was still alive, causing him more pain than his Cero had, a hundred times over. After that grisly meal was done, Jacques licked his lips again. Another, stronger essence.

With a grin that was marred by the blood staining his teeth, Jacques headed off for his next kill. This Shinigami looked stronger. She carried herself with more confidence than the last one had, anyway. "Tell me, mademoiselle," said Jacques as he lit a cigarette. "Are you in the mood for a fight for your life this evening?" Without waiting for a response, he Sonido'd forward and aimed a stabbing hand right at her chest. His hand came into contact with her katana, held in an iron guard. "Tch!" Jacques released the pressure, and then aimed two quick strikes at her face, both of which she parried. His third strike she ducked under, but Jacques whirled and kicked out.

His foot caught her in the chest and sent her flying backward. She skidded along the ground but did not fall; Jacques met her blade with his right hand; they traded blows for a few seconds before Jacques's knife shot out of his sleeve aimed right at her breast. She jumped with amazing prowess; her body was perfectly parallel to the ground! Undeterred, Jacques thrust his left hand forward and fired a Bala right into her face, sending her flying backward a second time. She rolled and came to a halt; Jacques appeared above her with a Bala contained in his right fist and slammed it down toward her. She quickly rolled out of the way and came to a standing position, after which she charged him and slashed at his chest.

Jacques leaned backward to dodge the blow, and countered with a couple quick strikes at her shoulders and neck. Their respective weapons clashed against each other several times, neither combatant giving an inch of ground. It happened in an instant. She punched him in the face, he stumbled backward. Seeing an opportunity, she stepped forward to slash at his neck. Jacques anticipated this and ducked, whirling around as he did so. His right arm lashed out, pierced her right underneath her left breast. Blood splashed from her mouth onto his face, and she dropped her sword. Jacques withdrew his hand, and retrieved his knife, and then walked back to her prone form.

"Not bad Mademoiselle. But not good enough," he said as he absorbed her essence.