What We Are... (Joint Training, R , NDE)

[MrDoctorDo]

(OoC: The setting is the Squad 11 Barracks, and the scene is one of introduction. More or less. Oh, and there is a lost pet. Is there anything more tragic than that? Probably not. So, let's get this rolling! Get situated in this new mentality!)

There is a prevailing question that haunts the minds of thinkers, poets...and the dead, alike. "What are we?" The complexity to such a musing is far deeper than any could imagine. It is a query that encompasses the all of existence, from the finest fraction of atomic mass, to beyond the reaches of the multiverse's infinite boundaries. There are many ways to interpret this riddle. "Why are we here?", " What is the meaning of life?", or "Why me?" The sickening fact that we must all come to accept about such inquiries is that, there can never be an answer. That among the multitudes which exist, there can be an equal number of answers....all of which could have just as easily been an infinite number of other answers. It is a fruitless effort to seek such truths. They are as real as dreams, and as empty as wishes. Yet, despite the hollow aspects of such postulations, there are ways to answer them...incorrectly. Though we may never really understand who we are, we can certainly make ourselves something we are not. In fact...it happens almost constantly. As naturally as breathing, the living and dead alike seem to share a knack for existing as a lie. It is so easy for any consciousness, regardless of pulse, to travel down an unsuitable path. We are so eager to make decisions that we feel are right, justified, or simply necessary.

In the end our choices do nothing to change our circumstances, merely our role in them. We change our appearance to be accepted or popular, but remain the same personality in everyone's eyes. We change our occupation to find fulfillment or joy in our labors, only to continue tediously working as we did before. Some even dare to venture further, and change their heritage and blood. To deny their past, and start fresh...believing that they might change if they simply deny what events lead to their current predicament. A new family cannot alter the upbringing already received. New identity is insubstantial when we find ourselves alone. Even...even if we find a way to alter our very soul; we still only change the name of our problems, rather than the problems themselves. To this end, one spirit endeavors to show others the errors of their misconceptions. To instruct those who imagine a world at their fingertips, that they could not be further from control. The irony being, that this individual is no more knowledgeable of the truths of "why" than anyone he might try and educate. Worse still, he is too blind to notice such a blatant truth. Yet more unfortunate is the fellow spirit he would involve in his pursuits. A Shinigami of only recent notoriety, even more so than himself. A creature most rare, given her willingness to undergo the most dangerous of transformation. A subject who rewrote her very soul...

"Riff-Raff! I order you to come out of hiding! Riff-Raff! Do not make me wait. Do not force me to use Bait." Practically talking to himself, a lone Shinigami wandered about. The soul seemed hurried in his pace, and irritated in his tone. Without escort or introduction, he traipsed about the grounds. "Where could that defect be...why aren't the pheromones working." Had his solitary conversation not been awkward enough, now he was questioning himself openly. A spectacle to be sure, especially among this Division. They must not be used to such eccentric types. Well...not ones of his particular variety. Then again, there was nothing about Mika that they should be accustomed to. "Damn you, you fraternizing, floral fink!" The voice that was causing this minor ruckus belonged to quite the oddity of style. While it was clear that he belonged in the Seireitei, it seemed he took his place in the Gotei 13 as privileged.

Dressing his body with the typical black Shihakushō, the material seemed to dangle off of him like a loosely draped bed sheet. Beneath, like the typical white kosode, but it too drooped very unfittingly. It was as if the entire uniform were for someone of several sizes grander. Ah, but the differences did not cease there. For over his body and Shihakushō, a thick white Haōri was crapped. At only the briefest of glances it appeared Captain-ly in nature, but even a moment of close inspection would reveal the truth. With none of the finery or insignias to adorn it, the coat was clearly meant for something other purpose. The identity of the apparel was actually quite clear in it's design. Having thick stitching, an unwoven or interrupted surface, and deep pockets...it was clearly a lab coat. A heavy duty, well treated length of linen for use in the more filthy areas of the SRDI. Surely even the warmongers of the 11th Squad would understand such a symbolic attire? If not...uuuhg, would it be a hard day. Beyond the unusual jacket and fitting of his clothes, the rest seemed normal. Just as with normal SRDI, he wore fully covered shoes instead of sandals. There were gloves dangling from one of his pockets, so his one exposed hand remained bare.

But, if honesty is the aim, none of his clothing would attract any real attention. Instead, the main intrigue would focus on his skin...and the way it was hidden. From the frail chest beneath his robes, up to the pivoting head which guided him along. Every visible inch of him was painted, caked, with an evenly spread foundation of ashen powder. Makeup, to those who recognize the "beautician's clay". For whatever possible reason...this whacko had covered himself in the darkening minerals, shifting his skin to a blackened tone. The only break in the saturated shade of graphite, were white horizontal lines stretched across his face. Thin, less than the width of a finger, they divided his face six equal times. These were the only real edges to the base layer, as the darker color continued all the way to his scalp. A mess of brown hair and split ends lay at the peak of this spirit's head, buzzed short an unstyled. Yet...if one were to look veeeery close, they might swear to see spine similar to a sea cucumber...mixed in with the stiffened locks. Hmmm, but no one would get close enough to confirm such observation, Mika was sure. "I'll eat him this time...I'll eat that mutant muscipula."

The Squad 11 barracks. The vast complex to which the name was given, a cadre of open courtyards and battered training grounds. There was very little "facility" to it. Districts were dedicated to the Combat Division and the space need to train able bodied recruits. Despite all the space taken up by this battalion, there was never anything interesting to see. Not unless one's hobbies included exercise, self injury, or the admiration of sweaty, musclebound, Shinigami meatheads. Just thinking those words in such an arrangement made his brain quiver. Mika had many places of disinterest or outright hatred, but this particular arena stood out. Maybe it was easy to blame his feelings on his tooth, or school experiences? Having been a book worm all his life, there was little to entertain him in the arts of war and armed combat. In addition, there wasn't a single library! Were that not enough, half of the bullies he had in the Academy had graduated into the 11th Division. So no, this was not the sort of environment for the scientist. Not. At. All. Yet, he found himself here today.

The trespassing was unavoidable, as he came with purpose. One of his plants was missing, and given which it was, he was inspecting the most likely hiding spots. The records would show nothing, as this was done on his own time. So, seeing as it would be a waste otherwise...he had to make every second he didn't find Riff-Raff worthwhile. This started with observation. Maybe there was something to learn within these noisy palisades. Most likely not. Perhaps though, he could procure something of measurable value. Something to make his investment of time well worth it. He had to wonder though, what made these soldiers choose this Squad? This life? Why would anyone willingly place themselves in harms way? Physical strength? Spiritual enlightenment? Social glory? Or were some of them as enthusiastic about pain as the he? Mika was under the impression, one cultivated through bias and disinterest, that Squad 11 was home to an army of clones. Not clones in the fun sense of genetically identical entities, all systematically and cooperatively speeding towards the same goal. Not even the more fun version of clones which fight to very bloody deaths over who is the “true” originator. No, these sorts of clones were nothing more than mindless dregs, at least in Mika’s mind.

Each of them spoon fed creeds, oaths, and battle maneuvers until there was no room left in their brain for individualism. Hypocritically, it was a simple image he cultivated...one lacking in it's own unique identity. He was merely playing the role of bigot. Content with the idea, rather than eager to correct or expand it. But maybe, such content behavior was as much a blessing as it was downfall? For it gave him confidence to throw an address at one of the nearer members wandering about as he had been. Unknowing of the person's name, or significance in the squad, the researcher addressed them as best he could manage. "You there...female. Have you by chance seen a particularly unattractive Dionaea Muscipula about? I suspect he would be nesting his roots near the largest supply of pesky, diptera you have on premises. Perhaps you could point me towards your feeding halls?" Glancing about himself with narrowed, brown eyes; making his inspection of the immediate courtyard quite obvious. "I believe I have already eliminated the latrines as possible sanctuaries." As one might expect, his speech was hurried and daring insensitivity. There wasn't even time made for a proper introduction. No surprise there. Knowing each other's names would not bring them any closer to solving the problem at hand. There was something loose in the Squad 11 facilities, and it belonged to this...person.

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru Kuchiki was walking around her new squad's barracks. She had a little bit of a break from missions and, based off what Itami had told her, she was making sure she spent more time with her squad. She was also Third Seat now, so she needed to bond with her squad so if she went on missions with them, she would be able to direct them better. It was also nice to meet her squad. This squad is completely different from Squad One. And she liked it that way.

While she was wandering around, she thought she had heard a voice. She followed the voice and then she found the shinigami attached to the voice. It was someone that she had never met before. He was wearing the usual shinigami uniform. Though, he was wearing a white jacket over this uniform. She immediately thought Captain, but when he turned around, there was no number insignia on it, so he was not a Captain. The next thing she thought of would be scientist.

After that, she assumed that this must be one of the many scientists in the squad next door to this one, Squad Twelve. It was weird to see them coming into their squad barracks, but she knows first hand that some scientists just do whatever they want, not caring about the norms. It seemed to her that this one was no different than some of the other ones that she's met, especially the Captain of that division.

He was yelling pretty loudly. While she was walking closer to him, it seemed like he actually noticed her. Before she could say anything, he yelled in her direction calling her female. He asked if she had seen something with a name she had never heard before and honestly didn't know what in the hell he was talking about. He started talking more gibberish and the only part she got was feeding halls. She assumed he meant their cafeteria.

Then, he added that the latrines he has already marked off as not a hiding place. So, he was looking for a pet. Interesting sounding pet. Just from the name, she assumed that he must have genetically engineered this pet and it got loose. She hoped that it wasn't deadly, or at least too deadly that the shinigami can't hold their own against it. "Um.....okay, if you want to follow me, I'll lead you to the cafeteria." She didn't bother with introductions since he didn't. She was curious as to this newcomer, but would keep questions to herself unless he started.

[MrDoctorDo]

Out stretched a most delighted, yet disturbing, smile on the scientist's face. A grin which strung creases up each of his cheeks, an exposed all of his polished, yellowed teeth. Without thought he nodded to the suggest laid forth by his newest, militant confidant. Though the gesture was quite subdued, amounting to little more than a dip of his brow; the enthusiasm was electric. "By all means, lead the way." The reality was, that he loved Hotaru's answer. Actually loved. Well, as in the way that he might interpret such an emotion or sensation. See, he had hoped to not delay his endeavors by even a fraction of time. Millisecond being precious to his always tinkering thoughts. So when he was not greeted with: confusion, ignorance, distrust, disdain, or any discourse of any sort, he became utterly delighted. "This one...", he mused to himself, "This one is tolerable. How astounding." It was, by his bias, bewildering to find a soul so a quick to figure their place into the circumstances at hand.

This individual, regardless of thoughts or motives, was quick to realize that he was not a conflict to be challenged. The young woman was fast to decipher, he believed, that he would go on with his request with or without her. After all, nothing had barred his entrance into this area. Nothing he could not surmount, at least. Trying to hinder him now, be it with questions or confrontation, would do little to change things. Such splendid use of rationale and time, well, it sent chills through him. Chills normally found within the pill or pipe. An experience he could not have foreseen, but one he adored. So as the two began to walk, the females leading their course; Mika was quick to add her to memory. Tracing her with his brown eyes, narrowed orbs glistening with focus as they identified and cataloged every bit of her identity. Were he to ever return this forsaken threshold, he would want to have such information. If ever his travels brought him back through these halls, he would seek out the soul attached to his acquired details. Eagerly, he would seek her out if he ever again need assistance within this region...possibly even beyond. Hmm, but only if she proved competent past the initial gold star. Ah, but such an impression had been made, that the scientist was indulging in a guilty habit. Already he assumed her more than up to his challenge of critiques. For the sake of certainty, let's see how she fared.

First came the physical ensemble that composed his guide. Inspecting such required a meticulous eye, and would involve every aspect of her material substance. The way she looked. The way she dressed. The effects she had on the senses. The thoughts her mere presence inspired. From the anatomy, to the gravity...everything came under an unseen microscope. There was the value of her shape and size, both quite acceptable. Not only did she stand taller than the average of her classification, she did so with posture and power. From the curve of her back, to the parsing of her shoulders. She was both naturally attuned to physical superiority, and trained to harness the opportunities presented by the genome. Not only did her height rival that of his, a male, but her weight exceeded his at a glance. Normally such would be unacceptable, but just like himself, she was exceptional. The weight did not rest on her as excess. Rather, it formed and weaved itself into the powerful arrays of muscles and tendons which gave her stride structure and body strength.

It was quite evident in each of her movements, even when relaxed in her jaunt, she seem taught like a wildcat. It gave her a slightly deceptive quality, force made facade by a pretty face and passive attitude. Outstanding! Ah, but muscle isn't all there is of a physique. There was also the ever important architecture of her bones, their shape and synergy. Oh, and there was no worries here. As advantageous as the shoulders were, so were the hips and knees. While the leg's joints were neither knocked or knobbed, they were rigid. So, not too flexible eh? Interesting. A stout fight, rather than a showboating acrobat. That was commendable in infrequency. Perhaps she had ways to subvert the standard, and still succeed? Now he had another curiosity of her! That aside, there was the topic of her waist and hips. Not too broad, certainly no children yet. Not that it would be a problem for her when that time comes, it simply hasn't yet. Not noticeably, anyways. Huh...thinking about how intently he was studying all of these qualities raises a new question. What would this look like from an outside perspective?

The answer is disappointing. The painted Poindexter looked on with obvious intent, eyes unfaltering in their gaze. Quickly and wrongfully mistaken as perversion. How could it be helped, though? A man unable to take his eyes off a lady, and clearly perplexed with deep contemplation; what thoughts could possibly be occurring? Maybe it helped that he didn't glue himself by her side, and that only his focus remained attached. Maybe, but not likely. He still looked very strange with his immense interest. Yet, unlike the interest possibly expressed by others, his was uniquely lacking in shame. Seriously, there was no embarrassment to be found. The act was not the same on his mind as it might be perceived in others. In no way was he bothered or troubled over her possible discomfort amid the surveyance. As the two of them walked, and he evaluated, the researcher's right armed emerged from his heavy clothes. Slipping from the inside of his kosode, the unsleeved arm brought forth a long, cylindrical stretch of metal.

Bronze in color, the tube quickly glinted like firelight at any contact to any light. In ways that Hotaru might enjoy, though Mika could not know, the metal gleamed in varying shades of red and green. The colors casted off it seemed to change with the angle it was held, creating an ever cascading flow of color. Beneath the light was something not unworthy of the title of art. Where the pipe's grip ought to be held, tiny pores littered it. Giving ridges for a firm grasp to claim. Most interestingly was the end of the tool, where a strange formation of metal took the form of a bound humanoid. The depiction is rather abstract, and lacks careful detail or individuality, but is still very much human. In addition, the figure seems restrained with it's arms at the sides, and it's body melding with the pipe starting at the abdomen. The head of the little man looked straight forward, as if the guiding figurehead of some mighty ship. It was here that the fellow Shinigami lit a flame, only after propping the pipe in his clenched teeth. Trapping the steel, his upper teeth biting down on it's bit and his bottom lip as well. In many ways he looked like a mouse, bucktoothed and gritting a pipe under his exaggerated overbite. With a single breath, the loaded pipe seemed to erupt. In moments, wisps of fruity smoke streamed past his strutting figure. The smoke would tickle her to breath, assuming she allowed him to stay near. It would only tickle, and hopefully, would smell rather pleasant and sweet. "You seem familiar.", he spoke with a heave of silvery some as his breath. "That especially."

Were she to turn, he would be pointing towards her arm. Thanks to her preference to the more liberating, sleeveless Shihakushō; Mika could see the curving figure of her inked skin. A dragon, fierce and posed, coiling on the upper end of her limb. Since his dissection began, he made swift not of it's existence. Only after qualifying and quantifying her other features, his eyes stopped on the design. It gave him trouble. Am most immediately. It was not often he could recall such a thing or design, but not the person on whom it was permanently affixed. This was one of those unfortunate times, when he had no clue who he was with...despite having met them before. Well, that, or god damn Deja Vu. "You...recently visited Squad 12's Applied Sciences Division." Reaching to rub his chin, the Soul Reaper made quite the effort to scratch up his recollection. Funny enough, his efforts did not ruin the makeup on either his hand or jawline. "Something. What were you there for...", he seemed to say without her input. "Something new, still being tested." Perhaps her voice would spark his memory. The tattoo alone would not be enough. Hell, Hotaru could come clean about her recent visit herself. Better yet, she could ignore him or deny everything. Nevertheless, answers would find him. "Wait...you're the new Kuchiki. The Reiatsu transplant!" Said with another wicked smile; smoke creeping down his slacked jaw. "That explains the familiarity. What a relief."

What the scientist referenced, was something unspoken. It was the favor he showed towards her from the first words she spoke. It was something that had it's roots long before she won him over with her compliance. Since he first heard that a full transfusion of Reiatsu was going to be undertook, his interest in the subject had grown. The idea of replacing one's life giving spark, with that of another, was too fascinating. Not only had the theories used in the procedure been the centerpiece to a few papers back in his academy days, it had been something he got to witness first hand. The process was quite marvelous in both it's undertaking, and results. Just as remarkable was the individual who willingly chose to receive such a treatment. A soul capable of altering their soul, permanently. Even with the thought that it might be reversible, Mika could not help but ponder. Who would so peacefully accept the rewriting of their soul? What might motivate someone to undergo such a dramatic change? What rewards or ransoms could they have expected or been promised, to ease the decision?

Till now these questions were nothing more than a list of intrigues he might never fulfill. Now...now he actually had the patient herself, here and completely vocal. Maybe there was a way to coerce the information he desired from hiding? "I had wondered who it was that underwent the treatment. Who you were. All I ever saw was that marking." The hand which pointed to her tattoo, bobbing and gesturing towards it some more. That rather obvious art, the trigger for his recall. "I even puzzled why the Kuchiki household would fit the costs, and accept the responsibilities." Taking on a new family member, after all, was no trivial affair. "Now that I've seen your face and figure, I have a more stable theory. Still..." Though he continued to walk, hopefully still following her direction, it did not seem to impede his train of thought. Nor did that train of thought ever seem to derail itself with embarrassment or courtesy to privacy. "I'd like to know why you choose to go through with it. I'd like to know that...and are we there yeeet?" A wee bit of childishness broke through in the last few words. Seems he was eager to find that dining facility!

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru watched as a smile crept across his face as he said lead the way. She turned and started walking towards the cafeteria. This scientist was definitely out there. She felt him following her. She was kinda surprised that he wasn't walking right next to her, but to each their own. Scientists, in her opinion, were a little off anyway. This one even more so. She also started to wonder what this 'pet' of his actually looks like. She started to imagine it in her mind.

She started to think that maybe it was like a human pet dog, but then when it opened its mouth, all the teeth were sharp, canine teeth and it would attack all newcomers. Then, she thought that maybe he was able to engineer some sort of mythical creature into life, like a griffin. Wouldn't that be amazing? To have a griffin as a pet. You could fly on its back and then let it rip into people on the ground as well. It would be such a sight to behold.

She then started to think having a dragon like that would work too. But, right when she was thinking about a dragon as a pet, she heard the tsking in her head. She knew better. A dragon as a pet? You are a silly one my young one. Dragons would not be pets. They would be companions to the people they choose to be around. Dragons are very picky that way. Besides, why would you need any weird pets? My companionship outweighs all of that! She could feel him smiling at that. You're right my sage. I'm sorry I even entertained the idea. Please forgive me. I will forgive you this time. He chuckled a little after that.

The next thing she felt was like someone was watching her. She quickly looked around to see if it was anyone else besides the scientist behind her. She didn't see anyone else watching them, but there could always be someone in the shadows. She then took a quick glance behind her, hopefully fast enough to where this guy wouldn't notice. Once she did, she saw that he was completely focused on her. COMPLETELY. She started to blush once she faced the front again. He was just staring at her. She knows that she looks good, but jeez, the guy wasn't even trying to hide it.

After about two or three minutes, he started to walk up with her. She thought that he looked odd the first time she met him, but now that she gets a closer look, he definitely seemed out there. He was wearing some kind of make up, over his entire face. It had no discernible design to her, it was just odd. But, she assumed he had a reason to do it. The next thing he did was pull out some kind of metal tube from his jacket. She noticed that he had the same type of make up on his limbs too. Just why did he do that?

The metal tube was casting off all kinds of colors, which she really liked. It was a fascinating thing. Then, she noticed the weird thing sticking out from the end of it. It looked like a person was getting melded into the metal tube. Before she could really inspect it further, he lit it and some kind of smoke started to come out of it. The smell was rather fruity, a very interesting smell for smoke. So, he was a smoker and maybe even doing drugs, based off the smoke. She was around in Japan, she knew drugs. She never dabbled with them, but she's seen the people who have and it wasn't pretty. Maybe that's why he was wearing the make up....

He then said that she looked familiar to him. Before she said anything, he pointed to her tattoo. She looked down at it and it was a pretty unique thing on her. She really liked it. He kept pointing to it though, and gesturing. She thought that maybe he had seen her tattoo before and was trying to figure out where he had seen it. It had to look odd from other people's perspective. She was walking with a guy smoking, wearing make up and gesturing towards her arm. She bet it was a sight to behold.

He then said that she had recently visited the applied science division of Twelfth Squad and that she was there for something new and untested. She saw it click in his head on his face, and he then said that she was the new Kuchiki because of the reiatsu transplant. He then said what a relief that he was able to remember where he saw her from. She was surprised. She had no idea if he was actually there, or if it was now common knowledge around Soul Society how she became a Kuchiki.

But, come to think of it, she had only really met the captain of the squad and maybe one or two of the aides. She didn't really know who all was there, besides Sozen-sama and the captain. Maybe they had a viewing area during the whole ordeal. And, she had never really asked about it. She will have to do that now, since he knew about what she went through. She was pretty sure, based off what Sozen-sama had told her, that not many people actually know how she became a Kuchiki and what her real purpose was. 

He then was talking to her, saying that he wondered who underwent such a treatment and why the Kuchikis would pay for the costs and take responsibility for her. She had some ideas about it, from Sozen-sama, and she wasn't going to push her new Head about a lot of her other details. He was scary strong and she didn't want to anger him for really no reason. He continued talking, saying know that he's seen her figure and face he has a theory, but he wanted to know why she went through with it and then if they were there yet. She thought to herself that he was pretty much a man child, since he added that part at the end. This man is definitely interesting.

She walked in silence for a few seconds before she decided to answer. "First, could you blow the smoke from that metal tube the other way? I don't like all the smoke hitting me in the face. Now, for you question, I don't think it would do any harm to tell you why I did it. I wanted more power, more strength. I have trained as much as I thought I could. Then, during a stroll, I ran into a huge monster I couldn't defeat. After I barely got away with my life, I went to the squad wanting to become more powerful. I figured the squad could help me gain strength in ways I couldn't do by myself. Before I went in, I had no idea what was going to get done to me, I just told them that I wanted to get strong by any means necessary. When I awoke from the procedure, Sozen-sama was there and told me I was now a part of his family and he took me from there. Were you actually there? I don't remember meeting anyone like you before I went under.


"As for if we're there yet, we just arrived." She stopped and assumed that this scientist stopped with her. It was a fairly large building. Even from here, with the doors open, she could see all the tables in there, ready for people to sit down and eat. She quickly walked him inside the building. There was nothing too spectacular about this place. There were many tables around, with a buffet-like line, with heaters for the food that would get prepared in the kitchen in the back of the building. She stopped when they hit about the middle of the building. "Alright Mr. Scientist, here's the cafeteria. Go crazy and find your pet. Do you need help finding it at all?"

[MrDoctorDo]

For the first time since the two began their walk, the doctor took his eyes off the adoptee. Locked within the memory banks of his brain, was every number and detail of her: figure, motions, and responsiveness. From the confident stride that did not falter, even under the stress of sexual, social awkwardness; to the repulsion she felt towards the inhalation of smoke. Even when said smoke was scented and flavored with a tasteful bouquet of fruity sweetness. “Whatever, not everyone appreciates fine attention to flavour or possible opiate-tobacco hybridization.” All of this information would be used later. Somehow. Most likely to locate the individual in the future. Or maybe blackmail. Or maybe to recreate her in the event that she is lost tragically in one of the Gotei’s frequent, and costly military engagements. After all…Mika was just starting to tolerate this one.

It would be a shame to lose one of the handful of individuals that did not make him want him expectorate the contents of his stomach, or cause his nerves to wiggle and crawl. Now, back to the new focus of his attention and possible vomit induction. Looking all about the room, his dulled brown eyes seeming lifeless as he gazed at the emptiness. “Dissatisfactory.” The only word that came to mind. For a moment, he almost wished one of the normal neanderthals were here, at least to break up the monotony of an empty cafeteria. And just why did this place not smell like food, either fresh or spoiled?! What sort of sensory whiteout was this place. Like a nerve block...for the brain and all it’s possible curiosities. With an all too sudden groan, the scientist looked back to his tour guide.

For the first moment, he said nothing, he seemed to just stare at her as if trying to confirm something. In reality, he was trying to confirm that they were indeed still functioning within reality. That he had not, in fact, slipped off into some sort of daymarish hell. After a second or so of eyeing her down, the pipe in his lips issuing forth no new founts of smoke, life suddenly returned. With a subtle flick, he freed his hand from the sleeve of his white lab coat, raising up the blackened limb to grip the bronze pipe held exclusively by his gritted teeth and lips. Rather than continue to smoke and savour his favorite pass time, Mika began a long and hardy drag. The little ember burning within the mouth of the figurehead, now glew like the brilliant tenders of hell. All the smoke ceased, none of it able to escape this immense draw of breath. While this might be a comfort for her...easily irritated personal bubble, it was in no way devoid of strangeness.

For a moment, while he drew in the contents of the pipe, there came a faint sound of a groan. It was if a third party had drawn in a harsh, painful breath...perhaps against their will. The sound was soft however, as though made in the distance. Yet, no one occupied this cafeteria with them. No one seemed visibly to blame. Worse still, when Mika finished his drag, the sound vanished as though it never existed. With the fading noise, so did the light in his pipe. Soon, the smoke which hung about them like a haze was gone. No trace of it’s presence, other than the citrusy scent left behind in their clothes. Taking a step past Hotaru, Mika seemed in his own world of thought once more. Quickly, he moved to the nearest table.

Before questions could be raised about what he was doing, the side of the metal smoking pipe clanged in the open air of the empty hall. Out from the “mouth” of the pipe, a thick accumulation of burnt ashes and dried remnants of herbs spilled to the floor. Were it noticed before, it might be now. The hand which clutched the smoking pipe was very strict, and firm. The grip was sure, nothing like before. Nothing like the subtle fumbling he did with the pipe. Now he was more sure, in body as with mind! By now, Hotaru had managed to inquire about his need of assistance, to which…”Your assistance?” Turning now, slow but with a certain thrill in his stance; Mika looked back to her with that same happy grin from before. The creases in his cheeks being made deeper this second time around, ”I’d ecstatically accept. I would even venture as far as to lie, and say I couldn’t succeed without you.”

By now, the smile was subsiding, and the usual blank expression creeped back. Reaching up with his still freed arm, he pointed with the long pipe like it were composer’s baton. Issuing her attention to another far side of the room. ”I imagine the kitchen would be through there?” Where he pointed to was indeed an opening along one side of the hall. It was one of a few, but this one was draped with the usual noren banner. Cloth curtains that signifies either entry or division of function. The latter in this case, letting people know where their food was coming from. In there would be the tools to his hunt's success. Strutting past her, his white jacket billowing with the sudden rush of his pace. Making his way to the curtain with a confident stride.

"Ah-HA!", the frailer Shinigami announced as he flung himself through the doren. It was a dramatic entrance, hands clapped together like a wedge, to slice through the curtain's slit and fling it wide open! Were there anyone to see his entrance, they would note the excess of enthusiasm brimming from the rather mischievous simper painted beneath his black makeup. "A kitchen, yes. The Layman's Laboratory." In just the first few moments, the eccentric would have himself familiarized with his surroundings. Moving through the environment though it were his natural state. So, the layout of the would-be workplace. A large polygonal room, with an angle off to the right of the entrance that prevented the perimeter from being a perfect rectangle. A senseless, and asymmetric, addition that the scientist would have to ignore as best he could.

As for what lay in the shape of the walls, first were counters raised on stone, and topped with marble. Ancient, but effective and lacking any reason for modernization. Like most things in the Seireitei, traditional was better. Some nonsense about discipline and labor, and how hard work might reinforce them. Yes, that was likely the reason for many lacking developments in the common, day to day arrangements. Still, navigation was made easy. In hollowed cubbies within the long island like countertop, there were placed pots, utensils, and other sorts of saucers and serving dishes. Strung above the long slab were: airing vegetables, fruits, herbs, and such amenities that might be chopped and sliced on the marble below.

"Good, good." Mika mumbled, moving the great distance needed to get around this first attraction. Beyond it were the pits, and further still were the ovens. The pits were open coal and firewood mounds, placed within the hewed floor. Large portions of meat could be prepared with those arrangements. Now, the ovens in the back could be used for baking. Or they could be used as grills. To the left, opposite the asymmetrical extension, was the tank. A large glass aquarium filled to the brim with the various water based delicacies. Along the primary wall was a descending stone stairwell, open and shallow, that no doubt went to a storage area. Or fridge. It would seem there was even an internal well, complete with water pump. Arranged beneath it was a raised barricade of stone, to prevent excess water from trickling out to the rest of the work areas.

Stacked within that barricade were various dishes and tools dirtied from the last great meal. Pointing immediately at some of the food tainted cooking pots, the really big ones, "Those. The larger pots. We'll need six or eight of those. Filled with water too." Already his voice was changing, an anticipation that had not be expressed before. Well, maybe a glimpse had come when he betrayed his growing impatience. The reality was, he loved the idea of working in a kitchen, and it drew something youthful out of the otherwise cold, and unamused soul. "Also..." Moving himself to the side, gesturing back to the large pits filling the centerish portion of the room. "You will need to fetch tender. Get it lit, and get it hot. Burning hot."

As he said this, he began moving rather peculiarly. Mmm, then again, he had sorta been behaving that way the whole time! Still, something about his body maneuver was abnormal. It was clear right away what he was trying to do; just get his sleeves up and out of the way. The way he did this was unique. Putting away his "directing pipe", the scientist then rolled his wrist and gripped a cord that was stitched into his sleeve edge. In a trained maneuver, and with the one hand, he tossed the cord over his shoulder, then reached beneath his own arm to grip the dangling node. With a sudden jerk, and a simultaneous extension of his arm, the sleeve contracted and pulled high up onto his arm. The flesh revealed was quite scrawny, and as far as could be seen, covered with the same pitchy makeup as the rest of him. Damn that commitment, eh? So why the awkward movement to achieve this goal? Was the spectacle too much to pass up? Did he just enjoy challenges? Technically yes to both, and more.

See...Mika was not so gifted as most souls. Not handsome like the nobles, or strong like the Captains. Instead, he was blighted with the absence of such gifts, as well as his left arm. That is right, Mika was a one-armed cripple. As he began repeating the sleeve hiking process on his left sleeve, them slumped fabric coiled and bunched up to reveal nothing. Instead he had just knotted it off, so that it wouldn't dangle into his work. Considering the circumstances, why not always leave it up? Well there is an answer for that. Heh, and it wasn't an issue of symmetry. No matter, no matter. The thick of it was explained. Missing an arm, sure, but no less capable. Although a whole helluva lot less handy. "I'll get the water, you hurry with the fire." Moseying over to the water supply, putting much distance between himself and the soon to be open flames, "I'm called Mika. It helps to know the proper name to scream, in case something goes awry. Stepping past the water pump and toward the rooms edges, he began opening heavy wooden blinds. With a thick glow of light pouring in, and soon a fresh burst of air, it was clear he was preparing this room's ventilation. Why he might do this? The truth came with another menacing grin from the mousey faced boy. "Don't mind the smoke."

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru introduced her scientist guest to the cafeteria. She could tell from the way he was looking around this pretty empty place that he didn't like it. She didn't know what he was expecting, it was just a cafeteria. This place is just for going in, eating food to recharge your body, then leaving on missions and the like. But, maybe he thinks that everything should be super modern and that robots should do everything. Though, honestly, that would be kinda interesting...

As she stood there and asked him if he needed help, she noticed that he started to fiddle with that metal tube. He took one last drag from it and she heard this groaning sound. She looked to the scientist and he was still dragging from the tube, so it couldn't be him groaning. And, of course, she wasn't doing it either. Just where was this groaning coming from? Maybe the tube let out some kind of noise that affects this guy's pet.

Once he was done with that, the groaning completely stopped. The light from his tube also ended, as well as the smoke emanating from it. Before she could say anything, he moved to a nearby table and emptied his tube's contents out onto the floor. She thought that scientists were pretty much all fairly clean, to keep their work spaces tidy. Obviously, either he wasn't a clean freak or he just didn't care to get her squad's area dirty. It was a little annoying to say the least.

While he was fiddling with his metal tube, she noticed that his make up seemed to be everywhere. Why in the hell would someone put make up all over their body? She knew of the geisha, who painted up their faces, but that was more for their job and duty. She was pretty sure that this man didn't have a job like that. Maybe he used it to cover up something on his body, scars maybe?

Then, it seemed like he finally registered what she said. He then said that he would gladly accept her help. He then turned around and looked at her with the same grin that she found on his face when they first ran into each other. This man was certainly odd. But, it was rather refreshing to meet an odd person like this. It was a nice change of pace for her, so she wasn't cooped up all day in the squad doing boring stuff.

He then asked if the kitchen was through one of the holes in the walls. Before she could even answer him, he started walking off in the direction he pointed. She followed behind him, making sure that he wasn't going to try to blow up anything. Next, he did one of the weirdest things that she's seen. He put his hands together and put them between the curtains. He yelled out AH-HA!, moved his hands out and parted the curtains. Then, walked through them. She had never seen someone part a curtain with that much drama.

She was looking at him a little oddly while she parted the curtains like a normal person. He then called the kitchen a layman's laboratory. Which, once she thought about it, was partially true. When someone came into a kitchen, if they were really good cooks, could meld seemingly normal things together, using heat, and make something that tasted wonderful. She would probably not think of this kitchen the same now that he said something about it.

She then watched him as he took in the entire kitchen. She pretty much stood in the corner, letting him wander all around the kitchen for himself. He seemed to take in every centimeter of this place. She had no idea why he was so intent on this room when he was looking for his supposed pet. But now that she was thinking about it, this guy could've been lying through his teeth and not looking for a pet at all.

Then, she heard him say something that snapped her out of her thoughts. He pointed towards some really big pots in the sink, saying that they would need six or eight of them filled with water. Was he actually trying to order her to do something? Before she could even really move or do anything, he then pointed towards the pits, saying that she would need to fetch tender, get it lit and get it hot.

She was just staring at him now. What the hell was he planning on doing? While she was staring, he said he would handle the water while she was to take care of the fire. She then saw the weirdest thing. He was able to draw up his sleeve with some kind of cord. But the way he did it.....was so freaking flamboyant, she assumed that this man lived for the flamboyance. He did the same with his other sleeve and just noticed that he was missing his left arm.

It must have been a hard life for him, missing a limb. But, obviously, he was very capable of doing everything that everyone else can do. It was an impressive feat but, now seeing him, she knew that he was more than likely able to do very impressive things as well. She walked outside, there was a door to the outside in the kitchen, and right next to said door was a pile of wood.

She grabbed a few pieces of wood and carried them back into the kitchen. She threw the wood into the pits and found some flint near the pit. She started to strike it and, within a few minutes, she got a fire going in the pit. She then looked over to see how the scientist was doing. He was pumping some water out. He finally said that his name was Mika. "My name is Hotaru Kuchiki, Third Seat in Squad Eleven. It is a pleasure to meet you Mika." She found a poker and kept the fire going while Mika opened the blinds and said don't mind the smoke. She rolled her eyes at that statement. This was going to be interesting...

[MrDoctorDo]

With a sudden stop, the wiry scientist aimed his glare over his shoulder. With yet another curious eye, he began to stare at the Eleventh Squadee. By now she had returned with the firewood, and should be drawing near the fire pits. The cause for his sudden glance? The reason behind the thin way his eyes cut while staring? Probably a need for glasses! No, no. In all seriousness, it was something else. Something that he found quite hilarious about the situation. Something she did not seem to catch. "Ho-Ta-Ru.", he said to himself...though loud and apparent enough for her to hear. "Hotaru." Looking at her now, his brown eyes seen a small voids through the burning gold sunlight which surrounded them. The smile on his face more mischievous now, the newer expression one of amusement. Amusement and anticipation. If a few moments passed before she noticed. If time went without her acknowledging his laugh, or the cause of it. "Of course you would be "Firefly"." , he gave out a few snickers to accompany his joke.

Turning back to the pots of the sink, but continuing to talk. "I expect you will make a most excellent fire. How could you not?" Still chuckling, though much more subdued, he went on about his work. The scrawny bookworm now hunching over the pile of pots. Scrounging through them, causing a clattering of metal on stone. For a time it seemed he talked to himself, and if observed, it would be clear he was looking carefully. For what was unclear, but it seemed he knew what he was on about. Pretty soon, if his endeavors remained under the watch of a scrutinizing eye, then he would be caught holding three strange strips of paper. They were all slightly yellow in color, a bit thicker than normal, but no doubt washi. Quickly the three strips were brought near his mouth, and each given a swift lick. Like the rest of him, even Mika's tongue seemed abnormal. Just a bit longer than normal. With a single motion it caught all three strips. Thereafter they were drawn away. Each of the pieces of washi soon found themselves deposited within a separate pot. Three rather large, and stinking ones which he had plucked from the heap. In them remained clear coatings of food or other refuse. Perhaps they were used for cooking that morning? Maybe they had laid here in disuse and filth for a few days? Between each of his placed papers, the scientist's eyes now lingered. With eyes widening as the milliseconds stretched on, the boy seemed to say things to himself difficult to hear...more difficult still to understand. "Actino...actino...actino...actino!" With a sudden, ah-hah, the young man pulled on pot away from the others. It was this pot that he placed first under the spigot. Raising up off his ankles, moving to grip the heavy handle.

There came a loud ratcheting sound, the tune of metal grating metal. Unfortunately, it was a very short and pitiful noise. Mika had given the level what strength he had, but it was large, and older, and would not yield to so small an opponent. Well, not with the first heave. Rather than groan or complain, the Shinigami tightened his hold. Squeezing till his knuckles turned white beneath the blacked paint that covered them. With a grit of his teeth and a deep gasp of his breath, he gave the faucet what for! A terrible grind erupted, most troublesome to the ears. And for his effort, and the spout's complaining, a single large flush of water. Hardly enough to fill the pot entirely. Barely enough to pool at the bottom, but...certainly enough to moisten the contents. Rather than seem dejected by this small victory, Mika knelt back down to the pot again. This time, fiddling with something from underneath his coat once more. Soon producing a small flask. It was dark, maybe glass, but tinted if so. Inside sloshed some form of liquid, and with a twist of the cap, it would be revealed.

Turning to look towards his counterpart, the male tipped the container and began to pour a milky brown substance into the pot. It smelled of paradox, both of cleanser and rot. While he carefully poured, he kept his attention to the contents. Ho-Ta-Ru. Hotaru Kuchiki. Hmmm...", his focus did not seem to silence him. "Mind the fires. Do not build them to high. I only want to boil water, not burn it." Though his tone seemed more monologue, lacking any crass or complaint, there was still a suggestion made in it. Not of of instruction,but of truth. The truth, that Mika did not like fire. That while he was far from the still growing flames...busy tending something else, he still had them on his mind. Still let them trouble him. It was not a difficult puzzle to piece together, if someone were mindful of such things. "Just prepare the same fire you would use for tea.", turning back to his pot for moment, before looking back to her. "You have prepared tea before, have you not?" The question came as more necessity than query. It seemed as though he already knew the answer he was to receive...or what it should be. Oh, but he kept talking, "I hope you have. That is a skill a young, noblewoman is expected to have." Fidgeting with his flash, he now put it back where it belonged. "In fact, there are a great many things a noblewoman is expected to do, or know. Things typically trained from birth. Things warriors are seldom taught." Though it was unmistakable that his comments could apply to her, he still spoke in general terms and incentives. "Especially a Kuchiki. They are the epitome of royalty, and the standard by which all lesser houses must compare and pursue. And now, you're one of them." Holding out his hand over the pot, there came a hum. From Mika's hand, the spectral light of stimulate Reiatsu. In time, his mysterious efforts made apparent.

From the pot, a bubbling noise began. It churned and curdled, as though something were trying to move and gasp for life. In time the sounds lost their chaos, and the frantic clamour subsided. Then, from the quieting pot, there came an oozing figure. One lacking details or anatomy, possessing only the slithering shape of a featureless limb. It rose and rose, slinking and flopping through the air. With it, Mika too began to rise. Back on his feet, hand still held above the serpentine mass. The Shinigami guided his hand to the right. The viscous limb followed. Brownish in color, it contrasted the brilliance of any light that struck it. A dark collection of, something, that seemed to heed the doctor's movements. Without a word it followed his insistence. When the Soul Reaper stretched one finger toward the faucet, it lurched out with immediate force. The stick content of it's body clung t the metal lever, adhering with no trouble. With this success, Mika split his clenched fingers to every direction. It was at this moment the his creation split itself into four more arms, each plastering against the sides of pots. From here, one might guess, Mika lifted not another pot or lever.

"You will have to learn...how to be a noble. The attitude. The etiquette. The responsibilities..." Mika spoke softly, through with certainty. "I do hope you have someone in mind to teach you such. I cannot imagine them needing another warrior in that family, no matter how potent." With an eyebrow raised alone, his face took on a quizzical expression. "I would imagine...that they want you for your gender." Nodding his head a bit, hand choosing to guide the ooze rather than gesture. "Perhaps you will be the bride to one of the lesser siblings, or a cousin perhaps?" Tilting his head now, he watched a particularly effective limb roll and trudge itself across the dusty stone. Atop that branch of the too, a pot balanced on it's way to a flame. "I would get my glories quickly. Take what victories in battle you can, before they ask you to wed. Or worse, ruin your warrior's physique with the ravages of maternity." Had she been pleasant enough to criticize or scold him for speaking his mind, then he would offer these words of advice. To him they were sound, and full of wisdom. She should strive for herself, before her new family finds something for her to strive for.

At his behest, his amoeba of a partner continued to writhe. It was growing slowly. It moved pots under the now gushing spigot; while also keeping the handle churning. It rolled and skittered across the floor, towing filled pots to the pits. Each arm even managed to raise their wares on up, hanging each above the fires. If no fire had been built, then they would take roost in anticipation. All the while, the maestro of this slimy orchestra would command and compose. Watching somewhat gleefully as his creation behaved splendidly. From his hand Reiatsu leaked, slightly noticeable. To him it felt like the strings of a puppet. Whenever his will or wonder might shift, the strings obeyed. "Power." The word came like an arrow, from nowhere and with piercing sharpness. "Power, I understand." Though his eyes looked towards her, it...was like he wasn't really looking at her. She simply occupied the space where his mind vanished into the horizon, into thought. "You wanted to be stronger. Whether to survive or to thrive, strong all the same. That I appreciate."

The clinking of placed pots began interrupting the silence of his work. "What I fail to understand...is why, of all things, you gave them your soul." Now his eyes seems to shift, to acknowledge what existence was before him. "What point is there in strength, what reason for survival...if the identity is lost?" Eyes falling to the amoeba, examining the large cluster of bacteria and life. "We don't get to stay ourselves, just by living. Breathing, eating, sh*ting-f*cking-sleeping...none of that makes us who we are." The amoeba shivered. Part of it had begun to clean a new pot, reaching inside to rake the refuse of the inner walls. In the gooey mass, the lifted remnants began to dissolve and disappear. The thing fed off the remains of old meals. Off the gathered flesh and innards of beast and plants alike. Life, exchanging from one existence to another. It was during this time of feast and cleaning, that Mika wandered over to the other pots that had been setup.

Once more, he reached beneath his coat and began to fidget with the contents. In time, the thin fingers produced a clutch of vials. Each one filled with some sort of liquid, thick in consistency and colorless. With skill, a practiced touch, he began removing the plugs from each vial with his teeth. Hmm, not particularly safe...but what ever is? Either way, the contents of each vial were spread across the water laden pots. In time they would heat up, and in time their contents would pollute the steam which rose from the water. Yet, Mika had no interest in explaining this portion of his work. There was so much more to speak of. Things which delighted and peaked the curiosity. Things he DIDN'T have the answer to already. After all, he knew what the vials were, and what they would do. What he lacked was knowledge he hoped to get from her.

In moments the mass of ooze began to retreat. The ends of the amoeba recoiled within themselves, as though drawn by an unseen force. "I do not care how strong I become. How well fed I might be." Collapsing and folding into itself, the entirety of the creation came back to it's maker."Knowing I owed it all, to someone else. That I was a puppet..." Now the words turned quite personal, but, his gaze was not set on her. Rather he continued to observe his own tool. Eyes growing dark in their contemplation. Mika's solitary hand reaching down into the large sink, hoisting up a single bar of soap. As he drew the large bar of lye and animal fat up to the pot now filling with water, the amoeba followed. With the water it pumped in itself, the creature had prepared a bath. Into the pot it went, showing no hesitation or restraint. All at the instruction of Mika, with his hovering hand. "I would never surrender any part of me, not for something so fleeting as strength."

In the pot there came a new bubbling and swirling. The contents mixing together, chemical reactions releasing oxygen and other trapped molecules and atoms. Without a ladle or spoon, he stirred the mixture using the life he had put into it. So violent was the splashing that what was inside nearly came out. In time though, despite Mika's moving hand, the water stopped roiling. Things had settled down, there was no strength left in the cauldron. "Why be lead to death by the hand?" Both the words, and his tone, had turned cold. Harsh even. Maybe his speech would seem intentionally critical? Once again, this was just the way he spoke. Nothing but the facts as he saw them, devoid of tenderness. "I would prefer to die; my enemy choking on me, and screaming my name in spite. Rather than die in someonelse's shadow." Taking hold of the hanging pot, freeing it from the spigot it had waited under, he dumped the contents into the sink. Bubbles and contents now poured into the drain. All of it quickly whisking away, down past the grate in the floor.

Nothing of the creation from before remained. The life had come and gone, all remnants lost. The pot which cradled the thing was now empty, clean. Spotless even. In fact...it was clean enough to eat out. And now, with that work finished, Mika took the final pot. Strutting over to the fire pits, cleaned basin in hand. "Not when we all become food in the end." As if to punctuate his sentence's end, the final pot dropped onto it's hook with an echoing clink. Having set the container over a pit, Mika turned his eyes back to her. Looking as though he might say more, but nothing being done. This would be the time where a normal person might apologize for speaking so freely. A kinder person might offer advice, sympathies? A caring person would care whether or not Hotaru had had such thoughts herself. If she had worried herself about what had been done...about what it might mean? Yet, he showed no such concerns. It simply wasn't his nature.

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru returned with the firewood, sat it down next to the pit and started to arrange the firewood in the pit to get a nice fire going. She looked up and noticed that Mika was just kind of staring at her again. She was curious as to why he was just staring at her like that. He seemed to squint his eyes at her while staring as well. Then, he just repeated her name very slowly, almost sounding it out. He started smiling with some kind of weird glee and she cocked her head towards him. He then said of course she would be called 'Firefly.' He snickered and she just got what he said. 

Since she was starting the fire and her name meant 'Firefly.' She heard him start to snicker and she had to give him credit. It was a pretty decent joke. She laughed a little as well. She then told him, "At least I'm not called 'Beautiful Smell.' I think that one is a little bit too weird." She then looked back towards her task and continued to build up her firewood in the pit to try to make a nice sized fire. He then said that he expected her to make an excellent fire, how could she not. She assumed because of the name, he was insinuating that she could make perfect fires. Well, he'll find out soon.

She went to go for the flint to actually start the fire when she noticed that Mika was doing something weird. He had grabbed some white strips of cloth from somewhere, she assumed in a pocket in his jacket and actually licked them. But, the way he did it was odd. It seemed like his entire tongue was able to lick all of those pieces of cloth together. She didn't think it was possible to have a tongue that wide to be able to do that. It also looked longer than a normal tongue. She stuck hers out and it definitely wasn't as long as his. It was an interesting feature on a man that just seemed off from regular people. Maybe that's what she enjoyed his company.

She was able to get the fire lit and was slowing blowing on it to get a good start on the fire. It was then that she heard Mika start to say some weird word over and over again. By the time he was done saying this word, he pulled the pot away from the others and tried to get the spigot to work. Sadly, he was having some problem with it. It looked pretty old and she guessed it was rusted. But, after a few more tries, he was able to get the water going. It wasn't a long stream, but it seemed like he didn't need a lot of water for what he was doing.

He then produced a flask from a jacket pocket and started to pour the milky brown substance into the pot. He poured and she smelled something so weird, she couldn't really describe what she was smelling and she didn't know what to think about the smell. He then heard him say her full name. At this point she got the fire going fairly well, so she grabbed a poker that was nearby and started to poke around the firewood, making sure that the fire had enough fuel to keep burning.

After he said her name, he told her to mind the fire, he wanted to boil water and not burn it. It's what she was doing, but he wasn't looking her way, so he didn't know what she was doing. She nodded in agreement. He then said to prepare the fire like she would use for tea and then asked if she had actually prepared tea before. She then knew the range he wanted and fixed the fire accordingly. Before she could answer him, he told her that he hopes she had because it was a skill that young noblewoman should know. In fact, there are a great many things a noblewoman is expected to do, or know. It was things typically trained from birth and that warriors are seldom taught. Especially a Kuchiki, since they are the epitome of royalty, and the standard by which all lesser houses must compare and pursue. 

He was giving her the hint that now that she was one of them, she needed to know all of those things. Before she could answer, she heard some weird bubbling noise coming from the pot he poured that weird milky brown substance into.  It was the weirdest sound that she's ever heard. After a few seconds, however, the noise disappeared. She thought that maybe whatever he was trying to do didn't work. It was then that she saw some ooze figure come out of the pot. 

Once it was completely out of the pot, it was an actual limb. Looked like an arm and Mika was controlling it with the hand he held over it. She assumed that his reiatsu was controlling it. It was a pretty impressive feat to see it. The limb then followed Mika's direction. He made it climb up to the sink where he had issues before. He split his fingers and now there were four limbs. She assumed that now, they would be doing all the work, leaving him free to do whatever else he wanted to do.

She added another piece of wood to the fire and turned it, giving the fire more fuel. He then told her that she would have to learn how to be a noble. The attitude, etiquette and responsibilities. He hoped she had someone in mind to teach her. He didn't think they needed another warrior as a part of their family. But, from what she thought about Sozen, it was one of the reasons he wanted her, to have another sword for to help with family affairs and business. But of course, he wouldn't know anything about that. 

He figured that the family wanted her for her gender. He then figured that she would be the bride to one of the lesser siblings, or a cousin. She actually paled when he said that. She knew that it happened in noble families, but she never thought that it could happen to her. She then noticed that one of the limbs roll along the floor, carrying a pot towards her fire. He suggested to get her glory quickly.  To take what victories in battle she could, before she was asked to wed. Or worse, ruin her warrior's physique with children.

She then prodded the fire more to make sure that the heat was correct for Mika. The spigot was now gushing water and the arm was now growing. It started to tote pots full of water to her fire. They were able to actually hold the pots over the fire. She could now start to see the reiatsu from Mika's hand towards the limbs. It was almost like puppetry. He moved the limbs and they did as he wanted with no stopping whatsoever. She kept the fire up to temperature while he was concentrating on the limbs.

He then said power. He seemed to be lost in thought. He continued by saying power, and that she wanted to be stronger whether to survive or thrive, strong all the same and he could appreciate that. What he didn't understand was why she gave them her soul. What was the point of strength, what reason for survival if her identity was lost? He said that we don't get to stay ourselves just by living, it doesn't make us who we are. She could tell that he was doing soul searching. It was either him trying to get her to think about or for himself, she had no idea.

She didn't want to make any extra noise and just watched, as he did, as his arms started to clean out the pots over the fire she kept up. It was then that she noticed that whatever those limbs were made out of were actually eating all the food that was left over in the pots. It was definitely handy and she just stared at them. She then noticed that Mika pulled out more vials from his coat. It seemed like he had no end to vials and weird mixtures in his jacket. But, he was a scientist, so it made sense to her.

She watched as he poured the contents of the vials over the water laden pots. Steam started to rise from the concoction and it looked like all the dirt was coming out through the steam. It was fascinating that he could do so much with science. He then continued his conversation. He doesn't care how strong he becomes or how well fed he might be, knowing he owed it all to someone else, being a puppet. She watched while the arms of ooze started to collapse in on themselves. Well, all but one. There was one left that was now by Mika, who was now by the sink.

It jumped in without hesitation into a pot filling with water and Mika was holding up some soap. He said that he would never surrender any part of himself for something as fleeting as strength. He started to stir the contents of that pot. The splashing inside the pot started to get very violent until it just stopped. He continued by saying why be lead to death by the hand. He wanted to die with his enemy choking on him and screaming his name in spite than die in someone else's shadow.

He then emptied the pot into the sink, letting it all drain away. The pot was completely clean and it was the last pot that was in the sink. He then took the pot and walked it over to the pit. She just noticed that they cleaned all the dishes from the sink. She could tell that there was a lot on his mind when he said that he wouldn't die like that when we're all just food in the end. After he said that, he set the container on its hook over the pit and looked into her eyes.

It seems that he wanted answers as to why she gave up so much for strength. "Well, since you're really curious about why I did it, I'll tell you. You say that I am just a puppet for this family, or more importantly, for Sozen-sama. That I gave him my very soul for power. I don't see it that way. I am still the person I was before this procedure. My zanpaktou is still the same and my ideals and morals are still the same. I have trained with Sozen-sama and even though I don't know all the details of what he needs me to do for my new family, I'll deal with it when it comes. I will not die in his shadow. I plan to die like I did when I was human, on the battlefield, taking out as many enemies as I can. I will still be me, no matter what Sozen-sama throws at me."

[MrDoctorDo]

Now it was unclear. Was Hotaru delusional, or stubborn, or did she perhaps have something unseen and unaccounted for? Some secret cunning or deception that had eluded his perception of her? Unlikely. Mika was quite perceptive. Or so he thou...knew. No, if there was some devious nature hidden beneath her subtle quips and self assuredness, the scientist was truly oblivious. What he notice; however, he commented on. "...", well not right away! It took time to process what she had professed. To take in her certainty, and dissect why and how it came to be. Also, to enjoy a moment of smiling happily at the turnabout he suffered. "Well, I don't know who you were before you became this...so who knows if you are different or mistaken or what." It seemed a bit of skepticism remained with the boy. The samurai should expect no less, scientists are often skeptics. Worse still was Mika's reasoning for questioning her lack of "strings". There were facts about his childhood and education which taught him all he needed to know. Taught him to understand the tendencies and pathologies of Nobles' Motives.

Still, there was a reason to grin. "I would add, as a footnote, that you are far more vocal when speaking for yourself." This, unconventional as it was, was indeed a compliment. It was short. Lacking charm or even feeling. In fact, it felt more like a lab note than a flattery. All the same, this was him acknowledging something of value within her. The fact that it was a blatant observation, just his method. The times that Hotaru had spoken, had been quick to rise in defense of her identity and choices. Such defensiveness would typically mean she agreed with the statements put forth by her compatriot. Unfortunately, Mika could not comment on this with certainty, as his field of study never wandered deeply into psychology. If there was any hope for their friendship as equals...peers...mutual Shinigami, then she would hear the meaning in the words. If not, ah well. Mika had plenty of childhood nemeses flexing about in Squad 11, one more couldn't possibly kill him. Not permanently, at least. So he did not dwell on her response. Nor did he wait to see if she heard his implication, that she should remain focused on the individuality she so quickly defended. Instead he moved back to his pot. The water in it was reaching a boil. Into it would flow a horde of ingredients, as quickly as one hand could crop, chop, and drop 'em.

Working with a water stained kitchen knife he brought from the sink, Mika made quick work to begin sectioning and severing all the needed components. It should be fairly simple to deduce his recipe, not many variations of food call for boiling water and ramen noodles. The combination of chives and spices basically screaming, "ramen's coming". Already he had garlic, shallots, and a rather hefty portion of ginger on the stone slab. Cutting them was a feat with only one hand, but as always, he seemed practiced enough. Once diced, they were pushed aside. Next came a sweep of the blade's blunt. Drug across the stone, the metal heaped the ginger bits into a pile of sesame seeds. The spices separated into their complementing categories. Were she any kind of a cook, she might catch this simple trick. Quickly he set to work with a nearby mortar, grinding and flattening the ginger into crushed seeds. What he did now was prepare the flavors for the brew, speaking of..."Chia. A 1/965770 chance, I would suppose."

Hotaru might speak to him, she might try to draw his attention, but the scientist would still wander down the carved table. Inspecting the herbs and spices collected either in jars or left out to dry. Looking for a particularly less common spice that he very much favored. Soon defeat would be his, but with the loss came a calculated victory. Freaking soybeans! Grabbing up a literal "mess" of these string beans, along with dashi miso, meant he had all he needed for the rest of his ramen. This would be a meatless variety, but hey, protein is in the sesame. So with a hurried pace, he meandered back to the pot. Into it the noodles were tossed. Beneath it, a freshly drawn skillet placed. Blocking the flames from directly hitting the pot, it would buy him time with the simmering noodles. Time he would use to saute the flavorings that would go in with it. In no time the delightful aroma of heated spices would rise. While they cooked to perfection, the last steps of the ramen were set in motion. Water drawn from the pot, and placed into two bowls. The heat from the water would warm the bowls, in preparation for the noodles to come. With the meal almost done, his eyes turned to the other pots and fires.

"The bait is working slow." That's what was in those other pots! Boiling mediums to disperse bait. Whatever the treat was, it was in the steam. Strange that no smell stuck out over the burning firewood, or the cooking..."Ramen should suffice as reward enough for your assistance.", said with a groaning belly, "I'm starving." Now there was a setup if anyone ever heard it. With the words coming off with a bit of derision, it was if he suggested her assistance was worth nothing more than a meal of stolen ingredients. It was too obvious a goading to be unintentional. Perhaps he wished her to ask for something else? Maybe he wanted to antagonize her temper, to determine it's existence or not. Recent words might hold more answers. Example; what would a puppet answer to such a statement? What would someone empowered by self worth say? To Mika there was no real expectation in place. At this point, he served his own ends far more than hers. Like he said, clearly, he was starving. Add to such a condition the necessity to"kill time", and you get a home cooked meal. Or one might hope...

Having removed the skillet from the embers, and brought forth a ladle; Mika made it clear it was time to eat. It was when the lab rat went to fetch the noodles from their bath, that a clamor began. It came from beyond the kitchen, sounding practically otherworldly. A sound that mixed a low, and unsettling growl with the sound that one would imagine bubbles escaping a heavy stew to make. It was altogether a wet, thick sounding grumble...possibly from a cat? A really, really, reallyreallyreally sick feline. Before Mika could react, his one hand clutching tight to the soup ladle, a beast would come running in from beyond. It was fast. Quick and agile like the species it mimicked; while larger and more bizarre. What came bursting into the kitchen was the stubborn Riff-Raff, plant and pet to the would be genius. And just what did this monster look like? Imagine a house cat, but a wee bit bigger. Now imagine very short fur, like peach fuzz it is so short, soft, and delicate. Now color the typical pinkish skin a hue of green, and make it barely visible beneath the dark tint of the "fur".

You should have a velvety looking black cat by now. Next, anatomy. The face and legs should look identical to any other feline. Nothing extra or warped. Almost nothing. Where the ears ought to have been, there were thick, folded...let's call them leaves. These appendages were waxy in appearance, and seemed to sit and twist the way normal ears would. Then there was the tail, so close to natural it was maddening(Mika Thought). Rather than just be covered with thin, velvet fuzz...the tail sported a few more properties not found elsewhere. The closer to the tip the eyes drew, they would notice how the coloration shifted from dark to completely white. As the tail extended, smaller tendrils ran off of it. Each of these tendrils the same design and look as the central stalk. What exactly were these phenotypes to describe? Why, roots of course! This being had roots for it's tail. If promoted, it could even bury them. Even collect nutrients through them. Hmm, still...this was not the oddest thing to be witnessed. There was the matter of strange ridges along the feline's back.

Protruding formations which lacked fuzz and seemed rather conical in shape. Albeit flattened like razored teeth, with immense elongation. These ridges were most out of place for a cat. So much so, that squinting eyes and a cheery case of denial could not refute their strangeness. If one were to watch these dorsal fixtures, long enough, they might receive an answer. RiffRaff was once a Venus Flytrap. The ridges on the cat's back, if observed closely, would be seen moving. Very carefully, not very far...more like the uneasy shivers of a spine frightened. Yet, when watched longer still, a soul might see something quite abnormal. Those ridges on Riff-Raff's back represent the "teeth" of the Flytrap he once was. Meaning, when it feels like it, Riff-Raff might split it's spine...and open it's back like a mouth. Inside the soft pink tissue that usually tantalizes flies to a quite slow death. Or so it would appear. The reality is that it's spine is never severed or separated. What opens up are muscle fibers and tendons, creating a straight shot to the stomach. As for the real nervous column, it is located on the underside. The belly. Careful when petting this Trapcat! Saldly, most of these details would go missed or unacknowledged. The reason? "Ahck!! Get off me d*mn it!"

With riled sounds of distress and excitement, Riffraff came tearing through the kitchen. In no time he turned over the pots which cooked his pheromone lure. Water fell onto fires, and snuffed flames soon bellowed smoke. Thanks to Mika's placement, and the fortune of chance, Riff-Raff had come in from the side furthest from the food pot. By the time the anima...thing, had a choice between the food or the man who smelt of pheromones, he pounced Mika. Though the whole affair seemed aggressive, the circumstances were less dangerous. See, Riff-Raff didn't want to maim, only cling. With all four paws clawing and gripping at the pheromone drenched geka. What could be perceived as attacking or danger would soon be dismissed. It was clear that the creature was quite affectionate. Rubbing itself cheek and nose against whatever possessed the ghost scent of pheromones. To her benefit or misfortune, this included Hotaru just the same. After dropping Mika's fragile body to the ground, realizing the Shinigami was not the sort of mate it desired, Riff-Raff raised it's head. With blacked eyes turning to Hotaru, leaves perked and alert, the floral beast lept towards her with an excited gurgle-meow-somekind of noise. Coming from the floor, a loud canting voice called out. A mix of frustration and self satisfaction. "My name is perfectly accurate; I assure you!"

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru could tell that Mika had no idea what to make of what she said. She meant all that she said. From before her procedure to now, she didn't feel any different. Her morals were still the same, everything was still the same. He grinned at her and she could tell he was still trying to figure out what made her tick, but she didn't want to make it too easy for the man. But, while he was smiling, he did say that she was a lot more vocal when talking about herself. "Of course I'm more vocal when I speak for myself, I'm a woman aren't I?" She added a wink after that comment.

She then noticed that he was focusing on the pot of water that was boiling on the fire. She checked the fire quickly, adding some firewood to keep the fire at the right temperature. She noticed that he brought a knife over, assuming it was from the sink but with him, she figured he could've easily just pulled it out of what she was starting to call his 'magical jacket.' It seemed like he kept so much stuff in that jacket of his, it wasn't even possible. Either that, or he engineered the jacket to look magical, but in reality, he just put an insane amount of pockets on the jacket.

Once the knife was out, he started to chop up all of the ingredients in front of him. She noticed that he also had ramen noodles. So, obviously, he was making ramen noodles. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I love ramen noodles! It's already starting to smell good just with cutting up the ingredients." He would cut ingredients, mix some together for a good grind in a mortar and once he mumbled something about Chia, she had no idea what he was talking about, but now her stomach was rumbling a little bit.

He continued to work, fliting around the kitchen like he owned the place. Once he had done all of his running around, the ramen seemed like it was almost done. It smelled so good and she was getting so hungry, she was almost watering at the mouth just from the smell. She had to hold it back so she didn't look like a complete idiot in front of him. He looked to the other pots and said the bait was working slow. So, she assumed his 'pet' would come out for whatever he put in those boiling pots of water. Interesting that the bait for his pet would work in boiling water.

He then said ramen would be her reward for her assistance and then he said he was starving. It was like he was meaning to piss her off with that comment. Her help was worth way more than that! "My assistance is worth way more than a stolen meal. But, if it's not good ramen you're feeding me, I swear I will not be happy and you'll get something coming to you. If it is good, I'll let the comment go this time, but next time remember not to say it that way. My time is worth more than a stolen meal."

He then grabbed a ladle, making pretty clear that he was getting ready to serve the stolen meal, that she hoped was good. But before he could actually ladle out the food, she heard some thick growling that almost sounded wet, if something can even sound wet. She thought it might've sounded like a cat? She really wasn't too sure. But, she would get her answer soon, because quickly, what she assumed was the scientist's cat ran through the kitchen, heading for the pots of boiling water. 

It snuffed the flames out when it knocked over all the boiling water pots that Mika had put his 'mysterious liquid' into. It was then that she noticed that it was a cat. A little black cat. But, some of the details didn't look like a normal cat. The ears looked like leaves and it had what looked like maybe his spine sticking out. Right after it turned over the pots, minus the noodle pot, it went after Mika. Smoke was billowing pretty badly, since the fires went out so suddenly.

It was so cute when it bounced on Mika. Though, it did grab onto him pretty hard, she could see the cat thing nuzzling with him, being very affectionate. It was so cute, she didn't know what to say. When Mika told it to get off him, it actually jumped off and then looked around the kitchen. It then looked her way and started running towards her. Since she didn't think the little cat thing was going to try and kill her, she let it run towards her and she grabbed it before it latched on, letting it rub all over her arms and chest area. She heard Mika say from the floor that his name was perfectly accurate. "I'll take your word on the smell thing. I'm assuming that this is your pet. It's so cute! What's its name?"

[MrDoctorDo]

”Riff-Raff!”, came the frustrated sound of a soul disheveled. ”It’s name is Riff-Raff! The voice continued to come from the floor, long after the attack had ceased. The young man was having a hell of a time recovering...how hard was it to get off the ground? Really? ”He’s not my pet, he is my plant.” A crashing noise resounded. ”D*mn it!” By now it would be clear, mixed within a cacophony of banging pots. Mika was having serious trouble getting back up. The wet floor proved a real challenge for the uncoordinated sod. Each time he tried to direct his hand or feet, they seemed to slip right back to where they were. The scientist...lacked all semblance of grace. The book worm only worsened his predicament with the cursing and agitation. Not to even mention the fully loaded coat which kept dragging him back down! ”This...thing!” Too volatile to make proper words; he looked quite a mess. Wet in most every place, stained by the debris left on the floor from a previous meal. The white of his jacket seemed to soak up all the refuse. The stains turned like bruises on pale skin, growing ever darker. Shame they weren’t more flush in color; then they might have looked the part of embarrassment. That’s what they were after all; embarrassing blemishes. ”That loathsome spawn. My coat...my coat!”

The scrawny Shinigami curled his arm back into the covering. Soon he was twisting about inside his own jacket. A moment later, crawling up off the floor with a freeing heave. As soon as he could stand, Mika gave a sigh of passing rage. Standing with his back to the innocent shrub and spectator; his posture seemed much different from before. The way he strutted about with his head high and shoulders back, that was gone. Now he seemed curled above the waist. Like a leaf in the rain. Shoulders dipped forward, and head sunk. One arm flicking, so as to toss away burning hot droplets. The other...well, it was much less lively. It was easy to see now; that arm which hid within a folded sleeve. Stopping before the elbow, the atrophied extension appeared weaker than the rest of him. Which should say a lot. Not only did he have no developed muscles from use, but it seemed wounded at the base. The folds of bonded flesh looked akin to a nasty scar. Surely a common sight in this barracks? Still, uncommon on one so clearly unsuited for combat. The lost limb and resulting malformation did not fit with the rest of him. Were it not for his attitude; all of Mika would appear a gentle, eccentric soul. More weird than venomous. What story would such a look tell a warrior such as Hotaru? What might his appearance say, that he could not? For not a moment did he turn to glance at his fellows. Not for a second did he move so that they might see his face. There he simply stood, quiet for a time. Maybe there would be a fleeting concern for him? Maybe the arrogance and callousness of his former tone could be forgotten? Hmm, unlikely. It is hard to forget when people are cruel or dreadful. No matter what weakness seeps and hides beneath that cover. No matter what good intention might have been lost within. It’s always the bad which draws the eye. The bad which stains the memory.

What felt like an forever for the humiliated scientist, would only be a fraction of a second for Hotaru. By that point, Mika was reaching down to retrieve his shamed garb. Filthy and wet as it was. Picking it up required a meager effort, but for him it seemed a chore. ”So unpleasant.” The smoothness of his tone seemed wrapped in awkwardness. The same awkwardness that follows all humility. ”That little pest caught me completely off guard. I thought I had trained such actions out of it.” Finally turning to look back at the lingering Shinigami, and the lush shrub she held. The sclera of his eyes had reddened a bit, but all other color of his face was lost beneath the makeup. Though his lips curled down into a soft, unpassionate frown; small portions of his overbite gleaned visibly. Without the pipe in his lips, this detail of his features became more apparent. ”I’m glad you prefer it’s company…”, said with a sneer and squint of his eyes. ”It might soon need a new owner to tend it.” In Hotaru’s arms, the “feline” would sink. Happy to be held, it seemed to go limb once secure. in fact, the beast had truly go dormant. Looking down upon it would reveal the legs and tail had drooped. It’s ears no longer turning or flipping towards sounds that might occur.

This behavior was not unlike a satisfied cat; one whom felt at ease. After a few seconds of silence though, that reminiscent behavior would show less and less. The create was cool in temperature, and quite soft to the touch. It’s fur more like felt; with its softness and almost nonexistent strands. Now as it lay nestled in her care; it acted more like a plant. Conserving energy, rather than fidget. Then came a sweet smell into the air, like honey freshly drawn from a hive. Were she to keep watching; Riff-Raff’s spine would seem to tingle. Yet another sign of comfort and joy. Except, with this tingle there would also come a transformation...of sorts. In reality it was more of a stretch. A comfort driven expression; which opened slightly the crease of it’s spine. Beneath the darkened extensions that jutted like teeth, a pink color could be spotted. As the beast rested more, more of this color could be seen. It was the pouch that existed along Riff-raff’s back. The split which appeared identical to the Flytrap it owed heritage to. Now that it had no reason to move or frolic; it would lay in wait for nutrients to come to it’s lure. That sweet smell which filled the air, Riff-Raff’s own bait for the delicious flies which often lingered about kitchens such as this. Watching this scene unfold, ”Seems it would have no qualm with that. Just set it down when you grow weary of the weight.” Tossing his coat on the counter before him, to accentuate the point. ”We succeeded in catching the prey; which means we eat.” A real Darwin toned method of saying, “Let’s eat.”

Whether she sat down or stood. Whether she spoke or remained quite. Mika grabbed up the ladle he once dropped, and tossed it into the sink. Gripping a new one from the racks above the cooking pits, he turned to finish his previous chore. Ladling out a portion for him and for her. Having to leave the bowls on the counter near the pot. Before she could continue any claims about her time and it's value; Hotaru would watch his one armed act. Who could value time than someone always moving at half pace? What was the real value of a bowl of ramen; when the chef had to work twice as hard, and twice as careful? How quickly a stolen meal can become expensive. There was a generous excess in her bowl. It nearly sloshed over the edges, as ingredients swirled inside the steamy broth. This was not an act of kindness; this disproportionate serving. She claimed he would pay if the soup did not satisfy. “Pay” in the language used in Squad 11 or 10, meant physical harm. You get bullied for 30 plus years in the Shinigami Academy...you either grow strong or avoidant. One look at Mika would answer which he became. So he endeavored to avoid a punishment; though not necessarily out of respect for the guarantor. After he accepted his offering; Mika followed with a handout of chopsticks. A necessity for her to enjoy the meal.

”There is no meat. I suspect your Squad serves a vast amount of meat. This should be a nice, simple change.” Mushrooms mingled with the chia, and all of it smelt like a heavenly garden. The taste would far exceed the quality of the smell. Knowing this as he did; Mika dove straight into his own bowl. Quickly plucking out with a pair of carved hashi. The sticks looked too polished and pale to be wood, and had honestly appeared from nowhere! Mika had actually grabbed them when he set down his jacket, but it would appear a trick to the undiscerning eye. "I hated ramen growing up. I was forced to eat it quite often. Had it not been poorly prepared, I would have still grown tired of it." Setting the bowl on the counter, he Hashi lifting a nice glob of the gooey noodles to his lips. Eyes going hazy as he disappeared between this meal and the countless ones of his past. Soon a pleasing smirk stretched across his face, at the success of his recipe. ”Slurrrrp.” The wet sound of satisfied hunger oozed out, all while he savored his lunch. To eat his own portion; Mika had to huddle over the counter. Rather meekly. Though one wouldn't suspect piety with the triumphant way he slurped. He ate quickly and with vigor. Still, while he ate; Mika’s eyes never left the plant. It had been eluding him for much of the morning. Now it was back. Even though it brought a sense of resolution to his obsessive thoughts; it tormented him a bit. After all...

What the f*ck had he been doing before Riff-Raff escaped?! Surely it was important...now he couldn’t recall at all! ”I was doing something…”, he said through the chewing of noodles. ”What was I doing.” Starring still at Riff-Raff, his mind was actually very far away. Recollection was the worst delay known to modern man. Then suddenly..."You!"...as if waking from a dream. "What do you do for your Squad?" Turning with a wriggling mass of noodles slinking up and past his lips. "You seem far too keen to be wasted in the fray. Not to mention the adoptive name of "Kuchiki". With such qualities on a resume; I wager you hold some position of interest, if not powe...authority." Straightening upright, raising back to eye level. "I have some questions regarding Squad 11, and an informed insider would be the perfect source." Setting aside his food; Mika reached for something inside oh coat once more. This time revealing that he actually a rigid satchel with him all along. Worn under new the the protective sheet of white. "What I need aren't war stories or fighting tips...I need questionnaires answered." In his hand lay a fresh, crisp stack of papers. On each there was a clear and visible arrangement of queries. Were she to look them over; Hotaru would find the questions mundane. Bland even. Questions about Squad opinion; headache frequency; sleeping schedules; and even general happiness. It seemed really human resourcy. "Could I coordinate with you...and get these handed out and returned?" Grey eyes flickered with new enthusiasm as he held out the papers. Worthless ass they might seemed, they meant something to Mika.

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru was standing, looking at what she thought was the doctor's pet in her arms while she was listening to what he said about it. It's name was Riff-Raff and it was his plant, not his pet. But honestly, looking at it, she could almost swear that it was a pet. She saw that the doctor was struggling to get up, but she wasn't sure on how to help him. Especially since he only had one arm and was flailing around a little bit.

Hotaru started to pet the top of Riff-Raff's head, to the delight of the little plant. After only a second or two, the doctor was able to regain his composure. He straightened himself out somewhat and she noticed his arm, but she tried to make it look like it was in passing. She didn't want to dwell on something that was probably hard for him to deal with or talk about. She wasn't going to make this new doctor friend uncomfortable in any way.

Mika then told her that he was glad she liked its company because it might need a new owner to tend to it. She continued to pet the plant, while she saw its legs and tail droop. "It's not that I enjoy its company more, it's just that I didn't want to get in the way of you trying to get up. I was afraid I would hinder you more than I would help. Sorry if it seemed different to you, doctor."

She did notice that the longer she was holding it and it seemed more at ease, the less it moved. When the smell started to emit from the creature, she laid it down gently near a windowsill. Since he had told her it was a plant, she figured that it would like to be near the sunlight. She then watched as Riff-Raff's spine actually opened up. She just kinda stared at what was going on with the creature. He did say it was a plant and what was going on right now was proof of that.

She just looked at it in amazement when she heard Mika said that it was time to eat. She turned towards the doctor and rubbed her hands together. She was getting hungry and what he was cooking did smell amazing. She had always loved ramen. She watched him ladle out the portions of food and he gave her way too much while he got too little. She didn't understand why he did it until she remembered her playfully saying that he would pay if the food didn't taste good. She mentally hit herself in the head for that one. "Are you sure you have enough? I was just kidding on about making you pay if the food didn't taste good."

Once he said there was no meat, she looked and saw he was correct. But honestly, the smell alone made her mouth water, so this would be interesting to not eat meat with this meal. She did have to agree with the man, there was meat for every meal. Actually, there was always cooked meat in here that the squad could come eat at their leisure, so this would be a very nice change of pace for her. She prayed over her bowl and when she looked up again, Mika had already eaten at least half of his portion.

She had never seen anyone eat that fast before. She started to eat, but at a slower pace. She did have to admit, it was a very nice ramen. She enjoyed every bite of it. She sat next to him at the counter, he eating like he had never eaten before, while she ate it slower. It was then that she heard him slurp and she also jumped a bit. She hadn't been expecting it and she smiled at herself for even being like that.

While she was eating, she was thinking on the interesting day she had had so far. She was just walking along until she ran into this doctor. He was definitely an interesting character, but she didn't really mind him. He was nice, if you could handle all of his quirks. She then heard him yell out a you and she looked towards the man. She had no idea if he was talking to the plant or to her.

He then started to ask her questions. He wanted to know what she did for the squad, because he didn't think she was in the main force, especially with the name Kuchiki. He assumed she held a position of interest or authority. She watched as he pulled papers out of his coat and she was just curious why he would carry that many papers around with him. Unless, this was what he was doing before she bumped into him.

He said that an informed insider of the squad would be the perfect source. She didn't really get to talk, so she would answer all his questions at the end of his talk. He said he wanted questionnaires answered and wanted to coordinate getting them handed out and returned. She started to rack her brain with how she could get the entire squad in one place at one time and actually try to hand out these. Getting them returned would be even harder.

Since her squad was always sent out on missions, it was rare the entire squad got together. It really only happened for the squad meetings, which didn't happen too often. She turned towards Mika and answered him. "Well, for your first question, I am the Third Seat of this division, so you were right about that. I'm hoping to eventually get a Vice Captaincy then Captaincy. But, with these questionnaires, I don't know how I can get them to all my squad members and have them return them. But, I will try my best to get all the questionnaires out and answered. If it helps, I can fill one out right now, if that would help." She grabbed the papers and placed them away from her food as she continued to nipple on her food.

[MrDoctorDo]

Two mirrors of silver waited open and flickering. In them seemed to be a light as bright as a star; glowing with a lively issue. In Mika's eyes was an intense focus, and...a seemingly unbroken, unwavering attention. It was though he was hanging on every word; wondering when his grip might slip or become sure. Each passing syllable that blew up from her chest and through her clapping windbox...this all seemed to change. Just as the stars fade with the coming of day, so did Mika's ocular glimmer. While it could be blamed on the lighting, the evening fast approaching and kitchen fire swiftly dying, such wasn't the culprit. It was Hotaru, and her degenerating speech. Her words causing the fading of the spark, and the shift from silver to gray. Soon it was though Mika had no life at all. Both iris stricken dim and dead. Yet still he stared. Still his weak arm stretched out. Still his bony fingers clipped the papers tight. Hotaru's every utterance was another dousing splash upon his inner flame. Were it not evident in his gaze; then the rest of his face would express. The thin lips which curled around a slightly protrusive, bucktoothed smile, wrenched downward in soft fashion. At times it seemed as those his blackened lips glistened. Possibly moistened by seeping drool. Goodness knows how the drool creeper past his mousy dentata, but certainly it added to his growing look of boredom. Makeup accented eyebrows, once raised in anticipation, sank lower and lower over his glare. Even though they were painted to remain heightened and jovial, they could not compete with the furrowing brow. Having been open and full before; Mika's eyes began slipping behind slow, dissatisfied lids.

It wasn't until she finished her confession that...well, quiet began. Not that much of it really. Meaning, not very long. Yet it might seem quite lengthy. Awkwardness does tend to exacerbate such scenarios. Having such a soul as Mika peering deep into one's personal space, to the tune of silence, certainly qualified as unpleasant. Still, the time was necessary. There was a lot for Mika to process about her unthinkable response. Variables to add, and others to remove. Math, damn it. Lots of it. By the time all the numbers had filed into a workable equation, they had crowded out all the words! "Bwuaaftt'd...duh..." The motion of his jaw seemed eerie, to say the least. It seemed to fall before actually trying to form words. It was as if it fell out of it's hinges, and then got cracked back into place before anyone could really notice. His eyes joined this messy display; rolling about in his head in a sudden turn. Was...was he falling apart right in front of her? Was their an illness within him, mentally? After a shake of his head; all the features of Mika's face returned to normal. It was as though he woke himself painfully from a deep sleep. Coma. It was as though he emerged from coma. As if he had been put in a coma. Her words had disappointed him into a coma. "Aaaaah-eh-hehheh. I can't believe this...", his voice carrying a bit more exhaustion than normal. "I was so sure I found some competence." Mika shook the papers a could of times, and then brought them back to his lap. As if a denying gesture. "No. I think not."

For a second Mika sat there...silent yet again. This time he didn't move, nor keep his eyes affixed to her. His now freed hand went diving into his Shihakushō once more. Retrieved yet again was that most peculiar looking pipe. One more he placed it to his lips, and gripped it's tip with his teeth. No fumes came from the coppery piece. No flicker of light or trace of heat from it's bowl. Mika did see to sigh as though breathing methodically some rich smoke. A few long breaths such as this passed; before Mika interjected into whatever offense she might have taken..."What sort of Squad elects so spineless a person their third Seat? What Kuchiki adopts someone so underwhelming?" Oh, f*ck! If she weren't offended before, that was bound to be changing. "I suppose nobles and numbskulls share standards these days." Choo choo...punch train's comin'! "You are the third in command of your Squad. Of the entire Squad. Yet you can't see yourself coordinating a task as simple as a letter drop." Practically gnawing on his pipe in frustration, "As under qualified as you describe yourself...it is frustrating you aspire for Captaincy. Even worse that you still have the qualifications to achieve your goal!"

Mika's one arm rose, hand tossing up in a grand gesture of presentation. As if his words were somehow being displayed to some audience. A spectacle of disbelief. That's all it was. A spectacle. That's all she would be if she remained so unsure. In Mika's eyes, at least. "No. What data your questionnaire documents, has already been revealed. There isn't much more your handwriting could impart." For all the cruelty that might simper in his speech, there was a lacking of true venom in his tone. What he said, everything he said, was all to a sad beat. It was more of a grim discovery, than vicious berating. After all, Mika had expectations of leadership. Like all subordinates should. Expectations that were sensible and rational. Sadly, none of them were being met. Not right now. Not through this doubtful young woman. She was already in a position to lead. She was already better than every non-Captain of the entire, eleventh division. She should have both the authority and the will to accomplish tasks such as this. Leading the souls of the combat division should be in her nature. Beyond training or duty; a part of her very soul. That is what it means to commit to a Squad. That is what it means to lead as a seated officer. Where was Hotaru's will and assurance in herself?

Assuming they still littered his lap; Mika grabbed the documents and set them aside. "While I claimed a collaboration; it was implied that you would handle the issuing and collection. This is your Squad, not mine. You are supposed to know how it operates, not me." Reaching to grab his coat; Mika began a dance that would slip it back onto his shoulders. Getting his arm in the sleeve and then the jacket up onto that side was the easy part, as one could image. The other side was a real chore. Not gonna lie, teeth are required. Sometimes even some fancy shoulder rolls. Success always takes time, and free movement, and free space, and an upright posture, and a distinct absence of violent third seats. If all of these were granted him, he might finish his redressing. "I won't be able to stay and oversee any thing. I would have to go back to my duties. You would have to operate independently..." His pupils drifted behind a half lidded gaze. Free hand now scooping up his papers. "To think, a Third Seat is incapable of such in Squad Eleve-" Slap! By this point, Riff-Raff would have noticed his master's stance. Seeing the "Great Feeder" back on his feet; the plant would assume it was time for goodbyes. This meant that the lazy chloroplastinator would need to hitch a ride. There was no way his sedentary butt was going to waddle all the way home. The result?

The brackish cat tackled Mika's face. An easy feat considering it's jumping and Mika's shortness. No sooner had it plopped him on the noggin, did the feline wriggle around the back of his head. Laying like a boa, draping like a vine. Seriously...it is a curiosity what all genes were in this creature! Still, it seemed content curled behind Mika's fat head. Even if it's not inconsiderable weight was quite the burden for his thin neck. "Ahck-d*mn it! Again! So selfish you are!" Fumbling forward a bit, the scrawny man looked as though he would tumble yet again. Catching himself with swift forestep. ”Here!” His hand tossed the stack at her. whether she caught it or not was irrelevant to him, he was going to fall if he didn’t retrieve his lively accessory. ”C-come...no, get off!” Trying to get his hand on the slick, little sh*t. the feline easily moving from clawing it’s thorns into him, and crawling wherever it might escape capture. All in all, the sounds from the shrub sounded more ecstatic than fearful. Like a child being tickled; laughter mixed with crys. Assuming she could take her eyes off of the scene before her, the papers were now in full view. Each and every word on them for her to decipher. It was as the scientist originally expressed.

There were a numerous amount of questions. Most of them dealing with daily routines and general happiness. It looked like a baseline psych evaluation. The heck? Why would Mika want info on Squad 11’s happiness? It...didn’t seem the sort of thing he would find fascinating. Mmm, not on the surface at least. All of that aside, there was one intriguing note...only for those who are in the know about such matters. A warrior such as Hotaru, even with her rank and office, didn’t seem the like one of “those”. One of “them” who specialize in the paperwork they have to do day in and day out for their Squad. So maybe...maybe she wouldn’t find it odd that these sheets had spaces for their names at the top. ”AHA!” Mika, boldly clasping the collar of his Shihakusho closed. Inside his black robes, wriggling beneath the fabric like a dancing potbelly. ”Caught…” So might Mika be...assuming Hotaru was the sort of officer she really needed to be for her Squad. Assuming she could identify the abnormality, and then find the spine to address him like a true superior.

[Hotaru Kuchiki-Masurao]

Hotaru looked at Mika, the scientist and just watched his expression. She didn't know how the squad would react to filling out something they might think would be stupid or something, but it seemed that this scientist did want to know about the workings of the Squad. She could easily answers questions that he had, but she could understand why he would want to ask the entire squad. Every different person in the squad would see things differently and experience things a lot differently than she would.

What happened next surprised her. His jaw went slack and he just muttered out words. He thought he found competence, but then he said he didn't. She did a double take with that. Excuse me? Just what in the hell did he think? She had to deal with this squad everyday, which should show how competent she actually is. What he started to say next pissed her off to no end. He called her spineless and underwhelming, to the point that the Kuchiki never should've adopted her. He also mentioned how nobles and numbskulls share the same standards.

But, he wasn't done, he continued to say she couldn't coordinate a letter drop being the Third Seat of an entire squad. She had described herself so overwhelmingly but she still had the credentials to be a Captain, which she still had the credentials to achieve it. She was so angry now, her hands were balled into fists, shaking with rage. Her head was lowered to fight back the emotions that Mika was making her feel. He then said she didn't need to fill out one because what he would've needed from the questionnaire, he already knew now.

The berating didn't stop there. She would operate this independently and before he could say anything else negative towards her, she heard him stop midword. She didn't look up, but she assumed it was Riff-Raff pelting his face like he did earlier. But, once Mika, she assumed got him under control, she heard him say here and throw the papers. They fell around where she was sitting. Her rage was at an explosive point and she didn't want to do anything stupid at this point.

She knew she was strong and this was her first position as an officer. She was gifted with a high rank, but never used it that often. She was always away on missions. The Kuchiki comment got to her the most. It was true she had been in the family for a little bit of time now, but she still felt like the outsider. Even though Sozen hand picked her to join his family, she was always wondering what the other Kuchiki would say about her, or if they would even accept her. It always bothered her and this just made it worse.

She looked now and noticed something on the questionnaire, a spot for a name. She thought it was weird. Usually, there was no spot like that, just questions and no names. Why in the hell would he want to know what they were saying about the Squad? She did enough paperwork from her Vice Captain to know that it shouldn't be there. It made her curious. But, first, she would need to address this man to put him in his place. She would not tolerate the way he talked to her. She gathered the papers, pounded them on the table while standing up, glaring at Mika.

"MIKA! HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT?! I might seem spineless or unworthy, but don't you think I already know that?! I have never had this kind of importance before and I'm still trying my best to get to know the squad and do what's right. I know Sozen-sama hand picked me to join his family, but I still wonder how the rest of the family will take me. But, I work through all my problems. And, I will achieve what I want through hard work, not just because of my name. How dare you think so less of me when you barely know me!

So, I will take all these papers and make the squad fill them out for you and return them to you at my convenience. Though, I do have one question about these papers. I have done enough paperwork in the squad to know that for a questionnaire that they don't leave spots for names on the top of the papers. Why do you need their names for this? It doesn't make sense. You tell me what you're going to use these for or I'm not handing them out to my squad. I don't want to give them something that can harm them later based on answers to questions." She continued to glare at the scientist, letting her rage go through her eyes to relax herself a bit.

[MrDoctorDo]

The child's obstinance would crumble like a castle of sand. In the face of the coming tide of wrath, there was no resolution or structure. With every searing word that the Third Seat issued upon him; Mika shrank a little lower to the earth. Had she been as particularly long winded in speech as ...Mika might have been reduced to his belly. A fitting punishment for someone who dare deceive and manipulate others like the wretched snake. The boy was receiving a fitting punishment for his arrogance. For overstepping the bounds of criticism, and disregarding the separation of seniority; Mika should have considered himself lucky to only endure verbal reprimands. Ah, but no one could convince him of that. Not now. Not with the hate spitting half-noble looming over him with her oppressive glare. Adopted or not, Hotaru was coming along quickly with her expressiveness.

For the first time since he began speaking with her did Mika feel any sense of inferiority. Sure, she had intimidated him before. Appearing as a muscle bound bully threatening unwanted physicality had made him nervous. Only nervous. Mika has never considered a bully his superior. So no, this new intimidation struck a different cord. One much more closely bound to Mika's weaknesses. In these brief moments of vocal escalation...the learned young man was sent back to being a boy once more. It made him a had insecure. It threw off his expectations, and disrupted his thoughts. Mika was left speechless for the barrage. The exchange lost all connection with a debate or contest. Instead, it was little more than a scolding. Quite a strange one at that. One in which the wronged party felt compelled to defend. Worse still, Mika's awareness of the confused roles meant nothing. He still couldn't find his voice...even though opportunity to get the upper hand was passing by! Oh, how he would hate it later.

Starring with stormy gray eyes; it was clear that a new spark had been ignited by her aggravation. The way he looked at her now had none of the displeasure or...boredom that once was. Now the boy looked more like a punished child. There was both a mix of confusion, and a distinct worry for safety. Unlike the time she reminded him of his schooldays' scuffles; Hotaru now scared the scientist in the way his inexistent mother never did. Huh. Her age wasn't quite right for that. No! She was much closer to being the inexistence older sister he never had. That is...much worse. A sister does not possess the natural charm and concern of a parent. A sister would be more like his brother. Already Mika's heart braced for the another wave of malicious chiding. Eyes beginning to bulge. Upper lip turning soft in frailty. All of his form slanting and slinking backwards in his retreat. BAM! The warriors hand slammed the table of carved mineral. The normally rigid stone sounding off with a tremble of its own. My...she was a strong one.

Were she pushed to action, Mika's lifespan would be drastically reduced. She would have him dead with but a cross flex of her spiritual presence. Let alone the punishment that her hand could issue in the form of a slap...or punch. The medical expertise which repeatedly turned the gears of his thoughts, now measured the amount of debris his corpse would become on the other side of her aggression. Being sickly and papery as he was, the remains would be quite scant and widely scattered. So in these moments of fury and fear, Mika bowed his head and steadied his gaze. Fight or flight had failed, and instead he choose cautious anticipation. It would be an awkward moment and a half before he found the words his life desperately needed to barter for more breath.

"Well...I did say such things.", the voice started low. Much more calm than his appearances might profess. "You heard me say them. They are opinion, and so is your defence." With his one arm held back towards the table, Mika guided his backward steps with care. Still his voice was low, almost monotone...yet unable to shed all traces of life. "The fact remains...this is the first time you have acted an officer since we've met. This is the first time that I could have recognized that claim as legitimate." There it was. Admission. It had been quite a strange day of interpersonal communication. Were anyone to read the transcripts from their exchange, it would be a difficult sale to see either as a officer. "Any doubt in your abilities come from lacking evidence." Mika would hope to move out of arm's reach, but not outright abandon her. For...this situation just turned for the exciting.

Hotaru had exhibited both authority as an officer, and passion of self assuredness. The fire that her name suggested had been fed. Mika's unflattering, observational methodology had proven a most dramatic catalyst. Now...now he saw what he needed. What he had discredited before was now snarling at him. Growling in proclamation of it's existence. "I should not have made any claim without sufficient proof." Translation, "sorry". That was the best that the his arrogance could manage. Seriously. Though, what words could never express...his reservations to speak out against her confirmed. If anything, he was committed to stomaching the rules and customs of authority. "As for the surveys..."

Looking back to the stack of parchment she plastered to the table, Mika's eyes became studious again. It was clear he was thinking of a proper explanation. That there was no prepared answer to this unique line of questioning. Mmm...not one he could recall after her stress inducing assertiveness. "I am compiling sample data. The same as any survey. I need to construct test groups for future work, and those questionnaires will accomplish that." Once more his eyes met hers. "I don't require vague values. I'm not preparing social statistics. I need exact, disseminating figures. My work will require very particular requirements. I will need to know candidate's: mental health, physical status, habitual patterns, emotional tendencies, and...overall personalities." The more he spoke, the more Mika's excitement bled through. Words were beginning to curl his lips with their enunciation. Just saying such things brought him joy; if only a small surge of it.

"My efforts necessitate strong bodied sorts. Those with active lifestyles and highly monitored diets." Hotaru was smart. In her head would click, "Combat Squads". 2nd. 3rd. 10th and 11th. These were the Divisions that mandated physical superiority. Any would fit his desires. "I also need very compliant mentalities. Yes-men. Trained dogs. Martyrs...heroic types even." Another click. 11th. The combat division notorious for brazenness. The other squads faltered in these particular requirements. More dogma complicated their aims and training. The foreign offensive division...oh no, they were perfect. The perfect blend of disciplined and confident. Mika knew his work. He knew exactly what the crop he wanted, and what garden it flourished in most. "I need their names so I can file formal requests. I need their names so I can approach them independently, and offer them whatever incentives I can for cooperation."

By this point, the scientist had spilled his guts. Part of it fear. Some of it respect of official request. Most of it egotism and damnable eagerness. Was he being completely truthful with her? Was there any way to validate his answers? Someone who was as blunt as he surely had room to deny deceitfulness...but don't all liars possess such talent? It would all fall on Hotaru's insight and suspicion. What could be confirmed was his delighted tone. Mika really wanted to conduct his data collection. The young man had hopes and visions for the future...and his time was precious. "The Noble Houses aren't the only ones recruiting for the future." Mika reached to pluck the sproutling from his shihakusho. Gripping the beast by its glossy nape. "As a note on that..." He commented, holding Riff-Raff out towards her. The conservative plant sleeping soundly...but silently.

"Hard work only benefits those designed for it. Some species are meant to live differently. Proof that there is more to the names given to each of them." Translation, "do only what feels natural". Examining the sloth-ridden shrub. "I would advise to act as the species you are." "Do not attempt to be as another name would suggest." She didn't quite know this...but this topic of names and duties was one that ran deep in him. A history centuries long. "As it serves my own ends; I obviously wish you success with the surveys." By now, Mika's face was cheery. The mousy, overbite grin was displayed. "I will eagerly await the results of your agreed participation."