From riches to rags (Marl only)

Well, at the very least it's not prison. But a shack, seriously? Jack sat on the makeshift chair out in front of the shack that was to be his new place of residence. Ri had just dropped him off here then left saying he'll talk to his Captain. So here he was, with naught to do.

He watched the other people go about their business, examining the strange robes they seemed to wear. At first he took them to be monks, but soon realized them to be nothing but peasants. And even stranger still was that the men didn't have so much as a dagger on them. And their eyes were thin and slanted, and not at all proper. It perplexed him, to say the least.

Not to say the passerby's were not interested in him either. He wasn't especially tall, and had a slender frame, but he wore black clothes and hood, and even armor plating. His hair was stark white, and his eyes were strangely yellow. He also held the thick and heavy looking broadsword with an air of familiarity, and many questioned whether or not he was a soul reaper.

After a few hours of watching, he felt restless, and so he stood up and drew his sword. Raising his blade high above him, he practiced the sword style taught to him by an Italian he met long ago. He flowed through the stances, imagining enemies before and behind him as he cut the air with his lethal stances.

Kurama walked down the streets of the Junrinan District as he did on all of his days off... Though this time he wasn't headed to the Izakaya as he normally would, it was still to early in the day to be drinking. Instead he just walked about and pondered to himself. He'd heard talk of several large promotions being discussed, it seemed that the Seireitei had some positions that they needed to fill... and some to empty...

He wasn't quite sure who they were considering for the open Thirteenth Squad Captain position but rumors told him that Ri O'Nocht was looking good for the job. Kurama did find it odd that the man was able to transfer to the Third Seat position with such little notice, obviously greater powers were in motion then he could sense.

He smiled as he thought about his old subordinate making captain, in fact it wasn't long before he couldn't hold back the laughter. 'I hope they keep tons of booze on hand or we're all done for...' he thought to himself. Kurama walked a few more yards before turning down another street. The area was a relatively new section of the district. Newcomers were beginning to flood in by the truckloads these past few weeks. In fact, he'd heard that some sort of rogue soul reaper had been tossed in with the peasants. "I wonder what kind of man actually decides to live here instead of the human realm..."

Kurama had grown up in this district, true... but that didn't mean that he enjoyed it much. He remembered dreaming about becoming a Shinigami like his friend...

His concentration, or lack there of, was broken by the faint sounds of steel slicing through air. That and the fact that whatever it was reeked of spiritual energy...

"What in the hell?" He looked about and sure enough he found what the cause of the noise was, a young looking man of about twenty years old was practicing some European style of sword kata. The sounds were emanating from his blade, obviously a zanpakuto for it was just teeming with spiritual power. It lusted for combat and the wielder looked as if he wished to give it to the thing.

"You must be the guy I heard about this morning. Though I must confess it wasn't much of a source of info... I don't even know your name." Kurama approached the man, leaving room for him to finish out his routine before responding... "Mine is Kurama Himura, nice to meet you."

As soon as the newcomer was finished speaking, Jack turned towards him, spun his blade with a flourish into a salute, swung the blade down, then used the momentum to sheath the blade without looking. He did have a wisp of a smile on his face, which made him look all the more deadly. He lowered his hood and let his full mane fall from it before speaking.

Greetings. It is welcoming to find one who yet retains manners after death. My name is Bloody Jack, though ye may just call me Jack. I was the commanding captain of the Black Legion mercenary band before our untimely demise. As he spoke, he took stock of this man before him. He had lightish blue hair, which seemed no more strange than his own. He also had a slight build and carried the weapon on his hip with an air of familiarity. In many ways the two seemed to be very much alike, though this one had the same slanted eyes as the rest.

I wonder if he is any good in a fight. Hmm, probably better, judging by his looks. He waited a moment more before speaking. To be blunt, where the hell am I? The bastard who brought me here failed to clarify anything, and just ran off after leaving me here at this shack. I don't expect to be treated like royalty, but I do demand an explanation. He was no longer smiling, but his eyes and stance showed no hostility.

Kurama laughed, the lower seated shinigami weren't exactly known for being of much use. Little did he know that it had been his old subordinate that dropped this man off in the Rukongai...

"This is the Rukongai, essentially the poor district of the Soul Society. Essentially this is the afterlife in which you should have originally been sent to, it's a surprise that you hadn't become a hollow instead. Guess you have the makings of something better in you... Anyway, those walls you see over there are what separates this district from where the Shinigami live and operate, the Seireitei." Kurama pointed towards the giant walls that acted as a barrier to keep unwanted intruders out. "If you want, I can show you around a bit considering you'll most likely be staying here a while..."

As the Fourth Seat Officer spoke, he was also studying the man before him. He had impressive sword handling skills but he doubted the man had much experience with discovering his true connection with the zanpakuto. Kurama hadn't even thought twice about the fact that he'd kept a straight face where others would have blinked, flinched, or even stumbled backwards at the sign of a blade swung in their face. It was just a result of his training, nothing more, nothing less. He waited for the man's reply as he stretched out a small cramp in his leg. It seemed that the more days off he had, the more his body whined that it wasn't received ample training time.

Jack didn't like the conditions he was in, but he had no other choice. Fine, though it seems as though I need to cut my hair. It's too long for my liking. He motioned for Kurama to lead on. As they walked through the streets, Jack could not help but feel their eyes on him. Hmph, it's like they've never seen a mercenary before. Kurama, why do all of you wear such strange garments? And where are the town guard? I don't see any armed men patrolling the streets. I suppose thievery is rampant here?

Jack still didn't know exactly how much time had passed between his imprisonment and now. to him it only felt like a minute had passed, and not a thousand years. Not to mention he was in a very non-European place and has no prior knowledge of the orient nor it's people. He has never felt more out of place, either in life or death.

And another thing, why are the doors made out of paper? That's very ineffective when keeping intruders out. And why do open them sideways? It's so strange to have doors that don't swing inwards or outwards. And what is with that curved blade? I've never seen a design like that before, except in Egypt once, and they were thicker and more hooked shaped

It seems that despite first appearances he can be quite inquisitive, something he learned to be in order to learn as much as he can, as fast as he can. It has helped him in a few battles to question everything. The smallest of details can make the most difference. Plus, he's curious.

Kurama had the sudden feeling of deja vu all of a sudden... He couldn't quite place it but this man reminded him of another inquisitive, and completely clueless man... He shook off the urge to run as far away as possible and began answering the man's question in, what was hopefully, the order they'd been asked.

"Let's see... These robes are pretty much wore because... well, it's tradition. This area doesn't really have a town guard, the Shinigami keep it patrolled every so often but unfortunately theft is a problem since we can't be everywhere at once, you know? Let's see... The doors, which we call fusuma, are made of paper because it's cheap. There aren't really any intruders to worry about in the Soul Society, only pluses are sent here and this dimension doesn't get many other outside visitors... Basically the only thing of value around here is food. The reason we slide them sideways is to give a room more space, without having to worry about a swinging door knocking into anything."

Kurama continued to walk and talk, placing his hand on his zanpakuto casually. "Hmm... what else did you ask?" He began slightly pulling his zanpakuto out of its sheath, only about an inch or so and let it fall back down. He did this a couple of times as he tried to concentrate. Eventually he looked down at his hand and the final question dawned on him. "Ah! That's right, our zanpakuto! The katana is the most common form of zanpakuto that we've seen, though others aren't too uncommon. In fact, I met a man in Scotland once with a sword somewhat like yours... He wasn't an official Shinigami either, but a rogue soul reaper like you..."

As they walked, tons of villagers began to watch them. They usually did stare when a Shinigami was in their midsts but now the strange man that'd just moved in was accompanying him. They would obviously now be even more cautious of Jack. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what's your zanpakuto's name? I've only ever heard the name of one such style of sword before..."

Name? What, you name your swords? Jack was confused. Why name a sword? This was probably the fourth or fifth sword he owned, and he was personally surprised it's lasted as long as it has. He looked down at the hilt of broadsword. The leather was worn, and nicked in a few places, and the pommel had it's fair share of marks. The guard also had a few nicks that come from sword fighting. But it was just an ordinary blade, right?

He shook his head and looked back at Kurama. So, why do you name your swords? Don't they wear down too quickly? Swords don't tend to last long enough for names to hold meaning. At least not in my hands.

Kurama had to actually stop in his tracks and cock his head sideways. "You mean you don't even know that the blade you are wielding is a zanpakuto? Woah, you are clueless... I'm sorry, I didn't mean that as an insult. I have a habit of speaking my thoughts sometimes, and I don't tend to sugarcoat them since I'm usually the only intended recipient..."

The man looked about and decided that he should probably find a place better suited for answering the man's question. "Uh, follow me for a moment..." Kurama lead Jack down several streets until he'd reached the place he'd been searching for. "Good, looks like it's still here. If you don't mind, could you stand here? I'm going to need a lot of room..." The Fourth Seat Officer left Jack standing just off the side of the road next to an old tree that looked to have been dead for quit a while yet still seemed to be producing a handful of leaves.

Kurama walked all the way to the other side of the clearing. He was reminded of a time when he'd been here a few years ago, the owner of the lot basically left it open like this so that his bar patrons would have a place to duke it out when they had a few too many. "Alright!" Kurama shouted so that the man could hear him, "I'll show you why each Shinigami has a name for their blade." Kurama unsheathed his zanpakuto and held it so it was easily visible in the light at such a distance. "This, is Korounin Aisu! He is both my master, and my fighting companion... without him, I would be no more suited for combat than the men and women of the Rukongai!"

He took an almost casual forward stance and allowed his spiritual pressure to burst from him, not holding back anything. With so much spiritual pressure being unleashed without any warning what so ever, Jack was forced to sink to one knee. Kurama raised his blade as his reiatsu began to chill the air around him. Even at a distance of forty or so yards, Jack could feel the cold running down his spine, something that even Lt.s have claimed to experience in the young man's presence... "Bow before the Frozen Sage!, Kurounin Aisu!" With that the sword shifted from its katana form into its nodachi shape, which was becoming increasingly easier to handle as Kurama practiced with it. The blade felt more like an extension of himself, as a zanpakuto should... becoming one with the blade was a crucial step for reaching even higher levels of power.

Kurama lifted the blade higher into the air, "Aisu Shaddo!" These words were the only forewarning he gave before his blade shattered into three dozen long, thin shards of light blue ice. They swirled around him as if dancing, knowing that he was not in any real danger and remaining in a more or less idle state. Kurama fueled his zanpakuto a little further so that his blade reformed before Jack's eyes, the shards still swirling menacingly around the young man with the light blue hair. "This is the true power of a Shinigami, a power you contain within you and your own blade! There are even longer extents that my powers can reach when in battle, though I do not wish to kill the crops that these people spent all season planting!" With a dismissive gesture, the shards broke into a fine powder which floated down to the earth and quickly dissipated, only to return their master's body once more as an icy blue reishi.

The man suppressed his spiritual pressure once more and smiled at Jack, unsure from this distance of what kind of expression the man wore. Hopefully it wasn't one of horror, he usually left it to Squad Eleven members to handle that kind of thing...

For Jack, few things in life surprised him anymore. He's seen a lot. He's seen men throw themselves into impossible fights just to protect those they love. He's seen men butcher helpless innocents for nothing more than to prove a point. He's seen men gather kindred spirits and do unimaginable things. But this did surprise him.

Outwardly, only a flicker of his eyes bespoke of this shock. He quickly regained his composure. Impressive. He then shivered a bit. Damn, never was one for the cold. He looked around and thought for a second about the tree he saw outside the cave, and then about the imprisonment. How much time had passed since his imprisonment? He had to know.

Excuse me, but I have yet another question? What year is it?

"What year...? Umm... By the human realm calendar... 2010? Don't quote me on that... I'm still not exactly sure how relevant time is between the realms... Why do you ask?" Kurama strode back over towards Jack and leaned his back against the tree.

Jack stopped and stared at Kurama. No, that couldn't be right. That would mean I had been imprisoned for... over 800 years! He leaned against a house for support, trying to comprehend such a gap in time. So many things he's known are gone, and things must have changed much. So I have been far removed from my place in the world. Where does that leave me then? He shook his head and started pacing.

Then he rested his eyes on the blade by his side. In truth, it was the first blade he ever held, reforged several times over the years. He never named it, but it had always been a valiant partner, ever ready to help and never failing him in his need. He drew his sword and examined it closely. It looked to be the same as ever, nicked and scratched, with a worn leather grip. But for the first time, he sensed a sort of connection with it.

I am a warrior. I was raised as one, lived as one, and even died as one. I refuse to waste away in a shack while my strength and skills diminish and fade away. That is not how I want to live, even after dying. I am a warrior, and warriors die in battle, sword in hand and drenched in blood.

Jack turned to Kurama, sheathing his sword as he did so. Kurama, I plan on leaving. I am a warrior, and a warrior needs to fight to keep his edge, not sit around in a shack doing nothing.

"Leave? What do you mean leave? Where would you go? Assuming that you'd even be able to find a way out of the Soul Society. It's a place of resting Jack, there really isn't anything else you can do besides wait for your chance at a new life in the human realm... That is... Unless you want to join the Gotei Thirteen. You already have a zanpakuto some how... I'm sure that there would be a way to pass you through the academy and put you on the registration list for a squad."

It wasn't a common thing but it wasn't entirely unheard of for rogue shinigami to be accepted into the academy for a short crash course of sorts then graduating into a squad within a few weeks. This man didn't seem the type to exist in the Rukongai for the next several decades to Kurama anyway, from the moment he saw him he knew this would only be a temporary solution...

Academy? And Go tie thirteen? What are you going on about. Kurama then explained to him the purpose of the Academy and the Gotei Thirteen. After taking a few minutes to think about it, Jack finally nodded.

Alright, I'll go to this Academy. If the Shinamy are actually fighting large beasts like you say they are, then it sounds like it's worth it. You're not going to make me wear those dresses though, are you? He looked at the robes that Kurama wore skeptically. And those shoes, they have so little leather between feet and ground. Don't rocks and such dig in to your feet?

"Each member of the Gotei Thirteen wears a uniform as I do, I'm sure you'll be made to wear one as well. Though in the Human Realm, go nuts..."

He quit leaning on the tree and took a few steps forward, sheathing his zanpakuto once more. "If you want to go through the work to becoming a Shinigami then we better get you started. The sooner the better, unless you wanted to go dust your shack or something." Kurama smiled as he began heading towards the Shinigami Academy... He wondered what the masters there would say when he arrived with this strange man, requesting admission into the academy...