Home again, Home again.

It had taken a bit of skill, a touch of violence, and a whole lot of luck, but Bloody Jack was once again in England. He was in a Gigai he got from a local man a friend at the academy recommended, and it felt wierd. It was like wearing a tight latex full body suit, only much stiffer. But hey, if it meant he could once again walk among the living, he could deal with it.

His first stop was London, and he was amazed by how much she had changed. No longer were there wooden houses and large stone walls, but large concrete and brick buildings. But that didn't much matter. So after London, he made his way over to Bristol, across the water to Cardiff, up the road to Birmingham, hung out for a bit in Liverpool, and made several other stops along the way. The best part of the trip was the stop at a college lecture on the Crusades. He stopped the Teacher halfway and took over, detailing exactly what the political situation was really like then. With a Ye Olde accent and quite a few expletives. He was a hit, and ducked out before campus security could catch him.

He finally came to Glasgow, and made a proper tour of the pubs. He made a lot of friends, learned a lot about modern living, and also learned that Gigai's can't really take alcohol very well. But hey, he was having a lot of fun for the first time in about a thousand years. So now he was in his fifteenth pub on his fifth day in Glasgow, have a few pints with a couple of guys he met three pubs ago.

Kurama had been making his way east ever since he'd been discovered in Russia by those ranked shinigami. He figured he couldn't go on hiding like this while the Central 46 remained safe behind their walls, sending their minions to hunt him down like a dog. He was going to need some help, people outside the Soul Society... That meant only one person, but he wasn't even sure if the guy still lived in Scotland. Not only that but there was no telling if he'd even help him out. Kurama wasn't exactly honest about who he was with him and their encounter was only brief.

He hopped off the ferry and looked about, taking in a deep breath of air. Kurama would've been here much sooner if it wasn't for the fact he was now stuffed inside of a gigai. He figured he'd be able to travel much more safely if he wasn't walking around with a bright white haori on and a zanpakuto dangling from his hip. It was difficult as hell to get one in the human realm, it wasn't cheap and it wasn't in the greatest of shape. The only thing he was able to pick up was this used model some low rank busted up not too long ago during a mission in Germany. The model was built for a squad eleven member and it was a bit big on him. It was slow and bulky, definitely not something he would've worn willingly. The individual had a light brown buzz cut and a fu manchu, his muscles erupted out of the white short-sleeve shirt and blue jeans.

Kurama spotted a cab pulling up, obviously trying to profit from the group of passengers that just unloaded. He decided to hire it to take him the rest of the way east to Glasgow. He wasn't exactly sure how costly it would be to travel from Edinburgh but he had a little money left from buying the gigai; he just hoped it would be enough to cover the fare.

A few hours later they arrived. The amount the fare came to was shocking, gas prices must've changed a lot since the last time he visited... He couldn't quite afford the fare but the cab driver decided he'd cut his loses and take what little Kurama had, plus his shirt.

At they very least he was here now and that's all that mattered. Kurama started making his way into town, searching his memory for any familiar buildings from his last visit. Hours he spent doing this without any sort of luck until it began raining throughout the city. Finding this man was proving to be harder than he thought. Perhaps... Perhaps he could lure the man to him.

Kurama had already scanned the area of any spiritual pressure, sensing absolutely nothing the entire hunt so he was fairly sure it would be safe to release his pent up spirit energy now. With a burst of frigid air, his spirit energy began to flow through the surrounding area like a raging torrent. The rain froze instantly, turning into hail as it came down on the empty streets. Now he just had to wait and see what happened.

((OOC: Ok... Jack knows since he's sitting right next to me but to anyone else that may be reading, you'll notice this is a bit crappier than my usual posts. I was watching tv the entire time ))

He was just about to order another pint when he felt a really cold shiver run down his spine, followed by a pressing sensation. He recognized this as spiritual pressure from his classes at the academy, and decided he may as well check it out. He stumbled over to a corner table and sat down, checking to make sure no one was watching. Then he pulled out a glove with a skull on the back and smacked himself on the forehead. As the gigai slumped forward onto the table, Bloody Jack was back in spirit form, straightening his sword and brushing off his kimono. He then hopped out of the pub and looked around

He hadn't had a lot of practice at it, but he could guess where the spirit pressure was coming from. Quickly, he ran through the streets, invisible to the human eye. After getting lost a few times, and slipping in what he hoped was spaghetti and not puke, he found what it was he was looking for. An ugly looking dude with a fu-man-chu and an unearthly cold breeze around him was standing on the sidewalk looking as if he was waiting for someone. Huh, well now. Who is this? I recognize the pressure, but... He tapped a foot for a second thinking, then made up his mind. Bending over, he picked up a rock and tossed it at Mr. Fu-Man-Chu.

Kurama had been blinded by his own spiritual pressure, not even noticing the man standing only a few yards from him. The rock stuck him in the ear, causing a loud ringing noise to echo throughout the ear canals of this brute's gigai. "What the- The hell'd you do that for?"

He looked at the man who'd chucked the rock at him. He looked familiar, then it hit him. Almost like the rock, except it didn't hurt this time... "Jack? From the Junrinan district? What are you doing outside of the Soul Society?" He let his spiritual pressure die down so as not to crush the man as he approached.

Ah didnae whant ye te sawnd like ah dunderheid talkin ta yeself, sah ah tawsed a rawk at ye. He then made a puking motion and shook his head. Yeah, I'll never get the hang of a Scottish accent. Ah well. He looked the person up and down again. Alright, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to explain exactly who the hell you are before I explain anything. And hurry up, I don't want the bartender tossing out my gigai if I can help it. Ever since he got turned into a time capsule, he's been a bit wary of people with any kind of power in the living world.

"It's me, Kurama. Don't you remember me? Usually my hair leaves an impression people can't quite for-" Kurama reach for the top of his head as he spoke only to realize he was in the secondhand gigai... not his own. "Right..." A quick rummage through his pocket provided him with his captain's badge which he proceeded to use to reveal his true self.

"That's better." Spoke the shorter man with icy blue hair as he stepped out of the brute's body. "Now, what're you doing in the world of the living exactly. They don't normally send students off alone to visit the local pubs..."

Yeah, they don't. But I was getting bored in the academy, so I jumped ship for a bit. And by a bit, I mean two months. He stretched and yawned a bit. Yeah, ok, so I took a longer leave of absence than I wanted to, but I've missed England's taverns for so long, and that drink you guys have just doesn't taste as good as a good old pint of ale. He looked around at the people staring at the collapsed gigai. Erm, why don't you pick yourself up and meet me at the tavern up the street. I'll be in the back corner. And with that, he turned and headed back to the pub.

Kurama looked around and noticed a couple of men heading his way. 'Most likely seizing the opportunity to pick the pockets of an unconscious drunk in the street.' he thought to himself. He quickly hopped back in his body and stood up, looking back towards where Jack had been standing only to find he was no longer there. The men, noticing the supposed drunk was still awake, turned on their heels and began to trot off in the opposite direction.

"Nice try gentlemen. Find some other poor sod to prey on." Kurama turned in the direction that Jack had gone and began walking towards the sounds of tavern folk. He had popped into about three before he found the one Jack was in, sitting in the corner just as he'd said. A few guys turned towards him and began laughing as he walked in but quickly stopped as Kurama glared towards them. Despite this gigai's ginormous size and odd hair style, it had one or two valuable qualities, chief amongst them being its intimidation factor.

Kurama walked over to where Jack sat and grabbed a chair, calling for something to drink in the process. "So, how've you been? Haven't heard much from you recently, I'm sorry to say."

Oh, well, the academy kept me busy for a good while. Tried my hand at that... kido stuff. Luckily I have eyebrows again. Other than that, I didn't do much more than typical drills and such. But I graduated a while back. And... then got quite bored. He picked up the glass in front of him and gave it a good quaff, then shook his head. After a while, a friend of mine told me about the world of the living as it is now. And I just had to take a look for myself.

Jack took another sip and leaned back in his chair. So after talking to a few people, some luck, and a well planted punch to someone's gut, I got myself a gigai and a trip to merry old London. And then made my way up north. And damn has this place changed. First thing I asked was "Where'd the bloody hell did all the trees go?" You can bet I got more than a few odd looks. But I've been talking to a few people about things, I think I've caught up to the modern world... Computers are still bloody weird though, and so are those cell phone things. Eh, whatever. He shrugged and drained his mug. And then I wound up talking to some blueberry headed twit stuck in a meatsuit that looks like the ugly tree fell on him.

"Right, well I couldn't exactly use my own gigai. I'm kinda wanted dead by central... I was just almost killed again in Russia by a bunch of mid-ranks with flames. It's obvious I'm going to need help or I'm gonna end up just like Ri O'Nocht. That's why I'm here actually, I was looking for a guy I met a long time ago. Was hoping he still roamed these parts but maybe not." Kurama accepted his drink from the waitress and began to sip it as he looked around the room. "I don't suppose you've seen him around have you? He's the only soul reaper around these parts..."

Well, if he's still around, I haven't seen him, and I've made a proper tour. You're the first soul reaper I've seen in three months, to be honest. He motioned the waitress for another, and she brought over another mug and took the old one. Oh, and can I get a cheeseburger and chips too? The waitress nodded and wrote it down, then turned to Kurama. You want something too?

"Sure I'll have the same." The woman walked away and Kurama turned his attention back to Jack. "Well, that's a bit of shit... You wouldn't by any chance consider leaving the Soul Society and join me in my campaign to root out the central 46 and all their loyalists would you?" he said in a half-joking tone but with a serious face.

((OOC: Fuck this pissing around the bush bullshit, the direct approach!))

Jack choked on his ale a bit, and was coughing and beating his chest. Damn, that was direct. Would you like me to steal the captain commander's sword and chop down Yggdrasil with it too? At least wait till we eat before we talk about overthrowing a government or something. He waited until the waitress came back with their food before he would talk about anything. After a few bites, he nodded. Alright, so you're planning on overthrowing the central 46, right? That is not gonna be easy, from what I hear. Hmm....

After a few minutes, he nodded. Fine, I'll help, but you've got to do something for me, as long as we're talking about near impossible things to do. That academy's training regimen was complete shit. I want you to train me to get that bankai thing, and I want the quick and dirty crash course.

Kurama ate his food with zeal. He hadn't enough money to buy much in the way of nourishment during his journey here. Come to think of it... He really hoped Jack was paying for this meal. Once finished, he awaited Jack's response.

What jack said surprised him, this man was more powerful than your average new shinigami sure, but bankai? This was going to be more difficult than taking on Kaiyo in battle... Kurama sighed, "Alright, I think I can help you out... but we're going to have to start with something more within the realm of reach. At your current level, you should be able to call upon your shikai abilities. Though it's likely you just haven't been in enough danger for your zanpakuto to bother giving it to you." Kurama smiled deviously. "That, I can easily fix. Though we'll have to get out of this place. I don't think Sal would be too happy if he returned to find his entire city leveled."

He finished off the rest of his chips and drained his mug. Alright then, better sooner than later. Let me settle the check and we'll get going. He motioned for the waitress again, and asked for the bill. When he got it, he nodded then took out a huge wad of money and counted out about two hundred dollars and handed it to her. After pocketing the rest he grabbed his jacket and stood up. Alright then, let's go.

Sal had moved up in the world. No longer was he squatting in disused homes or warehouses, living in the damp and the cold. He had a nice little apartment in the City Center, paid for by jobs he took on the side when he wasn't pursuing leads on the Twelve.

He never thought of himself as a Mercenary but when someone hands you Twelve Grand and asks you to take care of a guy, or escort a package you don't argue. He was good at it, too good in fact.

He walked out of his place which was just by Tron Gate, the clock tower chiming out the hour, and lit up a cigarette as he headed for his local, wearing his Gigai. Its amazing how something can ruin your night before its begun.

He felt the spiritual energy fill his senses, he recognized it but that didn't mean he trusted it. He picked up the pace, he'd warned anyone who came through here to keep on moving. They didn't listen, obviously.

He followed the faint trail to a nearby pub and pushed open the door, the barman gave him a nod of recognition, he drank in here sometimes. His eyes scanned the room, no one out of sorts, just the usual crowd of old men drinking their pensions away.

Maybe he'd picked it up wrong, he wasn't the most precise when it came to sensing spiritual signatures he had to admit.

He sighed to himself, at least he could get a drink for his troubles.

As Kurama was standing up to leave, he saw the man take a seat at the bar. 'Seriously? How did I miss that? The guy just lets his spiritual pressure flow willy-nilly.' he thought as he approached the man. "Long time no see friend. I was wondering when I'd run into you again..."

The disguised captain turned to his other companion. "Jack, why don't you take a seat. We're gonna be here a bit longer..."

Well, I can see where this is going. Jack sat down and motioned for the barkeep. I want a shot of whiskey, a shot of vodka, a lager and a cider... actually, make that two of each. He waited as the barkeep poured his shots and drinks, and then arranged them in a line and drank or chugged each one in order. After draining his last cup of cider, Jack shook his head violently.

Right then, I'm ready.

Sal turned from the bar, looked this strange man over and then back to his drink. Why did the weirdo's always speak to him?

Sal looked across the bar at the other fellow and gave a mental nod of approval. In Glasgow it was preferable to get as fucked up as quickly as humanly, or inhumanly depending upon the company you kept, as possible.

Sal wasn't so flash, he had an eternity to be shit faced and so he ordered himself a double whiskey and while he awaited its arrival turned back to the man beside him.

"What is it about my face that makes everyone think I'm friendly?" He grumbled. "Sorry mate, you aren't ringing any bells here but have a nice night." Norongachi turned back to the bar as his drink arrived and took a mouthful of the firewater.

Kurama looked around the room, nobody in here appeared to be spiritually inclined. If they were, they were hiding the fact very well. Still... he didn't want to risk doing anything stupid with people around him given his current situation. He leaned in close to the man beside him. "Does the name Kevin Bates ring any bells?" Kurama kept his eyes on the man, should he have been tipped off that he was now a wanted criminal. He couldn't be sure the man wouldn't betray him in return for a small fortune from the Soul Society.

Kurama slowly pulled out his Captain's badge in case he needed to use it to break from this gigai, though he was careful not to let the rest of the bar patrons observe this.

The glass stopped for a split second on the way to Sal's lips when he heard that name. The roving Psychic Detective, who had turned out to be a Shinigami.
The moment passed and he finished off the whiskey in his glass and signaled for another.

"I hope he's well..." Sal said, his voice like that of his one time comrades Zanpakuto, pure ice that could chill the very blood in your veins. He let his eyes flick to the guy at the other end of the bar, the tanned fella, and then turned his eyes forward again and picked up his second drink of the night. "...For your sake."

Well, I'll leave you two ta get ta know each other. I need to piss. Bloody Jack stood up and, right after all the alcohol finally hit, stumbled and nearly fell into the bathroom. Standing in front of the urinal, he got ready to make water when he saw something out of the corner of his eye...

Back in the bar...

As the two shinigami got ready to get into their conversation, both picked up a massive surge of spiritual pressure. With minimal time to react, the word rang clearly in the night. SOKATSUI! Bathed in horrifyingly destructive blue light, the bar exploded, torn to pieces and it's patrons wiped from mortal existence. Outside the now burning remains of the tavern, several shinigami and a member of the Kido Corps stood and watched, making sure no one remained alive.

As the smoke cleared, Kurama could see the fiery remains of the alehouse. Lying nearby was his charred gigai... His spiritual pressure filled the area around him, it had been on instinct he'd been acting, not thinking about masking his spiritual pressure and fleeing. Then again if it weren't for that instinct he'd still be in that flaming heap of artificially created flesh.

Kurama could sense others had survived the blast. Jack... Sal... and an unknown pressure that seemed to have cropped up out of no where. Something was odd about Sal's spiritual pressure however, it seemed... tainted. With hollow energies... what was going on he thought, grabbing his zanpakuto from its sheath.

One moment Sal was picking up his refilled glass of whiskey and the next the world melted away in a blinding light. Something inside him stirred in that very heartbeat between the oncoming destructive wave and the decimation it left in the area around him. He heard the timbers of the bar splinter and swirl away in the stream of energy, the roof groan and shatter as it tried to contain the power rushing to fill the space. The all too brief final sounds of the civilians caught in the crossfire sent from beyond their realm.

In that space between seconds a primal force became his savior, like a dog protecting its master the power of Abaddon ripped from his body and Sal sat upon his bar stool, in the choking dust and smoke in the aftermath, his drink in his hand, barely a drop spilled, and protecting his left hand side from ground to well over his head, facing the door, was a shimmering shield of the deepest black, like the eye of a singularity it seemed to draw in all light from around it.

It took Sal a moment to realize what had occurred, to even register that the bar he had been sitting in was gone and a crater remained. He looked at the bar of living metal extending from his shoulder and the massive curved shield that had saved him from harm.

"That's interesting..." He thought with a cold detachment as his mind raced to process his circumstances and the implications. He looked down at the barman, or what remained of him, and his blood ran hot...like lava had filled his veins.

The shield became liquid once more and slithered back to its anchor point, retreating under his skin like it had never existed. He stood from his stool and reached in his pocket, the soul candy was in his mouth and his energy rushed to fill the void. The blood pounding in his ears so loud that he could hear nothing else, see nothing, only feel the rage that forced his lips apart in a snarl, his brows down in a hideously primal expression that fixed itself beyond the ruin of the bar, beyond the flames that raged all around them.

The whiskey in his hand combusted, the glass melting down his fingers as his fury transformed itself into flames that exploded from him. The Zanpakuto on his back burst from its sheath as its form became that of a Claymore, the great Lord of War residing within its steel hearing the call of battle without a verbal prompt from its wielder.

Sal snatched it from the air without a glance and let his power run rampant, the natural flames around him fled before his own, the raging inferno that pulsed from his body driving towards them, ensnaring them in their grasp and bringing them into the fold as he stalked forward one foot over the other toward the source of his anger.

The outer wall of the building was all but gone, only a few jutting remnants of the foundations marked where it had been. The fire rushed forward with his roar, the primal scream filling the air and giving a voice to the tidal wave of pure destruction that poured out onto the street, thirty feet high it turned what remained of the front portion of the building to ash as it sought his retribution and Sal was running was within it, he and his vengeful flames falling upon the attackers who had cared so little for the lives they had taken in their pursuit of him...

Ugh, what the- hey, why can't I move my arms damnit! Jack was laying on the ground, arms somehow bound behind him. There was a shinigami there, looking as though he was keeping guard. After a few more unsuccessful attempts to release himself, he shouted. Hey! Why the hell am I down here? The shinigami turned around. Shut up you. I was ordered to bind you and keep guard over you. Apparently you can't be trusted in this situation. Don't worry, though. You'll be released as soon as the rogue Kurama is dealt with. Play your cards right, and you may even get a commendation for this.

A commendation for what? It took Jack a second to figure it out. They must have been following him, seeing if he could lead them to Kurama. A small fire lit in his chest.

They used him to hunt down his friend. The fire got hotter.

They were fighting a comrade. The fire blazed even hotter.

They. Used. Me.

You. Bastards. Then with a sudden fury he pulled at his restraints with all his might, and after a brief second, snapped it like he would with frayed twine. Launching himself to his feet, barely noticing that he was out of his gigai, he drew his sword and launched himself at the shinigami. Sparks flew as the shinigami blocked just in time to avoid being beheaded.