Underbelly (Arty)

Kurakara town. The world leader in strange. The capital of weird. The epicenter of more whacked out goings on than a German key party in a Bavarian mountain retreat.

This, of course, explained why Sal Norongachi was here once again. Walking down the pretty little streets, minding his own business with a destination in mind. He turned a corner and saw the little bar on the corner.

People didn't see him, they never did because he never bothered with a Gigai, and one woman gave a shudder as she watched a plastic chair being pulled from one of the small circular tables outside the bar as if by magic.

Norongachi took his seat and extracted the spirit phone from his pocket and checked the time. He had 20 minutes to kill before Rio arrived and they could get down to business.

The problem with having no solid body was that he couldn't partake in his favorite past times, namely getting utterly hammered and getting slapped by a strange woman in a bar.

He made a note to add a Gigai to his shopping list and relaxed back in his chair letting the early morning sunshine sooth away the weariness that oceanic travel can cause and then gave a sigh. He hated waiting.

James’ was out in about in the city that he had learned to call his home, simply enjoying some free time before he was supposed to meet Yoko at the dojo. Spotting the bar he smiled, A few drinks and maybe a game of darts, does wonders for one’s mind and spirits. Turning to make his way in he stopped as his senses tingled with the smell of a primal energy that nearly matched his own; Another dragon halfway sealed!? This can’t be good.

Sliding his hand into his duster he let his fingers brush against the hilt of the sword that always seemed to be at his side. As he scanned the area outside the bar for any other dragon-exiles he frowned seeing a rather raggedy looking reaper sitting at the bar instead. Narrowing his senses he frowned even further, that kind of energy only comes from those who are more primal and instinctive than any good reaper should be, most likely they don’t know he is here so he is most likely rouge or a “Special Case” reaper.

Casually walking to the table he walked up to the opposite side of the table and sat down acting normal at first and flagged the waitress down. “Um excuse me miss can I get two boilermakers to start with. I am expecting company but I seemed to have arrived a bit early so it is my turn to buy the drinks.” After the waitress left he looked at the rather ragged looking reaper. So what business is it that you wish to conduct in the world of the living reaper, and don’t even think of lying to me because I don’t like your type at the best of times?

Humans. Happy, blissfully ignorant creatures. He could barely imagined that he was counted among them. These children, who knew not what lay beyond the veil. Bastards, what he wouldn't give to have his weekends back. To wake up hungover in a jail cell with one shoe again.

He smiled to himself as nostalgia cast its wistful spell which was brutally interrupted by...something. It wasn't anything he had felt before, the energies had an animalistic edge to them but they werent Hollow, bount or any of the other super natural creatures he'd met in his long and colorful, blood colored, life.

He turned his head in the direction of the presence and spotted a man walking down the street. Was that recognition he seen? Yeah, the guy knew he was here.

Sal let a brown eyebrow rise up on his forehead, and looked the man up and down as he ordered a couple of drinks.

"The tables taken, you want to meet your friend, find another spot." Sal growled.

James’ simply stared at the reaper, “You know you are rather stupid for a shinigami, I have no friends coming to meet me I simply ordered you and myself a drink. Now I will ask again reaper what are you doing here reaper? I have told your kind before, that if you wish to stay peacefully in this city to stick to the night patrol.” James had an edge in his voice though he was still careful to keep his anger in check, after centuries of forcing it down.

James stayed seated in the chair unflinching at the raw energy pouring off the hostile looking reaper. “Why is it we can’t have a civilized talk like your type is used too, instead of trying to scare me off with sheer rage?”

Sal slipped an arm across the back of his chair and smiled. The words 'highly strung', 'Uptight' and finally 'Douchebag' sprung to Sal's mind when he thought of how to describe the prickly character with the attitude problem.

"Why don't you go and find a friend then," He began when the waitress returned with the two drinks, not even noticing Sal's presence she placed them down in front of James. "My business is my own mate, i don't like to share. I'm selfish that way."

Sal picked up the drink and downed it quickly, there wasn't any point in risking the patrons of this fine establishment freaking out by the sight of a floating glass.

"And who exactly are you anyway? Batman? This isn't Gotham, you don't make the rules and lets face it if the Shinigami really gave a shit they could wipe you and this entire city off the map with less than a handful of people." He said and then added. "We have one thing in common though, Soul Society can kiss both our asses."

The Glaswegian rubbed a hand over his unshaven face, he hadn't slept for what felt like years, all the traveling, all the fighting and preparations for the fight ahead. Maybe he was being over hostile to the guy, he did buy him a drink after all.

"Its been a hard week, i'm not the most sociable at the best of times and you just came on a bad day. So whats with the freaky spiritual energy?" Sal asked, blunt as ever.

James smiled as the rouge reaper confirmed his suspicions, so this rather raggedy looking reaper really is a rouge. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, is that not what they say?” James said finishing his thoughts aloud only to wave his hand through the air as if wiping clean that last remark from the invisible transcript of their conversation.

“Sorry about that mate, my tongue tends to get ahead of my thoughts at times, it’s one of the curses of not living your entire life as a human.” He smirked answering the reaper’s question in a roundabout matter. As he reached over and grabbed his drink taking his time as he kept his senses open alert for any foul play. “Yeah I don’t really like your kind much ever since a sand wielding reaper tried to capture me; thinking me a threat to the entire town and the mortals that reside here.

“Of course, at the time he was probably right I had a problem of losing control and giving into to more primal urges but that hardly justifies an eternity imprisoned in that demandable realm you souls call home.” He frowned thinking of the horrible times when his bestial side nearly took over and threatened to kill all of those he cared about, only to ‘heal’ the softness in his heart he had developed living among the humans for so long. “I mean you start one little fire in London back in 1666 and you are branded a criminal for the rest of history.

“But what of you my raggedy looking friend, why does the SS…” James added a bit of a German flair to his speech with a smile, “…Not welcome you with open arms? Are you not on good terms comrade?” he said with another German flair towards the end.

Sal smiled at the involuntary hand motion and then his expression became thoughtful at the mysterious answer to his question.

"Funny you should say that, i only became a dick AFTER i died. True story." He responded and let the man finish speaking while spying a waiter coming by with, what he hoped, was two whiskeys on a tray. He reached out absent mindedly, still listening to his companion and lifted one off the tray as the booze came within arms reach, he gave it a taste and his nose wrinkled.

It was a blend, a cheap one, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"They've tried that with me a few times but then i guess they figured it wasn't worth the trouble losing anymore men. Hell at this stage I'd say they'd need to send one of the Captains down here to finish me off." He said with no hint of arrogance, he was merely stating the facts as he knew them. He was more deadly now than he had ever been.

The amber liquid sloshed its way down his throat as he took a breath, savoring the fiery burn that caressed his throat and warmed his stomach.

"I know the feeling all too well. I'm not exactly the most calm and collected guy out there." Sal chuckled at that MASSIVE understatement. "Hey, less of the raggedy," He added, even though he did, in fact, look like crap. "Oh i'm sure they'd love me back. One more expendable asset to command. Some wounds go too deep mate, i don't forgive or forget and those bastards have a lot to answer for." He finished, feeling that swelling of anger just under the surface stir at the thoughts. He quelled it with another swig of the cheap ass whiskey and then looked the man over.

"Ya know, they blamed the great fire on some idiot Baker. You must have been pretty pissed when you heard that." Norongachi joked.

(OOC: 200th post...I thought I would get a cake for that or something.)

“Yeah well mortals tend to blame that which they don’t know on other mortals with the vaguest of evidence. When in fact I just happened to have caught the scent of dragon-bane and then the hay fever started and one thing led to another and I had the whole city ablaze.” James chuckled at the story he once considered his worst nightmare. “Guess there was a hunter in the great city that wasn’t a joke, course not all of them get the right info but occasionally one or two of them are the real deal.”

James looked at his watch and frowned as he started to stand up, “I am sorry to be so rude, but I am afraid I must leave, I have a class to teach at the dojo.” James smiled to the waitress as he set the money on her tray without worry of the bill. “I am sorry miss but, it seems something came up and I have to leave, if you happen to see my friend let him know I am very sorry ma’am.” James looked at the reaper and left his card on the table with the address of his dojo on it. “And ma’am if you know anyone that wants to learn to spar I run a little dojo down the way. Feel free to send some students my way and I will do the same for you with my mature students.” James turned heading off to teach the class hoping that he would be seeing his new acquaintance later.

Sal picked up the card and flicked it over before slipping it in his pocket.

"It was good to meet you, if you see any of those Soul Society dogs on your travels tell them Sal Norongachi said 'Eat shit and die' " Sal smiled and let the internal clogs turn for a second.

After this meeting with Rio he was pretty much free, there was nothing left to do here bar head back home to Scotland and finalize his plans before he made his move. That and the words dragon-bane, hunter and Primal Urges had peaked his interest, along with the unusual nature of the guys energies.

"Maybe i'll stop by when i'm finished here. Take it easy....err....guy...i just met." Sal floundered, having never asked the mans name.

James was just finishing up with his normal class and was covered in sweat; as they ended up with an odd number and he had been forced to pair up with one of the students for the sparring round. Watching the last student leave he headed into his secret back room to get a shower and changed. When he walked back into the dojo Clarent was waiting for him balanced unnaturally on its point as if to say “You had your fun training children, now it is time for me to have fun.”

James sighed as he picked he blade up and unsheathed it, slowly spinning it in his left hand as he walked out into the middle of the floor. James closed his eyes and remembering all the training he had in sword styles as he slowly started flowing through basic slashes and stabs picking up speed till the blade was a blur of silver and orange as it whistled through the air.

"You got some moves," Sal said from the doorway of the Dojo, his hands in his pockets and his shoulder leaning against the door frame. "Comparatively speaking i'm sloppy as hell with a blade but i get the job done, somehow."

Norongachi stepped into the Dojo and drew his own sword, in its sealed state Claidheamh Mor was as plain and inconspicuous as any Katana but to Sal it sung, the power it possessed thundering out of its metal like a warcry that was constantly with him.

He stood facing the man, his sword held in his right hand casually its blade pointing to the floor. "I never caught your name."

James spun around his sword pointed at the figure in the doorway, but when he realized that it was his acquaintance from the pub he smiled dropping the blade point towards the ground but still holding it firmly in his hand. Smirking James took a bow to his guest, “That sir is my own fault for not introducing myself, but you may call me James Cadwallader.”

An orange glow started to creep up his asking for its introduction, James winced as the heat started rising until he raised the blade, “And this is the Coward’s blade—“ James was cut off as pain shot through his entire body “I mean this is Clarent, the blade of Fire, and twin to the legendary lost blade Excalibur.” Giving the blade a quick spin he smiled, “And Clarent would like to see what you can do with that blade, if it would be no trouble. Though I need to tell you Clarent’s thirst for blood and battle is insatiable so I really don’t see the need to go full out.”

"I think we both lack in the manners department James, like i said before I'm Sal Norongachi" He said and eyed the sword in James' hand, the thing was giving off some weird vibes and Claidheamh Mor was responding in kind, a thin veil of fire danced across the Katana's blade and then quickly snuffed itself out.

"You've got the big guy excited." Sal chuckled. "Clarent, meet Claidheamh Mor, the Lord of War." Sal said, feeling the glowering presence of his Zanpakuto in the back of his mind.

"Trust me, he would literally kill me if he didn't get to cross blades with you." Sal responded and took up a fighting stance. "Don't worry, i had no intention of going all out. You wouldn't have a Dojo left if i did."

Sal's style had always been, unorthodox, his stance was casual, blade held in one hand down by his side more like a club than a Sword and his body relaxed.

"Whenever you're ready Jamesy"

Clarent actually felt joy as it was raised in preparation for battle, “Well if you are sure that you wish to fight then so be it.” James spun the blade once with a care free turn once and chunked it to the left of the Sal, sticking into the wall. “Don’t worry about the dojo you bum I can repair just about any damage you dish to it, all I ask is you keep the roof standing and four wall intact.”

James dived to Sal’s right his white aura sparking to life as it solidified around his arms forming the claws he once wielded as he slashed at his legs with the right arm; holding his left hand towards Clarent he silently called out to the fire blade. With a jerk the blade flew to his hand the blade aiming to slice at Sal’s other leg. “Expect the unexpected reaper especially when facing a dragon!”

Sal didn't flinch when the blade shot by him and embedded in the wall. Distraction was one of the basic tricks in any fight and he wasn't about to fall for it now.

James came in quickly, a glowing veil of energy covering his arms and taking on the appearance of what Sal could only describe as Talons. The man lashed out at Norongachi's legs and he sprung upwards, the blow sliding under him, and retorted with a roundhouse kick to the mans head and in the same second brought his Katana round to deflect Clarent's deadly advance.

He landed and immediately pushed the counter offensive, his weapon lashing out from the left to right at chest level and then turned the blade and plunged it forward toward the mans neck.

"In every instance in Legend, Myth and Fairytale, Dragons go extinct. I don't think i'm too worried." He grinned manically, feeling the surge of adrenalin pumping through his brains and the ravenous hunger of his Zanpakuto.

James wrapped his fingers around Clarent’s hilt as soon as he felt the contact with his skin and quickly brought the blade up to parry the blade that was headed towards his throat. The blades rang out with steel against steel as the two powers collided. Crap this reaper has me pinned down…Why did I let this happen? James fell back onto his back and aimed a double footed kick at the torso of the ragged looking rouge before he rolled to his feet a little ways away from his opponent.

“You know we didn’t really go extinct; we as a society decided it was best to withdraw from the world. When we left this world your humans were little more than savages that hunted my kind for blood, claw scale and hoard...” James smiled, “though some of us were forced into this form as an exile, stripped of our hoard an honor. So over my long life I took to building a new hoard and because of that I now live in a very well off manner.”

Holding up Clarent he spun it backwards once, “This blade is one of my four most prized possessions of my hoard. Though up until recently it wouldn’t let me even hold him properly. But enough of me reminiscing I believe the next move in this game is yours.”

The double kick punched into Sal's torso and sent him off his feet and crashing into the wall behind him with a sickening crunch of bone meeting stone. He landed on his feet, undeterred and apparently unaffected, and moved back into the fight reaffirming his grip on his Katana as James spoke.

"You talk too much..." Sal responded, all business, he was within attack range in the blink of an eye, he wasn't the fastest Shinigami, far from it, but he was still quick on his feet.

Claidheamh Mor sung as Sal spun in to a chest level slash and twisting the blade with the momentum, so the handle was now overhand instead of under, he dragged the blade upwards looking to carve James from hip to shoulder.

James was enveloped in his white aura as he realized what was to come hearing his opponent’s blade whistle through the still air. His limbs got heavy as the white aura solidified around him forming a humanoid-dragon shell. In its hand it held an orange aura sword representing Clarent. I guess when I enter this avatar state whatever I am holding is represented by my aura or its own in this case. James thought as he floated suspended in the middle of the avatar bring the blade up to block with the flat side braced with his free hand, the avatar mimicked his exact movements without delay.

Still as the blade made contact with the outside of the avatar it felt as if his arms were going to give out, the force from the hit sent James barreling into the wall at the side of the dojo. Struggling to his feet still not used to fighting in the avatar state, “Sorry to dampen the experience, but well I ain’t quite use to fighting with this thing yet; in fact it is sorta last resort to keep me from getting my head chopped off.”

Standing up James’ avatar stood four foot taller than he did with him in the center of it. “Now lets see what this thing can do.” Charging the rouge shinigami James slashed out with the blade hoping to rend the reapers arm from shoulder in his mind he thought he could hear clarent scream for blood as the orange aura slowly crept up his arm.

Sal watched the transformation take hold, it was almost like an armor of sorts with his opponent suspended in the chest of the, and Sal had to admit, Dragon-esque shaped shell.

The smile grew larger when his blow, though deflected, sent James and his frightening creation backwards. The fun had just doubled, he thought pushing forward and skidding as the brilliant orange blade near cleaved his head off.

He pulled his head down but felt the searing heat as the energy weapon traced a thin red line across the side of his head. Sal jumped back and wiped a trickled of blood from the side of his face.

James wanted to bring out the big guns, then he was not one to come empty handed. He closed his eyes briefly and let his spiritual energy traverse the conduit between himself and the wrathful titan contained within his blade.

"Sound the Funeral Bell! Claidheamh Mor!" He called to the sound of a lonesome bell tolling at the edge of hearing, the clash of weaponry and the screams of anguish a merry ditty to the Unsealing of his Zanpakuto.

The Katana's blade glowed white hot and cracks of brilliant red played across its metal, spreading out like a luminous spider web until it finally cracked. The molten metal shattered outwards in a hail of shrapnel as the new blade came into existence, bursting from the old the 5ft 5inch Claymore expanded to its fullest.

Flames flashed to life across its edge, skipping across the metal they snaked up Sal's arms, coiled across his body and consumed him in a flickering, dancing, billowing wreath of natures most destructive force.

"Rock and Roll..." Norongachi said and made his move, closing the distance in the blink of an eye the Claymore flashed out like a blur of silver and flame, striking from all angles at once it seemed, battering against whatever defense James thought he could muster.

James was driven back as the ragged reaper’s blade surged with energy of Fire and steel and bloodlust that rolled off of it. The reaper made his move in a blur as his blade flashed striking the Aura numerous times, each leaving a crack in the aura’s solidified shell. “BACK OFF!” James roared as he retaliated with Clarent; stabbing at the center of the barrage and following up with an upward slash. The pain in his mind was excruciating as the aura started to take its toll on him as his mind cried for him to release his hold on the aura, as his limbs started to grow heavy and inflamed.

As the aura collapsed so did James his leg falling at an odd angle under him with a sickening pop. Laughing he looked at his opponent “That was a great match mate, though I have to say a broken leg was not part of the plan when I agreed to fight you.” Reaching out to the reaper he smiled “Give an old man a hand up will you? I need to set this leg and I would prefer to be in a chair so I don’t fall again.”

All I need is a touch in trust and this fight is far from over.

Claidheamh Mor crashed against the Aura, each time it struck its blade pierced a little deeper. A few more blows in the right spots and he would rip the Dragon to pieces.

The counter attack came dead center and Sal shifted to the side to avoid the thrust and brought his Claymore down in both hands to catch the Slash and holding it for a second before shoving it away with a grunt of exertion.

The strain was obviously to much for his opponent as his armor flickered and then vanished, dumping the man onto the floor unceremoniously. Sal heard the crack of bone and winced involuntarily. That had to hurt.

"Easy there Lizard boy..." Sal said and grabbed his hand in attempt to help him up.

James smiled as he took Sal’s outstretched hand, sorry about this but well you wanted a fight. James could feel the aura roll off the Scottish ghost and start to become one with his slowly he was getting stronger standing he forced his leg back into socket with a well practiced grimace on his face. Using Sal for balance and to maintain physical contact he kept siphoning the reapers seemingly endless supply of energy. I can’t take too much his energy or he might die when it becomes too much for his heart to take.

Letting his leg pop back into place James smiled as he went to drive Clarent’s hilt into the man’s abdomen, and then retreated a few paces back he leveled the blade at the man as his aura crept down his arm solidifying into bracers and gloves. “A lesson all fighters must learn is when the fight is truly over, never show your enemy kindness on the field mate no matter how strong you are.” No more fancy stuff, I will stick to sword basics and as little aura combat as possible. I can’t afford to come that close to blacking out again.

It was like a charge tingled across his hand and the flames around him flickered and began to be pulled toward James. He felt his energy supplies diminishing but not at a rate that was worth worrying about and besides, he was having too much fun. Let the Dragon have his dinner, if it kept him in the fight a bit longer.

The thrust met the flat of Sal's claymore as he quickly brought it front of himself and then he gazed across the distance at James.

"Don't get too cocky sunshine, I'm enjoying myself. Its the only reason you're still standing." Sal smiled, the flames intensifying around his body and then he was gone. Flash Step had never been something Sal had utilized much, he never really had the need his enemies always seemed to come to him, but it was starting to grate upon him that James felt the need to lecture him on battle field conduct.

It was time to show just have far of a gap there was between them.

Sal appeared beside James and his sword was already cutting through the air, the Claymores broad blade burning like a Holy relic as it cleaved toward the mans neck with blinding precision.

James only grinned as the man appeared behind him in a blur, “You’re pretty fast most wouldn’t have been able to counter it, but well I am not most.” James movement was a blur as he avoided the clamore’s fatal kiss with only a light cut on his neck. The burning energy amplified the pain from that one cut, making it agonizing but James was willing to die before he gave the drunk the satisfaction of knowing that. Running his thumb over the cut his aura solidified over it keeping it from bleeding.

I cant match this man with a blade or fist honorably, guess I only have one choice. His aura swirled around him once more forming a sort of armor around his legs and feet. As he blurred again he got in as close as he taking a hidden lotus position James shot his leg towards the man aiming to hit the drunk where it hurt. I really hope reapers can’t have kids because if this kick connects he probably won’t be having any after this.

Sal's surprise was unreadable when his Sword hit nothing but air but...a twinge from Claidheamh Mor signified he had scored a hit, although only partial.

James appeared further away and then was gone again in a blur of super accelerated motion. When he appeared next Sal was caught entirely off guard. He hadn't expected him to move so quickly, nor had he expected him to race in for a direct confrontation.

Sal raised the large blade over his head and then his face went pale, his mouth dropped open and he said. "Fuuu..ucc....kk..."

The sword fell from his grip, his arms still raised, and clanged onto the dojo floor before his eyes began to water and tears streamed down his cheeks. He sagged onto his knees, his upper body perfectly straight, his face locked in the same expression of eternal anguish, the occasional squeak of air escaping his mouth and then fell over like a plank of wood.

"You dirty....son of...bastard....****...wanker....dickbag..." Sal now had both his knees at his chest and was rocking back and fourth on the ground, his arms folded across his legs, and ringing off any and all expletives in his vocabulary, which was extensive.

When he had finished he got back onto his feet and picked up his sword and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "You lousy son of a bitch, i was about to do that!"

"You just made this personal." He said and narrowed his eyes. The ground building began to tremble, the very air vibrating, and from his body sparks of electricity sprung off and hit various points around him while his spiritual output rose to its maximum, causing an explosion of red energy that billowed out from his body ripping up the ground beneath him.

The fire doubled and tripled in its density and ferocity, the roof above him disintegrating under the intense heat turning from a solid to ash with no state in between while the very paint upon the walls bubbled and peeled as the heat wave radiated from Sal's body.

The look in Sal's eyes demanded blood and nothing less to avenge his throbbing companions and by Flame or blade he would have his pound of flesh.