Heated Debate (Sal Norongachi, Spire)

*Cough* *Cough*

Auryuu instantly curled up from his nap as he began to cough violently. His throat was sore, and hurt even more as the coughs seemed to burst out of his neck. Auryuu covered his coughs, which came in bursts, and soon they left leaving him at peace once again. The stars from the outside, lit the darkness that lay outside. The stars seemed to comfort him as he reached for his tissue box laying at the foot of his bed, with a bunch of other tissues, in a small trashcan, with some crumpled papers in it, from the drafts Auryuu had written for his book, that was still in it's infant stages. He turned his head to his humidifier which kept the air clean, and gently turned the knob to turn off the noisy machine.

The air in the room was freezing. Getting up Auryuu's teeth began to chatter, from the suprisingly cool air, that didn't exist a few hours ago, when he had dozed off. Everything lay distraught in the room, messy like Auryuu's sickly common cold ridden body. He scurried over to the switchs location, frantically looking for the switch, to shed some light in the darkness so he could find his clothes. Brief seconds passed as he finally felt the texture of the porcelain switch, flicking it upwards as light engulfed the bedroom. Drawers lay open everywhere, as they revealed a bunch of clothing. He didn't care about the clothes he wore, he just wanted the warmth from the clothes. Auryuu quickly picked out some jeans, and a sweater, sliding it over his skin softly, but rapidly as he tried to get the feel of cold off his skin.

Auryuu opened the door shutting off the light switch as he closed the door to his room, leaving it behind him. He found it was a little hotter outside than in his room for some odd reason. He wasn't tired anymore though. For Auryuu, when he woke up, was usually when he woke up, unless he was extremely mind blowing tired, but that wasn't the case this late in the afternoon. Auryuu hypothesized his cold had been caught on a trip to the human world. Having arrived in soul society after his latest mission he was confined to his room, being labled too sick to do anything for his squad. Auryuu didn't mind this, but he did hate the fact he was actually sick. It had died down over the course of the last few days, but was still pretty uncomfortable for the young shinigami.

The kitchen had a certain charm to it. Auryuu had seen the room once he had stepped out of the bedroom hallway. The house was messy, but was spacious and remote, which was something Auryuu looked for in homes. Auryuu walked his way over to refrigerator, grabbing some milk, and steadily pouring it into a cup he had taken out of the cabinet. His zanpaktou lay on the kitchen table. Auryuu knew his zanpaktou would be furious, but was too sick to care. He continud to drink while eying it. It lay atop the table, undisturbed. A thought crossed his mind, and sure enough he wondered if zanpaktou actually sleeped.

Auryuu slugglishly approached the zanpaktou, as he set his glass on the countertop, placing it down making a loud planting sound as he secured it onto the surface, careful not to let it move and fall off of the thin countertop. Auryuu took step after step as he picked up his sword. Nothing was said, so he just put it under his belt. Being utterly bored Auryuu went over to the coatrack by the door, putting his coat on embracing further warmth. He opened the door, as if by impulse, as he slipped his boots on revealing the snowy environment outside. The path to his house lay snowy, as he pushed through it. With every exhale, his breath took color, blowing across his face as he moved into the warm carbon dioxide.

Auryuu looked around as if he felt something, and quickly shook it off continuing through the snow, but couldn't help shake off the feeling someone was around, and he was being watched, but it could just be his paranoid nature. He hoped it was his suspiciousness, but just in case he secured his blade with his right hand, gripping it, as he gained a false sense of security, through the lions company. "I thought I sensed something strange", the lion said as Auryuu stopped dead in his tracks. "What are you talking about?", Auryuu shifted his gaze to the area around him, looking for the strange presence he felt.

"AN AM AN EVIL SCOTSMAN! AND MAH NAME IS JOCK! AND ALL THE GIRLS ARE GAGGING FOR A PORTION OF MY TEN INCH C-"

The two Japanese men watched with bewilderment as the drunk foreigner obliterated their karaoke night.

"-HGG! SUAES GHGKG HGGH HGHGH! WIUE027UEIWO!"

"What is he singing?" One asked the other, his friend shrugged.

"Hell if I know, I don't speak Portuguese"

"THANK YOU KARAKURA TOWN ANNNNNNNN GOONIGHT!" Sal promptly fell off the stage, crashed into a table, tumbled onto a pretty girl, got slapped, stumbled up and then staggered out the door.

It was snowing. Norongachi hated snow. You'd think growing up in Scotland would have made him a little more tolerant of the powdery white stuff. You'd be wrong, very wrong. He couldn't stand it. The wetness, the cold, the way the flakes fell gently right into your fucking eye! All of it, could go die in a fire.

Luckily he was trashed beyond all that was good and righteous. This suited him just fine, he was a practical man and righteousness seemed like a fruitless endeavour. The black boots of his gigai squelched and skittered in the post fall slush that covered the streets. All that 'beautiful' whiteness stomped away by hundreds of feet until there was nothing but a dirty coating to the sidewalk.

Why the fuck did he ever even come to this little shit stain of a town? The novelty of Japan had worn off for him a hell of a long time ago and to this day he couldn't utter a word in the native tongue which made ordering a beer tedious and bar obliteratingly annoying.

His gaze turned back to the bar as the notion took him and then shrugged it off. Homewards, to his apartment, that's where he was headed with absolutely no adventure or wayward fireballs to be had. Nothing like that ever happened in this utterly insignificant town....right?

Mutters of an incoherent and possibly offensive nature slipped from his bastard tongue and he plodded onwards, trusting the laws of alcoholic navigation to get him home. That plan failed, obviously.

Sal found himself in a quaint suburban street that was as bloody boring as it was forgettable. "Marvellous...spectacular...spirit pressure." The last one took his addled brain by surprise and he found himself staring down the street, his senses seeking out this presence.

Auryuu stood in the dark of night. His eyes still flicked towards the darkness, not getting an exact figure, and not finding a single thing that looked human. The reiatsu he sensed was fierce, as if from a rampaging beast. He felt the warmth of reiatsu in his sick body, which wa already outside of it's gigai to begin with. He soon fluctuated it, falunting it before the presence, hoping to intimidate it with the still premature, reiatsu that lay dorment inside of him.

He kept a firm hold on his blade. His feet stood strong on the ground as he suffled them back, pushing away the inches of snow, as he moved it along the frozen ground underneath him. The ice was thin, and wasn't too battle ready as he examined it, taking a quick glance at the cold surface. His feet glided over it, finally stopping as it gained suitable traction. He let out a sigh as he realized the presence coming forward. It moved closer, as it seemed to aggresively creep up onto him.

A cold wind sent the shivers down his spine, as he wriggled around still standing firm. A smaller voice erupted from his mouth than he planned. "Hello?", he said as it came out like a mouse squeak. The sweat that dripped on hi face, froze to his face, stuck there. He was nervous of this conflict, and drew back even farther. He feared the worst, death. He looked to his arms, as he continued taking step backs. The scars on his arms, from the recent hollow fight. They were a reminder of dying, as he probably would've if it wasn't for the zanpaktou's pep talk. He held to it supported by the unspoken comfort it supplied to him when he was in his most desperate of moments.

"Stay strong", the lion said, as he raged on and about inside the sword. The warm reiatsu, warped inside from the reiatsu. Auryuu knew the vortex of snow was gone, as it left whenever the lion's light flicked on to show the true tone of the room. Pure gold, hope. That's what the room in his zanpaktou was, even though at first glance it was seemingly a desolate snow storm. I will, Auryuu's look turned fierce, as he accepted the pride of being the lions, shinigami.

Was Sal the greatest tracker known to the supernatural world? Hell no. He sucked, this was a well known fact. He could get a feel for a general direction and that was pretty much it, however he found that levelling several square miles of landscape usually flushed rats from hiding.

His bleary eyes peered through the dark, whomever it was was there, ahead...however exact locations escaped him. Most things escaped him really, like diplomacy, under stated humor, fashion sense, high brow comedy and of course the relative effects of alcohol on a supernatural body that could, given enough provocation, explode like an atom bomb in a residential area.

Norongachi pottered onwards, his feet slipping soundlessly across the frozen ground. He managed a dozen haphazard steps before mother nature took a dislike to his face and his inebriated feet skittered from under him, upending the Glaswegian with a chorus of expletives that no respectable gentleman should utter in public.

The mane of brown hair clattered against the equally hard rock underneath and he swore once more for effect and after two attempts got upright, drawing deadly daggers at the offending, inanimate, surface. It was then he heard a voice on the wind, a small voice, pinched one might say as if Darth Vader had taken a disliking to another Admiral and went for the textbook Force Choke.

Sal didn't respond but with a sound to work on he zeroed in on the source and was soon three cars lengths away from the house and the young man. Sal looked him up and down, twice...maybe three times. Truth be told be couldn't see all that well and was currently pulling the patented drunkard technique of focusing with one eye closed.

"Where the crap am I?" He said finally, his voice free of slurs, despite his intoxication, but the evident accent of his homeland hanging on every word.

Gradually his hand slipped the blade out of it's sheath, as he stared menacingly at the distant figure, that had said a few slurred drunken curses. The man had fallen before him, about a few feet away, he pondered about attacking or restraining the strange man, but decided not to, as his fear slipped away from his concious, leaving nothing but a strange curiosity for who this mystery man was. So far out in the outskirts of Karakura, people usually didn't venture, so suspiciousness by Auryuu's part was understandable, especially with the strange spirtual signature that almost possesed him to draw his blade.

It was concealed, maybe not conciously, but it was great in mass, that much he could tell. Auryuu also hypothesized that he was a shinigami due to the familiar reiatsu. He could also guess the man was most likely in a gigai, to have such a sealed presence and be drunk enough to somehow supress it. Auryuu's aura continued to leak out of his body gradually as he tried to state he was a friendly shinigami without using words to display the fact.


"Be aware, I know your a shinigami", Auryuu said as his common cold, seemed to alter the sound of his voice, giving it a nasily tone. He sniffed in because of the snot that began to run. It was nasty he knew, but it would just be strange to not do so. Auryuu's blade now lay out, but to the side rather passively, as Auryuu showed no display of resistance, or opposition. Auryuu's welcome would've been better, but the man was drunk and pretty much on his property, which was a small sign of disrespect to him and to the Lion.

He waited for his responce, with a mixed emotions. He was curious, but the cold outdoors seemed to make him worse and worse. Sicker and sicker, he knew he was becoming, or would become if he was to stay outside. The snow breeze ran across his entire body. It stuck to his face and clothes, as he brushed some of it off with his left hand still observing the scottish drunk.