Luck be a lady (Taka, Open?)

Somewhere in the 2nd North District

It was late. Well past midnight. And yet the lights in the building's windows glowed brightly. The laughter from within could be heard well outside the building. This that to be the place. Arawn was certain. He circled the building once before stopping at the front door. The building was a gambling hall. Unlike the ones in the further districts this one had a rather modest reputation. If anything it was a bar and club for spirits in Rukongai to have fun and relax after their long day. The reason Arawn was here was for a similar reason.

"Luck." Master Sung had said. "You need to train your luck." This seemed an odd statement. Arawn had been in the middle of training. It was upon the second hour in the now familar rock quarry that his master had approached him and said this. The confusion was quite apparent so the older man repeated himself. "Martial arts isn't just physical, it's mental as well. But along with those two there is the aspect of luck. It is a muscle that many neglect. Your body and mind are at a good level, but your luck is lacking." Arawn had stopped his slow punches to stare at the old man. Had he finally gone crazy? He was telling Arawn a scientist that he had to exercise his luck. What madness. Still Arawn had gone along with it. Truth be told his training wasn't going well. Since obtaining Hyun-Mu and the advance technique Jin, he felt he had reached a plateau. Even after hours of working out and kata he felt no change. Was it the fact his teacher had nothing more to teach him? All that he had left was to refine the moves of Sa Shin Mu to claim mastery? What was it that hindered his improvement? This talk of training luck was perhaps merely his master trying to get him to relax and get his head cleared out. His eyes stared at Master Sung's smiling face. All he could do was shake his head. Against his better judgement he agreed and began searching for a way to train his luck. Thankfully his master has several places already selected. Some of the places were in the far areas of Rukongai. Places Arawn doubted a shinigami would be welcome.

Flashback to the present and Arawn was stepping through the doorway. As the wooden door pushed in the volume of the noise increased. People shouting and making merry for the most part. The room inside was lined with round tables composed of rough wood. At least four chairs around each table, but enough room in between for someone to walk past them. At a glance Arawn counted twelve tables. Over half of them were occupied by men and some women laughing and joking around. Only a few eyes watched him as he moved past the door and made his way to an unoccupied table. As he sat he looked around some more and saw that which he sought. On the far side of the room were several more people huddled around a large rectangular table. Of everyone in the tavern they were the loudest. People shouting praises and curses in each volley of noise. That had to be the gambling table. Arawn was considering how to approach when he noticed motion in the corner of his eye. He turned and his hand slowly reached for a sword that wasn't there. On this trip he had dressed down quite abit. Instead of his usual shinigami garb, he had rather plane brown clothing that was quite similar to the apparel those in Rukongai wore. Loose yet baggy clothes that hid his form. The person that had snuck up on the distracted Arawn was the waitress. It was hard to tell if not for the smock like apron she wore. The young girl was probably barely into her teens. It was shocking to see such a person serving alcohol in such a place, but like most she might be older than she looked. She flashed a professional smile at him.
"What would you like?" she asked the red haired man. For a moment the man was dumfounded. He didn't know what exactly he wanted and didn't know what they had. He considered telling her that he didn't want anything, but he soon realized he was indeed hungry.
"I'll take your special." He replied somewhat hastily. There was no knowing what such a thing entailed, but it was better than looking completely out of place. There were eyes on him, he had to appear natural. The young girl nodded and moved away to northern part of the tavern. The bar was there and a window into the kitchen. Arawn sighed and leaned back into the stiff chair. He'd have the food to settle him down, then attempt to join into the games on the other end.

Tatsu was enjoying the night sky as he was taking his usual trip to the little bar he usually goes in, he wasn't really known there but his face was recognized, he always went there about everyday to get a fill of his sake bottle. He had become to be respected in the area and he enjoyed the enthusiasm that was in that little night spot. The samurai was armed but he knew well not to draw his sword within the building. Straw hat lowered smirk stamped on his face he opened the door.

Glances were shot at him quickly and he was quickly recognized, they surrendered their glances and switched back to the odd figure in the bar, standing in the middle of nowhere. Fairly tall red haired man, oddly enough this wasn't alien to the samurai, he had seen such a person in the past..during his exile. The story of the samurai was known in this place, and the samurai himself was known and some weird eyes were looking at the red haired man, maybe they knew he was a shinigami.

Tatsu on his side, knew..he had met this man a while back during a time where he was lost to himself. Talking a step towards the scientist as the waitress left, the samurai attempted to land a hand on the red haired man's shoulder. ''Well that's a face I wasn't expecting to see here. Must be my lucky day, care to share a drink? My treat.''

The samurai was smilling, there was no hidden intention behind his motive other than share a drink with someone he had met back then. ''I guess this solves a question you had back then..'' Of course, the samurai was making a reference to a question Arawn had asked him a while back, if he had been a shinigami or a human spirit.

Nodding to the waitress who had just noticed him, Tatsu proceeded to walk to an empty table, near the gambling area, he pulled a seat on one side of the table and moved to sit down on another seat on the other side of the table, somewhat inviting the scientist to join him. ''So how about to tell me what's new!''

The room was lively. With people making merry to all side of him. For the moment Arawn merely enjoyed the atmosphere. This was the type of social situations he rarely found himself in. All his time was mainly spent researching and filing of data. It wasn't that he was a loner, it was that he usually worked with small groups. So he continued to people watch as he waited for his food to arrive. Arawn wondered what exactly the special was. Most of the people weren't eating anything. Needing food meant spiritual powers. He had learned that having reiryoku was something few people had. But that didn't stop them from enjoying eating from time to time. It especially didn't stop them from drinking. Some of the men at a adjoining table looked absolutely smashed. Drunk as can be and barely conscious. The man was wobbly in his chair his eyes half open. Silently Arawn wondered how long until the man fell over onto the floor. That question would have to wait as someone had approached him. While he was hoping it was the young waitress with food it was instead a man.

It was a tall gentleman, bigger than Arawn at least, with long dark hair. The man greeted heartily enough. Making him think that they had met before. It was possible. He had met many students during his time at the academy, maybe this was one of them. Arawn gave the man a smile as he settled down into his own chair.
"No thanks, I already ordered something." he replied to the man's request for a drink. Not that he favored liquior. He'd tried to indulge in it, but never really liked the taste. "Nothing new actually. I'm just taking a break of sorts, trying to relax after all the hard work." Arawn said honestly. "What about you? How are things on your side?" He wasn't completely sure when he had met the man, but perhaps he could obtain some clues by focusing the conversation on him. For the most part he didn't seem to mean Arawn any harm.

The samurai sat down, making sure his sheath wouldn't be in anyone's way, raising a bandaged hand to his chin he looked at the red haired man, a smile on his face. ''I'm glad to hear you are taking a break, last time I met you, it was in an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. Since then, I rejoined Soul Society, became a third seat and joined a new division.'' He put down his little Sake jug on the table, it was the same Tatsu always had, some even say it would be part of his zanpakuto, or so the rumors say.

''Don't you remember, last I met you I treated you some rice''

As Tatsu said that the waitress came to the table, a rather large steak with mashed potatoes in a plate which she held in her left hand, and in the other she had a mug of a large sake bottle, which she left on the table for the samurai, she knew he was someone who always payed and she didn't seem to mind leaving him the whole bottle. "Mind if I keep you company? Its rare that I see a familiar face here, and this sake is best when you meet a friend.'' He smiles as if he really remembered the red haired man.

The only thing that had changed on the samurai since their last meeting was a large scar on his chest and neck that was apparent to some point. His spiritual pressure hadn't grown much but the look of the swordsman he has in his eyes never waned, he was a soldier and it was easily seen.

Before the waitress left Tatsu rose his eyes to meet with hers and allowed her a smile. ''Can I get the same thing he did, please'' She flashed her pro smile at him and vanished back into the kitchen. ''I'm Tatsu Chirako, if you still don't remember''

"Ah" Arawn said not quite sure what the man was referring to. Rice of all things? What the hell had happened? For a moment the confusion and the awkwardness of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. It was similar to the time he had indulged in enough alcohol to wake up the next day naked in the middle of someone's lawn. Knowing something had happened, but at the same time not wanting to know. He did his best to recover his bearing as the young lady returned with the food. A nice slab of meat and steaming pile of potatoes. Truly not what he expected. The aroma seemed only to magnify the growing hunger. He could almost feel his mouth starting to water. Not bad for a shoddy looking place. His companion seemed to be affected by the food and ordered the same. Arawn grinned. Truly amazing the power of food.
He recalled a saying he had heard long ago. "Only two things can bring people together; food and crisis."Of the two Arawn preferred food. The man gave his name, but it did little to stir any memories of the man. Still it was interesting that the man had remembered him. What had he done to leave such an impression on the man? Truthfully he felt guilty that the same couldn't be said for him as well. He felt sorry that he hadn't take the time to commit the name and face to memory. He promised himself he would endeavor to do so now. Tatsu Chirako. Mentally he repeated the name several times like a phone number given or a password to a lock box. With that in mind he reviewed the information the man had given him. They had met in some kind of shack of some sort. He'd had change divisions? That seemed like a safe enough subject to address.
"So what Division did you transfer from? Which one are you in now?" Arawn asked as his hands grabbed at the cutlery in front of him.

He tried to keep some measure of eye contact with the other man as he speared the steak with his fork and began to saw into it with his knife. The blade tore into the meat and a new wisp of smoke rose from the still hot foot. His knife hit the plat having completed it's task and Arawn pulled the chunk of steak away and to his mouth. There was a thin line of pink in the cut of meat. In his mouth it had a bold flavor. As he looked closer he saw that it was a mixture of grilled and fried. He could taste so many flavors mixed together in the seasoning as he chewed. This almost tasted like something he'd found on a restaurant on Earth. Really classy. Shaking his head he scooped some of the potatoes onto the fork and took a bite. Such a light taste of butter. Simple yet delicious. Arawn was beyond shocked at the quality of the food, yet ashamed for thinking it was too good for a place like this. Still he enjoyed each bite he put into his mouth. He resisted the urge to put down his knife and grabbing the steak with his hands. Even if everyone else was acting rowdy he wasn't about to make a spectacle of himself. "Wait, you had left Soul Society?" Arawn asked suddenly realizing what the man had said earlier. "So you were a rogue?"

Tatsu looked at the man, something told him inside that he still didn't remember, he didn't have that look in his face, the look of someone who had just remembered something that had happened a more than a year ago. Tatsu's stomach was starting to growl itself, he proceeded to transfer the content of the sake pint into his own personal bottle, leaving the empty carcass on the side of the table where it could be easily seen. After some time the red haired man seemed to answer the conversation with a question that could push it a little more forward, a good try in the eyes of the samurai.

''I was the third seat of the eleventh division, Kaiyo was my captain.''

Saying that he reached for the bandanna in his hair and briefly showed it to the man in front of him. ''This was hers, she gave it to me'' Some dedication resonated in his voice so much loyalty for that woman had pushed the samurai to do unspeakable things that almost got him killed so many time's it wasn't even funny. The way he addressed the captain was also very direct as if he was close enough to call her by her name, not by her station. ''Right now I'm under Kuro, 3rd seat of the second division.''

The plate of food appeared in front of the pair, more of on Arawn's side though, it only increased the samurai's appetite. ''If its as good as it looks, I can't wait to have my own.''
He laughed a little giving a glance in the kitchen to see if he could spot the chef and spot what was going on in the kitchen. "Yes, I was a rogue, we met on earth during my exile, you were sent by your master to train. At the time you didn't know if I was a soul or a shinigami, and I was wearing an old ripped to hell shinigami outfit.''

So the man had been in the 11th division and then transferred to the 2nd. An odd switch to be sure. Most of those in the 11th squad were still stereotypically strong fighters, and rather barbaric. In comparison the 2nd squad was more along the line of disciplined soldiers. Quite a change indeed. He wasn't sure what had caused the change in divisions, but apparently there was more to it than a simple transfer. The man held the bandana aloft as if it signified something very important. The man transferred the sake into his own container. Inwardly Arawn grinned. Hardly the actions of the 2nd squad's discipline fighters. Still it was wrong to make such assumptions about people based on their personalities. People shouldn't be defined by the company they keep or overshadowed by rumors and reputations. He let the thought drop as he cut himself another piece of steak followed by a scoop of potatoes.

Despite what division the man was in he held the 3rd seat. That itself was no small feat. Below the Captain and Vice captain his man was the strongest. Quite stunning when he stopped to think about it. Arawn himself held the 9th of his own division, but that meant little considering his squad was a group of scientist and researchers. Strength meant nothing. Knowledge, innovation, and creativity were the basis of power. In his mind someone like Bryce, the hunchback hacker and programmer, was stronger than him by a long shot. Although he could beat the man in a physical fight, when it came to intellect, the odd little man could run circles around him. Irony being the man could barely run a lap without running out of breath. He smiled. The man was glancing at the kitchen. Watching someone eat was rarely as fun as eating yourself.
"It is very good." He commented. Arawn took his time in savoring the meat's juices. He coughed, when he realized he hadn't gotten himself a drink to wash it down. He waved his hand fro the waitress as the man mentioned how they had met. Training by his master. That did spark a memory for the red haired man. But from what he recalled he had spent most of his training in seclusion. It had been many days of training that he had successfully obtained Hyun-Mu: Jin. Seeing a tattered shinigami wasn't something that stood out in his mind. Perhaps the man was mistaken? No. It was true he had gone to Earth many times to train. Perhaps he had met him and not anything of it. Either was possible. "My training is far from complete even now." he said aloud.

Finally, the meal had made its way to the table the samurai and scientist shared, Tatsu looked at it and at the waitress giving her a smile as she left, he plunged his fork in the potatoes and took a bite. Tasting the butter and potatoes was something sweet to him, he didn't have much of an hunger, his spiritual strength was really dashing but he always enjoyed eating, as if there was room for much more improvement. ''I doubt anyone's training will ever be done, what do you think?''

Taking his first bite in the large steak that was handed to him, he spotted the waitress coming back with a pint of water. Dittoing the red haired man Tatsu washed down the food with a small sip of sake, that bottle had to last a few days. ''You really don't remember my shack? had a little pond by it and everything..unlucky you I can't show you..it was burnt down sadly..'' A little bit of nostalgia echoed within the voice of the samurai, as if his own home had been burnt down to a crisp. ''No matter, now Soul Society is my home.'' He chuckled as if it was ironic or if it missed a piece to be truly called him, as if he lacked conviction to fight for something that isn't his. ''My training isn't done either, my sword still speaks to me as if I'm an incompetent fool'' He laughed at that as if it was a joke.

Water or some kind of juice would be fine for Arawn. He didn't care either way, but he rather not choke himself while eating without some beverage on hand. He paused his own eating while his companion began to feed. When one trained it was in hopes of getting stronger or obtaining something. It was often a long and tedious path. He took a cup of water and drank deep. A very long path. But Arawn didn't seek power or strength. Well no directly. What he sought was akin to focus both of body and mind. Martial arts a a means to to that end. The man's comment about his zanpukto disapproving of it's wielder made him smile. He too knew the agony of a uncooperative weapon. His hand moved to where his sword usually rested at his hip. He had decided against bringing it. Arawn had though it would make him stand out. Shinigami were welcome at times other times less so. Still he didn't want people to fear nor treat him differently than normal. Thus his commoner garb. But Tatsu had recognized him despite his simple disguise.

"Spirits had a will of their own." Arawn commented. "A mind and a sharp tongue usually." He said with a smile as he put the cup down and resumed his meal. He reminded himself to keep this place in mind in the future. It seemed cozy enough a place to frequent from time to time. "Still." Arawn said after a couple more spoonfuls. "They know us so well, our true selves no less. Perhaps they're correct in their analysis." He did often wonder if the spirit was truly a part of him or part of something else. A power or existence beyond his comprehension. It was mind boggling. Not too long ago he had the pleasure of talking with Mik of the Zanpukto research department. The man was full of theories and hypothesize. Everything from psychology all the way to mythology. That in death man tapped into the potential power of the mind and body, and that energy manifested as the zanpukto's spirit. Making the spirit a type of split personality of the weapon's owner. Arawn wondered what weight such a theory had since the gold dragon had nothing but disdain for him and all that he did. Did that mean Arawn hated himself? Quite depressing when one thought about it. Gods I hope he's wrong. Arawn said to himself inwardly.

Tatsu took a short break to hear the man talk, settling down his utensils, he was looking at the man seriously as if somewhere he understood what the man said. ''Back when I cast myself away from Soul Society, my zanpakuto dissaproved of my poor choice of action, that I had to keep my loyalty to the people I held dear, when I told my sword that, her abilities changed, everything changed about it. It used to be a long katana in its released form, alongside a dagger hidden within its hilt. But now, it changes to the biggest release I have ever seen, with far more...potent abilities.''

Tatsu looked at him trying to see if it would tell the man something in his hypothesis. ''Maybe there is something we are all missing within our selves and...somewhere our weapons tell us what we need to hear to keep going...I don't know'' With that said, the samurai took back his utensils and began to eat again, letting the man in front of him talk a little if he had something to say.

Another bite of food and another drink to wash it down. His mind tried to process the whole of it. Zanpukto and their wielders. He could see how Mik, Bryce's friend, was so passionate on the subject. The mystery there was like a siren song to any scientific mind. The joy of unraveling that puzzle would be fun, but there would be no easy answers. It was slightly creepy to think another creature or entity was living within him. Alien or otherwise. Was he truly a sane man? A spirit being part of him meant he wasn't completely in control of himself. It was almost enough to ruin the good food. Arawn pushed his mind away from it. "You said your zanpukto disapproved." Arawn started after another drink. "Is it possible for a zanpukto to reject it's user? I mean we gain their strength upon reciting their name. Could they restrict said power?" So wrapped up in the conversation he didn't notice his plate was nearly empty. This didn't become clear to him until his utensils hit the plate with a loud *CLANK* Looking down he was surprised. That just went to show how good his food was. Very slowly Arawn lowered the silverware and rested his arms on the table. His right hand reached for the cup. With a small shake he noted there was still liquid left. For a moment the shinigami's hand lingered there.
"I doubt the weapon could rebel outright, but there's a possibility, no?" he said with a frown. Anything was indeed possible. Still Arawn felt a connection to the blade that didn't seem too easily broken. A doorway that once opened was impossible to close. The zanpukto and shinigami were linked in a way that couldn't be severed.