Battlelog (solo)

While the sun had long since dropped on beyond the horizon Arawn sat front and center in front of a computer terminal. The eerie glow painted his face a pale blue. He stifled a yawn and reached for his cup sitting on the other end of the desk away from the delicate electronics. Pulling the glass to his lips he found it was empty. If he was more attentive he might have noticed the lack of liquid when he picked it up. Hanging his head in defeat he returned the cup to it's previous perch. Of course this was the third time he had picked up the empty glass. Yes, he was tired. It was so funny it was sad. Arawn shock his head back and forth several time and then slapped his cheeks. Anything to get him out of his daze. It helped to some extent. He had hit his cheeks a little too hard for his own liking, but he figured it had served it's purpose. Sighing he looked back at the screen and keyboard. Data inputting wasn't glamorous, but it was needed. Just like the communications center Arawn took his turn in transferring documents onto the server. Most labs had something close to a stenographer. This person would take their time to document everything done. And then it came to this office and they got to work. After 11 hours of typing even Arawn could feel his hand cramping off. How many pages total had he done? He glanced at the stack to his right and rubbed his temples. Alot, was the short answer, with many more to go. He didn't want to think about it, but he knew it was something everyone had to go through. That brought him little comfort. And so he willed his fingers back to their position over the keyboard. He looked down at the paper trying to find the last line he had been on. Once found his digits resumed their flight across the keyboard tapping the letters and numbers. Arawn's eyes weren't even looking at the screen as he worked. Such typing wasn't that new to him. At times he didn't even have to look down to get his keys on the starting position for typing. Not an amazing skill, but a useful one. He often wished he could play the piano, but lacked the ear for such things. Still it was like music as his fingers taped and slapped against the plastic buttons. A musician in his own right, but not as elegant. This continued for several moments as he focused on decoding the handwriting on the page. Most of the words were easy to figure out, but there were several spots where it looked like a foreign language. Sighing again he bent his head and squinted he eyes at the letters.

Minutes ticked by and he continued his typing. It wasn't long before he stopped again. Ten pages done and many more to go. Still he felt he had accomplished much despite the overwhelming volume of pages remaining. What he didn't finish someone else would take up. Flexing his hands he stood up from his little cubicle. He was not the only one working. That would be insane. There were several cubicles with several people typing away. Private booths to work. Often he wondered why the need for privacy. It wasn't anything too secretive in their work. At least nothing he'd gotten so far. Arawn shrugged the matter off and walked down the isle. To his left and right there was booth after booth. He counted them as he went. Number fifteen and he turned left. Sure enough he found his friend Bryce in his cubicle. Arawn stopped at the entry. The hunchback sat with his back to shinigami. Inside the short man's face was glued to the screen of his laptop. The arm that was on his back was furiously typing at the keyboard at the opposite end of the cubicle.
"Must be nice" Arawn muttered. For once the thought of having an extra limb actually appealed to Arawn. Only for a moment. His statement didn't distract Bryce from his so called work. The red haired shinigami could type without looking at the keyboard. Bryce took it to another level. He wondered how the man knew what to type. That answer came as he saw the headphones on the hunchback's ears. Lucky him. He got a tape to type out rather than pages of text. Still he could only wonder how long it had taken the man to acquire such skill. Probably not long at all. It seemed like his tentacle arm and the one on his back had minds of their own at times. It was odd, but Arawn had long since gotten used to it. Instead of greeting the hunchback he moved closer to see what was getting the rest of his attention. No surprise for him to see that there were people fighting on the screen. Bryce was watching shinigami dueling  while he did his work. For someone so nonathletic to be so fixated on fighting was more than ironic. Still it was better than some of the hobbies other kept. From what he heard Simone liked to keep body parts. Corpses or pieces of them. It wasn't something he had confirmed, but most rumors were based on facts. Without missing a beat Arawn moved closer to see the battle unfold. Not a spectacular match, but his eyes were drawn to the note pad that Bryce was writing in.
"What are you doing?" Arawn asked and the hunchback jumped up and out of his chair. The tentacle arm waved violently back and forth as the arm on the back stopped the short man from falling to the floor.
"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Bryce said after catching his breath. Arawn only smiled. He wanted to say something about the man goofing off during work, but instead looked at the note pad. Sure enough there were names and numbers along the page. This wasn't anything to do whatever work he was putting on the computer behind him. It had to be something different.
"So what are you doing?" Arawn asked again pointed at the page.

Before the hunchback could collect himself Arawn swooped in and grabbed the notepad. Bryce's tendril went almost stiff in shock. The way the man fidgeted when he asked him even more curious. It was a leather bound notepad with evenly spaced horizontal light blue lines across the pale paper. His friend was too stunned to move, his mouth held open as Arawn thumbed through the pages. He stopped when a name caught his eye. One that was familiar or at least he recognized. Having such a bad memory when it came to names for Arawn to remember meant something. But who would forget the name of a captain?






At this point Bryce seemed to recover from the temporary paralysis. While Arawn studied the other pages that followed. The red haired shinigami didn't notice the third arm on the other man's back coming at him. He had just turned to another page when the hand yanked the notepad from his grasp. If he had held on tighter he might have torn the paper. Having recovered his paper Bryce now clutched it to his chest as if it was a life preserver. He looked even more panicked than he had when Arawn had scared him.
"So what exactly is that?" Arawn asked again as small grin on his face. The hunchback was sweating buckets. It was obvious he wasn't supposed to see that at all. Still what he had seen didn't seem too dangerous. Why the strange reactions? If he pushed just abit more he was sure to get the full story out of Byrce. "If you don't tell me, I'll tell the others...." He took a step towards the door before Bryce let out a little squeal.

Although Arawn didn't enjoy bullying Bryce, his own curiosity superseded his compassion. The names and numbers on the page meant something. Bryce's reaction meant he didn't want others to know. 9 times out of 10 anything that went on in the 12th barrack was a secret of some sort. A private matter made public was the last thing anyone wanted. Oddly enough most of what they did never saw the light of day. Despite the various innovations and contraptions their research created; only a fraction was released. The 13 Gotei and the Central 46 were quite harsh in their regulations. But to be fair the items created ranged from useless to hazardous. They themselves sometimes became the guinea pigs for their own experiments; with lethal results. Over time Arawn had come to realize the modifications that many of the squadron did to themselves might stem from such. Had Bryce switched out his arm willingly? Or was it to cover up a mishap with his true limb? It was hard to tell, and had yet to ask. Not that the thought hadn't come to mind. He let that thought fade as Bryce started to stammer. The man was very reluctant to speak. Remaining silent wasn't an option at this point. Lying wasn't going to help either. Not that he could fabricate the truth well with his tentacle waving so quickly

Arawn stepped away from the door and took the seat the hunchback had previously occupied. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk further adding to the other man's discomfort. Of course he really wasn't in a hurry, but if he let up on the pressure Bryce might weasel his way out of the conversation.
"So?" he asked making the final push that the shorter man needed. After a deep breath the man shuddered, but plopped himself onto the other desk.
"I was compiling a list of the active shinigami." Bryce said quietly even though they were the only two in the room he cast his eyes about. Arawn's eyebrow raised in confusion. Having a list of shinigami wasn't reason to be secretive. In fact Arawn was sure they could access such a list at any given time using the computer system found in their division. Maybe Bryce was trying to lie his way out of this. Shaking his head he stood up and headed towards the doorway. The hunchback was on his feet just as quickly. "Wait, wait, wait!" he nearly screamed to hold the shinigami in place."I'm telling you the truth."
"I'm sure you are." Came the retort. "But there's more to it, otherwise you wouldn't be so scared to talk about it." The tentacle wagged even more. "So, what's exactly is the problem? There's no reason for you compile a list of shinigami." He tried to warp is brain around what could be frightening the other man so much. Watching the 13 Gotei was hardly criminal. He could just say he was observing.... it was then that the truth donned on Arawn. It was rather obvious. Since he was so used to the Bryce's antics he had forgotten that the hunchback was tapping into the strange camera system woven through Seireitei. Those cameras gave him access to every corner of shinigami base of operations. Not only that but he was observing captains not just the regular members. Now that was liable to land him into hot water not to mention the illegal surveillance system. Indeed that was the problem. Arawn wanted to smack himself on the forehead for being so stupid.
"Okay, okay" he said returning to the seat. "I get it, why you want to be all quiet about it, but why are you doing it?" It seemed some of the color returned to Bryce. He seemed to relax somewhat.