The seireitei, a thousand years of Shinigami civilization based upon the bones of their forerunners. Well, not exactly - When their forerunners died, they turned to spirit energies so there weren't actually any bones to bury, but it was a metaphor and metaphors don't always have to make perfect literal sense. Still, this place was built on history, and on the bad days you could actually smell the blood that had soaked into the walls of this great city state. There was something exhilarating about it. but at the same time it had the effect of making people not want to eat their food. It was a good thing they couldn't actually starve to death, Art had often commented, as the poor "vegetarians" within the city would probably have thrown up whenever they tried. It was strange how people could be so willing to kill semi-humanoid creatures such as the hollows and yet be so hesitant to kill something you were going to eat. They dealt with their spirits after they were dead anyway, so it wasn't like they were just going to disappear, he didn't really know what all that fuss was about. That being said, it was awkward to have to eat a pork sandwich whilst the spirit of the pig you killed for it was looking at you judgementally.


Walking through the dusty aisles of the great library, Art could hear the pleasant background noise of his bracelets jingling. He had long since gotten used to it, to the point that it was now a calming white noise, something always playing in the background. He actually got disturbed when he didn't hear it for a long time. However, he knew that people were looking at him for the noise, it seemed people got touchy when you made noises in the library. Still, those who might have been tempted to glare at him or to confront him looked at his captain's jacket and instead kept their heads hidden by their books, the only way he knew that they were still looking at him was that he had been trained for this sort of thing. He was able to tell when people were looking at him, it was like a sixth sense. People often said they were able to tell when people looked at them and that was an actual human ability, but they didn't train it properly
"Well, why shouldn't they look at you, Nii-san? You're one of their leaders, it's your job to be a public figure~" The cute voice said in his head, his zanpakuto talking to him again. Hearing voices in his head... the Shinigami were the only group that were able to do that that WEREN'T crazy.

Regardless of how perfect people considered the science divisions knowledge to be. It was really mostly looking up past research and comparing notes. However the previous science leader before him had not seen the point in adding the books to the data base. It was for this reason he had brought a dozen underlings with him to the grand records. His long black and purple cloak fluttered in the breeze as his bored expression gazed out over the masses of people they passed in the streets. His breast plate marked him as the captain of the 12th division instead of the back of his cloak. On his right hip was the ridiculously long Katana. No matter how much he tried to focus it down in size more it never changed. Some times the wolf within laughed at his efforts and jokingly called him boy. However now the beast of a man was slumbering. He dared not touch the hilt of his sword less her stirred the man wolf. Together they had walked amongst the divisions for over 600 years. And in all this time he had found a center. A confident place where he could quietly rest his temper in place of the mind. He looked over his shoulder with his one good eye to the other scientists. They where a little full of themselves on their own intelligence. Yet he had grown closer to them and their antisocial ways and had proven his own intelligence to be high enough to lead them. The difference was he was hardly socially awkward. Nor did he plot for his own success. Instead he was dedicated to research. For being able to study hollows and the nature of their evolution could help him prepare soldiers for things to come and even predict how battles will turn out. But in order to do this he needed to start from the beginning.

So the doors to the grand records did part. As Ashland stepped through the door he looked around. Before nodding to the oldest part of the records. Recording the first battles with hollows and the survival of the shinigami. "Start there. Be gentle with the books and scan them all into the database. Leave nothing out. " He watched as they moved to obey. Each packing a scanner and a self powered transmitter. About twelve men in white cloaks began to move along the shelves and take down the books before scanning each page of each book. The progress would be slow but he knew that from the start. After all scanning a thousand years worth of writings and hand on accounts of battles. But with any luck these small details would reveal some pattern. Some evolutionary chart. A way to measure the enemy before the enemy was even known. He smiled a little to himself. The bustle of noises nearly hid a jingling noise. Some one wearing jewelry no doubt. But who would wear jewelry to a library? None of his business he thought as he turned to help scan some of the books in the first Aisle. Shooing away the librarian and promising a strict record of every page would be kept and put back as they had been found.

Turning around the corner, not having found what he wanted in this aisle, the aisle seeming deprived of all information attending to the subject that he wanted to study. He had been the captain of the second squad for almost a hundred years by this point, yet he still felt like he had more to learn. Honestly, those who ever begin to think that they no longer have anything to learn are fools, and they will be the first people to die if something should go badly on the battlefield. You can never stop searching for information, and if you've learned all there is to learn about the universe, all the sum of human knowledge, then you go out there and you find stuff no human or spirit has ever before known. New plants, new animals, use your powers to make things for other people to learn about. It was this reason why he was seen as both a hard-ass leader but one who people could trust. He was fair but tough, and he had the habit of never letting people slack off unless they were ill or they actually had a decent excuse. Without one, they would be worked off their feet - The more you work, the stronger, fitter and better you get , as his dad had said. However, talking about learning new knowledge, he turned around the corner and noticed... something interesting.

He had barely even turned the corner when he noticed the face of Captain Irisaki,the captain of the Research and Development department. Their squads weren't exactly the best of friends, despite any personal opinions they might have about each other. the requirement of the second division was to hide certain information from the rest of the seireitei for the good of the seireitei, and the eleventh's requirement was to search for information forever. Whilst he believed that it was always important to find new information, there was also information that was flat out dangerous to know, it was often better for it to be locked up. That might sound hypocritical, but the responsibility of the strong is to know information that is dangerous to know. The problem with eleventh wasn't that they tried to find out information, but that they tried to share said information with the rest of the city, and that would often put people in a lot of danger.  Still, he had a large amount of respect for the captain himself, he had been captain almost as long as Artemis had, which in their line of work was saying something. Sure, he might have to track down dangerous criminals, but Irisaki had to handle explosive (and likely radioactive) chemicals every single day and he wasn't dead yet. They had both beaten the odds.

Moving forwards, his bangle jutting for just a moment as he shot through the area, arriving behind the captain and....  slapping him on the back of his head. If he was able to move in time to react to what was going on, then he would have a chance of dodging, and especially since his bracelet had jangled before he'd moved he had even more of a chance. Giving a winning grin to the man, he spoke with his accent still fully intact. "Good evening, Twelfth. tell me, you here to find out more ways to blow up the city or are you here to get your nose caught in a book?" he asked, his tone seeming dark and rude... before he let a warm smile envelop his face, letting him know it was a joke.

Ashland was quietly flipping through pages on a book when he sensed a flare in power behind him. His perception skills where notable as he himself liked to try and keep track of everything. As for the moment the surge in energy was just plain odd in a library. His yellow eye turned to look just as he heard the jingle of that jewelry again. His yellow eye widening at the intended offense of a palm now heading for his face. Why would some one dare to attack a captain in public? Such things where against the law even for other captains. Perhaps the individual had simply tripped? That would explain the foolishness but not the surge in power first or the speed of which the man was moving. Briefly Ashland considered taking the blow and looking like the more innocent victim and letting the law take over. However he was here in front of half his division. They had not yet taken notice as it all happened in an instant. Probably too fast for them to even see. With that in mind it was not lowly attempt to strike him. This person was fast. So he could not afford to take the blow. Nor would he attempt to block it with out further information. After all if one blocked a blade with his fore arm when he could of other wise dodged. Then he would be at a loss at his own fault. So instead he lifted his book and let it go in the path of the blow to have a controlled item in his hypothesis of the danger. While at the same time he would step to the side. Not just back wards and hoping he would get out of range but judging how most blows where a single direction strike the side step was meant to avoid 80% of probable attacks.

Now that the book had taken the blow for him and he was out of range his yellow eye returned to the attacker. Another jingle as the hands where lowered. A dark voice ringing in his ears. "Good evening, Twelfth. tell me, you here to find out more ways to blow up the city or are you here to get your nose caught in a book?" Well now that was just a rude indication. All explosions had mostly been kept within the labs and those that had not where hardly fatal to anyone. That yellow eye of Ashlands seemed to narrow as he finally recognized the 2nd division captain. He usually made a point of avoiding them and not allowing them into the labs. They did so like to play god on what scientific achievements they would allow him. As if Ashland would allow anything to be created that he could not cut down with his own blade. Still the noted expression on the man was that of humor. Yes then perhaps he meant it as just a playful jest. Very well then. He would try and join this playful back and forth. He moved forward and picked up the remnants of the book he had used to judge the damage of the blow as if studying the amount of power intended for him. His own face lit up into a friendly smile as his crew resumed their work. Ashlands voice was soft and quiet enough not to carry across the library.

"Yes well regretfully no pretty fire works for the lesser minds of today. We are instead recording the known knowledge of everything the Shinigami have discovered into our data base. Well anything you and yours haven't already combed through and deemed the world to weak to understand. But I prefer my books to your shadow games. Much safer and a far lower casualty rate. I wonder with the amount of casualties in your squad on average, Have you taken to stabbing each other to keep in fighting shape?"

The man had reacted in time and had moved his book in the way of the blow. However, because of the relative protection of the book compared to the captain, that meant the slap that Art had launched at his fellow captain was going to have a large impact on the book. Where he would probably have felt it as little more than a sting because of his natural defense, the book got hit by the slap and went flying out of the hands that had used it as a shield, flying in a twirling arc across the aisle and slamming into a bookshelf, shooting a cloud of dust into the air.

Coughing from it slightly, Art felt a little abashed about what had just happened. He could hear the giggling of Yamino in his mind, she apparently found what just happened either hilarious or just plain stupid. Admittedly, it it had happened to anyone else, Art would have probably found it funny as well but he was a little too egotistical to find it funny when he screwed up like that. The librarian came around the side of the aisle, shooting them death glares. She was a strange woman, one who apparently had no fear when it came to her higher ranked people. She was one of the exceptions to the rules of the Seireitei, not actually fitting inside a squad and instead being used as a custodian of a special sector. That was the only reason why she was able to look at them like that without getting ripped a new one.

Something that Art had forgotten since the last time that he'd met Ashland was that this man was a social moron, he seemed to have an even harder time socializing than Artemis did, and that was really saying something. For a moment, it looked like he was going to go on a tirade about how everything that Art had just said to him was offensive. He could have honestly expected something liken that from the stuffy head of Squad 12, but what he did say was somehow even worse. He was calling everyone except for his squad idiots and claiming that Division two had a massively high death rate. Not only was it criticizing their skill, they lived much longer lives than those idiots in squad 11 who appeared to like throwing themselves into the waves of enemies rather than thinking about situations logically, but it was also turning the deaths of people that he led into little more than a joke. There was a difference, he told himself, between joking about explosions or being nerds and about death. If looks could kill, Ashland would be dead right now.

"Not funny, twelfth. I'm sorry, when was the last time you swots got out and actually did something outside of the library or your labs? I don't remember seeing you fighting hollows in any of the latest invasions of earth that they seem to be doing so regularly now. And don't even get me started on your subordinates asking for still living hollows, do we look like the kido corps? We're supposed to be assassins, not glorified couriers. If it wasn't for the good of soul society, I'd be telling you where to go, and you can be sure that it would be filled with demons."

Then, with a tongue filled with acid, he added "Oh, and your squad has a high enough death rate. Seriously, are you testing explosives in your labs every other day? I've heard fourth complaining about having to clear out charred labs again, you need to be nicer to those guys. Maybe you'll find a safer job copying books out, but I somehow get the feeling your subordinates will find a way to give themselves lethal paper cuts"

Ashland blinked at the onslaught of words. But he did not react with anger. Instead understanding slowly filled his eye. His yellow gaze dropping in remorse as he suddenly felt the weight of his own words he had barked out childishly. How often had death been a part of his centuries of life for him to joke about it? How many people had he watched a funeral service for? How tirelessly had he worked for bringing back the .....no he needn't think on that. For he had pushed that project into the deepest and darkest part of the labs. A place only he knew of for he had built it. His heart truly did ache for every one he had failed to protect with his knowledge and proper intelligence before sending them out to the field. So many endless projects exploding as they tried to deny the power that the hollows had. How many times had he walked past the burning corpses of men he had seen smiling only hours before. The sting of tears still in his eyes as he cut down the hollow that had over powered some cooling system or broken through the barrier and began eating his men. The science division was not known for fighting. So he had sacrificed men and women he considered family to the beasts in hopes of lowering casualties in the field.

His gaze would look back up to the man with a tired and aged look. As if he knew all to well what the death rate in not only his own squad but the other squads was like. He turned and moved over to the book picking it up off the ground and bringing it back. The book itself hadn't actually been torn just hit really hard. He could almost feel the mans pent up rage from that blow. If not at him but for the things that they as captains had to witness. He settled the book down in the pile to be scanned before returning his gaze to the other captain. The man was fuming with rage and power. No doubt he was angry at how often he was powerless to save his men. As captains where only allowed to go to the other realms on very special occasions. Ashland often wondered if the captains would be allowed to make one show of force to the hollows that they might not scare them into hiding for a decade. Still as he spoke his tone was soft and the arrogance of sleepless nights and so many dead had turned into exhaustion.

"I understand and I do apologize. My words where quicker then my conscious. My dear captain. I watch every death in every squad as a failure on my part. We ask for live hollows so that we who are typically weaker then the other squads can benefit them with some form of technology or the proper information on their enemies. I don't send my men out and mourn their loss but instead watch them burn as we try so desperately to deny these hollows their power. The smell of blood and burnt flesh haunts my very dreams to the point where instead of sleeping I work through the endless nights. I bury my face in a book but not out of fear. But because some where in these books may be an answer and here at least my men do not tremble for their life's."

The man gave him a look with old and sad eyes. Oh this was not a card that was fair to play, Second! He was still a young man, even if he had been alive for god knows how long. He didn't tend to ask about the ages of his fellow captains because after death time simply became immaterial. But, whether or not he didn't believe in the concept of someone's age actually mattering any more, he knew that this guy had to be older than a lot of them. He was a little more of a novice in terms of captaincy, but they had known each other for a very long time, even if not personally. the older the man looked, the older Ruhe felt himself and that was only going to lead to self esteem problems. then he began his rant about how he felt every single loss on soul society as something that was his fault. If he was still angry, he might have snorted derisively, but unfortunately for Art, he had personal experience in that area and thus couldn't take it lightly.

"You think you've got it bad?" he asked, a little quietly and bitterly, not entirely wanting to talk bad about his own division, especially because it could be classed as sedition which would then set a bad standard for other officers and he would have to arrest them. He did not intend it as sedition, so it was fine on his behalf, but there were many of the lower ranks who would interpret it that way whether he liked it or not. "At least your division is allowed to stick together. Do you know the reason why I got promoted up to captaincy originally, Ashland?" he said, his voice a little quiet and withdrawn as if he felt ashamed of the information that he was about to give out. He had no doubt that Ash already knew about this incident, since it had been the thing that had called the captians to offer him the job in the first place.

"Back when I was a lieutenant, My captain and I were attacking an espada that had threatened the soul society and had attacked several members of your division. We were hunting him down so that he couldn't cause another skirmish between our peoples. However, we underestimated his fraccion. I had to watch my tutor, my second father, one of my best friends die for this job and nobody even mourned him. I killed the one that slayed him and ran away to avoid dying like my training said I should do, and so I was given a reward for exceptional duty, service and bravery in the face of battle, the captain's position." Then leaning back against the shelf he added

"I joined the Second Division to find something that I had lost long ago, I didn't want to lose anything more. But I have to run away and abandon my men if that's what the situation calls for. Eleventh gets to play the hero and stay with the old mantra of "never leave a man behind" but me? I get stuck with the duty of running away and letting people die. Ever had to turn your back on a friend because it was either them or more deaths?" He asked, giving Ash a look that seemed to outshine his own.