Making Friends [Rubedo & Ignatius/Closed]

Michael stretched his neck to one side and then the other as he walked down the quiet street of Karakura Town. He had only been living in the town for a few months but he’d come to find it quite pleasant, it wasn’t as rural as his own home but that was because his family owned the land for miles around the O’Donovan Estate. Still it was far quieter than some of the cities he’d worked in back when he was still performing for the public and he was finding he definitely preferred that.

Of course it wasn’t quite as quiet as it appeared. Apparently the Town was a hotbed of Spiritualist activity but, for now, the Quincy had kept his head down. His initial orders were to establish himself first in the local area so he wouldn’t attract the attention of any nosey locals who thought the foreigner was weird. So for the past few months, since his arrival in the Town, Michael had been working as a music teacher at the local highschool. He also helped with their orchestra when he had time but had managed to wriggle out of being the main supervisor for the club. There were some downsides to being a known violinist.

Now, at last, he had been given permission to begin his actual investigation of the area. The first step was some foundation level information gathering. A servant of his family had been in touch to tell him that other Quincy Families had representatives in the Town already so apparently either the O’Donovans had reached out to them or had been approached by these other Quincy. Regardless Michael had been sent an email detailing where to go to meet one, or more, of the representatives from these other families. Apparently whomever this individual was they’d been here for a while and might have something useful to share.

Frankly Michael didn’t mind if the information was poor because just meeting a few more local Quincy was ideal and helped give the Irishman a sense of security. In his experience the Quincy might be a scattered people but they tended to look out for one another, especially the older Clans.

Eventually Michael reached a small, local, coffee shop which seemed designed in the European fashion. Taking a seat the man set his violin case on the chair next to him and ordered a latte. The instrument was the sign for whomever he was meeting to know it was him.

Readjusting his tie and glancing down to check if his suit looked tidy the bespectacled violinist nodded politely and thanked the server for his cup of coffee as he waited for his contact.

The red haired man walked down the streets with his best bud Ignatius while messing with his hair and staring at his phone in the other. His family had contacted him about meeting another Quincy in the area, the details were rushed but the gist seemed they needed a hand in information gathering. Of course, he wore his usual high quality black leather jacket with a white shirt underneath and black pants for this so called meeting. He always had to look good no matter the occasion.

As they neared their destination, Rubedo looked over to Ignatius and said. “It’s been awhile since I had to meet another fellow like this. I wonder how many questions we are going to be bombarded with.” he chuckled bitterly. From the distance he could tell from, this other man seemed to dress up just as well as they did and left a violin case to mark whom they would be seating with.

Rubedo sat down in front of Michael and waited until his partner seated himself before speaking, getting right to the point. “Greetings there, my name is Rubedo. From my gathering you are here for some information. How can we help you then?” he said coolly and folded his arms then leaned back in his chair with a nonchalant air about them.

Karakura Town never ceased to amaze Ignatius, so many people that were so happy to simply…exist, not even live just going about their daily lives. Yet today, once again, he and Rubedo were walking through the town apparently going to meet with someone else from one of the other quincy clans. Yet Ignatius couldn’t quell the annoyance that was stirring in his mind. He’d met many different quincy clans in the time since being given leave to do as he would, his father’s own personal spy… His own hands tightened with how much he had despised those times. Yet, even now it seemed as though his father was still using him as a go between. He’d received a message just as Rubedo had that they were to meet with a local clan to discuss an exchange of information.

“I hardly find this to be an enjoyable experience,” Ignatius replied to Rubedo’s statement about the questions they’d have to endure. “Over the last year or two, I’ve met more families of our kind than I’d sometimes care to speak about. Though with any luck, our mysterious guest will be agreeable and not ask us too many questions.” He sighed, as they rounded the corner and spotted both the café and the violin case, the symbol of whom they were meeting. It was a silly symbol for them to have, as far as Ignatius was concerned, but he wasn’t the one who got to decide such things.

Shortly after Rubedo had found himself a seat, Ignatius sat down in the final empty seat. But, rather than speaking Ignatius simply leaned forward, hands folded. He’d let Rubedo take the lead in their exchange. “I am Ignatius. Pleasure to meet you.”

To say neither man was overjoyed to be meeting him would be an understatement at best. The second man was at least polite but the first seemed downright unhappy to be here. ‘Unfortunate really. It’s such a nice coffee shop.’ he thought to himself with a glance at his rather tasty hot beverage.

Smiling at both men Michael nodded pleasantly. “Good Afternoon Gentlemen.” he welcomed them with genuine warmth. Michael had spent years as a sort of diplomat for his Clan travelled to the other, mostly Echt, European Families to keep relationships up. Even now that he’d moved away from that role the Irishman hadn’t lost that little joy he felt upon meeting other Quincy.

“I am Michael O’Donovan, as I am sure you both know, but Michael or Mike is perfectly fine.” he added while taking a sip of his coffee.

Folding his hands on the table he continued smiling pleasantly. “I am unsure how much you have both been told, much of this arrangement was made by my Family but I shall explain to the best of my ability…” he started, trailing off as a waiter came over to ask if either of the new arrivals wanted anything.

Waiting for the man to leave Michael continued. “The reason I, and my associates, have come to this town was due to a request made by a local small Quincy Clan. They’ve dwindled, and suffered a few losses in recent years, as such they can no longer be active these days. As we know one another they asked if my Family could investigate the signs of growing spiritual activity around this area.” he explained, generally when dealing with other Quincy Michael’s policy was to be as honest as possible then to take matters from there.

“I have spent the past while since my arrival making sure I fit in, getting a job in the local area etc.” he added. Standard operating protocol where he came from for long-term investigations. “However now I have been asked to begin my investigation. However it came to light that some Quincy, such as yourselves, already have some experience with the immediate area which is why I’ve been asked to meet with you today to see if you have anything to share.”

He paused for a few moments to sip at his drink again before continuing. “So in short we would like to cover the current oddities you’ve noticed in the area. Be it other Quincy, other mortal spiritualists and, less pleasantly, the frequency of Hollow attacks or Shinigami tresspasses.” he asked. “As well as anything else, by your own judgement, that you deem worth discussing.”

Michael stopped as the waiter came back with the coffee. “And of course if you have anything to ask me I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

“Very well,” Ignatius said. “Michael it is.” He watched the man, listening intently. Realistically, Ignatius had no intention of ordering anything, though if Rubedo wanted to have some coffee or perhaps a cake, Ignatius could spare that. They still had more than enough money in their budget to spare for such things. Ignatius still regretted the one time that he left Rubedo alone to do the shopping once. The man had come back with several hundred dollars worth of clothes. He couldn’t help but remember such a time and shiver.

Despite his disdain for meeting other quincy families, mostly due to his father’s influence, Ignatius couldn’t deny that Michael was at least well put together. He nodded as Michael spoke. “That makes sense. I have heard that many of the families here in Japan have been suffering significant losses, of late.” He looked over at Rubedo. “It’s one of the main reasons that we were sent here, if you remember correctly. The lord assumed that his headstrong daughter would naturally gravitate towards such a place.” He sighed, shaking his head. “There’s been a lot of deaths here.”

There were a few seconds, as Michael spoke, where Ignatius wondered why in the hell his father would want him to meet with this man. Yet the man spoke of acclimating himself to the area, and Ignatius couldn’t help but scratch his chin in thought. “I wouldn’t have expected any quincy to try and blend into society so completely. While I normally would understand blending in, is that really going to help with the investigation that you’re attempting to undergo?” He shook his head.

“I’m quite in agreement with him,” Ignatius stated, following Rubedo. “I’ve largely only seen Shinigami and hollows around the area, though I have been hearing odd things about humans with all kinds of different powers emerging. I know nothing more about them. I haven’t, however, had any run ins with any other quincy, as of yet. You’re, in fact, the first one that I’ve seen, other than Rubedo of course.” Yet it was then that Rubedo, surprisingly great man that he was, asked the question that had been on Ignatius’s mind. “Agreed. Who, exactly, are these associates of yours?”

Michael sat passively, politely, listening to the other Quincy. He had dealt with many over the years as a diplomat for his Family. Great lords and people utterly unaware of their history, veterans and inexperienced kids. The co-operative and the belligerent. Honourable and treacherous. It took all sorts to make the word go round and thanks to all that experience he had quite the reservoir of patience to draw from when dealing with others whether they were pleasant or not.

As for this particular duo? He hadn't decided which side of the spectrum they fell on yet.

Once they were done he decided to address their comments and queries in order. “Yes I have been concerned about the number of Shinigami in the area, considering our people gathered here it would only take one careless soul to reveal our survival to them.” he said putting down his mostly finished cup of coffee. “And we’re not ready for that.”

Folding his hands on the table before him he smiled, not hiding his amusement at how prickly and suspicious the pair behaved. “A cousin and an ally from Ireland.” he answered plainly. “Good friends.” Good indeed. They’d cornered him when he tried to come alone and insisted they accompany him for his own safety. He loved them both, Aine was as much family as anyone related to him by blood.

Transferring his gaze to Ignatius he nodded a flicker of sadness crossing his otherwise pleasant features. “The Clan we are assisting lost their only young member a few years ago in Europe. We are as close to family as they have left, thus our presence here.” he explained. Michael rarely saw the need to lie to his fellow Quincy, especially not about matters like this, it was important in his opinion that they behave as brethren.

“As for the blending in, well, it’s a rather long term assignment. We owe the Clan in question a lot. Also to certain people it would draw certain questions if they realised I was here not working.” That problem was his fame in classical circles as a young, world class, violinist before his vanishing from the spotlight. In the years since he’d crafted a persona of a man broken by personal grief, his fiancée’s death hadn’t been secret, just the true reason behind it. So he played the former protege who taught modestly as a means to stay connected to his music. Not an unheard of circle in professional circles. “Besides as I said, I am not alone.”

Suddenly he shook his head slightly. “Talking about owe...” he said, opening a side pocket on his violin case. “I was instructed to give these to you.” he said sliding two cheques across the table, both with equal amounts written in the men’s names. There was enough funds there for people to live moderately for a few months so long as they didn’t go wild. “Payment for this meeting from my Clan.”

The O’Donovan's didn't expect service from unconnected Quincy families, it was fair payment for potentially useful information.