The Solitary Light [Invite]

Nyla had spoken her piece about the matter of the Hollow Bait and summarily dropped the subject right after. Her suspicions were voiced and, judging by the expressions that a few of the other present attendants wore, they were shared but not expressed. Altogether, she dismissed Vance's presence as if he no longer existed the moment she turned to address Raphael. So when the belligerent child began to speak about his supposed innocence, it was ignored entirely. Even when both Meridith and Aine spoke on it, Nyla glossed over it in favor of the plans regarding the rescue of Aine's cousin.

"Agreed, getting that child away from the Shinigami is the main point. And from what this one says, he has get there regardless if the boy helps or not." She remarked, gesturing towards Irvine and affording him a nod of acknowledgement. As if on cue, Raphael spoke up and even managed to vaguely surprise her when he tossed the cigarette to her. Plucking it out of the air, she gave it a cursory glance.

"You got your hands on a jigukucho, did you? I guess you're more resourceful than I gave you credit for, child." She mused while tucking the cigarette into her pocket. Once more her wizened gaze fell upon the de facto "leader" of this gathering, regarding the crimson-haired youth with casual judgment. She was fervent and headstrong, quick to act and emotional. It would require some polishing, but Nyla could recognize the girl's potential.

It seemed, however, that this meeting had become too much for one individual among them to bear. Nyla's usual passive expression held fast as he eyes followed the boy's collapse. Before he could actually hit the ground, both Diarmaid and Meridith had rushed to his aid to offer assistance. That boy had the constitution of a frightened bunny and she was hard-pressed to see him taking part in the fighting that loomed on the horizon, but perhaps he would prove her wrong. There was no need for her to approach them, there was already enough assistance tending to the boy and from what she could tell just from a cursory glance, he had only fainted.

"He's not hurt, just unconscious. Blood pressure dropped too low, I think. Seems the night was too exciting for him." Nyla remarked pointedly. She cast a passing glance at the stack of cards before shaking her head. If she needed to speak with those who mattered that were present, she would find them. For now, she made her way over to the pizzas, eyeing the selections thoughtfully before thinking better of it and instead turning back towards the group in time to hear Diarmaid's assurance to Aine.

"He's right, no need to worry, child. We'll get your brethren back to you, you have my word."

Arata, if her reading of the script upon the name tag was correct, suddenly passed out seemingly right on the heels of her explosive dialogue. Was the man that susceptible to cursing as all that? She shook her head dismissing that thought immediately to be replaced by the notion that maybe he had arrived injured or ill in some manner. They had all been too busy bickering to even notice. With plenty of people to respond to his immediate needs, she held her place so as to not get in the way of those assessing his condition.

Instead she pondered Merideth’s words letting her ire subside in the process. She could not so readily dismiss the charges Nyla had leveled upon Vance, despite her words calling for facts. Leads based on hunches often led to the truth in her line of work. But then they often just produced dead ends. That was the problem. They could ill afford to make a mistake that would not end up with some retraction of an article in the news but had a much more costly price. Their lives depended upon it.

And what would Rónán make of all of this? That was a no brainer to be sure. She would just have to spin it to him straight. These Quincy were going after Michael with or without her participation. Wasn’t it better to have someone along to see after their best interests? Did this ability to enter Soul Society exist even in the Clann’s most secret of archives? It was something so powerful that even on her worst day she could not imagine O'Donovan not wanting to possess such lore. She didn’t question the man’s love for his son, only his willingness to sacrifice him for the good of their people. Gods what a cluster fuck with no certainty of safety no matter what path they chose.

Steeped in her despair, she tried to focus on the conversations before her; to compartmentalize events until it was safe to feel and react with emotion. It was a struggle but it was one she was bringing to reign through sheer force of will. Breathing helped, the thought making her grin a bit and shake her head. Kevin was reassuring and despite his sketchy knowledge in lore, she found him to be one of the most sensible people gathered this night. Given his mother’s reluctance to steep him in tradition, could she really fault his adopting superstition to account for normal Quincy affinity?

It was when the silent one, Raphael began to speak, that she found her mental state to be much more calm and she focused upon the man’s demeanor as much as his words. Nodding approvingly she was glad to hear that he had no desire to be heaped into the category of minion. But what was this factory he spoke of? That bespoke of some corporate bullshit to her mind when at first she assumed this poison was some backyard mad scientist shit. Holy hell, what was going on in the world anyway? He sure had a stick up his ass about the old families though. She couldn’t say his bigotry about them was unearned for she knew first hand how elitist they could be. Being Gemischt...that such a distinction even existed was proof enough.

Much like Kevin, his mother too had tried to shield him from the clans and their constrictive traditions. She was not so indoctrinated in bigotry as to take offence nor try to disabuse him of the notion that SHE was not like that. Words were cheap and to even deny this was a cultural stigma was to live inside delusion and negate the treatment each had endured. She knew that change came slow and more than likely a whole generation of Quincy would have to pass away before real change took hold. Ironically, that probably is where they were...only it would be total annihilation and all would be moot after that.

The Shinigami artifact intrigued her and her eyes trailed its path through the air as Nyla reached out to grab it in her hand. That caused a plethora of questions to rise up. Were they tracked, these butterflies that Shinigami had. Would it act like a homing device? It certainly didn’t look like what was described in the family texts. There were too many unknowns when it came to the powers of the Shinigami.

Diarmaid’s approach broke her thoughts and as he handed her a slice of pizza she realized that she had taken one of Merideth’s cards. She didn't recall doing that and it must have been more reflex than anything. Stuffing the number into her front pocket, she took the slice and said, ”Magic pizza”, she corrected Diarmaid while attempting to lighten up a bit with a jab at Kevin’s expense. She hoped all would be as he reassured her and that they would get Michael back. It was going to be much more involved than that. Only one part of the problem would be entering that realm. But what then? How would they find him? How many would die before they even got close? Would he even be alive? She closed her eyes as her teeth sank into the pizza letting her own superstition bolster her resolve. He was alive, she would know if he was dead. He was alive…

Looking up to Nyla, she swallowed somehow and even put on a smile, though for certain it would be the ugliest smile the world had ever seen for joy never reached her eyes. ”Yes. We can do this”, she murmured while her mind screamed epitaphs at the missing Jessica vowing to kill her if it turned out she was dead.

Arata's eyes began to flutter open as his senses returned to him, greeting him with the sight of two Quincy whose names he had neglected to memorize before his untimely fall. He would likely be more concerned if returning to consciousness on the ground was a new experience for him. He was more irritated with the grass stains that were sure to be decorating his shirt by now. If not for the world shaking revelations that brought about this collapse, it would be nostalgic to a degree. He couldn't ignore that he recalled having a greater tolerance for bothersome news though.

With a tense smile, Arata began to sit up.

"Thank you. I believe I am fine now."

He truly was thankful for the assistance the two of them had given him, though now that he was awake he felt that he no longer needed to have his personal space invaded. Arata made an attempt to return to his feet that only succeeded in making him feel rather foolish as swirling darkness forced him back to his seat. Given his previous experiences however long ago they were, he should have known better.

"I will just stay here for now."

He could not deny that part of the reason he was so quick to his feet was that he was still uncomfortable among his fellow quincy. Their passion and fervor was justified. The actions of those shinigami and the rogue quincy were abominable and even the most extreme actions suggested were well within reason. They had to defend themselves. Who else would save the young woman's cousin? How else could they stop the perpetrator of the hollow bait fiasco from carrying out future attacks of the same nature or even grander. Yet against all logic, when he imagined that armored man being decapitated in the middle of the park by a mob of random people, he struggled to justify it even if Vance had in fact been the culprit. They were well-intentioned, but he could not support their actions in good faith. He would vocalize his discontent, but he was confident that he could not dissuade them at this point. Besides, with his fragile constitution he was of little assistance to anyone.

Arata was at a loss for what to do next. Fight? Hide? Leave? Remain?  What about Hotaru? Karakura? His family? His fiancée? He needed time to think about this that he felt like he did not have. For all he knew a shinigami was going to paying a visit to the library or his apartment the very next day. He sat on the ground with his head bowed. At times like this, all of that education and intellect he prided himself in seemed useless.

He awoke before long eliciting a sigh of relief from Meridith forever striking the back of her mind fear that the Shinigami unleashed a deadly neurotoxin. She smiled softly and nodded to Arata.

"Ah, wait don't ge-" womp. She let out a second sigh this one of minute annoyance and shook her head. "Yeah, take it easy, you passed out, though, I assume this isn't uncommon for you?" Meaning they should know better than to try to rush away. She gave them a stern look but then smiled softly and swept back towards the bench, feeling she had officially chastened her now former patient. The assembled crowd was winding down, perhaps they'd enjoy the pizza that Kevin had though to bring (pizza? really? I was going for a mood) and hopefully something like a camaraderie would show.

Not her though. Short and sweet, the idea of them meeting out in the open was a risk and while she was content to see what idiot would stumble upon them to enact some kind of Shinigami justice and meet immediate obliteration she didn't intend to drag this out much longer than needed. More importantly, she knew the greatest impression she could leave them with was the least.

She nodded to the assembled. "Thank you for coming, for taking this chance. So many of us have been so long divided, one people spread across the world, hiding and jumping at shadows. I didn't wish to bring this upon us, but it's here and I know that together we are going to able to face what is coming and overcome it. They thrived on our fear, and I don't intend to give them it any longer. I hope to see you all there, I hope to see more, we could use every bit of strength."

She'd give Aine all the strength so could muster to get them back.

She spared a glance towards Kevin and nodded, offered a half-wave to the assembled. "Give me a ring, if you're interested in helping or just need a lifeline," she said and turned, and made way to depart. The 19-year-old woman stuffed her hands into the sewn pockets of her hakama and made her way into the night.

Vance left his cards which included the link to his sales website and his second phone number by the pizza boxes and turned to leave. He had an annoyed look on his face for the moment mainly because a lot of this was pretty much how he thought. Everyone wanted to be in charge, but no one seemed to care about focus. Whatever, he thought to himself and wandered out clad in armor in a random direction. He had things to do, and this just made it all a point of focus that he really didn't care about that much.

He had a few new things to make and another idea he needed to try out before these idiots decided to go on a suscide mission. He also had to go, or at least, he needed an invite as someone had the power to get them to Soul Society. Which was a bit weird. The man who had said he could do so wore no Sanrei or Hant. Which confused Vance a lot, where was he focusing his power? How was he? Or even more interesting, how could he traverse dimensions as a human. Then again how did his power work. Vance scratched his head realizing that he had the same questions about himself but they were harder to answer as he walked into the night and away from the group. He also had to go over all the statistics from his phone and uncatalogued a bunch of new stuff. No rest for the wicked, he thought to himself, grinning as he did so. Which reminded him, he should probably call his sister with this information.

Lots of bickering and bitching for not much shown for it; at the very least they’d decided on a plan, and that was…as much of a start as Raphael could really hope for. From the ninja, especially, he’d decided to take whatever she gave as the closest thing to a compliment that he’d receive. He remembered that Vance had told him that she was hundreds, potentially thousands, of years old and he didn’t really feel like getting wrapped up in that. He had, however, reasonably deduced that this whole thing was for someone’s family that, for one reason or another, had been taken by the Shinigami.

That part made absolutely no sense, why in the world would they want to do so? Why in the hell did the Shinigami and quincy dislike each other so much? Why was it that, when he’d been in the Soul Society, he’d felt as if the very ground that he was walking on was wrong? Standing here, though, it didn’t feel much better; these weren’t his people either, they were his mother’s people and his brother’s, but not his. In some ways, this made him yearn for those like him, but there were none like… No. There were tons, the people that walked the streets every day. They were his people.

The one, Meridith, he thought he heard someone say, appeared to be taking on the role of leader of the motley crew assembled. Yes, they could no doubt easily get INTO Soul Society, but this rescue mission they had planned? That was another matter entirely, especially if they wanted to do it stealthily and without any of the Shinigami captains being mobilized. That was the only way that they’d have a chance of survival. He knew that he didn’t need to tell any of them that and so, as the meeting was finally beginning to wind down, Raphael pulled out his phone and sent a text to his mother, saying that she was right about not meeting with other quincy, and then immediately put her on mute. The moment that he’d sent that text he knew that she was going to blow up his phone till the next day, and he didn’t have the energy for that right now.

Thus, Raphael began the long journey home so that he could rest and find a way to prepare, as best he could. They would need EVERYTHING if they were going to do this and him having next to nothing wasn’t going to help, so he’d need to start working on some new tricks as fast as possible.

Diarmaid raised a hand as Meridith set off into the night and smirked faintly as a thought crossed his mind. ‘The hero the Quincy deserves, but not the one we need right now.’ he thought to himself then paused and reconsidered. ‘Or is she the one we don’t deserve but need. Well something about heroes I’m sure is suitable.’

The Irishman had planned to stick around for more pizza and conversation, maybe getting the guys to go grab a few pints before the night was out but his phone suddenly buzzed. With a frown he pulled the thing from his pocket and checked the caller ID with an expression of surprise. What the hell was his family calling him about? “One sec.” he told those nearby as he strode a little distance away from some privacy.

“Hey man, what’s up?” he asked his brother. The following conversation left Diarmaid feeling more than a little stressed out. The timing was rather unpleasant but it was the subject he didn’t want to discuss. Telling Meridith he’d throw himself at the Shinigami to fulfil her quest for vengeance or whatever was easy, telling Aine he’d run into the Soul Society to save her cousin was no sweat, but telling his parents about it? Nah he’d really rather not.

“Yea… yea sure… yea one hour go it. See you.” he muttered hanging up with a sick feeling in his stomach.

Returning to the others he forced a smile on his face. “Sorry guys I have to run, got a conference call to deal with. You lot should do something together, some team building or whatever ya know? Anyway I need to get back to my hotel now.” he said to the remaining members of the group.

Patting Aine on the shoulder he added more quietly. “Give me a shotu if you need anything.”

Smiling and waving to the others the suited man took off at a jog. “See ya later lads.” he shouted as he swiftly started back towards his hotel. Hopefully he could grab a bottle of whiskey or something before he got back. He needed a drink if he was going to have to deal with the family, even if it was only by video call.

//Thread Exit

Kevin helped Arata come back around, providing him with a refreshing Coke and a slice of pizza to help with what was hopefully malnutrition. He never understood how the Japanese managed to not pass out from hunger more often with their miniscule portion sizes.

He was saddened to see Meridith depart, but expected as much. She wanted to guide them down a new path, and that needed some mystery. If she hung around, how long would it be before someone asked her something she didn’t know and she ended up looking unqualified? Nah, it was best if Kevin bore the brunt of appearing stupid, if for no other reason than to help her.

”Yeah, probably best if we do our planning for the rescue somewhere else,” he said as people started dispersing after Meridith left, ”I know at least one person had to miss, and there must be some others out there who would be interested in joining us. Reach out to your peeps and figure out what’s going on with them and we’ll light this candle when we’re ready.”

After giving Diarmaid a fist bump on his way over to re-pizza, he quickly passed one of the boxes off to him with a reassuring nod. ”You should take a box if you guys are going to be heading out. I might have over-ordered here. Always best to have too much pizza than too little, at least that’s what my coach always used to say.”

Kevin settled in by the cards, pizza boxes, and soda, eagerly handing sets of three out to anyone who would take them. All-in-all, a successful first meeting, he supposed. Nobody had ratted them out to the Shinigami, nobody was going home in a body bag, and no big ass Hollow had shown up to kill anyone. There were a lot of ways this could have gone worse. It was a comparatively pleasant problem to just have a bunch of extra pizza to hand out.

//Thread (probably) Exit

Less than stellar? Aine supposed that would just have to do. Her pleas at the behest of her Clann Leader to not engage the Shinigami head on and provoke their own annihilation had fallen on deaf ears. As a result she had done the only thing left for her to do and that was to take charge of the rescue efforts for her cousin.

And then everyone just drifted off into the night as though they had all scored one for the home team. Shaking her head she approached Irvine, the key to even entering Soul Society let alone finding her cousin, and said, ”We need to talk, but perhaps the rest of them are right. This is not the best time or the best place to do so.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a business card for some phone store where she had purchased a replacement battery, and turned it over to write down her address and number.

”I’d like to make arrangements for us to gather at my home to discuss strategy and get a true sense of what we are up against”, she said a bit worn out from the whirlwind of events that had ended as abruptly as they had begun. All she had were assurances of aid and no real concrete directions in which to proceed. Time was crucial, and while she was very much aware that they couldn’t all go off half cocked, it was less than reassuring seeing everyone drift off into the night with no definite plan when they would reconvene nor attempt this rescue.

Aine knew she was the least among the Irish Clanns in power or prestige. She didn’t actually have a commanding presence nor had she the practical experience in leading others in combat situations. Diarmaid said he would see if any of the Blood would send warriors, he and Nyla both had reassured her she didn’t need to despair, but it was a bitter pill to swallow. It was dangerous to linger this way and she was very much aware that her need to be with others at that moment had more to do with insecurity than practical matters. Putting on a bit of a smile, she bobbed her head and sighed, ”Be safe out here”, before heading out into the night alone.

//exit

Being with the group for considerable time, he found himself with a conclusion: he's not cut out for it. Too much noise, too many dramas. Perhaps a decade and half ago he could shoulder the burden, but back then he was a different man and held different expectations. Regardless of all the people gathering and the revelation of people's identity, only the Irish kid, Diarmaid was the one he managed to retain. He's an interesting kid, quite in your face, but good hearted.

He remained temperate with his presence among the group, waiting for a meat to be seasoned and handed to us all in a platter, but with bickering amongst the group like a cheap soap opera on a 'who-dunnit' phase, Irvine. Never seen, just heard, he's never one to watch TV. The leader, the girl who brought the group together was all over the place, eager to please but the retired wrestler was unsettled by the pace that she's going.

'Slow down.'

Pizza and cola - not even Pepsi, now that body adapted to the sudden bittering cold chill from the group, he saw the world for what it was: Chaos. He even found himself scratching the back of his head after everyone reacted to the young Japanese collapsing. His itch relief's hand shifted over to his precious straw cowboy hat, the brim, shadowed his gaze, he saw one - no - two people tended to him. Baseball guy, Kevin was ready for anything, even to defend.

'Go slower'

This is no good, they all pretend that they are quincy, but they are all acting too casual. His shoulders and back slumped, he felt a little ungainly, but it was met with his own sense of disappointment. They're all not capable of jumping into the wolf den. Their actions were mighty infuriating for old Irvine, mad enough for him to bury his eyes. He quietly muttered, stifling his lips to hide his frustration, his deep voice cracked, "like toy soldiers…"

'going slow is never enough'

He doesn't need to gaze to know that the Welsh lady had departed, even the spear boy, Diarmaid had other things to do. It turned out to be a meek declaration rather than a grand meeting.

"With all due respect," his voice rose answering to everyone and no one. Two people had left but he was still adamant to continue with these troubling words, "if you are thinking of hitching a ride on my route, I have bad news for you."

The woman called Aine approached Irvine, but he didn't budge, his head remained low with the rim still, concealing his eyes to all to witness. She spoke and he righted his hat to show his sharp amber eyes, there a hint of warmth but there a glimmer of concern. Was it right for him to be hasty? To give them hope? The leather jacket wearing gal had a good head on her shoulders, She gave him the business card with her address and concluded the plan til another day.

"It'll be a lot to digest, I would prefer if we talk to Mr O'Donovan together," he replied with a parting raise of hat as she and the baseball fellow, too, had parted ways - their own direction. He then looked over to the group and continued with the previous tangent he had running, "I am not going to take any unprepared fighters to their death. So train. Train as hard as you can…"

He gave the remaining group with a subtle hat raise and began to make his way back to the scooter.

//exit