v. diet mountain dew

There were many sayings about the moon. That the Sun was your body, and the moon was your soul. That the Moon was so gorgeous, that the very ocean had to hold up a mirror in reflection in testament.

But on top of all of that, the shifting, bright golden eyes of the Vizard held the same loneliness that the moon shielded with its white crust of celestial power. Similar to how Satoshi stood upon a transformer pole, mirrored upon the world like the moon, his white robe reflecting its heavenly rays of mystery.

Scars spread out across the man's body like a painting, symbolizing his battles and his torture in the Seiretei. It symbolized the goal he had to carry out.

His garments consisted of a single white robe open at the chest, with lines of thin crimson and black running across the shoulders. A purple rope was tied around his waist to hold the long Odachi that adorned his his hip, touching his black shinobi pants that matched his shrouded sandals.

The night was young, as were the opportunities that the darkness confined within its shadowed clutches. Veering his head away from the shine of the moon, he decided it was time to move along from day-dreaming. Or night as it were.

Afterwards, the Vizard had shifting across rooftops ever so nimbly with Shunpo. He halted briefly on the edge of a shop, pulling out his advanced mobile device and swiping through to see any informational notifications. Just as he did so, a rather unmistakable reiatsu signature had slipped into the back of his mind as he was focusing on the glass panel that was alive with digital images.

Momentarily, golden eyes ablaze with revenge had pierced towards the description.. A Quincy atop a rather large warehouse, seemingly abandoned. He had met several in his lifetime, one of them being his mentor. Alas, its light and menacing aura was unmistakable to anyone who has come across. But he cared not at the moment, his attention was divided almost entirely towards his personal matters. Perhaps he would figure it out later.

He looked back at his device, tapping a few more markers and scrolling through data-entries, making sure to pull up a list of Quincy that Gage, his informational dealer, had information on. Pulling up a few scanners in the background.

It seemed that there wasn't any new information being updated into the System's logs. Perhaps Gage was occupied with other things at the time, or maybe he was simply staying in his fortress of solitude for the time being to avoid society.

He couldn't blame him, sometimes there was an occasional need to seek something beyond just the goals that drive us to fight. There were the times that fighting just didn't feel like enough.. Though he could say with honesty that he hadn't felt like that in a lot longer then someone should have.

His absorption of data had been cut rather abruptly, halfheartedly spectating as his Quincy company seemed to stir from his presence. A part of him expected the individual to approach, as most people these days seemed to have an increased curiosity. That was made all too clear to him when he asked him, word for word, what he was.

Irony was a funny thing. He had never at one point felt the need to ask anyone about genetic or biological traits, yet had somehow come to acquire an entire linked database with everything he needed to know. The occasional feeling of annoyance had washed over him when the Quincy arrived with the question no doubt on his mind the entire time he watched Satoshi.

Why was it that every time he had taken a stroll into Naruki, or even the smaller Karakura, there was always some random idgit who had the most keen idea to walk up to a stranger and asked in the most blunt possible way. Everyone seemed to do it as if every spiritual being was a distant cousin. The carelessness of this world never ceases to astonish.

His fingers stopped moving after a moment of silence from the question, the images from the phone soon fading until he was holding nothing more then a clear glass panel. Silver hair had lowered along his robe as his head moved downward with a deep sigh, slipping his phone into the opening of his robe. After he was done, he swept a patch of dirt off his robe before carelessly shifting his eyesight toward the newcomer.

His topaz eyes boiled and churned constantly, iris' shifting with burning desire from his past.


"I believe the more common phrase is 'Who'."

"Problem is, I don't see how either questions concern a curios cat Quincy." He grunted, shifting his body to face him.

He wondered how long it would take to cut this quincy down. He leaned his head to the side in thought, momentarily pondering in his head. Just as he was about to come to a conclusion on his own, the Quincy had spoke of "His majesty" and was quite interested in what he meant by such this.

A Quincy with a Monarch? He'd never heard of such a thing before, and that was with a database that was only rivaled by the Soul Society; provided by his information broker, Mr. Mekhanic. A rather interesting Fullbringer.

Perhaps he could inquire as to how a Quincy of relative power has been subject to a Monarch without even being of relative knowledge to the rest of the world. It could disrupt his own plans, or prove catastrophic for others. But just maybe, it could go his way.. What a lovely thought.

"Quite right.. I'm sure any person a Quincy serves is quite the deadly foe. But since I have questions of my own as well at this point, there is the possibility we can strike a deal. How about I ask two of my own questions, then you ask two of yours?

He closed his eyes, hands going into his pockets as he grinned ever so slightly.

He peaked his eyes open, re-kindling the Golden glow in his Iris'.

"First, who is the person that you deem your 'majesty'? And second, how have you managed to hide from the gaze of society?"

The amount of pinpointed deflection that was involved in the Quincy's wording was absolutely astounding to him. Could hardly find it funny with his sense of humor, but there was something about that lack of..'answers' in his answers themselves seemed rather quick and reassured then uneasy.

Even if he did have a moment of puzzled thought, his answers seemed to have been straightforward. It mean's he has already either had time to think about the story and made it up, or he's telling the truth but leaving out key details.

For example, off the top of his head, the actual NAME would have been helpful. But he supposed just the title and affiliation with the Quincy would do until he the conversation was more abroad.

He would have thought there'd be more questios arising from the man; Fortunately for him it was a rather simple answer to a rather simple question. The alias of Vizard was something to be held with the highest honor, yet the worst shame of all races. Never again to be quite one or the other of his respective races, stuck in the center of order and chaos. If ignorance was bliss, then power-absolute was torment.

The Vizard's experience was limited to a rather simple encounter, but one that could bring about many different folds of timelined events.

"That question never ceases to be redundant." He sighed

"Simplicity, really. Shinigami are bound to their own beings, souls with swords of power. While hollows are beings of their own power, drawing from inner essence more so. A hollow can strike a shinigami, and their essence is 'injected'. Forming a sort of virus. And what happens when a virus is left untreated..? You suffer the effects."

Satoshi grinned, taking a few steps closer to the man, his robe bending as his knees went against it.

"Unfortunately, hollow reiatsu injected into a Quincy would kill them nearly instantaneously. Making Vizards and Hollows alike extremely dangerous to them, and vise versa."

"Any other questions, quincy?"

This was..Typical, but he could work with it. Though there was the annoying question that lingered in his synapses.. Why was it that every person in these forsaken realms had to be a friendly-question-asking type, but the only question ever asked wasn't exactly conversation starter material?

These places are never exactly a call for a normal social interaction. But people seem to think the spiritual world is just as culturally inclined to hand out details as much as the human world. Pah, who was he to judge?

The more the quincy spoke, the more it became clear that their worlds were clearly defined differently. Eyes intently locked onto the opposing man's as he scratched his chin, rising to meet his gaze.

He always enjoyed the individuals who didn't show their inner fear.. It gave him the pleasure of wondering what it's like on the inside once you tear them open. Although, it was getting rather late. Another day, perhaps. For now there were more pressing matters that need a clear mind and thought.

Although they didn't appear to have the same out-look at life, it didn't mean he couldn't work with it. In a sudden change of posture, Satoshi crossed his arms and smirked, forcing a fake chuckle out as the Quincy made a comical comment.

"Well no doubt, but the alternative to getting infected and becoming a monster for all eternity, is getting sent to the Soul Society for a noticeably more tedious eternity. One that involves poverty and depression, that sort of thing."

Satoshi's words came in a, 'if you say so' tone of voice.

The Vizard shrugs.

"But pfft, what do I know? It's not like I'm a living breathing example of this 'monster', who also happens to have experienced first-hand what it's like to live in the Seiretei."

Raising his eyebrows, he inhaled deeply.

"Questions...Questions..Ah! Well, how about where your 'home-base' is located? I'm sure such righteous invidivuals wouldn't make one of their own subordinates live in-..."

He peered over at the ware-house the quincy was previously standing on.

"Previously Vizard infested buildings. Owch, the irony." He spoke to himself, peering at his silver cloak as it vibrated from a new informational notification. He'd be sur eto check that later.