Retrospective Kyoto [Calendrea|closed]

Calendrea slipped down the stairs of the rooming house, her black and white chucks padding softly down the treads with a quick-time beat, all the way from her second story room to the lobby below. Her pack secured to her back by the shoulder straps, the woman stopped by the front desk to let Osa know she was going to be out of town for the weekend. The owner of the establishment, an elderly lady who rarely moved from behind the counter, barely looked up from the TV. Her game shows, being a way of life, naturally took up the bulk of her attentions. Only upon rare occasions would Calendrea's passing through the lobby and giving her greeting precipitate anything more grand than a grunt or a hand flipping lazily into the air. Still, Calendrea had learned that in order to keep the woman from renting out her room she needed to let her know about extended absences. She wasn't sure if the woman had been joking or not about that; it was best not to put the threat to the test.

Having secured continued lodgings with Osa, she left her to her obsessive pursuit and exited the rooming house. The wind immediately ran up her neck giving her a chill, it was usually a bit higher here along the docks where the buildings did nothing to block and provide shelter from the coastal breeze. Calendrea took time to button up her black pea jacket before stepping off the stoop and out in the street. Her jaunty step caused the pack to bounce a bit with each foot fall to the pavement even though the roll of her arch did much to absorb the impact. Today the woman was going to ride the bullet train, something she had never done before, and she was eager to be on time.

Truthfully, little danger presented itself that she would miss her train, for she would more than likely arrive a good half an hour before required. The young Quincy was not a woman who could abide being late, such things drove her a bit insane and stress just was not on the menu for today. She would save that for the business she needed to conclude. There were just some things she could not risk doing in Karakura Town, not since Jian was hopping up the KSN to be all gung-ho about the Quincy and people using their powers to commit crimes.

As she passed through the streets, cutting west over the Karasu-gawa to the Karakura Honchō Eki, she went over her future plans once more. In order to acquire the information she needed about her mother's clann, she had made arrangements with a local master thief to break into the Quincy Castle in Berlin. She hoped to make off with a book from their private collection concerning her lineage. There was no way she was going to seek out those people her mother had amputated from their lives, from a stance of ignorance. Depending on what was recorded there, she might not seek them out at all. Well, master thieves from the guild known as Phantom's Grave didn't come cheap. Hence this out of town venture had to be successful.

To being the day, she would fence her trinkets then set to work fleecing the huddled masses. Even as she bought her ticket and boarded the train, she was plagued by the illogical nature of the whole affair. Letting her eyes take in the interior, she was struck by how the seats were arranged just like on an airplane. She would have saved herself considerable trouble and expense just by asking Aidan to get her into the library. As a knight from The Order she was certain it would have been easily accomplished. But things were getting weird, she supposed was the right way to put it.

Slipping into a window seat, though no doubt the speed at which they traveled would make viewing the landscape nothing more than an exercise in motion sickness, she had requested one all the same. As the train pulled out from the station, the seating of the other passengers largely went unnoticed for she lost herself in reflection. The frown that etched her features, not to mention the shoulder she turned to the man in the seat next to her, did not invite conversation in the least. This left her free to stew and berate herself for her foolishness as she recalled the night of drinking with the O'Mongans and the Queen. It was the height of stupidity to go to all of this trouble, just throwing money away like this and for what? Nothing more than to keep her feelings in check, for each act of kindness by the man only ingratiated him to her more. She wasn't going to be some stupid trope and fall for her instructor. "Fuck that." she vowed internally, "Pride might just be my undoing, but so be it."

Her need to castigate herself occupied her all the way to Kyoto, so by the time she stepped from the shinkansen to the platform of the station she was in a fine mood. Glowing at the people passing her by, she took a few moments to orient herself to her new surroundings. That was when she chanced to catch sight of an incongruous figure in fleeting glimpses through the press of people pouring off the train. Released from her dark revere by the novelty of the woman, the features of her face began to ease into more of a wistful expression rather than its previous frown.

Naturally what struck her initially was the woman's height, well over six feet if she was an inch and pushing toward seven. Her hair was usually colored, running toward brown with a hint of purple within its hues, and worn in a style more befitting a movie set than any of the modern women she had chanced to meet in Karakura Town. Her loose fitting robe completed the effect though both were without the precise attention to tidiness one might expect upon such a figure. However, it was the crow perched upon her shoulder that drew her attention causing her to intake a sharp breath and feel a slight chill sweep through her body. Her hand went to the silver pendant suspended from her neck upon a silver chain. The index and middle fingers of her right hand smoothed over the knot work surface of the four crows intertwining with one another, the card of the Hanged Man in her breast pocket all the more presently felt. "What is it with me and crows of late?" she silently had to wonder.

Even as the woman met her eyes and turned away, she knew she would follow. Weaving through the crowd, she found her standing apart from the press and flow of people turning to just glance and see if her unspoken invitation had been answered. There was no way that gesture could be anything but. Drawing near she saw the purple flickering of the woman's Reiatsu and cursed her luck for attracting the attention of yet another Shinigami. It was much too late to duck and run now, there was nothing for it but to greet her and hope for the best. "Good morning, Death Goddess," she spoke in moderate tones despite the noise from the crowd and the hum of the train. Avoiding the gaze of the crow, she went on in her plain speaking way, "I do trust there will be no need for confrontation. It's much too nice a day for conflict."


Word Count: 1271

Who does this stranger think she is? She is glad that the girl decided to take her upon the subtle offer to come talk to her in a place where regular people won't eavesdrop, especially on a conversation like this, where only one participant is visible. Yet she also feels more than slightly offended by the stranger's notion to call her a Shinigami. Even worse, she went out of her way to be verbose and refer to her as "shi no megami", which is not only conceited, but also quite vulgar.

What part of her attire or demeanor seems to indicate that she is a Shinigami of any sort? The kimono she is wearing, clearly restitched around the stomach area to accommodate a shredding, is not of the characteristic plain black variety donned by the beings who call themselves gods. The telltale sword that also aids in identifying one is completely absent from her hip, back or any other conventional place to keep it. Combined with her lulling gait, formal yet leisurely demeanor and the bird perched atop her shoulder, this should be sufficient to inform the outsider that she is not what she might think.

But even more curious than this girl's erroneous judgment is her apparent apprehension for Shinigami. Aauin seemed almost amicable when she first encountered him and readily sought her out for the sake of entertainment. He expressed no reason to give the ferrymen a cold shoulder. Could they have wronged her like she herself had been wronged by the Shinigami's masters at one point? The prospect does amuse her quite a bit, given this could potentially be a mutual dislike to bond over, but she does not expect to make a friend here in the human world. She doesn't even consider the man who first guided her into feeling comfortable here a friend, despite his amicable demeanor. She doesn't know enough about him to properly assess him.

Alas, before she can do anything resembling genuine interaction with this girl, the air must be cleared.

"I do suspect you might have mistaken me for something I am not," she utters, smile caught somewhere between a smirk and a placid, respectful grimace, as she pets the back of the crow's head. In return, the avian blinks with its three eyes, left to right, still gazing at the blonde. "Where is my Zanpakutou? Where is my uniform? Why is there a bird perched on me?" She shakes her head, gently patting down the feathers on her familiar's back, while still maintaining the same smile.

"I am afraid I am no Shinigami. Merely a soul trapped in limbo." Her hand lets go of the bird, causing it to ruffle its feathers to puff up and climb back up her shoulder. "Or more precisely, a soul thrown back in limbo. I come from the afterlife." Only now does she look away from her conversation partner, gazing beyond her while reminiscing about the fields and hills of the Rukongai. The sweet scent of cherry blossoms, the taste of a home-cooked stew.

"My name is Tomie Magahara, born on the mainland and raised in a town that used to be here. I can't say how long ago precisely, but..." Her voice trails off as she looks at a departing train. "It must have been a long time ago." Nostalgia lingers in her voice as the unpleasant, squiggly sensation of alienation in her abdomen. Her soft fingers pat at it, the same area that had been cauterized by flames to dull the pain and stop the bleeding, running along the uneven seams of the kimono.

"But my apologies. I gave you my entire history unprovoked." Tired smile, the glinting of eyes fading while Yatagarasu caws into her ear, followed by the slightest of bowing. "What name do you go by, if I might ask?" Truth be told, she sincerely wishes to inquire about the girl's apparent resentment towards what she had mistaken her for, but all in due time.

While it was true that Calendrea's knowledge concerning the Shinigami was grievously ignorant, her usual annoyance with herself over making an erroneous assumption concerning the woman's identity was quite missing. Instead, she felt relief that she had not fallen under the notice of yet another of the self proclaimed Death Gods. Her stiffened spine seem to relax some of the tensions from her form.

This was not say there was no sense of wariness within the woman. The apparition of the entity beside her was quite undefined and could embody a real threat despite not being one of those whom had slaughtered her ancestors. Listening to her speak on, she watched for any tells in her features or posture that might hint and give further clues into the nature of this disheveled beauty and her crow.

Her words seemed placid enough over Calendrea's mistaken assumption, and yet the structure of their placement as well as the rhetorical questions she issued in a series of three hinted at more than that smile would reveal. Was it amusement perhaps or tired resignation? How many similar encounters had the woman endured during the span of her existence? Despite the mission of goals the young Quincy had set for herself this day, she was unable to not pause and seek the answers to these rising questions.

There was a general lack of rancor in the woman's explanation, whatever her feelings the mistaken identity had provoked. Certainly the bird was not unsettled by the exchange and just went back to its perch upon the woman's shoulder. It was every bit as much a curiosity as the soul herself. Was it true that crow's had an innate ability to travel between realms, as the messenger of hidden lore legends claimed? Once again she was reminded that when it came to coincidences that the universe was rarely so lazy.

Be that as it may, Calendrea's fluctuation between superstition and the growing evidence of the supernatural in the world, she could at least be descent and treat the woman with some respect. So it was, when opportunity finally presented itself, that she would speak in a manner that would hopefully permit her to rectify her hasty greeting.

Turning toward her, and for all the world merely looking like she was gazing down the line and into the distance at the expanse of the city, Calendrea said, "Do forgive my error, Tomie Magahara, but thank you for sharing your history all the same." Standing near the woman who towered over her by more than a foot, she was keenly aware that she was probably more familiar with Shinigami and their ways than herself. She had to stifle the impulse to reach out and offer her hand in greeting and instead left her arms to hang loosely at her sides.

The proprieties did have to be observed in life, and no doubt the after life as well. Then it was that for the second time in her life she gave her name after the lineage of her mother rather than her father. "My name is Calendrea Hughes," she quietly announced. Did she not now have the obligation to share with her a measure of her own history? Indeed she felt she did and so went on to say, "I was born in Germany but have recently moved here, or rather Karakura Town, to study among those who are learned among my people." She chuckled softly even as she cast a sidelong glance up at the woman and brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. Calendrea then smiled a bit ruefully and said, "I do hope my obvious ignorance has not given you offense."

Word Count: 617 + 1271 = 1888

Quite well-mannered for someone belonging to a barbaric race. As Tomie ponders the mannerisms of the girl, evidently adopted through her stay in a country far superior to her own, the crow seems to be intent on observing the girl from other angles. While she maintains the same semi-smirk, arms left arm folded over the right elbow, Yatagarasu hops around on the ground, dancing in circles around their newfound companion, observing with all three of his eyes. As his ritual comes full circle, the bird flaps his wings and gently pecks at the blonde's peculiar footwear, then elicits a caw. With awkward flapping and minimal maneuvering, he makes it back to his perch, the summoner's shoulder.

While she certainly appreciates that the girl at the very least can feign interest in her story, brief at it has been, she is more interested in who the girl is, what she can tell her. She had previously engaged with someone who could without a doubt was also was part foreigner, but he had a certain grasp on the way their culture seems to work and even conformed slightly in regards to hair color and attire. What she sees before her consists of mostly unfamiliar material, which granted she has seen on the disgraceful natives that make this their home as well, but combined with the pale hair and skin with a clear pinkish tint, she stands out like a sore thumb.

What sort of story could she tell, hmm? Able to see ghosts as well as having the distinction of being a stranger?

To follow up the insolence of her familiar, she squeezes her hand around the umbral creature's throat, yielding rasping noises from the bird. "Apologies for the discourteous behavior of my pet, miss. He is quite nosy." The hand then lets go, shifty eyes gazing into the red pupils as he submits to his master's will.

Upon hearing the woman introduce herself, Tomie blinks profusely and tilts her head while trying to concentrate. Karandora... Karandora Juuzu? Had she heard right? Names of origins that are not Japanese are difficult to pronounce. This is almost worse than that Mario Micheru Marimomu thing had been, if that even is the right name. "I apologize, but could you repeat that? I don't think I quite caught your name." As huge of a faux pas this is, it's worse to just pretend she did had caught this Karandoro or whatever's name and confidently refer to her with the wrong name. She bows before the gal, slightly deeper than before. "I apologize. I am not much good for foreign names." Nor does she truly want to be, given how filthy they made her mouth feel when she tries to utter them correctly.

The smile she had draped her face in is all but gone at this point, replaced by a blank canvas and huge pupils, darkened by the fascination with these facts about the filth that clearly has invaded a culture she once considered pure. But since nothing seems sacred these days and she has had quite some time to adept to these changes, the giantess doesn't mind much, or at least tries not to. She is not even sure if this "doitsu" place is a real area or if Karandora is mocking her, but judging by the earnest tone, it seems to be genuine. "I'm not much familiar with Karakura Town, I'm afraid. I barely am acquainted with Kyoto and I've been stuck here for months." Her plump lips contort into a fatigued smile, as if running on reserve batteries. "Nor can I say I have ever heard of your homestead."

Even with her back turned to the sun, the dark-haired woman squints due to the light, noticing the changes in the girl's demeanor due to the light. A longing thought goes out to her weapon that also doubled as a parasol, as it could easily shield her delicate eyes from the harsh light. "My ignorance does unto you what yours does unto me. We are at a stalemate, Miss Karendora."

She tilts her head to the right, looking past the blonde woman to see if any of members of the crowd had become curious onlookers, given the situation the two are in. "Do all people from this place you claim descendance--" A clever ruse to avoid repeating its name. "--Possess the capability to see spirits? I was under the impression that it is a rare ability." Curiosity brimming, she knows she had to start somewhere. Fishing like this is her best bet to begin with, and she'd be willing to put out plenty of bait for a lugger. "Perhaps we should go somewhere else to talk? I imagine a gaikokujin such as yourself talking to the empty air will draw some attention eventually."

Calendrea's eyes followed the path of the crow as he hopped about her form causing goosebumps to rise along her arms, and part of her wondered if this spirit beast was about to cast some sort of ward upon her. But then he broke the otherworldly aspect of his dance by doing something typically bird-like when he pecked at her shoe in curiosity, found it unappetizing and cawed his disdain. By the awkward flapping as he lifted from the ground back to the shoulder of his mistress, she could well imagine that he had found the rubber of her Chuck's to be totally revolting and objectionable. She could not help but smile even as her sense of the chills began to subside.

What of his mistress though? Due to the bizarre nature of their interchange, for the sake of some would be observer, she had to keep her overt reactions to a minimum. However, Calendrea was quite amused by the woman's training methods concerning the bird. Still, even though they were both spiritual rather than corporeal, there was no need for such violence upon her part. "Do not think a thing of it, Miss Tomie. I cannot fault him for his curiosity when I too am possessing of such a nature." Seeing as the woman was using her first name in address, she felt it would be rude to not reply in kind.

Even though she was conscious how it might seem to be speaking and gesturing overtly out into space, she felt that the woman's apologetic nature required a level of respect in return. Calendrea was no scholar in the rules of etiquette in modern day Japan, let alone of those era's in the past. All the same, she would have had to have been living under a rock her entire life to not know that a bow received called for one to be given in return. It was purely on accident that she matched her bow to the level she had been given.

Her words came forth as she bent at the waist, and she did not straighten again until she had presented them all. "Please. It is overly long given to me by a mother with high hopes for her child. If it meets with your approval, call me Karu instead." Rising once more to her rather meager height, she smiled up at the woman hoping this gesture had set her mind at ease. Gorou and Osa both had difficulty with her name and had taken to using this shorter version rather than mangling her proper one. Calendrea was unaware of how appropriate the shortened address was both to her nature and behavior.

There was much here that intrigued her and she was delighted to see that the woman held some measure of curiosity in return. Still, she had to wonder at the change in the woman's expression as she looked about the area and then confessed to the short time in which she had been in Kyoto. She could relate, somewhat, or at least she assumed she could. After having been gone from Berlin for ten years the minor changes that had occurred were a bit off putting. How much more so would that be over a greater expanse of time? Naturally she wondered how long ago it had been since the woman had walked n the land of the living. Quite a long long time, if the cut of her clothing and the structure of her words were any indication. Before electricity? Before the invasion of western civilization even? Such things were staggering to consider.

Time was not much of an issue, though she was eager to pawn her wares and set on her quest to Berlin soon. But no one set a time table for her, she could linger and take heed of what the universe was trying to impart. It was best not to ignore the messages less the bitches known as Fate send harsher means of gaining her attention. Either way she didn't think they could get very far in their dialogue if they continued to be hampered by this very public venue. Fortunately, Tomie had come to that conclusion before the young Quincy and had suggested a solution to their impasse.

Not wishing to ignore her probing question, she would answer briefly in the interest of saving the bulk of their dialogue for a less public location. "I am under that same impression, to see is rare but in my family it is not." She knew she was being vague, but at least she had acknowledged her inquiry. Details would just have to wait.

Although she didn't know what a gaikokujin was, she couldn't imagine from he woman's demeanor that it was an insult. Her eyes trailed back toward the main building of the station and she said, "Perhaps there is a park or isolated garden in the city. Someplace where a lone woman resting would not raise too much notice." Surely Tomie has seen such a place in even just a few months of being in the city. She turned her eyes back to the woman and went on to say, "I would enjoy further time in your company. Any place of privacy will be nice that you can think of, Miss Tomie. I will follow gladly."

Word Count: 887 + 1888 = 2775

The temptation to wince at the foreigner's usage of her first name as opposed to her last when addressing her almost overpowers her astonishing self-control--'almost' being the key word in this sentence--as she maintains an approving smile and bobbing her head while nodding at the girl's response. No matter how the girl had reacted to Yatagarasu's improper inspection, he would have been silenced and then manhandled to sanction his conduct; he will have to obey his master's commands, even when they are not being uttered.

She also finds the fact that the girl merely chooses to give up giving her full name once more in such a blasé manner infuriating. What sort of person does she take her for? Some sort of rag-tag teenager with a chummy attitude? "Please. I must insist. Calling a stranger by an affectionate nickname would be most improper for someone..." She's lost, stumbling on what to say to denote just how much the world has changed in her absence. "Someone not from whatever era this is." Despite her usual eloquence, she fails to capture the essence of what has changed and the status quo, resulting in a jumbled mess of a rebuttal regarding the girl's wishes to be referred to by a diminutive.

Perhaps the girl could even catch on to her wishes and the strict, professional system of the last name basis. "So as much as it pains me to repeat myself, miss, I do need to ask what your surname is." She folds her hands over each other, tightening them visibly as to demonstrate how much this discourteous behavior pains her.

"I didn't know spiritual awareness is a hereditary trait." Her eyes glint as they attempt to devour the blonde's visage from chin to forehead, hungrily peering through skin in an attempt to pry at the delicate brains within and the information it contains. "Most fascinating." These last few words are breathy, nigh a whisper as she places her insatiable index against her plump lips, an unhealthy tic she has developed in the human world. Maybe the girl could feed her with an explanation regarding the machinations of this apparent evolutionary trait.

Of course, that would also require her to counter with something back at the girl, of which she has plenty, due to her vast knowledge of the mundane life in the afterlife. Perhaps mortals would find that more interesting than any perspective a Shinigami would be able to provide, given the notable schism of the general population and their bourgeoisie, military overlords. Judging by the girl's hostile reaction towards her when mistaking her for a red-breasted soldier, this information could prove not only crucial, but enlightening as well.

Mutual dislike, common ground. A decent start, far better than the man she had previously run into.

Now to just think of a place where they could receive some privacy. There is that field next to the large pagoda... Hmm. She briefly ponders, audibly muttering beneath her breath as she gazes at the ground, lost in a train of idea and concepts. "We are fairly close to a place called Maruyama Park. It is right next to a shrine called the Yasaka Shrine." The same finger that had been placed on her lips are now pointing across the signs of the station, towards a familiar district in the distance. "We should be able to reach it by walking straight from here and then take the second forked road to the left. Maruyama is quite a pleasant area, though a bit starved of visitors during this season. It's far more popular during hanami."

In other words, perfect for an occasion such as this. She wouldn't usually wish this sort of misfortune upon a public area otherwise maintained with diligent servitude, but today, the wheel of fortune spins in reverse.

She takes a single step forwards, maintaining the same placid smile, crow still staring at the girl with a lingering sense of obsession. "I shall lead the way then. I hope you do not mind a bit of exercise." Her clacking okobo play a defiant concerto only audible to her companion as she weaves through the crowds, heading out of the station, towards a more rural area, occasionally glancing behind her to ensure the girl is keeping up.

Calendrea smiled before saying, "After that long train ride, a walk would be welcome and perhaps I can answer some of your questions along the way." She had to match her stride to that of the woman's, as she followed her lead and began weaving through the crowds, in order to not be left behind. Still, it was not a strenuous task as the spirit seemed to be mindful of not leaving her behind. As they journeyed toward Maruyama Park, the young Quincy experienced a bit of relief that the crowds were thinning and she would not have to be so circumspect with her replies. So while at first she held her silence, taking in the odd accompaniment of the okobo as they traveled along, she pondered how to rectify the misunderstanding about the names before focusing upon the tall woman's other comments. There really didn't seem to be any option available other than to just be straight forward.

"Excuse me, it may be best if I just ask you what is the proper way to address you to avoid giving unintentional insult. Among my people it is common to list our surnames after those that are individually our own. In that regard, I believe you would find it more proper to call me Miss Hughes, and Hughes is the name of my Clann, come down to me through my mother." Legally she her surname was Klein, but ever since that night at Aidan's, when she had introduced herself as Calendrea Hughes to the Queen, she had begun to use the name of her mother instead of her father. For too long she had denied what she was and had refused to accept any training from her brother in the ways of the Quincy.

Since then, she had consciously been trying to take her life in a different direction, to no longer squander her abilities but rather to train and put them to their intended use. By adopting the name of her mother, she hoped to further cement that mentality in his mind. At least this is what she told herself; certainly it couldn't have been some spur of the moment attempt to sound impressive to the Queen by taking a name that would readily be recognized as Quincy rather than that of her mundane father. Certainly jealously had played no part in her choice that night? No, that would have just been childish and petty.

Sometime along the way, they had indeed taken that second fork in the road to the left, and she beheld the main entrance to the park through the Yasaka Shrine. Her eyes were enthralled by the richly colored gate, situated at the top of the steps with its book-end statuary upon either side. She had traveled to distant lands, one after the other, for the larger part of her life and had seen quite a few marvels. Even so, this was remarkable to her and rather took her breath away. Pausing on the steps she looked up into the face of the ornately carved animal seated upon the stone balustrade perch. It's eyes peered down at her, teeth barred, as though daring her to pass between the archway beyond and face the judgement of he and his guardian companion. Was he a lion or some mythological beast?

Reflexively she reached to the hollow of her throat, making the sign of the cross with her thumb across her skin before hastening to catch up with Tomie. She had so many things to explain to the woman, among them the spiritual inheritance of her people, but her mind was filling with questions of her own concerning a good many thing. An addict of history, the danger would be in not becoming sidetracked by the wealth of knowledge the woman must possess, but it was not the only danger. The trick of not adding further insult to injury by inadvertent rudeness was also of great concern. She would wait, therefore, until the woman had chosen the perfect spot for their visit before speaking further. Hopefully without the concern of the public eye upon them, the interaction would go smoothly.

Word Count: 692 + 2775 = 3467