A Meeting To Remember [Otto/Rick]

‘Hey there, Rogers,’ he said, slipping into the seat across from the king of the Quincy. Otto’s arrival had been unannounced, and he eyed their surroundings with thinly veiled disappointment.

‘You’re alone? I thought for sure you’d bring someone along, if only to entice me. What, the Order fresh out of pretty young Quincy girls, or something?’

It was an empty statement, really. He would’ve had something to say, some other quip or remark, if the who had come to meet him had brought anyone with him. The king could’ve brought a gift of forty nubile young concubines for Otto, and he would still have found something to remark on. That was just the way he was.

He caught the waitresses’ attention with a friendly wave, revealing a glimpse of the SIG nestled in its shoulder holster through the folds of his jacket as he raised his arm. It was an almost calculated move—nobody but whoever was sitting across from Otto would have seen the pistol, and he pretended almost as if it hadn’t happened, ordering whatever it was Rogers had ordered before settling back into his seat.

In the five years since Otto had first arrived in Japan, his Japanese had improved tremendously, and he spoke it—though slightly accented—almost fluently. He had noticed in time that the novelty of a foreigner speaking their language never ceased to impress the natives, but in the older generations in particular there seemed to be an undercurrent of distrust in their polite surprise and what he was certain was feigned elation. He had realized that people here weren’t so different from where he was from. It was, however, just about as far from Dixie as you could get, though, in terms of pretty much everything. In time, he had come to resent his father’s decision to have him sent specifically to Japan less and less—there were plenty of other reasons to resent him, after all—but Japan agreed with him. At least, he thought, it wasn't Germany.

But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Otto, once one to just stuff his gun in his waistband and call it a day, had found himself needing to use it more and more as the years passed, and while he had—at first—assumed it had something to do with the population density, conversations with his family back home had all confirmed that there was a worrisome trend of Hollow-breeds becoming a lot more bold all across the globe. The Shinigami, quite simply put, weren’t doing their jobs. He had held on to the old ways for as long as he could, but eventually he had been forced to face facts: he was going to need another way to carry his firearm. Alvar’s suggestion, knowing Otto as well as he did, had been the shoulder holster, and while it had taken some getting used to, Otto had come to greatly value its convenience.

‘So, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?’


°504

"The man of the hour! Hey!"

Rick gave Otto a friendly wave and smiled, happy to see that the young Quincy decided to pay the king a visit and hear what he had to say.

"I was actually trying to order something, but it's a bit hard to be adventurous when you aren't too familiar with the regular dishes. I would have been fine at a diner with a pretty good cheeseburger. However, I have to maintain some similar high-class appearances of aristocratic wealth, which is mostly bullshit I think. The finer things in life don't exactly shine gold toilet seats. Anyway, I'm getting a bit off topic. "

The waitress quickly blushed quite a bit at Otto before going back to her duties, causing Rick to raise an eyebrow at the man.

"Hey, you're pretty good."

It's ok if Otto didn't know what Rick was talking about, but he knew that this kid had some moxie. It was a good sign that also could explain a few reasons about why Otto wasn't exactly down with the order. Rick somewhat caught a glimpse at the fact that Otto was armed, and that was ok. He didn't earn the man's trust yet, everyone had the right to defend themselves at any given time. Even if it had been a refined Quincy weapon, Rick was sure that Otto could materialize it at a moment notice. This was all speculation at the time, but none of that mattered as the miso soup came in.

Two steamed bowls of tofu and seaweed were placed on opposite sides of the table. The waitress stood by if they wanted to order anything else, but Rick waved her off.

"We just press the buzzer for you like .......room service.... right?"

After that information being confirmed with the waitress, she went back to her duties.

"The reason I called you today is that the Quincy can't survive without a strong solidarity. Ever since I had become the king, I made it a point to reach out to the Quincy who chose not to side with the order for the sake of a parlay. I don't know what happened formerly or the present, but I'm willing to listen and do what I can to possibly make you more comfortable with the thought of joining the order. Is it possible for us to find common ground and work together as comrades?"

WC 550
Total WC 950

Otto smiled pleasantly at the waitress when she arrived with their soup, and his eyes lingered on her retreating back maybe a fraction longer than was necessary when she departed. It hadn’t taken very long for him to learn to appreciate the local girls. He had learned to like the local cuisine, too, and he took a long sip from the miso as the king put his cards on the table. Set the bowl down with a contented look on his face. Reached for a napkin to gently dry his lips. Smiled. Wondered, vaguely, if Rogers knew.

Otto’s last five years had been spent in what could only be described as covert insurrection, a systematic attempt at pushing as many people away from the Order as he could manage. What had started with Sasha in von Wolfenstein’s old estate had continued in much the same fashion since: whenever he came across someone on the fence, or perhaps a recent addition to the ranks of the Order he was allegedly liaising with on behalf of the Scandinavians, he immediately set to work undermining the institution, trying—and very often succeeding—in making sure people either stayed away or left it. For every one of Rick Rogers’ efforts to build the Order, Otto Berg had been counteracting it to the very best of his ability.

It was difficult to put his finger on why exactly, but after having given it some thought, he had eventually reached the conclusion that his usual trend of bucking authority was hard at work even here. Not only did the Order itself represent something Otto had been raised to despise, but his father had press-ganged him into acting as an ally, which of course meant that he was intentionally doing as poor a job as he could.

Again, he wondered if Rogers knew. This could just as well have been a polite way to get him to stop as it could’ve been an earnest invitation to mend old wounds.

The irony, of course, was that the only one wounded was the Order—figuratively and literally.

‘Let me ask you something first, since you’re here,’ he said, dodging the question almost entirely. ‘I’m sure that like the rest of us, you’ll have noticed that the Shinigami presence has dwindled. They aren’t around much anymore.’ It had, after all, forced him to abandon his principles in favor of a more realistic approach to the Hollow problem and ultimately to adapt his strategy regarding the Order.

‘Where do you suppose they went?’


°422

"Ok...ask away..."

Taking a small sip of his miso soup, Rick would give Otto his undivided attention for the present. He didn't really know what this man was to ask of him. It could be something serious; it could be a riddle. Either way, Rick was expecting to jump through a few hoops before being able to reach out to this man sense of reason.

"The shinigami? You want to know about that?"

Setting the bowl aside, Rick would hum to himself as he examined the current events and information he accumulated throughout the years. Besides just asking the shinigami themselves, only the desperate ones did much of the talking. The state of their world was currently unknown; Rick had no clue what was happening over there.

"From what I heard, they were caught up in the black plague for spiritual beings. It seems as if it only affected the shinigami, so it kept the rest of the races safe from harm. With that being said, it's why we managed to come this far. Without the constant oppression of the shinigami, exercising their own self-proclaimed laws on any Quincy eradicating souls, some of our people were spared from execution via protecting themselves or others from hollow breeds"

Rick didn't want to sour the mood, so he left it at that.

"I recently scanned a shinigami that seemed to have not been affected by the virus. The reason is currently unknown, but there is a fair assumption that the worst of the situation is over. What does that mean for the Quincy? We have some time to relax a bit and gather up our members before the Shinigami start to feel a little frisky with their sword. In the off chance that they do decide to take the risk, I wanted us to least be able to look out for each other. "

WC 311
Total WC- 1261

Otto pursed his lips as he considered what Rogers had said. He would have understood political strife, infighting, rebellion. No society was immune to that, not even that of the dead. But a plague? How exactly did a ghost succumb to disease? He rubbed one finger absentmindedly against the rim of his bowl of miso, trying to imagine a place he had never seen, ravaged by a plague he didn’t understand. He quickly gave up, filing the information away for later. Something else had caught his interest.

‘So do you believe in it, then? The balance of souls, the fact that what people like you and I do is nothing but destroy? That to use the Quincy gift is to throw the universe off balance?’

There was something in the way Rogers had said eradicating souls that Otto couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was a phrasing he knew a lot of Quincy intentionally avoided, lest they admit that they knew what they were doing was wrong. But whether or not the man across from him actually believed it, he couldn’t say.

‘Because if you do, it would seem counterproductive to gather the Quincy together the way you’re doing’—or trying to do, he thought—‘at least as far as the universe is concerned.’

He grinned, suddenly remembering something.

‘Come to think of it, I ran into one a few years back. A Shinigami. She insisted on trying to get me to, uh, join them or something. I forget the details, she was a very angry woman. I wonder if she survived.’


°263

"Do I believe in it? Well, beliefs are similar to religion. Some people believe in God, and others remain to be atheists. It's hard to believe in something that's not necessarily proved without a shadow of a doubt. I may be a skeptic, but I am a realist when it comes to accurate information that I cannot dispute. However, the Shinigami could not prepare such a claim or even want to take the time to develop a counterargument to the disagreement that we cause as much harm to the "cycle" as they claim. "

Rick as open to ideas and tend to listen to all sides of the story before moving towards his own decision as the Quincy king. He had some diplomatic tendencies that he wanted to cultivate to avoid unnecessary conflicts and move forward with the Quincy as a whole. Was it possible that such an ideal can be a double-edged sword or be his downfall later?

"I believe that the gifts of the Quincy do not throw the world off balance. With the hollows who have an entire domain dedicated to them and their monstrous rule, is it possible that we have enough Quincy to affect that probable balance when everyone who thought they had a shitty life can just hollowify at the end of it? I don't think so. But that's just my opinion. What do you think Otto?"

WC 232
Total WC 1439

Otto laughed. ‘I think the same thing most people from up north think: you Quincy are liable to see yourselves as innocent and oppressed victims, throwing blame in every direction other than at your own feet. A society comprised almost entirely of people who are utterly incapable of taking responsibility for their actions and the consequences that follow.’

He leaned forward, his voice conspiratorially low. ‘You’d think that ghosts were proof enough that there is more to the world than meets the eye.’

The statement hung in the air for a few moments, and then Otto settled back into his chair with a smirk. ‘But then that’s always been the problem, hasn’t it? You simply ignore what’s inconvenient and hide behind words like skepticism and belief so you can continue on your moral crusade against the mindless specters of people who thought they had shitty lives, a crusade you justify almost entirely by pointing out that there are very many of them, thus absolving you of any kind of guilt.

‘Suppose,’ he said, his eyes boring into Rogers, ‘the Shinigami felt the same way about you. There are billions of human beings on this planet, and a relative handful of Shinigami. What does it matter if a few Quincy die? Your entire argument falls apart the moment you try to apply it to another perspective. It’s awfully difficult to proclaim yours a platform of evidence and realistic approaches when it can’t stand up to closer scrutiny, don’t you think?’


°249