tethered fragments [ machie/closed ]

It had been some time since that mission in Rome, the one that had put Machie in the hospital for two weeks. She was healed up now, but still on light duty. The hospital experience had been interesting, but it left Machie with too much time to think. Those thoughts circulated between a limited number of subjects, one of which was her relationship with Nasima, her zanpakuto spirit.

The dark skinned woman's inner feline had been less than impressed with Machie's mercurial humor these days. There was a rift between the two despite being bound together spiritually. It felt like the days when the feline woman had spent the better part of her interactions with Nasima playing a strange guessing game.

Once more, the feline shinigami came to the library to seek help on the issue. Nasima's lack of communication was both frustrating and confusing, driving Machie to try books once more to divine possible solutions. What could those old tomes reveal to her that staring contests with Nasima had not? Perhaps the books were not the only resource Machie sought in the library. She wasn't sure what she wanted as she entered quietly, hazel eyes drifting over the familiar layout of shelves, tables, and desks.

The feline woman noticed a familiar, blond figure at a desk with his face in a book. Machie debated approaching the young man, what was his name again? Liv? Lenny? Lev?

She gnawed on her lower lip for a few moments, hesitating. They'd had an interesting conversation the last time they'd met in the library, a chance meeting. However, that didn't constitute interest in her problems or a desire to help. Getting to know Merrick taught her that. Still, he might prove easier to entice. Lev didn't read as the type of person to do things purely out of the goodness of his heart, but perhaps they could make a trade of some sort. The only person she'd met to take a personal interest in her with no strings attached was Kyojin. Well, he was the only living person she'd met like that.

With a sigh, Machie pushed her concerns aside and waded through the tables towards Lev's position. She stopped at his des and watched him quietly, waiting for him to find a good place to stop. The man kept turning pages as if she were not there, but the feline woman was undeterred. Merrick was also a prickly person and hated to be interrupted. Lev might be similar. Either way, she doubted he would ignore her forever.

"I'd do no such thing," Machie assured Lev when he finally spoke. "After all, searing a hole in you is far from convincing you to assist me."

He must have recognized her, because the blond looked up. His next phrase might have had made Machie quake in her boots five years ago, but it was hardly worse than Merrick's piercing stares.

She met the deadpan stare with a vaguely pleasant expression, not quite smiling but not completely bland either.

"I was hoping you would help me find a book. I'm hoping to learn more about communicating with my zanpakuto spirit." Machie cut straight to the point, not wanting to waste Lev's time and lose his interest. It felt odd to be so straight forward after all this time, but it was strangely refreshing, too.

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Machie continued regarding Lev with that same, almost pleasant yet bland expression, pleased that he had decided to humor her. She let the blond man talk, finding his theatrics almost familiar. The long silence before his chatter had almost been worrying, but it seemed that he had given in. Despite his seemingly aloof nature, Lev wasn't exactly unkind or unwilling to help if asked. She'd been certain he would give some sort of answer once he began to talk.

"I'm far less interested in sword play than my spirit's thoughts," Machie told him.

Of course, Lev graciously agreed to assist her, earning him a slight nod.

He gave her an odd look, expression something the dark skinned woman couldn't interpret, before continuing. The feline woman blinked curiously, a ghost of a frown appearing at the corners of her mouth. Was this a sensitive topic for the library dwelling shinigami? Machie decided not to mention the redness of his ears, such a person wouldn't feel inclined to explain any personal thoughts to a near-stranger without bringing it up himself.

The dark skinned shinigami tilted her head slightly at the speech that followed. Judging by his words, Lev had a complex relationship with his own inner spirit.

Enduring? I suppose that is one way to describe that kind of relationship, Machie mused inwardly.

Curious, Machie followed Lev through the library.

"My problem," the dark skinned woman informed, "is that although I can hear her voice, Nasima rarely talks to me. She prefers to play guessing games. I know if I'm in the right direction because she's pleased. If not, she simply communicates her displeasure."

Sometimes, Nasima's displeasure could be quite painful. The zanpakuto spirit would give her headaches when particularly dissatisfied. Their game of hot and cold was tiresome and despite Lev's words, Machie was unsure if she wanted to endure. Nevertheless, Machie didn't exactly have options other than not using Nasima and that, despite her inner spirit's attitude, was not something Machie saw as a viable alternative.

"Communication is mutual. Nothing one-sided will suffice." Her hazel eyes swept over the books and the surprisingly clean alcove. Would the effort even be appreciated?

"Still, this is likely a better place to look than where I had previously been searching." Machie's lips pressed themselves into a firm line while she skimmed a few of the titles. If all else failed, she would have read something interesting.

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Lev's words almost sounded chiding when he reminded Machie that communication took time. The feline woman had to admit --even if it were only to herself-- that she was rather impatient with her inner spirit. With so few conversations, it was left to the shinigami to figure out what it was Nasima wanted. The long game of deciding what to do about her past had been frustrating enough and Machie didn't have the patience for it, or, she supposed, she didn't have it yet. Then again, what did he know about her or Nasima?

Machie's hazel eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing the strawberry blond man seated before her. The dark skinned woman didn't take a seat, not yet, but she did lean against a nearby shelf.

The man's probing stare made Machie feel distinctly uncomfortable, but she resisted the urge to fidget or bite her lip for once, steeling herself. Half of her resistance was ire at Lev's suggestion that she was wrong after spending years trying to divine what her inner spirit wanted with little to show for it, the other half determination that she hadn't had before.

Lev kept going, a teasing, almost patronizing tone in his voice, one that made Machie bristle slightly.

"You know, I almost regret asking you for assistance," Machie told the nearly smirking blond. Here, another person might have ranted about their troubles, explaining why Lev was wrong about his assessment. Machie, however wasn't prone to exposing her vulnerabilities, the things that got under her skin, what made her tick to people she barely knew. Such things were saved for rare occasions with those who caught her off balance and already unable to defend against probing questions, or those who earned her trust.

Here and now, Machie was more closed off than she had been before yet more willing to speak with others. The result was confidence that was only skin deep, serving to protect her from unwanted questions. Speaking without revealing too much.

"But, there is some merit to your words. Nasima may not be obligated to speak to me, neither am I required to amuse her with games that lead nowhere. She is not a child in need of entertainment and neither am I one to be scolded." The lack of force in her tone did little to take the bite from her words. They were a warning, a not so subtle sign that Lev had perhaps gotten too personal with Machie and done it far too quickly for her tastes.

The mild irritation faded from the dark skinned woman's expression as she shifted off of the bookcase behind her. Just like that, a door had been closed, concealing and shuttering whatever Lev hoped to find with that piercing stare of his.

"You speak strangely, Mr. Lev," Machie spoke softly, stepping forward, "most would say shinigami are meant to master their blades and inner spirits, yet you're lecturing me about treating my weapon as my equal." Her hazel eyes were sharp, waiting to see if the strange man would take her bait.

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Lev stared back at her, eye to eye, gaze unflinching. In the back of his mind, there was perfect clarity: he struck a nerve and struck it well.

Whatever Machie hoped to quell, she only managed to arouse further. Despite her efforts to sound mature, all Lev heard was that almost akin to a rebellious teenager going through puberty. "You say you're..." Not a child "...not one to be scolded, but does Nasima think the same? Wouldn't be that a good thing to ask? Try visiting your world once in a while." He didn't ask, and he didn't want to think about it. But surely, she'd known about jinzen... right? Deep inside, he hoped she wasn't this far behind as far as communicating goes, but it felt just right to clarify. 

Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips as he listened further, chuckling inwardly as he resisted the urge to shake his head. 'Shinigami arrogance', he noted, eyeing the woman without a hint of shame. 

"Is it too bold an idea to consider that shinigami might be equals with their zanpakutou? I'm afraid I have no reason to think otherwise..." Lev trailed off, flashbacks of his past and the manifold times he'd come to hear it coming back to him. Oddly, he thought he had a lot of answers. He did. But it was one of those things that was significantly easier for him to rebut as they were spoken, less so when he had to actually list the things he knew. He wasn't the one who first entertained the idea of this relationship being a partnership, after all. His arrogance always demanded that he consider his shinigami lower than him, and the world around his shinigami decided the other way around. It was his second shinigami, Lyvalaea, who first conceived the idea that it was a respectful partnership, that any powers shared between them was borrowed. Not even his first shinigami considered that they might be more than just spirits inhabiting silly little blades, manifesting their power at a shinigami's beck and call. 

Had Machie asked this a long time ago, the idea wouldn't even have crossed his mind, only the smoldering fury of his thirst for revenge toward the shinigami who undermined his powers. His worth. His existence. Now, it was stifling for him to even think how many spirits out there live being treated like dogs. 

Slowly, but surely, he began, almost struggling to echo the words that had come to etch itself deep in his soul. Even coming from his lips, it felt more like a defense more than the sincere explanation Lyvalaea could have put it as. Shame. It could have been a nice conversation.

"If you wanted a sword to master, you could have taken any good sword in Rukongai and made it your own. Humans have swords. Arrancars have swords. It's no big deal. But instead, shinigami spend countless hours communing with a spirit that resides within the sword. To hope that they could forge a connection strong enough for a zanpakutou spirit to lend their power in times of strife. Even then, it's the zanpakutou who chooses whether or not to give you their strength, yes? Power-wise, you're the one asking to be assisted." He paused for a moment, still watching Machie with the same unfazed eyes he'd regarded with. 

"That soul within you, Nasima... they resonate with the kind of soul you have. In more ways than one, you're soulmates. Literally. It is a bond that will, most likely, persist until you die. The stronger you are able to resonate with Nasima, the stronger your connection is-- and it will show. Plain instruction makes it sound more pathetic than the complexity of work required to get there. They call it releases. But it's as you said, communication isn't a one-way street." Lev shifted in his seat, leaning at the back of his chair as he folded his arms nonchalantly across his chest. "Funny, but have you ever heard your zanpakutou's thoughts? I'm sure Nasima could hear all of yours. You can't even hide your emotions even if you tried. They know the extent of your body, the extent of your capabilities. Your motivations. Your fears. How much of theirs do you know? Do you think it's anything close to how much they know of you?" Probably not, he thought, considering how she'd come to a stranger to ask for help... to come to books hoping it could shed even a little bit of understanding of what she could've asked. 

"If your relationship is truly as shallow that you'd treat your zanpakutou as a servant and less so as a partner, you'll only be able to tap on the surface of their power. Taking them for granted. Wielding with very little understanding. There is a reason, miss Machie, why earthling conquerors rarely to never succeed in making their conquered property flourish. Treating your zanpakutou like a subject is not much different. Exploiting what they can offer. Thinking only of yourself  as you strengthen with their power. Praising only when beneficial, squeezing when it stops acting in your favor." Lev stopped for a moment, letting his words sink in. Both for him and for her. If he didn't know better, he'd think he made it sound like they were mere objects than living, breathing things. What a painful thought. 

"We can even go closer, if you want." He shifted his weight to the other side, tilting his head over so slightly as he regarded Machie's responses to his words. "A captain with only a know-how of how the Third works without knowing how the division fares cantake over the division any time, but how different do you think it would be if that captain treated his division members as subordinates, and those who treated his division members like people? It will show in their division's performance, just as much as it would show with your releases."

"A relationship in which one of you dominates the other... Is this how you envision your relationship with your zanpakutou?" 

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"You make a lot of assumptions, Mr. Lev," Machie told him quietly, once his questions and grand monologues had ended. "You assume I haven't tried to commune with her, that I have not spent hours meditating, spent hours in her domain at her side waiting for even a hint at what she wanted from me."

She turned her head and let out a frustrated snort, pacing a short distance from the blond man before returning. It was tempting to walk away.

"And it feels as if it is for nothing. Once I figured out which direction she thought I should take in my life, and not because I heard her voice, Nasima rarely blesses me with that privilege, no, she merely watches and judges, offering nothing in return." Her voice was bitter and hard, as the dark skinned woman seemed to lose grasp on her temper, something she rarely did.

"I only know what little I do of Nasima because I have tried so hard to get to know her. I do not ask her for power, I do not ask her for answers to my problems, only what she would have of me, that and only that."

The thin woman stalked forward and leaned down to plant her hands on the desk across from Lev. Her eyes pierced into his.

"And here you are, you, who have done nothing but make assumptions and patronize me, accusing me of enslaving her. She has had ample opportunity to express her wishes, and I cannot please her if she will not tell me what she desires. That is not the partnership of which you speak, that is anything but mutuality. It is running in the dark, pining after someone."

Her reiatsu solidified around her with the intensity of the emotions she had been ignoring for months on end. Purple, ethereal cat ears appeared atop her head, flattening themselves as if Machie were an angry cat. A long, slender tail lashed back and forth behind her, twitching as it went.

"Do you think I do not want a partnership with the being that is bound to my very soul? That I force her to do my bidding? If it is truly a zanpakuto spirit who is sharing their power, then I could do no such thing. I have no desire to call on a spirit whom I cannot understand let alone trust in my time of need, nor do I wish to enslave my other half even if she is stubborn," Machie hissed.

Quiet followed as Machie panted, shoulders relaxing. She laughed quietly, brokenly.

"I don't envision my relationship with Nasima how you described because there is no relationship to envision. She is cruel for binding herself with me only to shut me out. I am not hard to tolerate nor difficult to please. I'm not concerned with who leads the Third nor any other division. Whether they care for me or not is irrelevant. My performance will be the same."

Anyone who wielded her would get the same lackluster results, Machie thought to herself.

"Perhaps someone who already has a partnership is incapable of understanding."

Her reiatsu faded, the ears and tail disappearing with it, sinking into her. With a sigh, Machie let go of the table and walked a short distance away, no longer comfortable so close to this strange man.

"Tell me, Lev, have you achieved such a glorious relationship with your other half, or do you just wax poetic and pretend you are superior in these matters?" The dark skinned woman looked over her shoulder at Lev, braids shifting to spill down her shoulder blades at the motion. Her mood from before had vanished, Machie had given up for now.

"Do you speak with your inner spirit, spend time with them, or do you neglect them? Do you think you know what's best for the two of you? Do you seek their counsel?"

She turned to face Lev one more time, leaning on a bookshelf behind her, arms folding across her torso. In this position, it was easy to see the tanto strapped to her side, ever present, its matte blade contrasting with the dark fabric of her shihakusho.

Machie raised one brow questioningly, as if to challenge the strawberry blond man at the desk to answer her. Would he back down now or continue to pontificate?

Within her, Nasima stirred, having watched the conversation. Machie could sense the feline spirit washing her paws, as if unconcerned by the exchange that had just occurred.

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