Although We Have No Obligation, To Stay Alive...

It was a foreboding wind that raced across the arctic plain, a wind that spoke of tradgedies from past times, and new ones yet to be realised. The encroaching darkness that seemed to penetrate even the snow covered ice fields in of the pole brought with it a sense of evil that could be felt by anyone and anything, but only fought by the gifted few. It was a gift then, that these gifted ones were trying with all their might to overthrow the theif who stole the thrown, and sought to steal life itself from the very world. Or perhaps he didn't, but he certainly did nothing towards stopping the mindless death of virtually an entire world. But despite the fact that he seemed to hold all the cards, there was one wildcard left in this world. The Jinchuu resistance.

Led by the dethroned Shinigami Prince, and marshalled the 6 powerful Commanders, each far beyond what was once called the pinnacle of human and shinigami power, there was still hope in the hearts of those left. There was still hope on the horizon. There was still hope in the form of Susumu Katsuro, Commander of Jinchuu. A peerless warrior, yet somewhat of a pacifist, he was unique even amongst the varied and uniquely attributed Jinchuu. His tall form ran through a series of simple warm ups as he readied himself for a training session he had not taken part in for some time; Twin Swords.

Whilst only one was his zanpaukto, the other had been forged using the knowledge of his constant partner through the years, Nikkou. Yet another nodachi blade, it mirrored the weapon within which Nikkou resided in virtually every physical aspect. Even an Arrancar's Cero would struggle to shatter this blade, but it still would not be enough to penetrate Reyes Fernandes' hierro. On its own at least.

Commander Katsuro's loss at the hands of the Primera had left him nursing a bruised and battered ego. Whilst not a particularly prideful man, he held great stock in his own abilities with a blade, and barely scratching his opponent even with his shikai released had him doubting himself despite his obvious strengths. Slashing the unnamed blade through the air, Katsuro smiled softly as he felt the tip bury itself in the snow at his feet. Perfectly balanced, thanks Kou-kun Removing it from the ground and sliding it slowly back into its sheathe upon his back, he left his hand gripping the tsuba as he felt a reiatsu signature nearby. Whoever it was, they were heading towards his own un-hidden reiatsu, and they were unlikely to be friendly in nature. Regardless of who they were, Katsuro would defend himself to the best of his not inconsiderable abilities.

And he would triumph in the end, just as Jinchuu would.

On Broken Backs We Beg For Mercy, We Will Survive.

It was amazing what the wind of the earth could carry along with its powerful, and occasionally destructive, gusts. The soft verse said aloud by this strange Arrancar were carried to the ears of Katsuro as if by some kind of magic. Not that it would surprise him in this day and age of course, nothing did anymore. Well...That was a lie. But it wasn't what was considered surprising in times long past. Now it was acts of random kindness, self-sacrifice and heroism that gave him surprise and awe. It also made him proud. Proud to be on what could only be considered universally as the "good" side. Not that there was really a good side in this conflict, there never was in any kind of war. Death was death, for whatever the reasons. Seems kinda pointless to hope that we can all just get along he thought to himself, feeling the solid presence of Nikkou in the back of his mind agree without even a word passing between the two.

What did surprise the dishevelled former Taichou, was what verse in particular the Arrancar was speaking in his presence. Not that Arrancar were generally stupid creatures, perhaps uneducated for the most part; but they were generally fiendishly clever as was the way with the most dangerous of predators. But for an Arrancar to be quoting Edgar Allen Poe was something even the virtually timeless Commander had never experienced. With a wry grin he eyed the capped adversary before him;

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more.

"Not often I share words with such a pleasant Arrancar. Hell, I don't think many of my comrades back in Jinchuu have even heard of Edgar Allen Poe. I'm impressed. But if it's a test of power you want, I'm always ready my friend. But...Pleasantries first, some things come before combat. Susumu Katsuro, Commander of Jinchuu and Eternally Single, to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Certainly if any of his more stalwart comrades heard him bandying words with a foe in such a fashion, they would question his alliegances to the cause. But Katsuro was behind the goal of Jinchuu with his entire being and something inside told him he would give his life for it someday, but ever the pacifist he sought to forstay the inevitable clashing of blades, ideals and reiatsu with merry words and candour. At his very core, Katsuro was tired of the endless fighting between the two races of Hollow and Shinigami, but knew full well it would continue as it must for the sake of those humans still left in this world and the souls prisoner in the next.

Arrancar were such a varied and amusing bunch of creatures. It was far too simple to lump them all in together in the same group of mindless destroyers as the Hollow they evolved from. They varied in ways that made them all but indestinguishable from the humans and shinigami they preyed upon, it was only the rage that tended to lay just below the surface of their iron skin that seperated them from simply being allies to the Jinchuu cause. Even they couldn't find living at the whims of Aizen an enjoyable existence, and the smarter of them knew it was against the balance of all things with the world firmly under their control. The Human Realm should be just that, for humans. It should never have become the feeding ground for things long dead, but it had thanks to the stupidity of a mans ambition. Even the pacifist in Katsuro wanted to stab Aizen Sosuke in the face. Hard.

Still, it seemed the Arrancar before him now wanted to simply test his power. That was alright, it might get a bit more heated than the spars he was used to, but what was life without a bit of excitement? With the fact that the hat wearing son of a gun before him was the Tercera of Las Noches, not to mention royalty, Katsuro let his left hand move up to the hilt above his right shoulder and draw the blade slowly from the sheath across his back. Whilst not his zanpauktou, it served its purpose well in the hands of Katsuro. After all, any blade could be used to deadly effect if one merely knew how to use it, and if there was one thing Katsuro was a proclaimed master of, it was stabbing things with big shiny bits of metal.

Hearing Mortifero's words and then watching as he seemed to call a small bird-like hollow from the sky, Katsuro's smile softly dimmed across his face. It was still there of course, but this was his more serious face. It wouldn't do to be grinning like a complete idiot all the time after all.

"You have my word Raven King, I will not reveal any of which comes to light during our combat here. I trust I can hold you to the same?"

Since it seemed that the Espada had no plans on the demise of Katsuro, it only seemed appropriate that the stubbled Commander ask his word to keep what he saw secret from his colleagues. After all, it wouldn't do to go into a future combat against opponents who knew everything regarding his fighting style and his abilities. He'd still win of course, but seriously, does Katsuro seem like he enjoys effort to you?

Settling himself into a low stance side on towards his opponent, Katsuro allowed the grin to grow once more across his face. With both his blades in hand, he knew that whatever the Arrancar threw in his direction, he would be hard pushed to get through the weave of death that he was able to create with these implements of destruction. Still, whatever it was, Susumu Katsuro of Jinchuu was ready.

When you live a life as long as those of Arrancar and Shinigami tended towards, it often got to the point where you stop being surprised by what life throws at you. Not that they're actually alive, but still, the point remains. Even when you've not seen everything, after being around for multiple centuries, or perhaps even millenia, then you've probably seen something similar. But this dome of flapping darkness that surrounded the two combatants now...This was something Katsuro had not seen the likes of in all his years, of which there were a multitude.

Resting his zanpauktou against his right shoulder, the Shinigami let out a low whistle as he looked on with awe at his changing surroundings. It wasn't just that Mortifero could summon a flock of birds to do his bidding, he was an Espada after all, for the most part the lower-tier Hollow creatures did what they were told by the Espada. It was the fact that each of these miniscule monstrosities held the same reiatsu signature as the Tercera himself. Which brought connotations to the mind of the former Royal Guard that he would have rathered stayed away.

"My, my, my...And here I am without any feed for these lil' tykes."

Even in the face of as imposing a site as this, Susumu Katsuro still made jokes and then had the indecency to laugh at them softly. It was just his way of dealing with things, and it was as effective in masking how he truely felt as any of the stoic faced shenanigans Kensai and Ammiel put on when wanting to hide something. To Mortifero, there would be no real change, but in his mind, Katsuro was thinking just how powerful this Raven King must be and that particular thought caused the smile upon his face to change for the first time since the Arrancar had appeared.

Of course, all it did was grow wider. After all, logically, he shouldn't be as powerful as Reyes Fernandes, and Katsuro had stood up to that miserable faced git just fine. Sure he had come away with a small injury, but that was the life he lead. Going into battle, and then complaining about the fact you got injured is nothing but stupidity. The fact that this Arrancar had such a physical representation of the vast power at his command allowed Katsuro one joyous thought.

There was no need to hold back in the slightest.

Sheathing the Nodachi once more, he twitched his wrist so that the flat of the zanpauktou blade faced his adversary. Without even a word, the blade exploded in a flurry of golden reiatsu before dying down just as suddenly into the nothing from whence it came. Held in the right hand of Susumu Katsuro was the true form of his blade, the shikai of his zanpauktou, Nikkou. With the lack of light available due to the surrounding sphere of birds, the blade lacked its usual ethereal quality, resembling more a large purple crystal, but that did nothing to take away from its destructive power. Hearing his opponent address him once more, Katsuro looked over in his direction.

"Perhaps once I did Morty-kun, but that was a long time ago. I've had just over two thousand years to come to terms with my power. In that kind of time, fear gives way to understanding."

When a shinigami releases their zanpauktou, even to a level such as shikai which was virtually mandatory for any seated position in the old Gotei, their base amount of reiatsu increases in accordance with their release. So, it only stands to reason that the more powerful the shinigami and the more powerful the release, the more reiatsu that the shinigami would have to play around with. Honestly, for someone like Katsuro it was like being a kid in a candy shop.

Raising his reiatsu up to its current maximum as he waited for Mortifero to begin, the Commander couldn't help but broaden his smile. After all, this was the Tercera of Las Noches about to attack him, and his Heavy Assault and Defence Division was essentially a Kidou-friendly version of the old 11^th. Which obviously meant that the person leading it would be somewhat of a battle crazed lout in love with sticking his sword into things. Well, to a certain extent it was most definately true. But Katsuro didn't enjoy killing, it took the fun out of the future and left a bad taste in his mouth. Though with the Tercera about to enter single combat against him, it was doubtful that he would be disappointed in any way shape or form upon completion of this duel.

Even with the light shining through the gaps between the surrounding dome of ravens, the shining white of his Taichou's haori seemed dim in comparison to how it normally looked. Although the glow of his now visible reiatsu restored some semblence of normality to that small aspect. The orange reiatsu appeared to be tangible as Katsuro held himself at his maximum. Hell, if anyone was looking for him at this particular point in time they couldn't help but find him unless they were completely blind to reiatsu. Even then, he was pretty loud so they would probably get to him eventually.

Nodding his head as Mortifero showed his respect to the release he had witnessed, Katsuro came to attention instantly as his opponent pushed off from the ground. Materialising the feathers was certainly unforseen, but Katsuro was a battle-hardened veteran when it came to dealing with shit you didn't see coming and managed to take it in his stride. Obviously, he had no idea what these lil' feathers would do to him, so the stubbled Commander saw no point in finding out the hard way. Their effect could be anything from tickling to instant death, what was the point in taking a chance?

Sliding slightly to his left as the Raven King slashed his hand through the air towards his chest, Katsuro brought his broad blade forward in an attempt to bulldoze the Arrancar's nose with the flat of the purple shiny death even as the attack whizzed past him by millimeters.

"Y'know Morty-kun, I've got a riddle for you. What do Ravens and writing desks have in common?"