Post by Hirato Murano on Dec 26, 2012 18:11:07 GMT -6
A sigh escaped the crimson haired man's lips, the expression on his face one of utmost boredom. While he was pleased that he had reached his goal after centuries of progressing toward it, sometimes the lull in activity drove him to simply wander around Rukongai, searching for something, anything to shatter the monotony that characterized life in Seireitei at this moment. His lieutenant, Daisuke, was all too eager to please him and became embarrassed with any failure, two qualities that often didn't mix well in someone, although it did allow him to be taught rather easily. With his new lieutenant at least slightly more capable of defending himself and several of the pieces of the puzzle in place, there wasn't much to be done except for the routine paperwork, which he had finished hours ago with the same expression he wore now. His eyes remained ahead of him, yet the scowls and whispered words of the villagers could not be missed, many of them bitter that they suffered in poverty, but the Shinigami and nobility enjoyed their lives comfortably within the walls of Seireitei. Much of life was what you made of it, yet where you were born and with what abilities was simply a game of chance, one most of the people looking at him had lost and one he himself had won.
Hirato glanced around for the first time, his cerulean orbs capturing the entirety of the scene around him. The noble mused that he was fortunate enough to be born into a noble family, the son of two Shinigami who had both possessed fairly significant spiritual powers themselves. Most of these villagers would spend their entire afterlives here, struggling to survive; a few would be approached by black robed warriors and welcomed into the luxury and peace that existed behind the white walls. Not only were those who became Shinigami often shunned and despised by those they left behind, but that didn't even matter to them, as they gained new friends and companions in the Academy and through serving in various divisions. Unlike some nobles who sneered at the plight of those less fortunate, the newest Captain had never believed himself better than those who endured horrendous conditions and escaped them to the safety of Seireitei. Their experiences in Rukongai and the family they grew up with often made them strong, both mentally and physically, even though this was not their most important contribution to the individual. It made them who they are, just as his birth into the Murano clan and subsequent childhood with a stern yet loving father and an affectionate, gentle mother had done for him.
From his early years, the elders of the clan along with most of his teachers had spouted the stereotypical noble viewpoint: those who were poor were simply slothful and deserved the violence and thievery that was so prevalent in Rukongai. All the while, his parents and his uncle had argued against this line of thought, claiming his birth into a noble family was simply chance and he should appreciate what he had. His countenance remained as disinterested as ever, seemingly just searching for something to do; despite this, Hirato found himself missing them more than he had in many years, not just for their wisdom and guidance, but also for their warmth and affection. Would they approve of the path he had decided to take, one that involved deals with unscrupulous individuals and possible high treason or would they condemn it, urging him to prepare for the storm that was to come "honorably"? In any case, there was no choice in the matter, for if there was any other way to build the groundwork of his plans, he would have chosen that instead of the dark and winding path of the present. His sharp spiritual senses shook him out of his reminiscence and pondering, detecting a signature close by, one that might be suitable to become a Shinigami. Would the owner of it start walking down the path of the sword or would they refuse it, determined to take their own path?
(Word Count: 684)
Hirato glanced around for the first time, his cerulean orbs capturing the entirety of the scene around him. The noble mused that he was fortunate enough to be born into a noble family, the son of two Shinigami who had both possessed fairly significant spiritual powers themselves. Most of these villagers would spend their entire afterlives here, struggling to survive; a few would be approached by black robed warriors and welcomed into the luxury and peace that existed behind the white walls. Not only were those who became Shinigami often shunned and despised by those they left behind, but that didn't even matter to them, as they gained new friends and companions in the Academy and through serving in various divisions. Unlike some nobles who sneered at the plight of those less fortunate, the newest Captain had never believed himself better than those who endured horrendous conditions and escaped them to the safety of Seireitei. Their experiences in Rukongai and the family they grew up with often made them strong, both mentally and physically, even though this was not their most important contribution to the individual. It made them who they are, just as his birth into the Murano clan and subsequent childhood with a stern yet loving father and an affectionate, gentle mother had done for him.
From his early years, the elders of the clan along with most of his teachers had spouted the stereotypical noble viewpoint: those who were poor were simply slothful and deserved the violence and thievery that was so prevalent in Rukongai. All the while, his parents and his uncle had argued against this line of thought, claiming his birth into a noble family was simply chance and he should appreciate what he had. His countenance remained as disinterested as ever, seemingly just searching for something to do; despite this, Hirato found himself missing them more than he had in many years, not just for their wisdom and guidance, but also for their warmth and affection. Would they approve of the path he had decided to take, one that involved deals with unscrupulous individuals and possible high treason or would they condemn it, urging him to prepare for the storm that was to come "honorably"? In any case, there was no choice in the matter, for if there was any other way to build the groundwork of his plans, he would have chosen that instead of the dark and winding path of the present. His sharp spiritual senses shook him out of his reminiscence and pondering, detecting a signature close by, one that might be suitable to become a Shinigami. Would the owner of it start walking down the path of the sword or would they refuse it, determined to take their own path?
(Word Count: 684)
