Where's Your Pride? [Lukas/Freyja]

THE CITY OF LIGHT
There was always some division to be had amongst the Vandenreich, at least in its current state. Even in his memory, Lukas could recall something more 'pure', or at least, that's what he considered. Shinigami, Humans, Demons - a mess of impurity and compromise, born of weakened numbers and repeat Quincy persecution. Be it genocide or Hollow slayings, the disgust of it had been apparent from the man's approach to 'politics'.

A complete disregard for life in their ranks, so long as it did not bear a Quincy Cross.

Even then, he found inferiority amongst his own people. The Sternritter were an echelon of the organization, Knights of the Stars. Lukas understood his role in the Todgestalten, the knife in the dark, the hands willing to be dirtied; but he was left dissatisfied. To have done so much, to try where others have shown nothing, a shadow had begun to form across his heart. For one who stood for the Quincy so strongly, why did he still belong on the sidelines? Why - When so many stood higher for nothing at all?

Of course, he knew something of the answer. His past being less than clean had to contribute, the burning brand of 'house' arrest still hard against his chest. I've served enough time for this shit. I've shown my goddamn loyalty. Knuckles tightened as he exhaled, a foot tapping rapidly on the tiled floor. Eyes tightened shut, slowly opening back to the light of the cafe. A window to his right showed the busy street, a half drunk cup of coffee sat in front of him as he waited. The cracked screen of his phone sat next to it, the address of the cafe sent in reply to another message, asking to meet.

Sometimes, fortune needed to be taken, not earned.

It had been some time since Freyja had conversed with Lukas. Part of it, she surmised, always traced back to his past actions. It was common knowledge between them by now. In addition, they worked in two divisions that couldn't be any further apart in terms of duties. The Todgestalten acted in subterfuge and misdirection, carrying out actions from the shadows. In comparison, the Sternritter were undoubtedly considered the forces to be sent at the frontlines, built for direct engagement in combat.

Of course, Freyja wasn't particularly the type to make a habit of visiting anyone outside of a select few - unless, of course, they requested her presence in the same manner that Lukas has today. That played a part as well, no doubt. Fortunately, there was nothing that currently occupied her schedule. She is curious to to see how things have fared for him since his time here, but knowing the man he is, there must be something of far greater import than a mere meet and greet.

Passing through the doors of the café, Freyja discerned Lukas sitting at a table, appearing impatient as always. His face always seemed to shift between stern or annoyed. Sitting across from him at their table, Freyja crossed her legs, curiously observing him in silence before cutting through with it with an introduction.

"It has been some time since we've spoke, Lukas. It's good to see you, again. You requested to see me? For what purpose? I wonder."

THE CITY OF LIGHT
Lukas' listless gaze did little to look up to the woman's approach at first, the black swirl of his drink taking the brunt of his attention. A moment would pass, and his focus would come back into view - rapid blinking before he sat back to full height. "Ah, yeah, hey. Thanks for coming."

Pulling the cup up, he'd slam the rest of the coffee back in a single motion. A shot of air from his nose, half frown as his face twisted back to composure. Still somewhat lost in his thought, Lukas still had not considered what exactly to say to her. What to ask even less, but he had some idea. In the end, he'd just rip the band-aid off and move forward; as the man had most of his life.

"I was thinking some. Figured you might be able to help me out." His speech uncharacteristically slow, a waitress arrived with a plate of eggs and bacon, a nod of approval in her direction as he pushed the food to the side. "Didn't know when you'd show, sorry.", a small shake of the head. A pause before he'd continue, cut short with a sigh.

"What do you think the Vandenreich is trying to accomplish?" Surprisingly measured in cadence, his eyes would shift to lock with Freyja's as he spoke. "I've been a part of this for almost half of my life, now. And I'm having trouble seeing it."

Freyja was visibly intrigued by Lukas' air of composure, finding it somewhat unnatural given how impatient he tended to come across. A temperament as measured as this was a rare sight. Freyja shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she offered a graceful nod.

Ordering a cup of coffee, she listened to the first question, signaling the beginning of their conversation. The valkyrie leaned against her chair a little, gazing reflectively at the bright ceiling. It was an interesting question to begin with, to be certain, and even Freyja had at least developed her own doubts as a result of all the new additions to their forces.

None of them were quincy, and although she respected anyone who pledged their loyalty to the Vandenreich, she was still trying to make sense of the arrancar and a Shinigami of all races joining their forces. Of course, she was no fool. She knew that outside of a select few already present in the Vandenreich, strong allies who belonged to their own race was difficult to come by. Her gaze returned to Lukas, locking eyes with the male as she pondered her answer.

Most of their forces had been training to develop from the inside, no doubt, but it wasn't as if their efforts were reaping immediate returns. Still, for a woman who took utmost pride in her race, she found the choice questionable. Even so, Cyrus was their leader, and so she had to believe he had their best intentions in mind, even if it meant relying on those that did not belong to their kind.

"From the time I spent volunteering for missions up until now, I couldn't offer an accurate answer. Our kind has only ever been led astray in the past, compromised in a way that led to the genocide of our race. From the moment, I came here, however, I thought and still do think that the Vandenreich wishes to accomplish everything Cyrus has ever spoke about in public. Maintaining the realm, eliminating foreign influences, and being the first line of defense when the Gotei decides to stay their hand. If you don't mind a question in return, why do you feel you're struggling to make sense of our vision?"

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"I don't see accomplishments, I see complacency." his tone bitter, Lukas's face twisting to maintain a mix of disgust and disdain. "They want to make friends with the assholes who've been responsible for multiple quincy genocides, like half of them who did it aren't still alive. Rather than push anything to rise for the occasion, the higher ups I've interacted with want to hide and coddle their wounded pride. They'd rather listen to our enemies!"

Anger had turned up the man's pitch, the last words almost barking amidst the restaurant. Drawing more than a few idle eyes, Lukas turned to them with a glare of pure malice; their reaction to look away and mind their own business following suit. A sigh followed as the man shifted back further into his seat, shoulders slumping as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"If it were just one or another of them, I could at least understand. An organization doesn't have a singular opinion, that's always been the case. I mean, there were people back in the day who didn't necessarily approve of the Todgestalten, but they weren't particularly vocal. Now I'm getting shot down left and right, sternritter, albedochiffren, even fucking Cyrus." The intensity was lesser now, a level of defeat against the back of his throat. "What am I missing?"

Freyja listened to Lukas with measured silence, offering a decidedly neutral expression to his words. Softly raising an eyebrow, she ruminated on his outburst with that common degree of poise she always displayed. From her point of view, even if he had suddenly caused a scene and earned the attention of wandering eyes, she didn't particularly find his words disagreeable. Outside of her battle with Lerna, who hardly resembled anything close to the average Shinigami, Freyja had sincerely wondered what purpose there was in befriending those who had nearly eliminated their entire existence. Memories of losing her parents at the hands of war, of losing her subsequent father figure, slowly trickled into her mind. Perhaps complacency wasn't such an inaccurate term, after all, but what power did they truly have?

It was foolish to think they currently possessed the ability to supplant a proper oppositional stance against the Gotei. If they wished it so, they could be eliminate them in short order. They couldn't even defeat a single opponent in the form of Ichigo Kurosaki, after all. Doubtless would they be able to go up against an entire force of soul reapers, either. Yet, Freyja didn't reject his way of thought immediately. Quietly sipping her coffee, she directed her gaze towards Lukas, her composed gaze azure providing a stark contrast to those fierce eyes of silver. How to approach this? It was best to offer her opinion on the matter to fill the silence.

"To start, I do not believe you are missing anything, Lukas. We haven't crossed paths too much since we've been here, yes, but I have always kept a close eye on the Vandenreich as a whole. You fought bravely in the battle against Kurosaki Ichigo. You've fought on the front lines and in the shadows, time and again... and you recently felled one of the abnormalities in Africa. There is no need to question your own efforts. To be quite honest I..."

Freyja sighed softly, gazing toward the scenery from her position near the window. She wasn't particularly fond of the way things were lately, either. She was handily defeated without making her way to the battlefield, sidelined by injuries in the aftermath that kept her away, and now they were interacting with soul reapers. No, to go even further, a Shinigami now occupied a position in their forces. Were they truly so ineffective on their own? From her childhood, she had always been raised with the idea of believing that the Vandenreich was a group who proudly welcomed quincy and quincy alone... could she even offer him an explanation on what his vision was - when she herself wondered where his intentions lie? Surely, he held their best interests in mind - for he was the Grandmaster. Their leader.

"I'm not particularly happy with this position we've been occupying, either. Our forces are not quite up to par, and I've always felt that this current way of action has been used to mitigate that. Enemies or not, they are far more superior to us, none of whom could properly battle one man. It is difficult to take action against a clearly superior force, but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow. Now, we've found ourselves welcoming them into our own forces, too..."

She had prayed that Hijiri's inclusion was an outlier, much like Ulquiorra Cifer, but what did it matter? She had no say in any of this to begin with. Her role was that of the loyal soldier who asked no questions, but she could certainly admit that she found the decisions somewhat unsavory.

THE CITY OF LIGHT
A sharp hiss of air between clenched teeth sounded as she spoke, Lukas' disposition turning from defeatist rapidly at her mention of the shinigami. Sparking rage lit the back of his eyes, silver shining bright.

"Another one? What department are they shoving the waste to?" He'd loudly complain; the knowledge of what existing shinigami the Vandenreich had never sat right with the man, adding more to that? The indignancy in his voice was palpable. "If I have to rub shoulders with one of those genociding fucks -"

The man bit his tongue to slide back into his seat, wrinkles tightening across his face as his eyes shut tight. "Sorry." Exhaling slowly, the man snapped off a half piece of bacon. As he silently chewed, his eyes would remain shut, slowly lessening the stress across his brow as he swallowed.

"Okay. You're right, whatever forces we're against right now are stronger than every Vandenreich member I've encountered. Or at least, this version of it." Silver locks were brushed to the side as he crossed arms, cushioning further into his seat.

"But the way I was brought up isn't what the people in charge want. I'm not even close to strong enough, but I can still trounce these newbies they try to coddle. They won't get anywhere we need, so what do I do? I've gone through every channel I can but force."

"Please refrain from calling our new members waste, Lukas. Additionally, please refrain from being so loud. This is a public setting, after all."

Another soft of exhalation of air exited the graceful woman's lips, following the man's words with a measure of scrutiny in her gaze. To be certain, she held a high degree of respect for Lukas, but his temperament clearly left something to be desired. Capable as he was, his manner of expression could be troublesome in public settings such as these. Conversations of this nature were better held elsewhere, where one could avoid wandering eyes and quiet whispers.

Nevertheless, he seemed to acknowledge her own point of view, and Freyja acknowledged his own to an extent. Now that it had been brought to her attention, the Sternritter coordinator wondered about his upbringing. Freyja assumed that their issues could be remedied through a stringent training regimen and spars held between divisions, but what sort of ideas did he house in his own mind?

"Force is never an option. Avoid that at all costs. I wish for our improvement as well as anyone, but we must be mindful of the fact that different generations of our kind will always have opposing viewpoints on how a warrior ought to be trained, how they might improve. Even so, I am curious as to what you suggest is the ideal way of improving our forces. There isn't much I can offer when I am none the wiser regarding your upbringing."

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"Yeah, yeah." Lukas handwaved Freyja's immediate response, a slight shake of his head following. "It's an option, but not for the way things are. A last resort if things turn to shit, you can never forget that." His voice somewhat soured, a coldness in his eyes.

Lukas' worldview was somewhat narrow, although he'd describe it as "defined". Whether that affected how people viewed him in turn; well, he had been plenty obvious about how he felt concerning that.

"My dad," he'd slip away from Freyja, gaze passing through her rather than at her, "piece of shit that he was, had an incredible aptitude as a Quincy. Part of the old, old guard, you know?" His eyes focusing back, Lukas continued.

"I still remember seeing just this, ENORMOUS volley of arrows. As many stars as there were in the sky. 'Course, being a kid, I idolized the stuff. By seven I was wearing this." He motioned with his left arm, the wrapped sanrei a dark silk in the shop's light.

"Not this big back then, but still, a leiden hant! For a kid!" The wonder still in his words, almost excited. "But that's not what I mean. Earlier sanrei adoption could help - Anyway, tell me; do you know anything about Überleben? It's a bit of an.... Older tradition, nowadays."

"True. I won't pretend it isn't a viable option, especially in a scenario where all else fails. In that regard, we share a common wavelength. It is imperative that we improve in some manner. If we truly must engage in more stringent methods, then so be it. Inaction will only work against us in the long run. Still, I hope it doesn't have to come to that... I have faith in our forces."

Indeed, if it truly came down to it, Freyja was not above pursuing any means possible to improve their ranks. If they required being forced to improve rather than being motivated by the tragedy Ichigo Kurosaki left in his wake, she couldn't imagine herself being all that merciful concerning her own fury to those who purposely choose to fall behind. Even so, she had faith in her fellow warriors as it stood, casting that thought away for the moment. For now, she contented herself with listening to the man speaking on his history.

The calm gaze she had maintained during the conversation shifted ever so slightly. Offering a raise of the eyebrow, she carefully absorbed his recount. From the light glimpse into his personal history, his recollection of his father's prowess as a Quincy, and how he was granted a leiden hant at the age of seven. By the time she was seven, the only training she had received was studying archery texts to hone her skill as a proper archer.

What type of household was he raised in? She wondered, a thought rising unbidden. A genuine curiosity.

Then, his next question came. Überleben... Freyja was familiar with many traditions, but this may have been something way beyond her scope of knowledge. Had she chanced across it in any of the quincy texts she read studying under her master? Or did it fall out of popularity by the time she came into existence?

"No. At the very least, I can't recall coming across it in all the texts that I've studied. What did this tradition entail?"