Death Knell's Toll [Vicente, Catherine]

His eyes narrowed as she spoke, not really caring much about what her name was. As her hand moved to pull out the notebook, however, he was quick to react, a hand resting on his Zanpakuto, while the rest of his arm set against the tsuba of the other swords at his side. Anyone would be able to notice the notably foreign and more conventional design of the others, compared to the almost life-like design of his own. The bumpy, vein-like protrusions along the handle and sheath of his sword seemed to idly pulse, as if it were alive.

Her questioning was...confusing. Why would she want to know about what he could see? Did she plan on attempting to either grow two more sets of eyes herself, or even attempt plucking out his own? Nevertheless, with a collective roll of all six eyes, Vicente would close a set in sequence, opening them moments later, as well as forcing each of them to look in a separate direction. It irritated his head more than anything and was far from being in any way useful.

"It looks as it always has. Just, with a wider field of view, I suppose."

His own words prompted him to close the top and bottom sets of eyes, turning his head from side to side in order to look around. His view was wider -- perhaps a little higher, with the addition of the upper set. Yet, it was hardly something he thought about, even less so for others. What reason was there in asking of something that was entirely part of one's core aspects of life?

"Why bother asking questions of such trivial and unimportant matters?"

Wuff, so strong but so jumpy, her pen got to work in no time. She was surprised such a serious guy was willing to actually entertain her prodding, the mesmerizing show of eyes opening and closing, looking about, it sparked some excitement in her chest that she'd never let escape, the scratch of her pen on the pad obvious as she wrote both notes and drew pictures of what she witnessed and heard.

"Pff, trivial? Unimportant?" Rolling her own eyes, she'd grin, "Pretty rude way to talk about yourself. All these little things add up to what makes you you, and what makes up you," Gesturing to him, and then back to herself, "Is different from what makes up me. So, of course i'd wanna ask about these 'trivial' things. It makes understanding you more substantial. Like, heh, a car's smaller and less impressively built than a plane, but they're both made up of smaller, less remarkable bits that make the far more interesting whole, and if they didn't have those parts they just wouldn't be the same."

For him, there were far more important things to be concerned over than the intricacies and uniqueness of their physical appearance. His eyes held little significance outside of niche circumstances, both in combat and in everyday life. The answers she sought about them did not fall into either of those circumstances. He peered down at the smaller creature, looking at what she had pulled out and what she intended to scribe.

Drawings and notes. Normally, the idea would be sound, but the topic and notes she scribbled were ultimately irrelevant outside of being essentially trivia.

"They matter not. There are far more prevalent and important traits to concern one's self with when observing another. Their build, to determine and assess their level of physicality and strength, as well as durability and swiftness. Their weapon, so as to determine their fighting style, or lack of one."

His eyes widened in irritation as he glared down at her, his hand lifted from his sword to gesture at the respective areas of her body, before his own arsenal in reference to his second point.

"Physical traits should only be of concern if they are to be a problem. If an opponent has multiple eyes, find a way to disable them all at once or avoid the dangers of them entirely. There is no point in learning essentially trivia about a particular creature unless you have already killed them, with plans to dissect."

Still writing, even as the guy ran his mouth about how pointless her fixations were, brows raised as she let out a low 'hmm' and 'haa' ever so often, eyes picking up every little bit of physical feature she could poke or speculate upon.

"Looky, I gather information in the way I want. For all I know, your eyes do something amazing, or could do something amazing. I don't dismiss the little things cuz they could also turn out to be important later. See the forest for the trees and all that."

Her casual waving off of his annoyance would have her press on to slowly approach him - she was curious, not careless: if he was going to perform another rude little stunt like a minute ago, she was fully prepared to react to it.

"That's the gnarliest lookin' sword i've ever seen," She'd wave a hand in gesture to it, "Pull it out for me? Preferably without trying to take my fingers off."

One of his lower eyes twitched in irritation as the woman ignored him, writing down whatever information she felt necessary about his physiology. Fingers lightly danced along his sword's handle, occasionally drifting down to the cold, almost ribbed sheath. Part of him contemplating beheading her this instant -- but, the other part of him that sought to investigate her style of investigation and understanding held him back.

The eyes narrowed as he reached for his Zanpakuto, drawing it from the belt of his hakama and holding it at each end with a hand. It was notably different from the five others he had, distinctly pale and almost grotesque in appearance, with bulging, vein-like protrusions haphazardly trailing all along the sheath. Both handle and sheath also held ominous designs strewn across them, a pattern eerily similar to his eyes.

"Retorcida...very well then," he mumbled as he drew the blade.

The pattern of eyes continued onto the steel itself -- though the light glint of the edge showed that it still held no less deadly capability. He had noticed that many Arrancar -- particularly those who had been artificially created by the altanero Aizen, had Zanpakuto that merely looked like average weaponry. His, however, truly looked to be a part of him -- what the purpose of their weapons had always been described as. Perhaps it was an effect of that objeto -- it was, in it of itself, a miracle, after all.

"What could you possibly wish to know about it?"