Musings Of A Drunken Brat (Kalama, Open to 1)

Her drink burned her throat as it went down, half closed eyes resting on the assassin with intrigue as she took note of her words. There wasn't any reason to not believe her; no Shinigami really had much stake in talking shit about the Gotei's dirty laundry to some human after all, especially one that seemed awful proud of her atrocities. She wasn't much for moral grandstanding herself, but she was curious of what her thought process here, from a load of shits that pretend to care about humanity.

"You could call me that," She'd speak after bottoming her cup, signalling the keeper to get another glass for her, "Someone interested in actually learning about this new age. Though, your claim does have me wonder,"

Poor anxious fellow was quick with getting her another glass, a brief 'thanks' thrown his way as she'd focus back on Kalama, "Quincy aren't exactly like Demons or Hollows, yeah? They're humans, like the humans who members of the Gotei seem inclined on protecting - or at least they claim to. My opinion? We're just numbers on a spreadsheet to them; their care stops when the numbers start,"

Swirling her glass, she'd squint at it closely as she spoke one dire question, "But how is you killing Quincy any different than slaughtering humans?"

Raising her glass for another drink, she'd add with a light shrug, "Sure, they could've caused some disruption, but they're still people at the bottom of it."

Interesting opinion.

Personally, she wasn't offended or angry this woman may have killed her ancestors, rather she was morbidly curious in the psychology of it. Sure, she didn't consider Shinigami people, but they were capable of communing on the level of one, and by extension had their own thoughts and biases. Individuals such as she only informed her of the gap, formed by both age and position in the cycle. When her company spoke more in depth, it did give her an important tag of information - it seemed the Shinigami only cared if souls were outright eradicated. Tch, more like they'd have to do more work, but if Quincy were really killing hollows at such a rate the system was at stake all that time back then, she could understand the interest to not have reality capsize upon itself.

But that didn't make the Shinigami blameless in her eyes, especially not this one with her little, cravings.

"Is that so?" She'd lightly remark as she had made headway into the burn of her second drink, feeling her body warm. Her gaze would roll across the counter as she would present challenge of thought, "If you simply can't help but kill and torment Quincy upon sensing their presence, isn't that just like a Hollow salivating at the mere scent of a Plus? I'd argue many Quincy extinguish Hollows out of self preservation nowadays, but you? You seem real eager for making a sport out of killing the living."

She didn't present this thought in an angry or chiding way, rather she was questioning her - as if she wondered if she even made that connection before.

Feeling the burn of alcohol in her, the woman's words were considered - despite her rather deplorable ways, at least she was self aware in that she'd get put down like the rabid dog she is eventually. But what really caught her attention was that little narrative - don't know any better? She held herself back from making any indication of how ridiculous she thought that was; she's been divorced from the Gotei for seemingly so long, there's nothing else she decided to adopt? Just killing? She supposed she understood, she would be studying and slaying Hollows until the day she died, but that was for a greater purpose, as she told herself.

This just seemed like blind wandering.

"Wouldn't you want to be more than just some lost hound killing chickens for the sake of it?" Her words came out smooth and calm as she took a final gulp of her drink, signalling for more - her expression was dire. Though the flow of poison was in her system, it didn't detract from her ability to engage, "Killing without purpose? Might as well off yourself at that point. I say find a reason to do it or find something better to be using your time on. Wouldn't want to be put down with nothin' but regrets on your mind."

"Woah there, who said anything about a peaceful life?" She'd quickly raise a hand in response, seeming almost to laugh at the idea, "I'm not tellin' you to quit and settle, m' telling you to do something meaningful with yourself. You don't seem all that chipper running on old commands, lady. You're..."

She halted her thought for a moment, reluctant to actually acknowledge this Shinigami as a person, much less such a deplorable one... But, the tightrope walk of conversation didn't pull off well on truths, "no machine, you're capable of your own thoughts and such, yeah? Is offing Quincy for the rest of your life even something you wanna do?"

Her gaze drew to her drink, little hesitation to answer that last question, "Hollows. Big n' small. Yappy and stupid. I study all of them; not for a living - research on devilry most people are too piss scared to understand doesn't exactly pay well. Normally do trophy hunts or craftswork commissions," And a secret third thing, but that wasn't exactly something she could proclaim in public.

What a sad, destructive endeavor, she guessed. These thought loops seemed common, those damned swordsmen lived such long and tailored lives that the mere idea of breaking routine may as well be asking them to die. They were no better than hollows in that regard, just an endlessly marching machine incapable of revision or change, a cartless wheel rolling into an abyss of mindless striding and fighting.

Once again, it disgusted her to acknowledge; it was as pitiful as watching a fox with rabies wreaking havoc on it's nervous system, yet these entities hardly deserved that pity - at least the fox was incapable of knowing what it was doing wrong when it lashes out to bite anything in reach within it's heated delirium.

"Gotcha," She'd let out with a breath, holding back a torrent of words. This one was too valuable to establish poor relations, it was some insight into a time barely recorded, and Catherine was hardly one to allow precious information to slip away from her over her personal distastes.

With the change of topic, she'd sigh and shrug, "It's not like anyone else is doing it. Hardly useful to turn around and squeeze your ears shut hoping the big bad monsters leave you alone. The more you know, the less to fear. That's how we figured out storms were just neutral weather patterns and not a god in the sky angry because your village didn't burn enough cattle that season."