#compasionatekiller

[fortunescaling]

He scanned the large conference room with an attentive eye, inspecting every furniture and attentions for his guest, in its every detail and disposition.The chairs, the reflection of the light from the large glass windows on the large round table, the silver trails filled with local delicacies, the porcelain tea service. Everything had to look in place and immaculate for their guest arrival. The Devil’s in the details, they said. And today the devil was his guest. 

As staff rushed to complete the last preparatives, setting the tea ready to serve, tension felt palatable in the room, constricted in an opressive silent that spoke louder than words could convey.

 Jugram could feel the anticipation building in his chest and pounding against his ribs as the decisive moment approached. He hailed one of the soldaten for a glass of water, his throat dry and hitchy. Heated weather, the most likely culprit...

A summit of this nature, or any form of diplomacy between both sides, had not occured in centuries. The decided agreement between the two parties remained highly controversial and largely unpopular amongst the Quincy, regardless of the crisis’ recent escalation. Jugram stood very much alone, struck in a cornelian dilemma between the lesser of two evils. The sword of Damocles hung over his head with very thin restrains.

He conceded he took a huge risk in letting the enemy in, right into their territory. He had not even yet settled in his mind on the new Captain Commander and his intentions. There was a side to the man’s character beneath the nonchalant façade, a lingering shadow behind the mask, he found extremely unsettling. Friend or foe? It remained to be decided. 

For now, he’d have to rely on his instincts. And as much as he resented to admit, they had very little options left to choose to mitigate the on-going health crisis. The Shinigami far surpassed them in medical training and advances. Meanwhile a very few people amid his kin aspired to a medical career, for the studies were long, costly and poorly rewarded. Little State money invested in professions deemed secondary to defense and combat. 

Now they paid the price for their poor political judgment. 

Perhaps, the Gotei’s medical staff and its new Captain woud prove, at the very least, reliable with a reasonable sense of ethics and morals. Perhaps, Kyoraku would prove sounder than his predecessor in his elected leadership, where his medical division was concerned. 

Perhaps, a leap of exaggerated optimism. One could dream. 

But if no further actions was taken, Jugram’s comrades would continue to die all the same, anyway. A grim future he would rather not entertain.  

If the discussions went south, he could always back down. After all, he'd only agreed to meeting with their medical unit, presenting the situation and facts, to discuss options for an hypothetical cooperation. He’d made neither commitment nor formulated an official appeal for assistance. A significant nuance.

Should the Gotei have any doubts about the nature of this meeting, he’d eagerly relieve them of any further confusion. As he’d always made his stance very clear in their diplomatic correspondance. 

Despair would not subdue them. The Gotei 13 would be well-advised to keep that in mind. 

'Sir, your guest has arrived.'  Another soldat said, his voice crackled with anxiety. Jugram would lie to say he didn't share in the sentiment, but he didn't have luxury of letting any of it transpire. And his pride would forbad he did. 

 'Very well. You may let them in. We are ready.' He said, straightening his shoulders as he walked torwards the front of the door, hoping to strech the stiring tension knot in his scapula. Ready and steady for an unpleasant round of perfunctory courtesy. 

The wooden floor ornated with a silk carpet of the finest quality, at Jugram’s specific demand. A common decorum for honoured guests of Litchreich. For, indeed, he could not think of a greater honour for Shinigami to be graciously invited in the very land, sullied and held in contempt by their ancestors. Without any due asked in return. 

In a land where no one wanted them. In a land where they’d be reminded of their rightful place.

@compassionatekiller