[ the heart ]

    She could think of, like, three people she knew who enjoyed it. Right off the bat. What a softie this one looked like so far. It was jarring to be reminded that there were bleeding-heart shinigami out there. That had to be one of those ‘idealogical differences’ in their factions that the Grandmaster liked to tout. Still, she liked his manners.  

    “Irma Hildebrand.” Quincy murderess extraordinaire went unsaid.

"I apologize then. I'm being awfully rude, aren't I?"

A gentle jab at a tease was what he was giving, upper half slowly bending at the waist. He presented himself into a small bow, quickly straightening up. He was trying to keep the conversation at pleasantries. He genuinely did not want to fight this woman. It wasn't a matter of immense strength that he felt bubbling beneath the surface of her exterior, but simply because he had no reason to fight her--yet.

    “Guten Abend, handsome.” 

    She had to appreciate a shinigami whose first reaction wasn’t to rattle his saber or throw out an insult, and it felt right to return the courtesy. Even if they did end up dueling to the death, the least they could do was exchange pleasantries like civilized people. You weren’t supposed to rush enjoyable things, in any case.  

"You'd be right...who enjoys killing another living being? I was once told it rips the soul apart..."

He had to ignore the slight compliment he had been given, more focused on keeping the conversation neutral--and not a fight to the death. A polite inclination of his head followed, aqua eyes peering out from beneath raven strands. She seemed polite enough--entirely different about the reports of how brutal the Quincies were being.