cut me down to size so i can fit inside lies that will divide us both in time

[unburden]

In many ways, dropping one's body temperature is like a gradual forfeit to sleep. As Rukia feels her whole body slowing to a stop, her emotions start to bleed away, like colors fading under blinding light. The ground underneath her feet shudders, an earthquake at her beckoning, as individual blades of grass grow silent and still in their fight to reach the sun.

She's not supposed to be training here, but after a while, any misgivings die entirely. This area is mostly uninhabited by humans and the dense forestry keeps anyone from catching a ready glance of the ice that spreads quickly over the earth, like spiders' legs weaving through the bark of the trees. There's an appeal to letting all of her worries fade.

Besides, her training grounds have been occupied lately.

"Bankai."

Frost covers her surroundings in a precisely drawn circle, spreading over everything in its path, and stemming from Rukia's body itself. Only her eyes retain their color as she glances around. She spares no softness or regard for a bird that gets in the way of her technique.

A swing of her sword brings the nearest tree down, wood shattering into thin splinters.

Comments

[perform_admirably]

As far as Spock is aware, there should be no seismic activity of any significance, in Darrow, unless caused by mine subsidance, or other related issues. But Vulcan had been a highly active planet, in that regard, and his feet recognize the feeling of a tremor, however indistinct and distant. He sets off toward the epicenter on long, quick legs, easily making his way over the uneven forest floor until he knows he's reached the place he'd been looking for.

He steps out into the clearing slowly, curious, but anxious as a deer as his dark eyes rake over the thick frost covering the surroundings unnaturally, in an almost too-perfect circle. The grass beneath his feet crackles and crushes, sounding more like gravel than anything. Spock finds his explanation when his eyes finally find their stopping point, resting on a familiar, small figure.

How unexpected.

"Cryoseism," he decides, acknowledging her. He would summon more concern, if he weren't aware that she wasn't a normal, living, biological entity. More concern, perhaps, if he also weren't out of his depth, ans caught up in his own wonder. "Kuchiki Rukia. Fascinating."

[unburden]

The exercise completed, Rukia turns her gaze gently in Spock's direction. She sensed him approaching from a distance, but saw no reason to hasten their reunion. Of all people who can reasonably assess an unfamiliar situation, Rukia feels confident that Spock is not the type to overreact.

Her heart has started to beat again, barely more than a faint tremor, as the ice enveloping her body starts to melt away.

"Correct. The water in this vicinity froze in less than 0.3 seconds," Rukia says, the breath from her lips immediately fogging in the air, spiraling down. "Causing a quake to pass through the ground from the sudden stress. I tried to localize the effect as much as possible."

The grass cuts against the frost on her sandals, white bleeding into a grassy yellow, as Rukia passes outside of the circle. She regards Spock coolly. "Spock. You're very observant."

[perform_admirably]

"I'm curious," Spock corrects, because to say that he is observant is not necessarily as close to the essential truth. He knows very well that he's lacked observation in the past, that it has caused problems. That his focus on what engages him has blinded him to important facts before.

He watches her carefully, dark eyes bright and mouth slightly parted in question.

"You aren't wearing that artificial body," he points out firstly That's what needs to be addressed first, before he addresses anything else about what Rukia's ability was, the nature of it. What exactly is she.

And why it is that he can see her.

"You have a terrible power. But beautiful."

[unburden]

Terrible, is it?

Rukia turns slightly on her feet, glancing back at the area affected by her bankai. With the pulse in her body still being faint, all that she can see is that the area isn't very vast yet, and the spikes of pain that pierce her body suggest that she still hasn't trained that up to satisfaction either. But, however incomplete, she has still accomplished bankai.

She wonders if Byakuya would ever have expected that from her.

"Power at this scale often is both," Rukia says at last, turning back to Spock. There's a light in his eyes now — curiosity is a good word for it.

"But you're right. I'm currently in my true form, which isn't one that most people are capable of seeing. Your spiritual power seems to be what drives your sight." Rukia tilts her head. "I don't know whether or not it's linked to your Vulcan background."

[perform_admirably]

"It's an outstanding possibility," Spock says, approaching again as Rukia seems neither to need him to hold back, nor to still be unfinished with what she'd done. "But also one that's pointless to speculate about, for now, except as an exercise of hobby. Are you alright, Rukia?" he asks, narrowing his eyes in brief concern as he looks her over. Pain is only evident because he is looking for it, and even then, she conducts herself nearly flawlessly.

"Before arriving here, I had never met a being controlling that much power. You seem to have the ability to arrest the energy in your own form?"

[unburden]

"I'm fine," Rukia says quietly. It doesn't surprise her to find that Spock is perceptive enough to pick up on her pain. It's logical. It must follow the effect of a power like hers. The close of her eyes is the only concession that Rukia makes as she feels her body thaw, a few seconds' reprieve where her primary concern is not the expression on her face. In battle, of course, it will be the other way around.

What is a little damage to her if she can otherwise keep up the guise of being stronger?

"You're right. I bring the energy and movement in everything around me to a complete stop. For now, I can only maintain this state for seconds, moving in spite of my body being functionally dead. The goal is to work up both the mental and physical strength to sustain the state for longer. The progress is... not as fast as I would like," she confesses, raising her gaze to meet Spock's once more. "I want to be prepared for as many eventualities as I can be. I can trust you not to broadly share this information, yes?"

[perform_admirably]

"That you're capable of doing something of such magnitude, however it is that it's capable - I admit to some curiosity - is somewhat astounding. I would think that you are being too 'hard' on yourself by saying that the progress is disappointing. But I have little real concept of what you ought to be capable of. So truthfully, I have no encouragement or advice that I can, in conscience, give. But--"

He moves closer again, pulling a recycled paper towel from the pocket of his jacket. Spock holds it out to her, eyes on the sluggish drip of blood from the long finger of one of Rukia's hands.

"You can trust my word that your information will remain your information, and that I will not share it with a third party unless the alternative will cause more potential harm to you. I can't promise anything more. I am Vulcan. I would not want to force myself into a lie."

[unburden]

"It's not a lie I would personally worry about. Instead, the complication," Rukia murmurs, though her brow already furrows at her own description. Should she be so afraid of breaking the rules, when the very person who has turned most of Soul Society on its side is the one responsible for saving it? She glances down at the paper towel offered her, then takes it with a slight dip of her chin.

The blood blooms over the paper towel, red fading as it stretches out across the fiber.

"Although it's hard to imagine anything as being complicated against the backdrop of this city," she concedes, eyes narrowing. "It's a combination of innate strength and practice, this power. The science behind it... I couldn't explain. I don't honestly know how I came to be born with this much energy. I only understand how it's been forged and tempered over time."

[perform_admirably]

Spock gave a nod of quiet understanding. It wasn't as if he had no experience like that himself, though perhaps his concern was the reverse; he could explain the science behind the Vulcan ability to share thoughts, but to explain the real meaning behind it would have been near impossible. He would never have been able to find the appropriate words.

He lifted his head to peer over Rukia's shoulder, gaze extending to the edges of the circle of white that she had created.

"It is actually its own comfort, in a way, to know that there are individuals here capable of doing things of this nature. Anything could be necessary in the future, including a show of force."

[unburden]

As the frost starts to dissipate, lifting from Rukia's dark locks in a chilly mist, Rukia begins to shiver. Almost imperceptible movement, held down by the discipline and the need to temper her tolerance. Her power isn't very sustainable yet — she has to plan for the face she wears in front of her enemies when it runs out. Brandish the remaining strength, even after the brunt of the force has passed.

She takes a small breath, watching it fog in the air, gaze still distant.

"That's the very reason I've been training lately. I only mastered this particular attack after arriving in Darrow, with the help of a rather radical trainer from my world. The city's threats have been adequately countered for now, but there's no guarantee of that continuing to be the case. It already wields a frightening amount of power over us. I would rather not take that sitting down," she says, the barest of smiles crossing her lips. "But I should mind my manners. How have you been lately, Spock?"

[perform_admirably]

"I would not imagine that it would continue to be the case for long. There will be threats that we haven't anticipated. That will always be the case, no matter where we are. And, knowing this, the only moral choice is to attempt to identify those threats and develop plans to protect ourselves in the aftermath. Even if they aren't the sort of threats which can simply be frightened off."

Spock presses his lips together.

"There isn't any need to ask about my personal life. I don't find that to be ill-mannered. Rather, if there were anything notable to share and a necessity to share it, I would have done so. I am not very capable with smalltalk, for better or worse. And I have been well. Jim Kirk and myself are moving to a home outside of the city."

[unburden]

"I'm not the most capable of small-talk, either," Rukia confesses, wrinkling her nose at the memory of the several months she'd spent in high school with Ichigo. The approach she'd used then and the approach she used when overseeing Rin in school now were completely different. Back in Karakura, she had woven herself into the social circle somehow, becoming popular, trusted, making sure that there was nothing overly suspicious about her.

Here, people don't watch closely enough for that to be a problem.

"A home outside of the city sounds nice, though. I did encounter Jim shortly after the explosion. He seems like... quite the risk-taker," Rukia says judiciously. "I assume the both of you are still exploring ways to leave?"