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"I suppose that all you had to do was ask." Shinzou said as he drew his Zanpakutou. He took a two hand grip on the katana and wide stance as he looked over at his Captain. He didn't want to attack his Captain, but he had asked him to do so. Shinzou knew he was terribly over matched here, but supposed that the Captain had some reason for doing this other than just kicking his a**. He took a deep breath and then charged at his Captain, sending a horizontal slashing strike at his midsection, keeping a careful eye on the Shinigami's sword as he went.

Shinzou didn't say anything at all to this, it was a habit of his not to talk during battle. It was true though, his attack was mundane and ordinary. Yet he had never claimed to be a master swordsmen, he had never claimed to be anything, so all this confused him. He did however, easily see Mock's counter coming thanks to his sixth sense and jerked his head back out of the way. He supposed it was time to try something more exotic. As he dodged backwards he did a back handspring and landed, immediately launching into his next attack. He lunged and put his shoulders on a vertical plain, spinning so that his Zanpakutou would come down at the Captain with maximum force. It would probably be fairly easy to block, but it was better than abusing to useless Kidou that he did know, at least, useless against someone like Mock.

Alder recognized a familiar concealing technique, well played by this Amatsu character. He aimed his rapier down, and took the hilt to the chin, preferring that over contact with metal. Amatsu's blade hit Alder's, grinding loudly as steel met steel. Alder, having regained his focus, rose up his heel, and attempted to immobilize Amatsu's Zanpakuto by slamming it into the ground with his heel. This was a very convincing move. However, while in mid fall, Alder halted his foot, and instead aimed another strong kick at Amatsu's lowered face. "Inexperience is something that one may see....but never can you fully predict it." Alder said, his tone more serious that it had been before.

(OH, and before I forget. Life's added a lot of crap to my plate, so I won't be online very much. I'll probably get one or two posts in per day, but I can't guarantee much more than that.)

Alder grinned a bit. He was dumbfounded by the sheer oddness of this man; who would lecture him about being too aggressive, and then just give up. "You perplex em enormously." Alder said, not managing to stifle a chuckle as he sat down on the ground. His hair blew around in the wind again, but this time, it was more even, emphasizing the end of the fight, and setting him into a calm mood. "If only there were more odd people in this world...." He said, rather distantly, as if he was deep in thought.

(( I apologize in advance for the small autohit I'm about to inflict on you. Since this qualifies as a training and I'm a superior officer, I'm allowed to do that, though I dislike doing it anyway. The reason why I'm doing this is because I want to speed things up and start yours and Amatsu's shikai training on this thread, right now.))

As Shinzou came at him, spinning his Zanpakutou, Mock brandished his own at it. Channeling reiryoku into his arm and ultimately the blade, he allowed the energy to be released by the swinging movement of his sword. Though rather effortless for the Captain, it was more than enough to both block Shinzou's attack, as well as throwing him and his sword into the air.

Sheathing his katana, Mock said to Shinzou. For Samurais, their katanas were viewed as being extensions of their own souls. They were so important to them, that many even received names. That's what their swords and our Zanpakutous have in common. By naming something, you're acknowledging that it has an identity. Our Zanpakutous are a part of us. They are a manifestation of our soul. Mock reached for his kiseru and began preparing it while he spoke, by placing in the pipe some tobacco leaves that he kept in a small pouch, stored inside his kimono.I was merely talking with your soul, Shino-kun.

What do you think you're doing here? This is a training ground. Not a playground. You can interpret it from any angle you may desire. But ultimately, we're warriors. We live each day with the burden of the lives we've ended. It's hypocritical to call oneself a warrior without admitting to the blood on our hands. Our blades are the perfect euphemism for our nature. Think of them as tools for defense even, but bottom line, they are tools for cutting. They are tools meant to end lives. A trail of ash came flying from the tip of Mock's scabbard, and landing on top of the tobacco, it lit the pipe, after igniting itself. Mock took a couple of short puffs of smoke, before continuing with his speech.

Don't step into a training ground, unwilling to spar. Don't charge at me without resolve behind your strikes. That was what I meant to test. - Your resolve. It took me less time than what I would ever imagine, to do that. I'm actually disappointed to find it so lacking. Especially in someone like you. Turning away from Shinzou, and slowly walking to where he once was, the Captain said As you are now, you're not worthy of fighting against my blade, my soul, my resolve.

Come talk to me again, once you're ready to answer my other question. What's the difference between pride and conceit.

(( @ Amatsu and Shizou: I'm thinking of doing your shikai training right here and now, on this thread. Are you up for it?

(I'm good with it.)

"I'm the one who should be questioning your resolve. Starting a fight and walking away before it's even started." Shinzou said as he dashed forward and rolled past Mock, his Zanpakutou gripped in reverse and pointing up towards the Captain's throat as he righted himself. "As for the difference between Pride and Conceit. Pride comes from honor and confidence, but only the exact right amount. Fighting someone who truly takes pride in their abilities is something that every warrior looks forward to and something they take pride in doing themselves. Conceit comes from arrogance and over confidence. It spreads like cancer and consumes it's victims. Conceit gets people killed in the end. It's fuel is dishonor, of ones brethren, ones weapons, and one's integrity. When you carry yourself with pride you can overcome anything, though through conceit you are destined to fail." Shinzou said before thrusting his Zanpakutou towards the Captain's throat. As his sword moved closer, he began to read the Captain out of the corner of his eye, looking him over for any hint of what might happen next even before his extra sense kicked in. He would need every detail if he was going to fight his Captain.

...Amatsu continued to stare up at the sky as though the words that were being spoke around him didn't exist, but in all actuality he heard every word. Everything that was said, ever emotion, every shatter of metal was heard and taken in with extreme acuteness. The words Mock spoke were as always wise and understanding, but at the same time harsh and almost to the point of annoying as he spoke to people as though they were children. Amatsu let out a sigh, he shifted a little before planting his hand firmly on the ground beside him. Rolling over he placed both feet just enough on the ground to rise up. Sliding his fingers to the side of his head with his hair falling behind his left ear. A rare thing to happen since Amatsu usually didn't bother to worry about his hair. With his sheathed blade still out of his sash Amatsu placed it on his left shoulder limply. He began to walk toward Mock with a emotionless look upon his face. "What reason was there behind shattering the one thing that separated him from every other soul beyond theses walls? What reason was there to contradict his morals, or honor? Honor is a broad horizon, it can't be centered to one single belief." Amatsu spoke as though he knew Shinzou, but he didn't. This was one thing Amatsu had a bad habit of doing. Standing before others that looked down upon another. Something that should have killed him by now...

...Amatsu cocked his head to the side as he waited for Mock's answer. Keeping the unfaltering look upon his face his position never changed. Amatsu wondered if Mock would draw his sword for the words Amatsu spoke. Mock was on to demand respect, but those words were some that would condemn disdain on his own honor in the presents of so many of his subordinates. A smirk formed over Amatsu's pale cherry lips. He thought of what he had said too late to take them back, but his true thoughts needed to be shown...