Sengoku had no idea what he'd been thinking. He stared at the Rukon men and women assembled before him. They were all strong of body and mind, tough folk who had seen enough fighting with the Hollows to know their way around a battlefield. Everyone had a drink in hand, there were some eating food. Sengoku had called this meeting a while ago, but it took time to get folks assembled. The Rukongai had been content with its borders for a while, but it was time to start thinking ahead to the future. Already, the rukon citizenry were seeing a boost in population. More people were being born, fewer were dying. The same was said of the Seireitei. For too long, the Rukongai and the Seireitei had been happy with what they had, but Sengoku was worried that with the growing population, their children and grandchildren would see food shortages in the future. Sengoku hoped to prevent that. There were, of course, other reasons.

"Seems like everyone who's going to be here has already arrived, so let's get down to business." He leaned against his bar, taking a drink from a tankard in his left hand. Haiiro, the little grey dog, sat on the bar, to his right. The little pup tilted its head and looked pleased as could be with the proceedings. Sengoku ruffled the dog's ears and took in the sight. It was standing room only, the place was packed.

"We're going to take back the fourth district." He let his words sink in for a moment, taking another drink. "Not all at once mind you, but piece by piece. The Fourth District has been empty for far too long. It's got plenty of land: fertile soil, towering trees, clean water. The fact that it borders Hueco Mundo is a minor inconvenience at the most. Its proximity to the great desert hasn't stopped bandits and the like from populating the area. I'll be damned if I'm going to let their ilk keep that territory." He reached behind the bar and pulled a rolled up map off of the shelf. he spread it out on a table in the middle of the room, and a few men and women leaned over to see. It was a map of the Seireitei, the Rukongai, and the Fourth District. Outlined in red was a modest swath of land, a perfect square directly in front of the Eastern Gate. it stretched to just two miles short of the border with the wastelands, making a total swath of land about one hundred square miles. It was a good start: Large enough to be respectable, and could be held with enough man power.

"The plan is fairly simply. We go in, we establish a base. It doesn't have to be much, but I'm hoping for some walls, a proper long-house, and some watch towers. From there, we expand throughout the territory, moving in large groups. We find a hollow, we kill it. We find a bandit clan, we give them the option of joining us or dying. We'll secure the region, we'll put up walls, and go from there. It's good, fertile farm land. We can raise cattle there, raise families. We just have to keep the hollows out, same as we did here. It'll be hard, bloody fighting, but we NEED to do this. The hollows took that land from us. The shinigami let them keep it. We can take it back, for ourselves, and for our children, and our children's children. The Shinigami haven't made any attempts to take it back, so it's up to us, the Rukon Citizens, to do it for ourselves."

"You idiot! You never learn?! Why on earth are you here, you imbecile!"

He couldn't argue with himself.

"This is not the first time you've seen some hot head come up with some plan to gain land. And what are you doing here? You said to yourself that you'd never darken the door of this place after your run in with that uncouth runt."

Also true. So, why was Yoshiya here? He didn't know. The truth was Yoshiya was an impulsive moron, still able to be taken by a whim, still able to have hope. No matter how much he tried to deny this, no matter how often he found he was better keeping away from others as much as possible, he was still taken by the Rukon spirit, for this anarchical tribe to band together and take action together.

The plan wasn't too bad either. Taking baby steps at a time, not being too ambitious. There was one major flaw though. Sure, they could probably hold 100 square miles. But what about the next hundred? And the next hundred? Hopefully more would settle in the newly taken territory, and they could guard it themselves. He suspected that was Sengoku's intention.

And whilst he couldn't study the map intently, pretty much being only able to see a red square with, given the key, was about ten by ten square miles, he didn't see anything significant about this specific square. He would have preferred more of a triangle shape. The shape was more defensible, less of it was deeper in the fourth, and there was less chance of a pincer attack taking off the head of their future base. No, what was he thinking? These were beasts, they wouldn't be that organised.

Still, he calculated the dimensions of said triangle. It came out as having sides 14, 14 and 20. It would cut their exposed perimeter down from 30 to a little over 28 square miles, a reduction just over 5%. There wasn't a great advantage their either. Not worth raising, it probably wouldn't be worth the hassle of the odd length of the shorter sides. Fourteen was awkward enough, no matter it being 14.14 something. And shorter sides meant less mistakes in building, as did simpler angles. The square did have its advantages. He decided to keep his mouth shut. The man probably wouldn't have raised it anyway.

Although, looking at the map couldn't help but fill him with memories of that Yamakoshi fellow. Had that welp drawn this map? It was of no consequence.

"Yoshiya, you know what is going to happen. They are going to fail, and you are going to go and mope in your cave for a few days."

Again, he couldn't argue with himself, that was the most logical outcome. But, it was worth a shot, right?

He didn't go in for fancy words and flashy speeches. Rip liked that about him. Sengoku was a rough, rude, angry fellow. But he knew how to lead men. And he was pretty good at it. To be honest, the hermit wasn't all that interested in 'taking back' the Fourth. He lived there and, all things considered, did fairly well for himself. Specifically, he was still alive. But the concept intrigued him. The idea that the Citizens could work together in a fashion not unlike the Shinigami was something worth paying attention to.

He stood near the back. He wasn't much use in a fight. At least, in a fight where one participant didn't come out alive. A good old fashioned brawl, flesh on flesh, he could do that. Hold his own. But what the barkeep was talking about was more steel on flesh. Bloody work. Rip didn't even carry a blade. But no matter. He wasn't there to kill hollows. In fact, you survived in the Fourth by doing just that; not killing hollows. But then, why was he there?

To observe. That's what he told himself.

There were a lot of people in the bar. He recognized a few of them. It had been a while since he was last there, but he knew the regulars. He could help them. He knew the Fourth, probably better than most of the men here. He could act as a scout, a guide, something. Couldn't he? Maybe. That was dangerous thinking, though. Start by trying to help, then trying to save, then getting yourself killed. If you want to survive in the Fourth you have to understand one thing; you can only help yourself. Trying to be a hero is asking for a short life. There are no heroes in the Fourth.

And even if there were, heroes are just people who get other people killed.

He kept his mouth shut. He was only there to observe.

Entering the Notched Axe, just around the second part of Sengoku's speech, was at first a hooded-figure. Ubaga brings down the garment concealing his head to better hear the man's word. He sounded alive and inspiring, well, at least so was that of his tone of voice. Wandering forward between the patrons, he arrives to better view the partchemnt in which was being gazed upon by a few others. By his immediate understanding it was a lyout of the land, a wide one at that. Ubaga's eyes rise up from the map and lock-on to Sengoku whom was just but a couple feet away. A grin curls slightly in the corner of his mouth before he calls out in greeting, "]Why hello there, Sengoku. What is this I hear about reclaiming of the Fourth?" Without a doubt the overall general presentation of Ubaga's greeting held a certain fiery curiosity. Afterall it was a goal that the two might share in common, and so with his dominant hand he reaches downward into an old, dark green satchel that was hanging off his torso and at his side. "I don't mean to rudely butt-in after having only heard only partial of your proposal, but I feel I have grasped the idea in which you are trying to portray. You mentioned a base of operations, I am willing to put my skills forth for your movement in the clearing of the Fourth. I can build-" Just then he withraws his hand from the satchel with three scrolls in hand. "-a headquarters, as well as rebuild or reshape the Fourth after the we've compeltely eradicated the present Hollow threat."

SPOILER: Click to show

Ok, so I've given everyone more than enough time to get in here. As such, I'd appreciate it if folks would make sure they have a damn good reason to be in on this.

Sengoku Looked around at the crowd, gauging reactions. So far so good. No one had called him an idiot or stormed out. He recognized some familiar faces, folks who came into the tavern from time to time. Watson and Rip looked interested at least, both examining the map and the plans. Then there was Ubaga, who, in his bold and ostentatious fashion, strutted right to the front of the tavern and laid his own plans down. Irritating, Obnoxious, and just plain rude, it made Sengoku tighten his jaw. After their last encounter, and the insults laid at Sengoku's feet by the crusty old bastard, he was certainly less than pleased to see Ubaga in his tavern, especially now of all times.

His little speech sounded exactly like the kind of spew Sengoku would expect from the spiteful son of a bitch. But Sengoku wouldn't let his initial mistrust color his review of Ubaga's plan. First off, his plan was rather broad in scope and lacking in details. "Putting the cart before the horse, aren't you, Ubaga?" He raised an eyebrow, but didn't look amused at all. "We haven't even plotted a proper place to build. We haven't marked off the territories yet. We haven't even cleared a path to the damn location, but you're already talking about building like this is a done deal. I'm trying to raise support, you ass, and you're in here acting like you've already got an army ready to march out. We'll go over your blue prints in a minute. Until then you can sit down, or get out." It came out, perhaps, a bit harsher than it should have.

The message couldn't have been clearer. This was Sengoku's meeting, in Sengoku's Tavern, held by Sengoku's rules. He neither appreciated, nor approved, Ubaga barging in and trying to hijack the event. "Now then, back on topic. As I was saying before, I want to take back the Fourth District, but it's going to take time, patience, and planning. Make no mistake, this isn't some weekend raid: this is a Campaign. We could die. Some of us WILL die. I'm sorry, but if we pursue this, it's going to happen. There will be fighting, there will be pain and bloodshed, but in the end it will be worth something. We live for centuries. We have all the time in the world to do this, and we can afford to take baby steps here and there, but we must take steps. We have to begin somewhere, and I say we begin here. We begin now. We begin with gathering our numbers and preparing. I know you people: You're sharp, skilled folks. Good in a fight. We've done well, but we need to do better. This means training. This means preparing. Stockpiling weapons and supplies."

Sengoku had been planning this or a while now. He had a rough course plotted, a bearing, a direction to head. He knew the path, but he knew they needed to be patient. Baby Steps might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn't far off. Sengoku had a stockpile of weapons in the shed behind the tavern, but his little band of warriors needed to know how to use them. Especially...

"Anyone who wants to partake in this is going to learn how to use a bow." He walked behind the counter top and took something from a shelf, lifting it up and then letting it down where everyone could see it. It was a short, about two feet long, maybe more, maybe less, and made of what appeared to be wood and horn. It was strung, and each arm looked like a slightly deformed "S". It was a recurve bow: Short, compact, and capable of a rather convenient range. "This is going to give us an edge against the Hollows. This is going to help us take back the Fourth."

SPOILER: Click to show

Any problems with this post, let me know.

Tiny feet scampered along the cobblestone, sometimes earthy-dirt roads, leading a petite frame along the streets of the Rukongai districts. Although her short stature provided a lessened length to her stride, Ume made up for it with frequency; taking quickened steps. She wore her division uniform with pride, so it seemed, her shinobi-shozoku styled clothes fluttering briefly as the loose fabric moved in conjunction with her body and in opposition with the 'wind' she seemed to create. Her onxy clothes, even the fabric which concealed her lower face, signified the Shinigami, along with her sleeveless crop-top-jacket Haori, which also swayed with each passing motion. While her zanpakutou rested upon her sides, no effort given to summon them as she strode to her destination. Her hair was neatly kept in a bun with loose pieces pulled back against her ears; allowing those pumpkin eyes to scan each and every detail as she wove through the roads.

Left turns, right turns and eventually the Taichou came upon a specific area within the third district: the Notched Axe. While Ume occasionally visited the place for a casual drink, she often strayed from socializing; however, you could say Sengoku was an 'acquaintance'. Ume didn't know him too well, but knew him based on her experiences and time dealing with certain areas within the Rukongai because of her job. She was very passionate about helping people, of course; obvious events fueling her to rebuild what was once lost. Her men would be on the way shortly to justify this cause... Well, hopefully they would be on time.

Little did Ume know that she would be walking into what was a meeting of the Rukongai Citizens, noticing a rowdy bunch - although common in Sengoku's tavern - but an unusually large crowd dwelling inside. How did she pick up on this? Well, the windows likely helped her deduce the fact, given the transparent plane to look into and physically see the cramped conditions. As she slipped into the door frame, leaning against it, whilst her arms folded across her chest and she listened in, Ume's eyes surveyed the tavern in suspicion; though they hardly feigned judgment, fright or anger. In fact, they feigned their usual indifference, despite the emotions stirring within her. Perhaps Sengoku could see her at the entrance of the tavern, perhaps not, but either way she listened with her ears, and thought with an open mind. Maybe the onlookers, spectators and the mass of drunkards would turn to her direction and shake her head in disgust, or even grow violent, but Ume would do her best to keep the peace. It seemed, unfortunately, that tension was likely in the air with regards to the Shinigami, and Ume couldn't help but blame herself for her 'inactivity'. While it was not solely her job to uphold peace between Shinigami and Rukongai citizens, Ume's part would have at least contributed as a positive factor. This realization, sadly, put reality into perspective. 

It was imperative, at this moment in time, for Ume to remain friendly, helpful, but most importantly, harmless. Well, surely they would think a tiny woman was harmless, no?

She obviously missed a bunch of discussion, but she caught little bits and pieces of the end of Sengoku's current speech. For now, silence on Ume's part, but she remained nonchalant, cool, yet aware of her surroundings; the lingering thought that hopefully, just hopefully, the men with supplies would arrive.

Taisho and the others would hardly miss her standing in the open doorway with her uniform... Would they?

The meeting drolled[footnote:1]To save you searching for the meaning of this Irishism, here it means “To continue on” but there is a suggestion of dullness.[/footnote] on. Yoshiya sensed concern emanating from somewhere behind him. The increased heat, the stiffness of breath. Yes, someone else was apprehensive about this plan. This reassured the infamous cynic. Not all here were coasting along in the moment, devoid of reason, their minds dulled by drink. Not levelling that accusation at their host however, Yoshiya was sure Sengoku had been considering this idea for a while. However, events were to transpire which were to shake Yoshiya’s faith in the barkeep, albeit only temporally for, who should wander in, but him.

“What on earth is that blowhard doing here?”

Yes, ‘that Yamakoshi fellow’ had entered the bar. A sense of dread fell over the old man, as he recollected upon the last time they had met. It was too soon. And he spoke with Sengoku with much familiarity. If this upstart this numpty, this utter fool, this incorrigible pug, this irredeemable knave had such an intrinsic role in this scheme, then it was doomed to fail. Yoshiya gripped his staff tightly.

The feeling was temporary, for then Sengoku responded to Yamakoshi. And it was a glorious admonishment. They knew each other, they had met before, and Sengoku had come to broadly the same conclusion. The order to ‘sit down, or get out’ was a nice touch. A good number of them were standing. To sit down was not only to establish him as below Sengoku, but below most of those assembled. And of course, if it did come to eviction, Yoshiya would take pleasure in doing so himself. Sadly, it was probable that Sengoku was the sort who would rather do that himself. A shame.

The rest of Sengoku’s speech also served to boost Yoshiya’s respect to the orator. He was brutally honest on the risks and time scale, but this did raise some further concerns inside Yoshiya. If they were going to be out so long, then they would need fed. And if they were out there, they were not working, and wouldn’t be earning money to sustain themselves. He shot a glance towards Ubaga. Maybe this self confessed philanthropist would be willing to sponsor the cause. He stifled a sneer.

Yoshiya wasn’t so hot on the idea of bows, however. He had no qualms on learning archery. Indeed, being familiar with a bow would be an advantage to Yoshiya, but he feared its usefulness in this campaign was limited. From his studies, it appeared that Hollows were fairly proficient at ranged combat. They could fire faster, harder and more fluid than he suspected most of them could with a bow. Furthermore, they needed range to fire from. The fourth was a mass of rubble and clutter.

He’d need to check the range on the things, but archery was pretty much confined to assassinations in his mind, shooting targets before they saw you. He did acknowledge he could be completely wrong, however. These were preliminary observations.

Someone else entered. Yoshiya turned to look to their new member then panicked. It was unlikely. Unlike Ubaga, Yoshiya had kept his cloak drawn tightly round him. Furthermore it had been many years. And it was doubtful that she would have recognised him, should he be in uniform in Seireitei. But he recognised her. Ume Tachibana. Fifth division Taichou. Her uniform revealed her station well enough, even if he hadn’t have recognised her appearance. Even so, he kept cautious. He didn’t want recognised.

“Has she come to arrest me for desertion?”

It was true, he hadn’t exactly told anyone he was leaving, just walked out and never returned. Still, after all these years, in a place he didn’t frequent. It was unlikely. He still didn’t want recognised, however. It would lead to awkward questions.

Regardless, it was good to see the fifth in the Rukongai, outside of the first and second districts. They were paying them to be here, after all.

Reality was a fickle mistress, especially when one looked at reality from the purview of a being set outside it. In this case, the shifting of reality was a tender thing, a gentle sigh set within a tavern, and as Sengoku reached for his bow, reality did not shudder, but instead quivered, as though responding to the gentle caress of a lover, and the bow flattened, taking a two-dimensional appearance - rather than a bow, Sengoku now grabbed a framed chalk-drawing, extremely detailed, so much so it could be argued this was the single most realistic chalk drawing of a bow to have ever graced the sight of man. This was art that deserved a place upon a mantle.

Naturally, the occasion would not be marked by the comprehension of anybody involved. Even Sengoku, who likely had seen the bow every day for hundreds of years, would look upon this drawing as though a familiar friend, not because the bow had just become a drawing, but because the bow had always been a drawing. Indeed, no new weapons were suddenly created and generated here, nay - only the drawing of a bow, to convey the message. This would be a useful and dangerous weapon, all would know, once they obtained them. But until then, they could marvel at the message conveyed in this hyper-real drawing in chalk, the medium of a master.

SPOILER: Click to show

In case it weren't obvious, Mod Post.

[bgcolor=250517]

Quiet.

<sub>A whisper of movement, and the pitter-patter of small, petite feet; bereft of coverage, barefoot. Curly tufts of wisteria and lavender swirl about lazily, splashing through the wind and splaying against a pale white color of skin, accenting it quite nicely.

Those wispy curls, like lavender clouds, slowly become more and more apparent, drifting in the gentle breeze generally generated by gentle, fluidly continuous motion--in this case, the running of a child. A small, young child, at that.</sub>

Distant.

<sub>Even running as she was, it took a bit of time for the girl to reach the tavern she occasionally enjoyed paying a visit to, for they gave her cooled milk on many a hot summers day, and piping hot tea or chocolate on many a frosty winters morn. Curiosity shows like a lighthouse beacon in her eyes, giving reason to why it, despite her apparent running, takes her quite a while to reach her destination.

At the same time, dark violet eyes retained a heavily guarded, slightly withdrawn look, giving a sign to her ultimate disconnectedness with the world around her.</sub>

Warmth.

<sub>Tonight, the child seeks warmth, and the comfort of being around other people yet with the isolation of being on her own... Except for her toy, and best friend in the whole world; though the big ball of brown fluff was nothing but a giant ball of cotton stained with dirt and held together with but the remnants of a once very rich, very soft outer cloth, she all but revered the raggedy little thing for it was at her side at all times. Neither rain nor shine; sleet nor snow; heaven nor hell could keep her from her bear, Mr. Fuwa.

And with the thing in hand, the child steps slowly into the tavern, pushing the door open and eyeing the large grouping of even larger adults for a moment before she jumps, spotting one of them leaning nearby; against the doorframe, even. "S-sorry..." She mutters in a quiet, obviously timid tone, before she edges away from the woman and around the back of the crowded room. She was always, always wary and watchful of the grown ups; most couldn't tell their head from their ass or their hands from their feet, and a good bit of the time neither could she. She is careful to stay a good distance from them all for now, just holding her raggedy bear close and remaining almost painfully mindful and aware.</sub>[/color]

SPOILER: Click to show

If there are any issues, let me know and I'll try to fix it, lol. Edit was to fix my colors, I figured out why it wasn't working.

This was becoming interesting, if only for the interactions among the apparent major players. Rip didn't know this Ubaga fellow, but it appeared that a few of the other patrons did. As well as Sengoku. They didn't seem particularly pleased to see him. He was definitely odd looking, but that probably wasn't the reason for their hostility. No matter. If it was important, Rip would find out soon enough.

And then the bow was revealed! An interesting thought. If they made enough, and everyone learned how to use them, it could give them a bit of an edge. But he didn't think it would tip the scales. He wondered what Sengoku was thinking, what his plan was to make bows the game changer. Honestly, Rip knew a man who could shoot lightning out of his fingers. What good is a bow to him? There were probably many people who could produce equally lethal projectiles. The Rukon was great and varied. There was more than a good chance they could find a fighting force of ranged combatants.

He kept quiet though. Sengoku would explain. Probably. And if he didn't, no matter. Rip probably didn't need to know. He was there to observe, anyway.

And so he observed a rather short Shinigami enter the tavern. Well, he observed the people around him react to someone entering the tavern, but he had to adjust his position to get a better view of the door before he could actually see the diminutive individual. Using his limited knowledge of the Shinigami hierarchy, he understood that this one was a Captain. She dressed a little unorthodox compared to the standard uniform, but he supposed that was one of the perks of Captaincy. He kept an eye on her. Shinigami always made things terribly interesting.

He didn't, however, notice the three foot tall bundle of purple slide into the building. Amongst so many adults, she was easily lost in the crowd.

Ubaga chuckles softly while shaking his head and saying, "You do have my apologies, my intrusion was very rude. And I'm also sorry if I made the implication of heading out immediately, I am only offering my knowledge and skills to further that of your cause. Consider me a supporter, if you would have me, and we'll leave it at that." Ubaga briefly shuffles through the tree withdrawn scrolls and chooses the one labeled, "4th District - A1 - Layout/Legend" and sets it neatly at the side of the opened scroll owned by Sengoku. In that one scroll they would find an updated layout of every building, street, home, as well as potential locations for Hollow nests and Bandit/Rebel hideouts. Ubaga stuffs the other two scrolls back into his satchel while he turns away from the table and he begins heading back through the small crowd of gathered people, heading way back toward the tavern to find some seclusion. Picking up the nearest empty table, he plops his rear down into wooden chair and takes out some notes. With his back to the patrons, his briefly glances back to make sure nobody was starring and that's when he notices a few fresh faces, a couple of which caused him to raise a brow. The Taicho and small child. Though he doesn't dwell in the curiousty even briefly for there was third patron that catches his eye, that old fella he told to go take a dirt nap. Ubaga frowns as he thinks back on how he lost his temper, but before Yoshiya would be able to meet eyes with Ubaga, he shakes it off and turns back to his papers. Pulling out a writing utensil, the man begins to scrawl down some words.

Sengoku gave the scrolls Ubaga laid down a cursory glance. The old man had been planning, but he was in the wrong stages. Unless he had some sort of army tucked away in the backwoods of the fourth district, those plans would be worthless without manpower to support them. Sengoku set the chalk drawing down on the table, next to the map, and tapped it gently with his finger, careful not to smudge the drawing. "I've been working on something new, something for the Rukon Citizens. I know, many of you have talents that let you launch blasts of reiatsu, even spells similar to the Kido of the shinigami, but not all of us do. We NEED range. We need to be able to drop the hollows before they can get to us, and this is how we do it." This was a war effort. Sengoku had other plans, but first he had to sell them on this. He could see interest in some of their eyes, concern in others. Some looked like they were just here for the drink. "I've been speaking with the craftsmen I've got working on this. They've been doing tests, trying to give us a smaller bow with enough power to throw an arrow further than any longbow. This is what they've come up with. If we can t enough people behind enough bows, we can rain death down on the hollows before they can even bring one of their doom blasts to bear."

Sengoku, caught up in the meeting, noticed neither Ume, nor Fuji. Haiiro though, being the precocious little scamp he was, noticed the purple hair of a short individual, and immediately thought 'fun!'. He scampered down from his perch on the bar, landing oon the floor with a little "oof". The gray ball of fur padded through the crowd, wiggling his tail as he came to the feet of wee Fuji. He sat back on his haunches, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, and gave a little yap of greeting. His ears popped straight up, and he quite obviously wanted to play.

"There's more than just the bows though. I'm sure some of you have seen the Silver Reiatsu techniques that members of our guard use. We're going to need those too, lots of them. Most of all, we're going to need food, and supplies. We're going to need training. I can't stress this enough, we need to prepare for this. If we go running off into the Fourth District, half cocked, we'll be slaughtered. We have to do better. I don't want to ask this of you, I know it would be hard to give up your land, your work, your families for any amount of time. But this needs to be done, for the sake of a better future. For the sake of the Rukon, we need to push this infestation back out into the wastelands from whence it came." There was passion and fire in his voice, and he cast his eye around the room, focusing on the faces he knew, on the people he knew. He wanted this. He needed this. They all needed it. He just had to make them see.

SPOILER: Click to show

Really sorry for the delay, guys.

Oh, that horrible sensation that all eyes were on you; as if the spotlight had hit a deer in headlights. In fact, being the center of attention bothered Ume, but not to an extent that she would be frantic or lash out in anxiety. No, not to that extreme! However, the heat began to rise up into her cheeks as she flushed, luckily obscured by the fabric covering majority of her face. For now, those pumpkin-eyes glanced back at some of the patrons casting their distaste at her, before her oculars either quickly averted or focused on Sengoku: the true master schemer and head of this 'operation'. She couldn't quite understand the presentation... a portrait of some long stick and string? Distance, setting and a literal inability to see deceived those uniquely-orange eyes.

"Ooh," Ume softly expelled between her parted lips as the door creaked open, at first rather appalled at surveying a child enter the tavern; but stiffly shrugging afterward to resume her casual observation of the happenings in this hopefully child-friendly shop? "It's okay!" The young adult said in a semi-sweet, semi-cool voice, hoping to reassure the child that Ume was fine. For but a brief moment, the woman would watch as the girl with lavender hair, dark violet eyes and an 'expired' teddy bear slither her way into the tavern and seclude herself momentarily, as if cautious and suspicious of all the people.

Maybe the child had a hunch? A gut-wrenching intuition of an ill-fated predicament?

The nonchalant transaction and offering of scrolls perked her curiosity, returning her thought directly to the gathering at hand. What exactly was that male fellow exchanging, anyway?

Sengoku's voice enticed the crowd, so it seemed; at least enough to allow him to voice his concerns, his strategies and goals. Ume was rather impressed with his cognitive ability and critical thinking skills. His knowledge in combat, specifically tactics and effective 'warfare', as it were, led Ume to believe that he had obviously pondered this many a-time. Had her presence shifted his dialogue carefully to target hollows, instead of Shinigami? Was Sengoku actually planning to assault both? A weapon sugar-coated to this caliber would likely raise distrust between Shinigami and the Rukongai Citizens, or skepticism in the least.

Ume herself doubted that these Rukongai Citizens disliked the Shinigami to an extreme to turn hostile toward them. She had too much faith, she presumed. Realistically speaking, Ume did have Rukongai relatives: her father, Masato, her biological mother and her step-mother. So she not only wanted to help remain friendly, but she had family to protect as well, like the many men and women associated with this 'affair'.

Taking over the fourth district right away wasn't a pursuable goal in a night, per se, but with time it could manifest into their destiny. The Seireitei and the Rukongai naturally coexisted in a symbiotic relationship -- both provided the necessary needs and supplies to one another. It was imperative for Ume to establish some sort of involvement in this plan not only for the supplies, but for strength within the loosely woven bond.

Quite an effective speaker, Ume couldn't help but realize the heat still lingering against her alabaster cheeks and her heart fluttering like the rising beats of battle drums; the discovery of a natural leader was uplifting and motivating, especially for those with extinguished flames. Not necessarily expressing affection for Sengoku, Ume was, however, extending her respect.

Standing lazily, Ume began traversing the gap between herself and the 'preacher', slipping through the crowds with relative ease and agility. The fifth division taichou was likely to feel some sort of heated resentment against her backside, while a cold front washed upon her anterior side in displeased glances.

If the odds be ever in her favor, the congregation would be so mindlessly transfixed by their Notched Axe Hero.

Movement. The crowd parted to let a small being past. A being too small and too young to be with the adults and the alcohol. Yet, she seemed to be fair with the environment, and initial impressions did seem to show her well mannered. She was followed by an even smaller being, then one much larger, but still comparatively short.

The average height of the participants in this meeting had dwindled considerably.

It did amuse Yoshiya to see how utterly enthralled their Shinigami guest was though. He did have to admit, Sengoku was a fine speaker, unlike blowhard. That being said, if he had scouted their quarry, then that map could be invaluable.

He was digressing, even mentally. With Shinigami support, their chances of success were increased. If they didn't fall out, that is. He would be glad, but he'd have to be careful. Although, he doubted he was wanted. He was being silly, as always.

The man sighed at himself and leant on his staff, shutting his eyes, leaving him in darkness.

"No man! Stay focused!"

Yes. This was no time to have a breakdown. Plot man, think. He had to take his mind off his own despair. He re-evaluated the room, the geography of its population, planning his route should he have to make a hasty escape, ensuring he was out of the way if Sengoku forcibly removed blowhard.

Yes, that was fine. All was fine. He was fine. For now.

[bgcolor=250517]

Forgiven.

_{That woman, she said it was okay. Phew. That was good; Fuji would never have forgiven herself if she was somehow a burden to anyone. It's why a lot of the time she fed from trash bins or leftover food that people spared for her--to avoid being a burden as much as she could. Nodding her head to Ume, she continued onward, to see what was going on with all the grown-ups.}[/color]

Sounds.

_{A conversation. Were the adults discussing something important? The lavender-haired girl hardly paid any attention to it. After all, what did a war with the hollows matter to a girl who struggled to survive day by day in her chosen residence, the orphanage? Hugging her raggedy little teddy bear close, she tried to make her way through the crowds and to a place she knew that she might be able to get her hands on some milk.}[/color]

Fluffy.

_{It took only a moment for the child to realize, however, that something was following her--or at least heading her way. She pauses, then, peering about for who, or what, is coming at her, but at spying the puppy at her feet she frowns. What was a dog doing inside here?}

[/color]

Cute.

_{It took only a moment or two before the small, purple haired girl crouched down and sat the remains of her teddy on the floor. Head tilting to the side, she watched the small creature a moment more before she reached to pet it, giggling. "Cute puppy..." She said as she pet the thing, smile bright--as always. "What are you doing here?" She asks quietly, then, peering around before she focuses her attention back on the puppy... Smiling, still.}

A well trained army of archers? Was that the plan? Rip had to admit, that could do the trick. Precise, quick strikes. Fill the air with arrows, pepper the beasts, before they even realised what was happening. That could definitely turn the tide in their favour. At first. The hollow may not be unified but they weren't dumb. They'd figure it out; find ways around it. But by then it might not matter. The bows would give the Rukon the starting ground they needed.

This could work. But as Sengoku said, and repeated, it would take training. He was talking about war. They needed soldiers. And for that they would need the Shinigami. It was obvious Sengoku, and many others in the tavern this night, would prefer to have the Rukon do this alone. Show the Swords they didn't need them. Show the rest of the Rukongai that Rukon Citizens could take care of themselves. Realistically, though, they needed the Shinigami. They were soldiers. They had the training, the equipment, the know-how, the skills to teach others. The Rukon did not. They had the spirit and the drive, but they needed the training. And the equipment.

Rip's gaze fell upon the short Captain. Perhaps it was a stroke of good luck that she decided to enter the Notched Axe tonight. Play his cards right, and Sengoku might be able to recruit a powerful ally to his cause. Time would tell. And Rip would wait.

And observe.

Ubaga grows bored of doodling notes down, and it didn't look like the tavern was in service right now since nobody was serving anyone, so he stands and attempts to make a swift, unnoticable exit when nobody is looking. Leaving behind the copy of the map for Sengoku's use. Though it would probably be outdated within the week and the odds of prepping for an assault in that window of time were slim, all in all, it was probably a useless asset in his hands.

[exit]

SPOILER: Click to show

Since this is a rather large thread which Katsu's character is directing, he has until 6pm tonight box time to post before I exit him as per the activity rules.

As Ubaga beat a retreat, Sengoku glanced at the parchment paper on the table once more. He reassured himself that this could all work out. Haiiro had disappeared, and Sengoku wasn't sure where until he heard the giggling of a small girl. A very slight smile briefly graced his visage. Fuji was back. The girl was a recent, somewhat frequent patron of the bar. Quiet, small, and apparently an orphan of some sort, Sengoku had managed to work a name out of her, and she'd been welcome in the tavern ever since. "Fuji!" He called out, sounding a bit pleased. When he was certain he had her attention, he pointed at a stool in front of the bar, one she could easily clamber on to, and then started for the kitchen. He turned back and looked at the crowd. "Excuse me, I have something I need to do very quickly. Take some time and discuss it among yourselves." He disappeared into his kitchen, and retrieved a cup. Taking it out the back door, he filled the tall clay vessel with cold milk from a crock outside, and then brought it back in, setting it at the bar for Fuji. Then he went back into the kitchen and set to work.

Compassion and Kindness were things that had been taught to Sengoku at his mother's knee. Though the years had worn him down, and time had turned him into a harder, gruffer, more cynical man, he had never forgotten how to be kind. It was common knowledge that anyone seeking a hot meal could come to the tavern and get something. Payment meant little to Sengoku. It wasn't about profit, or gain, it was about feeding people, and serving the Rukongai as a whole. Whether they paid with money, service, or raw materials didn't matter. Sengoku had once given food to a man who had literally sang for his supper. Fuji had nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, and her bear, and Sengoku wasn't the sort to make a child pay for their meals.

He set a pot of water boiling, and chopped up a head of broccoli before setting it in a wire basket over the bubbling water, then put a lid over it. The steam would cook the broccoli while Sengoku prepared everything else. There was a bowl of fluffy mashed potatoes sitting on the counter, near the fireplace to keep them warm. He dolloped some out onto a pan and added a little water, then began heating them up too. As the potatoes and the broccoli cooked, he drew a knife out of a carving block, and sliced a few small chunks of roast beef off the spit over the kitchen's oven. He set them on a small wooden plate, scooped on the mashed potatoes, and then added the broccoli. A pat of butter went on the potatoes and the broccoli, and he sprinkled a little salt and pepper over everything. Cutting the roast beef into smaller pieces, he ladled a bit of gravy over the meat, and brought the plat out to Fuji, along with a fork.

All in all, he had been gone for maybe only ten minutes, plenty of time for everyone to get some discussions in. He pulled up a chair, filled his mug with ale, and cast a look around the room. "So...where do we stand, people?"

Brain enters through the tavern door with his gaze immediately surveying the room. Normally this tavern was well-populated and because of that, it was one Brain usually avoided. However, because of the many positive reviews this place has, he just had to stop by. That and he happened to be on the way home, walking down this particular street. His survey is brief and his judgement is loosely on target. Upon noticing the crowd huddled around the presumed bar owner, he comes to with assumption that this was some sort of rally. He had before read a book on Rukon Defenders that said something about them having a preference of meeting, or loitering in taverns. Though it wasn't until today that he's ever seen such a bunch, if they were that. Brain sticks with his conclusion for now and decides to choose where to sit. He picks this table that was separated fairly from the crowd but was still within earshot. As Brain moseys over toward the closest available chair of that table, his eyes catch onto Ume from the very corners. His head shoots so fast, it's a miracle he didn't get whiplash. "A Taichou?

[/u][/i]" the man mumbles under his breath to himself. This rally just became that much more interesting and so instead of sitting with his back to the crowd, he picks a seat facing it directly, plopping into it's rough exterior and getting cozy before he tunes in.

From the satchel still hanging at his side, he withdraws a paper and pencil along with some sort of makeshift writing surface, a hardback book. He begins taking notes on the event before his eyes, jotting down actions, speech and even small bits of his take.[/blockquote]

SPOILER: Click to show

*ground = crowd, *Taciho = Taichou

Five minutes had passed since Sengoku had disappeared and Ume was already tapping her foot. It was true she was interested in what the plan was, but as a captain there were places she could better spend her time than waiting around. The thought was supported by the fact that a second Shinigami entered. Ume took note of his appearance before she strode out of the tavern. She could always try to find him later as the insignia of the third division was on his chest as all uniforms of the Gotei bore their respective division's number.

[Ume Exited]

SPOILER: Click to show

Ume exited as per the activity rules as her 'absence' post only covered yesterday. Points will be halved upon thread completion in accordance with the rules. [link]

"Right, feedback. Uhh... What should I say?"

The old man pondered for a moment.

"Even I am not sure on the triangle issue. Is it better or worse? Does the increased complexity outdo the the better defence the shape would grant us? So, what can I say? Yet what happened with the Shinigami? Why is the fifth replaced by a third? What is he writing? Are they spying on us, trying to keep us weak? Am I being investigated? If I speak wrong, could I be responsible for their deaths?"

Yoshiya's Reiatsu flared, more than he could control. It began to control him, as it had done a millenium and a half ago. Weakness started to consume him.

"I must say something"

"Sengoku. You speak well, and I must say, it is apparent you have thought this through, and are being realistic. However I have a few concerns."

Yoshiya felt his head feel foggy, the room blurred slightly.

"First of all, I fear you are placing too much hope in the bow." He screwed up his eyes, a buzzing occurring in his skull.

"Whilst range is an advantage, the fact..." He paused, he was heating up, his head was becoming faint.

"Focus man! You managed to get through this before. Just push and then we can rest."

He gulped, then spoke quickly, blurting out his words before he was hit by another wave of his illness.

"The fact remains that many Hollows will still be more proficient at ranged combat than us. They'll only be effective if we have some other advantage, either surprise or numbers. One on one, with a Hollow who knows we are there, we'll probably loose."

Yoshiya's legs betrayed him and gave way. He caught himself on his staff, leaning heavily on it. His stomach ached. He panted, gasping for breath.

"Further...more.......How....doooo.....y-y-you int-t-t-tend tooo...k-k-keep usss." He panted and wheezed for a moment. The knot in his stomach tightened further. He screwed up his eyes and clutched his chest. Just one more push."sup-p-lied. The same for those....of....us that have...families......."

He had done it. Just about.

"Ap-p-pologies."

Yoshiya slipped his hand into his cloak and drew out a few coins, tossing them towards Sengoku as he ran out of the bar, his feet working on a surge of strength.

Out of the crowd, the heat, the noise, the bustle, he sat down on the ground, leaning against the wall. His body slumped as he finally let himself slip out of consciousness yet not before throwing up, a mixture of visible vomit and invisible Reiatsu.

He had over-exerted his spirit again. This is why he avoided such things.

[bgcolor=250517]

Name!

_{She looked up from the puppy, paling slightly as she hears her name. Uh-oh. Was someone mad at her, again? But when she sees the tall form of Sengoku heading for her, she relaxes and smiles, lifting a hand to wave at him a little--normally, she would have been eager to see him, to go over and say hullo, but there were so many adults around...}

Scared...

_{She saw where he pointed and made as if to go to that spot, but... There were so many adults in the way, and adults scared her. Well... most adults did. If she was relaxed enough around one to give her name, she liked them. Like with Sengoku, mister Sen-ku. She knew how to say his name right, now, but the first time she'd met him it had been rather hard for her, and the nickname Sen-ku just kinda stuck with her.}[/color]

Food.

_{She just sits there, scaredly staring at the crowd of people between herself and the puppy, and the seat Sen-ku told her to sit at... But the instant she saw him disappear into the back she knew that food was coming, and her stomach rumbles slightly in response to the thought. She hadn't had a decent meal in days... And Sen-ku never slacked on her meals when he gave them. Her assumption is further backed when she sees him set a glass of milk out for her, and she giggles, patting the puppy's head lightly a couple of times before she gets to her feet, scoops up what's left of her bear, and heads over to clamber up into her seat, struggling to push through the crowd. Once settled in her seat, she hms, setting her bear on the countertop next to her milk before she grabs the cup and starts to sip at it, wiggling her feet happily at the taste. So nice!}

Yummy!

_{When he sat the plate of food before her with the fork, she blinked before grinning in delight. So much food! And it looked amazing to the nearly starved little girl. She giggles, glancing towards Sen-ku as if to thank him, but at seeing he is already busy talking to the adults again she frowns some and decides to wait to eat. She needed to thank him! Saying thank-you was always a higher priority to her than almost everything else, even though a good many people who found out said she was crazy for it.}

Words.

_{Lots and lots of words. Though she was curious and tried, really tried, to keep up with the adults' conversation, she struggled with a good many of the words that they used and eventually gave up, starting to hum quietly. But then she heard a strange set of words--staggered, as if the speaker was struggling to breath--and frowned as her gaze found Yoshiya--just in time to see him flee the bar. Was he ill?}

SPOILER: Click to show

Sorry if there are any problems with this post, am quite sick at the moment so am also not quite thinking correctly. :c

Thoughts? Opinions? Rip had a few. Up to this point he had been content to let the meeting play out without his involvement. But then the Captain left, before speaking with Sengoku. He frowned at this. He knew the barkeep would not take the initiative to involve the Shinigami. He'd need a push in the right direction.

Rip moved from his position along the back wall. He gently pushed through the crowd, making his way toward the table and the map. He arrived as Yoshiya left, and began speaking almost immediately.

"The man makes a good point. If you have the training, the supplies, and the numbers... the bow might give you an advantage. At the start. The hollow in the Fourth aren't what I'd call organized, but they'd figure it out. And the district isn't what I would call a prime archery range. You need something more." He paused, moving in to get a better look at the map. "On that note, you're going to want scouts. Spotters. The Fourth is static. If this map was accurate at one point, it's probably accurate now. But that doesn't take into account the transient nature of its residents. To stay still is to die."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. This wasn't very objective observer-ish of him. He was crossing his own line. Getting involved. But it was too late. A few people were looking at him. To Rip's eyes they seemed to be expecting something from him. Expecting him to continue. They probably weren't, but the mind can play tricks on you. He drew his gaze to Sengoku. Looked hard at him, "What you're proposing we do," he used 'we' this time. He was committed, whether he knew it or not, "goes against everything that I know to survive out there. This foothold is going to be a beacon - a bright, screaming beacon - to any and every hollow in the district. Not to mention the bandit gangs. We are not prepared for this."

Sengoku wasn't going to like what he was going to say next. But it needed to be said. No one else here was going to do it. Of that, he had no doubt.

"We need the Shinigami."

Finally, someone said something. Even though that someone rushed out like a loon into the night. He sipped his ale and processed Yoshiya's questions as Rip took the chance to speak up. They were valid concerns, Sengoku couldn't deny that. When Rip was done, Sengoku paused long enough to let others voice their concerns. These two, however, seemed to have covered the worst of everyone's fears. He drank more of his ale. Haiiro had managed to scramble up onto the counter again, and was pawing a piece of meat off of Fuji's plate. Clearly, she hadn't paid the appropriate tribute.

Rip mentioned the Shinigami, and the tension in Sengoku increased by a fraction of an inch.

"Good points, all around. Yoshiya was right, they are better at range. That said, I never claimed the bow was going to solve all our problems. The bow allows us to attack from a range outside what the hollows are used to. Their most devastating abilities require them to charge and build reiatsu. We could easily put three or four arrows into them before they could fire off one of their glowy red Doom Blasts. Furthermore, hollows are large, easy targets. even in the forests of the Fourth District, you'll have a hard time missing them, especially since the narrow press of trees in some places makes it difficult for the larger hollows to pass."

He drank again, set the mug aside, and removed a short pipe carved from hard, dark wood, and began packing a little brownleaf into it. "We aren't ready for this, not yet. We're in the planning stages. The training, the preparation. Yes, I intend to enlist scouts, folks who know their way around the Fourth District, who can get in and out of places others can't. And you're right, a fortress will be a beacon to every nasty, creepy, crawly thing out there. That's why, when we're finally ready to do this, we won't be building the outpost straight off. We're going to move in, and remove immediate threats. Soften them up. We start with raids against anyone and anything that would get in our way. We're not going out there to make a home straight away. The outpost won't happen until we can carve out a safe haven for it, and make it the scariest gods damned place any of these bastards have ever heard of. They will NOT overrun that outpost, because they'll drown in a river of their own blood first."

He lit a taper from a nearby candle, and used that to light his pipe. He blew out a stream of gray smoke from each nostril, and frowned. "As to the Shinigami...they've had centuries to retake the Fourth District. They've never stepped up to the occasion beforehand, why would they now? No, this is something the Rukon will have to do for themselves." He inhaled from the pipe again. Supplies still needed to be addressed. It had always been the hardest part in this plan. "As to supplies...I honestly don't know. We could hunt enough meat in the forests to survive, but an army doesn't march on meat alone. We need vegetables, fruit, bread, ale, and medicine. We need coin. This is exactly why we're having this meating: To plan this course of action, to make this happen."

Two men stand forward with their opinions and say on the matter, there was a few key words that stuck out, some shared and some not between the two voices. Brain underlines keywords that Yoshiya said, like range and bow then he circles the name inside Yoshiya's speech bubble and draws an arrow protruding off this circle and pointing out to the word, "bar owner?" After he marks those few words, he overhears a bit of stammering from Yoshiya that builds up into an embarrassing exit. When the other man, Rip, comes fourth, Brain would turn the single piece of paper around and start fresh on the back. This man said "the 4th" twice, and because of what context it was used in, he assumes they were talking about the 4th District, and some sort of effort to reclaim it. Like the previous man, this one too says a second key thing, not a word, but a small sentence:

"We need the Shinigami." - Rip

It was within the second highlighted part of Rip's speech that causes Brain to become highly uncomfortable. He shifts slightly in his seat while paying close attention to the crowd, keeping his attention sharp so that he knew when he was spotted. The last thing he wants to do was give suggestions, or make promises. He is not in position to make such promises and did not want to be. At this point, he was just hoping Ume would pop her head back in so that this one-sided tension he was feeling could wash away. Nervously he fiddles with his pencil, trying to contain a ball of sweat from forming and rolling down the side of his head.

As he dwells in anxiety, the barkeeps would come to in response to the two men's opinions as well as follow up with a bit more detailing on what this here meeting was about. Apparently it is some sort of rally. Brain jots down the next few key details whilst trying to maintain an watchful eye. The Rukon Citizens were making a coordinating effort to reclaim the 4th District, coming together in discussion to hammer out a plan and Brain was going to be the first with documentation of this historical event, whether it be a tremendous failure -- or success..

"Break through this barrier and take hold of your destiny."

The man rebooted his mind, searching for a segment, a refuge from his illness, some last reserve of strength, a power to get him back home. He found it. Right where it was supposed to be.

And he tapped into it.

The insanity engulfed him fully, leaving him full of hate for all things. From his point outside the tavern he could still hear discussion.

"Pathetic beings, they shall be like lambs to the slaughter."

Yoshiya rose to his feet and marched home, the mind laughing.

"Death will come to Rukons, one by one. Their limbs will break. Pop. Pop. Pop. Hollows shall swarm them; spoil their day. Down they will fall. Spat. Crunch. Die."

And he laughed, his face taut, as he marched home, his head held high, embracing the surrounding darkness.

[EXIT]

[bgcolor=250517]

Chatter.

_{The adults were talking again, huff. She didn't understand a lot of what they were saying, or had said prior, so she tuned it out mostly. Especially after hearing a little thief of a puppy sneaking bits of meat off her plate.}

Mine!

_{Turning her gaze to the creature, she lets out a gasp of shock and waves her hand at him, frowning. This was her food--did he not have his own? But she wouldn't make him stop if he was hungry, which he must be if he decides to devour her food instead of his own, and so she claps her hands together, gives a quick 'itadakimasu!' and starts in on the mashed potatoes... Even though she doesn't like them much. As much as she wanted to ignore them, save them for last or not eat them at all, it would be rude for her to not eat all of the food placed before her and the puppy seems content to nom her meat right now anyways. No need for two to be working in on it--she'll eat what's left, if any, when the puppy's done.}

He wasn't entirely satisfied, but the man allayed many of his concerns. It would have to be enough for now. He still believed they needed the Shinigami. There was no one here who could teach them proper battle tactics. As defenders of the Rukongai they operated alone or in small groups of two or three. There was no coordination or communication between units. They just went out and did their thing. A proper, effective army functioned much differently. And they needed an army.

But that would have to wait. Sengoku was right; if they didn't have the proper supplies this venture wasn't going to go anywhere. They'd need the cooperation of the farmers in the First, the workers in the Second, and the Merchants in the Third. Basically, the whole of the Rukongai would need to back this. At least to some extent. And the agreement between Soul Society and the Rukon would suffer; Supplies meant for the Shinigami would need to be used for the war effort. They aren't going to like that.

First things first, though; coin. "We need some patrons, then. Businesses willing to throw their coin behind our cause. Because no matter how sweet your words are, coin goes a lot farther. The farmers in the First will want compensation for what we'll be needing." Rip looked around the bar. There weren't many wealthy businessmen in there. They were going to need quite the incentive to back such a foolhardy cause. Especially one with no guarantee they could pull it off.

"We're going to need something to offer the potential patrons, too. First choice of land in any territory we take. Or something. I don't know. What appeals to a wealthy businessman?"

Finally, a decent idea! Rip was at least being useful. "You're absolutely right. We need sponsors. I can only provide so much from my own coffers, and that land out in the fourth district is open territory." He drew off his pipe again and smiled a bit. Haiiro had had his fill, barely taking any meat at all. He flopped on the counter next to Fuji's plate, wagging his tail and trying his best to be quiet and unobtrusive. "Rubble can be cleared, ruins rebuilt. All we have to do is take it back. The men and women that fund this would find their investments returned tenfold. An untapped wilderness, ripe for the taking. We can make the Rukongai whole again. The Fourth District may never be as it was, but we can make it something new!"

He rose from his stool and pointed to the map. "I'm not forgetting you guys in this. You're doing all the fighting, sacrificing everything. You'd be getting first pick, anywhere you want in the lands we take back. It's the only concession we'd have to make. I know there are plenty of business owners and farmers in the first and second districts that would leap at a chance to expand their profits. Besides, the farmlands in the First District won't be enough forever. More people are born every day, and the First District won't be enough to provide for all of them. We just need to settle on an appropriate price for the territories. Any suggestions?"

SPOILER: Click to show

Edited content with Ki's permission, due to errors made by moi