Despite his distance from the man, the white surface of Victor's mask was spattered with a few drops of blood. Everything around him seemed to become more fragrant as if the man's death had opened his nose more. He noticed the woman wave her hand through the darkness, and padded over to her and the man on the ground. Looking at the white jacket, Victor let out a half snicker, mocking the man even though he was dead. "How do you expect to get away from anyone looking that guilty?" He wondered, feeling a bit less guilty of his words since the man had been a criminal. He crouched down and looked up at Mistu, "Which parts are you taking?" Victor asked, putting a hand on the ground in front of him to keep his balance as a gust of wind pushed its way in between the walls of the alleyway. A feeling of relief washed over Victor as he looked at the man, knowing that at least he wouldn't starve to death.
Tokyo Ghoul; The After Math INACTIVE
Taking the time to look down at her most recent kill, a subtle wave of pride coursed through her. She didn't fashion herself as some sort of masked vigilante bringing justice to an unfair world, as much as she would have humored such an idea in the innocence of her youth, but when all was said and done, she was still committing atrocities at the end of the day, in a fashion no different than the criminals she'd slain. But if it meant killing two birds with one stone, effectively staving off her hunger while indirectly cleaning the streets as a result, then even she could find enjoyment in her work. Taking a deep inhale through her nostrils, she let the smell lingering in the air fill her senses, then exhaled from her mouth, quietly. "You get his left half, I get his right?" She offered, a casual proposition regarding their portions.
Victor gave a nod and dragged the man's upper half over to his feet. Releasing his kagune, Victor worked the sharp ends through the middle of the long-haired man's torso. Clearing his throat, and looking up at the multiple eyed mask, Victor spoke again. "What's your name?" He asked, returning to dividing the torso, "it doesn't have to be your real one, it's just weird not knowing anything. Especially since you lead me over here." He finished, staying crouched. The pavement in this area seemed wetter, somehow, and Victor tried not to sit down; switching the foot he put weight on every couple of minutes.
Watching him split the deceased criminal down the middle of his torso, she cast a brief glance to their blind side, staring down at the other end of the alley way opposite of them, in case there was anyone else aside from them. "Is that weird?" She inquired as she looked back towards him, answering his question with another question as she didn't fully understand how it could be considered weird. "Well, it's Iris." She quickly settled, using her given alias as opposed to her real name, since it had already been established that it wasn't expected of her. "Or, at least that's what the doves call me." She tacked on in addition, referring to their residential boogeymen by their own nickname in a vice versa. "What about you?"
(Also, I may add a dove/investigator character of mine, I haven't decided yet. If I do add her, she'll be there to cause problems for the ghoul characters in the RP)
Victor's hands reached inside of his hoodie, and off to the side where he kept a folded messenger bag, which was larger than average since he had made it so. He unfolded it, and took out some plastic wrap, "Oh, what the doves call me is a bit odd. They call me the Petal Ghoul in the reports they have of me, as far as I know." He paused in speaking but continued working with his hands. Slicing off the man's left arm, Victor wrapped it up in plastic before sliding it into the grey bag. "I guess it's because of the shape my mask is in, they're supposed to be moth wings though." The last of what he said was barely audible. By the time he had finished speaking, Victor had the man's left half packed, and struggled briefly in zipping it up.
(ooh, sweet! that'd be cool, if you decide to add 'em)
"Huh. So that's what that is." She mumbled to herself as the realization washed over her. "I'll probably just call you Petai, then. You know, like the bean? Assuming we ever meet again, that is." As the other allotted the appropriate portions, Mitsu approached what still remained of the corpse, kneeling down in front of it with both knees planted, regardless of whatever muck and grime layered the ground. She hadn't thought ahead of how she would safely store the remainders, as she most often helped herself to whatever her stomach allowed of her and abandoned the leftovers for any other Ghoul sharing a similar struggle as she. "I got mine for obvious reasons." Gesturing for the blatant eye pattern painted across her mask briefly before she turned her back to the other, she lifted the ridge of her mask the slightest bit, just barely revealing what lay underneath as she forced the chunk of flesh through the small gap and took a hearty bite from it, careful not to spill it over her clothing. Both the texture and taste seemed enhanced somehow, which she wagered had to do with her recent starvation.
Staring at the bag for a moment, Victor imagined unpacking everything once he was home and finally eating. This had been the first time he had ever experienced truly starving, and it was definitely something to steer clear of. Victor stood up the rest of the way and leaned back, what he felt now after using his Kagune was similar to what he felt the first time he had ever used it. Soreness. Dusting off his hands and arms, the blonde adjusted the straps of the bag on his shoulders. "Well, thanks for this. I'm sure that man would be thrilled if he understood…" Victor took his phone from a side pocket in the bag and checked the time. "Well, I've got to go," he said, stretching his arms before starting to walk off.
Walking still, he held a hand up and gave a single wave, "If we end up meeting again, hopefully, it isn't under such negative circumstances." Victor pulled his hands out of his pockets and removed his mask, glad that he was finally breathing in cool air; rather than air that had heated up under the leather and metal. The bag was heavy on his shoulder as headed towards the end of the alleyway. Something was always happening if you just so happened to be born a ghoul, whether it had to do with losing those around you, or being in trouble yourself.
Name: Hiyori Takada
Age: 29
Gender/Sex: Female
Race (human or ghoul): Human
General Appearance: Hiyori is a lightly built black-haired woman, who weighs around 120 Lbs and stands at 5'4. Her eyes are a very dark hazel and like most of her family, she has very light skin. However, one blemish on her skin is a scar that rounds her left ankle from a Ghoul attack.
Attitude Towards Strangers: Hiyori is very trusting of strangers in general, but is of course always looking out for Ghouls. On many occasions, this has ruined friendships because they felt she was too suspicious.
Attitude Towards Friend and Family: Unlike with strangers, when it comes to friends and family that Hiyori has known for a while, she is completely trusting. She constantly keeps her friends and family updated on Ghoul attacks, (as much as her job permits) because she wishes to keep them safe.
Kagune info: Not Applicable
Mask info: Not Applicable
Investigator Status: Rookie
Nicknames: Clover, because of her small stature in comparison to the other investigators
(There she is! There isn't much to her yet, since she is quite new to me as a character.)
Although the plan normally was to leave behind a generous portion of her remainders, she couldn't recall a time where she had felt this utterly famished when it wasn't during her earliest adolescence. Little by little, few bits remained of the criminal that once was, though the identity of whom they belonged to would hardly be discernible, if she hadn't left the head and face in-tact. True, it might have been morbid to leave him as he was, but it's not like it was any different from how he treated his own victims. In a way, this was karma at its finest. "Try not to die!" She warned as way of goodbye to her company through a mouthful of human flesh. If the time ever did come for the two to meet again, hopefully, it also wouldn't be boring.
(ooh, i like the sound of her!)
Looking down, Victor noticed with a sinking feeling that blood was leaking through the grey bag. Everything had gone so well in the end, and yet there was this one thing that made it seem as if all of the air had been sucked out of the city. Victor looked up, and kept walking, 'Maybe if I act like I don't see it, other people won't pay it any attention either.' Every time since he had been on his own, taking meat back to his apartment had been an anxiety-inducing process for Victor. Sometimes the bag would leak, and other times he had to work with what he had on hand, hoping nothing would fall out onto the street. Taking in a deep breath, Victor walked a little faster; after all, his apartment was only one street away.
When it came down to it, though, the thought of the distance between him and his apartment was becoming suffocating as blood began to fall to the ground, splattering when it hit and making sticky red polka dots.
Licking the blood from her lips, traces of which lingered to resemble cherry-colored lipstick, the flavor was lasting enough to sate her taste buds alongside the emptiness in her stomach prior to her feeding. The only remaining evidence of the crime was the disembodied head of the culprit, followed by the nearby blood splatters. At least now he was actually helping someone in a way, not hurting them, if only in death. She brought her fingers underneath her mask to clean them off, before unfastening the object from her visage, embracing the fresh air brought about with a deep sigh. Eventually, she'd have to make like a tree and split as her company did, especially now that she was loitering at the scene of a crime. For the time being, however, she allowed her body the needed rest it desired after feeding, the hunger being replaced by her strength slowly but surely coming back to her.
Finally walking down the street on which his apartment complex was on, Victor jogged up the stairs and unlocked his door. He threw the bag onto the light blue couch that rested in the middle of his living room, 'I don't care if it stains…I'm too tired to care.' Flipping on the lights, Victor plopped down on his couch beside the bag and unzipped it. Instantly the smell wafted around the apartment, hanging in the air as if it had been the smoke from a candle. Briefly, the thought of coffee crossed his mind but was quickly pushed away as he took out the left arm of the man and turned on his TV. Unwrapping the heavy limb, Victor began biting pieces off of it, happy to have food for the first time in close to two months. Plastered at the corners of the news were kanji headings promising "Justice Served To Ghouls in the 17th Ward!" and things of the like. Drops of blood fell to the hardwood floors of his living room, and yet he paid no attention to them; this too was something that could wait.
When the time came where her strength had all but returned to her, it was at the same moment as the distant blare of police sirens rung through her ears, life's way of reminding her that she couldn't afford to linger any longer. She had a feeling she'd be seeing his name and face on the news in a few hours from now, hopefully, not alongside her own mugshot, if they even granted her the mercy of imprisonment and didn't just shoot her down dead first sight. Taking a deep inhale of the crisp night air, she returned the mask to her face and stood upright once more, kneeling over to pat her knees free from any dirt stuck to her kneecaps. It was then she realized just how rejuvenated she felt, like a bear emerging from its lengthy hibernation just in time for spring. Giving her legs and arms a much needed stretch, Mitsu looked both ways, as though preparing to cross a busy street, before treading down the path left of her, opposite of where she had first entered from.
Victor caught a glimpse of himself in the blackness of his TV as the news flashed to a commercial, allowing him to see a ring of blood around his mouth. Quickly wiping the fast drying substance away, he stood up and padded into his kitchen.
~Hiyori~
Tightening her grip on the handle of her suitcase, Hiyori walked down the sidewalk in a cloud of people. Her eyes were wide open, and fatigue threatened to creep its way back into her limbs. For a few hours now, the black-haired woman had kept herself going on cheap vending machine coffee and the idea that maybe she would be able to stop a Ghoul from hurting someone before it was too late. As she walked, trapped in her own thoughts, Hiyori imagined the black and red eyes of the vile creatures as they devoured whatever poor person happened to be passing by. 'How can they bear to do such horrible things?' She wondered, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Suddenly, the tangy scent of iron floated over to her; her sense of smell had always been something her fellow investigators had been surprised by. However, to Hiyori it was normal, and she couldn't possibly imagine having something as important as smell buffeted. How did everyone else deal with it? Did they not feel suffocated?
Following the sharp smell, Hiyori found herself walking towards a dimly lit street that cut in between a set of buildings. "Great…" She muttered, stopping and gazing into the blackness.
(Bump)
(Bump)
Upon reaching the near end of the alley, she dared a peek over her shoulder, mainly out of fear of being followed. Paranoia was a state of mind frequented between Ghouls, and for good reason, given the circumstances. While her eyes had yet to make sense of anything through the darkness, she couldn't shake the heavy feeling that eyes were trained on her, waiting for the moment her back was turned, that brief second of vulnerability to sneak up from behind and.. - with a sudden sense of dread, she quickened her pace further down the alley, placing quiet footsteps.
(so sorry about the wait on that)
(No worries!)
Hiyori quietly padded along, her finger tensing on the release button of her Quinque case. Her heart rate picked up in pace, this was the second time in her career so far that she had encountered a Ghoul. But then again, this could just be someone in a hurry home. Hiyori's eyes became fixed on the woman's back as she neared her, suddenly, her foot became entangled in something. Looking down to examine whatever it was, Hiyori's breath caught in her throat. On the ground lay half of a head, hair matted with blood. A few feet away, in addition, were the person's clothes, namely a white jacket. Realization crept over her as she realized that this had been the man the police were searching for. If it hadn't been for his clothes, she wouldn't have known. Shaking the remains away, the woman forgot for a second the original reason she was there.
Mitsu could have heard a pin drop on the other side of the city in the silence that followed upon the realization of what stood behind her. Or rather, who. Her movements stilled, staring the other woman down with eyes widened in disbelief. She knew that the cops weren't too far from her current position, but the Doves? Her luck picked a fine time to run out on her. Knowing that her presence alone was incriminating by itself, she made no effort to hide herself - instead, she ran, as fast as her legs allowed it of her, looking back only once as she neared the edge of the alley and booked the corner left of her.
Pushing herself forward, Hiyori hit the release button on her suitcase. The moment she did, two Rinkaku tentacles sprouted from the handle of the Quinque. Hiyori took a deep breath in, and began sprinting in the direction in which she had seen the woman run; it was confirmed in her mind, the stranger was a Ghoul. Why else would she be wearing a mask, and at that, a mask that was registered to a Ghoul known in the area? Allowing the Quinque to stream out behind her as she ran, Hiyori pivoted on her heels at the corner, catching sight of the Ghoul once more. She knew she was at a disadvantage here, in the alleyways of the city; if the woman really wanted to, she could hop up a building. But in circumstances such as this, Hiyori was willing to go after the Iris even there; up buildings.
As the adrenaline left behind by her most recent kill had yet to settle, it only amplified with the chase, the thud of rugged footsteps sounding off from behind only encouraging her pace to quicken in both heart-rate and running speed. She had heard the horror stories of the CCG, their merciless brutality against Ghouls, but never did she once think she'd fall victim to them. Ducking behind an apartment building, Mitsu lowered herself into a kneeling position and frantically pushed up with her knees as hard as she could, effectively launching herself a few feet into the air to grab hold of the closest thing to purchase she could grasp; a thick crack lining the brick array, a structural fault in the building's design, to her avail. Now, if she could go about scaling it..
Hiyori managed to keep pace with the Ghoul for a few moments more before she flashed behind an apartment building. Pausing briefly, the investigator attempted to catch her breath but pushed herself forward once more. No matter how in shape she was, her stamina would never be as great as that of a Ghoul's. Inhaling deeply, Hiyori turned behind the building as the woman she was chasing had done, to her dismay the Ghoul had caught a handhold in a deep crack in the wall and was about to push herself farther up. Raising her head, Hiyori flicked her wrist forward, aiming a blow at the woman's back. She held her breath for a few moments, wondering if the Quinque she was using would even be long enough to effectively hit the woman.
(Bump)
(Seeing as you haven't replied in a few days, I was wondering if you wanted to continue the RP?)