. to apologize for my absence on this blog, i’ll be doing a theme give-away for all my remaining followers. how does that sound? :> also i’ll be taking starters – so such like this for one as well. they will be short but they will also be done.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SWEETEST OF SWEETS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR CAKE!! THIS WAS ACTUALLY PRETTY DIFFERENT IN MY HEAD BUT MY FINGERS FOR THE LIFE OF ME CANNOT CLICK THAT MUCH TO GET A NICE PAINTED EFFECT SO I HOPE THIS WILL DO
/ C RIES ABOUT IT
YES THAT’S A HEAD AND NO I DON’T KNOW WHY IT ISN’T BLOODY. TOUKA IS A PRO WHEN IT COMES TO CHOPPING OFF HEADS.
Peril conceals itself before him like ‘hide-and-seek’, but when it does ultimately divulge it’s location then it’s already too late and he’s left to soak his anomaly of a husk in pond of his own maroon hue. He is unable to revel in the discovery of this strength, the ability to withstand severe physical injury and feel revitalized each time his tongue experiences the refined taste of human flesh. To receive the internal organ of a ghoul — what kind of world does he exactly live in? He knows not if this information prior to the surgery would be critical enough to save his humanity ; would he have retained enough energy to express his dissatisfaction? In the end, it’s futile to even ponder the ideal as he is what he is now and will remain.
HE IS A GHOUL.
Anxiously does he scrutinize her movement and thin brows ascend to articulate bewilderment. Anticipating toxicity to emit from between thin tiers and instead being acknowledged with silence. It’s enough for him to show concern. If only consumption didn’t require the defilement of human flesh, then perhaps he wouldn’t be so tentative to say yes.
‘I had a cube — so yeah .. ‘
Torrid beneath sulking sinew runs the blood of a monstrosity made in hollow mourning, yet how glacial it must appear on the surface bestowed by pallid expression. It warrants not the faith of others nor the installment of courage – there are no words, no boasting to provide him in a moment of identity rendered asunder. She can give him anything but comfort. The way he had been created, thrusted into this life without a moment’s pause, ripped from the bosom of humanity, had been too much to conceive of. And now the desire to survive thrives stronger than ever and by whatever means deign to fit his purpose. The least she can do is offer some inkling of control between the lengthy pauses and awkward silences yet to come.
He is neither human nor ghoul to her. He is an absolute. An aspect of nothingness that became something. A living, breathing, paradox of life itself and she finds poetry in the insult he bares by holding a heartbeat.
Fingers move to grip at the rounds of wide hips, fumbling along the berth of them for the sake of posture. A full meal would have been better but she supposes that’ll come in full time – for now, the girl will keep to the basis. Stamina being of the utmost importance, though she lacks the natural preparation via her kagune for it.
❝ Fine. At least you’re handling your hunger. The last thing I want to do is force - feed you another goddamn time. How’s your handle on your kagune? Can you will it yet? ❞
For once, his reasons for skulking around aren’t what they usually are.
He recalls it vividly; the driving force behind his decision to wander here. The sounds of pained cries, anguished moans, desperate wails being ultimately silenced by the mutilation of the body… It’s one thing to see hell on earth. It’s another to hear someone going through it. Neither are pleasant, but that fact holds true.
And even now, he regrets not arriving earlier. Perhaps he could have helped in a way. Of course, he doesnt know the situation that ultimately led to what his eyes befall now. The instant he witnesses it, his body goes tense. Tense… yet numb. Slender frame usually active even in an idle position is perfectly still. Frozen.
A chill flows through his spine. Biting cold sweat lingers at the back of his neck. Eyes can only look forward and glare to mask their fear. Yes, fear. He isn’t so prideful that he’ll refuse to admit that to himself. The sight of her… transformation is frightening him. It’s only when her voice reaches his ears that Zidane finds himself able to move again.
— …You don’t have to tell me twice.
He doesn’t bother to respond with idle banter or cheesy lines. He doesn’t make any gestures or unorthodox in jest. He simply turns on his heel and swiftly makes a break for it. The likelihood that she’ll follow is high.
He knows he can’t run forever.
Garish blood-thirst wrought ‘pon logic forgone in favor of a beast. Starved she is not though low is the desire to keep quiet that which would whisper a viler nature. There is no mask to cover, to hide a gnarled visage. Ebony strains beneath heavy eyelids, darting vermillion threading in lieu of veins and pupil. And he’s seen her, emblazed upon a memory so sheer that one might not forget the horror stricken. For the sake of herself, her ilk, and most important those of an identical nature, the desire to quash the threat rises.
What a pity.
Nails cut along raw cuticles, dragging languidly against stone in which she finds purchase to balance a teetering form. Smears of waste from physical vestige stain against cobble and the meat of a pale shoulder throbs in sickly twitch at the propulsion of a fluttering kagune. The tread of school trainers is worn, slipping along pavement whilst legs garner a footing – turning slowly to gaze upon the retreating figure bathed in cerulean and gilded flash. She’ll have to take him in an alley way, rounded corner away from public eye – of all the nights not to wear her mask and she choses this one.
Fight or flight. She chose the former and what a luck did it bring.
Lanky muscles seize in wondrous motion, kicking off the ground at near full sprint to race after the boy dampened with misfortune. If he’s blessed with a boon unknown to most men who spy a ghoul, she’ll lose sight of him shortly. Though no one is that lucky – ever.
She careens around a corner quickly enough, keeping low and high in different motions to avoid detection. Getting the CCG on her tail is the last thing she wants to fill out the night with disaster. One sighting is enough. The narrow hovel leading between back alleyways and corners is dank, musty, and filled with hundreds of scents all human and ghoul muddled together. How it messes with her senses, the humidity suffocating in a cloying grip.
Gone. For now. Nasal passages inhale, oculi narrowing for better perception.
✞ : Is your muse religious? Which religion do they follow, if any?
Religion and Touka is not something that seems to mesh rather well. She seems rather staunch in the idea of the grand design – predator eats prey, the strong survive, eat the weak. For her to have faith is something she has not explored nor seems to have any interest in exploring. Especially not at her current age nor mental state. Most religions, by the by, exclude her species from being saved or considered one of the traditional “god’s” creatures. Thus, alienating her in a manner of secure faith-hood.
☞ : Would your muse call out someone who does something bad on a busy street?
The first instinct is no. It all depends on the action or what is occurring – if it’s just a commonplace purse snatching or the like, she may try to remedy the situation by helping but she’s not going to call someone out for it. Touka is far more expressive with actions rather than words. For a muse, she’s very internal. Yet if it were another ghoul or a CCG member? Touka would probably act if the odds were in her favor – especially with the starting scene between Nishiki and Kaneki – she basically comes to Kaneki’s aid because Nishiki has no right hunting in territory that isn’t his nor harassing those that would wander around it, etc. Then again, most ghouls would not bother to heckle or hunt on a busy road nor would they out themselves in favor of their hunger unless they were starving. CCG members on the other hand? She would have no issue laying them out… but not in public, too much risk, too much exposure. So, no, probably not and if only to save face and fight another day.
