#kureomxdo

[spikedwings-blog]

@kureomxdo Of every dove she could have run into on this small, minuscule operation, she had not expected it to be him. Not after all these years. It was an uncomfortable reunion, and she wondered, at this rate, if he would be able to tell it was her behind the mask. There was no denying her kagune was that of her father’s-- at least, the one she used in combat now, however defensively as it could be. Even out now, as spiked and terrifying much more than it’d been than when she had been a child, she had a feeling he’d only see it as ‘Fueguchi 3.’ 

She didn’t want to fight, honestly. She never did. It was a passing conviction with which she lived; she fought for necessity, to protect what she could now, but even as she took a deep breath, her senses focused on the quinque briefcase in his hand. She had a stomach-lurching feeling that it was her father’s... “I’m glad you’re able to move again.” Hinami wasn’t, for however it may have sounded, being sarcastic. Her mutilation of him had never been the highlight of her childhood. For all he’d done to her family, as terrifying as this man was... Hinami was not a violent person. She wondered if he despised her for what she’d done, even if it had been in self defense.

[aogirixcentipede-archive-blog]

✎

send me ✎ for a facebook post my muse made about yours   ||  accepting

[touko-harima-blog]

Practical lesson

New and inexperienced investigators were buzzing with anticipation and nervousness; there was a veteran investigator who will be coming to the 24th Ward as a guest to demonstrate the tactics in ghoul combat. The twenty four investigators were already chosen from the long list, and Harima was one of them. She wondered what kind of person the experienced investigator was, but...

Rumours has it that he is a quinque maniac and insane. Harima wasn’t the one to listen to rumours; she preferred to listen to anything else that does not involve gossip. The young woman did not always believe in rumours unless it was something important— such as information concerning ghouls.

Not having seen this guest somewhere, Harima went to search for the mystery person around the safe zone provided by the CCG. The dark haired woman had a general idea about who he was; as she recalled from the briefing— he was a First Class, and had worked in the organisation for many years. Because of the fact he is experienced, it would be a good opportunity to observe and learn. That would be enough to recognise the man apart from many new agents around the ward.

Her onyx eyes scanned through the small crowd; she was eventually able to spot white hair... No, not Arima— it was definitely someone else. Being determined to make a good first impression, Harima approached the agent with a friendly smile.

“Hello! You are Mado Kureo— the guest overseer, yes? I’m Harima Touko, one of the twenty-three people who were selected to be in the 24th Ward’s extermination team. Pleased to meet you, sir!”

[infcrmant-blog]

@kureomxdo liked for a starter!

                                                       ღ☠ღ

                 "However cruel the mirrors of sin...                                 remember, beauty is found within...” 

                            A haunting voice lulled from the woman as she quietly sang to herself. Cherry hues flickered to the man, grinning lips stifling her hum. “Welcome.”

[fearducts-blog]

Soulscape!

Soulscape!

Encased in granite walls. Your internal clocktells you it must be the break of dawn, but oh, it’s so hard to say for surewhen the only light which slips through steel grates reveals a world envelopedin thick, impenetrable mist…

Everything around you is cold. The floors arewooden, splintered, laden with dust, and they creek at the slightest offootsteps, protrude rusty nails, the presence of which only becomes noticeablewhen they pierce the soles of your feet. You walk upon teeth, upon bone andsomewhere along the way, the damp settles into your skin.                

He’s a place of death, an abattoir; and youare but a lamb to the slaughter, deluded into thinking yourself a bull; readyto drag your heels through dust, through congealed blood, because oh, how arrogant the butcher is to think himself above you, to think that standing atop a mountain of bones, he’s safe from the ire in your horns...