Tokyo Ghoul: Hunger Pains

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Tokyo Ghoul: Hunger Pains

Post by Mr. Fountain on Wed Feb 04, 2015 1:17 am

February 14, 2016
4:42 PM
Omo

"Stay back!"
"Nothing to see here, everyone."
"Police business, please stay behind the yellow ribbons."

Red and blue strobe lights danced around the crime scene and the crowd that surrounded it. The cacophony of hushed and whispered conversations, gasps of horror, and barked orders from the police bounced off of the two-and-three-story buildings and down the streets and alleyways. It was dark out -- cloudy. A couple of the cops were worried that it was going to snow soon. It wouldn't snow, but the man directing the crime scene ordered that a small cover be set up over the body and evidence. Despite the officers' demands for the people to disperse, the crowd continued to grow larger.

A new group of people, three in all, arrived from the south side of the street. Like many of the others in the crowd, the new arrivals wore thick jackets and coats -- they had probably had doubled down on their pants as well. A taller man strode between the other two and wore a black, winter skullcap with a black and white striped scarf around his neck. The other two, a man and a woman, donned the hoods of their windbreakers as they approached the scene, and the tall man pulled his scarf up to cover his mouth and nose. They pushed their way through the crowd easily enough and reached the edge of the police barriers.

"No further, please," the officer nearest to the taller man said.

The taller man gave him barely a glance before turning to the broken body in the middle of the street. It looked as if the man had jumped from one of the buildings onto the pavement. The tall man looked up and there it was: a large "X" carved, deep and jagged, into the concrete wall of one building.

"It's him again, isn't it, Omo-sama?" one of the hooded figures, the female, asked the taller man.

Omo, the taller man, remained silent for a few moments as he continued to survey the scene before finally saying, "Mhm."

Omo squinted his eyes when the police finally covered the body with a makeshift tent. "Nikki-san, Nobuyori-san, do you smell anything?" Omo asked under his breath. Even though he was a ghoul, Omo's senses weren't quite as good as many of his counterparts, and Nikki's and Nobuyori's sense of smell was actually stronger than any other ghoul in the 9th Ward.

Omo heard two sharp intakes of breath behind him before Nikki, the female, said, "Nothing."

"Some of the people here do smell particularly tasty though," Nobuyori, the male, said.

"Nobu-chan! Not so loud!"

"Really tasty."

"Nobu!"

The two hooded ghouls said nothing else after that. Two or three minutes passed as Omo scrutinized the area from his position in the crowd before he suddenly turned and began pushing people out of his way to get out of the mob. Once free, Omo walked briskly down the narrow street, his two companions quickly following suit behind him.

"I want more sniffers working full time," Omo began talking as he walked down the street with purpose. 

"Yes, sir," the two hooded ghouls chirped in unison.

"This is the third time. I want to find whoever is doing this quickly, I would rather not have to bring the triads together over this."

"Yes, sir."

--------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later...
--------------------------------------------------------------------

February 17, 2016
12:56 AM
Kaku Yamarachi, First Class

First Class Ghoul Investigator Kaku Yamarachi pulled his arms over his head and interlocked his fingers before stretching himself out over his swivel chair. The man pulled his hands together behind his back to stretch out his biceps and triceps; he tightened his diaphragm and arched his back over the chair; he tightened his calves and thighs, bent his foot forward to stretch out his ankle, and fanned out his toes. Kaku finally relaxed after staying in this position for a few moments. He put the palm of his hand on his chin to bend his head in an odd angle to crack his neck. Feeling renewed, Kaku readjusted himself in the office chair and picked up the last file that he had been going over. 

The investigator was currently the only one in the three-room apartment. In charge of everyone working on the case, First Class Yamarachi had demanded that all of the ghoul investigators working on the 9th Ward's "X" Case live together within the 9th Ward for productivity's and mobility's sake. Being the eternal professional that he was, Kaku had arrived a day earlier than everyone else and had already moved his things into the apartment. 

Of course, Kaku had gone for the main bedroom -- it had its own bathroom. His room, like much of the rest of the apartment, was carpeted with a grey, coarse, and generally flat material; there were patches here and there where the carpet had been walked on or scuffed too many times, and the threads had been ripped upwards to make these spots almost fluffier than the rest of the floor.  The walls were painted with a white paint that looked rather faded and old. 

Kaku hadn't moved much into his room. He had only brought a newly-bought mattress with two pillows and a single comforter for the Western-styled bed frame that was already in the room, a personal mini-fridge, an Apple laptop accompanied by its charger and carrying case, clothes which he had unpacked into a small black dresser that was already in the room as well, the empty suitcase which he had brought the clothes in was put away in one corner of the room, two grey briefcases that sat beside the suitcase, his black leather swivel chair, and his heavy, ancient, oak writing desk which he dragged with him wherever he moved out of some strange sense of sentiment. 

Currently residing on the desk, which he had placed beside the only window in the room, were two mechanical pencils, one regular pencil, one black pen, one red pen, one yellow highlighter, one black sharpie, Kaku's Apple laptop, a pair of earphones, one wireless mouse, a stack of yellow files, an open file with several papers laying atop it, one opened bottle of Ramune soda, one unopened bottle of Shōchūand one grey tape-reco--

*click*

"This is First Class Ghoul Investigator Kaku Yamarachi speaking," Kaku said into the recorder. "It is currently... 12:56 AM. The day is the 17th of February. The year is 2016. It is a... Wends?... a Wednesday, yes." 

With his free hand, Kaku grabbed the open file and propped it open against his palm. He surveyed the information there once more before beginning to speak into the device again. "In my last entry, I relayed that I had been assigned to lead the "X" Case. There were two incidents prior to my assignment which opened the case, and about two days ago there was a third. I won't go over the specifics right now, they're all in the case files anyway."

Kaku clicked a button on the device to stop it from recording before pressing it into his chin in thought. He spent a few moments like that in silence before cutting the device back on again and resuming his private monologue. "There hasn't been a recorded ghoul-related incident in the 9th Ward in nine years. The CCG has been operating under the assumption that the ghouls within this ward were being regulated or controlled to extract this outcome. So, what exactly is happening now? My thoughts: a new ghoul or group to the ward is purposefully trying to end the status quo... or maybe X just wants to fuck with whoever is in charge of the 9th Ward. And I have a pretty good idea about who is in charge of the ward as well, but it's late. The other investigators are arriving tomorrow to move in and I will be briefing them on the case."

*click*


Last edited by Mr. Fountain on Wed May 06, 2015 2:03 am; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Tokyo Ghoul: Hunger Pains

Post by Fi Skirata on Wed Apr 22, 2015 8:51 pm

February 17, 2016
3:34 P.M.
Fuko Koibito, Second Class


Fuko collapsed onto his bed, propping his back to the wall. He let out a deep sigh, lighting his next cigarette. Only half a pack left. He'd have to make a run later that night. The investigator took a deep, filling drag of his vice. He briefly realized he hadn't asked if he was even allowed to smoke in this building.

Too late to ask now. He thought to himself as he exhaled, given the room a once over.

He had spent the last two hours moving furniture in. Too prideful to ask for help. Too cheap to pay for it. He had moved it all himself. He had to share the room he was in with his soon to be partner, so he tried not to cram it with shit. That and he loathed the idea that he might have to live in this apartment for an extended period of time.

A twin bed, no blankets or sheets. Just a black sleeping bag and a thin pillow.  A minifridge to the side of the bed, as if it was a table. It was stocked with energy drinks, coffee, crappy snacks, and beer. Not going without those. Fuko's clothing was still packed away in a single bag, slid under the bed alongside a box of movies and the case for his Diamond Dust. At the foot of the bed was a wheelie tv stand like an old A.V. club would have, with an old fashioned tv on top, with a built in VCR, connected to a DVD player. Damnit, if he had any free time, he was going to spend it right.

Hot ash fell onto his lap, and with a grunt the mixed man brushed the embers from his crotch onto the carpet. He shook his head.

Got caught spacing out. Can't do that. Can't lose concentration. Stay focused on the job. He reached over, grabbing a half empty can of soda he opened shortly after moving the minifridge in. He put the can between his thighs, using it as a makeshift ashtray.

Gotta stay focused on the job. You lose focus, you lose people. It won't happen again. Memories of the last few weeks flashed through his mind. His partner's death. The monster that killed him. A funeral. A grieving widow. In an instant he lost his brother. Just like that. They offered him time off. Time to mourn. He didn't accept it. No, better to use his frustration on something productive. Like killing more of those monsters before they killed more of his friends.

He realized he wasn't even really smoking anymore. He was immersed in his own thoughts, and before he knew it, the cigarette was mostly ash, barely hanging on. Fuko idly flicked the ashes into the can in his lap with a sigh. Nothing to do but wait for the others to show up so they can get briefed.

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