There it was again—that sense of urgency that was like a foreboding, eating away at his peace and apathy like it was an unstoppable erosion, and before he knew it, he was waking up in another place he had no prior knowledge of. Yet, he could tell. It had been a while since the scientists had toyed with them—hadn’t it?
“…And we’re just entertainment for them. Ugh.”
An audible groan released; he was irritated. Not at the people who might have began this show, event—whatever it might have been called—but rather at himself, for being unprepared for this. His mind, his discipline, and his courage—where had it all gone? It had been lost in his laziness, and that was a loathsome act upon himself. Gritting his teeth was all he could do at the moment, the blood ringing in his ears reminding him that he had to get a grasp on what was going on.
…He had been so caught up that he didn’t even notice the fact that his right arm was glowing faintly, at least up until letters he could barely read showed themselves dimly. He was sitting, so his hand was at his side. …He felt three different warmths at his back, but he didn’t really take too much note of his. Focusing on the characters, trying to make legible sense out of them—
cout « “experiments:” « “aΓiadne’s thread will lead you from the labyrinth, though not ” « “you alone” « endl;
cout « “experiments: ” « “your lives are “linked”” « endl;
cout « “experiments: ” « “fight your way to the “core” and the answers you seek will be revealed” « endl;
—He garnered that this A…upside down L? Iadne-person was likely the person who had instigated this whole thing. As a result, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of fervent passion at the irony of this entire deal. Meant to fight to the core? How many times had he heard of this challenge—far too many times, actually. It didn’t seem like something possible, but who was he to give up simply because of that? Either way, he realized he had people at his back, after looking where the incandescent string on his arm led. They all seemed fairly normal, the only standout being a head of white hair directly at his back, which was incredibly odd-looking, to say the least. His gaze lurking on that for just a moment, he supposed he should actually stand up and get going.
Having thought that, he pushed himself up to get moving, but just before he stood up in totality, he got knocked down with force like a jackhammer.
He couldn’t comprehend what had hit him. Perhaps because his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the light, or maybe because he wasn’t prepared enough, but something—something that was flying—struck him straight back into the ground from which he just stood up. His shoulder was steaming, and thought it would be fine in a few moments, blood was flowing out. He was wounded, and it was clear there was an enemy around.
It was pretty obvious that this was going to be one tough fight, all the way to this supposed “Core.”
❀ — ˃ Locked in a daze, as quickly as the words had appeared; left her side. Pivoting on her heel, she realises now she’s locked in large maze-like walls. A sense of urgency, downright nervousness enters; rubbing her eyes while taking a gander to her surroundings. As a ghoul she presents no threat, her talents are grounded— as she is.
Surrounding her thumb, the back of her neck heats up— as though she knows there’s someone there, rather connected to. Curiously the hint of blood, metallic and rusty in nature; a smell the ghoul was accustomed to smelling on a regular basis. Her heightened sense of smell never proves a bother, as slowly she follows her nose— knowing someone to be near.
Sooner does she follow down the winding path; gleam and brilliantly lit maze, does she come across her final destination. Flashes of red which catch her eyes, the ever familiar smell which she urgently craves. Knowing there was someone there, she needs to call out; simply so they know she’s there.. waiting.
❝Your shoulder…❞ she begins, taking a moment to watch the blood drip.
She has nothing to say, flashes of open flesh cause the ghoul to feel a sense of excitement; withstanding her figure walks closer— firstly understanding she didn’t know the male from a bar of soap, literally.❝I-I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think we should leave.❞ Hinami knows it isn’t safe, especially while she has no means to fight; nor with an injured person at her wake.
IT’S A DULL FORCE that wakes her. It pains her, her shoulder, and she isn’t certain why. Realizing now from the voices that reach her ears, that she may just have been the last to wake. Her head throbs, and she feels a growth of irritation, a strange sort of anxiety that falls and confuddled she certainly is, doesn’t understand completely where the hell it comes from, but maybe she’s about to find out. Head turning to the closest individuals she finds familiarity, eyes widened in particular when she thinks the voice to be familiar, and her face confirms just that. "Hinami!" Hurriedly she rushes over to her side, intending to ask if she was fine, if any bastards had come to harm her she’ll make them pay—and where… Where the hell even were they? But there comes yet another familiar scent, a shade of crimson upon someone’s shoulder, trail of sight following Hinami’s own.
Instinct precedes her suspicion, though it exists. The scent of human blood would tease her to devour, but she’ll take care to discard the thought when they clearly have something much larger to worry about. The flapping of wings would sound from above, a harrowing screech with volumes compelling that she cover her ears…but that would give it just what it wants, wouldn’t it? She wishes she knew what the hell was going on, but she knows well enough she’s no longer defenceless in this fucking hell of a city she’s forced to live in.
So her head’s turned up and she watches where it’s headed, and when it makes for another dive to strike… No, that wasn’t—"Kaneki!" It’s only then she notices; his presence is the least to be expected and here of all places, but she only has a second to react before it makes to attack him. So it rises, abrupt as her movements, black flames resembling her wing—flightless though it was she runs, leaps from where she stood and strikes. The monstrous eagle screeches once again; Touka can’t be certain of the amount of damage done but it glides back as if in surprise, rises further into the skies away from where they stood and she lands, just before the white-haired male. And she knows their time is limited. It’s only a matter of time before it strikes again, before she’s able to say enough of all that she wishes to say. So for now she’s to make do with the most obvious question she isn’t even certain he can answer.
…And where have you been all this time?
he could feel their fear, could feel his fear, carnal and compartmentalized as it was, shrinking his better half into a corner. the shadows thrown by walls and colossi around them resemble the state of his mind as the garbled lines along his wrist stretched through his inner nervous system and became the illegible whispers of his thoughts, punctuated by the repeated sounds of his own bones cracking under invisible pressure in the air, of the rustling of hundreds of miniscule legs in the canals of his ears, of the feather touches left by their marches across his skin.
against the garbled words and tangled thoughts of his inner world, there was something etched in light, a sentence he could grab onto on the inside as his outer self was momentarily driven to nothing greater than a shaking kakuhou iris and twitching, blackened fingernails. protect. he had fought against this aspect of himself to protect them. he had dove back into his own shadows to protect them. because splitting himself and his conscious into a hundred different segments, growing a hundred fracturing limbs of his psyche, spreading himself too thin, that was his weakness.
kaneki's breaths were heavy then, thick as the pressure of the air weighing down upon them, falling from his lungs like the drafts and wingbeats from overhead. he'd undergone an rc shift, his shaking right eye stained black by something thick and inhuman, his iris blood red, yet, try as he might, he could not reach in to reach out with that power, could not extend the limbs of his insanity ... he could not draw upon his latent power. instead, he was left to come to his senses, to ease into his reaction time as he was struck down not only by his initially garbled mind, but a reeling sense of confusion, the sort that sent his neck snapping back with whiplash thoughts.
it was a familiar voice that strung his thoughts taught once again, pulled together a sense tension through their pact that left him clear enough, let him break the focus on the feeling of those hundreds of legs crawling up his skin just long enough to jump out of the way, to see a golden set of wings clouding his view of the ceiling, but to watch a metamorphosis of a girl into a butterfly as yet another set spread wide to protect him.
he'd promised touka kirishima he'd be the one to take care of her, he remembered that much, but here he was, reduced to this, all of that strain for nothing.
he'd an inkling that the frustration that tugged at the edges of his senses, cut clear through the fear, was not his own, but that of the ghoul who spread herself wide to shield him from harm. but, that wouldn't be enough, it was never was for him. he paid not attention to her first question, and instead took a sweeping inventory of the area, the walls, the ceiling (as high as he could see), the raptor that took another screaming dive down, talons spread, to take another shot at them.
another in the area caught his eye, he who'd called out so soon before, whose shoulder had been torn open by the scoring of claws, was already experiencing the phenomena of knitting flesh. in a split second, the half ghoul's eyes narrowed. two ghouls ... no, he could smell and sense a third, could recognize that voice. hinami? four regenerators in an area, plagued by a giant eagle.
a beast whose feathers shone in the dim light like bronze, whose movements were wholly mechanical, things that were easy enough to notice even in a session of observation limited severely by time. the next time it dove was for the woman whose wings were spread wide like the petals of a poison flower, and, after grabbing for a rudimentary weapon upon the ground, kaneki too dove, this time, to repay the favor for the woman who wished to be his shield.
( now isn't the time, touka-chan! )
( i've read about this! it's the eagle! the caucasian eagle! from the heraclean myths! it's programmed to go after regenerators, and right now we're chopped liver! )
