°•Desperate Times•°
“Shit…!” Puck hisses quietly. Of course he stumbled upon the head of this area. He takes a steady breath and stares warily at the edge of the roof before moving to peer over the edge at the other. His scarred and crudely tattooed, dark skin feels like it’s about to shake off, he’s trembling so much.
He calms when his eye falls on the other. The person who had called out didn’t seem much older than he was. But he keeps his guard up and carefully measures his words.
His accent is thick. He hasn’t spoken Japanese in a good long while. “… I’m not from the city. Don’t mean to be rude. Just hungry.” He considered and tilted his head, “My name’s Puck.” He realized his perch way up higher than this person, whom he is assuming is the head of the local pack, was likely a bad social cue. Outside of the city, it was hard to get this severe degree of higher ground.
He kept his eye on the other as he edged to the side of the building. Carefully he used his kagune to help him down the side of the building. He didn’t want to risk broken ankles on top of a missing eye if this ended in a fight. His kagune were wilted from hunger, but he held them out after getting safely to the ground. As hungry as he was, he might not be able to pull them out a second time if the other attacked him.
U t a watches the other ghoul slide down the side of the building, his hands leisurely placed in his pockets. They seem oddly careful of the climb down, hesitant, and it makes Uta tilt his head trying to see better in the dull light of the dark alleyway.
He can see the outline of the other ghoul tremble, and he takes a step back. Despite his ruthless behavior, it’s just not in Uta’s nature to take down ghouls who are frightened. It’s too easy, and there’s simply not much fun in it.
❝Well this ward is mine.❞ Uta says in response to the stranger’s hesitant statement, his tone even and sharp. He won’t hesitate to lash out, though the thought itself b o r e s him to tears.
Still though, he moves slowly to the dismembered corpse, pulling out a few of the organs and tossing them to the other. He’s feeling unusually generous tonight, and he pushes his hands back down into the pockets of his leather jacket. It’s oddly chilly and he wonders if the other ghoul is just cold. Probably not.
❝This ward, it’s pretty violent, too many ghouls and not enough meat, you might have better luck in places like the twentieth ward. Not here, especially if you want to be comfortable. You show any weakness here, another ghoul might have you for dinner. Cannibals are common here.❞
He steps back further, and taps his toe towards the small beam of moonlight that is filtering through the sky.
❝Come into the light.❞ he says, his tone soft and commanding, ❝I want to see you better.❞
Puck felt a surge of relief as flesh was tossed to him. He hesitated, however, edging forward and snatching it up. His eye kept on Uta the whole time. He ate slowly, not wanting to upset his stomach with a sudden influx of food. Though he ached for otherwise.
His trembling slowed to a stop as he watched the other closely. He was so relaxed. After giving out food like that, he must be strong. Even stronger to be head of a pack in the city. City ghouls didn’t live by the same unofficial rules as he was used to. He was wary.
Upon hearing Uta talk about the other wards, he huffed, “Those ‘nicer’ wards aren’t an option. I could never look human like you city ghouls.” He spractially spat the word city through his bites, feigning bravery. Though he did feel a twinge of insult.
His kagune slowly strengthened and folded into resting positions, “You really don’t know outside the city, do you? I’m a cannibal when I have to be. I was comfortable once. Starving, but with my mother, father, and two brothers.” He straightened his back when he finished, “They were torn from my hands. I never want to be 'comfortable’ again. Don’t assume you know me.”
He stepped into the light when beckoned, still cautious, but more judgemental of the other ghoul for his generous behavior and apparent care. His scarring apparent. His sharp teeth peeking out from between slightly parted lips. His eyepatch bloody from when the wound was fresh. Long dried, but bloody. His kagune had filled out, resting more proudly behind him, no longer withered.
“Giving food out in and of itself is weakness and yet you gave it to me. You’re either stupid or stupidly strong.” He tilted his head, “You think meat is scarce here, you try living in the wilds. Where your next meal could easily be 30 or more miles away.”
