N a___S o r iSori raised her eyebrows at Origami.
“You can guess that I’m not the fondest of you. Ha. Greatest deduction of the century, everyone.” She leaned forward in her seat, hands clasped and voice sardonic, as if she were doing a méthode Stanislavski take on some Scarface type character...
N a___S o r i
Sori leaned back into the plushness of her couch, listening more to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof than to the reluctantly told backgrounds of Kuroshita and Yatagarasu. Occasionally, something peaked her interest and she drifted out of her stupor to consider it more...
N a___S o r i
Sori shrugged and spoke with the tone of one who was only slightly amused. “We prefer sacrificing goats, if you can find them, but I suppose virgins work too.”
She inclined her head in greeting as a returning customer (though not a frequent one) entered the shop to the light...
N a___S o r i
Sori sat in the darkness of her study, illuminated only by the glow of her graphics tablet. She absently tapped her pen against its mirrored surface, leaving dots of digital ink on the canvas.
The next chapter of Tasty! was laid out across the screen in garish shades of red and...
<ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION RECEIVED. INITIALIZING...>
FIRST CLASS, DEPUTY OF SQUAD 36
Himiko "Eastwind" Otsuki
Himiko was born to two ‘loving, obnoxiously wealthy parents who spoiled (her) to no end’ (in the subject’s own words). While staying in their summer home in Italy, an attack by ghouls...
N a___S o r i
The sky was uncharacteristically clear today. Sori stared out the window, fingers drumming against the glossy black screen of her new Cintiq graphics tablet.
Tokyo was pretty much what she had expected, which was surprising. She’d been mainly going off tourist reviews, which...