(Semi-Detailed) Tokyo Ghoul

Prizzy Kriyze · Feb 2, 2015

Your CS doesn't necessarily need to be as pretty as the following ones, just make sure you get all the details in.

GHOUL CHARACTER SHEET

NAME

Nickname

Age

Gender

Height

Weight

Dominant Hand

Blood Type

Other Info
Written Description {{Does not have to be long}}

Likes

General Personality

Dislikes

Skills

Bio

GHOUL CHARACTER SHEET

NAME
Nickname

Age
Gender
Height
Weight
Dominant Hand
Blood Type
Other Info
[img=http://francis.edu/uploadedImages/Content/Home/Academics/Schools_and_Departments/blank-profile-photo.jpg]Written Description {{Does not have to be long}}

Likes
General Personality
Dislikes
Skills
Bio

Code:

INVESTIGATOR (DOVE) CHARACTER SHEET (Alternatively regular human sheet)

NAME

Nickname

Age

Gender

Height

Weight

Dominant Hand

Blood Type

Other Info
Written Description {{Does not have to be long}}

Likes

General Personality

Dislikes

Skills

Bio

INVESTIGATOR (DOVE) CHARACTER SHEET (Alternatively regular human sheet)

NAME
Nickname

Age
Gender
Height
Weight
Dominant Hand
Blood Type
Other Info
[img=http://francis.edu/uploadedImages/Content/Home/Academics/Schools_and_Departments/blank-profile-photo.jpg]Written Description {{Does not have to be long}}

Likes
General Personality
Dislikes
Skills
Bio

Code:

Character Roster

Player

Ghoul/Dove

OC Name

Age

Rating/Rank

Gender

Organization

DescriptedEnd

Ghoul

Descention "Cannibal" Renen

17

S

Male

Gungnir

Paranoia

Dove

Lynne "Crimson Grosbeak" Eilinne

19

3

Female

CCG

Prizzy Kriyze

Ghoul

Kain "Angel" Beah

26

SS~

Male

Gungnir

Nalzrad

Ghoul

Tekis "Faceless" Ruthbale

17

B

Male

Clear Moon

Aryel

Ghoul

Minuale "Blayde" Risionae

22

S

Female

Toni's Bastards

Lucem Tenebris

Ghoul

Shioreta Z?ka

18

Unknown

Male

N/A

AllHailDago

Dove

Tony L. Kalex

26

N/A

Male

CCG

Lucem Tenebris

Dove

Daishi Masanori

20

1

Male

CCG

Jaysun

Dove

Dean "Yolo" Sinclair

27

Special

Male

CCG

Mockingbird

Ghoul

Hiro Inuhoozuki

20

B

Male

Clear Moon

Mockingbird

Dove

Nia Inuhoozuki

20

2

Female

CCG

Wifi and Worms

Ghoul

Noriko Minami

20

A

Female

Toni's Bastards

IG42

Ghoul

Jigo Tegaki

21

S

Male

-

Ghouls/Investigators: 8/5

Male/Female: 9/4

CCG: 5

Gungnir: 2

Clear Moon: 2

Toni's Bastards: 2

Rank: One Rank 3, One Rank 2, One Rank 1, One Rank Special

Rating: 2 B, 1 A, 3 S, 1 SS~, 1 Unknown

DescriptedEnd · Feb 2, 2015

GHOUL CHARACTER SHEET

|Descention Renen|

|Cannibal|

17 |Age|

Male |Gender|

5'7 |Height|

156lb |Weight|

Right |Dominant Hand|

O- |Blood Type|

--- |Other Info|
|Written Description|

Descention is shorter, but buff young male with a straight posture type. His hair is a little longer than his shoulder blades, a brownish-blonde - which he often keeps in a sloppy ponytail - , eyes bright, lively pools of shimmering, rich amber. He has highly-detailed tattoos that outline his ribs and spinal column. His skin is otherwise rather smooth, only a couple small scars littering the skin above his heel. He's typically clad in a sports jersey of some kind - or t-shirt representing some sort of team - as well as a simple black and yellow jacked and distressed jeans. Sometimes, he can be seen wearing glasses, but that's uncommon ; he typically is wearing his contacts as they're easier to fight with. Other than that, he often has several bracelets and wristbands donning each wrist and a backpack hoisted onto one shoulder. In each earlobe, he has a single, silver stud - the left has a tiny plus engraved, while the right has a negative symbol. In his right ear, he has a single copper industrial.

|General Personality|

He has the general attitude of "I really don't give-a-fuck." Aloof and seemingly carefree, he has a thought train that can be hard to follow. However, when he's hungry or just returning from a hunt, he'll go into a frenzy - completely mute and ready to stab just about anything that moves that either appears edible or is in his way. He typically stays away from preying on humans, instead using them as a supplement for his diet. Typically, he picks off ghouls he feels are causing too much commotion and such to prevent the doves from coming in his area, which he feels keeps him safer. It's not like he has an issue doing it, he doesn't really care and isn't effected by others suffering.

|Likes| He highly enjoys tennis as well as football, as well as snakes. In addition, he also likes jogging - he's a very athletic sort of ghoul.

|Dislikes| 'Noisey' Ghouls, reading, rain, squeaky doors.

|Skills| He's adept in quickly finishing fights, and tennis.

|Bio|

Descention's parents were also cannibalistic Ghouls; however, instead of the outside life that Descention currently lives, they hid in the slums, picking off ghouls that came into their territory. The young boy didn't each as much as his parents did, who would consume any ghoul - or person - that padded in immediately. They could've been called binge eaters easily, but Descention only ate as he felt necessary. He was around 14 when he developed is full Kakuja, having struggled with it since he was 11 years of age. (Lazy Bio is Lazy))

Fuckin' coding it borked again ;n; Oh well, at least it's done now

-And Oit fixes the coding yet again for Dess

Hippopotamus · Feb 3, 2015

INVESTIGATOR (DOVE) CLASSIFIED FILES

Lynne Eilinne

Crimson Grosbeak

Age

19

Gender

Female

Height

5'06"

Weight

124 lbs.

Dominant Hand

Left

Blood Type

A-
- Black hair, goes 2/3 down her back. Usually worn down or in two loose ponytails over the shoulders.
- Plum-colored eyes. Often accented by black bags from lack of sleep.
- Slender build, little chest growth. Moderate muscle mass on arms and legs.
- Very light peach skin tone
- For casual apparel, sticks to baggy/loose top clothing & slim, shape-fitting bottoms [leggings/pants]. For formalwear, would never wear a dress. Would stick to suits and blouses with skirts. The only exception to dresses are her performances, where she will wear anything that is picked out for her.

Likes

Honeybuns, Cinnamon flavoring, Praise, Taking Breaks, Inspired/Enthused people, Birdwatching, Gifts, Sleep

General Personality
- Focused (when not drowsy), down-to-earth, patient, knows her position in affairs.
- Hostile to deception outside work, avoids lying. Cautious of being manipulated.
- Appreciative, respectful.
- Clumsy, inattentive, & nearly unresponsive as tired often
- Follower; follows directions, obedient
- Insecure about true family and idol secrecy, closed about origins.
- Slightly sociable. Loves company, avoids being alone.
- Naively responsible, constantly stressed with responsibilities she forces on herself.
Dislikes

Being scolded, Rain, Hypocrisy, Relentless tasks, Being overly stressed, Bitter tastes, Being alone, Faking her emotions, Interviews

Skills

Besides having a great singing voice, she has no other prominent, distinguishing qualities as a person.

Bio
- Born from human mother and quinx father. Had one older brother.
- Mother died to a ghoul while Lynne was 4. In despair, father took her brother and disappeared.
- Lynne orphaned & enlisted in Ghoul Academy. Adopted through midst of Academy.
- Became a solo music idol from adoptive parents and voice. Popularity spans countrywide.
- Encounter with ghoul, saved by investigator on patrol. Decided on becoming an investigator (quinx) following father's lead.
- Balances between the two lifestyles daily.

Prizzy Kriyze · Feb 3, 2015

Kain Beah

Angel

Age

26

Gender

Male

Height

6'4''

Weight

244lbs

Dominant Hand

Ambidextrous

Blood Type

AB+
Written Description

Kain is a tall slender man, and possesses much more physical strength than you'd expect of someone with his physical build. He's got very sharp features and very pale skin, as well as waist-long white hair that he keeps hang all around him. His eyes are not white like in the picture, but they are however grey, and fits with the rest of his general appearance. His skin is completely white, barely even showing veins underneath it. No blemishes, scar nor freckles break the completely pale pattern, and he refuses to get tattoos.

He usually dons white or black apparel, since he's somewhat into keeping his style strictly in black and white to go with his physical appearance. He's got 2 simple silver stud earings in his right ear for personal reasons, and that's the only thing he allows himself to wear aside from regular clothing.
Rating

SS~

Eyes

Normal

Kagune

Ukaku/Bikaku

Kain inherited two separate Kagune from his parents, though very few people know about the bikaku one as he's able to summon them individually. His Ukaku Kagune resembles wings made out of bone, are surprisingly resilient for Ukaku type kagune. He's capable of firing spear-like chunks of them at his enemies, though of course at the cost of stamina.

The Bikaku kagune resembles a long thick spine with spike-like protrusions sticking out from it. It can grow up to about 25 meters in length, and can get about as thick as a 55-gallon barrel. He's much more proficient with his tail Kagune, and therefore keeps it hidden as a sort of trump card.

Mask

Organization

Gungnir

Occupation

Leader Position within Gungnir
Likes

- Coffee

- Reading

- Dangerous Situations

- Anything to get the heart racing

Dislikes

- Rust

- Old Music

- Rats

- Dirty Motels

- Boredom

General Personality

Kaine is a quiet, laid-back sort of guy. He can come off as quite charismatic, but if you know him for long enough you'll find that you've only been fed his standardized responses for everything. He is quite bored of everything life has to offer him, and though he seldom actually feels boredom, he won't make much of an effort for anything anymore. The only thing that's given him clarity is the goal of bringing down CCG, so it's the only thing he puts energy into.

Skills

- Mostly Fighting

- Goldsmithing

- Calm Thinking

Bio

Kaine was born and raised in the underground 11th ward by two independent ghoul lovers as his parents. They were both powerful ghouls, and managed to protect him during his childhood to the point where he almost lived the life of a regular human. Having his life mixed with ghoul and human experiences had some sort of bad effect on him however, as he quickly grew bored of anything he ever did. At the age of 12 he convinced his parents to teach him how to use his Kagune, and he soon learned that he had a certain sick interest in the bursts of adrenaline that battle offered him.

As he kept getting into trouble to satisfy his lust for adrenaline, he got more and more enemies. Eventually, the friends and family of ghouls he'd killed for fun banded together and launched an assassination against him at the age of 15. Both his parents died protecting him there, and as an honor to their memory he decided to join up with the organization they'd both worked for, Gungnir.

Nalzrad · Feb 4, 2015

Tekis Ruthbale

Faceless

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Height: 6''2

Weight: 113 KG

Dominant Hand: Right

Blood Type: AB-

Other Info:
Written Description

Tekis is a silent individual who only speaks if it is necessary. Cold in appearence, Tekis shows no emotions other than anger, pity, depression and hate. He will stay out of your away unless you goad him. Tekis is always blunt, getting straight to the point without sugar-coating anything. This can make him seem like an asshole at times.
Rating: B~S

Eyes: One-Eyed (Prizzy allowed me so HA!)

Kagune: Rinkaku: has an appearance similar to scaled tentacles and is released at the back around the waist. 3 to be exact, blue and red.

Mask

(The eye with the pattern is left, the other eye should not be there. The mask should contain only one eye hole. The cloak shouldn't be there either)

Organization: Clear Moon

Occupation: Poker chip dealer and the local poker place. The pay is lousy, but it blends Tekis in the human world rather well. A pokerchip dealer boy as a ghoul? Nahh... Am I right?
Likes: A fine glass of mature blood, the cold, solitude, silence, meditation.

General Personality: Cold, emotionless and silent.

Dislikes: Loud people, cocky and arrogant people, the warmth, his weaknesses.

Skills: Can adapt to any situation. Tekis learns techniques as he analyses them and mulls them. His newly learned ability will be hard to learn, as he is not familiar with it's depth. However with time he can master the technique. His best form of attack is brute force, stealth and style combined.

Bio: Not much is known about Tekis' past life. He grew up in an orphanage without parents or friends. He was always alone, with no one to look up to, no role model. He had nothing. All the kids stayed away from him, as he was rather different. One day a group of gang members raided the orphanage, taking everyone as hostage. It was most likely Toni's Bastards . Tekis didn't obey their commands. Little did they know they were in for a shock. Tekis killed 6 out of 8 gang members that were there, leaving the rest wounded. After escaping the orphanage and bandits, Tekis has been going solo ever since. That day was the first day he killed one of his own.

Aryel · Feb 6, 2015

Minaule Risionae

Blayde

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Height: 5'2

Weight: 67 kg

Dominant Hand: Right hand

Blood Type: B-

Other Info
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Written Description

Minaule is small in stature, but is surprisingly strong for her size. Her red hair is cut short, since keeping it long is proving to be a drag for her. Her eyes are a bright green, shining like emeralds when hit right with the surrounding light.

Her usual outfit consists of hoodies and shorts, as she likes how free her legs can move. You'll also never see her without her choker on.

Likes

-Music

-Reading

-Skateboarding

-Sketching

Dislikes

-Silence

-Being slow

-Cats

-Annoying kids

-Helpless people

General Personality

Girly, boisterous, diva and fragile are things Minaule is not. She loves all things non-girly, and hates getting into skirts and dresses alike. She's a happy-go-lucky person and sees no danger even when facing against all odds, which makes her seem crazy as some people call her. She only ever gets serious when she knows she has a slim chance when facing an enemy, giving her her much loved adrenaline rush.

Skills

-Combat

-Killing stuff

Bio

Minaule was born to two ghouls that lived in peace in the 20th ward. She managed to live her life like a normal human girl would: going to school, hanging out with friends, staying up late to talk about boys. She lived happily with her parents, who taught her how to handle human food, how to control her Kagune and how to live alongside humans. But their peaceful life was short lived, as they were caught by the CCG one night.

Her parents slaughtered in front of her eyes, she ran away, far away from the doves. She managed to escape but had to live in the alleyways for a good month or two, having to eat leftover human carcasses or having to kill old people when they least suspected it. Minaule was saved when a ghoul found her laying inside a cardboard box. He took her back to his home, the 11th ward, and kept her under his care alongside his other fellow ghouls.

Having to forget her past, she turned from the shy, fragile and delicate girl she was to the rowdy, ruthless and happy-go-lucky-I-don't-care-how-many-you-are-I-just-want-to-kill-stuff person she is today.

Lucem · Feb 7, 2015

Shioreta Zōka

Age

18

Gender

Male

Height

5'5"

Weight

115 lbs

Dominant Hand

Right

Blood Type

O-

Other Info

Due to severe amounts of stress, Zōka has developed Ageusia and slight Anosmi, leaving without the sense of taste and his sense of smell mildly impaired. With his current circumstances, the defective taste buds work well when disguising his consumption of Human food. However, this does not mean that his stomach is free of the concequences.

Being unable to hold anything down, Zōka has passed this off as a mere isssue of digestion and a weak stomach. Despite the fact remaining that he is never able to eat, his brain has opted to ignore this and treats the condition as nothing unusual.
<a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/image.jpg.11cd17aaea83a4792abf1e5dcac70304.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="41890" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/image.jpg.11cd17aaea83a4792abf1e5dcac70304.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a> Zóka is a bit short for his age group, being slightly underweight as well. His short stature goes in hand from his frail-looking appearance, not possessing a noticeable amount of muscle. His skin tone is fair, balancing out between pale and dark.

His hair is a mix of both blue and violet, his irises taking after the former. When hunting, the right iris becomes red, the white sclera shifting to black. The singular Kakugan is only observable during this time.

Likes

-Reading

-Gardening

-Music

-Snow

- Animals

General Personality

Despite being one of the monsters that consume the flesh of Humans, Zōka's personality conflicts with the dark image of Ghouls that has been painted by society. The creatures that roam the streets at night have been thought of as cruel and ruthless, only caring about killing others for the sake of satisfying their own gluttony. The young man that has found himself in this twisted world is nothing like these demons.

Zōka is a very meek individual that keeps to himself at all times. The tone of his voice is constantly soft, hardly ever reaching loud volumes. In a crowd, he is one of those that tend to blend in, washed away in the sea of people. His presence is quite minimal, leaving most to pass him by without a single glance. This is not to say that he is as silent as a mouse, but he will never be found actively drawing attention to himself.

The young man isn't very fond of putting himself on display for all to see, being rather withdrawn in his actions. This preference to remain blind to any wandering eye has left him unaccustomed to being the center of any sort of focus, causing him to be filled with a sense of uneasiness. He has always been fond of quiet activities and enjoying the peace that he is able to achieve during this times. Although, this is not to say that he dislikes interacting with others.

If he had to choose between being within the accompany of his fellow man or remaining in solitude, he'd say that he prefers being around others. As reserved as he may be, Zōka actually enjoys talking to people and has found the notion of being able to have a friend pleasant. However, as previously stated, he has had little experience, so he is a bit socially awkward, often at a loss of what to say during conversation.

During the times where he finds himself chatting with someone or in any general interaction, Zōka is actually quite kind. His nature is a soft and light-hearted one, finding joy in being able to pass the feeling on to others. He knows that such a wish is futile, but he hopes that he may be able to help people in need, wanting to be of assistance in any way possible.

Most of the time, he will be the one that is approached, rather than approach others. This goes back to the root of his personality, finding it hard to express himself. He's never quite sure how to properly put his thoughts and feelings into words, but he will try nonetheless. However, he will not always make an attempt at voicing what he truly thinks.

Zōka is hardly assertive, worried that he may make a mistake and cause a conflict. He may slip at times, but for the most part, he is able to keep his mouth zipped. A strong believer in pacifism, he greatly dislikes the idea of violence and any sort of confrontation, distancing himself from such events to the best of his abilities.

Despite his aversion to heated situations, Zōka has an admitted weakness for trying to mediate before things escalate. This is difficult, as pressure can weigh down on him heavily and leave him to be backed into a corner. Mainly, his attempts consist of trying to reason with the aggressors, nervous smile on his face and trying not to let the sweat brought by anxiety be seen.

This weakness cannot be seen very often, unless the event absolutely must be prevented. If possible, he turns a blind eye to anything that can be deemed as fearsome and intimidating. To some, he can be described as a coward.

Zōka's cowardice has more layers than simply being afraid. While fear definitely plays a part, it mostly has to do with the growing feeling that he is worthless. In his mind, he cannot do anything right. In some areas this can be seen as truth.

He has no evident physical strength, being more of a thinker than a fighter. His courage is constantly in a cycle of waning and waxing, resembling the phases of the moon. The skittish nature he possesses also makes him somewhat unreliable.

The aforementioned traits are only a few marks on the grand list of insecurities, Zōka having a strong sense of inferiority. Despite these feelings, he is not in a constant state of depression or questioning why he has turned out as such a failure. He is very aware of these insecurities and takes no offense when they are pointed out. This has led to self-deprecating humor, often commenting on his own mistakes in an attempt to lighten the mood, hoping that no tension will come about from another's hostile intentions.

While he is seemingly a good sport about those that seek to cause emotional and even physical harm against him, there are many other feelings that the young man keeps deep inside. The listed qualities are all a part of his true self, something that is fact. However, there are others that he keeps locked away and even tries to delude himself into believing that they don't exist.

Beneath everything, there is a crippling loneliness that Zōka attempts to keep chained in the depths of his heart. He tries his best not to acknowledge the feeling of being alone and worthless, keeping up the persona of wanting to help others and take part in those that enjoy picking at his insecurities. For Humans, the feeling of solitude can be a living Hell. As someone that was once Human, he is no different.

While Zōka keeps away the parts of himself that have the potential to send him spiraling into a world of depression, there is another part of him that he wishes to keep hidden from the world. However, unlike the former emotional turmoil, these hidden truths are much darker in nature. It is here that the boundary of his psyche begins.

When his world shattered into pieces, he was no longer Human. He was part Ghoul, something he did not want to believe with his all his heart. So, he didn't.

It didn't stop there. In his mind's final attempt to keep from breaking, it split in two. It changed his memory, completely writing over his life and filling the pages with new words. He lives in a reality of his own creation, hanging on to a loose thread of sanity.

The brain is fragile and cannot deal with the complete burden of fighting the urges of the second side. So, split into two, the Ghoul side takes over when those urges must be met, unable to handle the pain of being denied. Here, there is nothing but a monster.

Since Zōka believes himself to be Human, he does not feed. However, a Ghoul must eat and this cannot change. As a result, he will go long periods of time without consuming until he physically cannot bear it any longer. At this point in time, his split consciousness is put into effect, his humanity drowning in black and the monster taking over. When he awakes, the events of those nights are never remembered, the previous hunger gone.

Equal parts kind and delusional, Zōka is a Ghoul that fears the creatures he has convinced himself he has nothing to do with. He is composed, but dangerously close to the edge. Settled, yet unnerved.

Dislikes

-Confrontation

-Being the center of attention

-Being alone

Skills

Zōka has no skills that are worthy of note, but he makes a fairly good cup of coffee and does well at flower arrangement.

Bio

Ever since he was a child, he could remember it. The delightful smell that would tingle his senses and fill him with sweet serenity. This peace was all due to that sent and the one which gave off such a soothing aroma. His mother was always the source of comfort he could look to.

From birth, the woman had always been there for him, close enough to hear the beat of her warm heart. As an infant, he could hardly be separated from the one that gave him life, crying if he was to be distanced from her, as if that very life would end if he could not grip her index finger within his small palms. Only a mother could provide such an accommodating love.

In his early life, Zōka lived in a small home within Tokyo with his mother to watch over him. The days were often similar to one another, following the same routines of their individual schedules and meeting with one another at a moment's desire. It was nothing glamorous, but nothing stood out as horrid either.

They lived as an ordinary parent and child, no dark presence to speak of. In fact, the boy could only find happy memories whenever he would be able to recall the events of that point in time. In his heart and mind, that happiness was attributed to his mother.

The person he loved so dearly was the sun to his azure sky, radiating with beauty and kindness. She never scolded him and always carried a gentle tone in her voice, the vocals playing in his ears like a sweet harmony. Whenever she spoke, he couldn't help but feel tranquil and hang on every word like the obedient child he was. However, as addictive as those words were, sweeter than honey, it was the wondrous scent that came along with her very presence, all other senses left to feel envy for being unable to partake in the joy.

His mother was a florist, tending to several plants and elegant flowers within her day. Everyone that knew her would agree that it suited the woman perfectly. Her grace and gentle touch would be able to make any wilted stem bloom to life, any decaying petal shine with lustrous glow.

It was not a job that would put them in the life of luxury, but a simple flower shop was enough to provide. That's how she was. She never desired and she was never consumed by greed, humble and generous to the very core. She would have the habit of doting on her little one, spoiling him with tiny trinkets or a special meal when it was possible. However Zōka didn't need any of that.

His mother's presence was the only gift he would ever need or want. A warm embrace was more than enough to make him feel like the luckiest child to ever exist. He truly loved her.

Where life starts, two other existences are needed to bring about the third. In this case, the second would take the form of his father. The other half of the pair that would lead the offspring into their future and take part in watching the apple of the tree grow. However, that is what it was meant to be like. Even with all his strength and childish imagination, Zōka could never picture the face of his father.

He could not remember anything about the man that took part in his conception. He was not even able to recall if he had left before his birth or following the time when he was brought back from the room of white. Even a reason was not clear for this striking absence.

Despite this, the boy was never sad or angry. If anything, he was filled with curiosity about the man, his young mind compelling him to ask questions to sate it. To answer these inquiries, his mother was there with a smile to give her little one knowledge.

She would tell stories about what he was like and a few of the things he had done prior to his vanishing. However, she would never once let who he truly was or the reason for his lacking presence slip from her lips. He was fine with this, having no qualms about what he was given, relishing within those tales that could have possibly only been a work of fiction.

Even if his mother would come to ask if he ever wanted to see his father, the child's answer would never give affirmation. If his father ever arrived, he would not object to the appearance and accept the event. However, he would not actively seek him out or pry into hidden details. He already had the only person he would ever need.

As much as he would have liked to be attached to the woman's hip at all times, the single parent had obligations that would keep food on the table and allow them to continue their way of living. Saddened by the distance, he would still go his own way, reluctantly separating. The lack of a second figure required such a timed split.

While his mother would spend her half arranging flora, Zōka would follow the path of education like all kids his age did. During his periods alone in school, his solitude did not only have to do with being without his mother. In that place, he was isolated, left without the warmth of another or even the sense that he had been acknowledged.

In school, no matter the year, others kept their distance from him. He never did anything that particularly warranted the avoidance, only being quite silent as he was accustomed to behaving. Perhaps that was why.

He always followed by his mother's example, aiming to be like her. Unlike the rambunctious youths, he was silent and didn't necessarily approve of bad behavior. Among his peers, such a personality was found to be an annoyance, putting him much further than simple arm's length. He spoiled everything and to prevent this, he did not exist. He may as well have been a ghost, if not having less of a presence than a specter.

The loneliness was something he did not enjoy. No matter how much he would speak, despite how little he already did so, no heads would turn. Even the adults seemed to turn a blind eye to him, left in the back and only able to twiddle his thumbs as time would slowly pass. He did not exist.

Rather than lament, Zōka always kept his gaze to the sun, the radiance that kept his life bright. Even if it would take quite some time for that sun to rise while he waited in the empty house, it would eventually shine. Bringing along the comforting scent of pollen, the sun itself would walk through his door.

Whenever she came home in the late hours of the day, he would embrace his mother with a hug, the comforting beat of her heart resounding in his ears and his indulging in what only she could provide. As he felt the warmth, nothing else mattered. Whether it was the presence of his father or the companionship of his fellow students, it was unnecessary. All he needed was his mother. He could be happy with only that.

Over the years, the cycle would continue, the child-like dependence never ceasing. It wasn't too excessive or intrusive on the woman's life, but how he relied on his mother's being was obvious. She was all that he had in a world that did not turn for him.

He would continue to take after her in many ways, even learning how to properly arrange the flowers she loved so much. Her gentle nature was his now more the ever, a spitting image between mother and child. It was truly a sight to see, the small family able to be content with just themselves, despite the growing distance.

As much as things had remained the same, such as Zōka growing into his mother's image, differences had also formed. Perhaps different would not be the correct word to use, as nothing had truly changed. Rather, he now began to notice oddities that had always been prevalent in his life from the beginning.

Despite the hard work of his mother to provide food, not once could he remember a meal that she had crafted. To be more precise, the memory of eating escaped him. When had he ever taken a bite of anything? The sensation of hunger was foreign, stomach never calling out to be filled.

He did not question this, as he had a poor memory in regards to many events. However, he would question something. He would question those terrible marks on his mother's skin, healed and new scars to stand out on porcelain flesh.

Zōka became increasingly worried about his mother's safety, fearing that someone had brought harm upon her. He begged her to tell him where she had gotten such injuries, her safety of greater importance than the oxygen that filled his lungs. In a mixture of relief and uncertainty, his mother would tell him that she was perfectly fine and that the wounds had been existent for a great period of time, a mere event that had been left in the past. As much as he would try to believe her and even force himself to, the trembling in her voice and uneasiness in her eyes did not escape him.

Noticing these injuries seemed to signal the end of the days where he could look to his mother and receive her comfort. It had happened so quickly that he thought it to be a dream. However, the pain of being taken away by force and placed in the bindings that cut deep into his wrists were very real. Removed from his home after a night's rest, he would awaken in Hell.

They wore coats of white, matching the lights that swayed from the ceiling he had been forced to stare at for days on end. These were the men that had taken both he and his mother, made to follow their will. Contrasting from that pure white, they were made to live in a room of pure filth, stains of red and brown making up their quarters. It wasn't required to worry about resting on such a hard surface, the chains preventing him from being able to lay down his body and remove himself from the wall.

When not in the dark room where only bad things happened, they were strapped to tables, left to feel the sharp pain of a thousand needles and the scalpels cutting into flesh. He was never able to discern just what they had been doing to his motionless body, dazed eyes only being able to stare at the hovering light. Despite his lack of mobility, unable to even cry out, his nerves were fully functioning, smiles of a yellow hue seeming to speak to him, telling the secrets of how he was meant to feel only suffering and nothing else.

Pain, grief, and sorrow replaced happiness, confusion being the only remnant of his former life. He could not understand why they did such things to him, why they had taken him. He could not understand why the looked at him with such loathing and spat at him with venom. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? No, he did not have the strength to feel anger. Aside from the feelings of nearing utter despair, there was hope. He hoped that his beloved mother had not been subjected to such pain.

He became little more than a husk, face drained and eyes completely dead to the world. His sense of time had been taken, losing all connection. Had it been weeks, months, or years? It felt like centuries that he had been made to go under the knife and suffer through the jeers of people he did not know. He must have been quite a despicable person, being able to hear and feel such terrible things.

Out of all those that used him as a human puzzle, forcing pieces that did not connect to fit, there was one that outright despised him. The others seemed to find enjoyment in their acts of torture, but this one was different. He too found satisfaction, but those eyes held a fire of rage that would not be extinguished as long as he was alive. It was personal. If he had known what it was, he would have apologized. If he was capable of speaking, he would have apologized.

They had kept him from seeing his mother for so long. He wanted to meet her gaze, her to tell him that everything would be okay as she always did. He wanted the sweet scent to replace that of blood and filth. He desired it.

Competing for this desire, their was another. Before coming here and being tinkered with, he had never been affected by such an overpowering sensation, feeling as if it would tear him open at any second. He wanted it more than anything, possibly even more than to see his mother. He wanted to eat, to satisfy this hunger that had never once plagued him. To his horror and sickening delight, it would soon be sated.

They had brought her before him after such a long time. She looked upon him with relief, seeing that he had not yet perished, her own body having been tainted by bruises and lacerations. She was deathly pale, her rosy skin nowhere to be seen. Despite how utterly broken she appeared, her concern for the boy was greater than that for himself. She was unbelievably kind. If only he knew who she was.

When the chains had been released, body being left to fall from the floor, his brief lack of motion was observed from behind protective glass. However, he did not notice any of this, all of his rational thought gone and senses directed away from the audience. He had reached his breaking point.

He could not recognize her as his mother, only seeing flesh. The once sweet aroma she carried from her days of work in the fields of Eden no longer felt comforting, driving him insane. The scent was divine. It was the scent of a meal.

Giving into his newly formed instinct, he lashed out at his prey, sinking his teeth into the the damaged skin. Breaking and cracking filled his ears from animalistic gnawing, wanting to only consume. Nothing would stop him from meeting the requirement to feed.

She called out to him, gaining his full attention. He looked on in horror at what he had done, feeling tears make their way down his face, mixing with the crimson paint. It pained him beyond belief, seeing her in this state and at his hands. However, he did not stop. He was beyond the point of no return.

Even as the river continued to flow from his eyes, he satisfied his hunger, unable to cease his actions. He was consuming her to fill his own stomach, the act twisted beyond belief. However, her expression was not of betrayal, sadness, or regret. She was glad, her son being able to survive, providing for him one last time. Her final word had been the trigger for the final gulp down the boy's throat. "Eat".

As those behind the protective barrier watched, some held faces of shock and others of disgust, having just witnessed the act. However, the one man that had always stood out from the others had utter satisfaction, merging with a mad expression of anger. Ghouls were monsters that had no morals. They were willing to do anything, right? He wanted to confirm that. They were even willing to do this to their own family.

While the one behind the glass was pleased, the one on the other side was mortified. The person he had relied on and loved more than anything was now gone. His only relative no longer existed, killed at his hand. With this realization, there came a mix of every emotion he had never felt in the comfort of his previous life. With his realization, the world shattered.

Everything he was and had ever been vanished, leaving nothing but a young man to suffer through the breaking of his own mind. As he screamed, the strange liquid muscles protruding from his lower back, the glass would be used to represent his mental state. The only thing separating the two forces had been broken.

In an instant, many lives had ended, this creature mumbling nonsense as he continued to rip flesh with his teeth. The tendrils moved erratically, no planned motions being used to carry out the executions. It was the mayhem of a bloodstained rage.

Finally, there was the man who had started it all, staring at the destroyed being ram his own skull into the reinforced walls, foundations beginning to break. He would not have to worry about being crushed, as he would soon be impaled trough the chest, leaving the white coat to turn red. From the very beginning, this had been expected.

Before everything went black, the two would lock eyes. With a face that showed disgust, but contained unparalleled sadness, he would give his parting words to the one that was no longer Human. "Monster".

With bodies laying a path to the promise of escape, Zōka stood still, the roof crumbling along with the organ that glowed in a mixture of violent crimson and ebony. In that moment, it seemed as if the petals of roses were being scattered around him, the flower wilting along with his own self. How could he leave?

These recent events were inconceivable. He couldn't believe that he had done such things. He wanted with every fiber of his damaged being to deny what happened and pass it off as a cruel fantasy. His shattered mind made it so.

Picking up the glass and rearranging, the cracks warped the reflection, changing his entire life in an instant. He did not do these things. He did not devour his mother. He was not a monster. These events did not happen. He couldn't be alone.

Shioreta Zōka grew up without a father and was raised by a single mother that made a living as a florist. They lived a happy life together and were content with only each other. Unfortunately, Zōka's mother would die in a car accident during his late teens, leaving him alone and without anyone to look after him.

He would focus on school, working part time at the flower shop his mother once did, following in her footsteps. While money was an issue, he would thankfully enroll into his first choice of university on a scholarship. Uncertain of the future, he looks to greener pastures.

Shioreta Zōka loved his mother dearly.

AllHailDago · Feb 8, 2015

WIP

NAME - Tony L. Kalex

Nickname -

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Height: 6' 1"

Weight: 184 lbs.

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Blood Type: AB+

Other Info:
Written Description: Stemming from his intensely overzealous exercise regiment, he is more fit than anyone would originally assume from his appearance. Fit enough to knock a ghoul off their feet with a punch in fact. On top of being fit, Tony has a serious clean streak. The only time someone sees him dirty is immediately after a workout or in the midst of a tough battle. His clothes, hair, skin, nails; you name it and he keeps it clean.

He keeps his hair neatly cut and his lines trimmed precisely. The only somewhat disorderly part about him is his minor amount of facial hair, manifesting in a mildly uneven five o clock shadow. No one really knows why he allows this in fact, and he has yet to give a straight answer to those who have asked. He has thick, slightly curved black eyebrows and incredibly short eyelashes. He has crows feet and smile lines that are far more defined than anyone might expect on a man his age.

He dresses impeccably in a suit when he must for the CCG meetings and such. But outside of a that he finds such clothing stupidly restricting for combat, or pursuit of ghouls. As such he prefers to wear acceptably fitting t shirts and a variety of bottoms, from jeans to track pants to basketball shorts. Yet even when he does wear a suit like the other investigators, he tends to wear outlandishly colored ones. His favorites are a bright sky blue, a emerald green, a royal purple, and a crimson colored one. He somehow gets away with this. He thinks it's because his higher ups like his style, but it's probably just cause he gets results.

General Personality:

Likes

- (Excessive) Excercise

- (Medium Rare) Meat

-

-

Dislikes

-

-

-

-

Skills

-

-

-

-

Bio:

Lucem · Feb 9, 2015

Daishi Masanori

Age

20

Gender

Male

Height

6'2"

Weight

185 lbs

Dominant Hand

Ambidextrous

Blood Type

AB+

Other Info

Despite how healthy Masanori keeps his body, he has a bad habit of smoking.
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Resulting from extensive physical training, Masanori's body is rather muscular, possessing a toned physique. The build complements his large stature, standing at over six feet in height. The majority of his form is concealed by his attire, lacking the bulkier appearance that comes along with his strength.

His usual clothing consists of a white dress shirt that is covered by a black vest, its size small enough to reach below the collar and the ends of his shoulders. His upper wear also includes a matching black jacket, accented by gold trimmings and buttons. Aside from the pants that remain consistent with the professional garners, a leather belt is kept around his waist.

Matching the pattern of black and gold, Masanori's eyes and hair reflect the coloring. The ebony locks extend down his neck, reaching below his ears and ending near the start of the jaw. The pointed bangs are long enough to cover his eyes, but they are kept aside in order to prevent his vision from being obscured.

Likes

-Training

-Spring

-Art

-Children

General Personality

As an Investigator, Masanori is very dedicated to his work. Whenever possible, he immerses himself into a case and puts forth all of his effort into solving it. It is not often that you will find him in a state of relaxation, making use of his time and spending it elsewhere on duty. This activity is a result of his hate for remaining still.

Masanori hates not being able to do anything and cannot stand resting. He finds the act a waste and nothing but an example of laziness. His mind races as his body is filled with impatience, wanting nothing but to set out and continue his work. Being forced to simply sit back and watch can drive him crazy.

This dislike of inactivity also spreads out to others, as he hates slackers. Those that avoid their responsibilities and engage in activities without much value are viewed as liabilities. Whenever he sees someone that dawdles, he does not hesitate to correct this behavior and chew them out. There is much more that needs to be done in the world they live in, and people that shirk their responsibilities should clean up their act or give up on their line of work permanently.

Masanori's work ethic has given him a good reputation amongst many of his peers, but he does not care about their opinions. If anything, he hates their praise and wishes that it would end. He does not push himself as an investigator for them and does not need recognition. This connects with his attitude towards the CCG.

While he may be dedicated, Masanori loathes the organization he works for. He has no sense of loyalty and hates being affiliated with them in any way. Individual members may not entirely feel the same resentment, but he dislikes the CCG to a large degree. It is for this reason that he works without the aid of a partner.

Masanori is a lone wolf, preferring to work alone in his operations. He does not need another person to watch his back and carries out his investigations in his own way. While others insist that he work with a partner for his own benefit, it is hard to dissuade him. Unless it is an official order by the CCG itself, he will continue to refrain from joining a group of any sort.

Along with working alone, his hate of the CCG has caused him to act out in multiple areas. If an order is not given or specified, Masanori will go against what the organization has set as boundaries. As much as upper ranks hate this side of him, it is difficult to do anything beyond simply reprimanding the young man. He works by finding loopholes in the guidelines, allowing him to work on his own terms without earning punishment. If it is possible, he will always disobey, refusing to comply as much as he can.

While he is quite troublesome, it is hard to deny Masanori's strength. As an investigator, he is highly skilled, earning his current rank without any objection. He is superior to many within the CCG, growing with each passing day. In regards to this strength, it reaches him on a personal level.

Masanori, hates the feeling of being weak. Similar to how he dislikes sitting back, he cannot handle not being strong enough to accomplish something. It is a deep personal issue, willing to push his body beyond his limits for the sake of becoming stronger. The feeling of inadequacy fills him with anger, even willing to lash out at those that display weakness, as it is a great annoyance. This is the only time where his usual persona can break, throwing aside his normal calm surface.

Ordinarily, Masanori is composed, refraining from showing much expression beyond a minor scowl. His level head is worthy of note, not even faltering in even the toughest of battles where the loss of life is very likely. Unless a particular individual or situation strikes a cord within him, he is generally calm.

This side of him even extends to interacting with others. While he prefers to work alone, he does not actively attempt to separate himself from people. He does not attempt to converse with others either, but he will not find them unpleasant unless his ire is warranted. This extends to his fellow investigators, as it is the CCG itself that he dislikes. Regardless, he is often found alone, as it is simply how things end up.

Aside from his dislike of people who slack off, Masanori also has a dislike of liars. While he is willing to bend the truth when regarding the CCG, the first class investigator hates those that lie to him. This is mostly due to his past dealings with betrayal, creating an emotional scar that leaves him unable to tolerate traitors.

In addition, he also has many problems with criminals that cause harm to others. People that are willing inflict pain on their loved ones and innocents for their own benefit are trash, deserving the strictest of punishments. Amongst all of them, he has a personal grudge against those that harm children. With experiences at a young age, others that remind him of his past self hold a soft spot in his heart, being a great weakness depending on the situation.

All these traits of his personality can be attributed to one event. In this event, he grew to hate a particular group, the sentiment being shared amongst many. With all of his heart, the young investigator hates ghouls.

Masanori despises Ghouls. This is the foundation for many of his personality traits. It is shaped him into what he is today and it is unlikely that it will ever be changed.

The hate he holds for the creatures that hunt in the night is unparalleled, viewing them as monsters that have no morals. They are beings that will do whatever it takes to get their fill of flesh, finding their very nature despicable. His sole purpose is to exterminate all Ghouls, leaving none of them alive in this world.

It does not matter who they are, his sheer rage and disgust giving him the power to kill any without qualms. When fighting, he is found to be very cold, not hesitating to strike the final blow. They are not men, women, or children, but filthy, heinous Ghouls.

His sheer hate has given him inhuman will, pushing his body far beyond its limits. He refuses to be put down and will do anything to come out on top. For the sake of killing every last Ghoul, no consequence or risk is too great. He is willing to accept everything with the exception of death. Until they are extinct, he will not die.

Dislikes

-Ghouls

-CCG

-Laziness

-Inactivity

-Gamblers

-Liars

-Sweets

-Thunderstorms

-Weakness

Skills

Masanori is a very skilled investigator, possessing both a cunning mind and strong body. In a fight, he is able to stand against many Ghouls, despite being a mere Human. It is for this reason that he is seen as a valuable asset to the CCG.

Beyond combat, Masanori is a surprisingly talented painter. While he may have put down his brush in favor of hunting Ghouls, his creations are quite beautiful. They contradict his seemingly tough and imposing image.

Bio

Would you believe that he was lucky? His life riddled with misfortune, it was unlikely that any sort of good would come out of the boy's existence. For this reason, it is tragically ironic that the greatest horror came about through the greatest blessing.

In the vast land of Japan, there are many that struggle in life. These struggles are often born out of a person's poor decisions or an unforeseen event that would create mayhem. For Daishi Masanori, his life had been damaged since the day he was born.

In areas of Tokyo that one could consider worn down, there was a man and woman that had traveled a path of self-destruction. Consumed by sins of greed and lust, their activities produced nothing but harm, even spreading to those around them. One of those affected was a young boy that had the misfortune of being their child.

A father that gave more love to the bottle than his family, the man was a pathetic alcoholic. Days were either spent in a bar or within the broken house that was nothing more than shambles. His activities consisted of belligerent yelling that came along with the drinks, engaging in the daily arguments with the woman he had previously taken as his bride. In these heated battles, the neutral party was left to feel the painful aftermath.

The beatings were the longest times he spent with his father, the length depending on the amount of alcohol in his stomach and blood in his head. Refraining from physical harm against the second adult, Masanori took the pain of two. As a punching bag, he was at least somewhat useful.

The mother's desires were no better, her activities the main contributor to the poor state of their household. Despite how they lacked it, she loved money. Whenever any sort of income would make its way into her grubby little hands, she would pour it down the drain. Gambling had become an addiction, throwing away what hadn't already been used for the other resident's addiction. She had no other to blame but her own self, but the small boy was the perfect fit for a scapegoat.

Caught in a swirl of abuse, Masanori could only curse his own circumstances. He held no love for his parents, born out of the lack be shown towards him. It would have been nice to feel a comforting hand from them, but theirs brought only stings and their words carried venom.

The only joy he found in anything was the presence of his mother's sister, having distanced herself from the relative as best she could. However, the child was the only thing that kept her coming back, reaching out a helping hand. The only source of comfort, Masanori accepted.

His aunt was very kind to him, something he had not been used to. She took up the parental role that had been left vacant, taking it upon herself to express the positivity that the boy had been lacking. In those times, he was the happiest. He was always grateful to her and what she did for him, but it was never as much as she could have given under better circumstances. Unfortunately, she was plagued by disease.

The woman had difficulty walking and talked in short bursts, needing to breathe before falling into a fit of coughs. She mostly clung to her bed, unable to move away the blankets despite her wishes. However, Masanori was always there at the very edge of that bed.

Her medical expenses were great, but her careful savings had managed to support her for a time. In a way, money was what kept her alive, paying for the expensive treatments and equipment. It always seemed to come down to money. Wherever it was, there were also those that set out to take it.

Addictions taking equal shares, drink and games of chance wasting away all they had, the debts grew larger. As much as they would have liked to immerse themselves in the newfound income, those that provided it had little patience with those that ran up what they owed. For everything borrowed, more would be needed to be given in return.

Interest was troubling for them. If they had enough moment to pay back those that sought to collect, they wouldn't have had to take loans in the first place. They needed a source to keep their harmful habits. Where could they find such a generous benefactor? What about the dear sister?

They had taken notice of how she meddled with Masanori whenever she managed to distance herself from the mattress and that allowed them to take advantage of the kindness in any way they wished. They so humbly asked for the woman to help them in their time of need, wanting only generosity. There would be no hard feelings if this would be an impossibility. However, if her nephew happened to be damaged in the near future, that would be a different matter.

Unless she provided money, his undeserved punishment would be increased, body hurt more than it already had been. His aunt did not want such a thing and thus payed without hesitation. If any authorities happened to become involved, the threat would only be worse. For every donation, a wound would disappear.

Shifting from a pit of no emotion that had turned to anger, the anger would become a growing rage. The deal was perhaps the worse that had ever come out of his parents, their end never being held up, hurt regardless. He tried to dissuade his aunt, but she wouldn't have it. She cared too much to risk anything.

With funds decreasing with each day, they continued to take more, leaving the poor sister without sufficient resources to afford treatment. This did not sit well with Masanori, his hate growing with each day. He couldn't bear to see the one person that cared for him fall.

The source of her condition being concern for him, Masanori felt guilty. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have to endure the pain. However, it wouldn't stop at guilt alone. Above all else, he felt weak.

He couldn't do anything to stop what was happening and he hated every second of it. As a child, his only options were to sit back and allow things to continue as they were. From this, a desire was born alongside the feelings of hate.

Whenever he could slip from the gaze of the addicts, he would spend these moments caring for his aunt. He was responsible for this predicament and would do whatever he could to make it right. He was determined to fix what had been broken.

It had started with working around her house, cleaning the accumulated dust and changing the dirtied sheets. He would do his best to cook meals, despite the lack of materials and skill. She would appreciate these attempts and provide him with smiles as best she could. However, this was not enough. Those smiles betrayed the pain and he would not rest until he could do more.

As he had come to understand, the world revolved around money. That would be the way to afford the expenses and bring an end to the extortion. It was the only true way to make everything right.

He would spend every waking moment trying to obtain some form of work, no matter what it was. Despite this determination, nobody was willing to provide a single opportunity. This had nothing to do with the lack of availability, but himself.

As a child, he had nothing to offer. His body was weak and damaged, having no skills whatsoever. He was useless in every sense of the word, not a single shred of value. It was a terrible feeling, being turned away at every moment.

The taking grew worse, as did his aunt's condition. He was desperate, willing to do anything to stop this ongoing deterioration. He would soon have his wish, everything coming to an end.

With their human bank running low, the debts continued to accumulate, leaving no options. The people his parents owed were shady, always able to detect even the slightest scent of blood on the fine suits they wore. Things did not look promising, their lives at risk of being taken as collateral. That was the least of their worries, the threat of losing their addictions unimaginable. It was when they had remembered the loss of life that an idea came to mind.

It was hard to believe from an outside point of view, but not to anyone that knew the family. They had offered up their child in exchange to wipe away what they owed. When such an exchange had been deemed acceptable, it was truly great for them. It was not for Masanori.

When he had learned of it, nothing was shocking. However, he was still taken aback when those suits appeared at his doorstep, coming to take him away and force him into an unknown servitude. At that time, feral grins stood out the most. They did not belong to the recipients, but the providers. He had never seen such satisfaction on the faces of his mother and father.

Finally, the waste of space had proven useful. If they had thought of it earlier, it would have been the very first decision. When these thoughts were voiced aloud and the hands reached for his small arms, it all hit him at once. Filled with anger, sadness, and feelings of betrayal, he fled.

It was night when his legs finally gave out. He could not run any longer, left to rest in an unknown alley in an unknown ward. As he thought on the recent events, he momentarily forgot his fear. He forgot his fear of the creatures that went bump in the night.

When the shining scales caught his widened gaze, it took all he had to keep from screaming. He tried to escape, but his legs had been weakened by the other pursuers. He didn't have the energy to run for his life. In the end, did it really even matter?

He was ready to accept everything, but the feelings of guilt for the person he'd be leaving behind reawakened the fear. He was scared to die. He was scared to be eaten. In response to those feelings, a savior descended from the moonlit sky.

The grip placed over his mouth had startled him, but it began to wane when he realized his skin was not being removed from his bones. As the hand left his mouth, all he could see was the general shape of a person, index finger pressed to his lips in an attempt to quiet the boy. When all seemed clear, the second strongest memory of Masanori's life began.

He cut himself, allowing blood to run down his arm. For a Ghoul, that only gained their attention and was no different than suicide. Dashing away, the red trail would follow, making its way through several angles and turns. When the crimson drops ceased falling, an unexpected chain of events were set into motion.

Following the trail was not one Ghoul, but two. With a meal on both their minds, competition was not appreciated. In response, an inhuman battle commenced, shining features clashing and spilling blood in the darkness. Neither was willing to give an inch, driven by pure hunger.

When Masanori was finally given the command to leave the shelter of shadows after the sounds had stopped, neither Ghoul was moving. As he marveled, the man responsible for the fight reappeared, gaining the attention of the young boy. He would always remember the shine of the moon that reflected in the hair of indigo.

After Hanya saved his life, the two began to spend a great deal of time together. Masanori had been reluctant at first, as recent events had given him little reason to trust others. However, the older man proved persistent.

With Masanori living as little more than a street rat during the times he was not by his aunt's side, he often found himself in troublesome situations. Hanya would notice this and come to the boy's aid on multiple occasions. It became clear that he would not be stopping, so he reluctantly gave in.

During the time they spent together, Hanya became a mentor to Masanori. With his disadvantaged background, his new companion would teach him the skills he lacked, such as the ability to read and write. Out of all these lessons, the one he took to the most would be the one that involved the brush and canvas.

The boy was captivated by the beautiful images that the man created. They made him feel at peace, watching the tranquil mixtures of blue and white as they were added to the blank space. Noticing the audience of one, Hanya would allow the child to create his own works, the damaged hands learning the foreign harmony and bringing about lovely illustrations.

At one point in time, Hanya had said something that confused Masanori, succeeding in catching him off guard. Despite the misfortune that had plagued his life thus far, the purple-haired man called him lucky. The word had angered him at first, but the following explanation replaced the feelings with even more confusion.

Hanya spoke of his personality, the kindness that the boy had retained throughout his hardships. Anyone else would have succumbed to the darkness and merged into a life of utter despair. He hadn't let that darkness consume him. That was why he was one of the lucky ones, strong and kind enough to persevere as the light in the darkness.

He would never forget the green that has been set into his collar, looking at its four leaves. This clover was given to him in order to remind him of that luck, to keep that darkness away. It was the happiest he had ever been.

Hanya was more than a mentor. He was a father to Masanori, holding a place in his heart that only his aunt had managed to obtain. He was always grateful for the day he met his father.

When he walked through the door of his aunt's home, overjoyed to bring her news of a possible job that could support her, happiness would fall into disbelief. He continued to stare for what his mind thought to be decades, unable to recognize what was being seen. After all, he simply could not believe that his aunt was currently being eaten by the man he thought of as a father.

His legs grew weak, unable to move a single muscle, the crunching making itself known in his head. He tried to push it out, not wanting it to be real. But it was. It was a tragic truth that he had to face.

When the stained mouth was revealed by the turn of Hanya, he could only scream in rage and despair, forcing himself to run at the one he had come to cherish as family. That family would force him to the ground, sending him crashing into the nearby wall with great force. His vision would begin to blur, only tears obscuring the man as he returned to his meal.

Mixing with sadness in a similar manner to the deep shade of red and faint blue hues on the canvas he had come to love, the greatest anger he had ever experienced surfaced. Had it all been a lie? The times they spent together, were they just deception? These thoughts and the sounds of the current feast angered him, but it was not the overwhelming anger that conquered him. He hated himself more than anything.

He had always been weak. He had been too weak to stop the actions of his parents. He had been so weak that he needed another's care. He had been too weak to provide anything for the aunt that was currently losing her life. He had been too weak to prevent them from bleeding her dry. He was too weak to stop this man. He had always been weak.

When the door was kicked open and several suited men arrived with strange cases in hand, his vision began to fade. The last thing that would come into view was the face of the one he had seen as a father. He would always wonder what kind of expression he had at that time, looking to him before he would run away. Did it matter? He was just another Ghoul.

When he awoke, it would not be until it was over. However, when he did open his eyes, it would not be as a Human. No, he was now something much different.

Without his consent, these people from the Commission of Counter Ghoul had tampered with his body, implanting some filthy organ surrounded by steel. When he observed the adjacent mirror by the operating table, he could hardly believe it when the previously white sclera was now gray, the singular red iris reflecting in the one of gold. He was a product of the new experiment used to put Humans on par with Ghouls.

When they informed him that the operation had been approved by his parents, his feelings toward the reveal was mixed, but mostly of indifference. He didn't believe them, but it was also not unlike the two that he once knew to do such a thing. It had been a long time since they met, but it made perfect sense. Regardless of whether it was true or not, it meant only that his life was worth nothing more than a few dollar signs and he was only useful as a test subject.

As much as he hated the CCG for what they made him into, it paled in comparison to the one that was aimed at the man who had betrayed him. He would give into that rage, using it to fill him with new determination. He would not rest until every last filthy Ghoul was dead. He would become strong enough to kill the Ghoul that had escaped capture on that day. He would kill the SS-Rated Ghoul known as "Rorschach".

Masanori threw himself into strengthening his body once he had been safely released from the hospital, undergoing training as the new Quinx member of the CCG. He would need strength that would allow him to defeat any Ghoul that came his way, living long enough to kill Rorschach. However, he would not do it with that thing they had given him.

Despite the training he received for its use, being a Quinx disgusted Masanori. It made him like one of the creatures that ate Humans and he refused to use anything that would put him on their level. If he would fight, he would do so as a Human.

To say that Masanori was successful was an understatement. He became a powerful investigator, quickly earning secondary rank. In battle, he never used the Koukaku he had been given, relying on his own strength and any Quinque he could get his hands on.

His nature was rebellious, but he never outright defied the CCG, doing whatever that wasn't specifically prohibited. This included working alone, rather than cooperate with fellow investigators. Although his feelings toward the organization was clear, he was a splendid member.

The defining moment of his career was when he managed to defeat the S-Rated Ghoul "Slasher" without assistance. Several of his Quinque had been destroyed and he was heavily injured when backup arrived, but he remained standing until he was forcibly placed on the stretcher.. If he had used his Quinx abilities, he might have escaped in better condition, but he stuck to his convictions and refused to use the abilities of a Ghoul.

In the aftermath of his battle, Masanori was presented with the White Wing award for the defeat of an S-Rated Ghoul and promoted to a First Class investigator. When he finally awoke from a brief week of rest and recovery, his first action was the request of a stronger Quinque, as the several smaller ones he used had all been broken. With his recent accomplishment, along with the reminder that he had been made into a Quinx against his will, the Laboratory Division was happy to accommodate.

When he had completely recovered from the battle with Slasher, the results of the manufacturing were complete, his new Quinque created to suit his fighting style. Upon seeing the weapon, a sense of nostalgia filled him, the shape triggering tightly chained memories. As he held it in his hands, he knew that it would be what he needed to succeed in his path of vengeance. To represent this, he gave this new Quinque a name.

"Clover"

Jays · Feb 9, 2015

Dean Karanae

Yolo

Age: 27 || Gender: Male|| Height: 6'2 || Weight: 183 lbs || Dominant Hand: Left || Blood Type: O-

Long Live the queen
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Written Description:

Blue eyes

Bronze hair

Clean shaven
Partner: Deceased, awaiting new assignment.

Occupation: Inspector

Quinque:

Ankarae [bikaku type] - Shaped as a bastard sword, 3.5 feet long, extremely sharp and strong.
- Able retract to one-fourth its original length then springs outward to create an incredibly powerful thrust that punches through almost any objects. Can also be used in the same way to create powerful force blasts from up to 30 feet, the further the distance the less accurate and weaker the blast.
- Able to separate into two thinner blades which can be reassembled into a two-blade sword.
Ankarate [Koukaku type] Shaped like an arm brace.
- Expand into a small strong shield.
- Grow spikes.
- Grow sharp spikes about 1.5 feet on the forward edge for use on offense.
- Looks cool.
Rank: Special

Ward: N/A
Likes:
- Hot Chocolate
- Watching wrestling and commenting how it's the most elegant way of insufficiently beating another person.
- Watching anime and commenting on how if he had these fictional powers he could have concluded the plot before the commercial break of the first episode.
- Watching new recruits failing at their exercises and nostalgicly recalling the time when he played dirty, beat his trainer and had to clean the whole headquarter complex 2 weeks straight.
- Pie.
- Couples breaking up.
- Girls' smiles.
- Making inappropriate jokes at inappropriate time.
- Banana peels because they smell nice.
- Songs that end with one person dying.
- Songs about stalkers.
- Stalking old high school crush's social network.
- Sleep in during meeting days.
- Killing ghouls.
- Sharpening his quinque and ignoring people telling him that it doesn't need sharpening.
- Writing trivial things.
- Doing his job as best he could.
General Personality: Life is a box of chocolate, you never know what you gonna get, unless it's written on the box. When it does you know it's a trap.

Dislikes:
- Hugging other people.
- Torturing.
- Untidiness.
- Action movies where the hero walk away from explosions.
- Walking away from explosions. (Tried and failed to make it cool)
- Dating at expensive restaurents.
- Meeting girlfriends' parents.
- Annoying laughs.
Skills:
- Sword and shield fighting.
- Duel-wield fighting.
- Parkour (duh).
- Tracking fugitive ghouls.
- Investigating.
- Leading.
- Dean is a failed first generation experiment of the Quinx project. He has Akarie, an ukaku quinque fused into his body but it's unstable, often unresponsive and can slowly infect his body with unreasonable urges for human meat.
Bio: Born normal, Dean found at at 11 that his step father was a ghoul who killed his birth father over his mother.

Life took its course and out came a bright new star of the ghoul academy, ready to clean the world of these monster, starting with the man who raised him.

MockingXbird · Feb 17, 2015

Thing is going weird so I have to wait for another post in order to put Nia's ,second OCs, CS down. Could someone post please? Like...A letter or something?

Hiro Inuhoozuki

Kitsune

-:Age:-

20

-:Gender:-

Male

-:Height:-

5'8

-:Weight:-

150

-ominant Hand:-

Born Left-handed. When he first became an investigator he trained himself to be ambidexterity.

-:Blood Type:-

B+

-ther Info:-

Former investigator, Twin
-:Written Description:-

The boy obviously~

Hiro has a more athletic build to his body, built for speed rather than strength. He has medium length black hair that falls messily in his eyes. Unlike the picture, he is Heterochromia, he has different colored eyes. His left eye is a piercing bright blue and the right is a deep dark brown. Hiro's skin is a lighter color than his sisters.

He doesn't have a set wardrobe. Usually it's whatever he feel like for the day but he's always wearing some sort of hooded jacket. It may be long sleeved, cut short beneath the ribcage, draping to his knees, no sleeves, so on. The colors vary from white, red, or black. His shirts are mainly short sleeve or no sleeve, mainly white or black. Pants are always dark blue or black. Hiro wears tennis shoes, always black. Wears a black belt.

-:Likes:-
- Coffee. Thank god he can still drink coffee. It's bad enough he can't eat sweets anymore.
- His sisters company. They are like Besties.
- Reading, he likes his books
- Video Games. Loves those too.
- Instruments, like violins and such.
- Quiet. Who doesn't?
- Sleep
-:General Personality:-

Hiro is the calmer, quiet twin. Though he has his own personality, he and Nia are also very much alike.

Around his sister he is relaxed, happy. He enjoys spending time with her because she is the one person in the world he knows he can truly trust. He listens to her rant on about certain things then talks when she insists him to. He hates her teasing but deals with it due to knowing that complaining about it won’t help a bit.

Around a very close friend there is this sense of freedom that washes over him that not even Nia can bring forth. He tends to smile more, laugh more, and relax more. If you are truly a best friend to him he is almost like another person. More energetic.

Around strangers there is a sense of suspicion that he holds, something that will not go away until he knows you more. He respects others and is a very kind, calm person but in his mind he will be anticipating any move you might make despite if you actually do it or not.

Hiro is a closed in kind of guy. It is extremely hard to get to know him or be close in any way. His trust is little, his suspicions high. He always thinks before he acts and is a fast thinker. Coming up with plans is not a high point but in dire situations he can figure out a way to get out. Like an adrenaline rush for thinking.

Hiro is protective of his sister as she is with him. She helps him get through tough times, he helps keep her focus and think. Unlike his sister however with certain situations, like a fight, he tends to be an bit merciless. If a fight is clearly over he will stop though. If the person still tries to attack however he will kill them if needed to. However this happens little because currently he isn’t exactly the strongest.

While he can hold his own like his sister both will obviously struggle with higher ranks or stand no chance.

Currently he is a bit emotionally unstable. This is because of his current ghoul situation. He has a bit internal struggle, which is natural for one eyed ghouls really. Unlike some though, he is taking the situation a bit better. It’s almost easier with him to really grasp that there is nothing he can do about this. He can sit there and moan, cry, whine, but in reality he has to learn to control this. Deal with it. Gain with it. Protect those who need to be. Even if he knows that is what has to be done…still…still he struggles. The hunger, the unconfidence, sense of unsureness. Being a ghoul. It’s hard to wrap your head around.

-islikes:-
- Freaking.Clowns.
- Ghouls. They are growing on him though, the good ones.
- Candy, now that he can't eat it he can't stand seeing it. It hurts too much
- Irritating people
- Dubstep, he doesn't consider it music.
- His sister teasing him.
-:Skills:-
- Speed- Like his sister, Hiro is fast.
- Marksman- A skill required for his Quinque. His father taught him when he was younger. Since his father passed away, he continued honing the skill.
- Music- He is musically gifted. He can play almost any instrument he touches, given time to get used to
  it.

Prizzy Kriyze · Feb 18, 2015

Kurai, still need to add all the things.

Mockingbird, looks good, feel free to submit your second thing.

MockingXbird · Feb 18, 2015

Nia Inuhoozuki

Black Hummingbird

~:Age:~

20

~:Gender:~

Female

~:Height:~

5'6

~:Weight:~

125

~ominant Hand:~

Right

~:Blood Type:~

B+

~ther Info :~

She's a twin
~:Written Description:~

The girl obviously ~

Like Hiro, she has a slimmer body meant for speed however looks can be deceiving. She is actually physically stronger than her twin brother. Underneath that frail look she has hidden muscle. Nia has long black, messy black hair with side bangs that fall into her eyes.

She also has Heterochromia. Her right eye is a deep dark blue and her right eye is a bright brown. Her skin has a light tan to it.

Nia's wardrobe is what is scene in the pic near constantly, at least doing investigator stuff. The outfit she wears in the picture is extremely comfortable to her. Some say it would burden her, especially in fighting but she is actually better at fighting in this dress.

Her everyday outfits are...colorful. Always a skirt, leggings, a long sleeve shirt, and medium to long boots. They vary in colors.

~:Likes:~
- Teasing Hiro
- Coffee
- Sour food
- Listening to Hiro play the violin/piano
- Painting
- Doing things
- Tea
~:General Personality:~

Nia will be more of a colorful person. She varies in emotions depending on whom she’s with and where she is.

With her brother she will be more teasing, goofy, a bundle of energy. Always pushing him forward and always trying to cheer him up despite if she fails or not.

With close friends she is a bit calmer, a little less goofy, cusses here and there.

Around other people she doesn’t know she will be more shy and quiet.

Overall she is generally an open minded individual. She is all ears and all talk. However she does tend to speak her mind despite the offense it may bring. She also tends to act before she thinks.

Nia hates it when people automatically judge others, even if ghouls are the ones being judged. She believes that there are always three sides to every story. There is person A’s side, Person B’s side, and the truth.

With ghouls she doesn’t like them but doesn’t hate them. She believes that everyone acts how they grew up and what they have experienced in life. That means this concept doesn’t just go to ghouls but literally everyone.

She does have a case of ADD where she gets bored extremely easily which leads to her gazing off into space or doodling. Nia also has OCD with certain things, like how something should be organized, plate set up, so on.

She is kind but if you push her the wrong way she will be unpleasant. She can get irritated very easily too. If a situation call for it she can become serious in the matter of seconds. On top of that she has great confidence which is a major downfall at times. That confidence lead to her brother’s situation.

~islikes:~
- Stupid people
- Being made fun of
- Boredom, who does?
- Spicy food
- Ghouls, not all
- Rude people
- Messing stuff up
- When people touch her stuff
~:Skills:~
- Speed- Like Hiro she is exceptionally fast. A bit faster than her brother.
- Strength- Nia is very strong, skilled in close combat.
- Dancing. This comes in play with her fighting, for when she fights she looks like she's gracefully dancing. Which in some ways she is.
-:Bio of Nia and Hiro:-

The twins grew up in a nice house, with normal parents, normal living style. Their lives were pretty much perfect in the beginning. Yes there were the threats of ghouls however growing up the way they did, they never felt threatened by such things. Their father worked at a coffee shop, mother was an investigator and they attended school. They spent most of their free time within the coffee shop, they are pretty well known by any regular customer or long lasting employee.

Their mother raised them by listing the evil in the world while their father talked about the goods. Hiro took his mother’s views, Nia took upon their father’s more however both took the other in consideration.

Nia was set on helping with the coffee shop with their father while Hiro really didn’t have a set motivation in life. The two use to often compete with each other with certain things though, school being one of that. Grades, tests, homework, it was something they use to do for fun while their parents were out. Hiro only had a few friends so he never really hung out a lot….well he wouldn’t have hung out a lot if it weren’t for Nia. Whenever Nia went out, he went out mainly by force. You could say throughout their younger lives Nia was his motivation in things. Dragged Hiro into a lot of different things. Overall their lives were good. That was until certain events unfolded.

The twins were walking home after dinner with their closest friends Reina, and Shima. The group was having a nice time when they happened to notice a girl sitting in an alley, rocking and chanting to herself. Hiro urged them to leave when they happened to notice this person looked very familiar. The girl was Mika, another close friend of theirs that was told to be sick the past four days.

Shima carelessly approached her and asked where she had been, assuming everything was fine, oblivious. Reina went with him and Nia would have approached if Hiro hadn’t of held her back. That’s when they both saw it. Mika lifted her head with black ghoul eyes gleaming hungrily.

What happened next happened quickly. Happened so unexpectedly. Before the twins could react Mika was EATING Shima with Reina dangling lifelessly from a kagune. That was their first time ever encountering a ghoul, a true ghoul. Hiro had grabbed Nia before she could do anything and ran, ran home, ran away from the danger. That began their, mainly Hiro’s, hate ghouls and Hiro’s trust issues.

The next morning their mother came into their room. She had told them that Mika was taken care of and it was too late for the other two. Naturally Nia began blaming herself, Hiro did too but he covered up saying there was nothing they could have done. Their mother agreed then comforted them. After a talk she was the one who convinced the two to become investigators to prevent anything like that happening again.

Eventually once they finished high school the two focused on becoming investigators. They still have competitions however Hiro didn’t need his sister to motivate him for something anymore, well for the most part. Their mother trained them, leaving their father constantly worried.

Eventually they worked their way to becoming stronger and better investigators. However seeing how new they were, the twins were obviously not even close to being as good as their mother and others.

All went to hell once again in a very short amount of time, so soon after they joined. Their mother disappeared while doing a job leaving the house an empty shell. Their father became distant, continuing his job but there is something missing in him. The next couple of days Nia and Hiro were on a case. They encountered what was thought to be their targeted ghoul but actually they stumbled upon an S rank ghoul.

Hiro wanted to go get reinforcements however Nia’s overconfidence got the best of her. Claiming they couldn’t run anymore, she attacked leaving Hiro no choice but to follow his sister. The battle, as you could imagine, didn’t last too long. They held their ground for the most part, Hiro distracting the ghoul with his pistols while Nia snuck in blow after blow. That worked for a minute before the ghoul figured them out and attacked Nia, ignoring Hiro. In a panic Hiro ran forward to meet the S rank head on. The ghoul, who had knocked Nia unconscious, slashed Hiro across the chest.

The only thing Hiro remembered was pain, the feeling of something eating him, the yells of investigators, then it went dark.

When Hiro woke up he was inside a hospital. There was a platter of cookies his sister had left for him but strangely, rather than consume then in an instant, he felt disgusted by the sight and smell. He was hungry but nothing seemed good. Everything seemed…bad. When his doctor came in with the nurse, Hiro was hit with this delicious smell. Still a bit out of it he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Asking the doctor what was wrong the doctor only smiled and assured him everything was ok.

The doctor released him the next day, saying Hiro had been out for almost a month and giving the wounds he received time to heal enough. Hiro returned home with his sister…but not without problems. He was HUNGRY. Not yet starving but it was annoying. Persistent. Nia was telling him all that he missed when he noticed how nice she smelled…how nice it would be to sink his teeth in her. Meat.

For someone who is unfamiliar with ghouls it would take them longer to understand the situation. At that time even he had problems wrapping his head around this strange hunger for meat but there was a gut feeling…something yelling at him what was wrong. As they were turning the corner Hiro had to stop himself. The hunger…he was so hungry. But not for food. No no. At that moment his heart sank, he didn’t believe it at first. Hell he thought it was some crazed, side effect but he had to know. Nia turned around to see him not following. When she rounded to corner to see where he went she saw him staring at his hand. Staring at the small bite wound that was healing. The wound that healed.

Hiro never returned to the investigators for obvious reasons. To those who know them, Hiro’s injuries were too sever to let him return to the field. To his father it was time for him to live on his own, Nia coming with him. Hiro objected at first but there was no shaking Nia when she made a decision. The two got an apartment.

Hiro is away from their apartment for hours, trying to keep himself from his ghoulish urges. Living with his sister was hard but Nia insists that it will help him control the urge. As much as Hiro tried to deny it, he needed to eat. Both knew that. Both knew what a hungered ghoul would do. Hiro tried so hard to prevent it but it soon came to the point that he NEEDED to eat. Hiro was gone for a day, returning to the apartment with blood on him and a look of despair. “What have I done?”

Ever since that incident Nia has helped Hiro keep his cool. Though he pushed her away at first eventually she got to him. She told him that there was nothing he could do, this was what he was now. Either he accept it, or die. She helped him focus his hunger towards those deserving to die. Hiro was against that, he argued that he almost sounded like a cheesy vampire for only going after bad people. She then suggested other ghouls, or both, or simply kill people when needed to. Though he did not like the idea at all he decided to try to feed only when necessary and try to keep it to a select few. If it gets out of hand where he kills an unintended individual then that simply happened.

Cheesy Vampire is now a teasing nickname.

Overall Hiro still struggles with his ghoul side, naturally, and Nia has been promoted to 2nd rank investigator. During that time Hiro has joined the ghoul organization known as Clear Moon. He has taken a liking to them, helping him get use to his…condition.

Daimao · Feb 19, 2015

Vladimir Avelsheim

Phantom

Age 29

Gender Male

Height 6' 11

Weight 190

Dominant Hand Right

Blood Type O

Other Info
<a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/img-thing.jpg.a078ec4b62477a575de9d42df55c85f7.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="42993" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_02/img-thing.jpg.a078ec4b62477a575de9d42df55c85f7.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a>

Written Description Vladimir is tall, with pitch black hair and pale skin. His eyes are bright blue. He exercises rigorously, resulting in well defined muscles.

Likes

Efficiency

Killing

Dogs

Sushi

Children

General Personality Vladimir doesn't like to talk. He views excess talking as a waste of time. Many view him as cold or rude due to his lack of talking. He's not going to deny it.

Dislikes

Stupidity

Talking

Doves

Wasting time

Skills

Stealth

Evasion

Hand to hand combat

Flexibility

Bio At the age of 17, Vladimir got into a fight with his parents, and ended up killing both of them. From that moment on, he survived on his own, drifting from job to job, until he finally landed a permanent job as a martial arts instructor. He doesn't tell anyone about his life before when he killed his parents. At some point along the line, he joined up with Toni's Bastards.

Prizzy Kriyze · Feb 19, 2015

@Daimao Add a little bit to his personality and you're golden.

Wifi and Worms · Mar 2, 2015

Noriko Minami

Age

20

Gender

Female

Height

5'7

Weight

166

Dominant Hand

Ambidextrous

Blood Type

A-
Written Description

Solidly built, Noriko trounces quite a few people in terms of strength. Her frame is rectangular, with broad shoulders compared to most women, and toned limbs. She often gives off a formidable air, at least until she speaks.

A spray of faint freckles cover the bridge of her nose, and Noriko's jawline is slender. Dishevelled, and shoulder length when loose, Noriko's hair normally is tied up, with overgrown, raggedly cut bangs hanging in her eyes and a few chin length tendrils framing her face. It's of a dark brown color. Noriko's eyes are of a hazel color, that seem to change with the lighting.

Normally clothed in loose black jeans, a dark blue jacket with a cowl neck, and what ever shirt suits her fancy, her clothes are often wrinkled and creased, as if she slept in them. Which she often does.

Likes

Books, earnest conversation, bad jokes and cats.

General Personality

Noriko appears to be an amiable young woman, albeit a bit quiet. Kind and well-mannered, she often reads to the kids who visit the bookshop at which she's employed. Around people she's not familiar with, she often trips up over her words, especially so if it's someone she would like to become friends with.

When she's on a hunt however, she seems a completely different person. Animalistic, and wild, she seems to greatly enjoy the chase, in particular the spray of blood produced when a major artery is hit. After eating, she's detached, vividly recalling every action of hers and regretting every single one. She'll often tell herself that she'll stop, start surviving on suicide victims like some ghouls do. But her self resolve is weak, and she never follows through. She can be hasty in her decisions, and trusts far too easily.

Dislikes

People who break promises, humid weather, and rude behavior.

Skills

She has a knack for remembering names, numbers, and dates. Also, she's strangely talented at arm wrestling.

Bio

She was raised by her mother, who was a member of Clear Moon. Noriko doesn't know who her father is, and doesn't have much desire to find out. Her mother, who had always eaten only the bare minimum, died about a year ago, when in her weakened state, was unable to defend herself from a cannibalistic ghoul, and therefore was killed. After her mother's death, Noriko left Clear Moon and joined Toni's Bastards.

Her mother raised Noriko by her own moral code, making Noriko eat only when neccessary, and often punishing her when ever she used her kagune, or ever asked, or brought up the concept of, eating more. It was drilled into her head that humans were to be treated with respect, and those who devoured them simply for pleasure were little better than scum.

Prizzy Kriyze · Mar 2, 2015

@Wifi and Worms

Looks awesome! Accepted

IG42 · Mar 3, 2015

GHOUL CHARACTER SHEET

Jigo Tegaki

Black Knight

Age 21

Gender Male

Height 6'7

Weight 179

Dominant Hand Left

Blood Type A+

Other Info
Written Description Extremely skinny and pale skinned. Has very messy hair and often has trouble keeping it out of his eyes.

Likes Reading, video games, eating.

General Personality Quiet and rather nervous he speaks politely in public he becomes very chatty around friends if still awkward but doesn't speak much about himself and enjoys listening to others conversations. Has a tendency to assume the best of people making him a little gullible.

Enjoys hunting and fighting in a way he barely admits to himself degenerating into almost incoherent speech and giggling while trying to be kill quickly and discriminate his targets. Dancing on the edge of gluttony he eats at least once each month and will consume any body he finds whether human or ghoul, he specifically leaves his mouth free from his mask so he can bite while fighting.

Dislikes Boredom, hunger, ignorance and loud/high pitched noises.

Skills Computer skills, defending and countering

Bio Born and raised until the age of 18 in Nagasaki Jigo moved to Tokyo when the CCG began searching the smaller city successfully exterminating the vast majority of the ghoul population there along with Jigo's mother and elder brother.

Upon arriving in Tokyo he spent several months hunting and stealing from the bodies until he grew frustrated from hiding and having nothing to do during daytime led him to try living within human society.

Now three years after moving to Tokyo with almost no friendly interaction with another ghoul loneliness is driving him toward joining with a group of ghouls.

Prizzy Kriyze · Mar 4, 2015

@IG42 You know what? I can't see anything actually wrong with this character sheet. It's a bit short and not very detailed, but it has all the necessary information. You are accepted. I hope you don't mind that I edited your sheet to add the picture instead of the link to the picture in your appearance. If you do I will of course revert what I did.

I was a bit skeptic to the double arm kagune, but multiple kakuhou aren't unheard of.

IG42 · Mar 4, 2015

Woops thanks for catching that image this is what happens when you don't preview people! So is it just go ahead and post or what?

Prizzy Kriyze · Mar 4, 2015

Sure, but I think @Nalzrad wanted to talk to you in the OOC

Nalzrad · Mar 4, 2015

Hey. So a little bird told me that your character is looking for a gang to join. Clear Moon needs more ghouls. Read over the description of Clear Moon and tell me if you think you character would fit in Clear Moon!

:3

@IG42

(Semi-Detailed) Tokyo Ghoul

Multiple Stab Wounds

cause & effect , parallel

had a Nostalgia Trip

Multiple Stab Wounds

European Link

Mermaid of the Forums

Attachments

Ten Thousand Club

Attachments

Rough Tough Creampuff

Ten Thousand Club

Attachments

That Loitering God

Attachments

Princess of the Night

Multiple Stab Wounds

Princess of the Night

Jumping out of perfectly good planes

Attachments

Multiple Stab Wounds

A loser in dark clothing

Multiple Stab Wounds

Paranoid Android

Multiple Stab Wounds

Paranoid Android

Multiple Stab Wounds

European Link

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