d33tached | maskormenace

I will.

Thank you.

[Heropa is a bit of a hike from Nonah, and D33 lives about forty-five minutes out of the city regardless. He manages to grab a ride from Kaneki, something he wouldn't have asked for had the situation not been urgent, but he's as eager to get to Abigail as she is to have him there.

[As much as D33 prides himself on his own capabilities, these murders have been leaving him just as uneasy as they have anyone - tonight, for once, it's not his own survival that he's concerned about.

[He shows up to Abigail's house a good hour and a half to two hours later, knocking lightly on the door, shifting anxiously on the porch until she answers.]

[Abigail is waiting by the door, ready for both D33 or a stranger wanting to cut her throat open. The image of the woman feels like it's been burned into her brain where it's become mixed with memories of her mother's death and her own.

She know it's D33 from the scent, even before he knocks. She attaches her knife to a holder on her belt, then yanks the door open and flings her arms around him, hugging him tightly and crying into his shoulder.]

[D33 jumps at the sudden contact, always coiled and ready to spring, but at least he doesn't react by trying to snap Abigail's neck where he might have three months ago. The embrace, though, he's not entirely sure how to handle - the tears even more so. He stands there for a moment, stiff and clearly uncomfortable, making absolutely no move to put his own arms around her, but. Well. At least he isn't shoving her away yet. Instead, he simply clears his throat and mutters:]

Let us keep inside, then, Abigail.

[Abigail holds onto the hug for a moment longer. His presence is enough to give her some comfort and she pulls back slowly with a nod.]

Yeah, inside.

[She leads the way into the house, trusting him to close and lock the door behind him. It's common sense for those who understand the dangers that are always around. She makes her way into the living room, sitting on the couch and patting the space next to her for him to join her.]

[D33 does, of course, lock the door behind him before following Abigail into the living room. He hesitates for a moment before joining her on the couch, looking a bit stiff where he sits - he's really hoping that she doesn't try to hug him again or start crying (more than she already is, anyway). He's never known how to deal with such things, even after spending nearly twenty years with K31. Comfort just isn't D33's forte - never has been, and probably never will be.]

So, then. Have you any information on this murder aside from what's been broadcast on the network?

The last was in Nonah. Do we know of a location this time around?

[Abigail shakes her head. There had been other people replying to the call. Words spoken in anger, disgust, but none of them had registered with her. She had been so focused on the sight of that woman, especially the neck wound to notice any other details, let alone remember them. Hannibal would be disappointed at her failure to pay attention to the 'art.' But it wasn't him. He wasn't there and she's safe, she keeps telling herself.]

No. I mean, I don't know. I'm not sure if anyone knows where it was. Where she was.

[D33 might remind Abigail of Hannibal in some instances, but he certainly sees no "art" in the image of that woman being dismembered on the network - not that such imags necessarily made his stomach turn the way it had Abigail's, but it is hard to stomach how sinister the entire thing seems. It's nothing like the professional, calculated crimes he committed.

[Nothing like most of them, anyway.]

Keep inside tonight, then.

This doesn't concern you.

[He tries to sound a bit dismissive, but he realizes that it's a lame attempt at comfort - who knew if this would end up concerning her or not? He hasn't yet been able to look into any connections between the first two victims. They were both women, as far as he could tell.

[So maybe that would make Abigail a target as well.

[If he thinks it, he wouldn't say it out loud. She'll be able to protect herself should it come down to it, he tells himself.]

I'll stay for the night if that's what you would like.

You don't know that. I bring out something bad in people. Look at what I did to my dad.

[She still blames herself for all of his victims.]

And even if it isn't me personally, we don't know why he picks his victims.

[It had taken her long enough to figure out Hannibal.]

I could look at this guy the wrong way and..

[She lets her voice trail off. She's supposed to making herself feel safe. That's why she called him.]

But she didn't really look like me. So that's good, right?.

[She rests her head on his shoulder for a moment and nods at his offer.]

Yes. I'd like that. Would you be okay staying in my room with me?

She'll offer one of the empty bedrooms if she has to. She'd prefer to have him closer.]

[D33's body stiffens at the feeling of Abigail's head on his shoulder, but he makes no move to ward her off. Only clears his throat again and nods. It's a little strange that he would consider staying in Abigail's room with her - that he'd consider staying with her at all, in fact, but. He doesn't waste time trying to question it. He'd agreed to assist her during their conversation at the Café, so. Here he is, true to his word.

[Perhaps he should have brought a book or something, though.]

I suppose that would be alright. [There's a pause, and then he's staring down at her - her head on his shoulder.]

Your father. What did you mean by that? What you did to him?

[She'd mentioned him before, sure. But something about what she's said just now doesn't sit right with him. What she had done to him? In the past, given what little information he had on the matter, it had seemed quite the opposite to him - something her father had done to her, not the other way around.]

Thank you.

[She isn't ready to move just yet. She's comfortable there with him close. She moves her hand, brushing her fingers over his hand, not quite holding it.]

I was born.

[She speaks quietly and sadly.]

Something about me, loving me, made him lose his mind. He wanted to eat me. Literally. He thought it would make me a part of him forever. But he didn't want me to be dead either. So he killed girls that looked like me. Just like me.

[She'd met them all in her role of her lure. Girls who were practically her mirror image. She'd chatted them up, learned where they lived, when they'd be alone.]

There must be something really wrong with me to make my own father want to do that.

Edited 2017-10-24 00:51 (UTC)

[The man's brow furrows a bit, his eyes narrow, and he clears his throat, sitting up a bit straighter and shaking his head.]

It would seem to me, Abigail, that if there was something "wrong" with anyone given your situation, it would be your father.

[And that's just judging by his own situation. D33 is well aware that there are plenty of things that are "wrong" with him now, but all of that damage came from one man and one man alone - and that man was nothing less than a monster.

[Wanting to eat someone? Sounds like a monster to D33. It makes him wonder also...If her father had been twisted enough to make that desire clear, what other desires had he had?

[What other desires had he acted on?

[It occurs to him yet again that he and Abigail might be a great deal more similar than he'd expected upon meeting her.]

[Abigail moves her head off his shoulder when he straightens up, thinking she's said too much. Not many people can handle knowing they're with the daughter of a cannibal, especially when she let others die in her place. And then he speaks. He's not blaming her. She places her head back on his shoulder.]

That's what someone else told me. That there was plenty wrong with my father, but there was nothing wrong with me.

[She takes his hand, holding it this time]

When I asked Hannibal about that whole nature versus nurture thing, he said I didn't have to be my father's daughter anymore. That I don't have to be ashamed. But I still wonder sometimes, about what my dad would have been if I hadn't existed. I wonder if my mom would still be alive and all those other girls too. And Nicholas Boyle. And Beverly Katz.

[D33 stiffens again - Abigail certainly is feeling touchy tonight. Though, given her fear, he supposes he can at least try to understand...He wouldn't do half as much for anyone else (Kaneki, perhaps, which, by the way, should be proof enough that he doesn't really have a huge problem with cannibals - he's dating one). K31, too, had craved physical contact when she was in need of comfort. Clearly, this was a female thing. D33 doesn't understand it - he finds it quite irritating and uncomfortable, in fact, but he doesn't say so and he doesn't move away, even from their intertwined hands.]

There is little use in wondering, Abigail. [He sounds firm as he speaks, almost as if he's scolding her, but his voice is soft - more like he's teaching her, or at least trying to.] You are your father's daughter. That's a simple fact, is it not?

Be that as it may, he isn't with you any longer. What's been done has been done, it doesn't matter how much you might wish that it were different.

[It's a cold perspective, sure - rather hopeless, as well, but D33 comes from a place where spending your time daydreaming and regretting only got you killed. He's accepted what he's done - he tells himself that he has, anyway.

[He isn't there anymore. And R01 isn't here. Neither is Abigail's father.

[Even so, D33 of all people can understand how hard it is to let go of such things - the influence of R01, the influence of her father, the influence of Hannibal. He understands that more than he can possibly express, more than he'd ever be willing to. In that way, even as he sits there, offering Abigail this advice, it falls dead to his own ears.

[But Abigail isn't D33. Abigail is human. There's something left in Abigail that might be salvageable - at least, that's what D33 thinks. So, after a short moment of silence, perhaps a sigh, he puts his eyes forward to the opposite wall and says, for Abigail and Abigail alone:]

It's time to move on.

It's a fact that I was his daughter. That what happened...happened. And it sucks. I want to create something different, to try to make my own family to be a part of someday. Not a traditional, nuclear family.

[She doesn't think she'll ever have a romantic relationship or want kids. A part of her worries she'd treat them like her father did her and her mother. As if there's a hidden, suppressed sickness in her that a family would bring out.]

I want to form real connections with people. Friendships with people I can trust. That kind of family.

[She sits quietly for a moment.]

My dad's always with me. When I wake up in the morning, I hear him whispering to me and it's like I carry him around all day until it's night and he's in my dreams. I try not to let him get to me. Hannibal tried so hard to help me move on.

[Hannibal even dug up her father's corpse so she could confront him. D33 is much more gentle than that. She squeezes his hand lightly, a small gesture of appreciation.]

I know you're trying to help too. Today's been a bad day though. That woman, her throat was cut like my dad did to me and my mom.

[It isn't exactly the same. Her father had done it quickly, trying to spare them pain instead of cause it. The result was the same for her mother. The image is hard to shake.]

The nightmares are going to be bad tonight. It'll help having you there. So you have to know that even if I wake up screaming, it's better than what would happen if I was alone.

[On her own, she'd panic. She'd see threats in the dark corners of her room and perhaps even run outside in the middle of the night. But it won't go that far with him there.]

[Without quite noticing himself doing it, D33 sucks in a breath, his own ears buzzing with a familiar voice. He hears them too, Abigail - not of his father, but of the only man he could possibly compare to her own. He understands more than he can or would ever say, and to that, he squeezes her hand back.]

I will stay through the night then, if that's what you would like, Abigail.

[He just hopes that he won't be the one waking up screaming.]

Thank you. You're a good friend.

[She wants to do something for him too.]

We don't have to go to bed on empty stomachs. I'll make something for you. And you can sous chef if you'd like. What's your favourite food?

[Now, that's something D33 has never heard before. A "friend", yes - and that had been strange enough - but not a "good" friend.

[At the second question, he raises a brow. Twinkies would probably be the answer, but he's fairly certain you can't just cook one of those up in your house (it wouldn't be the same).]

I find a great many types of food from this world to be pleasing.

Did you have anything particular in mind?

How about breakfast for dinner?

[It's the first thing she thinks of. Even with its connection to her father and Hannibal, it's her comfort food.]

[Breakfast for dinner? D33 doesn't entirely understand what she means by that, but he nods all the same.]

Very well, then. That should suffice.

I'm hoping for more than sufficient.

[Abigail lets go of his hand slowly and stands.]

C'mon. The kitchen's this way.

[She walks into the kitchen.]

[D33 follows.]

Do you consider yourself rather skilled in the area of cooking?

I think I'm pretty good, yeah. I had Hannibal to teach me.

She opens the fridge to see what she has.]

And the powers they gave me help. I can chop food really well. And the enhanced sense of smell lets me get everything just right.

I suppose that would lend to the ability, yes.

[It's a little strange, the vague sense of bitterness he feels when she mentions Hannibal. It's a sensation that has been growing more frequent the more time he spends with her, and though he can, on some level, relate to her attachment to the man, that doesn't take away his distaste for him.]

[Abigail starts gathering what she needs, missing his bitterness]

Do you eat pork? I was thinking of making sausage patties. If Hannibal shows up, don't tell him I made patties instead of proper sausages. They're just as good to me, and I don't want to have to bother with the casings. I can use chicken if you don't like pork.

maskormenace | IC Contact

no subject

Text > Action

Re: Text > Action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject