Oculorum de quod Artifex

Chapter 2:
Oculorum de quod Artifex
.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Amaterasu ☼

The tip of her brush gently caressed the cotton of her canvas. The fine bristles softly stroked the thick fabric with a vibrant pure white and periwinkle blue. Dabbled lines blended the two colors in perfect harmony to match the sky and a variety of wispy clouds. The presented results were uncanny; her ability to capture what was in front of her was ultimately brilliant. She was lost within a melodic trance, headphones fitted upon her head while she quietly sang along with a catchy jingle. While fluently using the paintbrush with such skillful manipulation, she glanced to her left for a small second. And then suddenly, she froze while doing a double take…

There she saw him; A young man rested against a bench while his face was met with an open book nestled in his hands. His ivory hair that matched his fair and pale complexion swayed within the breeze. His one exposed eye matched a silver dollar; almost glistening like ore in the sunlight. Oddly enough, his other eye was hidden by a white cotton patch. Nonetheless, all of these features were enough to capture the eyes of an artist. These features were enough to cease her in depth concentration and even lose all interest at the magnificent painting she had spent a few hours on. He resembled a majestic ivory wolf that was blissfully enduring in his natural habitat. He was graceful and at ease… she was simply captivated by him. 

[♀]

After acquiring her sketchbook from a leather satchel, she crouched low to the ground while discreetly recording every contour that was made up of him. Her pencil glided across the clean paper as she delineated his features so very exquisitely. Though the movement of her hand was swift, the outcome was proficient as ever. And then suddenly a gust of wind pushed itself into the loose papers that were burrowed within the pages of her book. She rose from the ground and in a quirk like frenzy, she threw her arms into the air to capture the soaring sheets. Unfortunately, she managed to trip over her own two feet and collide into her easel. After descending to the ground, her pallet was caught in the midst of her clumsy mishap and landed upon the crown of her head. Of course, this caught the attention of the young man who was looking right at her while a colorful array was trickling down the rose colored strands of her hair. She instantly paused when she saw his eyes peering right at her.

A subtle red tinge began to fade upon her complexion while her heart raced. The pupils within her blue irises dilated from his calm gaze. And she gasped when she noticed one of the papers fluttering into his leg. He looked down, retrieved it, and held it up to observe. A small smile formed across his lips before he rose and began to approach her.

"Oh dear, which sketch could he possibly be holding in his hand? What if it’s the one I drew of him! Oh great, now this guy will just think I'm a total weirdo."

All of these thoughts churning in her head while she was paralyzed. And although motionless she wanted to jump out of her own skin from sheer embarrassment.

After walking up to her, he kneeled down and handed her the sketch.

"Hey, this is pretty good. But you should be more careful next time." He simply spoke.

And while she was given the privilege to observe him up close, her eyes were flickering with astonishment. He appeared to be so very gentle, yet there was something about him that revealed a shade of darkness lingering above his head. It was so enigmatic, but nonetheless it was what made him truly fascinating.

And then she glanced within his only exposed eye…

Vision's began to flash before her mind's eye: She saw a boy with black hair proceeding within a demented series of tragedies that drastically transformed him. There he was, sitting on a chair sobbing while surrounded by a desolate room that was as vast as the desert. He slowly cried out for someone but when he spoke there was no sound to be heard. There was only the sound of his destitution portrayed by a stern sense of abandonment…

She looked away… The Oculus of Melpomene, was certainly a curse indeed. It was a hardship she had always had to carry for as long as she could remember. To clarify, this girl was able to look into the eyes of another and witness their grievous memories that cause her to take on the pain they themselves carry. However, as long as she doesn't peer into the eyes of another, she is free from tormented visions.

But oh how she felt the dark shade above him… In fact she could feel it above her as well. His spirit was riddled with so much guilt, and suffering. How could such a beautiful creature endure such horrible feelings?

She reached out for the sketch in his hand, but instead her hand gently grasped his wrist and he was caught off guard by her tender gesture. And then oddly enough, he felt like some sort of compassion was portrayed from her. Almost like that one small sign of affection was a subtle way of comforting him. And though he remained numb, there was a minor sense of warmth that inspired relief. But wait… Why? Why was she doing this? They were complete strangers to each other. He looked down feeling completely awkward, his pale cheeks even faintly blushing. And then she let go, and took the sketch from his hands. Smiling warmly at him, she bowed her head.

"Thank you kind stranger." She spoke in her docile voice.

Wow… she was incredibly appeasing to look at. Even with paint congealed on to her blush pink hair, her eyes were like the galaxy Andromeda… Swirling with a series of shimmering stars only caught deep within a majestic blue sea. He looked away with that awkward feeling again, his tinted cheeks deepening with a red hue.

"Actually," he began while rubbing the back of his neck. "My name is Kaneki."

"Oh, yes… My apologies Kaneki." Her cheerful eyes lit up with her smile. "My name is Amaterasu… But most just call me Ama for short."
  

[☼]

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Kaneki ♀
 

Amaterasu... Just like the heavenly goddess of the sun. Such a suitable name for a girl bearing moderate and comforting warmth. It was like sitting near a kindled fire that eased the bitter cold night. The soothing heat waves wrapping their arms around the chilled skin of one's body… There was nothing more comparable.

"Ama..." His eyes were shimmering while they were fixated upon her lovely face. And for a split second, he felt like his past self again. The naïve boy with a heart that could be melted to easily by a pretty face. However, she seemed so easy to love… Her very presence made that obvious. She was someone he knew he could trust, just by being right next to her. It was refreshing to feel this. He had never been able to trust anyone for a long time. But Within the dark foreboding cloud that was his life, he never dreamed that he would meet someone portrayed so heavenly. He felt comforting radiance eluding from her kindhearted spirit... She was unlike anything he had ever encountered.

"Ama, it's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise... Kaneki."

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

The thick clouds stacked themselves together within the sky. A golden tinge combined with a soft purple against a pink blush indicated the hour of twilight had commenced. Kaneki and Omega watched the sun resting upon the horizon while the two of them casually spoke to one another.

"Amaterasu huh? Like the Japanese sun Goddess? She seems real nice."

Kaneki's platinum hair whisked within the subtle breeze swaying into his cheeks.

"She's the nicest person I've ever met. And I can say that confidently without even really knowing who she is. Something about her presence, just made me feel like I could easily trust her." His elbow rested against his propped up knee while he envisioned her delicate features and graceful smile.

"Oh come on, I'm sure it's because of the pretty face wasn’t it?" Omega smiled at him playfully.

"What? No… that has nothing to do with it. I mean.. She was extremely beautiful." Kaneki confessed with subtly flushed cheeks.

"Well of course. All guys are suckers for a pretty face. Anyways, I'm sure she's far from the walking nightmare sitting next to you." Omega leaned back against the grass, her body rested against her sloped elbows. She tilted her head back as her flowing locks shook from the wind. Like always, she looked majestic through her natural appearance.

Kaneki looked down at her with a subdued smile. He knew she was indicating herself through her own cynical comment. But he couldn't help but disagree with her entirely. With utmost sincerity, Omega was someone who was always pleasant to be around. Within the four years he had known her, he had always felt that she and him were alike in many ways. Because just like her, there was a different side to him as well he had little to no control over. Though such a heavy burden to bear, it was something he had kept secret from Omega.

Ghouls; monsters that were truly the outsiders of the world. This was how he was depicted… A misunderstood outcast that wandered the ordinary world by himself. Having a ravenous appetite that only a belligerent beast could apprehend. And even though he tried to endure within normality, even though he tried to surround himself by people as to never feel alone… he felt more alone than he had ever felt before. Behind his faded smile was a cloak of despair… when he wasn't his human self he was nothing more than a monstrous, self-loathing creature that hungered for flesh. And this was how Kaneki portrayed himself…

"Don't give yourself all the credit here… " Kaneki responded. "The one who is truly a walking nightmare is me…"

As the light faded into darkness, Kaneki began to realize his appetite was becoming parched. Tonight was the night to hunt… 

  

[♀]

"The true monsters are the ones with the worst intentions."

-Mnemosyne

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Dionysus's Aftermath

Chapter 1:
Dionysus's Aftermath
.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Omega Ω

 

She scuffled within her bed sheets as her heavy eye's slowly began to peak open. The sun streaks emerging from her window completely bleached her vision. She shut her eye's in an instant from its radiance. The tremendous pain in her head palpitated like a throbbing pulse. The taste of alcohol still lingering on her pallet. She could feel her feet encased within a pair of heavy boots. She looked down at her legs and noticed that she was still dressed in her Demonia 7" platforms. The thick boots peeked out from the periwinkle blankets that swathed her; numerous straps and intricate buckles fastened upon its black leather. She winced slightly looking down at her knuckles. Swollen, bruised, parched blood spatter painted against her skin. She sighed at the tremendous hang over overwhelming all her sense of feeling…

Eunice obviously had a field day last night… However it had always been clear that she could handle a hangover better than Omega.

That crazy bitch.

After spending 30 minutes conjuring up motivation and strength to drag herself out of bed, the 27 minute shower did very little to subdue the hang over. But after spending 3-5 minutes brushing her teeth, she was at least able to get rid of the smell of booze that clung to her lips. Of course she drank about 7 glasses of water to ease the dehydration… After that, she immediately threw herself on to the couch, face first into the down pillows.

Just the mere sound of her clock ticking was amplified by 10 for some reason. Her pulsing headache matching the rhythm of the second hands mark. There was a sudden rattling of her front door knob, and in walked a vivacious golden haired woman. She was holding a paper tray carrier with two coffee's nestled within its secure gaps.

First word out of her mouth when she saw Omega: "Eunice."

"Really Beatrice? Is it really that obvious? Maybe I've just started menstruating or something, you know?" Omega responded with a muffled voice after sighing into the pillows.

Beatrice scoffed at her reply. "Please, do you really think I'd be that clueless? I've known you long enough to realize when you're hung over. Plus, you're only hung over when Eunice comes out."

"Okay, fine. So I blacked out and Eunice enjoyed a night to herself; Whatever that consists of. Bar brawling, heavy drinking, possibly roofied… Jesus Christ this headache…"  Omega placed her finger tips gently against her temple while cringing from the agony.

"I find that hard to believe. Anyone who may try to get away with drugging Eunice will pretty much have to suffer an apocalyptic ass beating. Woman can truly hold her liquor and sustain her composure… She's tenacious as hell too… You know, for a little person. And I won't lie those boots are cool as hell."

Omega rested her weak head against the couch; A heavy sigh escaped from her lips... Her vibrant green eyes were like two pools of anguish, and worry. All of that sank deep to the bottom for she made it an effort not to reveal such a thing. However, every once in a while it was noticeable. Especially from Beatrice... the girl who had been her friend for 10 years now. One could honestly remark that Omega was a resilient woman. Insusceptible yet vulnerable, there were contradicting elements within her that resulted in a perfect yet flawed human being. But her dissociative identity disorder lessened her auxiliary barrier. At any moment, and it didn't matter where or when, she would simply vanish and Eunice would take over. There was always the question if she was going to awake as herself the next day? Or knowing Eunice, was she even going to come back home alive?

Beatrice decided it was now time to change the subject, no more talk about D.I.D. or Eunice. She reached down and handed Omega a cup of coffee.

"Here, it's your favorite blend." Beatrice provided Omega with a graceful smile to risen her spirits. Omega was obliged, taking the coffee from her but secretly leaving out the fact that she had desired to substitute coffee for a cup of hot tea…

Why? She had no idea. But on this day, she woke up and had a strong fancy for tea. Black tea to be specific…

[Ω]

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Eunice ℧

The night before:

It was well past six o'clock in the morning… Such a blessing that the cafe across the street was open at such an early hour. The heavy influence of booze was beginning to falter. The boots that sheathed her legs and feet weren't the easiest to walk in. However, lucky for this one, her drink was easy to carry. Her cheeks were flushed from the liquor well within her body; flowing almost like blood coursing through her veins. The skin upon her small knuckles were frayed; a combination of her blood and someone else's splattered upon her hand. It had been the end of long night that had finally caught up to a new day. However, its ending was far from the pleasantries that took place earlier.

Though intoxicated by the devils brew, she was able to walk into the cafe maintaining her correspondence. The chair's and tables remained barren among the burgundy and white color scheme. But one table was occupied by a petite man, contented with a steamer of his favorite tea.
  

[♄]
 

There he was; lounged in his typical posture. Legs crossed while his slender fingers held a cup by its outer rim. He brought the lip of the porcelain to his mouth and sipped quietly. His eyelids tranquilly resting while the steam of his hot tea drifted against his fair complexion. He seemed especially approachable at this very moment. However, regardless of that or not, Eunice had originally planned to share a table without his consent.

Such is the way of this one; a free spirited lynx.

She neared towards him, settling herself at his table. He knew she was there, her large energy could be felt the moment she entered through the door. However, he didn't make an effort to pay her any attention. Typically, he would have been irritated at the fact that her discordant presence hindered his solitude. But, this wasn't her first time tampering with his visit here… In fact, she was here more often than he was. And for some reason, he had supposed, that she found him to be her first choice when it came to disrupting one's peace and quiet.

How annoying…

Nonetheless, though independent and unrestrained she had seemed, she had enough couth to request her own refreshment. (Surprisingly Enough.) It was good to know that she at least knew the kettle centered on the table was not an invite. 

"I'll have a shot of Patron if you don't mind." A request that chimed from her sultry voice.

Really? Tequila in a cafe? At six in the morning? Another one of those nights was it? His quiet sigh was depicted from a very minor peeve. A rambunctious drunk inquiring liquor at this hour?

How, annoying...

The waiter cocked his head with a creased brow. "Ma'am.. We do not sell liquor here. You know that."

Unusually, she didn't jeer or belittle the waiter. Her attitude was particularly sour most of the times. But, she looked down at the tea kettle on the table and shrugged minimally.

"I'll have what he's having then."

"Can you not just share the pot?" The waiter suggested.

Eunice narrowed her eye's at the gentlemen who was still at peace with his mild disposition. As stated before, she certainly wasn't sitting across the table from this man for the first time. She realized the tea kettle that was upon this table was his own. Along with the cup in his hand. It was more than understood he had a vexation of unknown hands touching his things. 

"I don't think he would take too kindly to that idea. Besides he might think that there's a deadly disease riddled all over my fingers…"

He opened his eyes to view her face after her sarcastic remark. His irises flashed with aggravation, but of course she wasn't wrong…

"Very well." The waiter walked off to prepare another pot of tea. "Black tea coming right up."

A smirked crossed her lips as her back rested upon her chair. "Black tea huh? Easy there killer… you're making me tremble. Let me guess, does it warm the darkness to your soul?" She asked in such a childlike manner.

He placed his white demitasse down before him; the porcelain sparkled from its spotless condition. He was normally aggressive towards her occasional mockery, but he realized that Eunice was, to put it plainly, a saucy little brat. This was just the way she was.

Again, so very annoying…

"Boy, you sure do know how to ruin a man's peace and quiet."

She giggled at his comment. "I won't deny that I'm a little rambunctious. But you have the whole day to yourself killer... A few moments of conversation won't kill you."

"If by conversation you mean drunken ranting... Then forgive me but I'd rather have my tongue nailed to the table."

Suddenly, something caught his eye… Something that was off color. Eunice was peering over at him with tenderness in her eyes. Her expression was far from her usual countenance; it was gentle. "Luckily for you, I am feeling a bit content and functional. I am genuinely here to distribute a nice quiet talk…"

How very strange. It was obvious she was drunk. And usually when she was drunk she was obnoxious and very annoying. But she was unusually calm and collected at this very moment. And then he used his keen eye to observe her. Even more oddly enough, there were signs of distress upon her form. Her red plaid skirt was slightly ripped from her thighs; the black lace woven at its hem was pulled from the seams. There were buttons missing from her intricate blouse, appearing as if someone had attempted to rip it off. Her fishnet stockings were tattered, and her knuckles were bruised and gashed from a fight…

It was obvious something happened to her. And most likely, this was the reason why she appeared somewhat delicate. It was actually refreshing compared to her typical unruly demeanor. In fact she was quite appealing to look at… when she wasn't being such a brat.

On the contrary, however there was something that could be respected about Eunice. Though he may have not known her very well, it was more than apparent that she was capable of defending her own. She could sustain her own self for the sake of well-being. She was independent, and strong. On the other hand, he felt contradicted. Her decisions were sometimes reckless, and even though she may have been tough as nails, she was extremely naive within her actions. Because of this, he didn't feel obligated to feel sorry or concerned for her.

His response was apathetic.

"I'm unfortunately not feeling all that talkative right now Eunice."

"That's okay..." She began. "I suppose 'just talking' is too much to ask for a tough guy like you. Huh killer?"

Yet again, another unexpected response revealed from her. Unfamiliar of course, but he sipped his tea with no reply. His eye were discreetly kept upon her, because deep down he was slightly interested at what will happen next. This uncommon attitude of hers was slightly welcoming... At least he could sit down and share a drink with a level headed woman; just this once anyways. 

Not long after, the waiter came out with a cup and kettle for her. She poured the opaque liquid and took a sip. The taste of it was slightly bland but the tea had been brewed long enough to catch the flavor upon her pallet. To her surprise, it was comforting as a flow of warmth traveled down her esophagus and settled into her stomach..

"Hm... Pretty good I guess."

She chugged the rest of her cup, her cheeks becoming flushed from the warm beverage. Releasing a calm sigh, she opened her eyes to look at the man across from her.

"So, killer... Gotta real name?"

He set his cup down and leaned back against his chair.

"It's Levi." He simply introduced.

"Levi huh.." Eunice shrugged. "Hm, okay then."

[℧]

"Sometimes, the body has a will of its own."

- Mnemosyne

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .