Reckoning

[Guest]

A slit was formed from the meticulous incision caused by a bladed tip, as blood flowed from the mouth of a child. A girl. Stripped. But to such a cut, it wouldn't have caused such a thing. Her eyes were dull, she hadn't struggled or shown signs of pain. Merely twitching as anesthetics were a lacking. Surgical gloves were covered in the scarlet of blood. Organs were scooped out, fresh, as death was gripping her, and soon dragging her. A sigh, a last one, had escaped her lips, as what was inside her body, was taken out and placed into a cooling box for preservation.

"Such a waste." Muttered the man in white, mundane in expression, relaxed, "You're in a better place now, I suppose."

Two fingers swept across her eyelids from his empty hand, closing them down as her expression was to the doctor, peaceful. She was shot in a mugging in an alleyway, and he wouldn't let the organs go to waste. Plus it would catch a hefty price in the black markets for such organs, fresh too. He drifted apart from her, left her on the surgical table as he would complete his business for the day. Giving away the cooler box to a henchman as he would see himself out of the operating room. His operating room not in a hospital but some shanty.

Sheathing his scalpel with a cover before placing it into his pocket.

A labcoat was worn on his person as he left. Walking among crowds at the central square, masked with a surgeon's uniform, hands in pockets with a new pair of surgical gloves. Walking along as he sat down on a bench, pondering upon many things with that dull expression of his. Eyes looking to the side to find what would be a group of armed men firing at police officers, holding up behind their car at the streets.

There were more gunshots around. They didn't look like some military op, rather they fired like one would say... from the ghettos. Perhaps a group of anarchists? Or rebels aiming to restore the "true heirs" of the previous crown? It wouldn't help that they were doing this in the capital where the Royal Guards were, a foolish thing from a foolish group of people.

The Doctor helped himself up as he took out his G17 pistol, holding it with both hands from the grip, aiming behind the group of armed anarchists, rather at the largest one out there at his back. Come to think of it, they might even be a rival group to the Men in White. This makes them an enemy of convenience after all...

[Guest]

Veil sat in the shadows of a broken down building in the west corner, music floated out of a busted door as a lone teen sat on barrel his eyes filmed over as he played on a black silver flute. The tune floated out into the alleyway of a soft sad tune, Veil had been in a store when a little girl had been shot and he had decided to compose a song for a short life cut off so soon.

Gunshots sounded outside not far from where he was, Dark eyes turned to the door as the flute moved from his lips, Black boots hit the ground as a squeak sounded from the barrel as a body shifted. Clothes ruffled as a figure about six feet tall stepped out of the doorway and looked towards the sounds. A handsome face turned making black and white hair on a young face stuck spiked back with bangs laying over his face.

Veil stepped out into the sunlight revealing a seventeen year old wearing a grey kimono with tears in the shoulder and a black shirt underneath with a large blood smear going down sideways across the shirt. Footsteps echoed as the young man walked down the alley his black pants swaying as his legs carried him to the action. Veil raised his flute as the symbols glowed and the song played of Beethoven's sonata.

Veil walked out of the alley playing the song as the gunmen dropped to the ground asleep, as he walked the cops who were over thirty feet away fell asleep and dropped to the ground. The flute moved as Veil turned his head looking out at the unconscious shooters and wondered if one of these losers had shot that girl. Veil moved around taking the gangsters guns and taking the cops cuffs he handcuffed the sleeping shooters to a pole.

Veil turned his head seeing the man with the gun and lifted his flute as the symbols began to glow once again and taking a deep breath he readied himself to play.

[Spotlight]

A man was sitting near the site of a recent shooting this one happening several hours earlier. He laughed a bit as they cleaned up the body already beginning to deduce what had caused this problem. He had received a bullet to his automail arm. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. He didn't care how he got them but that he got them. He than sat and decided to make something to entertain himself. Rubbing his hands together he made a spark that transformed. It then became a sparrow and as it tool flight from he ground he smiled as he knew someone would be glad to be alive and someone was passing beyond this life. He sighed getting up as he watched his creation of flame begin to disappear. He than laughed as it began to dissipate reminding him of a old legend. He stretched out his arm as he moved more into the city. 

[Guest]

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