[attr="class","header2"]APPEARANCE

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The Armitage family has been in Manchester for generations, and is one of the oldest families in the city. This has caused them to become the perfect example of the term 'old money', having amassed a large fortune over the years. And as the single son of the latest heads of the family lineage, Alastair was born with quite the inheritance in his future. Though even if he never needed to worry about anything in his monetary future, his upbringing wasn't all smooth sailing. He'd gone to an all-boys boarding school specialized in building discipline in their students so they could later be the next business leaders in the European market. But while most of his fellow graduates were going into business management and marketing, Alastair's interests lied in the culinary arts, always being fascinated by how many meals and cuisines there were all across the world.

But as he but as he began his education (much to his parent's disdain, but hey, maybe he'd start a restaurant empire?), he found himself at his first major roadblock: Meat. They'd taught them early on how to properly prepare multiple cuts and types of proteins, and yet Alastair had managed to find a reason of lacking behind each one. Turkey was too dry, chicken too bland, beef too fatty, venison and lamb too gamey. He'd always been picky growing up, but the more he tried to cook on his own at the culinary academy, the more distain he began to feel from eating in general. Eventually, this led to him dropping out of the academy and returning home. But even when he wasn't the one preparing the food, he'd still lost his appetite for daily meals, everything he'd been served suddenly wasn't satisfying to him anymore.

One day, the frustration caused from this came to a head as he confronted his family's head chef, raising his hand to them, and accidently activating his quirk for the first time in his adult life, flicking his hand forward to originally just smack the chef, but instead severing them in half from the center. Of course, something like this would've been bad for the Armitage name, so his parents covered up the chef's death and the sudden activation of Alastair's quirk. But as they were storing the body of the chef in the basement until someone could 'handle it', a morbid thought came over Alastair. Moments after the kill, and for the rest of the day afterwards, the scent of the fresh blood had been on the forefront of his mind. There was still one type of meat he hadn't tried yet. One that was freshly cleaved in his basement. That night, he'd had risotto, and for the first time since he'd begun his classes, he'd found a meal that didn't disturb his tastebuds. He'd found the perfect medium. And thus began the reign...of the Manchester Butcher.

"It's a sunny Saturday morning, and it marks the second week in a row that the people of Manchester have been able to wake up without finding another morbid mutilation littering their streets. The police are currently uncertain if this means that the Butcher has moved on from our fine city of Manchester, or if they're simply lying low due to the police closing in. But we can only hope that the skies stay sunny and the streets stay blood free."

As Alastair's gaze trailed out the window of the first-class airliner he was traveling in, his shark-toothed grin reflected at him as he overlooked the island of Honshu. "Let's hope the cuisine in Japan isn't as bland as the meat back home in England..."