FIREFOX !

with: @blckfirefox location: food court

Elias frowned slightly, his nose wrinkling as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair very aware of the pair of eyes practically boring holes through him. The top of the pudding cup came off smoothly, clattering softly on the top of the table as he dropped it in exchange for the spoon, ready to dig into his hard earned dessert. But still those eyes stared at him. It was really unnerving. With a sigh, Elias put his spoon down and folded his arms, staring back at his adversary with an expression of mild annoyance.

i’ll put some tl;dr info under the cut to hopefully spark some plotting interest, and maybe in the coming days i’ll be able to throw together some open plots! but in the meantime, i’m best reached on twitter ( @kangdenial ) or on discord ( message me for that one bc it never seems to work properly )! tumblr ims are rally hit or miss for me since i’m not always on this account!

i’ll add more as they fill up

                                                  i’m high and i’m low, no control                                                   but everything’s looking peach now

                                                                         x

    IT GOES LIKE THIS: you wake to the sound of screams. the rumble of the discord seizing the foundations of the condominium, rattling the frame of your bed. vermillion isn’t known to be quiet. to be feeble and mouse-like. to scatter among the rest unnoticed. instead the house holds power, holds glory, holds everything that entices you in the beginning. 

     this, however, matters little when it is early in the day and the urge to slice something clean off someone weighs heavily (teasingly) on one’s conscience. 

     the day is like any other day for viper. for vermillion’s jaded youth. the house’s untimely (but she supposes if it happens every morning it had to be on purpose) rowdiness draws her from her slumber, limbs sore and mind groggy, lips poised into distaste—the occasional rumble of thinly veiled vexation seeping through. 

     it isn’t as if it matters, as if vermillion in its everlasting glory gave a shit about anyone else. its own members included. was the faction not meant to be a hurricane? a storm? pity to those who stand in their warpath? 

     yeah. okay. but some adderall wouldn’t hurt. 

     for the sake of her patience, mornings are better spent elsewhere, better spent channeling into something far more productive. now, on days where the woman wakes alone and certainly grumpy enough to show for it; viper, well-versed in her usual streak of aggression and all and any urges to sink her fist into something, would find her way to the training center, fans tucked into the sleek black leather band around her thighs and a cup of iced coffee in hand. 

     this. is routine.       this. day by day, without fail, hasn’t been broken yet.

     of course, there were exceptions. unforeseen circumstances that not even viper can control. at times it is a packed gym. a room closed for construction. other times. it is a hand sliding along the curve of her rear, cupping a cheek without so much of an ounce of shame.

    “firefox.” his name slips out snidely, drawled in enough masked contempt that viper is sure he has no issue in picking up. just as she is certain that he didn’t have a care in the world. figures.

     had she not been so used to it, she would’ve opted to slice his fingers clean off.

    “i didn’t expect to see you here this early,” words clipped, she turns to regard the slightly taller boy with a mouthful of teeth; free hand resting on his chest, dainty. the smile she wears is daunting. damning. 

    pretty—but if she were to spit a 30mm needle into his face, it wouldn’t have been surprising.

    “or were you waiting for me?” a quirked brow, mischievous claims her mouth, curls the corners gleefully. her tongue dances behind rows of pearls, sparking to life at the slightest hint of a rush. 

   “to see if you could fool me a second time and get away with it, i mean.” 

there’s too many people in this goddamn hell game and firefox wants to be one of the few to survive it, even if he’s taken winning out of consideration. it’s nearly impossible.

and then he sees something interesting, something fun. her. viper. it’s some weird understanding they have, some sort of exchange of coy smiles and suggestive language that never goes anywhere. she’s hot, firefox would easily admit it, but he’s pretty sure she’s not into dick. a real shame for mankind, but he can empathize with a love of women.

his greeting is always the same, and if he flatters himself he’d even say that it’s not entirely unwelcome. just a little friendly butt grab, no big deal between two friends. “viper,” he greets her in return, a toothy grin lighting up his face as if he has no care in the world. “mornings look good on you. how’s your girlfriends?” he uses the word loosely; he doesn’t expect someone like her to subscribe to that level of commitment in a situation like the one they all live in.

i’ll put some tl;dr info under the cut to hopefully spark some plotting interest, and maybe in the coming days i’ll be able to throw together some open plots! but in the meantime, i’m best reached on twitter ( @kangdenial ) or on discord ( message me for that one bc it never seems to work properly )! tumblr ims are rally hit or miss for me since i’m not always on this account!

i’ll add more as they fill up

< THE COLLECTIVE > PRESENTS TO < THE SEOUL HIVE >

< 2702-10-PRI-ESTP-06-77 > FIREFOX @/SPITFYRE

“ LOADING CANDIDATE’S PROFILE. ”

< ACCESSING_CANDIDATE_PROFILE…_ >

admin algaea actually had this drafted for the longest time and is releasing them right now as she comes back in a few days. remember the rule that if you reblog it from someone else, send them one back! 

“we need help.”

“you’re gonna be okay.”

“be careful.”

“i am the romantic type.”

“don’t leave me to turn.”

“it’s called luck—and it’s gonna run out.”

“are you still breathing?”

“we’re shitty people.”

“are you flirting with me?”

“what’s holding you back?”

“i’m not comfortable with this conversation.”

“will you /ever/ be comfortable with this conversation?”

“it’s not that easy, you know.”

“our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

“don’t touch me.”

“just fucking go.”

“does it sound like i know how to whistle?”

“i’m a pretty good shot with that thing.”

“let’s get the hell outta here.”

“goddammit—i’m clean!”

“chicken,” slips from the corner of prism’s lips as he glances over his shoulder at firefox. even if he knew that was going to be the other candidates response. so few people like to bother with the risk. but what was the point otherwise? they had already suffered this far. or that would have been his argument if he cared what his ally thought. prism did not care what firefox thought, he only cared if he was going to make this more difficult than it already was going to be, and get him killed. prism didn’t like nearly dying. he did, on the other hand, like glory and attention. so firefox was right there. still–

“my priorities involve getting more sponsors, because i want a new television.”

the tip of his toes are edged out of the shadows when firefox is calling his attention back to him, a scoff rolling off his tongue as he heard the request. “if i wanted you dead, you’d be dead. the only reason you’re alive right now is because you’re useful – stay useful and we won’t have a problem. it’s simple,” prism answers. he doesn’t understand what firefox wants. even if he made the deal, he wasn’t going to warn him or restrain himself from killing the other if it were necessary. and pretending he was, would benefit neither of them. it was more of a mind game to ask and request than to just be left how they were. 

“and by the way, asking dumb questions like this? not useful. neither one of is going to be honest, so you’re just fucking with our heads more.”

there’s a huffed breath, a pause and he looks back over towards their destination and then back to firefox. one of his sai reached out, prodded at the others arms and then let it drop down. “now keep up. if you live through this, maybe we can have a celebratory fuck–” prism utters, shrugging his shoulders, smirking and stepping out to head towards the destination, hiding along the shadows of the buildings and glancing around for signs of anyone else, before he looked back for firefox.

it’s his own distrust of prism that makes him want to rebel, to keep the other on his toes even if it means exerting his own attention to keep prism from taking revenge on him. firefox wants nothing more than to survive. sponsors be damned; what’s the point of a new tv if you’re six feet under and can never enjoy it? but he says none of this own loud, his fears about his mortality should not fall on ears like prism’s, who would only care about the information if he plans to exploit it.

“i don’t trust you,” he says that much out loud, though he’s sure that the other already knows this. pairing up with him as an ally would have been a smart move if this was some sort of training exercise, a way to push himself and better himself against a rival, but this is not training. firefox’s life hangs on the line and he’d rather it be so close to almost anyone else’s hands right now.

his jaw clenches, but only ever so slightly. he refuses to let prism see that the strain of this challenge is getting to him, that the drugs lingering in their systems still makes him a little more paranoid than he’d like. no, he’d rather not let the other know he’s facing a moment of weakness.

bishop really just wants to get out of here with minimal questions asked and answered. maybe it’s a pipe dream. privacy is hard to come by here in the complex; if the collective isn’t watching, the players are. he’s not going to pretend they’re above being nosy and spreading petty gossip. what else is there to do? they’re bored in between missions. shit happens. bishop doesn’t participate (much), though he’s heard a few things here and there, kept up with some of the interesting rumors.

but bishop doesn’t want his late night store run broadcast all over elev8 if he can help it. people are apt to come to their own conclusions about these kinds of things, sure. some of those conclusions might even help his reputation. still, he just wants to fade into the background with his single, one (1) can of whipped cream and not come face to face with firefox, thanks. god knows why he’s here at this hour, but bishop is no position to ask, too busy trying to get his purchase scanned and payed for.

“uh, yeah. wild night,” is bishop’s only contribution to the conversation, a strained smile playing upon his face. of course his koins pick that moment to mess up, further trapping him in this awkward encounter. he lets out a curse under his breath and taps his phone against the machine. “uhhhhh… no one? no one at all? why would there be someone waiting for me at home, haha.” that’d be kinda nice, it’s been a hell of a long time, but it’s just bishop in his tiny, lonely apartment.

hoping that is enough to satisfy firefox’s curiosity, he turns to the man and asks, “hey, can i borrow some koins off you? my phone is glitching.” it’s perfectly normal to borrow money from a random dude for a can of whipped cream. nothing weird about it. hella casual. he’s not sweating internally or anything.  

it’s hard not to break into a wide, self-satisfied grin at bishop’s obvious discomfort, so firefox doesn’t even bother to try to hide the sprawling smile as it stretches out across his face. he leans against the counter, eyeing the young man up and down in a way that he hopes will fluster him further. some people are just too easy to mess with and firefox is having far too much fun to take pity on the poor boy.

“wild,” he props his head up, bracing his elbow against the countertop and tapping his fingers idly against his lower lip as he echoes the other. “it certainly seems so. sorry if i don’t believe that you’re going home to an empty bed, but it’s cute that you want to protect your.. friend’s identity.” his hesitation over the word is purposeful, as is his posture and seemingly idle tapping.

he has no idea if bishop is being serious or not, but he can’t help but tease while he’s been given the opportunity. firefox is nothing if not opportunistic. 

❝With my last breath, I’ll exhale my love for you. I hope it’s a cold day, so you can see what you MEANt TO ME.❞ jarod kintz

THORN&FIREFOX ( @blckfirefox​ )

She does not like him. Not one bit. (Lies, he ranks high in her list of friends, but that is some information that God forbids he ever know). Off-days could be surprisingly boring (which was weird, because, at least, she was not fighting for her survival). Since he was around, why not going out for a change of scenery. Staying at the condominium was out of the question. She was not going to stay around where all the screens were livestreaming the current ongoing mission. If she could avoid watching others suffer or die, she gladly would avoid it. And, the latter had a lot of complaints about this too.

They arrived in Seoul around the evening just in time to start restaurant hunting. If it was not for Thorn’s lateness, maybe she could have asked to go at some mall and chill. Then again, with Firefox commenting on the poor decisions she would make was not something she wanted to inflict on herself.

“I feel like eating meat today,” she share looking around. “As for what I do not want, I’d love it if we stay away from the soups even if they are ‘refreshing’ for this time of the year.” She glanced at the other waiting for a reply. It was not like they were in a hurry. Unless the latter wanted to make it back as fast as he could (said no one ever). “We have so much catching up to do, sunshine. Such as how ridicule you looked during your last mission. If I recall, one of the new kids could not differentiate between an ally or an enemy. He almost chop your head,” she tapped Firefox’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of your reflexes. So, today, it’s my treat.”

a night out on the town with friends, eating food and talking and hanging out. like normal people. except firefox doesn’t know thorn outside of her nickname, which is not so normal for friends. and they’re pretty much the property of the collective which should be illegal but he’s pretty much stopped questioning why they’re allowed to get away with everything. still, if firefox closes his eyes and thinks away all the ‘buts’ and ‘if onlys’, he can pretend he’s normal.

and if he were normal, he’d actually consider thorn a friend rather than just a person he doesn’t mind spending time with. this game they’re all forcibly a part of makes him nervous to get too attached to any individual person.

“are you paying?” he gives the girl a sideways grin, though he has his wallet in his pocket anyways. it’s only after she gives her demands for what they’re eating that she answers his question anyways, and his grin turns a little more genuine. “oh come on, you know i don’t work well in teams. it’s his fault for not keeping up. and look, my head is still on my shoulders. it’ll take more than a couple confused newbies to off me,” he says it with finality rather than pride.

                          ⟨ 🐾  LOADING ADDITIONAL FILES ｡｡｡ ⟩                                          ⟨ 🐾  CODENAMES C A T & FIREFOX ⧼ @blckfirefox ⧽ ｡｡｡ ⟩

and cat is clever. firefox had noticed it and intelligence is always sexy.

he takes great pleasure in the game they play. the one where firefox acts like he’s god’s gift to the earth and cat should be kissing his feet and worshipping him for even giving him attention and cat acts like firefox is annoying and not attractive at all. just an act, of course, since he knows he’s good but maybe not that good, and there’s no way that cat actually hates him, right? haha..

not that firefox would care one way or the other how he really feels. 

the game is just too much fun to ignore anyways and he approaches cat with a purpose the second he spies him all on his lonesome. it’s a casual saunter, half confidence and bravado and half pretending that he’s not actually purposely approaching cat. he thinks it probably looks good. firefox usually looks good.

—  @blckfirefox​      — mission : enlightenment           ‘hope you die’

there was a benefit in hating your own ally – if he died, prism was not going to bat an eyelash and continue on. the difficulty lay in the fact that prism wanted to kill his ally, before he had even had a chance to use him. irritation edged in the way he twisted his sai, turned and pressed them against the inside of his arms. the amount of times he had been drugged, wasted, strung out on whatever they collective decided to put into him meant he knew he was still under some of the effects; they were wearing, but his heart was still moving too quickly to make him at ease and there was a tremor in his left arm that made him uneasy.

“we’re doing the side mission, whether you like it or not,” prism utters in a momentary frustration, standing outside the edges of the temple and looking in. there were likely a thousand things there to kill them, but he was damned well not letting firefox stop him from achieving what he wanted. reign, applause, adoration. his shoulders rolled, pressed back into the shadows they were hiding in. the plan was to let someone else go first, see what happens; plan around it.

his eyes landed on the other, gaze darting over him for signs of weakness and what would be the best way to secure his own life if it were necessary. could he run faster? was he stronger? the types of things that mattered when it was life and death, and he needed to react fast. trip, shove, throw to the wolves. prisms tongue darting over his bottom lip, swallowing down in an attempt to get rid of the dryness in his mouth and then looking back over to the destination.  “let’s get closer.”

briefly he thinks that he might be better off with a less bitchy ally, but he supposes that they’ll keep each other on their toes anyways.

“i don’t like it,” there’s no point in arguing, but firefox does so anyways. he’ll never give prism the satisfaction of feeling like he’s completely in charge in this alliance. “i’d rather live than get a little extra glory, but i acknowledge our difference in priorities.”

his mind is his greatest weapon and he finally decides that regrets the lingering fogginess of the lingering dose of the drug. he needs his whole consciousness, awake and aware and ready to react at any moment. he knows prism would throw his body into acid to made a bridge for himself, and firefox isn’t above doing the same. “hey, real quick before we go on this stupid death mission, can we agree not to kill each other just yet? like i know you want me dead and all, but you’re more useful alive right now and i think i would be too so i’d rather be focusing on everyone else who wants to kill me instead of you right now deal?”

a starter for @blckfirefox !

their first real interaction is not ideal by any means. it’s messy and maybe even a little upsetting depending on what perspective you’re looking at it from (read: saint’s). 

he’d been walking back from lunch, planning on spending the rest of the day at the piano if no one else was currently taking up the space. it was a safe haven for him. he didn’t have many of those here. so wrapped up in thinking about his fingers on the keys and finally feeling at peace, he wasn’t aware of anyone beginning to share his current area of being. no, he’s not completely coherent or understanding of the situation at hand until there’s a cold feeling all down his front, saint stopping to gawk at his now soiled sweater. he didn’t know what he should be more devastated about. the knowledge that he had bumped into someone and spilled their drink, or the fact that this had been his favorite sweater to wear. a nice pastel purple. easy on the eyes. or at least, it had been until liquid had stained it. 

in this case, he’s just really sick of looking at sweaters. all year long. in all weather. how is it possible that each one is uglier than the last he’ll never know, but saint continues to surprise him with new crimes committed against the fashion community. it’s not for saint’s sake that he’s doing this, it’s his own damn sanity that simply will not stand for another sweater on what should be a fairly attractive frame.

“oops,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all when he dumps his drink all over the other’s shirt. he hardly bothered to even pretend it was a mistake, not even feigning a trip or a moment of otherwise clumsiness. “that’s ruined now, that’s too bad. you’re going to have to throw that out, this stuff stains terribly.”

ft. @blckfirefox

three am in the morning and he’s fully dressed, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket as he makes his way to the convenience store on the first floor. bishop is a man on a mission, and even the late hour cannot distract him from his goal. honestly, this isn’t something anyone should be doing in the middle of the night, but he’s bored, can’t sleep, and… why not? he can’t think of a better way to pass the time. or tire himself out enough that he can catch a few winks before the sun rises.

as expected, the convenience store is empty. bishop picks up a basket out of habit and heads down the aisle, humming under his breath. he doesn’t need to meander; bishop already knows what he wants. the toughest part is probably picking with brand to go for. the grabs two different kinds and spends about ten to fifteen minutes debating between the two. bishop ends up going with the one he’s familiar with—doesn’t feel like trying too many new things tonight, to be honest.

he’s about to head to the exit to pay when he hears a sound. bishop turns slowly to see another person in the store and internally groans. while he’d be happy to stop and chat normally, it’s late and he really doesn’t want to answer any questions about his purchase. he tries to hide the basket behind his body, the can of whipped cream rolling around as he moves, and gives the person a brief, friendly nod. just pay and leave, no need for a conversation here. no need to make eye contact or feel awkward about his whipped cream. 

so maybe that’s why he’s hanging around the convenience store, half-trolling for interesting company or something to do with his wakeful night time hours. someone else is awake and firefox isn’t sure if he’s shocked or not, and curiosity has him glance over the other man and examine just what has him visiting the store so late at night. or is it early in the morning at this hour?

and then he spies something interesting.