PYRRHIC.

          rumors have never fazed him. no, wait, that’s a lie   —   he’s always minded rumors about his brother. anyone who spoke ill of  seungho  mars would face his wrath. it’s for that reason he doesn’t heed anything else, doesn’t care, doesn’t listen. that’s his greatest flaw when it comes to bombshell, at least it’s one of them anyway. 

          he could understand. in fact, he should, considering why mars is no longer around, no longer alive. but that only gives him more incentive. the anger ate away at him until he nearly burned the most important bridge he had left, to seungho, to mars, to himself really (   though part of him believes, knows, iris would never fully burn bridges with him; neither could he   ). besides, bombshell was just that: both a bomb and a bombshell. how fitting. 

          twice as attractive when angry than she is normally, that’s his excuse for the day should she ask and she doesn’t. he’s only so self-important that his opinion has to be known. he prattles on about nothing in particular, small talk, mindless talk, meaningless in order to incite a reaction. that’s all he really needs. it’s not about what he says, it’s about what it does. 

          amusement glistens in red-shot eyes, another sleepless night is nothing to him, and he cocks an eyebrow, head tilted as he tries not to reveal how entertained he is already. one sentence and he’s caught. “ a headache. mm. you know a study showed sex can be more effective than painkillers in case you were looking for a cure. ”

maybe, if she wasn’t as irritated, she’d notice the little things about ares - like the way sleeplessness rims his eyes in the same way as hers.  she’d hold pity for him then, and maybe bombshell would be a little more gentle than he normally has a chance to see.  but the fact of the matter is, he caught her on a bad day.  as he does most days.

so what bombshell does notice is the way he finds amusement in this.  from the minute they met, ares has always been this way - she’s just not so sure why he’s so damn persistent when she’s clearly not in the mood.  it’s like seeing her riled up really gets him desperate for a roll between the sheets.  then again, he’s a guy so maybe it’s just in his nature to be annoying as fuck.

bombshell looks at him incredulously at his very straightforward invitation - and when does ares ever take a hint? apparently the thousands of other times she’s told him no don’t quite sit well in his head, or maybe he’s really just that desperate to get in her.  whatever the case may be, she holds some respect for the way he never gives up on the chase, but that respect is not found now when she’s already as pissed off as she is.  

Mami saw her coming, at the edge of the stinky man’s shape as he’s nearly short of grabbing her by the throat, but she certainly wasn’t expecting what happened next. In the blink of an eye, he’s thrown – practically tossed like a rag doll – with a loud crash into a shelf and dozens of bottles. The sound almost makes her wince, but the better part of her scowls internally that it served him right.

Even if .. y’know .. technically it was the other way around.

The look on her face is dazed as she gets to her feet and watches as the woman threaten to chop the man’s penis off. It’s a bold threat, one that makes the little girl inside of her giggle, but the more adult size of her is only realising now the consequences of what could have happened if the other hadn’t stepped in. 

Would she have died? Gotten arrested by the police and then dealt penalties by the Collective that would definitely not have been worth the petty theft? She supposes she won’t know now; all she knows is that she’s still alive, saved yet again by this aggressively kind stranger.

Maybe there still is some good in the world.

Her eyes are wide as the next moment, her wrist is grabbed and she’s being yanked away, whisked away by her knight in shining armour, although others might argue that the look she just gave her is anything but one of a Prince Charming rescuer. She doesn’t pay it much mind, however. She lets herself be tugged along, steps quickly adjusting to her pace. Maybe she should ask where she’s being taken, but something else decides to spill from her lips–

“Are you really going to cut his penis off next time?”

enough time passes and they’ve crossed enough distance that technically, bombshell should feel safe letting go of this girl’s wrist.  but considering every run in they’ve had, she doesn’t trust the rookie not to somehow get herself in trouble in between the time she lets her wrist go and when they manage to get to the complex.  so she just .. doesn’t.  

there’s still fury in her steps, enough that bombshell’s practically stomping on her way back and parting seas of people to do so.  for now, she doesn’t trust herself not to blow a fuse if she looks back behind her to see the rookie’s face and so she doesn’t.  she just sets her jaw and makes her way through the crowds, through safer districts and safer people all while keeping a tight hold on her wrist.

maybe a part of her is afraid of what could happen if the collective found them on the way.  maybe, she still has a soft spot for all the kids who don’t understand what they’ve been forced into.  it’s probably why so many of them die so quick, probably why so many of them do stupid shit just because they think they’re invincible.  but they’re not.  bombshell’s learned that the hard way.

eventually, her pace slows down to an even pace - less of an angry gait, more of a frustrated strut.  still nothing like a normal walking pace - it’s odd, but she won’t feel safe until they’re back in the apartments, back in her own apartment to make sure this girl isn’t taken somewhere that she shouldn’t be.  it was just a bottle of liquor, but rules are rules.

[ closed thread ] DRINKING GOOD with @bombshellblck

contrary to popular belief, sappho does not have too many trysts. they’re not affairs – that’d imply that her girlfriend isn’t aware (and encouraging) of it. a hungry heart that matches an aching body would never be accepted outside blcktmpl. her desires wouldn’t be, either, but among people who knew nothing but death and pain and hurt, there’s plenty who seek the exact opposite when they’re not in mortal danger. no matter how much they’re made out as superior gods, they’re still mortal. still susceptible. still insatiable.

she heads towards the bar for more than a drink. this place is home to many of the lost. the music is sub-par, but good enough. better than the sound of death, of course, which is horribly morbid – there’s alcohol enough to drown that out. 

everyone here seems to have their own worries, or their own friends.  they’re not too bothered with the girl who keeps knocking back shot after shot, the same one who never seems to get any more drunk than the first one she’s had.  bombshell is drinking to forget, for at least a little while.  and it’ll take a long time before she manages to get there.

by now, she’s downed her second shot and she’s about to ask for another, but someone beats her to the punch.  bombshell’s about to mutter a great big fuck off to whoever it is that wants to squeeze into her alone time, but one glance at the girl next to her tells her that maybe it’s okay that she buys her a drink.  at least she’s hot and bombshell can handle the company for five minutes at least.  she just snorts a little instead, eyes dragging down the woman as if sizing her up.  and that’s what this game taught her to do.

good thing, too.  apparently, she’s not the only candidate in this bar, and it’s like this girl is making it known flaunting that serial code on her wrist.  “ so what’s a vermilion girl got to do with me?” the numbers in her code tell bombshell all she needs to know - at least for the moment.  her eyes cast over to the bartender who’s busy pouring out the shots of liquor, drumming her fingers against the wood and waiting.  “ besides trying to get me swooning over some cheesy ass pickup lines.”  the bartender hands their shots to her newly found company, and bombshell sighs.  she’s not drunk enough for this.

ace isn’t often nervous.

or, rather, he suprresses it until he doesn’t believe he’s nervous– that way everyone is just as clueless as he is. regardless, he carries himself with his head high and expression confident… because that’s just how you survive around here. but there’s the exception here and there of people he knows will call him out on his bullshit, who will see right through his ( usually ) calm demeanor.

bombshell happens to be one of those people.

and he knows how attentive the other is– how sharp, how observant. sees her gaze linger on his bag of convenience store food. he enters her apartment silently, his lips quirking up just slightly, snorting softly at the accusation. “i was already right outside your doorstep,” he argues. and he sets out his array of ramen bowls and snacks on the counter, hands resting on the countertop and supporting his weight as he leans on it, one hands tapping against the hard surface in anticipation.

“it’s what i was coming to talk to you about anyway,” he states almost conversationally, ripping open one styrofoam bowl as, despite himself, his teeth worry at his lower lip.

“but if you have any questions, you should ask me them first. i’ll answer honestly,” he finally looks up at her, meeting her gaze with sincerity in his own.

“ you should know better than to talk to me like that, ace.” bombshell snorts, closing the door behind him as ace saunters in and makes himself at home.  she’s not really chastising him - after all, she’s said things far worse - but it’s just the bond they share.  they’re almost like siblings.  and it’s true that she took ace under her wing after being taken into this hellhole game, a surrogate for the brother that she lost.  but even now that the very brother bombshell lost to the collective is in the games with her, she still treats ace like a part of her family.

a part of her family who her brother wants to fuck, apparently.  that’s still wild in her mind.  the last time she talked to lucky, back when he remembered her, he barely even knew what his dick could do besides take a leak.  lucky, always the naive.  she supposes they all have to grow up sometime, but bombshell still feels a pang in her chest whens he realizes he grew up without her.  that he probably had to have this talk without her.

bombshell sighs and flops down on a kitchen barstool, staring at ace with her chin in her palm.  “ you can pretend you’re calm about this all you want, but i know you, ace.  what happened?” she asks flatly, her eyes piercing through him.  “ he says he asked you, but you told him to talk to me first.  he doesn’t even know why you told him to ask me.”

she pauses for a second, hand falling to the counter and crossing with the other as she leans in.  “ so? are you trying to fuck him or not? be straight with me, because i don’t think he knows what he’s asking for.”  the words that she leaves unsaid still hang in the air.

@bombshellblck

levi’s fallen into a routine.

it’s been more than a few months since he walked out of that shipment container, mind empty, dark and blank, his only memories involving what he went through. essentially– he supposes he’s become a clean slate. and at the very beginning… he’d wondered if his past self could’ve ever predicted he’d become someone like this.

but that thought left as fast as it came– he no longer cares.

he also doesn’t care about the looks, or lack of, he gets walking through the Condominium, from things that people may or may not have heard about the things he’s done. however… after months of dreamless sleep– levi’s been plagued with vivid flashes of things that seemed way too personal and way too detailed to be simple dreams. there’s flashes of a silver cross attached to jade beads, of boxing gloves and worn blue hand wraps, a particularly strong one of the back of a hand connecting against his cheek… and flashes of a young boy with a bright smile. and finally–

a solemn-faced woman. and she used to be just that, just a face within a sea of candidates that levi did not recognize, and had no interest. but she’s been appearing more and more, and there’s something odd that he hasn’t felt since he got here… something sane, and more human. curiosity. and he can see her side glances his way sometimes– feels like there’s more there. and now as he stands right next to her, maybe a little too close– attempting to draw a reaction, by the free-weights, hand reaching for two. 

he glances at her– gauges her reaction, body language, expression. he’s sure they know each other, and he’s too impatient to wait for in epiphany in the form of something as fleeting and flighty as dreams.

she remembers, the first time she saw him coming in from the initiation - ta ... lucky was with him.  bombshell felt her heart shattering that day, and it only made it worse when they both walked past her with no recollection that she was there.  of course they wouldn’t remember.  they took the pill, and just as well.  just like joey.  that night, bombshell laid in her apartment and she cried alone.  she’ll never forget it.

but lately, there’s been something odd in the way that levi’s been looking at her.  still, he doesn’t speak to her, not really.  there’s just the passing glance and the furrowing of brow when she passes, and when he catches her looking, sometimes he looks away.  sometimes, she does.  there’s no way that he could remember her.

the collective made sure of that .. didn’t they?

bombshell never really gets her answer.  after all, they don’t really even have a reason to speak.  levi is violent in a different way than she is, and it’s not easy for him to make friends.  he doesn’t go out looking for a team.  bombshell just has to watch him from a distance, and try to make sure he’s not killed or thrown in solitary.  somehow, for levi, she almost thinks that would be worse.

she almost doesn’t expect him to get so close, but he does.  one day, when they’re in the gym and he leans down at the same time she does - her eyes flicker to his in recognition, but this time, bombshell doesn’t look away.  this time, she stares at him with eyes spotting the weights that he’s going for.  it’s in this that she decides to take a chance.  

if he remembers her, she wants to know.  “ you know those aren’t the right weight for you.” bombshell says to him flatly, nodding her head over to the heavier hand weights.  “ those.  you always used them.” please remember.  bombshell swallows, waiting to see if any kind of recognition flickers in his eyes.  any confusion, anything at all.

    <_OCCURENCE_>    late_evening_sometime_2016     <_STATUS_>    some_data_recovery_damaged     <_ESTABLISHING_CONNECTION_W_/_>   @bombshellblck

[ tw: physical assault ]

G r e e d  comes in all shapes and forms, and all walks of life. For the poor, it stems from desperate need, for survival. And for the wealthy … well, there is also a need, a need for more accumulation, for greater acquisition. A person lies if they say they have no greed. Everyone has greed. Everyone wants more. No one is ever satisfied–

Even those who appear to have everything.

“No! Stop–! Get your hands off of me!”

“Give back what you took first! I know you took it–”

It was petty theft; Mami knew that. And yet, in a little corner store in a darker side of Seoul, her hand had still gravitated towards the bottle of alcohol when she’d thought the owner wasn’t looking. He was a tall man – taller than her – and wider than her, with an overflowing pot belly from too many beers and lack of will to exercise. The residual heat despite the disappearance of the sun over an hour ago reduced the man to a state of sweat and bodily odours, and the small desk fan before him did little to help him.

The smell of him invaded her senses, stinging her nose as he loomed over her, hands on her wrists, her body, trying to wrestle her back into the shop. She struggled back, fighting, spitting words in his face.

Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? 

“Look– I didn’t fucking take anything– You’re fucking wrong! Let me go–”

the smart part of her - or at least, the part that stopped caring about anything - tells her to turn around, walk away.  this isn’t her fight to deal with - but then, the stronger part of her, the one that makes her blood run hot in her veins says oh, but it is.  how is it that bombshell always manages to find herself in the worst of these situations? how is it, really, that stupid rookies keep making rookie mistakes?  this is really not her fight, but just by being there, it becomes her problem.  jesus fucking christ.

what’s sad is, this isn’t the first time she’s seen this girl.  honestly, bombshell is surprised she’s not dead yet, considering the first time she had to save her.  it should have been an indication that this one wasn’t going to last, but maybe the girl is a little more crafty than she thought.  or maybe she’s not, considering the fat fuck trying to wrestle her down right now for stealing a bottle of liquor she easily could have paid for.

yeah, bombshell saw it.  she’s not dumb, and clearly the shopkeep isn’t either.  but something in her still burns hot at the way he’s grabbing at her, touching her; her fingers clawing trying to get away but he’s just .. a man.  

that won’t do at all.

it only take two steps.  just two.  he’s so preoccupied that he doesn’t even notice bombshell approach behind him, and by the time he does, he’s already been thrown into a rack of the alcohol he so desperately wanted to find hidden on her body.  everything crashes and bombshell’s eyes flash, quickly digging out the brass knuckles from her back pocket and flicking open the blade.  she hovers over him, his stench making her nose curl - the alcohol definitely not helping.  but the blade is at his throat, her knee digging into his crotch.  the look in her eyes is both fiery, and dead serious.

“ touch a girl like that again and i swear to you, i’ll personally come back here to cut off your dick.”

and just as quickly as it happens, it stops.  she’s turning to the rookie girl, eyes narrowed - in contempt? anger? who knows - and grabs her wrist.  “ time to go, klepto.”  and as much as this wasn’t any of her business, bombshell still won’t let go until she’s safe.

a c e vs. … … @bombshellblck

it’s been a long day.

although, arguably, ace could say this about any other day as well, considering he mostly had the same routine– more or less. he does try to change it up now and then– like maybe he’ll go to the gym a little earlier, or take his dog for a walk in the city, stop by a park, or fuck it he’ll go to a bar in the broad daylight. but today… today actually is different. ace has had a lot on his mind. but, for once, he was going to do something about it. but, like hell if he wasn’t going to procrastinate the shit out of the one thing he set out to do that day.

so he finishes up his morning workout, goes on a leisure jog with shine in tow, padding alongside him steadily through the gravel roads of a park close by to the outskirts. he grabs a coffee, enjoys it on the swings in a playground by an elementary school, tuning out the delighted yells of kids playing on the round climbing structure and the roundabout.

he checks his watch– about halfway through the day. he’s proud of himself; he’s making great progress. ace sighs, standing up and stretching, watching shine do the same from where she’d been laying on the hard sand. “let’s get going, huh?” and he makes one last pitstop, grabbing a haul of instant rice, rice cakes, ramen, sausages, and other fast food from the convenience store before finally making his way back to catch a train before there’s only one running.

his feet seem to drag extra slow, and he even deliberately takes his time dropping shine off at his place, and then slowly trudging across sections instead of taking the train with his bag of food in tow. even with all this… he is too close to his destination much faster than he anticipated.

and ace startles at his phone going off… almost dropping it when he receives a text from the person he is quite literallyon his way to visit, about the topic he was quite literally going to visit her about– is she psychic???

he doesn’t answer, simply knocks on her door before he can have a chance to regret it.

maybe bombshell has always felt like an animal confined.  but it’s worse, more so now than it ever has been with both lucky and levi being in this stupid life or death game with her for over a year.  somehow, lucky made it through his rookie year alive.  levi, she wasn’t so worried about, but it still left a bad taste in her mouth that he was even taken.

it only makes it worse when she sees just how much lucky has grown up without her.  all the things that she could have taught him in the years she’s been missing - the years that he hasn’t remembered her - weigh on her shoulders now, because he’s always going to be lucky the naive and bombshell’s just struggling to get things back.  she needs to be a big sister to him.  she needs to feel like she’s doing something right.

so that’s why she’s busy texting ace.  if there’s something that bombshell can do for lucky, she’s going to do it.  and that means having a talk with the one boy lucky’s set his eyes on - weird as it may seem to see her little brother growing up, he is.  even though she knows ace well, bombshell just wants to make sure he won’t take advantage.

lucky is still lucky the naive.

she doesn’t expect, though, to hear ace come knocking.  bombshell checks the peephole with some suspicion, frown heavy on her lips but only tugs open the door after she sees the younger boy holding a bag full of food like he expected this was going to be a long conversation and he was already preparing.  either that, or he was trying to butter bombshell up so she wouldn’t kill him.  not that she would - ace almost became a surrogate for the brother she’d lost when she was taken from her old life.

bombshell swings open the door and looks at ace quizzically, crossing her arms in the threshold.  “ you didn’t answer my texts.” she says drily, even though she knows why.  she has a little bit of respect for the idea he wanted to do this face to face.  “ ... come in.”