Land of the Blind

Images flashed past his eyes. All his demons, all his past and present monsters were appearing in front of his eyes. They were chanting at him, taunting him, as if he never truly escaped any of them. The sight terrified him. The memories running through his mind like a movie wheel were blood-driven and malicious. He was evil. He was the darkness. What the fuck was going on?

It all died out in a second, the world coming back to him in a rush, completely throwing him off any guard that he set up for himself. His body was still frozen, and his eyes were staring past Suho, as if he was still looking at those dreaded images that flew across his vision. His fingers twitched, and he realized that he was back in the real world, that whatever happened was over now. His wide eyes lowered to the ground, his shaky hand dropping to his side. What was that?

Tilting his head up again, he noticed the other yelling to him again, lecturing him about something he couldn’t begin to understand. He tuned in around the sentence, “… even your acid can’t save you from yourself.”

"What the hell are you talking about?" he immediately retoted, definitely not liking the way his vision and that sentence mixed together. Did he create that? Did he fall into a trap? Jiyong was about to retaliate, do something to defend himself since he figured whatever this was turned into a battle, until the other spoke to him almost desperately. It was enough to make him halt on any immediate action, listening to whatever plea Suho was conjuring up in his mind.

Was he seriously asking if Jiyong was heartless? His lips pressed together and his jaw clenched nervously, his eyes turned to the ground again. Jiyong didn’t want to look at the other anymore. He wanted to be him? Hah, that was a joke. He could barely force himself to look in a mirror. Although, there was a short period of time - maybe a few years - that Jiyong was recovering from his old self. He was realizing that none of it really went away, and it was needless to say that it was fucking with his head. “… I don’t know.” That was probably the most honest answer he’s given to anyone about that dark time. “I don’t know how I did it,” he clarified, wondering if he should elaborate or if he should close the curtain right then and there.

"I don’t remember what I felt. Maybe I didn’t feel anything." He paused.

"I left because of that. I left because I wanted to feel human," he told the other, sincerity in his tone although anger laced his expression. "When you do certain things enough, you become desensitized to it. No matter what it is." He faintly remembered waking up on the floor every morning, turning over to his bloodied bandages and rolling them onto his palms without a second thought. He met up with his group and they briefly discussed what needed to be done before he was sent into room after room to intimidate and torture those who were stubborn enough to keep their mouths shut.

"It was a conscious decision to be a part of them so I could survive independantly instead of sleeping on the streets. It was also my conscious decision to leave and come here. I’m not going to plead my innocence to you, Suho, but I’ll tell you this: I consider this place a home…"

Sucking in a soft breath, pity heavy in his eyes, he watched the taller man’s hands shake and he moved to stand up, brushing his butt off with a sense of habit, rather than necessity. Even the snappish nature of GD’s next words only caused the briefest flicker in Joonmyun’s dulled expression. But he wouldn’t look away; he needed to know the answer to his previous question so that when it came, he could treat the other the way he was meant to, no regrets.

The emotionless look couldn’t sustain, though; not like this. Suho gave way easily to the true personality beneath as he listened to the other, his own lips parted ever so slightly like he desired to interrupt, though he never did. He listened all of the way through to the end, and then had to hesitate from speaking again, because a reply like that deserved a certain amount of additional effort on his part. Whatever anger G-Dragon expressed, the words pulled the normally fearful shorter man through.

“I know how you feel,” he whispered softly, “You learn to cope or you don’t survive at all.” Joonmyun’s hand rose up to rub at his left arm, the cold starting to get to him, though it wasn’t nearly as sharp as the hunger pangs that had just started back up. Their similarities ended there, however. The streets would have been a 5-star hotel compared to his time under the hold of that drug lord…but the fact that he still left held something.

So when the final, actual answer to his question came, relaxation found its way into his limbs, even if that likely also came from the fatigue that accompanied his power. “It’s…a nice little place.” He agreed lamely, Joonmyun’s gaze ducking down almost shamefully that he called out the other like that. It still also seemed like the dumbest thing he had ever done, but he could beat himself up over that much later.

However, he couldn’t keep himself from cringing when he heard his old name from that place, and he spoke up without even thinking, “Joonmyun. My name’s Joonmyun.” Glancing shyly up at the other, wishing for about the millionth time that he was taller, he clarified softly, “Suho was my name down there, and I don’t think I could live a normal life by it. It was a cruel joke. One I’d like to leave behind me.” And with that, he bowed slightly, like he was meeting the other for the first time, because in a way, he really was.

Nagisa was still trying to adjust herself to the strange schedule and life in the cirque by the time her third scheduled performance rolled around. She wore a long black skirt that just barely touched the ground as she walked, a white tank top and a comfy knit cardigan, carrying her acoustic guitar with it’s strap over her shoulder. The finishing touch was a light scarf wrapped around her neck a few times that added a pop of blue to her monochromatic wardrobe. More than just stylish, it hid the physical evidence of the worst day of her life. 

Her power was too draining to use every day- she’d end up killing herself. So instead she played her guitar. She found her little perch, a box about as high as her thighs, and sat down, adjusting her guitar a bit before she started to play and sing.

“What would you do if I told you, you wouldn’t have to worry anymore? Throw all your scars in the ocean… Drift to the floor and disappear, forever." She started singing in english, attracting a few wanderers with her voice. Some people left as soon as they realized there was no power at play, but some stayed just for the talented singer and guitarist at work. Needless to say, every pair of eyes was fleeting. "Dreaming, it’s got me by this far. Without it, I’d be lost in the wind. Some days I can’t get out of my own bed… But others I play along instead." 

It was for this reason that he was slipping through the crowds, counting his breaths mentally to ensure he had stayed calm enough that when people would brush against him, that they wouldn’t catch glimpses of the darkness as he looked for the bench that some kid had apparently thrown up on.

He had resigned himself to a rather gross evening where that sour smell lingering in his nose with the sawdust he would put over it, but apparently he had walked the wrong way, because where the bench should have been was another, totally fine bench, with a girl sitting on it. Pausing to reassess where he had turned wrong, he couldn’t help overhearing her song, and then he couldn’t just leave.

Feeling too awkward just staring at her, he fixed his gaze on the ground as the lyrics floated around him with the twangs from her guitar, and he fought off the tears that threatened to build up in his eyes at the words. They reminded him so much of his mother that, for the first time in a long time, he felt horribly, terribly homesick.

Swallowing down the excess of emotion, he waited until she finished the song, then he started toward her at a brisk pace, worried she’d start another song before he could say anything. Darkness had started to swirl around him with his upset, and he called, “Hey, miss?” to catch her attention.

So at least she had a warning when he stumbled, then stepped wrong once more, sending him flying forward with all of the grace of someone trying to walk blind.

You had so much control.

He swallowed hard, the comment itself making him unintelligibly nervous. He didn’t have any control. Ever. Did the other really think he chose this life? The only reason he left the gang alive was because of a fickle promise he made to the leader. That relationship, whether it was true or not, got him to move on. He thought that maybe he was pitied, and that he could be given a chance out in the world as something other than what he grown to be. Yet, he was back at square one. Again. Anger pulsed through him, and he bit down hard on his lip. It was a method to keep himself calm, but the other accusing him of hurting the people of the circus just filled him with rage. He worked so hard to get away  he took up the ugly name to make it into something else, something that he could look back on and laugh at, like all the old folks say they do. He didn’t come here, use his own name, and get this far, to hurt anyone. As much as he wanted to yell, to scream, to fight the other to prove that fact, he knew that reason wasn’t an option here. Could he really back down now?

Jiyong saw the other moving toward him, and it drove him into a complete panic. There was only a few feet in between them that would be closed within a few steps. He had merely seconds to decide on what this confrontation would be like. His hands twitched, feeling the cold on the tips of his fingers. He drenched his hands in water about thirty minutes ago - there was no way that he could fight back effectively, if that was what Suho was looking for. He could put his hands up, block, and pretend he had some kind of control over the acid that only wanted to feed andfeed andfeed. It was it’s own demon, it’s own monster—but no one would see it as that. Not even his best friend could distinguish the two, so why would he expect a person who actually lived through it to?

No one would ever understand. He was “so powerful”—but so incredibly useless. He could never play hero. He could only play survivor. And let’s face it, no survivor is a hero.

With no other option, he decided to go on the defensive. There was no point in him triggering his ability when he already had the advantage. The other was completely shaken, acting on impulse, if he could just hold him down… Maybe he could get him to understand what this all was. It was a psycho coincidence if it really was one, but the other was obviously a circus member too. The circus was a place for freaks, so why would a freak come here for malice? It was a home, the only home freaks’ knew. Who would ruin that to find a man that’s already damned?

His body went rigid as his power closed its iron fist over his body. Normally when this occurred, he had a grip on his victim, and that’s what would lock them both within the dark, but since G-Dragon had initiated contact, Joonmyun could only hope that the acid man would be smart enough to let go. Unless his power would lock him in place too? Worry churned like acid in his stomach, eating away at the poor stomach lining as he realized that that might trap him within the fantasy unless he could wrench away from this trained thug. Learning to break the sickening hold had taken so much training, so much self-control, because when fears came to play, they didn’t come to have their spell broken so easily. They felt almost sentient as they slithered up victim’s bodies, pushed down their throats and drowned them with ineptitude to hold it back. He had never met a person whom this didn’t happen to, and he was no longer optimistic enough to believe that GD could be this person.

The darkness surged toward them when the opportunity had been presented, and it wrapped around their bodies, their world, as they hungrily searched for whatever fear would most paralyze their two victims. It would only take a millisecond to hone in on it, since a person tended to lock their fear away in a very definitive mental box that his power had the skill to sniff out. But beyond sparing the man he feared most from his only weapon, Joonmyun could feel the hunger tearing at his ribs, stealing away any strength he might have had after finally getting regular meals again, and he did not want to collapse. If he was taken to a hospital, he had no doubts that he’d be back in a cage before nightfall.

So, gathering all of his strength, he wrenched himself away from G-Dragon, a flash of a bleak Something clear in his own mind for a second before he fell back gracelessly on his behind. Staring up at the other, he spoke in a cracked, incensed voice, “Are you insane?! Did you really think touching me was the smartest idea?” He didn’t know if his companion had seen anything more, since the terrors were targeted at him after all, and not their caster, but he couldn’t help scolding the other. “I bring nightmares to life. Surely you knew that. Even your acid doesn’t burn fast enough to save you from yourself.”

Back when Hakyeon’s father had been the CEO of the company, he had relied on people from the underground world to do the dirty work for him. Ironically enough, his father hated those people and he hated himself too for his reliance on them. He often told Hakyeon to never deal with them if possible and Hakyeon could tell that it was a sort of addiction for his father.

Unlike his father who resorted to physical violence to make people understand the true meaning of fear, Hakyeon was master of psychological manipulation. It was always more amusing for him when people created their own fear through his hints instead of him so bluntly expressing it. The mind was amusing, it would eat away at itself with its own creations.

So when he had usurped the company from his father, he had immediately dismissed those people and found ways to keep them at bay as a way to clean up the mess his father had created. The less people around, the better for him to do what he pleased. Just in case though, he still kept his ears open to news about the ‘other side’ because even if the normal citizens didn’t ever realize; what happened down there leaks upwards too.

Hakyeon had heard about Joonmyun before. A mysterious person who been enslaved to a bunch of drug dealers and worked for them. Being someone with an ability, he had figured the other must have been like him and not it was confirmed when the man of said description apparated in front of him in the circus. It was as if fortune was telling them to meet. Why not? 

The next time Hakyeon saw Joonmyun, he took that opportunity. Carefully gliding past the other circus members, he feigns innocence to the other’s true identity as he walked up to the other with his usual hidden smile. “Hey, are you one of the new members?”

So when a man that should have been well known by name, if not in anything else, Joonmyun of course wouldn’t have been able to tell him apart from a regular nameless rich boy. But even then, he didn’t know names, so when the familiar face approached him, he greeted him with his traditional pinched smile. Stranger or not, he had a slight issue with men, so his kindness always carried a smidgen of wariness, just from previous experiences.

The smile seemed a bit strange to him, but that likely stemmed from the smiles his jailors used to give him before he’d have to work, so he merely offered a stiff one in return, “Yes; I’m new here. Does that mean you’re old?” Joonmyun let out a nervous laugh at his bad joke, before clearing his throat and glancing down at the ground, a blazing heat already starting to flare in his cheeks as he realized how stupid he likely sounded.

It looked like Suho grew a bit more confident than the last time he saw him, which was years upon years ago to date. Jiyong would have lived happily ever after without seeing his face, despite all the other throwbacks he’s been facing lately. But not only did they make eye-contact, now the man barged right on in to his tent. Jiyong was in the middle of grabbing a gold-chained necklace, about to stuff it in with the rest of his stuff until he was interrupted. Jiyong stayed facing away from the other, and listened to Suho’s rather desperate sounding attempts at trying to be the one in control.

His past was singing to him, giving him all the answers for the fast responses and affective ways to deal with the current situation. There was his own moral conscience begging him to not do this to himself, to not throw himself back into that world, even if he is so far away from it. Although, he couldn’t have gone that far if this man stood behind him, treating him like he was the plague of the Earth. Although, there was a little truth to that demeaning statement, because he was a plague in Suho’s little plan, learning so as he listened on. You’re just as much of an uninvited guest as I am.

As much as he wanted to turn to him and laugh, name this all a misunderstanding and move on, he was too far deep into it all. He didn’t change his alias, for one thing, which was something solely for him, as he never expected something this nuts to happen, which was probably foolish on his part. He wanted the name to mean something different, to have a different definition than what the name originally meant. What it still meant. He wanted to wash the evil away. Jiyong wasn’t the type to pray to God, but he was hoping that maybe he could find a heaven if he started living a life away from all the terror and bad. Maybe he did deserve all this. Karma would never be his friend, it looked like. Not for a long time.

Jiyong put the chain down lightly, hearing the metal clank against the adjustable wooden table as silence followed the man’s speech. He thought hard, and never really came to a conclusion before he started to react. He was angry, to say the least. What right did this prick have, coming in and questioning him like that? He was afraid of Suho because of what the man knew, and he had a feeling that there was no way the male would keep his mouth shut if Jiyong sat down and played nice. He breathed in and out silently, catching up to his own emotions before he turned around to the other. That human-like fear that he felt from the boy was still there, but his anger was a lot more prominent, which worked out well for him with his current half-planned approach.

“I was never a slave,” he started, his voice cold and chilling, his own hairs standing up on the back of his neck at how uncomfortable he was making himself. His body and mind were attempting to fight off this tactic, because this was throwing him into a bad place. Into that place, that state of mind. Survival mode. “And I do not have a master.”

That was the first prideful declaration; he didn’t think it could be classified as anything else. He continued, his eyes staring right into the others, although his own were not as menacing as they were a few years ago. He was “out of practice”. The only thing he had to vouch on was that some of the whispers about him long ago were not always true. He did commit some cruel crimes, but there were some ridiculous stories that surprised him. He never cared enough to do anything about it, as it helped for his survival. The more people feared him and what he could do, the easier it was to make his boss happy, and the more frequent his rewards and meals were. Maybe he was a slave, but he wasn’t put in shackles or treated inhumanely, like this poor man was. That was another thing he had to learn as “G-Dragon”; to hide pity. It made it so no one would pity him, either. All his old thoughts and survival practices seemed so lost and stupid now, but they were still very real to the broken soul in front of him.

However, he couldn’t think of anything to say beyond his initial assault, so his teeth anxiously found his lower lip, worrying it with an ages old habit that had often caused his lower lip to look like it had been smacked with a hammer and swelled in the worst way. Today certainly felt like one of those days, from the dull pain he registered in the middle of all of this, and he wished he could go put something on it, but the clank of G-Dragon setting something down rang through the room, causing him to jump fearfully just from the suddenness of the sound. Wow; what a brave guy. Certainly someone worth heeding the words of by a criminal. Great job Joonmyun.

And that was the sick part; he honestly didn’t think the man in front of him had changed. It seemed too easy, too out of left field for the personality he had heard so much about in his days in captivity. Even with the kind words the other freaks used to speak of him, Joonmyun just couldn’t let go of his predetermined opinion of the man. Though, the tone of voice G-Dragon had just started speaking in certainly backed that up.

The moment he started speaking, a sinking feeling in his gut told him that he had made the wrong choice confronting him like this. Who knew if he was strong enough to run out into the crowd before this guy could grab him or throw acid at his face? Once he’d be out there, even then, who’d know when he’d be safe? The crowd would probably just think it was part of a sideshow, meant to shock and scare, but the little guy was okay, hahaha, what a good show…

Shaking those dark thoughts away, he cringed a bit at his words, though he didn’t actually shrink away, thank god; that might have given up any form of control he wanted to pretend he had. Of course, the way his hands shook probably gave him away anyway, but he balled them into fists and forced himself to get his act together, teeth reluctantly leaving his lower lip as he scowled defiantly at the acid man.

That act was broken the moment G-Dragon took a step toward him, however.

Face morphing into an undisguised pallet of fear, he staggered back a step, and whispered harshly, “I won’t let you people ruin this! These are good people!” Stiffening his back, he held his ground and started toward the other, uncaring about the acid at that point in time, though something seemed to twist in the air around Joonmyun. If he didn’t get his emotions under control soon, he’d pull himself into a nightmare, but the swirls of darkness, barely visible from the corner of one’s eyes, suggested no allegiance; they would train themselves eagerly on the next poor soul their controller would touch. “You’re right, you’re not a slave;” his voice found the same icy chill he used to speak with back in those days –the one lacking most of his emotions, “You had so much control. So why are you here, if not to hurt these people? Or to drag them back to that world?”

She chuckles softly, giving a small sympathetic smile. “I know how you feel. First time I came here I was so lost and I didn’t know anybody either! Plus a bit of a language barrier…”

It was that question again, she chuckled at how eager he seemed to be with the question. Like most newcomers, whos eyes were still not customed to all these “freaks” surrounding them. “Instead of what can you do it’s more of a what are you for me. I’m like a phoenix. I can transform into one but when I’m not in that mode I can manipulate the heat around us. That’s basically the gist of it.” She explained, as usual, leaving out the fact that she could burn people.

“Language barrier?” He asked quizzically, mind running back through her lines of dialogue to see if she had a slight accent or not that could help him place her. Joonmyun didn’t know her name, but he figured if he did, that might help out.

Listening carefully to the description of her power, he could help the slightly unattractive bit of gaping that he did, unable to believe that a phoenix could really exist, even if it was just a transformation form for her. “That sounds incredible!” Joonmyun’s eyes shone with the possibilities, “I’d love to see that sometime.” He knew better than to demand it of her currently with her last words. The softer tone had redirected his attention, and he bowed politely to her, “I’m Kim Joonmyun. I can’t believe I actually forgot to introduce myself.”

And then, the contact was lost and the darkness vanished. The sound of her own heart was like war drums beating directly in her own ears. She tried to figure out what had happened while chasing out the loneliness that she still felt. It was only then when her eyes moved to the man who still looked incredibly frightened. Without asking, she had found out his power. She frowned softly, eyes tracing the lines of his body. Sunken cheeks, bones showing where they shouldn’t…He was quickly wasting away. Was that a part of his ability? An overwhelming urge to care for him welled into her heart.

Even though her head was still spinning and the burning from her forearms had returned, she pushed herself to her feet. She gave him a small smile. “You came running to help me when I clumsily blew up a generator. No one else cared to come make sure I was alright.. I should know better than to touch an electronic with my bare hands when my emotions have the better of me…” She limped over to him and put her arms around him. “Seriously, thank you.” She said, lowering her arms softly and wincing at the movement. She made sure not to move too quickly. Whatever had happened had frightened her, but she knew that like her, he must just not be in control of her ability.

Whoever this girl was, she had been hurt and further abused by his god-awful power, mind pulled through a personalized selection of spikes shortly after a piece of equipment tried to country-fry her forearms. Guilt broiled in the pit of his stomach, it bringing further attention to the lacking contents of it as a whine sounded out that Joonmyun ignore in favor of stepping toward her again, hands tucked safely away. It seemed like she had the same idea as him, only she had decided on contact, a fact that had him quickly shoving away his panic in favor of breathing calmly. He would not drag her into that place again.

Carefully wrapping his own arms around her in return, he replied with a quiet, “So what exactly is your power?” It sounded like some sort of electricity manipulation to him, the thought actually exciting his curiosity more than he would have liked to admit. The fact that other freaks existed at all still completely blew his mind, especially considering someone like…oh god he didn’t even know her name. But she was really pretty. “You’re welcome, though.” Joonmyun smiled with faint embarrassment as her arms dropped, him actually far too pleased that she could still touch him after seeing what his touch did.

Caught up in her worries now, rather than his own, he made sure he stayed close in case she needed support, and reassured her, “Exactly. You’re okay, and I’m sure Hongki will be happy about just that.” Though of course he knew nothing about the man besides his leader status, so he hoped that was a good answer. You couldn’t run a place full of so many superpowered people if they didn’t like you, right? “Anyway, don’t worry about him now. Do you know where the medical tent is? Let’s worry about you first.” Joonmyun had basically decided that he would accompany her there, so arguing allowed. He would never forgive himself if the wounds were worse than they seemed and she collapsed along the way. So that was that.

“劳驾，你在这里工作?”A petite girl with long black hair spoke in Chinese, a pleasant smile etched on her features. Jiyong looked up at her, realizing that she was speaking to him, but he had the faintest clue of what she was saying. With a wary smile, he unconfidently mumbled the words, “不是中国人.” The woman tilted her head at him, as if trying to understand his accent and quickly realized her mistake. She nodded sheepishly and followed the crowd, with Jiyong left to wonder what it was that she was trying to say to him. He sighed and figured that standing there in costume probably wasn’t the best idea considering he couldn’t do much for the guests if they spoke to him, so he planned on getting back on the move to his tent. The last thing he’d ever expect was a blast from the past, especially since he thought the ordeal with his two old friends was bad enough.

He met eyes with a person who he’d give anything to be a stranger to. From the horror that was clearly striking the other by the sight of him, Jiyong was absolutely at a loss of words, movement, or anything slightly productive. He never thought he’d see this man’s face again. Or any face from that world, for that matter.

Jiyong blinked a few times, scrunching up his face a bit childishly as if the person was an illusion and he was over-paranoid by the recent events. But when he opened his eyes, that man was still there. Jiyong knew for damn sure that it wasn’t him that the other was looking at. He was seeing the heartless, sociopathic G-Dragon that existed in the dark parts of Seoul. And Jiyong was looking at Suho, a slave and a tool to one of the Red Kings’ most vigorous opponents.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking…” he said under his breath, breaking the eye contact after the shock of it all calmed down. This was insane, this was unreal! How could someone from then be here? In China?! Were they after him again? For what? He knew of that world to be ruthless and unforgiving but he made a deal and stuck to it, there should be no reason that he was being searched for at all. He didn’t give away his whereabouts to anyone, so this whole situation deemed impossible in every light. Yet, it was all happening, way too fast for him to keep up.

Where was he going again?

He barely even realized that he stood up and abruptly took off, probably throwing the other’s perception of him off completely. G-Dragon was cold, distant, and hardly ever showed that he felt any real emotion. In reality, he had plenty of it. He just learned to keep it all in, to hide it until he found a safe place to let out the anger and the tears. The memories that he desperately tried to suppress so he could lose that part of his life were hitting him like a thousand daggers, reminding him of his past cruelty and shoving in his face the reason why the people he grew close to left him.

This was his safehouse. The two year break he had from it all taught him to loosen up, and the circus completely won him over into not hiding in some kind of black and white shell, and let him be as human as he could possibly be with leaking acid being a part of his daily troubles. Was he going to be asked to be taken back? Was he going to learn just what that Suho could do, outside of all the stories and rumors?

Jiyong ripped open the flap of his tent, mindlessly packing his things back into his suitcase, desperately trying to figure out just what he was supposed to do about this. He changed, didn’t he? He wasn’t that person anymore, and yet he remembered those fear stricken eyes. He knew what that man saw. Jiyong’s jaw clenched and he lifted his hand to his hair, tugging on it in frustration. He hoped it wasn’t evident that Jiyong was just as scared as the other looked.

Swallowing harshly, his frozen-bunny body still stuck in imaginary headlights, he prepared for confrontation that might just kill him or out the freaks to the normal pedestrians around them. Depending on whatever G-Dragon’s goal was, the effect could be devastating to exactly one or every person there, but he was reluctant to think that even that cold-blooded man that he remembered could kill some of the children that parents dragged there. No one would do that for one guy, it just seemed like…overkill. Wow, tasteless; maybe he should just let the guy end him there, for a comment like that.

But, ironically, it almost seemed like the acid man had heard him mentally and decided that he wasn’t in the mood for playing wish fulfillment fairy that day, because he ducked away, seemingly heading away from him, rather than toward him. Joonmyun blinked with obvious confusion, fear abating with concern as he stopped to wonder if this wasn’t his chance to run, get away from the cirque, and hide elsewhere. Stopping himself there, a sense of pride welled up in his chest. Why should he have to run? He was enslaved by those people for so many years, enough that he had lost count, and only knew how old he was because he had asked a woman on a bus what the current year was. How pathetic. After all of that, didn’t he deserve a home? Enough was enough, and his resolve was settled: he couldn’t just let G-Dragon go. Fuck his “Red King” or whatever it was, that crazy man didn’t need any other advantages to his reign of terror.

It seemed nearly impossible to follow after him, with as little as Joonmyun knew about the layout of the circus, but asking around about a “g-dragon” produced surprisingly effective results, many other members pointing their way to his tent when asked, and he proved that he wasn’t a customer. He actually went by his gang name here? Where was the logic? If he had his own way, no one would remember “Suho” and all of the awful connotations that seemingly-sweet name held for him. Not to mention that this guy apparently became a member of the circus as well? None of it connected, none of it made sense, and so, as he found his way to the light green tent, his resolve only grew stronger.

Reaching it, unsure if G-Dragon was inside or not, he decided just to burst in, eyebrows tight as he gathered his countenance about him to appear more confident –or, at least, cool about himself, as he confronted the man head on. Pushing through the flap, he called out, “G-Dragon! What are you doing here? Why are you here?” His shoulders tensed up as his gaze darted to find the other, fear locking his shoulders as he prepared to deal with this now. Death by acid must be incredibly painful, but nothing, nothing could be worse than going back to that lifestyle, and he’d rather force the other into killing him right then and then.

Another new member apparently. She still wasn’t used to the sudden influx of members but she welcomed it anyways with open arms. Just like the current stranger.

“I’m Joonmyun.” He ducked his head respectfully to her, not bothered by such things as age, since she lived as a free woman, while he still needed to rediscover what “free” meant for him. “And yes; I’m new. Arrived just yesterday, and am still trying to keep from getting lost.”

Smiling a bit sheepishly, it suddenly dawned on him that there was another question he could ask her, just from them both residing at the circus. “What can you do, if you don’t mind me asking?” His eyes blazed eagerly, for he had never before known of people out in the world like him, beyond a single one that had been portrayed more as a monster in human form than a “freak” like these people.

However, it was only a few moments after these thoughts passed in her head that someone was touching her and a voice was speaking to her from behind the ringing. She concentrated on the words and opened her eyes, squinting at the face of the person hovering over her. Normally she might have blushed and told him she was ok. “I… think..” She said breathlessly, finally realizing just how much her chest hurt and how much her arms burnt. She tried taking a deep breath and opening her eyes again.

However, his blurry face seemed different. Shadows Danced across it. It was like he was flickering, fading away and yet she knew that he was solidly there. But that wasn’t the only thing different. A weight pushed down on her chest and she forced herself into a sitting position. She looked around, wide eyes at the darkness that had seemed to overwhelm them. What… what was going on? She opened her mouth to speak and mouthed “What’s happening?”. That was when she realized the final part of what was happening.

He was snapped out of his morbid speculation by her voice, it unsurprisingly very pretty, though her question made him wonder if a piece of the metal hadn’t knocked her in the head, poor thing.

Until he noticed the darker lightly splayed over her, it all too familiar to him.

Joonmyun nearly felt his heart stop when he realized that they had been pulled into her worst fear, and he knew he had to let go of her to make it stop, but something about this manifestation just didn’t seem right –he knew he was still breathing heavily from his run, so why couldn’t he hear that, in this god awful silence?

Free hand raising to his mouth, he felt the breath there, before it hit him what her fear must be. Concern colored his features as he watched her begin to tremble, and he steadied his resolve, grip tightening on her skinny arm even further, before he forcibly yanked his hand back, careful not to tear anything or hurt her. Joonmyun just knew, for whatever reason, that his power didn’t like allowing him to be the master of it so easily, his body locking whenever that kind of contact would be made.

However, when he could identify it, he would win. That was no more obvious than in the events surrounding them, how the black seemed to break down the moment contact was lost, and how his breath was once again akin to the snarl of a stalled car engine. Fear had a grip on him now, Joonmyun hating that he had to have a victim at all, not to mention one that looked so sweet.

Getting off the Island and going to China meant she could use the speakers around her more freely. When she danced she liked all kind of music although more classical ones were to her favourite. Ironically or not, she loved dancing to Igor Stravinsky’s The Firebird.

After everything that had happened, the phoenix girl had actually (to the astoundmenet of others) decided she didn’t want to go to the outside world. It suddenly seemed scary to her to even socialize at one point so she metaphorically locked herself in, using practice as an excuse for time away from the people she talked to.

Dancing to the tune of Danse de l’Oiseau de feu she shifted her body around until it was in tune with the repeated tune. She had pretty much memorized her choreography for this, the only thing currently missing from this compared to her actual performance were the flames she lept around in.

So he wandered, mind thousands of miles away as he considered his adopted mother, Joonmyun wishing desperately that he could call her, but he didn’t want to drag her into anything worse than what might have already befallen her. Honestly he didn’t even want to think about it, so he started whistling instead, something sweet and sad, before something seemed to cut through it.

Pausing in confusion, he stood still and listened for the sound, the faint twinkle of music floating through the air when he did. Blinking in surprise, he followed the trail of pretty, light music until he reached a sight that soothed him even further, Joonmyun enchanted by the sight of the girl dancing in front of him. She seemed so graceful in her purpose, and he could only watch her with quiet appreciation until the song came to an end, then he lightly started to applaud her, his careful eyes slightly warmer with appreciation.