gangnam's starter blog !

crowds weren’t naru’s thing and most people that knew them were already aware of that too. now, they’d agreed to get somewhat dressed up to go out with their friends that night too ( naru choosing a very half assed dead cheerleader outfit that honestly was leaving them more cold than anything now ), but it hadn’t taken more than an hour before the kid had fucked off instead, more interested in the fox they’d spoken lurking for scraps near the carnival.

so that’s what naru was happily doing now instead. they’d texted their friends bad had no want to really leave the cute little thing. didn’t really feel like facing the bright lights and loud music coming from just a little away yet, or going with their friends later to seek out the party. that sounded like a nightmare.

now lore wouldn’t say that she wasn’t violent, but she also wouldn’t advocate it either or use it without reason. this though.. this was a perfect good reason in her opinion. self defence was practically ingrained in her by now, and with a few drinks down her ( because like hell she wasn’t going to get drunk at this fucking party. hell no ), her tolerance had worn way too thin.

one moment she was having fun with her friends, before losing herself in the crown and back up to the bar easily to get another drink. at the start of the night with the angel wings still on her back, this had been a pretty hard feat to move about.. but she’d pretty much shucked them off to the cloakroom as quickly as she’d downed her first drink. she liked the complete outfit and all, and she looked damn fucking good if she did say so herself. but it was frustrating at the same time. that aside though, being at the bar had led to the start of a fiasco as she’d felt a hand on her back, then her waist– and well that was enough for lore to turn and swing. instinct. survival. taking over as she decked the other with a quick punch. honestly, her hand fucking hurt, but lore still managed to flee through the crowd almost gracefully until she was outside. 

she had only intended to go to the carnival initially, playing coy and saying she had to study the next day but the short white dress and gallon of fake blood called for more than ferris wheels and so nari’s cute-yet-gory rendition of carrie took to the club. a few shots later and the night was only beginning. she took another step outside and stumbled, the tell-tale snap sound of a heel breaking and she half-fell half-sat down on the curb with her eyebrows knit and a feeble “ouch.”

she took the one shoe off, holding the separated heel in the other hand with a drunken pout, her store-bought “prom queen” sash falling limp down her shoulder. 

ji ✧ was thinking of throwing a pre-game at my apartment, should i?

as someone who had strong preference towards having conversations face to face, his phones were, to clement, just decorations that he had to possess in order to be accepted in this modern world of technologies. the frustrated ones who required to contact the man in day to day basis were the living proofs to such statement. with no visible expressions to be seen through them, phone calls and messages were unnecessary and if they didn’t meet the level of clement’s urgency, it’s either missed calls, messages left unread forever or another broken phone by the end of it.

his tolerance for them however would start cracking, as the halloween season was approaching. with his nightclub now being the center of everyone’s attention, his phones were ringing nonstop. either of works, his closed ones inviting him out for the night but what ticked him off the most, were from those who wished to leech off him to gain easy access for the event.

yejun wasn’t a habitual smoker by any means, but it was a habit he often found himself drawn to during times of stress, a second to just relax and watch the smoke billow up into the sky. at this point, it felt like it had been a week since he’d slept properly, up at all hours of the day and night to extinguish little problems at the bakery that didn’t seem to end. though he was only twenty two years old, he easily felt double that with the way he’d been burning the candle at both ends.

some people did say that only those that hated themselves would subject themselves to running at the ass crack of dawn– and fuck it, maybe they were right. usually kit’s runs weren’t this damn early too, but after a shitty amount of sleep he couldn’t really hold back from using the morning to clear his head like this. so he’d been running since the sun had risen and now a few hours later he was jogging back to maybe actually follow through on a decent enough morning routine before his work later. or he fucking would be if someone hadn’t just appeared out of fucking nowhere and caused him to near body slam the other as he did his best to slow the hell down. still sent him crashing though, didn’t know about them but he felt himself go down hard with a groan. 

    as the moon begins to settle into the sky, an unwelcoming chill fills the air — biting, a little too cold for the first two weeks of autumn. pedestrians draw their coats tighter around them, picking up the pace until they’ve finally reached their homes as darkness falls. among the masses is one female, but her destination is not her own residence. instead, while others tuck themselves in for the night, she seems to come alive, a skip in her step as she playfully knocks elbows with the person who had (un)fortunately been forced hired on as an extra set of hands for tonight’s photoshoot. “now don’t go getting cold feet on me,” she teases, unusually cheery given the sudden hair-raising wind — perhaps a sign of what the night would become. “it took me forever to find this place. you have no idea how quick they tear down abandoned buildings. it’s just not fair!” boa huffs, the two turning a corner as she pulls her phone from her pocket. she’s spent the better half of two weeks trying to find a new location for some photos, finally lucking out when discovering what seems to be the sight of an abandoned restaurant. it’s no hospital, she thinks, but it’ll work. “here,” she says, passing off her phone to the figure on her right, increasing the brightness before they take it. “ta-da! an abandoned dumpling house. maybe we’ll run into a ghost critic.”