the chemist

A strange woman waited for him after work a few nights prior, expecting their next meeting to be soon, and insisted he give this to Hyuntae. She was strange because she was familiar. Her eyes glinted in the shadowed back-alley of the restaurant in a way that was unnatural and frightened him. She called him by a childhood nickname he hasn’t heard since he was a child. She didn’t leave a name, but she said that Hyuntae would know who the package was from.

He wants to know how she knew to wait for him, how she knew who he was and that he worked with Hyuntae. He hasn’t been able to sleep soundly since it happened. In a vulnerable moment, he reveals: I cut myself that day in the kitchen. I keep having dreams that I opened the wound for her to drink from. But I didn’t do that. I’d remember doing that, right?

Anyway. Sorry, Hyuntae. He’s a little too spooked to talk shop today. Clammy-faced and pale, he says whatever’s in the box, he doesn’t want to know. He leaves @med1c1nal to open it in his own time.

H. I’m not sure if this will be any good to you. Jar A has a blood sample from when I was human, jar B is a sample of my blood mixed with Zero’s when I was human. Jar C a more recent sample I took for comparison. I’m sure these being something like 3 years old it will be too degraded to be much use, but the jar is airtight so never say never. I’d be interested to know if you can get anything out of this. You can contact me at the number written on the back-page of this letter if you have any questions or insights. Willow.

It’s as the letter says. Labelled jars in the same cursive black ink the letter is written in.

But his vague annoyance at demonic flair cannot outdo fascination. Rarely does Willow offer him anything—he’s still trying to determine how to safely wrangle her into the lab—and these are very promising samples. He examines them immediately, working tirelessly for several days to unravel whatever riddles the blood has to offer. Then, when he’s good and ready, a message:

𝙹𝚊𝚛   𝙰:   𝚈𝚘𝚞   𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎   𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌.   𝙹𝚊𝚛   𝙱:   𝚃𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜   𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢   𝚊𝚜   𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌   𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍.   𝙹𝚊𝚛   𝙲   𝚒𝚜   𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢   𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕   𝚝𝚘   𝚖𝚎.   𝙰𝚜   𝚢𝚘𝚞   𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠,   𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎   𝚒𝚜   𝚊   𝚕𝚘𝚝   𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍   𝚌𝚊𝚗   𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕   𝚞𝚜   𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝   𝚊𝚗   𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕.   𝙸   𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎   𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗   𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚊   𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎   𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖   𝚢𝚘𝚞   𝚏𝚘𝚛   𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎   𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎   𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.   𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔   𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸   𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎   𝚊𝚗   𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎   𝚒𝚗   𝙹𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗   𝚠𝚑𝚘   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢   𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎   𝚝𝚘   𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎-𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚛   "𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜"   𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍   𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚊   𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎   𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖   𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗.   𝙸   𝚠𝚊𝚜   𝚗𝚘𝚝   𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎   𝚘𝚏   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝   𝚊𝚝   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎,   𝚋𝚞𝚝   𝚒𝚝   𝚑𝚊𝚜   𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎   𝚞𝚙   𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎   𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑   𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕   𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎.   𝙸   𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎   𝚢𝚘𝚞   𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝   𝚊𝚜   𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕;   𝚑𝚎𝚛   𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎   𝚒𝚜   𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚑   𝙺𝚊𝚑𝚕𝚒𝚕 - 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗.   𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢   𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍   𝚋𝚎   𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎   𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑   𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛   𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎   𝚊𝚜   𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕   𝚋𝚞𝚝   𝙸   𝚊𝚖   𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎   𝚑𝚘𝚠   𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 - 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍   𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍   𝚖𝚊𝚢   𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝   𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚜.    𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎   𝚒𝚜   𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛   𝚘𝚏   𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚑'𝚜   𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 - 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜   𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍   𝚝𝚘   𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍   𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑,   𝚊𝚜   𝚜𝚑𝚎   𝚑𝚊𝚜   𝚏𝚊𝚎   𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜.  𝚃𝚑𝚎   𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝   𝚠𝚑𝚘   𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍   𝚘𝚞𝚝   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚎   𝚒𝚜   𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚗   𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚒.   𝙸   𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕   𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝   𝚝𝚘   𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝   𝚑𝚒𝚖   𝚏𝚘𝚛   𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎   𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.   𝚈𝚘𝚞   𝚖𝚊𝚢   𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝   𝚝𝚘   𝚍𝚘   𝚜𝚘   𝚊𝚜   𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕.

A little wild thing startled by its own reflection. He’s reminded of his cat upstairs. 

Lee Dong Wook as Ryu Soo Yeol

“i didn't know he'd come. i mean, i had an idea but i didn't know.”

when she overdosed for the first time, it took four bags of intravenous fluid before she felt like a human being again. her body was there, not quite warm under the soft blue hospital blanket, but a long, dim hall had grown between her and the sensations of living. she's grateful for the warmth of the mug.

It escapes him before he thinks better of it. His observations often read as judgmental, especially with his flat affect. And perhaps he is judgmental. The world is vast and beautiful; it earns its indifference. She has power—or at least has access to power—and she is selfish with it.

Granted, that’s the way of things. He can be selfish, too. Although he can’t beget cataclysms. 

Maybe he is looking too closely, missing the fuller picture. Maybe he’s wrong. You don’t know, and you say you don’t know, but you think you do. How does anybody learn that way? The strange tree outside the window almost leans close enough to tap the glass.

“I’ll take it on.”

@med1c1nal;

He comes bearing the same burger order he remembers her getting before, right down to the shake and fries. "I apologize for stopping by unannounced."

　　HONESTLY, SHE'S THOUGHT ABOUT TEXTING HIM far more than she actually has. Mainly, she has ended up writing things down somewhat disjointedly in a notebookーor transferred it there after jotting observations down throughout the day on her phone.

　　On some level, she feels guilty. As if keeping a secret from Izaya is anything new, or unexpected, or wrong, which it simply could never be. As if, somehow, in any capacity, this even borders on the idea of cheating. Like it would matter. To him, or to anyone.

　　And then there’s the ever-present loop of self-doubt. Despite the doctor (she’s not sure that’s a genuine title, but whatever) requesting at least part of this, she can’t help but convince herself that he’d grown tired of it almost immediately. Every message another nail in the coffin of his fleeting interest. What else is new?

　　So she doesn’t expect to see him again, and especially not like this. Things have still been weird with Izaya, but trending better. It’s terribly, stressfully delicate, the fear of When he’ll switch to hating her again. Which shouldn’t even matter, but here she is. Shocked, flustered, and yet somehow managing to glare around her door at the strange man her “husband” had sent to make her feel like a science experiment, and yet being overcome with a giddy sense of purpose instead of dread or resentment.

　　Her stony expression softens up quicky, though she doesn’t pull the door open quite yet. Dark eyes land on the food being presented to her, and she blinks, further surprised, before finally straightening up and stepping back to give way for him to come inside if that’s what he’s hoping to do.

          “I will call ahead next time.”          He sounds apologetic, if not somewhat rehearsed.          “It’s been a little while. I apologize. I think about you often. I’ve been busy, I’m sure you have too…”

Small talk is excruciating. It is an utterly pointless necessity that seems only to serve the purpose of highlighting how little he has in common with the general populace, as well as his vaguely disconcerting manner. He resents it. From the little he knows about Tem, he imagines she may be more forgiving than most if he simply cuts to the chase—in fact, it may be well appreciated. 

he  thinks  he  knows  that’s  on  those  papers  that  hyuntae  stops  to  study  for  a  moment  —  he’s  not  sure  if  it’s  just  a  good  guess  or  if  he  knows  in  the  way  that  he  just  knows  things,  but  either  way  it  pisses  him  off.  this  guy  pisses  him  off.  actually,  all  of  this  does,  and  when  he  is  out  of  here  jun  is  going  to  answer  for  this.  he  will  be  broken  and  sobbing  when  he  crawls  back  to  his  keeper.  won’t  be  too  hard  to  accomplish.

“  sure  you’ve  heard  the  stories  —  i  mean,  isn’t  that  what  you  have  there?  ”        he  gestures  dismissively,  a  roll  of  his  eyes.  yoojin  is  sure  whoever  has  been  doing  zero’s  finances  nearly  had  a  heart  attack  when  they  saw  the  spike  in  money  spent  on  food  and  alcohol  since  yoojin  has  come  to  stay  with  him.    (  and  use  his  money.  )        “  but  since  you're  nosey  —  a  lot.  i’m  always  hungry.  always  want  a  drink.  always  want  more.  gluttony  in  carnate,  or  whatever-the-fuck.  ”

really,  where  does  this  guy  get  off  thinking  he  can  get  away  with  doing  this?  how  would  he  like  being  put  in  a  cage  and  prodded?  there  isn’t  even  enough  on  his  bones  to  fantasize  eating  him  alive.  really,  what  use  does  he  serve?  namkung  really  is  the  dullest  little  mosquito,  buzzing  in  monotone  around  the  ears  of  the  superior  creatures  of  los  angeles.  but  why  the  fuck  are  so  many  of  them  so  scared  of  him?

“  i’m  a  drunk  and  a  drug  addict.  a  whore.  i’m  so  insatiable  that  i  eat  people.  but,  like,  everyone  knows  this.  pretty  sure  it  says  that  on  your  little  papers,  yeah?  i  dunno,  you  want  me  to  read  it  to  you  or  something?  like,  baby  bird  all  the  information  back  to  you?  ”

          “I’m trying to determine the accuracy of the written record,”          he says patiently.          “I understand this may seem redundant to you, but this information is antiquated, limited, and written from a distinct philosophical standpoint; I am comparing it to the evidence in front of me. It’s a necessary part of the process. This is how things are done.” 

Hyuntae’s eyes flicker back to the papers. He begins recording again, wishing he’d had the forethought to keep it going through Yoojin’s moody monologue. 

hyuntae  is  right,  taeho  is  intelligent  —  which  means  he  can  piece  together  what  is  happening  and  make  educated  guesses  as  to  what  might  happen  later.  he  might  not  participate  in  the  trade  himself,  or  at  least  not  anymore,  but  he  knows  about  what  market  there  is  out  there  for  monster  parts.  his  own  blood,  quite  literally,  paid  for  his  shop  front  before  it  started  to  pay  for  itself.

as  he  stands,  he  braces  himself  with  hands  on  the  wall.  careful,  slow  movements  before  he  is  able  to  speak,  to  move  and  look  at  the  scientist  that  stares  in  at  him  like  he  is  a  lion  at  the  zoo.       “  mm,  no.  i’d  rather  know  what  you  are  doing,  ”        he  knows  he  doesn’t  have  the  power  here,  so  the  least  he  can  do  is  be  agreeable.  from  what  he  has  heard  from  the  others,  dr.  namkung  can  be  very  reasonable.  maybe  taeho  can  prove  he  can  be  reasonable  too.         “  but  i  will  take  numbing,  if  that’s  an  option.  ”

he  wants  to  know  where  the  tracker  is  placed  so  that  he  may  remove  it  —  taeho  will  not  allow  himself  to  be  tagged  like  an  animal.

Perhaps he’s a bit disappointed. It’s easier to work when they’re unconscious. More liberties can be taken. Naturally, old and experienced, Taeho would know this. Which means Taeho doesn’t trust him. Hm. 

Alright. Fair. He put him in a cage, after all.