frost // frozen

hiya i came unprepared but this is jiwon, a junior agent who just so happens to also be enhanced with strength. he’s got a big case of hero complex with some other issues sprinkled in, as you do. i’ll leave a summary of him under the cut as well as some plot hooks i’d like for him, so give ‘em a read and like this post if you’d like to plot!

she doesn’t realize what she’s said until jiwon’s displeased voice and expression is turned upon her. jina never means poorly by her words, her tendency to try and take care of everyone around her. but at the same time, at just nineteen, she hasn’t really learned that not everyone reacts well to being cared for. there are some people who simply prefer to be left alone. part of co-existing with people is understanding and respecting everyone’s individual boundaries, but that’s a lesson that jina hasn’t fully learned yet.

it probably doesn’t help that she’s only ever really existed within the boundaries of her family, who have always been open with each other. they’re family. they were all they had left. and when their parents had left, it had just been her and jinseo. they had only had each other left, and with jinseo going nearly unresponsive in response to their loss, she hadn’t had any choice but to care for him too, if she didn’t want to lose him. she’s always been the older one (by 20 minutes), but it felt like that responsibility was hers to bear, and rightfully so.

they’ve never really had the opportunity to socialize for extended periods of time with other people. all she knows is how to be a big sister, a caretaker, for jinseo, in particular.

it’s still something she has to get used to. so when jiwon says her name in that tone of voice, she glances up at him before realizing that she’d done what he had firmly asked her not to do near the beginning of their training.

“i… i’m sorry,” she apologizes, glancing down at the mat and letting her hair obscure her face. “i just… i’m sorry, jiwon. i didn’t mean…” she trails off, her lips pursed in a small pout, not sure how to explain her train of thought.

jiwon should know better than to give attitude towards his teammate, really. jina seemed harmless enough, genuine enough for him to believe she wasn't doing out of malice... but he's still much too sore from the situation as a whole to rely on facts and logic.

but upon hearing her apology, his heart immediately sinks and he stops giving the training dummy a hard time. he feels bad for glaring at her now, but still much too awkward to do anything about it.

"hey— erm," he rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. "it's okay just...don't do it again?" his voice is unsure because as much as he doesn't want her to feel bad, it very much was not 'okay'. "don't feel bad, hey. you okay?" now he's glancing at her, trying to discern her expression from behind the curtain of hair. surely she wasn't actually upset over this right? oh, man. jiwon hopes he doesn't get in trouble for this. what if she cries? how is he going to explain that?

"i know you didn't mean it. i just don't like being told what to do...you know, like i told you," he's scrambling through his thoughts now, repeating words already once said. "but it's fine, really." 

there’s always something a little strange when it comes to meeting someone again.

the concept of re-connecting is not an unfamiliar one to doyun, he is rather use to this whole meeting someone over again. he’s had to do a bunch of reintroductions lately but this is the world they live in after all and nothing is guaranteed. nothing is promised to go as expected so doyun has learned to stop expecting. 

but even knowing that he couldn’t help but to expect something familiar from jiwon. the older boy was a friend–at least in doyuns eyes–before the fall of seaside. he had expected to be meeting that same boy who use to run around with him. bringing doyun along to his adventures even if it got them in trouble. maybe its wrong of him to expect that. to not think someone would change–as he knows he has also changed. 

he finds himself wilting a little at the response he gets from jiwon. though not fully as he can see a shade of the boy he once knew. but only a shade, a hint really. “fine? oh— right, yeah you weren’t in the safehouses during the fight–i looked for you when things calmed down.” 

but what is different, he doesn’t know. 

“i have grown!! i’m taller now and i’m training to be an agent soon!” he replies, trying to keep his energy up. the excitement he had felt when he heard who was back. “once i turn 18 i’m going to join a team and help protect people– are you officially an agent now?” 

jiwon feels a part of his heart melt at the realization that someone had been looking for him. he had felt so painfully, suffocatingly lonely in his time on the run. having to live in a world without his parents was tough enough, but he managed it because jisoo, his sister, was around—but now even she's gone. he feels truly alone for the first time in his life, having thought all his friends dead after the attack too.

so the idea that doyun, as little as jiwon remembers him, had thought of him enough to search around makes him happy.

"thanks," it's simple, but genuine, accompanied by the smallest hint of a real smile.

"you have grown taller," he acknowledges, thinking back to when doyun was but a wee little thing. he's still shorter than jiwon, but he realizes he's on the taller side. there's not that many people taller than him around these parts.

"i am," he nods in confirmation, heart aching a little at how much doyun sounded like a younger version of him. it's just like the way he would brag about joining seaside as an adult, a promise he had made to his sister and many others. "jisoo would be prou-" the thought slips out before he can catch it. a flash of white sends a nauseating feeling into his gut, and he feels his stomach turn as he remembers everything. fuck.

sometimes seoyun wonders how disappointed jiwon must have been to meet him again. the memories he had of the other from their youth, from the days when seaside still stood tall, were all good ones. always an adventure, with seoyun having just enough reluctance to have plausible deniability if they ever got in trouble. jiwon was someone who could pull seoyun out of the fragile shell he had started to develop and seoyun, in return, would let himself be dragged on whatever adventure jiwon came up with.

they’re both different people now. jiwon grew up and became more responsible, better. seoyun grew sad and became worse.

but jiwon was still persistent enough to get seoyun back into his life again. and it turns out that they’re very compatible sparring partners; who better to go against the guy with enhanced strength than the guy with enhanced durability? seoyun’s bones still break, but it takes a little more effort than a normal human could supply. he still feels pain, but it’s delayed and dulled enough that he can get himself to the hospital before it gets debilitating.

that’s why he’s not screaming and writhing the moment he feels something crack in his chest under jiwon’s fist. he lets himself go limp instead, falling to the ground instead of making it worse by locking up his muscles and injuring himself further. he doesn’t feel the pain, not yet, but his breath still comes in short gasps, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

what is it? he touches his own chest with gentle hands, trying to diagnose himself before the pain starts. sometimes, at least with minor things, he’s able to give himself relief before he actually feels the hurt. he’s pretty sure that this is a little worse than minor. his sternum feels normal, solid. each rib seems to be intact, but when he gets to his clavicle, the right side is fine, but then the left… oh, yeah, that’s not how that should be moving. it shouldn’t be moving at all. and the moment his brain catches up to the signals that his nerves are undoubtedly screaming at him, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“i’m alive,” he croaks, voice soft as his breath still comes in short, shallow gasps. “durable, remember? a little harder to kill… than that.” but he doesn’t move yet either, and doesn’t let jiwon touch him if he tries to reach out. “god, i didn’t know you were… that strong. maybe hold back… just a little… next time.”

seoyun pushes himself upright with his good side, trying to keep the left immobilized for when the pain finally starts. “i am going to need a hand getting to the med wing, though. you broke my fucking collarbone.”

relief floods through his body when seoyun speaks up. at least he's not... y'know, but it's quickly pushed out by a new wave of worry.

"you told me you could take it..." he whines—you could almost see his metaphorical puppy ears droop. "and you seemed fine all the other times. fuck, sorry..." he's just making excuses at this point, and he realizes it. he knows he's strong, too painfully aware of it, and yet there's an irony in the fact that it's still not enough to kill demons with, just strong enough to hurt his friend.

"your collarbone?!" he sounds surprised at the fact, his brain somehow never having processed that as a bone that could be broken. he fidgets about as seoyun props himself up, wincing in anticipation of any visible signs of pain.

"are you sure? wouldn't it be safer if you stayed here and i went to go get someone?" well, if that was the solution, seoyun would've said it himself, no? jiwon seems to dismiss his own words in his head, quickly speaking up again before seoyun can respond.

tw: tight, confined space. asphyxiation risk.  

There was a lot of unknown territories when it came to demons and the fact they all seem to have manifested the poison differently didn’t make things easier. Some demon agents had brightly colored eyes, others had physical characteristics like claws. For Cheng, he just constantly oozed this ominous dark energy that had a natural tendency to drift towards humans. He didn’t want to lie, so he told agent Vox what he truly thought. “It is probably what you are thinking.” This energy was likely acting on the demonic instincts he was suppressing. Wanting to surround the human the way he wouldn’t allow his arms to, desiring to touch the skin he wouldn’t allow himself to break. 

“I am sorry, this is an uncomfortable situation.” Nobody wanted it, but that was precisely why fate was often called cruel. “I could stay quiet,” he said. “But some people likes it when I…keep talking.” Because humans talked and demons didn’t really. Some agents he had worked with in the past felt somewhat reassured whenever his lips moved, because that was a sign he was in control of himself and capable of communication. That was one of the reasons that Cheng, the quiet farm guy who used to share his thoughts only with the stars, trained himself to be more social.

There was sound of subtle movement above their heads. For a moment Cheng’s heart lifted with relief, only for the universe to shove down his throat another fist full of lemons. 

Whatever happened up there caused a further collapse, and their already small safe zone became even tinier. With debris pushing against his back, Cheng couldn’t find his balance fast enough to counter the pressure. All he managed to do was to plant both of his hands on the wall on either side of Agent Vox’s head, just so they didn’t have to physically collide. 

“Shit.” 

He had to use his injured arm, and while the pain radiating up his shoulder was a concern, it was hardly the most pressing one. The air was thinning out, and what remained of their oxygen supply was heavily tainted by the scent of blood. If unaddressed soon, this would kill them. What could also kill them would be if debris kept on moving around and ultimately crush them. Between those two potential methods of death, Cheng didn’t know which one was worse. 

“I should have recorded a message for my family,” he mumbled. “My father…my sister.” No, he shouldn’t think like that. If nothing else, his family deserved to hear a goodbye message and if one cannot be recorded, then he simply must not submit to his fate. Cheng’s eyes scanned their surroundings, because somehow the feeble light source survived. There has to be something they could do…something they could use. 

jiwon frowns at castle's confirmation of his thoughts, though part of him does appreciate the honesty. his guard slips a little, if anything, at the genuine tone in the demon's voice. he sounds considerate, thoughtful enough to put himself in jiwon's shoes, but jiwon catches himself before his thoughts slip too far. his sister had always berated him for being too gullible, too soft-hearted and trusting, and he realizes that right now as he's sat next to a demon without having to fight the urge to rip his throat out.

"you can stay quiet if you'd like." what agent castle said wasn't wrong, but jiwon would rather save them both the trouble of making small talk—he'll be uncomfortable either ways.

it's obvious that he doesn't like this situation for a variety of reasons, but the fact that agent castle seems to be a genuinely nice person under the suffocating cloud of dark energy really throws jiwon off. if not for the whole demon thing, he could see himself respecting agent castle, growing fond of him, even.

something tightens in his throat as these thoughts pass through his mind, the ringing in his head growing worse and worse. it distracts him enough that he doesn't even notice the disturbance above, and the next thing he knows, he finds himself face-to-face with his fellow agent.

his mind processes the immediate danger first, propping his arm up against the piece of concrete threatening to crush them both. he's strong enough to keep it up, thankfully, but any more weight and he's going to have to come up with something else.

and now the secondary threat—the demon right up in his face. logically, he knows that agent castle had to come closer, and jiwon didn't sense any bloodlust coming from him—but...

he struggles not to gag from the overwhelming dark energy so close in proximity to him. it feels too much like that day, and their dwindling supply of oxygen didn't help.

"sorry, i- fuck." he swallows another turn of his stomach. he can't think straight, and agent castle's words barely process in his mind. the demon had a family? a family? the voice in the back of his mind screams with envy, a mixture anger and sadness. why was he... why him?

he's going to die alone.

new faces, old faces. there are so many people here from seaside that juwon had thought would have perished during the fall of seaside.

one of the most awkward things for him has been reconnecting with those whom he had unintentionally distanced himself with prior to the fall — when he had been trying, and failing, to cope with the change in his parents’ attitude. he had been weak, as a child. it had hurt other people, his unexplained inability to cope with the world around him.

he glances up, his eyes meeting a familiar face, and it takes him a moment to process exactly who is across the room from him. ryu jiwon, a friend he had sparred with often in his early teenage years after the other had joined seaside. there had been sharp exchanges at one point when juwon had struggled with his own emotions, and although a rift had formed between them, juwon simply had not had the mental and emotional capacity to resolve the break.

despite the lingering guilt of a failed friendship, entirely his fault, he smiles at jiwon, honestly relieved to see the other male still here, still alive. jiwon approaches him, and his smile falters slightly at the other’s words.

so. jiwon hasn’t forgotten him, either. this, perhaps, does not help juwon.

“jiwon,” he replies in greeting, his voice soft as he blinks up at the other male. ‘it’s been a long time… have you been here all along?“ what are you doing here? juwon doesn’t answer the question quite yet, having a sneaking suspicion that that is not the actual question jiwon wants to ask him.

the way juwon smiles at him so nonchalantly sends a shock of emotion through his heart. what emotion exactly? he doesn't know. feels like spite, anger, confusion, annoyance, and relief all rolled up into one. fucking hurts.

jiwon. so he still remembers him, remembers how to say his name. why is his voice so gentle? has juwon gotten shorter? or has he himself just grown that much?

"a long time..." he repeats, sounding almost insulted by the fact. "no, i haven't. i only got here a year ago," he leaves out everything else, not exactly wanting to get into all the things he did to stay alive out there alone after the fall of seaside—no. that's not what he's here to talk about.

"you..." he's at a loss for words, frustrated at his inability to convey his thoughts. this is much too casual of a tone to be having, but even through the melting pot of emotions stirring within his chest, he's able to recognize the fact that there's still a part of him that is glad to see juwon alive and well.

Unhappy, but not unreasonable. Cheng considered himself lucky to have gotten stuck with someone who was at least capable of containing his animosity towards the demon agents. 

He said nothing for some time because he didn’t want to provoke Agent Vox, and just focused on his own breathing and heart beats. Hopefully their signal was well received, and there were actually people available who could come to assist, because hours of uncomfortable silence sounded like pure torture. 

In the semi-darkness they sat, with Cheng’s belt flashlight working hard to provide them with a small glow of comfort. Out of the corner of Cheng’s eyes, he’d noticed his negative energy drifting towards agent Vox, dark tendrils reaching, almost as if with a longing to touch. 

He narrowed his eyes and the darkness retreated back to where it originally lingered around him, enlarging the shadow he cast on the wall. “Sorry,” he said, breaking the silence. “I just have this constant stream of negative energy oozing out. I can contain it when I am paying attention, but whenever I am too focused on something else…” Like during battles. “…it expands out a bit more.” Sometimes triple the quantity, depending on how distracted he was. 

“It won’t hurt you.” Nobody seemed to have been wounded by his negative energy when it touched them. If anything, people mostly just displayed discomfort and being touched by its demonic presence. “It just…has a tendency to drift towards people.” Cheng’s negative energy preferred those with strong heart beats and if left unchecked, would surround a human in its darkness. While that wouldn’t cause any pain, he supposed it was pretty creepy and good nightmare fodder for the new agents. 

the silence plagues him more than anything, allowing his mind to run fulltime, and god knows that's never a good idea. even putting the slowly encroaching panic aside, the presence of so much negative energy next to him for almost ten minutes now is bringing back bad memories.

not like he can do anything about it. as much as the voice in his head is screaming at him to get rid of the source, he knows it's a bad idea in every sense of the word. at some point he'd love the opportunity to, but for now he has to keep his bloodlust under wraps.

thankfully, the demon agent was making it easy for jiwon to tolerate his presence. he can appreciate that much, at least. the air seemed to be thinning out, but he could just be imagining it. it's been long enough since the signal was sent out, help should be arriving soon, right?

he jerks around as he feels something get close, and a shiver runs down his spine at the sight of the shadow creeping towards him. his breathing seizes up as he balls his fists, ready to guard or strike, but thankfully, agent castle reacts just in time.

jiwon simply squints at him in the darkness as he speaks, unsure of what exactly to respond with. there's no way in hell he's thanking him for doing what he's supposed to, but it's not like he could leave the situation unchecked and unanswered. he doesn't exactly trust agent castle's words either, especially the part about not hurting him. a demon not hurting him? that's rich.

"just keep it in check," he replies through gritted teeth after a long pause, calming his pulse down once more. is he even able to control it that well? what if it sneaks up on him again? and if he's not prepared this time, then...

a wave of shame washes over him at the realization that he had let his guard down around a demon agent for this all to have happened in the first place. if agent castle had fully intended on harming him, he would've been dead already. fuck— that's embarrassing.

@epsilonmia

good fortune comes in many shapes and forms. an extra serving of your favourite food, a chance encounter with a good friend, and some might even consider surviving another day in this hell hole to be good luck (he would argue it's more of a neutral occurrence than anything).

and such fortune had graced jiwon in the form of a reunion. not particularly one he expected, let alone enjoyed at all, but he's grown to accept it. he had been excited to see seoyun again, even if he looked like he had gone through several decades in the years they've been apart. jiwon almost reaches out to grasps his hand out of habit, but seoyun's cold stare had stopped him in his tracks. right—they weren't dumb little kids on grand adventures anymore.

after the initial awkwardness faded into indifference, jiwon made several attempts to rekindle the friendship they once had. he was still naive back then, burning from the desire to do the absolute most in every way possible, but as with everything else, he quickly found out that the world will never work in his favor.

and now, in some fucked up twist of fate, he finds himself barely able to contain his panic as a loud, resounding crack had sounded out after his fist met seoyun's chest.

“huh?”

seoyun had instructed him to not hold back, that his enhanced durability would negate whatever strength jiwon had gained after the awakening, and jiwon, the fool, took it to heart. perhaps he had been venting his frustrations out during the sparring match, throwing punches with an intent he hadn’t been able to direct at humans before. it’s a lot, after all, with everything that’s happened, then finding out someone you considered to be one of your closest friends doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. 

but even with his inexperience, he could tell that that wasn't suppose to happen. his body is heavy with shock and fear, unwilling to move towards seoyun as guilt quickly floods his mind. he drags a foot forward, however, and breaks out of the trance-like state—one after another, and before he knows it, he's beside seoyun on the ground.

"i didn't mean to-" the words escape his mouth faster than his brain could process anything. "i mean- fuck. are you alright?" of course he isn't. what should he do? should he call for help? or should he be helping seoyun up? that's probably not a good idea, right? moving with potentially broken bones? shit.

seb laughs. right. the cafeteria. “understandable mistake. even after four years i sometimes get this room in particular confused for the cafeteria,” he plays along, lips quirking up in the slightest hint of a smile that fades soon enough. he stretches his arms above his head, practiced, running through the same stretches he’s done for years.

he hasn’t been here long enough to do any substantial training himself. if jiwon didn’t arrive, he probably would’ve just auto-piloted some weight training or gone and practiced his melee combat so he doesn’t get rusty. maybe it’s better to have company, though.

he laughs again. “if only you applied yourself that much to your training,” he jokes, though jiwon is doing fine. he did well on his own team and is still doing well from what he hears. if jiwon wants to dish it, however, seb will serve it back– at least for a while. “it’s good to see you,” he adds eventually, gaze growing warmer and less playful.  

soon, however, seb raises an eyebrow right back at jiwon. “what are you insinuating?” but he’s only teasing once again. he knows jiwon doesn’t mean any harm or any doubt in seb’s abilities by the question. well, he thinks so, anyway. jiwon is still standing, surviving to be promoted to a junior agent and longer, so seb was at least strong enough to train him well.

“i should probably be the one asking you that, shouldn’t i? i’m old now…you’re young and still capable of learning so much,” he playfully laments. he and jiwon are only a few years apart, even if it seems like lifetimes separate them. this world has a way of aging people, making every additional year lived hard-won and feeling like multiple.

“we can spar if you want. i’m kind of curious to see what you’ve got, junior agent vox.”

jiwon rolls his eyes at seb's retort. it's fair enough that he gets this energy in return, but it doesn't make hearing it any easier. "i've eaten more meals in the training rooms than the cafeteria," he confesses for absolutely no reason. always a bad habit of his to spout nonsense unprompted.

"i'll have you know i'm only still a junior because i haven't been here long enough," he wrinkles his nose, lowering himself down to stretch. "i'd be a senior with or without any extra training." he doesn't know that at all, but if the criteria for a promotion was based solely off strength and performance on the field, then he shouldn't be that far off.

jiwon chuckles playfully at seb's reaction to his taunt, lifting his head just enough to peek at the senior agent. "oh, don't be so hard on yourself. i'm sure the old bones can still take a few more missions."

and with a quick hop, he gets back on his feet.

@miajuwon

a familiar face, one he used to look forward to seeing, perhaps tainted with feelings of hurt and betrayal. the last time jiwon remembers seeing this face, it was twisted with scorn, eyes filled with pain at something the boy could only theorize about. not that he did, as back then he had simply taken it as juwon's true feelings towards him, that juwon had simply played him for a fool. for what reason? jiwon wouldn't know. the absolute lack of closure for their relationship left him with only empty questions and an ache in his heart.

so when he sees this familiar face across the room, features sharpened by time and with age, but still recognizable, he struggles to contain the stiffness that threatens to overtake his body. there's a moment of disbelief as a lump forms in his throat, but he pushes it all aside when the unbelievable happens. juwon smiles.

"hwang juwon," he addresses, moving towards him instinctively. there's an odd burning sensation in his body. after all this time, this is what it's come to? "what are you doing here?"

seb thinks too much most of the time. it’s both a blessing and a curse. if he didn’t, he might not be a senior agent; he thinks through every strategy, always going over missions in his head at the end of the day, thinking about where he could improve and where the members of his team could improve so they can always learn and grow. he thinks about people and why they are the way that they are, and how he can help them to the best of his ability. he thinks about meia, and their cause, and its importance.

if he didn’t, he would probably sleep more. he might not constantly wonder if his brother and sister would be proud of him– if he’s done enough for them, to honor the legacy they should’ve had, to make up for failing them. most days, he thinks they would be. that’s just how yooyoung and yoojung were. yoojung was proud of him even when he didn’t do anything, but then seb wonders why it doesn’t make him feel better. he wonders where yooyoung and yoojung would be today if they didn’t meet such a cruel fate– a fate that he’s sure he could’ve prevented most days, if things we just a little different.

when he thinks too much, like he does today, waking up in the early hours of the morning and unable to fall back asleep, he gives up and goes to train. it’s his default. fight the growing pit in his stomach with something useful. fight the guilt with growth.

sometimes it’s with others, and sometimes he needs the time alone. he spends so much of his days training younger agents, after all. it’s nice to have some peace and quiet.

it’s nice to see a familiar face too, though, especially if it’s been too long. he laughs at jiwon’s question. “just…training, you know, the point of this room?” he teases. jiwon looks tired. it is pretty early, so seb understands.

he almost makes a joke along the lines of yeah, i was starting to think you died, but it feels a bit too dark. instead he settles on, “yeah, what’s up? have you been avoiding me?” and he grins, obviously joking. “you know me. training baby agents. training myself.” trying not to die. “the usual.”

"training— right," jiwon nods. well, no shit. it was a dumb question to begin with. "could've sworn this was the cafeteria," he kicks his bag to the corner of the room now that he isn't the only one present, not wanting to create more clutter.

he eyes the weight rack, but decides against his usual training regimen in favor of something less stressful. the weariness from the previous day's activities still weighs heavy on his bones, and he doesn't suppose putting more stress on them would help. in fact, he should probably be resting right now, but he's never been one for leisure. what's another microtear to add on to the thousand others, right?

(he feels the cold stare of a medic send chills down his back.)

"oh yeah, totally," he shoots back, running a hand through his hair and pushing his bangs out of the way to put his cap on. can't have his hair in the way. "memorized your schedule just to plot out how to avoid you the best i can." he doesn't even know his own schedule that well.

he's always liked messing with seb, even if it initially stemmed from a place of rebellion. a younger jiwon, too feisty to respect authority—nothing much has changed, really. he's just better at hiding it now. you can only sit through so many reprimands before you learn the rules of a corporate lifestyle (at least, that's what it feels like to him).