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@ncxicus
[ HAN SO-HEE, SHE/HER, CIS WOMAN ] — [ MINJEONG PARK ] is a child of [ NEMESIS ] with the power of [ EMOTION MANIPULATION ] . they were born in [ 1996 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2020 ] . with the change, they [ ARE TRAINING IN ] the [ BUSINESS ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ SLEEPING AROUND & PICKING FIGHTS AS A HOBBY ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ SUN ] building .
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:// SPENCER, NICK !
He can’t help it. He laughs. She’s entirely right, and he hadn’t even realized they were the exact same words he’d started one of their last conversations with nearly a year ago until she’s pointed it out, and a dry chuckle escapes him that turns into two or three. Gods, it’s stupid, it’s not funny. But it is, and he’s too tired, too weirdly nostalgic in her apartment to stop the sound from crawling out of his ribcage and finding its old home. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts, like it’s an act of aggression to laugh in front of her, and he shakes his head to get it out of his system. “You’re right, I, uh, I should choose my words better.” That small, strange laugh does something to him, like it’s dusted off some of the nerves and reset his bones to remember what it feels like to be near her again. Normal, whole. How much of himself had he given up just to keep his distance? Could he point to the exact moments it went from anger to fear to despair? Did it matter? Nick looks over to her again and sees his family. All the trouble between them— the feelings, the words, the weapons— they do matter. It matters what he felt for her, what she did to circumvent it, and what he did in return. But they don’t matter more than what they are to each other, beneath it all. He’s been so tired, so restless, so empty. He can’t find it in him to fight. It feels like a fist tightening around his throat as he tries to muster the will to get past the hurt and the cobwebs of their shared history to say what needs to be said. There’s no way to do it without reopening wounds, a pain like broken bones in every part of his body. “You died.” Nick’s voice is small, and a tremor seems to go through his hand, but he holds her gaze. “The both of you. You both died that night— one of the nights, one of the versions. That, uh, that one didn’t stick, thank the gods, but, I… I watched it happen, and I remember it, and… And it was my fault, so. So, I just…” He finally breaks eye contact, some faraway look in his eye as he tries to remember anything else other than the image of that night in his memory. "I’m sorry.” He can’t even be sure which piece of the shattered picture frame he’s apologizing for.
nick’s laughing, and she’s not sure if there’s insults to be felt or solace to be found. minjeong hasn’t heard it in months, she thinks nobody else for that matter. she lets the moment go, refuses to hint at a grin that sound wants to bring to her lips. at the end of this, he still wants to talk, and there’s apprehension to be had. her guts were right, because he rips a bandaid she had no idea was covering a wound. for once, she listens. the gravity of his words making it impossible not to, anyway. had it be her in this situation, with that knowledge, her actions wouldn’t have been the same as his, even though she knows how much more easier it is to avoid the terrors altogether than it is coming face to face with a ghost. forgiveness is the right path ahead, even if she doesn’t know how to walk it so suddenly. ❛ fuck, nick, ❜ minjeong sighs, fractional hits of relief that her mouth hasn’t forgotten how to speak the syllables of his name yet. there’s shock enough of learning two of nemesis’ flock almost bit the fucking dust, mixed with the delivery and the timing of it being brought up. what is she even supposed to say, it’s been so long, and she didn’t even remember any of what had happened like him. only heard of what happened to others through anyone that couldn’t stop talking about it for days. but why should he apologize for something she doesn’t even have a clue about. gods, nick, that’s why sometimes not everything needs to be fucking talked through. but she’s not that heartless when it comes to him, has a head to understand the weight he’s been carrying alone on his shoulders. while minjeong doesn’t want an apology — never cared for one — she won’t send his away when he’s finally coming back to her. clueless as to what the adequate reaction to this should be, however. ❛ so you just acted like we were actually dead ? ❜ it comes out as incredulous, but also . . relieved ? something about that reasoning doesn’t sound too smart to her, yet something about the reason for his disappearance being so far removed from the initial break brings her hope that they can move past it. except that it’s not a kind way to accept his sorry. so, instead of taking her previous seat, minjeong tries to leave her hostility that might still be coming out of her at bay. there’s a sure step forwards, brown eyes chasing blues as she does a subtle dip. she’s alive, he should see it. ❛ i’m not, okay ? we’re not dead, we’re here and we mi— ❜ only nick could make her talk when she had no interest in doing so. ❛ that version of the night was not on you, stop thinking it was. ❜ she doesn’t hold it against him, she hopes it’s enough to make him understand.
:// SPENCER, NICK !
Nick realizes he should have prepared more. The both of them are both so volatile, there should have been some sort of bomb diffusion squad, or any kind of protection to keep them from just opening their mouths to spout more vitriol when they don’t want to actually say how they feel. But here he stands, frozen for a minute at just the sight of her, wishing even just a little bit that they would have seen each other again and forgotten all of the animosity behind them. He’s sure they both have their reasons to feel betrayed and hurt, but he can’t imagine that it’s still worth it. Missing her, missing them both, it’s too much. But it’s too much to admit that so easily, too. He wants to scoff at her first remark, but just raises a brow like he gets it. The passive aggression is both hurtful but weirdly comforting, like it’s one thing that he can at least expect, a color on Minjeong that’s entirely familiar. “We need to talk,” he says finally, definitively, like there’s no room for argument because for once there really isn’t. He wants to say more, How are you, I missed you, It’s been too long, but he can’t imagine those are things she wants to hear right now, even if he could somehow manage to rip them from inside his chest. “I saw Kennedy,” he offers as the start of an explanation. “I promised them I’d talk to you. Try to, at least.” Partly because he’s surprised Minjeong hasn’t told her sibling why everything went sideways, but Nick fears if he opens outright with that, she really will slam the door in his face.
❛ that ended so well last time. ❜ minjeong isn’t one to talk, but nick really should pick his words carefully. no, really, she might have fucking ptsd from ‘ we need to talk ’, if the gulp she tries to hide the moment it hit her ears is any indication. she had no plan to invite him in, not really. not because she’s upset — it was more pettiness to follow him up in his ignoring game than anything, the rage itself had stopped about two weeks after it all happened. she just doesn’t know how to react to him anymore, or well, doesn’t know if he’s the same he was, if her old reflexes still apply to him. but then he says the one name they both can’t stay indifferent to, and she can’t help the sigh heaving past her lips, her door swinging open as she retreats back in. he knows how to invade her, doesn’t need her permission. ❛ you don’t need to talk to me to talk to them. ❜ if there’s still any anger left, this would be the root. she did her part knowing it would give her sibling all the space in the world, but he’s been making himself so small, he’s impossible to find. kennedy didn’t deserve the cold shoulder. minjeong only ever wishes he could carry on with her, but leave them out of this. ❛ acting like a child with me, i get it. but kennedy ? they didn’t deserve that, nick. ❜ it doesn’t sound like she’s receptive to this conversation. mostly because she isn’t, but she’ll give it a try, for her sibling’s sake. she drops the pen she’s been holding on the table, takes this as a short moment to ground herself, to take the focus away from how weird it feels to have him stand in her living room like a stranger.
:// SONG, BLAIR !
the turn of conversation is quick, fingers tapping deftly on the table. she wears a feigned look of boredom, like she can’t be bothered to find a retort for minjeong’s careful needlings. it’s nothing she isn’t already used to, having borne the burden and brunt of far worse. it’s too simple to say that she hates minjeong. no, it’s something far deeper than a surface - level loathing, more complex than one - layered resentment. it takes root in the pit of her stomach, spreading like venom through her veins ; her lips tingle with it, like static under the surface, an urge she aches to touch. it’d be nice to know what it feels like, just once. ❛ i don’t know where else to go, minjeong. ❜ a confession in lieu of an answer, honest all the same. she wouldn’t be here if she had somewhere else to go, if there was another means to the end. then again, maybe it was always meant to happen like this. maybe the game was always supposed to stop here. ❛ and i don’t want to go anywhere else, either. ❜
she doesn’t care for the divulgence, though she can’t act as if she’s disappointed in the all - talk - no - show again — it’s blair, it would’ve been shocking to get action minjeong won’t have to initiate herself. if she wanted her to turn around, maybe she would’ve laughed at the words. maybe she would’ve given advice on how the other should grow a spine and stop the self martyrisms. but that would be counter - productive, hades daughter haven’t been in her sheets for a while, it has potential to be a worth last time. ❛ you’ll have to. i’m not fucking you in my office, blair. ❜ that much sure is clear, however. she’s no romantic, but come on now, a bit of decorum. if blair needs her like she’s claiming, a few minutes to walk back isn’t much of a chore. minjeong takes a second to look her up, down, up again. it’s easy to finally get up and walk around the table, stroking back blonde hair behind an ear and slowly, deliberately plucking the lollipop that’s been distractively moving from the pleading mouth and into hers. ❛ so you know we taste the same. ❜ consolation to the burden of a power the girl’s got. better blair than her, minjeong’s always thought. would’ve added to a whole other body count if not.
:// SONG, BLAIR !
❛ you do realize that half the time, i’m not actually looking for you, right ? you just happen to be there. ❜ the wrong place at the wrong time. wrong girl, wrong time. lips press to a thin line, her unamusement palpable. the absence of care leaves her feeling cold, chilled to the very bone, yet she doesn’t falter under the weight of minjeong’s stare. ❛ i’m already here, minjeong. you don’t need to butter me up. ❜ yet, it’s an accurate summation. she knows how this looks, a flower having grown a thorn or two, a girl with sharp teeth. it’s pretty, she supposes. ❛ i’m tired of being the . . . good girl. it’s overrated, okay ? and what do i have to show for it ? ❜ she turns from minjeong for a moment, lazily dragging her finger across the table that separates them. there’s something dangerous about a girl with nothing left to lose, nothing more to gain. innocently, she lifts her chin. ❛ i want to stop thinking for a bit. stop . . . feeling all of this for a bit. i thought you could help. ❜
❛ that’s an awful lot of time to blame on karma, blair. ❜ but she’ll digress, one’s misfortunes do make her good ones. the results are there, she doesn’t care much if she’s won them by an inch or a mile. ❛ why not, you wear red so well on your cheeks. ❜ she won’t miss an opportunity if offered on a silver platter. blair is there, after all. sought her out, knew what to expect ; at least minjeong offers her consistency through the evident change phasing her. crosses one leg over the other, leaning back against the back of her chair, twirling her pen between her fingers, knowing grin sitting like an insult on her lips. minjeong’s enjoying this, that even in her position, blair came to her of all people to help. sure, it’s min’s brand of help, but she’s not the only willing and able to break her back if asked. no matter what the new blonde tries to say, minjeong doesn’t have to do anything to tighten her hold, blair does it for her. ❛ show me, ❜ she is curious as to how far blair can go when asked, how badly does she mean it when she wants to stop being that good girl minjeong knows she’ll always be. but it’s no fun to spoil the ending, blair will figure it out through another failure. ❛ one good reason why i should help you. ❜
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:// SPENCER, NICK !
@ncxicus ; location: minjeong’s apartment
He doesn’t really even think before he’s at her doorstep. He’s walked the path to her apartment too many times before, he could do it with his eyes closed. It’s autopilot leading him there while the rest of his mind is too busy second guessing itself and fighting what might be the first symptoms he’s ever felt of anxious panic. His breath comes short, the edges of his vision blur almost imperceptibly, and he can’t shake the slight buzz in his hands that causes them to clamp together despite trying to flex them back to normal. Funny. Nick’s been training to be a hero fighting monsters for the better part of the last couple years, but nothing has ever scared him like this has. Aside from that night in Colorado. Still, beneath all of the fear sits something bigger. Something he doesn’t want to think about or admit, but it sits there like a thorn lodged deep beneath his ribs, unable to be removed. Eight months. He misses them.
Nick stands outside her door now, one hand in his pocket as calloused fingers run over the hard edges of his keys. One of them, mixed between the others on his keyring, opens this door. He won’t lie and say he hasn’t thought about pulling it out and trying his luck, pretending like everything’s back to normal and he’s walking into the same old days, waiting to be greeted by his best friend. But that’s not an option today. Instead, he knocks, and he waits for the door to open.
some days are just better working from the apartment to avoid starting a full on war with the whole business department. not that she cares about chaos, but shit has to get done, and if she doesn’t want peter on her ass, he’ll have to deal with the paperwork she’s bringing back with her. anthropoteras aren’t much of a new thing anymore, but fuck does it still cause a headache in penning out how valuable it can be to nemean lion when she doesn’t believe a fucking word of it herself. reading all of this and ruffling through the scattered pages, trying to make sense of new deals, fixing the incompetence on some of it, that takes so much of her attention that she completely misses the footsteps coming in the hallway and stopping right in front of her door. so of course, she’s startled by the knock, hopes whoever it is doesn’t hear the jump in her breath, only the annoyed groan that follows as she makes her way to see who it could be.
she’s not expecting anyone, and she doubts it’s kennedy with their hands full. all ready to cuss out whoever it is that came to bother her — unannounced visit pisses her off —, minjeong opens with an irritation on her face that fades for unusual shock. every time she sees his face, it’s only a blur in passing when he exits the room she steps into. to see it so defined now, so clear, it’s jarring. what the hell is he doing here. minjeong almost slams the door shut, wants to with her whole being, but her hand clinches to the knob, making her arm so rigid a simple swing feels like it could break it. is he really standing there ? this place is turning her crazy, but not enough to hallucinate things. but he hasn’t been here in months, today is no special than any others. there’s a lot on her mind ; she’s missed seeing him in her doorway. why is he there. how long as it been. why does he think it’s okay for him to show up like this. none of it come out, or it would be all at once. ❛ you’ve got the wrong door. ❜ it has to be, why else would he stand on ground zero of his own personal plague if not by mistake.
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
That is quite rude, and Kaia predicted nothing less. It does bother her to know Minjeong well enough to soften a moment from adversarial to humorous, but Kaia also suspects more unexplored depth to her. Discovering it was never her intention or desire, but Kaia can acknowledge it quietly. A smirk just as benign sits on her lips, shoulders rising in a weak shrug. Minjeong’s loss. Guilt tugs pathetically at the scarring lash on her hand, a reminder of their volatility that should keep Kaia on edge. But Kaia draws up one knee for a more comfortable seat, her arm draping over the cap as the other leg extends and falls open naturally. Whatever Minjeong might be capable of, it is nothing Kaia can’t handle or match. Another bite, and she calculates. Tentatively, her right hand hovers over her chin, all fingers but her thumb curling twice. “Charming,” she recites, rolling her eyes for sarcasm, albeit less emphatically than normal.
that’s not a no, and it’s enough for minjeong to keep pushing without the threat of an imminent retreat from the other demigod. it has to be cautious work to maintain this oddly civil flow, but it doesn’t feel like an effort to keep it this way. unsettling simplicity peeks over their shoulders as it did the lapse of an evening, and gods know how minjeong selfishly misses moments where it doesn’t feel necessary to bear herself as a knife. it’s not the same as what she lost, but it’s something. her approach isn’t exactly cautious, however. the shuffle up makes it seem like she’s had enough, that she would finally be giving kaia the win she desperately wants, but the few steps towards the bag makes it clear that she’s not walking away. no, instead minjeong stops at arms reach, crouches back down to ground level and points once more. ❛ charming enough for one ? ❜ she’ll reach for it herself if that’s too much work for kaia to extend her own hand.
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
Her candor lures Kaia to snicker. Ridiculous, this interaction is, but the amusement underneath reverts her to the child she’s accused of being. Stubborn and proud, lost in a game of chicken, except no one will interrupt by calling her home for dinner or bedtime. Since they first met, this tournament spilled across months. Kaia wonders if she’ll ever tire. But Minjeong’s pollution in Kaia’s space of nourishment is only temporary. Tonight wouldn’t be the first time she slept at the base of a tree. She’s laid her head on worse places. Kaia scoffs lightly before her bite, and nectar drips down her chin. Using the paler underside of her free wrist, she cleans the wet trail and chews annoyingly slow, using every excruciating second to swallow and digest before she informs the Nemesis daughter, “I can’t hear you.” A lazy, indulgent tap at her collarbone, beneath one of her devices. Kaia should have thought of this before. Starved of sound, Kaia can appreciate Minjeong’s appearance without that mouth in the way. She follows the stab of her pointer finger, finally releasing a curt rumble of laughter. “Say please.”
minjeong has no plan to stay and stargaze, eyes persisting on something else, anyhow. reluctance to give up is going to have its limit, but the cadence isn’t unsustainable yet. she thinks. time doesn’t mean much, minutes are a concept turning eight and eighty into an awful blur at the moment. words are clearly moving kaia’s lips. but minjeong is the one missing any sound emitting out of them. pardon her for being too caught up in her own loud thoughts saying she could do both a better and sloppier job at cleaning kaia’s mess. she’s got some hunger for a multitude of things, unsurprisingly. the semblance of enjoyment slipping out of the demigod sitting more than armlength away is enough to bring her out, not missing a beat for the answer. that word hasn’t rolled off her tongue in quite some time, nothing in her bag is enough to break the streak. besides, kaia can’t hear her anyway, she has nothing more to say. but, anyone can read the rise of a middle finger, especially hard to miss when accentuated by black ink and red scratch at the base. with the smile behind the gesture combined, that ought to be enough of a please.
:// SONG, BLAIR !
it’s almost poetic, she thinks, the way she walks into the fire without a care for being burned, a phoenix rising from the smoldering of ashes. it’s daniel in the lion’s den, defenseless. she scoffs, cherry lollipop settled in the puffed - out side of her cheek ; if she gets burned, it’s not as though it matters. what else does she have to lose ? with her history of unchecked naivety in tow, her sympathetic nature bled dry, she finds herself sinking, a chip on her shoulder ever - present and a weariness clinging to her bones. ❛ i thought i’d find you here, ❜ the edge to her voice sounds foreign to her own ears, no longer meek and mild. she wonders if minjeong will even recognize her. ❛ and i thought about what you said. a lot about what you said, actually. blonde does suit me. i think i’m going to . . . keep it for a while. see how it goes. ❜ contempt manifests in the slight raise of her brow, the single tap of her heel. yet she found her way here for a reason. there’s no one else she’d rather see. ❛ you know why i’m here, minjeong. ❜ / @ncxicus
one thing about blair is that she’ll crawl back to her. she begs minjeong to leave her be, yet the nemesis daughter doesn’t remember twisting her arm to be interrupted by the accustomed drag in the steps against the floor. ❛ sweetheart, i could be anywhere, you’d find me. ❜ the missing tears at the throat is the most significant difference in the all too familiar scenario, that brings her head up in curiosity. minjeong doesn’t grow tired of that game, but some variety is making this indefinitely more interesting already. it’s not everyday, or any day, that she’ll hear blair come to an agreement with her. to most people’s shock, minjeong knows how to tell a truth or two. shameless eyes study once again the hair, the edge, the demeanor. bitterness isn’t for everyone, especially for someone as sugary as the hades offspring, but blair wears it well. ❛ i doubt it’s only to talk about how pretty you look. ❜ no matter the changes, nothing could turn blair a drastic narcissist. ❛ i’ve got my idea, but i want to hear you say it. ❜ there’s two options, but minjeong isn’t feeling like guessing.
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
Nature overwhelms Kaia’s senses, the grass clawing at her ankles, the branches offering their fruit, the last lick of summer heat hovering under her nose. Distractedly ignoring the words, the smile deepens Kaia’s frown. Lounging in the gardens is one of her favorite past times, but she’d prefer to share it with an embroidery hoop instead of that face. Her eyes narrow in lieu of asking for an echo. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Kaia barks; it’s obvious that Minjeong wants to laugh, presumedly at her. She tugs her hearing aids out of her ears, letting them dangle as she presses her spine against the trunk. The silence is eerie, empty, but Kaia won’t miss anything important. Sight alone will alert her of whenever Minjeong is leaving. Her hand disappears into her bag, materializing an apricot that she’s picked. “You should have brought a snack,” she drawls before biting into it.
❛ i am, actually. ❜ there is satisfaction nested in pulling the other down to ground level without doing much. kaia lazing against a tree might be a more victorious sight than watching her take off. minjeong doesn’t retain the sneer moving her mouth when she sees the hearing aids coming out. that won’t discourage her will to win another battle today. she’ll just stop wasting her voice. the most insulting thing is to see she was still empty - handed. her stomach won’t growl, she’s not starving, won’t make herself uncomfortable since that would only disprove the point. though, today’s lesson is begging her to pick at the setting scab, so she is irked. not the best attitude to learn. ❛ you should stop being a bitch and toss me one. ❜ both should do better, apparently. minjeong doesn’t know how to sign all that, so she simply points the bag, daunting glow in her eyes.
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:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
“Couldn’t have you to find out the hard way,” Kaia snarks. “So you’re welcome.” Remnants of blood rusts under her nails. The satisfaction of Minjeong biting into the decayed flesh of a fruit is a missed opportunity, but harming the tree weighed on her conscience. She doesn’t recognize her body when it isn’t raked with shame over her actions. As she stands, unmoving, Kaia almost turns when it appears Minjeong will finally exit, but she takes a long blink as Minjeong sprawls over the peach tree’s roots. What the fuck? “Really?” Kaia complains, frowning. Appears so, but she won’t be caught agreeing that this battle may bleed into the night-time. Sila will have to prepare dinner on her own, or with the help of her idiot gods-ibling. Tossing her bag at the base of the apricot tree, she lowers herself too, dirtying the seat of her jeans with loose dirt. She’ll be a hypocrite if it meant standing by her word. “You’re impossible.”
❛ yes, really. ❜ she has nothing better to do, nowhere to be, nobody to run to. the sound of complaints ring like a celebration. finally, she’ll get the last word in, break this damn stubbornness with a better one. but instead of a checkered flag at the finish line, there’s another fabric waving in front of her, follows the bag on its way down with a surprised flash in her eyes. she didn’t think kaia would leave, but she also didn’t think she would literally make herself at home. ❛ have you met you ? ❜ this time, she’ll only conceal the laugh, but she can’t do much about the smile. this is utterly ridiculous, bordering on childish. she hadn’t expect kaia to follow through like this. ❛ you can’t bare to lose, can you. ❜ doing what it takes to bring a victory over is something overly familiar, and minjeong’s chin tilts at the comparison. she can respect it.
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
“I remember you lonely.” That is more difficult to ricochet back to Kaia, unless Minjeong’s fond of repeating herself. Even when their communication is strained, Kaia always has her sister. Being alone, haunting Nemean Lion’s grounds, is Kaia’s own doing. She fights a sigh that builds in her chest, but she’s determined not to show any fatigue. The sun may dip under the horizon once this is settled, and Kaia is stubborn enough to wait that long. Heels digging into the grass, her roots sink into the ground. “It’s not my fault you chose wrong,” she quips with a shrug, rolling her eyes. Her arms fold across her chest, her own bounty bouncing against her hip. “You’re stupid enough to find out.”
she’s trying not to be, rather hard when someone keeps dragging that knife, but she’d never expect anything else from kaia. this isn’t going anywhere, stuck in a circle neither will dig further. something new always arises, although minjeong’s patience is running thinner. ❛ right, should’ve known yours was the rotten batch. ❜ gaze gets distracted by movement, lets it fall again over kaia’s closely acquainted figure, trying to read the stance before traveling back up. unbudgeable, or so she wants to pretend. ❛ you’d be an idiot to let me. ❜ minjeong’s pettiness can match kaia’s obstinacy. if the other wants to stand tall, she’ll go to what she knows in going low. literally. breaks the stalemate time to locate herself, taking a few steps back only to pick her spot, sitting down at the bottom of the peach tree, back against its bark. ❛ looks like we’ll be here a while. ❜
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
None of Minjeong’s words escape Kaia. Their close proximity verges on familiar, Minjeong’s enunciation memorized, and she confronts the illusion of many choices. “So could you.” Kaia can’t retreat when her space is subject to invasion, again and again. Running from her problems never solved them. There were some people on campus who Kaia ran from, who she still can’t bring herself to look in the eye. Yet her gaze never leaves Minjeong’s for a second, pupils cold and uninviting without the fireplace’s reflection. “These are my gardens.” These are her trees, these are her fruit. Her chin lifts haughtily like she’s beating Minjeong to a tired punchline. “It won’t be me who’s leaving.”
❛ i’m bored, or do you not remember. ❜ kaia pleads to know more, it makes her forget the basics. getting a rise out of her is entertaining. but today, it’s not the heated peak that satisfies minjeong’s rumbling restlessness. it’s something in the rare aftermath of the blaze she never gets to see, in the falling ashes they both usually leave unattended as their exchanges never get to properly die down. she can’t leave, not right now, not until she sees this through. ❛ you won’t let me harvest from them, you’ve made your point. ❜ and waiting until she’s not looking might take a while. ❛ is that a promise ? ❜ curious as to how long she can keep it, if at all. the challenge won’t come out hopeful, minjeong can’t let her know she has a favored answer.
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
“Hah, tell that to —,” the sneer abruptly ends when Kaia remembers to whom she’s speaking. Her lips press together to contain the smog that almost escape, infecting herself with resentment instead. She isn’t surprised that Minjeong sees nothing wrong with retaliation. Lineage aside, Kaia received a dose of Minjeong’s vengeful nature. What surprises her is the calming hint of validation that Kaia feels, as if they share a perspective. As if they may actually agree. She represses it, of course, her hawkish gaze apprehensive behind her mask as she closes the openings in her facade that threatened to open. “I can’t imagine why you aren’t well-liked,” she says wryly. When Kaia signs with so much vigor, her speaking becomes sloppy and unfinished from a lack of focus on how she sounds to someone else. Signing is as natural to Kaia as verbal speech is to hearing, so she hardly noticed that she defaulted to signing. Considering Minjeong didn’t flip whatever switch that turned her deplorable, Kaia still doesn’t suspect sudden recognition. Reading her lips in front of the flickering light requires Kaia to shift shifts, angling herself forward. Her anonymity protects her curiosity. There’s no point in dreading how much she desires seeing Minjeong better, if Kaia is not herself. She tries to follow the story as well as she can, aware of the of cadence of her own breathing, the faint tinnitus trilling from her hearing aids, and the splash of orange across Minjeong’s face. A fight, a sibling, malleable feelings. Could Minjeong..detect how others felt? She tries to remember any abilities written on her medical file, but Kaia would take one look at the name and try to trade patients with someone else if Minjeong came up. Fuck. “How malleable?” Kaia asks, her voice feeling dull compared to her usual sharp tone. She’s asking as gently as she knows how, a restraint that she tells herself was instinct or something other than wanting to preserve how vulnerable the other is in this moment. As Minjeong digs deeper into the story, Kaia finds the root and gives it a tug. “Your sibling should be grateful,” she states plainly. That isn’t a flattering picture of a friend that Minjeong painted for Kaia, someone who couldn’t see past himself and understand Minjeong acted out of consideration for her sibling’s feelings. Typical man, directing ire everywhere but inward. Naturally Kaia isn’t sympathetic for his case. “Your friend, however, should grow up and get over it. Nothing is worse than a hero with a bruised ego. Any good sister would do what you’ve done.” This is the only time Kaia will draw a comparison between Minjeong and Sila, a person she despises and a person she cherishes, respectively. And it is only because the act was so selfless — Kaia didn’t know that Minjeong was capable of such things. The pivot to more light-heartedness catches Kaia by surprise, but she appreciates the direction away from vulnerability. “It doesn’t sound like that at all,” she jokes because she thinks she has little authority on what anything sounds like. Kaia challenges herself to let her smirk remain on her face before challenging Minjeong: “And how will you do that from all the way over there?”
❛ very malleable. ❜ you can’t get more lackluster of an answer, but it disguises a small window of contemplation, a few more seconds for minjeong to think. how much does she want to reveal under the pretense of obscurity ? some things are better left unsaid, keep an ace up her sleeve to use later. saying your power is also exposing a way to exploit it, a way to pick at any weaknesses that could ensue. drawbacks don’t have to be revealed, of course, but it barely weighs in the balance here. no, the point is, she doesn’t trust kaia. doesn’t trust the demeter child to let her pry this far into something minjeong herself doesn’t fully understand. and maybe that’s precisely why it’s not too bad of an idea to give into the mistrust. all in the name of not being herself ; minjeong wouldn’t bring this up to anyone, even less kaia. she sure couldn’t make a conversation as bearable — enjoyable wouldn’t be inaccurate either, but let’s not push it — as this one. that’s not minjeong, and that’s certainly not like kaia to know how to use anything but annoyance and aggression in her tone. so why the slower pace, the deeper looks ? ❛ well, sort of. ❜ fuck it. not like she’ll believe her. not like minjeong wants her to do so, anyway. but if kaia can allow herself this new approach, so can she — and just as well. ❛ anything between amplifying an emotion to the point of it bursting or diminishing it completely, i can do it. but only if it’s there. i can’t just, create a feeling. ❜ she wouldn’t want to. hers is already an ability she’d deem useless for most part, had never thought it would’ve had to be used the way she did — never wants to use it, if she could be honest for more than a split lapse in judgment. she’s slipped on a limit, it’s getting too close to others still linked to her godly heritage, that’s enough sharing. ❛ they don’t know. but for how long, i don’t know either. ❜ a reach for gratitude hadn’t been in her mind at all, reason why there’s a scoff along the reaction. minjeong’s doesn’t want them to know, didn’t want this to come to light, what she does best left in shadows. no stranger to repercussions of her actions, she’ll handle whatever bullshit this stirs, but it’s a fucking hassle she would’ve gone without. minjeong should know better than to aim for something good. that’s why the assumption that she could be a sister — a good one at that, leaves her a bit too preoccupied to realize she’s fallen speechless to arising questions plaguing her mind. kaia would know about that, sisters, what makes a more than decent one. it’s hard to not see that shared bond with sila, minjeong’s poked at it a few, extremely risky times. ‘ would you ? ’ are two words sitting on the tip of a tongue that isn’t familiar with the imprint of her own teeth. maybe restraint saves her, she could’ve lied her way out of this immense tell, but that probably would’ve resulted in a guarded kaia ; she’s not mad at this current version. so she’ll wonder, purposely let the moment go to be replaced by something far more comfortable. all too easy to take the offering, never shy, never backs from anything. the shift is almost too quick, but there’s an expert precision to how she slides herself closer ; just enough for both black fabrics to leave no gap on their seat — close to catch subtleties of the shampoo she used in her curls — curls close enough that if she only lifted her hand, she could reach. she doesn’t, hands showing great discipline. but minjeong does let her head fall back, tilts her head sideways to her, grin all too noticeable. ❛ is this close enough for you ? ❜ it’s not for her.
:// SPENCER, NICK !
“Bullshit,” Nick seethes back, feeling himself ignited by the way she spits venom, but he can’t say he doesn’t understand her— it feels good to sink your fangs in. “This isn’t for me, this is for you,” he throws back to her. “You don’t want the problem, so you ignore it. So you never have to see it, not so we can be worry-free— or whatever fucking lie you wanna tell me.” Maybe that’s what stings the most, that Minjeong, the person he trusted most in his life, would lie to him. That is, until she answers his question finally, and that knowledge hurts more than he expects. He stands there watching her, seeing the bare honesty in her eyes, recalling only a moment later that it was honesty he’d forced. The pain starts in his chest, for knowing with certainty now what she’d done, flashing in his eyes at the same time. And even though it was the answer he’d feared, it still catches him off guard like a shot in the dark, and Nick feels the most vulnerable he ever has in his life, maybe for the first time. He isn’t invincible, he isn’t a shining hero impervious to harm or injury. No blood spills on the floor between them, but the wound runs deeper than anything he’s ever endured and he stands broken in front of her until the repercussions of what he’s done catch up with him. He doesn’t have the will or foresight to hide it, and he visibly winces as a searing pain shoots between his temples. When he opens his eyes to look at his best friend again, the evidence of the line they’ve both crossed in front of them, what can he even say?
❛ then tell me what the fuck it is you want to hear, if you think the truth you so desperately want is bullshit. ❜ if he doesn’t believe her, that won’t be one more burden she’ll carry. he wants truth, she’s giving it, but he chooses to not believe it. yes, nick knows her far too well to think her perfectly truthful, but he should know better when she does use honesty. she’s violent when it come to psychological warfare, mind games, manipulation. physicality isn’t her battlefield. but there’s an urge she can’t control as she catches on what he did, uncharacteristically not wanting his pain to soothe out. if there wasn’t any space left to come between them, she can’t help but to put more. ❛ you’re such a fucking egocentric, hypocrite, full of shit asshole — ❜ none of those are meant to hurt, only to get it out of her along each hit her palms push against his chest. all of this, all the grief he’s been giving her up until now, his big words and even bigger attitude about doing what’s right and enough with games. gods, he’s always been such a pretty fucking smooth talker. extremist thinking isn’t on the table ; an eye for an eye just won’t fucking cut it. not when he’s accused her of demolishing it all down on only to turn around and detonate the trusts they’ve built their friendship on. yes, she did the shitty thing first, but it didn’t come out of revenge. not on him, never on him. ❛ congratulations on doing all of this, thinking you could go back to jerk off later to being the bigger person, only to step as low as you’ve ever been so far. i know what i am, but you can’t say the same. ❜ if he got here, she knows just how much further he can go, where this all leads. ❛ you never wanted me to tell you the truth, you wanted to get it out of me. ❜ the sad part for him, is how she was on the verge of telling the exact same thing he’s heard. he’d gotten her in the cables, but he couldn’t wait to take the dirty shot to get back at her. ❛ i hope my lie was worth your truth. ❜ they’re one in the same. spits out the farewell, hopes it resonates worse through his impairing headache.
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:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
A sharp inhale cuts through Kaia’s lips. Arsenal emptied, the bag of fruit she protected from Minjeong weighs heavier on her shoulder. But she won’t let her spine curve when she feels that today’s lovely tryst nears its climax. Motion draws her attention, eyes dropping to Minjeong’s flexed hand, before bouncing back up. She bristles at the audacity of thinking she’s easy to dismiss, but Kaia catches herself wondering how she would have deflected from the only sincere thing she’s told her. “I know more than you think.” Kaia lists them off in her head: that she has little to no family, that she cares about her godly sibling, that she lost one of her closest friends. “And you let me.”
❛ nothing that you wouldn’t have figured out. ❜ kaia’s got eyes minjeong knows unyielding and insistent, observant, looking into them right now without wavering. she only let her know the cause of a fallout that couldn’t be more evident. but she let her. because she was there. ❛ you could’ve left. ❜ could’ve put as much distance as she’d pleased, minjeong didn’t have an iron grip around her wrist, but instead had asked to close some of it. like she’s closed it again today. it’s easier to point out the unexplained behaviors in kaia than to justify her own. they’d agreed on a mistake, maybe minjeong’s had been the bigger one. ❛ like you could leave right now, but you’re not. ❜ she doesn’t have to give minjeong what she wants, so why is she ?
:// DEMIR - ZERHOUNI, KAIA !
“By choice,” Kaia points out. “Unlike you.” She digs a plot to bury her truth, too, unknowingly laying it to rest beside Minjeong’s. Isolation from a language barrier is easy enough to surmount, but Kaia never chose to be revived. At least if she died she wouldn’t contend with dying alone, the driver’s seat vacant. “No one has stayed.” A pang slits open her chest, like a flower breaking through soil. As much as she wants to insist that they aren’t the same, her body contests. “Then stop trying to prove me wrong,” Kaia hisses, exasperated. She won’t specify that she’d rather forget what happened after, or that she doesn’t regret saying that to her. “When you only have one thing left to lose.” Like I do.
❛ you don’t let them. by choice. ❜ kaia doesn’t get to analogize being left behind if minjeong doesn’t get to do the same with being alone. ❛ i’m not — ❜ she has nothing to prove, not to anyone, especially not to her. kaia doesn’t mean that, anyway. why would it matter if she did ? crackling sensation at the flex of her hand serving its purpose, she can’t let words mean anything, can’t hold to that desire of wanting kaia’s words to be true. the only person she wants to prove right is kennedy, but minjeong knows she’s failing. ❛ nevermind, it doesn’t matter, ❜ she sighs, mirroring kaia’s exasperation through exhaustion. ❛ stop thinking you know anything about me. ❜ minjeong’s never had anything to lose, anything hers, not that kaia is to know any of this.