this blog is no longer active, nor a part of gloryhqs due to personal issues with admin 707. if you wish to contact the mun you may find her yeehawing at clownpool.tumblr.com <3
@thegillionaireā || mission 001: SNART AND RORY TAKE THE LAUNDROMAT [aka letās snatch these identities fam]
it was the perfect cover-- he was the current undesignated guardian of snacks, waiting on his laundry to dry. for an added bonus there was actually a set of laundry he had switched over for an unsuspecting customer in their absence, congrats, and just in case there were any doubters in that building. Ā there was no such thing as too cautious anymore. though that idea did conflict with the current mission at hand. argumentative, and with a clenched fist, Han was apprehensive in joining Gilbert for something as simple as identity retrievals. in the past, secret identities were already supplied in a folder, the end no question about it.
but in this case, it was for the entire Syndicate. he supposed Gil needed help carrying a damn briefcase or binder. nothing says camaraderie like joining your favorite torture buddy down the rabbit hole of the black market to gather false documents and the like for wanted mutants of the Sector of Humanity. it wasn't the result he craved, but it was a step in the direction to finding those asshats who flipped his world upside down. footsteps approached, and he tilted his head to the side to address the man. he groaned out his complaint.
"Can we please make this quick?" not that he had anywhere to be, in fact, his willingness to complete said mission was out of sheer boredom from being confined to such a small temporary living space with two people who either wanted to murder each other or make out and Rowan. the only other option he had at his disposal was bothering Min, which would lead him to lay on a leather couch staring at an aquarium while classical music played in the background.Ā
"My patience for idiots has run dry lately, you understand." he sighed, a twinge of spite in his words, as Gil was still not completely forgiven for his refrigerator heists. "We'll have to empty this shit machine of Cheetos or I may die of starvation or has the Grocery Goblin retired for mission night?Ā Ā OR does he apologize while treating his wonderful friend to moldy pancakes after all this?"
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Ā Ā Ā The bar round the corner from her apartment was quiet enough that Min enjoyed going there fairly regularly, it wasnāt too upscale considering it was in Midtown and served reasonably priced drinks, in her opinion. She sat at a tall table, she could see both entrances and keep an eye on the doors to the kitchen and bathrooms from her spot which always put her at ease, even when she was out for recreation she held a cynical view. Lifting the wine glass to her lips, she took a sip of the deep red pinot noir as she reclined on the chair, eyes scanning the room idly.
Ā Ā Ā It was nice to have some peace and quiet, if Ange saw her here he would either scold her for taking a break, or question whether she was okay because she wasnāt at home nor at syndicate HQ. Her eyes rolled automatically at the mere thought of the conversation, the quiet woman was aware that her coworkers thought of her as nothing but a boring workaholic who didnāt know how to have fun. But she just had a different idea of fun, that often involved having no-one else around her so she could actually think calmly. A voice to her right caught Minās attention and she looked at the person stood next to her with vague surprise, sheād been so caught up in her thoughts that sheād completely zoned out. Very unusual for her.
Ā Ā Ā āIām sorry, what did you say?ā
lightning bounced off the windows creating a subtle flashiness to the darkened bar windows, though it went unnoticed to the bar flies inside. the storm wasnāt at all predicted, but the small signs of its beginnings were evident in the tiny rumbles that would soon rattle place. it wasnāt the best bar in town, but it was the closest now with Han, now, having been relocated to Simonās tiny apartments. the bars downtown were much more upscale, and more to his liking closer to his old condo downtown, but this fit just nicely when he needed to escape the tension in that tiny apartment. and while he was more at liberty to drink and be safe to find his way home, he settled on no more that two glasses of scotch for the night.Ā
heād seen Min from the corner of the room, sheād chosen a very obvious spot, one heād have be forced to sit with should they have been undercover or on a job.Ā the immediate conflict stirred inside to go up to her and bother her with nonsense, send her an extra moldy drink, or pretend to be the doting husband as heād typically and nonsensically do, but the broken nose incident changed things. it stirred, in his chest, a twinge of guilt, and a softness for which he never placed in herself. despite how tough sheād always been there was that layer she hid from others. a layer he had been blind to, and a layer she hid form the world. the punch in the face did nothing to provide assurance that he deserved to see this layer. the thoughts of Doves and mayors, and Sectors had all but erased from the mind, the moment she flooded his thoughts.
āI said, howās your nose?ā he tried to offer her a smile, though looking at her clear in the face to examine that spot, all seemed well.Ā āYou really should have Gil rough me up. I still feel like I deserve it.āĀ
Ā Ā Ā Lying on her stomach, Rowan was sharing a fruit salad with her partner in crime and telling him about her troubles. Governer Shell didnāt have much to give in the way of input, but his moral support meant more to the girl than any useless opinions could. Placing a chunk of watermelon in front of the tortoise, she popped a piece into her own mouth and huffed through her noseĀ āI mean, itās like they donāt want me to enjoy any of the summer at all, you know?ā she said thickly, her mouth full of fruit. Governer Shell chomped into his piece and ate it, blinking happily as he did so.Ā āYeah, youāre right, itās for the best. I should stop complaining. Hey, you know youāre a great listener Gordonā she smiled, reaching over and petting his head gently with her fingers before tipping the rest of the fruit into his enclosure.Ā āGot to go little dude, todayās my only free day and Iāve got errands to run. Try not to wreak havoc while Iām gone!ā she blew him a kiss and got up from her position, grabbing her purse and keys and leaving the apartment, giving the animal one final farewell wave.
   Perusing the aisles at the craft store, the girl was wondering which paints she should buy to paint Governer Shells⦠shell with. It was summer after all, and even tortoises deserved a make over once in a while! Pivoting, she misjudged how slippery the tiled floors were for her unforgiving converse and her foot kept on going, taking her down with it.
Ā Ā āOh, sweet, baby, mother of-ā she screeched, unable to vocalise a full sentence in her shock. Time moved slowly as she toppled to the ground, like Gulliver versus the people of Lilliput she didnāt stand a chance against the menace that was gravity. She tried to catch herself by reaching out wildly, but only succeeded in toppling a whole shelves worth of glitter pots and having them cascade over her also, some of them bouncing on the floor and bursting open to add a little finesse to the drama that was occurring.
Ā Ā After what felt like an age, she hit the ground with an audible oof, coated in glitter and visible surprise. She lifted her head up and locked eyes with someone who happened to be in the same aisle, her expression a mixture of amusement and pure shock as she spat a mouthful of glitter out and added a final flourish to her live show.Ā āMan, what a ride!ā she laughed, still laying on the floor, legs splayed awkwardlyĀ ādo ya think you could help me up? I think I twisted my ankle a lil.ā
he was on smoothie run for that adopted niece of his. she must have forgotten about it, it wasnāt at all uncharacteristic of her. -- heād been tracing her movements via the Uncle MacheteĀ Han bracelet heād gifted her for her recent graduation. and while he had reservations for that whole donāt give the kid a trophy for participation sort of deal, since she was currently enrolled in summer classes, it was more for his and Simonās sense of ease. because with Rowan running loose on the streets along with the Doves, Han needed to know she was safe at all times. if not for himself, then for Simon. the four of them Simon, Han, Mimi, and Rowan were slowly and more certainly while cramped in that small 1000 ft apartment, were becoming a dysfunctional, yet loving family.
but that was his reason for being in that small little craft store. otherwise, he wouldnāt have stepped foot, in there. well, then again, as he walked down that aisle of multicolored string, the particular shade of scarlet struck his eye, he had to snatch it real quick for his bulletin board escapades with Gil. tucking the roll of string under his arm, the eyes flew wide at the sight, though he wasnāt at all surprised. though, it ruined his plans for stealing his new craft supplyā¢
he scoffed before, of course, coming to her rescue.Ā āIf you twisted your ankle Simon will panic.ā he held out his hand to her, while showing her smoothie.Ā āYou have to try to walk on it first, and then you get this, okay.ā his mouth contorted as she continued to spew glitter all over his shoes.Ā āRowan, please no. Not the Bottegas.ā he groaned as he gripped the bridge of his nose, but it was too late, and his new focus was on helping her up.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ever since theyād gotten back from the dovesĀ āfacilitiesā, Min could tell that something was off with Han. He wasnāt as childishly irritating, he didnāt purposely try to bother her all of the time and to top it all off he was actually taking their gym sessions seriously, perhaps he was just happy for the company.
Ā Ā Ā Sheād spotted him entering the building whilst she was doing her own solo workout, his brow was clouded with darkness that he probably didnāt realise he was displaying to the world, sheād have to talk to him about that. Sighing gently, she continued her weight routine and made a mental note to try and catch him before he left.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Standing from the bench, she grabbed a sanitising cloth and wiped down all the equipment sheād used, small towel slung over her shoulder casually. The woman glanced around for Han-Jae, but couldnāt see him. Sheād just call him later. Mopping her brow as she headed towards the MMA room, Min had settled on cooling down with a punch routine with the bag and then a jog. Checking her watch as she opened the door, the woman had barely looked up when her journey was impeded, with a fist.
Ā Ā Ā Fire spread from the centre of her face, an explosion of lights behind her eyes and the ominous reverberating crack in her ears as she felt her nose surely break. Surprise caused her to stumble backwards, but she caught herself on the door frame before she could fall. Already surprised and confused eyes locked on the offender, a very scared and sheepish looking Han-Jae Song who was quickly backing away from her. Looking over her shoulder, she noted that no-one had yet noticed the interaction, it had only been going on for a few seconds after all, and she quickly stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.
Ā Ā Ā Eyes locked back on the man, her expression more muted now as her body came to terms with what had happened and the dull aching began. She stepped forwards, making her way past him quickly to inspect the damage to her face in the far mirror.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Blood, a lot of it, her lower jaw was essentially coated in the thick carmine substance. Min glanced down and behind her, to the spotting trail that followed her progress along the floor. Looking back at her reflection, she gingerly pressed against her nose with her fingertips, hissing a wince and biting her lip at the soreness. Heād punched her pretty hard.
Ā Ā Ā āItās definitely brokenā she said finally, pulling the towel from her shoulder and dabbing at her clothes to try and soak up some of the bloodĀ āIām impressed.ā she chuckled, looking at him againĀ āI didnāt think you had it in you. Mr Song.ā
he was still cowering and still backing away, hands up in defeat and planning an exit. a swift one at that. when you punch song min in the face, expect to be brought to your knees. it was a reaction of fear that limited him and kept him from speaking a much needed apology. he was still shocked by his own actions, and he was 100% regretting hitting her in the face. though her speech would break his silence in due time.
he flinched as she walked past him. he was foolish enough to think the doorframe could hold her. and the signs of him getting the ass kicking of his lifetime seemed all but sealed as she shut the door behind him. the sounds of the door hitting itās frame turning his blood cold, as the hair on his arms stood upright on his flesh. he shuddered at the sudden goosebumps. his mind traced back to the many signature moves of Nix, trying his hardest to come up with a plan of defense, though she had already incapacitated his mind with a mere look in her eyes. he thought to just fall to his own knees and ask for mercy, though he had to be a man about it. he groaned loud enough for his voice to echo against gym walls and unused equipment.Ā āMake it quick. Knock me out. Do your worst. I canāt promise I can take it, but Iāll try.āĀ
but to his surprise, she headed to the mirror behind him. his mouth fell open in a quick gasp of relief, and thatās when it finally clicked to help his colleague. a quick set of chuckles fell from his lips. how lucky he was to have dodged a bullet from Nix.Ā
his eyebrows furrowed in sympathy, as he shuffled around for a towel to humbly present to her, though she already had it covered.Ā āB-broken?ā he shook his head,Ā āOh my-- no...ā he tried to help with the dabbing, though his aim was the blood that was trickling down to her jaw. a sigh of a frustrated āNoonaā escaped his lips as his own fingers tenderly moved to trace the, in fact, broken nose.Ā his tone softened, āIām so sorry. I didnāt think I had it in me either. I was just--ā frustrated? getting his anger out? doing as she taught him? he didnāt have an answer.Ā āCan I take you to a doctor? Itās the least I can doā he issued his own hisses to mimic hers, he felt as if he could feel her pain.
The world didnāt start spinning until Simon stood up from his beach blanket and the sand offered his clumsy feet little to no traction as he struggled forward. The alcohol in his body prevented him from caring about the sunburned parts of his skin, the sand wedged in the spine of his book, or his dry tongue in his sandpaper mouth.
His focus centered on Han, whose hair smelled like the salty ocean as he clung to Simonās side. He didnāt know how theyād managed to get in the back of Minās car or up to his apartment without falling. His long legs were practically tangled with Hanās as he nearly tripped over his own feet. Han pushing himself even closer forced Simon to fall to the side, but it still couldnāt be enough to erase the grin from his face. Because Han was here and they were together and safe. What else did he have to complain about?
A lot, actually, but in his current state Simon had difficulty immediately recalling why any of them had mattered.
āIām trying to open the door!ā Simonās voice echoed through the hall. He couldnāt even tell if hehad the right key as he tried to push one into the lock. All the small points and various colors seemed to blur together. Even if he had the right key, his unsteady hand refused to pause long enough to be much help. āāNo, Han, donāt!ā Simon laughed. He attempted to pull his hand away from his friend, but Han managed to pull the keys from him regardless.
Still. Han managed to get the door open so, in the end, Simon failed to see that he had anything to complain about. He nearly fell into his own apartment as they both stumbled inside. While Han flopped onto the couch, Simonās hand thudded against the wall as he used it to steady himself.
āMore wine. Yes. Iāve got it,ā He fiercely nodded his head. Simon stumbled into his kitchen. He opened cabinets at random and slammed them shut when his bleary eyes found no alcohol in sight. āDo you want any chips?ā Simon shouted. He procured a half-eaten bag from one cabinet and left them on the counter before he continued his search from his set of dinner plates, his various coffee mugs and cheap plastic cups, to finally the tallest shelf in his kitchen where he had moved most of his colorful glasses to. Simon pulled out a single, unopened bottle of wine along with two clear glasses before he shuffled back to the couch to greet Han.
āI got this for Sunnyās dad. But she went and told me, āSimon, my dad would die if he drank thatā, so I didnāt give it to him,ā He attempted to explain with slurred words. He shifted the bottle of semillon around for Han to see, then offered him the second empty glass. āBut the way I see it is that his loss is our gain,ā He grinned. āNow stop moving your hand and let me pour. I donāt wanna get any on my couch.ā
the echoās of simonās voice would be lost in the hallway for the rest of the night, but the sound of salty ocean boy laughter would stay locked in his damn heart. beach memories, best memories. while more wine was probably not the best ideas, said a headache from future mornings, the thought failed to emit from the already buzzing brain, as chips were a new idea. a great idea.Ā āYes.ā and he was already ready to get his hands on that bag so he could do a bit of mold magic, the mischievous grin likely painted with a smirk.Ā
he continued to lazily snuggle between couch cushions that would never provide a comfort. while it wasnāt a terrible couch, in fact, no matter how much Han seemed to complain about Simonās poorly decorated apartment, he quite loved that couch. he shifted, and contorted against the furniture before ultimately giving up. ever since heād returned from the Sector, it was hard to find comfort in anything but the cold hard ground. heād gotten used to the idea that it was all he deserved, his body had agreed with that.
āWhites are horridly underrated.ā and he was intending on opening the bottle because it was just in his nature to try and out do his friend like that, but instead he was met with a glass. he held it unsteadily as Simon worked on his pour, to which Simon complained, and he scoffed back a snarky reply in regards to the couches needing a new splash of color. though the eyes beamed up at his friend, admiring the tall. that wretched but blessed quality.
āDid you forget the chips? No matter. Just sit.āĀ
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wifey ā if he could ever be so lucky to take her last nameĀ
tell me what you want
ė ė¤ ģ¤ ģ ģģ“
tell me what you want
ėź° ģķė ź±“
youāre my real one
ė ė¤ ģ¤ ģ ģģ“
tell me what you want
ėź° ģķė ź±“
canāt you be my wifey
canāt you be my wifey
eyes nose lips ā there were features that haunted his dreams, thanks Julian
Please fade fade, fade, fade to black
But the nightmares come back
Because your eyes, nose, lips
Every look and every breath, every kiss
Still got me dying
ķģ (HANGSANG)Ā ā bg music for when they find francis and the fuckers that hurt them
ķģ With my dawg, right
ķģ With my thug, right
ķģ With my dawg, right
Smash on the street Smash on the street
When Iām cruisinā down damn airport
ė“ ģ¹źµ¬ė¤ź³¼ ė¹ķźø° ķź³
Everyday iām so turnt up with my boys
Everyday iām so turnt up with my dawg
ėģ źø°ģ§ģ (THE BADDEST FEMALE) ā a song fit for the mushroom queen
This is for all my bad girls around the world
Not bad meaning bad but bad meaning good you know
gucci ā even her heart was made of gucci
I feel like Gucci, baby
I'm a bad motherfucker in the room, yeah
piss on me ā because syndicate hierarchies are bullshit
Hey, why you tryna piss on me?
I don't know what you want yeah
Why you tryna piss on me?
And fuck your opinion
If your tryna piss on me
somebody else ā because there would always be somebody else
Cause these haters turned me to somebody else
Their behaviors turned me to somebody else
No. It wasn't me
manitto ā because you canāt be a flip-flopper; a hero or a villian
From Sherman Oaks, I'm a hero
Hero named Villain
People never get that villains have another feelings
They always tryna tend to focus hocus pocus on the heroes not the villains
shut up and grooveĀ ā because can Rowan even dance? not as good as him
Shut up and groove
Shut up and groove
Shut up and groove
Just keep groovinā
donāt hate me ā dedicated the only man heād ever truly love
Cook and a cleaner and masseuse It's not a fucking thing, rap music, Bitch I got nothing but hate, moon Bitch I got nothing but taste, month Bitch. Even if it's fast, his life will be long and his glory short. All you gotta do is shut your motherfuckin mouth 'Cause I've been through all of this. These bitches out of mind No I speak it like no other, yeah I did my time Like a long time ago, Cause I'm down for some nasty shit
paranoid ā the traces of paranoia would threaten to create a fissure in the mind
I closed my eyes when the stars were visible. I cover my head to the head so I can not see. I do not know if someone took my life When you walk, you'll be spoiled behind your back. Every day I'm so afraid Someone might kill me When open my eyes Someone's pointing at me right now. I do not know.
born hater ā before love, there would always be hate
Wow, look at this place. The cowards are running away. No doubt, are you watching? If you donāt like me, hide carefully. I can see you, how dare you underestimate me Different scales, this is motherfuckin 'do or die
xibal ā he was born stubborn, there would be no changing that
Fuck Donāt go yet I'm sorry for cursing What I mean is do not leave me yet. No, no, fuck, I told you, not yet. I'm sorry for cursing again. It just means I wonāt change.
then ā happiness; blood splattered walls and a lifeless body
Iām an eccentric fellow Iām running on so much more. Actually, happiness is earned by earning money As much as you ear, you take away more taxes Donāt worry, a growing skeleton. Iām proud to say I love my enemy I mean, I actually love everything I hate.
here come the regrets ā because you canāt feel sorry for blackout rage
Where was I? what did I do?
Who with?
When did I get here and why?
Man, I'm clueless
Regrets? I got a few
Thousand
I blame the city
Blame the view
The music's too damn loud and
Look around, look inside and out back
Smile at the world, get a frown back
Is it me?
tony montana ā he loves himself more than his family and friends
ė źø°ėķ“
ėØģ ģ¤ķØė„¼ ė°ė¼ģ§ ģźø°ė” ķ“
ė“ ź°ģ”±ź³¼ fan ź·øė¦¬ź³ team ģµģ°ģ ģ
ź·øė ė ė²ģ
ė“ ģėķ ģ¼ė§ģ ģ¢ ėģ
The world is yours
ģ“ģ ģ ģøź³ź° god damn ė“ ģģģ
Hey gentleman
Wait a minute
ė ė“ź° ė§ķźøø źø°ėķģ§
I pray I do not want anybody to fail. My family, fans and team are top priority Yeah. My ambition is high. The world is yours Now the world is in my hands god damn Hey gentleman Wait a minute You pray that I will perish.
NO THANXXX ā because the heaven and hell donāt matter to him
Don't, don't worry 'bout me
ģ¤ģ§ė ėØģ§ ė§ź³ ģ ź²½ źŗ¼
ģØ ģøģģ“ ė ė±ģ øė I don't give a fuck
God is watchin' over me ė 죽ģ ģ¼ ģģ“
ė“ ź±±ģ ģ ģøģģģ ģ ģ¼ ģøė°ģė ģ§
ė¶ģ ģ ģø shit, man I ain't got time
Middle finger to the Devil, stop fuckin' up my vibe!
Stop butting in, just forget about it. Even if the whole worldās turned its back on me, I donāt give a fuck. God is watchinā over me Iām never gonna die. Worrying about me is a pointless thing to do. Negative shit, man, I aināt got time. Middle finger to the Devil stop fuckinā up my vibe!
Thereās a world beyond the glass walls of this aquarium and even though itās beautiful I canāt leave just put on the phoneās blue lightāaquarium we are still far away from that aquarium
a ghost of a glare trails the claim of his disrespect in equal measure, as if trying to detect something between the words with the expression he gives. she knew how it must have lookednow at least, with how swiftly sheād come to simonās defense. āit didnāt seem necessary to point out.ā it isnāt something sheād disagree with, the idea that he should have been kinder. and she recalls with enough clarity her feelings had been similar that day as well, just with a great deal more emotion behind it. mimi didnāt have the strength for such at the moment, and it was mostly water under the bridge at this point anyhow so there was little point in dwelling on the subject. ājust shut up about it already. i get it, itās fine. no big deal.ā in a habit long formed since childhood, her willingness and rush to push past the uncomfortable in any aspect surfaced finally and there was every hope itād lie as a subject now closed.
and of course she had the suspicion, the inkling. thereād barely been mention of the boy from anyone in the know and there was no way to tell if thatād been on purpose or not until now. and it was worth asking. worth hearing the explanation, the way it all hung in the air from hanās lips directly. thereās a question of how .. Ā and why ⦠and when. she felt deserving of that much, for all the risk that boy had placed against them and surely, she had every right to be selfish. and she almost gave in to that urge. prod later, she told herself, however. when her brother seemed less .. as he was. less broken and beaten by what had gone on behind closed doors. when salt in wounds and mounting stress was far less of a concern. still, it didnāt seem fitting to offer an apology for something she had little to no control over, never mind that the blonde was hardly the type for it in the first place. at least not while still sober. a study of her brother only relayed as much as his words, more or less. and for now, perhaps, it would have to do. it didnāt make sense to rock the boat unnecessarily.
though, as a result of more recent conversations, more recent occurrences, mimi couldnāt keep from wondering if there was an actual chance to get back to old habits. ācan we, though? i mean, after all this ⦠and weāre losing the condo. i was really getting used to that place.ā
it almost bothered her now to consider how little sheād frequented the residence, especially in these last few weeks. her lack of wanting to interact with han in any capacity had her sending simon for errands in her stead, for little things here and there. it all seemed a little sillier in retrospect. without much thought behind it, a question rises from her lips next. ā.. are we staying here for awhile?ā
he over exaggerated a zipper mouth, shutting his lips and locking them closed. her tone sparking that typical āconversation is over because mimi said itās overā annoyance. he had no choice but to shut up about it already unless he wanted to deal with an irritant princess baby sister. and by the looks of it, she didnāt have the energy for that anyway. though he did repeat the wordsĀ āNo big deal,ā in a rather mocking fashion. he knew it was a big deal. he knew it would be a big deal, and it did scare him. because if an outsider like Julian could come sneaking in and ruin the relationships they had already established, what damage could Simon and Mimi do to all three of them? and could it be repaired? would it take time? and would he be the one to have to chose in between? could he even begin to pick sides? wasnāt he already? in believing in hope that they could make things work? or was that him picking both of their sides? finally, and not his own. a frown tugged at his lips as he felt his scars itch at the muscle movement.
āWeāll find a new place,ā he reassured, petting the top of her head, seemingly getting her to settle down, though the lingering thought in the back of his mind knew that touching her hair was always off-limits.Ā āAs soon as I know itās safe, weāll find a new condo. A bigger one.ā he sighed at that though, aloof to the idea that he let on that he had connections-- though he could have been talking about the media, right?
to her other question he frowned,Ā āI hope thatās okay. Itās the safest place for your recovery. We canāt really pick and choose, can we?ā shifting in his own spot for a second,Ā āIām sure youāll want to phone the parents, I think itās better if we wait awhile. --to not worry them. Asking for a bail out isnāt exactly one of my favorite ideas at the moment.ā he rolled his eyes,Ā āMom seeing either of us like this--??ā he shook his head the woman would go into hysterics,Ā āIām also convinced itās not necessarily safe, with those assholes in the city.āĀ
the thought alone caused his jaw to clench, as he pulled on his sister tightly. it was a reminder for what had to be said,Ā āTheyāll pay for what they did to us. All of them.ā
laying low was hard. the tensions and frustrations were building up fast. the bloodlust muddied his brain. he was confined to such a small space-- his condo lost, his identity was compromised, he had a suspect of a sister who looked at him differently, and no real grasp of reality anymore. Ā how could he jump back into his life of luxury, debauchery, and murder without the threat of being taken again? and if they took him again? would it be so bad?
if he werenāt taken off guard, with the knowledge he had, couldnāt he have a fighting chance? was that stupid logic? or was it survivor logic? and what was stopping him from entering the Sector of Humanity and mutilating each and every one of them just as they did him?
the rage threatened to bubble over, the anxiousness to do something-- anything for revenge infected the mind. it was only due time before he released these tensions.
living with four people-- four of the most important people in his life, however made it hard to lie, hard to cover his tracks, and hard to slip out with so much as an excuse.
the gym bag heād carried would still have a weapon, just in case he couldnāt get all of his frustrations on the gym bag, and his eyes continued to leer towards that thirst after each and every hard punch. the sight of blood anyoneās blood would have quenched any ache in the throat. as he began to only see more red.
they say the gym helps with relieving the stress-- it only made his worse. it only heightened this fear and paranoia that he tried to push back and it only deepened the ghostlike pains of the trauma he felt. so when the gym door opened behind him, the fist went flying to the person who interrupted him. it was a reflex reaction. it wasnāt meant forāā
@songminixā || a kiss with a fist is better than none
and the moment heād realized what heād done, there were instantaneous steps backwards, as if heād taken the brunt of the blow. his eyes flew wide open in surprise. he threw his hands up in surrender. and in all honesty, he was ready for her retaliation. having seen what she could do to a man. the only words he could muster were, āOh... no.ā as he continued to cower backwards. the sight of blood not at all gaining the reaction heād thought.Ā
he'd been banned from a couple of meetings, and it was his own stubborn ass fault for that. he was insubordinate. he was disrespectful. and he was so ravenous for bloody revenge, that he'd selfishly denied the possibility of accepting any more missions unless it involved hurting the ones who hurt him. it was a focus for which he couldn't shake.
and he was starting to believe it was nothing anyone could help him with. it was a hopeless feeling, turning to a dark obsession rather quickly. and given his other relations with a few other members of the Syndicate he'd made it a point to not show his scared up and militated face there. until today. because he wanted some kind of answers. he wanted to know if there were any leads, and he wanted to poke in and see if his kombucha brew had withered away, or if it were finished.
instead he was met with a set of blue eyes, from spirit herself
@oblame || spirit moves through all things
he greeted her with a smirk, as his eyes landed on that mug for which there was a fissure in the Syndicate band of friends. he fluttered a set of smug eyelashes and held back the information he held onto while side by side with Gil on that metal torture slab.
"Playing accomplice outside of work now, are we? Or are you going to explain why you have Simon's mug?" he crossed his arms over his chest. "Was it you who stole it instead?" he shook his head, 'Thief."
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the number of flavor spots on the bagel wasnāt nearly enough to satiate the immune system of the nearly 30-old-year-old survivor. the number of bites, however, outweighed his ability to create those spots as he walked down that street. nearing on a stomp, he huffed. the annoyance still plagued the mind inducing a headache. Gil, having successfully ruined Simonās apartment only worsened Hanās day. leaving the apartment grocery-less and barren for all four of its current inhabitants would not be tolerated, and Han was on his way to give that man a piece of his mind about it.
the bagel pit stop, however, wouldnāt be the only detour, it would seem. the sound of stone against stone grated in the ears, along with the dripping noises of a tiny pool of water. the smell, the pure rotten stench of the sewer pulled Hanās curiosities to that sound. Glorious, mold. sewer moldy water. perfect for homebrew kombucha.
though there was a tuft of hair that peaked from that spot, on the ground. hair belonging to a person? as he chewed on the final bite of his bagel, Han tilted his head, already needing an answer for this, he spoke to the other, an old nickname at the tip of his tongue, though he was certain
@greyxw || sewer water color of my tea. burry me out in the lone city. sewer water wash we all down to sea.
wouldnāt appreciate it.
āWad, is that you?ā he shook his head as the chuckles fell from his lips. āDonāt tell me this is your home, now.ā he rubbed his hands together to remove the excess crumbs from his now gone bagel, āI canāt wait to tell everyone.ā the polite thing to do would have been to offer the old colleague a hand, but given his loyalties, and the loyalties Wade lacked, he didnāt find it appropriate to help pull the man from such a low. heroes, disgusting.
āIām certain you have an explanation for this, Iām dying to hear it.ā
INTERRUPTED BROADCAST ā C O N T R O L ; OPEN STARTER
Gilbert liked laundromats; the clinking of quarters falling through slots, the soft humming of machines, the overhead lighting that shone yellow like the fading pages of an old book, and even the inconvenience of waiting for a larger machine filled him with nostalgic delight. He stood in front of the washer. From behind his pair of thick, heavy-duty sunglasses he watched his comforter swirl in a whirlpool of soap suds. Gilbert had poured in extra detergent to be purposefully wasteful and indulgent, as laundromats often made him feel inclined to be. Even a small child, latched onto the hip of their parent, had pointed and exclaimed about how heād used too much.Ā He supposed heād been that small the last time heād gone to a laundromat with his mother.Ā
For a moment, he reminisces about her lifting him up so that he could pop coins into the machine and splitting a soda with her from the vending machine. Those happy times were before everything went to shit. And he felt a gnawing sensation unsettling his stomach as he realized that was the last time heād felt truly happy as a child. He thought it was a strange thing for all happiness to feel vacant and hollow past the age of five.Ā Gilbert looked down and rubbed his nose, which had flushed red as he lost himself to old memories. And for once, the diamond thief was thankful to be wearing sunglasses. They hid more than just the side-effect ā the glowing, burning like hot clay in a kiln look to his irises ā of his mutation. He cleared his throat.Ā
āHate to break it to you, but you might have to repeat yourself,ā he said.Ā āI had Mariah Carey on my mind, so I wasnāt paying attention. Were you talking to me?āĀ Ā
he grumbled as he deemed it necessary to comment on the face of his friend before heād rudely interrupted him,Ā āWere those thoughts of revenge, my dear Gilly? Or are the flashbacks haunting you too?ā
From the shadows of the dark alleyway, it almost appeared as if the young woman was pleased with the poised manās response, the curve of her hip jutting out slightly as she waited for what was yet to come. Despite their unconventional meeting, the fact that he did not cower nor run away in the face of her crimes left her feeling rather.. at ease. āThank you, hun, I appreciate your honesty.ā Zelda responded with a hum, chocolate brown orbs attempting to focus on the junction between his fingers and the body at their feet. How unfortunate was it that a growing society was unable to erase the stain that was male entitlement. Perhaps if Lance didnāt see her as some innocent little girl to mug, maybe he wouldāt be in a situation such as the one he is in now. Hurt, shamed, edging closer and closer in acceptance of deathās embrace.
The villainess had been merciful towards her eradication of him, surprisingly, but from the looks of it, this man had zero intentions of mirroring her intentions. Her steps came to a complete halt once she stood by the manās side, her frame standing much taller than his bent one as she watched the assailant-turned-victim turn to something that should have made her stomach church. Her expression was completely apathetic with his use of his powers until the sinful odor lead an attack on her senses. Zelda was certainly no stranger to the macabre, but this was on a completely different level. This was gruesome and it quite frankly intrigued her. Once the man who was once known as Lance was nothing but decay, the brunette let out a tiny yet impressed scoff.
āThat was..ā Words did not reach her tongue as easily as she had wished, though the wild grin that stretched at her lips was enough to express her thoughts on what she had just witnessed. Instead, she opted for a low clap that proceeded to echo in the alley, eyes dancing with devilish bemusement. Finally, some exceptional villainy. āAbsolutely brilliant. You have made my day, truly. What are your powers?ā
it wasnāt at all honesty for which he spoke. it was actually a great deal of sarcasm he was issuing. a reasonable person would not have taken Lanceās life so mercilessly, though there was no blame on her part. heād stick to the story should he ever be questioned. it was simply self-defense. the woman had no idea that Lance would piss her off beyond the point of blacking out in a fit of rage. itās not at all beyond any idea a simple detective could grasp. his statement was meant to flatter her, nonetheless. though having witnessed her beat a man to the brink of death, he was smart enough to not correct her, nor speak otherwise against her own reasonable nature.Ā
he squinted his eyes at her as she formed her compliment.Ā āDo you make it a habit of being so generous? Itās been twice now that Iāve had to use my manners with you.ā his tone, sounding like a complaint, he was quick to nod his head in an uncharacteristic bout of humbleness,Ā āThank you, again. Itās no problem at all, really. Just a wave a hand and the decomposition does all the rest. Some would say itās a form of time travel into the futureā he shrugged his shoulders,Ā āOtherās-- the more logical thinkers-- assume it has to do with the chemical compositions in the body reacting with other elements. In simple terms itās a manipulation of rot.ā another chuckle fell from his lips,Ā āTo put in dramatic colloquial cliche form,Ā āEverything I touch turns to shitā.āĀ
he switched his gaze back on the dust in front of him. āNow shall we sweep whatās left into the gutters? Or leave him for our fellow civilians to step on?ā having been one half of the Clean Team on the Syndicate, this was just another dayās work, wasnāt it? it was just his civil duty, cleaning up after his fellow teammates as issued by Ange, though Nix was a bit neater in her actions-- nothingness manipulation does tend to be a lot less messier.
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the threats of a headache werenāt a problem at the current moment. the threat of the floor spinning out from beneath his beach boy sandals was not a problem, either. the fact that he had lost a perfectly nice plush towel along with a pair of nice sunglasses at the beach party was not a problem at all for the inebriated Han. the man in the morning, however, would have to deal with those problems, a rude awakening of these revelations would stir until the daylight broke through those dumb blinds of Simonās terribly lit apartment.
in fact, there werenāt many problems as he clung to the shoulder of his friend. his own bodyweight likely dragging down the other as they were ushered to the right apartment door by a wonderfully beautiful friend that Han certainly did not deserve. she was constantly saving his ass.
though, they both would owe her a for getting them home safe. there wasnāt a thought to thank Min, no, the only thoughts were to pullāā
@simonmuhnā || head in the clouds and I'm not coming down
closer into a nuzzle to selfishly keep himself from toppling over. as if they hadnāt already spent the entire time at the beach inseparable. what was supposed to be a beach party to celebrate life, ended up being a celebration in the friendships that he was so lucky to have. when it was the two of them, just Simon and Hanā it was a celebration of silence. it was a celebration of the entire world being completely quiet, save for those two. it was a celebration of what really mattered to Han, seeing Simon so content and at peace for once.
āLetās take five million more hours to open a door, yes!ā he was sunbaked, slightly sunburned with sand still on his skin and a smile on his face. and while he wasnāt already helping the process, he was worsening it, but trying to first stand on his own, second trying his best to yank keys out of Simonās hands, and thirdly, violently re-inserting them only to cause more of a ruckus for the other inside.
āSee⦠thatās how you open a door, Simon,ā though, if weāre honest here, Simon was doing much better on his own. he let out a rather uproarious set of laughter as his footsteps entered the apartment. there wasnāt a thought at all that anyone else would be home. he rubbed his hands together, āMore wine, letās see here.ā his voice carried as his slurred words and feet moved to find a bottle, though he was landing on a couch from the dizziness.Ā
if there was an inkling, of suspect to the idea that there were two sides to Saeran, Han was completely obvious to it, having understood to have only seen one true side of the vampire.Ā
people in his opinion are drab, annoying, useless and one dimensional. having kept a lot of his interactions and close encounters to a minimum, heād never tried at all to imagine anyone other than himself multi-faceted- two sides to a coin, and two sides to a personality was unthinkable, and it wasnāt a chance with Saeran. not that Saeran was simple, it was just what Han believed unobtainable to the other. and yes, there was a lot that was special with Saeran, but there also wasnāt.
because there was little to nothing heād known of them. there were scars on the skin to paint some gruesome pictures of a haunting. there were words spoken on a bridge to help connect clues. there was a list of names that influenced the otherā names of friends Han never would value nor care for. they were all immature 20-year-old idiots, fish to fry. there were tellings of past mistakes, past relationships and past experiences that shaped Saeran,Ā
āābut they werenāt excuses for a person to treat someone so disrespectfully. they werenāt excuses to treat themselfĀ so disrespectfully. they werenāt excuses for fucking around with someone elseās emotions. because yes, thatās what it was, plainly and clearly. and Han thought he was the one manipulating the other?
it was something, Saeās past, that was in the past for a reason. but that was just an outlook Han carried for most of anyoneās past. and it was something they would be at odds for forever. why couldnāt Saeran allow himself to move on from all these things? if they were to move on, they could try and do so together. there is no room for dwelling on the words of the insignificant. that was Hanās ideaā little did he know that he was one of those people reinstating those harmful words. little did he know that he was one of those voices from the past, resurfacing to hurt Saeran even more.Ā
or perhaps he did know. perhaps he didnāt care.
he was the one who was hurt first. he was the selfish one. he was the needy one after being deprived of attention, and he was the one to overlook his own apology as it should have been issued. and perhaps thinking on it later, heād come to a conclusion that had heād just said he was sorry for insulting Saeran over something as immature as a Syndicate group chat, then maybe they could move on from this.
but Han Jae Song is completely unapologetic.
āYou have some nerve flirting with me, while Iām already so annoyed with you.ā
heād viewed the other as weak, but also strong; quiet but also loud; fragile to touch, yet destructive in their own way. and while he was certain heād known exactly what heād gotten into upon their first night spent together, Han couldnāt help but feel blindsided in watching the unfurling happening in front of his eyes. the vampire taking control of the human version. it was intriguing.Ā as he stared back, the curiosity washed over his own features.Ā
there was an offense displayed in the other at his words. Ā it caused a lurch in his own pulse, a silent fear, as well as a rustling of excitement. a smirk formed on his lips. there was a familiar face, a more intimate feeling as those eyes bore down at him, and there was a sound in the voice that gave his exterior a tinging sensation.
Saeranās threats pricked on his skin as the insulting nature of his speech continued to threaten him. āIād love to add a vampire to my list.ā
eyes trained on other with the intensity of the challenge. could a vampire do more harm than a group of scientists in a white room? especially as they edged him so closely to death on a daily basis? was there any torture more violent? was there a set amount of pain Han could endure? would Han be able to undergo even more trauma and why was he asking for more? Ā how many close calls with death would he experience before his smart mouth ran dry? when the grim reaper came, would he greet them with a fuck you as well?
and while he had many ambitions to achieveā murdering a fucked up scientist for touching his sister at the top of that list, there was a glint in his mind that said this would be a glorious way to go. Mimi would forgive him, right? Gil would sprinkle chicken nuggets on his grave. Dottie, Simon, Min, or all three would team up for vengeance, wouldnāt they? if not, Saeran would be at the mercy of his sister, wouldnāt he? the Syndicate would fissure, and Han would smile as he looked up from Hell, proud of his impact on the world. in fact, it seemed like a wonderful idea to piss off the vampire even more.
āYou want consistency when you canāt give it back?ā he sat up in his seat, stretching his back as if he were doing his own limbering up. he first rolled his shoulders back, after tossing his head from side to side to achieve a quick pop in the neck first to the right, then to the left. he closed his eyes in the momentary euphoric feeling. before placing his hands on his knees. āHereās a thought: you donāt get to ask me for anything anymore, and I donāt get to ask you for anything anymore either. Since one of us has to be the adult and lay down the ground rulesā he exaggerated a sigh, āI guess Iāll take that role. But itās not fun playing Daddy in this aspect.ā
he offered another smug smirk as he rolled his eyes to such comments as pretty face, little man, jealousy all rather poor attempts in stirring nothing more than an annoyance for someone who had been tortured with so much more. though, he could still feel the faint sting in his scars as they itched in a complaint to this. but if Saeran didnāt find him pretty, it wasnāt the end of the world, now, was it? something deep down still felt like it was something detrimental. sentiment,Ā how annoying.
āYou want to play with your food, well, youāve played enough, Saeran. Your food is tired.ā in a succinct movement, he finally rose from his seat, crossing over a coffee table, and pulling his coat over his shoulders. the hands sliding into the pockets once more. fingertips trace the cold silver hilt of a forgotten blade in the coat pocket, the reason for its existence feathering in the mind. heād come for an apology, he still hadnāt heard one. was it a lost cause?
āI told you, what you wanted with me was your choice. You failed to relay the message. I refuse to be your toy, which is why I assume you failed to be upfront with me. If you wanted something open you could have just said so,ā he shrugged with a business-like manner in his shoulders, very curtly and to the point. but as he finally reached Saeran, the habits from all their previous encounters surfaces. the hand rose to that all too perfect face, as he moved to cup their cheek, a thumb caressing that spot that he thought would be his and his alone.
āYou canāt blame me for being upset with that. You canāt blame me for wanting to be the one to hurt you now, and you canāt stop me. Itās what you deserve.ā