Starstruck

                                      || ✩ ||  Google Doc Rules  || ✩ ||

     He is no stranger to the feeling of eyes watching, a star in the eyes of the public near constantly; such a status makes him far too familiar and able to identity when somebody is watching him.      Crimson eyes do a quick scan around, catching notice of a figure nearby. Must be the one watching him. A small smirk grows, not quite hearing the words spoken, but judging by the tone, it is not in agreement to his sentiments about the snow. He chuckles, raising his voice a bit to ensure this newcomer to the area can hear him, “Not a fan of the snow, darling?~”

     “. . .” He takes a breath, feeling the cold fill his lungs. The cold of winter, the chill to simmer down the fire that burns his insides, “Snow. . . such a beautiful thing glimmering in this rancid place.” 

     But hope you guys have been good lately 💜

     But also just wanna show off Brontes. She passed on Monday which is why I’m having my hiatus to grieve. She was a very small and affectionate bunny that my whole family was ridiculously attached to.

     “Ah Halloween,” He grins to himself, slightly adjusting the pumpkin upon the tabletop, “At least I can do this without worrying about those idiots trying to stop it.” Nobody to tell him to get rid of the decorations or to throw away the pumpkins. Perfect time--except this Entity doesn’t know what cooking is so that is sadly out of the picture. Oh well, maybe one day.

     “Do you even sharpen that thing. . .?” Ji-Woon quirks an eyebrow slightly, looking from the knife in sad shape to the one who wields it, “How do you even get blood out of one of those Survivors with that weak edge? That’s a kitchen tool, dull and boring--nothing near the proper weapon to kill somebody with! At least keep it in good shape if you want to use it.”

     The next person who dares to pick him up is going to feel how it is to be a pincushion for 75 knives.

     “You know, you have to pay to listen,” he huffs, barely able to take a step before he is lifted off the ground. Instantly, the cocky and smug exterior is replaced by anger and annoyance, “Put me down!” A knife is produced from his sleeve, quickly stabbed into the shoulder--or well, as close as he can.      Along with the knife, even more curses and threats are thrown in Korean.

     He still has no shred of trust in the other killer--well, that is not saying much since he trusts none of them further than he can throw the Entity itself--so with the approach, the singer steps back ( not without delivering a venomous glare ). There is no security here to stop people from getting to close to him. . . or to stop him from reacting to people getting closer. There is no true dislike of people touching him, it is more of his does not like people he considers below him to be in his space.      Something is said in his native language, a curse thrown at the other when the distance continues to be closed. He must hand it to the other, there is guts to approach one who is known to be highly cruel and a history of attacking other Killers to the point their overseer had to banish him from being around others for a while, “Don’t you even think about--”     Not a moment to finish his sentence before he feels the touch on him and then the feeling of the ground vanishing. Oh, he did that. . . Instantly, a snarl slips his lips, a blade slipping from his sleeve, “ 너 이제 죽었어 ! “ It does not matter if the other can understand, Ji-Woon howls out the words before taking the knife and jabbing it anywhere he can lodge it in--and doing the same with a second knife. . . and a third one. And one more for good measure.     Nobody touches him without permission, and especially nobody picks him up.