#dramatiique

No words could appropriately describe what he was feeling in this moment. Rage was close, but it didn't appropriately capture the humiliation -- the resignation, the sting to his pride that felt more akin to the swinging of an axe.

Valkin had always survived on its own. Cynder knew the stories of hardship and tragedy that had unfolded long before he was even conceived. Even before his great-grandfather had united the tribes into one, Valkinans persevered without allies. Without even gods!

So to be reduced to this -- to accepting aid from Ylentan merchants, allowing them to build a trading post in their land? It was an admission of weakness. Of defeat. It had been bad enough that he and his father had shouted at each other for three days over it.

If they needed more supplies, they would raid more villages. They could go further into the south that before if they had taken all they could from the outskirts! He would sooner burn every town across the border than accept foreign aid, and yet his father remained firm in his decision.

The stubborn old fool. He was ill, Cynder knew, and perhaps his mind had begun to fray. If he had known, Cynder would have taken his crown himself -- but before he could, he had been diminished to this: a free cock, thrown in with this blasphemous farce of a 'negotiation'. The merchant had a daughter of marriageable age. His father had been needling him about needing heirs.

Cynder wouldn't have protested as much if not for the fact that she wasn't being brought to Valkin. It was he who was expected to leave his home and cross into enemy territory to the house where she resided.

After three days upon horseback, he arrived. Even having never been this far into Ylento, he had managed to find his way. At least that was something worth being proud of -- a bright spot in what was otherwise a miserable sentence.

Still, as much as he hated every moment of this, Cynder was loyal to his King's word. Even if those words were foolish and ill-sighted. If this Magdalena was to be his wife, then he would do his expected duty: breed the bitch and, with any luck, return to Valkin once the resulting spawn was healthy enough to walk on its own.

Ylento's weather was as fierce as a drunk soldier's stream. He doubted that between the mild seasons and copious excess that it would have much trouble making it there. Unless his wife was truly an incompetent idiot who shoved the infant into an oven to keep it warm. He couldn't know yet.

... But he would soon. Dismounting from his horse, Cynder allowed himself one final groan of frustration before steeling himself. This estate was too well-kept on the outside. Too clean. Not even the healers' lodgings were this clean. Still, there were no guards outside the door, despite the occupants' obvious wealth. Were there traps inside, or were they simply naive?

...She probably had servants. The house was far too big for her to be fully alone. Great.

He straightened his spine, shaking his head. He was still a prince, and she was a mere merchant's daughter.

...

"then.. don't be reassured?" she just didn't want to get into it. to be fair -- she didn't have to and it's not like someone forced her to say anything. it had come from another one of her fights (which, she won, by the way.) and the opponent's blood had managed to stain her skin. hyejung needed to recharge but had been stopped by the detective to answer a few questions. and you know what? she had the time of day, so why not? there was no reason to lie.

at least, that's what she would think.

still, she had not told him where the blood came from and she was checking to see if any of her bones had been sprained or even broken. she knew how that felt, so check that off her list. she lets out a sigh when she turns her legs, feeling a bit of a wear-and-tear feeling. that would probably bruise the next day. "got in a fight." why? no answer. she was straightforward with it, giving him only what was asked.

also, why was he paying attention to her? besides having to ask her questions and such. there were plenty of people around. he wasn't out to get her, was he? looking up at his demeanor, he analyzes his actions and also crosses off of her list that he was out to harm her.

he would have done so already, she thought.

she lets out a sigh at the sign of his help. fuck. of course. her grandmother was the one who taught her how to be less of an "asshole." that's what she was, because she was so brash and thick-skinned. she takes his hand, a loud thwack when they connect, using her other hand to place it on top of his and use his pull to get her off of the ground. "what's someone like you doing in a place like this, anyway?" she was curious, too, so she could ask her own questions.

@dramatiique played: "something really weird just happened at the train station." //sieun not understanding borderland yet - for chishiya!

There's another one, Chishiya muses as he watches the figure quickly approach him the moment after they notice each other in the otherwise empty streets. A NEW PLAYER. It isn't that Chishiya possesses a special power to know whose new and who isn't - he's just OBSERVANT. ( It's one of the most valuable skills in any world but especially in this one where survival could depend on it. ) Chishiya lets his eyes flick over the other's features. He's too optimistic in verbiage alone to have been in this world long. Doesn't have the look in his eyes that people who have been here for a while do. Chishiya would place a bet that it was either his first day or he had a relatively EASY first game free of deaths - an unlikely occurrence. But the words give the truth away whether or not the other knows it. A potentially dangerous oversight in this world.

His hands rest in the pockets of his jacket as he turns towards the other man and leans back slightly with an inviting tilt of his head. The shade of the abandoned buildings offer a cooler spot to relax in compared to standing out in the summer sun. It also makes Chishiya easier to see with the contrast of his jacket to the shadows - although he hadn't been anticipating crossing paths with anyone. " Is that so? " He asks in a manner that says go on without Chishiya actually having to say anything t all. NEVERMIND THE EMPTY STREETS, the lack of pedestrians and tourists, and the absent chaos of cars. Shock is a powerful thing. The change so eerie and distinct that the brain takes a moment to properly process despite being aware of the change.

"i told you that this wasn't going to be easy." ada's gaze cuts in his direction, as if to provide a warning - but frankly, she had a feeling that this kid would figure it out pretty quickly. it was that, or find yourself being made a meal out of, having seen firsthand what hunger could look like. MONSTERS AND MEN were the theme of the day. and ada really didn't mean to pick up someone as she was making her way through this city, the both of them caught at a pinch point within a building before ada had gotten them out of there. but now...

the city is taken. but that doesn't mean THE END.

"hurry up-" ada, don't be an idiot - there's no time to slow down for a civilian. sighing quietly as she handed him one of her spare revolvers, gaze remaining impassive. "have you ever handled something like this before?" it looked somewhat NATURAL in his hands... good. he'd need that instinct now, more than ever. "i need you constantly looking around. for threats, for bullets. we're scavenging here for survival. and if you can't keep up, i can't come back for you. understand?"

seo moon-jo was dead. that much he'd personally made sure of. however many apparitions had presented before him since that fated night in the studio were mere tricks of the mind, nothing more. hallucinations. the man from unit 304 wasn't there — he couldn't be. it stood to reason that life after eden never really returned to form; jong-woo would never be out of the woods, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. did he play the part of the fool, who dared to dream? had he lost himself in his own delusion? was he really tipped off the edge of sanity?

no. a hardened gaze bore into the eyes of the other, his tough physical display overtly juxtaposing the pit of dread that had his feet glued to their spot, heart hammering against his ribcage. could moon-jo see right through him? “i killed you,” he sneered, defiant of accepting what was right in front of him — the truth. he wouldn't break so easily, or would he? in essence, yoon jong-woo wasn't a reliable narrator. his mental state had fundamentally declined since his arrival in seoul, never quite gaining respite as he liked to believe, even in the weeks following his discharge from the hospital.

“i killed you,” an echo. if something was said enough times, it would have to be true, wouldn't it? a finger was jutted towards the taller man's face as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowed, ignorant of the jingling of his bracelet until it was mentioned. the daggers he shot were abruptly interrupted as he glanced upon the piece of jewellery that had become a part of himself, a muted scowl across his features as his arm dropped back to his side.

SUBJECT: locations + situations meme NOTIFY: @dramatiique CONCERNING: carrie white

you know, rue was no stranger to trying to find an easy way out. sometimes? life was depressing as fuck! and sometimes? you wanted to think about ANYTHING but the bullshit that haunted them. and she had fucking terrible coping skills! and like. carrie also needed to loosen up, maybe. she reminded her so much of lexi, in some of the sweetest ways. how she'd really needed her after her dad died, how vulnerable and scraped up she'd felt back then. it was maybe her turn to maybe show that she could be that person, too.

"i know a place." she says when they get to her place. well, like, yeah. it's the space just a walk from here, on top of the roof of fezco's convenience store. she hangs out there, on summer days when she wants to feel THE SUN. she'd smoke up here too, because, like, nobody really got in her business about it. ashtray inside, the place open late on the weekends. he just offered them a wave ; and he dismissed it past that point. he really never paid her no bother unless it was to demand payment on some on credit buy she'd made.

HIGH: for our muses sit on top of a roof together, sharing a bottle of booze or a joint.

she rolls the joint herself so that it isn't, like, AWFUL for her. a small smile forming as she handed it over, the end already lit, for her to take, if she wanted. and to her surprise? carrie's all in. it's kinda nice to see her all relaxed, glancing to her almost a little shyly. "do you like... wanna talk about it? like. your whole... school situation before coming to east highland."

SUBJECT: locations + situations meme NOTIFY: @dramatiique CONCERNING: light yagami

she tells him when they meet, about the trees. the ANCIENT WAY of leaving your secrets to the gods, to leave them something with which to connect one's life force, to the death gods that flickered between this existence, and the next. there's parts of this that she can remember oh so clearly, it sits gloriously lush within her memory. and then the next moment, it's like she's missing whole parts of her, in a way that she couldn't even begin to describe. how do you, when you can feel your muchness slipping between your fingertips? oh me, oh my, how tragic.

but making a deal with the devil comes at a cost! even if you don't quite comprehend it in the moment. such as light, in his own mania for believing in this self-imposed manifesto of so-called JUSTICE. sometimes something in her slips, twisting the truth of his slippery, self serving lies before she'd play sweet again. she promises to take him here after a moment like that, where, someone almost comes too close for comfort, to catching him. he doesn't really get it, does he? that none of this would be worth the price he'd end up paying by the end of it. keep playing dumb, and he'd lose out on more than just his freedom.

LATE: our muses are camping in the mountains together but hear noises outside their tent at midnight.

they're halfway up the mountain when he suggests they pitch the tent. he comes prepared for anything, this master manipulator. how clever he'd be in a pinch, a fire tended to, rations eaten, and once it got dark, it was early to bed. after all, there was hiking to do before the DAWN hit, so that they might give themselves the opening needed to whisper to hell the secrets that they'd rather keep buried. let them determine if it was worth the price a person laid forth. she wondered, idly, how much more of his soul he could barter off before he collapsed inwards, but... she doesn't know what time it was when the noises started up.