#fcxeden

now without a chance, there’s absolutely, indubitably no way possible that molang would be able to escape mark’s grasps now that the owner had the ability to replace the dog’s old leash. of course, this came at a price — that price being that mark technically ‘upgraded’ the dog’s old leash to a stronger one, as molang had grown larger and stronger than before and a stronger leash was needed to contain a stronger pup. 

which, in turn, made mark save more, a counter-action for spending more on the dogs collar, — which meant that mark wouldn’t be visiting his usual cafe in town to downgrade (ever so slightly) to a different cafe. 

but that wasn’t a bad thing – mark had heard good, even great things about this café; its got places to go from where it stands, ranking wise in comparison to the other cafes in the city, but it sure is on its way there.

<p>so mark stops there, well, not yet, but stops quite literally outside there to make sure he’s got enough money in his wallet to buy a hot chocolate and a lemon pound cake (an odd combination, yes, but it was a duo of his favorite non-caffeinated drink and favorite dessert to get at a coffee shop, so why not now?) – and in that split second of absent mindedness, of mark’s fingers in one hand accidentally releasing molang’s handle and looking down to his wallet, was when molang took off, not as fast as before, but trotted towards another man of similar stature, façade, and even hair color (though more ‘brick toned’ in comparison to mark’s firetruck red). and like a good owner, mark followed, stuffing his wallet in his pocket before quickly grabbing molang’s leash handle and apologizing with a short “I’m so sorr--”

but he stopped himself as his eyes met the other’s, the last part of his last word being cut short by surprise, showing itself through raised eyebrows and, of course, a cut off word.

at last, he continued.

“—y about my dog.”

there he stopped, completely and utterly unsure of what he should do next (run? scream? pinch himself? this seemed all too real to be a dream

it had been a considerably good night for someone who didn't get to find anyone to go with her in the first place -- upon reaching the tent of a certain handler's, jiyeon had both managed to borrow her 800 won and drag eden out to the carnival grounds with her.

this is going to be good -- right?

"come onnnnnnnnnnnnn--you were shot in the shoulder not the legs!" jiyeon whines, tugging lightly on the sleeve of the poor handler's in her grasp (she was careful not to touch touch him, knowing fully well that eden didn't have the best tolerance toward mutants--even if she was from the same organization).

"you're killing me, eden -- you're literally killing me!" she groans, avidly working leading him toward the cotton candy stands like the (inner) child she is. "the pink ones are going to be sold out!"

they're the cheapest ones of course --

[txt] unnecessary.

( * displeasure, it shows on her features as she blows a thick orangish red lock of hair out of her eyes, clearly eden isn't understanding the severity of the situation )

In retrospect, walking around in a new city with his handicap, by himself, may not have been one of his more bright ideas.

A deep sigh left his lips as he tapped his red and black striped walking stick on the dirt ridden pavement, gripping onto it tightly with his leather gloved hand. His senses alerted him to at least 3 individuals having circled around him, boxing him in with little escape.

He had thought he had left such people back in high school. That he was, by his standards, free from the persecution. He hearkened to an internal laugh his mind echoed to him.

Xiumin probably should stop hoping for the goodness of others.

He hadn’t meant to stray so far away from the main streets of Busan. It had merely been a thought of his to explore. To get to know the city that he would be associating with for however long.

It definitely had nothing to do with not wanting to stay inside the Institution and avoid needling questions about his past, present and, hopefully, assured future.

Had completely nothing to do with it.

“I merely would like to pass.” He exclaimed to them in an even smooth tone that held no quake of fear.