#gcarkham

     it had been out of a bubbling fit of panic that hakyeon had left lacy towers with his winter coat rather than the disguise of salem. salem was known by the one who had escaped, and at that moment, with an unsettling feeling his gut, that hak didn't want to put himself in the spotlight while the city burned. quietly slipping out of the car he had called, he took a glance up at the barely alight neon sign of the garage, his teeth clenched and a light hiss of a breath sucking through clenched teeth. while his father round up the men he could, is was hak's job to find the others much like himself. the independent forces that were now needed more than anything. entering through the garage floor, he moved through the old cars before slipping through the ajar door that lead up the stairs to the second floor. it was hear that he sought out the door to the third floor and knocked a closed fist against the wood. "opi ... yah, opi !"

he'd received the news through an agitated phone call with his father only moments after it had occurred, and since that moment, he'd had his attention glued to the television screen -- a look of what seemed like sheer panic written across his face. it wasn't the fact that the man mad had escaped, it was the fact that now hakyeon had a horrid feeling of what would occur now that he had found his freedom. this throne, and this kingdom would be destroyed and taken in the grasp of a man who at times haunted his dreams. "fuck --" quickly he snatched his phone again, and hit speed dial, lifting it to his ear as he glanced back to the burning images of arkham asylum upon the screen, "wonsik ! are you seeing this !"