#gdmonster

♔ ———–

   He tries to be courteous in these instances, even if he’s normally not so polite. A sense of distrust always follows him; a product of his environment and parts of his upbringing, too. The welcome, in a way, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth due to the things he’s heard and the reason he got here. Is he really welcome, with his chaotic record and an attitude that, he’s sure, she’s already heard of? That type of information always runs fast --- the bad one, the negative one; the one that promises to tear you apart if you let it. 

   A hand goes to meet hers. He also decides to give a bow, not as pronounced but not as loose, either. Just one that shows sliver of gratitude as the smallest hint of a tight-lipped smile appears. It looks weird --- he doesn’t really smile. However, that odd grin disappears as fast as it makes its appearance. 

    He’s glad she doesn’t seem so unfastened, either. Hyuk has been transferred to other places before (here and there, like a bouncing ball; his boss often insists on these things as to ‘calm him down’ and it seems they haven’t learned a thing -- neither has he) and there’s been examples of loud and faux affability, you know, the type to welcome you with bold laughter and crinkled eyes as if wanting to disguise a condemned place as wonderland. He prefers this. The distance, the vague amiability that’s not freezing cold nor does it scald the tongue. 

    Oh Jihwa. He’s heard about her, too; did a small research before coming here. Divorced and with a brother also working in the force. Not that personal things matter -- what matters is that he read she’s very good at what she does; handling cases with a grace that earned her the title she has now. Answering to a competent Team Leader is good. He just hopes something crooked is not hiding amid all that good reputation. 

    He’s never been a Team Leader. Not officially, at least. Superiors have said he wouldn’t be a good one because of how gritty he is. You’ll never go up if you keep behaving like that, detective Lee. Yeah, yeah, yeah. He doesn’t care.

     Eyes drift from Detective Oh to identify Kang Do-Soo. The...what did she say? One of the best men in the precinct? Uh-huh. We’ll see about that. He bows his head when taking note of him. It seems they have partners here, too. Not many things change, all things considered. Just the faces and the location. 

   “Understood.” 

    He finally says when she also mentions Detective Kwak and Chief Jeong. He’s read about them, too. Especially about the latter. Weird vibes he got about this guy in particular; the type of hunch that you cannot blatantly ignore. He’ll keep that to himself. 

    Harsh glance is given in return when Detective Oh stares him down. Frown pressed on features; he lets hands slide in the pockets of his trousers. He’s not intimidated. Just uncomfortable. 

   “Yes, I did. I...left the box outside the door.” 

    Nothing much, really. Just his personal printer and some files; paper. Nothing personal, no trinkets that could reveal anything about him. The contents of his desk tend to be just like him --- dry; dedicated to work only. His personal stuff he already left at one of the apartment rooms. It’s small, but it’ll do. 

  “Will I have a designated space? Or is it going to be shared with someone else? I don’t mind either way.” 

   A pause.

   “Do all detectives get assigned a partner? If so, I rather work by myself, if possible.” 

   A request he’d like to put on the table, whether he’s granted such a thing or not.

  “Anything else I should know, Team Leader Detective Oh?” 

@gdmonster // @mythvoiced really making me go like 🥺🥺🥺

lena pls....if there is anyone who has been an ABSOLUTE DELIGHT to see both in my dash, inboxes, ims, and elsewhere, one such example MUST be you 🥺🥺🥺 i always got that vibe off of your blog(s) when i initially followed ( and before i revamped this blog, when i lurking 👀....u know scoping out the field before actually launching said blog JFKLSDJF )- at risk of sounding like a broken record, i really adore and admire how you?? openly and genuinely CARE and SUPPORT your writing partners not just as, well writing partners but also as individual artists and PEOPLE....i'm not sure what your experiences has been, but at least in mine, it’s a quality i found to be VERY RARE AND LUCKY to stumble across

but also 🥺🥺🥺 the fact that you consider me a friend is a HIGH HONOR and pls do know i consider you a friend as well- you have my full permission ( as a matter of fact let me write you an invitation, handwritten too 😌 ) to buzz around both ic and ooc for ever and ever...i shall do the same :DDDD

mutt’s birthday. 

he hears the seaweed soup is traditionally a birthday food. arms folded in front of him on the table, held close to his body, he watches the steam waft from the bowl. he can feel the heat rising and pressing up against his face. it smells good -- beef and a hint of ocean brine, underneath the spices and meat. 

eyes dart up to not quite meet ji-hwa’s. he doesn’t dig into the bag, instead chews the inside of his cheek. clothing might not be very exciting to some, she says, and mutt has to bite his tongue from saying something callous, bitter. people don’t know how good they’ve got it. this irritation is misplaced. too much for the current moment. not made for her. 

♔ -----------

   Scent, it’s one of the very first things he gets a hold of. His nature practically forces him to; inhales grasping bolder hints compared to the average human. He could tell you a whole story based on perfume alone; he could tell you entire theories just by letting a whiff circulate in nostrils. This is how he managed to pinpoint the other, once he got vaguely familiar with carried aroma.     This stranger, he doesn’t smell like myth or fairy tale. He doesn’t smell like the usual creatures he’s accustomed to chase after. Masking a particular scent is difficult when a gumiho is in front of you, but he doesn’t feel the other’s been trying to put a veil atop his essence. Yeo wonders if he even knows what he is, judging by appearance alone. Regardless, he doesn’t think there’s avoidance, for his scent dances effortlessly with his every step, his every lift of an arm as to press finger between teeth; it even becomes more prevalent when he points at him. 

    He doesn’t smell like dragons or tianchi monsters; he doesn’t smell like samjokoh or the three-legged crow, even if he might look like one, with that hair which seems more like a darkened nest than a composed hairstyle; with those eyes that brew both distance and an odd extension of mockery. He smells like chemicals, like a sporadic tint of blue drenched in alcohol; like ash after being exposed to fire. He smells human, but a toxic one at that.

   And he looks like danger. He looks like madness. Which is exactly why he’s there --- which is exactly why his words were directed at him.      Of course, it’s possible not many see what gumiho does, surroundings being quite calm despite current confrontation. Yeo tends to imagine what others would dismiss; it wouldn’t be a surprise for foreign eyes to identify this presence as average, or even beauteous, considering height and a face which could easily fit in someone’s beauty standards. It’s also madness, how comfortably people can fall into traps like these just by looks alone.      Yeo doesn’t reply to the other’s question. Instead, he formulates his own. 

“Why don’t you play a game with me first? Whoever wins, stays. Whoever wins, can continue doing what they were intending to do here. And whoever loses, leaves.”