#idsuran

@idsuran, produce project compound, off-camera ( episode one thread )

san hadn’t wanted to do this. he’d actually been hoping they would’ve been so angry at his unannounced vacation that they would wipe his schedule in punishment. but maybe they knew that was what he wanted, or maybe they just liked the large chunk of the paycheck his contract required he hand over to midas. so mentor was slapped to his name, and he got tossed into a show that relied on long hours so they could jigsaw it all together and into something entertaining later. his schedule’s still too packed. he wants to be home layered underneath four quilts with the aircon cranked high just so he has something to spend his money on. 

but the cameras are off now, after too many hours stuck in a chair judging all the contestant that spun out across the stage like shiny new tops. he thinks it’s a little unfair to those slated later. his attention had started dwindling near the halfway point. by the end he was tired and pissed off. granted, he didn’t show it. that doesn’t fit into the san-friendly image, prepackaged and palatable for the public. but midas had given him the okay to play up the hard-working angle of his image. to stress the importance of work. to give someone constructive criticism. he’d probably have mentally checked out completely if they made him settle into a face-aching smile and declare that everyone was completely wonderful.

isac ; @idsuran.

the heat gets to him, but moon ryujin is a master of disguise. so to the cameras, to the audience high in bleachers and melting under a sun too acute, he’s some green-haired prince charming. think shrek, but beautiful on the outside and horrible on the inside. he doesn’t watch the events, lets his eyes linger on a certain sport and pretends he’s wholly interested when he’s really not. this, tiring themselves out for a meager medal is beneath him. running, sweating---all a vapid waste of energy ryujin barely participates in. if anything, he’s a glorified cheerleader. 

go, white, go. 

how mundane, but at least his hair stands out. so by default he attracts attention. but he’s moon ryujin, of course he catches eyes. what will he be without that. (nothing.)

he’s under a lone umbrella, protecting himself in a circle of shade. glasses cover eyes that pursue familiar faces and strangers alike mixed in a fruit basket of white, yellow and pink. none really intrigue him, none really spark curiosity to quell his boredom. he can yawn, doze off, get a pann article written about his lazy behaviour but too childish, too harebrained. he thinks of something else---of someone else when she lingers not too far away in a matching tunic. 

jawbreaker on the same team provides a sense of folly. better than imperial. better than olympus. the group itself is a thing of fascination. questions buzz. 

with the seat next to his empty, a throne awaits royalty or debauchery, and ryujin lifts a hand to his mouth. “suran-ah!” not loud, not demanding but sweetly silver-tongued. “keep me company. i’m bored!” this is a grouse from a man with a terrible sense of entitlement and a need to have someone feeding his ego. for whatever reason, suran does that. and ryujin is foolish, greedy, he takes what he’s offered without caution. 

or maybe a little. 

{12:24 am, yeouido hangang park}

busan born and bred, sejun has always loved the water, the sound and the feel of it. and living in seoul has done little to diminish that love, instead it just means that he now feels a void, an urge to seek it out whenever he can. tonight is no different. with the han river spread out in front of him, an uninterrupted view of the lights twinkling off of the lapping waves. the park around him which was once bustling with people and loud has grown empty and silent, most inhabitants wandering off in search of food or sleep. not sejun though, no instead he leans back and rests against the wooden back of the bench he’s taken up residence on. he sighs happily and stretches his arms above his head before letting them drop into his lap.

as the hours roll by, he takes a quick glance at his phone and figures he should probably make his way to their meeting place. standing and pocketing his phone, sejun picks up the skateboard that had previously been resting on the bench beside him. dropping into the ground, he easily steps onto it and pushes off. skating by the river through the park had been a regular routine of his, the thing he looks forward to most during the summers, an activity he’s been fond of since his trainee days. the thoughts, the worries, pretty much everything fades away the moment he puts his feet to the board and kicks off. they’re all forgotten as the warm air whips through his air, the smell of the water filling his senses and consuming him. and although sejun is active, prefers all types of sports, skateboarding was probably his favorite. sure, he’s spent hours refining a handful of tricks, has spent hours at the skatepark on the weekends, but riding by himself was by far his favorite thing. and with earphones playing the perfect summer soundtrack, sejun rolls through the park and down the sidewalks, uninterrupted without a soul in sight.

he finishes up though as he sees their meeting stop coming up in the distance and rolls to a stop at his favorite bench right outside of the basketball court. instead of sitting on it though, he plops right onto his board, rocking back and forth as he fishes his phone out of his pocket.

{ suran >> hey i’m here. take your time, there’s no one else around. }

with his message sent, he tucks his phone away again and leans his head back. in the darkness, he’s able to make out a handful of stars. it’s moments like this that makes him miss the busan seaside and the beauty of the sky uninterrupted.

OLYMPIAN — what greek figure most encapsulates them? ;; +2 exp

when people think of persephone, it’s easy to jump to queen of the underworld. no friends of dahyun would make that correlation. that’s only because no one knows the side that she keeps hidden. the side that’s buried deep down for fear of hurting someone or shining a bad light on herself.

her story is a well known one. a story birthed from tragedy, as most greek myths tend to be. persephone was a lovely girl. daughter of zeus and demeter, her mother cared deeply for the girl, vowing to keep her safe. it was her beauty that attracted hades, and maybe it was her beauty and light that led to the eventually abduction of dahyun. no one was ever allowed to stay so happy and positive and bright for so long. much like persephone, she was separated from her mother and dragged down. tragedy after tragedy struck until she was in a new world she had never wanted.

swee-t – what is their most crippling vice or addiction?

san, at his very core, is an unwilling addict. the kind who will turn away, shake his head, deny, deny, deny. but his personality is an addictive one, something hard-wired into his genetic code. he leans on all of these vices like a crutch, a coping mechanism that isn’t one. or, a flawed one anyway. because at the end of it all, does oblivion really help? he drinks, and he smokes. he takes pills when he can get them, something to dull the pain of a knee or a foot (he swears). and when he has time off he’ll throw the remainder of his energy into partying wild, sleep numb and dreamless for too long. a coma-like state. he has a ritualistic work routine he needs to push himself through. he needs to dance. he needs to force his body toward attempted perfection. he needs to sing (he needs to catch up, to surpass, he needs and needs). to the point where he’ll make himself anxious if he’s not given the opportunity to do so. jittery limbs, snappish behavior. san is a compilation of addictions, and so then, what is the most crippling? which holds him back the most?

it’s probably attention.

funny, for a boy who stands on stage in front of thousands. millions of followers on social media, girls who follow him around on the streets when they’re able to catch sight of him. too many people pay attention, but then, that’s not the kind that san’s addicted to. it’s a very specific shade that he’s willing to throw himself recklessly at. that heavy-gutted feeling of want. magnetism. something that stirs up a reaction in him. a crackle of heat splitting between his ribs, fire in his veins. the heavy weight of wanting eyes dragging down his back, or wanting hands. the kind of thing he can mix around, pretend like it’s diluted love. until he makes himself sick with it. becomes sick of it. tears himself away like he’s on a bad bender. swears it all off again. cuts off the source. decides he hates it, and like most addicts, hates himself.

but that’s the thing about addiction, isn’t it? eventually those cravings spiral. they turn into compulsions. they turn into visceral, primal need.

⸺what is their most crippling vice or addiction?

with @idsuran, pro.j episode 2

they’ve been on the show for a while, it’s enough to know how it works. it’s not different from the trainee life he lived before, just with more people around him. everything annoys him, the noise, the terrible habit they all had of making idle conversation in between practices, of talking when lights were out and all aroon wants is to sleep.

or maybe people in general stress him.

there is no place in the complex that is not full of trainees, large groups of boys and girls practicing or talking together, going through the songs again and again, until it’s so carved within their minds they could perform while sleeping. aroon is the type to do it, overwork himself until the very last bit of energy has left his body, but sometimes he needs to do it on his own.

which, when he thinks about it, it’s stupid because he is training to be in a group, he is in a show to be part of a group, team work is a must have for all trainees. and yet, here he is, trying to find a place where he can sit and relax by himself, go over his lyrics – thanks for nothing, myungeun – and try to present the best performance he can.

it’s in one of these attempts that he finds an empty room, the darkness coming from it inviting. aroon turns the lights on, blinks twice to get used to it and sees that the room isn’t empty. out of the things he could find there this is not the worst, but what an awkward moment.

because there, alone in the empty room, is jawbreaker’s suran, aka center girl, aka the number one on the rankings. crying.

if aroon was a worse person he would whisper an apology, turn off the lights and leave, but he is not. maybe he should be, but he isn’t. his parents raised him to be a gentleman, and as one aroon can’t stand seeing girls crying – he has seen his fair share, some tears caused by him, some by the hard midas training system.