@kn0ckout : ❛ ... you okay, dude? ❜ he cocks his head to the side, one hand holding a grease-stained bag of fast food, the other holding what looks like some kind of fast-food slushy. ❛ you, uh. you've been looking at me for a minute. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. This couldn’t be real. All that Soo-jin had been doing was going to pick up something locally for his bike that’s he couldn’t get online—only to nearly crash into something from the abrupt stop. Gaze had been locked onto Jay—for how long, he didn’t know. It was like time had stopped and for a moment he swore he had felt a strum of pain in his left leg—even with the prosthetic on.

𝐒𝐎𝐎-𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. Instead, he abruptly gets off of his parked motorcycle, approaching the other man with some sort of unreadable intent. Fanged teeth bear themself as lips pull back into a snarl, grabbing the poor guys’ jaw as he pulls him closer that noses nearly touch, eyes blown wide and flicker from brown to gold; pupils slit as his gaze burns into the others. Did this guy seriously not remember who Soo-jin was? That he took his LEG hundreds of years ago? He growls, rage bubbling in his veins.

“How the FUCK did you survive!?”

the  smile  that  fights  its  way  to  clark's  lips  is  a  soft  one  ;  one  that  understands  the  sentiment  all  too  well.  be  it  for  the  greater  good  or  for  selfish  reasons  (  because  despite  being  superman,  clark  was,  at  his  core,  still  clark  ),  he  understood  how  taking  risks  could  be.  they  didn't  always  work  out  and  sometimes  they  could  be  used  to  learn  for  next  time.

thankfully,  jason  isn't  too  hurt  this  time  around.

alert.

immediately,  she  is  alert—  not  because  of  his  sudden  proximity  to  her,  but  because  of  his  apparent  emergency.  grey  hues  flicker  over  his  form,  looking  for  obvious  wounds  that  would  be  causing  said  death,  but  she  doesn't  see  any.  rayne  knows,  however,  that  just  because  it  isn't  visible  doesn't  mean  it  isn't  there.  gaze  rises  back  to  his,  lips  parting  to  ask  how  she  can  help  when  he  speaks  again.

fast  food.

he  .  .  .  was  hungry?

the  witch  blinks  once  .  .  .  twice  .  .  .  three  times  before  her  eyes  widen  and  it's  almost  as  if  stars  themselves  manifest  in  them.  hand  rises,  a  single  digit  in  the  air,  a  silent  plea  to  wait  a  moment.  she  turns,  digging  into  her  bag  before  she  pulls  out  tupperware.  did  it  fit  in  her  bag?  it  almost  seems  like  it  shouldn't,  but  it  isn't  something  she  thinks  of  as  she  turns  and  offers  it  to  him.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤunprompted | accepting | @kn0ckout said ...

❛ nice tune! ever consider recording it? ❜ he offers a quick smile, his tone entirely casual. ❛ think it could do numbers. ❜

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ ... No. ❞

There is little inflection, in her tone ; No anger, no malice, no ... anything. Clinical, almost, once her voice dies down - as if the idea, were neither considered, nor rejected. SHE, of course, knows the reason that her voice is not recorded - many others that look upon her, could surmise. Smile is offered, in any case, showing brilliant, pearly fangs.

something is wrong, wrong, WRONG ! ! !

ALERT, ALERT, ALERT ! ! !