#med.rep

@mixneptune

she shouldn't be so ecstatic about seeing qian. qian hates her – but that's just the thing, isn't it? jinah knows better than anyone that qian is the best liar in the world. better than her. she sets the bar for liars all over the world and that's why she's so good at lying to herself, too. jinah knows that qian wants her, loves her, adores her, because there are no two people like them. not here, not in this island, and certainly not in the world. any thought of competition was stupid on her end; she can see that now. if qian is happy to keep the lie going then jinah will encourage it, but for now, she's happier to ignore that and go straight to her.

after all, that woman is the only one who has ever understood, and only because they're cut from the same nasty cloth.

@mixneptune

“What are you doing here?” Of course her first words to Jinah aren’t of gratitude, especially because she just saved her life. She had it. Totally. Someone was trying to send a message to Neptune, so they sent a hit-man after her. She had done a good job of evading them, staying on the move and covering up her tracks. Guess she got sloppy, she’d blame it on how tired she was. Her brain was on overdrive from being on a constant high alert, figures it would lag eventually.

They catch her off guard, her movements too slow to do any good. However, something tells Qian that even if she was at her 100%, the end would be just the same. Her bloodied and bruises starting to form and they stand above her, gun pointed at her head. She closes her eyes, waiting for the shot, ready to finally be at rest. A shame that it doesn’t happen. Instead a new person appears and dispatches her assailant. Qian isn’t sure what feeling bubbles, either disappointment or relief, but it’s gone once she sees who exactly saved her. “You know, I figured you’d be the one of the many people who’d like to see me dead.” Moving hurts, but it doesn’t stop her from trying to stand, too bad her arm gives out almost immediately. Her hand forms a fist in frustration, it’s pathetic. This whole thing is.

the crack of the masked assailant’s neck feels good. it’s satisfying, but not because she’s protected someone in the process. the lifeless body drops down but she nudges it sideways, and it plops to the ground. she doesn’t know who it is, and she doesn’t need to know who it is, but she nudges the corpse away with her foot even more. when she looks down at qian, there is a whole abundance of nothing in her face. this is the look of someone who’s been doing this for a while. “i’d like to kill you myself. i’d hate to be beaten to the punch.”

@mixheomin:

Annoyed. Annoyed was the word which described how he felt, it described it perfectly, like nothing had ever described something so perfectly. He was utterly annoyed, not only was he annoyed, but he was also annoyed. Annoyed was what he was, and if you had eyes and a brain then you would be able to know that, because it was definitely annoyance which showed on his face. A million thoughts went trough his head in a second, him questioning himself if it had been a good idea to flirt with this girl, if she in reality had no brain or perhaps she was a five-year-old who looked very mature.

He sighed, he sighed loudly, and if you weren’t deaf then you could hear the annoyance in his sigh. Flirting with everyone had its problems, people who for some reason hit Min whenever he flirted with them, people that for some reason were loyal to their partners, and then people like this one; people who had no idea when Min flirted. And the last kind of people were the most annoying, because if you’re a master at flirting then you know for a fact that it’s annoying when people don’t even recognize your flirting. Like come on, you think I hit on anyone? Well in Min’s case yes, but still, he had picked to hit on this girl, he had done the effort to flirt with her, and yet she didn’t even get it.

“I’m not praising you or cursing you. I guess I’m complimenting you or something”

jinah understands hatred. she understands contempt. she acknowledges attraction and respect. compliments fall under none of these. compliments are for fools who believe that they come for free and not made under some sort of ulterior motive. when it comes to men, it’s even worse. they flirt like idiots and it’s both slightly endearing and slightly annoying. it’s not that she doesn’t like men; she likes some, like the old ones with lots of money she can murder and steal a little bit from when hydrus isn’t looking. young men with money are usually entitled, or dumb, or too smart for their own good. men, in general, ain’t shit, so she doesn’t try to keep her hopes up.

@danixmi

because there isn't anyone to stop her, it's that much easier to indulge in her more enjoyable hobbies. see, some people may blame the money for their actions. the very nature of business is criminal, and the very nature of money inspires people to reach into the darkest parts of their souls to serve their self-interests.

medusa isn't like that. no, she's better than that.

she doesn't kill people just for the money – it's a nice bonus, to be true. who wouldn't enjoy being paid for something that they love doing? isn't that the dream that everyone aspires towards? and who could fault her for doing it in her spare time, with no one to pay her and no one to scrutinise the outcome of her work?

so she follows this man into his apartment. he doesn’t notice her, or the knife she holds behind her back; he has airpods on, which is really tragic, in hindsight. it’d be a shame to die as a joke. in her focus, she almost misses the reflection on the side mirror of a car they pass by. someone's following them, too, and that just makes it more exciting. 

by the time they reach the top of the stairs to his second-floor apartment, she reconsiders the knife, and instead, takes out a carefully-packaged syringe from the inside of her jacket pocket. it's tiny enough not to be noticed, and it isn't anything lethal. she doesn't want her fun to end so quickly. she stabs it quick and fast against his pulse. their onlooker will arrive soon, and she drags this unconscious man as fast as she can to whatever bedroom – but only reaches the living room when she hears the thud of heavy boots that most certainly crossed the threshold behind her.

@mibomin

it’s getting a little late and he’s on the way back to his dorm. for some reason, he decides to take a rather different route by a much less lit walkway. bomin isn’t one to believe in ghosts, but when he begins to hear high pitched noises getting louder and louder, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he’s got himself in some weird horror movie.

though it’s then when he spots a tiny kitten through a glass door, stuck inside a store.

bomin loves animals. or well, he loves most animals. some are cute, some are creepy (toads) and some were just odd (owls). still, he’s got a soft spot for animals and it isn’t something he’s afraid to admit.

he contemplates for a minute. was it the owner’s cat? but then again, the cat didn’t look as though it wanted to be there. he walks towards the glass and tries to peer into the store. he doesn’t spot anything for the animal to eat and he comes to the conclusion that the cat had been locked in the store by mistake. shit.

“i’ll get you out of there,” he says, “i’m gonna get you out of there.” he looks around to find anything to break the glass door with. bomin isn’t afraid, he could always just delete any cctv footage later, he’s sure he’ll find some way to deal with it. he grabs a nearby rock but is stopped by a voice.

“what is this scene i am witnessing?”

shit (again). he pauses, turns around and his eyes meet those of a stranger’s. “i…” he begins, “i’m trying to save a cat,” he replies honestly.

jinah doesn’t go on late-night walks for no reason. by tomorrow, someone will have found another target of hers in a dark alley, dressed up as a homeless person, supposedly sleeping soundly on a piece of cardboard. it’s inconspicuous. he could have died from dehydration, or choking on his own vomit. either way, jinah didn’t want to make it messy, so she walked down the street to throw the bottle of poison away in some public bin. 

she’s walking back to her car when she passes by a suspicious man. jinah can let a lot of things slide, but if he’s trying to break in to kill a cat...

well – not that many people will immediately jump to murder, but far it be from her to judge a book based on their seemingly innocent cover. she knows better than most people that everyone’s capable of killing anything or anyone. “sure,” she replies, suspicious as ever, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. 

she must look like a sight now: wearing full black, with the only shade of colour the red on her lips. she must’ve looked like someone straight out of a noir movie, but that doesn’t matter, because she’s just about ready to beat this man to the ground for even thinking about using a rock to break in and potentially harming the cat he’s claiming to save. “if you use that rock, the shards will go all over, you’ll scare the cat away, cause property damage, and a bunch of other things. all to save a cat? at least do it right.” 

@mixneptune

here’s the thing about getting shot that the movies horribly understate: it. hurts. like. a. fucking. bitch.

so here she is, hand barely supporting herself on the building, white hot in her torso and hand holding that heat in like it’ll stop the bullet from moving every time she does so much as shift more than she has to. she doesn’t even realise where she is until she sees the street sign, squinting, almost throwing up, but coughing up some bile and spitting it on the sidewalk. god, god, it hurts. she doesn’t even know if she’s breathing anymore, but her legs, heavy and mechanical, drag and lift and drag and lift across the pavement, sticking close to the back alleys and finding the door that she slams her fist on. once. again. she doesn’t know where her voice has gone. probably spilled out with the rest of her guts. 

@seolhyunmi

jinah didn’t tail qian because she particularly liked her in any way. she was just interested in what she did; called it caution and dusted her hands free of it. there was a girl in particular who stood out, of course, and one that seemed to take up a lot of qian’s time. was this the reason why she wanted things to end between them? (a preposterous little request, of course: they both knew it couldn’t really be over, could it?) if so, then the woman is an annoyance. a gnat, in the grand scheme of things. a flea. a very pretty flea, to be true, but a flea nevertheless. she wouldn’t spend her energy on a flea, no matter how much it annoyed her.

unless, of course, it’s for a job.

that she even gets a job while everyone else is having fun is just her luck, but she figures she’ll make this quick and enjoy the rest of the chaotic day. 

@mixlyra

The unexpected confession causes Lyra to pause in her spinning, eyes wide as she practically wheels herself back around to face Medusa, finger probing and nitpicking the skin of her bottom lip, as though incredibly conflicted about the next few words that she was thinking of saying next.

“I like you too–but not in that way.” The younger mumbled emphatically. “I mean, you’re pretty and all, and you have nice eyes and a great, great smile–but..but aren’t you dating someone?” Confusion fluttered across Lyra’s face, her features a mask of clueless innocence as her finger darted to scratch behind her ear. “And besides, I think I still like boys better than girls when it comes to romantic shit.” The younger hitwoman squatted on her seat precariously, toes curling, eyes flickering rather disinterestedly. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings though–” A faint tinge of concern bleed through her voice, as though she was truly worried about the present situation they’d found themselves in.

Unless Lyra had–as always, read the meaning of the situation wrong of course, which in all honesty, she had most likely did, though embarrassment was not something that came easily to her due to her rather clueless nature of everything else in the world. It came with being a blank sheet of paper and amnesia, she supposed.

lyra had made her laugh after a shitty day, and for that she got a compliment. truly, if medusa had been drinking anything, she would’ve spat it out because lyra said something so out of left field that it was hilarious. but instead she settles in her seat and plays with the corner of the folder that should contain her next assignment. she doesn’t bother to read it yet.