#phxmarion

3. “A trait that I hate about myself,” Hyejin bit her bottom lip in thought. “I have anger issues.” Hyejin sighed. “I inherited from my father, unfortunately.” Her mind flashed back to the numerous times, where she let her anger get the best of her. That’s why she spent the majority of her time alone. She didn’t want people to see how horrible she became, when she was angry. How dangerous she was. If she could take away anything about her, it’d be that

9. “I don’t think I have any enemies,” Hyejin said. “Or, I probably do have some - I’ve just never had the pleasure to meet them.” Hyejin recalled the many times she received threats from LOTUS members, after writing about them in her articles. If anyone read her articles, they’d know that she always encouraged humans and experiments to band together; and to get rid of the dangerous rebellion group. “I hope to never meet them face to face.”

🔪 ⇢melee weapons

he can barely wield weapons larger than his own hands. they make him clumsy and he easily loses track of his own movements because he focuses too much on the weapon and its position. but he’s surprisingly efficient with small daggers and other pocket-sized, bladed weapons. his entire fighting style is derived out of cutting swiftly and puncturing accurately – speed over strength. this was taught in preparation for the tournament and he never got to use said skills, but the reflex to cut, rather than punch, remains all the same. despite the lack of continuous practice after the tournament, he still knows how to wield a knife well.

🌲⇢ surviving in the wilderness

if left to his own devices, with no aid whatsoever, he won’t do well. all he knows is to be heavily dependent, and during his tournament his mother left trails to secret shelters and stashes of food that she had prepared for him, so he has never had to rely on himself, out in nature or otherwise. he probably won’t be adaptable enough to take care of himself if he does need to survive in the wilderness. he might last a couple of days out of sheer luck, but he easily resigns and succumbs to fear, so i wouldn’t put my money on him doing a particularly good job. if he had something/someone to survive for his intuition could keep him alive, but if there’s nothing to motivate him he’ll most likely do poorly.

🎹⇢ playing an instrument

εжз - what about nature do theyfind calming? what about nature do they find disagreeable?

The subtle sounds made throughout nature is what Jeongmin finds calming. However, he finds nature discomforting. There are times where it’s too quiet, where he’s left alone with his thoughts. It leaves him feeling unsettled, itching to do something that isn’t purely being surrounded by nature.

❤ -describe a physical action that shows complete trust.

Trust is difficult to achieve withJeongmin—he tries not to show it as well. He isn’t one to show physical actions that aren’t related to his occupation as a information broker. However, how he shows complete trust can be seen through small subtle touches, a touch on the shoulder or arm. They’re very small gestures and barely noticeable. 

☾ -on a sleepless night, what would they be found doing?

@phxmarion

The champions of the tournament. Seyong had become somewhat obsessed with them of late. Jang Wooyoung, Kim Myungsoo, Lee Hayi etc. All examples of champions, ones with powers that seemed to be better than the rest. Or so it was claimed. But one was more interesting than the others.

Lee Junho, Marion. His file was an interesting read. The information he had gathered implemented him as a traitor, though these claims were based on rumours. If he was a traitor then Seyong wanted to know, importantly, why? It was probable that he was given everything that he could of wanted, yet he still turned the blind eye to this and made deals with the ‘devil’. The young male knew that baseless claims were nothing to go on, so he needed to investigate for himself.

Asking around didn’t lead anywhere, no new information was collected. It was getting a little tiring until he had wandered home one day, discovering a doll in his place of residence. It wasn’t there before and certainly he didn’t know anyone who could make such a thing. Mistaking it for a joke he threw it away, putting it to the back of his mind. The next day when he had returned from his duties, it was back. It seemed like the same one, but that was impossible. He threw it away again. The next day it happened again and again.

It came to a point where Seyong couldn’t take it, didn’t bother throwing it away anymore. Someone was playing a very funny joke on him and Seyong wasn’t laughing. Staring at the doll became something of a fixed routine for him, wondering exactly what it was. A threat? He doubted it was anything sincere and someone just wanted to give him a gift. No one would do that to Seyong.

HaHa wasn’t particular fond of this kind of propaganda work. It was gruesome, having to think of the details to project. He would prefer to just pretend those tournaments didn’t exist -- he was in awe of the bravery the people displayed, to go out there and risk your life, but it wasn’t the kind of courage he possessed. He was content just staying here.

Who would be waiting for him, anyway, back on the mainland? Who knows where his father would be, what his mother would think of him now? And the girl with her pretty eyes, her starlight smile -- she was probably married now, holding a cute child on her hip, shivering over the rumors about the island.

All HaHa had, all he ever could have was here. So he had to make the best of it.

But this particular event he was portraying made his stomach sink. He was projecting the tournament of the September winner, the one they called Marion, with the creepy dolls marching as his soldiers. HaHa let them march as well, he had been forced to watch the whole thing so he could accurately portray it.

Oh, wouldn’t the audience be shocked! Look at this horror! Wouldn’t they stand up and fight! Wouldn’t the protest!

No, HaHa knew, they wouldn’t, because people want to live, in any kind of circumstance.

And then, for the grand finale: he made the music swell, the colors of his illusion vibrant. His stomach churned, but he kept his expression neutral. People stopped to watch, shocked or pleased or curious or all of them together.

“Why the hell would you voluntarily sign up to die and/or kill people?” 

“Was it worth it all?” 

“Why do you come and watch fights at  the Crimson Ring?” 

“How does your power work again?”

Is it true? Are you a champion?

So, do you have like a separate room in your home full of geek stuff so you can secretly geek out?

Do you have any pets? Because if you don’t, or want more, my friend’s looking for someone to adopt her kitten.

Can you tell me why you’re a closet geek? I mean, I don’t see why it’s such a problem.

Are you still angry about me taking that comic book last week? In my defense, I was there first. 

Why do you hate me? :( 

Don’t tell me you’re going to hold that comic book thing against me?

Do you want to come to my cafe sometime? My coffee’s pretty good, or so I’ve heard.

Do you ever get tired of yourself? I mean, mentally, does it fatigue you to be so unnecessarily crabby towards everyone you meet?

I wonder if I go down the road I’m going now, I’ll end up being extremely senile like you in a few years?

You called me a kid. How old are you anyway?

Better question: why are you such an ass?

They call this “pulling one’s pigtails” when you bully someone for no reason, don’t they? You must have one fat crush on me, am I right?