#starstxff

some would take the peace that followed keung's second recovery period has a gift; no news is good news and sometimes, it's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. but old snips of wisdom in the form of aged sayings never sat particularly well with aelius and he could practically feel himself growing restless with every passing day. as keung took his time regaining his balance, coming back into full control of his body, aelius had taken temporary leave of his office—citing personal business—and left the front to huajin, still determining how much he could trust her but deciding that if she hadn't run the investment business into the ground yet, she could be at least trusted with that much. but though he thought spending all his spare time and waking moments with keung would preoccupy his thoughts to the point of oblivion, he only found his restlessness grow. it had come to the point where, as soon as he had been certain that keung was not completely defenseless on his own, he had left the apartment without so much as a warning.

in hindsight, he supposes he should have told keung—so when something went wrong, someone would know where to find him, know how to help. but at the same time he didn't want that: he wanted to go it alone and if date decided that it was time for him to go, then so be it. the suffering had started with him and he would end it with his own death. it would be the most noble thing he had done and he supposed it's only appropriate that he had done it in keung's name.

though alone had never been his favorite to spend time—always having enjoyed some human interaction between his quiet nights—aelius had kept to himself, far from contact with either keung or huajin so he could concentrate on finding his little stalker. it had taken some time; first combing painstakingly through every message and every call the boss had made since aelius had left the states and even before that, trying to find patterns and match up purchases and bank deposits—really any information he could get his hands on at this point. it had gotten so difficult that at times, aelius felt like he was running in circles or making up the messages he supposedly saw between the lines.

but after working at it for what felt like a small eternity in his own hell, he had figured it out: an m. ryder had been making contacts out to shanghai for a while now and had been hiring different investigators and making various investments that came close to aelius' field but never fully overlapping. as he stared at the name—the cumulative of sleepless nights and maybe days without eating—he can't help but feel as if he's seen it before.

not wanting to waste any more time, though, aelius had taken the first flight out to new york and gave himself adequate time to scope out the apartment building. it seemed the best place; an office building would have too many eyes, too many people not minding their own business whereas a private residence would usually draw desert questions, would have less ears pressed so keenly to the walls. that's what wealth was for after all: the ultimate sense of privacy.

jun-ho ╳ ⋮           JUN-HO DOESN’T MAKE a habit of chasing leads of no substance. anonymous calls, mysterious emails, notes left in the mail—most of them were deleted or thrown in the trash upon catching his attention. call him an old man, a traditionalist, but he had been at this all too long to just let any mere idea of a lead take him astray.

a text from an old enemy, however, is another story.

he knows he shouldn’t trust it—seong is a fucking kumiho for god’s sake. it’s in his nature to lie and cheat. but at the same time, between the two of them, jun-ho knows the fox wouldn’t miss the chance to mess with him. personally. so donning his best outfit and leaving only a voice message for a close work friend so someone knows what happened if things went sideways, he makes his way to the club.

Whatever the fuck Jae was doing to him, Jung-Su wanted it to stop. He could feel some sort of pull through his nerves, and if it was a pull to relax him, it was going the wrong way because Jung could feel his heart beat a little bit faster, and anxiety start to roll through his body. Maybe it was his unusual powers kicking in as a safety shield, but instead of relaxing him, he was much more insistent on getting out of the situation. His fight or flight response kicking in slightly, and his response? Fight, so his words had a bit more of a bit to them, and he gripped his fingers tightly in his lap. He wasn’t sure where this guy was from, but he wasn’t from KNPA, and he wasn’t human. That much Jung could slowly figure out. A smirk fell on his lips as he stands up, adjusting his glasses on his face. 

 Was it perchance the same people that went after his father? Even though a part of him yearned for death, he wouldn’t give without a fight. After all, what would all his training of been for? He had a bit of pride in himself to at least give himself a willing chance. He wouldn’t have put all those hours in for nothing. “Bullshit,” Jung finally responded. He made it purposeful to exaggerate his stare up to his eyes. He may be taller, but he was slick, and he could worm his way through this situation. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re not from the KNPA. Any idiot could tell. You literally don’t look like it, nor do you have a badge I’m assuming. I don’t know how you got in here, but you need to leave.” He was sure that was an empty threat and the other wasn’t going to leave at all. He supposed he only said those words to make himself seem like a badass in all the movies that he had listened to. He paused for a moment and chuckled bitterly at himself. When he was nervous, he supposed he talked a lot more than he thought. Was this his version of fighting? 

 “Or at least tell me why you’re here for me. If you’re here to kill me, make it quick. If you’re here for money, I don’t have any. If you want power, you came to the wrong person. And if you want someone to read your newspaper for you, well, it’ll be a bit harder, but I can do it for you.” Jung usually never talked this much. He kept much more to himself and offering only a few sarcastic phrases to the few people that he had engaged with. He had found that most people didn’t quite enjoy his rather sadistic sense of humor and tried to stir clear. There also was the guilt of feeling bad for a blind man. Some people didn’t like the idea of hanging out with him because they felt like they had to be someone other than themselves. They treated him like a glass ready to break at the slightest joke.

Only a few people made it past that round, and when Jung told them that he also had a terminal disease. Most people ran. Only one or two stayed, taking in his sense of humor, his sickness all while keeping attain of their personalities – something that Jung had always appreciated in other people. He knew everyone was different but some people were just so bland. They conformed so easily to the ways that people thought they had to be. Arguably, that’s what he was supposed to be, and that’s why he opposed it so much.  He didn’t want to become the person that he was supposed to be. He wanted to be someone different. He sighed again, sitting back down in the chair. 

 “Also make it quick, I have a lot of work I need to do.”

W E L L. this one is ( W O R D Y ) , isn’t he?

to be honest, jae's not all too sure what to make of all the B R A V A D O; the two of them had barely seen each other in passing in the past, let alone spoken to one another, so whatever the other's personality had been  B E F O R E  is  completely unknown to him. which is also when he recognizes that he has no clue whether or not the other is bluffing him right now. could he really  read  through all his lies, his disguise? or was he just trying to call his bluff to try to get him off of his back?

as he considers the possibilities, he continues to slowly run through jung-su's sys- tems—trying to  keep  his  touch  ( l i g h t ) ,  especially  since he could sense him TENSING up &&  resisting instead of relaxing. as he moves upwards into his head, though, he find himself meeting some [ RESISTANCE ] , but  not  the usual mental type. instead, he finds it  harder  than  usual  to  smoothly move through the nerves && with a slightly  creased  brow,  he  attempts  to  work  past it when he suddenly realizes—-

oh. O H .                                                                ( he's B L I N D )

it's a realization he purposely holds at bay && lets dawn slowly so that he wouldn't give himself away. but if jung is as blind as  he  assumes,  then there's no way that he can see a shift in his facial expression. then again, jae remains C A U T I O U S ; the other had been meant to be his genetic MIRROR && his powers were still intact. though, considering the fact that he had been scheduled for termination because of an unspecified terminal illness, maybe his powers had d e t e r i o r a t e d , too. the mere idea causes  a  wave  of  C O C K I N E S S  to  flow through him—but with a quick clearing of his throat, he forces himself to stay calm.

" here is my identification card, if you insist on  proof,  mr. myong, " jae says slowly, reaching into his pocket and producing a fake driver's license in a leather and plastic cover. in it were other proofs of identification, giving the case a bit of WEIGHT—per- haps just enough to trick jung. holding  it  out,  he  tries  to  keep his mouth but as a S M I R K tugs at the corner of his lip— " i apologize that there's no braille for you to read. I should talk to the department about making our ids more ACCESSIBLE."  

silently, he stands there  with  his  hands  folded  && allows jung to have his moment. frankly speaking, the more that jung spoke, the more information he was freely hand- ing over to jae, saving the time and breath for asking questions—two  things he finds himself quickly running out of, so he appreciates any shortcuts that can be offered to him. by the end of it, jae allows himself a small snort of amusement in response to the other's M A C A B R E humor. if there is one thing that the  two  of them clearly share at this point, it's their G A L L O W S humor when faced with ( D E A T H ) .

" i know it may be hard for you to believe, but you are safe in my care, " jae continues to try to assure him, allowing the easy smile on his lips  to slip into his words, trying to be as welcoming and unassuming as possible. " you  have  never been as safe as you are now. of that, i can G U A R A N T E E  you."

&& he tries his H A R D E S T not to, but an amused  laugh  flickers  through his chest. he waits for the other to sit down and he knows that this is the wrong move—he needs to stay friendly, he needs the other to come with him willingly, if for no other reason than because it will make things far easier. for the ( B O T H ) of them.

" do you hear that, mr. myong? " he asks, using the moment to  draw  the other's atten- tion to the silence that had settled over the office. && he lets it H A N G, lets it linger be- tween the two of them—lets it SINK in before he speaks again. " we  are the only two in the office. so trust me when i say that there is no work for you  to  get  back to. at least, not for now."

taking a step back, he leans lazily against a desk, resting his weight against it with a flat palm as he looks over jung—thinking about how he is supposed to be a reflection of himself. his ' what if. '

Foul was the smirk to grace the god’s features; something wicked and putrid to haunt the nightmares of all who laid eye upon it. How cruel it was to foist a fledgling babe into the presence of a god, but care for those beneath them was neither blade nor tool for Wiraqocha Rasca. They looked to the boy with a curious evil in their eyes, a wickedness unproven in act or word but suspected with every motion, every breath of the god. 

“There’s something more to you.”

It wasn’t an easy thing being a sngle parent. He needed to go to work and take care of his baby girl and some times he couldn’t even bring her to his studio. But then he could help but feel bad every time he leved her with a baby sitter. Taking care of Clio was his job to do as a parent. So when he heard that a new kid was coming to work as an intern in his studio he couldn’t be happier. 

“Look, I know you didn’t come for this, and I know is a lot to ask. But I’m not going any were and you just have to watch over her, see that she doesn’t step on anything dangerous. And if you need something just tell me.” He told the new kid smiling as he tourn around to keep directing the music video. It was almoust over anyway.

bonus! roughly inspired by this plot idea in the wishlist tag