#syxmina

@syxmina

the night tastes like soot and iron, something burnt to a crisp, to a coal flavor that sits on the back of his tongue like a plague, festers and conspires to scratch his throat every time he swallows and no amount of water gulped down seems to sooth it. he suspects it’s something like exhaustion eating at him, the dryness in his throat akin to the lines under his eyes, the permanent scowl across his features, the crease in his forehead, gold eyes distant but sharp and frustrated at everything around him, growly and inconsolable. he’s been avoiding his own bed for two days now, gritting his teeth at the pain his leg tugs at him, having to drag it across the floor like a severed limb, even though it still hobbles beneath him, the cane perched under his palm keeping the agony to a middle.

@syxmina

six inches of solid heels collide with the floors of serenity’s hallways, a steady and confident step that leaves no room for question or hesitation. harper lee is officially a part of serenity’s crew now, a paid crew member, a guardian angel for all those who can’t protect themselves whenever they touch ground. a free person with no strings attached whenever they’re up in the air - or that’s what she likes to believe at least.

but after her initial interaction with jaewon and the normal hustle of settling into her very own quarters, there is one specific place she needs to go first. a specific person, someone she can’t hardly not greet first now that she knows that they’re aboard as well. which is how she ends up standing in the door opening of the mess hall, eyes focused on the blonde haired woman seated there. casually leaning against the door post, harper clears her throat.

“what’s a beautiful woman like you doing sitting all by herself?” she questions, in that familiar tone of voice that a lot of people tend to use whenever they try out a really shitty pick-up line, assuming it’s going to get them a long end with whoever they’re trying it out on. obviously it never works out that way, especially not when harper and the blonde woman are gathered together. after all, united they stand strong.

already starting to grin shortly after the words have left her lips, harper pushes herself up from the doorpost the minute mina’s eyes are on her, and she easily lifts her hands a little, as if presenting herself.

@syxmina

jaewon is off to the side of his ship, the cortex connector pad in hand as he checks over the electrical systems, using his time in port in what he deems to be a wiser choice than most of the rest of his crew, running off to lose themselves in the bright and fantastical lights and glamour of the capital city. personally, jaewon thinks it’s much too cold for a celebration like this, gentle sihnonian breezes tugging at the long sleeves of his shirt, but while everyone else is riling up to go have fun, he’s decided to stay with serenity and clean her up a bit while she sleeps in port, so at least something productive will be happening while they’re here. this and, well, one other errand he’ll be getting to tomorrow.

he pushes that thought away with a frown, shaking his head a bit while golden irises sharpen against the coils and wiring, the fuses threatening to knot soon, but for now they’re suitable-- a constant state serenity seems to be in. something bright and blonde catches his eye suddenly, from the corner, and he peeks up to spot mina, almost surprised to think she’s heading out into sihnon until he recognizes the look on her features; she’s not happy. she doesn’t frown exactly, the ex-soldier abhorrent of giving away any such obvious details about herself, an iron mask plated over her lips, her cheeks, her tongue, a will as pitiless as bronze, but to mechanically enhanced senses like his, she’s an open book. most eyes don’t pick up the subtleties of mina’s character shimmering through her countenance, but jaewon can’t remember a time when he couldn’t, the vague atmosphere of her discontent something he’s quite familiar with by now.

on anon, tell me what you think of me and i’ll try to guess who it is

the smile is gentle, small, tucked between one heartbeat and the next, his eyes cascading downwards quickly, shifting from the thief’s gaze to the metallic flooring, which is somehow cooler than the moon of the boy, somehow less nerve-wracking than their eyes pinned to each other. he holds the sturdy, tanned, old guitar in his lap, his fingers still strumming lightly over the strings, nothing in particular for the past hour, but now suddenly they start tapping a melody.

“we were on boros once, my platoon and i, trying to take back this segment of land that had been nicked by the purples, and we were all huddled together in this dark, dank drench and– i dont know if you’d been to boros before the alliance settled it officially, but damn, no other planet could manage to be that fucking cold, and it was in the dead of winter.” a ghost of a shiver slides down his spine at the memory, the sight of his own breath, soft falling snow, icicles and crystals peeking out from the edges of the ground around them as he held some eighteen-year-old kid, desperately trying not to die. “we’d gotten stuck down, surrounded and starved, half of us bleeding out, and mina and i were trying to keep this soldier calm while he… well. anyway, she started singing this stupid lullaby. something from harvest i think.”

@syxkafka , @syxmina

a blanket across one arm, two bottles in his other hand with cups and treats balancing, jaewon makes his confident way through the hull of his home, the metal lit up and hued red and purple and orange from the glow of the comet, the shine casting shards of light across his features playfully. he barely stops for anyone, takes no questions, gives no answers, an uncharacteristic grin settling on the edges of his lips, the brightness of him impossible to ignore. he is all flare and brilliance tonight, the gold in his eyes bright and shimmering like wine, his countenance flamed with mute excitement and expectation. he’s not entirely sure of what, but for just tonight, he’ll let himself be filled brimming with it.

of all the millions of memories throughout the war that stick to his ankles as he walks, the ghosts latching into his skin like tiny hooks dragging on him with every step he takes, there is one bright moment that shine in his mind whenever he thinks about the prospect of losing mina. of something happening to her, something bad; her going to a place he can’t reach, where he can’t touch her.

they tell him that she’s missing, that her platoon infiltrated enemy camp and only a handful returned, broken, battered, bruised, leaderless, and his heart plummets into the ground below him, the world tilting off-axis, his muscles constricting, his own body out to suffocate him as though he doesn’t already have enough war fronts. despite however many times he demands to be allowed to go after her, to make sure she’s at least alive, that she still could remember him, she still could be saved, he’s denied. she’s not part of his duty roster, he has other people depending on him, and this is what it means to be torn in two, to be ripped to shreds. it’s not the first time he’s argued with his superior, but it’s the first time he’s ever really wanted to punch him in the face for telling him to stay.

stay and wait like a dog. he has to be forced out of the tent, forced to shut up, forced into submission, and told that if he breaks rank, he’ll be labeled a deserter, he’ll be just another problem for the independents to deal with. he’s put all his trust and belief into this war, and this is the first moment he regrets everything, this is the first moment he realizes it’s not worth it, nothing in the verse is worth being this cut open, this brutally raw.

nothing is worth losing mina over.

ACCEPTED

mina my secret softie, she’s such a cutiepie. this isn’t difficult to imagine, especially since jaewon hates goodbyes, hates giving them, hates getting them, never feels like he has the right wording ( a feeling he experiences quite often ) or the right responses. he probably often did this to mina, at least in the beginning, and probably there at the end, unable to say a farewell just because he never knew how long he’d be gone for and sometimes she’d look at him like he was supposed to say something about coming back, which was always a hope but never a certainty. and out of everyone on the crew, he lies to her the least.