𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

STEVEN YUEN + CISGENDER MALE + HE/HIM ⸻ ( SMELL OF LATEX GLOVES, DREAD OF THE WOLF IN THE SHEEP’S MASK, & CALLUSES OF THE HANDS ) - the previous are indications of an individual smelling of ANTISEPTIC roaming in the city. though sightings of JUSTIN CHUL, the THIRTY-TWO year old EX-MEDICAL ASSISTANT have been scarcely reported in the underground. rumors of their DETERMINED + RESOURCEFUL demeanor aren’t to be undermined, since admonitions would warn against their NOSY + INTRUSTIVE nature. as our records indicate, they sympathize with NEUTRALITY. there is no doubt their reputation precedes them as THE RELUCTANT SURVIVOR.

he doesn’t mean to be invasive– not really. it’s a trait he has or it was perhaps learned behavior passed onto him by the many undesirables in his life– an obtrusive father, meddling bandmates, bad influences for best friends and the others Maverick tends to surround himself with. the lifestyle he lead was the sole cause for the lost soul he carried with him– if a soul was something he still had. it’s a habit of his– to smother himself with that which is superficial, abrasive and more or less toxic. he’s not naive of this, not entirely, but he is oblivious to the type of demeanor he does exude.  in fact, maverick is far more friendlier than he tends to believe of himself. he doesn’t really like to harm flies, no, but squashing those the big mosquitoes that fuck with people’s happiness– that was more or less his whimsy. he doesn’t see the other as a fly, but more as a bee, busy on their way– perhaps far to busy for him.

pulling off his sunglasses, he pops his head out into the aisle looking for neon signs, and a stall that does hold the namesake the other’s spoken. “You see, I knew it was something like that. I always forget when I come here– if it’s not obvious, I don’t come here often.” he lies, “I’m shit at making my own food, and the grubhub district is, more or less, speedy in their service.” he laughs at his own insides jokes– a ghoul has no real business ordering food from those chain restaurants, of course.

“Hey, thanks, by the way, I was starting to get antsy thinking I would have to ask a shop owner, and get conned into buying fresh shrimp that I wouldn’t know how to clean. OR worse, get asked by a random customer how to clean shrimp–” he, once again laughs at his own jokes. “The small talk kills me, you know?” but the jokes keep on coming, “–You know how to clean shrimp, right?” 

Usually, any attempt from a stranger too further a conversation would set of red flags to Justin, signaling for him to get out of the situation as fast as possible. However, this time was different. He didn’t know why but something about this particular stranger was almost calming; someone Justin could let his guard down around. He’s never really felt this way towards a stranger before, other than Nikhil. Perhaps this is a result of his longing for friendship. Justin decided to play along, just to be safe, or so he told himself. Never know how strangers will react to him backing away from a conversation.

“Yeah, sort of...”, Justin said cautiously. He picked up another small bag of potatoes from the same stand, pretending to examine it. “I used to help my mom with cooking when I was little and she would always get me to do that”. Instantly, Justin felt a sense of embarrassment. Was he oversharing? He hadn’t socialized with a stranger in a long time, so he didn’t know. 

⸻ 𝐦𝐚𝐯 & @umbrul·

some would say that seeing a ghoul out and about is bad luck. though it’s a superstition most humans don’t necessarily have the luxury of fully knowing. a pair of red eyes typically smoldered in the moonlight, but a pair of sunglasses could hide his identity well–– not just the ghoul identity, but the identity of a famed bassist for a band that played in the area frequently. un-triggered kakugan were careful in their dealings at the trading post. Maverick was in search of coffee beans. and while typically he was one to shop in the local coffee shop for their best arabica, robusta, liberica, or excelsa he was in the market for something genetically modified with a stronger taste. 

maverick is only shopping for coffee beans– but the grocery booths and aisles are confusing him. it’s one of the places he is unfamiliar with. a ghoul of thirty years, has never really had to shop for his own food– not in the normal sense, at least. he looks confused, and his stance would suggest that he is a heavily guarded individual, but it’s just the anxiousness he feels in shopping alone. despite trying to remain incognito, he does have questions. controlling his mouth is ever so hard. “I’m helpless.” a deep sigh carries as he turns to the other– “I’m sorry to bother,” the human has an interestingly clean smell to him– a hint latex and a dash of antiseptic. physicians, he believes are those he can trust– but that’s nothing but a a blind assumption on his part, “But would another lost soul care to tell the other where he might find the coffee beans?” 

Justin has always had bad luck, especially in the past month, but something about the Trading Post made him naturally loosen his guard. The hustle and bustle of strangers focused on getting the freshest produce and the dim lights felt nice to Justin. Here, he was never the focus of anyone’s attention, not even a thought. Here, he was Justin Chul again, not a runaway. Amidst the white noise of shoppers, he felt the tension between his shoulder blades lift. Taking in the moment of the odd respite, he felt himself smile as he examined a small bag of potatoes from one of the stands. Tonight could be a curry night.

Justin’s moment of peace was interrupted when a stranger asked him a question. Startled, Justin leapt back. He was just called a “lost soul”. How did he know Justin was lost? Justin tried to ignore the phrase, this wasn’t the first eccentric he’s seen in the town. The man seemed as seedy as the rest of the denizens of this part of town, so it was hard to tell how much he could be trusted. Maybe it was something in his voice or the lingering effect of Justin’s tranquility a minute ago, but he didn’t feel as on edge with this person as other strangers. Still, best to keep up his guard.

Justin took a moment to compose himself and gestured towards a stall a couple meters away. “You’re looking for Gin’s Beans”, he said as calmly as he could. “the one with the red neon lights and steam coming out of it. Can’t miss it.”

umbrul·:

Another sleepless night. While other noises, like the constant whirling of machines at use, sparks of welding and soldering, contributed to the noise, this time it was the TV that was unbearable. To make things worse, speakers were set up throughout the living areas of the apartment, ironic for a deaf person. Justin had been trying to be respectful for the free room and board, but even he had his limits. Throwing off the covers, Justin sat up in frustration, but quickly composed himself. Nikhil was a nice dude and he probably didn’t even know due to his disability. With a quick sigh, Justin put on the silver band from his nightstand, stood up, and walked out of the room to confront his new roommmate.

Nikhil was in the living room, rewiring the fingers of a cybernetic arm retrieved from a dumpster dive earlier in the day.  The news was replaying the events from the past weekend with captions so he could read. Before Justin could open his mouth, Nikhil quickly pressed the button on the silver band.  “sorry,” the word appeared above him as he typed.  “not used to a roommate.  was i being too noisy?”

Justin typed on the silver band as a response, careful to be respectful with his words. 

“Sort of. It’s not your work that’s the issue though. The TV volume could be lowered, since there’s speakers all over the house.”

Justin was still getting used to such old technology.

oh, so the volume was on.  he wondered if nikolai had left it like that all those years ago, and neither him nor his mom had ever bothered to change it.  nikhil grabbed the remote from underneath the table and pressed the mute button, effectively fixing the problem ( at least, he hoped so ) . 

“i’ve had the tv on for almost two hours,” nikhil typed.  “were you just … laying there awake for that entire time?”  nikhil made a face, torn between bewilderment, guilt, and amusement. he wouldn’t have known had justin not said anything; but, then again, perhaps nikhil should’ve been more accommodating and considerate.  the words shifted above his head: “just let me know next time.  i would’ve turned it down a lot sooner.”

Even in his sleepless state, Justin felt a small sense of guilt of having someone whose essentially his provider accommodate to him. 

“Oh, It’s not a b-”, Justin started saying before realizing. 

“Oh, It’s not a big deal,” Justin  hurriedly typed as he fumbled with the machine. “I’m kind of used to noise anyways. But thank you, I appreciate it”. He nodded with an apologetic smile.

Justin stopped turning halfway into his room and looked at the device on his arm. He had been scouring his brain for the last few days, thinking of ways to repay Nikhil for his kindness. Justin didn’t like the thought of debt, even intangible ones. Perhaps it was time for an upgrade. 

Justin turned back to Nikhil and made sure he got his attention through hand gestures before typing.

“Listen-” Justin started typing, before deleting the word and starting over. “Hey, I just wanted to say”, Justin started before back tracking a bit. “I just wanted to express my thanks for taking me in, especially when you don’t really benefit from it. I’ve been looking for a way to repay you and I think I know how.”

another sleepless night.  at least this time it wasn’t due to nightmares — or perhaps, it was always due to nightmares.  maybe his body was just trying to warn him, that if he went to sleep this time, the nightmare would be waiting, and it’d be furious.

instead, nikhil was out in the living room, rewiring the fingers of a cybernetic arm retrieved from a dumpster dive earlier in the day.  the tv was on; the news was replaying the events from the past weekend, the high speed chase from the mall.  he didn’t believe it, and the uptick in patients definitely told him something fishy was up.

out of the corner of his eyes, he saw movement suddenly.  nikhil looked up, nodded at his roommate politely, and then realized that it was three a.m. — and he was tinkering with metal and he didn’t even know if the tv was muted or on at max volume — what did he care, after all?

he quickly pressed the button on the silver band.  “sorry,” the word appeared above him as he typed.  “not used to a roommate.  was i being too noisy?”

( closed starter ) @umbrul·

Another sleepless night. While other noises, like the constant whirling of machines at use, sparks of welding and soldering, contributed to the noise, this time it was the TV that was unbearable. To make things worse, speakers were set up throughout the living areas of the apartment, ironic for a deaf person. Justin had been trying to be respectful for the free room and board, but even he had his limits. Throwing off the covers, Justin sat up in frustration, but quickly composed himself. Nikhil was a nice dude and he probably didn’t even know due to his disability. With a quick sigh, Justin put on the silver band from his nightstand, stood up, and walked out of the room to confront his new roommmate.

Nikhil was in the living room, rewiring the fingers of a cybernetic arm retrieved from a dumpster dive earlier in the day.  The news was replaying the events from the past weekend with captions so he could read. Before Justin could open his mouth, Nikhil quickly pressed the button on the silver band.  “sorry,” the word appeared above him as he typed.  “not used to a roommate.  was i being too noisy?”

Justin typed on the silver band as a response, careful to be respectful with his words. 

“Sort of. It’s not your work that’s the issue though. The TV volume could be lowered, since there’s speakers all over the house.”

Justin was still getting used to such old technology.

@nadiris-ex·

Some investagators would say the worst part of their job is the danger or the risk. For Baron, it was working on a Sunday. The disgruntled investagator drudged his feet to the nearest 7-11. 

His plan was to just grab breakfast and head out. But of course his plan was thwarted as the microwave wasn’t turning on. There was banging as he tried to jumpstart the microwave, anything to get his hot pocket done. 

Baron surrendered as he stepped back from the microwave, spotting someone in the corner of his eyes. He shrugged at the stranger. 

“You can have a go at it if you like.” 

Justin gave the stranger next him in the 7-11 the side-eye, glancing between him and the microwave. The machine was not showing lights. 

“Did you check to see if it’s plugged in?”

:about

:threads

:musings

:visage

:self-para