𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝙎𝙐𝙉

howdy friends! it's ya boy nin with golden sun man, geum taeyang the flying axolotl joke imugi. i haven't rped in a hecking long while so i'm very excited to be here and hopefully will get the opportunity to write with y'all. i'll have a summary of his life underneath, but in the meantime pls consider liking this pathetic attempt of an intro and i'll belly flop straight into your dms 🐬

bio – plots

"and you're kind of ugly—" he retorts, a little too quickly and defensively that the pause in his words come a little too late. it was always 'a little too' something. he was either always a little too impatient, a little too harsh, a little too generous, a little too— "...hey, i didn't mean it like that— it was a joke. sohui, it was a joke."

palms coming to rub aggressively at tear torn eyes, darkened hues that glistened with a film of sadness as he nudges the tiny fish coffin off by the shore, allowing it to travel downstream. and he hopes his little buddy puddles would find peace and guidance into fish heaven.

he thought crying would fill the pit inside of him, the crater that left his soul empty— though, it doesn't take long for him to realise that he hadn't shed tears in over a millennium, that now the attempt itself made him appear more hideous than intended. the stiff upper lip, the unmoving brows that kept the same position above squinting hues that would mimic the movement of his pathetic attempt of wailing in pain.

she had a point. he was an ugly crier— was he going to agree with her? absolutely not, not over his dead body.

having seen her reaction, gaze averting as if in attempts to mediate the situation. perhaps he was being too hard on the other, but the thought quickly settles as she speaks again. this time, a chuckle huffs passed his lips, "los angeles?" he repeats, "what? are you lost?" it had been a while since he had allowed himself to travel out passed the imaginary walls of comfort that he had set up for himself. walls that felt as though they were caving in by the day, taunting him to leave. coaxing him to venture out into the wilderness and taste the air of recklessness again. temptation testing him every day that he breathes in the familiar air of isolation.

"taeyang." a digit raises to point at the blue canvas overhead, clouds painting the sky, "like the sun." he adds, a smirk tugging at his corners.

if anyone knew what homesick was, it would be him. the agonising pain that etched itself inside of him, yearning to venture back home to where his rivers once flowed. to embrace the streams that once nurtured him, nostalgia lacing the tip of his forefinger as it dabbles on the edge of the water once more.

the trail should be empty by now. the sun was setting and the glimpses of the evening zephyr was incoming, feeling the brisk breeze scathing gently by his temples. ebony strands tousled as digits would move to rake them back into position, having just guided an elderly couple back on track and onto the right pathway home. the silvery tones adorning the perimeter of creased cheeks and foreheads, smile lines that were evident of a life worth living - a good one, a fun one, one filled with happiness. what was that like? finding the corners of his lips perking up with subtlety. he couldn't help but feel a sense of warm reignite within him, withering away at his hostility.

the clothes hanging from his shoulders evidence enough of who he was, taking strides to ensure everyone was beginning to head off. whoever refused would be participating in a game of trophy hunting, whereby the rivers of hallasan would run red, ripe with disobedience. a sport he participated well in, hands dyed a bruised tint of sanguine that not even the shades of his bleached bones could rip them off from his scales of gold.

and he spots another hiker, a delayed nod in response to the other's greeting only to be met with a face filled with tears. he couldn't help the disgust that instinctively tugged across his features, mortified by the outcome of this meeting. a hand extends for a moment before withdrawing, deciding that perhaps it's singular pat on her shoulder would not help in the slightest and might even warrant as harassment.

"am i that ugly? well, shit..." a sigh leaving him, if this was the response that she was giving him as a grown adult, he now understood why every child would burst out in tears at the sight of him. he was hideous, inside and out. "uhh - do you... uhh, need help?" the disgust on his features subsiding to an awkward pull of his corners, "it's not that safe out here at this time." he adds, in attempts to make up for his prior expression, taking a glimpse of her features - a sense of familiarity rings within him but a name does not appear in his reverie.

he freezes for a moment, a slight crease imprints in between his brows and something flickers within him, the same flicker of ash within him ignites into a flame. it burns with familiarity and leaves a trail of longing - nostalgia was the feeling his soul yearned for but he blames it on the river flowing beside. he doesn't remember much other than having seen red, a deep deep shade of red - one that painted his skies so dark that not even the sun could penetrate through the walls of crimson. as if engulfed by a flame of hatred so agonising that all he could remember was screaming, screaming for her to run, to get away, to not let the hunters lay a finger on her. he would be the sacrifice to keep those within his river safe - and he remembers having his scales pried off one by one, restrained by chains.

then - he remembers black, he remembers being surrounded by sacks of organs, a deserved fate for attempting to test the godless serpent.

her features appeared different beneath the moonlit sky, a sense of familiarity flickers beneath layers of apathy within his starless reverie. a sky full of stars, yet none shone in his own – a world so enveloped by tenebrosity that he couldn't even see his own digits before him.

sightless were his eyes, and senseless were his hands attempting to grasp for a safety net – though nothing came to reassure him. he was left to his own demise, to face his own inner scrimmage and confront the plaguing pain of having both his scales pried from his flesh and his horns scathed and chiseled to deformity. a fist balls up unbeknownst to him, almost instinct at the sudden anger that grits at his teeth but his darkened hues remain deceivingly calm.

her words only making him feel more bitter, only brings up more scarring memories that flood his reverie. languid were his usual movements, contrasting the bee hive that was his mind. trapping him within the confines of reinforced cages that shackled him down by hatred and he was nothing like the glimmering light of hope the sun symbolised. he was the burning hatred, the obnubilating flame of unspoken agony, the insatiable hunger for blood shed – nothing like the name he was given.

golden were his scales, though no longer – as they scatter with irregularity on both his arms and neck. he must look crazy with how he's staring at her without much purpose, fist balled with gritted teeth.

mountain ranges and water ways that weave throughout the park, like threads that bleed through the cerulean channels within his palms. it was safe to say that he knew them well, well enough that not even the enveloping darkness of dusk could lead him astray. he felt safe within the confines of the parklands, a vast contrast to the person that he used to be – finding both fear and indignation carving deep into his insides, a core rotting with a drive for vengeance. insatiable was the urge that he had to crush ivory in between bloodied knuckles, but alas – though it simmers, it also settles.

and he remembers holding a blade, all too familiar betwixt digits that were craving retribution for the iniquity shown amongst his kind by the hunters. the fury burns through him and it a split of second, everything dissipates to obsidian, swallowed up by a hatred so rampant that the blade slips from in between his grasped. he feels it carve in between flesh, then it falls – a suppressed curse slips pass his lips as a sigh. a foot planted on the other's wound, a careless shove of his limb, hearing the impact against the water as he hurriedly makes haste for hiding. too driven by anger that his digits begin to glimmer with gold.

disposition unchanged, though he learns to better manage his anger – or at least he thinks. improvement.

the breeze tousles his strands gently, footsteps not too concerned with where they're heading. though, the voice catches him off guard, gaze directing to the other by the water's edge, a brow raising slightly in response. he lets his darkened hues trail the other's actions, but before he could say anything – the other had already admitted to his actions. "does this look like a petting zoo?" moving an arms length beside the other, he squats down and allows his own digits to fall onto the surface of the river. his words contradicting his motions, "they've already been fed not too long ago." he decides to add.

he wasn't sure how effective this was going to be. luring in fish with nothing but the gentle dabble of digits against the ever-serene surface of water. fingertips creating tiny ripples that would coax even tinier fish to approach. perhaps, it was his aura – altruism only in the presence of nature and it's fauna, that drew in it's wildlife.

he feels his knuckle scathe pass numerous scales, the subtle flickering against his skin reminding him of his own – or at least, what's left of it. his gaze trailing down to the arm that was plastered by a thick fabric, encasing wounds that would never heals, scars that would never fade and discolouration that would never change. a special kind of anger lights inside of him, gaze unknowingly narrowing in as a subtle crease paints across his brows.

the sudden voice takes him by surprise, darkened hues widening slightly as they move to meet with other. simultaneously, his digits freeze, feeling the tiny scales all scrambling away beneath the surface of the water's edge. a sigh leaving him.

steady hands pressed against a ball of strands beneath water, the struggling stops momentarily but the bubbles continue. it was almost muscle memory at this point. digits locking into their place, the stiff strain on his knuckles no longer a pain point of resistance but rather, he has built comfort in the disjointed way his ligaments were glued together. irregularity shaping his golden– guised by ivory flesh.

and he finally releases his victim with a sigh of relief, watches it float without purpose and assumes they'll be devoured by some mountain beast soon enough, much like all the others before it. a shrug follows, maintaining his stiffened shoulders as a veil of black befalls his frame.

he decides to finally retreat back into the comfort of the wilderness between the roots of the trees. the day's zephyr scathing gently by his temples, feeling a sense of calm washing over him like talons grazing a fresh wound. the adrenaline subsides but the bitterness remains heightened, no matter what he did– nothing would ever change the perfidy of human kind.

obsidian hues catch the glimmer of fabric by the water, careful footsteps leading him astray from the path of temporary ataraxy. a foot slithers through the dense greenery before the other would follow, arms raised with caution – prepared to throw punches and perhaps another head beneath water. ambitious.

clothes.

he stares for a moment at the heap by his feet, then up at the thing lingering nearby. he maintains his gaze, brows knitting slightly, "what... kind of fish are you?" long limbs moving to a squat by the edge, forearms resting against his knees.

the hazy glimmer of the aquarium lights befalling his surroundings, almost gleamed with phosphorescence as a knuckle lifts to tap gently against the thick glass of the tank. a feeling of easiness settles into his lungs, pupils adjusting as an obsidian screen stretches across tired hues. the golden shimmer of the once hopeful iris, fading alongside the inevitable truth that he too, would soon outlive these his new companions.

digits tapping in rhythm against the glass, a few curious eyes following, some seemed to trail along his fingertips – corners curling upwardly in amusement, more out of the warmth that gradually rekindles inside his charred lungs. this had always been his sanctuary, a safe space that allowed his mind to roam free – reverie cleansed of all things that tainted the silk of his psyche. though, it doesn't make him feel any less saddened by the thought that these animals were held captive – held against their own will. autonomy lost to the capturers in the guise of a sanctuary... his sanctuary. it felt wrong, of course it did but the innate feeling to nurture them was also overwhelming. a conflict of interest, an inner scrimmage that would make him question his principles.

though, inconsistency seemed to be his personality trait.

at a time like this, not many visit the aquarium. it allowed him time to deviate from his usual allocated position. and no matter how much time he would spend dwelling amidst the glass, the tiles glistening against the reflection of the water never ceased to bring him a sense of comfort. light, scarcely hitting the surface of the glass and with what little made it through – seemed to scintillate with a majestic glow.

then, then – he hears an all too familiar voice that echoes gently through the vicinity. a brow raising, not a word has left him yet presumptions of a voice were given to him. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, unlike the other staff – he could care less what the visitors do, so long as they don't attempt to crack the glass and cause more casualties than necessary. as much as human casualties were encouraged, he wasn't sure if his fish friends would make through unharmed.

he didn't expect a chatterbox from the frequent that had one of his favourite fish wrapped around his finger, ill from his absence. a subtle frown warps at his features, "i'm afraid we aren't accepting complaints at the moment, we're running low on managers who care." a digit raising again, tapping gently against the glass, attempting to lure out his fish friend.