Nature's Spirit

“She’s perfect.” Ilhood added. When it came to his mother, there was no biggest fan and maybe people would tell her how sweet of a child she had and how kids these days never listen to their parents and just don’t care about them  ninety percent of the time. He never cared for the father he didn’t have, but the lady that brought him to the world, she was his everything.

He wondered for a little while, to see if his mind would agree with Peniel when he told him he would be happy in Sanya. He only went there once and it was definitely not a very pleasant trip, but not because of the place but rather the situation he was caught in so that didn’t really count. Maybe if he was a native, yes, but nonetheless, he could never imagine himself being from somewhere other than his little island. He was the sand and the ocean and the wind and the scorching hot sun of that island embodied in one being and there was no other place he’d rather have been born other than there.

It was not hard to decide to close the umbrella and let the rain fall on him. The cold, fat, drops of water fell heavily, finding a path from his quickly flattening hair, through his neck and on to the light-colored shirt and light, orange cardigan. It was going to be quick to get drenched if the intensity didn’t slow down a little, but still, he could feel his body wanting to shield itself; make the drops of water levitate in the air, sealed ino little particles of the heavy, surrounding air. He kept himself from giving into temptation though and pretend to be the normal boy next door whom Peniel had just met and given his umbrella to.

“Food is worth almost everything.” He let out, hand raised and fingers pulling his, now, wet hair back. Despite the strong downpour, the temperature didn’t drop - in fact, the rain seemed to have ‘cut’ into the cold from before and made the night a little less cold. He wouldn’t want to get either hypothermia or a pneumonia or even a cold. God forbids Jung Ilhoon from getting sick because he was a whining baby who demanded even more attention than on a regular basis.

He thought about the question for no more than five seconds. The answer was already on the tip of his tongue and he found Peniel weird not for being so crazy about storms and rain, but for asking that kind of question. “Of course not, why would it be weird? And why would it be bad to like it more than ‘normal’. In fact, ‘normal’ is what you want it to be, really. Who says that what is normal for me is normal for you as well? We like what we like and no one has to say a damn thing about it. Maybe some people think it’s weird but who care? I sure don’t. It’s like someone being obsessed with unicorns or the color green. I mean, if you like green unicorns, then go and do it and be happy in your green-unicorn-world. There’s nothing wrong with it.”He spat, words said at the speed of light.

He bit his lip hard after his little “trick”, hoping desperately that the other was a mutant like himself. If not, he may have just chosen to write off this city in the list of cities that he could visit again. Fortunately, Ilhoon didn’t seem too aggravated by his shadow play, and instead seemed to understand what he was getting it. His use of the word “us” was also rather reassuring. 

Ilhoon was not too good at deciphering what people's expressions meant and their silence was often misunderstood and made him wonder instead of just giving him enlightenment. So, he had no idea what was going through Taekwoon's mind; he might as well be thinking about his favorite kind of cheese or plotting world domination and Ilhoon would think his expression looked the same. Maybe it was Taekwoon's face that was the problem. Probably, he decided.

But then there were words and those, he knew very well how to interpret. He knows what 'abilities' are when it comes to magicians like him or Taekwoon. He knew how they didn't need to hide the rabbit inside the hat to make something amazing happen and most of all, he knew their magic was genuine.

"How..." He started, but stopped, realizing that the sentence was not coming out as he'd thought in his head. It sounded stupid and he didn't want to sound like that. He was smart enough not to make a fool of himself after all.

Laying down on his couch with a pair of old gray sweats and a white shirt, Jonghyun wondered what he was going to get for lunch this time. He didn’t have anything to make in his apartment. Possibly he had some peanut butter, milk, and a half bottle of whiskey and three beer bottles.

Sitting up as he hears the insufferable knocking of who can only be Ilhoon. Groaning he stretches before moving slowly to open the door. Rolling his eyes at the kid’s words Jonghyun pulls the door open and shakes his head at his antics.

Ilhoon positively hops inside, little childish jumps before he closes the door by using his foot and then makes a beeline and places himself behind the couch where the older has collapsed on. It's easy for him to throw himself and place both his arms around the man's neck, keeping him in a gentle lock while he whines at him. 

Youngmin frowns at the tips of his shoes, not at all pleased with the new mission. He’d very much rather do it alone, or with someone he’s more comfortable with, but he hasn’t much choice in the matter.

Jung Ilhoon. He doesn’t know the other terrorist well, so he’s not entirely sure why the powers-that-be would pair them up together. It’s not for a lack of trying, (it is, actually, he isn’t good at being friendly), but maybe they just don’t click. Not to mention the fact that Ilhoon’s a little awkward around him, for reasons unknown. Still, he doubts it’ll be difficult working with Ilhoon. Make the most of it, right?

Which leads to the million dollar question, really - where on earth is Ilhoon? He’d gone to the training rooms to find him, and even the training rooms, but no luck. Going over the details of the mission, he sighs and rubs at his face. Just the details alone sound painful. He’s going to have to track the other down soon, to discuss it. Youngmin runs his finger over the map, tapping the island they’re headed to. It’s slightly secluded, out of the way, with what might be a military facility stationed there. Hence the mission.

Infiltrating the facility doesn’t sound particularly difficult, but it’s definitely not that easy either. He’s well aware he can’t afford to mess up this mission, not after that mix up with the blond boy.

Youngmin turns his phone on, more a habit than anything, automatically opening up the messaging app. Kwangmin’s icon is dead and apparently not online, but he scrolls down a little to find the little green symbol beside a very much familiar username, and grins, clicking on the other’s name.

janus95: hey

janus95: god help me i got paired up with someone at work and i do not know him

janus95: he’s also disappeared i can’t find him ugh

Turning the corner, Youngmin stows his phone away into the front pocket of his jeans. He has to look for Ilhoon. The common room turns up empty, unfortunately. A quick peek at his phone tells him the other person hasn’t replied either, but he doesn’t really expect that quick a reply. Oh well. He steps out of the common room, and very nearly knocks into someone else.

He is an individualist. He loves people, but he likes to do these things on his own. The fact that someone thinks there is a need for two people to complete that one assignment, makes him think that there has to be a catch somewhere in there. And it makes him think even more about that when he finds out just who he’s been paired with. Out of all the people on that base… why him?

They’re awkward. No, scratch that, they’re more than awkward. Ilhoon rarely talks to Youngmin; he tries to avoid him, yes, he can admit that to himself (but never to the other male, of course), nor can he disclosure the reasons that make him so uncomfortable by just looking at his face. The whole thing makes the hair on his arms stand up; it makes him think of things he doesn’t want to, of a past he didn’t bury deep enough and how cruel is life to place a carbon copy of someone he can’t see, right in front of him? Maybe Youngmin is getting the short end of the stick even without knowing, but life wasn’t fair anyway.

Hiding in his room won’t make the mission go away, but it gives him some more time to study the few details he needs to revise before he leaves. It’s not too long before he does so and in the end, he is walking down the corridor, passing through rooms and more rooms before he is remotely close to where he is supposed to meet the other terrorist. But still, he is distracted by the soft vibration of his phone inside his pocket, taking it out only to see the notification and the familiar username. He thinks he has time for one quick reply even after musing over the fact that his online friend seems to be having a similar problem to him. It never failed to amuse him how often that happened too.

mj1004: same

when he entered into the room, he saw a familiar face that made him smirk just a little bit. how cute, wasn’t that ilhoon? he was someone that yoongi saw sometimes, but what interested yoongi was his gift. ilhoon had this very, very weird power that he didn’t know how to describe. either way, yoongi just decided to steer clear- he really wasn’t in the mood to spar.

that is, until he heard that stupid nickname being called and immediately he turned around; slowly for dramatic effect.

asshole.

"the fuck did you just call me?" yoongi growled lowly before making his way closer to the other. "if you wanted to fuckin’ fight you could have just asked. was that name really necessary?" he could feel himself getting worked up over some stupid name- which was unlike yoongi entirely. ugh. ilhoon, you asshole.

"I thought you were used to it by now." He spat back, defiant as always, obviously. He was just not too sure if he was talking about the nickname or just him being a regular asshole to him. Probably both. "But I was being nice, hyung-gi. And affectionate too. Can't you feel it? All my affection pouring out... allllll of it. No?" He shook his head then, cutely for good measure, and then tilted it, only to give the ace his coy smile. Sarcasm should have been his middle name.

He watched on, curious, as Ilhoon took a hold of his hand. Taekwoon tapped the rim lightly with his other hand and thought of the cold, a little doubtful that it could work. This just seemed so preposterous. But in front of his eyes, Taekwoon watched as the glass above the water turned foggy with the cold, and he felt the glass on his hand become cold. 

His smile widened, and he chuckled with a small shake of his head, “How.. How on earth did you do that?” It wasn’t possible, not really. Temperatures didn’t drop that suddenly. It was only then that a tiny inkling of a thought crept into his mind, and his eyes glinted a little mischievously. 

"You’re a… special kind of magician, aren’t you?" The younger didn’t seem like the type who would go screaming to his parents the moment he saw a mutant… And even if that was the case, Taekwoon could get out of the city fairly quickly. Just never show my face in this city again, not that difficult. Either way, he decided to take a gamble. 

“Of course I’m special. I’m the best magician you’ll ever find.” The reply was ambiguous, of course, not really that compromising if the older male was not talking about what he thought he was. Then again, why would he even think or talk about it? Sure, there were a lot of youg people aware of mutants and their abilities, but Taekwoon didn’t strike him as the type to go around pointing fingers.

“...” He blinked at Taekwoon for a few seconds, trying to understand what he meant by what he said. As far as he knew, Ilhoon was the only ‘magician’ around. “How--” And then he looked down at the dancing shadow, fairly impressed with what he was watching - even if he was not too sure about what that was. He’d seen quite a few odd things in that world and mutant powers are really not a novelty for him - well, duh - but the fact that he was still naive enough to think that meeting one was not easy, still lingered.

“That kind…” What kind, he wanted to ask, but how could he withoug giving himself away? In a way, he had already when he gave the older a glimpse of what he could do, but still, admitting was scary. “You mean, the kind that doesn’t need a curtain to divert the crowd’s attention?” And by that he means the kind that doesn’t need tricks to DO his tricks.