She was in no position to refuse his request, he knows – bloodlust pumps through his mind as naturally as the blood in his veins, filling his expression with a twisted wickedness that certainly doesn’t belong there, not from the outside looking in. But in his head there’s nothing but that, buzzing so loud that he can’t dream of fighting back – he is so weak-minded, so terribly impulsive no matter how he should know the consequences of his actions.
Still, it fills him with a sick sort of joy to hear Hyuna’s voice breaking out like that, to see her writhing, feel how her body struggles against his (but he’s not weak, physically, even if his nerves and veins don’t seem to sustain him most days); he’s ecstatic, not even to mention how goddamn good it feels to push pain out of his synapses and into another’s.
Keep reading
Hyuna nearly chokes on the momentary reprieve, the muscles in her throat spasming as she gasps for breath. Wide eyes stare, still welling with tears as she wonders if her pleading somehow broke through… but there are no such mercies.
Hyuna trembles, both in pain and fear in pure confusion as to why this is happening -- she wants, so badly, to be comforted by Gyuri’s expression and the familiarity of her touch, but it’s so twisted and dizzyingly wrong.
(It’s not beyond her reasoning that this is yet another macabre illusion brought on by the poison’s aftereffects, or that the ringleader is the one lurking somewhere out of sight. But is it? It’s not ending, and she’s unaware of the biological timer set by the poison and how soon it is to tick out.)
“W-wh--” she starts, wincing as Gyuri’s fingers meet her shoulder. She doesn’t know if she’s asking why or what or any specific question, but she’s forgotten to make words -- it’s pathetic, almost like the whimpering of a beat dog past a bleeding, bitten down lip, and her struggling just as weak when her limbs seem to have given up and folded under the assault. When her shoulder is wrenched apart once again, that’s when Hyuna really screams -- burning pain she’d only really been given a taste of before now spreads like wildfire through her flesh and breaks her all the more thoroughly.
She’s screaming her name, head thrown back -- screaming for her to stop with the little bit of breath she can draw with her pressed so suffocatingly close until the sounds break into sobs -- even if there are no such words involved or any such end in sight.
When her skull hits the ground it’s like she’s just accepted it, given in like her body has to let Gyuri do what she wants -- it’s jarring and it hurts but she can’t do anything anyway; it’s not like she can stop this with her energy sapped away by the poison in her veins. The way her stomach’s turning is not so much from the pain (but that--that too) but for how sickened she is by how much Gyuri’s enjoying this -- that she seems to be somehow just as enthralled by how Hyuna’s trapped under her. The vacant look in her eyes makes it feel all the more nightmarish, like she’s been entirely replaced by one of the horrors that have turned this place into a living hellhole, with all the malicious intent and voice of one.
In reply to Gyuri’s questions (does she even expect an answer?), Hyuna only can whimper and avoid the cold gaze so close to her face now, eyes closing tightly as if to shut her out -- tear trails sullen her now bloodily christened cheeks (but naturally, the visual is lost to anyone but Gyuri.)
She realizes then that if this goes on, Gyuri is going to kill her -- slowly, painfully, every second dragged out with all the careless malice of a predator who knows her prey is defenseless under her claws.
(Far more distantly she recalls the violent screaming of a rabbit one of the barn cats had caught when she was living out in the country -- the cat had tossed it into the air for hours and quickly carried it off every time one of the hands had gone to put the poor thing out of its misery, the cat only pleased with her catch.)
Her free hand claws at Gyuri in an extra burst of adrenaline, dull nails digging into her skin in an attempt to both shove her away and inflict pain of her own -- her feet scrabble at the ground, legs uselessly trying to buck her off or get any measure of control even if all she ends up doing is grabbing at Gyuri’s clothes instead to have any measure of grounding herself. Somewhere deep down she realizes -- or hopes -- that this isn’t her and the words that spill past her lips then, hissed and weak, are to that effect even if she’s pleading again.
A twisted laugh of her own cracks from her throat. She’s not going to make it.
(The last of the poison starts to break down in her veins.)
will be getting to messages and replies shortly! going over my plot pages currently as they are (especially hyuna’s) in need of revamping!!
i’m hurrying to messages (cause i keep falling behind sobs) and if i don’t get to you in the next day and it’s been a bit, feel free to poke me please cause otherwise i’ve probably missed you somehow!!
Although his plans for the evening didn’t quite add up to the choice which he ended up making, Zhixiang doesn’t find himself feeling any tinge of regret for having opted to go for a detour. In fact, he’s quite pleased – Hyuna is a sight to behold all on her own, but it’s not her looks which spark his interest. Rather, he revels in the way that she seems to bristle at his presence, in how his words affect her without delay. Still, he remains playful at best.
The corner of his lips twitches slightly, though a smirk is bit back from forming onto his lips; she acknowledges the other as a threat, as a result of both strength and her ability. He aches to tell her that she was wrong in interpreting his words, but remains silent instead – quietly contemplates over his options while his eyes fall to the woman’s hands, where electricity crackled ever so slightly. “I never thought I would hear that coming from you,” he admits while closing up the space between the two of them by half a step.
“I’m surprised,” sarcasm stands out clear in his tone, yet he furthers the charade just to see where exactly the limits lay, “But I’m thrilled to know, nonetheless.” Like a lion, he circles around her, gaze never straying from her figure. Even in the dim light provided by the lamp, Zhixiang could see her clearly – this, too, was another one of the many perks of his own powers. With hands folded at his lower back, he comes to a halt when he’s directly at her left side and casts his gaze upward to look at the sky.
“I hope you know that it isn’t safe for a delicate flower such as yourself to be out when the dark settles in,” he says as he comes to look back at her, “You never know what could happen.” While his words may have come out sounding as a mix between a warning and a threat, there was hardly anything to back them up; there was little interest he showed in the other, even when it came to sexual advances. However, he wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure of having her blood boil in a different manner.
She can feel his eyes on her and it’s just extra kindling to the fire whether or not the worst intentions that could be drawn exist or not -- thinly walled dams can take only so much before they burst in a scalding rush. Any reasonable being would recognize she did not desire their presence, she reasons, and it irritates her all the more. Hyuna loathes to be addressed in such a matter though she likely would not be able to articulate her exact distaste of Zhixiang. She just knows she dislikes the man; she doesn’t want him to grab her attention, and she doesn’t want his either. (And isn’t that good enough?)
Perhaps that it’s that he’s a bit predatory -- she never feels threatened or like there’s ever anyone who could supercede her in a natural hierarchy as someone more fundamentally apex, but mutants like him infringe on that boundary (but it might be that he comes across as predatory in another sense even if it is not naturally aimed at her.)
Hyuna’s something like flabbergasted when Zhixiang comes to stand right next to her, trying to figure out what he’s doing (she’s never one to just walk away from things, naturally), and maybe it is that she does feel threatened, if not all the more clear from how much of a scowl her expression is.
“Delicate flower?” she splutters, the words more of a mumble than clearly spoken. “Who could you even be referring to?” She turns to face him more fully and while her posture is not immediately aggressive, something held back in her limbs, there’s a hint of a defensive stance in the solid position of her feet. Her hands no longer crackle though, black marks silent -- but it’s no sign that she’s managed to tamp down the irritated feeling dredged up.
She laughs though.
“I think I have a pretty good idea.”
She’s given him more than enough warning -- if he can’t see what’s coming, he probably shouldn’t give his vision much credit.
In between long work hours, as well as moving left and right throughout the entirety of the Foundation, Bingbing has yet to find the time to catch her breath.
After the visit paid to the haunted house on the night of Halloween, most people that she held dear ended up in a pretty roughed up shape and when she learned of what happened, she could not sit idle – her mind did not give her peace, not until she would, at the very least, learn of how the others felt. Fatigue catches up to her with ease, her feet ache and her head pounds, yet none of that stops her from carrying on to another area of the medical ward or from showing up at the room of another fellow Potential.
She is here, there and everywhere.
How can there be a stop brought to helplessness? To the dark thoughts that linger at the back of her own mind, threatening to swallow her whole if focus is lost even for a second? A vigorous shake of the head is given; under no circumstances could she allow herself to fall prey to negativity. Her aid was required, be it through presence or whatever other means it could be offered, and that could not be given if she wasn’t in an appropriate mindset. With a deep breath inhaled, an attempt is made to shift the focus towards something positive. No matter how the prospect of things looked for the time being, it was not the end of the road – no, this would pass too.
A silent promise is made to herself in that moment, to persevere through this situation; not just for her sake, but for that of others. When it comes to herself, she cannot do much but when a spur is given, a small impulse caused by the people that Bingbing surrounds herself with, then even the impossible doesn’t seem hard to achieve. For them, she could move mountains and change the course of rivers.
The sky doesn’t remain a limit, because she sets herself up on reaching higher; past it and further than that.
As such, in the aftermath of a late-night conversation held in the past few days, her feet carry her to the Co Gender Hall. In her mind, an entire speech had already been forged; it was ready to be laid out, presented word for word to the person she had in mind to see on that very day. Of course, that is all very bluntly put – in reality, the manner in which everything will go remains unknown, and that depends greatly on whether or not she will even get as far as addressing the matter at hand. This isn’t just about talking or trying to clarify a situation, but about understanding – that is the solid base which she wishes to seek out first and foremost, because it’s on it that she might be able to build up on.
While it is important not to push or pull, it is of equal importance that she doesn’t come off strongly; however things are to progress, they should do so in a way that feels natural. That is where no guarantee is given on her being successful in the approach, though the fact doesn’t seem to discourage Bingbing, given that there is no trace of hesitance in her actions as she knocks a few times onto the door.
Her toes still haven’t started to wrinkle even after sitting in the bathtub so long. Hyuna’s almost used up the salts Yongsun had delivered for her; she knows it probably isn’t best that she’s been soaking her wounds in the stuff, but the prickling of the burns across her skin where fire had seared it only days before settles when the water rises up to her neck -- she doesn’t want to think about how she got them nor her second trip to the medical wards in the last few weeks; she’s had a pretty successful time avoiding leaving her bathroom, much less her dorm room either.
Even less does she want to think about her absent roommate or the duller ache of the wound on her shoulder; she just runs water until it goes cold and the salts melt to nothing, just letting it take the warmth and ache from her limbs and chest bit by bit.
Having already fallen asleep in the water only to awake with a start, the only things that really drag Hyuna from the bathroom are the thought of food, felines asking to be attended to, and a nagging itch to move around. She doesn’t bother to redo her bandages when she walks to the kitchen in a ridiculously oversized shirt and boxer shorts that have seen better days. There’s not a whole lot left in the fridge but she knows by now something will appear in it eventually. She’s toweling her hair off, not doing anything more than to munch on the last of a piece of celery when she hears the knocking.
She doesn’t know why she’s both relieved and disappointed when it’s Bingbing outside the peephole. (Was she somehow expecting her roommate? Who would knock when they have a key, anyway? ...She’s still somehow conflicted.)
One of the cats wiggles past her legs -- Diddi, tail tip flicking -- and she wonders if he had the same thought. She has him in her arms when she cracks the door open, her expression wary despite knowing the other, her chest strangely tight.
“Ah, Bingbing-unnie?” she mumbles, a weak attempt at greeting. Subconsciously she angles her good shoulder forward as she blinks at the elder woman. “Did… did you need something? ...To… talk?”
Even in a line of work like his, it’s so rare that Hongbin comes across an obstruction in the form of a person that for a long few moments, he’s really not sure what he’s supposed to do about this. It throws him off further that this lady is ─ Kyungil’s roommate, he’s determined ─ so up in arms about the thing; if someone comes across you but claims it’s an accident and they were going for someone else, why would that be any of your concern? He doesn’t get it, much like he doesn’t get why the lady’s so adamantly guarding the door as if she was out to protect something ─ as if she was out to protect Kyungil.
Hongbin’s pretty damn baffled, even now that he’s caught his breath and stabilized his footing.
The questions she snaps are no different than what Hongbin’s associated with the interrogation shot y a prosecutor towards a defendant. He could very well plead the fifth ─ it’s not like she has to know anything about what his intentions are; threat or not, he’s still more than willing to fight against her if she pushes too far ─ but instead he, shameless as he tends to be, accepts the guilty charges with a frustrated click of his tongue and a roll of his shoulders. She wants to know? Well it’s not really his problem if she finds that she doesn’t, now is it?
“Doin’ something? Was planning on it, yeah.” If it were hard to hide the hint of a smirk in his tone, he doesn’t show it; his lips may not twitch to show it on his face, but it still wraps around his words with some level of natural ease. “What’s it to you? It’s not like he’s gonna die.”
He shrugs, terribly nonchalant in both stance and speech. “Wanna know what I want? At this hour?” Cheeky, throwing her words back at her; he almost takes a step forward before he takes a glance at her hand, distantly wondering what ‘that’ actually entailed. “What do you think I’d want him for? To talk? No ─ I wanna fuck him, that’s what. Good enough an explanation for you?”
If one didn’t know any better, they’d likely assume his voice to be a marking of irritation; though it’s closer to the truth than not, it’s mostly a manifestation of impatience that bleeds through as such. “You wanna get outta the way, now? Unless you wanna take his place or somethin’.” The thought hadn’t crossed his mind until he said it; he’s not entirely sure what to think of her in that context, but sometimes he doesn’t think at all when he speaks.
She’s more bristled by the second, the casual arrogance around her visitor rubbing her exactly the wrong way. He might as well be the accused with how ready in fact she is to play prosecution -- and judge and executioner if need be, all one convenient package.
“That’s hardly reassuring,” she nearly hisses -- just not going to die? She’s baited, whether or not he intended it. Her skin’s faintly darker from how irritated she’s become, even before the other tosses out his reason in all its bold, unsugarcoated glory.
Alarm flashes across her features, quickly replaced by an embarrassed and flustered but still angry flush on her skin. Hyuna’s not prudish but certainly more naive (or perhaps ignorant) than she should be; it’s certainly not what she was expecting, whatever that might have been, but she realizes at least it makes sense; she certainly believes him. Not that she’s going to accept such an answer, though.
She’s completely dumbstruck until the insinuation toward herself -- and then she’s bristling anew in indignation. There’s nothing built into her to react rationally, only to respond as thoughtlessly than the other.
“What-what are you sayin’?” she snarls, taking a step closer but not moving much beyond the door, nearly bouncing in place. Little else other than no longer having the jump on the other and not knowing exactly what he is keeps her from acting on the impulse to strike him down, ideally leaving him plus more than a couple of broken bones and an extra hundred milliamps of current outside for the foundation staff to find.
“What’s wrong with you? You can’t possibly expect me to move just like that--” she laughs in disbelief, the noise not quite stable. “Assuming Kyungil actually wants that too--” doubt lacing her voice, dripping acidic, but she’s also clearly mixed up, confused beyond her threatening tone and stance, “That’s… that’s not my business... “
Her face immediately hardens. “But you decided to involve me.”
“No -- The only way I’m letting you past is out the front door. With me showing you out.”
She doesn’t think about what she’s inviting either next, nor is she thinking of anything beyond obtaining more reason to light him up with current.
If Yongsun could will the state of her heartbeat down to its resting level, she would. Rather than claiming it to be fear or something of the sort, she’d label it as simple, instinctive anxiety brought about from the unfavorable situation she’s found herself in; the thing in just front of her ─ she very well can’t see it being any sort of human, certainly, and animalistic creatures were always far more unpredictable and dangerous to toy around with. She hasn’t found herself in a position close enough to observe any particular properties that could be of some enlightening assistance, and the risk of doing so now was far out of the realm of chances that she was willing to take, even if the thing seemed to be far more occupied with its current meal.
Her muscles are all but locked into place, keeping her still as her eyes remain ahead. Analyzing this situation is difficult, with its suddenness; there’s a lot to take in and even more to sort into potential solutions, and the unfamiliarity of it all is, simply put, fairly stressful. The strain put on her ankle only adds to the sense of frustration bubbling under the surface of her controlled expression, the slightest of shifts made to adjust the accidental weight put onto it.
She freezes when it does, right down to her very breath, even though the thing wasn’t quite looking in at her.
( Keep Reading )
The thing is… Hyuna could probably take off running back down the hall from whence she came. Her strongest instincts tell her to ease off the wall and leave the creature far behind her; she’d much rather trade that monstrosity for a sharp toothed but human grin -- humans are predictable enough, at least.
...But that would leave Yongsun here alone, wouldn’t it?
Caution, it seems, continues to keep her from action.
Hyuna’s flickering gaze is drawn by the simple gesture of Yongsun’s hand. Beckoned, Hyuna leans forward on her hands, crouched position just as coiled and ready to move at a split second’s notice. There’s not a question of what Yongsun’s signaling -- Hyuna focuses on the information, only glancing back at the creature once she’s stared at Yongsun for a second longer, nodding in understanding.
Between what she’s just seen and the new information -- Blind, she understands. Fast, perhaps faster than she is… likely far faster than she is. Definitely responsible for all the carnage around. Sensitive to sound -- now that’s even more obvious with how quickly it reacts to the faint rattling sound.
Rapidly her mind goes into overdrive, realizing she only has a moment to make a decision. Hyuna is completely aware of the situation she’s landed in; she could leave Yongsun here and make her escape, but to do so would be to leave her to a certain death. She knows the other is entirely human and with how the beast is sniffing about, she’s only got a few seconds before she’s snatched up.
She looks at the creature and back at Yongsun, holding her gaze there for a second with a certain determination.
The decision is easy.
Hands press against the floor like a racer’s, pushing her forward.
Markings light up white hot as she bounds forward, faint crackling noises cascading into a roar as her electrified fist makes contact with the creature’s towering form.
It staggers only the slightest, blow hitting its shoulder instead of the jaw Hyuna aimed for, head whipped out of the way far more quickly than she anticipated. It snarls angrily as Hyuna’s ears ring, its mouth opening to reveal snarled teeth speckled with its last meal, before a clawed hand reaches forward to smack at her.
The fingers (if that’s what they can be called) make contact with her stomach despite how she dodges back; she’s only just barely aware now that she’s got to keep it from going the opposite hall (and wouldn’t dare spare half a second to glance to see if Yongsun’s managed to get away already) but it seems, at least, that she’s got its attention as she stumbles back.
The creature pauses for a moment to lift its paw to his mouth, sniffing the newly christened tips -- and a rotten looking tongue takes in her blood and seems to enjoy it, if it can taste her beyond all the gore already crusted over itself.
Her tattoos crackle again but this time she does not launch herself forward in attack -- she turns tail and runs, runs like she should have done from the beginning.
The creature is not far behind, her scent in its grasp.
first of all, welcome new kids!! i hope you all have a great time here ^_^
under the cut is information on hyuna’s mutation revamp and plotting information for people i have been plotting with and those of you i have not yet discussed with!! (cause changsub and hyuna really need more threads ah aa)
MUTATION REVAMP:
as you all may have seen, hyuna has had a change in her mutation!
all pages have been updated to reflect this, and plot pages will be further updated very soon ~
in relation to previous plotting, the mutation change does not affect much at all, but might clear up some things about the way her electricity generation worked in the first place! (i’ve been going on about changing it forever lmao) this is truthfully closer to what i had in mind when i originally applied with her ;w;
history is not changed much at all either, though i suggest reading over the new and modified applications when you get a chance!!
(if you are having trouble finding navigation on hyuna’s page or changsub’s page, both have easy pop out navigations, and mobile/quick navigations are both at /navi pages. [hyuna] [changsub])
PLOTTING:
i am still trotting through the rest of my replies, because frankly this winter break has been killer and i have been absolutely swamped with moving apartments (both for myself and someone else entirely! and of course, family things) -- but i would really like to start some new plots for both changsub and hyuna.
IF WE’VE ALREADY STARTED PLOTTING: please message me if you are online or feel free to like this and we can continue! i will come talk to you on my own once i have caught up on my current threads regardless.
IF YOU WANNA PLOT AND WE’VE NOT: feel free to also like this post or hit me up! i will read over your kids and get to you asap 💖 ( i have plot pages up on both changsub [here] and hyuna [here] !! )
Jongkook is a little miffed that out of all the available officers, he just had to be the one to be assigned with the task of watching over Hyuna, dumped with the reason that she’s special just like him. Was that a really good reason to try to appease him? Obviously not, but Jongkook isn’t one to brood over trivial things like that, and promptly accepted whatever duty was given to him soon enough.
The life of a police detective isn’t as always exciting as glamourised on the tv — it’s instead often dull, tedious and a lot of extra work. If you manage to capture the criminal, you’re only doing your job. If you let the culprit get off scot-free, you’re a lousy scumbag of a human. No stress at all. No stress being a detective at all.
Arms crossed as he sits silently on the driver seat, Jongkook keeps his eyes focused on the building gate just across the lane through the tinted window screen. His hand reaches out to grab the cup of tea from the holder, only to realise it’s empty and somewhat awkwardly retracts back. His eyes remain glued on the situation outside despite Hyuna’s inquiry.
“Why? Did you expect us to be chasing the criminal through the street or something? If so you watch too much shows.” He wouldn’t blame her for being so restless and complaining about it being boring. Because it is boring — even to him. A static noise buzzes through the air and he picks up the handheld transceiver as a voice cracks through.
“Detective Kim, radio check. Over.”
“I read you loud and clear. Over.” He replies back into the radio device, putting it back in place before turning to look at the young lady beside him on the passenger seat. He exhales loudly through his mouth.
“Regret choosing the option to follow me, didn’t ya?”
“Every time I see a cop, they’re chasin’ somebody,” she says protestingly, a little more loudly and childishly than intended. “What do shows have to do with it…?” she adds more quietly on a confused note. (She’s definitely pouting a little bit. She really did hope she was going to get to chase someone, in all actuality.)
She’s paying attention to the location as Jongkook is (she thinks), but it really seems like the pattern for the last couple of hours is going to continue despite how much her gut tells her that something’s bound to go down when she’s paired up with a cop and a mutant cop too, at that.
“Did that mean anything or was that also nothing?” she says, and glances at the radio. Well, more like glares at the poor piece of equipment and thinks about smacking it with a good volt or two.
Hyuna’s disgruntled sigh is more than enough of an answer, the mutant slumping back in her seat. She turns her head away from Jongkook and mumbles toward the window.
“I could be working on my planter right now,” is her morose reply. “Is it like this often? If it’s like this all the time, how do you not go crazy, with all this nothing?” She slumps forward and leans on her arm against the dash, and one of her feet bounces offbeat. (She’s probably being distracting, but she can’t really help it for things like this she has only the smallest reserve of patience for.)
“You’re like me, aren’t you? It’s a waste of your abilities waiting on things to just… happen, isn’t it?”
Habits die hard, but they may never be laid to rest if there were no attempts being made to end them in the first place. Hongbin has no intention of curbing the disorganized routine of sneaking up on Kyungil, efforts made even easier now that they, by some strange and brow-raising coincidence, resided in the same facility ─ he’s addicted in that way, nearly incapable of dragging himself away from the source, and as far as he’s concerned, it’s not a problem. Kyungil doesn’t ward him away, welcoming him just as easily as he had the first time they’d started it all, and without fail, Hongbin finds himself drawn to the elder male late at night without so much as a hint of an announcement.
It’s more fun that way, he thinks; some sort of thrill to gain from pouncing from the shadows, even when the target in question was all too happy to oblige.
The sun’s gone down, and the thought snakes into the back of his mind, some sort of spark of interest that comes up after he’d just settled back against his bed. It’s quiet, temptation rising in place of boredom, and just as he would any other night his coax his legs into motion, he makes his way to a very particular room, utilizing very particular abilities to bypass the locks that keep him from what he wants. It’s always so simple, like a practice so easy that he knows the steps like the back of his hand.
Naturally there’s a certain degree of shock to be had when this night proved something different ─ if by ‘different’ his thoughts had meant ‘painful and entirely unexpected’.
It takes a few flashes of moments for him to process what exactly just happened, and even more would be necessary to figure out where he went wrong to wind up like this. It’s already a hassle to catch his breath, coughing a bit as he stumbles a few steps back ─ was it skill or luck that that hit had made its mark right when he’d been in the middle of an inhale? rather, why did it feel like the one time he had an unfortunate experience of being mildly electrocute by messing around with a computer during a thunderstorm? ─ but information comes in the form of a voice that most certainly was not Kyungil.
He realizes where he messed up, but he still doesn’t quite know how.
“Mistake,” he wheezes, a hand on his stomach squirming slightly within the angry woman’s grip. It doesn’t say a thing to explain who he is and there’s little hope in her understanding what it was that he was referencing, but it was a start. “Not you ─ lookin’ for hyung.”
Hyuna stares the intruder down, eye twitching but otherwise, her expression is blank. Her stance is something else entirely, clearly prepared to fight him from the way her limbs minutely twitch with the energy coiled behind them (or possibly finish him off, as the case may very well be) should he present more of a threat. (What constitutes a threat here is unclear even to Hyuna, but it’s fairly clear she’s ready to rough him up regardless of whatever excuse he might possibly have for entering her room.)
“Mistake?” she repeats incredulously, and her grip tightens on his shirt before shoving him forward, instead gesturing wildly with her hands. “Lookin'? Since when was barging into someone’s dorm room in the dead of the night looking?”
She’s met a few of Kyungil’s acquaintances -- her roommate is very amiable (even she is aware of this fact) but she doesn’t recognize this particular guy at all. Much less, who breaks into their acquaintances’ rooms at night to see them? (Even if she weren’t entirely caught off guard by the thief entering her room by mistake, Hyuna is hardly the type to realize the reality of the situation: she truly has no clue of why, painfully innocent in that way.) It’s natural then that, despite the familiarity in his words, she fairly quickly rules out the possibility that this intruder’s intentions are anything but harmful.
She isn’t conscious either of how protective she is of her roommate already either, but it’s evident in how she still bristles aggressively, ready to place herself between Kyungil and this intruder. She quite literally stands between aforementioned intruder and the door, her expression breaking with a curl of her lips then that’s not too dissimilar from the snarl of a guard dog. She’s at least reasonable enough to let him catch his breath, before she demands a more thorough explanation, her stance loosening only slightly but nonetheless still threatening.
“Did you need something from Kyungil? At this hour? Or were you were planning on doing something to him?” The questions are rapid and accusatory in tone. “You better talk ‘n explain quick if this was a mistake, ‘cause I’m not afraid to let you feel that again.”
Hyuna really should have stayed at the medical ward a little longer. She’s been back in the dorm for a few days now -- a little over a week, really, with only the cats for company. Her wounds were superficial enough; no broken bones or terribly sprained joints to keep her off her feet, only bruised and torn skin really -- certainly not as bad as the other injured filling the ward.
The damage Hyuna’s sustained from that night is far more internal; she’s far more mentally shattered than she lets on.
She returns home with instructions on how to care for her shoulder, how to bind it and apply the antibiotic cream they send with her. The shoulder gets treated when she remembers it, but not out of anything more than obedience in following the ward’s instructions and the fact the uncovered wound is a highly visible reminder of everything that happened that night. (She doesn’t really want to feel better either -- or maybe it’s that she’s not ready to feel physically better; another part of her does want to remind herself how badly she’s failed.)
Hyuna’s only left once to get something to eat, but she turned around and retreated to the safety of her room before she got much further than the end of the hall, blankly staring at the elevator buttons. (She’ll figure something else out beyond living on what her roommate has been leaving out for her eventually, she thinks. She’s living in both dread and anticipation of actually seeing him, but the only sign of Kyungil is the food.)
Staying cooped up in the room with her own thoughts and cats that don’t stay too close for long thanks to the static occasionally emanating from her skin (their fur unfortunately a little sticky no matter how she tries to draw the electricity back into herself) makes for an especially jittery Hyuna -- enough that her second venture into the hall pushes her down the stairs instead, two at a time, headed in the direction of the garden on the grounds. Some air, maybe, actually physically rooting herself in the earth, the smell of overturned weeds and brushed over stems; she hopes something out there might ground her, help her settle the tumultuous things occupying her mind so she can push past this like she’s pushed past every other trouble in her life.
The halls are silent enough (she hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, nor that it was nearly dark out already) but she’s entirely on edge, wary of the sound of anyone approaching and hyperaware of how little she actually can hear. She could have sworn she sensed footsteps behind her as she very nearly ran from the hall, but she doesn’t entirely remember the whole journey there. (That’s not so unusual either; there seems to be a lot of gaps in her memory since Halloween, periods of time in which she just… doesn’t remember anything.) Her aura’s already flaring up by the time she gets to the courtyard, and the paranoid feeling that had been creeping up on her is just another reason the hair on her neck is on edge.
It’s ironic that despite her hypervigilance she’s not all there and entirely writes off the other’s presence -- whom she’s suddenly knocking shoulders with as she turns around the corner. Instinctively, she falls back into a stiff defensive pose, nearly hissing in surprise and pain as her mind tries to register the new threat in front of her, barking out a warning.
haha holy f*ck there’s so many new members i’m sorry guys end of semester projects and finals were far more time and brain consuming than i could have anticipated
hello!! to all of you i have not had a chance to greeeeet
i’m grey, and i’m the mun for changsub too ^^
i would love to plot with anyone soon, but i am currently neck deep in months old replies at this point SO i’m going to be prioritizing those before getting to messages, but i will try to get to those soon-ish? when i have a chance. for you new kiddos, i have plot pages up for both my kids -- if any of those leap out at you for your own muses, feel free to hit me up regardless (if you bring me ideas and/or have read over my muses i will literally love u forever) but *sobs* i think i have like 15+ replies and starters to write (i haven’t counted exactly, but i know... there are a lot as it is literally all but one of my threads i owe...)
a note that if i reply to something truly ancient and you don’t have muse for it or have ideas for something else instead, do let me know if you want to drop it or change things up :000
**edit: also i’ve been trying to stay on top of following people regardless but pls let me know if i’ve somehow missed following your muse on hyuna or sub
both changsub and hyuna are going to be on hiatus until the 20th because of finals and end term projects and all that jazz.
however, i’m going to try to be on occasionally for messaging? i might be able to get to the starters i owe over the weekends but school’s gotta come first, unfortunately
but woo!! i should be able to be much more active in general once i come off hiatus ^^
heeey sorry y’all i got swamped the end of last week/this weekend with homework. it is blessedly break for a bit and i should be getting to plotting things today/tomorrow as i can, and i will do my best to be online for messages and stuff this week!! (though i am going to be dying again the next two weeks over finals rip me)
as for post event... hyuna is an absolute mess.
- she’s gone from very outgoing and confident if not foolhardy to much more withdrawn and defensive; all of the illusions she’s built up for herself about her abilities and purpose are pretty much wrecked.
- her ability’s currently a little extra haywire in part because she doesn’t see much purpose in keeping it contained + still rather shaken by losing it and regaining it
- she’s finally starting to realize she has no idea what she’s doing with her life
- hyuna’s pretty much going to be alone in her room with the cats and very wary on exploring outside (especially after a post-event encounter with junmyeon that leaves them both worse for wear)
- as far as injuries go, her shoulder’s fucked up and she has a bunch of various smaller injuries but most of the damage is really related to mental trauma
- someone get her bath salts ?? she needs them
Initially, Yeji hadn’t taken well to fighting with mutants. Sure, a lot of them fought just like normal people, but a lot of them were – cheating, it felt like. Having special powers that confounded Yeji’s intuition seemed like some violation of the rules of combat – but really, what rules are there in true throat-ripping, life-or-death fights?
Yeji just had to learn to analyze and adapt to mutants the same as humans. After all, it could easily come a day that she was pursuing a mutant of some sort, latent or practiced, powers she knew something about or didn’t. So she’s changed since the entered the foundation – not that that should come as a surprise to her or anyone else – and she’s started piecing together the different wild and crazy ways that mutants work.
Maybe it all has to do with the few times she saw her dad use his powers, or something?
Anyway, there’s always something to learn fighting mutants, and this woman’s got a practiced sort of charm to her combative skills as well – it doesn’t at all hurt that she’s easy as hell on the eyes, and Yeji’s got some kind of weird masochistic death-wish when it comes to fighting people who’re hot and can kick her ass. Maybe she’s into that, she doesn’t really care to dwell on it. Better to focus on the golden opportunity that is running into this charming lady on the training grounds, yeah?
“Yah – unnie,” Yeji approaches with curiosity in her eyes, sidling up beside the elder woman as she adjusts the cloth wrapped around one of her hands. (Wow, she’s a lot taller than Yeji – nice.) “Your form’s really good – you haven’t been here long, though?” the huntress wonders, tilting her head to let her hair wildly flip to the side. “’Cause I mean, I don’t know you – which I think I should fix, and I also think we should totally spar, if you wanna.”
She flicks her head back upright and finishes pulling the wrappings on her knuckles taut – a little fangy grin crosses Yeji’s lips and her eye-shutters whirl to open a little wider. “Yeji,” she offers along with an outstretched hand; “How about whoever wins buys drinks later?” She’s smooth – if only because she has literally no fear in her body, but whatever.
Her focus is entirely on stretching when she’s approached -- but Hyuna is immediately pleased it’s this particular fighter when her eyes draw up to see exactly who has strided up to her. She’d observed the other woman as well; she appears to be human as far as Hyuna can tell, but the mutant would easily believe there’s more secrets packed into her smaller build from the teaser of her skills she’d seen at a distance. Hyuna senses some wild, unpredictable streak to her movements, her fighting forms a little different from what she’s used to, but sleek, practiced, and rather elegantly rough -- her interest is piqued.
Hyuna’s gaze moves from the confident curl of the other woman’s mouth (she looks like she might bite, like her mouth’s ready to make the same kind of fighting promises her confident stance does) to meet her eyes and mirrors the other’s head tilt as she rolls her neck the slightest. She doesn’t realize the slight smile that curls her own lips as she notes there’s something sharp about her that immediately draws her in -- she’s got that natural look too, a certain kind of visage that Hyuna always finds herself gravitating to like she always has, that kind of girl that looks her best while she’s got her skin streaked with dirt or grease or someone else’s blood.
“I can always use the practice,” she replies, rolling her neck back. Her smile gets a little bigger -- she takes it as a sign the other has a good eye to approach her like this first. “Maybe you can give me more of a challenge?”
She’d wrestled with some of the kids here, but most of them are subpar, no real training -- at the very least not such an enticing opportunity. Yeji’s confidence is appealing; it alone is enough to make Hyuna instantly amenable to the suggestion.
“Hyuna,” she offers her own name and hand, grip confident and firm. She pulls back only to pop the hair tie off her wrist, running her hands through her hair to pull it up tightly in a practiced way.
It takes her a moment to process the suggested bet, as it were, mind already moving first to match the younger’s style. She’s immensely curious to see if Yeji’s as good as her stance says she is -- she rolls her shoulders back.
“Sounds good to me… If you’re as good as you look, I might need it later,” she drawls. Her grin then is bright. “We’ll see though, won’t we?”
Hyuna settles into a defensive stance, gaze provoking.
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