formerly kim jonghyun spectre. 23. isabelline veteran of five years. "you gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. you are able to say to yourself, 'i have lived through this horror. i can take the next thing that comes along.' you must do the thing you think you cannot do."
“hey, spectre, you want to… uh, partner up as we make our way to the first floor? hm?” she walked up to him, her eyes looking up the flight of stairs with annoyance. “it’ll be easier for the first part of this tournament, don’t you think?” she asked, raising a brow. “well then, come on!” gemini doesn’t wait too long before walking on ahead, giving him no time to say no.
spectre long-since got used to the smell. at first it was rank, but after a few days in the pit, served the collective’s thoughtful dishes of water and prison food, suitable for the way they treated him upon his arrival. he adjusted, as he usually did, apparently adapting, even to survive in a pit. his eyes grew used to the lack of light to some extent, too, though he could still only see shadows. he learned quickly that his eyes wouldn’t serve him well, and relied mostly on his hearing, not eager to touch anything in a place that smelled so poor, and he also learned that there wasn’t much to do other than wait. in the meantime, he focused on relaxing, adopting a mostly meditative stance, though he stayed alert, just in case some recollection of this would serve him well for the mission coming soon, inevitably.
early on, he wondered if this was the mission: survival in these dingy, cramped quarters, but he figured watching them slowly wither away wouldn’t provide the usual entertainment for the collective. when routine finally changed, and he received clothing and his cylinder, he knew to stay on guard, his relaxed waiting changing to with bated breath as he anticipated his challenge. he got changed, and he prepared himself, and when the announcement of this starting the nightbound tournament came, it didn’t really surprise him. once, he was determined to do well and win this tournament, and return to his normal life.
now, he didn’t feel as much of the urgency. after all, gambit was here, and before blcktmpl, gambit was basically his entire life. what did he have, if he could escape from the game? his parents wouldn’t remember him. what would he do? he didn’t know, but he supposed consideration of that could come later. all he knew: he didn’t want to die today, and for that reason, he would not delay.
he walked, down the hallway, until the stairs came into view, and began the trek up-- a seemingly long and arduous task. suddenly, he was thankful for all the free time he poured into training, preparing his body for something like this. what he wasn’t prepared for, however, was for gemini to approach him during their trek up the stairs. partner up, she said. he looked at her, unable to hide his skepticism; last they were together, they butt heads, each of them with a need for control and very different ideas on how to achieve it. he preferred to avoid her ever since, as he did with most of vermilion, however, having someone to watch his back in a place like this could come in handy.
that is, if she actually planned to watch his back. perhaps she hoped to earn his trust only to dispatch him herself after he outlived his usefulness to her. his guard remained up, but he shrugged in begrudging acknowledgement-- a certain agreement, and as she charged forward, he expected she wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway. time was of the essence, so he couldn’t blame her for her lack of waiting.
there was a small stone pathway that led to a larger patio where she was able to practice yoga, which is where she had let him now, gesturing to a mat already laid out for him before unrolling her own mat and setting it down gently and neatly. the day was kind, not too bright yet not too dim, cool air with a warm breeze. it was perfect for a session of yoga, which she waited for him to be ready for before beginning, hoping he understood that he should follow her movements.
@blckspectre
it’s strange, in a place like the seoul hive, to seemingly share a wavelength with someone, but when it comes to him and paradox, spectre doesn’t think it’s much of an exaggeration. they both find solace in silence, never urging each other to speak at all, let alone more like so many of the other candidates do. for them, words aren’t necessary, and yet understanding between them lingers regardless, a relationship forged from overlapping time in the training center-- the dojo, to be specific.
now, he’s honored to be deemed trustworthy enough to become a visitor of paradox’s garden. what greets him is a vision of soft purple-blues framed with greenery, all growing freely, a little slice of nature, so peaceful he could nearly forget they’re in the middle of the city, partaking in something so violent. it’s a respite, however brief-- an escape from the game they were captured for, and spectre can understand perfectly why she tends to such a thing. he’s struck with a bit of envy, wishing he had his own. then again, if paradox has done this with an apartment space not unlike his own, maybe he can have his own version? he resigns himself to start small, with a reasonable garden first, if anything.
he wants to spend more time looking around, but figures there will be chances for that later, and follows paradox to the patio, not wanting to be rude. he feels lucky enough he was even invited. he stands, taking in the mats for a moment before he understands what she wants him to do, and he takes a seat, legs crossed. spectre was already fond of meditating, and he considered it in a similar veign to yoga, though he didn’t take part in the latter too frequently. it would probably be a good practice to get into, so he didn’t mind it now, especially in an environment like this. he closed his eyes and took in a deep inhale, letting the faint scent of the garden wash over him, fully immersing himself in the feeling, making himself present in the moment.
❝ how can you be between the death and the living? ❞ she asks carefully after a moment of silence. it is a saying which baffles her, there are people who flicker in between but von had always imagined them transluscent in consciousness. ❝ ….what happened? ❞
she is an inquisitive one; spectre’s eyes sparkle with amusement, though he wonders if it will get her in trouble in an environment like this-- or maybe she isn’t always so, and just entertains him with her questions because there’s something approachable about him. it would be strange. though spectre is more wholesome than many of the candidates, he rarely shows it, at least where more than one person can see. usually his quiet and cold exterior serves as intimidation enough, but clearly, it isn’t the case for the girl, and her boldness.
there’s something humane about curiosity. he doesn’t remember seeing her around for long, so she must be new, to still have concern enough for others to ask her questions instead of throwing her words like the knives some of the candidates use as their weapons. he wonders if it’ll change, or this is a facet of herself that she won’t let the game take from her. (sometimes they don’t have a choice.)
spectre’s question: does he answer the new question posed to him? he’s already shared more than he often does, and this one requires more transparency than he cares for, but as he stuffs more noodles into his mouth, he figures-- if she cares enough to ask, who is he to refuse her? still, he lets silence fill the air for a substantial moment before he answers, “my brother had to kill me during his initiation,” that’s probably enough, but in a rare juncture, he offers her more, words still chosen carefully, as always. “before that, i always lived...like a shadow. i still do.”
“fuck. watch your - oh.” the annoyed look on her face disappears, replaced by a smile now when somehow, she recognises him. another candidate whose name she never remembers, mainly because the only time she ever sees him is when she’s on the verge of being blackout drunk.
“it’s you again.”
in another life, before spectre existed, named someone else, even he thought alcohol was an acquired taste. in high school, he tiptoed around those who developed an early relationship with it, traveling in different circles and just meeting them at the fringes, otherwise keeping his distance. now, after years of blood on his hands, his life flashing before his eyes a near common occurrence, spectre has acquired the taste.
at least from time to time. he ultimately isn’t fond of deafening his senses or handicapping himself, so he moderates, and the alcohol tolerance he quickly built up (likely thanks to some side effect of the serum that runs through his veins, enhancing his nature) ensures he rarely grows more than just a little fuzzy around the edges. he mostly frequents clubs and bars (if you can even use the word frequent) to observe, anyway-- not for any of the activity himself. he finds solace in how easy it is to blend into the background in places like this, everything too loud, people too absorbed in their own cares, to notice him. it was what he liked about working as a bartender, too-- how easy it was to just listen.
it’s not like spectre follows buttercup around when she heads out to bars or clubs; he would claim he’d never do that, which might be false, but he’d never do that as far as vermilion is concerned. they just happen to have the same taste in establishments that serve alcohol, and buttercup, as boisterous as she is, is hard not to notice. she’s hard not to take pity on, too, and spectre almost envies the effect alcohol has on her.
it’s a pattern now: run into buttercup out in about in some dingy establishment; make sure she makes it back to the condominium safely, though maybe when it comes to the candidates, the outside world proves no danger to them. still, it seems like the right thing to do.
when he sees her get up across the bar, spectre does too, offering the bartender a close-tipped smile of gratitude and a nice tip as he takes his leave. he beats her to the door and lingers outside the building, leaning against the wall for a moment, and there buttercup is, making his entrance easy by running right into him.
he mirrors her smile, though his own is more subdued (always.) he nods in acknowledgement, and stands, hands in the pocket of his black sweatshirt. “going home?” he asks, voice its usual low timbre.
spectre inhabits the edge. he lurks in a state of in betweens, balancing on the line of good and evil, dark and light, shadow and spotlight, where many others pick a side. he’s been doing so ever since kim jonghyun died, and he chose his state between life and death-- known and unknown. he has a certain infamy about him now for it. he is spectre, the ghost, the shadow, the one that’s hard to pin down, (and yet to some, he isn’t as mysterious and hard to find as he’d like to be.)
and then there are the ones that don’t know, like the girl that sits next to him at his table at the shack, over his bowl of noodles, eyes full of curiosity. (he doesn’t even come here often. it ruins his image, he thinks. enigmas don’t suit eating at the candidates’ local canteen; usually he just cooks for himself, but sometimes...)
he’s noticed her around. he thinks her name starts with a v-- short-- von, is it? maybe he’ll ask her, if she gives him the chance. he doesn’t know her, but from what he’s seen, he thinks she toes many of her own lines. she lurks on the sidelines too, watching and listening instead of speaking, like so many of them do, and this, he can respect.
maybe it’s why, when she asks him why he goes by spectre, he swallows his food and thinks over his answer, instead of just looking at her with blank eyes and deciding not to entertain it. (at least she knows his name; he makes a mental note of that, too.)
“i’ve been in between dead and alive for a long time now,” is what he settles on, voice quiet, as always. “even before.”
when spectre receives the invitation to test the new simulation, he doesn’t think he can just say no. the collective has a plan, of course, and he doesn’t want to risk the repercussions of denying this sacred opportunity. besides, with the nightbound tournament coming up, he could use all of the training he can get, especially when it comes to something like this that could give him an unforeseen edge. he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious what this was all about, so he sees it through.
the looks on the faces of the candidates he passes in the hallway open up a familiar pit in his stomach. the pity, he can handle-- it’s the dead eyes that are really haunting, but he presses on, even as he sees the one that went into the simulation before him carried out on a stretcher. he isn’t afraid. (this is what he tells himself. no, there’s no time for fear anymore. he’s done this too long for any of it to be a surprise.)
he does everything they ask, and melts fully into the simulation quickly, and he’s impressed by the realism. he turns on his heel, taking in the scene around him, and it’s all he gets a chance to do before the ai communicates with him. assurance that he’ll feel the pain-- ah yes, how reassuring. it’s nice to know his brain is effectively connected to the machine, too, so if something goes wrong he could have a stroke. it’s fine.
not only is the mission a mind exercise, but a team exercise: two terrible birds with one stone of a simulation. spectre lets out a heavy sigh. he does as he’s told though, waiting for his teammates to join the simulation, and snorts at the simulation’s twisted sense of humor. he’s not at all confident that he won’t die within this program, but when has he ever been assured of survival in the blcktmpl?
finally, they all join the simulation, and he tries to ignore the invasive feeling, like a worm in his mind-- tries not to wonder what depth of his thoughts the collective can decipher from this alone, and if truly nothing is off-limits anymore. he ignores the further attempts at humor, too, and hopes the ai will leave them to the mission soon.
he gets his way soon, and the surroundings shift, and suddenly he’s underwater without even taking a proper breath. he sees the forms of his teammates around him, and follows the lead of the one closest to the surface, only to hear a distant gunshot ring out and spot fresh blood in the water. he has half the mind to look around for sharks, but doesn’t, instead, propelling himself away from the gunshot. he looks back and sees their shot teammate sinking rapidly, so he goes back, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him along.
he swims until he can’t hold his breath anymore, then takes the risk at surfacing. he looks around quickly, anticipates dodging a bullet within the water, but the coast is clear, and there’s also an expanse of shore nearby. spectre takes the initiative and pulls himself onto it, and gradually, the rest of the team follows.
he squeezes the water out of the bottom of his t-shirt as they gather on shore and catch their breath. the uninjured male, who introduces himself as sinbad, suggests they all introduce themselves with their name and weapon, so they do. the one with the gunshot wound is pink, and then there are two girls: eris, with twin warhammers, and cherry, with dual muskets. sinbad fights with a scimtar.
“nice to meet you all,” cherry chirps, and spectre would bet money that she’s cerulean. his eyes settle on pink then-- the blood on his hands, clutched near his collarbone, and his eyes stay wide, always full of panic. in the background, sinbad and eris argue over what their plan should be, eris of the mind that they should just charge in and fight everyone, and sinbad more inclined to stealth. spectre agrees more with sinbad, but he stays quiet, and takes a seat next to pink instead.
“let me see,” and it’s more of a quiet demand than a request, and pink drops his hands from the wound with a labored breath, escaping as more like a gurgle. spectre purses his lips; that’s not a good sign.
“i regret doing this anyway,” pink declares, wincing in pain, and spectre’s cylinder shifts into its shuriken form.
“wait!” cherry calls. “no! don’t!” it gains the attention of eris and sinbad, who for once fall silent.
“i can’t do anything like this,” pink replies, not even managing to shake his head in protest.
“it’s just a simulation,” spectre assures them all, and he brandishes his weapon, then uses the edge of the star to slit pink’s throat. the blood gets on spectre’s hands from the close contact, but the light fades from the boy’s eyes almost instantly.
“i’ll take care of this,” he says, too, and heaves the body up, carrying it toward the water and setting it afloat there.
they relocate, taking shelter in an alleyway behind an old, abandoned building, and there, eris and sinbad resume their squabble in full. spectre still stays quiet, waiting, observing their surroundings, thinking of solutions for this problem himself, keeping track of the time as it ticks down, and cherry speaks up every now and again to try and mediate, but finds little success.
“what if we go to the rendezvous point first, so we know where we’re going?” spectre suggests, and everyone turns to look at him-- the benefits of rarely speaking. when you do, everyone’s sure to listen. eventually, they all agree.
the team locates an old car parked closeby, and sinbad takes the opportunity to show off his skills in hotwiring cars while the others standby, on guard. spectre thinks he overhears eris mutter something about a car being noisy and revealing their presence if sinbad wants to keep their movements on the downlow, and she has a point, but spectre also sees the benefit in a vehicle to cut down on their travel time.
the rendezvous point is within walking distance, but the car covers it faster, and serves as some much needed protection from the potential guards they’ll run into during the mission. they all pile into the car once sinbad successfully gets it up and running, and he drives them to the extraction point. it only takes a couple minutes for them to arrive at the destination, and they hop out, getting a proper look around.
spectre peers back at the way he came, working out the directions in his head so he can retrace his steps if need be. he thinks he knows how to get from the base to here successfully, and that’s an important detail, in case something happens to sinbad and he can’t drive them where they need to go.
naturally, the argument over the plan starts up again, but this time, spectre speaks before they really have a chance to go at it again. “we can use the car as part of the plan,” he suggests, and then he launches into his explanation: cherry and sinbad staying in the car, while he and eris travel on foot, dispatching the guards at the gate. cherry and sinbad drive in, causing chaos within the camp, while spectre and eris pick off more guards on the outskirts of the formation, quietly making their way through the warehouses to locate the blood diamonds. it’ll be there job to steal them, then meet back up with sinbad and cherry in the car, piling in, and driving to their destination afterwards.
it combines a bit of what both eris and sinbad wanted, and after spectre presents his idea, they all agree that it just might work.
he shifts into godmode for just a moment, to drive his katana through the chest of one of the guards on duty after jumping out of the bushes at him. simultaneously, eris drives one of her hammers right into the skull of the other guard. that’s the opening the rest of their team requires: the car they procured charges forward, through the makeshift gate, immediately causing alarms to blare and more guards to file out of the buildings to deal with the car. spectre hears the sound of men being run over and cherry’s muskets firing through the window.
he and eris take to the outskirts of the camp, keeping to the trees, even with the distraction their teammates caused. he looks back at eris, and sees the annoyance on her face, knowing she’d much rather be dealing with the fighting on the frontlines right now, but he’s thankful for her company and help. if he was anyone else, he might express it, but he doesn’t, instead, slinking through the shadows to the closest building.
he keeps his back pressed against the side of it, eyes resting on the ensuing chaos closer to the middle of camp-- the cacophony of gunshots and rolling tires, and he makes a run for it when he’s sure the guards all have their backs turned. he slips into the building while eris gives the nearest guard another swift blow to the skull.
it doesn’t take long for spectre to realize their target isn’t in this building, so he slips out just as quickly as he entered, only giving eris a shake of his head as indication. they disappear back into the trees, back to the outskirts of camp, making their way to the next building. “it’s probably near the center and the back of camp, well guarded,” spectre guesses, and eris nods, not disagreeing. instead of wasting time checking every building, they head that way, intending to check the most likely spots for the diamonds, branching out only if they fail to locate them.
> HEY YOU TWO, HURRY UP
sinbad’s voice breaches his thoughts, and he sends back a single nod and got it.
the building housing the diamonds becomes obvious once they infiltrate the center of the camp, guards still stationed by the access point even as cherry and sinbad still roll through the camp in the car. spectre and eris sneak up on both of them, shifting into god mode to kill them quickly before they can call for backup, and they leave their bodies in a heap outside the doorway in favor of infiltrating the building. sure enough, the crate of diamonds is there, and they pick it up and step outside of the building again.
right on time, sinbad drives past them, then circles back around, bringing the attention of the guards with him. eris takes two down before spectre even gets the door of the car open, and he tosses the diamonds into the backseat before following, jumping in after them. the car doesn’t stop for a moment. eris flings herself through the door and shuts it behind her, and sinbad pounds the gas, peeling out toward the same gate they entered through.
it’s only then that spectre notices cherry, in the front seat, nursing a bullet wound in her arm. she still has a gun poking out the passenger side window, even though the gunfire of the guards is focused on their back now. spectre inches toward the front seats, and takes off his jacket.
“let me help,” he offers, and cherry turns toward him, giving him her arm. he ties the jacket around it, applying sufficient pressure to the wound. it should last her until they get out of the simulation: might help with the pain.
“let me out,” eris demands from the backseat.
“are you crazy?” sinbad replies.
“yes. let me out, and i’ll deal with anyone still following us. we’re just wasting space with all four of us in the car and you know it.”
“whatever. i’m not slowing down.”
eris rolls her eyes, then props one of the doors open. she watches the world outside the car pass, listens to the distant sounds of gunfire still ringing out, then leaps once the coast is clear. spectre closes the door to the car tightly, then looks out the back window at her, drawing her weapons to deal with the straggling soldiers.
they reach the rendezvous point soon after, and eris finds her way back to them, fresh blood on her weapons, before the mission even ends.
hello everyone! i’m carly; chances are we’ve met in another roleplay before at some time or another, as i’ve been in several, but if not, it’s great to meet you! i’m really excited to be here. those of you that have had me on twitter for a while may recall in your distant memory me talking about this muse when blcktmpl was first open. i almost impulse applied for him even though i didn’t have the time, but i controlled myself, thus he never lived. with blcktmpl reopening, however, i saw my opportunity and took it, because i said i would, and i’m equal parts excited and nervous tbh! usually i join things pretty early and not when they’re already established, but i trust u guys to take good care of me and involve me in everything, and i am going to weasel my way into all of your plots, too.
a big reason that i’m nervous is because i’m not 100% sure how to write this muse yet, i took forever on his profile page (and his bio is now up here!) (this is all i have up atm…haha…) so i didn’t write his bio or any of the solos yet even though i wanted to, and i may do that to get a solid handle on him before i delve too far into plotting. that being said, if you want to plot, like this post! i just ask that you give me some time to get settled first, i’m going to give myself a week to write the stuff i need to as my deadline, and then i’ll send messages out after that for sure. feel free to beat me to it if you want, though! i welcome any and all ideas so if u get anything, don’t be afraid to mention it to me! aside from that, i’m also @taekaimoon on twitter. we can plot there, or you can just follow me and we can be friends, both are welcome ;w; i have a discord too, but dm me if you want that, it’s kind of my peaceful space.
enOUGH about me!! onto what you’re really here for: mr spectre. he’s a lil bit sugar, spice, everything nice and chemical x, and a lil bit genji from overwatch, older brother presumably killing him and all (thanks @blckgambit). he lived his life pre-blcktmpl in his older brother’s shadow, always quiet and blending into the background, and he chose the name spectre because of that, mainly, but it got a double meaning after gambit was forced to “kill him” for his initiation following their simultaneous kidnappings, and then the collective saved spectre for a fun plot twist. he’s a veteran of five years now, his story and character is pretty well known in blcktmpl, but he prefers to live as mysteriously as possible, living up to his name. he’s very shadow-y, very ghost-like, rarely speaks, tends to appear and disappear a lot. he might be hard to plot with but i promise i will try my darndest, ok!! more facts about him under the cut!
hello everyone! i’m carly; chances are we’ve met in another roleplay before at some time or another, as i’ve been in several, but if not, it’s great to meet you! i’m really excited to be here. those of you that have had me on twitter for a while may recall in your distant memory me talking about this muse when blcktmpl was first open. i almost impulse applied for him even though i didn’t have the time, but i controlled myself, thus he never lived. with blcktmpl reopening, however, i saw my opportunity and took it, because i said i would, and i’m equal parts excited and nervous tbh! usually i join things pretty early and not when they’re already established, but i trust u guys to take good care of me and involve me in everything, and i am going to weasel my way into all of your plots, too.
a big reason that i’m nervous is because i’m not 100% sure how to write this muse yet, i took forever on his profile page (and his bio is now up here!) (this is all i have up atm...haha...) so i didn’t write his bio or any of the solos yet even though i wanted to, and i may do that to get a solid handle on him before i delve too far into plotting. that being said, if you want to plot, like this post! i just ask that you give me some time to get settled first, i’m going to give myself a week to write the stuff i need to as my deadline, and then i’ll send messages out after that for sure. feel free to beat me to it if you want, though! i welcome any and all ideas so if u get anything, don’t be afraid to mention it to me! aside from that, i’m also @taekaimoon on twitter. we can plot there, or you can just follow me and we can be friends, both are welcome ;w; i have a discord too, but dm me if you want that, it’s kind of my peaceful space.
enOUGH about me!! onto what you’re really here for: mr spectre. he’s a lil bit sugar, spice, everything nice and chemical x, and a lil bit genji from overwatch, older brother presumably killing him and all (thanks @blckgambit). he lived his life pre-blcktmpl in his older brother’s shadow, always quiet and blending into the background, and he chose the name spectre because of that, mainly, but it got a double meaning after gambit was forced to “kill him” for his initiation following their simultaneous kidnappings, and then the collective saved spectre for a fun plot twist. he’s a veteran of five years now, his story and character is pretty well known in blcktmpl, but he prefers to live as mysteriously as possible, living up to his name. he’s very shadow-y, very ghost-like, rarely speaks, tends to appear and disappear a lot. he might be hard to plot with but i promise i will try my darndest, ok!! more facts about him under the cut!
one of your (currently) few isabelline candidates
as mentioned before, a veteran of five years, so if you were a(n isabelline) rookie in the past ~3 years, he could’ve helped with your training, or maybe you know an isabelline candidate that he helped with
his elev8 account is some real hipster bullshit. he doesn’t post any pictures of himself, preferring to keep up his air of mystery, and posts pictures of his surroundings, friends, acquaintances, etc, with vaguely eerie, poetic captions. some posts are poetic weirdness or philosophical shit without pictures
he works at an arcade out in the real world, still rarely speaking, lurking in the shadows there too
he used to work as a bartender but that required too much socializing for his taste, even though he enjoyed listening to drunk people pour out their life stories
i still don’t know if his obsession with staying mysterious is genuinely for his own protection or a strategy to keep the collective interested in him, because once they know everything about him he’ll be boring. he’s equal parts genuinely aloof and a little calculating
his entire time (presumably) died during the awakening part of the initiation. he survived because he spent most of the time hiding. he’s not proud of it and he never talks about it (there’s room for plotting here though; maybe a teammate survived without his knowledge, etc)
he really has a good heart, and gets attached more quickly than he wants to admit. he’s so quiet partially to spare others from the same fate
looking after people is in his nature; he spent most of his teenage years taking care of his brother who was ill for years, so he will do the same with others, especially younger than him
he was a successful author before blcktmpl, but as a ghostwriter-- under his brother’s name. they collaborated and jonghyun wrote myungsoo’s memoir about his experience with his illness
knows multiple types of martial arts, and practices daily to keep his mind clear and body in peak condition. catch him in the training area’s dojo and parkour simulation learning to wall climb like the real genji
at first, spectre was thankful to the collective for saving his life and giving him a chance to live his own life for the first time in years, though he quickly learned he was only around for their entertainment, and his fondness for them ran out by the end of his first year as a candidate
his participation in missions was almost constant at first, and then has tapered off to be more spotty. he loves to keep everybody guessing on whether he’ll show up or not,,, but ultimately he participates quite a lot and has performed pretty well over the years
he’s a very calm and level-headed individual, and has this exterior of being unfazed, especially when it comes to accepting higher level missions, but internally He Screams, he just puts on a brave face
![Do I Wanna Know [played in a reverberation room]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ou8hm6w1Dd1vzzp2p_1521578691_cover.jpg)
