monochrome.
tagged @sailorabsolem
@thorned: look what i found? the most precious cutiepie ever.
@thorned: (@sailorabsolem) you should come pick it up, absol ^^~
featuring: @blckth0rn
dated: june 15, 2017
location: section 5
his scream tears the silence of the night apart, resonating between four walls and probably further. but chase isn’t thinking of others. he’s woken up by the sound of his own scream, but doesn’t realize it belongs to him until he feels his body covered in cold sweat, his rapid breathing filling the quietness of his room. he’s gasping for air, unable to recognize where he is. he remembers the bloodcurdling scream of the faceless human he shot. it haunts him still, keeping him awake for most of the night only to terrorize him when he finally falls asleep. it’s been like this for days now; he wakes up sweaty and confused, heart racing so fast he’s scare he might pass out from exhaustion. each and every time, he’s given a glimmer of hope. maybe it was just a dream. maybe he’s in his own bed, with taehyung sound asleep in the next room.
but it’s never the case.
he’s always in this unfamiliar environment, surrounded by a decor he does not recognize. even the scent disgusts him. he’s been ferociously cleaning the place thinking it would help. perhaps it’s all in his head. it’s a while before he moves and heads to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. he looks at his reflection in the mirror. the person staring back isn’t him. it’s not mark tuan, the professional football player without much history. it’s chase, the lost new boy, the one everyone either pities or mocks.
still out of it, it takes him a few seconds to register the gentle knock at his door. he thinks he’s hearing things, as it wouldn’t be the first time after all. but it might be lucky, so he opens, faced with someone he knows to be his neighbor. there isn’t much else he could tell about her. “yes?”
Encrusted with the shiniest of diamonds, the dark veil that was the sky was a breathtaking spectacle. Being at a distance of the city, one could really see the difference that light pollution could make, because she could barely see such starry sky when she was in Seoul (a city that never slept). Usually she would not be at her window enjoying the view, even night owls like herself needed to sleep. It was because of the new neighbor. All the neighbor of her floor’s wing could vouch that they the agonizing screams and shrieks of the newbie kept them awake at night. It was common though. They were not going to blame him for having nightmares (a recurring symptom that anyone with post-traumatic stress disorder had - even the most seasoned candidate was still prone of having them every once in awhile).
Still, something had to be done. Amaranth, the faction linked to ‘passion’, was filled with people who had that passionate and emotional side. It was as if people were incapable of caring openly (some would say that they were emotionally defunct or emotionally closed off); therefore, they had a more peculiar way to show camaraderie (because many were afraid of being even more broken and hurt - and she was speaking of experience). Sometimes, the ones with the brightest smiles or the coldest exterior are the ones the most broken of the bunch. So, she wanted to offer some of the good old-fashioned camaraderie by swinging to his place with the first bottle she put her hands on.
She made her way to her neighbors apartment and knocked on the door loud enough not to disturb the rest of their neighbors. She was glad that he had answered. In the middle of the night, it must had been weird for someone to suddenly swing by without notice.
“You’re having a bad night,” she stated. “Clearly, you need someone to talk to. I’m not talking about a shoulder to cry on, but more just a mean of distraction.” Thorn revealed the bottle of wine in her hand (she wished that she would have found something slightly stronger). “Don’t make me drag you, newbie. Just follow me to the roof.” She said as she walked slowly towards the elevators’ location.
“no, but-” his words get caught in his throat, threatening to slide and twist the insides of his stomach even more. the panic was beginning to bleed from his jumpy hands and shoulders despite the looming feeling of needing to empty his breakfast all over the pavement (when was the last time he had eaten exactly?). “we were here and that’s enough.” there were a thousands of different ways, different directions, they could have ran, but this one lead them down the path of death. though, saint had the inkling that every road would lead them to something dastardly. he heated to have this thinking, but, in this case, it was better the man sitting before them than the two contestants. saint was a very sympathetic person. it tried, but he didn’t let that quality get in the way of his will to live. no matter how many times he thought so before the collective nabbed him, death was not a better alternative. oh how good he had had it back then. if only he had realized it sooner.
he didn’t like any of the options that thorn gave him, looking between her and the man with something akin to devastation. however, as he watched the man gurgle and moan, struggles weakening with every passing moment, saint began giving in. giving up on the possibility of life not for himself, but for the poor soul whose path would end here. what a way to go, hemmoraghing to death on the pavement of some insignificant street. saint hated to admit it, but thorn was right. there was no way they were going to be able to save this man. no matter how hard they tried, it wasn’t a possibility. they also had to get on the move soon. how close were the other mercenaries to surrounding them now that saint had given them the opportunity to do so. “will.. will you do it? i can’t. i will not.” there’s that panic again, breath stuttering before saint can push it all back down.
the tables have turned. he’s about to throw thorn’s own words back at her, that they need to get going and that they can’t possibly help, but then there’s this tugging. the nausea and anxiety he had been feeling earlier had completely shadowed it, but it was definitely now there. it was insistent, making home right in the pit of his stomach. the conclusion he came to was quick. thoughtless. what lead him to think it was unknown, but saint knew exactly what was happening within seconds. he had a gut feeling, one could say (pun intended). “my cylinder.” his words were caught between a gasp and a horrified shiver. his hand reached out, hovering over the man’s quivering stomach, before pulling away suddenly as if he had been burnt. “it’s- it’s in his stomach.” now, he definitely was going to be sick.
You should be worrying about yourself if you do not want to die early. She wished that she could have told him that, but, in his current state, arguing with him or reasoning him was not going to do them any good. To think that he believed that it was there fault was simply mind-boggling. None of them had the power of foresight. None of them could have predicted that this civilian would have left the comfort of his personal domain. The man was already dying, so why was the latter still thinking about what had already happened. They needed to move on from this ordeal (and she needed to go find some bag, because she could not carry all of findings in her pockets indefinitely). Anyways, his frame of mind was wrong. He needed to be recalibrated to understand that life sucks and that he cannot blame himself for petty things like that. Sad that the civilian was dying. It was a truly unfortunate turn of event.
However, it seemed that the other realized that any rescuing attempt was futile. He was still panicking though. Not hiding her frustration, she sighed and walked up to the candidate. She used her free hand to ruffle his hair and, afterwards, to pinch his cheek. “Calm down, kid.” She was not good at this, but she really tried to reassure him and to calm him down a bit. Some people were just not cut for this game. Although babying him was not going to help him later on, she chose that route still. “I won’t pressure you into killing the guy. I volunteer as tribute, already,” she offered. “But, you got to calm down.”
[ trigger warning: graphic death ]
The other’s words made her laugh. Just when she was about to pull the trigger, the other dropped the bomb. “So, the guy is saying...you are saying that your cylinder is right there in his guts.” It made her laugh some more. She kneeled by the man’s side and poked his head. The civilian was still choking on his blood and his death was imminent. “They used you as a mule. I wonder what you’ve done to be subjected to that,” she mused as she placed the gun right on his forehead. “You were destined to die. May you find peace…” And, she shot him at point blank range. The civilian’s brain matter and juices were spreading on the concrete. It was truly one kind of a twist. The Collective was sure to relish it as they watch it wherever they watch the missions (she imagined in a salon with big screens while pouring some exquisite wine and dining).
Thorn did not waste anymore time. She went straight into god mode. Her cylinder transformed to its kusarigama ‘normal form’ before transitioning into its scythe ‘evolved form’. “In his stomach, you said,” she repeated his words looking at him with her pinkish scarlet eyes/ In a elegant display of move, she proceeded in cleaving the corpse. Once back to her normal state, seconds later, she moved and stood right before the other candidate. Her tone was unintentionally cold. “I guess it is time for you to understand that you cannot have sympathy for others when you are on a mission. Emotions get in the way and get you killed. You do not want to learn it the hard way.” His cylinder was in that civilian. They were fated to go down that road. “I’m not gonna gut him for you, so what are you waiting for?”
was this how lucifer felt when he fell from grace? when he got his ass kicked by archangel michael? fuck, if she knew. her compulsory literature class during university was hardly riveting enough to make her pay attention, let alone show up to the lectures. she didn’t even read paradise lost. because that’s what sparknotes is for. saving students from the hassle of reading books they’re forced to study, and she still got one of the highest grades in class despite never showing up. ( ha, take that professor lee! ) not that it mattered considering her university doesn’t even know she exists anymore — which is a good thing, now that she thought about it. anyways, she’s pretty sure that landing on some nasty apartment dumpster would be on the same level as getting kicked out of heaven, if not higher. [ ... ]
She chuckled quietly at the bow. More at ease, after a moment of glancing around anxiously, Thorn pointed at the direction of the door with a tilt of her head before proceeding inside herself. She was not ignoring the other more like she wanted to take cover before anyone would come in the area. It was not like they had all the time of the world anyways. The damaged door gave it all away. Inside the store, her sight was already on the boxes that were laying around in the back. She remained quiet for a few more seconds before finally responding.
“For your first inquiry, I can’t stand the wretched stench of blood especially when it is not my own,” she answered with a grimace. “I was in dire need of a shopping session. I believe that you need one as well considered that you stink. Did you go dumpster diving or what?”
Thorn moved to the aisles and start rummaging around to find a flashlight. She deemed turning the lights on too risky. Then again, it was not like she had all the time in the world on her hand, so turning them on would help her loot more quickly and efficiently. The choice was quite hard to make since both had a similar weight on her risk scale. Still as she was searching, she did found a few trinkets. Batteries and water bottles.
“As for your second question…” she finally opened her mouth again as she picked up a water bottle and offered it to the latter (by placing close to her). “Mine was hanging on a branch. There was a mercenary there who posed as a candidate. It was quite eventful. I ended up meeting that guy, but his name eludes me. Can you still believe that some people are still pretty innocent after playing for so long?” She sighed as she opened a bottle or herself. “Was yours easy to find?” she questioned falling into pleasant chit-chat even if time was of the essence.
❝For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, DAWN-kaleidoscopic within the crack.❞ d.h. lawrence
THORN&CAVALIER ( @blckcavalier )
Paranoia and anxiety coupled together were slowly driving her down the wire. She should have known than to constantly part ways with her companions. She did not do it, because she wanted to. She did it, because she calculated the risk in staying in pairs or groups for too long. The mafia would catch on and would attack them soon after. Alone, there was less risk; yet, it was far more dangerous. The drug had not flushed out her system. It made her dumber (she presumed) since, in retrospect, she realized that she was making some of the poorest decisions. She could get killed. Maybe, she had a death wish. “It’s not like I will be terribly missed,” she mused as she walked down some path. She was wandering around at this point without no map to guide her to the safe zone. Worse, there had been a lot of murders, but the significant lack of police officers in the streets was an alarming concern. At least, they could have been deployed to protect the civilians.
Lost in her thoughts, she was unaware of how her situation. She was usually far more aware of her surroundings, but, ever since the mission started, she was a mess as Thorn was on edge when she thought about the missions and her surroundings to much or numb when she thought about life (and how death would resolve so much). There were times when she would have sudden burst of happiness to the point of twirling and humming unbothered by her predicament. Meanwhile, she was being cornered from the north and the south by mercenaries who noticed someone acting strange in the streets. They would have not known if it was not for her behavior, because she was not wearing the clothes the Collective gave her (she, initially, had a hold of herself and was doing well). It happened in a blur. One moment, she was in her little world. The next moment, she crashed back into reality.
HER SHOULDER WAS BURNING OR…
Her brain processed the pain as a burning sensation coming from her thigh. Her first reaction was to deploy her cylinder. She had no time to look at her injury. All of senses were awakened as if her real self had taken over. They were three at first glance. Using the the chain, she attacked at mid-range to catch one of them (using the sickle as a hook) by the neck (that one was no longer a concern). They were only human; therefore, more or less physically weaker. By no means was she going to underestimate them though. She used one of the handguns that she had kept from her constant looting and shot the one coming from her right side. She felt happiness (short-lived happiness) when she successfully managed a headshot. There was still another to deal with and he was quite close. Aside from that, she made a critical mistake. Instead of finishing the hooked assailant, she had directed her attention the one that came to her from the side. Therefore, both were coming for her. She was going to die, because of a foolish mistake.
Suddenly, she heard two shots. Whoever was behind these two shots was precise, because both mercenaries fell like flies. That or the person missed her twice. She could not let her guard down just now. She took cover by remaining close to a tree. The more time she spent there and felt like the coast was clear. The more the adrenaline rush that kept her slightly alive was wearing down. Slowly, the pain was taking over. It was not something that she could ignore anymore. Her legs gave up and she leaned on the tree trunk. At some point, she just sat there with her back protected and with a handgun in hand. That was when she heard noise. Footsteps to be more precise. A number four? Ironic, just like death… she thought. and grab another weapon that she cannot discern. Before number four could make a move, her guardian angel somehow shield her. She heard a swing. She was probably imagining it too, because she could have sworn that she heard a slice. Then, that guardian came back to her and the mere sight of the familiar face left her perplexed.
“Out of all people, it had to be you,” she whispered. Guardian angel? Not really. She would be a damn fool to think so.
❝With my last breath, I’ll exhale my love for you. I hope it’s a cold day, so you can see what you MEANt TO ME.❞ jarod kintz
THORN&FIREFOX ( @blckfirefox )
She does not like him. Not one bit. (Lies, he ranks high in her list of friends, but that is some information that God forbids he ever know). Off-days could be surprisingly boring (which was weird, because, at least, she was not fighting for her survival). Since he was around, why not going out for a change of scenery. Staying at the condominium was out of the question. She was not going to stay around where all the screens were livestreaming the current ongoing mission. If she could avoid watching others suffer or die, she gladly would avoid it. And, the latter had a lot of complaints about this too.
They arrived in Seoul around the evening just in time to start restaurant hunting. If it was not for Thorn’s lateness, maybe she could have asked to go at some mall and chill. Then again, with Firefox commenting on the poor decisions she would make was not something she wanted to inflict on herself.
“I feel like eating meat today,” she share looking around. “As for what I do not want, I’d love it if we stay away from the soups even if they are ‘refreshing’ for this time of the year.” She glanced at the other waiting for a reply. It was not like they were in a hurry. Unless the latter wanted to make it back as fast as he could (said no one ever). “We have so much catching up to do, sunshine. Such as how ridicule you looked during your last mission. If I recall, one of the new kids could not differentiate between an ally or an enemy. He almost chop your head,” she tapped Firefox’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of your reflexes. So, today, it’s my treat.”
❝Patient: Times changes everything.
House: That's what people say. It's not true. DOING THINGS CHANGE THINGS. Not doing things leaves things exactly as they were.❞ dr. gregory house (dr house)
THORN&ABSOLEM ( @absolemblck )
“Can you call me by my real name again and tell me stories about us working at the hospital?” The other asked one day while they were out in the city at some cafe. Thorn, nervously, looked down to her cup of tea. She added some sugar and kept stirring in a swirl motion the spoon in her hand. Thinking about the past reminded her of good times, but it always hurt when reality came crashing back into her mind. “We weren’t exactly working yet,” she rectified still looking down. “Jennie, you were...18...when...we were freshmen...Freshmen with big dreams to save the world.” They wanted to save the world, but, now, they were the ones who needed saving. Near the cafe, on the other side of the street, stood a hospital. Perhaps, that was why Absolem was suddenly nostalgic. It could have been them wearing lab coats and scrubs. They would still be almost graduates. Probably could have live the medical drama life too. Knowing the other, she would have worn those cute scrubs while Sojin was more of the classic one color type. “...I’m not feeling like telling a story about what would we have become...too depressing. Reminiscing sounds okay…” She gave in to her own bittersweet nostalgia.
THREE YEARS AGO…
Their class was an interesting one. Many were aspiring to become doctors, but decided to begin in nursing to gain some experience. Sojin shared the sentiment. She just wanted to jump into scrubs and take care of the patients while seeing doctors at work firsthand. She did not want to waste herself behind a desk while listening to professors talking. There were more girls than guys, but the ratio was not so bad. Then, first semester passed. She had passed all her classes and the second semester they would set their feet in a hospital. It made her so happy that she leaped of joy in front of the hospital (of course, she was happy that she had not failed, because, supposedly, failure of any semester meant a repeat of the first allegedly). That was when she met an equally cheerful student. She was a bit shorter than Sojin though, but still cuter. It was strange that they had never met considering that Sojin, social butterfly that she was, would attend gatherings all the time.
“Hey there!” she called out with a smile.
They were both incredibly (and funnily) early and not expected for an hour or so; therefore, they had the time to chat. Sojin extended her hand to the other keeping that beaming smile across her face. “We’re, uhm, co-workers. I mean…” that started on the wrong foot. “Okay, I just made this awkward. Let me scratch that and say, hi, my name is Jo Sojin, nice to meet you.” Hopefully her instinct were not wrong and that she was write about the other being part of the nursing department and was not in MED. It would have been a whole new level of awkward even more so than seconds ago. And, she wanted a friend to hang out with. And, they could go grab a coffee while waiting. Maybe, she was acting out of nervousness and excitement and the girl happened to be the first person to have been around. With her other hand, Sojin scratched her head while nervously giggling. Will she reply now? Or do something? It’s embarrassing. Why is she leaving me hanging?
❝To be TRUSTed is a greater compliment than being loved.❞ george macdonald
THORN&NEBULA ( @blcknebula )
If she would have had the chance to life a normal life, she would have become a pediatrician. It was her passion to make sure that children were in good health and were smiling. But, Fate had other plans in her hands. Some of her plans were just disturbing. Here was Thorn moving through the aisles gathering all kind of items: bottled water, bandages, cotton balls, a sewing kit, a small bottle of vodka and a plier. It was really a sick joke. One of the guards was following her closely for some odd reason. Perhaps, the items in question raised suspicion (it was not like that there was a rule that implied that all candidates needed to go the clinic to treat their wounds). As she left to pay, Thorn made sure that she smiled at the guard to make sure they understand that she knew just how grateful she was of the attention. She also went to buy some clean men clothes before going back to her apartment where her visitor was waiting patiently (and, hopefully, not bleeding out from his arm).
Mumbling curses under her breath, she moved around her place calmly frantic. From time to time, she would go to her patient and made sure he was not dying yet. Other than that, she had to make sure that she had clean sheets on her bed, that she had found her first aid kit, that she had boiling water, that she had bought every missing items, that she had her medical manuals and that she was calm and relaxed (which she was not entirely, but eventually she would be). “I’m going to take a quick shower while you take off your shirt and drink these painkillers,” she eventually broke the silence between them as she handed him a bottle of water and two pills. “I do not get why you cannot go meet the experts with their high-tech surgery room,” she commented with a raised eyebrow. “I may have medical experience, but, sir, you’re being reckless and you’re not the reckless type.”
Thorn went to take her shower only when she was certain that he took the painkillers. Nebula could be quite the stubborn individual. He was three years his senior and was among the near-rare few to have survived five years. He was impressive and a natural leader too. The first time that they were on a team mission together, Thorn was no longer considered green, but she was still inexperienced. His collected demeanor was what she respected the most. While the rest of the group could not let a person die, he stood up and made sure everyone realized that, to survive, they had no choice, but to sacrifice the dead weight. Thorn recalled calculating the risk, and, since the rest seemed so unwilling to do the dirty work, she did not mind giving the late candidate the coup de grace. It was ironic in a sense since Thorn’s weapon was literally a scythe. Eventually, she ended up being sort of a second-in-command to him (who seemed never too please with the idea of being a ‘leader’).
A sigh escaped her lips when she was tying her hair into a bun. To think that she had to perform a surgery this early in the morning. She dressed up and went into her bedroom. A shower could make wonders, because she was completely composed when she reached a needle in her first aid kit. “Sir,” she stressed the word that had the ability to thick him off sometimes (although, he might had become immune at this point). “You might want to lay down on your stomach. It would be the best way to remove the bullet. Unless you want to do it standing up of course,” she suggested with a bottle of morphine. Hopefully, he was not expecting miracles from her, but she knew that she could get the job done. “I still want to how it happened. You owe me that much.”
“we can’t just leave him to die,” saint manages to croak out, eyes never leaving the man. he mentally counts every single time the civilians chest rises and falls in his struggle to breathe. saint’s heart aches painfully. “we - we can’t do nothing. this is our fault.”
Her eyes narrowed on the other candidate. She could understand why he felt apologetic towards the victim; yet, she could not understand his reasoning behind his last statement. Regardless her poker face, he left her baffled and bemused. “How is his condition our fault?” She inquired as she sat next to the civilian’s body. “Did we force him to come out of the safety of his house? Did we expect him to come out of his house? If yes, then I agree that it is our fault. However, it is not case. We did not decide to play devious games for sport. We were not even coerced into it.” She turn to face the the victim. It was sad that he was dying, but it was not their fault.
Using her medical knowledge into good use, she examined the latter’s injury and found where the wound was. No wonder that he had difficulty breathing since the bullet lodged itself into his left lung missing the heart. He was dying. He was going to inevitably die actually. If they were going to notify the authorities, they missed the right time for it. “We can do something, kid. We can either wait until he takes his last breath or we can give him a painless and quick death. We do not have the time, the equipment or the manpower,” she tried to reason him by giving him facts. “Punctured lung and lots of blood loss. He might have other injuries, but I do not want to waste time here. The mercenaries are everywhere. Who knows if they are not coming now. It is worth mentioning..”
She paused when she could feel foreign touch on her back. The civilian managed to move somehow. Thorn turn her head towards him and confused. “You have a strong will to live or do you have something to say?” He spoke words, but she failed to understand what he was saying. All she gathered was him pointing at his stomach. “Kid, want to play hero? I think he wants something from us and you wanted to do something.” Giving a bit of time to the victim was the least she could do in term of respect. There was one aspect that the other candidate was right on when it came for their part to play. It was their presence that brought the mercenaries around and that got that man into their mess. That was the only fault that she was willing to take. Aside from that, she knew that they were not in the red. They were victims too if one looked at the bigger picture.
❝ The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you LEFT BEHIND. ❞ kiran desai (the inheritance of loss)
THORN&ACE ( @aceblck )
Over time, people change. A person could have been the kindest social butterfly; yet, become a the coldest of person in an instant after certain events. Becoming a candidate did change a number of people. Although she was aware that she changed quite drastically, Thorn was happy that the ‘little brotherly figure’ seemed to have kept his charms and his temper. Not willing to openly admit it, she acknowledge how strong he was and how stronger he turned out be. Thinking back, they had known each other since they were in the tunnel. He was probably her longest and lasting friendship (since many fell in battle). Thorn just sighed and ruffled his hair until it was completely messy. “You little brat,” she mumbled while giving him rare genuine smile (a smile that she use to have before).
TWO YEARS AGO...
The shrieking noise in her head was what made her jolt as she woke up. Tinnitus was the medical name if she could remember correctly. Nothing was making much sense anymore and her mind was all over the place. One thing did remain the same: waking up in the tunnel. This time, however, she was not alone, but she was still one of the first to have woken up. Besides her, there was a boy (he had this boyish appeal and did not look over twenty in any angle of his face). One by one, everyone was coming back to their senses. The mixture of the groans and yawns was hilarious to her and she jumped at the sound of her laughter (it had become so unfamiliar after going through this mess). The boy still seemed to be sleeping, so, instinctively, Sojin thought of waking up the kid, but when she moved, she was almost yanked back. That was when she realized that she was chained. It was degrading to say the least, but, after everything, she did not seem to care anymore. She managed to poke his head with her foot’s big thumb. He did not bulged, so she let him be for the time being (he was not the only in deep slumber anyways).
Engaging into her first conversation with a person was eventful. The chain was not going to stop her from behaving like the social being that she was. The recurrent topics were related to their predicament and some had many theories ranging from some sort of initiation by the secret service for new agents to some sort of sick game by a serial killer (that last theory made her laugh as she remembered that the Saw saga). From time to time, she would take a peek at the boy to check if he was fine. The movement of his chest indicated that he was breathing thus she concluded that he was still alive. Still, Sojin wondered if she should wake him up. Her caring (or nurturing) nature took over, and she let him be once more. Also, if she took into account her little experience, every time she found herself back to square one from being knocked out she woke up on her own and no one rushed her.
The remaining few woke up eventually (one of them being quite loud and erratic). Sojin looked by her side and she noticed that the boy had woken up. Actually, he seemed to have been awake for a while now. She was so immersed into her conversation with her other neighbour that for a moment, she did not bother with him. “Slept well?” she tried shaking her hand in front of his face. She could not discern his expression from his facial features; yet, a part of her assumed that he was probably confused by the situation. “You’ve out of it for a while. I failed at bringing you back from dreamland, but I’m glad that you look okay. Are you alright?”
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