BOY JOVE. @boyjove - Tumblr Blog

MUN STATUS !

040225; my last major deadlines end on 041525 :'] bear with me lovelies

THREAD STATUS !

i. ii w. ganymede; reply first in queue!ii. sucka ! w. hymnosis; reply secon in queue!

DM / PLOTTING STATUS !

yo kiyong / 1nfernoh ; plottingkwon sera / liveformebaby ; awaiting starterchae wonshik / draed ; plottinghan hyerin / 5eraphism ; plottingjiang yeqing / 8ractured ; plotting

#P--⟢ARA #THRE--⟢AD #RE--⟢PLY #BOY --⟢ WRITES A POEM.#PEPPER --⟢ WRITES A NOTE.#INDEX.#GRAVEYARD --⟢ IN A BOTTLE.

“hey uh…” he doesn’t really recognise who it is (and can barely see out of this freaking thing!) but immediately jumps on the opportunity to receive help. if they’re laughing, they’re less likely to tell him off. “a little help? pleaaasee?”

it was some three hours into the dance of reunion that chilseong's head began to pound, bringing with it a spot of brilliance and black that spiraled no matter where he looked. the headache which had begun early morning at the first touch of sun slicing upon his face was now a crying child, and not unlike a tired parent, chilseong was forced to follow its whim until it fell quiet.

this led him to a quiet, dark room, in which he bumped and stumbled his way through until he came upon a wall nearly too fast. he sat on the ground right there, inhaling deeply; the loud chatter was but a murmur here, and finally, the stars and blackholes in chilseong's eyes began to flit away. in his stupor there came waves of nausea that slowly fell into shallows of sleep, and he remained suspended in this cosmic, calm state for a measure of time.

as though out of his dreamlets themselves, he hears the turning of the doorknob before his eyes fully open. through the haze of his slow wake and the new light chilseong could see the costumes strewn about, and the piles and piles of memorabilia covering several tables. he catches the creases and corners of someone else rummaging through the costumes, even coming nearby chilseong before, like a crow catching topaz, darting back into the mess. he's thoughtfully considering what methods of reality tv-esque torture the producers are going to put them through with all this when a sequence of bizarre sounds forces his attention to shift back to the other person in the room.

he can't help it, he laughs, the sound like the call of some gentle bird. looking more like a picasso portrait than a human the other shuffles around themself, and the longer chilseong looks the harder he laughs. he watches as the portrait whips around in his general direction, pleading for help, and slowly gets to his feet.

#SUCKA !#THRE--⟢AD

boyjove

JUPITER & ORBIT.

finally !!!!! click the title to view chilseong's plots & connections !! included are:

+ horror trope dynamics + casual / crack plots + thoughts / starting points based on the notes from the positions page for roles i thought could bring our muses together ( paired with the sections in his bio about how he is as a coworker, etc, i think they paint a good base for plotting ) + a section of connections relevant to chilseong's past!

also, if it were possible for a carrd layout to be so mobile unfriendly it were antimobile, this would be it, so please view on desktop !! if anything interests you, hmu on ( preferred ) disc [ peppercrypt ] or tumblr !

boyjove

updated to include locations: both points of interest & the overlook ! this is mainly to help plotting from the ground up, but i've also included which locations i'd love to do something with to help find starting places :]

#PEPPER --⟢ WRITES A NOTE.

he'd found a name in his perusal of the old cast lists as they clambered up the hill. had clicked through every professional portrait. the name, tucked beneath his tongue until willingly given to him, quieted the restless something in him. he did not know everything; but he knew something, and it would be enough to draw up beside chilseong; unknowingly like a rabbit to teeth.

EXPOSITION: FIN.

#I. G --⟢ NYMEDE #INDEX.

JUPITER & ORBIT.

finally !!!!! click the title to view chilseong's plots & connections !! included are:

#PEPPER --⟢ WRITES A NOTE.#the speed of the cosmic expansion of the universe puts me to shame atp

click here to view chilseong's wiki !! i wrote it like it was part of a love kills wiki, so the details are from that perspective as opposed to his career in the us !! i'll be updating this as things unfold and more about chilseong is verbalized / brought to public attention !!

#PEPPER --⟢ WRITES A NOTE.#lvk:wiki

for @sehaa-lvk

PROLOGUE.

it was difficult to think that chilseong had ever been sober for longer than a week at a time; second only to the notion of chilseong picking up a bottle for an escape at all.

his manager had voiced his concern to chilseong to the point of beration; but each time chilseong would tell him that it was more necessary than medicine if he was to work the way he is. i'm drowning each time i try to sleep, he would say. every time my hands so much as touch a quarter i feel like i'm burning in hellfire.

it was a mysterious affliction, the hellfire and the drowning and the shades of sea he would turn in sunlight. and with it, the decayed attitude of a circusmaster with nothing to direct. it was unlike chilseong to inhabit a character he had finished working with, but then again ---

"this is not chilseong," his manager would whisper to his wife at night, his voice rippling across his aged face && dimpled sheets. "give him time, darling," his sweetheart would say. "perhaps his heart is broken, remember how you fell apart when we first broke up? / perhaps he is going through a sorely overdue rebellious phase / perhaps it is his way of crashing and learning to cope." and this would reassure chilseong's manager, for he had indeed lost himself for that measure of time his wife and him were apart, and he had gone through a belated rebellious phase full of vice, and he had also crashed and flailed before learning how to handle the world. hopeful, he would sleep to the slumbering sonnet of his wife's breathing on the line, in the warm shallows of his bed, and tell himself tomorrow it would be better.

but just past the wall behind where his head lay by his phone, chilseong would only become more lost. in the city of new york, in the dark, black ocean that was his bed, in the monsters that were his endeavors. he muttered like a madman in his sleep and woke up to jupiter's prose tumbling down from his lips onto the waves of his blankets.

this rot was not something that could be seen topically. rather, chilseong felt it when he attempted to sleep at night: the ruminating of water, the rebar mottling the corpse at the bottom of the lake, the broken church spire left to rust. there was something ancient under the swell of the lake; this they had all known. it had infected chilseong the moment he took that bloody fucking coin, and didn't he know? somewhere deep down? that it was forever an organ inside of him?

and yet why the lake came to him he couldn't understand; why now, after the years that had passed. why must it torture, and torment, and crumple him around in its torrent when it was all over and done with! for years it had been quiet, and now chilseong could barely hear himself without the dulling of his senses in alcohol.

needless to say, it was a hard-boiled six months for chilseong, with bottles piled high in patterns and snark at the tip of his tongue for anyone who caught him lost in riptide thoughts.

"he's in character right now!" his manager would quickly cover each time; && "my, what a marvelous commitment!" the affected would always reply, and leave him to his genius. chilseong felt like the decay that had caught the outer boroughs had caught him too.

if chilseong had found the email first, the events of this tale may never have come to pass. chilseong's body would slowly forget what his mind had already cast out, he would be able to collect change for his midnight gas station sweets once again, the strange cascade on his skin would have faded into the buttercup color of the sun, and it would all be a joyous, fateful affirmation of chilseong's manager's wife's suppositions.

but it simply wasn't so, as curses rarely are, and thus the day his manager read the email, so ended the daydreams, and with it all hope for a good ending.

the nightmare began like this: his manager looked at chilseong one night and realized that he was not looking at a boy, but a water-rotted corpse of a man.

something had happened in korea to trigger this, of course. his manager had plenty to feed that theory ( not that chilseong was able to say much about the matter to him; in fact, it felt as though the long lost boy wonder was losing more and more of what happened there as the days went by ).

"whatever had happened in korea must be solved for good and left behind there." he told his lovely boy, whose tired eyes made stains of the bottles in his room. chilseong had nothing to say to his sweet manager in return, only apology in the way he held his manager's hands and pressed his face to their tanned backs.

his manager printed chilseong's boarding pass to make it easier for his analog-loved hands to find, his passport was tucked into his bag, and with a final drowned drink he pushed chilseong to leave the united states with all of its eldritch forests and endless oppurtunity for the citrus.

chilseong doesn’t remember coming back to himself. perhaps it was in pieces, in the liminal hours of the journey. perhaps he came back to himself over and over as he slept, with every jostle of the plane in the atmosphere causing the waves in his mind to fold over themselves right side up. all he knows is that those hours felt like a drowning unique to itself, in clouds and swaths of ire and tire alike so thick he had to blink them away to see the earth below him.

they remained in his periphery as he stepped foot on korean soil as well, and blotted out the negative of the sun in chilseong's eyes when its light caught against the bus's steel bars. he draped himself like a king lost in the back, taking up too much space and throwing a hand over his throbbing forehead; that is, until a boy found his way next to him.

if chilseong's hands hadn't shielded him from the sight of boy in front of him he would have died right there, like a shakespearean tragedy so direct it was comical; but alas, he evaded death this one time, not noticing the way his body surged --- not towards himself to hurt --- but towards the gravitas of this newcomer. unknown to chilseong, the ancient thing inside of him grew towards the other's presence, beckoned towards him as much as it could in the confines of chilseong's body even, like a zenith, or a satellite, or an eye for their storms.

the bus began to move, and whatever cosmic scatter of marbles had spelled certain death for chilseong was lost in the past. the boy jove righted himself at the sound of stumbling feet from the kickback of the bus's movement, and pulled his suitcase to his other side to allow the person in front of him to sit. it was a rather unremarkable re-introduction to the boy he almost killed less than a year ago. one wouldn't be able to tell that he had once held him like something thought to be forever-lost refound, and promised to keep safe.

#I. G --⟢ NYMEDE #he sounds fatherless no matter what i do #enjoy #lvk:event001 #lvk:flashback #GRAVEYARD --⟢ IN A BOTTLE.#THRE--⟢AD

ENTER: THE RINGLEADER stage left.

#PEPPER --⟢ WRITES A NOTE.#lvk:intro

lanndscape

#BOY --⟢ WRITES A POEM.

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