He’s headed for Jongdae’s room before he’s consciously aware of it. He’s cold and miserable, and perhaps a little bit lonely, and so Baekhyun isn’t even all that surprised when he realizes where he’s ended up.
He is a little surprised to see Jongdae already standing in his open doorway.
Baekhyun blinks. “..Am I that predictable?” he hazards, reluctant to even hear the answer.
Groups of friends and strangers chatter up and down the halls on the busy rainy morning. With the dorms open for the rest of the community and warmth and services available to them, Jongdae has gotten used to seeing unfamiliar faces when he steps out of his own little room. The air strains with slight tension (“It really won’t flood right?” “No, that’s kind of hard to do around here...” “The rain is so strong though; I nearly got swept up in it!”) because the unpredictability in an otherwise stable Eden was always lurking around the corners.
Jongdae’s sigh dies in his throat when a pair of shoes stop right in front of him, blinking at their familiar shape and the voice that perks the tips of his ears and his eyebrows slant in curiosity.
“Byun Baekhyun,” his lips curl into a soft grin. “You’re back for more, I see~” His voice nearly purrs at the soft jab into his friend’s ego, stepping back into his doorway. “You coming in?” he then laughs, already turning at the heel so he could fluff up a bit of the cushions to accommodate his guest. “It’s weird seeing you without the Hot Rod,” he comments, already rushing to his fridge to look for something to offer Baekhyun, taking a stab even at their absent friend (but in Jongdae’s defense, Chanyeol was both hot and a rod -- fire mimicry and basically a pole).
Hi everyone! So I’m officially down to 2 more finals assignments, packing/moving, and then I’ll be back (as much as I can be!) to post replies and things.
To the people I owe tags to - Do you still want to keep the thread going? I know how hard it can be to find inspiration again when a scene has been stalled for so long. Please let me know and we can work with it or around it!
I can always write solos to wrap the scenes up so nothing is open ended (: Let me know if you also want to do new plots and stuff! My write page is always open, although I’m looking for more people to engage Jongdae’s gifts with.
Jongdae hated the cold. It wasn't so much that he liked the heat better, but between the constant uncomfortable tingling in his fingers down to how his shoes feel like ice boxes, Jongdae always felt more frustrated trying to constantly feel warm enough to stand still rather than enjoying the toe-tapping, finger-squeezing, spine-shivering fidgeting he must perform. It's more tiring to constantly be moving compared to standing there sweating without effort in heat and humidity.
The rain also reminded him of feelings of longing, of wanting, of being stuck, and what kind of mood was that to spend his day off? Still, water was fascinating the way it came down from the sky; terrifying in the way it was involved in stories like how gods would flood the world to cleanse it and how similar floods plagued parts of the world to this day.
Jongdae collapses onto his bed, pout soft on his lips as he pulls up his contacts list. Rainy days in could be fun if other people we involved. They could attempt to cook something, play games, order-in -- Anything with food and company sounded good...... But Jongdae's list of people didn't run that long. He's half distracted by a puzzle game he was in the middle of and actually trying to contact people to hang out with. When his eyes start to feel tired, Jongdae rolls out of bed and goes to prop his door open for fresh air and in the hopes that someone might walk by and take a chance to say hello. His hands rest on his hips as he stares down at his make-shift door stopper (Yes, that is a slipper wedged in the small space between the door and the floor; not quite elegant, but it does the job.)
My mom used to say.. “be happy for this moment. this moment is your life.” Kind of simple isn’t it but it’s worked for me I mean you should be happy make happiness for yourself?
Haha that doesn’t count you got to have at least one class you prefer above others, what about P.E?
‘V’
Taehyung regarded the request for trophy and came to draw one on the bottom right corner, small short lines above in a curve facing outward added, supposed to make it appear shiny with ‘happy’ scribbled in tiny hardly intelligible symbols on the front.
He tucked the note in it’s usual place, book closing in a loud clap and placed in its rightful place for this ‘J’ to read when they hopefully still returned to indulge him, as well as growing curiosity over who the person on the other side of this exchange was. If, possibly, he already had unknowingly met them.
Jongdae kinda-sorta hopes that the librarians don’t notice him coming in everyday. Then again, between actually doing work and just visiting his favorite vent, Jongdae kinda-sorta doesn’t care. No one’s asked him about his visits yet and he thinks he’s actually on the librarians’ good sides because he isn’t the type to sit here and watch movies all day, regardless of how many times it’s “for research”.
Today, Jongdae is adhering to only one agenda: check the book for a response. Jongdae admits to spending some nights tossing and turning from too many cups of coffee and thinking about the other person. He wonders if the close vicinity of Eden made it easier to find the other (although he also admits to fantasizing that it might be someone from a different time, like his own version of Il Mare).
Happiness was often something Jongdae never really thought about growing up. He knew what happiness felt like, between having steaming hot rice and a side of kimchi jjigae on a cold and rainy day courtesy of his mom and receiving money from his grandparents on Chuseok, Jongdae knew of material happiness, but he also felt the sincere happiness when it came to spending time with a family he loves. Happiness in moments seemed to weigh the most with him these days and well within the last year and a half. Little things like this, a note to him from someone genuinely curious, added to that.
Cheekily, he replies:
No? :< I guess it technically doesn’t. The school policies don’t state ‘cancelled classes’ as an official thing on the listings. I bet it would be popular though. I guess I enjoy culture classes more these days; things i never really thought about. Like why kimchi is so important.
Should I reveal something more about myself? Other than the boring black ink against your .. what are we now, up to 3 colors? I bet there’s more! Maybe I’ll do so sneakily~~
ㄱ. ㅈ. ㄷ. -- Kind of looks like it could be drawn into a bear... My art skills are not quite up to yours. Look at that trophy!
Did I reveal too much? ㅋ
ㅈ.
Jongdae imagined this could go on for months, maybe even a year, but the semester also has to end soon and it’s only a matter of time before the librarians do a thorough combing of their inventory. Jongdae doesn’t want to think he’d ever lose this, but imagine if some other student came by for this very same encyclopedia and disrupted the exchange? Jongdae tries not to think of it, pushing the book back into its place for ‘V’ to find.
She watches as his posture is suddenly straightened, and his eyes flicker over to something moving to the side of her. Her own eyes slowly slide over to the object or person that has briefly gotten his attention. Ah, the librarian. Probably coming to scold them for talking in a library and to lower their god-damn voices (she most likely did not say god-damn, but Krystal was sure she was thinking it). When the boy in front of her speaks again, Krystal turns her attention back to him.
She opens her mouth to speak, finger tracing random patterns on the wooden surface of the desk. “Yes, I do. Why? Is that wrong?” She tilts her head to the side, watching him with curiosity in her eyes.
Of course it wasn’t wrong, and Jongdae had a feeling that she knew that too. But the soft expression on her face with the possibility of a pout makes Jongdae feel like he might’ve said something wrong. But he quickly buries that thought. He wasn’t going to lose to his mental battle today.
“It’s just interesting,” he claims, a soft shrug to his shoulders also tugging the corner of his curled lips. “Between the Internet and visual media, it feels more effort to look for and open a book than it is to probably find that very same text somewhere online. People like--” and he hesitates to use the word ‘you’ or ‘us’ for the slight fear of offending her, “--who like books for the sake of them being books is a rare find.” He clears his throat at the end of that again, taking a small victory inhale of relief.
Jongdae felt more nervous about the eyes on him from afar than the way the girl’s eyes from across the table were trying to read him, trying to find a clue that could be on his face or in the way his hands fold over the edge of the table. “Should.. we go somewhere else?” he finally suggests, feet pressing into the ground to push the chair back slightly, making the librarian believe that they were on the way out, hence the chatting. “We can probably find a nicer place to hang out in,” and he shoots her a grin.
❝W-Where is hurting?❞ he finally could articulate those words, as his eyes glanced over him and scooted closer. ❝D-Don’t be scared, can you tell me if someone hurt you?❞
A pale skin, the crying, of course, he never saw someone in that state before but no, he would never let him there either, he needed to think in a plan as soon as possible, however, Jiyong looked around, there was no one, as if only they were in that place. His eyes returned to the other male, also, the weather changed to windy and that, for sure, didn’t help to the circumstances.
Could pain escalate so much and so fast that the body desperately tries to simultaneously shut down and yet take everything in at once? The conscience on time disappears with rational thought, not really aware of how long he’s been there or perhaps even how long he’s got left. It scares him to a deeper degree, knowing that while it’s impossible to choose when and where he could die, being on the street and alone like this without any form of help or a chance to live was definitely the last place he wanted to be.
Jongdae doesn’t really know how long he’s been there. Between the initial spike to the way it escalated so quickly, Jongdae is only aware of two things: this really fucking sucks, and the only support he has is the wall digging into his back. His vision is blotted; nothing is quite clear and all the lines are blurred, but Jongdae can’t say if he’s actually losing his vision or if he’s crying. Maybe both. And it really sucks to be stuck in this moment. He wants to think of his mother, the girlfriend he still didn’t acquire, all the kisses he’d never get to lay on anyone-- But are these really the last thoughts he wants to have on Earth?
The wind blows so gently and yet Jongdae feels like it could break his bones at how weak he’s gotten. He doesn’t know how much time has passed. With the droids stopped, the people panicked, with him being in the middle of downtown, the idea of seeing tomorrow was bleak and Jongdae rapidly accepted that. In his head he was starting to tread between reality and a projected one, perhaps to make the pain a little easier to bear.
“Where is it hurting?”
That wasn’t his voice; those weren’t his thoughts. Jongdae’s eyes open so fast and his back presses flat against the wall to desperately try and find the source of that voice. Maybe someone was kind enough, maybe someone could help him.
“Help,” he pleads, voice soft, cracking, and eyes blurring as the desperation yanks tears from him. “Help me please..” he chokes, voice barely above a whisper. He was terrified, but perhaps not quite so alone if this person was truly here to help.
“Hey uh…” Her voice was weak, soft as she walked towards him. “Are you alright?” A stupid question. Crouching before him she saw the grey for the first time. Hands flying to cover her mouth she had to struggle to keep herself from screaming, her eyes growing wide and tears fighting to spill over. Wings unfurl from her back, folding forwards slightly to conceal him from any other prying eyes.
“Are you hurt?” The panic was clear in her voice; what was she going to do? Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay!
The prickling sensation had Jongdae doubled over as it seared him from within, feeling sure that the ashen gray color was taking over his body, reaching through the main trunk and spreading quickly to the extremities. Jongdae didn’t have many thoughts to spare, but he knew it shouldn’t be like this and if so, this was punishment; someone had targeted him and he let his guard down. With the electricity off, the sun beat down on him harder, the process quickening and the pain escalating.
That apple.
His throat felt so dry, Jongdae was sure he’d cough out dust and that with his luck, it was a dry throat that he’d eventually ... die from. As the ashen gray creeps over his skin at an alarming rate, Jongdae might have been dying from a being burned alive from the inside.
Dying. Jongdae wasn’t unfamiliar with the thought. After the devastation that was being recruited and dropped off into Eden, Jongdae couldn’t think of a reason to live. If he was sick to the point of being taken away, then he should just end his life, end his misery, end that was the reality of spending the rest of his life alone locked away like this.
But it was those very same thoughts where Jongdae realizes just how scared he was to die. He had long began to let go of expecting his life outside of Eden back, slowly crawling out of his shell to make a life here the more it grew apparent that he was not going to get his old life back. But beneath the blazing sun and from the heat within him, Jongdae isn’t sure what to feel, if he could feel. His head rolled back in agony, eyes meeting the bright and taunting glare of the sun, wanting to curse it for this pain and yet perhaps thankful that this might be the last image he sees. How fitting.
But as Jongdae accepts his fate, something interrupts the sun; a shadow cools his surroundings for a brief moment and Jongdae chokes a sigh of relief. His eyes open, bleary but searching as his ears register a voice, muffled but he recognizes the sound of concern; his sight is blotted out between tears, but he sees the outline of wings as the light peeks through soft feathers-
“Help me,” he whispers, head lolling forward from the weight and his weakness towards his knees.
As he flipped the page he was momentarily lost in picturing angels walking along the streets of Eden, wondering would they feel trapped here without being able to fly up in the sky. There’s no answer to the inquiry as he focuses back on writing some form of coherent response to this person, bright blue pencil twitching in his grasp.
There should be more nice days I agree! I am having an average day right now ah but your letter did make it a hundred times better already so thanks for writing me back^^ I’m looking forward to art class though that is always fun what’s your favourite class?
‘V’
God. Damn. Science. Papers.
All of them.
Every last one of them.
Jongdae doesn’t recall science ever being this ... Sherlock-y. It made the impression that almost everything across the basic scale has been looked at, prodded, and looked at with a microscope; it was hard to imagine that there are people out there somewhere dedicating their entire lives to figuring out one more thing about a tried and true subject, their references becoming a laundry list of names and too specific titles.
'Different distribution of histone modifications in genes with unidirectional and bidirectional transcription and a role of CTCF and cohesin in directing transcription.' 2015.
Gee, I wonder what this paper will be about-
Jongdae's head drops and lolls on the page, pout obvious and eyebrows knitted at the center. Jongdae will never understand the reason to create his own laundry list of names and too specific titles when his entire biology experiment was watching bubbles form in a glass tube. How.
With his energy drained and tension sitting at his shoulders, Jongdae decides he is in much need of a study break and perhaps a puff from his favorite air conditioning vent. And so, with his chair pushed in neatly, Jongdae roams, half-checking on the notifications on his wrist band and half wondering on what ailments he could flex his cells at to fix or strengthen them. He really needed to go to the gym and train some more--
And it's on this note that Jongdae notices The Note right by his favorite vent. A bit of blue had been sticking out as Jongdae yanks the spine of the book towards him again, kittenish curls stretching into a soft smile. The last note was in orange. Jongdae opens the book to the new note and grins; definitely a new note and a human being on the 'other side' of this phenomenon. It doesn't take long for Jongdae's fingers to itch for a pen, uncapping it with his mouth as his eyes gloss over the words a few more times before turning the page over.
The angel definitely had wings; they were full and feathery, but I wish I could recall more. It was a sweet voice too. Was I dreaming? 'Day'-dreaming? Daydreaming?
I'm told even an average day can be fulfilling. Between all that's going on, an average day might be comforting. Happiness is hard to come by, so one hundred-fold is a major achievement. Bring me a trophy~My favorite class is when class is cancelled~~~~
ㅈ.
Jongdae reads over his note and gently blows on it for the ink to dry before tucking it back into the book carefully. Needless to say, this was a bit thrilling; it yanked his curiosity in a good way and it made the library more exciting. He silently wishes no one else will come by on this, or maybe try to take his spot as its correspondence. Jongdae mentally erases that flare of jealousy.
[writer’s note] starting this little segment just to add variety to this blog. i’ll be tapping into jongdae’s possible music tastes with the tag #jongkidpod to reflect his inner thoughts, feelings, and of the like because jongdae is the type to think his life should have a soundtrack to live by
Placing the book back in its place carefully Taehyung took a step back, gaze fixed on the novel as if he could magically make the next person to appear in the vicinity of it grab the thing and find his words left behind. Wishful thinking. A quick glance around confirmed no one had seen him, or so he assumed anyway, the male deciding to head out for time being with knowledge he wouldn’t be able to stay away without coming around to check often enough the library clerk would be giving him strange looks and grow overall suspicious of him by the end of the day. Which he totally wasn’t. Nothing suspicious in him. Not one bit. Nuhhuh.
Jongdae really should find more places to spend his time in.
But what better setting for intellectual stimulation than the university library? With its rows and rows and shelves and shelves of books way older than he was containing knowledge and hard work (and probably nicely funded) between leather bindings, or even more so at the tap and swipe of a finger on their hologram screens, it just takes one thought, one lingering sense of inspiration and Jongdae could be the next fucking Sir Isaac Newton. ... But, really, who in their twenties these days was looking to solve world peace or explain why apples fall until they hit the ground and roll off? When stripping away the poetry of why Jongdae was taking quiet steps alongside the rows of books and the smell of musking yellowed pages, Jongdae was more interested in finding the source of the room's air conditioner so he could stand there a while and let the sweat that glued the shirt to his back dry a little. Ah. A deep sigh heaves the stress off his shoulders and he stands there, taking in the steady blows of cool, crisp air.
It might've been lame to stand there and soak it all up, but the way his skin dries and the shirt peels off was more than worth it. It doesn't stop his self-conscious creep up on him though, looking around to see if anyone was watching him be greedy with the vent. As his eyes scan, he catches the edge of a sheet along the flat line of books, probably a collection of encyclopedias that came in a set, and that sheet obviously didn't belong. He reaches over, fingers gently tilting the spine of the book towards him to open to the page; it was probably just some other student's note that was forgotten in the flurry of research, but much to his surprise it was an open letter (or at least, to him, he liked the idea it was written to him).
The first thing that struck him was the orange ink. Not his gut-reaction choice; he was more of a plain, classic black ink guy. Next was the style of print; he couldn't quite decern if it was a man's handwriting or a woman's. And finally, should he reply? His lips curl gently. He should definitely reply, but in what tone? In honesty, or should he make something up? He turns the sheet over and digs into his pocket for a pen as he sinks to the ground, sitting with the book closed on his lap as a writing surface. Jongdae paused for a moment to compose the first thought.
Hello. And yes, he returns the smiley.
I've done a lot of thinking today, although most of them have concluded as, 'You're wasting time.' Cruel, right? It isn't a healthy thought considering this is a place for thinking. But. I think I met an angel some time last week and I'm still thinking about it. Funny how something like that usually happens when you're not quite present, right? But I hope you're having a nice day too; we need more of those.
ㅈ.
Jongdae reads the note over several times as the ink dries, blowing over the surface with a puff of a breath before tucking it back between the pages in the same fashion he found it and replacing the book and following it with a soft stretch as he reaches above his head. Standing beneath that vent felt a touch too cold and Jongdae leaves the note with a curl at his lips.
Tilting her head, Krystal glances back at Jongdae for a moment before looking back at the peeling letters of the book. “So, what brings you to the library? Are you writing a report?” She looks up for a moment from picking at the book to smile at him again. Despite the quiet and sleep-deprived atmosphere, she shows no sign of tiredness, only flashing him a bright smile as she waits for his response.
“Ah... No, no thanks,” he laughs nervously, clearing his throat a little (okay, maybe a lot, but he’s trying to be smooth about it), hand waving politely to disregard the offer. “I’m fine, really,” he grins, pearly white teeth catching the light of the window. His hands smooth over the surface in front of him; with a few books and not even a pencil in hand, it looked to be like he was here just to be here, sitting in a space and looking the part for it. But maybe he just didn’t like pencils, or that he forgot his today.
His eye focus back on her at the double question and nods almost immediately. But wait, that’s not what I’m here for-- The spine tenses and he’s shaking his head again; did he even understand the spoken language anymore? Jongdae was clearly not ready to socialize. He clears his throat again and laughs behind a soft hand. “I’m here for homework, but clearly.. It’s not really going anywhere,” he finally says. There, see? You can do it. Dumbass. In the inner workings of his brain, he makes a promise to himself to learn how to talk to people at the drop of a hat; this was embarrassing and it wasn’t like Jongdae forgot how to be human.
At the blink of an eye, he straightens his posture and squares his shoulders. There was a charm to his sharpness with everything about him seemingly angled from his cheekbones to the shape of his fingers. Although the library wasn’t quite the place to socialize (he can see the librarian out the corner of his eye making a move), he wasn’t going to let this moment pass for the sake of a few house rules. “Does this mean that you pick out books for the sake of reading them, then?” For every moment he spends alone and without interaction, he really should learn to converse smoothly and without missing a beat if he was going to be a suave individual.
Hi all! Although the event is officially closed, is anyone willing to help poor Jongdae out? I’m interested in writing him through this difficult time, so if anyone is willing to help him get better or to use their abilities to stabilize him, please poke us in the ask box or AIM: jongkidenergy and we can outline a solid plot (:!
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