SCORCHING

王诗雨

[entropicue]

hello.... sorry for my slightly mysterious entrance earlier. you can call me lovisa (she/her, 24) or lov, lovi, however you like! background outline can be found in the application on the main and basic info and connections on the blog, but click below the cut for a personality blurb and some general plot ideas for my girl shiyu. ◡̈ like this post or hit me up on dms/discord l03visa to plot something!

— while i do love her as a daughter (whom i presumably birthed at the age of 1) i can acknowledge that she's a more or less a troll. kind in nature but not always nice. generous as a rule but also entitled. something of a golden rule thing going on, she gives as good as she expects and it's uh, a little confounding at times.

— kind of pretentious, kind of a victim mentality about korean social norms. she's like omg the haters are mad because of my ethereal low waisted eco dyed skirt and my unfettered spirit aughh. and it's like yeah girl i'm sure that's exactly what it is!

— oscillates between 'the friend that's too woke' and putting her bitchy streak on public display. i understand these are not mutually exclusive per se, but i guess it's like that meme of girls preaching karma and kindness to the earth but then anonymously calling you a fat loser in twitter replies. it's not really to that level but she does operate on a baseline level of bluntness that doesn't always inspire faith in her good intentions.

— does not get the passive prodigy hate! i believe that she believes she tries as hard as anyone else, but hasn't connected the dots why people's eyes start twitching when she talks about intentionality and manifestation and how formatting your sources isn't crucial to letting your spirit shine through the text. while not socially inept to the point where she doesn't see it from people, as stated in the blurb it just doesn't register to her why she should care.

— i already touched on her being generous, and despite being something of a mean girl she truly believes in community! likes to get involved and for other people to come on board with her current projects or fixations, model her creations, gift giving and acts of service <3 in spite of everything else she's really a genuine extrovert, quite charismatic, easy flirt.

———

in terms of general connections, she's been in korea for three years now and her korean has been at conversational level since early on (working theory that she's not a real polyglot, just great at accents) so i'd like to think she has a pretty involved social life despite being a somewhat grating presence on campus lol.

strikes up conversations freely, so probably a few surface level friendships, girls being girls in the bathroom of a club slash party, maybe one or two genuine connections over the years! fellow foreigners pushed into a conversation at a party because they both lived in the same place at one point, B612 dorm mates who either vibe with her or leave strongly worded notes asking her to stop stealing their food from the main fridge. probably a roster of situationships.. sigh... if you need someone to poke a hornet's nest for plot development in general, she's a great candidate!

[stagedown]

whose hoodie is that? present, day 1 - friday night event starter for wang shiyu ( @entropicue )

it's the way that a gust of cold wind blows over her as if in punishment for her actions tonight.

not only did she do something she never would've done before, once again cursing the alcohol in her system, she's clearly broken a rule set by the camp and the university. but there is no time to lament over something that's already been done.

yes, she already jumped in the lake. and yes, she's just wearing a hoodie and her undies right now. and yes, the rest of her clothes are bunched up against her chest as she walks the path back to the dorms, trying not to trip on her slippers in the process.

cold, shivering, and sopping wet.

agatha reaches the dorms with her teeth clattering and is not expecting to run into anyone, thinking that the majority of the student body is standing on business with the trivia game. but she runs into someone as she rounds the corner, dropping her clothes in the process with her bra in full display on the floor.

"oh geez, you scared me!"

[entropicue]

Shiyu turns the corner in one of the hallways with eyes on her feet, trailing lines in the wood grain, inattentive to another body right in front. The contact is more surprising than anything, phone dropping out of her hands when her fingers go limp and splay haplessly in the air. A terrible jolt followe by an awful few seconds until she sees the screen light up, unscathed and landed on the right side. This is less than she can say for the tangle of clothing.

She looks to the floor, then to who she realizes is Agatha, and finally back again at two bra cups staring up at her.

"You scared me—" She accuses right back, and after more consideration, voice still thin and high and a little breathless on the comedown from the impact: "Oh geez?" She asks with a withering look, upward tick of the corners of her mouth into a smile. Almost despite herself.

"What are you doing?" The accusation is a little more playful, bending at the hip to pick her phone out from under some errant sleeve. It's moist to the touch, she's dismayed to find. A distinctly earthy smell to the space between them, something like wet cotton and moss. Her eyes narrow, mouth opens and closes, head tilts sideways. "Are these your clothes?"

Not to mention anything of the conspicously oversized hoodie with dark trickles down the shoulders, dampness around the collar. She gives Agatha a fighting chance at denial, keeps her voice to a hush while they huddle close.

[grimbound]

beggars can't be w. @entropicue

for someone who spent a good fifteen minutes trying to make a case for why you should feed me, lucas sure as hell isn't appreciative when he actually gets fed.

his nose scrunches as he picks out the colourful array of vegetables with his chopsticks and pushes them to the side. it's not that he can't eat them. he can, if someone held a gun to his head. it's just—he grew up on convenience store ramyeon and fish roasted over charcoal grills. his childhood knew next to nothing of fresh legumes.

"you want?" lucas offers the small pile on his plate to shiyu. despite his immense desire to dispose of these tasteless accompaniments, he unfortunately has trauma around wasting food ( some days, he still hears the taoist priest's voice berating him for leaving a grain of rice behind ).

he then picks at another thing. tries a teeny, tiny bite. frowns. "what the hell is this?" certainly not beef, that's for sure. he lifts it up for shiyu to see. "mushroom?"

[entropicue]

Shiyu pretends not to watch too closely the prodding and poking around on Lucas' plate, but can't help a wince at the outcome. No ground gained.

"Your leftovers?" She asks, twitching a little in her seat, limbs cycling through stages of numbness from the slumped posture on unpadded boarding. It still beats sitting inside though. Her own plate is empty on account of not overshooting the portion size, and also having a palate less liable to result in malnutrition. Small mercies. "No, no, I'm good."

It's not that what Lucas offering looks bad, it's still her cooking— perhaps only a little wilted at room temperature, or what she means to sound so dismissive. The irony of the whole situation plain to observe. It's rare enough she finds herself on the moral high ground.

"And I'm sure you can guess." She demands instead, invigorated by an opportunity to tease, and shifts to pull her legs up criss–cross, pushing her own plate away with the chopsticks still clattering around. "Not mushroom, think emoji."

[entropicue]

PEOPLE WATCHING / @lxckystrike

Day two of membership training, so called, and quarter past 10 feels more like the whip crack of dawn, utter assault on the senses. There's simply no sleeping or scrolling away the daylight with so many people about.

Shiyu ambles around the grounds for some time, giving a wide berth to the outdoor yoga area, with her head at a downward angle and the side of her palm pressed to her brow. The whole day open and quite nowhere she needs to be. It's freeing in a way, disorienting in a few others. She ends up yielding to a current of students flowing out of the pavilion to the trail going lakeside.

Everyone is there, she notes a little incredulously. Seemed like everyone was at yoga just a half hour ago, but numbers apparently deceive. One scheduled activity bleeds inconceivably into another. Her attention is sufficiently diverted by the activity in the lake that she barely register the particular person taking up one side of a particularly rectangular off the side of the boathouse. Prime seating in the shade.

"Excuse me, can I sit here—" Shiyu starts, not really asking, already hoisting one leg over front when she recognizes Jinyoung, with less of that stubborn posture she's used to. He looks very nearly contented until their eyes meet and hers light up with excitement, only a touch weary how she slouches down to sit beside him.

Heels digging into the sandy earth, legs outstretched. It's like adding to his burdens instantly makes her own lighter. Something to study further.

"You don't look like you slept much." She clears her throat, looks out again at the glittering water and heads bobbing up from under the surface, a group of paddleboarders some distance away . "Aren't you going swimming?"

[lovestereo]

Visit Original Link

[veritastrap]

well, shit. 

yerim’s little flicker of hope that shiyu might not want to entertain this dies a slow death over the next few moments, as she stands there studying the older. she doesn’t like the way she has to crane her neck, if only just a bit, for her eyes to remain on shiyu’s. 

the smart thing would probably have been to ignore all of this — even shiyu is surprised yerim actually showed up. but, it’s too late — if she leaves now, she’s just gonna look like a coward. that, and it would be practically the same as handing shiyu the win. (what exactly she’s winning is somewhat unclear, but yerim does know she doesn’t intend to lose). 

she scoffs at shiyu’s suggestion. “absolutely not,” she counters, “you’re not teaching me anything.” her tone is one of confidence, despite not actually having played badminton before. unimportant detail. 

there’s a pause, yerim’s eyes widening upon seeing shiyu ready to go, racket at the ready in her hand. the realization is dawning on her then, that she’s not at all prepared for this. 

… she doesn’t even have a racket, for god’s sake. she takes a moment to consider what would be more humiliating — leaving now, or asking to borrow one. deliberation doesn’t take long before she decides on the lesser of two evils. 

“can i borrow a racket?” she asks, keeping her expression neutral.

[entropicue]

Equal parts amused and relieved, Shiyu dips her head in a slow nod. Can't find it in her to complain about the set up. For all she knows Yerim has pranced around grander courts at members' clubs and Korean glamping grounds her whole childhood. Sure seems like it would have come up by now, but.

"You can have mine." She says without much deliberation, lacking the sportsman–like flair to get attached. Hers is like any other, except conveniently already in hand, ergo she holds it out for Yerim like some carbon fiber olive branch. "There's a couple in storage that some grad students left behind last year, I don't mind switching."

Rather than letting the tension build without aim, Shiyu sets the racket and bag down on the bench beside them and makes slowly toward the equipment room, path slanting sideways in an ambling path.

"Take what you need, and get on the court." Despite her very apparent lack of enthusiasm, there's a challenge carefully intoned there; for all of Yerim's unsubtleties, she figures one of them has to retain plausible deniability in stoking the rivalry. Careful provocations winning out in the end, a teaching moment if you squint. "You know where to stand at least, don't you?"

[entropicue]

EVENT #2 PLOTCALL & ACTIVITIES. alright. you already know what time it is.

FRIDAY.

— Passed out for the bus ride so she gets a head start on messing up her circadian rhythm for the weekend. If anyone wants to claim they endured an unconscious game of footsie on the road to camp, be my guest 👐

— Pre–lunch setting up in her room. Teaming up with Daji / @009wav to fight for the single bed which kind of defeats the purpose but spares their friendship from the top bunk / bottom bunk distinction. Swedish sleeping method iykyk

— Something something how many fine arts majors does it take to cook a stew. Shiyu volunteers to prep vegetables for dinner but opts out of cooking duty other than her own portion (#MyPescatarianTruth) and instead probably chills out somewhere and enjoys the scenery until dinner.

— Doesn't have a competitive bone in her body so she's bailing on trivia night! Available to hangout all Friday evening until late o'clock when she heads back.

SATURDAY.

— Doesn't go to camp yoga because she's very pretentious about that sort of thing, instead sleeps in during the morning and then goes to the lake with Jinyoung / @lxckystrike to people watch. If your muse is doing something hilarious in the water please report it 🫵

— Lunching with fellow department ditcher Lucas / @grimbound after her stop by the lake.

— Bare minimum participation chopping vegetables and then camping out somewhere away from the kitchen, you know the drill. Anyone else skimping on cooking duties please sit around and complain with her, or sneak a meal together!

— Drunken talent show is like actually her parade number. Fellow brave soul to perform the Tiktok cartwheel challenge to a live crowd?

— Social battery fully charged up. Assuming she doesn't break both arms doing shenanigans at the bonfire, Shiyu is free for the rest of the night before heading back to sleep!

SUNDAY.

— Kinda #dead but down to debrief before the bus ride home. Will be sleeping all the way and listening through SOPHIE's discography so.. Someone with a steady shoulder to sleep on?

MISC / IDEAS. (These are very lame I'm afraid but brain No working)

— Free badminton lesson for someone uninitiated? If they're nice about it she'll even (convincingly) throw a practice match and be like 'Omggg you're a natural'

— Down for some first meetings if our muses haven't interacted before! She's around and chatty as always.

— Maybe not thread worthy, but her beauty products are mostly vegan (#MyPescatarianTruth again) so she has plenty to offer for those in need. Free social points to go on the friendship record?

— Bulletin anon admirer face her!! Or let some faker step up and claim the honors idk. She loves attention what can I say

— She's not spending a night in any of the treehouses because there's definitely bugs there?! But she's down to hang out for a bit. Let her come crash your muse's Saturday or Sunday morning sleep in and giggle about things that happened at the bonfire and slash or trivia night?

[entropicue]

#DG:TASK02 __……–– WANG SHIYU Apple Account, iCloud+ and more.

Shiyu's Iphone 16 Pro, Screen Time Daily Average #h ##m

→ Most Used Applications

Youtube — Youtube Premium subscriber (derogatory) so she consumes a fair bit of her daily media through the platform, from podcasts to video essays while working on various crafts or walking around campus with her airpods in. Zero uploads.

TikTok @/wshiyu — Surprisingly not as active as one would imagine, but like the best of us she often falls victim to scrolling in bed or more generally in her downtime. Has a few chats open with friends where they send each other videos and responds good–naturedly to other messages but overall less of a social platform for her, more for showing off a good fit with some trending audio. Picks up a lot of memes from her fyp, but also some real news and upcoming designers.

Instagram @/shangwiyu — Old username, in too deep to change it now. She's uh very active! Posts to her feed about once or twice per week, usually collages with anywhere between 3–10 pictures and videos. Follower count somewhere in the low 4 figures, but she can only stand to follow back -/+ 400 accounts which makes for somewhat lopsided user experience and semi–frequent unfollowing sprees to keep numbers down. Split between photographers, celebrities, fashion creators and literally anyone she interacts with around campus or Seoul.

Out of those, she has around 100 people on her close friends stories at any given time which is kind of unhinged. Usually it goes like her wanting to show someone something she posted, them not seeing it among her normal story uploads, and instead of handing her phone over she just adds them to the close friends list and doesn't think much about it until they bring it up. Not the intended usage but she truly #Don'tCare. Expect everything from fabric innovation news reposts to a staggering number of group selfies and video stories from nights out. Exceedingly snoopy, also 🌀 Show her your close friends story 🌀 Reacts and comments to stories and posts frequently.. but then you send her a DM and don't hear back in a few days.

Spotify @/wshiyu — Has some notion that she's going to sort through and update her playlists one of these days. Maybe it'll happen? Mostly plays from queue.

Pinterest @/wshiyu — Doesn't post but has several private boards filled with sewing and crafting inspiration, fashion archives, and also a dedicated picture bank of Sik–k, Kiko Mizuhara, Ye Hao where she gets her lockscreen pictures. Rotates them on some ineffable schedule. All strictly #inspo of course..

Facebook / Shiyu Wang — For keeping in contact with friends overseas and occasional snooping. She uploads very sparsely, usually about school or travel.

Weather App — Still has every city she's ever lived in on there! Likes to check in when she's feeling either miserable or wants to gloat over Schengen temperatures.

Photos App — 19 000 objects and counting, so that iCloud subscription is really coming in clutch. Goes through cycles of disorder and organization. Somehow she always finds what she needs.

Assorted Messaging apps (iMessage, KakaoTalk, Whatsapp, Messenger, etc) — Has an unconscionable amount of unread messages across platforms. She doesn't put a lot of thought into texting etiquette and tends to respond whenever she has time, whether it be right away or next week. Frequent victim to multiple conversations over different apps with the same people.

Misc — Doesn't use Everytime as much as she probably should. Hinge and Tinder have both been neglected all summer. She has accounts on Rednote, Douyin, Weibo etc but hardly if ever uses them. Keeps up to date on her step count through the Health app and other wellness subscriptions.

[entropicue]

和你又一次相逢

[impulsetheories]

shiyu's relentless nature is much of her charm through dabin's eyes. he's smiling to himself now while he looks at the plastic containers and thinks about how she thinks of him. hard to determine, but every now and then the clouds part and it feels good. not questionable, not inconsistent - just good. "i guess it is pretty hard to stay up in arms," he suggests, taking on a teasing tone as he repeats her phrasing, "with challengers like you."

he doesn't ask her for her opinions as he sorts the rest of the containers. he'd noticed what she'd seemed to like and what she'd hardly touched; he acts accordingly, save for his own favorite that's already been moved out of the way. he takes two that they could both live without and gives her the rest.

"you can tell her if you want." his nonchalance betrays the slight anxiety that she might actually do it just to prove that she can. he couldn't say that he'd be surprised. "but don't expect her to take your side. i think she liked you, but i'm still her cherished son."

with the containers sorted, the act of putting hers in the fridge is pushed off. for now, he leans on the counter beside her, fully looking at her for the first time tonight. as always, she's pretty. he doesn't waste his breath complimenting her.

"thanks for coming to dinner. it was... nice." it isn't much, but it's something. more honest and direct than he can usually bring himself to be.

[entropicue]

She sits quietly to watch Dabin sort through their great haul of food containers to a lopsided end result in her favor. It's nice, if a little unexpected, though Shiyu briefly wonders if she's mistakenly given some indication to him or his mom that she's put out on ready meals. Probably unfair to question generosity when it stares back at you with wide eyes like that though. Instead she just smiles.

"My arm joke was better." She decides, heels of her flats clacking against the kitchen drawers— less inclined to put it to a family vote since he seems so confident. "Good try."

This mutual teasing eventually abates into something less, and she looks on down at him to see it build and then fizzle with an odd sense of relief. It was nice. Doesn't need to be more than that. Still she suspects they'll circle back tonight, tomorrow, as the goodwill stretches thin. Intuition nearly a year in the making.

"Yeah, of course." Shiyu supplies in reassurance, opting for once to be a good sport instead of arguing semantics of whether his thanks might put either of them in a debt of gratitude. But she wanted to go as much as she thinks he wanted her to, whatever tangle of reciprocity that all amounts to. "But you still owe me a few for all the times I've cooked." Unspecified number, somewhat unspecified currency.

Again, semantics to pad out conversation while he idles not quite at her side and she kicks her feet like they've got all the time in the world to exchange niceties. "And you promised to help jam something in my something—" Finger snap, lightbulb overhead moment. "Community fridge." A knowing glance between him and between the stack of side dishes between them, slow nod. "So helpful, and now I see where you get it from."

[goodbyejoon]

he feels as though he might regret mentioning it even in casual passing, to hear the word mom leave her mouth. on her pretty voice it's grating a bit, it feels dangerous. why did he chose to talk about things he didn't like? why does he do this to himself?

his gaze flicks to her, too rapid to leave an impression of his thoughts, but just enough to capture a blurry picture of her against the rainy window— he anticipates this going a direction he doesn't want to talk about.

but they ease into it, somewhat, and at first it's fine at least. clipped but not so treacherous. he even sighs out a single syllable laugh at her comment (seeing it in everything; he can guess she's looking at him because he can see it from his peripheral vision, but he doesn't meet it). it does take a bit of a turn, just like him with blinkers going on to merge them into another lane.

he blinks in the silence too, waits a breath or two to answer. "doesn't the rain put you in one of those moods?" he dodges the comment about his mother deftly but exceptionally pointedly, with a jabbing look of his own, quick before he turns back to the rain-flooded window to drive. "but sure, maybe i'm sentimental." not quite true but... there are layers, there is something in there.

"i could have drove right by, it's true; i'm not that usually that type of person though." that part is somewhat true, for better or worse, he never was one to leave well enough alone, not with things like this anyway.

[entropicue]

"Not whatever mood you're thinking." She dismisses in a short huff. Her capacity for introspection is temporarily reduced to the textural nightmare of wet jeans on leather seats, physical reality front of mind while shifting idly about.

Too used to riding in the back seats, attention spanning all the width of a phone screen, Shiyu tries to follow along his route through a look of puzzlement, gaze shifting between cars and traffic lights and particularly colorful fluorescent reflections. The city is prettier from the inside looking out, almost bearable.

"It could be from your choice of music." She eventually budges, leaning on her side against the passenger side door to look at him properly. Not quite antagonizing, but just as hard pressed to imagine he's not doing it on purpose. Too noir film cinematic. Or a slasher if the coin flips that way. "I think you need a new playlist."

A roundabout way of taking the out when Minjoon offers it. Later on she'll have some glib comment about mother dearest, but for the time being she'd rather not tread that particular path toward some uncertain but guaranteed to be mutually unpleasant end. Self–preservation if not common courtesy.

"Actually, give me your phone—" She motions an upturned palm, as though genuinely expecting it. No effort to reading the room slash car. "We're not going to sit around and cry to Mozart."

[dignitylies-deactivated20250924]

there is a routine he abides by, a set of ritualistic habits he leans on to not dive into the sabotaging temptation every artist harbors — on and off. lithe fingers pick up a 'project' for the first hour before an insistent itch crawls between skin and bone. it usually starts with his right foot, a decently constrained tap before it splinters and he is already picking up a new tool, new material, new everything. before he knows it, the sun is splayed on the neighboring buildings and a new deadline hovers above his shoulder. the only art he successfully engages with is the art of deliberate procrastination, concealed and primed with the illusion of productivity.

to combat this, he purposefully tries to go into the workroom at the busiest hour. uses the cacophony as a tangible obstacle that corners him. becomes a passive observer of his course mates, picking up their peculiar habits and shoving them into his pockets as if they are coins he will be able to wield at any given moment. a fake assurance they will buy into what seems to be genuine interest with depth.

while this penchant has been enough to stir conversations with relative ease, it is not bulletproof. juyeon doesn't know much about shiyu. most of his knowledge stems from forced osmosis — anecdotes from their mutual friend, affinity for opposite materials, an unspoken agreement of skipping the stiff korean language hierarchy. results, he wasn't right about everything. ( RE: the latter part ) some foreigners do care.

his quirked smile falters as he catches her 'sorry'. his long-winded ramble about ceramics and its complex difficulties hastily paused to give her space. a frown ripples on the planes of his face before a rush of confusion crashes on him like a high tide. ❛ i am , ❜ his aborted start is stalling enough to string a half-patched conclusion. ❛ well , i speak to her formally at times . ❜ as a foggy excuse to bother. ❛ but , mostly no . she would jokingly rip me a new one if I tried calling her noona . ❜

an unspoken ❛ you're not that much older ❜ rams itself against the back of his teeth.

[entropicue]

Shiyu hums, can't exactly imagine the friend responsible for putting them onto the same frequency with her metaphorical heel on Juyeon's jugular. Then again Reiko is also her junior, by however few months it takes to render Shiyu virtually immune from such unpleasant ramifications— solely on the invocation of Korean social code. Something like that. She just grins, expression too clearly at odds with the effort to project her voice, dropping it an octave.

"So you do." Latching on that passing mention of formality with a vice grip, her brain runs a mile a minute to translate every possible point of contention into Korean without coming off too combative. Nuance eludes her in more than one language. "Just not with me."

Which could mean anything, but she purposefully reads some unspoken slight into that confounded look on his face.

"Is it because I'm nice to you?" An accusation either which way. Shiyu knows she's nice, maybe just needs to hear him say it too. "Or did you think I wouldn't like it?" Immediate flinch at that, as if she just caught something foul in the air. Clearly sounds worse spoken aloud than it did a few seconds ago in her head. "Not like—" Mind churning to the sound of nails tapping a furious staccato along the end of the worktable, thinking, thinking. "Mind." She supplies finally in English, less conspicuous. "That I wouldn't mind it?"

[tramampoline]

[lxckystrike]

for as much shit he gives her, he wonders whether she might secretly be a genius. sadly not in any way that's productive or useful to society — just in the way she spits venom at him. whoever taught her the korean language must have only taught her combinations of words that only stung in worst way. namely ‘busted up knee.’ ‘miserable loser’ is tired; he hears and reads worse on the daily, living in locker rooms, being coached hard, and being on social media and such. and he agrees his major (or frankly anything related to the classroom) is ‘shitty’ so that doesn’t bother him much.

briefly, he wonders what her not-so-shitty major is. psychology? nah. maybe shamanism. voodooism. exorcism. if not at yeonhwa, then probably getting lessons out in the wild.

“well, that’s a cheap shot.” he remarks, with a gnarly side eye. you’d think she kicked him in the shins or something. “making fun of the surgically repaired,” he specifies, giving his knee a good rub. as if on command, all his joints and ligaments seem to hurt, and he shifts around in the seat a bit. a deep aching in the knees, back, neck, but most of all, his head. she’s making his head hurt a lot. worse than sun sickness, motion sickness, or any other ailment someone in his position could have right now.

he looks at her with narrowed eyes and starts to slowly shake his head at her. “but wow. i had no clue you were trying to be sympathetic. or helpful. i wonder why,” he fake ponders, sarcasm dripping at the lips. “well thank you. that changes everything. can’t believe i’m so blessed.” he puts his palms together and offers her a half-assed bow of his head. a theatric show of gratitude that he immediately negates with a crinkle of his nose, as if he’s bitten into something incredibly sour.

he could stop. should stop. but in his mental estimation and the scenery outside, there is still a little bit of time and goodwill to kill. just enough that he can throw out a few more dangerous statements before getting to scamper off out of the car and away from her.

“theoretically... if i let you get everything out of your system. you know, talk to me about 'it.' whatever silver bullet you think i need-- obviously not in here. not right now." he has to specify, god forbid she start spewing. "then would you leave me the fuck alone afterwards?"

[entropicue]

She feels strangely content in the aftermath, tensive release from the rapid unburdening of thoughts. Her own balance shifting back to equilibrium while Jinyoung continues winding up.

This last stretch of highway coming into Seoul is particularly uninspiring. High–rises looming over the horizon, lanes diverging aimlessly, signs listing off names of places that won't live longer in her mind than the few minutes until the next, and the next. She phases in and out of his grievances with glib recognition, only the slightest bit of weariness when they exchange ironic bows of gratitude.

The offer is unexpected. Not quite peace, but appeasement— whatever he needs to tell himself to make it bearable, speaking in theories. Shiyu cycles through a few different reactions before arriving with surprising restraint to her own conclusions.

"Huh, maybe." She sits up straighter in her seat, eases some of the excess seatbelt from her prior sprawl back over her shoulder, holds Jinyoung's scrutinizing gaze like she's only too comfortable openly toeing the line of truth. "But if I wasn't going to follow through, do you think I'd tell you?" Redirection doubling as a good and honest thought exercise, definitely not intended to mess with his perception.

"I can make time though. It's really up to you." Metaphorical ball back in his corner, or half side, or whatever his kind calls it. Shiyu simply smiles, unfettered by lack of specifics or guarantees. Easy sport, perfectly amiable to a less keen observer. "Are you a betting man? Theoretically?"

[selfmythologize]

yua would offer a caricature for nothing in return. she doesn't though, because she might actually need to cash in on shiyu's footwear revival service pretty soon - so she makes some soft noise of acknowledgement and tells herself she'll remember to bring it up another time, depending on how the circumstances at hand play out.

"those are my three old guys, just so you know," a truth disguised as a joke. "i really, really wanted to see them, but..." she trails off, waving her trash-picker around vaguely like it's some magic wand that could put a cloud-framed flashback in front of them. "a lot of, like, really inconvenient things happened one after another and i didn't get to make their set." it's still kind of a sore subject, but she's able to move on fairly quickly. the hesitant amusement of watching shiyu try to cope with the consequences of her actions helps, and the mention of... stargazing does the rest. she'd been there, alright, but she hadn't been gazing much at the stars.

she hums in careful consideration, like she doesn't know if she really has anything to share. she does, of course, but she has a habit of getting ahead of herself and she doesn't want to do that now.

"i did go." simple, but she's smiling smugly. an undeserved symbol of victory. she doesn't look at shiyu while she talks, she looks at the ground - tries in vain to pick up pieces of candy bar wrappers and the like with the grabber. "i had... a date? under the stars... so romantic." hardly. she can't say anything more, because, well, it really hadn't been a date and she hasn't heard from the guy this 'date' had been with since. either way, shiyu probably doesn't want to hear about it and she doesn't want to hold her hostage when she's already hungover.

she crouches to hand-pick the resistant pieces of plastic from the grass. "was epik high good? did you get any videos?"

[entropicue]

Shiyu unfurls slowly from her crouch, stands near upright but for a slight upward slope of the ground, bent at the hip. All obtuse angles.

It's a lot of news to take in at once. From romantic starlit evenings, to the more alarming realization that the ranks of Epik High supporters extends further into familiar territory.

"I have a video, but it's mostly of me and you can only kind of hear them talking in the background." She shrugs, watches Yua clawing through the grass for trash with tempered interest and makes a quiet commitment to join her in a minute or so. Just a breather. "I liked that hater song, though." Her own trash picker sticks limp out of her grasp, tip dug into a soft spot of earth, and Shiyu wriggles loose slowly, carefully.

"The one that goes like wow–" Blanking on further lyrics, she offers a few different iterations of that same hook before deciding to leave well enough alone. Wouldn't want to offend the home crowd. "Anyway."

And so she resumes her efforts, swiveling around from a fixed point. Small mercy that the litterer in question decided to scatter their wrappers within a meter–wide circumference. All the worse for the planet, but that's why they're here.

"Next time, you can go see Epik High, and I'll go on a romantic date with— well, whoever." She tries to sound flippant, and gets at least some of the way there. The vagueness and deliberate tone only stokes her interest. "So." Shiyu affixes Yua with an appraising look, lopsided smile, motions her on with the trash picker, a sharp but encouraging clack–clack echoing down the grass pitch from the claws coming together. "How was it?"

[prodbyzinnia]

she hasn't quite had enough alcohol in her system to be making bad decisions or anything yet—she's learned her limits from her first year, where she had spent many a night getting drunk—but there's a slight fuzz around her peripheral and she's giggling a lot, which are the telltale signs of it beginning. she's not planning to drink anymore though, considering she's already given out a handful of business cards.

a success, as she would call it.

"shark tank?" jiahn echoes, amused and she doesn't think she has anything quite innovative enough to warrant being on that show. it's a funny thought though, her appearing with something she had handmade and pitching it like it's the next biggest thing. "not quite what i had in mind, no."

shiyu's words do make her laugh though, because she hasn't really thought that far into her future. what would she do if something really took off? would she open a storefront? would she be able to? maybe she would open an online store or something, but not an actual one. not yet, at least.

"maybe an online store, if i'm able to get the ball going," she says, laughing a little. "i probably need to graduate first, before i think about that though!"

[entropicue]

With her systems patently not on the go, it takes Shiyu a moment to register the words through the background chatter and the music. Attention all but frayed on people moving in and out of her periphery, conversations echoing through the crowd, picking up disjointed exclamations between name drops. Potentially heading into a dip in energy and inebriation. That will have to be addressed at some point near in time.

"Graduate?" She repeats, eyes narrowed, expression slack with thoughts hopelessly churning. One part surprised Jiahn's never thought to bring it up, whatever it is that she apparently does besides selling her eclectic collection of trinkets around campus, and one lesser part wondering if she already did. "Oh, like—"

She shuffles in place, adjusts her weight from one leg to the other. Thanking her past sober self for electing to wear flats. Uncharacteristic, but wise.

"Like what, you go to school somewhere?" Shiyu asks, good–natured if a little dazed. Perhaps playing into it, foresight demanding some plausible deniability if this all turns out to be some giant fuck up slash confusion on her part. Still clutching a neglected drink in her left hand, index finger nail tapping an insistent rhythm against the glass.

[commedezgarconz]

"i dunno, i feel like if i'm going to partake in alcohol, i might as well go all in." explains her affinity for drinks as heinous as a ferrari, but... c'mon. it's too on-brand for her to possibly dislike. besides, it's not nearly as bad as shooting jäger, and she does that too— sometimes. give her a red bull to go with, and she'll be bouncing off the walls. horrible taste, truly. "but i can still appreciate something on a sweeter side." she winks at that, making a kissy face. a little playful flirting never hurt anyone!

she flashes shiyu a bright smile, leaning forwards to catch the door before it could shut behind her, crowding up behind the other woman unintentionally as she pauses in stride to check for traffic. "i don't think anyone would notice even if i started shouting right now." the floor's practically silent. imogen would be surprised if another living soul dared to show their face right now as they both pushed through the doorway and out into the hall.

it's almost eerie, actually, how quiet it is. she feels like she has to whisper-shout instead of speaking normally or she'll disrupt... something— whatever's going on in this kitchen of pure tranquility (it won't stay this peaceful for long). "do you borrow things from the fridge often?" imogen's never had really roommates, or suitemates, or whatever. the thought of looking forward to a snack all day just to come back home and have it be stolen is utterly heartbreaking. she snorts with laughter suddenly, "oh my god, did you ever sneak alcohol out of the bottles your parents had in the freezer and refill it with water so it looked like nothing was taken out of it?" eyes are lit up in pure amusement at the memory. "liam and ollie—" her brothers, "— did that once... well, a lot of times. so much that eventually there was enough water that it completely froze." clowns. both of them. "i seriously thought my mom was going to kill them. the look on their faces when they got caught was priceless though."

she's fully rummaging through the cabinets now, not paying any mind to how loud she's being. the brief moment of attempted whispering had fizzled out after she'd started giggling through her anecdote. "eugh, fireball? seriously?" rich coming from her. she pulls out the bottle nonetheless, giving it a little shake. "should we really torture ourselves tonight?" half-joking. if shiyu dared her to, she would— imogen was never one to back down from a challenge. "i don't see campari in here, either... so i guess you'll live to see another day." free hand disappears into the cabinet, only to pop back out with a bottle of tequila in tow. "i think we found our winnnerrrrr!"

[entropicue]

"I think we—" Shiyu pauses, corrects herself mid–thought. "I like to think we all have this understanding around here, you know? Spirit of sharing, all that."

Some more than others, she leaves unsaid, watching instead with great bemusement how Imogen all but turns the kitchen cabinet inside out. Bottles clinking, containers shoved aside. Some genius brave enough to leave their chips unattended.

"My mom is like, exclusively into wine, unfortunately." Shiyu laments, slowly closing up at her side, attention drawn by the Fireball. It's the first full sized bottle she's seen in Korea, if memory serves. Fair chance that it doesn't though. "I've definitely shown up to a house party with a half bottle of Lambrusco before. Don't ask me how that went." Knowing look over Imogen's shoulder as she declines to elaborate. Moving on.

If not a mindreader, Imogen is certainly some kind of wizard to conjure up all this serious liquor out of what Shiyu previously considered to be slim pickings. Or maybe they were intentionally hidden away where people figured she wouldn't think to look. Even scores on the board for her dorm mates.

"Tequila or Fireball." She muses, thoughtful, and with her voice raspy both from use and the lull in their pre–game, Imogen's dress to impress intermission taking precedence. "One of each, yeah? I can't do Tequila sober." Brief pause, eyes widening and narrowing. "This sober." Standards of measurement conveniently unspecified besides a pinch of her fingers in the air. "Just take both back to my room, I'll— I promise to put them back on the way out. No one will know." She cracks into laughter at that, ducks away from Imogen's side on a bending line to the fridge, swinging it open with enough force to rattle the condiment bottles lined up on the outer shelves.

"There's, uh, lemon juice for the tequila. If you're into that?" Grimacing as she looks back, stomach prematurely twisting into knots at the taste memory of the last tequila shot she can remember. Gross. "I can't believe no one here has limes. Or triple sec."