REDEMPTION;

The road I walk is paved in gold To glorify my platinum soul. I'll buy my way to talk to God So he can live with what I'm not. I am the closest thing to god, so worship me and never stop.

[exmi-artemis-blog]

! dropping.

just letting you know that artemis is being dropped! ; ; his counterpart (girlfriend, soon to be wife) @exhongmi has dropped so really, i don’t want to keep him around. 

you all have been lovely and kind to have me here!

kind regards,

minki’s mun.

[exmi-artemis-blog]

money talks.

not all friendships are based on mutual ardor. 

the fact anyone could consider these two are friends is an amusing thought in itself. he had to laugh out of the sheer ludicrously of such a scenario that these two could mutually be deemed as anything other than ‘civil’ - even such a word was kept at a fair arms length. the two tolerated each other through passive smiles and pursed lips. no unnecessary words needed to be said, actions truly indicated all that needed to be said. 

money has no issue. all isn’t fair in love and war but when money is involved, a split fifty fifty finance is all that’s needed to be said. he supplies his escorts; mind you, artemis doesn’t supply cheap, over-drawn and excessively plastic men and women. his troops (as he patronisingly calls them) had been well informed on how much medicine to subtly place in their drinks so no sexual activity had to ensue or what the pinpoints on a participant that was a little too rough or handy for their liking. 

not that any of them remembered being drugged, it’s more-so the implied feeling of a ‘fun’ night they had when they wake up.

so the occupants are supplied to circulate in jin’s clubs. thus the hushed word of ‘assortments’ thriving in a well-established place allowed the game of cat and mouse to ensue. it created business for both people and neither had a word of complaint. 

to be honest, it was a fairly dirty trade. he didn’t care much (actually, he didn’t care at all) about the semantics or transactions of it all. artemis just found it utterly fascinating how they found an achilles heel to pin each other down - pardon the pun.

today was one of their monthly consulates to discuss their monthly income, flow of business and all of that measly paperwork that the two bind each other two.

“we have an issue.” he reclines back onto his seat, long legs crossing over each other. “word is that security is fluttering undercover. spd and black lotus..” monotone as always, his thumb flicked open the tab of his cigarette box. “--would do anything to expose this place wide open.” not that they’d let that happen; his ‘troops’ had a known alibi, false identities and it’s all deemed as a consenting date.

like fuck would he let a few people with a dubious moral high-ground ruin that.

control issues? check.

[exmi-artemis-blog]

unexpected.

[exhongmi]

Her schedule always changed. It was either day, or she was working the graveyard shift. 

Being a source of security online was something that couldn’t just be left alone for even a minute. For the sake of her lunch break that she felt she desperately needed, it was important that she handed off her assignments to those nearby. That was the importance of working in a team that was handling such an important field. But given that she was a slightly higher position than some, she was given slightly more important profiles that required more people.

But that was besides the point for Hong, now sitting in the café just a couple of blocks from her workplace and she couldn’t tell if she needed a smoke, or to just go home for the day. No need for a coffee, since it did raise the alertness in her mind, but didn’t do much to distract her from the worries of her job.

Her gaze rose to look at him with a blank expression at the word, chestnut irises hidden behind a pair of glasses, not at all paying attention to the cup that was being pulled from in front of her. Her thoughts were taking their time to collect, that she simply stared without realizing that she was in front of another person looking to take her cup away. Did she want a refill? Maybe. But would it do any good? His voice had a deep calm to it, as if it was the kind of voice you’d want to hear at a café while you’re taking a break. 

“I’m tired of working,” she told him. Tired of working on her fake appearance, tired of suppressing herself to show one side of herself instead of her entirety, tired of working for her relationship that seemed more long-distance than anything. Tired of working on this company that has its own way of protection and corruption to stay afloat.

[exmi-artemis-blog]

“oh dear.”

and just like that, his level of care had once again turned null. 

then the puppeteer must contain his strings, no? they shouldn’t get all tangled and torn, that truly would be a shame for his own fickle amusement he managed to tear them up. still, he had socially introduced himself into a conversation and being a bad patron to a loyal customer wouldn’t be something he much liked. his establishment was flawless. heavens forbid (or whatever metaphysical being lurked in the sky) that he dare taint his business because of his discontent. 

still, the act of inserting yourself into a crumbling mind had tickled the barebones of his fancy. why not? an example. take the lotus flower in your hand and crumble it. can you place the petals back in order? a long, arduous procedure. now employ the metaphor to a person. the feeling of breaking something that can’t be fixed had truly been an invigorating past time. if it took the long road then he’d ride it out until he received true satisfaction from a person breaking down.

“caramel latte.” he begins pouring into her cup through the musical chimes of the coffee machine. it’s warm, caffeinated scented salutations fluttered throughout the cafe. “it’s known to reduce stress and a low caffeine content with an undertone of camomille helps relax.” he turns around and places her new cup onto it’s allocated space, a bright smile on inquisitive lips. “on the house.” 

so he watched her. not in a way that would demand security being called in but as if a concerned friend had branched on her shoulders. not that he cares. a small pin prick of venom was all he needed. his voice was low enough so she could hear him, one hand moving the cloth to wipe the bar down. “your tone.. it’s more than just work, i assume.” he knows. 

line the bait.

“it’s easy to talk a stranger, you know?”

wait for it’s bite.

[exmi-artemis-blog]

unexpected.

the utter vitriol made him laugh.

it’s this social acceptance you have to obtain in order to be accepted a funny farce. a comedy of errors in many ways. children (and adults, it never changes only regresses with time) are the most evident with this. how masks come and go for them to blend in. has life turned into a cliche? wandering your way as a skewed puzzle piece before you finally fit into a place where you belonged.

he could just feel the bile rise into his throat.

alas, he had to tend to this people as it was his job. a naturally feigned smile grew with elegance during time and many hadn’t realised this was an initiation of his own distaste. he had a service to attend to and as the owner of the cafe, he has to put customer services before his own dignity. 

a bemused gaze casts across the room if anyone needs lackluster attendance but remaining behind the bar itself was something he preferred. the feeling of authority; he was there and they were behind him. he was propped up on a pedestal. something so minor, so mundane had enthralled him beyond belief. to know a certain about of sugar to caffeine ratio could disguise the taste of cough syrup had been a thrilling fact, but one he hadn’t engaged in for a while. 

red head. check. distracted? check. someone he could possibly talk to? check, check and check. there was something about feigning authenticity; an act, a facade, a charade that made him feel that people had been so fickle. he was not one to presume what they’d think of him but at the same time, he couldn’t care any less. 

he slid slowly over towards the female, a soft (yet tenacious) smile moved onto his lips. his voice was low, deep enough for her to hear the thrall in his voice that lurked deep into his chest. “distracted?” dark eye watched the ministrations in her face, how her lips moved and eyebrows pushed and pulled. how endearing. 

how fun to mess with.

long fingers dust across the table to grab the finished cup of coffee in front of her, his gaze never once leaving hers.

“a penny for your thoughts?”

a dollar to fucking ruin you.

[exmi-artemis-blog]

hi, everyone! thank you for being so kind and welcoming to artemis and myself. he’s always up for plotting via tumblr IMs and i’d love to plot with you all. 

just a few things:

he won’t be attending the ball (although it sounds pretty awesome imo) but he’ll be keeping watch from outside incase something goes wrong, so he’d be indirectly involved because he’s the ‘get away’ driver for vanguard.

artemis really doesn’t care half the time about sob stories or anything, so if he’s dry or a little placid, i’m sorry! he’s just a douche.

he suffers from histrionic personality disorder and i’d like it if people didn’t act like they could see through his facade unless we’ve plotted about it. half the fun about bad guys is that you don’t know they’re bad until the last moment.

if you’d like to plot, and i’d love to plot with you all-- just hit me up in ims? thank you!!

[koredelisipremses-deactivated20]