misinformed.

park hyungjin. KNOWN AS JAYDEN. twenty year old boy with adult problems.

[ghostnotthereanymore]

[fcxlyon-blog]

{ tag #fcxmagneto, answer honestly ! } A sealed envelope is slipped into your mail slot, printed neatly with your name on the front. With no indication of what the paper inside contains — flipped this way and that — there is no telling what lies inside, and opening it reveals nothing more than a question, “In one sentence, describe your feelings toward humans. Answer carefully, and deliver this letter to my door. — Magneto” — and the space below is blank. What will you say?

                                                           Park Hyungjin.

He almost snickers at his name, the sight of it uncommon enough to arouse amusement and curiosity. After all, the only times he’d seen it in print, trouble was soon to follow. His fingers tug and tear at the envelope without much care for its fate, but impatience withers away into curiosity when the simplicity of the stationery continues. Perhaps an invitation had been sent to him—by the school of course. Elegant schools usually did useless things like that. It only made sense.

As his hands finally fish out the paper, unfolding it to reveal the message, whatever explanations had gathered at the back of his mind soon die off in response to the printed request before him. His eyes glide over the words, not caring much for the details of the message but rather the core. Humans. His lips tug into something that would resemble a smile if hatred didn’t so plainly speckle it. It was one of those subjects that he had to shove under the rug along with politics and religion to avoid conflict. To not hurt anyone’s feelings. Sometimes he did it only to mimic a veil of sanity.

The impatience soon inundates his body again and, without the dam of discovery to hold it at bay, it dominates it. His limbs move in harsh, quick movements around his room as he looks for something he can use to write down the spiral of thoughts that float around in his mind. They come with consistent speed, clumping together, combining, breaking, and repelling until the cacophony of thoughts ceases when his fingers hold a pen. He takes a deep breath. In, out. Perhaps if the subject had been one that required more delicacy and finesse, Jayden would’ve filtered his words into a sentence that carried his message with grace. A subtlety to dampen the sting of the blow. But where was the dampening to my blow?

Sloppy and indignant marks soon splotch against the paper, violating the simplistic and tasteful design of the whole thing. First drafts are crossed out almost violently until, after three attempts, the irritation flees enough for him to write a coherent, legible thought. Pleased with his work, he stands, leaving to deliver his creation. 

Humans are literally the sole rea They need to stop their I think that humans need to lear

Humans are intolerant, selfish, and inferior beings that need to change before life sends them an unfriendly lesson.

[dokkyum-blog]

[fcxlyon-blog]

target practice. ( + seyong )

[fcxlaser-deactivated20140706]

Seyong honestly had no idea how he got into this situation. First off he was in class learning to control his laser beams, the next second he was outside about to use a guy as target practice. He had learnt slowly how to change the strength of his beams so he couldn’t hurt the guy, but it still worried Seyong. He was worried that the boy would not be fast enough, and that he would could easily kill the guy. He just had to concentrate really hard on the strength of the beams.

"Poodle? Seriously that’s going to be the safe word? Whatever you say man…" Sighing in annoyance, Seyon concentrated hard on his hand, lighting up his face with a blue tinge as his hands grew an aura, ready to shoot. Watching carefully, he took his aim with one hand and started to shoot at the boy.

[fcxlyon-blog]

His eyes have fallen to look at the way his toes curl into the grass, tangling with the greenery that compliments his pale skin well, when Seyong begins to shoot. Jayden's slow to look up when the glowing shot nears him, and in a rush of panic, his ability activates immediately. It's an interesting process to watch: the way the seconds start to drag until they come to an almost complete stop, and in the specific situation he finds himself in, Jayden admires the brilliant light that inches through the air with the goal to smite him in half. He can only afford a second of admiration before his knees fold and he's off, sprung into the air by his feet before they clash into the dirt again in a slippery landing. They skate against the plant, his fingers digging through the air for some sort of balance, but as soon as he thinks he's become an easy prey for Seyong, his limbs remember their grace and propel him forward, out of the laser's target zone. A multitude of colorful curses pass through his thoughts, spilling from his lips in occasional whispers tied together by an awry tone of fear. All he can hope for is that he's fast enough to dodge, or if bad luck came his way, to throw a loud, shouted 'poodle' as far as his limbs could manage. 

[fcxlyon-blog]

hella. ( + minah )

[fcxserene-deactivated20140802]

                             [ —— ]

         Stretching her arms in the air, a small yawn passed through her lips and a hand hovered to conceal the sight. Incessant taps on her shoulder and the question from the other caused her head to nod rather eagerly. “Of course, yes, yes. But can we take a five-minute break?” Her hand is raised beside her cheek, fingers extending outward. “I need to walk or stretch. I can feel my feet falling asleep, and I need a snack.” She laughed softly and hopped off the bed to take steps toward her desk. Drawers are pulled open as she rummaged around before finding the package of gummy bears and returning to the male’s side. “Want some?” She offered the bag while fingers pressed on the keys of the laptop and pulled open the next episode.

[fcxlyon-blog]

                   "Why you always got to be so weak, Min? But alright, I've had to go to the bathroom for like the past two episodes. No thanks; I don't eat baby snacks."

 His body and limbs fumble to pick him up and off the bed before they direct him outside of her dorm and into the quiet environment of the hall. He's quick on these trips even without his abilities thanks to the conditioning he tended to endure. As a child, he hated to miss whatever dumb cartoon show he was happening to watch which called for races against the quick, flashy commercials. It takes just a minute, perhaps a pair, for him to reappear at her door with his features contorted into a smug grin. "That has got to be a new record. Proud of myself," he announces while moving forward to let his body collapse forward and curl into the comfort of Minah's bed. His body twists and turns, maximizing whatever relaxing effect the cushioned surface enveloped his body with, and he ends up with his precariously long legs half hanging off the bed and his head neatly held by his knuckles, palms pressed against the sheets.

"I feel like you buy those gummy bears just to piss me off. Like you're at the store wondering, 'Wonder what snacks I'm gonna hella eat later on,' and then you choose some good ones but then you think to yourself," he pauses, a tad bit dramatically, as his eyebrows furrow together and his lips push outward in a pursing meant to mimic Minah's usual (cute) pout, "No, Jayden's coming over to watch shows. Got to choose shitty snacks so I don't have to share and..." Jayden's voice fades off into a thin buzz before it disappears completely, muffled by the pillow he finds himself talking in to. Although initially sour, he realizes what was meant to be a hilarious recounting of Minah's supposed daily schedule quickly turned into a bitter string of sentences without any comedic value whatsoever. He'd try again. Later.

A quiet groan builds at the base of his throat while his shoulders push together, leading a corporal symphony that soon leaves Jayden sitting with his legs crossed, hands in his lap, and his back curved into the naturally languid position it always took. "I swear though, I'm just waiting for the day that kid dies. He literally does nothing but cause trouble and be a rude shit," he spits out bitterly into the empty space across him as if the kid was there and alert to whatever glorious commentary Jayden had to voice. His nose wrinkles at the thought. "Next one up?" The question precedes the lifting of his hands, thin fingers outstretched to dig into her bag of fairly gross tasting sweets. They escape the plastic tomb carrying their prize of four gummy bears: two blue, one green, and one red. He tosses them into his mouth before he chews, rather annoyed, but as complacent as he could be. He needed the food after all, mainly to recover from the emotional ride the damn show had forced onto him. "These are nasty," he complains while the sweet aftertaste simmers in his mouth, forcing him to think of all the cavities they were forming. "Just put the next episode. I don't want to die before Ty."  

[dokkyum-blog]

[fcxlyon-blog]

target practice. ( + seyong )

“Okay! Now I just dodge whatever you throw at me!” he yells through cupped hands before they fall to his hips. With his lips pulled into a grin, rather cocky for someone who's about to be a human bullseye, Jayden stands triumphantly at the other end of the empty field. He’s not exactly sure how quickly the lasers are, nor how strong they could be, but the nearly arrogant confidence settled within him tells him they aren’t quick enough. His legs rub together which, in order to avoid any nasty burns, have been stripped except for the shorts that encircle his hips while his torso remains bare in parallel precaution. Before he can grow comfortable enough for languidness to seep into him, his hands lift up to project his voice again. “Just start whenever you want! Once you start shooting them, I’ll start running and won’t stop for a while! Safe word is poodle!” Once his fingers are resting against the smooth fabric of the only garment he’s wearing, his toes dig into the grass in preparation to run much faster than he’s ever done so. Moving was a challenge, but only the near death experience of having deadly blasts shot at him was enough motivation for him to practice and strengthen the different aspects of his abilities. His lungs expand as the fresh air invades his chest before they leave at a placid, relaxing pace.

Here goes nothing.

[fcxlyon-blog]

nostalgic. ( + hyeri )

”Yo, that girl is kind of cu—”

The word is cut off along with Jayden’s step in the food line. His fingers strengthen their hold on the plate he’s holding while his jaw slackens, allowing his lips to part in order to finish building the dumbfounded expression. His casual study of the girl a couple meters away soon becomes a thorough investigation of every aspect of her face, from the rounded eyes to the button nose she wore, even her endearing ears tugged on his attention until recognition was all there was. Bit by bit, as if his mind was a machine and each memory was queued up for loading, they return to him in bright memories. Slowly, her surroundings seem to melt away, the food in her hold fragmenting off into dust as she turns to look at him. She smiles and her whole face lights up—beautifully plain, simple. There wasn’t anything extravagant about her looks but there wasn’t any boring details either; she simply was, her regal looks were as casual as the look she was giving him—a look he thought he’d never see again.

His toes squirm together in his sneakers as she approaches, each step sending a minuscule static through his spine. Each inch of distance she pushes past brings another memory spiraling into his conscience. Some are of flighty kisses, others of the sparks they never bothered to explore, but the one that ends it is the goodbye: a short wave they’d exchanged at school before he graduated, and although the scene was simple, it almost topples him over when he remembers. How could he have forgotten? How could he have not gone looking for her?

Queries become meaningless when her lips begin to purse and move in soothing gestures, giving flight to the sounds that reach his ears:

”Jayden… Jayden… Jayden… Jayden move already!”

Her voice—the girl next to him—reels his mind back into present day, and the bustling scene of the dining room slams into place among his senses. Fuck. He can feel his cheeks hold a tepid temperature, a sure sign of visible embarrassment. With a muttered apology met with an angry response, Jayden returns to filling his plate up with food. Occasional glances shot in Hyeri’s direction inform him that she’s still in the same spot speaking to the same person—not even looking his way whatsoever. Daydreaming had gotten the better of him. Again, although this time there was something more than his friends’ joking around at stake. She could’ve caught him ogling her foolishly, and that wasn’t the first impression he wanted to make—not after those years without communication.

There isn’t much time to get ready, and he can’t change out of the harem pants he wishes he hadn’t put on or the loose t-shirt that covers his torso. A sigh precedes his walk over to her, better now before he could feel embarrassed again, which is composed of an awkward step that’s meant to be natural. He thinks to clear his throat along with however many cliche actions he can get through before reaching her, but his long legs cut the time short and he’s standing in front of her before he has anything to say. “Ay, uh,” he begins and never finishes. His lips become occupied with forming a smile: one loose enough to feign normalcy, but not so subtle to seem cold, though the requirements become too many to follow and he ends up with a boyish smirk filled with confidence he didn’t know he had. “Hyeri, fancy meeting you here.” He doesn’t think to add all the other lines that line up right after it that include: I missed you, you never called, and his personal favorite, you’re looking so good today. Instead he stares without the added intensity of before; instead of a focused effort, he begins to enjoy the close view he has of her—especially the way her hair seems to curl around her ears, reminding him of exactly why he’d been drawn to her in the first place.

She’s even cuter than before.

[fcxlyon-blog]

WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?

"I’m not sure—depends on what I’d be able to do there. I can’t choose a place to visit if I’m just going to go looking and not get involved with anything. But, if I could get involved—”

“—I think Japan would be my biggest wish. Tokyo specifically. I mean, they’ve got the food, the fashion, the movies—did I mention the food?! They even have those cool minihotels where it’s just a bed, but even their regular sized hotels look fancy as hell. But only if I could get a full tour by someone who knows all the hotspots and the good places to visit. Man, getting excited already. Runner up would be L.A. ‘cause damn, that place looks extremely fun.”

[fcxlyon-blog]

hella. ( + minah )

                    "No, that can't b—what the—why—"

Stuck in between shock and sorrow, Jayden is quick to slam his fist into the innocent fabric of the pillow between his legs. His teeth grit and his eyebrows furrow together while his lips are tightened into a thin line of frustration. Again. It happened again. The screen continues to flood his vision with scenes of a show that he could care less for--temporarily of course. [Character A]'s death, as unexpected and greatly undeserved as it was, would only deter his interest for a few minutes at the most. It was a curse he'd grown accustomed to: his habit of always rooting for the less important characters—also labeled as replaceable—had always thrown him into a pit of torment that required him to develop a mechanism to avoid anguish as his favorite fictional people died one after another. They were dominoes that were pushed down in a glorious (but short lived) wave meant only to amuse the viewer, as well as arouse whatever emotions they may hold. Jayden would've been fine with the occasional death, but it seemed like the more he grew to like a character, the closer he pushed it towards a premature death, while in contrast the characters he most despised were there every week without fail; staying alive and shitty.

"I fucking hate this show," he declares, arrogance sewn into each syllable that his lips produce. Perhaps it was true, he hated the show, but he still found himself settled into Minah's bed with his eyes stuck on the glowing screen. There were reasons of course, but he'd never let himself admit that the show—the stupid show had appealed to him in the slightest; that would be as equally horrid as accepting the melodrama that practically crawled out of the screen to violently push viewers into tears. No, he wouldn't be reduced to that level. "I'm literally only watching this show for—"

As if summoned, the show grants a view of a man sitting in a car while surrounded by the undead—seemingly sitting in his future coffin. Jayden's eyes widen to catch every detail and clue as to what the man's fate would be. His heart grows excited and his slim fingers tighten into another fist. It was an exemplary situation in which his ability becomes completely obsolete, after all there'd be no point in slowing down however long it took the man to choose between life and death; it'd only further provoke the eerie uneasiness that fiction managed to instill in Jayden. He falls victim to the suspense quite easily, not that he cared anymore—his newly declared favorite character of all time was on the brink of not appearing on the show anymore, but just as the thing began to have a hold on him, the man begins swinging and smashing heads aided only by brute force. "Fucking Tyrese—he's so raw and hardcore, man." Relief settles into his speeding heart once more. Survived another episode, he thinks to himself before his body turns and his fingers meet with Minah's shoulders in a couple of (annoying) taps.

                                                          "Next one?"

[fcxlyon-blog]

( thanks for all the welcomes y'all are really kind. uh--call me aaron. please come plot with me, i want to get to interacting right away ! i'm looking for some deep connections or something, and if that doesn't float your boat ( or plotting in general ) we can discuss some locations to start a random meeting script/para/novella/whatever you prefer. note: any plots are accepted within reason, really. even our muses staring at each other for hours, i'm down. okay, thank you, bye. -- aaron. )

[fcxlyon-blog]

blue memory.

[fcxlyon-blog]

Light as a feather, the man’s slow path into sleep was fragile and easily frightened, a mere flirtation with the wonders of dreams rather than a deep commitment to rest; his eyes droop, fighting the inevitable as he tried to maintain his eyelids parted, only for them to fall under the weight of exhaust. His dance with the sentiment, although greatly daft to any conscious person, busied his mind and muffled his senses enough for his lips to part, as well as to cover his ears with invisible filters that only allowed his rhythmic breathing to slide past the veil. A quiet echo could be heard in his nose, a parallel to his body’s functions and a premonition for snoring to come—although it would never be gifted with the opportunity to evolve into something greater.

The book clatters against the floor with a resonating clang, high enough in volume for the sound to drag S—- out of whatever connection he was having with a teasing slumber. His eyelids open violently, allowing the garish light of the apartment to sweep in uninterrupted—blinding him instantly. It isn’t until the other presence whines loudly that the taller understands what’s happening, and, after a couple more seconds accompanied by an appropriate amount of blinks, the plain sight of the interior fills his vision with the new addition as clear as day. “M—-,” he manages to mumble clumsily through lips that haven’t quite woken up yet, although even in a half aware state they still manage to form his usual grin, somewhere between sheepish and charming. Although at one point he’d planned the words he would speak upon their first interaction again, they all gather in his throat and clump together in an obstructive bundle that blocks whatever speech he could have formed. Silence becomes a presence between them, a barrier that although fortified on the outside, quickly burns and becomes futile under the quiet language that S—- manages to communicate: it begins with a glint in his eyes, warmed by the umber color it travels atop, and it continues to the impish quality of his smile—subtle, but enough to alter the message. The silent dance of symbols and looks, words unspoken and felt, ends in a glamorous movement of his hands, refined and collected albeit still carrying that boyish brusqueness that seemed inherent in everything they did. Although his body remains pliant and chiefly unmoving, his hands soon present the small, wrapped box in front of him in an offering as a tribute to the chemical past between them."Happy Birthday." The words leave his lips in softened symbols that threaten to dissipate like smoke into the air, but they surprise the universe by retaining enough firmness to fill the room—almost a whisper, but as powerful as a shout. 

"I missed you."

[come2noona]

안경? No 안경?? 안녕 ㅋㅋ...glasses, no glasses, byee??