#punkrock

[freak-gongchan]

Stalking Mermaids || Gongchan & Sojung

This was not stalking. One could call his persistent analysis and advancement of evolutionary studies (all in the name of science) to be a nuisance, yes, he would acknowledge those allegations. But to be correlated to such an incriminating act? Hogwash, the opinions of the peanut gallery was complete and utter hogwash, and it was from the moment that mother in her forties scrutinized him for taking polaroid’s of the circus mermaid that he vowed to never cease his research of human-aquatic anatomy. Seriously, fuck middle-aged people and their inhibited, conceited pestilence. Just the mere thought of crow’s feet could make him nauseous for days.

Gongchan grimaced, his facial language inflicted when their faces arose in his memory, and through the arch of barren branches did he tread with a thousand horrors forsaken by the rear of his heel. Sojung, it was not the name of the woman that warranted his submission to insomnia and sores of graphite, and the woman of mythology herself would be as viable alive as she would be a cadaver awaiting the incision of a scalpel. It was her outré skeletal structure that commanded his knees to the ground, inflicted minor early onset arthritis into his hands and blackened his skin with purple stains. A noose around his throat was his gaunt appendages, and the nails pressed into the skin frowns, quelling a rising cough as he peered beyond the veil of the forest to the lake of clandestine swimming. His curiosity had been enraptured by a marine shape-shifter, fixated on the process that was transfiguring bones and flesh to resemble the tail of a tropical fish.

His limbs lowered, actions decelerated and breath tangled into his bronchi, with purpose removing his backpack and prudently walking forward. The dwellers of the Cirque Du Freak were all pariahs masquerading underneath a semblance of the paranormal, but truly they were theses of biology to be chronicled, and Sojung was the finest specimen pinned to red velvet. His shoes left prints in the sand, and although he could listen for the wavelength of her mind he kept the radio on mute. “Sojung? Don’t tell me that tonight you have decided to drown yourself or abandon the waves.” Gongchan called for her in the voice of the subdued, the sounds semi-somnolent. He searched for her on the shore and below the surface, a contemplation of body temperature and its regulation piquing his interest while he shoved his fists into the protective pockets of his coat, shielding himself from the ire of winter.

[freak-ophion-deactivated2014061]

After the Performance | Ophion and Gongchan

[freak-ophion-deactivated2014061]

Fingers twisting and picking at the fabric of his jeans as he stayed seated on the floor, using this time to observe how his snakes moved about. Watching how their bodies weaved and coiled as they continued to play, he was mesmerized by their movements. Ophion truly was infatuated with these creatures and he had been since a very young age; when he was younger he couldn’t comprehend how an animal with no limbs could move so quickly nor did it make sense to him that they could do so many things and move in such fashions a normal creature could not. Now even he could do a few things that were similar but nothing truly comparable to the reptiles, he found he had become double jointed after his “curse” took affect the male now able to bend his body just like a contortionist. He could use said ability to put on more of a show but he was uncomfortable with it still, he lacked confidence. Thinking to himself he knew his little friends had no such issue, a fair amount of his snakes could be considered arrogant, knowing they are what completes the show or that they can strike fear. He often wondered how he come to work with creatures that were so different from himself.

'You're thinking too hard aren't you? Is something the matter?' He had to blink a few times as he lifted his head to look for the voice before remembering it was inside his own head, he tried not to be but occasionally he was thrown off when his snakes spoke to him. He knew he could simply respond with his own thoughts but he always choose to speak directly, turning his attention to the largest of his snakes the mighty python Kaa who was now slithering out from a different crate than the rest had been in. The big guy had come along to help him collect people as they always loved to see the large snake coiled partially around him and it got their attention so they’d come watch the show. “I’m not thinking too hard, I’m simply thinking. I’m fine though,” his response came softly as he didn’t feel the need to speak loudly in fear someone outside the tent may hear. Kaa seemed to laugh – it wasn’t unusual for his snakes to laugh at him – and Ophion didn’t even try to respond and accepted the reaction. As the python slithered over he let his hand glide along the muscle that was the snake.

There was another difference, these snakes were so strong and he never had been nor would he ever be.

'You're strong,' Kaa commented only to receive a glare from the blonde who couldn’t bring himself to agree. Mouth opened to retort he stopped when his snakes all seemed to hesitate at the same time before continuing as though nothing had happened, based on how they act he knew there was most likely another person. So with his mouth once again closed he kept his eyes on the snakes up until he heard the person who he did not realize had been observing them speak. Turning his head so he could see the male Ophion was struck with confusion, he thought he recognized the male but he was unsure as he still hardly knew anyone in the circus. With how the other spoke he still wasn’t sure if he was performer or circus goer but he gave a smile before shifting and getting onto his feet, he stepped toward the dark haired male and dipped his head while accepting the tea.

“I suppose I should thank you, for both the drink and the compliment. As for the snakes they might coil around your ankle, but trust me they aren’t out to harm anyone without my say so.” Holding the drink in his hands he was pleased by the warmth it released and waited a moment before taking a short sip. As he did so the snakes gathered near his feet, Ella venturing closer to the stranger and nudging his shoe. “So, um…who might you be?” Ophion questioned with a tilt of the head. 

[freak-gongchan]

In the normal, functional society of paperwork and desk jobs an individual that engaged in conversations with themselves, and even more, claimed to hear voices, were deemed insane and encouraged to swallow anti-psychotics. Tritely, he was one of those individuals, and by no stretch of the imagination would it be possible for the young man transverse from him to be cursed with a fate of pills and coatings of blinding, maddening, white. Malformed into a mental record was Ophion’s sentence that had been seemingly disjointed from a plane of sanity, and he would have to remember it to appreciate the circus for what it was – a gimmick to get money, sure, but a gimmick which protected the world’s most fascinating anomalies from the vegetative masses that feared the unknown and sold their souls to a malevolent dogma.

But in fairness and honesty, he was one of the lost souls that did deserve to be shackled and fed the heaviest of medications, and Gongchan’s lips mimicked the curve of the quarter moon. He could stride with grace, step into personas and strip his visage of masks without identity crisis, and as such, his smile lost its tranquility, and shrunk into that of a curious scientist. The procedure of reading minds did not strain him in this state since he had not terribly abused his ability throughout the day, and he mostly coddled it back to strength to hear the whispers of Ophion’s brain matter. Documented was how the boy vaguely recognized him, but was without a name or knowledge on who, what, and why he was. It is an unfair balance, considering within time’s suspension he had categorized the boy’s insecurities, his bewilderment, along with a note on the bond he had between those coldblooded creatures.

Telepathy had all sorts of perks, but he could only begin to describe the tragety that was his inability to destroy the levees and pay homage to the trillions of memories hidden within the protective barrier of calcium, nevertheless, he could practice patience. “I’ll take your word for it. I think I can handle some friendly snake hugs. In fact, it would be an honor.” Gongchan replied, and the reverberations felt casual. Spoken was a degree of comfort that somewhat took him by surprise, and perhaps it was a side effect to ruining the life of an adulterer – which always brought to him a small rush of excitement. “Really though, don’t mention it. You deserve some recognition that’s not totally fleeting, so enjoy the tea.”

And the warmth of it – but he wouldn’t blabber and elucidate that he could make paintings out of human thoughts quite yet. He drank his own tea, or attempted to, but as if to mock him the venture resulted in searing his tongue, and he reeled backwards, wincing from the heat. “I think they might be trying to kill everyone with this, really, I bet it could melt ice caps.” Jesting, he eyed the cup suspiciously, not certain if the woman who served the beverages simply held a grudge against him or if the mistake was honest, regardless, his gaze shifted to Ophion, or rather, the scales that merged with human skin in a reptilian mosaic that blurred lines between beast and man.

“Gongchan is my name, and the nomad life is my game. We haven’t properly met before, but I’m a part of this little circus of the Midnight myself.” He explained, glancing down to the snake investigating his toe, and on a tug of interest he nudged the small mortal back, touching it gentle with the toe of his shoe. “I can be a bit all over the place, so I haven’t had the chance to say hi yet. But what can I say? I couldn’t put off being social forever.” To play off a good nature was practically rudimentary, Hell he could be a choir boy while selling blessings to the poor and the sick. He looked back to their famous snake charmer, again hypnotized by the emerald laid into the organic sediment, and he wished he could look closer so he could see the freckles of green that indubitably created constellations within a foreign universe. “I’m sorry…” Awareness rang within his ears; a minor alert to how most people considered staring to be rude, but still in a daze he studied the lamellae, and mumbled onwards. “Your scales are just very beautiful.” 

[freak-gongchan]

Gay Witchcraft || Gongchan & Leo

[freak-taekwoon]

It wasn’t usual for Leo to be eating alone - that’s not to say that he couldn’t eat alone, nor was it to say that he had a shadow. He didn’t he just spent most of his time with one person. He knew that probably wasn’t exactly healthy, he should have lots of friends or whatever but he struggled sometimes to relate. It was hard when you’re life revolved around the taking of oxygen. He knew it was stupid to be that concerned about things like that, maybe if he just let it be he could stay more in control of his power. 

He moved the risotto around on the plate, it was his favourite, but he was slow to eat it, his mind was going, he was thinking - not particularly deeply, just average things. He wondered more about the people that walked in and out, wondering what their powers were and wondering how they got here. He made up a story about a man that walked past - he recognised him as the siren, he made up a whole story about the boy living in the sea, singing to boats like the myths but then finding that he loved land more and trying to find a home and choosing the circus. This obviously was not the boy’s real story but it was nice to make up stories, it kept Leo’s mind off things such as the oxygen rate. 

Leo looked up when he heard someone say something to him. He eyed the boy who was the owner of the voice. He mumbled a hey back, eating another mouthful of the risotto. At the use of his full name Leo looked at the boy again. He forgot almost how his name sounded, he liked the way it sounded and it reminded him of home. The home he was too ashamed to go back to - although he knew his mom would accept him and was probably waiting for him to return. Leo smirked a little. “You want to play me at a game of chance?” 

"You are aware that the odds are in my favour?" Leo said smirking a little more, he wondered what this boys power was, did reckless gambling count? was that even a real thing, when in essence all gambling was reckless as one could never be certain of the outcome. "Ok, call, let’s do it." might as well take the boy up on the offer, the odds were in his favour and either way it would be fun.

[freak-gongchan]

It was elementary, humans apprehended arrogance when lady luck left ghastly kisses upon their cheeks, and the man across from him, thinking of his past home and gambling, was not the exception to the rule, not today anyways. As per tradition, a new filing cabinet was imagined within his cerebral archive, titled Taekwoon, the thief of oxygen, and as the man allowed his thoughts to wander Gongchan would arrange them in a cavalcade of organized information. He would have to make it habitual, to repeat the man’s given name until the nostalgia of a mother and ignominy would become ink permanently coiled within the fibers of his irises. The question of his hypothesis was if the man’s spine would shatter as he collected facts and emotions, or if tungsten would replace his vertebrae, and perhaps he won’t be here to find out.

He wore a smirk of his own, the immediate future was clear as day and the stars were in his favor. After this charade he would have an errand boy to fetch him coffee, and do his metaphorical taxes. “Oh, I’m aware. In fact, the probability of me guessing the third card is twenty two thousand one hundred to one. Even if I manage the first two, I would have to be the luckiest man alive, then again,” The rambling was put on hold for the sake of charming devilry, a transition in the tone of his voice from lighthearted to obscured, for he had stolen Oceanus’ voice, played the chords for the sake of self-interest. “That could be a title for anyone that shares a minute with you. Could I be wrong? No, I don’t think so.” The proceeding chuckle was fleeting, and it was the vanilla to return them to a game of low stakes, an almost childish affair whilst he smiled back the concealed knowledge. In another life, one without an addiction for what was juvenile and impermanent he would have made a brilliant politician.

“Taekwoon.” He made a point to use the man’s true name, and he would rearrange it, make it his own with each replication. Gongchan sought out eye contact, and acted as the surgeon studying electrical currents pulsating within his head. Simplicity at its finest, paired well with a shot of adrenaline – a rather rare phenomenon that only circulated when met with a new, interesting victim, and the soon-to-be minion could be paraphrased in a million ways, but boring would be a word omitted from his existence. However, he was also not the diamond or a quality batch of heroin, no; he was like the others. That was the rule of the world, there were no originals. “Okay, I got it.” Finally the charade of contemplation was forsaken, yet the mummer of hesitation was donned, just to extend the parlor trick until the trap was set, and with a guess of reluctance, he spoke the face of the first drawn card. “Is it the four of diamonds?”

[sandeol]

[freak-gongchan]

Hollow & Hallow Golden Hearts || Gongchan & Seohyun

To create a log of each personality arch type, action, object, and general happenstance that got underneath his skin might be impossible. He didn’t like anti-cat people, and he also didn’t care for street kids that attempt to convince him to play them at a game of Starcraft. Certainly such a list would constrict the world and suffocate each resident mercilessly. Then again, deep seeded rage was typically erased by bouts of apathy; nevertheless, the past few days had not been days of indifference. His scorn for wasted opportunity had controlled his footfalls, how he stalked the naïve heir of Midas and snatched each object she had accidently touched and therefore, transformed into gold.

Exquisite, expensive gold, the material humans would shatter their spines over and sacrifice than honor for. Tonight he sat in his side-show performance tent, wearing a pinstripe suit (Emporio Armani, no less) while lounging on one of her transmuted chairs from a previous performance. He could only try to ignore how uncomfortably rigid it was, and rested his hands on the reflective armrests. “But who would shape gold into a roll of toilet paper?” His current customer, an English tourist, asked whilst studding the eccentric ‘piece of modern art’ with wonder, and obvious suspicion, if her thoughts were enough to go by.

Seohyun, the princess of element 79 lacked vision, bless her soul, she had a mind of an angel but didn’t possess the butter to her bread – the cunning to make them all so rich that they’ll be able to legitimately purchase an island, turn it into a recognized country and build an amusement part on top of that for good measure. Such a waste, thankfully she had him to make ends meet.

“Really…I hope this is for real, imagine the reaction when I show Debbie that Yoshida’s money can buy even ridiculous sculptures like this. Gold! That will teach that racist whore to open her mouth..”

Gongchan tilted his head, the musings of the exploited circus misfit banished once he tapped into the consumer’s mind, a jolt of electricity springing from his neck when her thoughts rang within the amphitheater that was his skull. What a pleasant surprise, her ramblings finally arrived at the desire to peacock, and donning the smile of an honest salesman he reached into his briefcase and retrieved the paper to seal the deal.

“The artist longed to express the generation’s vanity and profligacy – here’s the certification of authenticity – but fell from grace due to a scandal of hypocrisy; cocaine addiction. Alas, the good die young, and this is one of the few pieces of his on the market.” He plucked a story from thin air, strumming her imagination like harp’s string, and handed her the bogus document, designed and forged himself. Victims didn’t care to check for legitimacy, they were simply satisfied by the thought of it. Consequently he spoke in circles and drowned them in fantasy, she was only lucky that she would be receiving real gold – and hey, half a million American dollars was a bargain for this amount.  Everyone was happy, well, almost everyone, but you can’t make an omelet without stealing 24 karat gold toilet paper.

[freak-gongchan]

Animal Planet Documentary || Gongchan & Suzy

Repeatedly, on a one-two-three-one-two-three pattern his appendages endlessly fiddled with the various buttons and settings of the maker of home movies; the glorious handheld video camera. The days of dates printed at the corner were long lost now that they had departed from the Bronze Age of bullshit and into the digital empire of bootleg pornography. Soon, at birth, their eyes would be replaced with orbs of software covered by a thin film transistor liquid crystal display, called Google(y) eyes for marketing purposes. Yes, babies would stare at white ceilings as LED lights of letters and numbers entertain their spongy minds into the night. Technology was amazing, and he saw the world through the lens and the monitor that depicted thermal heat through a handy function for potential ‘ghost hunting’.

Honestly he hadn’t decided if ghosts were real or not. According to a certain member of the circus their existence was an unquestionable fact, but who knows, the poor sap could just be schizophrenic or a really dedicated conman. Whatever, at least the guy had good looks going for him, since compelling physically attractive people was one of the better perks of the circus, and speaking of individuals with the estimated facial value of diamonds and pearls, Gongchan stopped in his tracks, immobilized as his stupidity arrived at full circle. “What the Hell am I doing wasting time?” The question was spoken aloud, but he didn’t actually need anyone to answer for him, and that was the thing with telepathy, people just couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves. Promptly after flipping off his fellow anatomical anatomy, who apparently questioned his sanity, he redirected his path to be set into a beeline towards a trusty tent tinted salmon that hosted the number one gal in the entire world.

Bae Suzy. What would he do without the little ray of sunshine? Quite literally, the girl could potential blind people and that was just one of the factoids that made her so irrefutably lovely. “Suzy, where art thou?” In English prose he called for her, promenading through the campground with a silver palm sized camera pendulous from his neck and his hands tucked securely in a coat dyed the color of nightmares. He had purposely, and quite fastidiously, forced his appearance to mimic sleep deprived movie directors, the tousled locks of hair sealing the deal. It’s also why he tried to keep a pen tucked behind his ear today, only to lose it when entering tent number fourteen.

Frowning, and subsequent to his imprudent invasion of what was supposed to be a personal living space, he retrieved his pen and furthermore, readied it for fire. The young woman was in sight, ignorant to the dangers lurking within the corners of their world, where friends were foes, and trust was a fable told by village elders to guarantee that someone would take care of them when they became gross and senile. And like a villain, he spoke in a cryptic goodbye. “Prepare to die, Starshine.” Using his hands as a weapon of mass destruction, or rather as catapult for pens, he flicked the capsule of ink forwards and watched as it soared in Suzy’s direction. But he was betrayed, and when it slapped against the tent wall he groaned for another effort made so futile that they might as well hire a gang of clowns to laugh at his ultimate failure.

[believeinyourself09]

[alyssatw-deactivated20210430]

[freak-narae]

Surprise, Bitch || Gongchan + Narae

In the short week that Narae had been at the circus, she hadn’t really bothered asking about the hows or whys of other freaks being there. She was wise enough to the world to realize that not everyone had a home to go back to like she technically did, or even had people that would miss them. Somehow she could largely sense the tragedy that emanated from nearly every member of their little freak show, but she felt no desire to follow up on that instinct, to ponder what about them had been set so askew. It could be interesting, but she couldn’t see a conversation about the past going well –people just loved to pity themselves a bit too much, and it rather annoyed her.

She wasn’t like them; though that was obvious enough from the façade she acted out every day, white cane tapping along the pathways like a metronome. Even in a place where the different were supposed to have a safe haven, she couldn’t bring herself to permanently pocket her glasses, due to the unstable nature of her mind and her power. It wouldn’t do to have the annoying bitch two tents down know how her snoring made Narae think she was choking on a tuba’s dick half the time –and not to mention that any freak children wandering around shouldn’t see such an image, all things considered. Yeah; even here, she knew she had to be careful if she was going to stick around.

Now she hadn’t settled completely into the mindset of staying long term –that depended on if the rumors she had heard back in Tokyo were true or not.

Narae wasn’t here for sanctuary, or work, or just a place where her extremely obvious power could flourish. With how physically handicapping her own was, she was certain most people would pin the latter answer onto her, but that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, no one really asked the right questions, and she doubted anyone would to figure out why the Korean girl joined the Midnight Circus in Japan, a place where she didn’t even speak the language. No one asked, she didn’t care to tell. But, other than to get back to South Korea for free, she had recently heard stories about a telepath.

That had completely floored her, when she heard Gongchan had potentially joined such a public thing, but it also didn’t surprise her in the slightest. All of those minds ripe for the picking, all of those people to mess with…in reality it sounded exactly like the man she had gotten to know back home.

Anger boiled up in her just from thinking about him, and the sincere hope that she would find him drove her forward that night. It was before any shows, her body having finally adapted enough to the nocturnal schedule to wake her up at a decent hour, thus she finally decided to start asking around about the dumbass giant with the ability to read minds, her glasses firmly on the bridge of her nose to hide the images she’d likely project of her throttling him. Thankfully it didn’t take her long to find someone who knew of him, but they were unaware which tent he was in. They also told her where he performed, but witnesses were the last thing she needed when she’d find him.

Continuing to look, she eventually found someone who told her that they’d just come from the dining tent, and a certain someone was currently over that way. Thanking them eagerly, her lips curled up into a cruel smile as she began picturing just how rewarding their reunion would be.

Starting toward the tent, she made sure to take deep breaths, to try to calm her murderous thoughts. It would be just her luck to scream out her intentions and give him the time to properly prepare for her. Oh no; if she could manage to keep her mind meek and uninteresting, she had no doubt of surprising him, even if her notion was actually incredibly wrong. That was probably her downfall way back when as well –Narae had always been a bit too wrapped up in her own active imagination. She was ripe for the manipulating for someone like Gongchan, though she would never admit to anyone just how well he had fooled her.

Feeling the intensity of her scowl again, she chided herself for her lack of fortitude, and started thinking about puppies. Cute, squishy little animals, taking them for walks…. Granted it didn’t seem to work well, but it kept her busy mind occupied until she reached the tent. Anticipation clutching hard at her heart when she let it, and she reached up to remove her glasses, pocket them, before then pushing the entrance flap aside to go in.

Narae realized at the last minute she should have given her eyes some time to adjust, but there was no helping that now, her gaze raking through the tent like a search light, the manic glint only aided by the sharply glowing colors of her irises. But when she saw him, her body acted of its own accord, it finding the position she had been taught in her fencing classes, as she threateningly pointed her stick at him. “Found you, bitch.” She proclaimed sweetly. “Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.” Then she quickly drew her arm back to smack him hard upside the head with her cane. The blonde girl had taken a few kendo classes as well in Japan. Couldn’t go getting out of shape now –moments like these would be so less satisfying.

[freak-gongchan]

Do you see their joviality? Drenched in despair the victims tremble with a heretic’s laugh in the face of the apocalypse. How dare they disregard the decomposition, ignore the blisters upon their hands…

The intangible sermon continued tirelessly, the words a helix into the universe and oblivion, the black hole’s voice echoing within his ear canals as if his cranium had been eroded into Greece’s chapel of psychosis. His body reacted sporadically, the muscles coiling, quirking at the rhythmic respiration, and his fingers curled, tempted to breach the contract and rip each trace of organic tissue from the duel holes at either side of his head. Opposed to self-destruction, Gongchan expressed discontent through a crinkled brow, the face of indignation, bowed to the rice cooker owned by none other than the Midnight Circus.

Will you not deliver just punishment? Act as the executioner, sever the heads of the ungrateful and serve them upon blessed silver.

Why must the corrupted pope dig his cane into his heels? Was he destined to be bled dry for the sake of sinners? The crimson would leak from his gullet, pool into the porcelain basin, and demons would soak, baptized in bathtubs of his blood. His palms met the curves of the metallic surface, his skin atomized and the molecules cavorting with heat, burning the flesh into a hue of cherry red. “What are you blabbering about?” His voice is concurrent with the steam, evaporating into the atmosphere; it vanishes far beyond his reach. The rice cooker refuses to answer with mercy. Instead the sphere vibrates, humming to trivialize him. “Why would I do such a thing…silly…murder is. Ridiculous, It is completely mad…imagine the mess.” The whispered rambling is reminiscent of Chanshik, the youth, tiny toes and smaller fingers, observing the drunkards as they chortle anguish into the twilight moor.

And she, being before instructed of her mother, said, “Give me here John the Baptist's head on a platter.”

“Found you, bitch.”

Bewildered, the corners of his mouth were pulled towards the Earth, the sounds clashing, water and oil, and dismantling one another in a tempest unseen. Who had spoken, if not the rice cooker? The man’s head followed suit behind his frown, ruled by gravity and inclined to the surface of tarp and dirt. Then, as he began to consider the hundreds of rice within the metal chamber, the feminine apparition returned with acidic chords, and the notes are like a memory, distant and veiled with haze. This could not be an object, whose vocal cords were plastic and artificial, no, there was an intruder within the space, and delayed Gongchan looked over to the side, was greeted by reds and blacks clouding his vision and a slayed equilibrium.

“What the fuck!?” No longer restrained to a specter’s murmur he cursed with confusion and a mild dose of fury as insects invaded his brain, buzzing and replacing the noise of bursting oil and refrigerator electricity with horrid white noise. He stumbled backwards, hands flying upwards to his damaged head – extra damaged now, thank God (if God was himself) that he didn’t have to worry about crippling hospital bills. “Jesus Hell…” Massaging his temples a groan rippled through his throat, and livened with a chemical swashing in the rivers of his brain he discovered balance, standing on two feet with a wild, livid expression; widened eyes and a crooked snarl. He searched for the villain responsible for such immaturity, and instead of Satan, he found Venus, saccharine vengeance captured in her eyes as she stood with foxfire draped over her shoulders like an antique fur coat.

Well, metaphorically of course. “Narae,” With demon’s rhetoric he managed to compose herself, speak to the abandoned women with a new countenance, his lips transformed into a smirk, the essence of the smug and bold printed on the expression without a hint of strain. “Babe, it’s a small world, I was counting on seeing you again just…well, not so soon.” If he had a cigarette he’d exhale the carcinogens in her face, tailor the scene to mimic egotistical movies about mobsters and their esoteric affairs. “I’m sort of surprised you got in with the out crowd so quickly, and,” Gongchan paused, shifting his gaze to one of the pockets of his jeans. He definitely didn’t have an erection right now, so that shape could only mean one thing. “Hang on a tic.” If their stories were going to collide in strife, he might as well bring it to top tier of dramatic cliché.

Fishing the carton of tobacco cylinders he focused his attention away from his ‘long lost lover’ and onto lighting one of the cigarettes with the nearby completely portable gas stove, really, it was incredible how resourceful this little campground of mutant freaks could be. Now, setting the box of pink Black Devil’s down, the dark spots in his eyes flew up, watching the woman and mapping out her body language, the familiar markings, traces of bones and winter on her form with a long inhale, the rose smoke expanding, satisfying his lungs. Now, if only he could banish the ringing from his skull – Christ, did he have a concussion? “If you hit me outside the bedroom again I’ll show you what Hell really looks like. By the way, did you cut your hair?” The words were liquor and ash, emitting from his mouth in a steady stream of white pollution as he walked forward, exhaling smog in dragon’s breath, just like in good old fashioned Tom and Jerry.

[freak-ophion-deactivated2014061]

After the Performance | Ophion and Gongchan

He might have been shaking a little but that didn’t really matter, he finished up his performance one he’d only done a few times so far. The response from the crowd amazed him and he was excited that things were going well. Now the people were filing out of the tent as he took his time caring for his snakes and making sure his best little performer Ella was alright. In his act he had to catch three of his little performers the first two by hand the last using his mouth, the act was well rehearsed and he had never once made a mistake. Still every time he finished his attention went to Ella, he would check her scales while the snake, who he had a mink like with, would reassure him that she was alright. Pleased to find that it was true and her currently dulled scales were unmarked he picked up a bow he’d brought with his and pulled out a live mouse to feed her.

Tucking her away along with the others Ophion took a moment to stretch before he made sure the tent was cleaned up. Being by himself aside from the snakes he felt comfortable and removed the button down he’d picked for preforming that day, leaving himself in a far more comfortable wifebeater he took a second to rub his arms hating how when he wore long sleeved shirts they would get caught on the patches of scales on his arms.

He was a bit tired but not exactly sleepy, now that the fun part of his evening was over the male had no idea what he wanted to do. He could simply hide away in his tent and play with all his little reptiles, or try to find more people to befriend. Today he didn’t know which he preferred so he was left to let whatever ended up happening between getting from his performance tent to his tent where he stayed. In other words he was expecting a night of possibly being bitten by a sassy snake and being loved by others.

Walking back over to the crates he went to pick one up before he noticed a little green stowaway slither out of the crate and across the room. Baffled he watched as the creature seemed to be teasing him acting as though it was some big python when in reality the snake was only two feet long and as thick around as a bottle cap. “Teth, come on get over here.” he whined before trying to catch the snake in a failed movement as the speedy reptile moved away from where he attempted to grasp. Here he was now, a snake tamer unable to keep one little snake under control.

Eventually Ophion gave up and ended up sitting cross legged in the middle of the tent and could only watch at the snake slithered around him, he was joined by the snakes who had decided to crawl out of the crates as well. It was an amusing sight as it was obvious the snakes were trying to cause him trouble, anyone who might see such a display would not picture Ophion as someone who was know to control these creatures.

[freak-gongchan]

Upon joining the circus a month prior to the current date Gongchan had declared an absolute fact; the Midnight Circus would never, not for a moment, be monotonous, not as long biological anomalies continued to hand their souls over to their quiet ringleader. Whenever he wasn’t entertaining attendees that had managed to be blessed with the opportunity to dehumanize these mutants with laughter and revulsion, he slipped into the crowds and began a series of research endeavors, to analyze atypical anatomy and sixth sense abilities that no sane person could define in five hundred words or less. Tonight he was faceless, an anonymous member of a nefarious audience, his eyes crystal balls and frontal lobe tessellated by their criticisms, disgust, and awe for a reptilian aberration.

Humans were fundamentally burdened by flaw and predictability, and the reverberations of their emotions song a familiar tune against the curves of his skull. He watched, lips drawn into a thin line, the boy named Ophion as he performed dances with snakes, or rather, pursued the apparent vicious beasts and captured them one by one. Those around him exhaled in shocked gasps, and Chanshik cast them away, severed the phone lines for the purpose of focus. The universe had never asked to be dismembered with scientific hypothesis or with an equation named Friedmann, however he had no interested in maintaining apathy to the mysteries of the world and what would baffle men and women with a degree evolutionary biology. A human without tricks, but a connection to the cold blooded - he observed, jotting down invisible notes, tucking them away in the folders of his mind, the body language and synchronized actions of animal and man.

As a nobody he had stood and filed out when the show was at its end, stretched his arms towards the heavens and breathed in the evening’s mist. The customers emptied their wallets, they spat coin onto the ground in exchange for the spectacles around them. For several minutes he wandered, smiled at a woman who served drinks to the attendees, purchased two styrofoam cups of black tea with the money a man had given him as leverage to keep his filthy mouth shut and not tell his wife about his second family in Osaka.

He accepted the money but not the bribe, watched the woman slap her fury into the adulterer’s wrinkled face.

But he was neither a good samaritan or an anti-hero driven by a sense of justice. He had fanned the fires then, and now returned to the snake charmer’s tent out of compelling curiosity. Gongchan uttered not a word as he invaded the space, emerging from the curtains of the downsized circus tent and into the artificial light. Prudently, he approached the svelte young man of blond hair, sitting on the floor as serpents twisted, slithering in circular motions around him. For a moment he did nothing, remained inanimate in his study, trailed his pupils up the boy’s arm in a marvel for the scales blending with human flesh, clutching the cups and feeling the warmth against his palms.

“Hey kid.” He spoke up, disregarding his youth and what age difference they must have, and took a step forward, not concerned for the loose reptiles - if they got too close he’d punt them. Besides, peering into the man’s mind revealed no fear, and without danger, he continued on. “Holy shit…” And yet, he eyed the animals in false suspicion, and then his visage transformed into a smirk, the daze of new information lingering and shifting his expression. “Your show was incredible, I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like it before. I bought you some hot tea - or are you a bit tied up at the moment? They won't try to kill me, right?” Offering the drink he held it up for a moment, a gesture of goodwill and a ploy to get closer. The corners of his mouth lifted again, but he kept safe distance because really, he didn’t want to have to kick any of those snakes in the face.

[freak-gongchan]

Gay Witchcraft || Gongchan & Leo

By some miracle he managed to stroll into the kitchen tent, mostly awake, before noon. Currently, sleep didn’t capture him and he had no trouble waking up at this hour, but he just couldn’t adjust to it, how the morning people taunted him. Well, the whispers from their minds did, specifically those of the cooking crew, and his visage switched from intrigue to annoyance in a matter of seconds. “Definitely not…” Mumbling to himself, Gongchan rubbed his temples – no, no he didn’t care for their prosaic whining – and he tugged his beanie further down his head, the psychological correlation of covering ones ears equating to silence helping him shut the disembodied grumbling out.

“I’d rather gurgle sulfuric acid.” He couldn’t trust anyone in this clown town to provide him with a breakfast high in antioxidants without bitching about it, and he was definitely too tired to block out their obnoxious musing. Right, he needed a lazy fix, and fished out a package of playing cards, grateful that his perfect victim had the misfortune of choosing now to be in the vicinity – a newbie that seemed to have a thing for brooding and convincing the less clever that he was mute. Then again, other people couldn’t read his mind, and if he was a sucker for anything, it’d be nativity and danger, and an impressive body but hey, sue him. While you’re at it, you can also sue him for intruding on what must be an absolutely pleasant morning for the young man, for Gongchan sauntered over to the table of one and sat across from, according to other people, the ‘potential serial killer’.

“Hey,” If only he could act as chipper as he felt, but the night clung onto him and damaged what could have been a suave greeting into a half-yawn. “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.” Not bothering to wait for a response he slapped the deck of cards in front of Taekwoon – wait, or did he prefer to be called Leo? For a moment the telepath paused, and as one of those pesky opportunities emerged one of the corners of his mouth rose.

“Taekwoon, I bet you’re already done with eating like a chump, so why don’t you make a deal with me? If I can’t correctly guess three cards that you draw, in a row, then I will treat you to dinner at wherever you’d like.” Gongchan explained, and the smirk transformed into somewhat of a smile, hoping to conceal what was merely deception – after all, he literally couldn’t lose. “But if I win, and do guess the faces of each card, you’ll be my lackey for the day. So,” Here it is; the infamous dramatic suspension of building tensions, wasting time. Leisurely, he leaned forward, and to seal the deal, winked, an evil existing within the apertures of his eyes. “Are you feeling lucky?”

[freak-gongchan]

Destroy IKEA & Become Almost Famous || Gongchan & Baekhyun

He would begin the scene with a formulated monologue describing the horrors of Swedish furnishings with superfluous hand gestures to emphasize the barbarities of Scandinavian Vikings, not to mention their ludicrous prices for the precious science ovens known as microwaves. Standing underneath a sky dressed in a mid-afternoon haze, the smog of factories mingling among winter stratocumulus clouds, the young man turned on his heel to face a companion he could only describe as foolish – ignorant even, to the point where Gongchan would not even entertain the notion of putting forth the effort to read his mind. “Baekhyun,” He began the speech, his arms outspread, reaching for the horizons to present the modern castle of Ingvar the Far-Travelled.

“The list of facts missing from human knowledge extends to a shameful length of infinity; the ocean of our planet remains an enigma and accomplished geniuses cannot answer the question of ‘why do we sleep when the very function is contradictory’!” Vexation, naturally, waltzed into the introductory of human infamy, leaving the muscles around his maxilla taut. Jaw ridged, Gongchan lowered his arms, just recognizing the ridiculous appearance of such a pose; he’d have to remember not to do that again. “Why do we not act as lemmings and sacrifice ourselves to the will of the universe? More importantly,” The pause must be dramatic, his index finger and thumb pinching the air, and his pupils oscillated, suspicious of the wandering consumers singing of their woes and triumphs, mentally of course.

『どけ、このやろう！』

“What…” The rhythm was lost, burnt at the stake and left for dead. His brow furrowed, a mountain of wrinkles springing in the valley between right eye and left eye, all become of a woman’s voice invading his cerebral personal-space. Japan, it’s a world of endless opportunity for marvel and hijinks, and unfortunately, his language skills were elementary. “Goddammit, it’s all ruined.” Groaning in half-hearted misery he hid his face within his palms, muttering English curses underneath his breath. “I should have spent freshmen year becoming proficient in katakana rather than downloading Coptic Egyptian into my brain…” As it turns out, dead languages weren’t so viable when applied to telepathy, and he concluded the minor grieving for his discourse with a sigh, the deed has been done.

At least with this fate they could continue on with the plan post haste, and spawn chaos to make Eris lament for his ineptitude. “Mister Bacon,” Regaining confidence, Gongchan cleared his throat and began walking towards the building, his hands disappearing into his coat pockets, numb from the cold. How long have they been standing in the parking lot again? “Life is too short to waste it kicking it with those nerds at back the circus, so let’s go play extreme hide and seek.” Resolving the massacred oration, the grin of mischief found a home on his face. IKEA would never be the same, and he would make sure of it.

[yongheemin]