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Kwon Jiyong G-DRAGON tent #8 ✗ room #240 AU / 18+ Tracked: freakjiyong I am a bear who can do many tricks, I am a fox who can be very slick.

[freak-yongguk]

Traces || Jiyong x Yongguk

It was about ten in the morning – for most of the circus members time to go to bed or to be asleep already, after a night of performances anyway so they could regain their energy. But Yongguk was still wandering, even though performances were long over.

He didn’t feel tired yet – just like a few more people who he passed on his way through the grounds, but he didn’t bother them much. His ability wasn’t physically or psychically draining him, and there was more than enough time to still get a proper amount of sleep even when he went to bed later. He just really enjoyed the morning sun.

He often heard that it was weird for someone who was able to create and take the lead over darkness having a preference in sunlight. Especially because he was able to see in the dark as well, but needed glasses when it was bright.

But still, despite his ability, Yongguk leaned more toward daytime – on sunny days at least. Although he wasn’t that sure anymore, was it because of his old habits or because he was attracted to the opposite of what he himself represented? He had accepted his ability for the most part, so the latter seemed a bit ridiculous. But the subconscious mind was a bitch as well. Who knew.

Yongguk adjusted his glasses a little, blinking as suddenly a man stumbling toward the tents caught his attention and he stopped in his tracks to identify if it was a stranger or not. Was he drunk?

It didn’t even take him too long to figure out that he was a circus member; he had met him quite often after performances, passed his way, but they had never talked before besides exchanging brief greetings.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, out of curiosity and maybe also slight worry whether the man would crash into a tree within the next minute or not, watching for a little longer before taking the initiative to approach him because… the poor dude seemed a bit lost actually. Had he been out like this by himself?

“Are you okay?” he asked, from the distance he was standing now clearly smelling the alcohol from the other’s breath and he scrunched his nose for a split second. Yeah, that guy definitely was drunk… and probably not okay either. “Or do you need help?”

[freak-jiyong]

Where was he going?

He knew a few seconds ago, or he swore he did. The world was spinning again, just the way he liked it, although he didn't count on moving until he heard the sounds of movement from somewhere outside the circus. He forgot that the world still spun on a schedule sometimes, that the people who were blessed with a taste of normalcy can roam in the daytime, and he cannot be seen. No, he would be taken into some kind of institution for his differences, and that would be the end of these bottles. Maybe he deserved to live like that: trapped, constantly.

He was dragging his feet across the dirt, the sun blinding his vision along with the blur from his drunken haze. He didn't count on anyone being awake, because no one ever was, and even if a person passed him, no one cared enough to stop and check to see if he was okay. It made him think that, generally, he did look okay. That his head was turned up just the right way, his eyes were open and lively, and his lips were always tilted in a smile. But that wasn't true at all - Dara taught him that. The reality made him a little sad, considering he liked thinking he was, for a lack of better words, a "pretty drunk".

Dara taught him a lot of things, and even mentioned how much of a mess he was - many times. He took it into consideration, sure, but after being without it for barely a few days, he couldn't handle the pain anymore. He relapsed, of course, which lead him to where he was now. Confused, unconvincing, and completely out of his mind.

Luck didn't seem to follow Jiyong on this circus night, because instead of uncaring and ignorant glances, he got the rare good Samaritan to approach him. His glazed over eyes just barely focused on the man, his brows tilting down in annoyance. Didn't this guy see he was busy? Yeah, busy, standing and... walking, kind of. "You paid for my performance, not to ask me questions," he said through his teeth. It was morning time, what the hell was a guest doing around here now? Were these the performance tents or the private tents? All the colors looked the same to him. "A magician never reveals his secrets... all that crap... go home... Jesus..." he held his head with his palm, stumbling backward a bit. "Fuck," he grimaced, dropping his hand to his side.

[avvazeballs-deactivated20151225]

[freak-sandara]

Vices || Sandara x Jiyong

[freak-sandara]

Dara had managed to clean out all of Jiyong’s stores down to his last packs of cigarettes. She was angry and she wanted him to know it. How could he think of doing something like that to himself? She was so angry that it took all of her self control to not snap when he started to speak. She closed her book and slowly stood up, fiery eyes locking on Jiyong’s face. The haze of his eyes along with the bags under them only confirmed her suspicions. Jiyong was highly addicted to just about everything that she had thrown out. She didn’t even speak, giving him a chance to really look around.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have come to your tent if you would have acknowledged me more than that one night I walked in on you fucking that random chick,” Dara spat, moving closer to him. In the few months while she had vanished from the circus, Dara had found that fear did not come in the form of Jiyong. Even his angry expression couldn’t stop her from advancing on him. “Maybe if I got more than a ‘Oh hi, sorry I have something to do’ I wouldn’t have been in here. And you know, I found the funniest thing…” Dara produced a bottle of sleeping pills (well, the bottle was empty) and she threw it straight at him.

“Was losing her so much to drive you off the edge and make you turn into an idiot?” She yelled, unable to find a way to hold her anger back. She wasn’t even giving him a chance to speak, her words coming out much quicker that her thoughts were flowing. “I’m sorry that CL never gave you the time of day but I swear to god… You are so fucking pathetic,” she hissed, moving forward and shoving hard against his chest. She was so angry that tears stung at the corners of her eyes.

“I came back because of you. I came back because I had never wanted to leave you. I came back for a man that I once thought that I loved. Yes, I thought that I had loved you even when I was that stupid robot,” She shoved his chest again, her arms weaker this time. “But I came back to a shell of a man who only thinks about himself, who doesn’t care that people care about him because apparently drugs are so much more important.” She couldn’t hide the anger and hate from her eyes as she looked at him, though the tears were so much more apparent.

How could he do something like that when she had left to protect him? When she had gone through so much while she had been gone and so that she could get back to him? Her chest was heaving as she tried to fight for the words. “Kwon Jiyong, you are so pathetic…” She repeated, exhaling shakily as she took a few steps back, shaking her head at him in disgust.

“If my friendship means anything to you, you will stop all of this… shit,” She spat once more, hand moving up to her head. She felt dizzy, all of the yelling costing her more energy than she had thought. “I can’t ever be around you if you are like this. I can’t and I won’t. After everything I went through to get back…” Her voice trailed back and she shook her head, looking back up at him with a determined voice. “You better choose here and now what you want because I won’t watch you do this to yourself.”

[freak-jiyong]

Jiyong quieted when Sandara began on her little rampage, especially when she threw their first actual encounter into the mix, when he, admittedly, was doing something he shouldn't have when she stepped into his tent the first time. Although, that should have given her a heads up to not explicitly fling herself into his only realm of privacy, but it didn't seem like she heeded the warning. The bottle of pills hit his chest, and he didn't look down as they hit the tent floor, rolling a bit and settling next to his shoe. It was a small bottle and an unthreatening piece of plastic, but it still made him feel uncomfortable. It was as if all his secrets were dumped out in front of him, in the form of a woman he loved screaming his mistakes in his face. If he was truly himself, he would have agreed with her. Truly, he was pathetic, but her reasoning was only half right. He bit down hard on his lip, the sensation holding him back from seeing red and allowing himself to unclench his fists.

He hadn't the strength or the care to tense up when she pushed him back, though it turned out she was a lot stronger than he thought she was. Once upon a time, when he saved her life, he couldn't help but always think of himself as the tougher one. Yet, here she was, nearly throwing him off his feet because he didn't get enough of his fix today. He stumbled, his body slightly pressing against one side of his tent before he stabled himself. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his ears ringing as her words repeated themselves over and over in his mind. Why wasn't this the way he pictured their final talk? He had dreamed of it, in his haze, and it wasn't this. It wasn't painful.

Thought I once loved, were the only words he made out, the rest of it so angry that he made an unconscious decision to blur it out. She'd insulted him enough, and he got the grim idea of what her updated thoughts were on Kwon Jiyong, and he didn't want to hear any more. Thought I once loved, it played again, and he looked away from her. She pushed him. He stumbled. His eyes gazed over hers, but she looked so far away. She was right there, stinging him, pushing him back although he had nowhere to go, but he still couldn't reach out and touch her. Who knew words could burn so bad? Was this what his acidic abilities felt like?

There was silence. She had given him a chance to choose, but he didn't really know what he was choosing. To numb himself, or to feel again? That was what the choices felt like. She had called him pathetic two times, he counted. How many times did she say she didn't love him? Three? Was it three? He looked up at her, with her hand on her head and tears threatening her pretty brown eyes. Once, he decided, she said it once. He didn't want to speak again, because the quiet was nice. He was angry before, but her words wore him down, and he didn't feel anything but the pain in his chest. His eyes hurt, and he wanted to close them for a long time. Maybe she could hate him, and he could go to sleep. The trade seemed very fair, and the more he looked at his empty bed, the more inviting it all seemed.

"... You have it wrong," he mumbled, although the quiet air made his voice loud enough for her to hear him. He hated the sound of his own voice, and he didn't want to hear it. But he kept talking anyway, as if to spite himself. And maybe save himself.

"CL didn't do this," he grinned wearily, gesturing forward. "But if that's your logic, I could blame it on you. I could point the finger at anyone who'd ever hurt me and say they're the reason I do all the things I do, but that's not true," he took a step away from the edge of the tent, and he stared Sandara down, but to her, it might seem like he was looking past her, or behind her. He couldn't really help it. "I do it because I can't leave like you did. Or she did," he narrowed his eyes. "I don't have a place to go with these... this," he lifted up his hands and the acidic liquid bubbled out of his fingertips. In his right mind, he would never allow someone this close with his ability reacting so forcefully to his emotions. It spilled out of his mouth as if it were drool, but when it pooled against the ground, it burned right through the bottom of the tent. "I found my own way to leave," he said a little desperately, and frowned.

"So you tell me why I should let you take it away."

[freak-sandara]

Vices || Sandara x Jiyong

It didn’t matter how many times Dara attempted to say hi to Jiyong, he always managed to duck out of the conversation before it really ever went anywhere. She had tried catching him in the dining hall, after a performance or even just walking around the grounds. It didn’t matter what she did, the conversations were always the same. Short, awkward and highly frustrating. Dara found herself in her tent just after one such interaction, literally yanking at her own blonde hair in an effort to figure out what the hell she was going to do in that situation. A loud groan escaped her lips and she fell forward on her cot.

A few seconds passed and she bolted upright, an idea hitting her square in the face. She had to corner him, she had to get him to where he had to talk. She had to get him alone in his tent. She quickly got up and fixed her hair and makeup. She was wearing an off the shoulder blue shirt, a pair of short shorts and a long chain over it. She quickly pulled on her shoes and ran out the door, heading over to the tent where Jiyong stayed on his own.

“Ji, I need to talk to you!” She growled, pushing the flap open and walking in faster than she probably should have. However, Jiyong wasn’t there. She frowned at his cot and the bucket of water next to it. There were small scorch marks everywhere. However, her eyes were quickly pulled to a pile of… Dara’s heart raced as she moved closer. Bottles and boxes of over the counter drugs were in a pile next to more alcohol than one person should ever have in their tent. Anyone other than Dara might have automatically just assumed that Jiyong was just easily sick, but Dara knew better.

These weren’t for sickness, these were for a buzz.

In her panic, dara gathered all of the medicines and alcohol and quickly left the tent. She ran off into the trees and quickly dug a hole, burying all of the medicine to where Jiyong wouldn’t be able to find it. The alcohol was all dumped out in front of one of the trees before throwing the bottles in the hole. She quickly covered it and ran back towards the tent, wanting to be there before Jiyong came back.

She quickly ducked back into the tent and sighed a breath of relief seeing that he wasn’t there. She was angry and she needed a moment to think. She plopped herself stomach down on Jiyong’s cot, feet curling up over her back and crossing at the ankles. She pulled her bag up and pulled a book out of it, pretending to read as her mind whirled with what she was going to say. The tent flap opened sooner than she expected, however, and she didn’t even skip a beat before her mouth opened, eyes not even moving from her book.

“Stay or I will beat you to the ground in front of the entire audience tonight,” Her voice was venomous, obviously not joking about her own words.

[freak-jiyong]

Jiyong thought of himself as a free-spirit. He turned into a person who floated around this place and lived on like a ghost, if you will, and he liked it that way. His conversations were short with everyone, his paces were always too quick, and the only real agenda he had was the times of his performances. Since most of the other moments he was packed up alone in his tent, or eating, or sleeping, or something equally as useless, he found easy ways to occupy himself and make the days drone on at least a little bit faster.

The path of self-destruction was a battle indeed, and he was very much caught up in it. He was getting worse by the day, and it was tempting to start on his newly bought bottle even before the performances started. No one would notice, he thought, because he only had a few consecutive shows tonight. They’d go by quickly, and he’d say his thanks, and then be able to disappear for the remainder of the evening. No one would come looking for him. No one cared. It was a system he grew used to, and he was enjoying it.

Kind of.

He was treading toward his tent, to snatch his bottle and sit there for a few minutes, sipping down the sweet poison and grabbing a pack of cigarettes. His eyes were tired and his palms were clammy. He didn’t know why or what he was nervous about, but he didn’t like it enough for him to want to drown it out before it could threaten to feel worse. After all, why feel anything when there’s a gateway out of it? His palms were twitching and he licked at his lips, stepping straight into the green tent without a second thought.

What he wasn’t expecting was his pretty blonde friend sitting on his cot. She was reading a book, on his bed, for some reason. He didn’t know, he didn’t care, but he knew he wasn’t ready to talk to her right now. So, he prepared to pivot himself out before she could even look up, but odds were against him and she spat out a threat that stopped him in his tracks. He let out a sigh, swallowing hard and laying his eyes on her again, his hands twitching at his sides with uneasiness and impatience.

“… Is this about earlier?” he asked, although his voice didn’t have as much substance as it used to. His voice was always rather thin, but it was lower now, monotone. “I didn’t mean to cut you off. Had to set up my tent or whatever. Sorr—“ He was going to apologize and let that be that, but his eyes fell on a certain area of his tent where he stored some very important items. They were left out, he knew they were, because he didn’t have a chance to assort them all into their places yet. He was lazy, and he needed them to be easily accessible.

He definitely wouldn’t have hid every single bit of it. His expression changed, his tired eyes and frown switching to an angry, foul one rather quickly. “What the fuck are you doing in my tent?” He was on the defensive. If she did what he thought she did, he would not be happy. He didn’t even care that the curse slipped so easily off his tongue, or that his fists were clenching as if he would ever do something drastic in a tantrum of sorts. He wouldn’t, because he knew better, and sadly that was the only thing he’s sure about right now.

[freak-yoochun]

Reunion || Yoochun x Jiyong

[freak-yoochun]

Yoocchun blinked when Jiyong pulled down his hood. The other didn’t seem happy to see him. He didn’t remember Jiyong as being overly friendly, but he didn’t recall the man being quite so…cold, Yoochun decided, if he had to put a word to it. Jiyong seemed quite cold—far less approachable than the person he met almost a year ago. Yoochun wondered if it was because Yoochun had stopped him from slipping out of the cirque. He supposed that was understandable. Most people didn’t appreciate it when their plans were foiled. Sometimes Yoochun wished that he didn’t have to put a damper on everyone’s moods by ruining their plans, but he was only watching out for their safety—even if they didn’t think so or appreciate it.

Yoochun frowned when Jiyong gave his curt denial. “Of course,” he responded, the fact that he didn’t believe Jiyong clear in his voice. “Now, I don’t smoke, but I’m pretty sure you don’t need to go to the very edge of the cirque’s campsite to light one up.” The smile he gave Jiyong was amused, amicable. He did his best to convey the fact that he meant no ill will toward the other by the comment—though he wasn’t about to budge on the matter. He didn’t exactly fancy the idea of getting into a fight with Jiyong. They’d parted on decent terms when they’d met last, and he didn’t want to destroy that fact. Of course, if push came to shove, he was fairly certain he could take the other on if need be. Perhaps not physically he thought, as he recalled the other’s acidic ability, but certainly through the use of his own electricity.

The stood there, neither really moving, when Jiyong asked if he’d had any nightmares lately. Yoochun’s arched an eyebrow at the remark, but he couldn’t help the slight flinch at the other’s words. He’d been caught on a particularly bad day, and it was clear Jiyong hadn’t forgotten that fact. He wondered if Jiyong was trying to strike a nerve in Yoochun. He hoped he wasn’t, and that he’d only brought up the topic because that was essentially the only interaction of length they’d had with one another. He didn’t think Jiyong was the type to use a person’s moment of weakness against them. But, a part of his mind protested, he barely knew Jiyong at all; there was no way he could make an assumption like that. He decided to answer the question straight up.

"Not as bad as that, no. Since getting my ability more under control, I haven’t really had nightmares like that recently. I think that was probably the worst one I’ve ever really had." Yoochun shrugged. He was tempted to apologize again, even a year later, but he decided against it. He’d apologized plenty that day. He figured Jiyong would probably be sick of hearing it. "How about you? How are you doing?" He didn’t see the harm in striking up a bit of a conversation with Jiyong. By no means had he forgotten that he was on duty, though, and that he had caught Jiyong who had almost certainly been on his way out of camp. He’d pry for more answers shortly. For now, he was curious to hear what Jiyong had to say about the past year.  

[freak-jiyong]

“I guess you don’t,” he agreed, and shrugged his shoulders. “But this smoke’s bound to piss somebody off. And imagine burning down a tent or two just ‘cuz my cigarette lit fire to the home base. This ability of mine is a bitch, she likes to play some fucked up games ever since I burned a hole through the floor the first time. I could burn through just enough of this cigarette for it to break and light something else on fire. You could call this me being considerate.”

A part of him wondered if Yoochun would buy the story, after all, he never knew the other to be pea-brained or anything of the sort. It seemed convincing enough to be the truth, though, considering what Jiyong said was actually half the truth. Cigarette smoke did piss people off, his ability had no warning, and he could potentially start a fire by smoking near one of the tents. The lie was that Jiyong didn’t actually care that much to step all the way out there to prevent such a situation.

Jiyong wasn’t afraid of others knowing how dangerous his ability had the potential to be. Not that people doubted it before, but he liked to think he seemed a little less harmful as the days went by and he played himself out to be way more careful than he actually was. It was amazing what a couple hits to the chest could do, to snap a person back to reality, or at least turn them into something completely different than what they once were. That wasn’t anyone else’s problem but his, and no one deserved to get the shit end of the stick just because he was the one holding it. But now that this all happened, he was out of his last cigarette and he would be for a while until he found some sort of excuse or gateway to slip out of there for a few minutes. Maybe he could find a friend of his and they could tag along with him, but that was a joke in itself.

He inhaled deeply into the cancer stick as the other gave him a bold answer to his bold question, his eyes half-lidded with mild interest as he nodded along to what the other was saying. He remembered being so easy to manipulate and scare off then, and he knew that somewhere, deep down, if Yoochun tore down another tree, Jiyong still wouldn’t want to be around to see it. Jiyong didn’t necessarily mean to be so cold or unapproachable; it became a bad habit more than anything else.

“Good for you,” he muttered, although he really meant it, it wasn’t sly or sarcastic. Good for Yoochun that he knew he could actually contribute to this society rather than break a couple things and call it a day. Good for Yoochun for making it into the spot of the security team that he was going for, but was rejected due to the fact that him being put in charge of protecting people’s lives was just stupid. “I’m alive,” Jiyong said, a large cheeky grin pulling across his lips, as he lifted both hands up in a ‘ta-da!’ gesture, as his cigarette dangled from his fingertips. “And causing trouble, apparently,” the smile faded and he dotted some ash off the cigarette before holding it to his lips to inhale again. “I always figured you’d be one of these guys, doin’ all sorts of good crap for the circus. How’d you do it? Gain control, how the fuck—“ Jiyong laughed a bit, shaking his head and turning his body toward the edge of the circus, to look out at what he could have traveled into without his interruption.

He needed to go out and grab a few things, soon.

[apolloxjinki-deactivated2015020]

Not for the Weak of Heart. || Key and Jiyong ||

[apolloxjinki-deactivated2015020]

As they walked and the other asked whether he was immune to pain, Key thought about it. That was the drawback of his ability and his life. He still felt the pain of all of his injuries that were self-inflicted or other. “No, I still feel the pain of all the injuries. That’s one of the two drawbacks to my ability,” he stated. Key adjusted his jacket and stretched a bit, wincing in pain, as pain racked through his back. All of his props were real guns and swords, so Key knew exactly what he a sidling with his bloody performance.

As the acid generator explained his view on life after death, key nodded. “Not many people think of their deaths. Which I suppose is a good thing. However, for someone like me, death is an everlasting contast. Am I really trying to say that I reincarnate? No. ” he stated. Key didn’t reincarnate. Reincarnation meant that you were reborn as a different person or thing each life.

Key grinned darkly. “I should introduce myself, since obviously you don’t know who I am. The name is Kim Kibum or Kim Key. I’m the resident immortal,” he said. Inability to die and inability to age. Immortality was a curse and a blessing all at once. “And I know you’re the acid generator but I never heard your name,” he added.

[freak-jiyong]

Jiyong wasn’t the most confident in his ability, and he often commented on how he’d trade his acid hands for anything else, especially just normal hands, with soft palms and warm fingers that he could feel and let others feel without it being a trip to the hospital, but at that tidbit of information, he decided he wouldn’t want an ability like that. A bullet straight through the brain, dropped and proposed dead by any doctor in their right mind, but yet the heart was still beating. Blood was still pumping, and the nerves were reacting. The amount of pain one must be able to endure for that kind of performance sounds like the torture he used to know of, or maybe his past self once knew of. He didn’t want to go into the details, but he was having a hard time distinguishing whether or not he was past his old mistakes.

“Immortal,” he repeated to himself, nodding as though he grasped the concept, which he really didn’t. It sounded unnatural, which was completely ironic considering what he was and what he did, but that was an ability he didn’t expect anyone to have. The ability to live forever, to out-live every single person you could ever come to love. It was depressing. Then again, so was the nickname “acid hands”.

“Jiyong,” he answered, his lips thinning as he nodded a bit awkwardly when the other mentioned his curse. “Nice to meet you…” he trailed off, picking from the two names the other provided. “Key.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He found out the ability, they exchanged tags, and he wasn’t exactly feeling too social. “What the hell does a bullet through the brain feel like?” Well, that wasn’t insensitive at all. At least he didn’t have to worry about any curious bystanders, since they’d all disappeared out into the circus by now.

[freak-jiyong]

well, this is awkward :: sungjong & jiyong

[freakxsungjong-blog]

Ever since Sungjong’s closest friend left due to personal reasons, Sungjong felt like there was no one that could understand him. He stopped socializing with people and only kept close to L, however when L started ignoring him as well, Sungjong withdrew into himself. He no longer really saw any point in life and everything had become extremely dull. It felt as though his ability had once become his life. He hated it.

The feeling of being invisible when visible was the story of his life. It was too much for the diva to handle, so one day when everything just got to be too much for the boy, he left his tent and simply went out on a walk. His walk brought him to the forests and then around the trees, nearly getting lost and then to the empty tents that were abandoned for other purpose or merely not there. He took a deep breath and entered one tent, and flopped down in a corner.

Immediately, the sassy diva went invisible and he just quietly sat in a corner for a few moments. Sungjong was lost in his thoughts, however he was interrupted when a person walked in. Sungjong knew this person. It was the acid generator. What was he doing here? The question rang through his head. It was answered as soon as the other man simply started dancing.

To Sungjong, it looked awkward and weird, maybe it was because he couldn’t hear the music. Well…that was awkward. He blinked and turning visible, he exclaimed, “WTF?” the only sentiment in his head at that moment.

[freak-jiyong]

The last thing on Jiyong’s mind was getting caught in his embarrassing groove. The tent was empty, the members were relatively busy, and he considered himself safe during his innocent endeavor into the world of sound. He should have considered the possibility of someone with invisibility poking their head around in different places, but in a normal world, that just sounded childish. With all the time he’s spent in the circus, one would think he’d realize that the world he lived in was the exact opposite of normal.

Plus, this wasn’t all exactly planned. He didn’t enter the tent specifically to get lost in his own head. But when he spun himself around and saw a person staring at him, he couldn’t help but blame himself. Seeing the other made him jerk back and rip the ear buds out of his ears; his eyes wide with surprise. He could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment, shoving his ear buds into his pocket before awkwardly holding his hands behind his back. You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.

Jiyong stared back at the other with his own perplexed expression. He had no idea what to say to the other. Should he apologize? Should he explain himself? Should he leave? At that option, Jiyong turned his head toward the tent flap that proved to be his only exit. He forced a smile to his face – although it wasn’t a very convincing one, and met eyes with the circus member. Had he been watching long? Was he in there the whole time?

“U-Um,” Jiyong stuttered, coughing and clearing his throat before continuing. “I, uh,” his lips pressed together and he sighed. “I don’t even know what to say. You caught me.” He wanted to laugh, and he felt like it would have made the atmosphere a little less tense and weird, but he didn’t. 

[mischalareine-blog]

[freak-sandara]

Unexpected || Dara & Jiyong

[freak-sandara]

The words that Jiyong spoke hurt her more than they should have. He had missed her, and yet there was still no feeling other than that behind his words. Her smile tensed up, the feeling of jealousy welling up inside her very core. He was still in love with CL, how could she have thought anything to change? And yet, she knew that she held no claim on his heart. She had no right to be jealous and no claim on his heart, and yet she couldn’t help the anger that welled up.

She was like a child who’s best friend took away her favourite toy. She was angry and yet she couldn’t let anyone else see because she had been taught to be nice, she had been taught to share.

Something about Jiyong was different, something was off. He hadn’t even called that girl by her name and he hadn’t seemed to care that she had run off. It had just been a hook up. She blinked and looked to the side, finding herself unable to look at him. Had CL running off with Seungri been too much for him to handle? Had he resorted to sleeping around just to fill the whole that CL had left in his heart? She didn’t think that she wanted to  know anything else. She hated her ability to see and remember everything, it caused more harm than it did good.

Her smile went from being uncomfortable to that of being somewhat cocky. “If you can find a matching outfit that would actually look good, I might actually wear it,” She placed her hand on her hip before looking away, trying to decide what more to say. The tension was so much that she could have cut it with a dull blade.

And then, Alcohol was mentioned. Dara blinked, dark eyes searching Jiyong’s for any form of the fact that he might be just playing around with her. He out of everyone there would know just how badly her body reacted with alcohol, just how little she could hold before she totally lost control.

Just how much she couldn’t ever reject a drink from anyone.

“Get yourself cleaned up and put on some clothes that don’t look like you had a girl rubbing her lower regions all over them and I may actually allow you to buy me a drink. For now, I still get to be angry at you for being an idiot,” Her smile was smug, something that he probably would have never seen on her before. An expression that she had found herself wearing more and more lately.

“You of all people, however, know that I can’t hold my alcohol. So you will have to promise not to let me do something absolutely idiotic because I still can’t figure out where my limits are,” She reached up, flicking her hair over her shoulder. She couldn’t let him see how much she was bothered, and yet she didn’t want to put her mask back on. Not in front of him.

Not in front of the one who had worked so hard in chipping away the first parts of it in the first place.

[freak-jiyong]

He wanted to be blunt with her. Right when he first saw her, he wanted to walk up to her and ask, “What the hell happened to you?” And knowing Dara—the old Dara—he’d get a response just as forward as his question, if not more. Yet now he was completely thrown off by every single one of her actions. She had smiled at him, smirked, and grinned. The only thing missing from the mix was a laugh, which he honestly wasn’t sure if he was prepared for. It was as if someone took her and strung out all her emotions back into place, made her into something so different and so normal that he had no idea where to place his words or how.

Back then, when him and Dara spent time together, it was always awkward but oddly pleasant. He enjoyed it even though he did something wrong a million times over in the matter of one meeting. He was his lamest around her, which was something that had changed also. He grew colder in these past months—but not only because of the loss of CL. She left him too, as well as many others. For that time, he had no one at all. Loneliness was a curse and it hit him hard, spiraling him into an almost adolescent stage of trying to figure out who the hell he was anymore. He didn’t want to be weak so he took the weak away; his warm heart. Of course, the stubborn thing was always there, beating furiously at night to remind him that he was still the person he was before as he performed and got a thrill out of the excited and confused faces of the crowds. Yes, the Jiyong that Dara and others knew him as back then was still very much alive, just pushed back by the fear that he’d get hurt if he revealed him again.

Dara answered him with, basically, a yes, and he felt his heart swell up with excitement. His smile widened as she called him an idiot, remembering it as his nickname from a certain someone at a certain period of time. Plus, how could he be upset? After all, he did just blatantly disregard the half-naked woman he was just with as soon as she left his tent. If anything, he expected a solid no from her and maybe even some real anger—but he’ll take what he got instead without complaint.

“Sorry,” he said again sheepishly, his smile dulling a bit as he looked away from her. He glanced down at himself and his ridiculous clothing choice, suddenly regretting not putting more effort into his ‘quick-put-on-some-clothes-before-she-disappears-again’ outfit. When he looked back up, she mentioned her unforgettable reactions to alcohol which widened his smile once again. Of course, she wasn’t all different, she couldn’t be—she was different, not new.

“Of course,” he answered smugly, biting down on his lip to hold back his childish excitement. “I’ll find you,” he said, lifting up both his hands and giving her a two thumbs up, his eyes almost sparkling with a sudden life that even he hasn’t seen in a very long time.

[freak-narae]

The Loof is On Fiyah || Jiyong + Narae

[freak-narae]

Clearly seeing the acid moving from his fingertips –wow that was so cool; maybe she could use melting acid in her first show or something, but wait; she didn’t want to take any of his viewers away, and—shit, what was she focused on in the first place? Eyes training back to the melting points, she realized that this guy was the source of it, and he was covered in enough of it to turn him into goop as well. Face twisting with the realization, she called back a defiant, “Maybe. Is there anything you want to save?” Narae had already started skirting the melting things, moving further toward the things this acid man couldn’t hope to touch on his own without ruining, though she eventually had to stop to weigh her options: this guy was likely in an incredible amount of pain, and if he wasn’t helped, he wouldn’t need anything anymore.

“Actually hold that thought.” She called, reaching into her pocket for a clean tissue, as she made her way back over to the guy, the hissing from the melting tarp the soundtrack to her heroic endeavor, “You need to get out of here first, acid doesn’t bother dirt as far as I know.” Hand going to his arm, it thinly protected by a piece of tissue, Narae grabbed him and tried to guide the recently awoken guy out of his snake den of hissing materials. “stuff or no stuff you need to see a medic.”

Narae stored her cane back in her pocket, feeling slightly unbalanced without it there to tap out her way, but she knew it would most likely just come into contact with more flying acid if she kept it out right then. Flying or dripping. Now that was a scary thought.

Shuddering slightly, her eyes began to project an image of acid dripping onto her head, with her hair and scalp starting to disintegrate, her mouth opened in a horrid, mute scream, that she quickly clamped her eyes shut for, cutting off the images. “Sorry, that happens.” Narae muttered, figuring there wasn’t much chance for the guy to have missed it…but the hissing sound was going to her head, so she yanked harder, wondering if she’d need to sacrifice her cane to make this rather unlucky fellow follow after her. How was she supposed to save his life if he wouldn’t let her? That was just rude, if you asked her. But if they both got permanent acid burns from this, homegirl was not going to be happy.

The smell itself was also rather disconcerting, and she wrinkled up her nose, wishing for the less pungent scent of actual fire burning things, rather than this chemical equation gone wrong. It smelled like a malfunction at the tire factory, or like a mad scientist that just improperly discarded his acidic compounds, leaving the science lab’s poor trashcan to go up in smoke. Hopefully she could punt him to Junsu’s tent, and then return for his stuff if he wanted her to –because the rescue also seemed a bit too pointless if he lost any of his stuff. Limbs and clothes had to stay intact, thank you. Her rescue procedure that she just wrote up certainly said so –so they had to get moving! Too bad her power wasn’t super strength really.

[freak-jiyong]

Was this woman out of her mind?

Jiyong almost wanted to yell at her, although his croaky voice, groggy from sleep wouldn’t do much good for either of them. He took a step back as the woman got closer to him, speaking about saving his things and other nonsense he couldn’t find himself comprehending as the acid did more damage than it should have if this strange girl just did as she was told. And to get even bolder, the woman took a tissue out of her pocket and daintily placed it around his arm, which thankfully was free of the substance. She witnessed the burning and melting of metal and multiple fabrics, yet this lady thought it was the safest option to shield herself with a thin piece of paper—unbelievable.

“I don’t need to see a medic,” he protested, although he couldn’t do much besides follow her considering if he tried to rip out of her grip, he’d accidentally prove how unavailing a simple tissue was. The girl might have been nuts but she wasn’t bad, and she definitely didn’t deserve an acid burn that would be almost impossible to explain to anyone else without sounding horribly ridiculous. “I can’t believe he did that. Why does anyone allow him to stay in the circus anyway?” Jiyong’s expression twisted at the thought, his brows tilting in frustration as he attempted small tugs to get away from the woman. She was stubborn, and Jiyong turned to see if she seriously thought she was doing a ‘good deed’ here, only to be surprised by a vision that he knew wasn’t there before.

It was a woman – it was this woman, boiling down to nothing with what he assumed was his ability as the killer. His eyes widened at the image, his breath caught in his throat for a few seconds as he took in her fear, or whatever that was, displayed before them both. If it was a fear like he initially thought, then maybe this woman wasn’t as out of her mind as he thought she was. If it was just a fun little image—just a visual to add to the lovely scene already playing out before them—then it wasn’t all that appreciated on his part. She mumbled an apology, her explanation sounding just about as casual as everything else she’d spoken so far. He didn’t get it. Why didn’t she let go?

Finally, they were out of his tent and Jiyong’s arm tightened against her stubborn grip. The acid on the inside of his tent was finally fading away, as it could only be kept up by a constant feed from Jiyong, and the damage was settling instead of worsening as it had been. Now he did need to see Junsu, but not because he was hurt, but because his tent was so damaged that he didn’t know if he could sleep in it anymore. He heaved a heavy sigh before giving the strange woman a small tug once more. “Let go of me,” he said sternly, before continuing with something else, “Does it look like I’m hurt?” He pointed his stare to her, his brows lifting as if he wanted her to challenge him with a response. His eyes were still tired from sleep and his hair was very messy, but other than that—he was fine.

His belongings? Those he could kiss goodbye. He couldn’t wait to go back through his things and see what he could keep and what he destroyed. It was his own fault that this happened, but the woman beside him seemed like an awfully good target for blame at the moment.

[freak-yoochun]

Reunion || Yoochun x Jiyong

Yoochun yawned, and his eyes teared up a little. No matter how long he’d been with the cirque, it was still odd to walk around in broad daylight knowing he should technically be asleep right now, even if the rest of the population was awake and in the middle of their day. At least his body and brain had mostly readjusted to the schedule. It was just the presence of the sun that really threw him off. He wondered if he’d ever get over it. He imagined it would take quite some time and, even though he didn’t have any immediate intentions to leave the cirque, he figured he’d leave one day, and then he wouldn’t really need to keep a nocturnal schedule like he did now. 

But that was neither here nor now, and Yoochun refocused his attention back on the job he was supposed to do as he did his best to suppress another yawn. As a member of the security team, it was his responsibility to insure that the cirque was safe, and Yoochun tried to patrol the area every other day to see that it was. However, depending on where the cirque had set up camp, a patrol of the perimeter would take more or less time depending on how big it was. The perimeter of their camp this time wasn’t enormous, but it was sizable, so it was taking him longer than he’d hoped it would. At least, consoled himself, he was almost done with this patrol and he’d be able to sleep. He was glad he could do his part keeping the cirque safe, but he did want to get some rest.

Much to Yoochun’s dismay, any thoughts of shortly being reunited with his bed were dashed when he saw a figure leaving the campgrounds. Normally, the sight would not be unusual. However, there were a few things that sent flags up in Yoochun’s mind that whoever this person was, he or she was not leaving the cirque with express permission to do so. Foremost, the figure was not leaving the campsite through what was effectively the entrance—that is, a larger opening into the clearing they’d found than any other makeshift pathways around the area. Secondly, this person moved in such a way that they appeared to be watching over the shoulder. It was not obvious, but he or she was looking around more than one would expect a person to do if he or she was supposed to be going wherever it was he or she was headed.

So, Yoochun took it upon himself to call out, “Hey! You over there! Stop for a second!” He picked up his pace and jogged the rest of the distance between the two of them. “I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but I’d like to know where you’re headed off to. You’re skirting pretty close around the perimeter of the campsite and the area cirque members are allowed to explore. If you have permission to head out on your own, then there isn’t a problem, but…” He lowered is voice the closer he got to the person, trailing off when he got close enough to see who he’d stopped. 

"Jiyong?" He said, surprised, "It sure has been a while since I ran into you." Yoochun recalled when he’d first encountered the man, back on home island when he’d first arrived at the cirque and had been having a particularly violent nightmare. "Uhm, what are you doing out here?"

[freak-jiyong]

He was out again.

Out of all the things he deemed he needed to survive day after day in the circus. He only considered stocking up on these items now, but the circus didn’t really provide him with enough money to do so anyway. Although it wasn’t like he had to pay rent or pay for much of anything if he wanted to settle with the questionable items of food that was occasionally conjured up in the kitchen tent. Even though the food wasn’t exactly desirable, it didn’t matter to Jiyong’s acidic mouth. He barely ever tasted the food that he ate, so he figured he could finish a meal of pretty much anything.

Jiyong finally gained the strength to leave his tent, taking a lighter and his last cigarette with him. He tugged his hood over his blonde hair and slipped the jewelry on his wrist into his pocket. The air was cold but he could manage, his eyes pointed forward as he made a beeline to the forest area of the circus. From there, he could make a turn directly into a town and snoop around for whatever he needed before slipping off back into his tent before circus activities started up again. It was a well thought out plan in his opinion, but he never really thought about getting caught. After all, he’s done it so many times without fail, he couldn’t help but consider being a little lazy with his plans of escape every now and then.

Of course, that was probably what leads him to getting caught. A voice broke the silence of morning, the call sending an odd chill up his spine. Jiyong kept his back turned to the other as he finally caught up to him, his entire body still. The words the man spoke made Jiyong scowl, his teeth gritting slightly as the other went on about his duties as ‘part of the security team’. Jiyong remembered well the embarrassing results of that damned test, and quite frankly, he didn’t appreciate this man rubbing it in his face.

Jiyong turned his head to glare at the other, but as their eyes met, his own widened some at the realization of just who it was speaking to him. It was Yoochun, or Micky, wasn’t it? They had spoken some time ago, maybe even a full year ago, back at the home island when Jiyong was first accepted into the circus. Their interaction was an odd one, one that he couldn’t forget—the other had an unstable ability as well, his nightmares ending the life of a tree and scaring the newbie Jiyong out of his wits. They had a short conversation after that, but since then, they’ve been more like strangers.

Pulling the hood off of his head, not bothering to shield himself anymore, he turned fully to the familiar face and stared at him without a grin or a smile. He wasn’t happy about this, because now after he conjured up some kind of lie, he had to go back to his tent and wait, taking away a couple hours of sleep he needed. The other recognized him, calling him by name and slipping into a more casual tone rather than keeping up one that sounded more like a bossy secretary.

“Nothing,” he replied, slipping his hand into one of his pockets to pull out the lighter and the pack of cigarettes that held the last tobacco stick he held to his name. “Just out here for a cigarette,” he mumbled with the white paper in between his lips, lighting the other end of the stick to life before slipping the lighter back into his pocket. “Have any nightmares lately?” he asked with a sick tone of casualty; he remembered very clearly just how taxing those nightmares were on his old acquaintance. 

[freak-jiyong]

not interested :: sojung & jiyong

[freak-sojung-deactivated2014031]

There was a crispness in the air Sojung wasn’t particularly fond of it since it just made her more thirsty than she already was at all times. Then her train of thought drifted to the sudden change of atmosphere around the circus. She found it strange that the old founder came back and took so many away. Not long after, her steps became more careful out of habit. The number of times she ran into foreign objects- people included- are countless. 

Sojung was wondering how the performances were going to change. Cirque du Freak will become a much more intimate attraction, that was for sure. From the looks of some of the acts, that isn’t the best case scenario. Her mind went to the man with the little bear cub she’s seen lumbering around, the girl who always seemed to be dripping in sharp blades, and a closed off man who seemed to look sicker the more people was around him. The only person she could imagine enjoying was the fox boy who just always seemed to want to talk to anything that moved and had a heartbeat- being at the other end often. It was sometimes a curse, observing and remembering so many details that just piled up in her mind until she expelled them. 

The tents passed away in a slow blur as she walked, wondering what she should do to pass the time. She didn’t really know anyone to ask to buddy up with her to go into town.

While her face was contorting in thought, a figure blocked her path. Sojung’s eyes focused on the person standing in front of her, the familiar scent of cigarettes lingered around him, reminding her of her father.

"Hmm," She hummed; unimpressed, "Wouldn’t you like to know. Maybe if you look hard enough you’ll find it." While there was never jabs at her being a mermaid, guys coming up to her like this was something she tired of after hearing similar things so many times. It might have been partially her fault; getting gigs at bars and such, but the money wasn’t all that bad and she needed it to pay off school. All of them start sounding the same after a while, "What’s your name; sleep with me?" Sojung couldn’t tell if he was one of those too, but she wasn’t going to give him anything either way.

[freak-jiyong]

Jiyong was hurt. He didn’t even get a chance to introduce himself and this girl was already blowing him off. It seemed so easy to push someone away, with just the roll of one’s eyes or a shrug. Maybe he didn’t come entirely prepared for this interaction, considering she was ready to spit fire at him before he could go in for a kill. He visibly frowned, his eyes watching her as she stayed put with her cold eyes and uninterested stare. He had one thing going for him; she didn’t walk away.

A smile pulled at his lips once more as played out his response, his fingers twitching slightly by habit before he folded them behind his back. The last thing he needed was an outbreak, but that was pretty much the last thing he needed all the time. “You’re Sojung,” he stated, as if remembering her name from a conversation he had however long ago. “We’ve both been here for a while but I never got the guts to come up to you,” he sighed lightly, glancing to the right of him as his lips thinned almost awkwardly. “I’m Kwon Jiyong,” he introduced himself, and then politely bowing to show traditional respect. It was better than shaking her hand, which he could never do no matter how pretty a woman’s hands were.

“Do you get tired of being cooped up in a tank all night?” he asked her, his brows rose with interest as he waited for her to answer his question. If this didn’t go as he planned it to, he’d be slightly disappointed, but more-so intrigued. Not because a girl never rejected him before, since he has definitely had more than one ‘speak their mind’ to him when he attempted this futile flirting game. If she wasn’t interested in sleeping with him, she could very well become a friend. How he’d put all that together without messing it up, he didn’t know. He figured the worst she could do was end up hating him, and that thought didn’t really affect him enough to pull back from his ways.

He was harmless, obnoxious, annoying; he was everything.  The number one thing that no one thought counted was that he was bored. He was also dreadfully lonely, but that was a thought he didn’t ever want to think about, as it usually turned his nights into messy ones.

[freak-jiyong]

serendipity :: seunghyun & jiyong

[chrvnos-blog]

Seunghyun watched as he got a viable response from the young man; it was just a nod, but it was an indication that he understood what he had said nonetheless, and it was all he needed for the time being. The alleyway had quickly shifted from the bewildered silence to a now hostile din, their company becoming more rowdy by the second and for a brief moment, he considered the possibility of actually having to fight them. He had many tricks up his sleeve, ones that would permanently deal with the party in question, however he doubted it would go well considering the state of his seemingly inebriated ally. Fortunately, the male before him suddenly regained his footing somewhat, and dashed forward leading Seunghyun to follow suit, his feet pounding the pavement in rapid succession and his eyes glued to the staggering being in front of him. He had no idea where they were heading, neither did he think it was a great idea to be lead by the besotted but he didn’t have the luxury of rationalising the situation. His legs carried him instinctively, the adrenaline still present in his bloodstream, pushing him to the extent where his chest felt as if it might had burst right then and there, only to come to an abrupt stop when the male halted and doubled over to vomit.

Seunghyun was far from squeamish, so it wasn’t the pool of sick that caused him to cringe a few steps back to a safe distance. Rather, it was the way the splatter began to steam and burn away at the concrete ground as if it were a type of acid.  Rapt at the site, he failed to hide his astonishment as his eyes widened, his gaze only interrupted by the man falling back onto his behind. Now that they were in better light, he could just about discern the features of his ally. Blond hair, slim build, fingers that burned into the concrete…

Immediately, his expression displayed recognition as he the memory of his first visit to the circus flashed into his mind; the tent bearing the sign with what he vaguely remembered to had said, “G-Dragon: The Acid Man”, the melting away of the plastic box by the touch of his fingers, the steaming of the mouth… Who would have known that one of the contributing factors as to why Seunghyun had joined the circus in the first place would be sat before him, in a complete and utter mess.

His lips parted to question the peculiar things that were happening to the ground, however he was halted in the process, his intended sentence altered due to the question the blond had asked. “Seunghyun.” He replied cooly, crouching down so that he could study the male further. Of course he didn’t look in great condition like he did the night he saw his performance but the acid burned pavement did help confirm that this was indeed the person he assumed him to be. Yet Seunghyun still decided to ask.

“You’re not the acid man, by any chance?”

[freak-jiyong]

Seunghyun. A name he should try to remember, considering it was the tag of the person who saved his life. But with his head reeling and his body losing more and more of its strength, he wondered if he would be able to make it to remembering anything that had happened this night at all. Alcohol was a poison, so why did he drink it? If it were to kill himself, this was the closest he’s ever gotten, and he ended up running for his life in the end. It was to forget, to pass these days by quickly until something makes it worthwhile – but the more he continued on, the more he realized it was a mistake.

Would he stop? Could he stop? It was his addiction – and he was ashamed of that. But none of it really mattered now.

“You’re not the acid man, by any chance?”

Oh, the dreaded nickname, the acid man. It was the name that the circus and all its guests knew him by. He was the man who could destroy everything with his touch; the man who could take the world away and melt it to nothing at the very tip of his tongue. He came to terms with it; after all, he was an entertainer and nothing more. It all meant nothing besides a little bit of cash and a place to call home, although he disrespected the kind gestures of the circus day after day with his antics. He used to be very generous with the circus, caring, and patient with the constant happenings. So much had happened in the span of time he was there. There was a suicide, a kidnapping, and the mysterious appearance of the true ringmaster, Hyori, every now and again. Jiyong still remembered and kept the item that was gifted to him; the small dragon statue that he always made sure never to damage. It could be considered his most precious item for a reason he could never quite place.

A hearty laugh escaped his lips suddenly, his eyes closing and his head tilting back as he laughed into the air. What a wonderful surprise! He must have been a new face around the cirque, right? With an ability to crush a bullet into the ground and the knowledge of the Midnight Circus, it only made sense. What a good impression this gave. He was an absolute mess, in and out of a glass case. The concept only made him laugh harder, his fingers digging into the melting concrete as the acid continued its work.

It took him a few moments to calm himself, his laughter fading out into a snicker. He glanced up at the male with a smug grin as if there was something he should be proud of in this whole expedition. “I’m the acid man,” he said and shrugged his shoulders loosely, lifting up one of his hands to the other, his grin widening. “Nice to meet you.” The acid dripped from his fingers lazily, each drop hitting the ground at its own pace. Jiyong only hoped the male knew better than to take his hand, as he could only imagine the result if his companion reached over to grip right on to the hungry substance that coated his skin.

[yar1]

(ＴｗＴ。)

[apolloxjinki-deactivated2015020]

Not for the Weak of Heart. || Key and Jiyong ||

[apolloxjinki-deactivated2015020]

Key grabbed another towel, and rubbed the blood of his hands as the other simply looked at him. Finally hearing the statement of him losing a lot of blood, Key looked up from his hands. “You’re the acid generator. Didn’t think someone like you would have the guts to watch my performance,” he stated. Key stood up and closed the box with the gun and knife. Thinking of how he should respond to the other’s question of how does he do that, Key smiled slightly. “How do I do what exactly? The show? Or simply still being alive after that?” He asked in return.

Immortality was real and Key was the living example of it. His brown eyes gazed towards the other man in the tent. “Do you believe in a life after death? Reincarnation, that sort of thing?” He asked. For Key, life after death didn’t exist. There was only living and dying as the same person time and time again. He picked up his case and walked out of the tent, motioning for the other to follow him so they could talk while walking.

[freak-jiyong]

Jiyong’s lips parted slightly when the man initially responded to his question, ready to defend himself but changing his mind at the last minute. As far as anyone needed to know, he didn’t have the guts to do a lot of things... like burn through human skin, hand over the innocent to the criminals, or be the one who deals with the innocents handed to him. Everyone had a history, but not everyone needed to know of each other’s secrets. Jiyong simply decided to not respond at all, staying silent until the circus member began to speak again.

“Are you immune to pain?” he asked, his thoughts returning to the images of the performance. It was possible to survive a gunshot if the bullet wedged into a certain part of the brain, although it would cause a number of other problems and definitely not leave a man standing tall like the one in front of him. The circus, normally, didn’t have to use fake props, which sparked his curiosity in the first place. It didn’t make sense – then again, what did?

Life after death was an interesting concept. There was a median in the circus, so that must have meant something. Of course, the median could be one hell of an actor – but if that was the case, why join the real circus of freaks? They were all an abomination for one reason or another; he’d think a normal person would want to roam free with the rest of their kind in the world.

Hah. Their kind. He didn’t realize just how pretentious the circus could be.

“I try not to think about it. I figure I’ll find out one day,” he said with a shrug, walking along with the performer so they could keep up a conversation away from the guests. “Are you trying to tell me that you reincarnate?” He asked, his brows perking to support the interest presented in his tone. Could he die and come back as himself, like a never-ending cycle of life? Now that was interesting.

[freak-sandara]

Unexpected || Dara & Jiyong

[freak-sandara]

The way that Jiyong stared at her made her start to feel like she was some sort of ghost that had come back to haunt him. Had she been wrong, had she actually died? Her eyes flicked down, a sense of unease setting in as she wondered why he was not speaking. She watched the way he moved as if he was drunken and trying to see straight, his eyes widening and narrowing as if his vision was all a blur. The tension between them became so thick that she felt she could reach out and grab it, though the knife in her boot would probably do a much better job at cutting through it.

His hands moved up and he moved forward, evoking a flinch from her that she had though she had rid herself of. Spending weeks with the triads being tortured until days seemed like years had taken its toll on her psyche, though she knew that this was more than just remnants of her days of torture. She was frightened of what Jiyong would do, what he would say or how he would react once he reached her.

And then, warm arms embraced her.

Immediately Dara’s arms moved around his waist, slender fingers clutching at his back as if to hold herself steady. She buried her face in his shoulder, not caring if her carefully done makeup smeared slightly. Her heart beat painfully in her chest as memories from their past together swirled in her head. “I missed you…” Her voice was thick as she tried to force back the tears, not wanting to frighten him off too much with her seeming change in personality. The words replaced the ones that she wished to say and yet she knew there to be no point. The feelings they had for each other were not the same, she was merely a friend that he had held close.

Though why should he be so surprised at the new her? He had seen the beginnings of her transformation before she had vanished — only he could be blamed for what he saw before him. She had been content in her world of technology and suppressed emotions, though quite obviously doomed to live out the rest of her life without knowing love. And then he had walked into her equipment tent, burning a hole through several wires and sticking his foot in the door to the vault she had locked her heart in, inadvertently reminding her that yes, even she was still human.

It didn’t take too long, however, for the scent of cheap perfume and sweat to fill her nostrils causing her stomach to lurch and her mind to remember what she had just walked in on. She grunted, reigning in the blush that had fallen over her cheeks and the tears that threatened at the corners of her eyes before she moved her hands to his chest and pushed herself away.

“Ji, you smell..” Her mouth, however, was still turned into a smile — and not the awkward one that had seemed to frighten people away before she had left. her hand reached up, fingers combing through his now blonde hair. How often did he color it? She was surprised that it was still so healthy. “I like this hair on you,” She commented softly, before finally moving her eyes back to his face. “Though you look as terrible as you smell,” A small chuckle escaped her lips, though a pang of sadness rang through her chest. All of this sadness and she knew it was for one reason — CL had left with Seungri, leaving Jiyong heartbroken.

[freak-jiyong]

Expecting to be thrown back as soon as he attempted to pull her close to him, he was pleasantly surprised when she fell into his embrace, and even returned it. He took in her scent, which was no longer oil that she used to loosen up gears on machines or the soft scent of whatever shampoo she happened to put in her hair. She smelled pretty – an odd way of using the term, sure, but it was the only way he could describe it. Life had seemed to take over after they parted ways, opening up what he or CL couldn’t reach after all that time. It was a little disheartening, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it yet, but he knew that he didn’t hate it, either.

The sincere words fell from her lips and his heart twisted in his chest, faintly reminded of the other words she admitted to him, going back to his birthday where she even kissed him. The thought made his jaw tighten, a wave of sadness washing through him as he remembered the circumstances back then. How could he force himself to forget that? As much as he wanted to, he remembered his own cruelty, he was constantly being drowned by his own guilt and there was nothing he could do to change that. CL was something he thought he could grasp but as soon as he tried, she was gone. That whole time, Dara was there. Of course, until she was gone too. He was stupid to think that he could get away with loving one person without hurting someone else; he learned the hard way of his mistakes.

“I missed you too.”

When she pushed away from him, he let her, already satisfied with the response he had gotten from her. Her comment put a smile on his face, his eyes meeting hers before shaking his head. She was smiling at him – really smiling. He didn’t have to poke and prod at her a number of times or coo at her until she forced herself to smile at him. It was unprovoked, taking him by surprise yet again, and he couldn’t do anything but smile back. Where did you go?He found himself wondering again, but he knew that they couldn’t sit down and talk when another woman was literally just on top of him. His brows tilted slightly and his smile became a bit awkward, his thoughts making him realize what an impression that must have given her.

If only she knew. At least no one here would be able to really tell her. As far as he knew, no one really caught up on his antics as no one seemed to care. He was content with that, considering most of the stuff he was up to was no good. He felt like a teenager again, breaking all of these rules that seemed to petty to acknowledge. Which reminded him – maybe Dara would share a few drinks with him and still be as loopy as he remembered.

“I’m glad you like it. It’ll probably be the same for a month or two,” he said, grinning. It didn’t occur to him to grab a piece of her blonde hair, as he felt his hands would be much more helpful if he kept them at his sides. “I guess we should find ourselves some matching outfits to go with our matching hair.” In other words, he wanted to ask her why she colored it that way in the first place. Really, he just had a whole list of questions all together. Maybe he should write them out and slip it to her under her tent flap. Which tent was she staying in anyway? The new leader didn’t really affect him, since both the leaders seemed to agree that he always needed a tent to himself. But he knew everyone else was moved around – he doubted her tent was pink anymore, although it would probably match her whole exterior now better than ever.

“If I promise to go and get my smelly self cleaned up, can you promise that I can steal you for a drink later on?” he asked hopefully, attempting to hide his slight desperation with a steady stare and cheeky smile.

[freak-narae]

The Loof is On Fiyah || Jiyong + Narae

One day in, Narae certainly wasn’t used to the sudden flip to a nocturnal schedule and found herself wide awake by noon the next day, unable to sleep any longer. Pursing her lips, she sat up, vision bleary with the few hours of REM sleep she had actually managed to attain, and glanced around the tent, eyes finding her two sleeping, male tentmates. Smirking a bit, her a little too pleased with the first real chance she had had to ogle men in a long time, she examined them, before going to dress herself for the cold weather. She actually really loved winter, but she could only mourn how few warm clothes fit into her suitcase.

It didn’t take long for her to dress, and right after came the glasses, night stealing over her line of sight instantaneously. A sigh threatened to escape, but she fought it off by opening her cane with a sharp snap of her wrist, a pleased grin taking over instead. Nothing made up for her “condition” like having the right to smack people around with a cane and get away with it did.

Deciding tiring herself out would be the best option to eventually falling back asleep before night, she set out to explore the circus grounds, stick steadily tapping along the ground as she judged the elevation, trying to see if she could find the kitchen tent by scent alone, even though no one would likely be cooking at this time of day.

Everything smelled like nature when the wind blew, it knocking away the oppressive scent of human filth and cleaning products that likely only clung to everything from the performances the night before. She floated along, a warmth filling her, as she exposed herself to everything new that she could, hands itching to remove the glasses, since no one was around anyway. Narae wanted to see, and how often did she get opportunities like this?

Taking yet another deep, appreciative, breath, she came to a screeching halt, gagging at the scent she had inhaled so vigorously. Now this didn’t smell peaceful or relaxing –it smelled like the junkyard in the summer, the country men’s houses on Saturday nights, or those old factories she used to walk past on her way home from school… It smelled like burning tires.

Wrinkling up her nose, wondering why she would catch wind of something like that in the woods, she angled herself toward the scent, stick tapping more frantically as she tried to make sure she had identified that scent correctly. But the closer she got the more shallow her breaths became. The scent of burning polyethylene was making her feel faint, so she raised her left hand to filter the intensity of it, her perfume partially blocking it out.

Now that her nerves chewed at her, however, she couldn’t resist taking her glasses off to see what was going on, and after squinting a bit to get them used to the sunlight, she gaped at the sight she had come so close to: the melting of one of the tents.

“Oh shit.” She squeaked, face paling at the surprisingly dangerous sight. Should she get someone about that?

But it was a tent –what if someone was inside?

Raising her voice, she called, “Hey, is anyone in there, anyone at all?”

Glancing nervously at the tent, she went to slip into it, vowing to herself if she died from this that she was going to come back from the dead and beat the shit out of Junsu for allowing such a dangerous environment to exist.

“Hello?” She tried again, eyes darting nervously around the tent as she tried to see if anyone was in this one, though the odds were definitely in that favor, considering the time of day. Narae just hoped they weren’t dead.

[freak-jiyong]

The best kind of sleep was the sleep without dreams. It was, in his opinion, the most restful and calming sleep which made him feel more energized rather than a night full of nightmares and thoughts. It was because of this deep state of unconsciousness that he couldn’t bother to care about anything else. He could not smell, hear, or see anything besides the dark of his eyelids. It was the kind of sleep that he’d never trade any day – so of course there had to be a problem.

It was his fault. If he didn’t drink so much the night before, he would have been coherent enough to perform his little before bed ritual. After the sun had risen, he’d make sure his ability was as stable as he could manage it before officially passing out. Last night, he didn’t even bother to change his clothes, his body completely limp over his cot without any care in the whole world. The way, he’d argue, that it should be. The first thing that initially began to stir him into consciousness was the almost frantic calling of a woman. It was close in proximity, but Jiyong didn’t want to believe it had anything to do with him. His eyes squeezed shut, and his nose wrinkled uncomfortably, but he stayed at rest for another couple of seconds before the smell of burning fibers finally hit his nostrils.

“Nn…” he groaned, swinging his arm from the end of the tent where it was burning to the other side of him, causing drops of the acidic liquid to fall on other things in his tent, the items reacting quickly with a sizzle sound before fading out again. The second call of the woman made his eyes open finally, the light from the hole in his tent bearing more damage than it normally would, rendering him nearly blind until his eyes adjusted to the gaping hole as well as the burned cot and metal.

“Shit,” he murmured, crankiness coating his tone and his expression as he threw himself out of bed. The acid became more eager now that its host was awake, pouring rapidly onto the cotton and further damaging the surface. Holes in his tent were being made, making his ‘home’ look more like a decorative piece for the circus rather than a place to stay in. He glanced around for his pot of water that he was supposed to refill, instinctively placing his hands in it only to watch the acid burn through that surface as well. Panic rose in him, his eyes wide now as he turned his head toward the woman who woke him up in the first place.

His tent practically destroyed, his hands continuing the damage with every step he took, he really had no way of coming back from this kind of mistake. Even worse, he had a spectator. One that looked confused, scared, and definitely didn’t know to get away considering they were still standing in the same spot. He couldn’t push her, God forbid she got even a little too close, so he had to pick an alternative. “Are you crazy? Move back,” he told her, honestly surprised that she didn’t make a run for it as soon as she saw the initial damage in the first place. Then again, this was the circus, and some of the members were too curious for their own good, Jiyong included. 

Seconds were passing and the acid was getting more and more intolerant, the substance beginning to numb his fingertips as he tried desperately to gain some kind of control. It had been a year since he first started to practice, but he admittedly got very lazy once he came to the conclusion that getting better wasn’t an option. It was, of course, but there was a certain amount of motivation that he needed to continue his practices, which he was far from.