Breathe In. Breathe Out.

❝ Leave me alone. I was alone anyway. Kwon Jiyong | 27 | Firefly

[tloumsoo-deactivated20160131]

→ zutter.

    [[ ➳;; ]]

[jiyongxtlou]

    Jiyong sighs heavily, the cool temperature biting at his cheeks and the breeze rustling his hair. It’s one of his last gathering outings of the year and, hopefully, he can drag home some rabbit meat or something along with him. It’s been a while since he actually went out and hunted for his dinner, and he figures this is as good of an excuse as any to do so.

    It’s quiet; the only things he hears for the most part are the occasional crunch of something beneath his boot or the quiet rattle of the arrows in the quiver, and it makes it easier to listen for minuscule sounds of movement elsewhere. Animals, infected, other humans-- the longer he lived on this cursed planet the louder they all seemed to become in comparison to himself.

    His case is only proven with the distant scream of a runner punctuating the air-- followed by another, and another, until it sounds like a veritable pack of them. His eyes narrow in the direction the sound is coming from, trying to listen and gauge directly how far away they were.

    If he were entirely sane, he’d leave whatever or whoever those monsters were after to their own devices and save his own hide. But, he thinks, how long until they head his direction if he simply leaves them to wander? That, and he hasn’t been considered entirely sane for a while now.

    Swift, silent footsteps and deft hands carry him across the terrain and scale up whatever falls within their reach in order for him to gain a vantage point on the situation, and when he finally gets the chance to take in what exactly is going on, he frowns.

    This kid is fresh meat, he thinks, watching him pathetically flail around in an attempt to defend himself. It’s a wonder that he’s managed to survive as long as he has, Jiyong thinks. Regardless, it’s not his place to just leave him to die. He hardly looks dangerous, and for now that’s enough to get Jiyong’s sympathy.

    One by one in quick succession the runners are taken out, falling around the boy with arrows sticking out of their skulls, lying lifeless on the ground, as well as a particularly stubborn clicker that had managed to hear the commotion and wander too close. 

    Jiyong frowns; he’d used far more arrows than he’d anticipated, and now he has to lower himself to ground level to retrieve them from the dead. Unfortunately, that meant getting close and personal with the boy as well, something he could have stood without doing.

    “Go home, kid,” he murmurs after he slides down to the earth below. He passes by the stranger with little regard on his path to collect his weapons. “It’s too dangerous out here for you to try and fight back like that. Whatever that was.”

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; cheshire grins.

[mixsehun-deactivated20171026]

    [[ ➳;; ]]

[jiyongxtlou]

    It’s fun, he thinks. Watching this brat squirm. His eyes keep shifting everywhere and the bat slung over his shoulder hasn’t stopped moving once, and it makes Jiyong’s own eyes gleam with amusement. If he had to find himself holed up in this place, he may as well have fun with whatever prey decided to unknowingly be tossed into the dragon’s lair.

    “Tell that to all of my undoubtedly satisfied,” he draws the word out, as if a physical manifestation of how impressed he is which this child attempting to ‘act tough’, “customers.” Jiyong pauses-- rolls his shoulders, lets his head lean to the other side, purses his lips in faux-thought. “Or, well, even the unsatisfied ones. Though it’d be a bit difficult to hear from them anymore.” He lets the implication speak for itself.

    “Regardless of whether or not I just sell ‘shiny shit’, I don’t sell to kids,” Jiyong drawls. His chin is back in the palm of his hand, and he schools his face to look as though he’d rather be napping. Though, really, it doesn’t take much schooling in order to accomplish something like that. “Why don’t you go drag your mommy down here and I’ll have a talk with her instead. Sound good?”

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; literary discourse.

[tlouxkrystal-blog]

[[ ➳;; ]]

[jiyongxtlou]

    Jiyong huffs, indignant, in an attempt to keep up his harmless act as he continues to take in the factors around him. He tires to do math in his head of just how fast he would have to move if she decided to loose her arrow towards him, but just because he’s an intellectual doesn’t mean he’s ever found himself decent at anything other than literature.

    “Surely you know how selfish that is,” he replies, voice like silver in the same way it transforms when he’s attempting to strike a deal. Maybe if he can bend this woman the way he wants her, he’ll be able to walk away from this with the upper hand. He hopes so, at least-- even with the name he’s garnered for himself, there are still only so many ways one can get out of a sticky situation.

    “How far out of the city have you traveled? Do you know how many libraries still exist?” With a gentle creak of the spine he closes the book of Neruda’s poems, gently placing it in his bag and makes a show of sliding his finger along the spines of the other novels along the shelf before pulling out another one. “Not many, I can tell you that. People take books for granted and use them as fire starters.”

    He keeps the woman in his sights through the corner of his eyes, though still flips through the new book in his hands as he learns about whatever may be kept within. This one is also poems, though he didn’t manage to catch the author on the first few pages and it fails to list his name on those after the fact.

    “It’s tragic, really.”

[jiyongxtlou]

     ➳;; tracker.

owe;;     -reply to hyunwoo     -reply to myungsoo

waiting on;;     -reply from jin     -reply from big seunghyun     -reply from sehun*     -reply from krystal*     -reply from jimin     -reply from little seunghyun

plotting with;;     -you ????

[jiminxtlou-deactivated20200621]

done in dark, brought to light.

[jiminxtlou-deactivated20200621]

    [[ ➳;; ]]

[jiyongxtlou]

    Jiyong is less than impressed when he hears the younger fiddling with whatever he’s managed to get his hands on-- even less so when he hears the definitive sound of something breaking, but he schools his annoyance inwards for the time being. He’d most likely be able to fix whatever it was anyway; he didn’t have too many valuables actually stored down here unless they were absolutely needed. The rest of them were hidden away until the right buyer decided to flit under his nose.

    The cigarette in his mouth loosens him; the posture he’d held for far too long that day was slowly oozing out of him, grandeur along with it, and he slipped back into the familiar slinky exterior he kept wrapped around himself when out on the hunt. Some days he wonders how long he can keep up this double-edged life, how he can handle the sudden whiplash of deconstructing himself and putting himself back together in a matter of minutes, though most of the time he tries not to think about it. There’s no use in thinking about it-- not when it’s the best option he has at keeping himself alive and flourishing.

    Still nonplussed, he grabs the cigarette pack out of Jimin’s hand as it appears with little more than an eyebrow raise and an intentional puff of smoke towards the younger’s face, ashes falling off the hot cherry at the end of the stick in his mouth to the floor below with the movement. He pockets the pack before holding his bad habit between his fingers again to make it easier to speak.

    “The prick probably just thought he could get away with it. I don’t know why I ever let the guy walk out of here without paying the whole fuckin’ price up front.” He can feel his anger rising again at the thought, tries to tamp it back down with another drag but can still feel the stiffening in his shoulders. “You know what it’s like to be small, kid. Everyone thinks your a pushover.”

    The heels of his boots click against the cement as he turns back to an old set of office cabinets and he flicks through a few folders with his free hand before finally producing what he’d been looking for. At least this had been put away where it was supposed to be. Crossing over to the desk where Jimin was sitting, he flattened the dilapidated map in front of them and pointed at a spot to the north east, just along the border of the military district. The fuck was lucky the military liked him so much, being that close to the border and having weapons like that. It only served to grind Jiyong’s nerves further; the likelihood that he was giving weapons to the military, of all people, lit an angry fire inside of him.

    “This is where he is. He has around thirty of my guns-- pistols, revolvers, rifles, the whole fuckin’ lot.”

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; cheshire grins.

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxsehun:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    When Jiyong glances up to his new company standing in the doorway he’s far from impressed, even further than enthused, and hardly bothers to move a muscle from his relaxed spot at the desk. One hand comes up to prop up his chin, elbow perched on the arm rest, a bored frown on his face. From a glance it’s hard to determine how old this new person is (it’s hard to determine most people, really, with how worn those born to this wasteland become), but from their immediate attitude Jiyong decides they’re a kid anyway.

    “Not entirely,” he drawls right back, too lazy to give a damn. His eyes catch on the bat slung over the kid’s shoulder but it hardly intimidates him; his revolver is still at his side, tucked away under the desk so that it’s out of sight but still in easy enough reach should he need it. If the kid gets handsy there’s always the option of a friendly warning as well, though he’d rather not use bullets if he doesn’t have to. They’re loud and attention grabbing, though not in the way he prefers himself to be.

    “I’m only hear to wait on someone else.” Jiyong waves his hand, as if in dismissal, and the rings on his fingers glisten against the light that manages to bleed through into the building, and he crosses one leg over the other though not removing them from their propped position. The kid’s glance towards his boots hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Jiyong sat doing his best in an attempt to read exactly what this boy was thinking coming to a place like this, eyeing him the way he was.

    “So unless you spit out what you want to say quick, you’re gonna get kicked out, kid.”

[beomgyu01]

I was always alone.

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; literary discourse.

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxkrystal:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    Jiyong freezes, if only momentarily, as his sudden company’s voice reaches his ears. Inwardly he curses, though he’s rather proud of how neutral he manages to make himself appear on the outside. It’s better to keep one’s cool in this sort of situation rather than freezing up, rather than letting any one person believe they have the upper hand instead of him. He doesn’t dare move; while he may attempt to act big the other’s bow is already drawn and he’s halfway from the end of the aisle with no available cover, and as rash as he can be in combat he’s not stupid.

    So, instead, he makes a show of his eyes sliding to the side to observe her, lifts his head while doing so with an almost bored look plastered onto his face, keeps the book open in his other hand and his fingers splayed on top of the pages as if he were only keeping his place for the moment. There’s no way he can get to his own bow and have it ready in time and the knife hidden away in his boot would hardly be of any help, so he sharpens his face and hopes he looks intimidating.

    “I don’t really take kindly to people interrupting my reading, either,” he replies in an attempt at nonchalance. “Libraries are public spaces, aren’t they?” Technically, most places after the fall of humanity were now public spaces, but still. “Anyone is allowed in public spaces, aren’t they? People should be allowed to grace their eyes every once in a while with words.”

    He closes his eyes, against his better judgement, and draws the rest of the poem beneath his fingers from memory.

    ‘We the mortals touch the metals,     the wind, the ocean shores, the stones,     knowing they will go on, inert or burning,     and I was discovering, naming all these things:     it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.’

[tlouxsoohyuk-deactivated2016011]

[ Tired Eyes, Silent Lips ]

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxsoohyuk:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    Jiyong digs into his pockets with a nod, the quiet clanking with whatever else was lining his pockets jingling in his ears as he searches for the item in question. “Yeah, I got them.” A beat later his fingers close around them and he pulls the ring out, tossing them in the air before they land back in his palm. “I had to do some crazy sneaking to get around the guard that had them though. Had to wait forever for him to fall asleep so i could snatch them, so you probably don’t want to be waving them around too much.”

    He isn’t surprised with how mellow Soohyuk is-- the older man tended to be a sort of steady current that Jiyong had come to be normalized with. He didn’t like the thought of depending on anyone else; it left a sour taste in his mouth. That didn’t mean that companionship was completely off the table though, and with how crass Jiyong could be it wasn’t often that he found others that could stand to be around him and that he could even stand to be around in turn.

    “What do you want them for, anyway? I heard there are infected down there sometimes when border patrol can’t keep their shit together, man. You really don’t need to go down there.”

[jiminxtlou-deactivated20200621]

done in dark, brought to light.

[jiyongxtlou]

jiminxtlou:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    “If it’s so god damn cute you should have gotten here earlier and nabbed the fuckin’ thing for yourself before it pissed all over my backroom floor,” Jiyong huffs, snatching the pack out of the air and shaking it (he can hear the gaps where it isn’t a full pack, but beggars can’t be choosers and with how limited the supply is he can’t really complain) before opening it and heading back to rifle in one of his drawers for some matches.

    He lets the kid sit and have a taste of his own medicine as he hunts for them (really, they had been here the other day and he knew he was more organized than this), the silence between them only being punctuated with his own silent huff as he abandons one drawer for another and the rattle of the contents within being disturbed. When his long fingers finally come back up with the second half of his bad habit he snaps the drawer shut and pulls out a cigarette. A beat later there’s a content sigh as it takes light.

    Sure enough the pack hadn’t been full, but as much as Jiyong has attempted to convince himself that a long drag would only dwindle his supply that much faster it’s also that much more satisfying. His shoulders relax and his eyes slip closed and for a singular moment in time he has complete peace.

    “Only because you keep finding these,” he finally replies as he turns around, voice infinitely smoother than it had been a moment ago. Jiyong’s been in and out of half the dilapidated buildings in this city, safe zone or otherwise (and that’s saying something, if old maps of Seoul are anything to go by), and he still can hardly ever get his hands on a pack. “However the fuck you keep finding them.”

    Back to business, though. A long trail of smoke filters through his nostrils and for a moment make him look almost like his namesake before he exhales, and a small plume of smoke pours from his mouth. “I have a guy out near the military district that isn’t paying up and if I go shit might get ugly that close to the border. I want my guns back.”

[247silvia-deactivated20180601]

Busted Idiot ; Jiyong+Victory

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxvictory:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    Jiyong snorts as he follows the younger man the rest of the way inside the building, plopping down on the examination bed without much prompting, not failing to notice the younger girl in the room. He vaguely remembers her from one of her parents ducking into his shop one day and wonders what’s wrong with her before Seunghyun is back to nagging him. He’s heard this spiel a million times before and this time is no different, though he has half a mind to yank at Seunghyun’s ear in protest; Jiyong is the older of the two, after all. If the unnatural bend to his finger wasn’t smarting so badly he probably would have by now.

    He doesn’t try very heard to justify himself as the younger man rants, simply shrugging in response. It’s not like he chose to get himself beat up. It’s just that there had been one more goon than he had thought ere was and they had jumped him right as he was snapping the other guy’s arm, and the screams that came out of him as the bone snapped had hidden the approach of his little friend. “They were bothering me, that’s all. You know how much shit people like to give me about my size. Thought that just ‘cause I was smaller than them they could try an’ jump me, or whatever.”

    The sting of the alcohol makes Jiyong hiss, makes him flinch at the none-too-gentle pressure as Seunghyun presses in with it to clean the first wound he’d picked to work on. “Ow, ow! Chill out, you little fuck!” It fucking burns-- when he’s fighting, or when he’s limping back inside the district, he can generally live with pain. When he’s in the middle of a fight he can ignore it enough, adrenaline rushing through his veins. By the time he’s dragging himself back into relative safety, anything he may have felt already threatens to lull into a softer though no more pleasant ache. It’s the suddenness of the sting that gets him every time, makes him want to pout like a child. And he does.

    “Hey, if it weren’t me it’d be someone else,” Jiyong huffs. The needle doesn’t hurt as much as the alcohol-- he’s been stabbed enough times that needles don’t really bother him that much any more. “They’d get used either way.”

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; On the Pulse.

[tlouseunghyun]

[[ ➳;; ]]

[jiyongxtlou]

    “Thank fuck,” Jiyong huffs. He feels like a child, being hauled around like this. His entire life has been a battle of being taken seriously because of his stature. He hates how small he is, especially when compared to the soldier he’s currently slung over. He so much thinner and by association so much more frail, regardless of the strength that actually lies hidden within his limbs, simply because whatever higher power there may be decided to make him so narrow. If he would have had to have gotten into a scuffle with this man, there’s no telling what might have happened. Granted, it only means that speed is on his side, but when one’s strength simply can’t match up it’s hard to tell if it would even matter.

    “Not to be rude or anything,” he lies, head still tilted away from Seunghyun. In the distance he can hear the faint crunching of boots on the ground, can hear voices, and is thankful this will be over soon enough. He has an ego to uphold, and every minute he spends on Seunghyun’s back is slowly crushing it. “But this isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

    At least he has a small moment to interrogate; inwardly, he curses at himself. He’d had this entire time to do so, but instead he’d found himself simmering in his own hatred. Jiyong berates himself-- he should have been using this time to better his knowledge, regardless of how actually useful it would be. He wasn’t exactly going to get ‘secret information’ out of this man by simply being the effective ‘damsel in distress’, nor was he able to get anything without seeming suspicious right off the bat. Regardless, information is information, and Jiyong isn’t known for making use of anything and everything he can get his hands on for nothing.

    “Are there a lot of outposts like this along the borders?” he asks, nodding ahead to the station they were coming up on.

[jiminxtlou-deactivated20200621]

done in dark, brought to light.

[jiyongxtlou]

jiminxtlou:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    There, almost--

    “Fuck!”

    For as many things as Jiyong has dealt with in his lifetime, from hunters to infected, it’s been a while since he’s had this much trouble with anything living or otherwise. He’s tried all manner of tactics save for shooting the thing, but he’d rather not have a bullet ricocheting around in the back room or bust one of his arrows on the concrete floor trying to aim for it.

    Besides-- he likes to think he’s more human, that he still has moral enough, to stay above shooting a stray cat.

    He’s lost count of how many times he’s gone at the thing; no longer is ‘third time’s the charm’ anywhere near applicable, but the stray still hasn’t given up it’s decided new home in the back room. Every time he’s tried to chase it out the door it’s only scampered to a new hiding place or up too high for Jiyong to reach without going back out for a chair or a stool, and hell would freeze over before he left it in here by itself.

    This attempt had been no different. Jiyong had managed to find a broom among the clutter and prodded at the stray where it had perched itself on top of a set of cabinets, but as soon as he had thought he was making progress the mammal only stared down at him and dove behind a stack of boxes.

    Luckily enough, he hopes, they’re close enough to the door to finally chase the fur ball out. He crosses his fingers-- mentally, at least.

    Jiyong thinks the boxes are relatively empty. He hopes they are, prays there’s nothing too valuable within them. Silently, he sneaks up on his prey yet again-- only to hear the animal jump at the sound of another voice in the building. Jiyong curses again, and in one swift movement he takes the broomstick he’s been wielding and topples the tower over before the cat has a chance to hide away again.

    Finally, finally, it darts out of the backroom, through the front of the garage and out of the building, Jiyong quick on its heels with his old boots clacking against the concrete.

    “And stay the fuck out!” he yells after it. Despite the cooling weather he’s found himself warm after stalking the beast in his old fur coat. It’s not exactly pleasing, and his annoyance bleeds through in his voice.

    His new company has not gone unnoticed; simply pushed to the side for a moment in his anger. A few deep breaths later he finally turns to the boy sitting on one of his work tables and huffs out through his nose. 

    “You wouldn’t happen to have scrounged up some cigarettes from anyone, have you? And you should know by now that ass-kissing isn’t gonna get you any brownie points, kid.”

[ Tired Eyes, Silent Lips ]

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxsoohyuk:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    Jiyong sighs from up on his perch, hovering above the people on the street and leaning back against the wall of the next building. He prefers being off the ground; he’s too short otherwise, and the added height lets him scan his surroundings without the height issue of standing on his feet.

    His annoyance is slowly growing; he could have been out hunting or scavenging for another hour with as long as he’s been waiting on Soohyuk. Instead he sits here, sharpening his knife with nothing to go at it with.

    He’s barely been in the Fireflies for a few months now and he’s jumpy, anxious. He’s eager to please, eager to jump at whatever he’s presented with. His friendship with Soohyuk is no different; after so long on his own he’s found someone to look up to, regardless of how similar they are in age.

    Speak of the devil--; “Jesus, you think you could have taken longer?” he huffs, hopping down from his elevated seat. “You’re legs are twice as long as mine, it shouldn’t take you longer than me to get somewhere.”

[bbokssung]

➳;; In a Name

[jiyongxtlou]

tloujin:

[[  ➳;; ]]

    "I don't give a good god damn about your ‘sources’, kid,” he growls. His bow doesn’t move from its position, drawn and at the ready given a moment’s notice. He doesn’t care that the boy has his hands up-- it would mean fuck-all if he could draw his gun as fast as Jiyong could fire an arrow. Granted, not many could do that, but nearing on thirty years of living in this hellscape on a daily basis drains one’s trust of other people.

    He wouldn’t have been so furious if this was his business. That’s what the god damn garage was for; to leave his own flat tucked away a few streets down and out of fucking site. He didn’t want, didn’t need people knowing where the fuck he lived-- he had too many people that would just as eagerly see him dead as find out where he lays his head at night.

    “You’ve heard right. But what the fuck makes you think I’d give you some favour, huh kid?” Jiyong snorts, eyes still narrowed at his intruder. “As if you can just waltz in here and ask for shit when you’re not even supposed to be here?” If he wanted, he could show this kid just how right the rumours were.

    “If you know what’s good for you you’ll forget you were even here, got it? You don’t know where this place is, you don’t know how to get here, and you for-fuckin’-sure don’t know I’m the one that lives here. You understand?”

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; diamond in the rough.

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxhyunwoo:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    There’s very little separating Jiyong’s quote-unquote ‘bedroom’ from the rest of the flat; for the most part the flat is open, enough space for all of his ‘hoard’ as he’s gathered it over the years. Things here aren’t for sale like things in his garage a few streets down that stays open for business-- that is, when he decides to be there. Eventually things make their way down there, but for the most part he keeps them here until he’s ready to part with them. He’s spent more and more time in the garage as of late, as the seasons cool and it becomes more dangerous to stay out of the safety of the districts for days at a time.

    He’s not used to working with people on an every day basis; he’s good at it, yes, good at manipulating and getting what he wants, but it makes him tired. He’d much rather be on his own, out where nature is slowly reclaiming the city, bow in his hand and silence in his ears.

    Which is why when he hears yet another voice, inside his flat, rage quickly rises up within him.

    He’s out of his chair immediately, where he had sunk to try and regather himself, snarl on his lips and fire in his eyes and the temper that trails behind his name biting at his tongue. This is his domain; he has a separate business for a reason. He’s going to have to set up more traps leading up to his home, that’s for sure.

    “What in the fuck are you doing here?” he snarls, ruffled, like a bird trying to intimidate its prey. He’s shorter, again, and he curses whatever higher power that fated him to be this stature. His eyes, sharp, glance down to the watch on his wrist and it only sparks his anger further.

    “And the hell are you doing with my things?”

[jiyongxtlou]

➳;; literary discourse.

[jiyongxtlou]

tlouxkrystal:

[[ ➳;; ]]

    Jiyong adjusts the quiver at his back with a quiet rattle of his arrows, glancing around for signs of anyone lurking about for a moment before going back to his personal mission at hand. His ears stay perked and alert, listening for any sounds of movement as he allows his eyes to scan the book shelves. So far there are no tell-tale sounds of runners or clickers, no clumsy shuffle of hunters, and for the moment he’s in the clear.

    It’s hard to tell how the old library was set up before everything had fallen to shit; some book shelves sit half empty and others are in complete disarray. He can’t find it in him to complain too much though-- it’s a wonder places like this still exist, that they haven’t been completely burned down for warmth and their archives lost to those that couldn’t care less about geniuses from an old world.

    He hunts for familiar names but it’s difficult, titles and author names being worn away with time and abuse from the weather, and his fingers run along book spines in his search. When he finally recognizes an worn name he smiles-- a rarity--, tugging the old novel from the home it’s been sitting in for who knows how long.

    Neruda, he murmurs under his breath with another small smile. It gets a bit lost in translation; he knows the poem wasn’t in Korean originally, but it must be still just as beautiful, he thinks.