ILLUMINATE ME

[m-ythical]

              M-YTHICAL   //   indie   &   semi-selective  account  for   various characters from various series.   crossover,   au,   &   oc  friendly.   must  be  over  18+  to  interact.   please  read  the  guidelines  for  further  details,   𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

[in-yeon]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 of the donghae university, at the end of the white hall paved with beautiful quartzite porcelain tiling & a shower of powdery light that spills from a long row of knife-shaped windows. inside, sae-byeok sits alone on the chair. he is wearing an elegant navy-blue uniform that draws attention to his slim waistline & pale complexion, almost glowing in the afternoon sunlight as he leans ever so slightly over the cello, smoothly gliding a wooden bow across the sterling strings. his dark hair sways with each & every graceful motion, sweeping right over the half-lidded eyes which do not look up as the music room door slides open & welcomes not a classmate but a visitor, only for the sombre melody to wash over them. it is slow & hauntingly intimate, painting rainy autumn days & romance in mind. ❝ . . . . ❞

@m-ythical || ( dan. )

[m-ythical]

ancient scriptures spoke of angels who would one day walk the earth, their very hands weaving symphonies more beautiful than any soul was made to bear. to see one was to be undone, to fall hopelessly in the radiance of their grace, and so it came to be. dan dared not interrupt further, he instead allowed his existence to get consumed by the music's captivity. intentional or not, he had been fated to such divine beauty ─ an applause is all he could have afforded once the sound came to an end.

" with talent like that, i am surprised you are confined to this box. " his cerulean gaze fed on the mythical beauty's countenance voraciously, while the senses were still entangled in the echoes of the otherworldly tune. thus, not to impose, the detective remained patient by the open door, after all it would've been a shame to intrude in a holy ground.

[in-yeon]

𝐒𝐀𝐄-𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑 to the other side of seoul, that seemingly bottomless underbelly full of organized crime, poverty & red-light districts always awaiting their next gullible fool to either scam or exploit. the many scattered syringes & empty condom packets litter just about every dark corner of the winding streets & yet, here he is, a mere university student taking his first hesitant step past the threshold of dancing lights. ❝ y──.. ya...! ❞ he calls out, clearly concerned. the long elegant fingers coiling a bit tighter around the leather strap of his leather satchel, ❝ 저기… 괜찮아?! ❞

he really shouldn't linger, but seeing a younger man sprawled on the dirty ground & bleeding makes sae-byeok move before he can logically think. after all, this could be a trap: a petty little snare for the kind-hearted, but... too late. the expensive satchel hits the stone slab of concrete as he kneels by nishi, yanking off the grey scarf from own swan-like neck to quickly wrap around the visibly injured thigh. it's not ideal, but it's something.

@m-ythical || ( nishi. )

[m-ythical]

it felt hot, familiar, a sensation he knew all too well ─ pain; nishi stirred beyond what could've been described as a concussion, waking to someone patching him limb from an unwanted but expected wound. he propped against shaky forearms that inclined his torso whilst the elbows locked under his form, allowing his glazed eyes to see a fickle stream of blood pushing against the damaged suit. ' shit! no no no, huh - ? ' his gaze scurried aside to the stranger, was he patching him up?

" what the hell are you doing!? " his lungs shouted through clenched teeth and still lips, coming across as all too surreal. " the suit's already patching it up, do you think you're scarf's going to do a better job?! " it was, even if he'd like to deny it. nishi's breath hitched as the open wound rebuked him with stings, and despite giving no explanation as to how he was talking without opening his mouth, his eyes scurried to the surroundings.

they flicked over dark alleys and shuttered windows, fallen trash bins and other dirtier objects, every shadow twisting his nerves tighter. if the guy in front of him dared to even pull a wrong muscle, just one. " get out of here if you don't want yourself getting killed!!! " whatever attacked him before took a liking to burrow deep into its hosts, it could be anyone or anything.

[s-talking]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃, the little killer of mississippi continues to stare at him the way one does when looking at a stranger on the street or a peculiar insect: in complete silence & without moving. he does not reach out to shake the offered hand, being already so close to the investigator that each breath feels like an invisible kiss shared between their lips & a single step forward is all it would take to make it real, but envy doesn't lean further or step away. he merely continues to smile at the other, reading insecurity, bewilderment, hesitation, & far too many scrambled thoughts underneath all that sophisticated charm...

much like a male rabbit caught with it's belly facing up.

it's adorable. the little killer was always weak for the more submissive types & for just a second he imagines himself gutting dan, having already pin-pointed every vulnerable spot in reach. oh mercy, it would've been so laughably easy too with the book festival at hand & their forms already hidden within the darker shadows of the looming terrace, although, where's the rush? why not indulge a little longer... ?

placing a free black nailed hand against the wood, envy boxes the investigator against own door & at long last answers, speaking to him as softly as before, ❝ somewhat... yes. ❞ it's all deceptively meek & passive, like a spider slowly weaving a web around its anxious prey; ❝ are you... family? ❞ even the broken english is part of the act, followed by the way those dark & terrible eyes lower their long lashes, becoming half-lidded in false beguile.

[m-ythical]

Charming, to say the least. Dan could not suppress a bemused chuckle, breaking eye contact to instead regard the stained wooden floor beneath them. Many beasts roam freely, awaiting judgement - but this one? This one stood apart. It was rare to find someone so quick to wield apathy to such a disturbing extent at first glance, yet coy enough to play theatrics with expertise. There was never a language barrier to begin with between them - only a calculated move to earn trust; the stranger came closer than Dan had wanted.

" Family. . . ? " His were the eyes of a judge who had condemned before, and he'd do so again. The very same gaze met Envy's own, but unlike before where it had been meek and amicable, Dan's eyes were shaped to match the delighted smile on his countenance. " Ah, not in the slightest. " Not a moment too soon, his hand - dexterously, fluidly, practiced - reached under his coat, revealing a card holster that once flipped, revealed him to be a detective.

" I am here on business, and since we can understand one another. . . " Dan craned his head aside ever so softly, almost invoking playful mockery. " I'd like to ask you some questions. "

[s-talking]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓, & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆. despite the smothering temperature of summertime, many mississippians still gathered around their local bookstores & libraries to celebrate story-telling as well as many other forms of literature. back in south korea, min-jun was never particularly interested in books, until new eden. you'd be surprised how much five years can change a person. he now sees poetry in almost every little thing, especially butterflies. tall... elegant... handsome... & sweetly curled lips.... this one does not belong here, envy muses while standing across from own house & the neighbourhood street, a brown paper bag nestled in arm: a souvenir brought from the nearby bookstore. through the black tinted lenses of his saint laurent sunglasses, the young serial killer stares straight at dan like a curious viper. cold. detached. thinking. it's been a long while since his little abode got any visitors, but alas, butterflies always go where the wind takes them even if said place happens to be the spider's own web.

glancing down the quiet street with a slight turn of head, envy scans the white houses, the glistening birch trees, & then dan again who is still knocking at the old door oh so politely, almost, audaciously insistent. definitely not a mailman & most certainly not a salaryman, but did uncertainty ever stop him from acting... ? no, no it didn't. envy budges from the spot as quietly as he stood, with ghostly elegance & that certain charm of someone who either demands your attention or ensnares it.

before dan can possibly react or least notice, the little killer of mississippi looms directly behind him 'pon the gloomy patio, his tall silhouette blocking out the sunlight just as he leans in & murmurs in a quiet voice laced with a soft, korean lilt, ❝ 여긴 오래전에 버려진 곳이에요… 알죠? ❞ a gentle smile. ❝ 여기엔… 유령밖에 없을 거예요… ❞

[m-ythical]

the crown of his knuckle halted but a breath from the door’s hardened surface. to be caught off guard so easily; was it mere carelessness, or a lack of touch with foundational experience? hard to say. from such a vulnerable angle, dan simply felt unsafe. the pale cerulean of his eyes searched instinctively for a reflective trace, finding solace in a shard of glass tilted just so beside the entry door, half-hidden by a withered flower pot. tall, lithe, young, whoever lingered behind him carried youth in their outline, and from such a distance dan could glimpse partially the stranger's countenance.

“ oh ? ” he, too, would play his part upon the stage. the contour of his lips curved into a welcoming smile as his eyes lowered their curtain, his silhouette seizing the opportunity to turn and face the figure who had swallowed his personal space. “ ah… forgive me. it seems you’ve caught me unprepared. ” his hand rose in a light gesture — amiable, a little careless to feign idiocy when it came to understand the stranger's dialect, a good lure even for the less forgiving. “ we haven’t been introduced, have we? of course not, and do you speak english by chance? ” the words left him warm, courteous, maybe almost clumsy in tone, but every syllable was deliberately set to disarm the stranger's guard. the investigator understood he was at an odd position to gamble after all.

when opportunity presented itself, dan's concealed eyes birthed a reveal of almost translucent cerulean that kindly sought the stranger's countenance. it is then that he understood, be it logically or not, that what faced him was no simple person - it was something. . . enigmatic. those eyes were as simple as black in color, untouchable, unyielding, a tint that could not be pervaded by any other hue; cold, almost inhumane.

[m-ythical]

a man's silhouette paused at the edge of the cracked sidewalk, staring at the house whose presence seemed to swallow the street whole. Its paint was peeling, windows vacant, the front gate hanging loose on one hinge whilst the post box remained crooked as though it had given up decades ago. he had followed this trail from a country to another; undying red flowers, poppies, dog teeth — and every clue had led him here, to a place that made no connection.

the neighborhood was quiet and worn due to local government body negligence, but the house he was looking at was different. it loomed like a wound in the row of less modest homes, silent, unwelcoming, with no signs of life to it. no lights, no furniture visible through the grimy panes, nothing to really suggest it had been lived in recently. yet the detective felt it: intuitive instinct luring him as if this was the place.

he took a slow step forward, hand brushing the edge of the gate. it's prolonged rusty squeal inadvertently announced his intrusion, not that it mattered, he felt watched after all so he proceeded to come close to the front door. a gloved knuckle met the surface of old wood, letting a distinctive knock reverberate through the house's innards.

@s-talking