Though she was being a minor pain in the ass with the pouting, Miyeon still couldn’t help but admire the rebel, sunglasses and disheveled appearance and all. Whatever the reasoning was, she was one of the few people that didn’t treat her much different despite it all, and for that she was willing to fake herself as much as she could to keep that from changing. “Take it,” She offered with a shrug, sliding the plate in Mirasol’s direction. It was safe to say they were at a point of comfort where eating off each other’s food wasn’t a problem. “I thought you didn’t drive? There isn’t anything really shopping related around here unless we head out.”
The moment food was offered to her, Mirasol began to pick through it. She wasn’t opposed to eating after the other girl; they had done much more intimate things in the past. Bringing a bite to her lips, she offered the other a grin, “Thanks, babe.” There was a pause as she thoughtfully chewed the food, savoring the flavor and hoping that it would help settle her stomach. “What? This place doesn’t have cabs? We can call a car or something, right? If not, it’s a spa day.”
“hungover? pity.” miyeon doesn’t bother to look up from her phone as she gives her condolences. sure, she understands the pain, but that doesn’t mean she’s up to deal with anyone’s whining. after all, it’s not her problem that they don’t know how to handle their liquor without paying for it in the morning. it’s taken years of trial and error and simply shutting the fuck up for her to get to the point where no one can tell, and nothing’s stopping them from doing the same. lips pursed together tightly, she pulls a bottle of pain medicine from her purse and slides it across the table, expression transforming into a faint smile. “take one. go back to your room. drink some water. rest. you’re not gonna feel any better if you’re out here with all this commotion. you’re welcome.” essentially, if they don’t plan on trying their hand at shutting the fuck up, they can direct themselves elsewhere, preferably somewhere far away from the table she’s seated at. she, too, wants to have a morning of peacefulness, and that means taking her breakfast without a side of nausea inducing complaints.
Mirasol tuned in to the other’s words without actually paying much attention, hiding behind a dark pair of shades and a childish pout. Despite her pathetic expression, her company didn’t seem sympathetic, which elicited a small whine. She didn’t want to go back up to her room. She wanted to enjoy the rest of her trip with someone that gave her endless entertainment. With a huff, she picked up the pill bottle, throwing a few back without so much as a sip of water. “I’ll be fine. I just need to sit here for a few more minutes. Eat some breakfast or something,” the rebel muttered, pulling away her shades and giving up with her act. “And then we can go shopping, yeah?”
gaze travels back to the unsuspecting girl, poorly unaware of the two that were currently placing bets and talking behind her back. if he could, he would genuinely find a way to keep her off tracks forever. more for his own safety than hers, though. he doesn’t doubt that she won’t fly off and attack a crowd or something. anything was possible with a lack of hand eye coordination like that “hm, that’s a good point.. however, who knows? maybe she’ll prove us wrong and shatter her arm in such a way that nobody expected. it’s a small chance but still plausible, even though your hypothesis seems much more reasonable and able to happen.” a pause. “touché, i guess i’m going to be seventy five thousand won less richer after this bet.” mingyu doesn’t even hide how impressed he is, because there’s no point.
Mirasol simply gave the other a nod, letting out a yawn as she looked away from the girl. They had wasted too much time talking about her at this point, and she felt that there were much more important things to do with her time. “It’s very rarely that I’m wrong, but I’ll leave you the small chance that she could fuck up,” she stated with a bored shrug of her shoulder. There was a pause, and she briefly considered walking away and leaving it at that, but the mention of money pulled her attention back to him. “Only seventy five thousand?” That was about, what, sixty dollars? He could do better than that. He was a Rich Asshole, after all. “We should have settled on an amount before you realized you were wrong.” She let out a small laugh, as if to make it seem like she was kidding, but her gaze said otherwise.
“an arm.” he repeats more confidently, eyes focusing on her footing once he heard the other’s word. he supposes he can understand why she would think that the skier would twist an ankle but at the same time, disagreed with it. “hm.. i can see where you’re coming from. you’ve got a good eye for footing, but think about it. if she does twist her ankle, people most likely reach out on their hand first to break their fall. and when she goes down at that speed and pushes her falling strength on her arm, she’s so likely to break it.” he smiles, amused at the topic of the conversation that wouldn’t usually be talked about in other places. even so, he doesn’t really want to spare two thoughts about what the disaster of the girl breaks. mingyu’s just curious.
Listening to what the other had to say, Mirasol pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Her gaze studied the victim of their conversation, watching as she struggled to waddle her way toward the slopes. It was pathetic, and she almost wanted to feel bad for the poor girl. Almost, but not quite. “You’re thinking that she’ll be falling forward. In any other tumble, you’d be right, but this is skiing. The first thing you learn when you ski is to fall on your ass, lean to the side and hit the fleshiest part of your body. It’s difficult to fall forward on skis, unless you manage to get them vertical to the ground. Which could happen if she’s in the air, but let’s be honest here, there’s no way she’s getting more than an inch-- three centimeters-- off the ground.” She spoke with the most serious tone of voice, as if this was something that really mattered to her. “If she wants to break her arm, she’s gonna have to slam it into a rock when she falls over to the side or run into a tree.” There was a pause before she shrugged, “Off the skis though, you’d be right.”
“you know, i wonder how much this place costs to rent out. might use it for a birthday bash in the future.” mingyu’s eyes travel across the expense of the area that he can see and he has to admit it’s fairly impressive. just what he’d expect from a ruler who throws a ski trip every year. “but more importantly, i want to bet. how much are you willing to bet that the person over there – yes that one with the awful hair – is going to break an arm while going down the skiing slope? i look forward to watching that disaster.”
The other’s voice in her ear felt like unnecessary background noise, dark eyes instead focusing on the groups of people running around in the snow. The cold weather had never fascinated her, growing up in New York with a blizzard each winter. The way that those around her seemed to flock toward the ski slopes caused a smirk, wondering just how many of them would fall flat on their faces. Breaking through her thoughts, she finally trailed her gaze over to her company at the mention of a bet. If there was anything she was good at, it was predicting disaster. “An arm?” Mirasol repeated quietly, eyes following his own and settling on the subject of their conversation, “Nah. Look at her footing. She’s bound to twist an ankle and land on her ass. Not much there to protect her from a fall, so she’s lucky there’s enough snow for it.”
“yikes,” there’s a quick inhale of breath as he enters his room; half full of his guests, and half full of people he don’t know. grabbing a glass of something (probably a strong mix of liquor. he can tell by just a whiff) from the bar, he sits next to the other. “is it bad that i’m late to my own party?” he drawls.
Mirasol hadn’t cared exactly who was throwing a party. She showed up only for the promise of free drinks, and had already downed three shots by the time she felt someone sitting next to her. Her gaze hardly shifted over to him, taking in his presence only peripherally. His words registered slightly over the music, and she gave him a half-assed shrug, “It’s your party, you can cry if you want to.”
“I never said I’d sit in the hotel room the whole time, I’m just not interested in getting blackout drunk for a week straight. I only want time away from the cesspool of stupidity that is the city of Daejeon.” It was often difficult to please Yenni, since she typically looked for errors and held high expectations purely to keep others on their toes, but spending a week in a hotel didn’t sound all that bad to her. She’d be choosing the best of the best– why go through all that research and payment just to spend more time outside than in? “How considerate, yet insulting for them to keep your size in mind when they decide to scramble your brains up like an egg for not talking. Water is a scarce resource, you know, have to cut back where you can.” She couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, always finding amusement in Mirasol’s shortcomings. “I’m never going to get over the lack of communication in this family. No one tells me shit anymore and I’m tired of it,” Yenni protested, a childish pout on her lips. Next thing she knew, her mom would suddenly be married and even the landlord would find out before her. Sure, being thousands of miles away from home did make it difficult to keep in constant touch, but it still bugged the shit out of her that she was always the last to find out anything. “Better? That’s– subjective. We could, but I’m letting you pick, because I don’t really care. Let’s go to Fiji, then.”
“If you’re not getting drunk, then there’s hardly any point in vacationing,” Mirasol replied with a shrug, sharing the logic that she knew the other wouldn’t agree with. That was her philosophy for everything. If alcohol could be factored into a situation, it absolutely should be. There were never any exceptions. “I’d prefer a bathtub to a kiddie pool. If I die in a tub made of plastic, I’m gonna be furious,” she stated with a small laugh and a shrug. Now that she was half way across the globe, she could joke about her situation. But the moment she stepped foot back in New York, she knew she’d be worried. “Just promise me that, when I am killed, you’ll work the case and put the assholes on death row.” The other’s pout made her laugh, shaking her head slightly, “Maybe if you went out of your way to talk to them more often, they’d tell you more.” Hearing Yenni agree to her location of choice made the trip suddenly seem real, and she lit up at the promise of Fiji, “No shit? You know I’ve always wanted to go!”
Yenni let out a scoff at how quick Mirasol was to abandon her work despite the fact that she’d just pulled it out. In the end she could only speak for herself, but it was safe to say that the both of them were tired of studying, and though they were so close to the end goal, they wanted nothing more than to quit. “I don’t even want to party. I just need to get out of here.” What could she say, university life has only made her more boring and ‘responsible’. Being flooded with work from two of the most strenuous majors at the school often meant she had to choose between her grades and a night of fun, and it was obvious which her choice was. “Well she’s not paranoid this time, she just connected the dots together. I agree, it’s probably nothing. But it also very well could be something, and you don’t want to find that out when they’ve got you tied up in a kiddy pool with loose wires dangling in it.” She shrugged, reaching for another bite of her bagel as she spoke. “Still could’ve liked a bit of notice before having this shit shoved on me, but that’s not the point. We still need to figure out where to go.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave the other a childish pout. How could they go on vacation and not party? Sure, sprinkling in one or two spa days, but the rest should be reserved for non-stop drinking. That was the whole point of a vacation, wasn’t it? “Fine, I’ll party it up while you sit around in a hotel room,” Mirasol stated with a shrug, replacing her pout with a smile. In reality, no matter what they did, she was sure they’d have fun. “If my killer puts me in a kiddie pool, I’m gonna be pissed. At least have some class about it, you know?” She leaned back further into her seat, ignoring how hungry she was at the sight of seeing her sister eat. “It’s been like six months already, get the fuck over it. Your life is better when I’m around anyway. We could literally go anywhere we want. We’ve got passports, and you’ve got unlimited funds. Let’s fucking go to Fiji or something!”
Yenni let out a disinterested grunt in response. With the textbooks sprawled about in front of her, the last thing she wanted to talk about was her studying– not unless it involved getting her the answers, which clearly wasn’t happening at the moment. “Haven’t put my pencil through my skull yet, so not too bad.” Blunt and excessively graphic, just how she always liked it. As she found herself pulled from the work in front of her, she decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a short break. The more she stared at the pages worth of bullet points, the more she could feel herself slowly going insane. “We need to go on vacation. I guess not to New York, since you think you’re gonna get whacked or something, but somewhere. I’m sick of seeing the same people day in and day out.”
“We can chalk that up to a small success, then,” Mirasol joked, not in any way phased by the gruesome words of her god sister. As soon as she realized that the other was taking a break, she jumped at the opportunity to abandon her own work. She might be good at studying, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Leaning back in her seat, she stretched her legs out in front of herself, “I could use a vacation. We need to get out of this town and party. Everything’s getting so boring here.” The quip about being whacked made her laugh, a small shake of her head following, “Mama’s nuts. I mean, yeah, it was totally murder, but that doesn’t mean they’re coming for me. You know how paranoid she gets.”
1. Describe the character’s height and build. Are they heavyset, thin, short, rangy?
Mirasol is petite and very short, standing at only 5′0″ (152.4 cm) and weighing 110 lbs (50 kg). Chances are, she is much shorter than everyone she meets, but when she wears heels, it is difficult to tell.
2. Describe their posture. Do they carry themselves well or do they slouch?
She carries herself very well, and has a confident walk. Some might think that she’s constantly walking on a catwalk because her steps can be seductive at times.
3. How is their health? Are they fit or out of shape? Any illnesses or conditions? Any physical disabilities?
Despite how small she is, she is extremely strong and fit. While she doesn’t necessarily work to take care of her body, she maintains a very slim figure. Her liver and lungs are not in the best shape considering how often she drinks and smokes, but aside from that, she is surprisingly healthy.
4. How do they move? Are they clumsy, graceful, tense, fluid?
Mirasol moves like she is about to conquer the entire world with heavy steps and her head held high. She commands every room that she walks into, and is quite graceful about her movement aside from the occasional stomping when she’s irritated.
5. Describe their complexion. Dark, light, clear, scarred?
Her skin is very clear and tanned, which causes her to stand out a bit around campus. She has quite a few scars on her hands that were a result of getting into fights, and some faded ones on her arms and legs.
6. Describe their hair: color, texture, style.
Mirasol has naturally dark, thick, curly hair. In the past, she has bleached it a dirty blonde, as well as dark brown, but her favorite is when it’s black. Most of the time, her hair is a mess of curls, but when she has the time and patience, she will style it differently.
7. Does the character have any other noteworthy features?
She has a butterfly tattoo on the back of her neck that is extremely noticeable when her hair is lifted to one side, or is tied up.
8. What is the character’s wardrobe like? Casual, dressy, utilitarian? Bright colors, pastels, neutrals? Is it varied, or do they have six of the same suit?
Mirasol’s wardrobe mostly consists of black, leather clothing. It is usually very revealing in some aspect, and tight fitting. Accessory wise, she is attracted to gold jewelry of any kind. She often wears very high heels to make her seem taller.
Here is a lookbook for her style.
9. Do their clothes fit well? Do they seem comfortable in them?
Her outfits are extremely tight, and many would think that she is uncomfortable in her clothing, but she is actually very comfortable with it. It makes her feel good, so she doesn’t mind if it’s a little too skin tight.
SPEECH
1. What does this character’s voice sound like? High-pitched, deep, hoarse?
Her voice is a little on the deep side for a woman, but isn’t deep enough that it’s off-putting in any way.
2. How do they normally speak? Loud, soft, fast, evenly? Do they talk easily, or do they hesitate?
She is always very loud when she talks. When speaking a language she isn’t completely fluent in, she speaks slowly and draws out her words, sometimes on purpose to give herself more time to think about what comes next. If she is speaking English or Spanish, her words are very quick, which might confuse non-native speakers.
3. Does the character have a distinct accent or dialect? Any individual quirks of pronunciation? Any, like, you know, verbal tics?
When she speaks Korean, it is very clear that she is not a native speaker. Her pronunciation is a little off, and she might even switch to a different language if she doesn’t know the correct word in Korean. When she speaks English, she has a thick Spanish accent on some words.
4. What language(s) do they speak, and with how much fluency?
Mirasol is completely fluent in both English and Spanish, and she is most comfortable speaking them. In terms of semi-fluency, she can speak Korean, Mandarin Chinese, and Tagalog moderately well.
5. Do they switch languages or dialects in certain situations?
When she is angry or shocked, she usually switches to English or Spanish. If she’s stressed out, she might interchange Korean and Mandarin, which often confuses everyone around her. When she’s around Yenni, she has a tendency to switch between all four languages in the same conversation. They might start off in English, answer in Korean, and then reply in Spanish.
6. Are they a good impromptu speaker, or do they have to think about their words?
She has to think about her words if she’s speaking Korean, and might hesitate a bit to find the right word. If she’s speaking English or Spanish, she could talk for hours without stopping.
RELATIONSHIPS
1. Describe this character’s relationship with their parents.
Mirasol would kill for her mother. She has nothing but the utmost respect for the woman, and loves her more than anything. The two of them are extremely close, almost to the point that it is unnatural.
She hardly remembers her father, and has not spoken to him since he left when she was a young child.
2. Does the character have any siblings? What is/was their relationship like?
She has a younger half-sister, Ariela, who she adores. Despite the fact that she is a little tough on the girl, she would do absolutely anything to help and protect her. There are times when they get into arguments and screaming matches, but they always make up by the next day.
3. Are there other blood relatives to whom they are close? Are there ones they can’t stand?
She was partially raised by her maternal grandparents, and she thinks of them as a second set of parents.
4. Are there other, unrelated people whom they consider part of their family? What are their relationships with them?
Her god-mother is like a second mom to her. She views her as a close aunt, and might even call her ‘mom’ at times. Her god-sister, Yenni, is her best friend. The two spend most of their time together, and might call each other sisters, cousins, or friends depending on the day.
5. Do they make friends easily, or do they have trouble getting along with people?
She has a hard time getting along well with others, mostly because of her own bad attitude. If she’s in a good mood when she meets someone, she is more likely to be pleasant and befriend them.
6. Which do they consider more important: family or friends?
Family.
7. What do they look for in a romantic partner?
Someone that is attractive and good in bed that she can actually stand to be around.
8. What is the character’s sexual orientation?
Mirasol is masculine-leaning pansexual, but has recently shown more interest in feminine people because of her “curse”. She likes to think that it won’t have an effect on someone feminine.
9. How do they feel about sex? How important is it to them?
Sex makes the world go round. She is fueled by it, and would like to have sex every day if possible.
Listening to what the girl was saying, Chanso seemed to be digging himself an even bigger hole than what he had intended to. His pride however, was not going to take a hit. If anything, this was probably the most stubborn he could get. ‘’I don’t think calling me a ‘kiddo’ is such a good thing, I don’t think you’re much older than me.’’ Looking her up and down to assess what she looked like again. Again, she was nowhere near his size so that wasn’t a problem. ‘’You’re obviously not much smarter than me anyway.’’ Low blow, but he assumed she could take it. It was kind of funny how this conversation turned from simply asking her a question, strange how things work.
There were a number of things that Mirasol could tolerate before losing her temper. She could deal with idiots babbling to strangers as if they gave a shit. She could handle a few pathetic insults that landed absolutely nowhere. And she could put up with obnoxious assholes all day long before breaking out any form of physical violence. But one thing that she absolutely would not stand for was some piece of shit calling her stupid -- not once, but twice now. She was so sick of people thinking she wasn’t intelligent because of her looks, or her attitude, or even her major. People seemed to forget that, aside from being a dancer, she was one of the best chemists in school. And this guy had the gall to think that he was smarter than her? Well, that’s just not something she would sit and take.
A small smirk frozen on her features, she quickly lunged forward, fingers balled up into a fist as she swung toward him. Not a second later, she felt her knuckles connect with his gut, pushing in until she figured that he would have learned his lesson: more than a slap, but not enough to be a kick to the groin. Straightening her back, she stood tall, as if she hadn’t just punched him in the gut. “Wanna try that again?”
He wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to react to him, not even join him in his small ogling session, so when Minchan heard a girl responding, he couldn’t help on a small grin appearing on his face. “Yeah, the whole pack isn’t exactly ten out of ten material, but my main attention was on his butt, and it’s really nice. With that he is probably an eight for me. I’ve always been weak for good asses.” He chuckled, and his eyes were soon scanning the team again, looking for another person he could ‘rate’.
“What’s your opinion about him? I’d say he is about a five, he has nice legs but that’s kind of it.” He pointed at another person, and turned at the girl, waiting for her opinion, wondering if he was getting too friendly too soon.
Had Mirasol expected to bond over sweaty men with a stranger? No. Was she okay with it? Well, it was better than sitting around alone for the rest of the game. And if something better did show up, then she could just walk away from the thirsty twink before her and leave him to drool on himself. “If you’re looking for ass, I suggest heading to soccer games once the season starts up again.” Sure, ass was definitely important when looking at the overall picture, but their face always played a significant part. What was the point of a nice body if it was topped off with ugly features?
Eyes drifting over to the new target, she gave him a once over before shrugging her shoulder, “Bullshit. He’s a three at best.”
In all honesty, Minchan wasn’t exactly… a sports kind of person, quite the contrary, yet he often found himself at basketball matches.
Even if only what he really knew about the game was:
1. It was played by two teams. At least five - he wasn’t one hundred percent sure about it though - players on one.
2. The main goal was to dump the ball into the opposite team’s basket.
He also recognized his school’s team’s colors, so he knew when to cheer loudly when a team scored a goal.
His real purpose of going was hidden from everyone, until one day he managed to loudly comment “That’s one fine piece of ass.” when a player stopped in front of them. (Thankfully not loudly enough for the people on he field hearing him.) He caught himself right after it left his mouth, and he slapped his palm to his mouth, hoping no one really paid attention to him. He really hated not being able to shut the hell up when he was supposed to.
There was only one reason to watch a sports match in Mirasol’s opinion: watching hot, sweaty people running around. Back in New York, she was known to watch quite a few basketball games, always keeping her eye on the fresh meat dribbling balls up and down the court. Despite circumstances being a bit different here, she was still drawn to the idea when she realized that she hadn’t had any other plans.
The game was starting to get boring after the first ten minutes, and she wasn’t exactly the type to jump up and down when her school’s team scored a goal. So instead, she wandered around, eyes floating from person to person as she listened in on the different conversations being held. As she approached someone who had isolated himself from the crowd, she couldn’t help but smirk at his words. “Think so?” She raised an eyebrow, turning to check out the player in question. “I’d give him a six out of ten.”
Not normal? Now that was uncalled for. Chanso’s last nerve had officially been stepped on and he was getting seriously irritated now. He would of not shown any effect if it was any other word than normal, he didn’t like it. ‘’Do you have any manners at all?’’ He spoke, well yell. He was basically shouting at this point. Rude people was something Chanso couldn’t deal with well and this certainly was one of those situations. It was unknown to Chanso whether the girl in question actually knew how she was acting but his instinct was that she indeed knew how she was acting. Maybe she was doing it on purpose? She obviously was as she could of just walked away some time ago.
“Not when I don’t need them,” Mirasol replied, slightly amused by the other’s louder tone of voice. He was starting to get annoyed, and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy it. A small smile crept onto her features, almost mocking him for how he was reacting -- as if she wasn’t the one who was egging him on. She had to admit, this was more interesting than just a simple walk to class. “I’d suggest that you don’t pick fights unless you plan on seeing them through, kiddo,” she spoke after a moment, carefully picking the words from her mind.
Sarang wasn’t sure how Mirasol meant it, but she chose to laugh it off. “Keep that up and you never will be.” With people above her, she always ended up using self-deprecation to break the tension. It was always different from people in her circle.
“At this point, my expectations are very low,” Mirasol replied with a small shrug of her shoulder. “You’d have to work pretty hard to raise them up.” She found herself enjoying their conversation, even just a little bit. It wasn’t often that she met someone who was willing to insult themselves for her. It saved her a small bit of effort.
Even if they hadn’t spent their entire lives together, Yenni could only imagine that the mutual respect for each other would still be there. Despite their penchant for delinquency, and the little bit (or lot) of vain ways they possessed, they were still two smart girls that got their shit handled one way or another. Yeah, they had their spats, but that was expected of any pair of siblings, or friends, or cousins, even– whichever terms they preferred to use at the moment. “Ah, you’re wonderful,” she mumbled halfheartedly, not at all protesting the company. They already lived together and hung out together, another hour spent around Mirasol wouldn’t do any harm. Her free hand hovered over the cold can while her left continued to scribble away. Yenni simply shrugged– studying was studying, she had no doubts that she would ace her exams but she wasn’t the type to slack around if she actually gave a shit about the subject. “In what field exactly? You know I’ve got a lot on my plate.”
Growing up together, the two girls probably spent more than half of their lives in the same room. They weren’t like normal best friends, knowing each other so well that their personalities complimented one another almost too perfectly. Sure, they fought like hell, but that’s what they had always done. In the end, the pair always ended up friendly again. Laying her books out on the table, her eyes scanned over her workload. It was too early to really focus, even if most of the work came easily for her, so she glanced up to her god sister instead, “I meant your studying, but I’ll take what I can get.”
