cool sciencer

attractive young scientician in your area

[nxmanon-blog]

there’s some things coming up in my life and i’ll be taking a short hiatus until the 18th ! 

[eeveezen]

▸ [ zocchihedron ]

▸ [   delivering to the boy with weird hair had become a habit now, and the way his cells shifted and buzzed excitedly every time a new order held a box with his name on it, jr couldn’t help but smile – like the very water in him was intent on drowning, like his heart was determined to stop the breath in his throat.  today isn’t any different, but the box is – it rolls a little when he takes it in hand and curiosity crinkles his nose.  but he’s not one to question the dynamics of boxes, so every part of him drifts to the air with the box in hand, arriving not too far away from that familiar front door.  he wonders if his hair will be seafoam green today.  he hopes so. ] – ▸ [   a knock on the door and a smile waits for one lee byunghun as he calls out with a chipper tone. ]  delivery ~~ 

[nxmanon-blog]

▸ [   naturally, he found himself again in a cycle of excuses, denial, and bargaining. as if late, he was controlled by impulses, the digits of his debit card, and dreams of a particular delivery boy. this routinely caused him to get up at 4 in the morning, down a pint of tea, and read a book of complicated sciences to distract himself from dreadful human (mutant?) emotion. nonetheless, he needed a new zocchihedron  – no, really, the last one fell into a vent and was reduced to ash thanks to one of xavier’s pyromaniac students. it may or may not be his fault, but . . .

there’s a knock at the front door and his thoughts begin to resemble melted ice cream, and then bursts of electricity. immediately fumbling with the pages of the wind-up bird chronicle his respiration went for a spin, as did his pupils, but eventually he managed to clutch the hem of his sweater and repeat the mental phrase of ‘be cool, byunghun. just be cool.’ before actually opening the door ] . . . hello. [   he looks up to the boy (jr - a strange nickname, but he has heard weirder) with a face lacking emotion, aside from the tense jaw and firmly locked stare. things really couldn’t get any better. ] you’re awfully chipper. i hope this isn’t a sign that you’ve finally snapped from coming all the way out here to deliver packages, and therefore have replaced my zocchihedron with a bomb. which, i mean, is the same thing, but i digress. 

[   . . . what was he saying? biting his tongue and glancing away, he holds out his hand to *politely* take the box, and maybe their fingers will brush or he’ll be able to keep a conversation going for more than two minutes and he really, truly, was grateful at this moment for being a shapeshifter or his cheeks would be an embarrassing pink. ]

[teentoping]

[nxmanon-blog]

◈ paper star

[nxmanon-blog]

jroyalnxm:

{ ❦ }

“ if you want to call it a vacation –” his lips curve up and it’s the first smile he’s had painted on his lips since the evening started and he holds byunghun upright as he gains his bearings ( stares on in wonder as his hair fades from raven black to baby’s pink, and he’s reminded of a time long ago when the boy was blonde.  he wanted to see him in seafoam green – )  “ if i was actually stalking you, lee byunghun, you would either be dead or wouldn’t even know it.” the meaning behind those words goes far deeper than the joking twist that jr puts on them but byunghun doesn’t need to know.  he probably won’t ever need to know.  “ but i make it a point to always keep you in my sight.  is that a problem?”

and just as before, they’re falling into a routine of byunghun’s chatter that doesn’t really make sense to him ( who is ruby? what are the elite four??? the question remains. ) but jr just nods his head like he understands, because he wants to.  he really wants to understand everything that byunghun says, but he is a man of heavy words and jr is sitting on a kindergartener’s dialect.  and even though he doesn’t even understand most of the context, jr knows that he has been far less productive than byunghun that week.  but it’s not like that’s not something he didn’t know.  “ you look fine.  the bananas are cute.”

… he’s always had byunghun in his sights.  

His silence is parallel with the space of his psyche, the corners momentarily empty, like the invisible ravines in between their skin cells and the lines which separate atoms to prevent absolute amalgamation. Byunghun hears the sea, the waves collapsing upon one another beyond his physical being yet at the threshold of his mental self, and the water sounds soft, sluggish, and warm. The daylight began to sink into the horizon, gracing another shore with its bright illumination, and the tones cast across their world is also like a flame, transforming the beads of sand into rose quarts, turning his reality rosy, deoxygenated, until he takes another breath of fresh air.

Byunghun committed himself to a profession known for keen observation, and it was in his nature to pinpoint the tiniest changes in front of him. And Jr’s smile could create a blur of motion upon the world around it; he would fixate on such a simple gesture and lose semblances of concentration and logic, and he would commit it to memory because it was forgetting the tiny, important things that deteriorated people from the inside out.

“...It’s not a problem.” Mimicking the ocean, his voice seemed to reach out far from his perception. The sand became squeezed between his toes as he sunk into the beach, patches of his skin exposed to the late afternoon sun, feeling hot, as if he was some cave dweller that regularly kept himself inside a laboratory all day and night. He steps backwards, walking slowly without checking to see the distance between himself and the water’s edge, thinking of circulatory systems and Janáček’s Sinfonietta. “Thank you.” Byunghun doesn’t specify what the gratitude may be for – perhaps if he took the time to list those items he’d be trapped here for hours in front of Jr, endlessly thanking him for the small gifts of quiet company to the risk of coming here with him, where time was filliped on its side and the air didn’t smell like smog and fire.

“Although, I guess it’s safe for me to assume you’ve been watching me in the shower then? Snooping in on my most vulnerable moments....I’m appalled.” He rejoined, typically ruining a precious moment – one that he would treasure, certainly, but was nonetheless bludgeoned by the noise of his brain. The edge of his mouth curled into a traditional smirk, erasing any doe-eyed expression caused by heart fluttering awe (emotions are always nefariously complicated and confusing) by switching over to a mischievous glint, and behind his visage was a tangle of restless energy that he was forever incapable of expressing. 

Formative years trapped behind aristocrat walls had nurtured the gnawing need to always be occupied, and obeying to that law the silence of his mind must again be replaced, the vacuum demanding to filled with the clouds dangling above and churning thoughts of Kim Jonghyun, jellyfish, and lungs filled with salt water. At least now he couldn’t hear the ghosts twirling with suffering and doubt, his wounds again wrapped in bandages, carefully holding the clotting blood. 

[nxmanon-blog]

◈ the baby-sitters club

nxmmina

Today’s schedule consisted of a diligent pattern of tending to tasks in blood work; specifically  monitoring carbon dioxide and oxygen levels in relation to pulmonary functions. Already was it going to be a rather mundane afternoon of repeating actions and observing the slightest of changes, while properly handling bio-hazards, so naturally he opted out of being alone, after all, Mina could use more time in the lab to further help her integration into a medical setting (plus it would keep her brain from turning into a pile of cranberry goop - disgusting). 

“Apparently most people are paranoid when it comes to having someone stick a needle in their artery, or just think that it’s not necessary to measure hemoglobins and electrolytes, because mutants are super invulnerable - or some bullshit like that.” Byunghun’s standard of reciting medical information in a frenzy or in monotone was put to rest, replaced by a suppressed complained, descending into a mumble pressed into his palm. Exhaling his vexation, he focused on the present situation, which was that with only one proper resident scientist (i.e. him) that even a small amount of work could consume the majority of his time for a week or so, especially with his painstaking routine for perfection. “...Thanks again, for agreeing to help out.” He really was grateful, her company did enough to prevent him from overthinking and redoing trials that should be left alone, plus - the silence here could drive him mad, probably.

“Okay, let’s make sure there’s no hidden mutant diseases...” Morbidly carefree, Byunghun stood from his chair, and discovered that that bottom of his shoes must be covered in some sort of adhesive because he was definitely planted onto the title. “Oh.” Attempting to clear his thoughts, and fix his appearance, he shapeshifted from the default form of scaly blue flesh to a pale human skin with dark human hair - all very human - on the account that standing at the doorway of New Xavier’s lab was one of the secretaries: a woman currently caught in the tenacious grip of a small child.

(...What, is the kid toxic? Should he be getting hazmat suits ready and begin quarantine???)

“Lee Byunghun, Kwon Mina, I would like the two of you to meet Lee Cristina.” Gesturing to the short child, her hair appearing to have a few generous tangles, and eyes wandering throughout the entire room (to his discomfort. children did not belong in these places. they could break science). “You’ll be taking care of her today. Her mother cannot host her safely for the time being, but is due to return this evening. The rest of us are too busy, so, kindly watch over her.” Encouraging the girl to release her from the suffocating grasp, she pushed her gently in the direction of the private lobby, succeeding when colorful magazines became the new center of attention.

But he was not merely standing there to absorb the scenery and let time pass him by, and he bit the inside of his cheek, took a step forward, and felt his fingers twitch. “Busy? You think I - we’re - not busy? Seriously, are you crazy? I’m not qualified for this kind of work but why don’t you go over my files again and - “ It’s a cascade of incandescent tones, his irritation in cohorts with the harsh strings of ancient violins, and he felt his steady words become hot, ignited, and then smothered by the secretary’s negligence when she left the room without a word. “...sort out your priorities. What the...” (he couldn’t say fuck in front of a child, right? “...uh...duck?” Pressing the sleeve of his coat to his mouth, he breathed out the humiliating, defeated sigh, letting himself slowly digest his new job as ‘babysitter’ whilst glancing over to Mina.

“...I’m not ready to be a father. I mean, what are kids?”

[taida-nirama]

Angelina Joelie was forced to return

[nxmanon-blog]

◈ don’t drown

[xyfxjinhee-deactivated20160815]

{ ❦ }

She opened her mouth to say something but instantly closed it when the other said something about studying. She couldn’t help but grimace at the thought of anything relating to school. Just because she didn’t study doesn’t mean she would disrupt someone else’s studying. Squinting at the treat that was pushed towards her, she mentally debated if she should actually take it or not. _Just do it. _Having her hand slowly slide towards the offered treat, she decided to take the melon flavored shaved ice. (She already had mango one somewhere this week) ❝T-Thank..you?❞ She mumbled softly, unsure of what to say aside from that. 

[nxmanon-blog]

So far there hadn’t been any accusation about how he’s a meddling book nerd with too much time on his hands - therefore he could assume his tentative plan was unraveling to become a success (hopefully). Nonchalant, with his shoulders relaxed and eyes wandering to the books he had retrieved, he nodding in acknowledgement while filliping the lightest of the novels open, revealing walls of texts alongside delicate diagrams of anatomy. “No problem.” With a quiet reply, Byunghun reached out to reclaim the mango flavor ice, and continued to poke at the small mountain with the accompanying plastic spoon. (was metal silverware too dangerous, considering that teenagers and young adults with wild ‘superpowers’ were a bit...capricious?)

Still, the spoon was flimsy and bent with ease, but paying it no mind he carefully ate away at dessert whilst reading about eukaryotes and histone proteins in regards to current trends in genetic-centric research, the edition up to date enough that there were mentions of trends in human mutations along with the current spectacle that is the x-gene. “I’m Lee Byunghun.” In the midst of consuming the rhetoric of elder scientific researchers and information of what he already knew, he glanced up from the cover and to the young woman sitting across from him. “...I’m actually not very familiar with New Xavier’s yet, even if it’s predictably strange...although less strange compared to America.” It sounded like a manipulative social technique created by psychologists, but in reality, his mind was splitting, as if suddenly remembering something...

Right, he wasn’t actually that good at these types of things, the whole ‘reaching out to people gracefully’ thing instead of say, losing his temper, or rambling about some obscure nerdy bullshit. “...Uh...” His panic was slight, barely there, and yet his pupils darted to the side, and then to the mango flavored ice, which he promptly took a bite out of, ignoring the cold burn that followed. “...Wow, you know, studies in electric brain activity have taken up some traction - although maybe for nefarious purposes. There are studies theorizing that many mutations are a result of the x-gene stabilizing a higher rate of neurological voltage fluctuations, and there are people that believe that without the gene’s influence it’d be common for them to develop epilepsy due to cortical nerve cells going, well, absolutely wild.”

Byunghun paused, clamping his mouth closed when it dawned on him that he was becoming lost in debates of biologically and the urge to convince students and staff alike to agree to letting him record an electroencephalograph to properly test the theory. “...Though, human scientists are still incredibly behind, most of their publications are merely vague theories...but they’re not wrong.” There, he’s done with unraveling this yarn-ball of frayed thoughts. Turning the pages hurriedly, he looked to another section, counting his blesses (maybe he should have thought this plan through better. maybe start with a word cloud next time?) and trying decipher a section about neural oscillations. 

[nxmanon-blog]

◈ paper star

                            “this is why even if you jumped, you would have survived.”

His heartbeat is in his ears, his sight is splintered into infinite prisms. Within his own head, Byunghun hears too much, and not enough, of the noise of his thoughts. In repetition, the silent thunderstorms devour themselves, like the Ouroborus, until he is deafened by those undefinable whispers: the nightmare memories, and the sentimental echoes from the days behind them.

New Xavier’s presented itself to him as an opportunity, and a solution of saline to cleanse the infections caused by the merciless world of trauma and endless, beautiful bounty. Here, he had yet to begin clinging to the residents, had his eyes fixated on numerals and blood samples, lest his reality become overwhelmed by specters and more twisted, unkind memories. 

“I miss playing D&D, and fighting about wizards. Why did I forget my best decks in America?

...But really, I still miss them.”

Unsurprisingly, such a candid confession is reserved for only the one had he could never pry himself away from. To pacify the ache, he only needed to speak the truth once, to solidify it at the hour of midnight. When their corridors become isolated, when the organized chaos that is his quarters persists to be still, with only pants as humble denizens, when he resided elsewhere, thinking too much, or not thinking enough. 

(he doesn’t admit to his longing for america, to return to new york. it’d be hypocritical, and destructive, to say so when his desire is to let the saline soak into their cuts - to mold better lives.

emotions are troublesome, he could never suffocate them. they only ever became inflamed.) 

By now he has an inkling of comprehension when it comes to deciphering Kim Jonghyun’s expressions, while the remaining individuals relentlessly exists as baffling enigmas, more complicated than any Lord of the Rings character, and more confusing than overpriced, superfluous coffee drinks. (what the living hell is a frappuccino anyways?) But his unspoken calamities and silent rainstorms seep into his skin. At that moment, in between the cease of his own footfalls, and the continuations of JR’s, he heard a pause within am etude, and the overwhelming overture. 

I want to see him smile. Earnestly, unapologetic. Like a sun.

...when did I start always thinking of him?

The first time his molecules detached, he felt the oxygen leave his lungs, and he may have been rendered speaking garbled, unintelligent sentences of excited fascination - along with the unmistakable feeling of motion sickness. Now, the forced separation is only akin to static electricity, a process similar to the sensation of convincing his cells to transform, and when light envelops the surrounding world again, his voice is balanced on silver scales opposed to the initial quivering that had escaped so clumsily. 

“...Are we taking a vacation?” His fingers reached his eyelashes, determined to wipe the visions of stars from his eyes, and subtly, he felt grateful that his habit of keeping a more...acceptable human shape continued to be the norm. Although, that didn’t stop him from encouraging the pigment of his hair to blanch from black to pale pink- they were, after all, on vacation, or whatever. “Have you been stalking me?” Byunghun hears his heart again, lighter, wonders if the vales have suddenly become candied, if the exterior had become a vibrant red. In a present of tumult, he can listen to the happy palpitation - but he can’t follow the beat for long - and his expression shifts from an easy smile to a state of formality, manipulated by that infinite concern. 

“This is some great timing, actually. I already finished next week’s course work in advance, and have gotten a head start on lab work. Am I bragging? A bit. I also defeated Ruby’s elite four again, and made a perfect cup of coffee. You know, I might as well get it all out there.” His tongue was twisting, his fingers twitching, tugging at the hem of his shirt (banana patterned. he was weak.), poking at nape of his neck and really, it’d be so convenient if they just ceased to exist when he didn’t need them.

[nxmanon-blog]

◈ don’t drown

People were consistently predictable, whether he met them in America or South Korea, and New Xavier’s had few differences from the original establishment when it came to social climate. Troubled, angsty teens were predictably present, along with the hesitant teachers with bitter flavors stuck between their teeth, and of course, what would a school be without a regular circulation of gossip?

In any case, the staff were probably worse than the students - and when there was one problem child in the system, then soon, everyone knew about them. For example: Kim Taeyeon, the bane of those that enjoyed puffing out their chests in egotistic pride whilst bragging how talented they are at coercing mutant youths to pass some mundane written exam.

Byunghun glanced at the plastic tray held firmly with his pale, thin fingers. Pale, and so he had decided (not that he often deviated from this outside of the lab and his quarters) to appear as a blond haired human, lacking in melanin, and even opting to wear an authentic T-shirt & shorts combo to battle the cafeteria’s unreliable AC. Did they not have a maintenance guy? And why is it that Xavier’s itself is fucked no matter what country it’s in?

He had seen her earlier, noted the young woman as the person with an eroded skeleton. It provided shelter to the delicate manifestation, who found the poison of reality circulating through her veins. Taeyeon. With a straight spine and a conquered nervous tick, he walked to the table confidently, letting the tray ring quietly upon being dropped.

“Hey, this is weird but I was given an extra shaved ice. I have mango and melon flavor - would you like one?” He questioned, assuring each syllable is spoken as a prudent step, following the guidelines to be casual. There was an overabundance of tiny quirks that seized their physical body, and just like following instructions, he maintained eye contact for a few seconds afore shifting the weight off his back. The backpack was a gluttonous creation, and was always given acknowledgement by the amount of books he regularly shoved into the tattered insides.

“I’m going to study here, I need to refresh my memory on the basics of biology.” Continuing with his elaborate plan, he explained the remainder of the situation with the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Nonchalantly - because he had to be careful if he was to help anyone - he pushes the tray of offensive orange to the woman, urging her to take the bait and scarf down a treat of 100% real fruit juice and ice splinters.

[nxmanon-blog]