synthetic

[krempuff-deactivated20160913]

do androids dream?  [listen] - electrical wires run like veins under silicone skin. but who’s to say they aren’t truly alive? (this mix follows an a.i. as it starts to discover the range of human emotions - mainly love - until it can no longer function.)

i. breathe - télépopmusik // ii. the son of flynn - daft punk // iii. intro - alt-j // iv. metropolis - kraftwerk // v. genetic world - télépopmusik // vi. human - ellie goulding // vii. intriguing possibilities - trent reznor & atticus ross // viii. between two points - the glitch mob ft. swan // ix. bride of deluxe - cliff martinez // x. bloodflood - alt-j // xi. reflections - daft punk // xii. sweet dreams (are made of this) - emily browning // xiii. hand covers bruise - trent reznor & atticus ross

[nxamber-blog]

✖ ;; what a ride!

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ ) 

at the words, his head snaps in her direction, reflexively inhuman. he wonders vaguely if he’d look intimidating if his eyes weren’t the size of saucers (probably) and his fingers weren’t indenting grooves into the vibrant metal of the bars between them. it’s dark out, the glinting lights of the festival around them casting soft shadows across the grass beneath them, and mingyu exhales a small breath, if only for something to do.

“that’s nice of you to offer but-” he hums with a small laugh that is tinged with the softest edge of hysteria before the ride jolts awake and the fingers latched vice-like around the bar reaches out instinctively to grip her hand instead. his laughter verges on panicked the moment the soles of his shoes brush nothing but cool air. 

“ah - if i crush your hand, amber-ssi, i promise to visit you in the hospital.” his grin is wide and daunting, but he reckons he is only half joking at this point as his gaze flickers out to scan their surroundings. he’s fallen from further before without too much hassle. this is nothing - he squeaks at the slight jolt in the gears, squeezing the girl’s hand impossibly tighter in response.

his own introduction only manages to be a rushed “you can just tell them to bill mingyu. hi.” 

[seungchul]

“when i see you, it’s breathtaking normally i’m not like this.”

[nxjeongguk]

( * carousel thrills

[nxmingyu-blog]

the evident amusement drenching each syllable from the shorter boy’s (unfairly) grinning lips would have mingyu entirely offended, if only the emotion itself was not in the midst of warring against his current state of Ultimate Distress. presently, he can barely manage a proper response. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, if only for something to do, and his own lips pull into some semblance of a grimace as the crying from the carousel amplifies and the ride slows (not gradually enough, mingyu muses, eyes.widening owlishly) to an indefinite halt.

the corners of his lips tip up to reveal the briefest flash of teeth despite himself at the uncharacteristically confident pitch to the boy’s words, clear as day and refreshing besides. he sobers quickly enough though at the quip, frowning hard at the closest horse, as if he can somehow intimidate it into never moving again with sheer force of will.

“it spins,” he insists with feeling, halfway offended because it isn’t just riding a fake pony. it’s riding a fake pony while spinning. it’s a plethora of bad decisions jam packed into a single ride. a single ride he’s paying for himself. (maybe mingyu is more of a masochist than he originally thought.)

he eyes the proffered hand skeptically, nose wrinkling that small bit at the quip. “i think you might be overestimating your worth just a little bit there, starshine,” he muses casually, meticulously stepping onto the platform without incident. his soft sigh of relief is cut short when the ride gives a traitorous shake, and he’s reaching out to grip the slighter boy’s hand in earnest. “nevermind, did i say overestimating? i meant completely reasonable. a great price. don’t let go.” he rushes out all in one breath.

[srxsehun-blog]

* bottomless pit ,

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ )

it is the glint evident in dark eyes, glistening evenly in the off-kilter margin of light the ddeokbokki stand provides. it is the slight lilt of challenge, undertone minuscule but effervescent, barely breaking past the mundane syllables to settle in his core that ignites that tiny spark of interest. it is a challenge, he thinks off-handedly, and it is only human instinct that that is what his previously idle drive rises up to meet head on.

he tips his head slightly, settling his chin more comfortably onto his open palm even as his brows tip up that minuscule amount in intrigue. “an eating contest,” he echoes, not quite incredulous or skeptical (he’s met his fair amount of surprises in his single month of attending the institute to drive away logical improbability) but enough so of both that he’s sure the sentiment leaks through into his words. eyeing the girl’s slight frame thoughtfully, mingyu scours his memories to pinpoint a name or skill set to match her face and comes up empty. he supposes there is a wicked sort of charm to going in utterly blind.

she moves before he can even form a proper response.

“then i accept your challenge!” he calls back to her with a dramatic flourish, canines flashing, if only in the guise of having a choice in the matter before he’s on his feet and walking towards the booth to offer assistance with a stage whisper. “i think you’re terrifying cook-ssi.”

[nxamber-blog]

✖ ;; what a ride!

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ ) 

mingyu is pointedly not shaking in his overly scuffed trainers, the soles of which are, at the moment, digging hard into the rubble tower recently erected just below his seat. this is nothing, he muses, even as he contemplates his inevitable death at the hands of the contraption, illogical in a way that he isn’t accustomed to. he’s survived far worse, he reasons with himself, his conscious filing through instances of exactly that. this is nothing, he insists again to himself, just under his breath, even as his fingers squeeze that bit tighter against the constraining straps. 

the shaky inhale he finally manages after minutes of not breathing lodges itself in his throat (who chokes on air?), and he sputters at the excitable words from beside him. was he ready? would he ever be?

“er - no. i don’t think so.” he chokes out with an audible tremor, swallowing down something that is resolutely not a squeak when he feels the ride dip under the very last boarder’s weight. “oh,” he wrinkles his nose with a laugh dripping in hysteria, “yeah. the answer is very much no.”

[srxsehun-blog]

* bottomless pit ,

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ )

the balmy curl of humidity licking up his skin is a pleasant alternative to the blistering heat of the day, mingyu decides somewhere towards the end of the first night. that is how he finds himself there again, wandering the late night food stalls with little in terms of absolute trajectory. it’s daunting without a set destination in mind, but the mingling aromas do their best to lure him every which way. despite the flashing lights and perpetual hum of roaring instrumentals - pink noise at its finest, he feels distinctly at ease. 

and this is how mingyu finds himself standing at the corner one of the cluttered tables, close enough to the ddeokbokki stall that the hinted noises of preparation settle deep into his skin like armour, familiar. he’s doing a lazy job of multitasking, he thinks idly, one hand far too busy shoveling rice cake after rice cake into his mouth while the other holds up his propped chin as he stares out the expanse of people filtering in and out of his line of sight when he finally does drop down at one of the emptier tables.. 

visual pink noise, he muses vaguely, chewing quietly on his current rice cake, wondering if he’d recognize any of the faces at all if he were to put in enough effort.

he blinks at the minute shift along the bench when his seatmate turns to regard him. the words have him turning with raised brows, utensil still hovering in the air beside his slightly parted lips. her tone has him grinning wide, teeth flashing, despite himself. “probably not as much as you. but i figure i could empty out the stall on a good day.”

[visual-17]

[nxmingyu-blog]

[nxjeongguk]

( * carousel thrills

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ )

the series of sporadic and, incidentally, unfortunate circumstances leading up to mingyu’s current predicament stand to never be recounted in present (nor, frankly, any) company. possibly ever. he has managed to repress more than half of them within the span of the queue and hopes to possibly forget the other half by the time he reaches the gates of the carousel. regardless, the cyborg grows distinctly more wary as the row of excitable children in line with him begins to chatter among themselves in drones, even more so when their short cheers escalate into disorganized roaring when the second hoard of them sets to board the ride.

mingyu hums again, tipping his head up to trace the minute shift of clouds with a shaky exhale. why? he muses to absolutely no one in particular. (he resolutely does not jump at the tap to his shoulder.)

it takes him an embarrassingly long time to register the voice despite the abject familiarity, and it is such a testament to his current state of distress that he can’t regulate the emotions warring through his synapses like fire. “see, i know you think you’re funny” is his initial quip, the carefully punctuated words devoid of any actual venom, “but i’m going to have to remind you that you’ve been wrong before.” if anything, the words manage to liquefy the tense lines of his muscle, seeping into his bones in a way that can only be described as relief.

“it’s faster than that...” he mumbles to himself mostly, tone dripping in petulance, before he gives a full body flinch as a toddler on one of the smaller horses begins crying. “why is she crying? does it hurt? oh god - we’re next.” he covers his face, slumping a little to make all 186 cm of himself less conspicuous. as if that will stop the inevitable. 

[nxwonwoo-deactivated20160831]

Robots | Mingyu & Wonwoo

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ )

festivals are taxing, to say the least - taxing in such an inexact and ambiguous way, mingyu learns exactly sixteen point fifty-two seconds into the first day, that leaves him grasping involuntarily for some sort of purchase in the midst of the calamity. regardless, he finds he doesn’t dislike it. it’s a difficult thing, he finds, to pinpoint systematic exhales or to target a precise voice in the raucous chaos of the festival, near impossible. (it’s not.) but the jumbled words are just particles in a sea of garbled white noise that he has to drown out, dampening his heightened senses to a mere fraction of their capacity for the sake of his own comfort. dampening it, even, until the most he can focus on actively is the steady thrum of his own veins or the voices just in front of him. it’s a little worrying but mostly liberating, and he wonders distantly if this the capacity of the average human. 

regardless, he powers through the third day of smothering heat and the impending threat of extrasensory discomfort with three small plush creatures slung between each arm (he can’t quite pinpoint any character aside from winnie the pooh and possibly some kind of hello kitty knockoff) to show for his efforts, most of which were won by him going in blind for the sport of it. regardless, one game still manages to elude him even the third day into the thick of it even amping up his own skills. and it is precisely that one game, with his heightened senses already running on overdrive, that manages to thwart every effort he chances against it. and all for that large robot plush. robot plush. large robot plush. cute large robot plush.

it’s his by default.

but when he reaches the booth with that extra pep in his step, hands full of extra tickets, what he witnesses halts him in his tracks. no. he already feels the niggling downward twitch at the corners of his lips that is definitely not a pout. he speaks before his mind can register the words, eyeing the non-sentient plush in a way that might be embarrassingly pleading. “but - we’re more compatible.”

[visual-17]

[nxmingyu-blog]

⌞b r c r c y⌝

@nxinha

there is a satisfying sort of vindication evident in the full weight of festival tickets burning a hole through his joggers - a harmless thing, trivial but still somehow significant in its own right. significant, really, in all rights. it settles comfortably in the hollow of his rib cage, muted but thudding in a systematic rhythm as he muses excitedly about the bunny-eared thing he knows definitively to be hanging softly against the ring toss booths. the soft plush. chubby in a way that is distinctly cute. it’d have been simple. so simple. three quick tosses in succession and the strange little rabbit-eared plush would have been his. if only he’d had the tickets to play.

the lithe lines of his fingers twitch as if in anticipation, and mingyu wonders vaguely if he should be embarrassed of his own enthusiasm. (he isn’t.) especially not when he catches sight of the hanging ball of fluff from mere metres off. his lips twitch at the corners in a way he’s grown to find involuntary, the telltale beginnings of genuine excitement bubbling through his veins, firing at his synapses in quick succession. he can see it now, fat rabbit, the reigning overlord of the (worryingly expanding) plush pile making a home for itself on the free bed in his dorm. 

until he can’t.

mingyu is at the booth before the plush can settle comfortably in someone else’s arms, but the trajectory is too late to counter. and the sleek shine of the back of loosely flowing and fiery red mocks him, familiar in a way that makes his nose wrinkle slightly in petulance. (it’s not a pout, damnit.) and the irony of substantial familiarity is not lost to him.

“hwang inha. why do you have my fat rabbit?” 

[nxmingyu-blog]

hello! hi there. i know i’ve never made a proper introduction - but i’ve been bothering enough of you for weeks now to feel properly ingrained and at home. um so enough useless rambling. quick (really kinda lame) plotcall for this event, all open to absolutely anyone interested, because i’M PUMPED. but also really distracted by the olympics. without further ado!

(i lied. this one is only for offense class bros.) mingyu is an unmotivated goober almost always but he’s competitive okay? and these kinds of experimental fixed competitions are just up his alley. how do i sell him - um. he is really agile?? and has great maneuverability???? perfect aim???? he’s also really enthusiastic and will cheer really really loudly if your muse does something cool like decapitate their own ai opponent.

okay, he may be able to hop off a building without any damage but that’s only because he has an objective to reach and he’s been programmed to be single-minded.. these pendulums? free falls???? he might not know your muse very well (read: possibly at all) but is he going to grab their hand the entire ride? you bet your butt he will. → AMBER !

perfect aim? universal weapon proficiency? none of those help him in the least with these stupid inconsistent water shooters. these aren’t proper weapons!!!! someone please compete with him and be utterly amazing. he might cry. please force mingyu to suffer. → SUNGKYUNG !

HIS WEAKNESS IS ALL THINGS CUTE. and this booth is the only one that has this adorable plushie. probably totoro or something. he doesn’t get the reference but he wants it. he really, reeeeally wants it. but he can’t win. he either begs the person running the booth for it or the winner of the prize. it’ll be pathetic but this is mingyu. → INHA & WONWOO !

shade is completely necessary in the infamously blistering korean heat. you both duck under a tree to escape the sun as the festival carries on. there’s only room for one of you and tensions run high during your informal glaring contest. until he lifts up his practice water gun (yes he went out and bought one after his Failure) and shoots you in the forehead. FIGHT. → SURAN !

feel free to like this! or message me!!!!! or blink three times!!!!!!!!! if you’re interested.

[shrinemaidens]

ARTIFICIAL

No one wanted to tell the girl that she was made of steel and a nest of wires, but she already knew. She touched her face and pretended, for a second, that it was her flesh.

LISTEN / DOWNLOAD

[nxmingyu-blog]

hello! hi there. i know i’ve never made a proper introduction - but i’ve been bothering enough of you for weeks now to feel properly ingrained and at home. um so enough useless rambling. quick (really kinda lame) plotcall for this event, all open to absolutely anyone interested, because i’M PUMPED. but also really distracted by the olympics. without further ado!

(i lied. this one is only for offense class bros.) mingyu is an unmotivated goober almost always but he’s competitive okay? and these kinds of experimental fixed competitions are just up his alley. how do i sell him - um. he is really agile?? and has great maneuverability???? perfect aim???? he’s also really enthusiastic and will cheer really really loudly if your muse does something cool like decapitate their own ai opponent. 

okay, he may be able to hop off a building without any damage but that’s only because he has an objective to reach and he’s been programmed to be single-minded.. these pendulums? free falls???? he might not know your muse very well (read: possibly at all) but is he going to grab their hand the entire ride? you bet your butt he will.

perfect aim? universal weapon proficiency? none of those help him in the least with these stupid inconsistent water shooters. these aren’t proper weapons!!!! someone please compete with him and be utterly amazing. he might cry. please force mingyu to suffer.

HIS WEAKNESS IS ALL THINGS CUTE. and this booth is the only one that has this adorable plushie. probably totoro or something. he doesn’t get the reference but he wants it. he really, reeeeally wants it. but he can’t win. he either begs the person running the booth for it or the winner of the prize. it’ll be pathetic but this is mingyu. 

feel free to like this! or message me!!!!! or blink three times!!!!!!!!! if you’re interested. 

[nxseungcheol-deactivated2016082]

Ugh || Seungcheol&Mingyu

[nxmingyu-blog]

( ✖ )

the chorus of cheers, expectedly, doesn’t come. not even the most muted of cheers under the low, whirring hum of the central air conditioning (something mingyu is inordinately grateful for and envious of in just about every other building.) regardless, he can’t help the small downward twitch niggling at corner of his lips in response, childishly disappointed, though his brows draw up that small bit in avid curiosity. he’s growing used to these near-voluntary responses, emulated and unnatural though they may be. each feigned reaction almost genuine under the artificial lights of the library - and, to a startling degree, it feels genuine.

mingyu is quiet, pulled out of his reverie yet again by the small tap of balled up paper, skittering off the rim of the waste bin. he turns his head, sharp gaze trailing the small ball as it rolls off and under a nearby table. the silence in the vast, open canvas of the library is deafening. dropping his palms back against the solid wooden desk below him, mingyu rolls his shoulders and peers at the slow ticking of frustration evident on the other male’s face. which is - familiar now that he studies it more.

the frustration, though, manages to coax the barest twitch of lips, a brief flash of short canines as he slides of the table towards the innocuous ball of wadded paper. without a word, he ducks down, fingers tracing over the textured surfaces and sharp edges before straightening up again. impeccably casual, he tucks his free hand into his pocket and begins walking back towards the front, trajectory and meticulous aim already calculated. and he tosses without a glance back as he waits for the inevitable response.