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COUNTRY. MOSCOW, RUSSIA

NAME. LYOV ARON [ no need for formalities - just call him lyov ] PRONOUNS. HE/HIM AGE. TWENTY-SEVEN

ALIGNMENT. THE MAFIA

APPEARANCE. HE MIGHT AS WELL BE A VAMPIRE. HE’S NOT BUT THE POINTING AND THE LOUD ‘VAMPIRE’ FROM RUDE LITTLE BRATS PASSING BY DOES GET ON HIS NERVES. AND WORSE, HE KNOWS THE ADULTS THINK THE SAME THING. THEY’RE JUST NOT IDIOTIC ENOUGH TO VOICE IT [ well, most of them aren’t ]. BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, HE REALLY DOES LOOK LIKE A VAMPIRE. HE SUSPECTS IT’S HIS UNNATURALLY PALE SKIN. OR MAYBE HIS EYES ARE TO BLAME. ITS WORSE AT NIGHT WHEN SOME BRILLIANT ASS THINKS IT’S FUNNY TO SHINE A LIGHT IN HIS FACE. HIS GOLDEN EYES APPARENTLY GLOW BRIGHTLY AND COUPLE THAT WITH HIS PALE WHITE SKIN, HE LOOKS LIKE SOME SORT OF SUPERNATURAL BEING. AN ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS SUPERNATURAL BEING [ because let’s face it, he’s ridiculously beautiful - and his vampire-like appearance has at least half to do with it ] BUT A SUPERNATURAL BEING NONETHELESS. SO NO HE CAN’T SPARKLE [ stupid tourists asking him stupid questions ]. GOD, WHAT RIDICULOUS ASSHOLE EVEN CAME UP WITH THE IDEA THAT BLOOD-SUCKING CREATURES SPARKLE? [ of course he knew who’s fault it all was, but he feels like being acidic about it all, so there. ] DENYING OTHERWISE WOULD BE JUST PLAIN SILLY. THE TRUTH IS, HE’S A GORGEOUS MAN WITH LOOKS THAT COULD KILL, AND HE KNOWS IT. IT IS WITHOUT A DOUBT THE ONLY BENEFICIAL THING ABOUT HIS APPEARANCE. AND SURE, IT TAKES A CRAP TON OF TIME AND WORK AND MONEY TO KEEP UP HIS FANTASTIC LOOKS, BUT IT’S WELL WORTH IT. PRYING SECRETS OUT OF OTHERS IS RIDICULOUSLY EASY AND HE HAS HIS APPEARANCE TO THANK PLENTIFULLY FOR THAT. THERE’S REALLY ONLY ONE DOWNSIDE AND IT’S SUCH AN INSIGNIFICANT DOWNSIDE IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTE- OF COURSE IT MATTERS! GETTING HIT ON EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN DAY IS NOTHING MINOR! TOURISTS. TOURISTS HIT ON HIM. SHALLOW WOMEN HIT ON HIM. EVEN SLEAZY MEN HIT ON HIM. AND HE IS MOST DEFINITELY NOT GAY ( a/n: go keep telling yourself that, my lovely lyov ). IT’S LIKE HE CAN’T GO TWO METERS FROM HIS HOUSE WITHOUT BEING FLOCKED BY ENTRANCED ONLOOKERS. [ even if maybe a little tiny piece of enjoys the attention- like hell he did! ] HIS LOOKS MIGHT AS WELL BE AN ABILITY OF ITS OWN [ although he wouldn’t mind if it were his only ability ]… OKAY, SO HE MIGHT BE EXAGGERATING A TAD BIT - BUT STILL, HE MIGHT BE A GOD AMONG MEN, BUT WHY COULDN’T ANYONE EVER TAKE A HINT AND LEAVE HIM ALONE. HUMANS ARE SO STUPID.

PERSONALITY. EVER HEARD OF ‘BISHIE SPARKLES’? WELL, HE CERTAINLY KNEW NOTHING OF IT UNTIL HE FOUND HIMSELF IN THE ANIME-LOVING COUNTRY THAT IS AMERICA. HE SUSPECTS IF HE WAS IN AN ANIME, HE WOULD BE ADORNED BY THESE ‘BISHIE SPARKLES’.AND NOT JUST BECAUSE OF HIS LOOKS. HE CONSIDERED HIMSELF A GENTLEMAN OF THE HIGHEST ORDER. [ oh how ironic it was. a gentleman’s whose job is to threaten/torture idiots who managed to somehow stumble in between the mafia and its goals. it truly is quite the twist to the story. except it’s not part of a fairytale where things are all black and white. he’s a captive of reality and reality sucks. ] HE’S A CHARMING MAN WITH A KIND SMILE. HE’S THE SORT OF PERSON NO ONE EXPECTS THE MAFIA WOULD EMPLOY. IT’S BOTH TRUE AND UNTRUE. HE’S NOT THE LOST, FOREIGN CHILD HE WAS FOURTEEN YEARS AGO. BECAUSE BACK THEN HE WAS DESPERATE TO LIVE [ and angry too ]. HE VIEWED THE BOSS AS HIS SAVIOR. BACK THEN HE WAS NOT AFRAID OF HIS ABILITY. NOW, HE’S CALMER AND HATES USING HIS ABILITY. THE ONLY THING PROPELLING HIM FORWARD - KEEPING HIM FROM COMPLETELY DESERTING THE MAFIA - IS HIS FEAR OF DYING. BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW MANY YEARS PASS BY, HE STILL RETAINS HIS STRONG DESIRE TO LIVE EVEN IF HE HATES HOW GODDAMN SELFISH IT IS.

too tired/lazy to continue writing + elaborating so here ya go – > charismatic/charming with all the lovely sparkling of your typical shoujo love interest > efficient/hardworking soul who undertakes responsibilities without complaint (mostly b/c he’s utterly terrified of the mafia) > kind outside of his job > ruthless is a quality which serves him well in the mafia > distant/secretive though he presents himself as a kind-hearted individual, he is distant all the same > selfish he lives life without any loyalties to force him down

ABILITY. FOR REDEMPTION OF SCARLET SNOW | RUSSIA’S REVOLUTION [ by leon aron ] WHILE HE MAY NOT BE A VAMPIRE, THE UNIVERSE SEEMS TO BE CONSPIRING AGAINST HIM TO MAKE HIM SEEM LIKE HE’S A VAMPIRE. TAKE FOR EXAMPLE HIS GOD AWFUL ABILITY, FOR REDEMPTION OF SCARLET SNOW. LONG ASS NAME. YEAH, HE KNOWS. IT’S NOT LIKE HE CHOSE THAT NAME [ because if it were up to him it wouldn’t be so long and stupid ] BUT HE HASN’T EXACTLY CHANGED YET. HIS REASON? WELL- ( a/n: carry on mr. bowditch, your answers are at the end ) IT DOESN’T MATTER WHETHER HE WANTS TO CALL IT SOMETHING OTHER THAN FOR REDEMPTION OF SCARLET SNOW, EVERYONE ELSE CALLS IT FOR REDEMPTION OF SCARLET SNOW. AND DESPITE ITS UTTER RIDICULOUSNESS, IT SEEMS TO HAVE STUCK IN THE MINDS OF EVERYONE ELSE. WHO IS HE TO DENY EVERYONE ELSE OF THE PLEASURE OF RATTLING OFF A FRUSTRATINGLY LONG NAME? THE RIDICULOUS NAME OF HIS ABILITY MIGHT BE LAUGHABLE TO HIM, BUT NOTHING ELSE ABOUT IT COULD EVEN BE CALLED REMOTELY FUNNY. NOT WHEN HIS ABILITY MIGHT AS WELL BE A TORTURE DEVICE. IT’S NOTHING TO LAUGH AT. IT’S DOWNRIGHT SCARY. AND THAT’S A MEMBER OF A RUTHLESS ORGANIZATION SAYING THAT. AND IT IS LYOV ARON OF ALL PEOPLE SAYING IT. SCARY ISN’T SOMETHING HE ADMITS TO EVERY DAY. HELL, HIS ABILITY IS PROBABLY THE ONLY THING HE CONSIDERS SCARY [ that and the mafia itself ]. AND REALLY, WHO WOULDN’T BE AT LEAST A LITTLE SCARED OF AN ABILITY THAT COULD SNATCH AWAY THE PRECIOUS LIFE SOURCE AND CONVERT A BODY INTO A LITERAL BURNING INFERNO? THERE IS A REASON HE SPECIALIZES IN TORTURING STUBBORN CAPTIVES. AFTER ALL, THERE’S ONLY SO MANY PEOPLE WHO CAN HOLD UP AFTER EXPERIENCING THE SORT OF HELLISH PAIN HIS ABILITY DELIVERS. IT’S SUCH AN IRONIC NAME, REALLY. THAT ABILITY OF HIS REDEEMS NO ONE. RATHER, IT PUTS OTHERS [ and him ] THROUGH HELL AND BACK. BACK FOR OTHER PEOPLE. FOR HIM? IT SUFFOCATES HIM IN HELL AND REFUSES TO LET HIM UP FOR EVEN A SHORT GASP OF AIR. HE HATES IT. BUT IT IS UNDOUBTEDLY A USEFUL TOOL FOR THE MAFIA. IT’S THE REASON THEY INDUCTED HIM INTO THE MAFIA AFTER ALL. ONE TOUCH IS ENOUGH TO SEND SOMEONE HISSING IN PAIN. AND APPARENTLY, CLOTHES AND GLOVES AREN’T ENOUGH TO STOP HIS ABILITY. ALTHOUGH IT DOES INTERFERE SLIGHTLY. DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT HE HATES TOUCHING BLOOD, OR BLEEDING FOR THAT MATTER. NOT WHEN IT BURNS HIM EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME HE TOUCHES IT [ his ability lets him convert blood into heat because of that one law which states matter can neither be destroyed nor created - gotta turn that blood into something ]. HE HATES TOUCHING ANY PART OF HIMSELF FOR THAT MATTER. THE PAIN IS JUST NOT WORTH IT [ because unfortunately, his ability will target anyone, including himself ]. A SIMPLE TOUCH WON’T KILL A PERSON - OTHERWISE HE WOULD ALREADY BE DEAD. IT ONLY AFFECTS A TIGHT RADIUS OF A FEW INCHES AROUND EACH INDIVIDUAL FINGER. IT’S LIKE GETTING A PAPER CUT - ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THE PAIN LEVEL. WHEREAS A PAPER CUT HURTS FOR A MILLISECOND AND CAN BE EASILY CURED BY LICKING THE CUT, A LIGHT TOUCH FROM HIM IS LIKE A MINOR BURN [ ie, spilling seconds after heating ramen noodles all over, thereby creating a minor burn and a strong desire for an ice pack ]. THE BLOOD LOSS IS NO DIFFERENT, HOWEVER. THAT DOESN’T MAKE HIS ABILITY ANY LESS BEARABLE WHEN HE ACCIDENTALLY TOUCHES HIS SKIN OR CLOSES HIS FINGERS TOGETHER. IT’S PAINFUL BUT IT’S NOT THE REASON HE FINDS HIS ABILITY SUCH A SCARY THING. THEN WHAT IS? THAT’S THE QUESTION IDIOTIC AND NOSY MEMBERS OF THE MAFIA SOMETIMES PRESS FOR ANSWERS. WHY IS HE SO SCARED OF HIS ABILITY WHEN, COME TO THINK OF IT, HE MARKED HIS FIRST ARRIVAL WITH A BRAWL THAT RESULTED IN ONE SORRY MESS OF A MAFIA MEMBER DELIVERED TO THEIR DOORSTEP. AS MADE QUITE CLEAR BY HIS ENTRANCE TO THE PORT CITY, DIRTY TEEN LYOV HAD ABSOLUTELY ZERO INHIBITORS USING HIS ABILITY. SO WHAT IN WORLD PUNCHED HIM IN THE GUT, STABBED HIS EYE OUT, KICKED HIM IN THE HEAD FOR GOOD MEASURES, AND UTTERLY DESTROYED THE [ scary ] PERSON HE ONCE WAS? OF COURSE, THEY DON’T PUT IT IN EXACTLY THOSE WORDS BUT THE MEANING IS STILL BEHIND THE WORDS. AND IT IS EASY ENOUGH TO SMILE CHEERFUL AND QUICKLY REDIRECT THE TOPIC TO SOMETHING OTHER THAN THAT [ because he’d be damned before he ever revealed the reasons behind his fear - it wasn’t an answer prying minds deserved to know ]. …HE REALLY DOES SOUND LIKE A VAMPIRE, HUH? HE BASICALLY CAN SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF OTHERS. SOUNDS PRETTY VAMPIRE-Y, SURE. BUT HE’S NOT THE LITERAL VAMPIRE AMONG THE MAFIA! THAT BLESSED ROLE AND TITLE GOES TO ANOTHER PERSON THAT ISN’T HIM. HE’S NOT SOME SORT OF WEAKLING WHO DROPS THE BALL EVERY TIME PEOPLE START GIVING HIM FROGS TO COUNT OUT. [ he won’t admit to his weakness, however, because he might as well sign his death on the dotted line if he does that. after all, the mafia is not tolerable of any sort of weakness existing within. ] notes on his ability – > touching skin/clothes even with gloves on do not completely stop his ability. however, they do hinder the rate which he can kill someone. direct contact with blood allows him to dissolve a body’s worth of blood in about 2~5 minutes, obviously depending since not all people have the same blood pressure. skin hinders him by about 2~3 minutes. > he can control how quickly or slowly he dissolves blood into heat to a certain extent. the numbers above are his limits under the circumstances that he has a tight grip on the target and using both hands. > contact with his fingers + palm. no other body part works. > he is exceptionally nimble and fast. not so far as being supernatural, but his athletic abilities do seem to push the limits of human capacities.

BACKGROUND.

( “HM? WHO PUT YOU IN CHARGE OF DECIDING THOSE THINGS!? WHY FOR REDEMPTION OF SCARLET SNOW ANYWAY? IT’S SUCH A MOUTHFUL.” )

IT IS 1999. THE SOVIET UNION HAS BEEN DEAD FOR ALMOST A DECADE. BUT DON’T BE FOOLED TO THINK THAT ACTUALLY HELPED ANYTHING. LIFE IS STILL CRAP. SURE, HE WAS FAR TOO YOUNG TO REMEMBER THE SOVIET UNION [ he was only a year old when it collapsed after all ] BUT EVEN WITH THE FALL OF THE SOVIET UNION, ONE THING STAYED TRUE: POVERTY. AS IT WERE, RUSSIA IS SADDLED WITH AN ECONOMY SINKING SINKING DOWNWARD. AND UNLIKE ALL THE BIGSHOTS IN THEIR COZY OFFICES, LYOV GETS THE SINCERE OPPORTUNITY TO FEEL THE FULL BRUNT OF THE AFTERMATH OF THE SOVIET UNION. ESPECIALLY AS AN ORPHAN WITH THE STREETS AS HIS HOME. HIS LIFE ISN’T EASY - HE SURVIVES ON SCRAPS AND WHAT LITTLE FOOD SYMPATHETIC PASSERBYERS OFFER HIM. IT’S NOT MUCH BUT HE’S ALIVE AND KICKING - SOMETHING HE DOUBTS HIS PARENTS WOULD HAVE EVER EXPECTED WHEN THEY ABANDONED HIM ON THE STREETS OF GRIMY OL’ MOSCOW.

( “IT’S TO COMPENSATE FOR YOUR SHORT NAME. I CAN’T EVEN FORM A CUTE NICKNAME BECAUSE IT’S SO SHORT!” )

HE HAS NO FUTURE IN RUSSIA. IT IS LEAVE OR DIE AND HE KNOWS IT ALL TOO WELL. MOSCOW IS FULL OF CRIMINAL ACTIVITY, AND WHILE HIS ABILITY IS QUITE EFFECTIVE ON THIEVES, IT CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH AGAINST A GUN. AND HE’S NIMBLE ALRIGHT BUT DODGING THE BULLETS OF A GUN DO GET A BIT TIRESOME AFTER A WHILE. SO WITH ONLY BROKEN SENTENCES OF ENGLISH ON HIS TONGUE, HE WEARS THE SOLES OF HIS SHOES WALKING, HITCHHIKING, AND DOING WHATEVER NECESSARY TO REACH WESTERN EUROPE IN THE QUICKEST AMOUNT OF TIME. HE LOOKS ALMOST TWELVE WHEN HE FINALLY MAKES IT TO ENGLAND. FROM THERE HE SNEAKS INTO A CARGO SHIP DESTINED FOR THE UNITED STATES. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS HAPPEN ALL THE TIME. HE BARELY SLIPS BY UNDETECTED. HE’S A MINIMAL EATER, SO THE CREW DON’T NOTICE THE SLIGHT DECREASE OF FOOD UNTIL MUCH LATER. HE’S HONESTLY SURPRISED THEY EVER NOTICED AT ALL. HE’S SOMEWHERE AROUND TWELVE WHEN HE FINALLY REACHES THE PORT MAFIA.

( “THE NAME STILL DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE. WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT, DON’T YOU THINK IT’S A BIT IRONIC EVEN?” )

HE’S ALMOST DEAD FROM STARVATION WHEN HIS LIFE CHANGES DRASTICALLY. HE’S SUFFERING ALL OVER WHEN HE STUMBLES UPON THE SCENE OF A CRIME. NOW HE’S NO STRANGER TO CRIMINAL ACTIVITY. MOSCOW WAS A HUB OF CRIMINAL ACTIVITY AFTER ALL. IF HE WERE ANYONE ELSE HE SURELY WOULD HAVE RUN. ONLY AN IDIOT WOULD HAVE STAYED. AS IT WERE, HE WAS AN IDIOT. HE STOOD BARELY MOVING, ONCE LIVELY GOLDEN EYES STARING AT THE SCENE WITH A BLANK LOOK. IT DOESN’T TAKE LONG FOR THE KILLER TO NOTICE HIM. A GUN IS RAISED AT THE CHILD. BANG. IT ENTIRELY MISSES AND THE CHILD IS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN. THE KILLER CAUTIOUSLY MOVES FORWARD. INCHING SLOWLY, GUN OUTSTRETCHED. HE REALLY SHOULD HAVE RUN, ESPECIALLY THE MOMENT, HE SPOTTED THE WHITE BLUR. OH WELL. EASY TARGET FOR HIM.

( “NO, I THINK IT SUITS IT PERFECTLY.” )

THE WHITE-HAIRED BOY HOLDS A GUN IN HIS LEFT HAND A SMILE FLICKERING ON AND OFF HIS FACE. THOUGH NON-THREATENING IN BUILD, HIS EYES GLEAM THREATENINGLY. HE STRETCHES OUT WITH HIS RIGHT HAND AND LIGHTLY STROKES THE MAN’S FACE. THE ASSASSIN’S EYES BULGE AND HE JERKS BACK HISSING IN PAIN. “WHO ARE YOU?” THE BOY WHISPERS IN A FOREIGN ACCENT. HE STEPS FORWARD THREATENINGLY. “D-DO YOU MEAN WHO DO I WORK FOR? A-AH, THE P-PORT MAFIA.” “TAKE ME TO YOUR BOSS.” IT’S TRULY A WONDER HOW A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD BOY WITH A PAINFULLY DIRTY LOOK CAN IMPOSE SO MUCH FEAR IN A MAN WORKING FOR THE CITY’S RUTHLESS CRIMINAL ORGANIZATION. AT LEAST HE’S NOT STUPID, LYOV MUSES. HE UNDERSTANDS HIS CIRCUMSTANCES. GOOD. AS THE GUN DISAPPEARS SOMEWHERE UNDER HIS CLOTHES, HE SHAKES HIS RIGHT HAND WITH A MENACING SMILE. “MOVE.” HE NODS. THE MAN WALKS STIFFLY WITH LYOV FOLLOWING BEHIND. THE ODD PAIR GARNER THE ATTENTION OF PASSING BY PEOPLE, BUT LYOV DEFTLY IGNORES THE CURIOUS LOOKS. THEIR FINAL DESTINATION IS A CORPORATE BUILDING. WHY IS HE NOT SURPRISED. “THIS IS IT,” HIS CAPTIVE SAYS, “DON’T MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF. TAKE ME TO YOUR BOSS. THE MAN WHO RUNS EVERYTHING. NOW.” HE FLICKS HIS FINGERS AGAINST THE MAFIOSO MEMBER. HE MOVES FORWARD HESITANTLY. “Y-YOU SURE THAT’S A GOOD IDEA? THE BOSS ISN’T-” HE MUMBLES. “FORWARD.” A MOMENT PASSES BEFORE THEY BEGIN MOVING AGAIN. UP, UP, UP, AND UP. THE MAN BESIDE HIM FIDGETS, PERTURBED BY THE PROXIMITY OF THE BOY’S HAND WITH HIS SKIN. TOO BAD FOR HIM. THEY DON’T KNOCK. LYOV DOESN’T LET HIM. HE TAKES IN THE BOSS OF THE MAFIA WITH A QUICK GLANCE OVER. THIS MAN IS RUTHLESS. HE LIKES RUTHLESS PEOPLE. IT IS WRITTEN ON HIS FACE. SO LYOV KICKS HIS CAPTIVE IN THE SHIN AND A MOMENT LATER, THE MAN SCREECHES WITH A PAINED EXPRESSION. LYOV FEELS THE HEAT RISING FROM THE MAN’S BODY AT A RAPID RATE. HE MOVES HIS HANDS TO GRIP AT THE ASSASSIN’S NECK, HE WATCHES PASSIVELY AS ALL THE COLOR DRAINS FROM THE MAN’S BODY. “…RETRIBUTION,” HE SAYS. “FOR WHAT?” “BEING ANNOYING.” “YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO PAY. YOU’VE TAKEN A SERVICE AWAY FROM ME. NOW YOU MUST GIVE ME YOUR SERVICES IN RETURN.” “OF COURSE.”

( “HM? HOW’S THAT?” )

HIS LIFE DRASTICALLY CHANGES AGAIN WHEN HE MEETS A CURIOUS, GRAY-EYED BOY, THOUGH AT THE TIME HE IS NOT AWARE OF JUST HOW SPECIAL THEIR MEETING IS. ONE DAY, A CHEERFUL BOY COMES UP TO LYOV AND COMPLIMENTS HIS EYE COLOR. “YOU’VE GOT PRETTY EYES,” HE SAYS. AFTER THAT, HE APPROACHES LYOV EVERY DAY, COMPLIMENTING HIM ABOUT SOMETHING. IT WAS STRANGE AND CERTAINLY ANNOYING, BUT IT WAS ALSO HARMLESS SO LYOV DID NOT PAY THE BOY ANY MIND. HE IGNORED THE WEIRD BOY FOR THE MOST PART. UNTIL ONE DAY HE SAID SOMETHING DIFFERENT. “WHY ARE YOU SO LONELY?” A QUESTION, NOT A COMPLIMENT. HE NEVER ANSWERED. NOT THEN, AND NOT EVEN AS THE BOY DIED MANY YEARS LATER. IT’S NOT LIKE HE EVER NEEDED TO SAY ANYTHING. THAT BOY… HE ALWAYS KNEW. IT WAS ALMOST CREEPY HOW PERCEPTIVE THAT BOY WAS. AND FOR A TIME LYOV TRIED TO AVOID HIM. IT DIDN’T LAST LONG. THE SILVER-EYED BOY WAS BACK AT HIS SIDE BEFORE HE KNEW IT. AND HE DIDN’T JUST COMPLIMENT LYOV ANYMORE. HE TALKED. CONVERSED. IT WASN’T LONG BEFORE HE FOUND HIMSELF QUIETLY AGREEING HERE AND THERE.

( “WELL… DIDN’T YOU SAY YOU WERE ABLE TO SURVIVE SO LONG BECAUSE OF IT?” )

THE GRAY-EYED BOY TRULY WAS BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE FROM THE HEAVENS. IT WAS THE BOY WHO LURED LYOV OUT OF HIS SHELL. SURELY, HE WOULD HAVE NEVER BECOME SUCH A LIVELY FIGURE HAD IT NOT BEEN FOR THE BOY. HE DOESN’T THINK HE WOULD HAVE EVER ALLOWED HIMSELF TO LIVE SO MUCH HAD IT NOT BEEN FOR THE BOY. BUT AT THE SAME TIME, THE BOY CRUELLY GAVE HIM A TASTE OF NORMALCY. NORMALCY HE COULD NEVER TRULY OBTAIN. MANY NIGHTS HE AGONIZED OVER HOW HIS LIFE MIGHT HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT IF HE HAD NOT JOINED THE MAFIA. IF HE HAD STAYED HIS HAND THAT DAY. IF HE HAD RUN. IT SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SUCH A SURPRISE THEN, WHEN THE MAFIA ORDERED THE BOY’S EXECUTION. AFTER ALL, IF THERE WAS EVER ANYONE NEARLY AS PERCEPTIVE AS THE BOY, IT WAS THE BOSS.

( “WELL YEAH, BUT… DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT MY ABILITY IS?” )

IT’S NOT EASY TO IGNORE THE SCREAMING. THE SCREAMING SO LOUDLY. IT ALMOST BREAKS HIS CONCENTRATION. HIS HANDS ARE PLANTED TIGHTLY AROUND HIS HANDS AS HE TRIES SO DESPERATELY TO FORGET JUST WHO HE IS USING HIS ABILITY ON. IRONICALLY, THE ONE WHO NAMED HIS ABILITY, FOR REDEMPTION OF SCARLET SNOW. ARGH! HE’S REALLY TRYING TO FORGET BUT HE DOESN’T WANT TO, DAMMIT! BUT HE HAS NO CHOICE. THERE’S NEVER A CHOICE, HE REALIZES. THE MAFIA DOES NOT PROVIDE CHOICES. ONLY ORDERS TO FOLLOW OUT LIKE A ROBOT. AND OF COURSE, IF A MALFUNCTION OCCURS, THERE IS ONLY ONE THING TO DO: ERADICATE IT. AND AS IT WERE, THE BOY SCREAMING IN FRONT OF HIM IS HIS MALFUNCTION. THE BUG TEARING DOWN THE SYSTEM.

( “YOU REFUSE TO TELL ME! OOH, IS THIS WHERE YOU’RE GONNA ADMIT YOUR DEEPEST DARKEST SECRETS? LIKE IN THE MOVIES?” )

HE REFUSES TO LOOK UP. HE DOESN’T THINK HE COULD BEAR THE DISGUST AND PAIN ETCHED ON HIS FACE IF HE LOOKED UP. AND GOD, HE WISHES THE SCREAMING WOULD JUST STOP ALREADY. BUT HE KNOWS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP IT IS HIM, AND HE KNOWS HE WON’T STOP IT. SO HE IS QUIETLY PRAYING - PRAYING FOR A MIRACLE. PRAYING FOR SOMEONE TO SAVE HIM FROM HIS FATE. BECAUSE HE SURE AS HELL CAN’T. HE KNOWS HE’S BEEN AT THIS FOR AT LEAST AN HOUR. IT COULD BE DONE FASTER - JUST UNDER NINE MINUTES IS HIS RECORD AFTER ALL. BUT HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO KILL HIM QUICKLY. HE’S SUPPOSED TO PROLONG IT. TO DRAW IT OUT. AND THEY DON’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IF HE DOESN’T. BUT HE KNOWS WHAT WILL HAPPEN. AND YEAH, HE’S A SELFISH COWARD, BUT HE DOESN’T WANT TO DIE, DAMMIT! HE- HE STILL HAD THINGS HE WANTED TO DO!

( “WHA- HEY! DON’T RUN AWAY- COME BACK, LYOV! YOU GOT TO ANSWER THE QUESTION!” )

HE FORCES HIMSELF TO MOVE ON [ but he never does ]. HE FORCES HIMSELF TO FORGET [ but he never does ]. HE TRIES TO MOVE ON. HE TRIES TO FORGET. EVERY DAY HE TRIES, BUT HE CAN’T. HE’S STUCK IN LIMBO. HE CAN’T FORGET. HE CAN NEVER FORGET.

( HE COULD NEVER FORGET HIS ONLY FRIEND, GRAY OWENS. )

HE IS NINETEEN.

SAMPLE WRITING. ( prompt: “on a scale from one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?” - “i’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.” – thefakeredhead, no 331 )

His heart beats loudly against his chest. It bangs and bounces without the same gentle touch it treated him just over an hour ago when he still thought the gray-eyed boy died fourteen years ago. He desperately smiles, fighting the urge to run. He’s an expert at hiding his fear, so his fingers do not curl (which would hurt, by the way) and his shoulders shrug back casually. But the gray-eyed boy glares at him unimpressed and he immediately knows Gr-Owens can see right through his carefully practiced mask. It is unfair, really. The gray-eyed boy has always possessed the uncanny ability to read his mind like an open book. It was never the other way, and more so today as he stares at the gray-eyed boy (well, perhaps not a boy anymore, but he still clings on to those sweet memories). The only emotion he can discern is understandable disgust. Disgust he completely deserves for abandoning his only friend. He does not quite know how to respond to the gray-eyed boy. Not when his only expression is cold disgust mixed with a load of anger. But he does know Owens awaits his answer vindictively if his crosses arms are anything to go by. That leaves him with only one option left: to bullshit his way through. So he adorns the most annoying smirk he can muster and says smoothly, “But you won’t anyway.” He’d be shocked if Owens refuted him. The gray-eyed boy had every right to kill him. Nothing held him back. Especially not after the pain he put him through. Besides, a coward like him did not deserve to live. Yet as he admitted it to himself, a large piece of him refused to die. He would fight and scratch and claw even the gray-eyed boy if need be. He’s already killed (or at least he thought he killed) him once - what’s a second time to him? ‘Everything,’ a sad and quiet voice that definitely was not his whispers. Everything, yes. But he’s willing to sacrifice everything if it means surviving.

( a/n: he’s hallucination owens - owens is most definitely dead and this is just him guilt-tripping himself and coming to the conclusion that he’s an immoral man who will do pretty much anything to survive )

(OC. SHOGO MAKISHIMA, psycho path)

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