a dissonance.

lee jeongmin. ( lorelei ) 23 years old. mutant. vocal pathokinesis --- music therapist piano teacher & information broker

[kmuzaayk]

Visit Original Link

Babylon (베이빌론) - 너 나 우리 (Feat. Dok2)

[phxljm-blog]

// tonight’s company.

@jiaxph​

Alcohol is something he can’t stand, staying out late leaves him weary and drained, and dealing with others almost impossible despite the abundant amount of energy he holds. Jeongmin isn’t one for the nightlife. He despises the atmosphere despite how he presents himself. It’s suffocating, people are often rowdy with no sense of personal space, and he’s already had to endure his parent’s parties in the past. The unpleasant memories leave a bitter taste in his mouth. However, he finds himself at the Silver Needle cradling a glass of whiskey in his hands.

It’s a situation he finds incredibly unfavorable for himself and is everything he had expected. It’s loud, it smells terrible, and there are drunks scattered throughout the establishment. He is lucky that it’s near closing hours, but he has the misfortune of dealing with the lingering customers who are beyond, if he has to put it politely, piss drunk.

Despite his overall situation, he’s here for a reason. The Silver Needle has a reputation, strippers, alcohol, familiar faces, and of course the fights. It’s a hub of information and although he’s agreed to work with the owner there’s still the looming possibility of betrayal. Even if an agreement was made between the two, he still had to gain her trust which is not something he exactly has.

It’s close to the closing hour and he begins to search for the woman. He easily evades what’s left of the customers, taking quick strides to where he believes Jia is. He finds her quickly, spotting her leaning against the bar, her sharp eyes scanning the establishment. An intimidating scene, but he’s dealt with much worse. He heads towards her, settling himself next to the woman and flashing her friendly smile. “You’re closing up pretty soon, right?” He asks, “would you want some help? Free of charge of course.”

[phxljm-blog]

// familiar faces.

@phxchangsun

There are many things he can tolerate, however tardiness is exempted from it. He may be late to events, a common trait he’s retained even as a child, but anyone were to be late to an appointment with him it’s unacceptable. Even if they were a person who’s known him for quite a time, or if they were on friendly terms with him, it’s still unacceptable. It means many things, such as postponing other appointments—he is a busy person after all­—and leaving his clienteles and patients waiting. As someone with a profession like his it’s extremely unfavorable.

“You’re late,” he comments, not looking up from his book. He barely acknowledges the figure by his door. There’s no point anyways. Their relationship is unique, or what he believes to be unique. They’re not exactly friends, but they’re extremely acquainted with each other. Not exactly something Jeongmin had expected when dumped onto the island to begin with. However, their relationship is purely beneficial. In the end, they’re his client and he’s the one gathering information for him.

He closes the book, setting it on the desk, and flashes a smile. “We’ve known each other for a while, but that doesn’t mean you can take advantage of it.” He motions for the man to sit, his expression remaining ambiguous. However, it quickly falls and he settles for a slight pout. “We settled for a time, c’mon Chan-Chan, you can’t do this to me.”

The nickname slips easily from him, the corner of his lips pulls into a smirk. The moment however is brief and he clears his throat. “Tardiness aside, I have what you want, hopefully.” He pulls a folder from his desk, “you just have to give me something worth-while, that’s all.”

[phxljm-blog]

control.

[minahxxkang-blog]

Her eyes darted up to him for a moment, just a moment, before returning to their original position. While Eunji wished she were somewhere - anywhere - else, he sounded kind enough. Sounded like he actually cared. Sounded like he wasn’t lying. And she wanted to believe him. God, did she want to believe him. 

More frequent. 

Why did that make her scared? Why did that make her teeth catch the bottom of her lip and the shadows beneath her writhe but remain on the ground. Eunji bit her lip a bit more forcefully, reigning in her powers as much as she could. It only made the shadows recede slightly. She forced her eyes to face his own. It was the least she could do. 

Her eyes followed his gestures though, eyebrows raising at the musical instruments. This was new. Unexpected, There was peace in music, wasn’t there? She hadn’t enjoyed enough to know. Too many times, her family had drowned out their arguments by blaring something, anything really. 

“Does it work? The music?” Eunji heard herself ask, eyes on the piano and tone a little wistful. It would be wonderful if it did work. If her control did grow even the slightest, it would have been worth it. He probably heard the question more often than he liked but, still, it was out there and there was nothing she could do to take it back, despite whatever she might wish. 

She pulled her eyes back to the man in front of her, “What convinced you to do this?” Her hand gestured towards the room, “All of it, I mean.” It was easy to ask questions of others, when she had been forced into the situation, when she desperately didn’t want to talk about herself. Even with his promises of confidentiality, Eunji felt that she could trust him about as far as she could throw him, powerless. It wasn’t much.

[phxljm-blog]

Eye-contact, eye-contact was finally made! It may be brief but it does mean that their relationship (as therapist and patient of course) was progressing. However, the excitement was cut short—the nervous demeanor returned. His words had triggered her, somehow, something he will have to ease out of the girl. He continues to observe her. Teeth gnawing on the bottom of her lips, his gaze moves to the floor. The shadows were moving, a reflection to the anxiety she was experiencing he assumes.

The question surprises him. Jeongmin hadn’t expected one, especially with how she was reacting previously. There was still the anxiety, the fear, and the distrust, but that was normal, something he were to expect and something he’s seen in almost all his patients. “Most of the time it does,” he answers happily. “It depends on the individual and how they cope with traumatic events.”

His eyes wander to the piano. “There’s never one method for a patient, it depends on them. Some are fine with me playing the piano for them, others would rather play it themselves.” He shrugs, returning his gaze to the champion. “Everyone just happens to be different and the case is the same with you, we just have to find what fits best.”

Her gaze shifts from the instruments to him, another question slips from her. One, he had yet to hear from anyone. There are many answers to the question. He could tell her the truth, that it’s all a guise for him to maintain a clean image. That he was able to ease information out of individuals through the profession and that the abilities that had manifested through the experiments only made the profession every bit easier for him. He could tell her the truth, but he’s a hypocrite and a liar. He’s a manipulative man who only worries about himself, so he merely smiles, opting for a different response instead.

“I found that people find my voice soothing,” he easily says. “And I already knew how to play the piano and easily picked up the guitar.” He pauses, trying to structure the sentence within his mind. “I’ve been interested in the occupation since there were so many that were suffering and if music was the only thing I had then why not? If it helps them, then it’s worth it, right?”

[phxljm-blog]

afternoon tea.

[mariicn]

Hearing the younger man’s voice evoked a ghost of a smile to decorate the champion’s lips, the man pleased with  the other’s answer. His fingers brushed against his doll’s hair before pulling away, the twin Dutch braids now complete on ebony hair. He shifted his shoulder, adjusting the handheld device balancing upon the joint as he flipped the doll around, examining its exterior once more for minor flaws. 

“Not before unwanted pests attempt to get their own fair share,” the brunet murmured as he rose, grasping the petite figurine with him as he strode across his room. “You’ll be deleted in my entree today; I can guarantee that.” The perk of escorting came with two charms: the most obvious being money and the second lied within the fact that information had been painfully easy to obtain. With his ubiquitous ears and fine facade, Junho found himself divulged within a rich position, regardless of being exploited, as a heart amount of his clients had been individuals affiliated with the government, eager to spill secrets in moments of heightened bliss.

“Shall I set our luncheon for an hour from now?” Junho inquired as his finished masterpiece found her respective place upon mahogany shelves, grouped with similar sisters and brothers, as the doll master stepped back and admired his craft. His fingers finally wrapped upon the warmed surface of his iPhone, seizing the device now in his grasp in order to talk properly to Lorelei. “The mice are still alert in Champion’s Road, it will take me awhile to slip away without being noticed.” A simple glance outside his window provided the champion with the awareness of the guards that patrolled the empty streets, their faces permanently stoic. Curiously, one man snapped his gaze towards Junho’s abode, causing the male to slip back into the shadows of his room as he soon added, “Might I say, these rats are restless.”

[phxljm-blog]

There’s a nagging thought at the back of his mind, however, he’s unsure of what. He’s forgetting something, not exactly crucial, but it is something. His attention returns to the conversation at hand, a small threat was made and it’s nothing he finds threatening, honestly. It would just mean the champion wouldn’t receive the information he desired and the same goes for him. But there’s no reason for him to allow others to get between their luncheons, Marion is an important client after all.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies easily as he pushes himself up from the chair. He begins to head towards the cabinets and carefully perches the phone onto his shoulder, pressing his cheek onto the device. “This is solely between the two of us and you’re my best customer to begin with.” And the best customer deserved only the best, Jeongmin muses, pulling the drawer open. The information the man wanted he had yet to show to anyone else, saved just for this occasion (or until someone offered him a better deal). He shuffles through the files, pulling only the ones he finds essential, returning to his desk and throwing them onto it haphazardly.

“Oh, so they’re mice now?” He allows a laugh to escape. He wouldn’t exactly call them mice, or rats, but seeing that they constantly patrol the area—of course Marion would view them differently. The woes of being a champion, kept constantly in check and the freedoms that they were offered were all for naught. Typical, Jeongmin can’t help but to think. “Thought they were more of watch dogs than mice, but I guess they’re more of pests to you,” he muses. He sits himself back in front of his desk, shuffling through the files he had managed to acquire. “But an hour should be fine. That’s enough time for you to leave without them nipping at your feet, right?”

[kiihong]

[phxljm-blog]

incoming ooc post !!

heyooo, welcome to all the members i missed out during my hiatus and guess im free-ish since my last two finals just happen to be the easier ones \o/ but welcome welcome!! if you’d like to plot with jeongmin (pls do) just hmu through the im or my ask! i’ll also try to have a plots page up by this weekend ;u;

[hanarichinspiration-blog]

[all] quirks my muse habitually has.

Writers, bold all of your character’s regular truths.

1. Smoking: the action or habit of inhaling and exhaling the smoke of tobacco or a drug. 2. Binge drinking: the consumption of an excessive amount of alcohol in a short period of time. 3. Drug abuse: the habitual taking of illegal drugs. 4. Nail biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 5. Lip biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 6. Night Owl: a person who is habitually active or wakeful at night. 7. Early bird: a person who rises, arrives, or acts before the usual or expected time. 8. Negative attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with criticism and pessimism. 9. Positive attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with optimism and confidence. 10. Swearing: the use of offensive language. 11. Superstitious: an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome. 12. Inspecting fingernails: a common body language sign of boredom. 13. Scratching your neck: a common body language sign of uncertainty. 14. Foot and finger tapping: a common body language sign of stress/impatience. 15. Nose touch: a subtle body language sign of deceit. 16. Flipping hair: a common body language sign of craving attention. 17. Twirling hair: a common body language sign of flirtation. 18. Cracking knuckles: a common body language sign of readiness. 19. Hands behind back: a common body language sign of confidence. 20. Finger pointing: a common body language sign of authority. 21. Hands on hips: a common body language sign of readiness. 22: Hands in pockets: a common body language sign of mistrust/reluctance. 23. Frequent touch: a common body language sign of warmth/familiarity. 24. Throat-clearing: a common body language sign of rejection/doubt. 25: Jaw-clenching: a common body language sign of hostility. 26: Eye-rolling: a common body language sign of irritation. 27: Head-tilt: a common body language sign of interest. 28. Whistling: to emit high-pitched sound by forcing breath through a small hole between one’s lips or teeth; usually to a tune. 29. Humming: make a low, steady continuous sound like that of a bee; usually to a tune. 30. Perfectionism: refusal to accept any standard short of perfection. 31. Photographic memory: the ability to remember information or visual images in great detail. 32. Paranoia: a mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self-importance, typically worked into an organized system. 33. Exaggeration: a statement that represents something as better or worse than it really is. 34: Intuitive: using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive. 35: Quick-witted: showing or characterized by an ability to think or respond quickly and effectively. 36: Interrupting: breaking the continuity of a conversation with one’s own statements. 37: Doodling: to scribble or make rough drawings, absent-mindedly. 38: Irritable: having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed. 39: Gambling: to play games of chance for money; bet. 40: Travel-sick: suffering from nausea caused by the motion of a moving vehicle, boat, or aircraft. 41: Sensitive: having or displaying a quick and delicate appreciation of others’ feelings. 42: Melancholy: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause. 43: Chewing gum: the exercise of chewing flavoured gum which is not intended for swallowing. 44: Fidgeting: to make small movements, especially of the hands and feet, through nervousness or impatience. 45: Sceptical: not easily convinced; having doubts or reservations. 46: Neat-freak: compulsively obsessed with cleanliness. 47: Gossiping: divulging personal information about others. 48: Prim: feeling or showing disapproval of anything regarded as improper; stiffly correct. 49: Abbreviating: Giving others nicknames/shortening names/giving pet names. 50: Having a catchphrase: having a sentence or phrase typically associated with a specific person.

[phxljm-blog]

control.

[minahxxkang-blog]

It was rare when Eunji wanted to leave her home. Terrible things tended to happen when she did. And when the government had wanted to parade her around as the newest Champion, with lingering touching and drifting hands, how else was she to respond besides curling into herself until the offending hand was removed. Unfortunately, that typically meant that her shadows were the ones removing the appendage.

Which lead the government to rescind their invitations. 

Really, it wasn’t an issue to her. The nightmares were hard but, in someways, preferable to what she knew would happen if she lost control again. The feeling of blood dripping across her skin still gave made her skin crawl. Which lead her to the desk in front of her. While the wording in her letter hadn’t specifically been a command, the meaning was clear. She would attend these sessions and learn to properly control her powers.

As if that were possible.

The government had tried, for years, they had tried. Had tried so hard, she had broken mentally, repairing herself to the best of her abilities and yet the fragments still remained, sharp and dangerous.  She wondered what kind of person her therapist was. He sounded kind, though she knew how easy it was to fake that. Her fingers twisted on herself as she did her best to control her breathing. This was a relativly safe space, she didn’t have to fear an attack here, didn’t have to worry about something dangerous happening. 

It might be recorded though. He might be sending it all back to your scientist for evaluations. They’re watching you. They’re always watching.

The thoughts came unbidden, as they were wont to do, and her hands twisted faster, tighter between themselves. “I was told that I would need to be here every other Thursday until my condition improves,” she mumbled, staring at the desk in front of her instead of the person, missing the hand entirely. 

[phxljm-blog]

Introductions completely ignored once more and his hand continues hanging in the air before he retracts it, coughing into the hand out of pure awkwardness. He takes note of the girl’s demeanor. She’s nervous, anxious, on edge, and suspicious of him. Her demeanor is obvious, her fingers are curled into her body attempting to ease and stabilize her breathing. Her eyes are fixated to his desk instead of him.  His friendly demeanor had only made her suspect him, she only feels distrust, and using his powers would only complicate the situation. It would confuse her despite the influences of his voice. It would only bring conflicting thoughts and unwanted results.

They shouldn’t have forced a patient like her onto him. He’s only a music therapist, the only professional help he is able to give is through music sessions and in hopes of giving an outlet to the patient.

He’s not even allowed to diagnose the patient, well, not yet.

However, a patient is a patient and if he was assigned to her there has to be some benefits from it, right? That’s how it has been for the past patients he’s been assigned to, the ones that have been unwilling and left somewhat functioning as a regular citizen. For now, Jeongmin feels, it’s best to calm the girl and build her trust in him.

“That’s if I feel that the appointments need to be more frequent of course,” he replies. “And to answer the unanswered question I asked earlier,” He motions to the piano and guitar in the corner of his office, “I’m a music therapist, so expect lots of music from me, okay?”

Jeongmin leans forward, perching his chin on the palms of his hands and maintains a friendly smile. “So, any questions? Or anything you want me to know before we start our first session?” He pauses. “Oh, all sessions are private and only between the two of us,” he adds, hoping it would somewhat ease the girl’s worries, “confidentiality is extremely important to me and there’s no way I would allow any of this to be leaked to any outside force. But, any questions?”

[phxljm-blog]

afternoon tea.

[mariicn]

Contrary to popular beliefs, Junho had never withdrew himself from the war that raged between the rebellion and the government. No longer an extremist under Lotus, it was evident that the doll master lacked a major role within the politics of Jangmi Island and he had been mended into a plastic figurehead, his voice projected from the government’s megaphones. Despite his public allegiance to the government, the champion categorized more as an instigator. He fueled the heat of the debate by fluctuating personally between the two sides, one day for the government and the other for the rebellion, depending  on which side held a greater personal gain. 

Had it not been for his status as a champion and the intangible collar suffocating him as he stayed at the government’s knees, Junho would have classified either as a ‘neutral’ individual or an ‘anarchist’.

Naturally, with his loyalties under constant change, an indomitable craving for information of either group nestled itself within the brunet’s core. He attended government meetings frequently when permitted, the token experiment of the batch, and frequently found himself vaguely caught up with the authority’s plan of action in regards to Jangmi Island. The doll master found he had never been dissatisfied with the exposition laid out by the authoritative rule, as he was a champion and thus was differentiated by the general experiment batch.  But what about the rebellion?  With the drastic change of ideals he had undergone through the victory of Jindallae, Junho found himself banished from Lotus’ perimeters. He was a vile fiend in their eyes, an A-class traitor, and the resentment that clung heavily upon his frame prevented him from being able socialize with individuals associated under the rebellion.  With restrictions pressed upon him and an overbearing thirst for information, it was only inevitable that the brunet would charge to the drastic to satisfy himself, thus leading to the acquaintanceship with an information broker– Lorelei. Needless to say, the outcome had been satisfying.

“Disregarding your introduction, I have received bacon freshly from the pigs and appetizers on the side,”  the doll master had announced through phone one day, his free hand combing the honey locks of a ball-jointed doll, “I assume you have the rice steamed?” He propped his phone on shoulder, concentrating his hands to arrange his doll’s hair into two Dutch braids, “I am rather famished, Ahjumma, as I have been deprived lately. Our luncheon should begin two hours from now.”

[phxljm-blog]

His introduction was completely disregarded and pushed aside. There’s no appreciation and he feels somewhat discouraged—a lie, but he’d like to think he feels that way—and disappointed (which happens to be another lie). He doesn’t mind it, he’s used to it if anything. He finds that even most of his clients, even patients, have gotten used to his eccentric introductions, talkative nature, and rather loud personality which is all a front he likes to put on. However, the relationship he has with the Champion is mutualistic. Both enjoy gossip and both benefit from it, information from both sides with no possibility of each other betraying each other, well, unless the situation calls for it. A win-win situation, something he hasn’t found with any of his other clients.

The clients Jeongmin has mostly dealt with are far from dependable and rarely does he gets what he truly wants. They’re not there for gossip. They’re not there to give him the information he desires. They’re figures hiding from the public’s eyes, hidden and lurking within the shadows. It’s pure business. He provides the information and they return with a payment. His life is on the line if he were to provide false information, if he were to reveal their names to their enemies. They were not enjoyable to talk with, unable to toy with unless he wants to risk his own life, and conversations were impossible.

Business jargon has never been something Jeongmin had liked to begin with.

He doesn’t mind Marion oddly enough. Despite the man being wordy, a lot more elegant with his speech than he will ever be, he doesn’t mind him. They provide each other with a full course meal and that’s something he has had to have with anyone else.

His head leans onto the back of his chair and he can’t help but to chuckle at the appointed name, fitting for his own nature he would have to say. “The rice has been cooking for a while now, but everything will be ready for you by then, not to worry.” He leans forwards, grinning at the possibilities of what the Champion would have to provide for this session of afternoon tea. “Pleased to know that bacon’s fresh for once and those appetizer’s better be good, rice and all the side dishes can’t be left to sit for too long, now, can it?”

[phxljm-blog]

εжз♥☾

εжз - what about nature do theyfind calming? what about nature do they find disagreeable?

The subtle sounds made throughout nature is what Jeongmin finds calming. However, he finds nature discomforting. There are times where it’s too quiet, where he’s left alone with his thoughts. It leaves him feeling unsettled, itching to do something that isn’t purely being surrounded by nature.

❤ -describe a physical action that shows complete trust.

Trust is difficult to achieve withJeongmin—he tries not to show it as well. He isn’t one to show physical actions that aren’t related to his occupation as a information broker. However, how he shows complete trust can be seen through small subtle touches, a touch on the shoulder or arm. They’re very small gestures and barely noticeable. 

☾ -on a sleepless night, what would they be found doing?

Sleepless nights are rare for Jeongmin. However, as a person dedicated to music (and also to gathering information) he composes music during the nights he finds himself lost in his thoughts unable to sleep. 

[aravis-tarkheena-archive]

Character Stats Framework

[phxljm-blog]

FULL NAME: Lee Jeongmin

NICKNAME(S): Lorelei

TITLE/STATUS: A Noisy Information Broker

AGE: 23

BIRTHDAY: January 2nd, 1993

Species: Human (Experiment)

NATIONALITY: South Korean

GENDER: Male

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Aromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Asexual

RELIGION: Agnostic 

OCCUPATION: Music therapist, piano teacher, information broker

Relationships

BIRTH ORDER: Only child

PARENTS: Lee Minjae, Jung Youngji

SIBLINGS: None

Significant Other(s): None

Enemies: None (or what he believes is none)

Physical Traits

Eye Color(s): Dark Brown

Hair Color(s): Natural: Dark brown- almost black; Current: Brown

Height: 171 cm / 5′7′’

Weight: 60 kg / 132 lb

Body Build: Short & slim

Notable Physical Traits: Scarring on arms, legs and torso formed during experimentation.

Phobias and Diseases

Phobia(s): Needles, sharp objects, and small contained dark areas

Mental Disease(s): N/A

When and how was this diagnosed?: –

Physical Disease(s): —

When was this diagnosed and/or how did it happen?: —

Stats

Compassion: 4/10

Empathy: 4/10

Creativity: 7/10

Mental Flexibility: 8/10

Passion/Motivation: 6/10

Education: 7/10

Stamina: 2/10

Physical Strength: 3/10

Battle Skill: 0/10

Initiative: 1/10

Restraint: 9/10

Agility: 4/10

Strategy: 7/10

Teamwork: 6/10

Look here, here, and here

Musical-Rhythmic Intelligence: 9.5/10

Visual-Spatial Intelligence: 5.5/10

Verbal-Linguistic Intelligence: 7/10

Logical-Mathematical Intelligence: 3/10

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence: 4/10

Interpersonal Intelligence: 8/10

Intrapersonal Intelligence: 7/10

[la-nero-maestro]

Visit Original Link

Impromptu No.2 In E Flat Major, Op.90, D.899 - Allegro

By Composer Franz Peter Schubert

Alfred Brendel, Pianist

[phxljm-blog]

control.

@eunji-ph

Most of his clients were previous experiments during the Project who were unable to rid themselves of the memories and nightmares. Anxiety and terror dominated their lives, paranoia was common as well. They only came to him once all their resources were exhausted. Sometimes others do come in, but it’s a rare occurrence, especially with his lack of recognition. However, music therapy, he finds, is incredibly effective (with an added effect of his own abilities). Wasn’t it already good that he was able to find some use with his abilities and adoration for music?

He just hadn’t expected the government to send their own champion to him. This had never happened and he had expected it to continue as it is, so when a government official approached him with files on a champion he was thoroughly shocked. He’s given an official order to help one of the champions control their own powers (a result of trauma he assumes) to prevent anymore deaths.

And here, he finds himself at his desk in silence.

The girl sits in front of him, her gaze is elsewhere. Jeongmin looks down at the files in front of him. It was a basic profile of the girl, name, age, height, weight, her health status, everything he needed was here. He scans over the information a last time:

NAME: Jung Eunji ALIAS: La Petite Mort AGE: 22 STATUS: Champion of June 2013 DIAGNOSIS: Shadow Manipulation, unable to control her powers.

“Usually,” he starts, “I’d ask you how you’re feeling, but I feel like you wouldn’t want that.” He gives her a friendly smile, forcing a happy cheer into his voice. “How ‘bout we start with introductions?” He extends his hand towards her. “I’m Lee Jeongmin, your therapist, I guess. Have they informed you of what type of therapist I am? I bet not!”

[flonnexph-blog]

Illogical opposition | Open Thread

The silver district seemed to house a lot more habitable personas than what the void district had to offer. Seyong was the exception to this of course as there was nothing wrong with him, he couldn’t comment the same about the rest of them. Dirt came to mind, especially the people he made business with. But they were customers nonetheless. 

This festival seemed to being out all of the disposable cretins that Seyong despised. People willingly protesting the tournament that was just around the corner, it didn’t make any sense to the young male. It was useless to do anything as well, considering the amount of people that were around. Attacking someone didn’t seem like the best way to deal with the situation, considering the government could turn on his head just like that. He had heard of experiences like that, but they must of not been doing their job correctly. Working as an officer was a privilege as well as an honor.

What exactly where the government thinking, giving Chrysanthemum members the ability to protest? It all seemed fabricated. Standing in front of stall with a slouch in his stance he shook his head. He knew understanding such people was completely below him as they probably would never make a solid case against it, other than the conditions of experiments are awful. Would be nice for a different tune to be sung once in awhile. ‘’I swear to god, what is the world coming to?’’ 

Raising his voice at them would cause nothing but trouble, so this time he would have to silently protest the protest. If only the rebellion was silent as well.

[phxljm-blog]

He finds himself away from the Mindeule Arcade for once, loitering near the stalls. He’s far from interested in enlisting, if anything he’s against it. The fame and glamour, although tempting, was something he had abandoned the moment they had dumped him on the island.  If anything, he’s more interested in the protest nearby. Their voices are loud and demanding of attention, handing out pamphlets filled with information of god knows what. Jeongmin’s not one for protest or the rebellion, never, it’d put him at risk of losing his job and potential clients. 

And yet here’s here, scouting for information. He finds this to be the ideal moment, it’s easy to ease information with emotions at high. He could easily feign interest, pretend to be on their side and sympathize with him. These were the easiest to manipulate after all. Something else catches his eye however. An officer stands to side, shaking his head at the protest. The government is actually sending out their dogs to keep an eye. A grin forms, expected but it makes his job easier.

It’s amusing observing the man. His disapproval for the stall and protest was apparent. But there wasn’t much he could do, he worked for the government- there were too many risks, none that were deemed as ideal. A dog to the government should stay loyal to them after all. Jeongmin moves closer to the man, standing only a couple feet away. He was far enough where they wouldn’t notice him, but close enough to continue observing him-- that was, until they spoke. He can’t help but to laugh, catching the attention of the other.

“I dunno, but it’s never been a great place now has it?” he answers easily, flashing a friendly smile. “Unless you were talking about a different world? I wouldn’t exactly know, would I?”

[mariicn]

♛» OF HEATHENS AND MEN.

MINDUELLE ARCADE. The entertainment center was roaring with laughter of individuals of all origins and ages alike gathered within the building, either taking a break from the festival that boomed outside or those who purposely came ignorant to the festival as they had better means to squander time. Among the population within the arcade, teenagers made up the majority of bodies as the young adults and older were more attracted to the night life and other means of recreational activities available. Had it not been for the fact that he did not want to report back to bouncer duties, Junho would have slithered out of the arcade to seek the inner peace he had lost.

Equipped already in the doll master’s hand was a bean pillow of Conductor Whiskers from Neko Atsume, a present for Anakin who was going to be spending yet another night without the presence of his master, and the prize had been rightfully snatched from a frivolous young girl who had already wasted half her earnings on one simple crane machine. There would have been a fight over the brunet seizing the pillow, too, had the girl not recognized him as Marion, the champion, who would have ripped off a limb had she dared to test him.

The evening was still young when Junho began to stride towards the exit, now interested in a chance to gamble, when a sight made him stop abrupt within his tracks. It was Jeongmin, an individual familiar and neutral within the brunet’s ties, attempting to defeat a notably younger child in a round of Street Fighter–or whatever the arcade game was. The sight made the champion give out a choke of laughter and, after the kid gave out a screech as he was defeated, the brunet sauntered up to the music teacher with a quirked eyebrow.

“Tormenting children, now are we?” the doll master questioned, an amused smirk bewitching his lips, “I suppose you haven’t done that enough already in the classroom?”

[phxljm-blog]

A child begins to cry and Jeongmin finds himself shushing the kid and desperately humming a semblance of a song—anything to stop the crying. It’s the fifth one he’s beat in a game and the third one he’s had to calm down. “Hey, please don’t cry?” He asks calmly (the panic in his voice was apparent, it only caused the child to bawl even louder). Adults are eyeing at him, whispering behind his back, and the last kid he beat at Street Fighter is glaring at him. Eventually they stop crying and finds themselves distracted by the crane game. He sighs in relief and returns to the machine. Had he really stooped this low to beat children at arcade games? Yes, he has, but it’s for a good cause… or that’s what he likes to believe.

He convinces himself that he’s doing this for the sake of the children. He’s purely trying to teach them how to play the game, there’s no other intent other than that. It’s not because he enjoys the satisfaction of winning, or the fact that others (children) are staring at him in awe. It’s far from that. The same boy from before approaches him with determination burning in his eyes, he shoves a handful of quarters at him and demands a rematch. He easily agrees, declaring that it’s his last game and they begin to play.

He wins.

It’s not a surprise. The boy looks upset, stomping his feet and demanding for another rematch. Here, he would be gloating in victory, but a familiar voice startles him. He turns, blinks at the man and gives him a sheepish smile. “Me? Tormenting children?” He glances at the previous kid, still upset, still glaring at him, and shakes his head. “That fits you more than it fits me, plus I was only teaching him.” He grins—but it disappears the moment he feels a piercing pain shoot through his leg.

“Shi—hey!” The boy runs, his laughter fading into the crowd. He grabs at his leg, hissing in pain. “That was uncalled for, shit.” He rubs his leg, cursing under his breath. He points at the Champion. ”You, don’t say anything or I swear, there’ll be less rice and kimchi at our next luncheon.”

[phchanyeol-blog]

Calm the Beast

@phxljm

Park Chanyeol had finally found the power that completely took him over rather than him taking it over. The match was the most spectacular spectacle that anyone had ever saw that the Crimson Ring. Chanyeol’s opponent was a man with Berserker Physiology and as soon as he laid a hand on him, Chanyeol was able to mimic that power. What he didn’t realize was that with Berserker Physiology, if you haven’t learned to master it, you completely succumb to it, meaning all rationality is tossed out the window. Chanyeol had no control over his emotions or actions, he was on a complete path towards destruction that did not stop with his opponent. Once he had taken down the original owner of the Berserker Physiology, he did didn’t stop at just him, he started to move out of the ring, trying to get to anyone else he could find. 

Of course this was not safe for the patrons that actively came to watch the fights, so the rest of the boxers and fighters came to try and take him down, try to calm him down. Although they were able to keep him in the ring, it seemed like Chanyeol wouldn’t be calming down anytime soon. Fortunately there was someone in the audience that new a guy that could help. 

“M-Mr. Lee! Please it’s an emergency, no I’m fine, but please!” He begged the therapist. “There’s been an incident at Crimson Ring, we need you right away! One of the boxers has gone crazy and he’s attacking everyone! Please come right away!” The patron said before running out the door, scared for his own safety. 

[phxljm-blog]

Generally, he doesn’t get calls. He deals with patients in the comforts of his office and with them at a safe distance away from him. His patients are also far from dangerous, a danger to themselves, but not to him. Jeongmin doesn’t consider his more quick tempered patients as dangerous, oh no, they were so far his best patients. And he has slow days, only one or two of his patients would sign in for their daily sessions. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, one of his clients would contact him in hopes to exchange information (or if he has anything to sell). He never really expects a phone call from anyone either—never did he get calls, not from his office phone.

And yet, he finds his phone ringing. He raises a brow, squinting at the small display on the phone and picks it up. “Hello, Lee’s Music Thera—” A desperate voice cuts him off and he frowns. “I’ve told you not to call me Mr. Lee how many times now? And are you okay? Aren’t you due for your next appointment with—“ His frown deepens. “An emergency? Attacking everyone? Sheesh, you’d think the Crimson Ring has some sort of control over their fighters.” A sigh escapes and he runs a hand through his hair. Another hassle to deal with, one that could have been properly prevented as well. “I’m coming, just—be careful, try to stay away from the boxer.” He hangs up, grabs his belongings, and hurries out of his office, yelling at the secretary to cancel all his appointments and to reschedule them.

“This better be worth it,” he mumbles.

He finds himself at the fight club thirty minutes later, out of breath and pushing through the crowd outside the building. The caller is nowhere to be found. How the hell was he supposed to solve this issue now? “Okay, who called me?” He questions, eyeing the crowd. They’re tense, eyes filled with fear. 

He suppresses a sigh and instead smiles. “I’m a music therapist,” he starts calmly. His soothing voice spreads among the crowd and the fear within their eyes begin to placate. “It’s not a known profession, but I should be able to calm the boxer that lost control. So, is there anyone here that can direct me to the rampaging boxer? That’d be great.”