reality bites ,

known only as proxy. npc account for first class

[proxyxfc]

/ / . . .

his lips curve into something of a smile -- lee jaehwan. there were little, lasting impressions of the male, but that was perhaps all the more reason to be glad for their living arrangements.

for the moment, he was just as much a victim to chance as the rest of his "schoolmates" --

down to his affliction of a personality shift that he couldn't quite shake.

that was why one didn't create new worlds with a bad mood. no wonder everyone seemed to have sticks up their--

or were they all like this before?

his smile falters a little, stricken by the thought of the mayhem of the greater reality outside of this bubble. just waiting to come crashing in the moment he let his guard down.

he had to make it out of busan alive.

the male refocuses on his path, walking down the hallways on a certain path to meet his roommate.

[proxyxfc]

/ / . . .

he takes note of the group of students descending to the depths of the school, head tilted and lips curved into the ghost of a smirk. did they think it would be that easy? it takes little more than a thought; a twitch of his fingers against his temple and a rune appears beneath the floor, easily twice as large as any seen thus far . . .

[proxyxfc]

his plan is simple. at least in theory, but he doesn’t think about the hurdles to jump. the persecution painted on the old tv across from him isn’t his earned burden, but rather an excuse made to pardon their power lust. long fingers curl around the pen in his grasp, before he returns his attention to the simple notepad in front of him, where countless ideas are scrawled in nearly illegible writing.

it doesn’t matter.

he’s memorized the rules twenty times over. the game continues with little more than a sip of his third and last energy drink and a glance at the first line. the floor lurches under his feet, walls warping as if being wrung like a wet cloth. lights flicker, but his eyes remained trained on the page for another minute before they fall shut.

already, he is lost to the onslaught of simultaneous thought and execution as the meager motel room at the edge of town becomes the birthplace of a new reality.

his own, fun little bubble — away from the hopelessness of men, with their fleeting loyalties.

he is betrayed, devoid of hope for this world.

it’s time to make another.

[proxyxfc]

“how many have we caught now?”

“five…? ten? i don’t know.”

the soldiers talk among themselves, standing on the street corner with weapons held close and eyes vigilant. casual words are exchanged between comrades — “let’s catch the next of these bastards. get a metal.” — while cars drive by on the darkened street. glimmering concrete reflects the light of towering skyscrapers in the distance. yellows, blues and reds.

he observes from his shelter in the shadows. heart pounding. nose burning with the smell of asphalt and fresh, midnight rain.

his thumb plays with the lighter clasped tightly in his palm, flipping the lid open and shut. the cold, shrill wisp of metal clashing serves as a salve to his panicked mind, giving the young, trapped male a long moment to think as he stares at the soldiers.

thinks of the ones who will be following soon enough.

dark brown eyes lift to the clouded sky, contemplating the wandering billows for a long, silent moment before he turns and disappears into the maze of shadowed alleyways.

“did you hear something?”

a pause.

“no. i need a fucking cigarette.”