#$pc;

[jeonggukxmi]

&; kick me }(j̶u̶n̶h̶o̶n̶g̶ axel.

@mixzelo:

(&; }

Axel is lucky. Protocol surely won’t let him live it down, after all of this is said and done, and he’s certain the other male isn’t about to pass out or call unnecessary attention to himself with his whimpering. He doesn’t know why Vanguard keeps insisting on pairing them together on missions-- something having to do with Axel absorbing a small fraction of Protocol’s hacking skills through Mitosis, or something equally ridiculous. All he knows is that Axel would be in quite a predicament if Protocol didn’t watch his whole thievery stunt through the city’s security cameras, and didn’t know where he was to come to his aid now, when the other male couldn’t even move.

It all started with a daring dash across rooftops after Axel snatched a very expensive watch, a little less subtly than usual. Protocol would argue that if he had been more quiet about it, such an extreme getaway wouldn’t be necessary, but it didn’t matter, because Axel charged across rooftops, and then eventually off of one, and over a fence, and into his current compromising position. (Sadly, Protocol couldn’t witness it all; watching through the security cameras was like constantly flipping through TV channels, only to see the best part of the show from a bad angle.)

“The good news is you lost them!” he chirps, though the optimism is clearly sarcastic. “The bad news is you also lost your leg. We’ll have to amputate. On the bright side, the watch you stole will probably pay for the procedure. Maybe.”

It’s all an exaggeration-- a cruel joke, but he says it with such a straight face that he doubts anyone could tell. 

[jeonggukxmi]

&; center of attention }(iseul.

His life consists of two aspects: his work for Vanguard, where he is Protocol, and when he arrives home to his apartment, where he is Jeongguk. There is rarely in between, and he tries to prevent overlap whenever possible. In fact, it’s difficult to force him out of this pattern-- of filling his days and nights with working for Vanguard, and immediately returning home, with little regard for going out and hobbies outside of his missions and anything he can accomplish within his apartment’s walls.

Sometimes, he’s persuaded to break routine. It’s rare, because he usually argues enough with anyone trying to convince him of anything to force them into surrendering, if only out of annoyance. Some people are more persistent than others, though, and the promise of coffee helps. Izzy is one of those more persistent people-- a nuisance, but a friend of a sort, though he wouldn’t dare call her such (he doesn’t make friends; friends are a liability.)

He sits at the table she advised him to, both hands nervously wrapped around the cup of coffee she bought for him. At least she delivered on that promise. He looks around at the venue-- to the other tables, and the growing crowd, and the lights, and then finally to the stage set up where she will be performing. As much as he resisted coming when she suggested he come watch her perform, it isn’t like he hates it. He prefers to avoid crowds and social interaction when possible; he isn’t incapable of it. Maybe, this will even be nice.

The meaning of it all isn’t lost on him. He’s well aware this is Izzy, showing him a glimpse of her life outside of Vanguard, and he isn’t sure how many others know both sides of her. To him, it’s a dangerous line to cross, but he’s here anyway.