#$ss;

[jeonggukxmi]

❛❛ why are you here? did you come here because you didn’t trust me? ❜❜

throwback to the shadow and protocol days in phoenix

▓█ au? (or canon in universe; you decide) ▬▬▬▬ phoenix days ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

protocol doesn’t trust anyone, least of all wonwoo. jeongguk is used to brainless soldiers and hitmen, and strategizing and planning for their missions on top of shutting down security systems for their benefit. sometimes he tells them what to do over a headset, providing intel, watching the cameras, warning them of incoming trouble. it’s a heavy burden for someone so young, but he’ll never come close to admitting it. to the outside world, protocol is unshakable. he is always somber, always dedicated, and always focused. it never changes. he is so good at what he does due in part to his paranoia and suspicions about others.

he knows wonwoo is a dedicated member of phoenix, probably more loyalty than protocol himself. it’s not there where he doubts him. he just thinks he’s stupid.

for reasons unknown to jeongguk, wonwoo was tasked with the job of killing a target with valuable information. yes, that part made sense. the following is the kicker: he was supposed to get the information from the target’s computer and put it on a flash drive for phoenix’s use. absolutely not. first: there’s no telling what he’ll be met with once he logs onto that computer, if he can even do so. it’s likely password protected, and wonwoo would never be able to figure out how to surpass that. beyond that, he may run into encrypted files, or files that are password protected. worse yet, he may find a security protocol that provides an alert to someone else that there’s been an attempt to access it, especially if that attempt was a failed one. this target is lynx; protocol expects the best.

as such, he intends to test himself against them. he follows after wonwoo on his mission, because as previously explained, the hitman is stupid. protocol knows when he leaves, and leaves himself soon afterward, location of the hit in his mind. that information wasn’t really his to know, but protocol doesn’t really need permission to know information. he hooked his phone up to the surrounding security cameras, and cuts them as wonwoo approaches the target to cover his trail. he can thank him later.

he gives him ample time to complete the kill, then invites himself in, right through the front door, left unlocked. he’ll have to give wonwoo a hard time about that. naturally, wonwoo notices him before long.

“no, i don’t,” he says plainly, voice flat, as always. “you did your part. you aren’t going to be able to do the next part by yourself, so let me do it.”

[jeonggukxmi]

❛❛ what is this scene i am witnessing? ❜❜

▓█ au? (or canon in universe; you decide) ▬▬▬▬ present day ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

jeongguk doesn’t make a habit of going out into the field. these days, he’s most comfortable at his desk in the myeongcho police department, remotely providing information, digging up dirt on suspects, hacking systems and cracking codes. they usually don’t need him in person, but sometimes there are jobs that only he can do. (sometimes there are jobs he doesn’t want them to know about.)

today is such case. he met up to talk with a member of columba over coffee, and for them to pass him a thumb drive of encrypted information they agreed to share with him on hydrus. just like jeongguk believed columba’s manner of dealing with situations were sometimes more effective than the mpd, this particular member of the group of vigilantes thought helping the mpd was worth doing, so long as they made steps toward purging myeongcho of the gangs. jeongguk always thought they’d be better off working together-- always turned the other cheek on crimes committed by columba members if he could.

now, he’s on the street, walking home, backpack on his shoulders, headed toward the subway. he has his earbuds in, which was his first mistake, and one he’ll never repeat again. there’s a sudden impact-- someone barreling into his side, and they pin him up against the nearest wall. before he knows it, there’s a knife to his throat.

“empty your pockets,” the man says, and there’s part of jeongguk that panics. when confronted with this situation, protocol would’ve felt the same, but with less to lose-- might’ve embraced death in the end. reset is different. reset has a home far away from the island, and family that he’s doing all of this for. he always knew the potential of dying on this island, but the time isn’t now.

“okay,” he says. in his pockets, there’s some spare money, chewing gum, the zip drive he just received, and conveniently (intentionally), a switchblade. he reaches into his pocket, then quickly flicks it open and stabs the man somewhere near the liver. jeongguk wonders now if someone intercepted this meeting between him and his contact-- wonders if the man wants the information on that zip drive more than he wants his money. too bad he won’t be getting it.

jeongguk was never good at defending himself. usually, someone else would have to come save him instead-- backup from phoenix, and this year, he hasn’t put himself in enough dangerous situations to need to call on the mpd. later, once the adrenaline wears off, he might feel more fear belatedly, but he doubts he’ll feel regret.

the man falls to his knees, clutching his new stab wound, and jeongguk doesn’t know if he’ll survive or not (doesn’t know if he cares.)

that’s when he hears a voice, and jeongguk looks to who it comes from. “i would say a crime scene, but this was in self defense,” he says, calmly. “do you want to call an ambulance?” jeongguk doesn’t really want to, but the mpd and time away from the darkness from this island has instilled more morals and empathy in him than he once possessed. they’d probably want him to give the man a chance to redeem himself. maybe.

[jeonggukxmi]

❛❛ i’m a very exhausted person. ❜❜

protocol is dead but jeongguk isn’t. mingyu discovers this unfortunate truth in the line at the grocery store checkout.

▓█ au? (or canon in universe; you decide) ▬▬▬▬ present day ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

jeongguk couldn’t remain a ghost forever. myeongcho isn’t a large enough island for that, and really, it’s miracle enough that he made it this far without anyone in phoenix catching him alive. jeongguk always knows the odds. it’s what got him into phoenix in the first place– using those odds to his favor and against theirs, pushing and pushing his limits until he was caught. he’s wondered a lot since then whether he was glad they wanted him for their ranks more than they wanted to kill him. in the end, his life is his life, and he tries not to waste his time on what ifs.

maybe it’s fitting that ghost himself is the one to call jeongguk’s bluff. he doesn’t know what to say to him now; mingyu’s exasperation is incredibly evident. he knew no one in phoenix would take well to seeing him again. they never took well to betrayal, and it’s for that reason that jeonyul died. he tried to get out once and he was a fool. he successfully escaped, and yet still came back. maybe he’s still a fool. he won’t tell them how much of their information he leaked to the police department upon his return, because that’s certainly unforgivable. he doesn’t want phoenix’s forgiveness. (but in this moment, he doesn’t quite trust the mpd to protect him as much as he did previously.)

he doesn’t explain. jeongguk isn’t a man of many words, and neither was protocol. he’s changed much in between protocol and reset, but his utter lack of desire to be in the presence of phoenix members is still the same. “maybe you should rest when you get home, then,” he offers in monotone.

figures, he’d run into his first familiar phoenix member in the line at the grocery store checkout. (at least mingyu won’t risk shooting him in front of so many witnesses.)

[jeonggukxmi]

❝ You were bullied? What for? ❞

protocol executes what he hopes is the perfect scam to get on eris’s good side for the sake of information

▓█ au? (or canon in universe; you decide) ▬▬▬▬ present day ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

he nods vigorously, lip sticking out in an innocent and shaken pout. if he was more in touch with his emotions opposed to shutting them down constantly, he might be able to muster a few tears to make his eyes water and sparkle appropriately. it’s a shame. the act would be much more convincing.

“i’m really smart, you see. i’m at the top of my class right now and that’s–” he pauses, and reminds himself to work the self-conscious nerd concept. he’s been bullied; his self-esteem is shot, he has no self-worth whatsoever. he needs to look as pitiful as possible. “really all i’m good at. i’m not really…good at talking to people…or standing up for myself. i think this is th-the most i’ve done to stand up for myself in a while. this one guy in my class– his name is hoseok, and he’s worried i’m going to get his spot in yonsei, so he just stole all of my notes.”

he pauses to inhale a long, panicked breath, blinking with wild and distressed eyes. “i just– you seem really…capable…and i really need those notes, that’s like…my life’s work, really.” he makes sure his voice is especially dismayed, and he stares down at the ground in feigned defeat and embarrassment. 

does eris have a soft side? he hopes to find out. 

act one, begin: the part of hoseok played by a vanguard member, in on the entire thing. the notes: very real, slaved over by jeongguk late at night to be perfectly convincing, simultaneously serving as a reminder of everything he’s given up for vanguard– the material he could really be learning in a top university. his role: kim jinyoung, in his final year of high school, not so different from who jeongguk would’ve been if he didn’t take everything way too far.

“y-you don’t have to help me, i can…probably rewrite them, but…i’d really appreciate it if you would.”

[jeonggukxmi]

❝ Who hurt you this badly to make you this way?! ❞

after three shared years in vanguard, protocol and shadow have worked together quite a lot. this does not mean they work together well. really, they do, or else the higher-ups would stop putting them together, but they naturally argue incessantly despite always getting the job done. protocol always nitpicks everything shadow does and today is no different, they’ve just both finally had enough.

▓█ probably canon sadly (or au, save us) ▬▬▬▬ present day ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

the auxiliary cord connecting his headphones to the desktop pulls out with a snap, protocol’s hand yanking it out, and he throws both across his makeshift office in vanguad, in shadow’s direction.

enough.

“you!” he retorts, as childish as expected. “one day it isn’t going to work out. we’re going to stop getting lucky, so you need to listen to me!” but that’s not it. the answer is really vanguard-- all of them, himself included.

his anger is evident in his voice-- in the fire burning behind his eyes, and he’s not finished-- far from it. too much has bubbled to the surface for him to swallow back down, and he’s still furious, even as his voice drops to something more eerily calm.

“do you remember when you first joined vanguard?” he begins, but he clearly isn’t anticipating an answer. he goes on easily, “i was already here. do you know how many people i’ve outlived in this gang?” he asks, but it’s not a question anyone will answer. once, that was important-- the blood on his hands and his responsibility, but now, it’s just a sidenote.

“did they tell you what happened to me? did you hear them talking about it?” his voice is gruff, dripping in resentment. what happened to him. he doesn’t have a right to say it like that, because it’s what happened to her. he’s never been the best with words under pressure, especially with emotion mixed in. numbers are easier, but there’s no way to turn this into a cipher and no way to escape it.

“i bet they talked about it a lot-- so much that nobody really knew what the truth was. they probably don’t know that i sacrificed more than my life to vanguard. i tried to leave once. i finished school and i wanted to get out, so i left, but vanguard sent a hitman to bring me back,” he says it like it’s easy. the words just pour out, and his gaze remains hard, even as he tilts his head to the side. in the moment, he is dead to emotion. later, he will realize he’s never told anyone this before. he’ll realize that saying it out loud is confirmation that it all happened, and that he’s responsible for all of it, and it’ll take him days to remember to breathe again, but now, he doesn’t. now, he doesn’t feel anything.

“he shot my little sister in the head right in the middle of the dining room. the wall is still discolored from her blood. so they dragged me back. i was back in vanguard the next day, doing what i’ve always done.”

he doesn’t give the words any time to sink in, he just continues: “some of us don’t have the liberty to make mistakes. some of us don’t have the liberty to pick up part-time day jobs at cute little cafes, because we’re too busy trying to keep everyone in a godforsaken gang alive every day and night even though we don’t owe them anything-- because all they do is take if we don’t. vanguard should owe me for everything i’ve given them.”

“so just shut up. don’t ask again. just shut up and go,” and now he finally looks away-- blinks a little too quickly to maintain an act of composure. “please.”

[jeonggukxmi]

❝ How long has it been since you lost them? ❞

jin and protocol have a kind of alliance, where jin gives protocol information about black lotus from his time there, and in exchange, protocol gives jin information he needs. why does information about black lotus interest protocol? because hex, his former partner in crime, is there, of course.

▓█ au? (or canon in universe; you decide) ▬▬▬▬ recent past ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

protocol’s nose crinkles in distaste behind the black mask he wears over his mouth, because lost. he doesn’t like that word.

“lost is--” he begins, about to protest, eyes narrowed, but he reconsiders, then shrugs-- deciding against it. instead, he continues with, “the last time i had contact with hex was december 29th, 2015. ran into him on a mission against black lotus, naturally. not literally, of course. we were both behind a computer.” he feels like he needs to clarify something very important: “we drove black lotus back. i knocked him out of commission long enough for them to need to retreat. but he was there.”

he blinks at jin expectantly then: is that enough? his eyes question, and he hopes so, because despite the need at his core to know if hex is dead or alive, he doesn’t want to talk about it. he doesn’t even want to admit he thinks about him, let alone that there’s a desire to find him again. (but if he’s trying to find him, he’s certainly lost, like jin said. isn’t he?)

but lost is the opposite of won; lost and protocol don’t go well together. he will only accept victory. and to achieve success here...jin probably needs to know more.

“if you want to know the last time i saw him, it was in...” he pauses, somewhat strategically, to recall the information, like he doesn’t already have the date memorized. “early 2013. but i know it was him on that mission. it couldn’t have been anyone else. i would recognize how he hacks anywhere because i’m the one that taught him how.”

he pauses again, but then his lips quirk up in slight amusement. “if you’re asking how long it’s been since black lotus’s security has been shit, well, you probably know the answer to that question,” he snickers, but he continues on with genuine curiosity. “do you? how much do you keep up with them lately?”

[jeonggukxmi]

❝ You’re hurting others the way you’ve been hurt in the past, don’t you think that’s ironic? ❞

hyunwoo is the one to finally match protocol in the game of information; he puts enough together to attach protocol to jeongguk and have the spd bring him in handcuffed for the years worth of hacking and blackmail he’s responsible for.

▓█ au ▬▬▬▬ probably in the future ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

protocol tilts his head to the side in thought, a kind of sardonically smug smile appearing on his face despite the situation (despite the fear.)

“i don’t know who you think i am,” he begins, like there’s been mistake, though protocol knows exactly who hyunwoo thinks he is. for once, he isn’t wrong. “but i think i should be the one asking you that. am i right?”

the smile quirks at his lips once again, knowing, and jeongguk still looks on at hyunwoo on the other side of the table as he questions him. he ignores how trapped he is-- ignores that he no longer has anywhere to run with his hands cuffed to the metal of the table so he can’t even move.

but protocol is only here for knowing. information was his job, so he knows hyunwoo’s story. he knows of his downfall-- of the metal in his leg and the faulty information leading to the bullet that put it there. beyond that is a mystery, much to protocol’s dismay. curiosity and thirst for knowledge always led him to search for more-- to find what the information hyunwoo received was, what it was in truth, and what hyunwoo was doing there in the first place. it’s always bothered him not to know, but he ultimately forgot in the haze of gathering other information, and he probably isn’t in the best position to ask now.

so instead, he elaborates on his point in case hyunwoo isn’t following, “you got hurt because of information,” and he doesn’t say it with any room for argument; it’s clearly fact. jeongguk looks down at his hands, cuffed together beneath the table. “and now you’re doing the same thing to me. that’s what’s really ironic.”