#.memory

[masochisticxlion-blog]

Not my best but credit if you use them.

[fromrakhanaidepart]

|| too lazy to do his current appearance rn but ah yes designs ||

[fromrakhanaidepart]

                    Shore leave was certainly time enough for him to get things done.

             Salaais had just killed a man, robbed him. The man was meant to meet with someone in that area. Shady business, as far as Sal had known, but that didn't matter, what mattered to Sal was that he had credits. Sal was getting paid for fighting now, he didn't need them as much as he liked to think, but he was a greedy fucker, and liked to pay his debts with money that wasn't his.

                    But someone that traveled with him saw the murder, and Salaais couldn't let that go. So he went after them, tracked them for days until they got what they came for in the first place. Or, as they were about to.            The person that the woman was supposed to meet, Sal killed them, too. Took their place. And now he waited, playing with a lighter that he had found a few days ago. However, he stopped and stayed in the dark as soon as he heard footsteps, pocketing the lighter.

                "Hello?" Called the woman, breaking the silence that had settled.          No response, further unnerving her. She shifts uncomfortably on her feet.

                ( You're late. )            The synthetic voice startles her, and she holds the datapad to her chest. But rather than play with the asari, Salaais steps out quickly and grabs her by the throat, bringing her over to the nearest wall, he puts his pistol to her head.

             "O-Oh, Goddess! It's you----!" She gasps, holding the wrist of the hand that holds her to the wall.                   ( You should have guessed I'd be back for you, Yeithes. ) He had learned her name while gathering information on her whereabouts, and intended to address her by it.             "Please... I-I won't report the murder----" She is interrupted by her own scream as her head is slammed back against the wall.                    ( I don't want to hear it! Your begging won't get you out of this. You won't keep to your fucking word, I know you won't.) And without much more time wasted, he fires, and then allows her body to drop to the ground.

            ( I don't like loose ends. ) Salaais says as he stares down at her body, putting his weapon away. He knelt down, going through her things, taking whatever valuable items she had.         "Sal, let's get rid of the body already." Says his partner, who had been there just for that and a share of the credits that Salaais had stolen. All he gets is a nod, and then they get moving.

             Disposing of the body was easy, but Sal's work wasn't finished yet. The credits? He didn't want to share them, Sal also owed him something other than money, and this man wasn't trustworthy. Salaais knew that if someone bribed him, he'd tell them whatever they want to know, and Sal couldn't let that go. So he waits for the man to turn around before walking up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder, smiling sweetly.

                 ( Thanks for the help. ) Salaais responds, gripping the man's shoulder a little too tightly.         "Yeah. Just make sure you give me everything I asked for, and we shouldn't have a problem." His voice grows harsher, "Because you owe me for this, Sal."                 ( Of course. ) Sal brings his other hand to the opposite shoulder, slowly sliding them over to the angles of the man's neck, ( I always pay back what I owe... ) Swiftly, the drell lifts his hands to his partner's head, and snaps his neck, letting his body drop after, and he begins to prepare to get rid of his body as well.

                    ( Though, it's such a shame that you won't be alive to receive it. )

[sxxnghyxn]

Memory: Music (Part I)

Sometimes, even if he tried to fit in, it seemed like he didn’t belong.

He would occasionally spend his time with friends, running around and getting into the same kind of trouble little kids would find themselves in. Breaking a window because of their over zealous excitement of playing ball, staying out a little bit too late for their mother’s liking or skipping homework to play outside with friends. But most often, it seemed that his mind was elsewhere.

  He did like playing with his toys and with his friends, but something was missing. A longing for something that he hasn’t found yet.

  One day, his mother was surprised to see him at home and not running around with his friends. He was just there lying down on the floor with hands tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling. “Seunghyun.. don’t you want to go play with your friends?”, his mother asked while observing  her son who was clearly lost in thought. “I don’t feel like it”, he replies with complete absence of emotion. His mother shaking her head and letting out a little giggle, knowing that her son was wired differently compared to the other kids. “Are you bored?” his mother asks curiously as she watches Seunghyun stare down the ceiling. Turning slowly to his side, resting his head on his hand and looking into his mother’s eyes; “No”.  That stare, was one of his ways to communicate without words, and right now he’s saying, “SHH!” His mother knows better than to pry words from him, she just leaves him be and makes her way to the kitchen.

  He sits up and looks to see if his mother was still observing him, seeing that no one was around, he stands up and goes upstairs to his grandfather’s room.

  To Seunghyun, his grandfather was someone he admired. Compared to the other kids, who would look up to superheroes in comic books and cartoons, for Seunghyun, his grandfather was the superhero he looked up to.

  As he reaches the top floor of their villa, he was surprised that his grandfather wasn’t at his usual spot by the window overlooking the city. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his grandfather sitting on the floor with something huge on his head, covering his grandfather’s ears. Slowly making his way towards his grandfather, he tried calling out to him; but it seemed that his grandfather was pre occupied with something else. There was no way his grandfather could see him, since his grandfather was blind, so Seunghyun decided to tap his grandfather’s shoulder to get his attention. “Maknae!”, his grandfather’s face lights up with a smile as he turns towards his grandson. Seunghyun let’s out a chuckle as he sits on his grandfather’s lap, “What’s that on your head, grandpa?” tapping the huge black thing on his grandfather’s head. “Oh! These are headphones, maknae. I was listening to music” his grandfather slowly removing the headphones from his head, “You place it around your ears and you can listen to music”.  Seunghyun’s eyes widen in surprise, the only time he’s seen his grandfather talk enthusiastically about something is when his grandfather talks about his grandmother. Seeing this, Seunghyun’s curiosity grew even deeper, “I thought music can be just heard through the radio??”.  Seunghyun’s grandfather laughed heartily, “Aigoo, this kid! I am listening to vinyl records”, his grandfather holds one up with his free hand, “this is a vinyl record and that is…” as his grandfather explains, Seunghyun’s ears tune in on every word that his grandfather was saying. There were only a few people who could keep Seunghyun interested and one of them was the person he was with at this moment. His grandfather always believed that, for someone to understand something they need to experience it, he offers Seunghyun, “Do you want to give it a try?”

  Seunghyun quickly reaches up for the headphones, eager to hear the records and truly experience what his grandfather was passionate about. He feels the headphones wrap around his head, settling around his ears. He hears nothing, and looks up at his grandfather shrugging his shoulders while pointing to the headphones. He watches his grandfather press something, and as soon as he hears something through the headphones, Seunghyun’s world is changed forever.

  Seunghyun was lost in what he was listening to, but for some reason it was also where he found the place he truly belonged to, music.