#ecxlightsout

[ecxkjongdae]

lights out; plot?

Hi all! Although the event is officially closed, is anyone willing to help poor Jongdae out? I’m interested in writing him through this difficult time, so if anyone is willing to help him get better or to use their abilities to stabilize him, please poke us in the ask box or AIM: jongkidenergy and we can outline a solid plot (:! 

Here is the starter. 

Please & thanks!

[ecxjiyeon]

The crowded elevator hadn't quite appealed to her. By no means was she scared of enclosed spaces — and even if she was (spoiler: afraid wouldn't be the right word but she certainly wasn’t too comfortable in them), it was unlikely that she would broadcast her fear for the world to know. Plus, she was on the twenty-seventh floor, and walking down twenty-seven flights of stairs didn’t appeal to her very much. So when the next elevator appeared barely a minute after the other left, with only one person inside (Jiyeon’s heart soared for joy; close contact with too many people was usually too much of a hassle to deal with), she almost felt herself leap inside like an Olympic athlete reaching the end. 

She didn’t, of course. 

She did, however, shoot the person a small smile, glad that it was just going to be the two of them in a rather spacious elevator. Also, the fact that he looked rather harmless made the entire situation more appealing to her. Having already been forced on an errand by a friend (’please’, she had begged, with puppy-dog eyes and Jiyeon couldn't refuse) was bad enough — prolonged contact with strangers would have made the entire situation worse.

And as she thought those words, it was almost as if the sky had decided to play a prank on her. A loud thunk and a clunk followed barely a mere second later, accompanied by the flickering of lights and then the complete blackout (save for the light from the LCD indicator), Jiyeon felt her heart rate elevating immensely.  

“Oh shit,” she whispered. This was not good. Not good at all. 

[ecxsunggyu]

ecxlilith asked

There are consequences to following the same path as the people he so ironically mocked, temptation slithering into his morality like the serpent he wished to find. As a fitting punishment, he hears voices in every corner. Real or not, they’re there-- footsteps shuffling, faint. No use in hiding during the night time, the streetlights unlit. Paranoia bubbles in his stomach until one voice whispers, audible now, the footsteps louder. Just a single word to set him ablaze in a frantic chase. ‘Run.’

The paranoia takes only a moment to set in, eyes scanning wildly and the bag of non-perishables drop from his hand; forgotten. The whispering seems to echo around him and he has to resist the urge to cover his ears and curl in upon himself. For a brief moment he pushes against a wall seemingly flickering in and out of existence as he struggles to remain hidden. But the fear is making it hard to focus…

“Run!”

And he does, not a second look back at who or what has spurred his flight. He stumbles first but pushes on, keeping his momentum. Without stopping to catch his breath he pounds down the sidewalk, not even registering the people milling around in their own confusion. More than once he simply pushes people out the way, any courtesy forgotten in his hysterical need to escape whatever was after him. 

The whispers are still there though, a force taunting him with how impossible it is to escape them. He can’t tell if he’s actually hearing them or if it’s all in his mind and he doesn’t care, they won’t stop him.

He has no care for where he’s going, undeterred by the unlit streets or the threat of tripping in the dark or the whispers; it’d take something more physical than whispers to stop his panicked fleeing. 

[ecxnamjoon-blog]

* playing in the dark

darkness.

it’s a greedy substance, one which swallows everything around it, submerges them until they drown in nothingness. namjoon’s always been afraid of the dark-- who knew what lurked around the corner, when your eyes could not belie it’s contents?

that’s why, when the lights went out, namjoon did not go outside. he refused, clinging to yoongi and his (revoltingly outdated) flashlight for support. yoongi had complained plenty about it, but they both quieted when they heard the shouting outside, the waves of people, the sounds of a riot.

of course, they’d have to go outside, eventually. they were both hungry, and they had to get food at some point once they no longer had access to the luxury of being able to have it produced for you, out of a space in the wall.

so that’s why namjoon’s fingers are tangled into yoongi’s, careful, as he tries to dissuade him from doing exactly what they needed to do. “hyung,” he breathed out, shaky, tugging on his hand, “hyung, do we really have to go out there?” he tried for a nervous laugh-- he didn’t want to seem as scared as he really was. “we have plenty of bread to last us until the lights go back on, and i don’t think it’d be safe to go out right now.” sure, it’d quieted down-- but namjoon was still wary.

“really,” he urged, one last final try. “let’s go back into your room...”

[ecxkjongdae]

An apple can be found on the man's doorstep-- nondescript but perfect, in every aspect, a glowing red. Utterly tempting, only one thing accompanies the fruit: a note, scrawled in fair handwriting; 'a gift.'

Though, of course, even someone as well read as Jongdae was would stop in his track immediately at the sight of something so out of place. The shiny red apple was harmless, except for ‘a gift’, resting perfectly on the swell of the apple. It melts Jongdae’s bravery to the core and he collapses onto his butt, sitting at his doorstep cross-legged and defeated. He pouts at it, studying it from his vantage point, taking in every detail without touching it. The handwriting could be deduced as a woman’s; it was too fair for a man’s (at least too fair for what Jongdae has seen). In the dim hallway it gleamed so pretty with the lack of light. 

But Jongdae’s brain his whirring; it’s calculating, analyzing, deducing, concluding.. Why, why would someone be dropping off gifts in the midst of an obvious crisis? Jongdae even flips through the calendar in his head, counting off the holidays that have passed since January 1st to see if someone was just nice enough to leave an anonymous present for an upcoming holiday. But Easter didn’t involve apples and no one else in his hallway had one in front of their doors (unless, of course, it was already picked up by the recipients). 

Jongdae sighs heavily, eyebrows knitting and lips twisting into a soft pout. He shouldn’t touch it; he should just leave it be and get on his way to get candles and something to eat for tonight while the power is out. But the longer he stared, analyzed, deduced, the more it seemed to call to him. Eden wasn’t normal; it could never be, no matter what or how things played out for him. Cold fingers pick up the fruit in a shaky palm, feeling the weight and the shape of the apple between his hands and bringing it up to his face. It smelled fresh, it looked fresh.. 

The calculations stop. Analysis deduced. Teeth sink into the flesh and the crispness of the fruit fills the room with its sound. 

[ecxkjongdae]

lights out;

Eden wasn’t normal; it couldn’t ever be, no matter what or how things played out for him. Even if he had made it out of the clinics, found a place for himself at the school and focused all his energies on himself, Jongdae has accepted that Eden will never be quite normal. First it was the glitches in the system, then everything fizzing out (and it wasn’t became of him for a change). When none of the buttons responded and a home screen couldn’t even be pulled up by his bracelet, Jongdae paced in thought around his room, thinking, wondering, planning.

The lack of information was one thing; the fact that darkness would approach soon was another thing. Jongdae hated the dark. Maybe even afraid of it. Were candles even in production still? It’s how the first humans survived, right? By light in the darkness. Jongdae throws on a coat and a scarf; he would have to go into town for such items, but if Eden’s power was down, wouldn’t that mean its systems of control be down too? It stops Jongdae at the door, hand paused over the door knob. Was it even safe to go outside at this point?

“Aish, so frustrating..” he mutters under his breath, the starchy collar of his coat beginning to bare down on his neck as an uncomfortable weight. But after another minute of calculations, he concludes he cannot let fear hold him back this much; he has to know what was going on out there and he has to take care of himself until things reverted back to normal.. right? A whip of the tails of his coat flaps sharply and he leaves the safety of his room with nothing but a small wad of cash and braces himself for the worst.