#jn;rep

[jinxolp-blog]

the dead ≃ ks; ( open )

he couldn’t remember why he started running. 

jin, for one, didn’t run away -- not physically, at least, although metaphorically was another matter -- from trouble. 

but light was coming at him from the end of the hallway, and all too sharply he turned a corner and hoped it did not catch him then. his heart, fragile and unused, hammered now against his rib cage, and he didn’t quite know which one would break first. his knees ached; how long had he been running for? 

light, however, cast shadows, and he only ever caught a glimpse of it: a slender female, whose name hung at seokjin’s tongue but could not be uttered, as if someone (something?) had stolen it from him. 

he knew, however, that he could not stop moving, and once he caught sight of a room he knew that perhaps it was too big to enter into small doorways. the door was promptly shut cautiously and silently behind him, and upon spotting another, he lunged at them without thought, aiming to have his hand over their mouth and drag them against the wall of the room, under the windows and into a corner where he hoped they could not be seen.

“don’t,” he whispered, “say. a word.”

[jinxolp-blog]

keep it low(key) ≃ jn;ks

olpmethe

when the night came and the books were safely tucked away where no one could peruse them without his permission, it was with almost-undeniable anticipation that he found himself wandering towards the festival. distractedly he lifted his arm at the entrance, although the bracelet glistened quite noticeably; he had not bothered to wear the jacket slung over his other arm, but knew that there could be a change it could be a little chilly later on. seokjin hoped not to be bothered by that, though. surely, the night could get more than a little...heated. 

but such ventures could wait.

instead his feet found him at the terra building, right beside its entrance, phone in his hand as he waited for his date. ( the thought made him giddy, for reasons he could not place -- something like an odd twisting in his chest he rarely ever felt. ) the flip phone was outdated, but he insisted on using it, and before long typed a message and sent it through.

[ text : ❤ ] i’m at the entrance, come meet me here~

[jinxolp-blog]

"Will you really not look at me?" She sits just across him while his desk and a book lie between them.

for the past few minutes -- and jin was painfully aware of them -- he had made sure to not look at methe. the library was deathly silent; no one usually came here at this time of the night. and, yes, that included methe herself. he had opted to slip out of the front desk hours ago, when the (supposedly) last student took their leave, and sat comfortably at the other tables in the library, a a book sitting before him that he had been happily going through until methe came in and disrupted his train of thought until he could think of nothing but --

“i will,” he answered, finally closing the volume and allowing his gaze to linger upon her lips first, her eyes next. there was a slight frown upon his brow as he leaned back, fingers running over his own mouth as he let out a small sigh. he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the scent of books and not on the faint fragrance that was distinctly her. 

only then did he manage to calm himself -- and his traitorous thoughts -- so that he could display the faint yet ever-familiar smirk. “what made you feel so studious today, methe? or did you just come here to visit me?”

[jinxolp-blog]

coffee for satan ≃ ca;ks

olpxanthea

jin has seen quite a few interesting characters in olympus since his arrival years ago. although most of the faces are blurred, and the stories he’d been told were lost to him since his awakening, that didn’t take away the fact that seokjin should be used to the odd brats milling about every now and again. the library was an interesting place, he thought, and although he got bored more often than not, the students who came and went (out of their own will!) were amusing to mess with nonetheless.

today just happened to be especially dull, and he was feeling particularly cruel.

so when he saw a familiar girl make her way towards the front desk, he made sure to put on his best, most charming smile, practically exuding a sort of warmth he had only ever observed in people other than himself. “well, well,” he began, leaning with both elbows upon the counter, and his cheek against his palm. “what did i do to deserve an interaction with someone so cute?”

[jinxolp-blog]

poke - a - boo ≃ jm;ks

olpxminju

summer was always so slow -- and jin hated inactivity. much as he liked lounging about, there was a point when one did get tired of it. frankly put, he was bored out of his mind, and if he was to be shot again, he would’ve gladly accepted it, and would even paint a bulls eye on his forehead. 

to cure it, he decided that making the brats’ lives a living hell would be the best -- and most amusing -- course of action. he couldn’t fault his own sense of humour. really. it was hard enough to find a fault in his physical appearance, and even more so the emptiness that it hid. he figured, then, that those in the right mind would be closest to a body of water on such a hot day. 

thus, his feet led him to the han river, and lo and behold, a lion lay in wait, ready for the victimising.

normal people would scream at the sight.  jin, already behind the creature, only summoned a few of the undead, and wordlessly signaled for them to give her a good scare, even if the lion did end up falling in the river.

he’d always been curious about what would happen if someone dipped a big cat in an even bigger pool of water, anyway.

[jinxolp-blog]

what did you expect ≃ ks;km

olpxmyungsoo

this is how jin expects a typical work day to go: without many interruptions, and with a few cups of irish coffee. he’d be left alone to read as much as he liked without getting asked this and that, and be allowed to leave whenever he pleased. 

of course, that rarely ever happens. he thinks it’s because the world hates him. (probably.) what other explanation can there be?

while the demigods in this place are as amusing to watch as ever, but he’s not going to go so far as to say that he enjoys company -- especially the kind that deal in small talk. if it had been up to him, they all should be trying to kill each other by now. peace is a flimsy thing, anyway. nonetheless, he’s not going to try and change something he’s getting income from. money is money, no matter where and how he gets it, and how he spends it. that isn’t to say that he doesn’t regret some of his expenses.

at the moment, he wishes he just didn’t spend money on buying an app he probably isn’t going to use anyway. 

he blames it on the lack of alcohol in his coffee that morning.

and, as if the thought provoked the actualisation of a subconscious desire, the automatic door opens, and makes him look up. frankly, he doesn’t know whether to sigh in disappointment, or in relief. “library’s closed,” he says immediately, returning to his book, feet propped up on a stool hidden behind the library counter. “unless you have alcohol, then by all means, bother away.”