Mar 29, 2020
BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, PARK JISUNG .
He was born on FEBRUARY 5TH, 2002 as PARK JISUNG. This eighteen-year-old is a PICKPOCKET, LOOKOUT and CASHIER at 7/11. His allegiance lies with no one.
seen from Brazil
seen from Ireland
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, PARK JISUNG .
He was born on FEBRUARY 5TH, 2002 as PARK JISUNG. This eighteen-year-old is a PICKPOCKET, LOOKOUT and CASHIER at 7/11. His allegiance lies with no one.
TW PARENTAL DEATH, CHILD ABUSE
WHO ARE YOU?
“Park Jisung,” he answered the question straightforward, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat. He never did well in job interviews, they always seemed to ask the questions he never really had any good answers for. “I’ve just turned eighteen and I live at home with my parents and little sister, Jinah,” he smiled through the lie, almost as if it came too easy for him to tell. It was one he had told countless times to countless people. So much so that he almost started believing it was true. No one knew the real truth, his parents were dead, had been for almost three years. They didn’t that he was Jinah’s only carer, how they lived in some shitty room where he struggled to the pay the rent every month. They didn’t know how he had to pull himself and his sister away from an abusive uncle, how he had to get mixed up in the criminal scene just to make ends meat. The lie was just easier to tell, and he did so with ease.
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
“Through the door?” He sounded a little uncertain, dropping his eyes down to his lap for a moment. He knew that wasn’t the question they were really asking. “I got here through hard work,” he eventually settled on, lifting his gaze up again, “And a lot of it.” And they really had no idea how much hard work he put in just to stay alive, just to keep Jinah safe. But he could never go into detail about how much work he did, not unless he wanted all the lies he had been telling the past three years to unravel.
PROFILE LOADED...「KIM HYUNJUNG」「UNAFFILIATED」「TWENTY」
“Twenty-year-old BAKERY CLERK. No known allies.”
✘ THREAT LEVEL LOW. NO PRECAUTIONS NECESSARY...
WARNING: MENTION OF WEIGHT/BODY DYSMORPHIA, DEPRESSION, OVERDOSE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, DEATH, DRUGS, ABUSE
[ BACKGROUND... ]
born on december 24th, 1996. born to a single mother who was abandoned by the baby’s father shortly after she became pregnant. decided upon keeping the girl, who she named kim hyunjung, giving the child her own family name. she hoped that maybe the newborn’s father would return when he comes to his senses, so that they could all be a family together.
she does what she can to fight the urges to act out on her daughter, but slips up far too often. being that hyunjung is all that she has, she unintentionally begins to set standards way too high and is too hard/strict on the child. hyunjung is chubby as a young girl, and her mother urges her to become more active and eat healthier. she can’t help when the girl sneaks sweets and treats late at night, and in a desperate attempt to prevent her daughter from taking it too far, she begins buying clothes for hyunjung that are too small, so she feels the need to listen to her. this act affects hyunjung and causes her a lot of anxiety and embarrassment, making her insecure of her own body and appearance. she is humiliated when she can’t fit into her clothes and is scarred by her mother’s actions.
because she never felt loved at home, hyunjung falls hard when she’s 16-years-old for a boy that is friendly and charming. he seems genuinely interested in her and it’s so foreign, but she craves the affection. they begin dating several months later and not long after, she begins learning more about him. she discovers that he’s caught up in some shady, dangerous crowds. when she confronts him about it, she learns that it’s because his mother is terribly ill and he is having to do whatever he can to pay for her hospital bills.
a year later, she begins getting more worried because it seems like he’s getting in over his head. having been introduced to the life, he allows himself to get pulled further in. she has suspicions of him doing drugs and likely occasionally cheating on her, whether he later has memory of it or not. she turns a blind eye, however, because she loves him more than anything, and tries to think of ways that she can help.
after they graduate, hyunjung’s boyfriend’s mother finally dies. this sends him into a downward spiral, and he gets himself into even more trouble, doing all that he can to block everything out. no matter how many times hyunjung tries to reach out to him to help, she fails. another three months later, the boy is being arrested for his crimes after he was caught participating in a robbery and the victim was killed (not by him, by one of the other guys with him, but he was still involved, so he was still charged as well). after his imprisonment, hyunjung is broken for a long time. feeling so alone takes a toll on her. she wonders if he ever loved her at all, and can’t help but feel a little sorry for herself. she experienced such a low during this time of her life that she contemplated overdosing, but thankfully, never attempted anything. they remained only depressing thoughts, but she somehow managed to stay strong and continue on.
in late 2016, she met a girl that seemed really nice and compassionate. it wasn’t long before she started to develop feelings for her, and a month later, they began to date. sadly, she was mistaken. the girl was a lot more spoiled than she originally let on, and hyunjung became the victim of a verbally abusive relationship. she couldn’t believe that it was all lies, so she stuck around and did everything that she could to impress her. still, her efforts were typically shot down and her girlfriend would express to her how useless she was and how she deserved more than what hyunjung had to offer. even so, she yearned for the affection that she always had, so she put up with the torment and abuse, dealing with being torn apart and emotionally drained, thinking that the good times were probably worth the excessive bad ones.
it took hyunjung nearly an entire year before she finally worked up the courage to leave her manipulative girlfriend. it wasn’t long after that her mother reached out to her, claiming that she missed her and wanted to know how she was doing. hyunjung had decided by that point, however, that she was better off on her own. towards the beginning of the relationship, hyunjung and her girlfriend had gotten a dog, so when they split up, hyunjung kept the black lab and now lives on her own with him.
[ BEHAVIOR... ]
hyunjung isn’t afraid to stand up for what she believes in. she has gotten into arguments in the past for her unwillingness to keep her mouth closed. at the same time, it’s not impossible for her to be emotionally manipulated, as she has been in the past by various people in her life. she can be soft yet she can also be fiery. she’ll either be spending her time baking sweet treats or boxing to stay in shape and release some of her pent up frustration. she isn’t good at keeping tons of people in her life but she also doesn’t love being completely by herself at all times. she loves dramas, oversized, soft clothing, cute boys and pretty girls, and she dislikes thunderstorms and arrogant people. she has many layers but it’s not excessively easy for anyone to see many of them.
BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, PARK HYERIN .
She was born on NOVEMBER 16TH, 1995 as PARK HYERIN, but you might know her as EVE. This twenty-four-year-old is a HITWOMAN FOR HIRE and BARTENDER at MOONWALKERS. Her allegiance lies with no one.
TW KIDNAPPING, RAPE, NSFW, ABUSE, TORTURE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
WHO ARE YOU?
then:
a dropbox baby. unwanted. unloved.
her earliest memory is of an orphanage, small and cramped and bursting at the seams.
she doesn’t know when it started—the silence—but she doesn’t talk. not when the matrons ask her questions ( who are you? where are you from? what’s your name? why won’t you talk? ) and not when the other children poke and prod, tease and taunt.
she’s tuned out the world. floating through life, merely existing on the edge.
instead, she finds sanctuary in dog-eared books with yellowing pages and blacked out text, plants roots in the corner of rooms and behind crowds.
this is how she grows up: like a ghost—quiet and unseen. always lingering at the periphery. always on the outskirts of conversation.
…
she was happy once.
until one day, she disappears.
…
now:
the girl who lived. an enigma. cold. unpredictable.
she has no memories this time ( or so it seems ). no answers for the gossips who come frothing at the mouth with questions ( where have you been? what happened to you? how are you alive? why won’t you talk? ); not even for the MPD who come skulking in, wearing their justice hearts and self-proclaimed righteousness on their sleeves. she has nothing for them, but silence.
it’s familiar. safe. hers.
she does not speak.
she does not hear.
she does not see.
…
to the world, her existence is a miracle.
to her, she is nothing more than a walking death sentence.
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
SEE NO EVIL.
exhibit a: a backalley, poor timing, a crime in progress.
…
when she wakes, she is in a dirty cell with no windows.
there is no interrogation. no, that comes much, much later. ( when she begged for mercy, when she begged for death. )
instead, they rob her of the little things first: light, food, noise, time. they give her food at the oddest hours of the day, turn the lights on and off when she least expects it, blast white noise and headache-inducing sounds whenever she so much as closes her eyes for longer than ten minutes.
it doesn’t occur to her how much time passes as she wastes away.
not until she wakes in the middle of the night to locks turning and a hand on her face.
when she comes to, she locks eyes with the devil.
…
all she remembers after is darkness and silence.
always.
…
HEAR NO EVIL.
exhibit b: chains clanging, guttural chokes, a whispered secret.
…
the questions come in cycles—no rhyme, no reason, no ramble.
they know by now that no one is coming for her. she’s no one important. just another pretty-face LUMIN8 waitress. a civilian, unassuming and invisible.
it’s only marginally surprising that she’s not dead.
it must be amusing for them to see how much she’s clinging, how desperately she still holds onto the last remaining shred of her sanity, her dignity.
for all their talk, no one has come close enough to get a confession.
not even the devil himself.
and for that, she goes from invisible to intriguing.
…
SPEAK NO EVIL.
exhibit c: drunken laughter, oily taunts, dirty hands and dirtier mouths.
…
she wakes up to blood on her thighs, her hands, her face.
there’s a body lying on top of her, his head turned unnaturally at an angle. she does not cry. not even when her skin crawls when she realizes someone is watching her from a corner of the cell.
it’s him.
not the devil. his right hand. the executioner.
she does not know his name. if she did, she’s forgotten it. just like she has everything else.
he tells her it’s an accident. she does not ask if he means the loss of her innocence or the body he disposes of or the bloody knife he finds shoved beneath the dirty mattress.
he asks her if she remembers what happened.
she tells him nothing. only looks at him. still naked, half lucid.
a door creaks somewhere in the distance and she lets the darkness take her just before someone steps into view.
you did well, park hyerin.
eventually, she forgets that too.
…
exhibit d: sunlight, open space, crowds, too many holes.
…
they find her bloody and half-dead with threadbare clothes hanging off her body and no shoes behind yebae church.
she’s jane doe until her fingerprints and dental records come back positive for one park hyerin: former LUMIN8 waitress, missing and presumed dead.
…
it’s been three years.
she doesn’t even blink.
the detective clears his throat and shifts in his chair. he asks questions she has no answers to. his partner is decidedly frustrated when an hour passes and they still come up empty.
he loses his temper. she doesn’t flinch. just stares. and stares and stares until he curses, hand dipping into his back pocket and stalks out of the room.
she watches him go until a voice pulls her attention back.
hyerin.
no response. it’s as though her name doesn’t register at all. she simply turns her head, meets his eyes, and waits.
what happened to you?
a clock ticks. silence blooms. tick tock. tick tock. tick—
she says nothing.
when he leaves, she stares after him. eyes shadowed and forever haunted.
…
i love—
—die…don’t!
hye…rin!
such a pretty mouth…
rin-ah…i…
bitch! i’ll kill—
rin, please…
shh…hey, it’s me…it’s okay.
promise me…please just…
liar!
always—take care of you.
…
THERE’S NO ESCAPE WHEN THE EVIL IS YOURSELF.
there are gaps in her memories.
it’s nothing new. she’s learned to live with it—the shadows, the distorted whispers, the mismatched way her brain tries to fix itself.
it doesn’t explain the fading callouses on her fingers, the scars on her wrist and slashed across her palm, the spider web of thinly faded tendrils blooming at center mass, the graceful, almost deadly way she moves. there’s a cold, ruthless edge to her lips now, like death clings to her shoulders, bleeding from her eyes.
her files are empty, save for the police reports and medical records detailing the amount of damage her body is still reeling, still healing from.
eventually, she slips from person of interest back to invisible wraith.
she floats through life. just like she used to.
here, yet not.
always lingering, merely existing.
waiting and waiting and waiting.
…
what are you waiting for?
death.
…
hello, park hyerin.
( death is here. )
PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 KANG TAEWON 》
“KANG TAEWON is a twenty-seven-year-old FREELANCER and UNDERGROUND FIGHTER that goes by the alias BULL.”
TW DRUG USE, PROSTITUTION, CHILD ABUSE, BLOOD, FAMILY ILLNESS, NSFW
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
kang taewon.
he thinks simply. that should be the only answer there is, but the more he thinks the more there is. he had never thought himself to be a complicated person, but when had he ever given himself time to just sit and think?
son.
he was nine. his father had already been gone for four years at that point. his mother was struggling to keep them afloat and even at his age, he knew. they had moved houses more than four times already, each time the apartment getting smaller and more ragged. they were in their room. he was trying his best to placate his youngest brother, but the cries don’t stop. he can hear the man’s footsteps stomping down the hall and out the door yelling about how he “couldn’t get off with a kid fucking crying”. for a moment the house is eerily silent before his mom is slamming his door open. on instinct, he takes the step forward to shield his brothers, once again ready to take the brunt of his mother’s anger if only to make sure they aren’t on the receiving end. back then the drugs, the loss of her husband, and the lack of nutrition hadn’t overtaken her completely. that night, as she watched the blood gush from the cut her ring had caused has his mother dropping to her knees. for the first time in years, she embraced them all in a hug and apologize.
older brother.
taewon tries his best to allow his brothers to live a normal life. they’re poor, but he does what he can. his mother barely returns home now, only leaving money for them occasionally so that they can buy food. taewon knows what happens if she stays too long. the guilt of that night lingers in the back of her mind. she only sinks deeper into her depression. the more she turns to alcohol and drugs to help cope and the more violent they make her. she can’t risk it again. however, even then there are days when she breaks. sometimes taewon preferred those days. it kept his mother off the streets and even if she littered his body with bruises she always gave him hugs to apologize. those are some of the nights he misses the most. despite his body aching, those nights they usually fell asleep cuddled on the mat on their floor for once feeling like a family again. those are the only nights he wants his brothers to remember. if he has to lie to keep that image alive for them he will.
fighter.
his first fight was at fourteen. he remembers that day clearly. taewon fumbled through that fight. halfway through he had managed to break his hand on the jaw of his opponent, but pure adrenaline and determination helped him win that fight. he’s stepping off the stage that night and sitting in the back as a man in black pats him on the back to congratulate him on a good fight. they take their cut of the money and throw the rest to the floor. he still remembers desperately trying not to get blood on the bills as he picked them up. the fights continue after that. the bills to keep his mother in the hospital, the money to keep his brothers in school and fed, and the debt she owed the local gang wasn’t a small fee. he needed more and more money and in less and less time. he had to take riskier fights and he does. honestly, he’s laughing at the thought of how good he had to get at makeup to hide his wounds from his brothers.
“kang taewon. just taewon is fine though.”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“i needed money mostly.”
even with his debt paid off by now his reputation in seoul meant that getting riskier fights meant risking death. he had been fighting for more than a decade now with just that experience paired with his win record the crowd wasn’t finding his fights as interesting unless it meant a fight to the death. not only that but most of the fighters that wanted to take him on now were the types that were there for the thrill, not fearing the consequences of death. despite the blood on his hands, he didn’t want more.
“and to have some time to myself.”
it was harder to hide the truth from his brothers when he’s closer to them. he knows the reputation of myeongcho and despite that, he came. he’s not here to take sides. he’s not here to end the war. he’s here to survive and provide for the people he cares the most. it might make him selfish, but family, family, was all that he had left.
PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 WOO JINSOO 》
“WOO JINSOO is a twenty-two-year-old PART-TIME INTERN at EMERGENCY RESPONSE HQ, HACKER and DRUG RUNNER that goes by the alias ZN.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
There were always so many ways to answer a question like this. Who really was anyone? His lips pursed into a tight line, dimples dipping at the corners of his mouth to visibly form his obvious discomfort. He never was great at interacting socially and this was almost like the world was putting that factuality to the test. ‘Annoying’ would be an understatement. “Woo Jinsoo.” Was that the correct answer? Some sort of deep symbolic answer could have been the true aim to this, but he wasn’t necessarily feeling in touch with his 70s’ existential crisis mode at the moment and he didn’t want to seem pretentious for thinking too deeply about something that was probably a simple question.
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
The question progressed and his eyes narrowed as they shifted in a direction that seemed to show that growing bundle of discomfort that was growing into a mound within his chest. Now it seemed to be a question of, Should he answer the obvious and risk the option of being a smartass prick, or to just simply answer in a different direction and seem like an idiot who had no grasp on the current context. It was equally as frustrating on either side of this spectrum. “Not so much a, ‘How’, as this is a, ‘Why’– but, My Mother’s side of the family is from here before they moved to America– and figured I’d make a visit, see what it’s about, catch my bearings?“ A pause, his shoulders bunching up in a shrug before exhaling slowly in unison to the motion. “It’s comfortable enough … I suppose.” He couldn’t help the wrinkle between his eyebrows from becoming slightly more prominent than it was moments prior. It wasn’t a lie, But, It was a portion of the truth. He wanted to be as far away from the shit show that was happening at home– and it was just as easily better off anywhere than there. The silent expectations that enclosed on him were almost suffocating in their own light, and anywhere was better than there.
PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 AHN TAEJOON 》
“AHN TAEJOON is a twenty-year-old PROJECTIONIST at DIAMOND THEATRE, WEBTOON ARTIST and HACKER who goes by the alias SYPHON.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
Anonymous >>7875865 (OP) # 08/03/18(Fri)23:03:16 No.7885875
I feel like generally, I’m someone who could be considered pretty normal if you just look at me. Looking closer, I’m actually kind of a loser and all I feel like doing sometimes is collect figurines and sleep all the time. Would be awesome if I could get paid to do that. I even dropped out of going to university because I saw no point at all. ( Plus I’m 19 and got plenty of time to figure shit out, right? Whatever about what people say about not going to school right after high school. )
Basically now I get to legally watch movies for free and draw without anyone interrupting me. Not many people notice me in general which is pretty awesome. Just another nobody slacker lol. By the way, OP. If you need some good recipes, I can give you the link to my onion. It’s got all the shit I used to make for my mom all the time. Also, it’s for other stuff but you didn’t hear it from me.
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
Anonymous >>988002 (OP) # 10/19/2017(Tue)02:34:31 No.988019
Usually, I say the same as everyone else did. Or something flashy or edgy like I swam the frigid English channel to get where I am now. But I got where I am cause my uncle moved me to the country I’m at like a couple years ago or whatever. He’s paranoid as shit and thought the government was after him so we ended up moving all the way to Timbuktu ( or somewhere around there ㅡ wouldn’t actually give out my real location, dudes ). I think some of this runs in the family. Who knows… The Internet here is a little better than the US. And I don’t really have anyone to hang out with but that’s cool with me right now. I don’t like to stand out much.
PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 KIM DOYOUNG 》
“KIM DOYOUNG is a twenty-two-year-old THIEF, HACKER and PHOTOGRAPHER that goes by the alias WATCHMAN.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
Kim Doyoung. Middle child (with an inferiority complex). Hot-headed jock with a surprising amount of brain, but no impulse control. Free spirit. Photographer extraordinaire. Good, respectable citizen who does his parents proud. Sort of. Most of the time. Mummy hasn’t heard him on-coms whilst he’s gaming yet.
A man who has embraced modern technology and gives thanks daily for the invention of wifi, and most importantly, the internet. For the internet has taught him much and shaped who he has become today. The internet is infinite but people don’t realise it, and he learns to exploit and manipulate that ignorance for his own gain. It birthed Blvck.
It was worth the whippings from mother dearest – “I’m not addicted!”
They didn’t understand. Blvck probably earned more than dad ever could. So what if he failed chemistry? People studied to get jobs. To be financially independent. He could obtain that financial independence with Blvck.
Such is the naivety and boundless optimism of youth.
In the end Blvck had to disappear because mother was right – “It’s never enough for you until its too much.”
Mother is always right. Today, he hides his tail. But it’s like she says – it’s never enough for him. Blvck might be gone, for now. It’s never enough, and the itch has always persisted… (one day)
It’s never enough. (Something to fill the void.)
Kim Doyoung. Occasional unethical ‘photojournalist’ / informant. Secretly the night’s Watchman, lurking in the shadows waiting for their next adrenaline rush. Information broker. Thief. Errand boy? Maybe. He works for himself and himself only. But he can be bought… for the right price. What’s his price?
“Hmm, I dunno. I like that ring of yours?”
There’s no point in trying to figure him out. There’s nothing to figure out. He’s a simple man – doing what he wants, when he wants. Why?
“Why not?”
Kim Doyoung is the kind of person who’ll go down in flames because he’s too damn stubborn to fix his flaws.
“I’ve got no regrets.”
(Lies)
He’s never been an honest person.
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“Eh, I was getting bored of Seoul I guess,” he shrugs.
Not really.
He’s a true blue Seoul native, and the city will always be where his heart it. But family can be stifling. Suffocating even. Big brother has always been an unfortunately persistent individual in such aspects.
“Needed a breather. A change of pace.”
Or needed to run away for a bit.
“Nobody knows me here! I can reinvent myself! Hah!” he jests, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Maybe the new me will be a clean-cut church oppa… or I’ll just be the weird new guy from the mainland.”
Doyoung never did mind being an outsider. He preferred observing from the side-lines.
Myeongcho might not be Seoul, but could be just as lucrative. The intrigue she offered is bound to be more intense than Seoul given her more ‘closely-knit’ community…
It’s never enough— for Kim Doyoung.
PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 REN DAIYU 》
“REN DAIYU is a twenty-three-year-old THIEF that goes by the alias MATAGOT.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
“my name is ren daiyu, but i think you’re asking me for a little more than that, correct? i’m not sure how much i can tell you, i’m supposed to be in hiding. witness protection or something like that.” the woman laughs. it’s hard to tell if she’s being serious or not. “i grew up spoiled. i live spoiled. i’ll probably die spoiled. but at least i’ll have loved every minute of being alive.”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“my accent isn’t that bad, is it? i was told i was quite good at languages. maybe my tutors lied. well i came here on a plane, of course. i was supposed to be a gymnast, but then i grew too tall too soon. so i found other hobbies. they landed me in a bit of trouble, but it was no great hardship to leave china behind. it’s almost coincidence that i’m here exactly, but i’m glad i am now.”