( gong yoo, cis-male, he/him ) Apparently SEKI KANG has been spotted sneaking around Halcyon Island after dark. The 40 year old normally resides in the NORTH but the exact details are murky. It seems their alliance to the GLASS has drawn them out of hiding, just in time for the annual meeting of the Faction leaders. Be cautious if you see them around, because whilst they are FAIR, they are also STUBBORN. Rumor has it that they currently work as ARCHITECT and that they have the power of DRAWING PERFECT CIRCLES.
info .
name: seki kang nickname(s): sig date of birth: july 20th, 1986 age: fourty place of birth: halcyon island power: drawing perfect cirlces
gender: cis-male pronouns: he/him sexuality: gay
occupation: architect education: halcyon island university affiliation: the glass family: mother & father (alive), junho (brother, deceased), ex-husband (alive)
aesthetics: soft sweaters warm and fresh from the wash, a glittering skyline watched from the dark of an apartment, floor to ceiling windows, a steaming mug of coffee, high shelves with neatly stacked books, coming home after a long day to a warm embrace soundtrack: false confidence by noah kahan positive traits: patient, compassionate, hard-working, fair negative traits: gullible, over-thinking, melancholic, stubborn
height: 6'0 eye color: dark brown hair color: dark brown notable features: always wears a ring on a necklace
bio .
( tw: death, drugs, mention of overdose )
you were born as second son, which brought about more freedom than your older brother junho would ever have. being the older one earned him the responsibility of shouldering the family’s law firm one day, of stepping into their parents’ footsteps and becoming just as successful. to keep the quite famous, anonymous clients as happy and out of prison as possible. being the younger one meant that you could be as childish in things as you wanted to, cause a ruckus and have junho pick up the pieces, because that was what older brothers did; roll their eyes and complain while simultaneously lending a helping hand. you never needed to grow up quickly and get a perspective on life, could sink into easy dreams and wishes and childish indulgences. even the discovery of your power was inconsequential at best. it might have been true that there was not a single circle you couldn’t draw perfectly, but that was hardly more than a party trick. nothing the directorate would arrest you over. so, you were free to be a childish boy, living your life without a care in the world.
right up until junho’s death.
they called it an accident, but no one would tell fifteen year old you what’d happened for the brother you’d always leaned on to have a closed casket and a sad little funeral. you’d never know before it was over, but there was only a brief period where you were allowed to mourn and be confused before suddenly, everything shifted into a perspective you were ultimately terrified of. you were the oldest now. you had to grow up. the future of the family business sat on your shoulders like unbearable weights that stopped your feet from doing more than just shuffling, get you out of the spot you were all of a sudden frozen in. there would be no more time to excitedly thumb through pages and pages of detailed floor plans of legendary island buildings in different eras, no more time to waste your time reading books while pushing junho’s glasses up your nose, that only made the world blurrier instead of clearer.
you slipped into the role, albeit with trembling fingers and panicked breaths instead of the clarity with which your brother had done it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you also weren't supposed to silently, stubbornly blame your brother for leaving you here as you stood in front of his grave and threw a rose onto the lid of the casket. you’d never been alone with anything before, but perhaps it was how junho had always felt standing in front of your parents that had everything mapped out for him until he took his last breath; which in this instance had come awfully early.
you finished school, the impending application to law school looming over you like a heavy shadow the entire time, darkened the path ahead until you figured you’d need your own personal reading lamp to keep studying the history of halcyon island and its structures, the buildings that had risen out of the dust after the harshest times. brick walls that you knew in theory but hardly ever in practice.
it weighed on you, dragged you down until you found yourself on your knees in front of your parents, stumbling and stuttering through the speech you’d prepared to convince them of letting you take the reins for your life instead. no law school, but the best architecture university in the city, because you had a plan for your life and you could make it work.
one year into being an architecture student, you began to feel the weight again, the shadow gripping at your arms and pulling you back, further into the dark. perhaps this time, the expectations you were drowning under were your own. begging on your knees as gracefully as you could as the adult you suddenly had to be was all good and well, until you failed in the execution of your plan. you felt the burden anew, and decided to chase it away; in the form of white powder and a man you regularly met in a back alley to get it from. perhaps, that was a beginning of something new as much as it was an ending. you could forget the burden for a moment before it came flooding back and you came back for more. it pushed you into a never ending cycle that was even comfortable for a while, before it became a necessity more than it was just for release, relaxation. it was a loop you almost began to cherish when you saw the man who handed you the little packets in the dark alleys at a party, in the light for the first time. perhaps, that was another beginning as much as it was an ending.
he called you a dork and earned your heart quicker than you’d have liked to admit. you went on in the light then, instead of hidden away in the dark. and he went from being a stranger to something familiar, from something familiar to a steady comfort, from a boyfriend to a husband. you went on with the drugs because you needed them, measured and careful. one can only be measured and careful when there’s no panic in play, you’d come to realize. or, more, you’d be forced to realize. you went on with the drugs until your heart skipped a few beats too many and you had to stop. your husband and you continued on, too, for a solid decade, before irreconcilable differences were cited as your reason for separation in your divorce papers.
fortunately enough though, you hadn’t been wrong about going into architecture being the right thing for you. people didn’t spare expenses for the best blueprints they could get, and it astounded you day by day that you were taking part in adding to the ever growing city you were so fascinated by. you ended up taking the job with the glass they’d been offering you for ages, only having held off because you and your ex-husband had decided on staying neutral, before it all fell apart.
you joined an underground war you wanted no business in, and yet your mere existence as someone with a power, no matter how meager and small, made you part of it nonetheless. only time would tell if peace was something you would be allowed to claim or not.
wanted connections .
tba
