#pointzdaehyun

[anastasic]

"This is not fair."

"Mhm... and reiterating the statement doesn't do a thing to change it." She paused with pursed lips, blank as a stone statue that held a furnace within, and the only evidence of the fire was the mere reflections of lights and shadows in her eyes. "You're the genius. What're you going to do about it?"

[anastasic]

pointzdaehyun: 

pointzrenata:

"Welcome to the company, /and/ the department, sir." Her lips stretched into a jovial grin, "I'm Renata Faulkner, and it's quite the pleasure to meet you. I hope, non?" She let out a lighthearted chuckle.

a quiet sigh made its way past slightly parted lips; the enthusiasm the woman brought along with her introduction already tired him out. what’s with everyone in that company being overly joyous and happy—? “i am not sure whether it is a pleasure to meet you or not quite yet, miss faulkner.” he responded, voice nonchalant as he examined his nail beds briefly. “seeing as i have just met you, i will have to let time judge that.” his eyes flickered from his nails to the wall, staring at nothing in particular. “my name is jung daehyun. genius scientist.”

Pff... what a charm.

As soon as she finished her welcome, her features went from evidently animated, to a simple tight smile. She had to hold her lips firmly shut so she doesn't break into laughter at the response she received. It was about time she ran into that type of personality. Not  that she intended to judge, but the likes of him gravitated to this place like filings to a magnet, she could only be amused when she finally ran into the first of many to come of that type. "But of course." She replied, a poised smile stretching her lips, that might've been a tad too sly for the occasion. "Time will tell all." Her stare was unbreakable as she noted the latter's nonchalance, "How unfortunate you were merely hired as a scientist then, monsieur. Tch, quel dommage." She added, batting her lashes slowly, unable to hide the amusement on her features.

[reboot-survivor]

Perpetual Quarrels

They should have been in a room of metal, oil, failure and success. They should have been surrounded by an atmosphere that allowed nothing but the thoughts to branch evermore. Of course, this ambience never lacked the tingling, yet soft, scent of coffee and profanities. Yongguk and Daehyun should have never ended up in a situation as such.

Yongguk always began with a comforting silence. With this friend, it allowed him to recollect all that had been scribbled into the transcripts of time. This silence, later grown into a buzzing of ideas, permitted him to converse with an individual far off any from ordinary human’s understanding. This brilliance, being Daehyun, required more than attention to befriend.

The ideas always led to quite the interesting trail of topics in a conversation. One moment may have been dedicated to the theories behind certain pre-existent inventions whereas another may have been passed onto their own creations — Yongguk’s being related to time and Daehyun’s being mere fractions that his aptitude could produce. Both males held so much potential, yet time consumption always limited them to what they could do.

Whether it was fixation or psychosis, the duo always had some fresh concept to work upon. This concept was always unheard of, that is unless Yongguk decided to peek into the thousands of threads once more. Regardless, whole problems of the modern society could be turned over into a new implementation in a single conversation. Yongguk’s sceptical view of life in all of the world lines and attractor fields explained his need to redevelop and create. However, nothing seemed to explain his friend’s. Whether it be intuition or pure genius, Yongguk could never know.

And so it had to be in the middle of one of their conversations, brimming with ideas and scientific details that Yongguk ran into him. It had to be this one man out of all there was in humanity. With a slight exaggeration of flying papers and murmured annoyance, Yongguk’s attention was turned away from Daehyun and to the papers that rested innocently upon the ground.

Having always been the clumsier of the two, Yongguk was quick to mutter his apologies and assist the unidentified individual with recollecting the scattered sheets. As the unorganised pile began to grow in his hand, fractions of words revealed themselves. One of the many words had to be ‘Jung’, and of all faces made by Daehyun, this one meant trouble. The problem only grew as the soft profanities muttered by the male escalated.

“Oh you stupid boy.”

[pointzyoungjae]

Comin' Home || Daehyun && Youngjae

He had awoken atop metal and soft clumps that caused his nose to wrinkle in displeasure, the smell was not at all pleasant and he wanted to get away from it. The pile of stuff he was sitting on shook and he looked around him, confused. The last he remembered was awakening to a male's voice, laced with distaste. He wasn't able to move, speak or even open his eyes at that point, not having enough energy stored for it. The robot had just stood where he was, allowed whoever had created him to push him along and then he was falling; metal and hard walls surrounded him for a period of time he could not distinguish until he was moving again into a larger metal container, this one moving afterwards. Eventually, the power he had stored dwindled until he could no longer support his conciousness, succumbing to sleep for recharging.

He was finally dumped out of the metallic container, out into the air and sun. It was days before he had gathered enough energy to stand and figure out how to walk, of course he had been programmed to have motor skills but he was new and just testing out these skills and the lack of power did not help either. As soon as he had started walking he felt a tugging sensation in his gut; it pulled him west, there was no room to ignore the sensation and so he started the trek west.

He assumed that's where his creator was, it was leading him to them, the male voice he had first woken up to. The robot wondered why he was shipped off like this, if he had some sort of malfunction and was discarded because of it. He felt a longing separate from the pulling that made him want to see his creator. What did he look like, was he young, did he hate his creation; the questions steadily ran through his synthetic brain.

Months had passed, 3, if his calculations were correct-- and they were. The internal compass within him had pulled him through city after city with little to no stops along the way. The determination to find his creator pushed him to continue walking and soon enough he knew that he was close. He stood in front of a house, it didn't look familiar but it felt like it, he could tell. His brain told him to knock and he raised his hand, clenched in a fist, to knock on the door. 

Am I finally home?