#spx:masquerade

[spxlyla]

running out of time.

Too many events in one night. Too many. 

She had just managed to break out of the trance that she had slipped into when her system failed to initiate a fight or flight response, and instead chose to shut down. (In all honesty, she was lucky to still be alive, when instead of running while bullets flew everywhere, she sat on the ground screaming with her head in her bloody palms.) But finally, her body initiated a proper flight response, and she was approaching the exit while helping a girl around her age, who got shot in the leg, limp towards the safety of the outside.

They had just made it to safety, outside, when the explosion deafened their ears, and sent them both to the ground.

It felt like forever before she regained focus and push herself off the ground to catch sight of the venue burning down to the ground. She stared as the flames engulfed the whole floor with its yellows and oranges, heat blazing out of the building ready to scorch anything in its path, and smoke so black, enough to permanently tint an inhaler’s lungs. Shards of glass scraped her skin, and blood oozed from the small cuts. She turned to the petite girl next to her, both with wet cheeks and quivering lips. 

This was all a terrible nightmare. It had to be. And all nightmares came to an end. But not before they’ve reached their worst. She could swear she knew the body that lied there on the ground a few feet away from the fire. She did not think she could feel any more fear than she already felt, but seeing that mess of brown hair on the ground, not moving, and no one reaching for him, taught her that there was no limit to how much fear can multiply.

And so, she got up. Not fully aware of what she was doing as she ran towards the body. Someone tried to stop her, but she pushed them off and ran, disregarding the flames, disregarding the possibility of another explosion, disregarding the glass and pebbles and concrete cutting through her feet as she mindlessly stepped over them with bare feet.

She reached the man on the ground, dropped next to him. Never in her life did she expect to witness the impaling of a real, live, breathing, human being in person... but there he was, a block of wood, (probably the leg of a table or something of the sort), sticking out of his abdomen. She wanted to throw up... he looked so familiar... was it Baekhyun? Yoongi?

She quickly snatched the mask off of the man’s face and... thank the lord... He wasn’t who she thought he would be. In fact, she had never seen this guy before. She let out a cry of relief, but then panic seeped into her, twisting her stomach into knots as she realized, the man was alive... but seriously injured... dying...

“Nonono! Stay with me! No!” She held the man’s hand tightly. “We need help!” She screamed out at the incoming officers. It was the law that first responders, especially medics, could not approach the scene until it had been cleared, for their own safety, but that didn’t stop her from calling out and yelling till her voice cracked and she choked on her tears. 

“Stay with me, please, please! What’s your name? What’s your name? Can you hear me?” The man muttered a response, and she leaned closer. “Jaerim? Jaerim? Is that your name? Stay with me Jaerim... help is on the way! ...Press against my hand if you can hear me... can you hear me?” She felt mild pressure applied to her hand, and she nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes! Good! You’re doing good. Keep breathing!”

“Please!” She screamed out at the ambulances, medics now approaching the scene and attending to victims as fast as they could. “Please! Over here! He’s losing a lot of blood! Please! There is no time!”

Finally, a pair of medics approached her and began attending to the stranger as fire fighters passed them towards the venue.

When will this nightmare end?

[spxsuho]

after ever after

@myungsoospx

he’s wandering around the survivors and helping the medical personal see to the wounded, telling them he was a private doctor had helped them a lot and stopped them giving him mistrusting eyes.

junmyeon has just finished treating a burn when he catches sight of a very familiar back. one he knows too well after years of spending time together with.hope flares in his chest that his lover had made it, survived the massacre.

he confirms with his patient that the man is fine before taking off at the fastest speed he dares with his cracked ribs. his eyes scan the venue crowded with the wounded and he wonders if it’s just a figment of his imagination. he can’t help but feel bitter when his hope is washed away just like that.

he stands in the middle of the crowd, people parting around him and he let’s tears of frustration overwhelm him. he doesn’t even bother wiping away the salty streaks, knowing they would reappear again seconds later.

[spxsuho]

say a little prayer

he thinks it’s all just a dream when the explosion hits. he’s in the middle of a hallway, making his way back to the ballroom to help his fellow agents when it hits. he’s only several steps from the main entrance, but the blast propels open all the other doors lining the wall.

one smacks him in the chest and sends him into the adjoining wall where his whole body makes a painful crack against it.

junmyeon feels pain all over his body and he’s sure he’s got at least a cracked rib and probably a concussion. he’s wobbly on his feet and stumbles. 

when he reaches the ballroom, leaning heavily against the wooden frame all he sees is destruction, bodies litter the floor, the once elegant chandeliers now in a million pieces, the ceiling length windows have nothing left but it’s somewhat sturdy frames.

junmyeon slides against the frams, sinking to his knees as he lets out involuntary tears. everyone he knows and fellow agents... he prays for the first time in a long time that everyone is safe and whole.. but he knows that it’s a far fetched idea. 

a sob is ripped out of him when he realized that his myungsoo could be one of the people on the floor. lifeless. 

not sure of time and space anymore, junmyeon gets up mechanically choosing not to enter the ballroom. he blocks out that part of his mind, the one that thinks of the worst and he hopes for the best. 

making his way slowly and wearily out of the hotel he can hear the blares and flashing lights of the emergency services. he can’t help but let out a laugh the bubbles it’s way out of his throat. 

too late. they were too late. so many lives were lost all because no one had predicted such a disaster. the laugh aggravates his wounds. he collapses to the ground, coughing up a little blood and then there’s medic swarming over him. 

he attempts to bat them away, throatily telling them he’s fine and waving them into the massacre behind him. he limps over to the curb, sitting down heavily when a little girl runs up to him.

junmyeon looks up at the small tug “thank you for saving my mommy, when you’re better come and have food with us” she says softly passing him a paper with a phone number and address scribbled onto it. before she leaves she kisses him on the cheek ignorant of the blood and grimes caking his skin.

he watches her run back to a woman, no better than him but he recognizes her. she sends him a grateful smile and is then cuddling up to her daughter.

the sight is something he can’t bear, knowing his myungsoo is no where and the small niggling thought is that the younger man might be gone. junmyeon turns away and catches sight of an officer approaching him.

nothing new, a post operations interview. junmyeon pulled a grimace as he attempted to stand. giving up, he stayed on the ground and waited for the man in blue to approach him.

the interview in short, just needing a statement and then he’s gone to collect statements for many other survivors. 

a drop of water lands on his cheek and he looks up, it’s drizzling. mother nature was crying for all the fallen. junmyeon let’s go, joining mother nature in her sorrow.

[spxkyuhyun-blog]

i’ll be flynn

@spxjung

kyuhyun is prowling the ballroom, attempting to find his elusive date. how hard was it to find jinah? there were only several people at the masquerade who had dared to try and pull of the colour white and so far jinah was the only one rocking it. heck that had been a very pricey dress.

he thinks better of trying to find his elusive partner when he passes by the bar for the third time that night and thinks that he deserves a drink. one for putting up with this bullshit and dealing with his parents gushing about his new partner.

he’s about to order his usual from the bartender when he notices a small discrepancy towards his left, just a little further off from the bar. 

it’s a woman attempting to bat off the advances of a much larger man. kyuhyun doesn’t hesitate, striding over and pulling the other man from the lady.

“it clearly shows she’s saying fuck off, so why don’t you do just that. fuck off and go after someone your own size” kyuhyun smiles, his eyes hinting at violence if the man doesn’t follow his suggestion

[spxkyuhyun-blog]

till the bitter end

somehow against all odds, kyuhyun had managed to survive the masquerade attack. he’d even managed to get outside with only minor injuries, but that could not be said the same for alot of other people. 

for a second he had thought he was clear, enough to help the survivors on the green. no, not a second later a loud explosion rocked the ground. unfortunate for kyuhyun he’d been right next to one of the windows when it happened.

shrapnel flew, glass broke and it was mass confusion and hysteria all in one go. kyuhyun himself had been thrown several feet away from the blast, heat singing his exposed skin, he must have blacked out because the next thing he knows there’s a medic trying to ease him onto a stretcher.

he struggles for a moment, blind panic but then calms when the medic assures him about his condition. they give his an oxygen mask and check him for concussions and then they release him to a waiting police officer, after words of warning to take it easy.

the man takes his statement all business and then leaves kyuhyun alone. he calls for his personal security detail and stands off to the side, recollecting his thoughts. reviewing the night of disaster from the get go.

[spxjinah-blog]

--the last of us.

@spxkyuhyun

“They can’t see me...” Jinah murmured softly, her usually airy voice weighed down by the emotions and stress of the evening’s events. Previously styled blond tresses tumbled down over her face and shoulders in uneven layers. Her bruised fingers were held up to her face, obscuring her features to those who could see her as she attempted to look around for something, anything to hide behind. Jinah’s mask was lost somewhere between the ballroom and the rooftop, along with her shoes and layers of crinoline that gave her dress extra volume. As much as it pained her to have to take a knife to the gown and leave her shoes behind, desperate times called for desperate measure and she couldn’t let Cha get away. 

Frantically looking around, the sight of a discarded mask on the floor caught her eye, a mask that was a pale shade of gold with simple designs crafted in white. It was chipped, a part of the mask missing in the top corner, but Jinah didn’t have time to be picky. She could hear people making their way into the ballroom to search through the wreckage, but she was not planning on being seen. Hurriedly tying the discarded mask to her face in an attempt to keep her identity a mystery, Jinah stumbled out of the ballroom as quickly as she could with her bare feet. She could feel where the bottoms of her feet were cut up from the shattered glass and splintered wood, but now wasn’t the time to complain. 

As she exited the building, Jinah was met with a wintry wind whipping against her skin, along with police sirens and lights from ambulances and cries of people in distress and- 

She paused in her steps, taking a deep breath and attempting to focus and reorient herself as she thought of the people she last encountered. Soohyuk had disappeared, and her parents were okay. Jinhee had a chance to escape as well. Soojung had to have made it out as well. Kyuhyun... “Kyuhyun-” Jinah breathed out, hurrying down the steps in her torn dress. “Kyuhyun? Where are you?”

[spxkyuhyun-blog]

a little bit of night

@spxkibum

he’s just finished having a nice long chat with his parents, namely them voicing disappointment that he hadn’t introduced his lovely date to them sooner. they also expected for him to donate a sizable amount for the fundraiser later that night before they departed for their flight.

somewhere during that conversation jinah had fluttered off to mingle with the other patrons of the party leaving kyuhyun to their mercy.

kyuhyun can’t help but smile at his parents enthusiasm that he’d somehow found a “partner” he’s chuckling into his glass of alcohol when a very familiar face and body emerges from the crowd. someone much too familiar.

a night of passion between sheets. and gone the next morning, kyuhyun can’t help but flush. kim kibum. what was the singer doing here? kyuhyun wondered, mystified. 

[jiminspx-blog]

⋯turmoil [pt.1]

    One moment he's running away from what was left of the group of terrorists raining bullets upon them, and next air is knocked out and backside feels as if alight, broken nose avoided only barely as his reflexes worked fast enough to catch the fall with arms outstretched, even with left one aching from the few stray bullets lodged still inside, he regrets that, immensely, immediately, cannot form any level of gratitude for the loud cry that pushes itself out under one breath going unnoticed by all.

    A null ringing in ears confirms what he's belatedly become aware in next moment of clarity within silenced chaos, rolling to lie on back as right hand is brought up and cupped against mouth and nose with little success on keeping smoke out of lungs, he's coughing already and eyes sting with unshed tears, the action rendered useless.

    He's feeling the full after effect of impact soon, too soon, focus wavering but he pushes past it, forces himself upright and blinks the room to attention, realizing he must have been down for more than couple seconds as the smoke's more or less cleared, and the sight is one of true terror.

     Bodies strewn around, moans and sobs carrying to numbed ears he notions then with slight fleeting relief are at the very least not bleeding, severed limbs lay way ahead and then the torsos of those who had been beyond unfortunate in position at time of the explosion ( how dare, how low, how typical ) unable to flee fast enough. No guns are singing. Every movement in vicinity languid and instilled with hurt.

     Smell of death is slow becoming impermeable, he is near able to taste copper on tongue and blanches. Standing up is no mean feat, had he been alone, had situation been less critical and civilians left uninvolved, he'd stayed right there and awaited help to arrive.

     This however was not the case. He would live, bit worse for wear and disoriented mayhaps, but he was certain no internal bleeding was present, thus fortifying his decision to get back up and give aid to those in need. Moment of thought is spared to fellow agents, blind and wishful hope held in high regard for each of their ability on taking care of themselves in such disastrous turn of events, walk off unscathed. God knows is any of them had family with them, he's gravely adamant in belief any and all survived, so far, unwilling to mourn for what could of been, what may be yet result of this mess of a party.

     He can't seem to locate Jinhee still, assumes she was farther away already when he sprinted forward back there like a true fool, Himchan most likely bruised from the bomb but fine, the man had been ways ahead of him. He's more concerned for the man whimpering few feet to his right, leg bent in an unnatural angle from shin down, fabric shredded and burnt, revealing similar fate of his leg.

     It's easier to focus on the stranger than the situation as a whole, his own pain flaring up upon each step taken, mask discarded for comfort as it is far from being needed anymore. He's barely reached the side of the poor guy when the agent is sinking to knees and becomes aware of the horrifying amount of liquid maroon staining previously grey colored suit.

     "Hey." His voice comes out scratchy, but levelled enough he gains confidence and ushers shame to the side while delivering a bold faced lie, smile forced, but reassuring. "You will be fine. Hey, don't move. I'm here to help. You will be fine. Just.. don't move or talk lemme--" Hand reaches out to take the other's, useless comfort perhaps but one the man latches onto tight as he attempts to assess severity of damage and what could be done.

He needs medical care, now and not a moment later even he could see this was the case and even in best case scenario he might not pull through, ragged breathing telling enough of a sign for him, tears mixing with blood. Own expression hardens, he's on the verge of two, but Jimin is not a quitter, he wont allow anyone else to succumb to their untimely fate either if he could help it.

He can try, he will try, He will save him.

     A wet cough leaves lips red, and he's so sorry, so lost and unable to make him feel any less broken it sets a new kind of panic within nerves, he's releasing hold on the hand, forcefully, and begins undressing the man of what's left of tattered jacket. Fingers steady, he doesn't pause even when they color red, eerie warmth against skin when he pushes against chest -- where is it all coming from he can't-- "I need a medic here!"

     He doesn't expect anyone to help, to be able to, but it's a hope, among many he's had in the past few minutes he'd like to see to become fulfilled, but it's all spiralling now.

     More coughing.

     "No no no stay with me come on." He props the guy's head up, waits to see it do absolutely nothing in terms of easing breathing, breathing at all, at this point.

     He wont make it.

     "A doctor will be here soon just focus on my voice, you will be fine it's--"

     Body convulses underneath him, he knows what comes next.

     "Please.." He's unsure what to beg for, a miracle? Time machine to cancel this from happening?

     Rigid, then nothing.

     The man lies still, painted with violence undeserved on features.

     Victim to a group of disgusting animals who play with people's lives. For what?

     Victim to an agency bringing failure in their wake upon the night they should of been awake.

     Victim to the incapability and utter disregard of one Park Jimin.

     He should have known better. Been better.

     In the end, nothing has changed, past keeps repeating itself like a broken record. He couldn't save anyone. 

     Blaring sirens are a distant static in his person, Jimin does not move nor give notice to what goes on around him until hands are pried off bloodied shirt and he comes close to elbowing the officer, broken nose avoided by both of their reflexes, luckily.

     Sobering up, he allows them to steer him out, towards the van holding and surrounded with several other people in varying stages of distress, evident on grim faces and state of dress, lacking in blood however compared to him, which earns the male a few flinches, but he returns the sentiment and takes seat on the cold pavement in wait for turn to get checked under watchful eyes, quick falling back to quietness and into the turmoil beneath skin, not too worried about being detained for questioning at current moment.

     He would deal with it, as he does with everything else.