#thr.il.

[sarcvsms]

@jonginxkai

when he woke up that morning, he couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going to happen and he couldn't understand why. it had settled in his chest the minute he opened his eyes, stealing whatever of the little peace that he had to begin his day with, making him feel on edge. perhaps it was the fact that he'd been drinking the night before or the fact that he was scheduled to meet up with a potential client sometime around noon, but neither of those made sense to him. he's drank heavily plenty of times before and the worst is that he'd woken up with a terrible hangover- which wasn't the case today. as for the as for the second reason, it made a little more sense, but not really. it was a standard out-call. He was going to consult with his client about their tattoo and then proceed to give them their tattoo if they came to agreement. simple right?

however, the minute he stepped into the nearly empty restaurant, something screamed wrong at him. walking closer to the only person in the vicinity save the staff, he couldn't help the familiarity he felt, he paused. 'it couldn't be-' he thought to himself trying to brush off the rising memories. the mural, his bright smile, the trouble that he had gotten into for it. he shakes his head in order to rid himself of the idea before sitting himself across from the stranger, ordering himself a coffee when a waitress stops by. he leans back and clicks his tongue, resting his arm on the back of his chair. "so, you're kai?"

[sarcvsms]

@jeon-hojin

despite the blasting music, the heavy scent of alcohol, and lingering aroma of sweat wafting through the air, ilsung doesn't find himself having as good of a time as he thought he would've at this party. leaning back against the railing of the balcony he's isolated himself at, dying cigarette hanging from his fingers, he watches from the scene from afar. it's one that he knows well, one that he's seen an almost unfathomable amount of times before. people drinking their weight in spirits, others dancing and grinding against one another on the dance floor, and quite a few high as kites on whatever chemical concoctions they could get there hands on. there was a time when he was a part of all that, when he revelled in it without a fuck in the world.

but there he was- alone, observing the party unfold with little interest. he clicks his tongue and grunts as he turns around to look out into the city instead of the chaos that's happening behind him. he takes another long drag of the cigarette and exhales a cloud of smoke. it briefly crosses his mind that maybe, he's getting too old for these things and a bitter chuckle escapes him, his status as an incarnate weighing heavily over his shoulders. maybe that's it, he internally decides. glancing back over his shoulder, he remembers that just about everyone in the apartment is younger than him- his technical and actual age being twenty-five. it's then when he notices someone approaching. he raises a brow at them and speaks, "what brings you out here?"

[sarcvsms]

muse: lee ilsung open to: males / females / non-binaries connection: an old friend or ex from his troublesome youth in foster care. ( for more info, please message. ) plot: ilsung works as an underground tattoo artist under the pseudonym, anteros. your muse- without the knowlege of who he actually is- somehow gets a hold of his calling card in hopes of getting some work done. when he shows up to their designated meeting place, cue bittersweet nostalgia, emotions, and the ever-so lovely, "what the fuck happened to you, i thought you died- you haven't aged a bit!"

if it hadn't been for the fact that they were the only person present aside from the barista in the deserted cafe as well as the fact that they were wearing exactly when they'd described in their messages, he'd have thought there was some sort of mistake. but nope, there they were. in the flesh and clear as day much to the tattoo artist's chagrin. he really hadn't planned on being so blindsided today and if it were up to him personally, he'd have turned on his heel and rescheduled their meeting to never in a million years.

but that obviously wasn't going to happen today. not when they'd glanced up to meet his gaze. their eyes widening in disbelief at him. after some internal groaning, ilsung had shrugged and sauntered over to the booth they were stationed at and slides himself into the seat across from them. "you know," he begins raising a brow. "you're the last person i'd think about when it comes to getting tattoos-" he pauses. "you literally used to give me shit about wanting them- piercings too-" he criticizes before leaning back and narrowing his eyes. "you've changed a lot." he says quietly.