ᴏᴘᴇɴ.
The scent within the air was not faint or subtle, at all — In fact, it reeked of iron; As if the smell of blood wanted to carve itself into his senses. "Ugh . . . " The groan came from the depths of his throat, vibrating within his chest whilst the large palm of his hand eased itself upon his dislocated jaw. CRACK! And with the snap of it, and a resounding exhale to pair, would the vertebrae of his neck & adjoining bone snap back into place. "Fucker didn't want to quit. Almost sad—" He almost coos, mockingly, as if he hadn't put himself deliberately in the line of violence.
Yet the grin festering in the rotting glee of his body drops immediately once he feels another pair of eyes freeze atop his features. Joo-won's head turns slowly, ever so slowly, to face whoever disturbed his peace. "What the fuck are you lookin' at?"
