#v.strike

[jongdangel-archive]

< @calier || continued from here !! >

jongdae's on his fourth beer and he doesn't feel a thing, and he chalks it up to the fact that the grace running through his veins doesn't allow for very much deviation from homeostasis. it's as infuriating as it is useful (especially in drinking competitions), and now just so happens to be one of the times he finds it most irritating. he'd certainly rather know what it feels like to be drunk out of his mind, but for now, he can deal with cal's company instead.

he snorts and downs his beer, setting the glass back down onto the table with more force than necessary. he's jealous of the way cal can easily succumb to the pleasure of narcotics, but he doesn't voice this. instead, he says, "yeah, but they're about as big as your thumb nail. s'not the first i've ever heard of this fear but--" man, humans are fragile, "--i'm still convinced we can help you get over it."

[jongdangel-archive]

Writes over his forehead and cheeks "I give people things I randomly find on the ground"

:::      + Write Something on Me! | Accepting!

He holds still while the other writes across his forehead and cheeks, and he has a hard time guessing what the other could have possibly written. He has to remember to keep up the act of shyness and he quickly puffs his cheeks, his brows furrowing. “What did you write on me? It was something nice, right?” He fishes his phone from his pocket and holds it up, though the letters are backwards. It takes him a few moments to finally figure out what the other has said, and a sudden blush colours his cheeks, though this time it is filled with genuine embarrassment instead of feigned shyness. How had he found out? He couldn’t have possibly known the truth, right? “Wh-what are you talking about? Those flowers were for you! I thought you might like them and that’s why I gave them to you,” he huffed, skirting around the truth without outright lying. It was a specialty of his he planned on exploiting for as long as necessary, and he slipped his phone back into his pocket with an unhappy pout. “If you wanted to deny me, all you had to do was say so, my feelings will be okay…”

[jongdangel-archive]

“Who did you get all these roses for?”

:::      + Valentine’s Day? | Not Accepting!

“Who did you get all these roses for?”

The roses truly were a surprise for the angel as well, for he’d padded outside in the early hours to find them situated outside his apartment door quite prettily, and there were exactly a dozen of them. He had no use for them, nor did the bouquet come with a card of any sort telling him who his anonymous donor was. Maybe it was a mistake, and the flowers weren’t really meant for him? Or possibly they were, and the card was lost in transit? He could think of no one who’d send him flowers, though, and he had no real use for them except to maybe see how many could withstand a couple jolts of electricity. As he picked up the vase gingerly and inspected it, a door rattled down the hall, signifying someone coming out, and his curiosity got the better of him as he stood frozen to the spot.

“Oh? It’s you!” The angel perks up at the familiar face that comes into view, and he quickly pads over to the other, only to be questioned about the flowers in his hand. His attention is brought back to the roses at hand and he blinks, a thought flashing through his mind at the same time a smile does much the same across his lips. “Oh these?” He places on his best act in hopes of being able to rid himself of the flowers he doesn’t need, complete with a shy look down at the flowers and a blush right on cue. “They’re for you,” he says sweetly, holding out the vase. “I know it’s sudden and I don’t really have a reason to give them to you, but, er, I wanted to give you these because I like hearing you play the piano all the time. Keep up the good work,” he murmurs, eyes flashing behind dark lashes.

[jongdangel-archive]

“the painist”

( @yixingwrites ! )

     Yet another night had the angel up and awake, and even though he knows sleep is essential for humans to manager their meager lives and continue living, it's unimportant to him and he plays with tiny jolts of electricity that form at the pads of his fingertips. It keeps him entertained when he's not busy staring at the moon longing like a lovesick teenager, or cleaning his apartment. Since there's not much to do, he has no need for regular cleaning, and tonight is no different.

     However, the clock strikes 2, and the moment he'd long awaited finally came. The soft echoes of ivory being pressed and chords struck to emanate beautiful notes and light melodies reached his ears, and he goes still, letting the sounds of the music flow through him as his eyes slip shut moments later. For some reason, he feels as though the tones tonight hold a much more melancholy feel, and the angel swallows, and memories he'd tried to suppress come crashing back with immense force: running through fields laden with flowers of all types with his friends, playing with his sisters, protecting his brothers in the plight of battle, and sharing laughs at each other's expense when the fight was over and done. It makes him homesick, and tears threaten to spill, much to his surprise and annoyance.

     Quickly wiping his eyes and standing on shaking legs, he takes a deep breath before quietly padding out of his apartment in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, he locates the source of the music a few doors down. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to knock on the door, as he stands listening to the tones as they evoke feelings of misery and longing within his heart. Brushing these emotions aside, he quickly raps on the door three times with his knuckles and stands back, hoping the evidence of his tears was no where to be found.

[jongdangel-archive]

( @vnclie )  “ cracked icicles  ”

If he hadn’t disturbed the fae’s latest attempt at entertainment, he wouldn’t have been left in this position. His kill escaped, leaving Aindreas angry, yes, but more amused by the other, the powers they had. For what seemed to be only minutes to him, but hours in reality, ice and darkness classed with light, electricity. Both had shed blood, but Aindreas was much more happy about the fact than the other. Jongdae. A man he had met once before. 

A wicked grin spread out on his lips, the fae licks the blood from them. A few chuckles sounding from his throat, his words sounding almost foreign with the accent carried in his voice. ‟ Standing after all this time? My, you must be strong. ”Not even having to move a muscle, the fae sends yet another barrage of blackened shards of ice in the other’s direction. Laughter leaving his lips as he watched them dodge most of them. ‟ You can always just give in. Death is a dear friend of mine. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind letting me borrow you for a few more days. ” Body disappears only to be found once again just inches away from the one he spoke to, deathly pale blue hand forcefully taking a hold of their neck.‟ After all, you did ruin my fun. ” This time, it was both of them who disappeared. The wall nearly breaking from the force with which the fae slammed the other into it. Where humans would quite literally freeze from being so close to him in this form, Jongdae was perfectly fine. Despite the cuts and blood scattered throughout his body. The realization bringing yet another grin to cerulean lips. Oh, the thoughts of what he could do to him, to his body. It sent a chill of excitement down his already cool back. Keeping his hand where it was, he forces their head back, mouth latching onto the junction where his neck and shoulders meet. Fanged teeth piercing their heated skin. At the taste of their blood, he hums. ‟ Oh yes, I’ll keep you for days. What a lovely toy you’ll make. ”

A scrape across his left cheek, and a gash across his thigh with a few minor bruises he couldn't feel and a numbness in his fingertips that was exhilarating in a way. Nothing too big, nothing he couldn't handle later. However, Jongdae was faced with a formidable opponent in the form of a man he'd come to know quite well, Aindreas. He'd never known the other possessed such strength, speed and agility, but he'd known of the man's temperament and he'd always been one to push too far. He didn't regret it one bit, however, and having an opponent such as this one that enabled him to unleash the full potential of his abilities on someone who could handle them was more than a high for Jongdae. It'd keep him coming back for more, and he knew it in the back of his mind.

He grins then, sparks of electricity dancing on his fingertips and the ends of his frost dusted hair. "You think I'd give up that easily? Man, have I got some news for you," he retorts tauntingly, dancing around most of the sharpened ice sent his way. One barely misses his chest and another grazes his arm, and Jongdae knows then that he's reaching his limit. They've been at it for far too long a time, and as much as Jongdae would have absolutely loved to continue, he knew that he had to get out of there somehow or he possibly would end up dead at the hands of his long awaited rival. He refuses to let this show on his face however, as he merely shrugs his shoulder, eyes not moving from the other. "Oh believe me, I know him too, and I have no intention of meeting him any time soon. You should have been picking on someone your own size." The sudden reappearance and disappearance leaves the angel startled, however, as it hadn't been something he'd been expecting, and before he's able to retreat, an icy hand is gripping at his neck.

Another blinding second and his head is literally bouncing back from the wall upon which it's forced, and even though he's got one hell of a pounding headache, he's able to ascertain the wall looks to be in worse shape than he does. Sharp teeth piercing his neck cause the angel to cry out in his True Voice, a pitch and frequency too loud and too high for human ears just as his own hand reaches up to grip at the neck in front of him. It's more uncomfortable than painful, and Jongdae glares daggers at the other before his expression reverts back into its normal taunting phase. "'M no damn toy, you brat," he hisses, sending a sharp jolts of electricity through the veins of the other's neck. "You'll have to do more than that to even try me," he taunts with a piercing grin, parts of his Grace already working momentarily to try and seal a couple of his wounds while the other was distracted.

[jongdangel-archive]

Living together is hard, especially when both of them have wounds that possibly will never heal. Screams and growls fill the tiny apartment but she doesn't leave her position in front of the door: if he wants to go out and keep on harming himself, then he'll have to step on her corpse. "Stop it! You hate me for hurting you but now you're causing yourself pain on purpose!" A pause. "Stop destroying who you are... Hurt me, kill me, but stop doing this to yourself! You're too beautiful for this..."

He’s crackling with rage and anger, and it boils through him as thunder roars loudly through the apartment, waging a war with the growls ripping from her throat. She’s always so incessantly nosy, so irritating, barging into business that isn’t her own when she never cared in the first place, and those sweet, saccharine words are once again dripping from the tongue that had spoken so many heartfelt lies once upon a time that Jongdae had been naive and blissful enough to believe. It angers him more and more, and he stands in a stance of pure power, fingers clenching and unclenching as the only thing that stands between him and the outside world where he can finally breathe free from cloying lies and deceit is the very source of them, Ahreum herself.

“Move Ahreum, now. You don’t know anything about me.” His voice is low, cold and dangerous, and his teeth are bared and a snarl curls through his chest, his sanity is holding on by the last strands of its fragile thread. He’s oh so close to tossing her aside and simply walking out himself, but the last words off her tongue startle the angel momentarily, and he’s only got one thing on his mind: she has to be lying, she has to be. There’s nothing beautiful about a broken angel like himself, one who’s damned to Earth for eternity, unusual, an outcast. There’s nothing beautiful about his addictions, nothing beautiful about the disheveled state he’s in. He covers his ears and squeezes his eyes closed, his True Voice ringing loud and clear through the apartment as he simply yells, trying to drown out her words. 

“It’s not true! You’re lying, you’re always lying everything is a lie! Why should I believe you?! Everything is a lie, everything is a lie…” He trails off, sinking to the floor on his knees, and suddenly there are droplets of water falling from his cheeks he hadn’t noticed before. He’s crying. He’s weak, he’s broken, a crying mess as the thunder dies down into a gentle rumble, and there’s certainly nothing beautiful about him. He knows it.

[jongdangel-archive]

Alabaster fangs violently sink into the delicate flesh of her arm as she curls up, whining and growling silently as she fights against the instincts that plead her to go out and hunt - No, she needs to become a better person, she needs to be forgiven by him for everything she did. Eyes close, the bite simply becomes stronger and all she can do is to wish that the taste of her own blood will be enough to calm her hunger, enough to calm her inner beast. She can do it, she must do it for HIM.

A glass shatters and only adds fuel to the burning embers that make up his rage, so he takes another, and another, and still yet another and smashes them all into dazzling pieces that seem to vaguely resemble the state his shocked heart is in. Salt water streaks are falling in angry trails down his anger reddened cheeks, teeth bared and grace curling and roaring through him as he struggles to calm himself down, but realises that he can’t. He can’t, and he won’t. He’s been betrayed, hurt, broken beyond repair, and it’s all because of one person whom he could sense in the room just down the hallway. He stares at the pile of broken glass in the middle of the kitchen with blurry eyes, chest heaving and mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He won’t forgive her, never in a million years.

He’s running off the ire that sets the ichor in his veins ablaze, and he’s suddenly trudging down the hallway with heavy footsteps and slamming her door open to find her in a most bizarre state against the wall. It further confuses his already fuddled mind, and he stares at her for a long moment with nothing but rage, hurt, and most of all disappointment before he spots her teeth buried in her arm hard enough to draw blood. He disappears after a moment and comes back a short while later with a paper towel, and without saying a word, he gently but firmly tugs her arm away from her teeth and presses the antiseptic soaked towel against the open wound, refusing to look her in the eye. He may be upset and damaged beyond repair, but he’ll be damned if he were to let her do this to herself.

[jongdangel-archive]

“ no, i’m not going to. ”

:::      + 5 Word Sentences! | Not Accepting!

“ No, I’m not going to. ”

“Aw, c’mon, sourpuss!” Jongdae should have know that trying to get the grumpy man to come along with him would have been fruitless, but he figured that hopefully somewhere along the way he’d be able to melt that cold exterior and at least find someone worth making a friend out of. If not, oh well then; Jongdae had no problem with it, and could always grow accustomed to the snide remarks and harsh underhanded comments that consistently seemed to fall from the other’s lips like water.

“Just think about it,” he began, slinging an arm (that probably wasn’t welcomed, but the angel got great joy from pressing each and every button he could find in his newfound companion) around the other male’s shoulders since they were thankfully the same height, Jongdae managed to tug him along even with the sour expression that painted the other’s demeanour. “Do you know how much fun we could have together? Don’t think I forgot about the time you froze my lips, it took them hours to regain feeling, and then a full week to regain their normal colour,” he grumbled petulantly, but brushed it off quickly. “C’mon, you owe it to me, at least this one time! Let’s pull a prank on someone. Please, pretty, pretty please? I promise I’ll leave you alone afterwards!” Of course it was a lie; his fingers were crossed, and a grin twitched across his lips, but he did his best to look the other straight in the eyes . “Do we have a deal?”