#v13:gala

[syxsol-blog]

//escape these streets;

@jisoov13

>> Sol is currently up in a tree outside the gala, perched like a small blond eaglebat. Night vision glasses that adjust to any heat or light irregularity sit on his nose (gotta make up for lack of enhanced vision-- he’s no Nashira or Sora). Image of nonchalance over twenty feet up and waiting to be called in at any moment. Jaewon isn’t here to scold him, and Jisoo definitely isn’t going to snitch. “Get this-- Minhae has made me change twice already. Why would you need to change your clothes more than once? I’ve also been asked several times if I’m old enough to be by the bar. It’s not like I was going to drink or anything.” He’s eating stolen finger food from the gala as he talks into his comm device, glancing back every once in awhile to check on Siwoo and Nashira. “Anyway, I need a status report. Any closer to the collector?” Sol makes a face. “I heard them flirting with you. All of it.”

[syxjaewon]

‘don’t talk to me’

@v13sora

it’s bad enough that people can’t stop looking at sora’s body anyway even when she’s just wearing normal clothes ( although the term “normal” is a bit relative in regards to her ) but here at the gala of course, she’s dressed up to put the night sky to shame and jaewon has to keep biting the inside of his cheek to quit looking at her. they’re here on a mission, he can’t get distracted, but when he tells her to stay behind on the dance floor, insisting that she would be better as a diversion so he can go search for the den, she argues with him. he grits his teeth and growls in his throat, but she won’t be left behind apparently.

after the disaster with jisoo and the fights he’s having with half the rest of his crew at the moment, he really doesn’t need the extra issue of sora’s sass, but here they are anyway, wandering through a room with a shit-ton of books—what’s it called again? a library? who the fuck has one of these in a hotel?—jaewon actively avoiding her gaze. he tries rummaging through a few books on the wall. “i’m looking for that one book you always see in movies where you move it and a secret passage pops out..”

[syxjaewon]

‘adorable’

@v13minhae

jaewon actually can’t remember a time when minhae wasn’t an annoying, irksome little asshole, but tonight has already grated jaewon’s nerves raw, his patience pretty non-existent by the time he first steps into the hotel. lights, camera, action, and here they all are in fancy clothes, pretending to be gentry so they can find this collector person. jaewon has heard of the collector of course, rich and powerful and evil—the perfect kind of mark in his opinion, but instead they might be more or less forced into some kind of business with him, unless they can’t dupe him first, which isn’t going to be easy. which means they need to be careful. focused.

and minhae is the opposite of focused. jaewon has no idea what his tactician is fucking doing, besides goofing off, but he’s really starting to question why he has him on his crew in the first place. not that he would really kick him off, but he can certainly threaten it to his heart’s content. “minhae, what the fuck,” he growls under his breath over the coms as he stalks down a hallway, approaching a locked door. “what is that splashing sound? are you in the bathroom? i need you to pay some goddamn attention and open this door, i’m on the west side.”

[syxjaewon]

‘guiding light’

@v13nashira

honestly jaewon is so frustrated as the night goes on, he doesn’t really give a shit about anyone’s complaints, and by now, he’s definitely been listening to a lot of it. not to mention all the missteps and mistakes going around—for such a purportedly intelligent group of people, they sure are a mess. they’re his mess though, so it makes sense that jaewon is fucking things up as well, and then doing his best to take care of everyone.

no one is making a lot of headway though, and the last thing he needs right now is nashira, acting like a spoiled pampered brat about not being on the main playing team. he doesn’t need this bullshit right now, he needs her to fucking focus. “nashira, i need you on the west-side of the ballroom,” he murmurs into the coms. “there’s someone over here eyeing us like he recognizes somebody, and i need you to distract him. where the hell are you, anyway?”

[syxjaewon]

‘problems’

@yiv13

jaewon bursts into jinyi’s room fully decked out in ancient western style clothing, a little over the top but he’s pretty sure that’s what passes in parties like this. he’s only been to two or three before but that was a long time ago he hadn’t been in charge of his own outfit choices. he’d been part of the stand-by crew before, but now it’s game time and he intends to fit in. and this is the coolest thing he owns. “what do you think?” he asks her as he puts on an ancient cowboy hat. “with the hat, or without it? for the gala later?”

[syxjaewon]

‘discretion’

@v13yang

it’s not the easiest thing in the world to have voices stuck in your head, especially when it’s minhae and jisung, along with having to search as lowkey as possible for something he’s not entirely sure of what it is from a guy he can’t be sure is even real ( but is supposedly super dangerous), while also keeping track of his wayward crew members as they inevitably make messes of things. jaewon is stressed. he is frustrated and getting angrier by the minute.

it doesn’t help that he’s 89% certain one of his people have just been made by some socialite asshole who looks like minhae’s rejected child. jaewon doesn’t even want to know why he’s been staring at yang like that for the last couple of minutes, but he knows he has to do something about it. and that fucking sucks.

he heads over to his crew and blocks the on-lookers perspective, leaning in real close. “you need to get out of here, at least go into the other room or something, come on,” he grabs and tugs on yang’s elbow, trying to be discreet.

[syxjaewon]

‘dead meat’

@v13jisung

“you’re such a goddamn little shit!” jaewon spits into the ear comm, the frustration burning the edges of his vision, turning everything to a red hazy color. why the fuck does he have such a useless crew? why does he allow these assholes space aboard his ship if they can’t even do something as simple and stay where they’re fucking supposed to, and do their fucking jobs. what the hell is he paying them for? this isn’t a goddamn charity.

“jisung, i swear to god, i hope you’ve just gotten murdered or something because if i find out you’re slacking off or running around the hotel somewhere, i am going to murder you myself.” he growls out the threat, already picturing it for future reference, as he stalks through a hallway in the back end of the building, very deep into the “no trespassers” zone. all the doors are locked around him, there’s guards on his tail, and he is supposed to have someone on comms, hacking into the system to open escape routes. he can fight these motherfuckers off, but not without triggering the sentinels and the whole damn point of dressing up so they can infiltrate this place is so they don’t have to trigger jack-shit.

his heartrate is speeding and he grips the handle of his gun in its holster. fuck this job, if it’s between his life and some merchandise—he’d rather go out blazing.

[syxsol-blog]

@yiv13

>> He finds her in vanta’s dining area. It’s not the first place he looked, and Sol nearly forgot the little ‘manners’ date on his itinerary log. That little slip in his mind certainly explains why he shows up in yesterday’s clothes. Already covered in some dried transmission fluid from being under the engine of a hover two-wheeler he stole rescued from a junk station in Kavasch’s atmosphere. He hops up on one of the free counters, lifting a clean teacup in front of his face. Pastel with flowers. It’s strangely archaic in a way, like the type of set his mother would collect from a black market trader in Nuwa’s slums. An antique earth tea set. Sora probably stored it here.

“So--” he starts, wiping his sleeve over his cheek and only managing to smear the wet paint on his skin. He’s in the middle of painting red flames on the body and it’s gonna be sick (according to him)-- “--m’not workin’ the field for the gala. But… do ya’ think I could fool everyone I’m upper class? Or at least belong there.” It’s not often Sol is unsure of himself. He extends his pinky finger out toward Jinyi, biting into his tongue and grinning. “Teach me your ways.”