AnasAbdin
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Product Placement
d e v o n
@theartofmadeline
Andulka
Show & Tell
Cosimo Galluzzi
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
trying on a metaphor
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
One Nice Bug Per Day
JBB: An Artblog!
Sweet Seals For You, Always
★
wallacepolsom
🪼
Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies
seen from Canada
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Finland
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
@usb4
hi everyone!! i go by em and i'm here to introduce you to my boy daeho. i've got a (very bare bones) profile for him and i'm still putting the pieces together to turn him into a real person, but below the cut is a little rundown so you can see what he's all about ♡ hit the heart and i'll come running! discord and ims on here are both fine.
the crowd that had occupied the dance floor moments ago begin to shift a little closer towards the bar, gathering in packs at nearby tables where they had left their drinks, hollering over the music blaring from the speakers. as the noise around them increases, and he raises his voice a little to strike up and continue conversation, danbi finds herself placing her hands on the curved edge, hoisting herself up on her toes and leaning over the bar top ever so slightly so she can properly hear daeho. she doesn't want to intrude into his space, so makes sure to keep a respectable distance, but she does want to make sure she can keep up and won't have to ask him to keep repeating himself.
"it's nice to meet you, daeho," she offers him a warm smile, eyes crinkling a little as she lets out a soft laugh. "you're right. i don't think we have gotten a chance to introduce ourselves, but it's nice to put a name to the face of a fellow third floor resident." the ends of her mouth curve up a little more, happy that next time she sees him in the hall she can give him a proper greeting without the awkward shuffling and simple, small nod of acknowledgement. "i'm danbi, by the way." she chirps a second afterwards, not wanting to forget to introduce herself. it's not the most ideal place to get to know the neighbor occupying the other end of the hall of the apartment building, but danbi is grateful to be able to spend her time chatting with someone as opposed to just wandering around on the dance floor alone.
"i'm not much of a drinker," she admits, a little shyly, as she finds it a little silly to be saying such a think in such a packed club. she had agreed to hang out with the girls from work under the impression they would have been doing something like going to the cinema or getting dinner after work - clubs weren't really danbi's thing, but it wouldn't hurt to have one drink and try to loosen up a little as she waited for the others to come back, whenever that might be. "but i do really like sweets. just nothing too strong, if you don't mind." she offers daeho another gentle smile, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she watches another bartender swoop around behind him to help a nearby patron. "i'm sure whatever you make will be delicious. you must be really great at bartending to work in such a busy club! how long have you been working here?"
“team third floor, right? we’re the best.” his grin is conspiratorial, as if there’s any competition about this at all (not that they wouldn’t win one). but now that he’s thinking about it, they do have a pretty solid lineup across the floor, with a varied skillset. or so he assumes, even though he knows nothing about what danbi’s good at - aside from the fact that she’s clearly kind enough to stay behind and watch her friend’s drinks. the only thing daeho does know with some amount of certainty is that she works more regular hours than he does, but almost everyone’s doing that.
he reaches out to the side to grab a glass to fill for her. “i mean, i can make it virgin if you don’t want to drink. you just gotta tell me.” danbi doesn’t seem like someone who’d have more fun here if she had a buzz going on top of the sensory overload, but daeho knows better than to say that to a virtual stranger, and it’s easy to drown the taste of alcohol with a sweet mixer.
“it’s been a few years. my first gig was at this little bar close to the university, there was so much foot traffic.” daeho barely remembers those first few months of his moving to ansong. it had been in the fall, five years ago now; he’d woken up one day with no idea what to do with himself, only in the knowledge that he did better working night shifts than anything too early. and that had been all there was to it: the faint idea of what to do with himself, how at home he felt in busy bars and the club. getting the job had been easy, and then a co-worker had referred him to the hiring manager at illusion. by spring the next year he’d had the job he’s still working.
he gestures towards his ear, joking: “i think at some point this gig will ruin my hearing.” there are faint cheers from the dancefloor as he says it, the dj putting on a well-known track that has people singing along. daeho adds juice to the shaker, drops ice into the glass. “but now you know where i work. what about you, some kind of office job or something more exciting?” he can’t quite imagine her behind a desk, but daeho knows not to let appearances deceive him; everyone who meets him dressed down during the day takes him for an computer guy, and they’re sort of right about that too.
welcome to ansong's first ask meme weekend! we hope these can help you all learn more about each other's muses and foster lots of in character interactions! to participate in the ask meme weekend please reblog this post! we ask that you please only send questions to those who have reblogged the post. please try to send out at least five questions or prompts to different muses for them to answer before answering your own! this ask meme weekend will last from november 15th until november 17th @ 11:59pm est. while you can only send in asks during this timeframe, you have up until november 29th @ 11:59pm est to answer any you received! for these, any three emoji memes answered OR any one dialogue starter prompt will count towards next week's activity check (november 23rd)! please tag all these as as:meme001 and, of course, have fun! <3
♦︎ ♦︎ ♦︎ ⸻ insu drove almost breezily, leant back casually with a single hand on the steering wheel. something always felt right when he was driving, like the planets were aligning and all the little bits and scattered pieces were locking into place. driving was like a second home to him now; driving was almost as easy as breathing.
it also was easy to be like this, riding in the car alongside daeho. their destination might already be set but that didn't mean the time in between would be uneasy. it tended to stay comfortable when he was with daeho, and insu knew that if there was anyone he could just talk to and feel like he didn't have to put up too much of a front with, it would be him.
"that's fucked," he scoffs as he listens to daeho's explanation, knowing how irritating it can be to be in his situation. he was glad he could help in some way, enjoying feeling like he could at least be useful to someone. he catches movement out the corner of his eye and frowns deeply, tapping on the breaks a bit harder then necessary and shooting his arm out to brace daeho.
he huffs a 'asshole' under his breath to the driver that cut in front of them before speaking again. "they're lazy as hell, too. probably didn't even bother to come inside. like we don't have workin' elevators or something." he slides his arm to rest on the back of the passenger seat headrest and glances over to daeho with a little smirk.
"but—now you have me and melissa to keep you company. the trip isn't long, anyway." even if it would have been, insu hardly minded, regardless. riding like this was never a hardship for him, and daeho's company was always a welcome distraction no matter what.
"what did you even order anyway?" he peered at his GPS to make sure he was still headed the right way and flicked on his turn signal, a quick and smooth movement that probably would have looked flashier if insu wasn't so used to doing so. it was almost like muscle memory, at this point, though he's never sure why it was. "probably some fancy ass computer part, huh? fucking tech-bro," he mused, glancing back to daeho, eyes full of mirth and tone heavily teasing as he says it. daeho was probably one of the few people he was comfortable talking to like this. a testament to their friendship... or... something.
“yeah, well-”, daeho starts, but then his train of thought is interrupted by someone swerving onto the road ahead of them, insu’s arm keeping him from jerking forward. daeho straightens, half of a mind to roll down the window and start yelling a little. it isn’t worth it, he knows - but he always feels more strongly when it’s friends being wronged, and insu is at the top of that list, someone he doesn’t want to see endangered over someone else trying to save ten seconds on their commute. it’s not as though they won’t end up at the same red light.
he’d say as much, but insu doesn’t complain, and daeho is mollified quickly by the conversation. “it’s a shitty job, so i can’t really fault them. but i let them in all the time, so, yknow…” because of his working hours, daeho often accepts other’s packages. and he doesn’t mind it, but this drive halfways across the city is testing his patience a little; not because he minds the excuse to spend time with insu (and melissa) but because of the inconvenience of it all.
“yes, yes. you two are real lifesavers.” he rolls his head over against the headrest, blinks up at insu in a laughable imitation of the sort of coy flirting he often witnesses at the bar. it takes only moments before he cracks up, though - he can’t find it in himself to keep the bit going for too long. “and it’s nice to finally meet melissa. i’ve heard so much about your girl, i can’t believe you’ve been keeping us apart for all this time. worried she’d like me better than you?”
the gps shows that they’re only a few minutes out. daeho shifts his weight to get more comfortable, stretching his legs as much as the space allows. “you don’t have to call me out like that,” he whines, but he’s not serious about that, either. “i picked up this piece of junk i’ve been wanting to restore. gutted it, turned out none of it was even working right, so i’m just going to redo the whole thing.” a sigh, long-suffering. “so yeah, it’s tech. but don’t play, you’re just as bad as i am.” daeho knows what kind of cash insu’s dropped on his car; there really isn’t that much of a difference between shelling out for a new gpu or an engine. they both own toolkits, even if daeho’s screwdrivers are smaller. it’s not as though there isn’t some overlap.
——— nic offers daeho a shrug as he pulls open the front door to the building and holds it for his companion before following behind. "i also like my social life," he muses as they make their way to the elevators. nic pushes the call button with his knuckle before he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. this is all to say that while nic does enjoy placing himself in the company of other people often, he always tries to go to bed before the sun comes up. his body tends to wake him up when the sun creeps through his curtains anyways, so it's not like he could really sleep until 3 or 4 in the afternoon even if he didn't have to work.
nic snorts but offers a shrug. he probably should also change, even just existing in illusion makes him feel sweaty and gross most days. it's the heat of all the packed bodies, he reckons. "that's fine, i'll leave the door unlocked," nic says easily, considering what games he might be better at than smash. the list is slim, and while mario kart is one of them, he's not that much better at it. nic just really isn't a gamer. "and sure, i'll dig out something by the time you make it upstairs."
“i know you do,” daeho jokes, bumping his shoulder into nic’s. the lift’s doors close in front of them; there’s that little jolt as they start ascending. “cool. don’t let any ghosts in.” there’d been a joke once - with someone - about the building being haunted, but daeho doesn’t quite remember who had brought it up. certainly not nic, but it’s the season anyway. who knows, the undead might be running around.
they stop on the third floor and daeho waves over his shoulder as he steps off and heads into his apartment, almost fumbling his key as he shoves it into the lock. the shower after is quick, efficient; his hair is still damp and free of product as he puts on sweatpants and a hoodie, rifles through his kitchen cabinets for a snack to bring. loaded up with his portable charger and food, he chooses slippers over more decent footwear and makes the ascent. nic’s door, as promised, is still open.
“i brought something to eat,” he calls out as he nudges it shut behind him, padding towards the living space. a bag of chips, gummy bears, dried coconut as his attempt at being a little healthy even though he knows it’ll go untouched once he’s high. he drops it all next to the couch.
"sorry, sorry," a pang of guilt hits callum in that moment as he sees daeho's typically composed composition turn to something a little more unsettled; on top of it all, the sensory overload just creates even more layers to the slight tense feeling of being in the maze. with the combination of sound effects at maximum volume, strobe lights, actors hiding behind corners and hidden crevices in the walls, everything feels like it's moving at an extra half beat.
he feels dumb that he's lost his group and now he's wandering the maze alone. the warehouse they decided to build the haunted maze in also clearly has poor ventilation, enough that callum has to fan himself with no reprieve. the way daeho’s shoulders are tense, just slightly, doesn’t go unnoticed, and guilt prickles again at the edges of his consciousness. it’s easy to forget how disorienting the whole setup can be, even if they’re both supposed to be here to have fun.
callum shifts his weight to his right foot, glancing around at the dimly lit, web-strewn surroundings. shadows flicker and twist unnervingly with every strobe flash, and the scent of fake fog clings heavy in the air. he's accustomed to the stuffiness and overstimulation, but without anyone with him, it feels a little lackluster. "no," he answers daeho a little too quickly; clearing his throat and wiping his nose, he shifts his weight to his other foot this time. he's not lost — just temporarily isolated. "i mean... i got separated from my friends, so i've been waiting here for a bit to see if i could find them, but it's been awhile. i don't know if they're that severely lost or what, but i'm thinking at this point it's probably better to just meet them all at the exit."
maybe it comes across a little too cold-hearted, but callum trusts they'll find their ways. eventually. the sounds were just beginning to really give him a headache, and the spandex was bunching underneath his slacks enough that he needed somewhere to go readjust. another strobe light paired with the sound effect of a loud crash of thunder later illuminates the look daeho gives him. he wishes more than anything he could've had just a cape to call it a day instead of this synthetic nightmare. "we're actually not far from the exit. i can tell from the patterns of the maze we're basically at the end — if you're not waiting for anyone, you're welcome to tag along."
the maze, daeho has decided, is scary mostly when you’re moving through it too quickly to have a look at all the small details. it’s claustrophobic, tight. there are corners that can only be traversed one person at a time. if you spend too much time thinking about it, it’s clear that a lot of planning has gone into fitting a lot into a relatively small space, keeping the pathways coiled around each other. probably, if the wall he’s looking at was see through, there’d be other people walking through a section that’s either way closer to the start or the end than daeho would expect. but he’s not good enough at mapping it out in his head that he could pinpoint it, draw the space on paper.
now that he’s standing still though the decor looks pretty fake, helped along by the shock value. the spider staring them down is made of paper; the fog they’re pushing into the space serves to obscure it a little, enough so that a passing visitor might mistake it for being real enough, if spiders could grow that big in the first place. it’s a bit of a struggle to breathe, not because he isn’t getting enough air into his lungs but because the quality is just bad. but daeho’s accustomed to that: it can feel like this at the club too, especially on the themed nights where they bring out all the gadgets to promote an atmosphere.
“so your friends got lost,” daeho says, because he can read between the lines - but he can’t help but grin around it. “and you’re the only one left.” it’s probably a bit mean to joke, but then again, callum doesn’t look too freaked out. and he had given daeho a scare, so fair’s fair; it probably evens out their karma, or whatever else is keeping balance in the universe. “i mean, are they the types to head to the exit? if they’re not huddling somewhere waiting for…,” he squints at callum’s shirt, “superman to save them that sounds like a plan.”
in truth, daeho has been wanting to get out. for a while now, in fact: while he doesn’t mind poking around a bit it’s a lot less fun on his own than it might’ve been with a bunch of friends yelling his ears off. he shrugs, takes a few steps down the corridor and waves at callum to follow. “i won’t lie, i’ve no idea where i’m at. i figured, better to get my money’s worth and have a look at everything, right? but at some point it starts looking very same-y. i think i’ve seen at least three of those spiders, and definitely not because i've been here thrice.”
the sound of the music begins to swell as the speakers overhead thumps from some obscure electronic dance music she's never heard before, the crowd on the dancefloor letting out cheers as the dj takes on their requests to turn the volume up. danbi glances up from her phone, having been checking her text messages, to where she had last seen her colleagues, the girls clinging onto their dance partners underneath the flashing lights. her gaze lingers for a moment, wondering if they would be occupied for the reminder of the evening, before quickly turning away to focus on the two drinks in front of her. never leave your drinks unattended, she nods to herself, hearing callum's voice in her head. even if the girls wouldn't be back for a while, she wouldn't let herself be irresponsible and leave their drinks unguarded.
she glances back down at her phone for a split second, checking the time once more, seeing it's not even been five minutes since she'd last checked, before her attention is stolen altogether and she glances up to see someone standing in front of her from the other side of the bar. it's not someone she knows very well, but danbi instantly recognizes him from the apartment building, remembering that he lives on the same floor as her a little ways down the hall.
"hey! yeah, that's right," she says, leaning over a little to talk as best as she could over the music, the ends of her mouth curving upwards. she has only seen him in passing, and doesn't even know his name, but there's something about seeing a familiar face amidst the crowd that makes her feel a little more at ease. "it's nice to see you," she exchanges pleasantries, though she's genuine about her words, leaning back after a second as her chocolate orbs scan over the drinks in front of her. they're a little past their prime, now mostly watered down, the ice having melted some time ago. she wonders if the girls will even want them at this point. "that would be great," she laughs a little, nodding her head at the idea. "i'm not really well-versed in this type of thing, so whatever you recommend would be perfect."
daeho gets, to his great relief, immediate confirmation: yes, she’s also seen him around and she wants to acknowledge their distant acquaintanceship even within the crowded context of the club. he had been prepared for her to give him a searching look or deny it, really; he looks different off work, hair unstyled and in clothes that fit a little less tightly. less unexpected, too, to see a neighbor carrying groceries than behind the bar at a nightclub. but there’s that look in her eyes, like she’s glad to see someone who knows her after she’s clearly been left behind by whichever friend’s drinks she’s guarding carefully.
“sure, it’s nice to see you too.” he gets momentarily distracted by someone yelling somewhere further into the space, but it’s nothing that needs attention from him, so he turns back to her. “i’m daeho, i don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves?” the noise makes it a little difficult to hold a conversation, even at the bar where it’s a little more quiet; he has to raise his voice to make sure she hears him fine. but that’s just business as usual, and he’s long used to communicating here. he’s spent so many hours behind the beer dispenser anything else would be laughable.
“are you drinking?,” he asks, thinking through the options. she seems like someone who’d appreciate something impressive-looking, alcohol that loses the kick when mixed with different flavours. “and do you like sweets?” something pink, maybe. he catches the eye of someone else to her left, but flags down his coworker to deal with the person instead - they’re not busy enough yet that he can’t spend some time talking to the girl who lives a few doors down and whom he’s never properly spoken to. maybe, he realises belatedly, he should’ve said hi at some point earlier, just to make this conversation flow a little easier. once he’s out of a job he’s kind of worried things will get awkward quick, and he’ll have to find something to busy himself with.
daeho's almost always one of her first couple customers on days like these; a good preamble to the friday morning rush that's sure to follow. with him, she's long since given up on forcing her capitalistic grimace smile- it's too early for really anyone to pretend like they're actually happy to be working and not in bed. like clockwork, he pushes the door open, right as she's brewing her own cup of coffee.
she waves in response to his greeting, before filling a cup with ice and water. "can't complain, but i'm sure you've got a lot to say." being in customer service's bonded them in a tentative acquaintanceship, forged in the flames of consumers' irrational anger. yijung's a little chirpier than usual, a result of actually sleeping well the night before; evident by the faded creases of her pillow on her right cheek and the bit of pep in her step. she knows very well it'll disappear by the end of her shift, but daeho finds himself in a spot of luck today.
"i'm feeling nice today, so." yijung pours the shot into her glass, giving it a quick swirl. "what are the vibes we're going for today? what are we feeling? hot? cold?" she takes a sip from her drink, giving him time to ponder. her eyes rove over the assortment of syrups and ingredients, mind already cooking up possible combinations.
“can’t complain yet, you mean.” daeho shares a smile of joint suffering with yijung. it sort of feels like he’s handing over the baton in a sprint: where he gets to stop and go home, yijung picks up, making coffee for the people who were stumbling home just a few hours ago. and everyone with a decent sleep schedule, too, but daeho rarely sees those types around.
he reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, riffles through it to drop the appropriate amount of money on the counter: for his americano-priced drink and a tip for her. he probably makes more of those; drunk people don’t always pay that much attention to how much they’re slapping down in front of him. “no, it was okay. someone threw up over the bar but i wasn’t the one who ended up cleaning up that mess, so whatever.” it had been business as usual, really. thinking back on it now there aren’t any conversations that stick out as overly negative; once he’s gotten his sleep he’ll have forgotten about all of it.
“nice, huh?” even when her attitude can be somewhat brusque sometimes, daeho doesn’t really know yijung as anything else. then again, he might’ve ended up on her good side through no particular effort of his own. “hot, it’s gotten so cold out. not too much caffeine. i want to shower and then sleep for half the day.”
the red glow of the emergency button left a cast of color on june's face. okay, don't panic. she told herself as she leaned against the wall and tried to regulate her breathing. the immediate panic that settled over her body was unexpected and definitely brought on by the fact that she was still a little intoxicated. she placed a palm flat against her chest and took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.
"it's nice to meet you, too," she finally struggled out. her cheery and friendly demeanour faded quite quickly as she realized the situation they were in. stuck between two floor in a little metal box wasn't the way that she wanted to spend her time, not that it mattered. they were obviously stuck here. "how long do you think it'll take them to get to us?" she asked leaning up against the wall and sliding down. the fluffy scrunchy that held up her ponytail slid out from the friction against the elevator door and she sighed softly. "it's fine, right? they shouldn't take that long," she asked looking for reassurance more than anything.
there was no way to talk to anyone from the lift. daeho checked his phone for signal and found he didn’t have any - it was the sort of mild inconvenience he endured everyday on the three-story travel, that now felt much more like a problem than it had ever before. having done everything he could do aside from yelling, he tipped his head back. it hit the wall of the lift softly. in the dark they were in the tightness of the space felt oppressive, like it was bearing down on him. daeho had never considered himself claustrophobic, but the itch beneath his skin was driving him crazy - he was tired, dehydrated, felt gross in his work clothes.
“i think these things go pretty quick.” he set his phone down, flashlight pointing up. at least he had enough battery left not to worry about wasting it. “probably longer than usual though, ‘cause of the hour. if nobody gets here in, like, in hour we can start yelling. my neighbour works for the fire department.” callum might be on duty, but he’d come back eventually anyway. daeho sat down, propped up against the wall. you were meant to do that, right? in the unlikely event the lift came crashing down? “you were out partying?”
. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [incoming for @usb4] ࿐ྂ
if you could go into her apartment on any given day of the week there is one thing you will always find; a plethora of takeout and delivery menus. maybe it was nari’s inability to cook, or the sheer effort that learning how to fend for herself would take, but she always found herself falling back on the ease and convenience of food that came hot, cooked, and ready to go. though part of that could be accounted for in the fact that she did not for one moment trust herself in the kitchen. most of those menus could be found tucked away in the set of dresser drawers that were oddly being used in her living room as a television stand. digging around in said drawer she paused and held up a random menu.
glancing over her shoulder at daeho who was perched in his usual position on the couch aka the spot closest to the wall outlet so he could plug in his laptop. “what about this place? i think we liked their food last time…” walking back over to sit on the other side of the couch she plops that menu along with several others into the space between them. just as she didn’t trust herself to cook she didn’t trust herself to pick something completely, not after the last time she’d been the one in charge and ordered someone something they were allergic to. yeah, she hadn’t known about their allergy, but she still couldn’t help but feel a bit shit after regardless. “and if none of those sound good we can always walk to one of the usual close by spots. i’m up for whatever.”
nari’s couch felt like a second home at this point. years into a friendship that had solidified through both their desire to be together but do their own thing, daeho didn’t even think twice about setting up at nari’s: he brought his laptop and plugged in the charger he’d left at hers two years ago, pulled his feet up underneath himself and started working away at whatever project he’d picked up most recently. nari put on music sometimes. and then - hours later - daeho would leave to go downstairs and fall into his own bed, only to climb back up once boredom hit.
“whatever’s good,” he tells her, but he stretches out to grab the menu anyway. it’s the little thai spot daeho’s fairly sure he got a great red curry at last time, but he’s not sure he isn’t confusing it with the other one halfway across the city they’d tried a few months ago. he takes a moment to look through the other options, discards the burger place that had messed up their order and a few of the others that he can’t recall ever giving a try. after last time, he wants to play it safe. just to make sure they don’t have two bad experiences in a row. “i think either that one or we just do pizza.” they’ve been loyal to the same italian restaurant for years now, partly because daeho’s scared the woman in charge will hunt them down if they aren’t. in fairness, she makes a mean calzone. “if you wanna go out i have to go down and get dressed.” grab shoes and a jacket is what he means, because he doesn’t really care about anyone seeing him in sweatpants.
it's a small world @usb4 oct 31, 2024 / in the maze
he's absolutely too tired for this.
dumb. dumb. dumb. dumb idea to agree to a maze in the dark. dumb idea to say you're going to take the lead in the group of your friends because you could navigate a burning building blindfolded. dumb idea because your friends are not trained to navigate networks of unfamiliar paths and being able to easily self-orient. dumb idea because now you're the one that's separated from the rest of your group. dumb. dumb. dumb.
(way to go, lieutenant, thought this was your full time job?)
it's not a matter of callum being lost now, no — even with the trick mirrors and smoke screens and the dimly lit halls of the re-purposed warehouse turned house of horrors — it's a matter of he is very much separated from his group, and therefore, everyone else must is lost and likely very far behind. at this point, everyone has probably been scattered.
after ten or so minutes of trying three different paths he'd committed to memory with no avail, he decides to wait. not something a firefighter would actually be trained to do in an active fire, but aside from trying to increase his chances of encountering someone from his group staying still, the cheap polyester from his costume nic had spent days convincing him of was becoming all but comfortable under his slacks and dress shirt. again, unnecessary layers — another thing he was not trained to wear. he was never letting him talk him into wearing a costume ever again.
now fifteen minutes into losing his group and growing antsy from wanting to leave, callum decides to wander a few more turns. he makes a deal with himself that if he doesn't run into any friends in the next five minutes that he'd find his way out alone.
suddenly there's immediate impact against another body around a dark turn that catches callum off guard and stammers backwards. "shit, sorry — my bad," he recoils almost immediately from the brute force and reaches out forward to the outline of the figure almost to help stabilize their own posture. he puts a hand on the silhouette when he sees the outline of a man, offering a quick "you good?" before the face registers. "oh, damn, daeho. sorry, man. i shouldn't have taken the corner so sharp."
callum doesn't know too much about the male who funny enough shares the same wall he does back at home, but from what he's gathered about his neighbor thus far, he seems like the kind of guy who knows how to navigate a maze well. at least, that's how he would come across to a firefighter who clearly has failed his own mission. "hey, you didn't happen to run into anybody who said they got separated from their friend, did you?"
daeho’s not even sure how he’s ended up in this situation.
it had started when a few of his coworkers from illusion had pitched the idea of a group outing at the carnival. all of them like to celebrate, the dark at night, most enjoy the season as a whole. they’d had food, a drink or two. one of the girls had brought a flask filled with homemade spiced whiskey they’d shared, not enough of it to go around for anyone to get more than buzzed but definitely enough for daeho to have a good time.
and then there’d been the dare. daeho doesn’t get creeped out easily - he watches bad horror movies for fun sometimes, in the dark in bed - but the friend he’d been with had, turning around after the second corner to hurry back towards the exit. daeho could’ve gone with him, but the maze is well-decorated. he likes exploration. and, more importantly: he’d wasted money on this he’s not willing to throw out the window this easily.
so he spends the next few minutes poking at props, laughing when he hears screams in the distance and trying not to scare himself into startling. it is, admittedly, less easy when you’re in the middle of it all and know you’re by yourself. after the third zombie jumping out at him he takes a moment to gather himself, leans against the wall and stares at the huge spider head hanging down opposite him. if he were a head taller, he could probably get his hair tangled up in the fake webbing.
maybe it’s because he’s engrossed in looking or maybe because the soft padding they’ve put on the ground muffles sound so well, but daeho jumps when someone walks right into him, a bit wide-eyed as he turns towards the guy - and realises it’s just callum, who’s reaching out to steady him. “dude, you scared me. what the hell, i thought there was nobody in this section.”
he takes a moment to gather himself, glad he didn’t scream or anything equally embarrassing. maybe the booze has made him a little less alert to his surroundings after all. “uh, no, but there were two girls like five minutes ago that were looking around a lot. might’ve been the decor though.” he studies callum in his costume. daeho’s not even really dressed up tonight; he’d thrown on the cloak he’d gotten for the monster mash bash and called it a day. “why, you lost?”
——— just outside the entrance to the building, nic takes one last long pull from his cigarette before snubbing it out against the bottom of his shoe and tossing it in the trash. "that also sounds miserable," nic says, pushing the door open and holding it out of the way for daeho. nic doesn't consider himself an early bird by any means, but there's something about the darkness blanketing him when he goes to sleep that can't be replaced by the soft glow of the morning light.
nic puffs out a breath of hot air as he moves towards the elevators and says, "okay, bet. i'll give you a fight." even though he knows damn well all the fight is gonna leave his body once he starts to feel like he's floating. "listen, stop being right so loudly, it hurts my ego," he says, pouty and good-natured. he really is record-breakingly bad at smash.
they both ash their cigarettes, which is a bit of a waste - daeho hadn’t even gone through half of his - but probably for the better. it’s sort of weird he’s been smoking this much for years now and isn’t feeling any of the consequences yet. “i dunno, i think i could do it.” sleep through midday, that is. not the baking. it’d probably be inconvenient though - when would he do any of his shopping on that sort of schedule? “you just gotta invest in good curtains. and i guess it’d destroy all semblance of a social life.”
it’s only when they’re inside in building that daeho realises that he feels gross, the way he always does after a shift. it’s the heat of illusion, the sweat of it sticking to him; he’d spilled something on his pants earlier, too. “we can play something you’re better at after, how’s that for a compromise?” they step on the lift; daeho punches in his own floor. “man, i gotta get changed, you don’t want the club on your couch. i’ll be there in five?”
› growing together with @usb4 . . . 🌱
the nightclub is filled to the brim - the ground vibrating from the pulsating beats, different colored lights shifting all over the dancefloor as the weekend crowd begins to pile in and the dj works on spinning the hottest tracks. everyone seems to be mingling with one another, laughing and shouting over the music, swaying in small groups to the music. but danbi looks a little out of place among them - dressed in clothes she's not necessarily comfortable with, wearing shoes a little too high and clunky for her liking, and holding two drinks in her hands that are not her own.
she blinks, feeling a little disoriented with how she's gotten herself into this situation. after all, when the other girls working the customer service desk at fresh fields kept raving about how fun it would be for them to spend time together outside of work . . . well, she didn't think that would be at a club. and she didn't think that they would have handed their drinks off to her the second a group approached them to dance, calling over their shoulders for her to watch them. but danbi didn't want to be a wet blanket, and she didn't want to deter the others from having fun, so she simply nodded and flashed them a smile as they disappeared into the crowd.
"oh, i'm sorry," she says instinctively when someone bumps into her on their way to the dance floor, them looking at her a little oddly as she just stands there at the entrance of it. she takes a step back, nearly knocking into someone else in the process. "oh, sorry!" she's quick to apologize again, turning and deciding it's probably best for her to get out of the way. her orbs scan the club for a safe space to stand before settling on the bar up ahead, the corner of it unoccupied and with little traffic.
"phew," she lets out a soft sigh once she reaches her destination, placing the two drinks up on the bar top. she fishes around in her clutch for her cell phone, quickly checking the time. 9:56pm. she had a feeling it was going to be a bit of a long night.
it’s a busy night, as most fridays are. daeho’s working the full shift, which means he’s still gearing up for the real crowd later: prepping what he can in his downtime, chatting with a colleague in the backroom for their five minutes of break. despite the noise threatening to destroy his hearing sometime down the line, he likes the job and the energy of the club. something about it clicks with him, but perhaps it’s just the lifestyle of it all. late hours, human interaction that isn’t centered around himself all that often. free drinks, sometimes.
when he spots the new girl it’s immediately obvious she isn’t in her element. daeho’s seen her around lately - carrying her groceries up the stairs and the trash down, making herself at home down the hallway. he doesn’t know her name yet, but she seems a little skittish. or perhaps she’s like daeho, who likes to keep to himself, not out of a lack of confidence but because of antisocial tendencies.
for a moment, he keeps busy. slides the shots over the counter that some college student had ordered, tops vodka with coke. but then there’s a lull and he’s free to take pity on her - so he does, turning towards the corner she’s perched in.
“hey, we know each other, right?” daeho knows he isn’t mistaken - he’s good with faces - but if she’d rather stay a stranger he’ll give her the easy out. nothing worse than someone insisting on engaging you in small talk when you’re not in the mood for it, and she looks so uncomfortable in their surroundings that daeho’s willing to bet she’s thinking about her couch, or whatever else she’d like to get up to at home. he can’t blame her: within the hour he’s going to start looking forward to his apartment, too.
“do you want anything to drink? i could make you something more fun than that.” he’s gesturing at the drinks she’s guarding. since she hasn’t touched them they’re probably not her own.
insu
once he was sure daeho was good to go he pat the dash of his car gently as if she was a baby. "alright melissa, let's take it nice and easy today. don't be too feisty and scare our guest," he cooed at it and then leant back, easily taking the wheel in one hand and peering over to daeho as he finally switched gears and pulled out the parking lot. "so explain the whole package situation to me again. what, did they just not deliver it or something? or just couldn't get their head outta their asses long enough to find your apartment?"
he’d never been inside insu’s car before.
it almost felt wrong that he hadn’t, now that daeho was thinking about it. of course he’d known about the car, and he’d seen it, and he knew that insu loved it like daeho assumed some men did their firstborn children. but even though they’d known each other for years now it’d never happened, like daeho had been missing some key part of insu that he was only now able to fit into the puzzle.
he almost laughed when he spotted the playboy bunny hanging off the mirror. instead of making a fool of himself, he tapped against it - it swung back - and tipped his head to the side to grin at insu. “i didn’t even know they still make these. the more you know.” there was something nagging at the edge of his consciousness, like some long-buried memory that he couldn’t grasp at. as always when this happened, daeho let it go.
even for a man who didn’t know anything about cars it was apparent that plenty of money had been spent on melissa’s care. daeho buckled in and made himself comfortable, reaching over to fiddle with the radio. the station insu had tuned into was bearable, so he didn’t fuck with his settings.
“it’s so fucking annoying, you don’t even want to know. the tracking said it was going to get here on monday, right? and i was off on monday, so that’s perfect timing.” experience had taught him that the delivery guys would drop by in the afternoon too, past the time when daeho finally dragged himself out of bed. “i’m thinking okay, cool, i’ll just hang out. but then the guy never even rings the doorbell. and it’s like - i know they’re busy, right? i get it. could’ve tried again on tuesday, whatever.” insu was, admittedly, a good driver. “except then when i call they tell me i wasn’t home, which is bullshit, and i need to pick it up at the other end of the city. ‘cause they need me to sign for it, it’s insured.”
at which point he’d asked insu to drive him, because taking the train would’ve cost him twice the annoyance and time.
——— nic isn't particularly fond of the way cigarettes smell, but he finds comfort in the routine of lighting one up, letting the nicotine burn its way down to his lungs and warm him from the inside out. kind of like alcohol when he really thinks about it, but he's really seeking out the proverbial weighted blanket that is smoking a nice joint.
"some people are masochists too," nic quips, blowing a puff of smoke up into the air to linger behind them as their pace stays steady. "i think i'd rather drink bleach than wake up this early."
the apartment building looms in the distance as nic kicks at a pebble on the sidewalk that was unfortunate enough to be in his path. "absolutely not," nic starts at the mention of smash bros. "i'm kicking your ass." truthfully, nic probably will get his ass handed to him in the game, but he can't just roll over and admit defeat before he's even in his own home. "but you gotta let me have that little yellow thing."
“could also just stay up that long. go to bed around midday.” daeho’s just saying it to say something; the truth is, he agrees with nic. working a job that would have him getting up in the middle of the night instead of going to sleep in the early morning would never work for him, night owl that he is. daeho’s not gone to bed early in years, unless you count his own definition of early - around midnight, after an all-nighter.
they’re so close to home that daeho takes another long drag from his cancer stick. he doesn’t like bringing it inside and the way the smell sticks to absolutely everything, so he’d rather ash the remains when they enter. “i’d love to see you try, nic. for real. you gonna put up a fight this time?” his grin is a little sharp, but he means well. bumps his shoulder into nic’s, too, for good measure. “you can have whatever you want, once you’re high it’s over anyway.”
daeho isn’t even that good at smash bros. it’s just that most people are worse.
@recklessromance
there’s a routine he’s been falling into lately, ever since yijung’s taken up her spot behind the counter of the café. on friday mornings like this, their shifts coincide: when daeho gets off work and passes by the place she’ll be standing there blinking sleep out of her eyes. and yeah, maybe he thinks the coffee’s overpriced, but it’s not like he’s ordering off the menu - and yijung charges him for americanos, admittedly less than what the ingredients would be worth even if he made his drinks at home.
there’s a chime that rings as he steps through the door. daeho’s appearance clashes with the decor: styled hair, all black clothes, the look of a man who hasn’t slept in a day. it takes him a moment to dig his wallet out of his pocket, and when he does his eyes catch on the orange of yijung’s shirt, the pumpkin-adjacent getup she’s been sporting for weeks now. just three more days, then they might start bringing out seasonal santa hats. he hasn’t said it to her, but the colour really doesn’t suit her all that well - or maybe it’s just that his eyes are tired after the night, even with the glasses he’s wearing now that he’s clocked out.
“morning”, he greets, leans his hip against the counter. daeho’s really looking forward to get off his feet sometime soon. “i’ll have the usual. sleep well, yijung?”
——— nic takes the offered cigarette with a mumbled, "thanks," as he pulls out his own lighter to cup around his face and strike until the cherry glows a dull orange. he coughs through a drag as he register's daeho's words, and squawks, "threw out?" with his own hesitation, nic has been looking forward to living vicariously through the escapades of his newfound friends. "i mean, yeah, we're walking home to—eh, whatever." he doesn't ever recall being the poster child for healthy coping mechanisms so maybe not listening to nic is the best thing daeho could do.
"it is early though," nic comments, a suggestive lilt to his voice. not in the way that he's trying to flirt, instead offering: "i've got some weed at my place if you wanna smoke." that sounds like a perfectly fine night in, by nic's standards, if he's honest. even if he usually prefers to be out and about, he understands the comfort of hanging out at home and basking in a relaxed, hazy atmosphere.
the smoke feels good in his lungs, like some kind of fucked up hug that causes health conditions in other people, but not daeho - or so he’d like to think. daeho hums around the cigarette at nic’s exclamation, unwilling to expand too much on that particular thread of conversation. the girl had been cute, but it’s not like he’s going to remember her in another week. he’s got enough things to do not to add on that sort of back and forth texting.
“you know, some people get up around this time.” bakers, probably. people who work really early shifts with shitty commutes. arguably, it *is* early for a night out, and for daeho to be back on a saturday. he considers it: his bed is tempting, but it’s unlikely he’d manage to sleep now anyway. and nic’s been making for good company. also - free weed is free weed.
they turn a corner, close enough now that daeho can see the apartment building all the way down the street. “sure, let’s. i can kick your ass at smash too, if you want action.” he laughs at what’s a joke so half-assed it doesn’t even count as one.
