supervision.

[vigilantiae-blog]

My only computer literally exploded and I’m currently working only on a phone, which is a major pain in the ass, as you can probably imagine. I should be able to borrow something from a friend though, so hopefully I can write a few replies over the course of the next few days.

I’m sorry to everyone waiting, and I hope you didn’t forget me yet. ))

[vigilantiae-blog]

☺

Angst starters— Not accepting anymore☺: my muse finding yours on the side of the road, hours away from home

Driving down the empty road in the middle of the night, illuminated only by the lights of his own car, it felt a bit as if the darkness was swallowing him and he was only willingly moving further into it. A strange but powerful feeling that was, making his thoughts swim and eyes stare fearlessly and almost daringly into the nothingness ahead. With the agglomerations far away and hours too late for anyone to stumble by, Sangwoo wasn’t expecting to see anything but a few other cars passing by, the drivers anonymous to him and all with purposes as just as his own ones–purposes that he could not give a single care about, too wrapped up in his own misery of this day’s travel. It had been months since he had last visited his mother’s grave, and just as usual, the happening was a deeply moving and emotional one for him.

And yet, despite the feeling of being separated from reality and wandering more through the paths created by his own imagination, rather than actual, real world, he couldn’t help but notice the single car, pulled aside in this middle of nowhere. Although he passed it by rather quickly, not too keen on resigning from the glorious speed and the calming hum of his car that went along with it, Sangwoo managed to notice the brief light illuminating the inside of the vehicle, and the single shadow of a small frame, curled over in the driver’s seat and unmoving. With how fast the sight appeared and disappeared, and how tired the man was, the image could’ve as well been a mere mirage, product of his fantasy–but his consciousness made its way through that awareness, simply knowing better, and having him turn the car in a rather careless u-turn, speeding back to the bygone spot.

When he stopped by the car, his own one’s reflectors putting it right in the bright, nearly blinding spotlight, he couldn’t see the woman–and it had to be a woman, with her hair long and visible hand smooth and delicate–moving at all; not a jerk, not even a flinch, not a single reaction to what should have been an alarming situation to her. Sangwoo hesitated only for a moment before turning the engine off and pushing the door open, steps fast and steady as his legs carried him over, hand reaching up and knuckles knocking against the window that separated the only two people in the middle of nowhere. Such a fragile and breakable barrier it was, and yet felt like an entire indestructible wall of questions, and concern, and fear. 

[vigilantiae-blog]

SEND ME SYMBOLS FOR ANGST STARTERS;

☔: my muses reaction to opening their front door and seeing yours drenched in rain

⚡: how my muse calms yours in a lightening storm while they’re pulled over on the side of the road

☆: my muse comforting yours while they get a tattoo

☏: my muse’s reaction to getting a phone call from the hospital about your muse

☯: what my muse says to yours after they haven’t spoken for five hours since a fight

✿: my muse’s reaction to leaving a cut on your muse’s body

♒: my muse’s reaction to finding your muse bruised and beaten on their doorstep

⚈: my muse’s reaction to finding drugs in your muse’s handbag

✺: my muse protecting yours from a sleaze at the club

☠: my muse’s reaction to being told that your muse is missing, and presumed dead

☺: my muse finding yours on the side of the road, hours away from home

❋: the voicemail my muse leaves on your phone when your muse hasn’t been heard from for the fifth night this week

☕: my muse comforting yours after the death of a loved one

☉: my muse’s reaction to finding yours in a public bathroom, drugged and almost unconscious

[stvletto-blog]

█ 돌아와,

[stvletto-blog]

How handsome he was in his silent rage, how powerful in the cold, harsh tone–and yet, how vulnerable he seemed, eyes falling to her feet before they settled upon her face. It prompted an avalanche of emotions on her own, too; ranging from satisfaction and delight, through awe and admiration, to melancholic sadness of the past and what turned out to be impossible future of what-ifs. The man who had once kissed her goodnight, whom she pictured herself in family photos years to come – now acted as not much more than a hostile stranger, his voice like ice-cold needles puncturing her skin.

“Why are we bringing hell into this right away? Do I look like the devil to you?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head and amusement visibly seeping through, the actual joy of seeing him and talking to him overcoming any other feelings she might have had.

Red lips curling in a smile, one that was hiding multitude of meanings behind it, adorned her face slowly and in a calculated gesture, and like snake shifting in a position to catch its prey, she carefully approached him, the distance of a few steps becoming a mere breath separating the two. “I missed you, oppa,” Jihye said in an almost cooing voice, and her words were so very honest, even if she was nearly sure he would misunderstand and read something entirely different into them. 

“Can you really blame me for coming to see you?” She continued, eyes turning upwards to rest upon his handsome face, lithe hand soon following the suit, elegant fingers touching the highest point of his cheekbone and caressing it in an almost intimate touch. “You’re getting even more handsome with age, Sangwoo. I made a truly good choice, all those years ago.”

[vigilantiae-blog]

“Looks may be treacherous,” he said with care, words slow and leveled, and yet no in any way hesitant or unsure. Too much time he had once spent with her, too many situations had they both been involved in together, for him to have any more doubts about who she was, how she was--and how to deal with it. “It’s what’s beneath it all that matters.” The words sounded like a heavy judgment, and in a way, that’s exactly what they were; Sangwoo had all the reasons to make that kind of assessment and they both knew it.

And yet, despite the awareness, the ever so vivid memories, the hurt, and anger, and hatred still looming at the back of his head, the man couldn’t fully resist her charm. The pretty smile, the sweet scent of perfumes, the delicate hand against his face, the gesture endearing and affectionate, and so very familiar in those sentiments. He had once pictured them together, for years and years to come, in the visions of waking up in the same bed together, that same lithe hand pulling him back into the reality from his dreamland--the visions that went crashing and burning at some point, pushed off the cliff by none other but themselves and tumbling down in an avalanche until nothing was left of it. Of them.

“You might have conveniently forgotten, but some of the last choices regarding myself that you had made, had nothing to do with my good looks,” he cut through her flattery mostly unaffected, acknowledging it but not yielding to it. He was too old for those games, too experienced and too aware of what was standing behind them. “What are you doing here, Jihye?” He repeated with the same insistence, reaching up to catch her hand--strong fingers curling around her elegant wrist, pulling it away from his face gently but firmly, and letting it fall away from him. 

“If this meeting was about me, you would have come to my place or office. And yet you’re here, following me into places that shouldn’t concern you,” his voice carried noted that hinted at his control slipping, slowly but definitely, and he hated to realize it--and even worse, not being able to do anything about it. “Unless they do, and this is exactly the purpose of--this.” He almost spat the last word, gesturing to her entire silhouette and their surroundings with a wide gesture of an arm and a scowl on his face. 

[vvicious-deactivated20151202]

( ` &: starter for @vigilantiae )

Not even sure as to where and how she was able to get herself quite acquainted with the man, she grew accustomed to his beliefs and open mindedness. The way he spoke was always something of respect and knowing how highly she thought of him, she knew not to disrespect him in anyway. Though she wouldn’t agree with some of the terms he had spoken about in his life, she was still listening to him: like a student to a teacher. She looked up to him, not because he was wise, but because he was a retired NIS investigator now private detective. Alynn Paek was a model whose looks deceived the crowd when she told the public that she was interested in politics, science, and math; excelling in all things subject to be taught in school, she knew that with this cover of hers, she could do just about everything. Which was why she found Seo Sangwoo so admiring to be. She was first interested in just having a small chat with him on how he was successful in his field and then it became to be more of a respect for each other as she got to know of his running habits; which came to the subject of being a partner of running with him.

Closed fists rapped against the door to his abode as she gripped onto the fruit filled basket whilst her backpack was strapped neatly behind. She was supposed to have gone running with him the last two weeks but due to her schedule, she missed it and feeling guilty she came this week with an assortment of fruits just in case he would be upset. Knowing how much older and mature he was, she knew he wouldn’t be but because she had spent so much time with him, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing alright. I guess you could say that the more time Alynn spent with her, the more she looked up to him than a teacher of studies and instead, a mentor of life.

[vigilantiae-blog]

It was one of those acquaintances that Sangwoo wasn’t sure where it had come from and how exactly had it formed into what it was today. If someone told him to pinpoint the exact time and situation they had first met, all he could do would be to spread his arms in the most helpless way. But that wasn’t important and it didn’t bother the man in the least, having gone through many friendships--and other kind of relations--that didn’t have any exact beginning and, very often, their ending had been just as lucid and unspecified. The truth was, such details, even though appearing major in the outsider’s perspective, had absolutely no impact on how they evolved and looked like; it was the actual connection that held all the importance, the association woven with every interaction, making the relation special and one of a kind.

And it was just like that with them, no beginning and no potential ending in sight that either of them could’ve spotted at the moment; a young woman with the entire life ahead and a much older man with wisdom and experience the other might have lacked. In an odd and not very apparent way, they complemented each other, one filling in the blanks where the other has lacked. Giving and receiving, it was a mutual transaction, based on respect and nearly selfless need to help; Sangwoo was more than glad to offer the female the support that she needed, knowing fully well that he would get that just right back. “Is someone sick?” He asked almost right away upon seeing Alynn, the words preceded only by a quick scan of her entire silhouette, watchful eyes noticing the fruit basket of quite enormous sizes and immediately making an instinctive connection to the first thing that his brain has suggested. “I mean, this is one neat basket you got there, but I’m alright,” the man continued, a small smile playing around at just the corners of his lips as he took a step back and spread his arms to the side, as if showing her that, indeed, all his limbs were intact and nothing had happened since the last time they had seen each other. Which was, admittedly, quite a while back, but he didn’t mind. They both tended to get busy. “Unless someone really is sick and you’re on your way there--in that case, this joke was really inappropriate. Is everything fine? Do you need a ride?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly as a sudden worry overcame him. She seemed oddly silent.

[vvicious-deactivated20151202]

TRYING TO RECONNECT WITH AN RPER

Can you guys kindly reblog this? I’m trying to reconnect with an old rper that i’ve gotten quite close with and lost connection during switch of muses and then leaving the krp land for a while. I can’t seem to find where she is now but she used to rp @mcfxst and according to one source that i’ve tried to reach to said that she  had left roleplaying for good but i just want to try this if she’s still around or lurking or something of that matter so – if anyone know where I could find her, please please let me know because i’d really really like to reconnect with her. 

[vigilantiae-blog]

fiat justitia ruat caelum。

[queensgambiit]

It wasn’t without hesitance that Songyi had prolonged her stay at the bar. Each second passing, she seemed to be more inclined to speak to him even if every fibre of her and every damn sense that she still had was telling her to up and leave. There was no sense of recklessness in her actions, no, maybe not but there was an edge of carelessness for who she was. What Songyi was meant to be was a name on legal papers and a source to get things done – besides that, Songyi was to be nothing more than someone you pass on the street without any glances given. Impersonal and untraceable, every move and breath that she made was meant to make was only to benefit those around her – something of ‘Strangers on a Train’ playing over and over through her entire life. In short – personal choices and conversations were a foreign choice and path of action to the young woman but it wasn’t to say that she was not enjoying the passing conversation. There was almost a part that felt the slightest bit of sympathy for him seeing as she’d subjected him to the conversation with her being as deprived of decent human contact as a rat in a sewer. Lowering her head, a dry chuckle moving through her lips, “If something is given to you, it’s only polite to take it – only petty squabble and embarrassment has ever come from denial of such small things.” Selfish, it’s almost close to an unwarranted smirk, the movement her lips make as he spoke. If there was anything Songyi knew that she was, it was selfish – she took all she could get and she took what she wanted whether it was on offer or not (though, warranted, a habit picked up in her homeless youth). Having lived the better part of her civilised - as she put it – life doing the bidding of others, she had garnered enough impatience to be selfish and think of herself only all the time. “But by no means does that mean that one should be guilted into something they do not want to do simply because someone fronted a gift,” justification was as important to her as it was any person of the law – even her twisted, manipulated version of the law – but her mind wondered at what point would she run out of reasons for being what she was? Her biggest lie was convincing herself that she wasn’t devoid of morals – nothing she’d told police or clients alike had even come close. “I don’t seem unkind?” her eyebrow raised in comical disbelief, “Dear, has anyone ever told you that you have a rather questionable judge of character?” There was something in her tone that made it sound like a joke despite the truthful undertone of her speech, truthfully, she was in no position to be saying such words; there was no nerve or brain cell that could connect exactly who the man in front of her was either, strange for her but exciting.

Perhaps, however, she didn’t give herself enough credit for what she provided to the situation that she had found herself in. Her lack of personal skills were undoubtedly made up for socially in her skills as a grifter. No part of her went around with the intent of swindling the innocent or pushing deception but it had become second nature to her as she had developed into her second family. With a smile and a flick of a silver tongue, she was aware how to keep a conversation going for as long as she needed; something she had grown proud of over the years. From being a frail and weak child to the budding, sophisticated woman she was, it was not an entirely horrid transition given her circumstances – even if her weakness was only clouded by a cold and unemotional front. But pushing herself to converse with the man wasn’t as hard as she would have thought, no, it was as if he was any other person to trick to her, her words escaping as natural as the lies she had been taught to recite but paradoxically honest sayings. Her mind was convoluted, always trying to even acknowledge her own feelings to make her feel something but if anything her mind was a product of circumstance, and she knew many who were proud of such.

There was some difficultly in keeping her face straight, she found. While she was quick to focus on things, she was quick as a cricket to begin over-analysing and over-thinking every little move, getting lost in each individual thought as if it was its own endless forest. And occasionally, devoid of control, her expression regressed to one of directionless thought almost like a child seeing snow for the first time, completely blank in thought just to process everything. Taking a swift drink to bring her back down to Earth, she met his eyes with little difficultly, finding herself just looking at him before she shrugged, “If life felt like a straight path, everything falling into place without a cross or contradiction, I’d not hesitate to say that you’re not living a real life at all. Everyday contradictions are what keeps us on our toes – in-between is always a comfortable place to sit, is what I’m trying to say.” Drumming her nails against the marble of the bar, she mirrored the smile on his face, though hers reading less honest simply by her nature, “I have to imagine everyone indulges in a little arrogance now and then so yes, of course I enjoy people talking about me in a nice manner even if I can’t say I have if occur often, regardless I hold myself in high enough regard not to need such compliments.”

Songyi could only think to associate her own words with white noise. Long-time desensitised to the vast majority of conversation topics that weren’t pertaining to her success, she couldn’t even put a pin on the gibber that she was speaking even if it all came as natural to her as the changing of the seasons. There had to be a criminal like her in every crime family on the block; a liability behind intellect and charm, mind as broken and worn as any piece of rubbish and only moved by a personal debt. Frail and broken in the mind, she had ran a lot from her troubles but she could feel that one day she was going to give out and not be able to go any further. Poor excuse for a person, she would think frequently but she had never heard honest opposition.

At his words, Songyi followed his direction by taking a look around at the other bar patrons. While it was true that she was different from them, in attitude and appearance, she still didn’t find it good enough reasoning. Though, even she believed she was being too harsh on him – even if only slightly – a man with only honest intentions who had been nothing but kind to her didn’t deserve the type of questioning and mental contemplation that she reserved for her clients. Plus, he probably didn’t sign up for her bad attitude when he had entered the conversation so she only shrugged her dainty shoulders. “I tried my best to stay in a place where I wasn’t going to be noticed,” her hand moved to swirl the leftovers of her drink in her glass, speaking honestly, “Not that I do not appreciate your company, of course, simply that I hadn’t planned on coming out to find a companion.”

Intently, she listened to his words with an expression that read like such with only a small smile tugging up at the corner of her painted lips. Not wanting to share her motivation for celebration wasn’t personal to him even if he was such a stranger, her emotions were isolated to just about anyone; if sharing meant one was caring, then Songyi had to be as cold hearted as they got. Emotions and weakness feel into the same boat for her; both natural and unstoppable but both nothing to be proud of. “I’m assuming from that statement that you were thinking we’d meet again after this? That’s hopeful,” whatever game she was playing with her words was unneeded, she was well aware that she wouldn’t mind seeing him again – there was something about not being able to figure him completely out that made her tick – even if she wouldn’t say it. “It’s quite alright, you didn’t mean anything by it,” she reached out, placing her hand on the top of his, though making her best attempt not to make the touch awkward, in an action to make her words sound more sincere before retracting it. A question about him? she thought for a moment, too many wandering across her clustered mind. “What motivates you to get up in the morning; what do you do in the day that makes it seem worth it?” in contrast to his question about her, one that completely fit into the situation, she regressed onto a tangent. The only thing that she could draw back to was her earlier paranoia over his word choice but that was too specific – silly, even – but at least with what she asked she could work something out about who she was whether she was looking for an answer or not.

[vigilantiae-blog]

“I find it a bit amusing that politeness would be your first motive--and forced obligation, another,” he said with a tone of wonder, all things and situation aside, being truthful to his words; it was amusing him, to some extent. People were interesting to him, regardless of their criminal status, and he always liked analyzing them even a bit more than all his regular data. Humans were changing, their alignments shifting like a grass blades on the wind often without them even realizing it; they were all different, and so fascinating in those differences, their number bigger than that of all the flavors, and colors, and scents in the whole world. “For me, it’s more a simple appreciation of the small but good things in life that come my way. If the fate gives me coffee or a drink, I sure as hell will take it and enjoy it, for what it’s worth. It might not be much, but it’s often those minuscule things that tips the everyday’s scales on the positive side,” the man continued, and it was just as truthful as any other thing he had so far told her about his personality or views. It should feel odd, wrong, immoral--or at least uncomfortable, but it wasn’t, not really. Somewhere in the midst of investigation and a number suspicions, he was just a man seeking company, and it was exactly that side to him that made his credibility in the eyes of the other even possible at all. Right there and then, Sangwoo was an actor--but he was an actor who played the role of himself, being a crooked mirror image, but still undeniably him, the awareness keeping him sane and believable.

But it was a dangerous path, that one. The blurred lines and boundaries were the ones that had the most potential to catch him into its trap; the trap that was set for someone else, but in the end, might as well be his very own downfall, too.

The disbelief painting itself on her face and in the tone of her voice made him usher another short laugh, head bowing lightly downward as he took the moment to go over her words and come up with a natural reaction. A part of him wanted to tell her that no, quite the opposite, judging people’s character based on fragmentary information was a big part of his job; but another, the sane and calculated one, knew better than that. “Now, that’s not really the kind of thing you’d want to tell a newly met person, isn’t it? It’s like you want to deliberately discourage me here... Do you?” He asked while looking back up, gaze catching and hooking onto hers in a silent inquiry. Yes, his words were kept in that light-hearted, semi-playful tone, but the question was honest, issued by both Seo Sangwoo, the man at the bar seeking company, and Seo Sangwoo, the detective working on a case for KNPA. The first one wanted to know if his intuitive steps and social skills are getting him anywhere, while the other needed the least bit of clue as to whether his case is about to move forward with this kind of approach or if an adjustment is needed. Of course, he knew there was no way to receive a straightforward answer; Songyi was far too intelligent for it, both as a potential suspect and a private person, the kind of woman who goes to the bar and drinks her alcohol by herself. It would be a clue, perhaps a hint that was to be read in-between the lines, and his senses were keen, ready for everything but expecting nothing. “But even if,” he dragged on after a while, a smile pulling back on his lips without much effort at all. “I’m sure you already figured out that I’m not that easily discouraged. It will take a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

With his awareness being brought to their glasses--his own completely empty and abandoned, hers with a bit of liquid still on the bottom--he caught the attention of a bartender and with a swift flick of his hand, asked for a refill, thanking in a polite manner once the drinks were placed back on the counter, the alcohol as refined and pleasantly chilled as the they’d had previously. “But doesn’t the comfort of in-between get old, sometimes? Boring? I, for once, would like some excitement. Perhaps this is the reason why I ended up buying you a drink tonight,” he admitted with a soft chuckle, thumb pressing mindlessly to the cold glass and swiping along its edge. “It’s a good trait though, to be confident enough to not depend on others to boost you up--and yet, to still appreciate when it happens. That’s what the difference between confidence and conceit is all about, isn’t it?” Quirking an eyebrow, he threw her a playful look, the never-ending play of words on both of their sides greatly entertaining and desirable. “Ah, I see. I suppose your best just wasn’t enough in that case, then. Or I’m just good at finding people who decide to hide--I always excelled in the games of hide-and-seek as a kid, I have to admit,” he confessed with a laugh, and it was so amusing indeed, how true his words were but how well camouflaged under the pretense of his undercover motives; and she would never know--or at least he would try his best for that to not happen, a true challenge of his abilities and practical experience.

Taking a long drink, he was almost surprised how easy it was to separate himself--themselves--from the outside world, a small bubble of just him, and her, and their conversation, uninterrupted and not allowing any outer buzz inside. If the situation was any different, Sangwoo might have even saw it as a sign of some sorts. “Of course I’m hopeful. Even though hope is said to be the mother of naive... But in this case, I suppose I don’t mind the naivety, even if usually it’s a trait I’d look down at,” he admitted with a small sneer, finding it ironic how a criminal case made him go against his own personality so easily, even if it was just a tiny detail to be forgotten the day after. Perhaps it was just another proof of his dedication to work, and how the work made Sangwoo its slave all those years ago, tearing a part of him out and settling itself in its place, like a corrupted DNA cell that constantly infected the entire chain. The upsetting thoughts, although creating a silent and hidden rage inside of his head, were soon soothed in the most unexpected and unintentional manner; the soft and warm touch, originally fitting the course of their conversation, but to him, picking up a whole different meaning, tying itself to his inside turmoil rather than the politeness and manners they were expressing to each other. Another confusion, another level to this completely twisted and slightly immoral situation; but it wasn’t what Sangwoo’s attention laid in, focusing more on the mere gesture, its existence rather than meaning, going along with its being than analyzing the number of reasons and consequences. It was there, fleeting and making him think back to the minutes past when they introduced each other, the touch nearly the same, although somehow holding a tiny bit more familiarity, perhaps even comfort that made the happening possible in the first place.

Her question, it wasn’t something he might have expected--but then again, he tried to not expect anything at all. And it made him think, not about calculated words and gestures to reach his goal, to hide his intentions, to appeal to her as much as he could; but about the actual answer that he had not had prepared beforehand. In a way, the situation only made Sangwoo appreciate her even more--as a person, as that stranger woman in the bar--because while others might have resorted to easy albeit boring trivialities, she went deeper, on the paths that people who barely knew each other didn’t dare to turn. “What does the fact that I don’t know the answer right away say about me?” He asked, both because he as genuinely curious and to buy some time, the need to find out the answer pressing onto his consciousness. What made him tick? What kept him going? What was the purpose of his life? Looking at the big picture, for someone like Sangwoo, was difficult. His life had already taken so many turns, its goals and motivations changing, that he couldn’t just pinpoint one thing; and with his lifestyle, work and beliefs, focusing that impetus seemed almost impossible. “I think it’s not about what I do in the day, as much as what I would like to do. Even though it might be seen as a negative trait, I’m not afraid to admit that I’m a slave to my desires,” he started, his words slow and cautious, thoughts still forming as he spoke, making his reply a bit chaotic, last syllables drawn out and small pauses present in between the sentences. “I have plans. They are not specific, but just general thoughts of what I’d like to see happen to me, to my life; there are some goals, big and small, wishes that I either actively seek to fulfill or hope to come true at one point or another. I want things, and as I said, I have a persistent, maybe even stubborn nature, and admittedly I’m a bit selfish too--so those wants, the greed, is what makes me wake up, pushes me forward, gives me a reason to keep going even if I temporarily feel like giving up,” he answered with a final period at the end, a small, single line appearing in between his eyebrows as his own words, the train of thoughts and their deduction, was somewhat of a revelation to himself too. 

A victim of his work and desires, what a great excuse to be alive.

[vigilantiae-blog]

[ + ] Extremely hectic week but hoping to do some replies now and answer all the plotting messages I owe. I apologize for the wait.

[sojeons-blog]

                                     ❝ catch a falling star & put it in your pocket                                                        save it for a brand new day. ❞                                            daisy oh — twenty five — wedding planner                                                                  i.    ii.    iii.   iv.

                         ⊰ ｌｉｋｅ－ ｒｅｂｌｏｇ － ｆｏｌｌｏｗ  ⊱

[larmoyante]

Any emotion, if it is sincere, is involuntary.

Mark Twain

[stvletto-blog]

█ 돌아와,

Click. Click. Click.

Every step was accentuated by the soft sound made by the high heels, every next one a little quicker than the previous, but just as steady. It echoed in the relatively quiet neighborhood, gentle wind carrying it through the early night as Jihye marched on, eyes focused on her goal.

And her goal, oh, the goal. It was moving with just as much confidence but with way more caution, a manner which the female know all too well from even years and years before. Clad in an all black, formal and oh so professional attire, to an outsider the goal looked mysterious, unapproachable, but to Jihye, it was everything but. It tensed exactly in the moment she stood not even three long strides away from him, the well-built silhouette of a man–as handsome as ever–straightening up and alert of its surroundings like a prey that was being hunted.

Jihye did feel like a predator, indeed.

“What are you spying on, this time?” She asked, the question cutting straight through the night’s silence and hanging above their heads like a sentence of judgment ready to be made.

[vigilantiae-blog]

Another night, another uneventful attempt at acquiring any of the crucial information to fill in the blank spots of missing puzzles. Frustrated and annoyed, the cold night falling as if right on top his shoulders, Sangwoo backed away from the secluded neighborhood of middle-class homes and small blocks of flats, empty-handed and with a resolution to come up with a new plan already forming inside of his head. He was angry, yes; but he also knew better than to waste time on pointless emotions, when he might as well use it on something much more useful than that.

With the quiet murmur of the main roads somewhere in the distance, at first he didn’t even notice the clicking sound nor the steadily approaching presence that he should have, in all honesty, detected right away. Whether it’s because he was trained to do so and knew better than ignore such things, or because he had felt that specific kind of aura so many times before; it didn’t matter, the only important detail being that he had made yet another mistake of that day.

Paradoxically, his awareness registered the sound only when it stopped, his entire posture tensing in the midst of reaching for the handle of his car’s door. One second, two seconds, three seconds--the reaction time of the person behind him was quicker than his own, the voice outrunning anything he could have done and said himself.

Jihye.

Sangwoo didn’t have to turn around to be absolutely sure just who exactly stood behind him; and yet when he faced her, the sight still struck a nerve. Her voice, a mixture of something saccharine sweet and completely wicked, gave off the same vibe as her face -- pretty, glamorous and yet hiding the devil underneath the perfection of soft skin and red-tinted lips. Ever since their last meeting five years ago, the male had seen her plenty of times, thanks to her career as a public persona, but actually having her stand just a few steps away--breathing, looking at him, expecting an answer--was a whole another experience, one that pulled at something unknown deep within his mind and body.

“I’m going to use your favorite tactic and reply to your question with one of mine,” he said after a moment of silence, the words bouncing between them like a ball of ping-pong, sounding much colder and harsher on his part than he might have intended. “What the hell are you doing here?”

[vigilantiae-blog]

high-in-flight:

She scuffed at his statement. It? Easy? Hyoseong could tell another thing about him in those words too. He was not used to woman who had the same sex drive and passion as him himself. Hyoseong wondered then if she should follow what the sensible girl would do and walk away, or rebel from the norms of a feminist and play to his standard of easy. She chose neither as she pulled her hair to the side.  “Easy?” Hyoseong asked the male furrowing her brows in a playful manner. “I was just giving you the chance,” Hyoseong stated to him before looking to her friends waving to them. 

His words echoed out smoothly in their cliche way, that made her smile a bit and turn back to him. “I think it would be very ungentleman like,” she played along before she took his arm and smiled. “But who needs a gentleman anyway,” Hyoseong added before she looked to her phone. 11:03pm. “Let’s go somewhere,” she told him with nod. Hyoseong had something in mind for him.

He watched her for a moment in silence, the way she handled herself and talked to him; he lived through and saw enough to know that kind of people--women--and although he strongly believed in everyone being different and being able to surprise with many things, he had a feeling as to what he might expect, what sort of person the newly met female was. It was always a guessing game of assumptions where nothing was sure and he liked it, liked the thrill and the revelations it usually brought in the end. “And all I really do, is appreciate the chance,” he countered her words with ease, deciding to not think about it any longer. 

Letting her hold onto his arm, Sangwoo guided them through the bar and towards its exit, a smooth chuckle slipping past his lips. “Is gentleman’s attitude not desirable anymore? Ah. I need to get with the times, it seems,” he retorted playfully, taking in a deep breath once they stepped outside, the fresh air a much needed change from the heavy atmosphere from behind the doors. He glanced to the side at Hyoseong, catching the sight of her phone and its time. “Is the somewhere a specific place in your mind, or are you leaving it up to me?”

[justanotherrpmeme]

bold which habits your muse has

[vigilantiae-blog]

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back or their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders

[sojisub-blog]

[vigilantiae-blog]

fiat justitia ruat caelum。

[queensgambiit]

For a moment, it seemed as if the bar had gone quiet except from the two of them together at the barstools. More so, it was just her own mind isolating the two from the company around them. She listened to the warm and inviting sound of his laugh as it drowned out the obnoxious background laughter that had been ringing a ghastly tune in her ears. The very concept of simply sitting and speaking to a stranger, either without any ulterior motive, was almost foreign to her but she was enjoying herself; her over-clouded mind was starting to clear of mist. Dear lord, if a sane Songyi could hear her thoughts, she would have passed judgement but the young woman, mind older than her time would have ever allowed her, was nothing more than a product of her harsh past.

Smooth as silk, Songyi thought as listened to the man’s warm vocal tone. Analytical as her mind may have been, she did spend a fair share of time trying to work out strangers from the moment that their eyes met but a part of that was dampened, or more so, she wasn’t quite sure if she had the older man completely figured out, or more so if she had anything figured out about the man bar his intelligent choice of words, or if he were simply as he looked; a kind man at the bar, interested in her. “A drink to me says there’s still something positive to take out of the interaction even if there’s no interest in the person that sent it my way,” with that she raised the half-empty glass to her rosy lips and sipped the aged liquid with an airy smile, “If that was the case for you, however, I wouldn’t have come over.” With a gentle click, she placed the glass back onto the bar’s countertop, her eyes glancing his way as he spoke, “I’ll consider it a success on your part too – many others have failed at what’ve you’ve done but it’s no real conquest or a success for one to take pride in, however,” she chuckled, her voice dry from the burning in her throat due to the alcohol but pleasantly inviting.

Her family had once laughed at the appearance of her fleeting smile, joking about how it was such an usual (and to quote her brother “ungodly”) sight to see on such an apparently evil woman. Songyi never truly believed herself to be morally terrible, she had done bad things and she knew that but her heart was never in those things as much as her head that been – surviving was all that had matter to her when she started out and it was still only what motivated many of her questionable actions. From her view, she was not wicked or was she noble, not a saint or a sinner but an enigma of confusion and catastrophe all in one woman.

A thin finger pushing back her dark fringe behind her ear, she gently swirled the golden beverage within her glass. “If I were you, I’d settle somewhere between flattered and insulted,” a teasing smile set on her lips, “If you’re taking it as a compliment because of those factors then I have no choice but to agree; handsome, I will not lie, and intelligent, from what it seems through my eyes.” Parted lips and raised eyebrows, she let out a hearty chuckle, “I guess in that aspect you’re a failure to bar-lurking casanovas everywhere but by no means does that mean you’re a failure from my perspective.” As if there was an invisible string, as he leaned in to speak, she mirrored his movements but furrowed her eyebrows, somewhat perplexed as he continued to speak.

There was something about the nature of his final words that rang in her ears, over and over, as if to tell her brain that something sounded…odd while not necessarily wrong, it was off-putting to her mind that was still edging off the previous weeks’ paranoia. ‘I’m refuting your suspicion’ his choice of words sounded like ones she would have used at work, something by the books of the law to prove someone wrong – it was such a statement of justice – that could only bring her unrest. She’d heard the words around police precincts and law offices alike giving her the idea of him being someone she should not have been speaking with but she digressed, only blaming her quick-thoughts on her past month being a mental shamble. With the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was just what she’d registered him as already; a well-read, intelligent man. That was it, that was all it was, she took in a sharp breath as she thought.

Listening to his question to her, Songyi’s mind race began to race with different ways to answer. It was very rarely that she straight out told the truth about anything that had stemmed from her private life and even then, it was most likely buried in such a web of lies that whether it was honesty or a ploy was questioned. Besides, saying that she was drinking to celebrate the long passed death of her father wouldn’t fly with the general public – she was sure that Sangwoo was no different. After too long a silence had passed between his question and her answer, she instead questioned him, “You thought I was waiting for someone? It’s been a fair while since I arrived, how long exactly did you watch me?” Her curiosity and judging nature had taken over in that moment but after taking a rather large sip from her drink, she met his eyes and answered, “It’s a bit personal, not that I mind you asking,” it was more than a bit personal but she held her tongue, “Maybe we can just say I’m celebrating a past change that I’m still grateful enough for to celebrate to the day, if that satisfies your curiosity?”

[vigilantiae-blog]

It seemed as if her every word and every gesture could have been understood in at least three different ways, everything up to interpretation and not much hint provided to help with judging which is the correct one. To Sangwoo, the more time he talked to her, the more enigmatic she was becoming; paradoxically, the closer he is, the less he knows, and just in this moment, he knew that none of this will be quick or easy. “Well, that,” he chuckled lightly, head shaking a bit in a silent expression of amusement to her voiced observation that could have been either a joke, or a one of the negative comments you would toss towards an unwanted company. “Is definitely a way to look at it, too. A bit materialistic and perhaps a bit selfish, I’d say... But a way nonetheless. After all, the drink had been offered, so even if a person decided to enjoy only that part of the situation, it’s a choice as fair as any other,” Sangwoo agreed easily, not letting any doubts or questions hold him back, typically never being someone who allowed their self-confidence waver under the impression of another person. “But is that really not a conquest at all? I believe it depends on the person and what exactly is considered a challenge by them, what satisfies their sense of pride. For me, this is a small success and I would like to treat it as such. Don’t take that little bit of happiness away from me, will you? It would be really unkind-and you don’t seem like an unkind person, to me,” his eyes squinted slightly as his head tipped backwards together with the glass, the bigger than previous ones gulp of alcohol easily sliding down his throat and physically burning, in a way that was both painful, pleasant and felt like a wake-up call that he didn’t really need. He was very much aware of where he was and what he was doing; perhaps more than he actually wished to be.

With the now empty glass taking its place back on the smooth marble of the counter-top, the tip of his tongue swiped the last bits of the beverage’s taste off his lips in a quick, impulsive movement, mouth quirking at the corners not soon after upon her words. Although distant and with a constantly cool aura around herself, the woman knew how to talk to people--whether through instincts or practice--how to keep the conversation going, make it entertaining and use the right amount of wits in its key moments. Sangwoo couldn’t help but analyze it and wonder; because although from the outside she seemed like many other women out there, there had to be something about her that made her special. Different. Worth suspicions and being pointed out by a criminal without any further explanation. Talking to her and finding himself enjoying the moment, the irrational part of Sangwoo’s mind almost wished she was nobody, the kind of person he didn’t need to evaluate every minute and every second of their interaction, didn’t need to feel guilty about finding amusement in interacting with; but the other, much bigger part of his brain, the one that he was in full control of, knew better--focus and don’t let the emotions take over, it said, and it reminded him of all the years he had spent as NIS agent, the mantra of its every employee, who pushed over the edge, threw away majority of things that made them human.

He had to try really hard to not let the sudden thoughts and flashbacks to the past to show on the outside, forcing his consciousness to focus on the here-and-now, and not irrelevant details hidden and tucked away in the very back of his mind (but maybe--apparently--not far enough). “Strangely enough, the in-between seems to be a place that I’m very frequently settling myself at. Very often, my life feels like a bunch of contradictions as such,” he said without difficulty or unnecessary weight to his words. “And even though I have provoked it myself, I’m still going to accept the impromptu compliment. Whether it’s seen as cocky and obnoxious or not, I like people thinking--and talking--about me in a nice manner. Do you?” Sangwoo asked, head cocking just slightly to the side. “Because I’m not sure if, when I get inspired, I can freely express my flattery, or should I keep it to myself--which will be a struggle, but I can manage just fine.” He finished with a sort of a teasing smile, slightly crooked on his lips and yet completely honest, one of the many he shows to people day by day, with no bad intentions hidden behind it.

When Songyi’s expression changes--just briefly, in a way that would have probably go unnoticed if it was for anyone who wasn’t used to analyzing every little detail of another person--it raises Sangwoo’s awareness in a matter of split seconds. Of course, the reasons could be many and none of them even directly connected to him, but it was enough to alert him and retrack everything he had done and said so far, in search of anything wrong. But it was pointless, really; such reaction would make sense if he knew what he’s searching for and where to look, and as it was--dealing with a mostly unknown situation and a person who was a mere stranger, unwilling to bare anything about herself to him--his plan was like walking in a circle the size of a one small, cramped room. Absolutely fruitless and disruptive rather than helpful, mind -- from the lack of better information -- coming up with false clues, very much like the ones the KNPA detectives had presented to their bosses due to the fear of failure.

And Sangwoo wasn’t afraid to fail. Even though defeat was an option, he would not surrender to what was just a potential possibility of it.

Letting the observation go--the question of whether it was an actual happening or a projection of his hypersensitive senses unanswered--the male focused back on the things that were actually happening and obvious to his eyes and ears; like the fact that she didn’t outright reply to his inquiry. Although, once again, it was a feature matching with a suspect’s profile, it was also an attribute of a smart, careful woman and any normal, cautious human being. Even if leery, he had to give her the benefit of the doubt and move on, playing accordingly to the unspoken rules she set for them; after all, it was her hands that this evening was resting in. He could only adjust to it and bend enough to fit into her criteria. 

“A little bit,” he hummed after just a brief moment of hesitation, his final words neither a lie or absolute truth. He had come there just to watch her, after all, and now he could’ve as well lied about it entirely; but the man knew that was not the right way to go about it. As much as saying outright truth wasn’t an option, he couldn’t just lie either, because at some point, he would have risked losing his own mind in the labyrinth of mirages he had created, or--even worse--he strayed too far from what he should be doing, whom he should be projecting. It was a game of constant balance on the verge of; lies and truth, being himself and someone else, personal views and professional mindset. “Look around,” came the next words, and he did just that, eyes sliding all across the bar, the number of faces, both old and young, and mainly those of businessman enjoying their drinks after work, flashing in front of them. “You see, you’re standing out from this crowd quite a lot. It’s not very difficult for a pair of eyes to notice you, and probably even more problematic to look away. You can’t really blame me,” his shoulders shrugged lightly along with the confession, manifesting that it was not a big deal for him and words expressing hoped that it wasn’t for her, either.

When she finally decided to confide in him the bit of information regarding his previous question, he could easily see that the time that had passed was needed and the matter, regardless of whether voiced or not, real or fake, was not easy for her. In the end, he nodded to the revelation, his fingers caressing the smooth marble of the bar’s surface absentmindedly. “Does it satisfies my curiosity? Not really,” he said in the most straightforward manner, the calm and somewhat content, undisturbed expression still fixed upon his features. “But when I asked, I didn’t expect you to confide every detail of your life to a stranger. There is at least three more follow-up questions I could ask now, but I will just take your answer and remember it as a mean of motivation to, one day, perhaps, get to know more,” he said without breaking the eye contact, partly because he wanted her to know that he meant his words, and partly because--well, she had really nice eyes. In the midst of being a detective, investigator and an undercover agent, he was also a man who was able to see the things behind coded data and useful information; things that were trivial, normal, human. “I’m sorry if my inquiry was too personal, I didn’t intend on making you uncomfortable. If there is any prying question regarding myself on your mind, feel free to let it out--it’s the least we can do to even it out, isn’t it?”

[gjvnhee]

❝She was like the wilted flowers. Beautiful. Yet slowly dying.❞

She was a weapon no government would ever admit to own.        She was a shadow, swallowed up by the darkness of the world.                She was a woman who craved for the light that would never be given to her.                                                                                             ✦✦✦✦✦✦                                                                                    REBLOG/FOLLOW

[vigilantiae-blog]

[ ! ]

(( OOC; If I have to come up with one more plot for another ‘94 liner, I’m seriously going to fucking sit down on the floor and cry out of frustration. 

Honestly, I’d happily plot and write with more people, but there is only so much we can do if there is a 17 years of age difference between our muses. I prefer realism when it comes to slice-of-life roleplaying, therefore I refuse to act as if age doesn’t matter--because it does, and it will be an issue in the majority of casual rp situations that krpers choose to write about. 

I hope to not be seen as some kind of an elitist, but I probably won’t reach out to or volunteer to write starters for muses who are younger than 24-25 anymore; especially if they’re idols or students. Of course, my inbox is always open to any specific ideas, but I really don’t have it in myself to spend time and stretch my writing ethic to such extent. Not only it frustrates me when I can’t come up with any quality ideas, but it also affects negatively my muse altogether, making me realize time after time how difficult and tedious this roleplaying thing around here tends to be. And I really like my muse, I like the plots I’ve already established with people, and I don’t want to lose it because of my inspiration fading.

I do realize it was my choice to roleplay a 37 year old -- I knew what the consequences would be and I agreed to deal with them. If that means I will have less threads, then so be it. I’d honestly rather have a few good roleplay partners and serious plots that both parties work on, than a number of generic, casual and more or less pointless threads that do nothing to my inspiration and give no room for my muse’s personality and history development.

TLDR; 1) From now on, I will be focusing primarily on plotting and establishing serious connections for my muse. 2) Quality over quantity. 3) Interacting with younger muses [<24-25] only if you have a realistic idea for a plot.