synopsis: following his suggestion of working at kings, kid runs into ishani and manages to stumble his way into a late-night drinking game, finding himself already caught up in her alluring web by the time he remembers why he was there in the first place.
warnings: drinking, physical violence (pretty tame this time!)
a/n: part 1 if you so please :3 happy to have this up
with a heavy sigh and a bandaged hand swiping at stray hairs, 'bobby' exited the kings' kitchen for a breath of fresh air away from the bleach he'd been inhaling for the last 30 minutes, fingers tender and raw pulling at his collar as he stepped into the back alley. his watery-eyed vision met the white grout of the building next door and kid could finally smell something other than the burn in his sinuses — namely the sweltering garbage bin baked in the heat all day — almost closing his eyes entirely as he pressed a shoulder against the wall to support his tired muscles.
"hey,"
the soft yet abrupt voice emanating from his left nearly had him flinching back inside, brows narrowed and eyes wide as he found a familiar face staring back, though her abnormal clothing almost put them back at square one — strangers. to be fair though, they still were only strangers. right?
"funny seeing you here." ishani hummed, a knowing glow in her gaze as she shifted in her elegant but uncomfortable-looking gown. "i didn't know pimps wore aprons."
a joke. kid flashed the slightest glimpse of a smile as he took a step in her direction though his gaze pulled to his shoes, nose pointed down at the cement whilst he squeezed life back into his fingertips. "only the best." he replied. kid swore he could hear her smirk grow into a grin.
"oh, so the monkey thing is just moonlighting, huh?"
he meets her eyes once more to truly witness that smile before attempting to match her warmth. "actually...it's the grunt work;" he says, still starkly monotonous and solemn compared to her consistent and outward congeniality. now a step closer to press his back into the wall, kid pinches the thick strap of fabric over his shoulder with his good hand and forces his lips upwards. "the apron."
"i see...well, don't tell anyone but," she leans toward him in a strained whisper, "i'm doing the same."
there's a smile finding its way to his lips again, coming easier to him as he nods like a swear to secrecy. with his palm pressed to the wall and a suppressed grumble in his throat kid sits beside her on the concrete. "i didn't think i'd see you here."
"did i give you that impression?" her question sounds accusatory — it is accusatory — and yet he can't seem to find a hint of hostility in her tone, the imprint of a grin still lingering in the corners of her mouth. he's shaking his head before he even knows what to say.
"just thought i went about it wrong. i didn't expect to see you here so soon, at least. how'd you find queenie?"
"...literally? or...?"
still playful, ishani trails off to watch his split lips upturn once more before she actually answers his question, the echoes of 'why?' lingering in the back of his mind.
"yeah, she's — uh..." she taps her brow with two fingers in a lazy salute "major bitch."
"i have to agree with you there. it's kind of...admirable in a way, though."
"to be that much of a monster all the time and still have everyone bow down to you? i'm jealous."
"that, too."
kid can feel the lull in conversation looming above his head once she turns to mirror his position and, a man of few words, finds anything to say in an attempt to avoid the (typically comfortable) silence. "so..." he starts, finding the words along the way "how's the night been?"
with his own eyes on the brick and focus on his peripheral, kid notices the pause before her response, an atypical quirk in her mannerisms. even through the very minimal interactions they'd had, kid did not understand her to be someone with a buffering time before her response — she always knew what she was gonna say and did it in a far timelier manner than himself — so this delay in her reply had him holding his breath.
"honestly;" she starts off like a warning — as if to offer the opportunity for him to skip this dialogue — "harder than i expected. worse than expected."
kid has to clench his jaw to ground himself in his seat, to disregard the imagery of absolute chaos flittering around the foreground of his mind and focus on the now. it wasn't hard to guess what exactly she meant. the tired-looking man nodded and swallowed thickly to rid the lump in his throat.
"sorry." he didn't know what else to say — how to express some semblance of understanding or sympathy. he sounded almost like a guilty child.
"it's okay," ishani stands with a heavy sigh and a grumble as she swats the strangling locks of curly hair over her shoulders. "work is work. right?"
wet eyes angled up at her from his place against the brick, kid silently nods in agreement, watching how her kindred smile returned along with the enigmatic sparkle in her eyes while she moved toward the back door. she offers one last salute with her hand on the knob before disappearing back inside.
"i'll catch you in the ring, monkey man."
and that she did, of course; her floor-length gown traded for skintight spandex as she made her circles around the ring with her signature smile and that stupid sign. the beast was beaten bloody as per usual and, though he was always rigged to lose either way, ishani could have sworn he was more distracted tonight.
the thing was — while she was no fighter herself or anything — it wasn't hard to tell that he could fight. he knew how to throw a hefty right hook and he was quicker on his feet than most of the bulky hogan rip-offs, so he could win if ever given the chance. (not that tiger would even consider it.)
some nights ishani hoped — even believed — that the beastly kong would finally grow sick of being the losing dog and show rhino or khan or cobra a taste of their own pulverized medicine. but her faith was always in vain, always ending with the monkey man flat on his back spitting up thick, frothy blood through the mask.
ishani typically didn't dare follow after him to see the aftermath — not that she could, anyway, usually stuck at the ring to congratulate the false winner — but something about their previous conversation instilled her with confidence tonight. enough so, in fact, that she would find herself inching into the locker room to look for the battered man without half an idea of what she'd say.
he was sitting alone with his back turned when she entered, grime and sweat covering every inch of skin she could see, drenched curls shaking with each wince as he wrapped his hand. for a brief moment ishani contemplated turning back — totally disregarding the intrigue as well as the blood smeared along his forehead — and then she was diving in headfirst with the tap of her knuckles to the tile wall. the monkey man shot a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder before he realized who it was.
"sorry." she echoed his earlier sentiment, though (as usual) she had a little more to say while taking chary steps forward. "i don't always mean to scare you."
kid endured two more heaving breaths before offering his own flat-affected quip. "sometimes?"
sitting beside him on the metal bench with a restrained grin, ishani has to force her prying eyes from his hands, landing instead on the gash above his brow. "sometimes." she affirms with a teasing shrug.
"good to know..."
a beat passes before she's then clearing her throat, her own hands visibly trembling in the corner of his vision. it was the mousiest he'd ever seen her — uncharacteristic of this woman who'd literally stormed into his life — and though he'd tried to conceal the heap of bruises in his skin by keeping his head down, kid couldn't help but look up to analyze her uneasy features.
"um...you know...i still feel bad for kong. every time, honestly. i uh — i wanted to know — i was wondering — do you think a beer would soften the blow a little bit?"
even ishani looks wary of the proposition, looking away to shrug once more with a small voice. "maybe...tonight? on me?"
a mere glimpse of his bloody smile leaves the anxiety swirling in her chest as nothing more than a need for oxygen, lungs expanding to their full capacity while his creased features smoothed out all skepticism. he looks back down at the blood on his shoes and ishani swears she hears a low chuckle before he asks, "how does 12:30 sound?"
"sounds perfect." she has to remind herself not to appear too delighted.
looking at them now, not one person in this dingy bar would believe what they did for work — the absolute hell they endured all day just to end up at a dim booth in their 'regular people clothes' (as she called it) for a late night beer.
"i'm getting red — i can feel it."
"it's not bad."
they were already halfway through their plans, ishani's cheeks graduating from a warm pink to a full-fledged crimson as she met the midway point of her drink. "you're a liar" she'd chuckle before collecting the sweat on the glass in her palms to then press to the flushed skin.
kid hides his smile with another sip from his own mug. "it's your half now." he says, nodding towards hers before wiping the froth from his mustache.
"oh, come on, man! i still barely know you."
"i still don't know you at all."
with a proud smirk ishani slouches back in her seat, arms folded over her chest as if to protest the shift of power over to him. "you know my name" she suggests, noting how his eyes narrowed before realizing the tell of what her next question would've been — as well as the fact that she was technically wrong; he didn't know her name. he knew ishani.
"okay," the flush-faced woman relented "maybe not my name, per say..."
"chalo, i'll start out easy."
"unlike me?"
he chuckled. "unlike you." with a feigned sigh of surrender and another shift in her seat, ishani tucked away any stray hairs from the rats nest of a bun on her head and readied herself for the slew of questions (and answers) that would follow.
"alright." she hummed, "shoot."
he was the one to wiggle in the booth now, lifting his elbows from the table to mirror her distance before asking the first thing that came to mind — that is, the first thing in mind that was easy to answer; "where are you from?"
"korea." she stated plainly. kid's brows jumped in surprise at the distance. "oh. long way from home...what brings you to india?"
he can see the contemplating reflection in her eyes letting him know that this follow up was in fact not an easy follow up, nimble fingers raising to brush the already-tucked hair behind her ear. "just like you said; long way from home."
"i see. when did you get here?"
"india? or mumbai?"
you'd think he was still the one in the hot seat with how his mannerisms became asynchronous as he navigated which route to go, head shaking whilst he shrugged. "um — mumbai." ishani simply smiles.
"maybe...two weeks before i started at tigers? but i'd been in india for almost a month by then."
he nods now, pausing briefly with pursed lips before his following inquiry. "so...why'd you leave korea?"
there is a brief moment where ishani looks off to think about her answer with a telling grin — or grimace, he couldn't tell — before she's suddenly reaching for her mug to raise it towards him. "cheers" she replies before taking a sip. kid is chuckling again.
"enough said. well, how are you liking it here so far?"
"it's nice! it's certainly different from what i'm used to. and i guess every country's like this but — it's nice seeing all the land and cultures. — and the food, of course."
"do you have a favorite?"
finally, a question that ishani visibly wanted to answer, the corners of her mouth turning upward as she sifted through the choices on her tongue. "jalebi is pretty addicting, but i've had an issue with gulab jamun recently. i just can't stay away from it."
"oh, so you're a sweets person?"
his shoulders drop half an inch when she laughs. "that and — anything is good fried; i'd eat a rock if it was smothered in oil!"
with his own dry laugh caught under his breath like he still had to tiptoe around her, kid takes another gulp of the earthy beer to postpone the buffering time he and only he expended on finding what to say next. it was so strange to him — how the silence of life he'd grown close with felt so overwhelming when it came to ishani — and how she never seemed to shy away from saying something, even if it was the uncomfortable questions both parties knew would be left unanswered.
and yet, she asked anyway, leaving them both inebriated a lot quicker than if they hadn't decided on this drinking game. maybe it was a good thing, though; her intimidating boldness. perhaps if they'd just spoken like normal people kid wouldn't've had the guts to tell her about his childhood under the trees and, in turn, wouldn't have seen the way she leaned in to listen. perhaps, even, if they'd just spoken like normal people, it wouldn't have been apparent enough to notice that they were not 'normal people.'
but they did go this route — avoiding questions with a swig of beer, indirectly indicating each and every bit of information they withheld, making it evident to the other just how much they had to hide. and though he would've been offput by the ambiguity between them had the roles been reversed, ishani remained seated before him with an endearing and honest smile, red-faced and far more candid than ever outside the walls of their workplaces.
with the lick of his beer-slick lips and a leap of faith into her outward hospitality, kid sets his elbows back on the table to ask what he actually wanted to know. "so..." he starts slowly "what brought you to tiger's temple? i can't imagine that was your first choice."
"you're right; it was not my first choice, but i'm used to..." her nose scrunches while she searches for the words "biting the bullet, i guess. — plus, sex sells, and you needed a ring girl. it just kinda...worked out...in a way."
ishani's hesitant cadence almost sends him reeling back to the surface but the steadfast attention trained on his every word has kid's mouth moving before his brain. "so that's why you ended up going to kings? just another bullet to bite...in a way?" for a moment he's worried he'd said too much, and then ishani's mischievous giggle lures him back in.
"in a way. had i known about queenie i probably would've thought about it a little longer, though."
"understandable." he's letting his own laughter out now, tired eyes and smile panning to his glass. "i probably should've mentioned that."
ishani leans forward to grab her drink again and paused to answer before she took another sip. "it's alright, i can deal. i just don't understand how — how she's so angry alll the time. it can't be good for her blood pressure."
"i mean...aren't you?" it seemed like an easy question to him — it was an easy question for him, and yet she hesitated.
“honestly?”
there it was again — the warning for him to maybe interrupt her or stop her from saying something with substance — and just as he had before, kid only tuned in further.
“no.” she says quietly. “just tired.”
these would be the words that truly stuck with the monkey man well after their last goodbyes outside the bar — even more so than the 'maybe we can do this again sometime' offered by ishani before she turned to walk home — and he'd catch himself internally mulling over this response throughout the day whenever there was a breath of silence. whether he was drying dishes or tossing out the trash, kid thought about what this response said about her deep down — how all of her seen or unseen experiences led to fatigue instead of fury. and it baffled him.
it came to the point where kid finally noticed how much space she took up in his mind only after stepping into queenie's office to pour her tea, overhearing something about chief rana that brought him right back to reality. simply hearing the name of this man chilled his blood and effectively reinstated his fervor for the scheme bubbling inside that had his scarred hands subconsciously balling into fists. the consistent hum of ishani within his skull subsided shortly to make room for the actual reason he was here and by the time he thought of her again, kid was ready to do whatever he needed to get back on track. even if it meant clamming up on the new acquaintance.
and yet, in spite of his decision to lapse back into strangers, kid saw her once again while exiting the back door of kings to head to tigers. he was entirely prepared to give her the cold shoulder — to practice mercy and sever any ties he'd stumbled into, relieving her of the horrors to come — and then he saw how her face lit up once she spotted him. how cruel.
"hey" ishani smiled, striding closer with both hands in her hoodie pocket. kid has to look forward as to not get caught back in the loop.
"hey. today alright?"
"yeah..." her voice is high like she's unsure — like she's questioning her own response. "busy, but alright. what about you?"
he starts out carefully, reworking how he'd normally respond into a version that kept her at an arm's length, holding strong in his attempt to refocus on the end goal.
"uh...pretty much the same..."
he trails off, spending half a second to debate whether or not he'd tell her about the discussion with their coworker before making the fatal mistake of looking into her eyes — his white-knuckled resolve lost entirely once he found her gaze.
"have you met alphonso?"
ishani's eyebrows furrow together at the sudden shift in conversation, though she plays along. "no, i don't think so."
"good." kid sighs "alphonso works under queenie — short guy, s'got a limp — he'll be in the stands tonight."
"okay...why are you telling me this?"
for the first time between them thus far ishani is looking at kid suspiciously, visibly distrusting and aware of something being off despite not knowing what, exactly. it was almost frustrating to him, how he struggled to stay on guard around her — and even more frustrating how well she read him. he looked forward once more.
"just...keep an eye out for him. he's alright, just — don't be shocked if he comes up to you."
ishani was left acutely unsettled by this vague warning — especially considering the lack of explanation and increase of idiosyncrasies in the monkey man's demeanor — but without a prior reason to mistrust she had no choice other than to take it on the chin and keep her eyes peeled for the aforementioned 'alphonso.'
after entering the ring ishani spent the entire first round scouring every inch of the bleachers and making uncomfortable eye contact with patrons in the stand before she finally gave up on the guessing game. by the 3rd and final round, she had all but forgotten about the beastly kong's disclaimer in favor of looking away at the right time to miss his assault. the fight concluded without a hitch and by the time she began closing everything up, ishani was already basking in the relief of missing out on an uncomfortable conversation.
— and then, low and behold, ishani's eyes would catch on a man with a limp approaching while she wrapped up the chord to tiger's microphone. with a plastered-on smile and a bated breath ishani internally prepared herself for the worst and awaited his word.
"hello, madam." the curly-haired man grinned like he knew something she didn't.
"hello, sir. can i help you with something?"
he stops about a foot and a half in front of her with narrow eyes on her features and a never-ending grin, index finger raised to point at the ring girl. "you're ishani, right?"
"that i am. what can i do for you?"
"what is this?" he asks with a dry chuckle "you two masterminding some laundering scheme or something?"
ishani's head is tilting as she hears his question, a lone, incredulous "what?" being her immediate reply. he laughs again.
"you know — mister bobby."
bobby...there was a fighter here whose real name was bob, though he got pretty upset whenever someone called him that. ishani modestly shook her head as she set down the thick cord to instead place her hands on her hips. "no, doesn't ring a bell. sorry." honestly, she was just ready for the conversation to be over.
"the monkey?" he continues, and it only takes a second before she's put the pieces together and working up a response. "oh!" she exclaims with a giggle to postpone her explanation.
"i'm sorry, i'm not familiar with a lot of our fighters by name."
he nods with a laugh of his own, though she can't tell which part is particularly funny. "well, could you give him a message for me? tell him alphonso says 'it's a done deal.'"
"of course." ishani is clenching her jaw as she smiles, goosebumps raising the hair on her arms. "i'll let him know."
alphonso promptly presses his palms together in thanks before he turns to leave, dropping one last line that had heat rushing to her face while he walked away.
"thank you, miss seo."
she was turning on her heel to run into the locker rooms the second he was out of sight, surveilling the barren space with her heart in her throat only to find the monkey mask hanging on its usual locker door. with the only noise being the few other guys' hushed discussions and the echoed water from a faucet in the bathroom, ishani places her bets and rounds the corner with a clenched jaw, back pressing into the adjacent wall as she watched 'bobby' run his index along his molars before noticing her in the mirror. he's removing his finger from his mouth to spit a glob of blood into the porcelain as she clears her throat.
"so, alphonso came by." she says in a stern voice, the usual warm timbre found when she'd spoken with him up to this point gone and replaced with a tangible distance lodged between them. "said to tell bobby that his deal was done."
kid turns to face her as he leans against the sink and she swears his gaze held more weight, like he had to really concentrate to look her in the eyes. "he say anything else?"
she simply shrugs. "just if we were in on some laundering scheme or not..."
it was both a blessing and a curse that they read each other so well up till this point, both sides positively certain without a shadow of a doubt that the other had ulterior motives lurking below the surface. there is a moment of silence that leaves them suspended in limbo — both preparing their own play in wait for the other — before ishani takes it upon herself to speak again. since he wouldn't.
"i was thinking about getting a drink tonight. wanna come?" even her presentation was different, a cunning edge weaved into her words and tone. kid's not sure what to make of it.
"sorry, not tonight."
she nods with a pursed lip and her eyeline falls to her shoes. "i see. well, maybe some other time."
"yeah." he says, "we'll see."
and with that, ishani's got all she needs. she knows what he's doing as well as he does, and though it was frustrating and (naively) hurtful, who was she to make him be friends with her? were they even friends anyway? — whatever. didn't matter.
she doesn't even make an effort to respond before she's turning to leave him at the sink, jaw screwed tight as to disregard the burn in her nose or the prickling at her eyes. maybe it was just nice to know someone — to not feel entirely alone in this huge country with double the population — but she'd managed just fine all by herself, even now, so was it really a big deal?
'no.'
she decides when crawling into bed for the night, the blisters on her heels burning with every other shift and turn.
it wasn't a big deal, but it was nice while it lasted. — he was nice...
whatever. she just hoped she could avoid him the following workday.
(american politics under the cut so you’re not immediately subjected to torture)
not to be a debby downer or anything (and i also haven’t checked any tags here on tumblr bc ive been unwillingly forced to hear about how cooked america is rn on tik tok) but i feel absolutely compelled to say how terrified i am for this country rn. it has been on a downhill slope for a long while now but i guess ive just been disassociated up until this point bc i now kind of understand how absolutely fucked americans are.
from the electoral options being 65+ yr old white men who will not live to endure the hell they cause to the cult following behind a felon with his name on the epstein list being made into a martyr right before our eyes, i feel completely and entirely hopeless for not only america but for the world entirely. i am scared that we are approaching a reset button on the human race and i know that neither my vote nor my voice will matter. i am afraid of what is to come and i cannot believe that my first election will be the first shake towards the downfall of the united states. never have i felt patriotic for this country and never will i believe that this country was ever “for liberty and justice for all.” america has and always will be wealthy white mans land whose people are just another unwilling cog in the machine.
anyways. ha ha. 😫 how y’all feeling? any actual Adults™️ have words of wisdom for someone who thought they’d be dead by 16? how about a list of countries that love broke queer ppl?
if it's one thing your girl is great at it's making a million different google docs full of lists full of resources, ideas, etc that will help future me when it comes to posting fics.
fic titles are literally one of the biggest lists i have and not even in a perfect world where i write ten fics a day would i ever be able to use all of these, and i don't like to see things go to waste, and i know there's people out there that struggle with titles as much as i do. so i hope this list comes in handy for someone!
i don't think i need to say this but just in case: no one owns fic titles, anyone can use these, a dozen people or one or none. these are literally just words and letters. no one owns them. sharing is caring, enjoy lovies!
( HERE ) you will find an INCOMPLETE PACK ( #106 ) gifs of DEV PATEL as SAROO in LION. all gifs were made from scratch by me for roleplaying purposes, please like/reblog if you find them useful. thank you! following quotev's decision to remove groups i have no further inspiration to finish this pack so it will remain incomplete.
TW : food.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀.ᐟ editing and reposting my gifs is permitted per my personal rules just be sure to not claim them as your own and to give credit where credit is due. under no circumstances may you sell my gifs, edited or not, for monetary gain nor may you gatekeep them for private use. all resources generated from my gif packs should remain free and publicly available.
synopsis: following his suggestion of working at kings, kid runs into ishani and manages to stumble his way into a late-night drinking game, finding himself already caught up in her alluring web by the time he remembers why he was there in the first place.
warnings: drinking, physical violence (pretty tame this time!)
a/n: part 1 if you so please :3 happy to have this up
with a heavy sigh and a bandaged hand swiping at stray hairs, 'bobby' exited the kings' kitchen for a breath of fresh air away from the bleach he'd been inhaling for the last 30 minutes, fingers tender and raw pulling at his collar as he stepped into the back alley. his watery-eyed vision met the white grout of the building next door and kid could finally smell something other than the burn in his sinuses — namely the sweltering garbage bin baked in the heat all day — almost closing his eyes entirely as he pressed a shoulder against the wall to support his tired muscles.
"hey,"
the soft yet abrupt voice emanating from his left nearly had him flinching back inside, brows narrowed and eyes wide as he found a familiar face staring back, though her abnormal clothing almost put them back at square one — strangers. to be fair though, they still were only strangers. right?
"funny seeing you here." ishani hummed, a knowing glow in her gaze as she shifted in her elegant but uncomfortable-looking gown. "i didn't know pimps wore aprons."
a joke. kid flashed the slightest glimpse of a smile as he took a step in her direction though his gaze pulled to his shoes, nose pointed down at the cement whilst he squeezed life back into his fingertips. "only the best." he replied. kid swore he could hear her smirk grow into a grin.
"oh, so the monkey thing is just moonlighting, huh?"
he meets her eyes once more to truly witness that smile before attempting to match her warmth. "actually...it's the grunt work;" he says, still starkly monotonous and solemn compared to her consistent and outward congeniality. now a step closer to press his back into the wall, kid pinches the thick strap of fabric over his shoulder with his good hand and forces his lips upwards. "the apron."
"i see...well, don't tell anyone but," she leans toward him in a strained whisper, "i'm doing the same."
there's a smile finding its way to his lips again, coming easier to him as he nods like a swear to secrecy. with his palm pressed to the wall and a suppressed grumble in his throat kid sits beside her on the concrete. "i didn't think i'd see you here."
"did i give you that impression?" her question sounds accusatory — it is accusatory — and yet he can't seem to find a hint of hostility in her tone, the imprint of a grin still lingering in the corners of her mouth. he's shaking his head before he even knows what to say.
"just thought i went about it wrong. i didn't expect to see you here so soon, at least. how'd you find queenie?"
"...literally? or...?"
still playful, ishani trails off to watch his split lips upturn once more before she actually answers his question, the echoes of 'why?' lingering in the back of his mind.
"yeah, she's — uh..." she taps her brow with two fingers in a lazy salute "major bitch."
"i have to agree with you there. it's kind of...admirable in a way, though."
"to be that much of a monster all the time and still have everyone bow down to you? i'm jealous."
"that, too."
kid can feel the lull in conversation looming above his head once she turns to mirror his position and, a man of few words, finds anything to say in an attempt to avoid the (typically comfortable) silence. "so..." he starts, finding the words along the way "how's the night been?"
with his own eyes on the brick and focus on his peripheral, kid notices the pause before her response, an atypical quirk in her mannerisms. even through the very minimal interactions they'd had, kid did not understand her to be someone with a buffering time before her response — she always knew what she was gonna say and did it in a far timelier manner than himself — so this delay in her reply had him holding his breath.
"honestly;" she starts off like a warning — as if to offer the opportunity for him to skip this dialogue — "harder than i expected. worse than expected."
kid has to clench his jaw to ground himself in his seat, to disregard the imagery of absolute chaos flittering around the foreground of his mind and focus on the now. it wasn't hard to guess what exactly she meant. the tired-looking man nodded and swallowed thickly to rid the lump in his throat.
"sorry." he didn't know what else to say — how to express some semblance of understanding or sympathy. he sounded almost like a guilty child.
"it's okay," ishani stands with a heavy sigh and a grumble as she swats the strangling locks of curly hair over her shoulders. "work is work. right?"
wet eyes angled up at her from his place against the brick, kid silently nods in agreement, watching how her kindred smile returned along with the enigmatic sparkle in her eyes while she moved toward the back door. she offers one last salute with her hand on the knob before disappearing back inside.
"i'll catch you in the ring, monkey man."
and that she did, of course; her floor-length gown traded for skintight spandex as she made her circles around the ring with her signature smile and that stupid sign. the beast was beaten bloody as per usual and, though he was always rigged to lose either way, ishani could have sworn he was more distracted tonight.
the thing was — while she was no fighter herself or anything — it wasn't hard to tell that he could fight. he knew how to throw a hefty right hook and he was quicker on his feet than most of the bulky hogan rip-offs, so he could win if ever given the chance. (not that tiger would even consider it.)
some nights ishani hoped — even believed — that the beastly kong would finally grow sick of being the losing dog and show rhino or khan or cobra a taste of their own pulverized medicine. but her faith was always in vain, always ending with the monkey man flat on his back spitting up thick, frothy blood through the mask.
ishani typically didn't dare follow after him to see the aftermath — not that she could, anyway, usually stuck at the ring to congratulate the false winner — but something about their previous conversation instilled her with confidence tonight. enough so, in fact, that she would find herself inching into the locker room to look for the battered man without half an idea of what she'd say.
he was sitting alone with his back turned when she entered, grime and sweat covering every inch of skin she could see, drenched curls shaking with each wince as he wrapped his hand. for a brief moment ishani contemplated turning back — totally disregarding the intrigue as well as the blood smeared along his forehead — and then she was diving in headfirst with the tap of her knuckles to the tile wall. the monkey man shot a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder before he realized who it was.
"sorry." she echoed his earlier sentiment, though (as usual) she had a little more to say while taking chary steps forward. "i don't always mean to scare you."
kid endured two more heaving breaths before offering his own flat-affected quip. "sometimes?"
sitting beside him on the metal bench with a restrained grin, ishani has to force her prying eyes from his hands, landing instead on the gash above his brow. "sometimes." she affirms with a teasing shrug.
"good to know..."
a beat passes before she's then clearing her throat, her own hands visibly trembling in the corner of his vision. it was the mousiest he'd ever seen her — uncharacteristic of this woman who'd literally stormed into his life — and though he'd tried to conceal the heap of bruises in his skin by keeping his head down, kid couldn't help but look up to analyze her uneasy features.
"um...you know...i still feel bad for kong. every time, honestly. i uh — i wanted to know — i was wondering — do you think a beer would soften the blow a little bit?"
even ishani looks wary of the proposition, looking away to shrug once more with a small voice. "maybe...tonight? on me?"
a mere glimpse of his bloody smile leaves the anxiety swirling in her chest as nothing more than a need for oxygen, lungs expanding to their full capacity while his creased features smoothed out all skepticism. he looks back down at the blood on his shoes and ishani swears she hears a low chuckle before he asks, "how does 12:30 sound?"
"sounds perfect." she has to remind herself not to appear too delighted.
looking at them now, not one person in this dingy bar would believe what they did for work — the absolute hell they endured all day just to end up at a dim booth in their 'regular people clothes' (as she called it) for a late night beer.
"i'm getting red — i can feel it."
"it's not bad."
they were already halfway through their plans, ishani's cheeks graduating from a warm pink to a full-fledged crimson as she met the midway point of her drink. "you're a liar" she'd chuckle before collecting the sweat on the glass in her palms to then press to the flushed skin.
kid hides his smile with another sip from his own mug. "it's your half now." he says, nodding towards hers before wiping the froth from his mustache.
"oh, come on, man! i still barely know you."
"i still don't know you at all."
with a proud smirk ishani slouches back in her seat, arms folded over her chest as if to protest the shift of power over to him. "you know my name" she suggests, noting how his eyes narrowed before realizing the tell of what her next question would've been — as well as the fact that she was technically wrong; he didn't know her name. he knew ishani.
"okay," the flush-faced woman relented "maybe not my name, per say..."
"chalo, i'll start out easy."
"unlike me?"
he chuckled. "unlike you." with a feigned sigh of surrender and another shift in her seat, ishani tucked away any stray hairs from the rats nest of a bun on her head and readied herself for the slew of questions (and answers) that would follow.
"alright." she hummed, "shoot."
he was the one to wiggle in the booth now, lifting his elbows from the table to mirror her distance before asking the first thing that came to mind — that is, the first thing in mind that was easy to answer; "where are you from?"
"korea." she stated plainly. kid's brows jumped in surprise at the distance. "oh. long way from home...what brings you to india?"
he can see the contemplating reflection in her eyes letting him know that this follow up was in fact not an easy follow up, nimble fingers raising to brush the already-tucked hair behind her ear. "just like you said; long way from home."
"i see. when did you get here?"
"india? or mumbai?"
you'd think he was still the one in the hot seat with how his mannerisms became asynchronous as he navigated which route to go, head shaking whilst he shrugged. "um — mumbai." ishani simply smiles.
"maybe...two weeks before i started at tigers? but i'd been in india for almost a month by then."
he nods now, pausing briefly with pursed lips before his following inquiry. "so...why'd you leave korea?"
there is a brief moment where ishani looks off to think about her answer with a telling grin — or grimace, he couldn't tell — before she's suddenly reaching for her mug to raise it towards him. "cheers" she replies before taking a sip. kid is chuckling again.
"enough said. well, how are you liking it here so far?"
"it's nice! it's certainly different from what i'm used to. and i guess every country's like this but — it's nice seeing all the land and cultures. — and the food, of course."
"do you have a favorite?"
finally, a question that ishani visibly wanted to answer, the corners of her mouth turning upward as she sifted through the choices on her tongue. "jalebi is pretty addicting, but i've had an issue with gulab jamun recently. i just can't stay away from it."
"oh, so you're a sweets person?"
his shoulders drop half an inch when she laughs. "that and — anything is good fried; i'd eat a rock if it was smothered in oil!"
with his own dry laugh caught under his breath like he still had to tiptoe around her, kid takes another gulp of the earthy beer to postpone the buffering time he and only he expended on finding what to say next. it was so strange to him — how the silence of life he'd grown close with felt so overwhelming when it came to ishani — and how she never seemed to shy away from saying something, even if it was the uncomfortable questions both parties knew would be left unanswered.
and yet, she asked anyway, leaving them both inebriated a lot quicker than if they hadn't decided on this drinking game. maybe it was a good thing, though; her intimidating boldness. perhaps if they'd just spoken like normal people kid wouldn't've had the guts to tell her about his childhood under the trees and, in turn, wouldn't have seen the way she leaned in to listen. perhaps, even, if they'd just spoken like normal people, it wouldn't have been apparent enough to notice that they were not 'normal people.'
but they did go this route — avoiding questions with a swig of beer, indirectly indicating each and every bit of information they withheld, making it evident to the other just how much they had to hide. and though he would've been offput by the ambiguity between them had the roles been reversed, ishani remained seated before him with an endearing and honest smile, red-faced and far more candid than ever outside the walls of their workplaces.
with the lick of his beer-slick lips and a leap of faith into her outward hospitality, kid sets his elbows back on the table to ask what he actually wanted to know. "so..." he starts slowly "what brought you to tiger's temple? i can't imagine that was your first choice."
"you're right; it was not my first choice, but i'm used to..." her nose scrunches while she searches for the words "biting the bullet, i guess. — plus, sex sells, and you needed a ring girl. it just kinda...worked out...in a way."
ishani's hesitant cadence almost sends him reeling back to the surface but the steadfast attention trained on his every word has kid's mouth moving before his brain. "so that's why you ended up going to kings? just another bullet to bite...in a way?" for a moment he's worried he'd said too much, and then ishani's mischievous giggle lures him back in.
"in a way. had i known about queenie i probably would've thought about it a little longer, though."
"understandable." he's letting his own laughter out now, tired eyes and smile panning to his glass. "i probably should've mentioned that."
ishani leans forward to grab her drink again and paused to answer before she took another sip. "it's alright, i can deal. i just don't understand how — how she's so angry alll the time. it can't be good for her blood pressure."
"i mean...aren't you?" it seemed like an easy question to him — it was an easy question for him, and yet she hesitated.
“honestly?”
there it was again — the warning for him to maybe interrupt her or stop her from saying something with substance — and just as he had before, kid only tuned in further.
“no.” she says quietly. “just tired.”
these would be the words that truly stuck with the monkey man well after their last goodbyes outside the bar — even more so than the 'maybe we can do this again sometime' offered by ishani before she turned to walk home — and he'd catch himself internally mulling over this response throughout the day whenever there was a breath of silence. whether he was drying dishes or tossing out the trash, kid thought about what this response said about her deep down — how all of her seen or unseen experiences led to fatigue instead of fury. and it baffled him.
it came to the point where kid finally noticed how much space she took up in his mind only after stepping into queenie's office to pour her tea, overhearing something about chief rana that brought him right back to reality. simply hearing the name of this man chilled his blood and effectively reinstated his fervor for the scheme bubbling inside that had his scarred hands subconsciously balling into fists. the consistent hum of ishani within his skull subsided shortly to make room for the actual reason he was here and by the time he thought of her again, kid was ready to do whatever he needed to get back on track. even if it meant clamming up on the new acquaintance.
and yet, in spite of his decision to lapse back into strangers, kid saw her once again while exiting the back door of kings to head to tigers. he was entirely prepared to give her the cold shoulder — to practice mercy and sever any ties he'd stumbled into, relieving her of the horrors to come — and then he saw how her face lit up once she spotted him. how cruel.
"hey" ishani smiled, striding closer with both hands in her hoodie pocket. kid has to look forward as to not get caught back in the loop.
"hey. today alright?"
"yeah..." her voice is high like she's unsure — like she's questioning her own response. "busy, but alright. what about you?"
he starts out carefully, reworking how he'd normally respond into a version that kept her at an arm's length, holding strong in his attempt to refocus on the end goal.
"uh...pretty much the same..."
he trails off, spending half a second to debate whether or not he'd tell her about the discussion with their coworker before making the fatal mistake of looking into her eyes — his white-knuckled resolve lost entirely once he found her gaze.
"have you met alphonso?"
ishani's eyebrows furrow together at the sudden shift in conversation, though she plays along. "no, i don't think so."
"good." kid sighs "alphonso works under queenie — short guy, s'got a limp — he'll be in the stands tonight."
"okay...why are you telling me this?"
for the first time between them thus far ishani is looking at kid suspiciously, visibly distrusting and aware of something being off despite not knowing what, exactly. it was almost frustrating to him, how he struggled to stay on guard around her — and even more frustrating how well she read him. he looked forward once more.
"just...keep an eye out for him. he's alright, just — don't be shocked if he comes up to you."
ishani was left acutely unsettled by this vague warning — especially considering the lack of explanation and increase of idiosyncrasies in the monkey man's demeanor — but without a prior reason to mistrust she had no choice other than to take it on the chin and keep her eyes peeled for the aforementioned 'alphonso.'
after entering the ring ishani spent the entire first round scouring every inch of the bleachers and making uncomfortable eye contact with patrons in the stand before she finally gave up on the guessing game. by the 3rd and final round, she had all but forgotten about the beastly kong's disclaimer in favor of looking away at the right time to miss his assault. the fight concluded without a hitch and by the time she began closing everything up, ishani was already basking in the relief of missing out on an uncomfortable conversation.
— and then, low and behold, ishani's eyes would catch on a man with a limp approaching while she wrapped up the chord to tiger's microphone. with a plastered-on smile and a bated breath ishani internally prepared herself for the worst and awaited his word.
"hello, madam." the curly-haired man grinned like he knew something she didn't.
"hello, sir. can i help you with something?"
he stops about a foot and a half in front of her with narrow eyes on her features and a never-ending grin, index finger raised to point at the ring girl. "you're ishani, right?"
"that i am. what can i do for you?"
"what is this?" he asks with a dry chuckle "you two masterminding some laundering scheme or something?"
ishani's head is tilting as she hears his question, a lone, incredulous "what?" being her immediate reply. he laughs again.
"you know — mister bobby."
bobby...there was a fighter here whose real name was bob, though he got pretty upset whenever someone called him that. ishani modestly shook her head as she set down the thick cord to instead place her hands on her hips. "no, doesn't ring a bell. sorry." honestly, she was just ready for the conversation to be over.
"the monkey?" he continues, and it only takes a second before she's put the pieces together and working up a response. "oh!" she exclaims with a giggle to postpone her explanation.
"i'm sorry, i'm not familiar with a lot of our fighters by name."
he nods with a laugh of his own, though she can't tell which part is particularly funny. "well, could you give him a message for me? tell him alphonso says 'it's a done deal.'"
"of course." ishani is clenching her jaw as she smiles, goosebumps raising the hair on her arms. "i'll let him know."
alphonso promptly presses his palms together in thanks before he turns to leave, dropping one last line that had heat rushing to her face while he walked away.
"thank you, miss seo."
she was turning on her heel to run into the locker rooms the second he was out of sight, surveilling the barren space with her heart in her throat only to find the monkey mask hanging on its usual locker door. with the only noise being the few other guys' hushed discussions and the echoed water from a faucet in the bathroom, ishani places her bets and rounds the corner with a clenched jaw, back pressing into the adjacent wall as she watched 'bobby' run his index along his molars before noticing her in the mirror. he's removing his finger from his mouth to spit a glob of blood into the porcelain as she clears her throat.
"so, alphonso came by." she says in a stern voice, the usual warm timbre found when she'd spoken with him up to this point gone and replaced with a tangible distance lodged between them. "said to tell bobby that his deal was done."
kid turns to face her as he leans against the sink and she swears his gaze held more weight, like he had to really concentrate to look her in the eyes. "he say anything else?"
she simply shrugs. "just if we were in on some laundering scheme or not..."
it was both a blessing and a curse that they read each other so well up till this point, both sides positively certain without a shadow of a doubt that the other had ulterior motives lurking below the surface. there is a moment of silence that leaves them suspended in limbo — both preparing their own play in wait for the other — before ishani takes it upon herself to speak again. since he wouldn't.
"i was thinking about getting a drink tonight. wanna come?" even her presentation was different, a cunning edge weaved into her words and tone. kid's not sure what to make of it.
"sorry, not tonight."
she nods with a pursed lip and her eyeline falls to her shoes. "i see. well, maybe some other time."
"yeah." he says, "we'll see."
and with that, ishani's got all she needs. she knows what he's doing as well as he does, and though it was frustrating and (naively) hurtful, who was she to make him be friends with her? were they even friends anyway? — whatever. didn't matter.
she doesn't even make an effort to respond before she's turning to leave him at the sink, jaw screwed tight as to disregard the burn in her nose or the prickling at her eyes. maybe it was just nice to know someone — to not feel entirely alone in this huge country with double the population — but she'd managed just fine all by herself, even now, so was it really a big deal?
'no.'
she decides when crawling into bed for the night, the blisters on her heels burning with every other shift and turn.
it wasn't a big deal, but it was nice while it lasted. — he was nice...
whatever. she just hoped she could avoid him the following workday.
ok but can i ask why commas are so addicting? i'm over here connecting 3 separate but related ideas together bitch!!! i'm doing it 6 times in a row and i can't stop!!! i will get this mfer written whether it takes 36,000 commas or not!!!
(also another way of saying; rip is working on an upcoming monkey man piece rn and having great enrichment time)
synopsis: in anticipation of tech developer deon wilson’s ‘scout’ production, weapons corporation tetravaal hires a new graphic artist to head the designs, unwittingly bringing together the two forces that will lead to the company’s downfall.
word count: 1.4k
featuring: deon wilson, (oc) malia bryant
warnings: innuendos?
a/n: working thru writers block i think bc i hit a lot of ruts during this piece can you tell 😫 how do we feel about her idk
it wasn't a shocker (or shouldn't be, at the very least) to say that deon — prior to meeting lia — was a complete and utter virgin nerd. growing up a computer geek didn't exactly put him in with the popular crowd during his school years so growing into an even bigger loser didn't help much, either. and while tetravaal was somewhat a dream of his, work or tech typically came before socialization, meaning interaction with anyone other than his 40-something-year-old coworkers was scarce. so, when a new coworker joined the company in addition to the upcoming 'scouts' being produced by the genius dork, guess what deon did?
absolutely nothing, of course. not when his new coworker turned out to be a girl around his age with tiny bangs, not when she moved into the desk directly behind him, not even when she made eye contact with him on her way to their CEO. instead, deon simply stared as she offered a friendly, coworker-ly smile in passing that faded soon upon his lack of response. he'd return home that first day with a grimace etched into his cheeks before going straight to bed in hopes of waking up to find it had all been some hazy, sleep-deprivation-induced hallucination.
of course, it wasn't; she was already working dutifully at her desk by the time deon sat at his own with a coffee containing enough espresso shots to kill a non-programmer. he'd spent the entire first hour of work subconsciously preparing for the next time she'd make eye contact with him, deciding whether to act cool or kind or charming, all the while fixing any loose ends on his scout program whose deadline was looming closer now that she'd arrived. and then the time came for him to present his charms, their eyes meeting as she passed by his cubicle, and deon found himself utterly frozen under the piercing pupils of tetravaal's newest addition.
for a brief moment that seemed like an eternity to the wide-eyed tech designer, her brows furrowed — less like she was angry and more like she was studying a specimen — before exhibiting a tight-lipped smile that seemed like a restrained laugh to eagle-eyed deon. he was left nearly gasping for breath by the time she turned away to let him marinate in the cringe of his own actions.
how they'd manage to grow past this initial stage — he had no idea — but what he did know was; being paired on a project together was their boss's best proposition yet.
it took them a few days to really, truly converse despite working collaboratively on scout blueprints but, coincidentally, both parties would finally warm up to one another quite well by the time the final drafts were ready for ms. bradley's eyes. so much so, in fact, that after only a few weeks of swapping life stories and 'working overtime' to secretly chat for just a little bit longer, the two would begin dating. they had to be quiet about it as employee-on-employee action was strictly prohibited at tetravaal (some security bullshit, as deon says,) so while fellow coworkers saw them as nothing more than business partners in the robocop department, their carefully constructed facade always came to a close every time they clocked out.
the pairs' extracurricular activities after work started out solely at her apartment due to deon's complete and utter aversion to his (first) girlfriend witnessing the crime that was his living space — especially after seeing hers. on its own, deon's 'typically-barren-other-than-garbage-too-high-for-his-bots-to-reach' apartment was cold and dull but serviceable as a place to call home. compared to her apartment, however? barely met HOA standards.
so he always went to her place instead, always welcomed with open arms into her cozy little loft filled to the brim with decorations despite the fact that she'd only been there for a few months by that point. and as they always did, lia and deon would sit on her blue corduroy couch with cheap wine in hand to 'watch a movie,' paying it entirely no mind in favor of learning about the other flushed face on the cushion.
deon had learned quite quickly that, in stark contrast to his lifetime of being a loser computer nerd, malia (lia when they weren't at work) bryant was and had always been the pretty art girl. originally from the states, lia attended the top university in south africa on a scholarship for graphic design and had recently graduated with a multitude of cords on her shoulders, as seen in the silly photo on the mantle with all of her collegiate friends.
he inferred from the numerous paintbrush-style awards on the bookshelves just how many successful art projects she'd claimed previously and, upon inquiring about this passion leading her to a weapons corporation, found that lia honestly had no care in the world for robots or tech at all! what she cared about was digital art and illustrations and 3d models; tetravaal was simply a job that offered the slightest bit of creativity for a fresh graduate with a degree in an under-paying and under-hiring profession. that was how she came to work as the rendering artist for scout prototypes — and soon all prototypes.
only after learning enough about lia's life to name her long-lost childhood best friend did deon finally invite her over to his place, making sure to clean and fluff every tiny detail of his apartment, programming his bots to greet her once she entered the doorway and saw the anxious developer white-knuckling a bundle of flowers still soiled from the dirt he'd plucked them. malia responded graciously (as per usual) and sat on his bland couch all night with wandering eyes and grimy carnations in her hands, asking a horde of her own questions before eventually prodding him on to infodump about the bulky computer system in the corner of the room.
with a shaky breath and sweaty palms, an apprehensive smile flashing on his face, deon would share (for the first time) about his recent secret project — about the real artificial intelligence program he was working on — and in turn offer malia the first real piece of himself with substance. he'd started out slowly — generalizing this and that to make it short and sweet for the 'likely disinterested' artist — but he found that the more he rattled on, the more space she created for him to talk, nodding along and asking clarifying questions. it appeared (at least to him) that her intrigue with the subject grew the longer he went on, her fond smile growing as he continued rambling about bandwidth. needless to say, neither party got much sleep that night and lia in particular had to go to work the next morning with terabytes of computer jargon in her brain, but the pros from this long night heavily outweighed the cons.
at least on the surface.
the couple's after-work routine adjusted to better maximize their time spent together, enjoying various records at lia's place while pushing work to the back of their minds or sitting in the others' comfortable company while finishing up some personal projects at his place. the awaited launch of his scouts, which had been designed completely by lia, would be commemorated with a fancy dinner outing that ended in a sweaty tangled mess of limbs under the pastel comforter of her mattress. coworkers continued to be oblivious, malia had been promoted to head graphic designer, deon was well-respected by others and close to cracking the code for his AI project; things were going great!
so, when malia caught him sprinting past her office in the warehouse with dark circles and bloodshot eyes, she had an inkling as to what was up. "hey!"
still running, deon whipped his head back to look at her, stopping cartoonishly in his tracks to turn back around. "hey!" he panted, pressing a hand to the doorway as he caught his breath, "could you do me a huge favor?"
"of course."
deon pushed up his glasses slipping down his nose, "there was a scout scheduled for demolition yesterday — twenty-two — can you have the guys hold it for me?"
"yeah — yeah, course, i'll let them know." malia's lips curl into a hopeful smile "did you...?" she trailed off once his own grin appeared, already backtracking to fervently run somewhere else.
synopsis — working in the scouts department at tetravaal tech designer deon wilson [Dev Patel] and malia bryant [Marisa Moon], the detached rendering artist working solely for her check at the end of the week (and their thrilling secret office romance), find themselves at odds after stumbling into a mess of disorganized crime. juggling deon’s genuine passion for the advancement of ai consciousness while lia finds him to be the true marvel, the couples priorities and morals are tested when they find themselves in a much larger scheme of criminals, sentience, and psychotic coworkers.
i have so much affection for the ugly, selfish, human part of people's motivations that pollutes their noble intentions and ideals. i did it because i liked it. because i was good at it. because it felt good. because i deserved it. because i wanted to.
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