天上天下希澈獨尊

kim heechul. old. institute. professor in close combat.

[xm-chanho]

f a k e - it

[xm-chanho]

he really wishes she would take off her helmet, because staring back at himself, distorted against the curved darkness of it makes him feel smaller and smaller.

[xm-cherry]

sitting in silence had always made her fidget, always unsure about where to keep her hands, or place her body. but, at that moment, she felt quite relaxed, watching chanho like a new play toy, flitting around the centre of the room, too nervous to continue sitting down. she tries a smile but remembers he can neither see it nor recognize her smiling self yet, so instead she stands up from her seat, walks around the desk and pulls him into a half-hug, half shoulder squeeze. she isn’t sure how he’s going to react but she moves away quickly enough so that it’s not uncomfortable. with a sense of urgency, she waves her hands around in a stop motion and then picks up her tablet.

"the danger room isn't actually dangerous, you little rat. it's safe, everyone uses it. but, of course, you wouldn't know what it even looks like because you're about to leave."

she stops typing, showing him the tablet. she had tried explaining and being nice. maybe this kid didn't do nice. so, she tries a different angle and throws up her hands in the air before replying to him,

"this is a fucking school, you idiot. you want to talk prison? there are other organizations out there that'll treat you worse than shit. there are other mutants out there that are dying to be here, that have died trying to get here. or just to get out of there. to be somewhere, anywhere else that's safer than where they are. i hate to admit it, too, but humans are even worse. it's a shitty world out there, and you know it. so do you want to keep fighting and losing, or do you want to fight back and actually do something?"

she types quickly, not pausing until she has written out everything and then shows it to him. when she's satisfied that he has read it all, she types again.

"and grow up, don't pretend to be fucking innocent, because you're not. but fine, if you want to leave, leave. don't just stand around here. i need to find something and i thought you'd be willing to help but forget it. go back to the country, kid."

she holds her tablet out for him to take, and circles back around to her chair before settling back in, resting her arms against the desk and placing her helmet against her forearms. kids are exhausting, she thinks.

[xm-cherry]

50% vicodin prescription!! fast delivery!

[txt] take action within the week. comprehensive plans available. reply YES for pamphlet. reply NO to discontinue

[txt xm-hyoyeon] YES. I will like to take action. How long can I expect delivery to take?

[xm-chanho]

f a k e - it

[xm-chanho]

he stares at his own picture; it’s a school portrait from middle school and he laughs at how creepy that is until cherry’s static pose starts to unnerve him. he’s got a hunch that she can’t see much through the dark lens of her helmet, but it doesn’t make her lack of response any more natural. chanho picks up the folder and the page rustles in his hand. regalia physiology; a weapon wielded by others. 

“so what?” he asks. chanho places the paper back on cherry’s desk and leans back in his seat, arms crossed. “there are people like me out there, right? like i can’t be the only one with this kind of power thing, right?” the idea of having someone no one else does makes his skin freeze up. he grew up an only child and he hated that more than anything else.

“so how different is this training supposed to be? am i gonna have to enter the matrix or something?”

[xm-cherry]

cherry moves her head from side to side as if pondering his words, mulling over how she wanted to reply to him. tapping her fingers on the surface of her device, she slowly started typing a response, pausing every few seconds to look back up at him - shake her head, erase something, and begin retyping again. finally, she slid the tablet towards chanho.

“as far as we know, you are currently our only bearer of this kind of particular power and physiology. but we’re still searching, still looking.. we don’t know the full extent of what kind of powers are out there.”

she takes a moment to let him read what she wrote before taking her device back, and continues to type another answer.

“we do have a danger room! it’s a practice room where you can practice to your heart’s content. unfortunately, you are not ...”

she pauses to show him her response, giving herself a little more time to figure out how she wanted to phrase her next words.

“unfortunately, you are not able to practice by yourself. you need someone else to ... help you use your powers.”

she puts down the tablet awkwardly and scratches the back of her head. in chanho’s profile, the words are written in pure black and white - there’s no mistake that they need to find someone who can use the regalia effectively but it’s harder trying to explain it to him in person. she sighs internally, only just a little bit frustrated that she had not only been assigned with the task to keep an eye on the country bumpkin, but now she had to try and explain a whole new world to him, as well. she was, obviously, not well prepared.

[greyfaced]

vanished II, by Gabriel Zambrano

[xm-chanho]

f a k e - it

[xm-chanho]

first impressions can be shallow and misleading but in cherry’s case, chanho quickly realizes that what he thought were eccentricities are nothing more than commonplace to her. the thoughts racing through his mind come to a grinding halt. he furrows his brows.

"why are you trying to drink coffee through a helmet?" he closes the door behind him and stands in front of the desk. "why is your helmet even on? how dangerous can your office really be?"

come to think of it, he had never seen her face—the helmet had been on when they first met as well as every time they passed each other in the hall. he groans, it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care, these are dumb questions, anyway. his hands come up to rub his face, and he presses his palms against his eyelids to try and recall what he came to ask here in the first place.

"no, i don’t care," he says, before she can answer. "i want to know more about the cerebro thing, and what’s my power even supposed to be. were you just making shit up? like i’ve heard of flying, and maybe like superhuman strength, but the shit you said was confusing. how am i supposed to train or do anything, or—"

he flops down to the chair in front of her desk and whines. it’s too frustrating.

"and all the other professors are just like ‘ask cherry, ask cherry,’ and it took me a whole fucking day to find out who they meant,” he whines some more.

[xm-cherry]

rolling her head, her back cracks slightly and she sets down her legs before scooting in closer to her desk. it almost seems as if she's smirking when she types her response in a tablet.

"you seem really frustrated. would you like to take your mind off what's stressing you?"

she holds up the device and stands up, walking around the desk and leaning on it, just in front of chanho's chair.

her shoulders shake and she folds her arms over her stomach - the only indication that she's laughing at chanho's face. she waves her as if to dismiss what she previously said, and types again,

"cerebro is a machine used to locate mutants. jihoon uses it to find mutants all over our world."

she pauses to show him the screen, then returns to typing,

"that means, you are most definitely a mutant if you showed up in cerebro - and no, the machine does not make a mistake."

she slips the device back on her desk and walks over to a filing cabinet, flipping through the many folders in it before taking out the one she needed. walking back to the desk, she flops it open in front of chanho. in it, there's a top sheet with chanho's face and the description of his powers, along with what seems to be his assumed weaknesses and strengths.

"this is you. you're a weapon, and so your training is going to be a little bit different,"

she types quickly and shows it to him before setting the device back down. sitting down in her chair, she leans back again and watches as chanho digests the information.

[givingbirthtoconstellations]

[xm-chanho]

f a k e - it

chanho slides on a pair of cheap headphones he found on a cafe table. only one side works but he hates uneven weight. so far, his classes are full of kids who know more than him about being a mutant. so far, he’s not entirely convinced that he’s a mutant himself but according to heechul, “cerebro” never makes mistakes. whatever cerebro is (and he hopes heechul’s not referring to himself).

he knocks on professor kim heechul’s door. he’s skipping another class for this. but he can’t sit through maths anymore.

chanho hasn’t tried to argue. both out of confusion and out of fascination with a life he never thought of living. he’d met homeless mutants, there are plenty of them out there, hiding, anxious of being discovered, and he thinks it’s a little twisted for them to be out there and for him to be here. he was fairly safe, fairly secure that even if he was a mutant, he’d never show signs of it anyway. 

the door opens and he takes out the one working earbud.

"i got some questions."

[xm-cherry]

cherry swivels fast around in her rolling chair, neatly placing her high-heeled boots on her desk - the dramatic entrance she had been waiting for all morning, perfectly executed. curling her fingers, she gestures chanho into the room and leans back on her chair.

"what do you want to know?" she answers, using one hand to readjust her pencil skirt closer to her body, and the other hand to carefully raise her coffee mug to her dark biker helmet. she's wearing a light mauve-coloured silk shirt and she's been very self-conscious about how to drink her coffee all morning for fear of splashing some of the liquid on her shirt (except she, really, doesn't drink it - as she can't. it's more of a gesture, but what the hell, she's only just sort of kind of human). settling the cup down, she turns her attention back to the boy.

"but first, tell me, what are you wearing?" she asks, her disgust just mildly disguised as curiosity.

[heecorner]

一路上有你 Weibo Update with Heechul

[kubrickyu]

H e e c h u l

2/13

[xm-chanho]

the god who won't feed me

"i’m leaving you," chanho said. he got up from the park bench they were sitting on, the smell of hot fried food wafting over him and enticing his empty stomach.

he’d been heechul’s weapon for all of three days and all he’d gotten out of it was some used clothes stolen from a thrift shop and a one-dollar churro. he could do better than that by himself if he begged on the street corner—in fact, he probably had been doing better by himself (not that he could remember anything before heechul found him).

"i’m so hungry," he whined and stomped his feet.

[xm-cherry]

heechul grunts once, then twice as chanho gets up and stomps his feet. his thoughts are on the cat he'd spotted walking along the center of town. it had looked just like king heebum, but he wasn't entirely sure. by the time he'd turned his full attention towards the creature (with chanho whining in his ear about the point of searching for a cat), it had disappeared and he was cat-less once again. he sighed, hanging his head low. what was a god if he couldn't find a damned lost cat? gloominess hangs around him, and he continues to wallow for a good thirty seconds more until the scent of food drifts towards him and his stomach growls a reminder of its emptiness.

his thoughts turn to food and he gets up slowly, almost floating towards the smell until he can see the street vendor and the food laid out like a meal fit for a king. it looks so tempting, like he could reach his hand and just pluck it from its plate and eat it.

he groans both internally and very loudly, "why can't i just find this cat?!" he exclaims, burrowing his face into his hands. face lifting, he throws an accusatory glare in the direction of chanho.

"you," he says, "i had the cat! but then nooo you had to distract me with your whining. i swear," he pauses, seeing a familiar swish of a tail and he's filled with undeniable excitement.

"there he is!" he whispers dramatically and gestures loudly at chanho between each phrase, "get him!! money!! job done!! i'll buy you food!!" he ends with an ok motion of his hands and sets off running, hoping to catch the cat unawares in order to capture him.

[xm-chanho]

halfway down the stairs

[xm-chanho]

(/turns to frown at him and reaches up to adjust his glasses. his fingers meet air and he looks down at his hand, unsure of why he had wanted to do that. he doesn’t know how to reply to the older man. nothing of what he had said made any sense to him right now so he makes a small questioning noise instead.)

(/he blinks as the man runs his hand along his arm, and stares openly for a long time, processing the question.) no, i-. (/pauses to think back to what the doctor had said when he woke up) no, i had to have surgery on it. (/frowns because he wasn’t told what the surgery was for, and he hopes heechul doesn’t ask about it. bits of memory are coming back to him as he speaks, he remembers a family, a little sister, and he wonders if they’re anywhere nearby but something tells him they aren’t.)

(/the pain killers are wearing off little by little and he’s starting to feel the pain in his arm again. it’s dull but when he breathes in too deeply he can feel it shift and the pain gets even worse. he bites his lip, standing up and looking down at heechul) i have- (/looks down at himself, and the motion makes him dizzy but he uses his left arm to dig around in his pockets until he find a few packets of pills) i need water.

[xm-cherry]

[/heechul's frown deepens slightly as he tries to maintain a cool head about this kind of situation that he's sure he has never been in before. biting his lip, he stands up when chanho does too and looks towards the emptied train in front of them, reminding him of the reason why he was here at all.] water? um.. [/uselessly looks around before realizing that, duh, this is a relatively abandoned station save for the occasional train that travelled back and forth with institute students.] i don't have water [/dumb. absolutely dumb. he knows and he would slap himself if he were anyone else but he wasn't and protect the precious face and all... and he's getting off track. he shakes his head slightly to clear his head and looks down at chanho] um, i could take you to the convenience store, [/he asks more than suggests as he places a hand lightly on the other's shoulder and tries to steady him as it looks like the other is having some difficulty standing up straight. he indicates towards the city nearby as he waits for an answer.]

[xm-cherry]

▷french virgin party

[chanhore-blog]

Yida tenses at the hand on his shoulder. He lets himself be pushed back and watches carefully as Heechul moves around him. He breathes out evenly, but his jaw is still stiff with carefully hidden anger.

“Asshole,” he mutters in chinese.

The walk up is annoying with Heechul stopping at every floor to silently ask if this was the one. At the 3rd floor, he squeezes his way past the red head and moves up to the 4th, guiding him down the hallway that was just as cramped as the stairs. 

He checks the time on his phone and knocks on a door and he passes by.

“Nine thirty,” he calls out.

He ignores Heechul until they get to a door at the end of hallway. He puts in his key and just before he opens the door he stops and points at the numbered plaque just above the peekhole.

“Four thirteen,” he says. A slow grin paints itself on his face and he enters the room without waiting for Heechul to protest. Yida wasn’t a superstitious man. Numbers meant nothing when everyday of your life was littered with encounters that would make anyone else insane. The apartment had been unoccupied at the time, a miracle to him when he was denied every other apartment in favor of couples with children. The landlord hadn’t been able to rent the apartment in years, and the residents had generally avoided the door until he moved in.

Yida moved to the other side of the apartment, tugging at the buttons on his shirt as he moved into his room to change. He didn’t have any food in the small kitchen, but he would wait for Heechul to find out for himself.

[xm-cherry]

With each step, Heechul found himself getting strangely excited. Here he was in China, and even though he could barely understand the complicated syllabic language, he felt he was one step closer to his goal. He almost seems too eager, as he bounds up after Yida, a slight bounce in his step as he chooses to ignore the other in order to observe his surroundings and memorize the way to the apartment. As they walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but grimace in dissatisfaction at the cobwebs that hung all around them and the amount of dust clinging to every corner as if no one had even bothered to pass a duster through there since the building had been constructed. Heechul stepped carefully around a suspicious stain as he followed Yida and looked up just in time to stop himself from colliding into the other as they turned the key into the room.

If he hesitated, it was merely for a fraction of a second before Heechul entered. Superstitions and religious myths simply weren't part of his belief system. A certain devout person had tried to convince him otherwise for years before finally giving up and concluding that Heechul would never be saved. Hell if he cared, though, as long as he wasn't bothered into having to ignore that person's long rants about being pious and how praying and a whole lot of sore knees could unlock paradise. Please, Heechul thought, Paradise was level 45 and he was already way past that stage.

Heechul looked around the apartment thoughtfully, taking in the awful decor but figured that at least it looked comfortable enough to live in. Although, what he assumed to be the living room looked like it needed a good dust-down before he settled in or else he'd be facing a whole lot of headaches and a whole lot of uncomfortable sneezing. Scratching his neck nervously, he moved towards the kitchen, immediately throwing a critical eye towards the lack of kitchen utensils and the small fridge off towards the side. Walking up towards it, the frown he'd been wearing on his face since he'd entered the apartment only increased as he opened the fridge and found nothing edible in it save for a half a gallon of milk that looked weeks old. Sighing, he turned towards the bedroom door that he'd seen Yida disappear into and approached it tentatively.

"There's nothing to eat." He thought he should state the obvious, of course. He couldn't just starve. It would be against Chinese ethics or something. He's sure Hangeng had said that once to him too - something about it being in a Chinese person's blood to always have food around.

"I gave you all my money, so.." Heechul continues when there's no answer and let's the rest of his words hang in the air as he waits for an answer.

[showslow-deactivated20180412]

Jessica Harrison, Hole in the head

[superandyy]

@Himsenkangin: Our beloved Super Junior members… I really like you guys… My hyungs, same aged friends, dongsaengs, you all make me feel so secure. If I have you guys on my side, I’m not afraid of anything… Bring it on guys~~~ Goodnight and thank you ♥

[xm-chanho]

halfway down the stairs

[xm-chanho]

(/looks up at the sound of a voice. he raises his eyebrows, lids still only half open in a squint. he feels the soft tug of a memory, pulling him back from the haze of painkillers. he knows this man, although the red hair is something he’s sure he doesn’t recognize, but it takes him more than a few minutes for the memory to fade back in like a cloud riding the wind. it gives him a headache, and he cradles his head as he replies)

I’m not a munchkin, (/his voice is dull and throaty like it hasn’t been used in a long time and he raises his head in shock because he realizes he doesn’t even know if this is what his voice has always sounded like.) I remember you. (/he says, but details are something he can’t quite reach. what was he like, how long did they know each other, and what was his name. he swallows and the back of head throbs. if it’s this painful, he doesn’t know if he wants to remember anything else.)

[xm-cherry]

[/oh shit, heechul thinks, standing up straight and running a finger over his jaw line before coming to a rest on his chin, where it stays, tapping thoughtfully as his head churns with all sorts of questions. he doesn't voice any, though, and instead sits next to the little punk he'd tortured only, what, a few weeks back, with style and new clothes - all of which he accepted, if only a bit begrudgingly. heechul leans over a bit to look at the other closer, observing the fragile-seeming state of him and snorts when the other replies to him with a familiar bite but the way his voice sounds makes heechul frown all the same.]

Yah, you better remember. I'm only the one who transformed you into my beautiful creation of style and good common sense. Yet, I see.. None of it stuck.

[/fingers the low-quality polyester on the other's outfit, running his hand down until he lightly taps the bandaged arm] What's this? Did you get in a fight or something? It isn't good for munchkins to get into fights, you know. [/looking around before, he leans in conspiratorially and whispers,] Did you at least win? [/gives him one of those shit-eating smiles he always has in stock, tilting his head to one side to get a better look at chanho]

[davidorogenic-deactivated201910]

[xm-cherry]

MOURGE

mourge