Initializing π.exe

[xm-fie]

sorry i keep disappearing in and out. school is destroying me at the moment and my mental health is suffering as a result (and the fact i’ve fucked my ankle and, in turn, my knee at training isn’t helping). i’m gonna be giving sanha a bit of a refurb. he’s still gonna be him, but i haven’t added much to him in a while so i’ll be doing that (though i’ll leave it till after there’s a confirmation of whether we’re switching from TLoW or not).

[xm-leeminki]

Pizza and Dial-up Tones

Stepping though the portal Tox firmly held onto the box filled with the cheesy, pepperoni goodness he had ‘purchased’. Walking down the halls of the base he ignored the strange stares and snickering that followed after he walked by, that was expected when dial-up tones suddenly started blaring out of your phone like it was being sent to electronic hell.

Tox was too focused on his half-assed plan on getting the electronic to shut the hell up, because in his mind nobody hated pizza. Not even the grouchy, tech-wiz mechanic who somehow found out he had taken anti-freeze and was punishing him. There was no point in throwing his phone into a wall or smashing it to bits with a cinder-block, oh no F:ie would just find out he had a new phone and the terrible screeching would only intensify. At least now the sabotaged phone was only screaming bloody murder in timed intervals every other half hour.

Walking into the garage Tox was greeted by the smell of motor oil, he was sure the mechanic was around the place somewhere as he called out, “Fee! F:ie! Fo! Fum! Ready or not here I fucking come! And I bring a piece offering so you can cease with the technological murder of my phone! I’ve been getting more weird looks than usual and the pizza place asked me never to come back…but that’s probably because I didn’t pay for the pizza”.

[xm-fie]

While it was true that Sanha didn't like to expend energy on things that he didn't believe worth his time or focus, he was also the kind to hold vicious grudges. He was the type to hold something above someone's head until the end of time - or until they gave him a reason to let go, but that was very rare, if ever.

And so it continued, an endless loop of potentially trying to intentionally permanently deafen a certain terrorist for reasons he'd rather not dwell on - the bastard was annoying as all hell, was that not reason enough - an endless torture to ensure that Tox was going to regret everything he had ever done. Or, at least, everything he had done that directly or indirectly affected the mechanic in some way or another.

The bonus of using his power to ensure that the terrorist's phone would regularly blare high-pitched tones was that it made it incredibly hard for the bastard to sneak up on him, and he could hear the whining before Tox even spoke - not that his words helped his case in the matter.

He didn't respond immediately, far more interested in finishing the adjustment he was making to one of the truck beds, and it was a minute or two before he finally slid his creeper back out again and sat up. His hand lifted to wipe away the feeling of sweat on his forehead - his work-in-progress prosthetic arm was currently in pieces on his desk leaving his scarred stump free and just as covered in grease as the risk of his skin.

Of all things...

"Pizza?"

[xm-woobin]

Road-Runner || Woobin & F:ie

Woobin doesn’t tend to have difficulties with phone calls. Not when it comes to regular things that he has to do; practical stuff that he needs to get out of his way in order to stop pilling up so much work. He likes to work, that is granted - being a workaholic and all - but still, he is yet to understand how in the hell does he pile up so much paperwork. He decides that someone is definitely not doing their job right and he plans on finding who that is because he needs to have someone to yell at. 

Then he thinks he has been postponing that call for way too long and whether or not he likes to put personal matters in front of work - he doesn’t like to - he tends to do it when it comes to a certain younger male. 

F:ie indulged him - in the worst ways, he thinks. He gave him what he wanted, when he wanted and the way he wanted, which was basically what made him so effective and Woobin loved that in people. He was not an easy guy to deal with, some people might have said, but somehow, he never thought the younger was all that difficult. Maybe having a very difficult temperament himself was enough experience. Maybe he thought the other was one of the easiest people to handle because they were both practical. They both knew what they wanted. 

"Hello, is this Mr. I’ll-get-you-all-you-ask-me-for-a-good-price?" He always started like that when he heard the grumpy ‘hey’ on the other side whenever he called. Woobin is not one for jokes - unless he’s comfortable with someone - but F:ie is a dick and he likes people like those (mainly because they remind him of himself).

"I thought I’d call to check on the winter ‘catalog’. Any new things you have available and that I might like? I think I need a change and you’re my favorite supplier, so… Tell me everything I want to hear."

[xm-fie]

There aren't a lot of voices that he ever really likes to hear. People interrupting his thought processes at any time are an annoyance and often dealt to quickly, and even those that he is expecting visits from are seen more as annoying flies buzzing around his head rather than actual people. Phone calls are just as bad as in-person visits, but at least those he can mute, and ringtones give away exactly who is calling so he can decide whether or not he wants to answer in the first place.

Sanha was in the middle of something mildly important when the ringtone caught his attention, an alert appearing in the centre of each of his screens. An annoying feature he was going to have to recode at some point in the future. None of the numbers were listed - for the safety of everyone - but even with the number splayed in front of him, the mechanic could easily recognize exactly who was calling even without the assistance of the blaring ringtone.

He reached his one hand forward for his earpiece and slid it into place - this was not going to be a conversation that he wanted someone else to hear both sides of - and, with that done, he tapped his power into his computer system and answered the phonecall.

There was a grunt in response to Woobin's initial greeting, same as there always is, and if it weren't for the fact he didn't have any pressing matters to deal related to his actual (albeit, illegal) job, he probably wouldn't have even bother to answer.

"The winter catalogue is only available in Summer and Autumn," he stated with a short tone. He leaned back in his chair and lifted his feet onto his desk, arm resting in his lap - his work-in-progress prosthetic was currently on a work bench rather than attached to his stump of a limb so he was having to deal with things one-handed right now. "Though I suppose for the right price I can dig it out and find some last minute specials for you. 

[solomids]

[xm-fie]

π;

( /christmas is not a thing that sanha likes to deal with - he's a grinch if there ever was one and makes everyone look like excited children - and yet the night before christmas he doesn't sleep, and he doesn't lock himself in the garage, either, and instead his feet carry him around the halls, followed by one of his robotic arm assistants from the garage to make up for his lacking one as they work together to complete his task; one of hanging strings of multi-coloured lights throughout all of the halls of the base to provide at least some sort of festive feeling to the base, and then he follows it up with a large, heavily decorated tree in each of the base's communal spaces, again helped along by the robotic arm - and, then, when everything is said and done, he snaps photos of everything to send to his brother and then heads back to the garage with a slight smile. ) Merry Christmas, Yeonsoo...

[24k]

4/50 reasons not to stan alphabat: sanha's hands

[whiteasravens]

[xm-fie]

Φ Save The Life No One Wants

((a/n: the 'training exercise' mentioned in this is the bh training exercise from earlier this year. i never ended up getting to actually write what happened so this is a condensed version of that and the aftermath.))

There was something so oddly enjoyable about leaving behind a mangled corpse. 

Sanha had had a gun on hand, of course, and he could have easily ended the life with a simple bullet between the eyes, but there was something significantly more satisfying about using his close combat weapon - an electrified metal staff - and his own bare hands to drag out the torturous death as long as possible. It was only fair, he reasoned, for him to match the years of torturous upbringing that she had forced onto him; years of neglect and verbal abuse, favouritism and bigoted hate, abandonment over a single fact that barely changed a single thing about them.

And so he emptied years of pent up rage into a body not built to take the abuse, and dragged it on as long as he could drag out the woman’s life - never his mother; he refused to acknowledge her as his mother.

It was easy, easier than it probably should have been to utterly destroy ones on flesh and blood, yet Sanha couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when he felt so light and free.

And then there was Yeonsoo’s voice, his brother calling to him, weak and shaky over the communications unit plugged into his left ear. He weaved through the maze walls on high alert, trying to detect where his brother and his target were inside the facility.

Darkness. Silence. Then his name rolling off of a tongue he knew far too well in a voice he’d been sure he’d never hear again. 

Frozen, heart pounding in his head. 

A moment’s grace and then a blinding light. 

Burning rippling through his body like a wave. 

An explosion by his head ringing in his ears.

- - -

Sanha woke with a start, cold sweat clinging to his body, his heart in his throat. He balanced his weight on one elbow, propped up on instinct at the feeling of falling he’d felt after jerking into a seated position. For a long moment, he did nothing but focus on his breathing, his slowly calming heart, the stinging pain in his side, the phantom pain of a limb no longer there.

He turned his head slightly, eyes falling to the bandages tied tight around his torso and over his shoulder and around what should have been an arm. He supposed it still technically was, in a way. It was just a little shorter than it used to be, severed by a blade far sharper than he’d ever witnessed in real life. A sword that could cleave through bone and catch into the side of his torso whilst in the hands of a human seemed impossible - and yet here he was, living proof that it wasn’t.

(And that it was very, very painful.)

Slowly, he sat himself up straight to free his hand so he could lift it and tenderly touch at the bandaged stump, a strangled sound like a whimper catching in his throat. Of course it was still sore. He really should have expected that. The knowledge didn’t stop him from doing it again, though, as though he were trying to figure out whether he was perhaps dreaming the entire thing from start to finish, or if it was actually reality.

A sigh fell from Sanha’s lips as he finally gave up on prodding the still healing wound and swung his legs out of bed. He knew it was real. Every night had been the same since the training exercise, plagued by nightmares, flashes of his ex-boyfriend’s face on the back of his eyelids and sharp phantom pains in the tips of fingers he no longer had. Even as he glanced at the warm body sharing the mattress with him, the peaceful expression on his brother’s face wasn’t enough to wipe away the memory of the cold expression Yeonsoo had worn as he expertly buried a clip into Hayong, or the cascade of tears that had followed in the Brotherhood’s morgue as the younger boy mourned their mother.

Another sigh, followed by a hiss at a stabbing pain in his side.

Thinking was going to have to wait until after he’d had his medication.

- - -

If he was honest, Sanha was actually surprised how easy it was to get used to having only an arm and a half, considering how labour intensive his job was. It was all thanks to his power, of course, and the help of his little brother for the things that he really couldn’t handle with only one hand, but within a couple of months, he was just used to it. He was left with a scarred stump, of course, and a bright white scar along his torso, but it soon become normal. Even the phantom feelings of the missing limb faded into numbness and he carried on as normal. His robotic assistants became vital in his work, and he perfected the art of computing without a keyboard at all, and life continued on with missions and meeting Dongwook’s demands and making sure that at least the garage was stocked and ready to cater for anything the other members needed.

It was five months after the training exercise before he was finally able to achieve what he had been aiming for, however. Prosthetics were not a foreign concept to Sanha. The medics of the organization had even mentioned them to him during his check ups on the healing wounds and he had turned them away - not because he didn’t like the idea of one, but because he didn’t like the idea of the ones currently available. Instead, he took to spending a lot of his downtime researching prosthetic limbs and human anatomy and robotics - anything to spark something in his mind and set off his intuition.

The first attempt was nothing to write home about. Neither was the second, or the third. There was always something off - too clunky, too disproportioned, too unresponsive to his power - but it didn’t discourage him. If anything, it simply motivated Sanha to keep going. He fell deeper and deeper into his research, keeping all of his prior mock ups to one side as a point of reference to remind himself what was working and what wasn’t. Fourth, fifth, sixth attempts followed, each with their own flaws but still better than the last.

By the tenth attempt, he actually had something useable - enough, at least, to practice with around the workshop and in small, everyday tasks. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

[holdmehoseok]

[jinnwan-blog]

So damn cute...

[fyeahalphabat]

[Teaser] AlphaBAT(알파벳) - 심통부려(Pass Out) #F:ie

[xm-fie]

Φ Winner Takes All [OPEN]

Times were rare that Sanha would set foot outside of the base, or even the garage. His brother was usually the main reason - if not almost the only reason - and Friday night racing had been the second.

The former had been easy to hold onto when it had become obvious that Inju was safer avoided than visited, and he had figured that that would be enough. He would be with his cars - well, the organization's cars - all day, everyday, and Yeonsoo would be there as well and that was all that he could ever ask for.

Or at least he had thought so.

And, yet, here he was, fitted jacket pulled around him and jeans hugging his legs and the entire styling was a lot more fitting than he wore around the base, but this was also something completely different to what he did in base.

He was surrounded by people, all of them loud and far too energetic for Sanha's liking but he managed to ignore them, even going so far as accepting a drink into the hand not spinning a set of car keys around one finger - his latest win.

The drink only lasted a couple of mouthfuls before he tossed the cup aside and headed up towards his original destination, snatching the microphone from the MC and declaring his challenge.

"For keeps, of course," Sanha added, the smirk on his face wide and his hand lifted as he continued to spin the keyring around his finger. "Winner takes all."

[xm-fie]

[txt] "axe murder you in your sleep" is not just the title of our hit single. be at the club in 30 seconds or sleep with one eye open tonight. (/minseok was amused. he's fine with sanha missing practice once a week to act like a goddamn rockstar but missing a gig is the pinnacle of betrayal for the drummer. everyone else pulls their own weight, and having minseok scramble to produce a back-up for sanha 30 minutes before their gig is no fucking bueno.)

[text] who pissed in your cereal?

( /he's not even with it enough to care that minseok is probably going to kill him - and he's perfectly aware that as tiny as the other male is, he's also perfectly capable of it - and the moment after he hits send, the phone is abandoned back on the bed and he's back to trying to get his pants back on which is easier said than done when there's another pair of hands trying to keep him out of them - but it only takes a short zap to get them to stop so he can finish getting dressed and goddamn fans are great because they're easy lays but he's pretty sure they could do with being a lot less clingy as well. )

[xm-fie]

"Just Go With It"

To participate in this script-rp based activity, you’ll need to treat it like any other inbox raid event. This time, however, the relationship between your character and the receiver is skewed and fictional. You have to send a script conversation (or a short para, it’s up to you, really) between the two characters with a completely made-up relationship. The receiver has to “go with it”, obviously, by responding to the ask as if they’re collaborating on a story. For example, if Sanha sent Chanyeol a script-rp excerpt pretending to be his long-lost sibling who found him after ten years, Chanyeol has to go along with it.

This is an opportunity for certain characters to create great relationships with others, as you’re more than welcome to use this chance to plot something crazy! Who knows, if you both like where the script’s going, you can set that relationship into stone! But mostly, it’s for the laughs. Try not to be too off-topic or nonsensically random, and send out as many as you can if you reblog this! Have fun!

[xm-fie]

A Post-It note is stuck to the wall next to your door. It's written in really tiny, but very neat ink. "You know that thing you like very much? That thing in the top drawer under your socks? That thing next to that big ass wrench that is definitely not a big ass wrench? I touched it by accident and it scared the bejesus out of me so you might-" A second Post-It note is right beneath it. "-want to avoid using it as I may have defensively squirted venom on it. My bad." It's signed with an H.

He's not expecting anything to be decorating his door - or the wall next to his door - when he finally forces himself to leave the garage and cross to the other side of the base to his room, mostly because people are too shit scared to get even close to trying to attack him directly, so his first reaction is to just stop and stare.

Sanha squints a little to read the small writing and rolls his eyes when he figures out what it says and he doesn't even care if his tools drawer is effectively marked with venom because he's more annoyed with the fact that now he has to find that damn bug and squish it dead for being in his room in the first place.

[fyeahalphabat]

[xm-wufan]

Gotta Do Whatcha Gotta Do

[xm-wufan]

Kris’ enthusiasm didn’t falter in the slightest bit at the other’s cold tone. He was just meeting the guy, and in his life time he’d met a lot of people who sounded cold at first but then turned out to be pretty chill. He only hoped that Sanha, or rather F:ie would be one of those people. And if he wasn’t well then oh well, he’d have to learn to deal. Though honestly with all the hype from the training, F:ie could be a total dick and he wouldn’t care as long as the other kicked ass at the training.

“Alright then F:ie.” Kris replied only to have F:ie turn away and leave without giving him much of a chance to say anything else. “Well okay then…” he muttered to his retreating back but shook his head and followed after him towards the training room where their training would start. As soon as both of them where standing in the large concrete room the doors all closed ensuring that no one would be leaving the room.

While they waited for the sentinel to come to life Kris had the water pouches on his hips open and spread the water so that it formed an armor of sorts around most of his body.  He stood in a defensive stance as the sentinel stood and towered a good two feet over him “Well then F:ie, What’s the plan?” 

[xm-fie]

This was pointless. So pointless. Completely and utterly pointless and there were so many better things that Sanha could be doing with his time - like fixing the car repair he was halfway through or do more work on the framework for the new jet or anything else that wasn't this. Because this was stupid and pointless and boring, and it didn't help that he had been stuck with someone who was too friendly for him to even want to bother to deal with.

(Not that there were very many people who didn't fit into that category - and he hated everyone who didn't anyway, so it wasn't like it made a hell of a lot of difference.)

The doors closed behind them to signal the start of the training and the mechanic felt his power spark as it detected the sentinel at the other side of the room powering up and moving a little closer. It was tempting - oh so tempting - to just turn it off then and there, but he resisted. Instead, he moved towards the sentinel and then to the side, picking a place against a wall to sit down and lean back against.

"I don't know," he said as he made himself comfortable, his power easily working to remotely rework the sentinel's programming and turn off one half of the DNA trackers installed in it's central computing - effectively making himself blind to the sentinel so it would only track Kris.

Sanha let his head lean back against the wall and he closed his eyes.

"It's your problem."