— sᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ

TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.
JIMIN: CHECK.
JAIJIN: CHECK.
EUNWOO: CHECK.
HOSEOK: CHECK.

[part 2]

Eunwoo didn't have any specific plans as he briskly walked down the street illuminated by neon lights. Without moving his head, his eyes flicked left and right, carefully assessing the pedestrians within a split second. The pleasant sound of jazz with laughter wafted through the street, polluting his senses. He couldn't concentrate. Along with that, the onslaught of a foreign language further threw him off track. He barely noticeably frowned. Was today going to be a bad day? This chance was rare to come by though. The island was too much of a closed off environment to have any fun, everyone new everyone some way or another. As the minutes passed without finding a good target, his mood grew more and more sour. Clicking his tongue in distaste Eunwoo finally came to a stop, pulling his hood a little further down as a young girl peered at him curiously. He was itching to kill, his hands were aching to penetrate his preys body, accompanied by a beautiful orchestra of squelching noises as their insides were sliced apart. ..Ah! He needed a weapon. Eunwoo almost tripped while standing still at the thought. How could he have possibly forgotten about that?! He didn't know whether to laugh at himself or be angry. He opted for the latter, further dampening his spirits. Today truly was a bad day. Clicking his tongue once more, he let his gaze sweep his surroundings one last time before he chose to move on. Where to? The market. They probably sold kitchen knives or something of the like. He couldn't believe himself. He had forgotten about the weapon. Sigh.

[ Part 4 ]

Two figures slipped into the shadows provided by the looming buildings. The main attraction of the festival was out in the open, under the harsh and unforgiving rays of the sun, not in the cool, dark and deserted alleyways. J-Hope selected a particular alley with a dead-end, hoping against all odd that their meeting would go undisturbed.

Myunjae, who was striding along beside him, had not changed much since their last contact. His chocolate brown hair still spilled past his shoulders, the strands wayward and at times dancing in the light breeze. Tall but skinny, the only difference in the man was that he resembled someone who was heading the path of drug-withdrawal. His skin was pale, patchy in places; the previously sharp and alert eyes were sunken in and hollowed, like a part of his soul was used in exchange for keeping himself breathing; his steady hands now trembled ever so slightly (only keen eyes like J-Hope's would be able to tell). Really, Myunjae was both the same and not the same.

"I.. would ask how you're faring but your current state and readiness have given me enough information. If you don't wish to share, I'm perfectly alright, as long as you withdrawing information does not harm our chances of success," J-Hope got the point right away once the two men were seated on a couple of discarded wooden boxes. Myunjae simply smiled, displaying a row of lightly yellowed teeth. J-Hope could only imagine the things this man must have gone through to be so ready to join him on this mission. "Thank you for your understanding. I'm assuming from your lack of beating around the bush, you're either in a hurry to get this over with or you're anxious. Which I understand. So either way, let us discuss the details," replied the man with the slightly raspy voice. J-Hope only flashed a small smile of his own, nodding in agreement.

By the time they were down laying out the mission objectives, the shadows were already becoming longer and darker. The details were engraved into their memories now, since recording them down on paper or memory chip was out of option. If they were able to succeed with climbing this mountain, a lot of burden was going to be lifted off of their shoulders. Both males looked forward to seeing this day end, one way or the other.

TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.
JIMIN: CHECK.
JAIJIN: CHECK.

[ 2 / 10 anonymous ]

There's something in the air. Maybe it's just Jaijin, or maybe it's the sweat of hundreds of bodies all packed together like sardines in a can. The celebration taking place in the street is loud, overtly so, and Jaijin desperately wants to find it in himself to be annoyed. The energy is so palpable that, while he's not necessarily enjoying the party, he can't hate it one bit. That is, until someone bumps into him quite harshly, and the deft fingers of a female without a shirt find their way against his collarbone. Jaijin barely escapes with his clothes intact and a new set of purple and gold beads decorating his throat.

Letting out another empty sigh he feels for the note in his pocket and is reminded of his mission for even being out here in the first place. He lets himself take another look to the road but shakes his head. Too busy, too open. His gaze then extends to the sidewalk on which he strolls, to the alleys and the people sitting plainly in chairs and on benches. There has to be someone...

Ah-ha.

Just ahead of him, turning into the mouth of an alley, is a plain woman with long brown hair. Jaijin jogs to catch up, taking one last look around at the parade before dipping into the opening between the buildings. Suddenly, everything seems much quieter.

Watching carefully he sees a shadow rounding the corner. He walks slowly, careful to be quiet but also make it seem as if it's perfectly explainable for him to be in here. As he moves through the first leg of the maze Jaijin takes his time to explore the sides of the businesses and homes. Graffiti art details large slabs of brick, while trash heaps cover up dusty, cracked windows and rats scurrying about in the faux cities. For some reason the drab grunge of the alley brings a smile to Jaijin's face. It's certainly not his favorite area of the city, but it's a place he could get used to if need be. Eventually the stroll moves on and he's walking faster in order to catch up to the woman, whom he realizes has gotten farther ahead.

He can only wait to see her exit the alley system at another mouth, this time one filled with light and the smell of the salty ocean. Jaijin curses his slowness and exits as well. He finds himself standing on the other side of a street that borders the gulf, teeming with aqua blue as far as the eye can see. Jaijin turns his head away from the picturesque scene to watch the woman enter the crowd. He sighs once more, turning back to the mixture of boats and docks lining the water.

Next time. Next time.

oo4

I stumble onto the busy streets of New Orleans as the parade was getting ready to start, and I seemed to be the only one in a lacy bodice. After killing the witch, I stole some of her clothes so I wouldn’t look like a mass murderer with the clothes I had on earlier. The attire didn't make much of a difference since people were stopping in their place to stare at my flamboyant get up and unnaturally pale complexion before walking by, not without stealing a few more quick glances my way. I didn’t care much, to be honest I thought I looked pretty nice in the outfit.

I hiked up my dress as I scurried through the streets looking for something. The charm I now had around my neck was uncharacteristically warm against my exposed chest, with whispers filling my head. I knew this type of magic wasn’t the least bit scientific, and that conclusion scared me but I couldn’t help but follow its directions. Apparently I had to look for a key. But where the was it?

@jeongguk j. 〈 jeon |H| TAEHYUNG: CHECK.
SEHUN: CHECK.

[ 4 ]
But he would. He’d forget her as he walks down the street. Feet scraping softly against the gravel, toes catching along the rocks and his hands tucked deep into his pockets. His belly sat heavy, now suddenly regretting eating so much. He was going to get fat. The sodium intake from that steak so high he might develop high cholesterol. A shudder passes through him as he limps along the street. Idly, hands diving into his pockets and fingers crinkling the paper that was a near constant reminder in his head now.

His fingers unfurl from the paper he was very near close to ripping, leaning against the wall of a random building. He needs to gather his thoughts for a moment. Taking note of the anonymous threat sent to hm – no, not a threat, most definitely a promise. There wasn’t anyone that knew he was here, so if he was here, and he received that note in such a sneaky manner .. That meant .. His eyes close and he takes a deep breath, head lolling back and resting against the damp wall of the abandoned shop.

Exposure. He felt like an old film reel, needing to be submerged in certain lights to properly show one’s contents, lest they be shown to the world with light scars. Burns from the heat of regular lamps being too much, picture fuzzy with lines crossing through here and there. But this exposure was much more lethal. But who.. Who was the question? The phantom pain in his neck linger like a mosquito, pinching at him and ripping his skin, his fingers trembling trepidation bringing them to rise to the XS that’s marked deep into him. Into his soul.

Into his being.

XS.

The letters bring a bubbling sense of unease to him, and almost all over again, he feels like he’s being followed. With quick, jerky movements, Taehyung is pushing himself from the wall and limping quickly down the street. Hugging the lampposts, staying close to the road in the need to cross suddenly, constantly looking over his shoulder. His heart flutters against his ribcage - feeling like he was drowning. Continuously lifting his head above the water only to be pulled back down, threatening to be swallowed by the depths below.

Taehyung’s eyes squeeze shut as he rounds the corner, and when they open –

He sees lights.

[] Part 3 of Shixuns story


Sehun wouldn't say he was a big fan of Jazz, but he had to admit, it had its charm. It mixed with neon lights, flashing across his skin and painting it blue and pink, almost like bruises littering his porcelain face. His head was still swimming, as if his thoughts were spinning inside of it, dragging him down memory lane further and further until he wasn't sure, he really wanted to leave it again. What would be so bad about going home? About turning around and limping his way back into the church, telling his mother "yes, it's me mom, look at me".
His leg was slowing him down, making it a mission of its own to even walk down Bourbon street on his way to Cafe Du Monde to meet with the person who had slipped him the meeting place earlier at the parade. It was nearly impossible to walk by now, each step feeling like someone was shoving a burning iron along the bone of his thigh, making him grimace. People were shooting him looks already when they passed him, turning their heads to watch him limping down the sidewalk, grimacing and cursing under his breath.
It was as if they were getting some kind of entertainment out of it, whispering to each other as soon as they thought he was out of earshot. Back in the day, he had turned heads because of different reasons. Now, it was because he was struggling. It was ironic, really.
How people tended to look at those less fortunate not because they were pitying them, but because they were getting this twisted kind of thrill out of it. Curiosity, a knife that tended to cut both sides.

What if he would stop here? What if he turned around and walked away, or into one of the bars along the street, to have a beer? Would it change a thing? He wasn't so sure about that. Because even though seeing his mother had felt like affirmation, a good enough reason to pull through with his plan, a part of him didn't want to.
Not doing it..... would set him free. But could he really sit back and watch? Probably not and yet a small part of him yearned for just that. It would take away the biggest burden, the reason he had to hide - the only thing that was haunting him and forcing him to play dead instead of seeking revenge and slaughtering them all, one after the other. Wouldn't it be nice to be alive again?

He stopped for a moment, breathing out through his mouth to release the tension that was pulling the muscles in his torso taut underneath his skin, stiff leg dragging him to the side and against the cool wall of a brick building. His head thumped against the stone as he closed his eyes, balling his fists and trying to relax his leg, the scraggy scar left behind from a bullet throbbing in prostest, the bone underneath burning like glowing coals.
".", the raven head whispered at himself as he opened his eyes again, looking over to a bar on the other side of the street, the neon sign above the door almost too tempting to resist. It would be so easy... so ing easy. No. He couldn't. He had left the safety of the island for this, was risking his own life for this already. What kind of man would he be?

He could not let this man murder his entire family. The family that gave him a reason to fight, to keep living.

OPEN