royal mayhem

     ”not so tight, woobin—” she peers down at her feet and ponders as to why she intentionally made him help her to tie her shoes. she could do it on her own — she most likely would’ve done it by herself but tis a quite nice feeling to have someone else do it. and being around woobin made things so much more simple. it’s nice to know that a certain person’s company will make everything easier and he had his ways of spoiling her.

     though she couldn’t complain about it as she found herself very fond of him and his presence. unlike others, she would never know what was going on in his mind and perhaps that mysterious part of him attracted her even more. never in a romantic way of course as she saw no need for such attachments just yet and neither seemed he to perk any specific interest in love. that also made him a great company and friend.

     ”it looks good now” she states happily and wiggles her feet a bit before standing up again from her taken seat. twirling around once or twice, she then kicks at the ground with her foot. “it feels great actually— i always tie my shoes too loose and i end up having to tie them over and over again.” and just like that, she hums contently and extends her tiny hand in his direction. “let’s go.”

She's always reminded him of his first love. The innocence is blinding, but something in those eyes is unsettling. She's terrifying, and he wants to escape, wants to walk away and never look back, but it's a self-destructive addiction he can't seem to shake. Sometimes he thinks he hates her. Sometimes he thinks he's addicted to her.

And sometimes, when he's high off of her smiles and saccharine voice, he thinks he might love her.

But really he's just in love with the idea of her, with the idea that his first love can be so properly fabricated in the body of a small girl who won't hurt him like Chaemi did, like Chaemi still does even though she's not around anymore.

"You want your shoe to fall off?" He grumbles as he finishes tying her shoe, ignoring her request of "not so tight." He's quick to stand straight after she twirls, and he can't stop the smile from climbing on his face as he watches her kick the ground.

"Exactly. See, you should follow after me more often. You'll save yourself the small troubles in life. How do you even survive?" He eyes her hand briefly, instinct wanting to take it in his own, but instead he pushes it down gently and begins walking off. "How far is this place anyway? I'm still not sure why I agreed to go with you. A man in a cat cafe? Either he's gay, or extremely whipped. You're putting my image on the line."

Sehun does not heal particularly fast without help. He is not some vampire whose wounds knit together as soon as they’re gashed. He is real; he is hurting. He sits there with the towel half draped over his tail, soaked here and there with blood, waiting for his legs to return so that he can walk away.

He doesn’t expect the doctor to come back until he’s left, but moments later the former reappears with a small box filled with things. He takes out something white, and Sehun stares as he begins wiping the blood away. Hesitantly, the merboy removes the towel to expose more of his tail with the caution of someone who thinks they’re being tricked.

He hears the earnestness in the doctor’s voice however, and shifts a little closer. “Just… just clean it and put a bandage on it, I guess,” he murmurs. Sehun is hardly an expert at first aid. With the healing property of mermaid tears at his disposal, why would he be? But he thinks that shedding a tear or two and magically healing would upset the doctor (and probably get him kicked out again), so Sehun decides instead to let himself be treated in the most mundane of ways. 

"I can't imagine bandages would be very comfortable on scales." His brow pulls together in a frown, so focused that he no longer appears in disbelief. "I know very little about how to heal a fish, but you're hardly a fish as it is... I suppose soaking in water with a slightly lower pH balance would speed it up, and adding an antibiotic to the water should clear up grounds for infection... Look at that, maybe I should have been a marine biologist." He allows himself a short moment of pride before flicking his gaze to the boy's face. "Then again, a few missing scales isn't much of an injury to panic over, right?"

It's as if he's changed into an entirely new person, his touch gentle and his voice soothing. Professionalism and quality care are rooted in him so deeply that he doesn't even recognize the change.

"I'm hesitant to put skin-safe adhesive on your scales, so I'm going to slab on some disinfectant and wrap it up with gauze wrap, okay? A little excessive, but it's better to be safe." He sets to work, lightly dabbing the disinfectant against the wounds, snugly wrapping it after. But as soon as it's finished, he stands and returns to the kitchen, muttering, "Don't expect me to feed you. You're lucky I let you back in."

[all] quirks my muse habitually has.

Writers, bold all of your character’s regular truths.

1. Smoking: the action or habit of inhaling and exhaling the smoke of tobacco or a drug. 2. Binge drinking: the consumption of an excessive amount of alcohol in a short period of time. 3. Drug abuse: the habitual taking of illegal drugs. 4. Nail biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 5. Lip biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 6. Night Owl: a person who is habitually active or wakeful at night. 7. Early bird: a person who rises, arrives, or acts before the usual or expected time. 8. Negative attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with criticism and pessimism. 9. Positive attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with optimism and confidence. 10. Swearing: the use of offensive language. 11. Superstitious: an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome. 12. Inspecting fingernails: a common body language sign of boredom. 13. Scratching your neck: a common body language sign of uncertainty. 14. Foot and finger tapping: a common body language sign of stress/impatience. 15. Nose touch: a subtle body language sign of deceit. 16. Flipping hair: a common body language sign of craving attention. 17. Twirling hair: a common body language sign of flirtation. 18. Cracking knuckles: a common body language sign of readiness. 19. Hands behind back: a common body language sign of confidence. 20. Finger pointing: a common body language sign of authority. 21. Hands on hips: a common body language sign of readiness. 22: Hands in pockets: a common body language sign of mistrust/reluctance. 23. Frequent touch: a common body language sign of warmth/familiarity. 24. Throat-clearing: a common body language sign of rejection/doubt. 25: Jaw-clenching: a common body language sign of hostility. 26: Eye-rolling: a common body language sign of irritation. 27: Head-tilt: a common body language sign of interest. 28. Whistling: to emit high-pitched sound by forcing breath through a small hole between one’s lips or teeth; usually to a tune. 29. Humming: make a low, steady continuous sound like that of a bee; usually to a tune. 30. Perfectionism: refusal to accept any standard short of perfection. 31. Photographic memory: the ability to remember information or visual images in great detail. 32. Paranoia: a mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self-importance, typically worked into an organized system. 33. Exaggeration: a statement that represents something as better or worse than it really is. 34: Intuitive: using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive. 35: Quick-witted: showing or characterized by an ability to think or respond quickly and effectively. 36: Interrupting: breaking the continuity of a conversation with one’s own statements. 37: Doodling: to scribble or make rough drawings, absentmindedly. 38: Irritable: having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed. 39: Gambling: to play games of chance for money; bet. 40: Travel-sick: suffering from nausea caused by the motion of a moving vehicle, boat, or aircraft. 41: Sensitive: having or displaying a quick and delicate appreciation of others’ feelings. 42: Melancholy: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause. 43: Chewing gum: the exercise of chewing flavoured gum which is not intended for swallowing. 44: Fidgeting: to make small movements, especially of the hands and feet, through nervousness or impatience. 45: Skeptical: not easily convinced; having doubts or reservations. 46: Neat-freak: compulsively obsessed with cleanliness. 47: Gossiping: divulging personal information about others. 48: Prim: feeling or showing disapproval of anything regarded as improper; stiffly correct. 49: Abbreviating: Giving others nicknames/shortening names/giving pet names. 50: Having a catchphrase: having a sentence or phrase typically associated with a specific person.

Survey #28; Bold what's true; Unique

ᴠɪɢᴏʀ

       She knew that they were only worrying over her— that they wanted to make sure that she was truly healthy. It had taken her staff and group members weeks until the idol-actress had finally agreed to go to the doctor. Nonetheless, she truly didn’t feel that it was necessary and it was likely that her visit would just end up a waste in the doctor’s time. However, if would give all those around her a peace of mind— it would be worth it so they could stop worrying over her.

       Her manager had accompanied her in, guiding her gently in the right direction towards the check-in counter. Without much say, she was quickly checked in, not given much leeway to even speak or say ‘I’m just here to prove that I’m okay.’ Instead her ever-so-trusty manager had said that her schedule had worn her out severely, the color in her cheeks was lacking, and her energy was easily depleted throughout the days. It might’ve been true, but Sunhwa believe that it would just be a passing phase— maybe all she needed to do was rest or eat?

       Without much of a wait, Sunhwa was called in. Taking the moment to tell her manager she would go alone, and despite his reluctance— he gave in. Guided by a nurse, she arrived into the patient room— there was nothing glamorous about it and it was plainly a room for any other routine check up. Bowing her head once at the nurse, she mounted herself up on the patient’s bed, frustrated digits running through her honey-brown locks.

       Swinging her feet off the bed, she sighed deeply, “This is a waste of time… Where is that doctor?”

He's always been surprised by the nation's obsession with visiting the hospital for minor issues that can be resolved at home with a bit of consideration and care, which is why he rolls his eyes at the chart that's recently been handed to him. Han Sunhwa, 1990, exhaustion and energy depletion. He wonders if the girl has possibly tried the age old curative component of sleep. Then again, the charted weight combined with her height is a red flag; he considers the possibility that she's another young woman starving herself into what she believes is the perfect body, but he tries to keep his judgments at bay.

"You called?" He asks as he enters the room, his reply so quick that it almost overlaps her inquiry. Without looking at her, he gives a brief bow and sets the chart on the counter, quick to settle himself on the wheeled stool. "Han Sunhwa. I'm Dr. Kim Woobin, and I guarantee my best services. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

He finally settles his eyes on her, starting from the top of her head and ending at her shoes. He notes the lacking pallor, the lifeless eyes, exhausted posture and--dare he say--bony limbs. And he realizes he's seen her before. Idol? Model? Public figure? He's unsure, but if his memory of her face isn't enough to confirm her status, her meticulously styled hair and choice of fashion for a visit to the hospital definitely is.

"You look positively wrung out," he states, returning to a standing position. "In fact, how about we take you to another room. I'll get you hooked up to an IV--it's nothing special, just a hydrating solution to get you feeling a bit better--, and we can talk about what's going on." He grabs her chart and heads to the door, motioning for her to follow.

Kikwang has two controllers in his lap. He’s playing a game of Puzzle League against himself. Which is just as sad as it sounds. But it speaks volumes on his ability to multitask because he has both hands on the first controller only and the other side is just coming straight from head to screen. The fact that he’s managing to outwit himself means that he’s either incredibly intelligent or a complete idiot — and it’s hard for him to figure out which. Or it means he’s finally starting to lose the sanest parts of himself. If it turned out to be a side effect from the constant use of his powers he wouldn’t be all too surprised. He also expects to get horrible brain cancer one day. He thinks it’s a good thing he knows a doctor. Surgeon or not. 

As if he’s thought him into existence, his phone beeps. It’s charging on the counter in the kitchen, but his interface is up and he sees that it’s Woobin. His eyes narrow at the harshness behind the words though he’s hardly offended. Such was the nature of their relationship. Kikwang gave as good as he got more often than not. He was quick, and he didn’t know how to shut up. Where Woobin was still, and quiet ( brooding if the opinion were left up to him) . Kikwang was energy bouncing off the walls. The contrast was a breeding ground for conflict. Strange that he thrived off of it. 

But he doesn’t take the text lightly. The hunting him down part is unsettling. Because there’s a likely chance that it’d happen, and though he didn’t think Woobin would come to his place, because no one ever did — he had no doubt that he’d pop up around one of Kikwang’s other haunts. Though tall and intimidating wasn’t the thing he was going for it was just the vibe Woobin gave off. So he pauses his game and he pulls on sneakers and a hat. Tops the whole thing off with phone and wallet and then follows the instructions on the text. It takes him twenty-five minutes to get there. He waits for another three just to piss him off but ultimately makes his way into the bar. Sitting down next to the doctor in complete silence. 

He doesn't bother responding to the two texts; whether the other actually shows up is not a true concern of his. In fact, the other not showing up would just provide him with more of a reason to chew the boy out. As he orders his second double scotch, he briefly checks the time, his nerves getting the better of him. Would the boy really not show?

He contemplates sending the other a threatening text, but the thought is short lived. As if on cue, Kikwang slides onto the stool next to him, keeping quiet.

"Took you long enough."

He keeps his words short, lithe fingers grabbing the cup as soon as it's placed down, and he takes a short sip. The previous drink is already causing his mind to buzz and his body to feel light. While he wants to attempt to make short conversation, the complications of his day drive him to start with the insults he can't seem to contain.

"You shouldn't spend so much time trying to look pretty, Kikwang. Wasted efforts, really. It won't work."