#mi:unaffiliated
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, PARK JISUNG .
He was born on FEBRUARY 5TH, 2002 as PARK JISUNG. This eighteen-year-old is a PICKPOCKET, LOOKOUT and CASHIER at 7/11. His allegiance lies with no one.
TW PARENTAL DEATH, CHILD ABUSE
WHO ARE YOU?
“Park Jisung,” he answered the question straightforward, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat. He never did well in job interviews, they always seemed to ask the questions he never really had any good answers for. “I’ve just turned eighteen and I live at home with my parents and little sister, Jinah,” he smiled through the lie, almost as if it came too easy for him to tell. It was one he had told countless times to countless people. So much so that he almost started believing it was true. No one knew the real truth, his parents were dead, had been for almost three years. They didn’t that he was Jinah’s only carer, how they lived in some shitty room where he struggled to the pay the rent every month. They didn’t know how he had to pull himself and his sister away from an abusive uncle, how he had to get mixed up in the criminal scene just to make ends meat. The lie was just easier to tell, and he did so with ease.
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
“Through the door?” He sounded a little uncertain, dropping his eyes down to his lap for a moment. He knew that wasn’t the question they were really asking. “I got here through hard work,” he eventually settled on, lifting his gaze up again, “And a lot of it.” And they really had no idea how much hard work he put in just to stay alive, just to keep Jinah safe. But he could never go into detail about how much work he did, not unless he wanted all the lies he had been telling the past three years to unravel.
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PROFILE LOADED...「KIM JINHONG」「U/A」「EIGHTEEN」
“Eighteen-year-old STUDENT. No known allies.”
✘ THREAT LEVEL LOW. NO PRECAUTIONS NECESSARY...
WARNING: KIDNAPPING AND RAPE OF A MINOR, PTSD, DEPRESSION, SELF-HARM, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, BLOOD, GORE
[ BACKGROUND... ]
Jinhong had a very good upbringing. Though his parents were loving, he had a good home and was well looked after, he was always different. He never spoke much, even as a baby he cried an awful lot less than other babies might. His parents were, of course, very worried about it, but after taking him to countless therapists and doctors, no one could determined why he didnt like talking. It was not that he didn’t know how to, it was just that he preferred the silence.
It was hard for him to make friends in school, most of his time just spend silently doing his work and keeping to himself on the playground. It was why his parents tried to push him into sports from a young age, in the hopes that it might break him out of his shell and help him meet new people. Maybe even help him break his silence. The latter didnt really work.
His parents made him tried everything in the hopes that he would find something, but in the end only one thing really stuck.
He enjoyed running and was actually rather good at it. His parents made him join a cross-country club when he was seven years old and in that environment he only thrived. While he still didn’t speak much, he said all he had to in the times he was putting up, braking multiple different age group records the club held, and doing just as well in school competitions after his school found out about his skill after his parents blabbed to them about it. Not that Jinhong mind, he liked running and no one tried to talk to him, which was a bonus.
In school, he was a diligent student, never really getting into trouble because he was never disrupting anyone as he remained silent and only listened. He continued to pull in trophies and medals for himself and the school because of his cross-country, even having his picture up on their sporting hall of fame outside the gym.
How he started getting himself mixed up in gang business when he was only fifteen is something not many people are sure about. It was like he just appeared and started running things for them without any questions or complaints. One rumour says he saw something he wasn’t suppose to on the way back from school and he agreed to work for the gang so they spared his life. Another talks about how it was his father who had a gambling problem and he’s doing it to try and protect him and to keep him safe. One even states that he’s a plant and filters off information to a rival.
Why he is in the gang is is just one story that he is not going to tell, the only one who knows his true intentions and how he got involved is the gang leader. Everyone else is left guessing about the kid in their ranks who still doesn’t say very much. All they know about him is that he is very good at running things through the streets of Seoul from point A to point B and getting it done without drawing any attention to himself.
But things changed.
On the way home, he was kidnapped off the streets when he was only seventeen years old and taken by a pimp looking for some new stock. He was held captive, chained up in his apartment for a month while he was trained unwillingly to be a prostitute for his kidnapper. After a month of raping and beatings he was finally deemed trained enough not to cause any trouble and then shoved out to do his job and not step a toe out of line unless he wants to be punished.
And his new pimp made quite a lot of money off him, he was certainly one of the favorites. Jinhong was too broken and had retreated too far into his own head. Too terrified of what might happen if he disobeyed to test his limits. For months he was silent, keeping his head down and simply not trying to get into trouble. He was nothing but a mere shell of the kid he had been before all of this. The whole world just thought he was dead, only his parents still believe his is alive and out there, they still put up missing posters all over Seoul in the hopes he will come home.
But life changed again in the middle of January the next year just after he had turned eighteen. The SPD had managed to catch onto his kidnapper and the whole thing was shut down. Jinhong was found, rescued by the police and sent back home to his family. Though it had been seven months of hell and it had taken it’s toll on him, he’d been trumatized beyond belief. He struggled to cope with it all and getting back into everyday life, going into a spiral of depression brought on by PTSD and many sleepless nights trying to deal with nightmares.
Eventually, he felt like he couldn’t deal with it anymore and took a blade to his arm.
It was the first and only time he ended up hurting himself, the attempt ending with him almost simply bleeding out on his bathroom floor when he finished and had no will left to stop the blood. He only barely made it through, his mother coming home at just the right moment to catch him before he passed out, making a call to the emergency services. They managed to save his life, but only just.
After that, his mother started forcing him to seeing a therapist, but there hasn’t been a single session where he’s actually said anything, just sitting there in silence no matter what questions he was asked. While he has no more desire to try hurting himself again because he found it didn’t make him feel any better, he’s a long way from behind fixed and quite honestly doesn’t think that he ever will get better.
[ BEHAVIOR... ]
Jinhong is a hard person to read and get along with, any conversations you might happen to want will probably end up incredibly one sided. He doesn’t speak to anyone, not at all anymore, only opening his mouth when he really has to, and even then his responses are normally rather short and to the point. He used to have a stubbornness to him, that childish arrogance that always hangs over most people his age. While it was beaten out of him, it has started to make a return in stubborn glares to try and make people leave him alone.
Though he has changed, flinching at sudden movements and scared of dark alleyways and who could be lurking in them. And the nightmares and memories of what happened to him keeping him up for most of the night tossing and turning, tears shining in his eyes as he desperately tries to bury the past memories from coming back to haunt him. And no longer will he let strangers or even his friends touch him, shying away from any and all skin contact possible, the only people he will allow to hold him is his parents. Kim Jinhong is just the shell of the boy he used to be, keeping all his emotions locked away inside his head to fester during many sleepless nights.
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, PARK HYERIN .
She was born on NOVEMBER 16TH, 1995 as PARK HYERIN, but you might know her as EVE. This twenty-four-year-old is a HITWOMAN FOR HIRE and BARTENDER at MOONWALKERS. Her allegiance lies with no one.
TW KIDNAPPING, RAPE, NSFW, ABUSE, TORTURE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
WHO ARE YOU?
then:
a dropbox baby. unwanted. unloved.
her earliest memory is of an orphanage, small and cramped and bursting at the seams.
she doesn’t know when it started—the silence—but she doesn’t talk. not when the matrons ask her questions ( who are you? where are you from? what’s your name? why won’t you talk? ) and not when the other children poke and prod, tease and taunt.
she’s tuned out the world. floating through life, merely existing on the edge.
instead, she finds sanctuary in dog-eared books with yellowing pages and blacked out text, plants roots in the corner of rooms and behind crowds.
this is how she grows up: like a ghost—quiet and unseen. always lingering at the periphery. always on the outskirts of conversation.
…
she was happy once.
until one day, she disappears.
…
now:
the girl who lived. an enigma. cold. unpredictable.
she has no memories this time ( or so it seems ). no answers for the gossips who come frothing at the mouth with questions ( where have you been? what happened to you? how are you alive? why won’t you talk? ); not even for the MPD who come skulking in, wearing their justice hearts and self-proclaimed righteousness on their sleeves. she has nothing for them, but silence.
it’s familiar. safe. hers.
she does not speak.
she does not hear.
she does not see.
…
to the world, her existence is a miracle.
to her, she is nothing more than a walking death sentence.
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
SEE NO EVIL.
exhibit a: a backalley, poor timing, a crime in progress.
…
when she wakes, she is in a dirty cell with no windows.
there is no interrogation. no, that comes much, much later. ( when she begged for mercy, when she begged for death. )
instead, they rob her of the little things first: light, food, noise, time. they give her food at the oddest hours of the day, turn the lights on and off when she least expects it, blast white noise and headache-inducing sounds whenever she so much as closes her eyes for longer than ten minutes.
it doesn’t occur to her how much time passes as she wastes away.
not until she wakes in the middle of the night to locks turning and a hand on her face.
when she comes to, she locks eyes with the devil.
…
all she remembers after is darkness and silence.
always.
…
HEAR NO EVIL.
exhibit b: chains clanging, guttural chokes, a whispered secret.
…
the questions come in cycles—no rhyme, no reason, no ramble.
they know by now that no one is coming for her. she’s no one important. just another pretty-face LUMIN8 waitress. a civilian, unassuming and invisible.
it’s only marginally surprising that she’s not dead.
it must be amusing for them to see how much she’s clinging, how desperately she still holds onto the last remaining shred of her sanity, her dignity.
for all their talk, no one has come close enough to get a confession.
not even the devil himself.
and for that, she goes from invisible to intriguing.
…
SPEAK NO EVIL.
exhibit c: drunken laughter, oily taunts, dirty hands and dirtier mouths.
…
she wakes up to blood on her thighs, her hands, her face.
there’s a body lying on top of her, his head turned unnaturally at an angle. she does not cry. not even when her skin crawls when she realizes someone is watching her from a corner of the cell.
it’s him.
not the devil. his right hand. the executioner.
she does not know his name. if she did, she’s forgotten it. just like she has everything else.
he tells her it’s an accident. she does not ask if he means the loss of her innocence or the body he disposes of or the bloody knife he finds shoved beneath the dirty mattress.
he asks her if she remembers what happened.
she tells him nothing. only looks at him. still naked, half lucid.
a door creaks somewhere in the distance and she lets the darkness take her just before someone steps into view.
you did well, park hyerin.
eventually, she forgets that too.
…
exhibit d: sunlight, open space, crowds, too many holes.
…
they find her bloody and half-dead with threadbare clothes hanging off her body and no shoes behind yebae church.
she’s jane doe until her fingerprints and dental records come back positive for one park hyerin: former LUMIN8 waitress, missing and presumed dead.
…
it’s been three years.
she doesn’t even blink.
the detective clears his throat and shifts in his chair. he asks questions she has no answers to. his partner is decidedly frustrated when an hour passes and they still come up empty.
he loses his temper. she doesn’t flinch. just stares. and stares and stares until he curses, hand dipping into his back pocket and stalks out of the room.
she watches him go until a voice pulls her attention back.
hyerin.
no response. it’s as though her name doesn’t register at all. she simply turns her head, meets his eyes, and waits.
what happened to you?
a clock ticks. silence blooms. tick tock. tick tock. tick—
she says nothing.
when he leaves, she stares after him. eyes shadowed and forever haunted.
…
i love—
—die…don’t!
hye…rin!
such a pretty mouth…
rin-ah…i…
bitch! i’ll kill—
rin, please…
shh…hey, it’s me…it’s okay.
promise me…please just…
liar!
always—take care of you.
…
THERE’S NO ESCAPE WHEN THE EVIL IS YOURSELF.
there are gaps in her memories.
it’s nothing new. she’s learned to live with it—the shadows, the distorted whispers, the mismatched way her brain tries to fix itself.
it doesn’t explain the fading callouses on her fingers, the scars on her wrist and slashed across her palm, the spider web of thinly faded tendrils blooming at center mass, the graceful, almost deadly way she moves. there’s a cold, ruthless edge to her lips now, like death clings to her shoulders, bleeding from her eyes.
her files are empty, save for the police reports and medical records detailing the amount of damage her body is still reeling, still healing from.
eventually, she slips from person of interest back to invisible wraith.
she floats through life. just like she used to.
here, yet not.
always lingering, merely existing.
waiting and waiting and waiting.
…
what are you waiting for?
death.
…
hello, park hyerin.
( death is here. )
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, CHOI SOOBIN .
She was born on AUGUST 13TH, 1995 as CHOI SOOBIN, but you might know her as ENIGMA. This twenty-four-year-old is an UNDERCOVER INTEL GATHERER and EMPLOYEE at WILD-FLOURS. Her allegiance lies with no one.
TW KIDNAPPING
WHO ARE YOU?
“it’s only going to be some quick questions, we will be done soon, you’ll see” the officer says, still a tentative look in his eyes.
“of course, please go on, i won’t mind” she smiles just as she’s expected to do, the small smile that lights her eyes in a way that makes her look helpless yet inviting.
“perfect, first one is easy: please, tell me who you are”
she can’t help but chuckle a bit, after all this time. “my name is choi soobin, i’m twenty-four years old and i was born here, in yeongi” she recites her answer almost as if it was a mantra.
“well done, it’s good that you remember that-”
“august the 13th”
“excuse me?”
“that’s my birthday, i thought you might want to know that too” she smiles for a second time, as sweetly and soft as before.
“of course, thanks. can you tell me a bit more about yourself?”
“well, i graduated from high school here too and then started working at the lumin8 club as a bartender” she nods at her own answer and pretends not to notice how he starts scribbling the moment she says the club’s name. expected.
“what can you tell me about your job? what were you expecting to do afterward?” he raises his eyes to her face and she recognizes the look immediately, he’s trying to size her up, take note of any reaction from her part. thus, she presses her lips as if pounding.
“being sincere, i don’t know. it was not my dream job, that’s for sure, but i didn’t have big plans either. and it was a good place, they were nice to me” most of the time she wants to add, but that’s not part of the rehearsed answer, and she doesn’t want to raise more questions to that topic. not when everything is going just as planned.
“you are young still, there’s plenty of time for you to figure” he concedes. she smiles again, the third time now, and he reciprocates, a compassionate look in his eyes. he’s hers now. “well, and what about after the club, what you did?”
“i don’t know” she lies, partially at least.
“ok, and can you tell me how you’ve come back here?”
“i also don’t know that” a lie again. she averts her sight, almost as if scared of something, but then looks back at the man. “mr. officer, i know what you want me to tell” she continues, her voice now lowered to almost a whisper. big doe eyes, full of uncertainty and sorrow, asking for his understanding. if he only knew how empty she’s inside… “i’m sorry to disappoint, but i really don’t remember what happened that day either” and, for the first time, she’s not lying at all.
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
they find her one evening in the main road traversing the island, walking barefoot and disoriented, and they take her to the hospital with no delay. so kind and so sweet for that couple to take care of her, she takes notice to go and visit them with a gift when she’s done with all that nonsense. the examinations are positive, as expected, there are no signs of harm to her body (save for a long scar in her side, old and already healed) and she is perfectly healthy. no reasons to worry, if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s recognized as choi soobin, the girl that disappeared years ago and was considered dead. and that she remembers absolutely nothing.
of course, this only but gathers more attention to her surprise apparition. people are drawn to drama. and even from her bed at the hospital, she’s able to read what each visitor’s been thinking about her. “she probably got herself pregnant and went to sell the baby to a rich family” “i heard she was involved with drugs or something like that” “poor girl, she probably was at the wrong place at the wrong time” “well, wasn’t she known for being very nice to her customers, at the club?”. disgusting, confusing, expected. but, as with everything, it’s only a matter of time for the news to die out and for people to move on to a different topic.
and so days go by at the hospital. lost in her empty mind. answering questions she doesn’t know where they come from. (”no, i don’t remember my name” “no, i don’t know what i’m doing here” “no, i don’t know what happened”).
that is until the phone she’s been given one day rings. a static sound breaks when she picks it up and, then, a muted voice. “it’s time to remember your name, enigma”. the call finishes without further explanation and she leaves the phone at the nightstand, all back to normality. but that morning, when the doctor comes to ask her the very same questions, she smiles. “my name is choi soobin, thanks for taking care of me”. they discharge her that very same day.
she knows she’s still not done with it yet, the police will come, they will want to ask her more questions, they won’t be satiated with the empties she’s giving, but this is still better than to try and forge a fake history. and even them will forget too, just like they did back in the day. “don’t worry, you are ready for this”. she knows that too, that’s why she’s there, that’s the only reason she’s come back and the only thing she’s certain about.
the phone rings a second time when she’s at her new place, back home after having found her new job. “you can move to the next phase. no traces, do what you need to do”. she nods, ending the call without uttering a word, then opens the phones with a swift movement, breaks its internal parts and trashes it in a bin. she’s ready and she has a job to do.
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, HONG XING .
He was born on MARCH 13TH, 2000 as HONG XING, but you might know him as APOLLO. This twenty-year-old is a THIEF, STUDENT at MYEONGCHO UNIVERSITY, PART-TIME BARTENDER at THE GROTTO and PART-TIME EMPLOYEE at BIMIL CONVENIENCE. His allegiance lies with no one.
TW PARENTAL DEATH, IMPLIED ABUSE
WHO ARE YOU?
“yeah yeah, I got it, i’ll finish editing it soon promise! let me just finish my shift! bye bye now!”
xing had to do so much to earn enough money to help him live an at least stable life. he had so much to do since he had five jobs and he was a double major at myeongcho university.
but now that he has a somewhat stable life, he now only has two jobs, and in his option that’s all he needs in his already chaotic life.
hong xing left his family for his father’s sake. his mother remarried when his father died, and his step-father was just.. not good. he was mean, possessive, and wanted everything to go his way. xing just couldn’t handle it anymore so he worked hard to get into myeongcho university to get away from him.
he left his home with some money, clothes and some food, and now this is where he’s at to survive.
a couple jobs and a small dorm room.
“have a good day!”
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
“i ran away silly~” he said with a bright smile before frowning, “I’m kidding.”
he didn’t really run away from his home, but he did escape from the hell called his home though. although he loved his mother, he hated his step father.
now he has two jobs and he has a stable life.
something that his family didn’t have.
xing was happy to be there, and he didn’t know what shit he was getting into. even though he wasn’t apart of any gang~
“i live my life how i want to~ no one is pulling the strings to my life and i don’t have that asshole of a man that i have to call my step-father to control me.”
the room goes silent…
“i miss you dad… I hope you’re happy..”
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, HONG XING .
He was born on MARCH 13TH, 2000 as HONG XING, but you might know him as APOLLO. This nineteen-year-old is a THIEF, STUDENT at MYEONGCHO UNIVERSITY, PART-TIME BARTENDER at THE GROTTO and PART-TIME EMPLOYEE at BIMIL CONVENIENCE. His allegiance lies with no one.
TW PARENTAL DEATH, IMPLIED ABUSE
WHO ARE YOU?
“yeah yeah, I got it, i’ll finish editing it soon promise! let me just finish my shift! bye bye now!”
xing had to do so much to earn enough money to help him live an at least stable life. he had so much to do since he had five jobs and he was a double major at myeongcho university.
but now that he has a somewhat stable life, he now only has two jobs, and in his option that’s all he needs in his already chaotic life.
hong xing left his family for his father’s sake. his mother remarried when his father died, and his step-father was just.. not good. he was mean, possessive, and wanted everything to go his way. xing just couldn’t handle it anymore so he worked hard to get into myeongcho university to get away from him.
he left his home with some money, clothes and some food, and now this is where he’s at to survive.
a couple jobs and a small dorm room.
“have a good day!”
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
“i ran away silly~” he said with a bright smile before frowning, “I’m kidding.”
he didn’t really run away from his home, but he did escape from the hell called his home though. although he loved his mother, he hated his step father.
now he has two jobs and he has a stable life.
something that his family didn’t have.
xing was happy to be there, and he didn’t know what shit he was getting into. even though he wasn’t apart of any gang~
“i live my life how i want to~ no one is pulling the strings to my life and i don’t have that asshole of a man that i have to call my step-father to control me.”
the room goes silent…
“i miss you dad… I hope you’re happy..”
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 SON HYEJOO 》
“SON HYEJOO is a seventeen-year-old HACKER and HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT that goes by the alias CL4W.”
TW ALCOHOLISM
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
hyejoo looks up from her (hidden) phone at the interviewer with a blank look on her face. the question wasn’t something she’s never heard before, especially since she figured someone would be amazed at the fact that this was who she was. from her history as a hacker, she knew people expected to see someone else more intimidating rather than a teenage girl. but that’s the perk of having a secret identity.
that mindset was kind of problematic, though. for as long as she’s been doing this, she never specified anything specific about who she was when she was doing her work. there was really no point in doing that anyway, since she’s never made any actual acquaintances in the hacking industry. she was sort of the lone wolf when it came to business. she’s thankful that she has a name and a reputation in it, but for people to assume that she’s a male because of the fact that she was better than some experts? it felt insulting.
so when she sees the police officer ask her the question, looking a little puzzled over her identity, she couldn’t help but smirk. it’s the only thing that makes the whole situation amusing because this was already planned out in her head. but for her to actually have to see it? it was hilarious. “son hyejoo,” she answers finally. “student at myeongmoon high, but i don’t think that’s the answer you wanted to hear.” she sighs as she relaxes in her seat, showing no care for the situation at all despite how extreme it could be. “you know who i am. i wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, right?”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“my dad and mom split, so we were forced to move here while my mom and my sister stayed in the americas,” she answers with a small shrug. “not a big deal. i was too young to even understand what the split meant. all i knew was that my dad didn’t want to be around my mom anymore and i didn’t ask anything else about it.” there’s a silence that follows afterwards instead of another question, making hyejoo realize what this man was asking. “oh. you want the reason to me being here,” she corrects herself.
she debates on whether she would reveal that much to a stranger. even if it was the cops, she wasn’t exactly fond of giving them what they want. they wanted to get her behind bars somehow, despite her still being a child. they wanted to get her to be vulnerable and explain her whole entire backstory. but if she were to do that, she’d basically be going against her reason for why she even became cl4w in the first place and hyejoo wanted to stick to her reason for as long as she lived.
ever since she’s moved to myeongcho, all she ever did was obey everyone. whenever her dad told her to clean a room he made a mess in with empty beer bottles and cans, she had no other choice but to comply. whenever she confronted him about an issue, she was told to shut up and go to her room to reflect on her mistakes and she wouldn’t give it a second thought before she went upstairs to do so. all throughout elementary and middle school, she had to let the other kids pick on her for being quiet and weird. and when she saw comfort in taking care of a stray cat, she gets a scratch on her neck and does nothing but take it, peacefully putting the cat down on the ground so that it could run away from her.
when she wore a bandage around it to school the next day, she gets made fun of and it’s when she realizes she’s had enough. after countless days of going into the library rather than immediately going home after school, the work of reading through books about programming was finally going to pay off. no longer was she going to let herself be controlled by other’s words and actions. that night, when her father was out working, she used the computer to post an embarrassing image onto one of her bully’s facebook page. she didn’t think it would be successful until the next day, everyone else was picking on them instead of her. and since then, she has been making people’s lives hell on the digital world for not only herself but for others as well for a promising price. no longer was she the doormat. she was the combat boots that repeatedly stomped on it until she could make sure it was nothing more than dirt and broken rubber pieces.
and if the police were her next opponent, she’ll make sure that she’ll turn this doormat into nothing else but just the last two letters in “welcome”.
“do more research on me, boomer,” she spits out before fully relaxing herself and throwing her feet onto the table, using it as a footrest. “you’ll find a story, but not mine."
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, JUNG HOSEOK .
He was born on FEBRUARY 18TH, 1996 as JUNG HOSEOK, but you might know him as HELIOS. This twenty-three-year-old is a MECHANIC, DRIVER and EMPLOYEE at BARAE MOTORS. His allegiance lies with no one.
WHO ARE YOU?
This was an expected question for an interview, but somehow he still drew a blank when faced with this question. Of course, Hoseok knew who he was and he was confident in that fact, in any other situation he would be ready to give his introduction that usually never failed him. However, this was an interview that could forever leave an impression on how he was as a person, he needed to play it cool… relax Hoseok… just relax. This was an interview for a mechanics shop for god’s sake, it wasn’t like they were looking for a top of the class business man, they just needed someone who knew what they were doing when it came so cars. If there was something Hoseok could say he knew like the back of his hand, it was indeed, vehicles.
“I’m Jung Hoseok, It’s a pleasure to meet you sir!” the younger man swallowed his nerves as he extended his hand out in front of the older man, a bright smile spreading across his face. “I’m hoping to get a job here at Barae Motors. I have quite a lot of experience working with cars since my pops also owned a mechanics shop, but I’ll be willing to do any job you give me.”
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
This question almost wiped the smile he had perfectly crafted off of his face, how he got here was not something he enjoyed talking about in the slightest. Why was the interviewer asking such a personal question anyway? Maybe he just wanted to get to know Hoseok better, seeing the warm smile the older man was giving him it didn’t see there was any maliciousness behind said question. He dreaded talking about his past, even though there were many happy moments in his life that brought him so much joy, there was always the horrific ones that followed closely after them that reminded him just how horrible life actually was. He didn’t feel very comfortable talking about exactly how he got here, however he didn’t want to prolong the silence between him and the interviewer.
“Uh, I’m just a boy from Gwanju. I lived their practically my whole life with my mom, pops, and my big brother. Life was good y’know? We weren’t the richest family, but we had enough to get by, enough where we had clothes on our back and food on the table every night.” Hoseok continued to smile, however he could feel how tense the muscles were becoming in his face trying to maintain this cheesy grin, his facade was beginning to crack.
He was right, life was good, but like always good things eventually meet their demise. The perfect family of four: the mother - a beloved kindergarten teacher adored by her students and alumni alike, the father - a neighborhood mechanic who always wore a cheery smile on his face, and two loving sons who had an unbreakable bond was soon ripped apart and the reality of how perfect does not exist was soon apparent to Hoseok. There were secrets, lies, and deceit flowing all throughout his family ties and eventually all of those lies came to bite the “small town family” right in the ass. He didn’t want to be in Myeongcho at all, never had the desire to be here after hearing all the horror stories that came from the island. Yet, he had a reason for being here and he had no plans on going back to Gwangju until said reason was found safe and sound. Alive and well.
Running a hand through his hair, he changes his posture, erecting his back as to not slouch and show the imminent misery that was threatening to take over.
“I’m here for better opportunities and to do a little soul searching. I hope we can work well together, sir.”
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BE CAREFUL OUT THERE, SONG HANEUL .
He was born on AUGUST 13TH, 2000 as SONG HANEUL, but you might know him as STARLING. This nineteen-year-old is a FREELANCE THIEF, STUDENT and SECURITY at THE GROTTO. His allegiance lies with no one.
WHO ARE YOU?
“Nobody. I’m nobody,” he’s slumped in his seat, posture bent and immature, like a wild animal poised to flee its bonds at the next opportunity, “Ask anybody, that’s what they’ll tell you. Cops think I’m trash, grown ups thing I’m weak. My dad thinks I’m no better than the shit on his shoes. I know that because he told me,” they’ve cuffed him to a bench again, in the station lobby, this time for the Canadian passport and two sets of still-packaged bluetooth headphones they found on his person, “Don’t gimme that look. If anyone’s the piece of shit, it’s him. But I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m the leader, and I’m good at it too. So it doesn’t matter what you think I am.”
The leader of what, they ask him, in a gentle way that annoys him more than anything.
“None of your business.”
HOW DID YOU GET HERE?
He tsks, rolls his eyes, sinks back against the wall and slouches until he’s nearly reclining, nervous annoyance visible on his face, “You know how. It doesn’t matter, I’ll be out soon anyway. They always let me go. Something about being a kid. I think they’re just lazy.”
No, they clarify, how did you get here, to this point, to this place?
“I was born here. I live here. I stole a stupid tourist’s wallet but it’s not my fault they decided to come here. They were asking for it, okay? Don’t you like to eat?” He barely waits for the nod from across the desk, “Yeah, me too. So don’t ask me how I got here. You don’t care anyway. Just give me one of your crappy doughnuts and let me go.”
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 KIM DOYOUNG 》
“KIM DOYOUNG is a twenty-three-year-old DOCUMENT FORGER, TREASURER and ASSISTANT MANAGER at WILD-FLOURS BAKERY that goes by the alias DATA.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
“The youngest son and brother, a step-son and step-brother in other cases. A law school drop-out. I’ve been quite a few things for people so far in my life — but that’s just how things are, aren’t they?” He pauses, the hint of a smile on his lips. He wasn’t necessarily fond of talking about himself…but if it helped guide a conversation, then so be it. “Personally, I would just say I’m someone regular. I sing, cook, bake, read…most things that a lot of people do. But I suppose there’s some things that I do differently than others, too, I would at least like to think I’m not completely boring.” Like being someone’s source of “official” documentation, or someone that handles dirty money from blood-stained hands when they have too much else to worry about. Or just someone that helps run a well-loved bakery and is there when someone needs some guidance. “In the need, all I can really testify to who I am, is someone that could be trusted, if someone chooses to do so.”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“I wanted to start a life for myself, as soon as possible. That’s the short answer, at least.” He remembers family vacations to different places when he was younger, happy family vacations at that — there weren’t many, but there were enough to amplify the desire to go somewhere and do something that seemed to be built into his very being. Except the reasons between then and presently had changed, a lot. “I could only live in-between parents for so long; and things start to get a little confusing whenever one tells you that you should do something or be something, and then the other contradicts it. But I guess that’s what pushed me to take action for myself.” Expectations were fairly well the same between himself and his brother throughout their younger years — respect your elders, follow the rules, and do well in everything you did. Doyoung and his brother both excelled in school, wanting both of their parents to be proud of them; proud that their sons, and in their father’s case, a family legacy, were top of their respective classes, exceed expectations, participate in as many extracurricular as possible… but it always felt like something was missing. But he never went outside of the “rules”. “There was a lot of things I wanted to be and to do…but I’ve learned that not everything turns out how you want it. I tried out law school, hated it, but…as much as I wanted, disappointing my father too badly outweighed my desire to follow my passions, even with as much as my mother encouraged me to follow a career I enjoyed. I tried out finances, which wasn’t as bad…tried out other hobbies, so to speak.” He got into the wrong crowd after his degree, made deals with devils that were far too promising for someone that wanted to return care and financial support to a strong mother that had grown ill. And then he found himself working among the very evils that his father fought so hard against; using knowledge he had gained from him and his teaching to twist it into something that worked for him. “Like many others, I’m just trying to figure out life as I go. And here was a promising place to start, unattached from family, full of opportunities…here is a comfortable fit for all of that.”
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 KIM YOOHYEON 》
“KIM YOOHYEON is a twenty-two-year-old VIGILANTE and ACTIVIST that goes by the alias SUPERGIRL.”
TW IMPLIED POLICE BRUTALITY, DEATH
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
“A fighter. I’ve always been.” She smiles, shakes her head, corrects herself. “Had to be.”
But maybe that’s the only way fighters are ever born, crawling up from the dirt like a lotus flower trying to bloom in the light. She never had much. Both her parents had been working all her life and spend the few moments they were home mostly screaming, fighting, worrying. There were always so many things to worry about, bills to pay, lights to keep on, and what about Yoohyeon?
What about Yoohyeon? She worried too, about a world that created people who had to be so sad despite trying their best. She worried about her friends barely scraping by, she worried about all the good people in the world being kicked down so the evil could thrive.
Not on her watch.
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
Her father’s new job, the rising prices in the city, the expensive colleges – there’s a plethora of reasons why the Kim family moved.
But maybe the most obvious was Yoohyeon herself.
It had been a regular autumn day, Yoohyeon marching the street again as she did these days. Fighting, always fighting, always protesting against a world that wanted to keep her weak. Screaming for the voiceless.
She still isn’t sure where it went wrong, just a spark that ignited into violence. Just a scream that caught her attention, and her diving in to protect her best friend, her first love. The video that is taken goes viral and the comments all call her Supergirl, but the video doesn’t show the image that is engraved on Yoohyeon’s mind: in the white of a hospital room, her love’s lifeless eyes.
You can stop fighting now, her mother told her when they packed their bags, but Yoohyeon knows. She never could.
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 SONG SEOAH 》
“SONG SEOAH is a twenty-eight-year-old MEDICAL PERSONNEL, FORMER NIS and BARTENDER at THE CROW’S NEST that goes by the alias SOL.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
“Excellent question,” Seoah nods in commendation. “But I suppose if you knew that, I would know that. Aaand seeing as I don’t know, I guess we’re just stuck here.” She leans back in her seat, balancing her feet on the table and the two back legs of her chair. “Got anything to drink?”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
She sighs, half out of annoyance and the other half simply because she wishes they would get to the point. “That’s a long story, and probably not for your ears. But if simple is what you’re looking for, the second floor window was left unlocked and the east wing unguarded.“ She smiles, “Personally, I’d invest in better security and thank me for pointing it out to you.”
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 KANG TAEWON 》
“KANG TAEWON is a twenty-seven-year-old FREELANCER and UNDERGROUND FIGHTER that goes by the alias BULL.”
TW DRUG USE, PROSTITUTION, CHILD ABUSE, BLOOD, FAMILY ILLNESS, NSFW
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
kang taewon.
he thinks simply. that should be the only answer there is, but the more he thinks the more there is. he had never thought himself to be a complicated person, but when had he ever given himself time to just sit and think?
son.
he was nine. his father had already been gone for four years at that point. his mother was struggling to keep them afloat and even at his age, he knew. they had moved houses more than four times already, each time the apartment getting smaller and more ragged. they were in their room. he was trying his best to placate his youngest brother, but the cries don’t stop. he can hear the man’s footsteps stomping down the hall and out the door yelling about how he “couldn’t get off with a kid fucking crying”. for a moment the house is eerily silent before his mom is slamming his door open. on instinct, he takes the step forward to shield his brothers, once again ready to take the brunt of his mother’s anger if only to make sure they aren’t on the receiving end. back then the drugs, the loss of her husband, and the lack of nutrition hadn’t overtaken her completely. that night, as she watched the blood gush from the cut her ring had caused has his mother dropping to her knees. for the first time in years, she embraced them all in a hug and apologize.
older brother.
taewon tries his best to allow his brothers to live a normal life. they’re poor, but he does what he can. his mother barely returns home now, only leaving money for them occasionally so that they can buy food. taewon knows what happens if she stays too long. the guilt of that night lingers in the back of her mind. she only sinks deeper into her depression. the more she turns to alcohol and drugs to help cope and the more violent they make her. she can’t risk it again. however, even then there are days when she breaks. sometimes taewon preferred those days. it kept his mother off the streets and even if she littered his body with bruises she always gave him hugs to apologize. those are some of the nights he misses the most. despite his body aching, those nights they usually fell asleep cuddled on the mat on their floor for once feeling like a family again. those are the only nights he wants his brothers to remember. if he has to lie to keep that image alive for them he will.
fighter.
his first fight was at fourteen. he remembers that day clearly. taewon fumbled through that fight. halfway through he had managed to break his hand on the jaw of his opponent, but pure adrenaline and determination helped him win that fight. he’s stepping off the stage that night and sitting in the back as a man in black pats him on the back to congratulate him on a good fight. they take their cut of the money and throw the rest to the floor. he still remembers desperately trying not to get blood on the bills as he picked them up. the fights continue after that. the bills to keep his mother in the hospital, the money to keep his brothers in school and fed, and the debt she owed the local gang wasn’t a small fee. he needed more and more money and in less and less time. he had to take riskier fights and he does. honestly, he’s laughing at the thought of how good he had to get at makeup to hide his wounds from his brothers.
“kang taewon. just taewon is fine though.”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“i needed money mostly.”
even with his debt paid off by now his reputation in seoul meant that getting riskier fights meant risking death. he had been fighting for more than a decade now with just that experience paired with his win record the crowd wasn’t finding his fights as interesting unless it meant a fight to the death. not only that but most of the fighters that wanted to take him on now were the types that were there for the thrill, not fearing the consequences of death. despite the blood on his hands, he didn’t want more.
“and to have some time to myself.”
it was harder to hide the truth from his brothers when he’s closer to them. he knows the reputation of myeongcho and despite that, he came. he’s not here to take sides. he’s not here to end the war. he’s here to survive and provide for the people he cares the most. it might make him selfish, but family, family, was all that he had left.
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 TAKANORI MATSUMOTO 》
“TAKANORI MATSUMOTO is a thirty-two-year-old PIMP who goes by the alias RUKI.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
He felt the smooth leather of the chair and took a drag from his cigarette. The girls in the room busied themselves on the couch next to his chair, one came back with an old fashioned that she got from the bar of the club that they were located at. The music was muffled behind the door but the bass could still be heard clearly through out the room.
“My identity is none of your concern,” he breathed from his cigarette. “If you are here to talk to me about business then that is fine any of these girls in this room is ready for you as long as you pay. But be aware they aren’t just any girls that you can find on the street, only the high class and the elite come to me for these women’s time.”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
“I’m here to do business.” He told them “I’m not here to choose sides. Anyone can come to me as long as they can fulfill their end of the deal. Anyone that needs me for their business or anything else is not my concern as long as they can pay and complete their end of the contract.
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 KIM WOOSEOK 》
“KIM WOOSEOK is a twenty-two-year-old HITMAN and BITCOIN TRADER that goes by the alias ANON592.”
TW MURDER MENTION
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
“i’m no one,” his smile is the same as it’s been since the moment he walked into the precinct, uncuffed but flanked closely by two detectives. “and definitely not the guy you’re looking for. i just came down here to humor you anyways, i’ve got an alibi.” prepared, as he always is. he has no statement to give them, no reason for them to book him or even hold him here for more than a couple minutes. as far as he should know, the man they’re investigating the murder of should still be alive. not that he’s ever seen him in person before, as far as the cops know. they bumble through their jobs anyways. he’s never been very scared of them. “can i have some water?”
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
he sips at the paper cup carefully, not breaking eye contact from the detective across the table from him. it’s just far too much fun to watch the way it unnerves them just slightly. “you’d know more about that than i do. i’m still not sure why you guys brought me in here, i just wanted to get a coffee.” he knows, oh he knows perfectly well. there was never any blood on his hands, not physically. the shot had been taken from a far enough distance to be sure of that. no witnesses, no evidence left behind. it’s rare that the police even get this far, but he knows they’re just grasping at straws. they don’t even really suspect him, they just want to know if he witnessed anything more than any of the others did. “no sir,” he answers the question when he’s asked, “i didn’t see anyone or anything out of the usual.”
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PROFILE LOADED • • • 《 WOO JINSOO 》
“WOO JINSOO is a twenty-two-year-old PART-TIME INTERN at EMERGENCY RESPONSE HQ, HACKER and DRUG RUNNER that goes by the alias ZN.”
《 WHO ARE YOU? 》
There were always so many ways to answer a question like this. Who really was anyone? His lips pursed into a tight line, dimples dipping at the corners of his mouth to visibly form his obvious discomfort. He never was great at interacting socially and this was almost like the world was putting that factuality to the test. ‘Annoying’ would be an understatement. “Woo Jinsoo.” Was that the correct answer? Some sort of deep symbolic answer could have been the true aim to this, but he wasn’t necessarily feeling in touch with his 70s’ existential crisis mode at the moment and he didn’t want to seem pretentious for thinking too deeply about something that was probably a simple question.
《 HOW DID YOU GET HERE? 》
The question progressed and his eyes narrowed as they shifted in a direction that seemed to show that growing bundle of discomfort that was growing into a mound within his chest. Now it seemed to be a question of, Should he answer the obvious and risk the option of being a smartass prick, or to just simply answer in a different direction and seem like an idiot who had no grasp on the current context. It was equally as frustrating on either side of this spectrum. “Not so much a, ‘How’, as this is a, ‘Why’– but, My Mother’s side of the family is from here before they moved to America– and figured I’d make a visit, see what it’s about, catch my bearings?“ A pause, his shoulders bunching up in a shrug before exhaling slowly in unison to the motion. “It’s comfortable enough … I suppose.” He couldn’t help the wrinkle between his eyebrows from becoming slightly more prominent than it was moments prior. It wasn’t a lie, But, It was a portion of the truth. He wanted to be as far away from the shit show that was happening at home– and it was just as easily better off anywhere than there. The silent expectations that enclosed on him were almost suffocating in their own light, and anywhere was better than there.
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