hrsloren

[hrsloren]

hrskitaek‌:

but she wouldn’t. loren’s different. he knows her.

maybe better than anyone.

it’s humid, heavy, and the air wraps around frizzing strands of hair, pulling already erratic curls into a tousle down her back, a chaos of strands barely held back by pins, a mirror to the undergrowth of the forest at the foot of the hills. she watches his eyes flicker in a blink, wide and dark. his pupils jump, moment to moment, like the flickering thump of his fingers. her lips purse, slightly, in an almost impossible to perceive expression of curiosity. he’s always like this, fidgety and suspicious. she supposes she can’t blame him, given how often he’s been harassed or jumped for various “crimes”, both perceived and actual. still, shouldn’t childhood indiscretion be forgiven at some point? isn’t it better to embrace the devil you know than the one you don’t?

ren sure thinks so. it’s like shinwoo - once a bully and now, well, a customer. a something- not quite friend but not not a friend. so if she doesn’t hold a grudge towards his stupid and arrogant actions as a child, why should she so easily write off kitaek as some kind of mastermind criminal. if he’d been the one to do anything, he was such an obvious suspect that it all would have come back on him by now, in one way or another. anyone who’s ever read a mystery novel or watched a cop show should know by now that it’s going to end up one of the goody two shoes, or some snake in the grass character that’s all forgivable and kind up front to conceal a darker secret. 

people have always been straightforward with loren, in their intentions and their desires, with their distaste and their interest alike (limited though the latter has been, and largely based around her business). so, the idea of the manipulative and secret world that swims beneath the surface raises all sorts of warning flags in her, alarm bells ringing. it’s easier to trust someone like kitaek, who proudly wears their sins on their sleeve. she thinks it’s rather stupid no one else has figured that out yet, except perhaps loon, or sparrow. those other few confined to a misfit circle by circumstance. 

“the woods?” she repeats, interest piqued as she pulls her hoodie a little closer, lest the rain begin to collapse from the sky above them. it’s a fragile and futile barrier, but instinctive. “that’s so boring. i thought you were meant to be a killer. you should have threatened to hold me at knife point or something, at least.” she laughs out, an ill advised joke at a bad situation, but she thinks if he can’t laugh at all this idiocy than there’s nothing else for it. 

she follows after him, a careful descent off the beaten track, catches up and wraps her hand around a bony forearm. he has it half extended to brace himself, and she inserts herself into the situation,  leveraging balance for herself in the process, rewarded with heat beneath her palm and the flex of wiry muscle. lets it linger, for a second, until she’s gotten herself down to flatter land and turns to look back up at him. “how deep are we going?” she asks, to fill the silence that echoes in this quiet place, decorated with the distant call of birds and the chirp of crickets. 

DAISY ILLUSIVE

#?? MAGPIE #?? THREAD

[hrsloren]

namshinhrs‌:

he doesn’t deny it when she says he’s bored, because she’s right. though, this doesn’t mean he has to like that she’s right. but whatever he feels goes out of the window – just like their little chit chat. the moment kwon loren begins her business is the moment when shinwoo decides to be aware of his surroundings. “who the fuck do you think i am? i was waiting for this all night.” he pushes her out of the main room, both the music and lights fade as he leads her out of the building through the backdoor. he wipes the cobwebs off the door, purposely unkept so outsiders won’t intrude on them. “business must be taking off now that the town’s gone to shit, huh kwon loren?” he asks out of the blue, blocking the way back in with his back.

sometimes being around shinwoo feels like playing a game without knowing the rules, running a race without hearing the gun go off. he’s one of those people that thinks ten steps ahead in twists and turns, that wraps the world around in his image, redirects every narrative to suit him, like a rock jutting ostentatiously in the middle of the rapids, diverting everything around it, without seemingly aware that it is being stubbornly eroded. 

it’d be fascinating if it weren’t, at times, so frustrating. she wonders sometimes, in the idle way of one curious about human nature on the whole, what he’s like in the quiet of his mind. if that defensive arrogance lingers even there, shielding him from himself, or if they are a conscious illusion, a wall drawn up like a shield with purposeful intensity. “they’ll figure it out. part of being a drug dealer tends to imply flying under the radar,” she drawls in half a jest, a casual and thoughtless rhythm to the conversation. natural, like breathing, a back and forth  that doesn’t require much thought. in and out like breathing. of course, she’s  being graded on a curve, which she isn’t aware of. perhaps if she were, she’d have pulled out the big guns. 

“oh, sorry, i wasn’t aware your ego even demanded hand crafted, perfectly tailored insult preferences,” she teases lightly, tapping a finger to her temple, “i’ll keep it in mind for next time. you know, gotta keep the customer happy and all that, right?” fingers slide back through tousled hair, more artful and purposeful now, with less of the fried and deadened ends that years of chemical straightening had wrought. not as polished a look, granted, but when has she ever been all that polished a girl. she’ll take the hint of frizz in humidity over the disingenuous reminder of her mother and the multitude of pressures that had been foisted upon her, like some six year old atlas beneath the world of her expectations. 

he pushes her out of the limelight as soon as he’s put her in it, leaves her slightly disoriented as she is abruptly pushed into the back garden, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand as the cool night air graces her skin, nose scrunching at the sweep of a hand against cobwebs. “sorry, wasn’t sure if you were done posturing around like a peacock yet.” she offsets the sudden solitude with the drawl of her tone, slides her hands into her back pockets, elbows akimbo as her brow arches. “yeah, it really has. it’s a great time to be in the game of chemically augmented moods.” it’s not worth lying about, and she watches the way his shoulders block the door and tries not to feel uneasy about it, but it’s second nature maybe. especially these days, and especially with a rocky past between the two. “so pick your poison then.” 

you had me at hello.

#?? ROOK #?? THREAD

[hrsloren]

hrsminseok‌:

he usually doesn’t mind a conversation, likes loren well enough compared to some of kitaek’s other friends, but he’s not sure how much longer he can keep it together. unsure of how much of a coherent story he can tell while trying not to hiss with every movement he makes. “only temporarily,” he tells her, quickly narrows his most successful strategy down to pity. “my boss keeps making me work overtime and my shoulder can’t keep up. i didn’t realize i was going through them that quickly.” it wasn’t a complete lie. minseok has been working more hours lately. but his tolerance building up had been an issue even before that. loren doesn’t need to know that, though. the less she does, the better. “when do you think you can get me the next one? i’ll pay extra for the inconvenience.”

loren may look impassive and uncaring, but she’s not at all the icy hearted girl her exterior may suggest. she’s always been a loyal soul, and with that comes a certain amount of empathy. and minseok is a friend of kitaek’s, which means he is in extension a friend of hers, and lets be real here: he’s also kind of an idiot. an addiction to pain killers brought about by a mysterious injury is not exactly behavior that inspires confidence. painkillers are no joke, with greater addiction rates and more severe consequences if either of them were to be caught, and while she feels for minseok, she’s also not interested in either being responsible for a disaster or for being arrested. so there are rules in place, protocol. if you can’t protect yourself with rules, what else is there? ironic, for a girl who breaks them on the regular. she has to admit she’d gone to swallow for help with the specifics and legalities, the other with a much better brain for safeguarding, the intricacies of the law, and propriety than she had. 

“oh is that so?” she drawls in reply, muses at the idea of it and the implication. it’s true, people aren’t exactly kind or understanding towards minseok, for all his actions, both rumored and actual. the fact is he has done plenty of bad in his time, but is it really so much more than anyone else has committed? they’ve all got their sins and secrets, lingering in the background. god knows she does, and magpie is no different. perhaps the most important difference is the fact that theirs are closer to the surface, more easily noticed. she’d be a fool not to suspect dove of plenty, after all, but perhaps she just hasn’t yet exposed those truths to the world, keeping them wrapped up and tucked away. if one listens to the fliers and the rumors, there are, after all, suggestions of plenty of hidden sins, lingering under the surface ready to show themselves. 

the thought of the whole thing makes her uncomfortable. and with tern here poking around now as well, she knows plenty of secrets will begin coming to light. he can’t help it, ferrets them out like a bloodhound. the back of her neck prickles. it’s not time to fall lax with minseok, that’s for sure. she purses her lips, slightly, brows furrowing a bit, a quiet expression of disapproval. “you gotta cut that shit out,” she tells him, shaking her head in a quick, terse movement. “doubling up temporarily is like, basically never temporary.” she scratches at her arm in an idle movement. the mosquitoes have already returned for the summer. annoying. 

he offers extra, because of course he does, and she frowns, tapping her thumb against the counter idly. “i dunno, man, it’s really not a good idea.” she mumbles, shaking her head slightly as she continues, “are you fully out? like, nothing left?” 

recipe for disaster

#?? THREAD #?? SPARROW

[hrsloren]

hrsgyeowool‌:

“this town is going to be a nightmare now,” gyeowool says, letting her head fall on her arm. the two of them are lying on her bed, and one of her cats butt heads her hand. gyeowool smiles. her cats very rarely like strangers, but ren seems to be the exception to a lot of her rules - not only hers, it seems.  “more than usual. with all these flyers going around now. everywhere i go people are talking about it,” she lets out a sigh, picks up the cat and places it on top of her. “they just can’t let them rest, can they.”

ren was not blessed with a family that was particularly impressed by her. truthfully, her family did not even particularly like her. what an odd girl, they called her, she’s certainly an interesting child, they would say. there was always a “however” or a “but” hanging in the air. but isn’t swallow more demure? but isn’t swallow smarter? but isn’t swallow ranked higher at school, doesn’t she have more upright friends? why does loren dally around with those hoodlums, what is she thinking, skipping class? swallows records were spotless, loren’s littered with detentions and demerits, her report cards covered in “she’s so smart, if she would just...” and “she’s an intelligent girl, if only....” there’s not much else to be said, than that. 

and so when the world refuses to give you a family that cares for you, certainly it is no surprise that a girl like loren went out to find a family for herself. and gyeowool, she’d seen in her that loneliness. there had been a sameness there, a mirror held up between the two of them, reminding each other of their shortcomings, their comparisons, the spectres that decorate their homes. together, they build a safe place. 

ren sighs, humming as the other speaks, a noncommital sound. she doesn’t like to think of the tragedies and terrors lurking around the corners. she doesn’t like the flyers and doesn’t appreciate the names that are so often called out as particularly suspicious. it feels, on the whole, rather an unfair situation, unnecessarily judgmental. kitaek might be a freak but he’s not a killer. she’s nearly sure of it. almost. besides, she’s more liable to trust someone openly strange than the many, many people who hide their demons in the back of their closets, locked away tight. that’s the most suspicious action, she thinks. 

“if they let them rest in peace there’d be nothing for the rest of the town to do.” she points out, “making a mess of tragedy and throwing around accusations gives everyone something to do. a way to pretend they’re important. pretend something might actually be going on here.” still it does leave her uneasy. too many people seem to have been touched by the cruel hand of faate, and she can’t pretend that increased police presence poking around doesn’t make her nervous, by nature of her occupation.  she sighs, shifts to rest her head on the other’s shoulder, fingers stroking lightly, gently against the cat’s head. 

soulmate dry your eye

#?? THREAD #IM LATE IM SO SORRY

[hrsloren]

namshinhrs‌:

he leans down to make sure she hears his strange hybrid of whisper shouting, quiet enough to keep their conversation quiet but loud enough so she can hear over the god awful music, “now what the fuck took you so long anyway? traffic?“ it’s entirely rhetorical, because he knows damn well it’s not traffic of all things. he tugs her towards the center of the room, and loudly, he announces, “i was getting so lonely without you here.”

he means impatient, but he’s bored and in dire need to blow off steam.

shinwoo’s face is an open book, sometimes. or at least, it’s an obvious performance. each shift of his mood plays out on pleasant features, each shift of his shoulders plays to the grandiose narrative he plays out, acting as if on a grand stage. it kind of makes sense, he’s so often been at the center of attention, perhaps such a performative streak became a way to cope with the scrutiny of being the mayor’s son, a way to dissociate from the burden of small town infamy. and maybe loren is reading too much into things as usual, behind her inscrutable features. 

it’s not as if she’d ever meant to be so stoic. even as a child she’d been unusually bland in her expressions, just a natural taciturn bent, that no one but her grandfather had found particularly endearing. he’d said she had an old soul, to be such a solemn looking girl. but she felt as much as anyone did - maybe more, honestly. but it simmered under the surface, exploding in action rather than word or expression. imperceptibly her eyes narrow, even as the edge of her lip raises, amused at her own expense. “it’s not much of a secret if you make such a show out of my arrival is it, sweetheart,” she drawls in reply, reaching up to pat his cheek lightly, as one might a child. 

you are whatever i say you are, he says, and she wonders if he realizes how true that is. how easily someone like him, or like lark or swan, could make and unmake a person. how easily they’d unmade people in the past, people who skirted around the edges just as she did. in a town rapidly filling to the brim with murders, it’s hard not to feel ever so slightly uncertain about that possibility.  “arrogant,” is what she says instead, her left brow arching as her lips tilt,  a tsk on her tongue as he draws her inside, tilting down to rasp words in her ear,  “can i help if it everyone’s blown smoke up your ass about how interesting you are your whole life? you should be happy i tell you the truth when no one else does.” she tells him, shrugging off the half-shout as it follows after, laughing. it’s quick, light, easily missed.  “you weren’t, just bored.” she tells him, “but i like the sound of it anyway.” she blinks, slow, pats at the pocket on the front of a worn jean jacket. “you want some fun then or what?”

you had me at hello.

#?? THREAD #?? ROOK

[hrsloren]

hrskitaek‌:

another step closer, and he wads his fists up in his sweatshirt pockets. tips his head down a little, enough to catch her eyes. “if you’re fucking with me, i’ll really…” the words trail, because he’s not sure what he’d do. kitaek presses his lips shut instead, waits.

if you look at him objectively kitaek is handsome. pretty, even. if you math it out, he probably shouldn’t be. he’s not that tall, not that well muscled. on one hand he is starkly angled - sharp shoulders, the tapered cut of his hips, the slice of his jaw. but rounded,  also, in the curve of his cheeks and the tilt of eyelashes and in softened edges of cheekbones that frame a rounded smile. it’s like his anatomy teeters in the in between, half soft and half rigid, half fluid and half controlled, half masculine and half feminine. it’s a balance that seems, on paper, as if it shouldn’t work, but in practice can be as captivating as he can be creepy - which is to say quite a lot. 

not that loren ever notices the latter, the bit where he’s creepy. maybe her own energy cancels it out. maybe her own neediness distracts from the point. who cares, if he’s strange. so is she. who cares, if he took a bunch of pictures of goeun or whatever. ren drew weird porn for commission, and she didn’t even have the defense of being an idiot teenage boy to cover her actions. in a town like this, all the deep dark secrets were bound to come out sooner or later. she was a criminal, no stranger to the inside of the police station, likely to end up in jail at some point. who was she to begrudge a boy a little youthful stalking? 

and anyway, they had been on the newspaper. it could have been about that. maybe. 

the point was she was hurting for companionship and she frankly enjoyed his company, and sometimes a girl had to take these kind of matters into their own hands. it’s kind of a joke, the way she poses it all to him. how stupid is it all anyway, making an idiot out of herself like this. she’s never stated the trade so blatantly before, despite using it to ingratiate herself with plenty of people who’d never given her the time of day before, much less those who had actively harassed her in her youth. “i’m the catch,” she jokes, half a self diss and half a brag and entirely a pun that she shouldn’t have made, but she’s pleased with herself regardless.  that’s wit,  right there. the word play of an up and coming writer. 

yikes. 

she shrugs listless, rolls her eyes and shoves her hands into her back pockets, elbows jutting akimbo as she tilts her head to the side, hums. “you should pick. come up with something good or i’m not gonna give ‘em.” she determines this on the fly, given the fact that he seems to find her company less of a detriment than expected. turns it into a game for her own benefit - what will he tolerate, how far can she push? she’s always been the type to take things to a place she ought not. “you’ll what? no, keep going,  i love a good threat.” she replies, takes a step closer, juts her chin stubborn, but the light in her eyes is strangely amused in it’s glimmer. 

DAISY ILLUSIVE

#?? THREAD #?? MAGPIE

[hrsloren]

hrsminseok‌:

loren is smart when it comes to her business, though, streets and stores practically abandoned by the time he stopped by the gs25 for a midnight ‘snack’. minseok greets her with a nod, one that turns into a nudge to follow him to the back of the store to seal the deal. there is usually not a lot of talking involved, transaction settled by the exchange of a couple of crumpled up bills for two packs of menthol cigarettes and a little extra. but minseok is looking to renegotiate and he figures it will need a little more convincing than the first time. 

“i would apologize for taking up your time but you didn’t look that busy…” he says, gaze fleeting back to the door to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted, “you got the stuff?”

this whole operation had been a flight of fancy. a spark of boredom that kicked into a wild fire. she’d never really expected any of it to take off - hell, she’d never expected swallow to grow the balls to steal the scrip pad in the first place. she wasn’t exactly daring - intelligent sure but as her mother had always been happy to point out, one to follow the rules and keep her head on straight. the type to get voted most likely to succeed or whatever. essentially, her stark opposite. 

it had been easy at first. study drugs for the suneung, benzos to calm down. it wasn’t until minseok had come to her about pain killers that she’d gotten worried. that things had gotten tense. it wasn’t like there was a massive legal jump from stealing one thing or another, but painkillers of the level he wanted - the level he needed, honestly - were no joke. carefully tracked and regulated, highly addictive. she hadn’t wanted to get involved in it at first, hadn’t been interested in getting herself into that much potential trouble. but the money had been good and minseok was nice enough, friends with kitaek, so in the end she’d taken him up on it, made a deal with strict rules, regulations, like some kind of mother hen drug dealer rationing his doses. 

so when he comes in tense, shoulders stiff, nose twitching and a rumble as he pulls his voice from the back of his throat, ren can feel suspicion grow, her heart sink. as soon as she sees his approach through the wide glass window at the front of the store, she checks her records, in the little notebook, scrawled in a personal code. a latent interest in cryptography put to good use. “you sound like a movie criminal,” she tells him bluntly but not un-fondly, a grin on her lips that reads softer than expected, eyes still sharp and expression still largely blank. she’s fundamentally masked like that, as if always holding something back. maybe that’s why people find it so fucking hard to relate to her. 

“you’re really pushing it you know. i wasn’t expecting you for another few days.” she tells him. “you doubling up doses?” tolerance is real and they both need to be careful about it, but it is (ever so luckily) up to her to keep things on track. 

recipe for disaster

#?? THREAD #?? SWALLOW

[hrsloren]

haejoonhrs‌:

“i’d really appreciate if you don’t, is what i’m trying to say, loren.”

in a very “glass half full or glass half empty” sort of manner it is either very early or extremely late when loren finally stumbles away from the bar, wallet considerably heavier and her senses still on high alert, crackling with the fizz-pop of familiar adrenaline. engaging in illegal activity no longer makes her palms sweat or the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her heart doesn’t race rabbitlike in her chest at the slightest transaction, as it once did, but there are still remnants of self preservation instinct not yet trampled out, calling to her like an echo from a distant canyon. 

maybe that feeling, that static shiver down her spine, is why she started doing any of this. there were other ways to make money. she knows that, she’s doing plenty of them. but this is the easiest way to a big influx and it gives her a buzz and importantly, excruciatingly crucial, it makes her necessary in a way nothing else ever has. never a swan or a goeun or even a starling - and certainly not a swallow - she’d always been the wallflower type, blending in and sidestepping the center stage. it’s not that she craved mean girl status. she likes to think she could have cleaned up nice enough, been cruel enough, to make that switch if she’d really wanted. if she’d been interested in excising so much of her oddness and sacrificing it for acceptance. but she hadn’t been then and she wasn’t now, no matter how lonely this old town got. the same faces,  the same places, the same people. people who had known her so long their ideas of her were largely set in stone. people unwilling to look beyond the once was and toward the could be. 

she takes the long way home and then she walks right past it. 

there’s not a real reason for it. the night air wavers between cool and warm, so perfectly tempered it almost disappears against her skin, and as she leaves the ambiance of the town and heads towards the forests, it almost feels like she cannot tell where she ends and the sky begins, a comforting anonymity.  the world blurs into a watercolor before her, an impressionists heavy layering of colors and paints muddying before her eyes, the earth tilting on axis underfoot, but it doesn’t stop her from the occasional swig from the bottle still clutched in her hand. a black mart bag bangs at her leg when she stumbles. she scrapes her knee when she shifts,  clambering up onto the edge of the crude concrete bridge. it’s no majesty of construction. 

but the height of it makes her heart race, the rush of water beneath her roaring with the blood in her ears, wind picking up just enough to begin chapping her cheeks raw and red. it feels like something, for a moment. she’s always liked it - that call from the void, that feeling of standing on a precipice. but of course he ruins it, a rumble in her ear that takes her too long to place, turning to blink at him with incredulous eyes. 

“don’t be such a drama queen.” she tells him, as if she isn’t a mess of smudged mascara and battered vans. as if she isn’t accessorized with scraped knees and bruising shins and a half empty bottle and placed on the edge of a bridge, lit by the moon. “it’s nice up here.” is what she settles on, gestures at him before realizing there’s a bottle in her hand. “come on up,” she supplements, in lieu of the offer of assistance. “it’s sturdy.” maybe. mostly. she lifts a foot to stamp against it,  half to prove it to him and half to check for herself. so far so good. 

“so you’re the creepy new guy.” she adds, lips pursing. “i shouldn’t be surprised. you always were a real weirdo.” the grin she flashes him is all teeth.

redux

#?? THREAD #?? TERN

[hrsloren]

OOC.

dropping a minor note to let yall know that my weeks are always super busy from mon-weds, so i’m usually around to write and plot properly from thursday to sunday give or take! so i finally responded to ims and i’ll be trying to write some stuff up starting thursday so if you wanna get a thread/plot/smthn going just lmk! my discord is blueming#9905 ^^ !

#?? OOC

[hrsloren]

namshinhrs‌:

he feigns surprise, and drawls out a sarcastic, “whoa. didn’t know i invited a freak to my party.” his voice lifts significantly just like the corner of his lips. he smirks, looking down at her and her expression — blank as always, but it just makes him want to bother her more.

“darling,” he slithers as he leans against the doorframe; finally something fun. “i don’t think your big hair can fit through the doorway.”  

@hrsloren 

ren goes to parties, sure. immerses herself into them. part of the mix but never a central figure. if it were a teen movie, she’d be at the side, panned over briefly by the camera - not the one doing a kegstand in the middle of the room. even in high school,  she’d partied. more than she should have, certainly. but she’d been trying a little more back then. sleek straight hair, once her mom had convinced her into the chemical straightening process, well applied makeup, innocent and unassuming enough. a wallflower, mostly, with a cutting quip here and there. under performing compared to her capability, that was what her teachers always said. maybe that was kind of the mark of her life.

even now, the parties feel the same as they did then. loud, wild. maybe because its all the same people. the same faces, filtering in and out of focus. she’s got a new role now, in these shindigs, lately. she’s got a new purpose. she has comfort in her own frame now, too. carries herself with more confidence, a devil may care attitude that pairs with blank features to give the impression she might have come back from her college days much cooler than she really was. she doesn’t mind the assumption. it’s best to take the upper hand where you can get it, she figures. 

she comes late, because these parties are boring. that’s the truth of it. it’s the same people making the same mistakes. but at least the booze flows freely and the music is loud and there are wallets waiting to be emptied on addy and benzos. so in the end she shows up, pushing the door open, ready to slink into a corner and grab herself a drink, but her progress is immediately impeded. she’s on the edge of scowling, but she doesn’t. 

because she sees who it is. so the smirk follows his words, settling on her lips in an easy and almost imperceptible shift, brows lifting ever so slightly. it doesn’t seem like much, to a stranger, but it’s a sign of marked amusement for ren, squaring up for good natured fun. “am i a freak or your darling, make up your mind.” she returns unbothered, slides her hand back through tousling curls, a cascade that falls far too long down her back now, overcompensating after a rather humbling attempt at a bob back in college. “everyone knows i bring the party with me these days. i’m here to give your boring little gathering some much needed cpr.” she leans against the door frame, boxing him in from leaving. “i don’t think your ego will make it out the door either, so i guess we’re both stuck.”

you had me at hello.

#?? THREAD #?? ROOK

[hrsloren]

hrskitaek‌:

he stares at her when he talks. meets loren’s eyes the way public speaking teachers tell you that you should, but always feels just a bit unsettling to everyone else in the world. the sound of his heels scuffing to pavement fill the void of quiet between them when kitaek inches in closer. the air feels almost wet, on the edge of raining. he takes a moment to tip his head back and contemplates the sky as he waits out what he assumes to be loren’s mental math as she decides how much to charge him. and then back again when the quiet drags out. he shakes the hood off his head, not that it changes all too much, dark hair overgrown and in his eyes. 

“what, did you sell ‘em to someone else on the way here?”

by mid-may, the town is reaching that point of the year when the encroaching onslaught of summer can no longer be denied. it marches forward with sticky, humid fingers, a haze that begins to lay itself over the town like a blanket. thin hairs curl at the nape of her neck and a cardigan hangs loosely from her shoulders, covering bony shoulders and the plain ribbed tank top beneath. she’s not quite ready to give up on transitional season fashion. its the only time she feels like her looks really work. by the peak of summer it will be too hot for her to care to think about much besides comfort, though at  least her job allows her the luxury of a near nocturnal schedule. 

she doesn’t reply to him. 

it’s not got a huge purpose to it, really. she looks at it on the screen. she likes to see them sitting there sometimes, messages. she likes to think about how people might want to talk to her, likes to imagine them waiting impatient for her response. 

even if it is all manufactured. even if it is all purely for the interest of what she provides. 

no one has ever really been all that interested in ren herself, aside from a grandfather now gone to the sky. they like the things she can provide, now, and as a child, she didn’t have much to  offer. as a teen, perhaps less, besides an endless willingness to engage in reckless behavior, a passionate and erratic attitude that occasional brought a delightful chaos to various gatherings. for some, she provided a convenient occasional punching bag, for  others a character of some kind of background noise, a chitter chatter of amused sarcasm and strange comments to liven up a gathering. not an important fixture, a side character at best. maybe comedic relief. 

so she’s found other ways, over the years, to make herself useful. to make herself important. it’s the pills, mostly, the drugs. if people  need them, then they need her. an avenue to a business relationship she likes to think of as budding friendship, because she has nothing else to hold onto. or at least, so very little. 

pathetic. 

this is pathetic too. gravel underfoot as she follows up after him, watches him shift and spook, startling like a stray cat. she grins. more teeth, wider than expected. always a little unsettling, her mother had said once. she’d tried not to smile much after that. 

“you’re cute when you’re scared,” she drawls. “got those big round baby deer eyes going on.” kitaek stares at her, intensely, then up at the sky, and she shrugs. 

“free, if you play your cards right.” she tells him. he looks at her and its quizzical, but he can’t hide the hint of intrigue. her heart sings, like she’s won a prize. won some affection, or attention. as if this isn’t bribery. “hang out with me today and i’ll hook you up.”

DAISY ILLUSIVE

#?? THREAD #?? MAGPIE

[hrsloren]

#VIS.

[hrsloren]

HELLO EVERYONE ! i’m rlly excited to be here at hearsay. actually is a new kind of rp concept for me so if im a little slow in coming up with ideas please be patient w me, i promise i’m engaged and interested. i’d also love recs of your fav murder mystery stuff for inspo! neway some info about ren is under the cut (along w some plot ideas!) and ill message yall once i have a chance to read over the apps so that hopefully i can come 2 u with some thoughts for plots~ ur also welcome to message me first of course or hit that like or really anything else lol!! discord avail on request for plotting, too, if thats more your style. 

kwon loren is a 26 yr old scorpio, horror enthusiast, entrepreneur (cough, drug dealer), n webtoon artist and she’s never met a villain she didn’t want to write a redemption arc for.

yes i almost exclusively chose her name bc it can be nicknamed into ren which obviously sounds like wren and i thought it was punny / suitable lol. 

unfortunately the only one of those that makes any money is the entrepreneurial bit and that is a totally illegal path. so her day job is her night job as the overnight manager of the gs25 near her dingy apartment building.  she works sunday to thursday nights, usually, since she makes the schedule she selfishly schedules the part timers on prime weekend night slots.  she also draws weird commissioned porn for folks w strange kinks (tentacles?? yoikes no judgement but yoikes) when she needs the xtra won.

she was the black sheep of her family even before her personality really showed itself, and once she revealed herself to be a tomboyish, unruly, temperamental, reckless, passionate, and alarmingly contrary child the whole thing just got worse. rlly the only person she was ever very close with was her grandfather, who is a somewhat-renowned murder mystery / horror writer. sneaking peaks at his books and manuscripts was probably what kindled a lot of her weird proclivities as a child, which she carries forward to now.

she’s quite excessive in a lot of ways. too much smoking, too much drinking, too much feeling, too much dreaming, too much scheming, too much writing.... basically the only thing she doesn’t overload on is sleep?? so check out those atrocious under eye shadows sometime bc its a yikes from me yall. 

u can track her moods pretty easily despite the fact that she’s got a hard to read face. once  you get used to her habits and mannerisms its rlly clear to see that she’s an open book. the only thing that can throw it off is that she’ll try to stop smoking abt once every 3 months, at which point she becomes a complete nightmare w very little notice. it usually doesn’t last very long unfort for her lungs.

speaking of smoking shes the kind of person to immerse herself in things easily and get totally wrapped in them. like, she’s v prone to addictions or obsessions. this can be with things, people, television shows, etc. she’s never known a good series she didn’t binge as quickly as possible, a good book she didn’t read cover to cover, sleep be damned. this means she’s often kinda grouchy or trying to sleep something off. she’ll also talk ur ear off about whatever she’s fallen into at the moment. 

just for a weird fact, she has a complex about her hair. its naturally relatively coarse and bushy and curly and frizzy. her mum used to pull it back every morning in a rlly tight ponytail and pin down all the unruly bits with bobby pins or barettes and she hated it, it always made her head hurt and obviously it made her feel like her hair was ugly.  so for a long time she chemically straightened it and did all kinds of treatments, but now she’s trying to maintain it more naturally. so yeah sometimes it looks like a birds nest but at least it’s healthier. 

she’s very picky about her surroundings and organizing her personal space, especially when she wants to work on something. she gets picky about things being in a good visual order, and if she notices something is out of place around her, she’ll hyper focus on it until she can fix it. this can be something meaningful (noticing she didn’t do the dishes) or something absurd (noticing someone left a napkin on the ground at the cafe, across the room, and having to go throw it away before she can focus on anything else). 

just like with her surroundings, with aesthetics, and with substances or media,  she hyper focuses on people too. when she decides someone is ‘hers’ she will go all in on them, becoming loyal to the point of honest to goodness fault. this isn’t to say she’ll tell them they’re the best at all times or be unrealistically enamored with them. she’ll still be fully cognizant of and happy to point out faults, but she won’t turn her back on them. she’d help you bury a body, basically, but she’d tell you what a goddamn psychopath you were as she did. 

FOR SOME PLOT THOUGHTS

her only real established canon relationships have to do w her drug trade or her much better cousin (just ask anyone in her family) so she’s very well open to just about anything. she’s canonically close to magpie and cousins w swallow, of course, and sells to an established handful. i’d love to get her a bit wrapped up in things these days, maybe some secret trading or ferreting things out. i imagine she feels loyalty to magpie and resents those who might come out with accusations against him. 

i’d love her to have an outcast ride or die best friend from high  school, someone who was also on the black sheep side of things. she did participate in the high school literary magazine (layout) and on the newspaper (though not as seriously as one might have hoped) and certain undesirables spread rumors about the english teacher “favoring” her (at least some guiding figure finally liked her dammit). so bullies from high school are fully possible. she was kind of a weirdo (duh) so i imagine it would have been pretty normal to pick at her here and there, though she did try to fly under the radar a lot. people who used to harass her coming to her for pills now could be a thing to explore, or someone who dated her in high school but didn’t really want to be “out” about it due to you know like dumb high school social differences so resentment grew and it was a whole teen movie drama that ended up without the happy ending and now its weird when they see each other, which could go many ways. those she’s befriended or so forth since coming back to town down on her luck, also, would be welcome! 

anyway if you made it to the end of this ily very much and i hope we can plot asap huhu

#?? OOC #queued for opening i hope

[hrsloren]

[hrsloren]

[hrsloren]