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jewishlensnart · 6 years

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So it’s the holiday season, which in a lot of households means presents. You know who has more merch than almost any other Flash villain (1. being Reverse Flash as of my last count)? Captain Cold!

Have a Len lover in your life? Need to give your family gift ideas? Peep this list, y’all!

I used to own...basically everything with Len on it. I had the largest Flash collection in the southern US until about 3 years ago, when I sold the vast majority of it, and gave away even more. These reviews come from in-hand experience. Let’s start with the Original Lad:

DC Direct Captain Cold

Holy macaroni, was this figure terrible. Yes it was comic-accurate at the time, but you could not pose it, you could not keep it standing, and the face when you removed the glasses? Nightmare fuel. Still, it was a figure from 2001, and they really were doing their best, so I’d have to rate this guy a 2 out of 5.

These next two came out around roughly the same time, but could not be more different in quality. First up, DC Direct Justice Captain Cold

Strictly speaking, this figure was beautiful. Yeah it was in the hyper-realistic style of Alex Ross, who I’ve never been a fan of, but it was toned down in a way that made it less uncanny valley. The figure had stubble painted on, and if you removed the hood (which you technically could but shouldn’t), he had hair under there! But still, this was a DC Direct figure from 2008, so it had all the same flaws that a figure from that time period tended to have: absolutely a bitch to pose, hard to keep upright without the base (I let mine lean against the wall whenever I needed the base for even more precarious figures), joints prone to snapping if you worked him too hard. Still, by far my favorite of the DC Direct/Collectibles Len figures, if not my favorite full-size figure. 4.5 of 5.

Meanwhile in big box stores across the nation, DC Universe Classics was releasing their best wave yet, wave 7. Man, I had that whole thing aside from Aquaman; Big Barda, Flash, Kid Flash, Blue Beetle, Booster Gold, and of course, Captain Cold

This is the ugliest Len figure. Hands down, the least visually appealing. Which is a shame, because it’s also one of the best! Completely comic accurate until you hit the upper torso/head area, a ridiculous amount of articulation, with the single best cold gun of any of these figures...but jfc that expression. The weird poncho/hood always bothered me too, because while it was almost comic accurate, something just threw it off the track and made it look more ridiculous than cool. 3.5 out of 5.

After the New 52 hit, DC Collectibles released 2 Captain Cold figures in rapid succession, one that was packaged alone, and one that came as part of a 7-figure set

Can you spot the differences? There’s just one: the Len from the 7-figure set is in a dark blue suit, and doesn’t come with the ice mace and ice dagger. Like all DC Direct figures before them, these DC Collectibles figures are pretty to look at, but offer very little in the way of articulation. They could be hard to keep upright, which was annoying, as neither came with a stand, and do not try to take off the hood. Nothing under there. Still, they were very pretty depictions of a popular redesign, so I feel alright giving these guys a 3 of 5.

DC Collectibles spat out a final Len figure for the CWverse line back in 2015

As a big fan of Wentworth Miller and his face, I feel this figure could have been better. I mean, I’ve seen Arrowverse figures that are spot on, and this one just is not. Maybe it’s because the goggles obscure a good portion of the face, I don’t know. That being said, I love this figure, and it’s actually one I re-bought at a convention recently, along with the Heatwave figure from the same line, that hadn’t been released when I’d started selling off all of my toys. The costume is show-accurate, the figure comes with an extra set of hands, and the gun is just really cool. This is a solid 4 of 5 figure.

These next toys aren’t action figures per say, as they don’t do much in the way of action, but they’re cute and I like them, for the most part.

Funko took over the market and the world back in 2010 when it first introduced the Pop Vinyl figures, but it took a hit TV show to get Flash villains other than the Reverse Flash into production. There are 3 Captain Cold Funko products currently out, the two Pop Vinyls and a Re-Action figure

Now, I love the first Pop Vinyl. The round, lifeless black eyes of the Pops have freaked me out for a long time, but with Len in his sweet goggles, this Pop is perfect for me. I actually have him on a shelf in my closet. The variant...look, I like how they included the actual real-life hairline Wentworth Miller has, but those creepy eyes just kill it for me. The Re-Action figure, by the way, is garbage. They’re supposed to be based on the lines of toys that came out back in the 80s, but all that means to me is little to no articulation, weird molds that look nothing like the character they’re supposed to be, and few if any accessories. Why is he wearing a tie??? Just. The worst. 5 of 5 for Pop 1, 3 of 5 for Pop 2, and 1 of 5 for the Re-Action figure.

There are a bunch of figures that came out before Funko’s reign that have little to no articulation, and here they are:

Action League Citizen Cold, from the Batman: The Brave and the Bold line

I love a good boy??? 5 of 5, absolutely perfect. No you can’t pose him, but he already comes in a dynamic, interesting pose. This is my absolute favorite of all the non-poseable figures, and I miss mine all the time.

Imaginext, a line of toys for very young superhero fans, made a New 52 Captain Cold a few years back

Honestly, Imaginext toys are ridiculous, and I love every single one of them. They’re great toys for little kids, and yeah, Len is completely bald underneath that hoodie and ice gun backpack, but he has a snowball cannon to compensate with, so who’s the real loser?! 5 of 5, beautiful.

Did you kno w that back in 2011, McDonalds put out a line of Happy Meal Young Justice toys featuring Captain Cold??? Did you want to know? Too bad, you know now.

My dad’s dog chewed up his ice projectile, rendering the actual immobile figure completely useless...but I still really like it??? Like, it’s a toy that came with food that I sweet-talked the counter guy into giving me. It’s a worthless little nothing of a toy...but I still like it. 3 of 5.

Pocket Heroes were a weird little line of 3-inch figures that came in two-packs. One of those packs contained Flash and Captain Cold

You can basically only move their arms and legs, and while this figure comes with a cold gun and a remarkably ripped set of abs and pecs, the design never really appealed to me. 2.5 out of 5.

I collected MiniMates once upon a time. 2.5 inch figures that were basically fancy LEGOs? Deal me in! ViniMates are uh. Not that.

ViniMates are 6-inch figures and I Do Not Like Them. Being made of vinyl makes them almost completely free of articulation, so the post you get them in is the one they stay in. Also, this one is based on the show-interpretation of Len and it seems to be smoldering at me. Don’t like that. 1 out of 5.

On the other end of the vinyl spectrum, the Mini-Mezitz line from Mezco is simply delightful.

Mini-Mezitz were 2-inch figures with articulation in their arms, legs, and neck joints. I love mine, and they have been hanging out on the top of my bookcase for like 7 years now. 4 out of 5, absolutely weird-dorable.

Eaglemoss once put my blog on the front page of their website without telling me, back when I was actively snapping pictures of my Flash collection. The Eaglemoss lead figures, once you get past the fact that yes, these dudes are made of painted lead so maybe handle with care, are a good staple in any collection. Captain Cold got two

Both Eaglemoss figures came with information booklets about Captain Cold, though the chess piece New 52 version focused almost solely on his New 52 history. They’re both very detailed, and I really like them. 3.5 out of 5.

I never watched Thomas the Tank Engine as a kid...but I saw this weirdass thing in a HomeGoods one day and just kinda. Stopped and stared.

He’s a train. Len is a train now. Don’t like it. 1 out of 5.

So there’s this company called Kotobukiya. They’re most famous for their bishoujo statues, but they make guys too. I had the Flash Kotobukiya statue, back in the day. I was not collecting Flash stuff when they made a Captain Cold one.

I’m actually apparently getting this as a gift from my boyfriend for Hanukkah. He finally got access to my wishlist. This statue is based on the Francis Manapul New 52 redesign, and it is what we call Big Sexy. Frankly, I give it a 5 out of 5.

No offense to Wentworth Miller, but my favorite Captain Cold TV appearance is always going to be his role in the JLU episode, Flash and Substance.

The JLU figures were all godawful, but hell if we as a fandom didn’t gobble them up back in the day. I had all the available Rogues, Len, Heatwave, Captain Boomerang, Weather Wizard, “Justice Lords Flash” (who was really just Reverse Flash, let’s be real), Mirror Master...it’s the most complete set of Rogues you can get, actually. But they were terrible figures; the Dorito-like shape of the shoulder to waist ratio combined with the narrow feet of the figure guaranteed that these toys would not stay upright without a stand. They had no articulation, and most came without weapons. But you could get three-packs of them in Target for like $12, and they were designed with children in mind, so. 3.5 out of 5, because frankly, the Timmverse designs will always tug at my nostalgia strings.

Captain Cold is available in two official LEGO forms

The first is from the Mighty Macros line, and features Len vs the Flash in a racecar vs snowmobile race. It’s very cute and easy to build. The second is the more challenging Gorilla Grodd Goes Bananas set, which also includes Flash, Grodd, and strangely enough, Batman and Wonder Woman. I never owned that set, and it’s pretty hard to find these days, regularly running $80 and up. Both sets are a 5 out of 5, though, because LEGO does not mess around when it comes to quality fun.

I saved my favorites for last. In the 70s, there was a line of toys called MEGOs, which were plastic-bodied toys with cloth suits. Mattel, and later the Figures Toy Company, would both do their own versions of Captain Cold

The first version, by Mattel, is amazing. Mine is literally sitting next to me as I type this. I took him to Universal with me when I won a trip to Halloween Horror Nights back in 2015, I take him to the movies with me when I don’t have anyone else to go with, he’s my little buddy. My dad’s dog, again, chewed his left arm completely off at one point, but I don’t care. I love him. As for the Figures Toys version, I actually won a fairly cheap auction for him earlier this week, so we shall see! I don’t know if I like how he has the whole “Super Friends hypothermia Len” look going on, but I do like how his costume isn’t just cheap, tearable vinyl. We shall see what’s under that hood soon. I give the Mattel one a 5 out of 5 for the years of joy he’s given me. The Figures Toys one is pending, but I’m gonna give a tentative 4 out of 5, because it really does look nice.

You could get Len in other forms, like as a game piece in the Heroclix and Dice Masters games, as a paintable figure for a Batman tabletop roleplaying game, as trading cards, as a set of guitar picks, as a card holder, as a very hard to find but still lovely statue from DC Direct, in official pin form from Funko and Fansets, on an old 7-Eleven cup, and of course, in the pages of the comics...but I’ve always liked toys, so that’s what I decided to go over. Hope y’all enjoyed this, and maybe got some ideas for your own collections.

#Len Snart #Captain Cold #Flash Rogues #toys #long post #image heavy

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jstevens1015 · 7 years

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WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER

Hey! Alright so one of the main reasons I decided to start writing on Tumblr at least semi-regularly was to translate some of the thoughts in my crazy and sporadic mind to a concrete format. Sometimes the thoughts build up so much and I never express them, whether verbally or written, so it can become overwhelming. While I am an English major with a Bachelor’s degree, I still find myself struggling to formulate thoughts and reasoning that make sense to anyone but myself and I am even worse about committing these thoughts to memory or paper so I am going to use this as not only a writing tool but hopefully as a self-improvement tool as well.

With that being said, I’d like to take this opportunity to express some feelings that I’ve been having lately about one of my favorite passions: video games. YO THEY ARE SUPER GREAT. But maybe also super awful at times.

I’ve had a love affair with video games since I was maybe around four or five years old. My dad was a big video game fan when he was my age and carried on this passion throughout early and middle adulthood. He lived through the Atari era so he was basically on the fuckin’ landing grounds of the creation of my favorite past time. I remember him telling me how great games like Pong and Pac-Man were and how he couldn’t believe how far they advance in terms of graphics and capabilities every time there is a new system release.

The first gaming system I ever had was a Sega Genesis. I have some splendid memories of playing Sonic the Hedgehog, Mutant League Football, Streets of Rage 2 and many more games that I can’t possibly remember all at once. And since I was a young and dumb kid, I even got to experience some of the more obscure titles that most older folks wouldn’t have played at the time. These would especially include licensed movie titles like Power Rangers and Home Alone, among others. While games based on movies often get a bad reputation, I distinctly remember enjoying these two titles particularly because of my ever-growing love of the source material. The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers movie game was a side-scrolling beat ‘em up very similar to Streets of Rage 2 so that is likely why I enjoyed this title so much. And man was it a shit ton of fun playing Home Alone and setting traps for Harry and Marv to fall into.

Okay. Let’s get back on track. So my dad started my love for gaming by sharing his memories and experiences and by purchasing me a Sega Genesis. Blah blah blah. Flash forward to my teenage years. By this time, I was long past my 8 bit and 16 bit gaming days and was into 3D gaming systems that were far advanced from the good ‘ol Atari or Genesis days. I watched in amazement as my dad marveled again at “how good this shit looks” and forever possessing the “what will they do next” philosophy and mindset.

On a related note, I remember the day that we finally got high speed internet in my household. Although we lived in the country and were only able to obtain speeds of 1mbps, it was like luxury living for people who formerly lived with dial-up internet. The reason why this is worth mentioning is because this now opened up a whole new world for me: the world of online gaming. Boy, did I not have a clue how great and equally terrifying this would be for me.

As I became older, I became at least slightly more skilled at playing games than when I was younger. However, I could not understand why the people who played games online against me in multiplayer modes were so much better. I struggled with this a lot and, admittedly, it’s a personal problem that I still have. I’m not sure if I have a competitive complex that I don’t like to reason with or if it’s something else but goddamn do I have some gaming-related anger and self-esteem issues. You would’ve likely heard me yelling in frustration in these angst-driven years, screaming phrases such as OH MY GOD THIS GUY HAS KILLED ME TEN TIMES IN A ROW AND I HAVEN’T EVEN LEFT MY RESPAWN AREA. WHY AM I SO BAD AT THIS? WHY IS HE CROUCHING UP AND DOWN ABOVE MY CHARACTER’S DEAD BODY?!?!

There is a point I’m going to make. God I’m bad at this. SEE THERE IT IS AGAIN.

My parents, especially my dad, became very angry that I was angry over a video game. The hobby that he once loved so much had mostly become a thing of the past (besides occasional sports games) so he couldn’t possibly understand why a simple hobby was making me so angry. I tried reasoning with him, stating the idea that he was likely angry when he lost to the AI on his older games. He told me he never remembered getting angry because “it was just a game” and “it’s just a computer” and that he never reacted in such a strong way.

Then, it clicked.

The reason why I get so angry about playing games online is because I am personally interacting with real human beings and not just a computer, not just a form of artificial intelligence. A real, living, breathing, swearing, mother insulting person. And people. SO MANY PEOPLE ALL ONLINE AT ONCE. And these real people don’t give a single fuck about my feelings or how bad I am at the game. Their mission is to make their player beat or destroy or kill my player. It’s truly just a game and shouldn’t hold such a great weight on anyone’s mind but online gaming has a way of making it feel personal and I think that’s why it still has the ability to fill me with such a completely unjustifiable rage.

This brings us to present day. While I still play games online quite often, I feel that my experiences and feelings have changed. I am no longer a child or even a teenager. I am a twenty-five year old man with two part-time jobs, a fiancee, a cat, an apartment to clean and maintain and bills to pay. SO WHY THE HELL AM I STILL GETTING MAD OVER VIDEO GAMES?

I think that we, as an obviously imperfect species of living biology, are always striving for better. I have clearly evolved and matured as person but there is still that part of me that wants to break shit and throw things when I lose. Maybe I’m just a sore loser. I probably am. BUT. There is so much shit wrong with this world, especially in 2017, that we tend to expect to gain happiness and success out of the hobbies, interests and activities that we spend our free time on while the rest of our time is spent working or sleeping. I’m not sure if this is true for everyone but I think it’s true for me. I think that everything in my life is so uncertain, so messy, so complicated and so challenging for me that I expect my hobbies to provide me an escape from reality and responsibility and send waves of happiness to my screwed up brain.

Speaking of happiness, I want to mention one of the main reasons why I was prompted to write this very long post. Well, maybe not long by Tumblr standards but surely by my own!

I have recently been playing a game called Playerunknown’s Battlegrounds. It’s a PC game I’ve been playing with my friend Ben on Steam. The elevator pitch for this game is imagine you’ve been put into a Hunger Games style world where you are dropped on an island and must fight to the death with all the other inhabitants. It is simply amazing to realize that there are up to one hundred people in any given match of this game and it could be one hundred different people that you are fighting every time. One hundred different characters that represent one hundred real people, just like you and me. Except maybe not as nice. This game is super stressful, intimidating and difficult at times but HOLY SHIT it is fun. I can honestly say it is one of the best experiences I’ve ever had with a video game. The constant desire to finally get that win, or “chicken dinner” as the game refers to it, is the pure carnal force that is driving me to keep playing. I keep telling myself the frustration will pay off and I will eventually win.

Well, long story short, I have played countless matches of this game with Ben and I had never won a game of it until last night. We have made it into the top ten out of fifty teams on several occasions and have put over fifteen hours into this game so far but had never won up until this point. I won’t describe this play-by-play but here’s the general gist of it: my friend Ben died early in this match so I was left alone to proceed through the rest of the match. At first, I was completely unsure of how I could possibly proceed without him but then the number of players left in the game started sinking lower and lower until I was finally in the last ten remaining. And then eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. There were three players left, including myself. I had not landed many accurate shots in this match thus far and was almost sure that I would blow this. At last, I fired my virtual assault rifle and eliminated the last player. A screen popped up that said, “WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER!” and gave me some match statistics. I was in a state of shock as Ben yelled in excitement and couldn’t believe it. After hours of trial and error, I had finally won.

I know this post may sound completely trivial and unimportant to anyone but me. The truth is that video games mean a lot to me and being good at them means more than I wish it did. But I think that video games aren’t nearly as irrelevant or pointless as some people make them out to be. Personally, this was a learning experience for me that I needed to have long before adulthood. Sometimes, trial and error is the only method that leads to success. But if you don’t try in the first place, you can’t even reach the point of error. I worked past my fear of being bad at video games and the judgment that would follow by the other players and I accomplished a goal.

Simply put, I expect too much from video games. They have given me fun and happiness for years but how dare they not do this 100 percent of the time or else it will inevitably lead to me being pissed off and destructive.

So thank you, video games. You non-living, virtual, amazing, bullshit, absolutely wonderful creation.

#video games #winner #long post #battlegrounds #success

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hyttesanger · 7 years

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The workshop where Hyunwoo works at is hot and rather suffocating despite the early winter season. When Mijoo arrives, he and few other staffs are trying out an old bike they've been working on for awhile now. Its frame creaking and exhaust pipe coughing thick cloud when Hyunwoo kicks the start lever. The poor thing's never gonna make it back to life, he supposes.

"Hey, Shownu! Someone's been looking for you!"

The guy glances over his shoulder towards the voice calling him, mouth forming an 'o' at the least expected guest that is coming looking for him.

"'Sup? It's rare for you to come here." Leaving the bike on the corner, he usheres Mijoo out. He grabs a towel to clean his grimy hands on the way. They sit themselves on the curb, Mijoo leans her back against a sign post pole, hunched inside her four years old coat as cold wind instantly assails her.

"Where do I sign up for that Hit The Stage you mentioned before?"

Hyunwoo's usually stoic face immediately turns alarmed, and Mijoo only smiles bitterly.

"I need the money."

"Are you out of your mind? This is out of your league, you know that!" He rasps, meeting her gaze steadily for a solid moment. But the woman doesn't falter.

"It's okay. I don't care even if I have to break myself in order to fix her."

———————

Hit The Stage is tournament with pre single-elimination system - once you lose, you're kicked out right away. It's ruthless concept, but at the same time will save lots of time and energy especially for Mijoo, who relies more on strategies plus fortune than physical strength this time. She is strong, of course. No one would look down on her at the stage, and the audience had been long since stopped mocking her wins were all thanks to the men go easy on her. But this is different - five billion is another level of prize, means another level of risk. Everyone would go ape-shit for that kind of money.

The tournament managed to reap attentions from not less than hundred of fighters from all over the country, some are beyond strong Mijoo is sure they could split limbs in one snap, some others just clueless weaklings who doesn't know what they're getting themselves into. Qualification matches had been over few days ago and every contestant's received the official round of 32 schedule - which Mijoo hung on the gym’s wall, right beside where she's doing bench press right now.

Glancing at the names, Mijoo has predicted potential threats. Most of the favourite candidates are consecutive champions from different areas in South Korea. Out of all, she personally knows Hoya, someone with longest winning streak in underground fighting scene of Busan. And Hyoyeon was once a regular in the same stage as well as her biggest rival, before that woman moved back to Incheon.

And Shownu. Of course she knows Shownu. Knows that he's as desperate to win. Knows that he, too, wants the money so badly to build a new, better life for someone he loves once she's released from her the jail.

The woman is Nicole.

Mijoo had once accused him of stealing her childhood sweetheart, but that's way too old story now. They're truly meant for each other, is what she decided after watching how Hyunwoo had been so dedicated for the woman. Meanwhile herself, was just a whiny kid who couldn't accept that her favourite playmate wasn't hers after all. It was heartbreaking to see them falling apart after Nicole was arrested, yet as much as Mijoo wants to support Hyunwoo, she herself also unable to give up now. How could things end up this way? Destiny is bitch, she remembers Soojung had said. Maybe it's not wrong.

"You love to peek at people working out, huh?"

From her peripheral vision, Mijoo registers the presence of her significant other leaning against doorframe of the gym's entrance. Wearing unobtrusive teal shirt and knees length skirt, she's probably on lunch break. Mijoo doesn't remember giving the address of Hyunseung's gym to Soojung though. Must be Bora again, she sighs.

"Ain't need up-close view, even from here I can smell your sweaty ass. Gross." Soojung and her sass; there's nothing new and Mijoo is honestly glad for it. Few days prior to the competition they'd almost got into hellish argument because the older woman was so against the idea of her going back to illegal fighting. She only relented after Mijoo promised would withdraw in an instance when situation grows out of the range she can handle.

"All this training seems tiring.." Soojung gingerly pads down the empty gym room towards her girlfriend, still making exaggerated motion of covering her nose. "If you haven't had any plan, I'll come to give you a good massage tomorrow. It's national holiday."

"I see you really admire this hot body.. Thanks, feel so appreciated." Mijoo flashes mischievous grin, deliberately lifting the heavy barbell up only to prove a point that she is so fit. Damn this woman is sexy and she knows it.

"Why did I want to date this shameless shit— Don't make that face!" The grin only grows wider Soojung wonders how is it not hurting to stretch mouth that wide.

"Your denial’s starting to lose its charm... Tsundere."

"Weeb."

"I don't watch as much as our friendly neighbor Jisoo though."

"Please don't, I'm gonna really strangle you if you ever call me kawaii waifu."

"Let's stop. I can get injured if you make me laugh more than this." Mijoo carefully puts the barbell down onto the upright above her head and sits up. Soojung still looks like she's going to barf her guts out at fucking 'kawaii waifu' while the fighter grabs a bottle of water, giggling annoyingly.

"Well, serious, sans innuendo speaking now, I'm good at giving massage."

"Mhm." Mijoo just hums, too busy downing her mineral water as though she just came back from one day trip around Sahara.

"My... Mother. She said so. I liked to give her massage after she got back from work. Long time ago, when we were... Happy." Soojung continues unexpectedly.

"... Oh." The black haired woman replies, partially stunned and somewhat feeling her heart sinking as she taking in the other woman's hunched shoulders. Small and lonely. Wounds that permanently sting.

Mijoo tosses the empty bottle accurately into trash box by the corner of the room, then grabs Soojung by arm, lightly tugging her closer. "How long do you have before heading back to work?"

"About... Half an hour, why?"

"Keep me company please. In the shower."

Soojung doesn't move for long, dumbfounded moment. Mijoo wheezes with laughter.

"I don't mean it that way! Just.. I just got this urge to hug you. Can't do it now because, yeah, I'm stink and all sweat and nasty."

———————

"You've got to know this." Soojung hears Mijoo says. Between soothing sound of warm water spraying from above. Fingers gently scraping against her scalp.

"I'm feeling so lucky just to have you. No matter what others think, you're precious."

———————

Since the beginning, Mijoo had sternly told her that she isn't allowed to watch her during the match. She also have never spoken a word about who's she up against in every game, leaving Soojung in complete dark. Thus the woman distracted herself with work; studying financial opportunities and planning new strategy for next year, counseling few of her subordinates, monitoring the company projects' progression.

Yet instead of help, all of them only doubled her frustration. In the middle of the night Soojung would be staying on her room in the office, emotionally wrung out because the what ifs and self-hatred stack of paperworks failed to hinder from infiltrating her mind. There was fuck all she could do about it.

In the end, she visits the venue where Hit The Stage's quarterfinal takes place. The hosts set the location pretty far on industrial area almost an hour drive from downtown of Seoul, the building belongs to nation's biggest electronic company and still partially functioning during midday.

Recessed so low in the underground, the stage's so much bigger than previous one Soojung had visited. It has lighting effects, laser and fog machine, glamorous stuffs like that. They even got DJ for side entertainment. The owner is undoubtedly avid fan of illegal fighting, hence amazing amount of prize and assurance for safety that police wouldn't sniff around their activities.

There, Soojung witnesses Mijoo taking apart another fighter. The guy wriggles his limbs, face contorted by pain under her heavy boots, then goes lax and completely unmoving. Nauseating feeling rushes over Soojung when people around her stand up and cheer rowdily as the referee raises Mijoo's hand and announcing she advances to the semifinal.

Hyunseung's already waiting for her by the time the game ends. They pass securities easily and head straight to the waiting room - an actual room and not isolated section in the corner separated by cheap, thin boards for fighters and their team to do preparations before the match starts.

When Soojung strides into the room, Mijoo is still in her usual shorts and tank top. She's sweating profusely and short of breath, brain all mixed up with hallucinations, crowded within her skull. This sight is another reason why Mijoo never wanted her girlfriend to come watch her. This is the reality of her; the stage is for loser, and despite winning, she is a loser.

"Effects from the stimulant." Bora answers the unsaid question quietly. "She's gonna be okay, once it wears off."

"Can I talk to her?"

Bora and Hyunseung look at each other before looking back at Soojung.

"Sure thing." Bora decides.

They walk slightly further away to the corner, giving way for the short woman, but wary eyes never leaving the pair as Soojung's taking an empty seat before Mijoo. The latter doesn't spare even a single attention at Soojung for awhile, her eyes bloodshot, its dark orbs shift from side to side and never still.

"Hey, how are you feeling? Do you get what I'm saying?" Soojung's voice is gentle, patiently watching the fighter's struggling to touch the edge of reality. Fading in and out and in again, inhaling deep breath, one by agonizing one.

"I'm a monster."

"No, no, you are not." Soojung says, exerting an assurance into the tone as much as possible. She reaches out, sliding the hairtie off to loosen Mijoo's ponytail, then smoothing down the tangled dark tresses.

"Let's go home, okay?"

Home. Mijoo shuts her eyes, drifting mind slowly comes to a halt.

Home means where she and Soojung soundly tucked under the blanket, small arms laying on top of her chest protectively, healing her wounds. Home is where all she could hear is peaceful, even heartbeats. Home means the next morning she will wake up to simple, freshly toasted bread and hot coffee.

Home means Soojung's smile.

"Yes." A deep, content sigh. Mijoo is back. "Yes. Take me home."

———————

Mijoo watches the other semifinal stage three days after she won hers. One of two tickets to the last game has been secured for her, now it's time to confirm who's her next rival.

Every naive supporter would say she's lucky if Shownu wins tonight. Mijoo otherwise hopes the other candidate - a guy stands six feet tall, living up to his nickname The Bulldozer - wins tonight.

To them, Shownu probably wouldn't be characterized so much as a death threat, meanwhile this bull guy can literally dislocate half of all bones on her skeletal system in just one second with just one single blow. News said his opponents from last two games before this went straight hospital's ER. Mijoo, however, knows better than thinking that way. To have your best friend as your rival could be the most horrible thing.

Referee fires the starter pistol, officially beginning the match, and Mijoo is thrown back to eighteen years ago. When she was around six or seven, and Son Hyunwoo first arrived to the orphanage. Despite being two years older, this scrawny new boy was so fragile, did nothing but moping and crying by the swings on the backyard. He was from rich family before his parents passed away, rumor had it, so no doubt Hyunwoo acted like a delicate prince and ended up being target of other kids' mean pranks. It was Mijoo who stepped to his side when bullies came circling and orphanage staffs tried to hit him with stick for being too much of crybaby.

Instead of let him admire her as his superhero - she would kill if any of those boys call her hyung - Mijoo taught Hyunwoo to stand for himself; how to speak up when there's something bothering him, how to use his fist to punch back and not only wipe his tears. When the whole house fell asleep, long after the curfew, they would be out - three of them including Nicole - exploring the town with delirious joy, finding some family diners who gave free food when they made convincing enough puppy eyes. It was the greatest fun they ever had during their childhood, although by the morning they would get caught and punished them mercilessly.

Perhaps no one would ever adopt them, they knew it well. Couple with no child usually would go to more reputable foster institutions to get more non-problematic kid. But it was alright. They had each other, and there was nowhere else they'd rather be instead.

Hyunwoo and Mijoo had only ever fought three times for their entire life. All three of them, it was always about a dispute over Nicole. When the woman went to jail, she made them swear to never fight each other anymore. Right now, that promise is one thing she wishes to forget the most. Burden from each word said that day creeping along her spine; bond that they'd sworn would remain unbreakable, memory of every up and down they'd gone through together.

It would be good if she could forget it all, just for one moment.

Long whistle blown, followed by wild victorious chants from audience, guiding Mijoo back to present time. There's an enormous LED screen across from where she's standing, displaying information of the current match. Just now, another name has been put into the empty bracket next to hers.

Hit The Stage Final Match: Mijoo vs. Shownu.

She lowers her baseball cap until it covers half of her face, padding out the exit door without looking back.

———————

"Bora-ssi. Why do most fighters resort to PED?"

Soojung just sent Mijoo out to get some drinks, so they are alone in the gym now, and Bora blinks at the question. Like, duh. "It's performance enhancing drugs, so it... Of course, enhances their performance. Significantly."

"Since this is illegal fighting, there's no rule that keep the athlete from using banned drugs, there's no such thing as you play dirty here. If anything, sponsors would instead encourage the usage because it would make the game more fun to watch. With the stimulant, fighters get lots of advantages, can instantly increase their strength, aggressiveness, pain tolerance..." She elaborates expertly. Two of them are sitting leisurely at some unused fitness equipment.

"Ungodly amount would drive you to blank out. Who's your opponent, how many punches you land on them or landed on yourself, you're standing in the stage with sole purpose of winning, and that's that. Like being hypnotized into a fighting machine." That explains the whole mess Soojung had seen in the waiting room the other day.

"It does come with a price, sure. Side effects range from rapid heart beat, insomnia, mini stroke to loss of motoric skills, organ failure and permanent brain damage."

"I'll supervise the dose she's consuming everytime myself, if that's what you're worried of. So don't be." Bora continues with a small smile, because Soojung right now seems utterly baffled. "She knows her limit too, just trust her."

"I do. Had I not trusted her, I'd never let Mijoo do this." Soojung frowns, absent-mindedly standing up and lifting one of the dumbbell lining on a rack beside her, surprising Bora when she actually able to swing the heavy object. "But you're right, maybe I'm a little bit too concerned."

"Yes. Overprotective, is what you truly are." The older woman chuckles. "Y'know, you and Mijoo is like the cutest couple alive. I'm not joking." Soojung almost drop the dumbbell, and Bora laughs even harder.

"Why are you all like this? No one's really called me cute or friendly before."

"Mhm. I thought so too at first. You were like a strict, exactly 180 degrees opposite of Mijoo and to be frank, I thought you two wouldn't last long." Bora says. She reclines over a training bench with both hands as pillow. "But nowadays all I see is just Soojung and Mijoo are stupidly happy in love, the kind of couple I dare to bet will stay together until earth stops spinning."

"I am not—"

"See, you're smiling... You smiled a lot when you're with or talking about Mijoo." A hand pointing directly at her face intercepts Soojung's words. “It means she draws out your good side, doesn't it?"

Soojung skids to a full stop. Doesn't budge even when Mijoo kicks the door open and comes stomping in gorilla-like manner.

"You two sent me out to this deadly freezing weather just so you can gossip about me?!"

Drawing out good side, huh?

She watches mutely the two women wrestle and Bora screeches unnie speak good things about you in front of your girl and this is how you repay me??, feeling how easy her lips can curve into a smile at such trivial moment now.

Guess it's true.

———————

They meet on the waiting room before the match starts. It's Hyunwoo who shows up in front of Mijoo's room, knocking two times to get an attention from the woman who's seemingly so engrossed on her own thought. Earlier she'd told her crews she wanted some alone time, so nobody else is present by now.

"Oh it's you. Hey." Mijoo greets plainly, but makes no motion. Hyunwoo walks inside, stopping beside his best friend with only few feet between them. They are standing facing a mirror, a ridiculously big one, whoever put it probably thought it’s cool to make this place looks like dressing room for celebrities. Both simply staring at each other through it.

"How are you, big guy?"

"Good. You?"

"Never better. I finally have a reason to break your neck. Woo yay." She jokes. Hyunwoo, however, doesn't find it funny.

"Listen, Mijoo. We can arrange something for this game. I don't need—"

"I don't need your sympathy." Mijoo cuts in. Finally turns to her best friend, expression steady as iron. "We are basically chasing same thing here, we fight for someone dear to us. Let us fight with all our might, for we both love our respective woman and deserve equal chance to make them happy."

She moves a step closer, extending her palm, corner of her lips tugging upwards. "Don't pull your punch, okay? Promise me you'll hit me as hard as you did back then when we fight for the first time."

———————

Mijoo remembers being seventeen and meeting someone who was trainer for an illegal fighter. He was pretty much old, with shaggy hair and wrinkled forehead, most of his teeth were artificial ones, if not gone already. An ex-soldier, he told her rather proudly. So in the beginning, Mijoo had thought the huge burn scars he had on his body was result of his hard work defending this country's safety. Turned out it wasn't. Not quite. Because when he got that scar, he was trying to save his boyfriend.

Long story short, there was an arson, the building where the guy stayed was set on fire, everybody else had given up except the soldier. It was crazy. Very slim chance they could make it alive, even slimmer they could be together without being exiled from society for being homosexuals during those time in the 90s.

"Why did you even do that? Weren't you scared of death?" Mijoo had asked. She's seen similar heroic yet foolish acts in movies and it had always intrigued her.

He didn't give any comment, only saying one day Mijoo would understand one day, a spark she couldn't decipher at that time in his eyes.

Recently, Mijoo had heard same question a lot from people around her. Soojung. Hyunseung and Bora. Even Nicole when she visited the jail before tournament started.

Are you sure you wanna risk it? You're not scared?

To be honest, she is. And she's certain so is Hyunwoo. To date, this is probably will be the most fucked up fight they would ever fight.

But then she looks at Soojung, and the answer is like popped out by itself before her. She's found someone so important in her life and that woman just dwarfs everything else. Including fear.

One last long breath. Mijoo lets the audience's cheers as her name being called wash over all her doubts. Bora's eyes go wide when she hands a clear plastic bag containing six small bottles and an used syringe, eyes red as she walks against bright spotlight and towards her final stage.

———————

It's been like this since she came to Mijoo's flat six hour ago and forced herself to sleep; an hour of tossing and turning, about twenty minutes dozing off, then there's same nightmare of bloody matted floor and unalive eyes so vivid it jerks Soojung from slumber nearly screaming to redo the first step again. The circle goes on and on. Giving up after the third time, she pulls back the blanket and goes to get some drink. This place has felt like home for so long now Soojung's able to move around taking out few cans of beer from the fridge without the lights on.

The short woman sits down on the couch, still not bother turning on the lamp because she finds the half darkness somehow more comforting. As her previously loud, racing heartbeat slows down into more steady rhythm, everything lapses into a standstill. Some time ago she and Mijoo had fixed and cleaned the one and only window in the room, now the transparent glass surface is spotless and has sheer white curtain, large full moon shines through it brilliantly. It's funny to think how pretty the world outside seem to be while myriad of emotions gnawing at her.

The clock ticks by, its hands pointing at three and twelve. Suddenly there's a faint whisper of rolling wheels scraping against the floor. The sound is almost deafening; louder, closer, and eventually stops behind her door. Soojung's stomach flips with anticipation as her eyes fixated in the dark, at that piece of wood creaking open in slow motion.

Except, the person who emerges later isn't Mijoo. It is Shownu, his form silhouetted in the dim light of apartment hall.

"Son Hyunwoo-ssi?"

Soojung bolts up from her seat, strutting towards the tall guy, she can't hide her disappointment of seeing him instead of Mijoo. His right arm haphazardly bandaged, and some more patch are visible on his collarbone underneath his shirt. He walks limply, struggling to haul a handling trolley with huge wooden box which seemingly was used to keep wines, blue padded coat drapes over one of his shoulder.

"Why are you here? Where's Mijoo?" Now standing close, Soojung notices a big, big bruise on his face that makes her stomach churn with dread. Something's gone wrong. Soojung knows what Mijoo is capable of, and this isn't it; no matter how strong she is, she would never be able to beat Hyunwoo up to this extent. Her girlfriend usually wins over bigger enemy by clever tactics, taking advantage of her agile build to avoid getting striked, then counterattacks right when her opponent has run out of breath. Even Mijoo herself had said this kind of trick might not work on Hyunwoo since they've been training together and practically memorized each other's techniques so well, thus in all honesty Soojung was more certain she wouldn't win tonight.

"There's five billion here.." Hyunwoo points at the box, insistently looking down avoiding Soojung's curious gaze.

"But where's Mijoo?"

"Mijoo told me to give the money to you. She won. I'm only here to inform you—"

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT WIN OR LOSE OR MONEY! WHERE. IS. SHE?" She screeches, yanking him down by his shirt's collar so roughly the thin cotton material is slightly torn and his coat falls over the floor.

"I'm sorry, Soojung-ssi. I really am." Dropping to his knees, Hyunwoo's voice cracks with sob. "She— She's been overdosing."

———————

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