@seo inguk. [ I was being so good-- I hadn't thought of anything ed all night and then BAM! you q n q fuq bby, fuq...
Ohhhhhh that makes tons of sense u v u Me too kinda sorta. Haven't played anyone like Kangjoon in forever]
Every pace that prodded against the faded tilework screamed a muffled portrayal of the man's own restlessness. Decisions ebbed the very crevices of his mind to linger in rivulets of reality, HIS reality, as a stark contrast to the very desires he forced into silence. This was dangerous, that'd been guaranteed from the get-go. He'd known that his actions would only garner a steady domino effect of vengeance, that tossing glances over his shoulder and bearing alliases like t-shirts would be his new forever. But he still had the nerve to be stricken with surprise when they finally contacted him... and even more so when he realized how ill-prepared he was. His apartment had always worn a steady foreshadow of abandonment. Time seemed to take a breath in waiting for the imminent exhale. The future he couldn't wriggle free of.
And it was this sort of maddening mentality that got him caught up in so much .
The first step had gone cleanly unnoticed by his ears, cotton-cushioned by the persistence of his own thoughts. He assumed the man had been about nine paces in before Kangjoon even recognized he was behind him... A rookie mistake. His breathing evened out- asbestos and carpet burns lining his lungs in a gentle anchor of reality- as he focused. The other's footfalls were becoming clearer now. Closer. Faster. And so were his... Kangjoon's grip on his basket tightened as he eased down the hall, eyes shifting for any means of reflection. But by then, he'd already convinced himself that the unknown stranger was of Syndicate. Paranoia was a sadistic little friend that latched to his knees the moment he fled the grouo, and he could practically hear it whispering sweet nothings into his psyche.
315... 313... 311...
The elevator extended arms to him at the end of the corridor, but he knew he'd be setting himself up for a death trap there. But he figured there was no better way to go than with Frank Sinatra crooning into your ears, no matter how confined the space... The narrow doorway yards beyond it caught his eye, as did the stair step sigh that poised on its exterior. A stairway... And no sooner did he notice this alternative than was he heaving the basket over his shoulder with a grunt, linens flying towards the feet of his assailant as Kangjoon hauled his . Now breaking into a full sprint, he veered through the distance and wrenched the door open in a huff. He dared not look back. He knew better... Merely threw himself into the cement stairwell and cut along towards the lower level.
@seo kangjoon. < hushhhh length doesn't matter itsthemotionoftheocean so just do what feels right cupcake u v u
i mean i do a lot of waffling myself so i think most of this is fluff / me tryna figure out my muse's mindset tbqh >
This seemed like exactly the stupid sort of thing he would be ridiculed for. Months of searching, poring over files, sifting through clues, hitting numerous dead-ends, and it turns out the thing he had been looking for lived in the same damn building. What were the odds of that? A member of a notorious drug ring, right under his nose (well, two floors above to be exact) and he had been none the wiser. But it was still much too early to rejoice. The evidence didn’t explicitly reveal Seo Kangjoon as the mastermind behind the operation. Hell, it was barely enough to say that he was involved, which was probably why the man hadn’t been arrested yet. The police always did everything by the book. Acting on a hunch was a waste of time and resources according to the chief, who seemed much keener on wasting both running popularity campaigns.
While Inguk’s desire to pursue the organization stemmed from less than noble intentions, he could at least say he was getting something done. He had taken it upon himself to track down Syndicate in his spare time, but his efforts were met with little results until now. Inguk wasn’t even entirely sure why he was going through such lengths. It wasn’t as if this was going to convince the department to boost him up through the ranks or glorify him as a hero. Perhaps that had been his original goal, but now it was simply a matter of passing time; a means of finding both amusement and some semblance of worth. In between settling domestic disturbances and petty theft, this was easily the most exciting thing Inguk had in his life. So as it follows, there was a very large chance he would screw it up.
Caution and insecurity weighed his feet to the ground, made him linger by the corner while his mind cycled through a series of possible ways to approach Seo Kangjoon. But before he could decide, the opening of a door disrupted his thoughts and the stillness of the hallway. Inguk immediately recognized the profile of the man he had been reading about on paper. Kangjoon’s mind was clearly elsewhere. The vacancy in his eyes and the listlessness in his steps were a good indicator. It was now or never. Inguk’s jaw tightened along with his resolve as he struck out from behind the wall and silently followed Kangjoon’s trail.
@seo inguk. The polyester blend of the few dress shirts he hadn't managed to salvage from the wreckage of the week whispered against his fingertips. The soft sigh that escaped Kangjoon's lips was swallowed whole, even in the tiny expanse that enclosed him. Keep up. He had to keep up. He had to ing keep everything up. But that was difficult, it seemed, when the hands he'd used to rip out the throats of tax collecting hounds could only tremble now. And he could only fear for what they'd do to him... Hazel-tinged eyes drifted across the carpeted flooring, scaling a path of dread towards the crisp letter resting innocently on the counter. They'd contacted him... For the first time in what could only be years. They'd found him- Syndicate, the very gang he'd fought tooth and nail to wriggle from. The very gang he'd siphoned out thousands of won from in order to begin anew... The very gang that taught him everything he now knows- from how to commit a murder to how to cover it with dust. And they'd found him.
His clothes piled high in the wicker basket, signaling to him how neglectful he'd been to himself as of late... If he had Alissa with him that week, he'd highly doubt it. But her mother- he was still so hesitant to even gift her that title- seemed adamant on showing her grandparents the beautiful little girl she was opting to give up. The hall beyond his quarters was abuzz with only the gentle hum of the air conditioning unit, the one Mr. Choi had mentioned getting replaced... eight months ago. Kangjoon couldn't recall whether or not he'd locked his door- did he even close it?- but by then, he was already tailing the end of the hallway, too far down to really think much on that now.
