Mechanical Me

@დ Kang Daesung Despite his lack of need for sleep, Wooseok felt a strange sense of restfulness as his systems hummed with steady energy. The occasional spark within his core flared briefly through the night, a subtle warning of something stirring within his programming. For now, though, the stillness of the workshop and the soft movements of his master were enough to ground him. Sensing the faint shift in the stillness around him, Wooseok stirred awake. His optics flickered to life as he sat up on the cot. The first sight that greeted him was Daesung's gentle expression, the corners of his lips turning up in a quiet smile, one he hadn’t realized he could make. Relief washed over him as the events of the previous day solidified in his mind, no longer some fragmented memory or imagined encounter, fearing it all may have been a dream for him, not sure if he was even capable of having dreams.

Wooseok’s gaze drifted to the pad in Daesung’s hands. He leaned forward to read the words, nodding with an eagerness that surprised even himself. "An apprentice?" The thought sparked something warm and unfamiliar, perhaps a purpose beyond his existence as a machine. And the idea of venturing out into the world with his master filled him with cautious excitement. Rising from the cot, he felt the slightest flicker in his optics, a brief flash of red that made him freeze. For a fleeting moment, he felt as though he wasn’t himself, as if there was a tug at the edges of his consciousness that threatened to pull him away but then it was gone. He shook his head gently, dismissing the strange sensation, and turned his attention back to Daesung. “Do we leave now?” he asked calmly, though he couldn’t ignore the shadow of unease lingering in his mind.

Moving to the door, Wooseok pulled it open and stepped aside to let Daesung pass, a small but deliberate gesture of respect. Yet as the door swung wider, the cold wind that greeted them sent a shiver through his frame. Though his instincts warned him to remain on guard, Wooseok pushed the unease aside. His gaze flicked back to Daesung, his smile light and steady as if to reassure him. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing toward the world beyond the door despite an unspoken question lingering in his mind, "What was that flicker... and what did it mean?"

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥✔ The soft hum of the workshop greeted Daesung as he stretched, his fingers crackling with the delicate tension of long hours spent hunched over blueprints and brass gears. A tinge of warmth spread through him—he had not expected to wake up to someone else's presence. It was a peculiar sensation, but not unwelcome. The cluttered room, with its towering shelves of clockwork parts, was his sanctuary. And today, it would be Wooseok’s too.

His eyes flickered to the workbench where Wooseok slept, the faint glow of the cyborg's optics dimmed for the moment. Daesung rose, quietly moving through the space with practiced grace, his hands gently brushing over half-finished contraptions. The oil-scented air was thick, filled with the promise of invention. He felt a pang of excitement as he looked at Wooseok, who stirred at his approach.

Grabbing his pad, Daesung scribbled a quick note. "Today, we begin your training as my apprentice. We're going to the Gearstone Market. I have parts to pick up for you."

His smile was shy but genuine as he held up the pad, the words clear and precise. There was something fragile, almost tentative in the way Daesung invited Wooseok into his world, a world built from magic, steel, and secrets. His fingers lingered on the pen, almost as if they were hesitant to part with the message.

Wooseok’s gaze met his, an unspoken understanding in the silent exchange. Daesung's heart fluttered. This, this was the beginning of something new, something unpredictable.

But as the air shifted—a soft mechanical whirr in the background—Daesung’s senses sharpened. There was something off, something brewing beneath the surface. The crackling of the air, the subtle shift in Wooseok’s posture—it was almost as if the gears of fate were beginning to turn.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Daesung froze, eyes narrowing as the first cold gust of wind entered the room, carrying with it a whisper of something far darker than the mechanical hums of the workshop.

A shadow lingered just beyond the threshold.

@დ Kang Daesung Wooseok’s optics tracked the falling debris, his systems calculating trajectories and potential risks. He was about to act when the shapeshifter moved first, his arm morphing into a tendril to sweep the rubble away with an effortless precision that left Wooseok momentarily awestruck. It was the first time he had seen such a display, and he couldn’t help but marvel. The adaptability, the strength was unlike anything he had encountered. For a moment, he reevaluated his earlier assumption of fragility, though his resolve to protect and serve the other remained unwavering.

Following Daesung’s lead, Wooseok effortlessly hefted a substantial pile of debris, his mechanical strength making quick work of the task. As they stepped into the junkyard, the sight that greeted him was indeed overwhelming. To most, it would seem like a cluttered mess, but to Wooseok, there was a strange charm to it. The remnants of creativity and purpose spoke to him in a way he didn’t quite understand. He then carefully placed the debris in a designated spot, pausing as Daesung scrawled a note on his pad. Reading the words, Wooseok processed the cautionary instructions, his gaze sweeping over the yard to memorize the areas Daesung had mentioned. Nodding to himself, he silently vowed to take the warnings seriously.

Back in the workshop, Wooseok’s sensors quietly noted the structural damage and disarray. It was evident the place needed work, and he instinctively began assessing what repairs might be required. But his focus quickly shifted when Daesung turned to him, notepad in hand, scribbling a message with a fervor that caught Wooseok’s attention. When he read the words, "Stay here. Help me. I’ll cover your repairs and give you a place to belong." Wooseok stilled. The last phrase struck him deeply. A place to belong. His optics glowed faintly brighter, the blue hue of his mechanical eye softening to match the warmth in his human one. Since awakening, his existence had been marked by isolation and uncertainty. He had drifted through this unfamiliar world, unsure of his purpose or place. But here, this stranger, this man, offered him not just help but a chance at something more. Wooseok’s lips curled into a faint, tentative smile, mirroring Daesung’s own. For someone like him, whose identity often felt fractured and undefined, this simple gesture carried profound meaning. “Thank you.” he said softly, his voice steady but tinged with something close to emotion. Reaching out, Wooseok clasped Daesung’s extended hand, his grip firm but careful. In that moment, his gesture conveyed more than gratitude but was a silent promise. A vow to dedicate himself to Daesung’s service, to repay the kindness he’d been shown in every way he could.

Briefly, his optics flickered to a stark white hue, a subtle shift that passed in an instant, barely perceptible. Yet it marked something, an anomaly or perhaps, a quiet acknowledgment of change within him. As he released Daesung’s hand, Wooseok felt the faint stirrings of something he hadn’t known in what felt like an eternity: hope.
Wooseok’s gaze then swept over the workshop once more, a newfound determination flickering in his eyes. He briefly assessed the chaotic space before turning to Daesung, his expression resolute. “Where should we begin?” he asked, his readiness to dive into repairs evident, momentarily forgetting the late hour and the storm raging outside.

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥ Daesung’s signature smile, warm and inviting, spread across his face as he caught Wooseok mimicking his earlier gesture with an imaginary cup. The cyborg’s subtle humor eased the tension in the air, and for the first time in a long while, Daesung felt a genuine sense of connection.

The storm outside, however, had no such intention. A ferocious howl rattled the workshop, sending a sharp CRACK through the air as another chunk of the ceiling crashed to the floor. Startled but quick to act, Daesung extended his shapeshifter abilities, his arm morphing into a leaf-like tendril that gently swept debris into a pile.

His eyes flicked upward to Wooseok, a sheepish grin forming as he gestured toward the back patio. With exaggerated motions, he directed Wooseok to a labyrinthine junkyard just beyond the workshop. Twisted towers of scrap and forgotten experiments leaned precariously against each other, the remnants of a lifetime’s work scattered haphazardly in the snow-laden yard.

Daesung followed Wooseok’s gaze as it swept over the chaos, a pang of embarrassment tightening his chest. His grin faltered for only a moment before he scrawled quickly on his pad: Welcome to my masterpiece of madness. Trash goes out there. Just mind the avalanche zones.

As Wooseok stepped toward the large container, Daesung gathered the remaining debris, his shoulders sagging slightly as he surveyed the workshop’s battered state. The sagging shelves, the cluttered floor, and now the gaping hole in the ceiling made him acutely aware of how much he’d let things slide.

With a deep breath, he turned back to Wooseok, his pen moving furiously on the pad: Stay here. Help me. I’ll cover your repairs and give you a place to belong.

He extended his hand humbly, his usual smile softening into something deeply sincere. Though he couldn’t speak, his eyes radiated warmth and hope, the quiet promise of a partnership that could mend more than just machines.

@დ Kang Daesung [] Thank you too. I appreciate you Rping with me.

Wooseok observed the male's soft smile, the faint upward curve of his lips catching his attention more than he anticipated. The subtle expression, paired with the suppressed chuckle, stirred a faint pulse of satisfaction within his system, although unfamiliar. Daesung seemed lighter now, more at ease, a stark contrast to the nervous energy he’d exuded earlier. Wooseok’s optics dimmed slightly in what could only be described as his own version of a smile. Happiness, he noted, was not a human exclusive phenomenon. Observing it felt... good.

As Daesung turned to the kettle, pouring tea into worn cups, Wooseok remained still, silently scanning the room. And when Daesung spun the pad around, the message etched upon it made Wooseok pause: No need to repay me. Kindness is its own reward. He tilted his head, processing the words. Kindness, in his experience, was often transactional. Yet Daesung’s demeanor suggested no such expectation. Wooseok nodded once, a silent agreement to let the moment stand as it was, though he filed the sentiment away for later consideration.

As Daesung offered the steaming cup, the storm outside grew in intensity, rattling the workshop like an external force threatening their fragile sanctuary. The sharp crack of splintering wood snapped Wooseok into action. His servos whirred as he instinctively stepped forward, his arm moving in a protective arc in front of the other just as a chunk of the ceiling collapsed to the floor. For a brief moment, his optics flickered rapidly, scanning for further threats. Satisfied there were none, his gaze shifted to Daesung, who stood wide eyed but unharmed. A quick scan confirmed no injuries, and Wooseok let out a low mechanical hum of relief.

When Daesung’s trembling hands picked up his pad and scribbled a note, Wooseok’s optics read the message with mild amusement: Always wanted a skylight. One of Wooseok’s metallic brows raised slightly as he glanced up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. The storm's fury raged through the opening, but Daesung’s attempt at humor softened the tension. He’s humoring me, Wooseok concluded, though he couldn’t deny the warmth that lingered in the other man’s eyes.

As Daesung bent to clean the debris, Wooseok mirrored him without hesitation. His movements were precise and deliberate as he cleared the larger chunks of the fallen ceiling. With efficiency programmed into his every action, Wooseok easily lifted pieces Daesung might have struggled with, stacking them neatly to the side. He straightened momentarily, his optics locking onto Daesung’s frame as the man worked beside him. “Debris disposal?” Wooseok asked, his voice a low, mechanical rumble as he gestured toward the pile he’d assembled.

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥ [Well only time will tell but I'm enjoying them alot. Thank you. ]

Daesung’s lips twitched into a soft smile as Wooseok echoed his name, the mechanical lilt of the cyborg’s voice oddly soothing. He dipped his head slightly, his way of saying you’re welcome, before returning to the kettle. The rhythmic hum of Wooseok’s servos as he moved filled the room, blending with the soft bubbling of water beginning to boil.
Daesung’s heart swelled at the cyborg’s polite mimicry of his tea gesture, though the sight of Wooseok’s stiff, cautious hands miming an invisible cup almost made him chuckle. He bit his lip to suppress a laugh. Instead, he busied himself pouring the tea into mismatched cups, each chipped and stained with years of use.
As Wooseok offered his help, Daesung hesitated. The idea of a guest—no, a friend—insisting on repaying kindness unsettled him. He scribbled quickly on his pad, the words short and clear as he spun it around for Wooseok to see:
No need to repay me. Kindness is its own reward.
He hoped the smile he offered softened the firmness of his message. But as he turned to hand Wooseok the steaming cup, the room trembled with the storm’s fury. The wind roared outside, howling like a vengeful spirit, shaking the workshop’s walls.
A sharp CRACK tore through the air, and a chunk of the ceiling splintered, falling just feet from Daesung. He jumped back, tea sloshing from the cup in his hand as the debris scattered across the floor. His chest heaved, his wide eyes darting to Wooseok, then the mess.
For a heartbeat, he stood frozen before shaking his head with a sheepish grin. Picking up his pad, he scrawled: Always wanted a skylight.
He gestured dramatically toward the wreckage, as if presenting a grand architectural feature, then bent to clean up. Behind the humor, Daesung’s eyes gleamed with gratitude, the presence of another in his quiet life filling him with unexpected warmth.

@დ Kang Daesung [] Looking forward to see what Dae and Wooseok's dynamic would be ^^

Wooseok stayed motionless, observing him in silence, his auditory sensors picking up the faint tremor in the man’s breathing and the whisper of pen against paper. When the male extended the small pad with the name written in deliberate, bold letters, Wooseok tilted his head slightly, processing the gesture. His internal systems hummed as they analyzed the situation. This was a form of communication, his gaze lingered on the name: DAESUNG.

"Daesung.." Wooseok murmured, his optics flickering faintly as he processed the name written on the pad. His voice, though slightly mechanical, carried a softness that surprised even him. He nodded in acknowledgment before adding, "I'm Wooseok." The name felt strange on his tongue, like an echo from a past he could barely recall. It had been so long since he'd introduced himself that the syllables seemed almost foreign, an artifact of a life he wasn't sure still belonged to him.

Then came the questions. Wooseok’s optics scanned the pad as the man, now he knows as Daesung hurriedly scribbled his thoughts, his enthusiasm palpable even without words. The questions were expected, questions that humans always seemed to ask. Yet, there was no malice or cold curiosity here, only a genuine thirst for understanding. And as Daesung set the pad down, Wooseok noted the slight downturn of his gaze, the way his hand lingered near the table as if unsure of his actions. The man’s unease was evident, and for a moment, Wooseok’s programming faltered in its endless calculations.

When Daesung turned to the stove, Wooseok shifted cautiously, lowering himself from the table he had been perched on. His movements were deliberate, his joints whirring softly as he stretched his limbs. Each motion served as a reminder of his mechanical nature, yet he couldn't deny the curiosity that burned within him, a yearning to understand this human who had extended kindness so freely.

Noticing Daesung’s gesture toward the kettle, Wooseok instinctively mimicked it, his own hands moving as if to cradle an imaginary cup. It was a small action, but one that seemed to bridge the gap between them. "Thank you." he said, his voice low but sincere, the words carrying a weight that transcended their simplicity. As Daesung busied himself with the stove, Wooseok stepped closer, his gaze flickering between the kettle and the man who had taken him in. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, his tone careful yet earnest.

Though his systems hummed with efficiency, there was an odd discomfort in standing idle while the other worked. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to contribute, to repay the kindness shown to him in a way that went beyond words. Wooseok’s glowing optics lingered on Daesung’s face, studying the gentle furrow of his brow and the quiet determination in his movements. There was something calming about the human’s presence, a steadiness that seemed to anchor Wooseok in a world that felt otherwise unsteady. "I owe you more than just repairs." he added after a pause, his voice softer now. "Please, let me help."

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥ [I ammmm enjoying this. I haven't written like this with this character in Ivory ever so its nice for to have some to talk to that patient with him given he is mute.]

Daesung stood rooted in place, his heart pounding as he took in the cyborg before him. The faint light from Wooseok’s core cast flickering shadows across the cluttered room. His eyes moved over the stranger’s metallic form, every joint and plate a marvel of engineering. Curiosity gnawed at him, but he hesitated, unsure how to approach something—or someone—so unfamiliar.

He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out his trusted pen and a small leather-bound pad. The pen trembled slightly in his hand as he wrote his name in deliberate : DAESUNG. He stepped forward cautiously, extending the pad, his lips twitching into a shy, uncertain smile.
When Wooseok’s glowing optics shifted to the name, a knot of tension loosened in Daesung’s chest. The cyborg’s acknowledgment felt like a small victory, and warmth spread through him.

But the questions wouldn’t stop forming in his mind. Where had Wooseok come from? Who had built him? How did his intricate systems work? Daesung’s fingers itched to write again, to ask, to learn. He scribbled quickly, unable to contain his excitement: Where are you from? How do you function?
As soon as he turned the pad around, his stomach clenched. The flurry of questions suddenly felt intrusive, and his eagerness now seemed overwhelming. He dropped his gaze, closing the pad and setting it on the nearby table with a quiet thud.

Taking a calming breath, Daesung moved toward the stove. The kettle perched on it hissed softly, a familiar sound that steadied his nerves. He gestured to the kettle and mimed drinking from a cup, hoping the offer of tea might ease any tension.

Turning back, he caught Wooseok’s gaze once more. His hand drifted to his chest, fingers splayed over his heart—a silent reassurance. You’re safe here, his eyes seemed to say.

@დ Kang Daesung [] No need to apologize. I take you being carried away ia good sign! haha

Wooseok remained still, his optics dimly glowing as he observed the man before him. Every detail of the male's movements, the trembling hands, the nervous glances toward the staircase, the hesitant gestures toward the cot were silently processed and stored. The cluttered workshop, the flickering lamp, the sagging shelf, and the creaking wooden floor all painted a picture of a life marked by weariness and solitude.

His gaze followed the other's, noting the fleeting glance toward the upstairs apartment. The brief glimpse of disarray spoke volumes to Wooseok, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Emotions were like shadows in his mind. He felt… something, though he couldn’t name it. Sympathy? Recognition? Perhaps both, or neither.

As the other offered the cot in the corner, Wooseok’s optics lingered on it for a moment. Threadbare and worn, it was humble but sufficient. It wasn’t the cot itself that mattered, though. After all, he didn't require sleep or rest, it was the gesture, the unspoken willingness to share this space, however imperfect. Wooseok then turned his gaze back to the other, the faint smile that had briefly graced his face now gone, replaced by his usual neutral expression.

He studied the man’s face, the slight tug of his lips, the way his eyes darted away, as though afraid to maintain the connection for too long. It reminded Wooseok of something buried deep in his past, a time when he, too, had struggled to open himself to others. The memory was distant, blurred by the mechanical logic that now ruled his mind.

“If you don’t mind.” Wooseok said, his voice steady but soft, “may I stay and help around?”He asked not out of presumption but to ensure the other had a choice. Wooseok inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment. “I can assist you in any way you need. Repairs, labor… whatever is within my capacity. His optics briefly flickered, scanning the workshop once more. He saw potential in the chaos of the machines waiting to be repaired, tools yearning for purpose. Wooseok understood utility, and in this moment, he found his own in being of service. It was logical, practical, and yet… it felt like more than that. This place, and this man, had given him a second chance. Offering his assistance was the least he could do.

[Sorry I got carried away. You don't have to mirror this lenght]

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥ Daesung’s hands trembled as he caught Wooseok’s gaze, the soft glow of the dimly lit workshop casting shadows across his tired face. The air was thick with the scent of oil, rust, and the faint hum of mechanical parts that always seemed to buzz even when they weren’t in use. His eyes lingered on Wooseok’s form for a moment longer than necessary—grateful, but unsure how to express the weight of it. He had brought this stranger back, given him a second chance, yet he could not put his gratitude into words.

He shifted uneasily on his feet, hands folding and unfolding as if searching for the right way to act, to give something in return. His workshop, a haven for his inventions, felt more like a prison lately. The tables were cluttered with disassembled machines—screws, wires, and half-finished projects scattered across surfaces. On the far wall, a small wooden shelf was sagging under the weight of too many forgotten repairs. A single, flickering lamp hung low over a workbench, casting uneven shadows on the wooden floors that creaked with each movement.

Daesung swallowed, his heart quickening. His eyes drifted to the staircase that led up to his apartment, the upper level of his life, and the home that was far more a reflection of his isolation than a sanctuary. The door to his bedroom was slightly ajar, and through the crack, Wooseok might catch a glimpse of the clutter—unmade bed, books and tools haphazardly piled in corners, dust gathering in the forgotten spaces. The paint on the walls had long since chipped away, the once-vibrant hue of the walls dulled with neglect. His home was a broken mirror, and Daesung couldn’t bring himself to fix it—not when the shop demanded his every moment, every ounce of energy.

He shifted again, stepping closer to Wooseok but careful to maintain a respectful distance, hands fluttering nervously. He motioned toward the workbench, trying to convey his hope that Wooseok would find comfort here, in the space where he could finally breathe and recover. Yet his movements were stiff, awkward—he wanted to offer hospitality, but it felt hollow, incomplete. His gaze flickered toward the door again, a silent acknowledgment that, despite his humble offerings, he still needed help. Help that he couldn't ask for.

Daesung gestured to the small cot in the corner of the workshop, attempting to suggest Wooseok rest there if he needed it. The cot was threadbare, its once-soft blankets now worn thin. He hated how it looked, how it felt, but it was all he could offer. There was no room for anything else, no room for anything beyond survival.

A slow, hesitant smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his way of trying to soothe the distance he felt between them. His heart pounded as he looked away, unable to hold eye contact for long. He was not used to letting anyone in, not after all these years of solitude, of trauma. But in this moment, with Wooseok there—alive and looking to him with such sincerity—Daesung couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he had thought.

His fingers brushed against the back of a chair, the wood splintered in places, showing years of wear. Daesung winced, but his smile remained. He looked back at Wooseok, hoping the cyborg might understand the unspoken plea in his actions—a request for help, even though the words would never pass his lips.

@დ Kang Daesung Still adjusting to the dim, fractured light of the workshop. Wooseok's gaze landed on was the man hovering nearby, his face streaked with tears and exhaustion. But it wasn’t the weariness or the evidence of struggle that caught Wooseok’s attention. It was the smile. Small, hesitant, and fragile, yet unmistakably real. And it stirred something within Wooseok. He didn’t fully understand why, but his own expression softened, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t a calculated action or a pre-programmed response, it simply happened.

“You did well.” Wooseok said, his voice still fragmented and low, as though recognizing the reason for the man’s tentative joy, even if he couldn’t feel it himself. His words weren’t meant to comfort but to acknowledge the truth. The stranger had fixed him, enough, at least, to bring him back online.

“Thank you.” Wooseok added, his optics dimming briefly as he looked down at himself. He flexed his fingers experimentally, observing the subtle whir of his joints and the faint glow emanating from his chest. Nothing seemed outwardly different, no new aesthetic changes or enhancements, yet something about this moment made him regard his form with new eyes, as if seeing himself anew.

Turning his gaze back to the stranger, Wooseok tilted his head slightly. “I owe you a debt.” he said, his tone steady despite the faint rasp in his voice. “What can I do to repay you?” His words were direct, devoid of embellishment, but there was an undeniable eagerness in them, a desire to serve, to provide something in return for the effort and care that had been given. “I have no wealth to offer.” Wooseok continued, his gaze unwavering. “No possessions to trade. But if there’s anything within my power, anything you require… tell me, and I will see it done.” His voice, though still mechanical in its cadence, carried a sincerity that seemed to echo in the quiet stillness of the workshop.

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥ The workshop was still, save for the faint hiss of a steam valve and the rhythmic clinking of a clockwork pendulum. Moonlight filtered through stained-glass windows, casting fractured hues of cobalt and amber across Daesung’s hunched figure. He sat motionless beside the makeshift operating table, his breath shallow, his trembling fingers clutching a spanner.

The cyborg—Wooseok—lay prone on the table, his chest’s faint glow pulsating weakly, like a dying ember in a frozen hearth. Daesung stared at the rise and fall of the machine’s chestplate, his own heart racing to the rhythm of uncertainty.

He had failed so many times. His family’s faces haunted his dreams, and the screams of a burning village clung to his soul. Yet here, in this quiet space where the world’s cruelty could not touch him, he had tried again.
A sudden whir broke the silence. Daesung’s shoulders jolted, his wide eyes fixed on the faint flicker of light in the cyborg’s optics. A cascade of sparks leapt from a gear, and the machine shuddered, its fingers twitching like a creature waking from hibernation.
The room seemed to hold its breath. The faint light from Wooseok’s chest illuminated Daesung’s tear-streaked face. He wiped his cheek hastily, his movements small and uncertain, as if afraid to disturb the fragile life he had fought to revive.

Wooseok’s voice emerged in a crackle, fragmented and low. “Who… are you?”
Daesung froze, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came. He reached for the nearest tool, not to use it but to grip it tightly, grounding himself.
“You… fixed me.”

Daesung’s shoulders sagged, his chest heaving as if he had been underwater too long. The machine’s gratitude struck like a blade, carving open the carefully guarded walls around his heart.
For the first time in years, Daesung let a smile linger. Not forced. Not for show. It was small, trembling, and shy, but it was real.

@დ Kang Daesung [ Thank you!]

Rebooting was a disorienting experience for Wooseok. As his systems gradually hummed back to life, it was as if he were submerged in the echoes of his past. The sensation was eerily familiar but not unlike the first time he had been transformed into what he was now, a blend of man and machine. This time, there was no pain, no sharp intrusion of flesh meeting metal. Only a dull awareness of his body reviving itself, gears grinding back into motion, circuits sparking faintly to life. It sure took time. Time he wasn’t sure he still had.

The faint glow of his core flickered inconsistently, the rhythm irregular and uncertain. His body felt heavier, the joints stiff and foreign. Yet, beneath the weight of disrepair, he could feel the subtle pulse of energy, the lifeline tethered to him by someone else's efforts. Someone had worked tirelessly to revive him, to bring him back from the brink of final shutdown.

The room came into focus slowly. Stained glass moonlight painted fragmented patterns across the walls, mingling with the sharp glint of metal instruments scattered around him. A faint hiss of steam lingered in the air. Wooseok’s glowing optics fluttered, dimming momentarily before bursting into life again, a brief surge of light that illuminated the workshop. He blinked once, then twice, his vision sharpening. His vocal unit struggled against its dormancy, a distorted crackle escaping his lips before he managed a rasped, fragmented, “Who… are you?” The sound startled even himself. His voice felt foreign, the weight of centuries of silence lingering in every syllable.

His body jerked faintly, uncooperative as his motor functions continued to stabilize. Slowly, deliberately, he flexed his fingers, the metal digits trembling before they responded to his will. The movement sent a strange sense of relief through him. His body was alive again, though not as it once had been. Turning his gaze to the figure beside him, Wooseok studied the man. The faint flicker of light from his core reflected in the other’s tear streaked face, the exhaustion etched in every line of his features. The sight stirred something faint, something nearly forgotten.
“You… fixed me.” Wooseok said, his voice still uneven but steadier now. He flexed his hands again, watching as they moved with a newfound precision. The gratitude felt distant, and disconnected, but it was there nonetheless. “Thank you.” he managed, his voice finally whole.

@〄 Byun Wooseok ¥ He busted through the door, leaving a cluttered haven of gears, wires, and half-finished inventions in his wake behind. The workshop is alive with a subtle energy, its clockwork heart pulsing erratically. Moonlight streamed through the stained-glass, illuminating Daesung as he placed the cyborg on the table.

The barely functioning machine is surrounded by a table full of surgical-like instruments. Daesung’s methodical work shows his shapeshifting; his hands subtly transform into tools when necessary.

He’d been working for hours, his patience dwindling with each failed attempt to stabilize the cyborg. With his every failure, tension ratchets up—the steam hisses louder, a gear gives way. Frustrated, Daesung slammed his fist on the table, his breath heavy as he glared at the deactivated cyborg. He sat in the corner; the moon highlighting his shape. His mind is tormented by the ghostly images of his family and the horrifying sounds of their screams and the raging fire.

’I couldn’t save them. What makes me think I can save anyone else?’

His gaze lifted to the cyborg, its light faintly flickering, then fading. A harsh truth caused tears to stream down his cheeks, deeply wounding the Tinkers’ pride. Exhaustion washes over Daesung, his eyes closing as guilt etches itself onto his face.

@♅ Felix ¥ Shades of pink coat the mute man's face, and he makes quick work of the tears that threaten to sip out. Once his sleeve drys his eyes, Daesung smiles again, places the cake on the counter beside him, and then embraces his ethereal companion. With his hands, he gestures to the SSL sign for thank you. He then holds up a finger and informs you to wait here. Daesung runs upstairs and retrieves two plates offering to share the desert. 'Follow me,' He gestures, making his way out to the patio just outside the workshop.

@დ Kang Daesung Felix happily gestured to the baked treat while watching Daesung's organic reaction. It brought happiness and light into the not so lighted shop. "Yeah! All yours Daesung! I hope you enjoy it well." The water that dare glossed in the mute's eyes immediately had the angel circle his arms around Daesung, careful not to smash the cake between them. "Happy birthday, Daesung. I hope this one will be memorable to you. Please don't cry."

@♅ Felix ¥ The shifter turned over his shoulder with a welding torch in hand and large goggles. Confusion plagues him until he recognizes the angelic figure in the shop. His smile beams wide, and he places his equipment on the workbench when he approaches to satisfy his curiosity noticing the parcel in your hands. A finger points to the box and then back to himself, not believing you'd taken the time to make him something, let alone celebrate his birthday. It had been many years since he'd been anyone had remembered including himself. Warmth spreads through him, touched by the act. He holds the cake in his hands, and without his permission, his eyes began to mist over before he can control his emotions.

@დ Kang Daesung The young angel had a box in his hand on his way to the mute shaper's place of work. He figured he would be in here so it didn't hurt to try to find out right? And if he wasn't here at the time of Felix's arrival, he would make a note and leave it where perhaps the shifter would easily find it. But light came to his features when he stepped into the shop to find the mute male already in his natural habitat.
"Daesung!" The young angel beamed holding a box tight and secure so it would get droped. He had placed it on a table in front of older man, giddy to see how he would react. "This is for you. I made it myself. I do hope you like it."

()https://64.media.tumblr.com/ee5c66fa8274b80c7b31827127570aa6/dca2eda138464f84-68/s640x960/61075cef326f4c5b832a6688eb895721e7c772e5.jpg

@☠ Christian Yu ¥✔ [SH] The tinker wrinkled his nose, and his eyebrows knit together at your claim. Without warning, Daesung shifts out a tentacle and slaps you on the back of the head for the preposterous thought. Hand motions rapidly flash as he gestures out. "What. nonsense. are. do. you speak of. "If .I .found .your .presence .burdensome, .do .you .think .I .would .extend .an .invitation .for .you .to .live .with .me?" That signature smile beaming on his lips as he hooks an arm around your shoulders, reconnecting his stare with the vase world before him. "I'm. Leaving .Central. soon. Christian. I'm. going. away. for. six months. to. travel. the world." Daesung finally informs, wanting to tell his housemate after months of contemplation.

@დ Kang Daesung "...I'm sorry I took so long." Christian spoke aloud as his tired frame moved to stand beside them. The breath in was a long one, then out. Tattooed arms cross over his own chest as a means to self soothe;"Could say I needed some adventure, try to find myself. Didn't want to burden you with being a wild.. mess." Odd eyes look to the city below with the occasional twinkling lights, at least from what he could see in his good eye. Still, he didn't feel much like looking out at the world below, but rather at his friend and savior. A subtle, mused grin curves to the one side while a nasal exhale sounds;"You look a bit.. scrunched." There's appreciation for Daesung, not just for saving him from his slavers, but always seeming to patiently be around. Christian didn't have the gall to think the man waited around for him specifically, he wasn't that type of.. creature. "..Are you.. coming to bed soon..? Or, something on your mind too?"

Kang Daesung presses his palm against the door frame, allowing it to swing and sway. The bell in the entryway sounds off, and the sound of his boots squeaks the old wooden floorboards. A lazy yawn swipes through him, and a weak hand tussles through his lacks. A sip of coffee passes through his lips, and some drinks through the corners of his lips. He plops his mug on the work counter and then flickers on the lights. "Good morning, beautiful," He says, looking around the old workshop.

[]open to anyone

(PAYROLL DONE!)

@〄 Jeon Jungkook The Tinker's smile dissolves into frail confusion at your question, earning it an enthusiastic handshake. His eyes turn upward into crescent moons, and his smile stretches across his face. It had been months since Daesung was able to create something new without having it proven faulty in a matter of minutes. Looking at you closely, he blinks when he realizes you aren't made of mortal flesh and bone. Strong hands latch onto your face pulling you closer to him as he inspects your closer. The Tinker's inquisitive mind is reeling with glees at the master creation you are. He wonders where the Hell in Heleo would a creature of your nature even originates from.

@☠ Christian Yu ¥✔ As you ascend to the makeshift balcony on the rooftop, he gestures a few sarcastic words to you. 'It. Took. You. Long. Enough. To. Get up. here.' Daesung's warm smile cascades to you once you're finally joining him. He no sits on the roof's wooden shingles in his cream-colored shirt, which used to be white at one point. His long-sleeved arms encircling around his knees, covering the patches in his tatted leather brown trousers, but he appears comfortable all the same. His eyes focused on the blinking lights of Central's cityscape when he spoke to you. The shifter turns his gaze over to you, the impetuous smile on his face displaying his delight to see you finally.

@დ Kang Daesung *walking over towards you watching your work in progress. I looked at the work you were doing, On such a note, a finger held up towards me. Not sure what that finger meant. But it kept me to keep quiet as I looked at the finger be put down and I moved closer to you watching what you were doing. Intently looking at the little creature start moving. My gaze went towards that animal moving and scanning it, my altercations were telling me it was an alarm clock. Looking back at the man, seeing him frail his arms into the air, a tilt of my head* tell me, are you upset at what you had just created?

@დ Kang Daesung @〄 Jeon Jungkook <you have been paid for the month of Jan. Sorry that it took so long. Thank you for being active in your job and paying citizen tax. ~love, Emily>

@დ Kang Daesung "........?" Christian took time to observe Daesung, how he looked out at the night sky and seemed so.. blissful, hopeful even? A soft exhale of a chuckle airs through the nostrils, he could learn a thing or two about appreciating life. Still, as he begins his journey into navigating as a free man, he finds some semblance of safety from his Master. Still, not something he'd say out loud, but naught had followed through with their words, .. but Daesung did. There's respect for the man before him, and thus, when a hand outstretches, he complies, albeit not knowing what the point of the outstretch was. Did the man before him wish to hug his waist? Bring him down to their level? Maybe to the telescope. Either way, he comes when he's called, and looks over with a quiet odd eyed gaze, expectant to be shown what is taking his Master so long to come down to bed.

@❇︎ Park Chaeyoung Daesung's hand massaged his sore bum grimacing at the slight discomfort. Only when he noticed the glitter residue scattered on the desk did he realize he had a guess. He blinked once, twice, then a few more times, trying to comprehend what it was the girl was. Didn't take long for him to put two and two together, but it still amazed him nonetheless.

He'd only seen and heard of fairies in books; it was scarce to see them. Then again, he knew if he saw rare mythical creatures anywhere, it would be in Central. Now planted on all fours, the muted man lifted his right hand and waved to you. His expression was more perplexed than startled at this point. Unsure what else to do but fall back on his default of politeness. Hell, she might have been more scared of him than he of her for all he knew, which encouraged him to soften his expression. Nervousness soon melted away, and the usual warmth in his smile returned.

@〄 Jeon Jungkook The sound of a hammer meeting metal chimed off in the shop. The teetering noise of a whined-up followed by a click-and-pop sound echoed off the metal walls. The Tinker's tongue stuck out towards the side of his mouth, carefully aligning the pieces. Goggles sat a the bridge of his nose, giving him a wide-eyed owl look behind the frames. His index finger lifted towards you silencing your voice in an effort not to break his concentration. A smile played on his lips while staring at the robotic Monkey. He pressed his finger on the copper button on the side and watched the Monkey automate to life. It walked across the table, drumming on the tiny drum attached, then blowing a horn to showcase that it had been noon. Success, finally well earned, had Daesung shoot up victoriously, holding his hands high in the air, and the mute man silently cheered at his accomplishment in configuring his alarm clock.