↳ shopping district。

@▸ choi jisu。 Yein isn’t foreign to seeing many faces when scavenging for items. But it’s when she’s seen a particular face one too many times that she becomes wary. It’s not as if she hasn’t seen the same people within multiple locations. After all, the population has dwindled down to such a minor quantity. But to have seen the same person over and over in locations quite opposite of each other irks the girl. It’s as if she’s being followed, being tracked, her every move monitored. Just what the hell does the world want with her?

“Hey, you there.” She’s halted on her heels, staring at the one she’d like to deem a stranger. But everything about the latter is too familiar. Her silken tresses of obsidian, her riveting facial features now engrained into Yein’s mind. There’s no doubt she has seen the other woman multiple times now, like a shadow following her with each step she takes. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. What’s your deal? You’ve been following me everywhere, haven’t you? It’s pretty obvious.”

With a roll of her eyes and an adept motion does the damsel have a knife at the shorter’s neck. In await of a response does she only sigh. “I hate having people on my tail so you might as well say your prayers now before I kill you.”

( open; random starter )


Sometimes he just likes to close his eyes and remember.

There's an unescapably nostalgic warmth about closing your eyes and just letting your nose guide your soul. The scent of people and places linger beyond death and sometimes even outlast the illusion of time. Once you've settled into the current of warm memories that ripple over you like a flowing hot-spring -eyes closed and mind relaxed- your ears begin to take the lead. The journey through past experiences is simply a conglomeration of familiar scents and memorable sounds before anything else. Of course you recall sensations- like the chilly air of a winter morning; you taste that cotton candy from the fair like you still held it on your tongue. You even begin to visualize the faces and places. The shopping malls, the strip at night, the cozy little stores and everything in between all have distinct sights that made them unforgettable.

For Taekwoon it was the food court inside the shopping mall when dozens of happy people sat down with their families and enjoyed overpriced fast food together. He could just hear the laughter; he could see the smiling faces; he could feel the arms of his mother around his shoulders; he could taste the french fries and smell the-
well...
it was all different when he opened his eyes.
The lights had long since burned out, leaving the entire building cast in gloomy, ominous shadows. There was no semblance of happiness here: only broken dreams. There were no friendly arms around him, protecting him from the harsh reality of life. There was no laughter anymore-- not even from stray animals. The restaurants had been abandoned long ago. It was just fact that the smells and tastes were far more... macabre than they were before. Human flesh that was at all stages of decomposition replaced the scent of fast food... though Taekwoon had to admit his mouth was still watering. He could already taste them. It wasn't as savory as a nice, juicy burger... human flesh was sour. vile. tough. Even fresh it lacked something at all to be desired... except for the fact that he needed it.

That is why he found himself meandering through the abandoned shopping centers. He sought out the freshest corpse- the one that would make him the least ill. Not physically ill, of course... but mentally. emotionally. spiritually. There was so much wrong with eating another human being... but, it couldn't be helped. If he wanted to survive long enough to create a cure, he had to keep his strength up.

It seemed to take hours before he satisfied his hunger. The sun had begun to set and he didn't dare wander out on the streets at night. There were infected out there who were simply monstrous and he didn't stand a chance. So, he found the nearest clothing store with an open 'employees only' door. Typically there was a lounge in the back and that was a good place to stake out for the night.

Having tucked himself into the employee's lounge of 'Footlocker,' he was able to find sleep easily. He was exhausted and secure enough that he didn't even consider the danger he was in until he awoke after dawn. At that point, all that was left to do was go on about his day.

@▹ lee jihoon。 [ tw: !!! cannibalistic thoughts, kinda graphic descriptions !!! ]

yiren thinks she could have chosen a better place to get lost in.

granted, anywhere she would have gone, there would be bodies nonetheless. but the stench that reaches her nose is far too strong for her liking, almost enough to make her feel overwhelmed — not only with disgust but also with the desire to just /eat/. her morals are battling with her desire, logic trying to prevail as though they are three horses stubborn to bring yiren to the direction they want to pull her into. it reminds her of the chariot she's heard in one of her studies in the past — a vague, almost absentminded remembrance as her sanity tries so desperately to hold onto something that would ground her back down. the bodies that litter the streets are decaying with an extremely foul stench, and yet all she can think is about how much of a waste all these corpses are because she thinks she can feed herself for /months/—

—and that is what terrifies her. she hates the way her instincts are starting to change her mind, shake her very core, and there is nothing she can do to stop it than to attempt at controlling it and hope for the best.

she almost doesn't hear jihoon the first time; almost doesn't notice he's there at all. the scent of someone alive is drowned under by the scent of death (and food, her brain so uselessly supplies), and she has to strain her ears to be certain if someone has /indeed/ called her name, because sometimes, when left alone for too long trying to find a signal for her radio, she feels as though she's hallucinating. a part of her once thought that the voices in the radio were delusions her brain conjured up, which isn't a far-stretched thought — she knows herself well enough to accept that she isn't keeping track of her symptoms as much as she should.

so when she turns around and sees jihoon, she has to blink. once. twice. thrice. she blinks to be sure that he suddenly won't disappear from her sight (because what happens if his image is nothing but a picture conjured by her mind? what then?), and when she finally realizes he's real, she can't stop herself as she runs toward the man, dragging her weapon behind her. her arms are /aching/ so bad and she's tired, but she manages to run regardless, almost tripping once but when she reaches him, she throws an arm around his torso, breathing loudly in relief. "thank god," she utters in chinese, forgetting briefly that jihoon can't understand. "thank god you're real."

@▸ wang yiren。 [ !!! trigger warning: dead bodies !!! ]

— november 1st, 2120 ┆ myeongdong, seoul

myeongdong is one area in the capital city jihoon had promised himself not to touch — no matter how tempting it may be. the absence of authority makes it a good place to scavenge for decent food and necessities, and perhaps bathe in luxury now that money is as good as nothing, but he knows that he isn't alone in that thought. myeongdong has turned into a feeding ground for the infected, preying on poor, unfortunate souls that had wound up in the once bustling part of seoul.

but when he hears that an old friend (somehow that sounds like an understatement, but jihoon can't exactly put a name to their relationship either) of his is stuck in that place, he places his fear and paranoia to the back of his mind and turns his scooter around, heading towards the city center. he ignores the seemingly infected humans trying to chase after him with ravenous eyes, quickly giving up when he speeds away from them. his eyes start to make out silhouettes of people roaming around the street — more than he has ever encountered in the outskirts. jihoon mutters two silent prayers: one for his own safety and another one for yiren's. it'll be a miracle if they can make it out alive.

jihoon is more than familiar with the streets of myeongdong, but with the abundance of grotesquely deformed bodies littered around like street trash, he finds it difficult to navigate through the area. the foul stench of decay assaults his nose as he drives around them. he tightens his grip on the motorcycle's throttle and holds his breath for as long as he can. /don't look/, he tells himself. /focus on finding yiren and get out as soon as you can/.

he breathes a sigh of relief when she finally enters his sight, but now isn't the time to celebrate. he puts an arm up and waves it to grab her attention. "yiren!" he calls, sparing one final check at their surroundings for anyone lurking behind the buildings around them. "come on, we don't have much time!"