✗ cemetary

https://i.imgur.com/dXwi7np.jpg

@dew jirawat sutivanisak. Jongin recovered quickly from whatever hurt he'd felt like a moment before. He was like a squishy or a bouncy ball, held down only minutes or seconds at a time before he felt ready to bounce back again into whatever antics his mind came out of. His mom called it his superpower, his resilience to hurt, to cutting words, and lord knew he needed the power when his personality could bring out the worst in others-- exasperation, anger, frustration, the whole spectrum really. His eyes took in Dew from the bottom of his feet all the way to the top of his head, clicking his tongue as if he'd come up with the most stunning revelation, "Your mom must be blind. You don't even look like a leech--" The gaze he'd given Dew felt returned, and quickly, the author leaned against the headstone. He adjusted in the most "natural" position he could, a hand ready to tussle his hair, a smirk poised perfectly on his lips, "Well? What do you think? It's a shame I write so well, isn't it? The world is missing out on these good looks--" Of course, however, his little display was met with biting denial and he scoffed, lips pursed into a deflated pout, "Well-- You'll have to take that up with my fansite then. They happen to think my face and clothes are famous enough to make cute edits." The author scoffed a second timr and showed off his phone to the younger man, a picture of himself as his lockscreen, edited into kitten ears and nose with the words, 'Jongin Oppa ♡,' right below. The author tucked it away in his pocket afterwards and then scrutinized Dew's face, leaning in until he had the perfect view of his skin, regret on his features, as he spoke through a murmur, "Acne is probably the last thing you have to worry about with that skin-- I'd go see a dermatologist for uh... that." He lifted his hand to generally gesture to the man's features, looking away as if he couldn't bear the sight anymore.

The artwork spoke to him the more he looked at the heavy lines of permanent marker. His finger came up to trace the well drawn across the headstone and then the words that followed next. He smirked and glanced down, patting his crotch affectionately in the process, "Proud. Your artwork makes me feel proud." So much had he lulled himself into his pride that the moment the shrill screech filled the air, he felt exactly like those crows. He stood up, hand on the tombstone for support and grabbed at his chest with a heavy breath, "Me? I'm not the one yelling bloody murder-- Maybe I did accidentally summon you or something. I was trying to read this macaron recipe in French the other day-- Who's to say I didn't accidentally summon you from the depths of hell-- Besides, I thought I didn't have to offer anything. Since you and I are-- you know." He made a wiggle with his eyebrows and a motion with his tongue, a pathetic look when he was still recovering from the surprised fear.

Through the breaths the author finally managed to catch up to his face turned into a quiet sulk, "I mean I've never tested it, but if I had a motive-- I can do anything I put my mind to. That one comes from my mom too." He scoffed and then slowly realized Dew was speaking with too much conviction, a hunch in his brain, "Sounds like you know a lot about it-- Have you ever killed someone, baby? You have that beautiful face of yours-- I'd let you murder me with those looks." Had that started as a serious sentence, possibly an accusation, and then ended with hitting on Dew? Maybe. But he had a short time span, alright? And besides-- Right. Information. He needed information. His gaze threw onto the dead man in question, nodding in agreement while he patted the cold stone, "What secrets do you hold, old man? Maybe you should have stuck to drinking instead of chewing-- Then you wouldn't have choked or something." The author rolled his eyes, even the compliment too little when it came to money, a sore subject. He cleared his throat and pulled his wallet from his pocket. With suspicion, he turned his body away from Dew and counted out the bills he had, a soft curse when he remembered he was broke-- He'd been scammed by a so called best friend in a casino business venture-- turns out gambling is illegal in South Korea. Who knew? He cleared his throat and then put up a façade as he turned back, arrogant and insufferable, "Enough. I can offer you enough, baby boy. You'll have alllllllllllll the pizza gift cards you could ever want-- I know a guy. So what do you say? Do we have a deal for whatever information you have going? I'll even throw in a Starbucks gift card if you agree right now--" He smirked and threw his hand forward, confident he'd made enough of a showing to trick Dew into agreeing.

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@kim jongin. There was no doubt in his mind that his words delivered a couple of blows to the authors ego, the hurt evident in his fleeting expressions. Upon working and living in the the Boddy estate, Dew learned to control his expressions, his words, his secrets… So when he had a chance to relieve himself of the role he’d been made to play his whole life, he took it. No filter. No remorse. Though the journalist’s reaction and responses did amuse him to an extent. “How cute… My mom taught be how to leech off the rich for their money. We’re both making our mothers proud.” He eyed the other’s outfit up and down. “Obviously.” He snorted when the pen dropped onto the rubble beneath them, shaking his head. “Famous? I wouldn’t know, I don’t read for fun just like half of the population on earth. Your name is famous not your face, princess, and definitely not your outfit. And no. I hear the air quality in jail gives you pimples. No way, Jose.”

Bored eyes flickered back down to the stone as the other male lowered himself to look at his artwork, his still resting against the tomb. Though amused, he ignored the vulgar comment and rolled his eyes. “You tell me how it makes you feel. I’m not giving all my secrets away for free or anything for that matter. What do I get out of this?” His eyes closed when the conversation returned back to the demons. “The only demon you’re meeting tonight is me if you don’t SHUT U-“ the sound of crows cawing and flying over their heads caught him off guard, making him jump off of the tombstone. “Up. You see what you did?”

He crossed his arms and looked around cautiously, brows furrowing. If he learned anything about living in the manor, it’s that even the walls have ears. “CAN you? Even the cutest of the cute and innocent of the innocents can commit the most heinous crimes if you play your cards right. Any animal backed up into a corner will bite. That’s probably what happened with Sir Hugh two inches here. Maybe bit off more he could chew and cornered the wrong .” The maid swatted the foot away, his lips pursing in feign disgust. “Who’s your baby. If you want something, you’re going to have to pay me.” He made a money sign with his fingers. “Though, you aren’t too bad to look at… how much can you afford? And don’t low ball me. Secrets can kill, you know? Just like money can.”

@dew jirawat sutivanisak. That voice-- That voice wasn't the gravelly voice of a demon. The annoyance and the hardly gently smacks he received afterwards could be that of a demons, but the voice convinced him he'd found his companion for the night. Jongin slowly opened his eyes through the smacks and shouting delivered in his direction. He tried to fix his expression, the pretense that he wasn't hurt by Dew's words as he mumbled, "Well-- I'll have you know that my mom says someone will be very lucky to have me--" He tried to compose himself again, dusting himself as if nothing had happened. He hadn't been afraid. He'd been cautious. Careful. No one knew when there was a demon ready to pounce from around the corner. The man cleared his throat and reached through the screaming to, at the very least, help Dew up, "I thought this was a secret meeting-- I'm undercover-- I'm kind of famous, you know. But back to the main point. You think I look like a model? I always knew you thought I was hot--" His hand met the marker rather than Dew's hand, confused until his eyes landed on the tomb behind the younger man. He froze, eyes now a flicker between the perpetrator, the marker, and the stone, quickly letting it go, "You-- If I go to jail for this you have to come visit me-- Have conjugal visits--" He stepped up to the stone and squatted down to take I the artwork, a dumb smirk on his features as if he'd won, "Ha. 2 inches. Take that Sir Black. Half an inch really makes a difference but you'll never know. But I never knew you were this kind of artist, Dew drop. Very... experimental. What does it all mean-- What... is the story here, hm? What is it giving me? What is it supposed to make me... *feel*?"

The cross fell away from his fingers as he looked up to the now standing man and he clicked his tongue, fear long forgotten, "Fine but when a demon sneaks up behind you don't ask me to save you with my cross. It's like you think I couldn't commit murder or something--" He stood back up and shrugged, sitting up on the headstone and patting it gently, "Cheer up, Hugh." He looked back to Dew and chuckled, very brief, but clearly agreeing with the sentiment, "He'd make me very happy if he just kicked the bucket-- er has been such a goddamn nuisance. It's all those secrets, I bet. Someone clean wouldn't have so much they want to hide-- Especially when this whole biography thing is meant to be like a kind if tribute." His mind whirled and then tugged up to one corner, the smirk that filled with devious energy while his foot stretched out to nudge the younger man's leg, "Which-- You must know a lot, don't you? What with growing up there and your mom working there-- Come on-- Give me something-- Just a little bit? I'll give you a nice treat tonight if you do, baby--"

@kim jongin. Jirawat grunted as something hard slammed into him, but before he could catch himself from tumbling into the tombstone, a pair of frantic hands shoved him. With nothing but darkness to grab onto, he fell onto the tombstone with a thud. “Ow! Would you calm down! It’s ME.” He groaned, rubbing his . “A nerd AND a afraid of ghost??? You’re the whole package, aren’t you?” The maid rose to his feet, eyes flickering over the author’s expressive outfit. “What the are you wearing? Are you tying out for Louis Vuitton? Gucci? At a cemetery???” His brow rose, taking the male’s hand and rubbing the author’s finger prints all over the permanent marker he was holding. “Perfect accomplice, just in case. Anime and god has left the building right when you put that outfit together. Get that cross outta my face!”

He smacked Jongin’s makeshift cross, hardly gentle as he plopped onto Hugh’s resting place. “You would think that by how jumpy you are, we were planning to commit murder.” He scoffed, brushing the dirt off his thighs. “Though, if he were to die, a lot of people would be verrry happy. More money to them. Secrets. I wonder if the allowances will stop once Boddy realizes how dumb all this is. Who in their right mind puts complete strangers in their will. If I were Boddy, I’d watch his back.” The maid lifted his Versace sunglasses up past his forehead, a gift from Boddy’s lover.

@dew jirawat sutivanisak. id Kai nearly chuck his phone out of his hand when the device lit up and vibrated into the twilight air? No. Absolutely not. He had a grip on himself. Just like how ghosts weren't real. He cleared his throat and glanced around again to check if anyone had seen his little... hiccup. He was fine. Even if someone had seen him how would they ever know who he was in his disguise? Or that he was there to begin with. The instructions clear after a quick read and Kai's gead lifted to the darkness around him. It was an inky black canvas waiting to be painted with his movement-- Except, he was an unwilling artist.

[ TXT: dew drop]

> Coming

The writer swallowed a lump in his throat and started to shuffle, not walk in the direction of the instructions given. He hoped he was making good progress but it was hard to tell through closed eyes. He focused on his breath, on calming his nerves and just when he'd gained more self control he bumped against something. The something was much too warm, much too fleshy to be a tree or a tombstone and it's heat, once realized, made Jongin's eyes fly open, a scream at his throat, pushing away whatever had just brushed against him, a clumsy cross made out of fingers and a subpar fighting stance taken in the process, "Don't with me, Demon! I have the power of God and anime on my side!"

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@kim jongin. standing over a defaced grave with a permanent marker in his hand wasn't the way he envisioned his life at twenty-two to be. still, he smirked down at sir hugh black's gravestone before planting a muddied shoe onto it. "may you rest in pieces, sir black." if only boddy would go the same way. having him back in the manor was like walking on eggshells. a notification rung through the empty air, seemingly bouncing off the leaves and disappearing into thin air, breaking him from his thoughts. he scoffed. how the manor's maid came to be so close to boddy's own personal paparazzi, he didn't know. but what he did know was that jongin was going to make bank out of the man's juicy secrets and he wanted a cut.

[ txt: nerd ]
- just walk all the way straight from the entrance and turn left
- then right then left and right and right
- stop being a en and hurry up
- I still need to get back to work

https://i.imgur.com/LULpDkL.jpg

@dew jirawat sutivanisak. Jongin felt his heart race. Was this him? Was this really him? He'd spent so long building his reputation as a reputable author, finding his sources, trying his best to gain connections, and now here he was, ready to crumble his empire all under his anger and frustration. The plan would be quick, easy, and then he'd have access to all he needed, his next big project, his next monumental exposé. Thankfully, he didn't have to do any of this... deed alone. His eyes traveled amongst the graves through his tinted lenses, head scarf covering his peripheral vision. He heaved a sigh. Of course he was late. When was the younger man ever the vision of propriety? The author pulled out his phone and quickly began to text.

[ TXT: Dew Drop ]

> Where are you?
> Hurry up. It'll get dark.
> I'm scared. I'm out here alone

https://i.imgur.com/7Fa74wx.jpg

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