( It's not the first time he's held a blade that felt so wrong. As his fingers squeeze in their grip, he can feel the tremoring need for violence seeping into his pores slow and thick, like blood at his pantlegs. His chest aches in the familiarity of this hunger, a throb of resistance that sends panicked strums like a worried heartbeat over the distance of his tethers. I can't, he thinks, and the blade lifts in his own hand so that he can view it clearer, the glint of its pale blade falsely pure in appearance compared to the enchanted and cursed gear he's held in the past. Tension strains at every part of his body, willing himself to lower it, to drop it, to walk away from these urgent thumps of hunger.
A voice cuts through, offering clues and direction, but it hardly matters when Guren realizes he can't stop himself from moving his arm. As the connection tightens painfully, Mahiru's voice sounds through like a bell in the darkness, too tempting: Leave it to me, Guren.
No, he thinks, but his lips won't move. Nothing will. And for him, in a rising sea of panic and anxious fear, his world goes black.
Across the tether, that consistent and quickened pace of frightened thumps comes to a startling halt. For a long moment, it might even seem like Guren's been caught and killed in record time— but then something stretches thin and bright like determination, muffled by the overwhelming noise of forced static. A practiced wall, an invader in a tether that still binds the both of them.
Mahiru is quiet as she moves, but she doesn't try to hide. She doesn't try to make this fun, either. There's none of her usual fanfare, no skipping, no smile— in Guren's body, she walks serious, sword held calmly, and listens. More than that, she feels. This tether pulls tighter, and she aims herself that way, as it's the only direction she has. )
[ it's a strange thing, to feel a tether cut off like that. not a painful snap, like he had undoubtedly left behind in his wake, but a sudden silence—eerie and uncomfortable. when it picks back up, that former fear would almost have been more welcome than what greets him now—thin cracks of light seeping through something that wishes to obscure them, and then it fades into static. like a tv with no cable, there's only sound and light.
it's probably just as well that this strange shift discourages him from hiding. after all, on guren's side, the feeling that this tether gives is subtly different from the others. the intensity increases as the stranger in his body approaches and cools if they distance themselves from him. the game of hot and cold acts as a beacon that calls out his location, which shouldn't be hard to stumble upon by following its lead.
for choi's part, empty-handed, he still chooses to wait rather than running. he's confident in hand-to-hand and even his improvisation skills if it comes to that, and the room he's chosen is a good one, he thinks—multiple exits if he does have to make his escape. two of them on the side of the room where he's currently ducked behind a stack of crates, and two of them on the opposite wall. he's silent as he waits for the sound of footsteps to approach. ]
this is so short but I feel like I can't do too much at once or it'll be crazy
( As Mahiru's voice travels through Guren's body, the word choice and attitude is all wrong. She's smiling, lifting her sword in front of herself as if to hold it up to the light and admire it. Here, her approaching footsteps finally stop, but it's ominous why that might be the case. )
You're going to hurt my feelings like that, Agent Choi.
fear not, we don't worry about tag length in this house
[ jeez, what's with that awareness? even through the tether it can be felt—the faintest bit of frustration, lacking awareness of the bad luck that's been bestowed upon him in the form of that earlier tadpole.
nevertheless, it's hard to help it now. he's not sure if it's something he should be helping either. when weighing his own life against another's, it isn't that he considers his own to be worthless, but there's certainly some math being done on agent choi's side as he lingers in his hiding spot for just a moment longer. in the end, it comes down to one thing: 'never retreat'. that's one of the rules of the hwarang he's dressed up as, after all, isn't it? so: ]
Seems like you know me, but I don't know you.
[ in the end, he steps out with a smile on his face, strained and sharp around the edges. it doesn't reach his eyes, where his gaze rests heavy on this guren who isn't guren at all. ]
What do you say? If you're going to hijack a civilian's body, the least you can do is properly introduce yourself.
( The laugh is too light, and as Mahiru lifts her head— Guren's body, Guren's head— the marks along Guren's body creep into view. Dark, spreading across his face and darkening even his sclera. The grin spreading across Guren's face most certainly belongs to someone else. )
I've never been a civilian. ( It sounds like she expects Choi to believe she's still Guren. Or maybe she just wants to plant the doubt there, that sparkle in her eyes clear as she observes him. ) Does my charming smile look different to you, in this lighting?
his expression doesn't change even as the marks creep into view, even if his chest tightens at the sight. you see a lot of things in this line of work, and something like this isn't enough to make him falter. besides, whoever happens to be here right now seems sociable enough, if not exactly friendly. with an open-armed gesture, he'll try to make do with what he has: his words and his own, ever so charming smile. ]
Come on, I'm looking for a way for us to get along. If you won't tell me your name, why don't you tell me what you want—why you're here? Maybe we can work something out.
( Not buying it. And that's fine, it seems, as Mahiru's smile thins into something as sharp as the blade she's carrying. She could say more, she could taunt, she could question... but there's no need, is there? And right now, she doesn't need to lead Choi along into thinking any specific way, so it's better to leave things vague, in her eyes.
Right now, she needs to win this game, and get as far along as she can to find out what's going on here. )
I don't think so~.
( And so, while Choi extends his arms and makes a grand show of being the exact sort of person Guren would get sucked in by, swayed by, held back by, she won't do the same. She moves, and it's quick, and it's threatening, and as she lunges to close the distance with speed that's not quite human, she moves to try and plunge the sword right through his chest. Heart, is where she's aiming, but as she doesn't know this guy's strength and doesn't know this landscape, she'll work with whatever she can get. )
[ it's not that he isn't expecting it, but maybe he expected it to play out a little differently—for his opponent limited by the confines of guren's unfamiliar body, but they strike with all the speed and poise of a snake. all the readiness in the world won't get him out of this one unscathed, and it's the best he can do to avoid the intended target.
it's his upper arm that takes the brunt of the sword, slicing through muscle and fat alike as blood begins to pour out of the wound. the pain that follows sears down to the bone, and his laughter comes out in a sharp breath, audibly strained. ]
Haha, too bad...
[ but the real problem is in the absence of his weapon—that wannabe god didn't even let him keep so much as a glass handgun! ugh, it doesn't leave him with many options, and even less if he wants to avoid harming guren's body. what he's left with is... yeah, just that. with a broad grin stretched across his face: ]
See you later then!
[ choi will be sure to use those exits he'd prepared well!
it's a sprint to reach the nearest one, and if he can knock over any particularly precarious boxes on his way there, even better. with the key dangling around his neck, there's no way he'll be allowed an escape, but that doesn't change the fact that the correct choice in the face of many supernatural phenomena... is to run!!! ]
( Horribly, terribly, Mahiru moves like a trained killer. Before she turned into the demon that she is now, she'd been a vampire— and before that, a prodigy, experimented on since childhood, formed into the monster she is. She hasn't fully possessed Guren before this moment, but it feels natural to her, like the body is her own. His desire to protect his friends had been his own downfall to this, so isn't it funny, that she's chasing down one of them now?
His pathetic little attachments.
Flicking the blood from the sword to the side, she ignores the way it splatters against the walls to launch after Choi. Running, jumping, she seems to hop too easily over obstacles as they fall in front of her— but they do buy him time.
She slashes or knocks through boxes with sword and forearm alike... And oddly, when one bit of shattered wood and miscellaneous debris cuts across her cheek in a thin line, it heals in only a matter of seconds. Slower than her usual, she notes. Due to the setting? )
[ there's little time to observe her movement when it's so quick. it's more the sound of it that informs him of what they're doing behind him—the crack of crates split apart and shattering against the nearest surface, the thin metallic sound of a blade slicing through the air. all the while, agent choi scrambles through the corridor, years of training and experience kicking in as he pulls himself through the door.
he doesn't bother with shutting it behind him. it's not worth the time it will take, and with that time, he can do something else:
clack.
something falls to the floor—a small object shaped like a toy jack.
this room, much more spacious and open than the previous one, will make it easier for him to attempt what he wants to do. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
— ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ ᴄʜᴏɪ
A voice cuts through, offering clues and direction, but it hardly matters when Guren realizes he can't stop himself from moving his arm. As the connection tightens painfully, Mahiru's voice sounds through like a bell in the darkness, too tempting: Leave it to me, Guren.
No, he thinks, but his lips won't move. Nothing will. And for him, in a rising sea of panic and anxious fear, his world goes black.
Across the tether, that consistent and quickened pace of frightened thumps comes to a startling halt. For a long moment, it might even seem like Guren's been caught and killed in record time— but then something stretches thin and bright like determination, muffled by the overwhelming noise of forced static. A practiced wall, an invader in a tether that still binds the both of them.
Mahiru is quiet as she moves, but she doesn't try to hide. She doesn't try to make this fun, either. There's none of her usual fanfare, no skipping, no smile— in Guren's body, she walks serious, sword held calmly, and listens. More than that, she feels. This tether pulls tighter, and she aims herself that way, as it's the only direction she has. )
no subject
it's probably just as well that this strange shift discourages him from hiding. after all, on guren's side, the feeling that this tether gives is subtly different from the others. the intensity increases as the stranger in his body approaches and cools if they distance themselves from him. the game of hot and cold acts as a beacon that calls out his location, which shouldn't be hard to stumble upon by following its lead.
for choi's part, empty-handed, he still chooses to wait rather than running. he's confident in hand-to-hand and even his improvisation skills if it comes to that, and the room he's chosen is a good one, he thinks—multiple exits if he does have to make his escape. two of them on the side of the room where he's currently ducked behind a stack of crates, and two of them on the opposite wall. he's silent as he waits for the sound of footsteps to approach. ]
this is so short but I feel like I can't do too much at once or it'll be crazy
( As Mahiru's voice travels through Guren's body, the word choice and attitude is all wrong. She's smiling, lifting her sword in front of herself as if to hold it up to the light and admire it. Here, her approaching footsteps finally stop, but it's ominous why that might be the case. )
You're going to hurt my feelings like that, Agent Choi.
fear not, we don't worry about tag length in this house
nevertheless, it's hard to help it now. he's not sure if it's something he should be helping either. when weighing his own life against another's, it isn't that he considers his own to be worthless, but there's certainly some math being done on agent choi's side as he lingers in his hiding spot for just a moment longer. in the end, it comes down to one thing: 'never retreat'. that's one of the rules of the hwarang he's dressed up as, after all, isn't it? so: ]
Seems like you know me, but I don't know you.
[ in the end, he steps out with a smile on his face, strained and sharp around the edges. it doesn't reach his eyes, where his gaze rests heavy on this guren who isn't guren at all. ]
What do you say? If you're going to hijack a civilian's body, the least you can do is properly introduce yourself.
no subject
( The laugh is too light, and as Mahiru lifts her head— Guren's body, Guren's head— the marks along Guren's body creep into view. Dark, spreading across his face and darkening even his sclera. The grin spreading across Guren's face most certainly belongs to someone else. )
I've never been a civilian. ( It sounds like she expects Choi to believe she's still Guren. Or maybe she just wants to plant the doubt there, that sparkle in her eyes clear as she observes him. ) Does my charming smile look different to you, in this lighting?
no subject
[ guren, that is.
his expression doesn't change even as the marks creep into view, even if his chest tightens at the sight. you see a lot of things in this line of work, and something like this isn't enough to make him falter. besides, whoever happens to be here right now seems sociable enough, if not exactly friendly. with an open-armed gesture, he'll try to make do with what he has: his words and his own, ever so charming smile. ]
Come on, I'm looking for a way for us to get along. If you won't tell me your name, why don't you tell me what you want—why you're here? Maybe we can work something out.
no subject
Right now, she needs to win this game, and get as far along as she can to find out what's going on here. )
I don't think so~.
( And so, while Choi extends his arms and makes a grand show of being the exact sort of person Guren would get sucked in by, swayed by, held back by, she won't do the same. She moves, and it's quick, and it's threatening, and as she lunges to close the distance with speed that's not quite human, she moves to try and plunge the sword right through his chest. Heart, is where she's aiming, but as she doesn't know this guy's strength and doesn't know this landscape, she'll work with whatever she can get. )
no subject
it's his upper arm that takes the brunt of the sword, slicing through muscle and fat alike as blood begins to pour out of the wound. the pain that follows sears down to the bone, and his laughter comes out in a sharp breath, audibly strained. ]
Haha, too bad...
[ but the real problem is in the absence of his weapon—that wannabe god didn't even let him keep so much as a glass handgun! ugh, it doesn't leave him with many options, and even less if he wants to avoid harming guren's body. what he's left with is... yeah, just that. with a broad grin stretched across his face: ]
See you later then!
[ choi will be sure to use those exits he'd prepared well!
it's a sprint to reach the nearest one, and if he can knock over any particularly precarious boxes on his way there, even better. with the key dangling around his neck, there's no way he'll be allowed an escape, but that doesn't change the fact that the correct choice in the face of many supernatural phenomena... is to run!!! ]
no subject
His pathetic little attachments.
Flicking the blood from the sword to the side, she ignores the way it splatters against the walls to launch after Choi. Running, jumping, she seems to hop too easily over obstacles as they fall in front of her— but they do buy him time.
She slashes or knocks through boxes with sword and forearm alike... And oddly, when one bit of shattered wood and miscellaneous debris cuts across her cheek in a thin line, it heals in only a matter of seconds. Slower than her usual, she notes. Due to the setting? )
no subject
he doesn't bother with shutting it behind him. it's not worth the time it will take, and with that time, he can do something else:
clack.
something falls to the floor—a small object shaped like a toy jack.
this room, much more spacious and open than the previous one, will make it easier for him to attempt what he wants to do. ]