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“Living in a mutant town, it’s always good to keep your medical supplies cabinet stocked,” he said cheerfully. “You never know when a laser beam will shoot through your living room window. It happens more often than you’d think.” 

Andrew isn’t comfortable sharing his problems -- which he knew were weaknesses in war -- with others, especially strangers. He wouldn’t even tell family, choosing instead to wait until his kneecaps were swelling like apples to visit the doctor’s office. He came regularly for athletic wrappings, pain relievers, and hot packs to relieve the pain from his joints. His new doctor may have been a bone manipulator, but years of damage wrought from shifting wouldn’t be reversed in a few meager weeks. It would be a long process until he was pain free.

“Does this mean you’re new to town?” he asked.

She nodded, a little thankful that her name had some meaning. It’d been a name she’d simply picked because of its similarity to her native one, but growing up she’d wished she’d chosen a Catholic name. The tidbit from the stranger made her feel better. “Yes, that’s true. I also think of her first if I’m honest. It’s not a terrible thing though.”

Hye-mi returned the smile but in a weaker form.  On his word, Hye-mi started heading to the aisle in question. “Bandages? What for?” She asked, curious to what he needed them for. Once again, it was none of her business but she still decided to ask. Gaining useless information always proved to be handy at some point.

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“Ah, just like the Johanna Spyri book,” he said. He grew up on the classics, his parents sparing him the watered down versions printed for kids. Reading the originals -- Heidi, Peter Pan, Winnie the Pooh -- always reminded him of home. “I suppose that supermodel woman is more recognizable to most people,” he said, as though in afterthought. He’d like to thank Project Runway re-runs for teaching him a little about pop culture.

Andy smiled again, a shy and slightly nervous little thing. “I think I saw those in the other aisle,” he said, “Right next to the -- oh, bandages! I knew I was forgetting to pick up something.”

“Good choice.” Hye-mi considered making him become less embarrassed, but the sudden and quick shift in that emotion would have been picked up on and she didn’t want to risk it. So she just nodded, not carrying on the subject because it was clear it was making him uncomfortable. And, really, she didn’t want to talk about it much longer with a stranger either.

“Heidi.” She replied, giving the English name she used in place of her native name. His surname was Korean, but she had no idea if he was and didn’t want to bother with pronunciation of her name. “Uh, Kwon.” She added, forgetting to introduce her family name along with her given one. “I’m also looking for the balls of cotton.” 

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“Yes, I’ll just go with that,” he said. The words collide together in a rushed breath, and his pink flush extends to the tips of his ears. If he didn’t win a brother of the year award for his bravery, then he wouldn’t know what was worthy of the medal. Most men thought they had it bad when doing the monthly shopping trip for the wives, daughters, or sisters. At least the women in their lives didn’t transform into dragons. 

“Andrew Kim,” he said. “And as for your name?” He seems like such a gentleman, from his polite and soft-spoken speech to the refined way he dresses himself. It makes him feel better; wearing his shirt tucked in reminded him not to sniff and scratch at people. Daphne didn’t seem to mind his bad habits, but she wasn’t the best person to base them off of. His girlfriend preferred animals to people, after all.

Hye-mi was too dazed and concerned about herself to register the situation quick enough. The expression on his face was humorous, though. She bit down on her lip and tried to straighten her face so as to not make the victim of her missteps more red than he already was. With her free hand, Hye-mi picked up the products he had thrown as a result of her clumsiness. Whatever the reason he had two separate types of tampons for was none of her business, but she was still vocal about it. “You should probably just get the box of Tampax Pearl.” She offered advice even though she didn’t know if it was needed or wanted. “Take a few breaths too, you look like a poppy.”

At his offer to look, Hye-mi nodded as if it were a suitable alternative for a thank you. “What’s your name?” She asked as she handed back the sanitary products. Her glued hand was beginning to to itch, which was bothersome.

[andy--kim-blog]

At home, there’s a teenage girl curled around a heating pack waiting for him to return with "the goods". Andrew could handle an assortment of challenges -- ripping off heads, pulling the trigger of a gun, swallowing a human whole...but not this.

He couldn’t figure out the difference between Tampax and Tampax Pearl.

Andrew had both boxes in his hands, which he looked back and forth from as though they’d reveal their true nature. He considered getting both, then throwing them and a pound of chocolate at his sister when he got home. The young man is far too engrossed in his shopping dilemma, and being stepped on catches him by surprise. The boxes go flying out of his hands and his expression contorts into one of pure horror. “I, uh, I’m afraid that I don’t,” he stammered, his cheeks turning bright red. “You...You certainly have a dilemma here and, uh, I could look.”

Honestly, he just wanted to get out of the damn feminine products aisle.

Hye-mi, fingers super-glued together due to a project error, decided to leave the apartment in search of nail polish remover at the convenience store. She didn’t bother asking her neighbours, simply because she preferred not to speak to them. The only person she did speak to in her apartment blocks was the elderly man who sometimes offered everyone steamed buns. To calm herself down from the anxiety of having her fingers super-glued, Hye-mi used her powers on herself to create a sense of relaxation. Perhaps too relaxed. Upon walking backwards and standing onto someone’s foot, Hye-mi turned very slowly and it took her a while to remember the simple word. “Sorry.” She apologised. “Also, do you know where the nail polish remover is? Got myself into a pickle.” To clarify she showed them her stuck-together fingers.

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“It’s difficult to prevent bitterness from consuming you, and dragging on a war will only produce a generation of young mutants who remember bombs and death. The quicker this is solved, the better for all of us. You have to obliterate your enemy, assert your title, and maintain it. After all: The bird fights itself out of the egg. The egg is the world. Those who want to be born must first destroy a world.”

“There’s no time for morals and peace talks when my little sister’s school is demolished by the government. You do what is necessary.”

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Andrew’s greatest insecurity was his flesh. Disillusioned movie directors loved portraying scars as cute silver, crescent moons or white crisscrosses in pleasing patterns. He understood the business behind it; they couldn’t disfigure teenage heartthrobs on the big screen and still expect to make a return on their investments. He also understood that the “ugliest” scars, the ones that marred and twisted flesh in reality, were reserved for movie villains.

It always bothered him that the closest he could look like was a villain.

From the neck below, he was; twisted and speckled, indented and raised, burnt and branded, and left with white marks for the rest of his life. With springtime nearing, he knew that the change in clothes would expose him to all sorts of unwanted questions. It was the reason that despite the warm weather, he didn’t want to remove his jacket completely. He was wearing quarter-sleeves and wasn’t fully prepared for the seasonal explanations. Still, it was getting to be too warm outside. With a sigh, he took the jacket off and folded it on the table behind him. 

He estimated anywhere from between five to fifteen minutes before someone asked “what’s wrong with your skin?”

“I’m staying hopeful that I’ll be seeing you on receiving day,” he said, a small smile on his lips, “Like I’ve said before, it’s only 10% physical and 90% mental.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if most people feel as though they won’t make it through the first day,” he added, “Ah, but I’ll try to avoid having people run off if I can. We’re in war time, right? We need all the people we can get, don’t you think?”

She shrugged. “That’s fine.”

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“What does Ben look like? He looks like the world’s biggest nerd happened to glue scruff to his face,” he mused, “Ah, you can tell that we’re best friends.” He looked over with a teasing smirk, which proved that the ex-hermit at least had a sense of humor. The towers of books he used to cower behind had taught him the literary value of satire, sarcasm, and irony. But he never started laughing -- aloud, at least -- until he’d met his best friends. 

The whirlwind of scents and sounds left him disoriented, so he was glad that Mimi was leading the way. He was silent for a moment, before falling into his usual rambles. “I wouldn’t say it was a pur...” he said, “It’s a little more ferocious than that, don’t you think? Like...like a growl or a mean snarl! Yes, those are manly things.”

At least he hadn’t sniffed her or licked her cheek yet.

Mimi cooed over the low rumble that echoed from the man’s chest over the head pat.  “Now are you a cat or a dragon, ‘cause I could’ve sworn you were just purring, cher,” she teased.

Once again, Mimi elbowed people out of their way as they wove through the crowd, this time towards the bar.  “Tell me what he looks like and we’ll keep an eye out.  If he catches you I give you full permission to say you lost a bet to me and I’m getting you drunk as punishment.”

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“Thank you for offering, but I’m being rather selective when it comes to instructors,” he said apologetically, “It’s nothing personal.”

“My credentials aren’t nearly as honorable as yours, but they certainly are just as -- if not more -- efficient,” he said, giving a laugh.

She gave a thoughtful nod and tucked the paper into her purse. “I’ll stop by. If you want, I can help teach. I’m a cop, and my boyfriend, and ex-Marine, showed me some stuff he learned.” His eagerness was incredibly amusing, but when she noticed the scars, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

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“The standard transformation into a soldier mindset -- you know, things that you’d typically experience in the human military,” he explained, “Only, it has a rather unique twist to it.”

“I believe that I have certain experiences and skills that you can’t find anywhere else,” he said, smiling shyly, “I may not look like it at first glance, but nobody I’ve ever personally trained has ever died in battle. I won’t give everything away, but I think it’ll be beneficial to both the experienced and inexperienced.” 

His face glowed with a youthful eagerness, as though he were a child presenting a school project. He unzipped his jacked, which tugged on the collar of his dress shirt. One could blink and miss it, but his skin from the neck-down was disfigured by twisting scars.  

“I think, above all, it would be good for our town to be a team.”

Riannon scanned the flyer curiously, Filos sniffing the young man’s shoe. She probably didn’t need to go to the camp, considering she was a cop who was dating a former Marine, who was also a cop, but it didn’t hurt to look. “What kind of things will you be teaching?”

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On both the fold-out tables behind him and piled high in his arms were stacks of fliers reading: Coalition for a Safer Ashworth: Bootcamp Opportunities! 

“Thank you for taking a flyer,” he said, “As for the difficulty rating, I’d say bootcamp is 90% mental and 10% physical.”

Andrew decided that after personally training his younger sister for the past few months, -- the youngest Kim could kill you fourteen different ways with a rubber band -- that it wouldn’t hurt to share his knowledge with the rest of the town. Nobody could deny that he was more than qualified to lead exercises in training and self-defense. But sweet, shy, demure little Andy?

The ones who snickered at his smiling face would be in for hell.

But for now, he’d keep his plans subtle. 

“It’s not affiliated with the town in any order,” he explained, “I’ve just noticed that there are a few areas of practice that the training grounds don’t cover. Do you have any questions?”

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Damn.

A good pat on the head was his ultimate weakness. 

The content growl that rumbled from deep within his throat had all the bass of a revving car engine, and definitely belonged to a much bigger creature than himself. Only when his new tour guide moved away, did he recollect himself and give an awkward cough. “My girlfriend and I run the town library,” he said, “But, uh, I suppose that you could say I’m the official boss.”

“As long as Ben doesn’t catch me drunk again, we’re good,” he sighed, giving a look around, “He acts like a few drinks are the end of the world. I don’t even have an alcohol problem, but he’ll knock a beer out of my hands regardless.”

Mimi leaned against the wall again, crossing her arms with a grin as she listened to the man - Andrew, she reminded herself - ramble on for a short while.  When he was finally done, she laughed again, this time not even bothering to hide her laugh.  “You’re a precious little man-eating beastie, aren’t ya?” she cooed, reaching up and ruffling his hair before stepping back once more, giving him a mock-salute.  “Mirabella Levesque, at your service.  Call me Mimi, though, unless you feel like finding out how barbecued dragon smells.”

Grin widening, Mimi clapped her hands together delightedly.  “Are you the librarian, lil’ beastie?  I’ll be sure to stop in.  But meanwhile…”  Her grin took on a mischievous edge then, as Mimi linked their arms together and started to pull him out of the bathroom.  “I’m gonna buy you a drink, Mr. Librarian.”

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“Th-th-thank you, that’s awfully nice of you to say,” he stammered, “The scales are usually this gold color, maybe with some green patches on the underbelly. I’m Andrew Kim -- uh, it’s a really ordinary name so I wouldn’t be offended if you forget it. I mean, there 867,905 people in the United States named Andrew. Then if you factor in the whole Kim surname -- there are a lot of Kims -- that’s 22% of South Korea’s entire population and...Hello.”

Originally posted by yonqqvk

“Before I can bore you to death, do you mind sharing your name as well?” he asked, “I really want to thank you for showing me to the sink. Come visit the library sometime. If you ever need a library card, you can cut the line.”

Mimi could feel her eyebrows raising slowly as the seemingly shy, hesitant man spoke.  “Okay, then.  Big dragon,” she echoed, narrowing her eyes a bit as she tried to imagine it.  The only image she had in her mind was a dragon sitting on someone’s car and then apologizing profusely.  Did dragons blush?  The one in her mind was definitely blushing.  “What color?”

Once again Mimi found herself slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, this time at his surprise ‘confession’.  “Oh my god, that’s - that’s adorable,” she cackled, shaking her head as she mimed wiping a tear from her eye.  Grinning, she pointed a finger at the man.  “You, Mister man-eating, book-hoarding, car-squishing dragon, are awesome.  What’s your name?”

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“W-w-well, a big dragon actually,” he corrected, “I have special insurance that covers me in case I accidentally sit on someone’s new car again.” He rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his head slightly, but it didn’t hide his growing blush. Andrew was unfortunately blessed with a pair of ears that turned as red as a fire engine when he was embarrassed. “It, um, happens more often than you’d think.”

He paused for what felt like the most arduous, awkward silence in his life. He had to say something that wouldn’t make him sound like a nerd, that wouldn’t make him sound like a total loser, that wouldn’t --

“I hoard books instead of gold,” he blurted.

He was never the popular one in school.

Mimi paused at the question, eyes focused on the flames that continued to dance their way across her skin.  “My sister taught me,” she replied slowly, the fire sparking a bit in time with her words.  “As my parents had taught her, and their parents taught them…  We were from a family of mutants, long before any of this shit ever happened.”  For a moment she was silent, before she shook her head quickly, curling her fingers into a fist to snuff out the fire completely.

Serious mood lifted, Mimi couldn’t help the giggle that threatened to spill out as the man choked, clapping a hand over her mouth to avoid being completely rude.  “Oh my god, that’s adorable,” she laughed, dropping her hand with a grin.  “So, wait.  Fire breathing and man eating?  You sound like a lil’ dragon or something, hon.”

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"Say that to me again."

In over four hundred days of friendship, he never laid a finger on his friend with the intent to kill. Now, things were different.

"Say that to me again, you piece of shit," he said. The surprisingly calm, steadiness to his voice was offset by the yellow glint in his eye and the golden scales cropping up along his neck.

His movements were swift, precise, and surgical in execution. He took one step forward, then hooked his other leg around Ben's ankles. Andrew yanked his leg backwards to send Ben toppling.

There was no mercy as Ben fell.

Andrew jerked his friend's arm and heard the unsettling, unnatural crack of a shoulder leaving its socket. His hands were loose, but steady. They'd bend bones forwards and backwards without hesitation as Ben slipped back. He bent the first bone of Ben's index finger backwards, then the next forwards, then the next backwards again; it was like folding origami to him. Cracks resonated throughout the room.

"Do your bones hurt yet?" he asked, "Or do you need me to break the other side?"

Swift kicks connected his polished dress shoes to his best friend's ribs. He wasn't bothering to restrain himself, and it took its toll. His teeth elongated into sharper and sharper points with each kick.

"Call me an animal," he snarled, "I fucking dare you to, you selfish piece of shit." A smattering of Korean swears decorated the end of his insults. He yelled insults and hatred and demands in the language of his childhood home.

All the while, he made sure that each kick was done harder than the last.

Soft Sekeletons | CLOSED

“Do you really think that acting like this makes you a grown man?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, “You can’t even control yourself. Just look at you, shrieking and grovelling on the floor like a dog.”  Andrew scoffed at the garbage bags overflowing near the front door, and his lip curled at the sight. “No, like a pig.”

His irises burned a cold, heartless yellow reminiscent of a reptile. The young spread his arms apart, gesturing to the state of the apartment. “This is my fault?” he laughed, “Really?” 

He shook his head, then yanked back the garbage bag to finish what he’d started. “Pulling the sister card, huh?” he said, shaking his head, “At least I’m confident enough in other people’s love not to question it.” 

Andrew stopped before he could say anything more; he needed to remember that Ben was drowning under the influence of drugs and not thinking clearly. His best friend would never speak to him in such a way otherwise. 

“I know I’m not perfect, but I’m taking steps to correct myself. You know why? Because I care about my friends and family – you’re included in there, you know,” he sighed, “Ben, please…can you at least sit down if you don’t want to help?” 

Andy focused on the feel of each object tossed into the trash, rather than the rage building inside him. 

“I’m not leaving,” he said, “I’m not leaving while knowing that you’re living like this.”

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“Do you really think that acting like this makes you a grown man?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, “You can’t even control yourself. Just look at you, shrieking and grovelling on the floor like a dog.”  Andrew scoffed at the garbage bags overflowing near the front door, and his lip curled at the sight. “No, like a pig.”

His irises burned a cold, heartless yellow reminiscent of a reptile. The young spread his arms apart, gesturing to the state of the apartment. “This is my fault?” he laughed, “Really?” 

He shook his head, then yanked back the garbage bag to finish what he’d started. “Pulling the sister card, huh?” he said, shaking his head, “At least I’m confident enough in other people’s love not to question it.” 

Andrew stopped before he could say anything more; he needed to remember that Ben was drowning under the influence of drugs and not thinking clearly. His best friend would never speak to him in such a way otherwise. 

“I know I’m not perfect, but I’m taking steps to correct myself. You know why? Because I care about my friends and family -- you’re included in there, you know,” he sighed, “Ben, please...can you at least sit down if you don’t want to help?” 

Andy focused on the feel of each object tossed into the trash, rather than the rage building inside him. 

“I’m not leaving,” he said, “I’m not leaving while knowing that you’re living like this.”

Soft Sekeletons | CLOSED

Ben felt like there were tiny spiders crawling through his veins, everything just felt off and wrong and his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, his fists were only getting tighter around the plastic bag, pressure was building up inside and before he knew it, the bag popped. Drug spilling all over the hardwood floor, his eyes went wide and it felt like his heart stopped in his chest.

“This is your fault!” he screamed, dropping to his knees and trying to save whatever he could of the spilled contents. He had been running out of money, he’d been missing work and skipping his bills, all so he could afford a few tiny bags. His hand came up until his nose, rubbing it without thinking and sniffling as he frantically dropped pinches of the powder back into the bed.

“This is all your fault, you shouldn’t have come here, you ruin everything! You claim that I’m a monster because I do something you don’t like, something you don’t agree with, but who’s the beast that runs around town and fucking kills people?” his words were getting colder and colder, his heart thumping speeding up more.

“I think you need to leave. My high wore off before you even showed up and ruined everything. You know what doesn’t make me happy? When you parade around like you’re so much better than me, like I’m some sort of child you can boss around whenever you want. I’m a grown fucking man and I can make decisions for myself. You’re no better than me, you’re just as much of a piece of shit, even Noelle doesn’t like you.”

He was scratching at his arms now, his nose felt warm and tingly and it was in that moment that he’d realized…he had a nose bleed.

Most wouldn’t think much of this, but it was the result of his decisions as of lately, it just proved that he was hurting himself, that he had lost it all.

He brought his sleeve up to his nose and took a heavy breath.

“You can call me whatever you want, but don’t act like you aren’t just as much of a waste of space as I am.”

[andy--kim-blog]

"That's exactly what this is about," he snapped, "I came here because I wanted to help you. Why else would I be here, Ben? There aren't many people in the world who care about their friends enough to make sure they don't throw their lives away."

Newly sprung claws punctured the stress ball inside his pocket, leaving him with nothing but deflating plastic. Another gift from Grannie was successfully shredded to ribbons.

"There's already one monster in the room; he has dilated pupils, red eyes, and he hasn't showered in a week."

He gritted his teeth together. The words stung; he didn't like being called a monster no more than Ben liked being called the f-word. What stung more than the words, however, was the fact it came from the one person who knew of its impact.

"Ben, this is the drug talking," he said, crossing his arms, "This isn't you, alright? Living like this doesn't make you fine or happy. There are things we need to workout because this is destroying you from the inside out. I'm here because you're worth more than this, so I can't stand by and watch you fuck around with this dangerous shit! You don't need to make any decisions now. Just sit down, sober up, and I'll make you a coffee."

Soft Sekeletons | CLOSED

Andrew forced himself to keep a neutral expression, no matter how desperately he wanted to snarl. “Ben, there’s no need to yell,” he said slowly, “Why don’t you put the plastic bag down, then we can talk about it.”

He would admit that he hadn’t always been the best of friends. He was someone with too much emotional baggage to make room for other people, at least not unless they expected to make a long commitment. But, he’d been putting the hours into counseling sessions and physical therapy. He wanted to get better. He wanted to be a friend worth the time of the people he loved.

“Ben, I ignored the doctors because I was in denial,” he said firmly, “I’m in denial, just like you are. I was…also in excruciating pain – every single day – and couldn’t solve a sudoku puzzle without a bottle of pain killers, let alone try to think in the long term about my life.”

He squeezed the stress ball in his pocket extra hard.

“You’re my best friend,” he said, “I want to help you, but it’s so hard to…keep composed while you’re yelling. I think you should see someone. I really think you need to see a specialist.”

[andy--kim-blog]

Andrew forced himself to keep a neutral expression, no matter how desperately he wanted to snarl. "Ben, there's no need to yell," he said slowly, "Why don't you put the plastic bag down, then we can talk about it."

He would admit that he hadn't always been the best of friends. He was someone with too much emotional baggage to make room for other people, at least not unless they expected to make a long commitment. But, he'd been putting the hours into counseling sessions and physical therapy. He wanted to get better. He wanted to be a friend worth the time of the people he loved.

"Ben, I ignored the doctors because I was in denial," he said firmly, "I'm in denial, just like you are. I was...also in excruciating pain -- every single day -- and couldn't solve a sudoku puzzle without a bottle of pain killers, let alone try to think in the long term about my life."

He squeezed the stress ball in his pocket extra hard.

"You're my best friend," he said, "I want to help you, but it's so hard to...keep composed while you're yelling. I think you should see someone. I really think you need to see a specialist."

Soft Sekeletons | CLOSED

Andy took a moment to silently thank all the saints up in heaven for his anger management classes. He couldn’t take a deep breath because of the garbage stench permeating the room, so he reached into his pocket for a stress toy.

“Ben, you obviously can’t live in this condition,” he said gently, “I know the breakup was hard on you, but leaving all this trash around isn’t sanitary.” Andrew could sniff out cocaine faster than a bloodhound and he knew that Ben was still struggling, but he didn’t know how bad the addiction was. “It’s not good for your health to have all this laying around.”

He scooped up a pile of crumpled napkins – and unknowingly, a plastic bag of white powder in the middle of the pile – into the trash bag. “What are you talking about?” he sighed, “We always leave open doors for each other.”

Andrew looked up with a frown. 

“I’m just here to give you a hand, like any friend would.”