samranumb

[samranumb]

mister blue sky.

Hey you with the pretty face, welcome to the human race.  A celebration. Mr. Blue Sky’s up there waiting. 

His mother called him useless for putting his attention on the wrong things, said instead of a guitar, his hands would have been better used holding book and computers, test tubes or needles. 

Fuck all of that, he always responded. If only his mother knew how easily panties dropped at a beautiful voice. How tempting a warm smile and a love song could be for a yearning heart. 

Even now, within these walls and without his guitar, he could make tired soldiers turn around and listen. A few times he even managed to gather a small crowd, catching a few pairs of exhausted eyes along with whispered names that he’d later seek out during the colder nights. They were all just trying to survive and this was his way. 

Today, however, Samran was only singing for one.

“How about it, Dove?” He leaned back with a smug look that he wouldn’t consider particularly attractive. “Ten out of ten? Where is my round of applause?” He liked Jane ( @umbjane ). She was...how shall we put it...a good listener. No matter how ridiculous he got with his jokes and comments, she could never talk back or yell over him. At the most, she’d glare with her pretty doe eyes, which he found to be cute and 100% non-threatening. 

“Falling in love with me yet?” He rested his chin on his palm. “Want to hold my hand and roll on the grass together?” If so, Samran figured he could at least get to the second base before they got caught. 

[samranumb]

exam time.

umbseol​:

(...)

there was no further briefing, no surveyors to help with the no. of possible casualties – there’s none, she thinks. there are only monsters here, the question is… how many. seol was about to go up another flight when it hit her that she came here with another soldier, that he was not here for nothing. groaning, she turns back and sees a monster with no eyes, arms stretched out, walking past the bottom platform. she holds her breath, gun out as she goes down slowly, trying not to make noise. if she could just sneak past behind this monster… quietly, they wouldn’t broadcast their location to any other monster here with the gunshot.

You heard him, forty minutes. Yeah, yeah, as if the exam instructor would kick them in the face if they took forty-five. “Come on, woman, have a bit of flexibility. This is an exam, not a war.” Samran followed behind the woman, complaining diligently while running his eyes over her frame in a quick onceover. “Nice ass,” he threw in the compliment amidst the complaints, grateful that there was at least one thing about this whole exam situation that he was enjoying. “What’s your name? Which generation?” Since she wasn’t responding to complaints or compliments, he’d moved on to actual questions.

The entire time, the woman was silent. Probably for a good reason, now that he was actually looking into the distance.

“What the fuck is that.” Actually, he knew what it was, in theory. A monster, right? They were training to fight things like these, yes, but what was one actually doing here when this was supposed to be an exam? Was Umbrella so hardcore that they’d have actual monsters in exams?

“Ah, fuck me, that is not Bob in costume, is it?” He was panicking a little bit, and that usually made him louder and chattier. “Okay, so, this might be a good time to tell you that I have never actually seen one of those before. I’ve just been studying, okay? As in classroom. I am not particularly keen on- holy shitcakes it is fucking coming oh my sweet Lord Jesus Christ-”

AAAaaaaHHHHH shit.

“Later homie!” And with that, he turned around and ran like hell because he was not about to become dinner for no-eyes over there. Funnily enough, when he got to the front entrance, some strange force refused to let him exit. “Hey! Hey!” He yelled, turning around to see if the monster was coming. Guess this exam wasn’t entirely unsupervised after all, someone was definitely here and wanting to make sure he stayed.

“Fine...fine!” He turned back towards the building and grabbed onto the window ledge. Wasn’t that stupid Sally doll on the eleventh floor or something? Nobody said he had to take the stairs and chill with the monster - he shall just climb his way up from the outside instead.

[samranumb]

how to greet a cat.

umbdea​:

(...)

“is this how you greet a stranger? by asking them to purr?” she asked, bored as she glanced at her claws hands. “I have no intention to please a rando.” she nearly hissed, gritting her teeth. “You’re rude, Sam.” she said, purposely leaving half of his name behind. she didn’t care to learn it properly, and it was easier to pronounce. “I guess you’ll find out what i can do, won’t you?” she chuckled, a strange pleased expression on her features (a stark contrast and shift from the sudden hostility she’d shown earlier.) “I like to play with my toys first, if you must know.” she leaned in, placing her fist under her chin, elbow propped on her crossed knees. “what do you do? besides you know… the obvious.” she looked at him up and down, judging him openly with disdain. 

"Stranger?” 

How rude. 

“I believe the term we are supposed to use is comrade.” He smiled, putting emphasis on that final word. “That is what we’ve been taught in class.” To be honest though, Samran found this entire organization to be a giant mess of contradictions. On one hand they wanted them to call each other comrades and fellow soldiers - they were always supposed to go out in squads and were encouraged to help one another too. On the other hand, however, they were expected to open fire on someone immediately upon their turning, even as they still retained their humanoid forms. 

Yeah, yeah, it was all in the name of survival. Still, sometimes Samran felt like the organization was asking for too much. 

“I can manipulate emotions. Or in theory I should be able to. At the present rank, though, I can only make monsters hate me the most.” He poured himself a glass of orange juice. “I can be good bait material, I guess.” Can being the keyword there. Samran had not been performing to the best of his ability during exams for the sole purpose of retaining control. This way, if he didn’t trust his teammates to be able to kill the monster while he was risking his life and keeping the thing distracted, he didn’t mind accidentally slipping and let the monster chomp on someone else instead. Afterwards, when the organization ask, just play it off as a my bad, still trying my best to learn how to work with my super power! This had to be done very discreetly, of course, this organization didn’t need soldiers who only watched out for themselves, even though it was human nature to do so. 

Pouring a second glass of orange juice, Samran offered it to Dea. “Because of the nature of my role, I like getting to know people and make sure they are capable.” Look at him, being all serious about this. “I know the kitty has sharp claws,” he said, eyes on her hands. “But can I trust her to use them on the right target later?” 

[samranumb]

how to greet a cat.

“Here, kitty kitty.” 

He felt it - the gaze full of murderous intent - but that wasn’t enough to deter him from saying what he said and raising a stalk of catnip that he’d stolen from some random old lady’s backyard. Samran was born ballsy, and if one day that should get his head ripped off of his neck, then so be it. 

“No purr?” He grinned, flashing his teeth. “I guess I am getting ahead of myself - not all kitties warm up right away.” The stray that he used to let in through his bedroom window certainly didn’t. It stared at him with wary eyes for the longest time, body tense and ready to fight. Why did it come in the first place then? Samran wasn’t sure. Maybe it was drawn to the warmth - on a cold winter night, perhaps his companionship (however irritating) was preferred to the muddy sidewalks. 

“Do I have to feed you for two months first?” Samran attempted to toss the catnip into the nearby garbage can and missed. Didn’t pick it up and try again though. “Fine, let’s do greetings the normal human way. I am Samran. They told me I’ll with working with you on the next mission.” They didn’t tell him exactly what the mission would be about, which was probably a good thing. Samran was the type that needed to be surprised when it came to work, otherwise he’d try everything he could to avoid the really shitty tasks - like that one colleague of yours that always called in sick on Mondays. 

“Is it really true you can turn into a cat? What about a dog?” Moon Dea (@umbdea) would make furries so very happy. 

[samranumb]

exam time.

At first, he thought oh sweet, road trip! But then he noticed that he was going in a car, and not a bus. Also there was only one other soldier sitting next to him. 

“Okay, what did I do?” He demanded at the driver, unbuckling his seat belt and trying to wiggle his way into the passenger seat. “You are not going to drive me to some isolated place and shoot me, right?” Samran’s ass was right in the other soldier face during this entire struggle, and no, he wasn’t sorry. If anything, he figured the little lady (@umbseol) would enjoy the view.  

The driver ignored him. 

“Come on, Bob!” Samran whined, knowing very well their lovely chauffeur’s name was not Bob. 

The car made a sharp turn, and out of consideration for his own safety, Samran sat back down. Later, when the road started getting bumpy, he even buckled up his seat belt again. He was too young and good looking to die, after all. 

Approximately later, the car stopped in front of what appeared to be an abandoned building. With half stripped walls, ripped down wooden gate and a caved in roof, it looked quite horror movie worthy. 

“Alright, get out. It’s exam time for both of you.” The driver shooed them both out and towards the building before producing a doll. “This is Sally,” not-Bob introduced in a serious tone, raising a cotton thing with two braids and red shoes. “She is the civilian that you are trying to rescue together.” He pulled on a string and the doll moved its arms, cheerfully introducing herself in a robotic voice. “I will place her on the eleventh floor.” The driver snapped his finger and the doll disappeared - a neat power that was definitely more useful than Samran’s. “You have forty minutes, starting now.” With that, the guy drove off. 

"Wait, don’t you have to watch us or something? Are there cameras in the building?” All Samran got in return was some dirt in his face, raised by the speedy bastard’s car wheels. 

Rolling his eyes, Samran turned his attention towards the creepy building. “Well, I am not going in there. Climbing to eleventh floor sounds awful- wait, where are you going?!”

[samranumb]

oh, fancy seeing you here ~

samran is a ho, that’s all. 

jk, i can’t just leave it at that. samran had really shitty parents, snooty brother and cute baby sister. his parents expected him to be something he wasn’t and did everything they could to correct him. eventually, he got fed up and figured he could just act like the dumb bitch hooligan they kept on insisting that he was. 

personality wise, samran’s pretty extroverted. he enjoys making random conversation with strangers on the street, though oftentimes he pick offensive topics. he doesn’t respect authority and would not be going on mission at all if he had any choice in the matter. unfortunately, while he doesn’t mind a beating, solitary confinements do scare him so he does the bare minimum soldier stuff.

his power is emotion manipulation, but at rank b all he can do is make monsters hate him more than the others. this makes him a great bait, but he is also not the self-sacrificing type and often annoyed with his role. 

he likes good looking people and is touchy feely. so if he sees a face that he likes, he’ll actually walk up to you and try to touch you as hello. samran feels like the organization is very dull and having sex is one of the few fun things you can actually do, so he’s constantly trying to hook up. over the years, he’s gotten better at not getting caught! 

if you want to plot with samran, hit me up. plot bunnies here:

someone who had a pretty good life pre-umbrella, and he’s secretly jealous of. 

someone who had an even shittier life than he did, and they could semi-bond over shitty parents. 

a mentor? some sort of older person he actually looks up to?

one of his hook up buddies? 

[samranumb]

💫💫💫

[samranumb]

candy canes.

There was a girl that he liked since the sixth grade. She had really pretty long hair and a small kitten face, with huge eyes and a pert nose. Samran sat behind her in class for years and had no idea how to strike up a conversation. One day, he put a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed it sticky. When she wasn’t paying attention, he took the disgusting wad out of his mouth and stuck it on her head. Her lovely chestnut brown locks, all tangled up, became such a pitiful mess. When her friends pointed it out, she started crying, tears mixing with the black of her eyeliner and flowing as two streams down her cheeks. 

And in that moment, he fell out of love. 

She asked him what to do, and Samran said he could totally fix it. When she agreed to let him try, he took out a pair of scissors and cut the pesky gum out. In horror she stared at him, the sadness in her eyes turning into something sharper...hotter. He raised a brow as she came at him, slender fingers clenching into fists of outrage. Scooting back, he had just enough time and reflexes to catch her wrists. 

“Hey-” Some of the guys in class warned him, but their sentences were cut short as the scene rapidly changed from one of violence to one of romance. Samran found the perfect opening and took it, landing his lips atop the girl’s. Embarrassment joined in with anger to color her cheeks, and she was so beautiful in that moment that he knew he fancied her again.

They went on two dates before he got her in bed and when she cried after he didn’t text back for a week, he realized he had fallen out of love again. 

One after another, people came and went. His bed was cold, and then it was warm. Some of them were sweet, and others were spicy. A few were bitter, but he didn’t mind the unique flavor. 

His mom called, asking him where he was, but Samran was too busy stuffing his mouth with candy canes. The excessive amount of sugar numbed the tip of his tongue, but put a rush in his head. He went from peppermint to mango, back to cherry where it all started. Boxes and boxes he put aside, and ignored angry voice messages from his father, telling him that he mustn’t live like this. 

Should he feel something, confronted by his parents’ disappointment? Was there something inherently missing, or did he simply lock it away after all those lightless nights at the labor camps? He did give his parents chances back then, didn’t he? Once upon a time, hadn’t he some expectations too? 

His lips were still crusted with sugar when his sister rang. This call he picked up. 

“When you come home?” She whined.

Samran glanced at the clock, it was already past dinner time and he hadn’t even had breakfast. “Uh...Eventually. Maybe. What’s up?” His parents didn’t usually allow her at the phone.

“People are looking for you, Samran!” The little sister lowered her voice, as if she was telling him a secret. 

“Who?” Sounded serious, so probably more along the lines of cops as opposed to spurned lovers. 

“They said they are with an orga-nee-zee-tion of some kind.” She fell silent briefly, likely thinking. This was a rather big word for her limited vocabulary. 

Ah, dang it. Guess those bastards heard about what happened during the Christmas party then. 

“Umbrella, right?” Samran crawled out of the bed and searched for a pair of pants. “Yeah, tell them to wait right there. I’ll be home in an hour.”