blckchariot-blog

[blckchariot-blog]

     it's hard to define chariot's emotions towards everything that has happened. a sense of loneliness and anxiety—he misses dahlia. he wonders if she's doing well on her exams—she's entering high school next year, after all. he has no doubt their baby sister will excel at anything she puts her mind to, but he wishes he could be there for her.

     not that she knows who they are anymore.

     however, his feelings towards his older sister are more complicated. the child in him wants to rely on her, still caught in the image of her taller, protective figure from back when they were still kids. they were only a year apart, but chariot grew up slower than other boys his age. it wasn't until high school that he suddenly shot up in height, puberty kicking in and suddenly, before he knew it, he ended up the tallest in their family. he remembers daisy having had some trouble adjusting to not being able to reach his head to ruffle his hair anymore, but they found a compromise in him leaning down with a grin on his face.

     but now, even she has changed. he no longer had to lower his head anymore—not just because she had grown overnight, but because they could no longer afford such affections. they weren't daniel and daisy kang anymore, but instead chariot and von. completely unrelated to each other, they had decided on day one, but yet they ended up 'friends' again anyway. he supposes it's impossible for them to pretend to be strangers, they still had to talk and all.

     though he wonders why he feels so sad when everyone believes them so easily.

     he feels a firm squeeze on his shoulder and turns to look at von, a flicker of relief and recognition in his eyes. it's painful how he has to hide the familiarity in his voice, but he gives her a smile anyway.

     "yeah, i'm free," he nods, giving the other candidates a small wave. "i'll catch up with you guys tomorrow."

     he lets her lead the way, holding his tongue long enough for them to get out of earshot.

     "what's wrong?" the concerned words finally tumble out of his mouth, studying her face with a frown on his features. he’ll be the one to protect her this time. "is everything okay?"

clandestine ➹

☆.｡.:* dusk comes with the promising embrace of moonlight. it brings a unique stillness, to the time of reflection upon the day passed &.a small restlessness to await the day which will soon come by with the rousing of the sun. it is when the birds sing goodnight until the stars bid them to dream in the comforts of their nest. each shade of the sky deepens in noble solemnity, finding unity in the night. 

      a time for calmness but her nerves ever the quake more beneath her skin. spastic they demand many things but she knows she will be unable to give them all. not in this confinement where ears & eyes exist everywhere in shapes that most people would once grasp as harmless.

         nonetheless the presence of her brother is so welcome. an anchor for her emotions. a voice in her mind tells her she should not approach with such casualness but she misses the attachment she has with her siblings. both, now trickled down into one. so she reaches her hands forward, hands giving a shoulder a squeeze. once, she would not reach with such ease, but now it was different. she could say she hated it, in a way.

 　　❝   are you free right now to uh…talk? ❞　 her head tilts away to a distant corner, an emphasis for the two of them to pry themselves away from everyone else. for words to fall only on their ears.

 　　❝   i need help with sparring. ❞　 it’s a lie. just an excuse for others to hear in case suspicion is raised.

a pas de deux for you @blckchariot​

[blckchariot-blog]

🐱  @ riotouschausie   •   3m

good morning to you too

         💬1          ⥃          ♡ 6

[blckchariot-blog]

when you arrive to the party with snacks but you are the biggest snack of them all~

[blckchariot-blog]

     there were certainly no absence of...colorful characters around blcktmpl, chariot had come to realize. not that he was cowering in fear or anything, but there seemed to be a definite lack of common sense in his life anymore. surprise, right? who would’ve thought being exposed to deaths and murders like this would turn people crazy.

     some less so than others, he thinks as he goes through the list of ‘friends’ he has in his head. it’s a short list for sure, but he had met violet through his sister, so the trust was already sort of there. he believes in von’s judgement, but he can’t help but be wary anyway. just something in the back of his head telling him that these people are still murderers in the end.

     but at this point, he would be a hypocrite to judge.

     “hey, vi,” he cracks open his own can of soda, taking a sip before joining her on the couch. it’s a common area, after all. they won’t get weird looks for hanging out together.

     “barely, but what about him?” he raises his eyebrows at violet’s words, a mixture of intrigued and worry settling in his stomach. “also what are you wearing?” he finally realizes her attire and furrows his brow, taken aback by the unusual style. “are you cosplaying or something?”

     “he won’t be bothering— what did you do?” his voice turns stern, almost accusatory. he knows her well enough to know just how far she’ll go on a whim. “don’t tell me you...” he trails off, hoping for her to somehow prove him wrong. 

ㅡ my immortal,

♡ selecting user: @blckchariot !

The look Violet decided to sport was unusual for the image she sought to put on display. Her eyes were encircled with dark eyeliner, a sanguine shade of red over top lids and a lipstick to match. Raven hair melded into the black clothes draped onto her form.

In all truthfulness, her appearance teetered on the precipice of comical. At least by her own standards. However, if she were to put in even a modicum of effort into a task, it would be for the sake of a friend. A young man under the pseudonym of Chariot happened to be one of them.

Similar to any aspect of her recent daily life within the Seoul Hive, she tackled her goal like a video game quest. The change of outfit was a change in attributes. Less How To Be A Heartbreaker, more Raining Blood. The addition of fifty points to her intimidate skill. There had been a rightful purpose for it, of course. That being she intended to frighten the sorry sap who made the mistake of being outright unpleasant to Chariot in the days prior. Capable of taking care of himself, but she felt an inexplicable desire to protect him from the negative environment the Initiative fostered.

“What’s up, Chariot. Remember that guy giving you a hard time yesterday?” Her backside bounced against the cushion she threw herself on. The following statement was prefaced by a hearty sip of the beverage in her hand. “He won’t be bothering you anymore. I had a little talk with him!”

Had she dressed in gothic attire to intimidate a potential bully? Perhaps. Had she gone further than a mere appearance and “conversation”? That was up for debate.

[blckchariot-blog]

late to the party whoop

heyo i’m haru and i’m here with m’boi, chariot! a cerulean fluff with some…memory issues. you may or not recognize him from the first run of the rp but he’s back with like…one or two minor changes thaaaat i’ll list below—but first, his pages:

profile / stats

and please like this post if you’d like to plot! 

Keep reading

[blckchariot-blog]

late to the party whoop

heyo i’m haru and i’m here with m’boi, chariot! a cerulean fluff with some...memory issues. you may or not recognize him from the first run of the rp but he’s back with like...one or two minor changes thaaaat i’ll list below—but first, his pages:

profile / stats

and please like this post if you’d like to plot! 

as stated above, is in cerulean

generally hates the games and is against violence

which is awfully bold of him to say when he kills people left and right but he says its in self defence :/

was abducted fairly recently (in the last few months)

two main things have changed since the last run which are:

he now has an older sister (@/blckvon) and a younger sister (oc, jang wonyoung fc)

and he’s less of a coward than before

still kinda wimpy with a conscience but is more willing to survive now

that being said: no one is supposed to know about him and von being siblings, they’ve decided to keep it a secret

and he misses his younger sis a lot :(

but anyways yeah he’s generally a friendly and nice guy! 

though wary of the potential crazies in this place so forgive him for not being very trusting

owns two cats (hana, miro) that he posts about on elev8 a lot

is pretty athletic and likes swimming

i can’t think of anything else rn but i’ll list some plot ideas below!

please...please give him some friends that’re not bloodthirsty

but also please try to frighten him if ur muse is crazy (though he’s probably not gonna cower cos he...y’know...just ignores them most of the time)

fellow ceruleans,,,gamers rise up

you’ve teamed up in a mission before and you meshed well together 

or on the other end, you were enemies and have fought before in missions and you hold a grudge (chariot just wants to Leave)

potential crush plots? you’re interested in chariot but he’s just “??? excuse me i’m trying not to die here?????”

idk i’m up for most plots so just hit me!

[blckchariot-blog]

—black miasma.

                                      “may you escape this WRETCHED world.”

[ tw: drowning, blood, violence mention, guns, death ]

     there’s water in his lungs.

    his body reacts faster than his brain, limbs scrambling to claw their way to the surface. he sure as hell didn’t get enough air in him before being plunged into the lake, not that he’s surprised anymore. they know he can’t technically drown, and watching him panic and choke was just part of their sick entertainment. 

    of all of the ways to abuse virtual reality.

    chariot coughs out droplets of water, dry heaving as air finally finds its way back into his lungs. he would’ve felt thankful if not for the bullet that whizzes past his head right after. 

    “fuc—” he doesn’t get to finish before his teammate yanks him back down into the lake by the foot. he’s aware enough of his surroundings now, though, that he swims after the three already making their way across the shoreline. out of the corner of his eye, he spots the man that had saved him, and spares a small nod of thanks.

    a rain of bullets comes down just behind him, and he doesn’t even entertain the thought of what would’ve happened if he had stayed. 

    “—ou’re kidding me, right?” is the first thing chariot hears when he surfaces. the girl frowns at him when he makes his presence known. “you! you almost got us all killed!”

    “i—” chariot doesn’t get time to reply, one of the other candidates hissing out a loud shush.

    a searchlight shines through the reeds just up the hill, and the group fall into silence. 

    it’s only when darkness settles upon them that someone speaks up.

    “we all heard the rules, right?” one of the older-looking candidates (chariot vaguely remembers his name being d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞) mumbles solemnly. “we’re all here because we volunteered so i don’t want to hear any complaints.”

    “i didn’t know it was going to be like this!” the girl from early pipes up, holding her fists clenched up against her side. “i just wanted some easy points! i didn’t know it was going to end up like this—”

    “b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢, shush!” the only other girl whispers harshly. she’s shorter than all of them, but chariot knows well enough to not underestimate the small ones.

    “this wasn’t what you told me, h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸,” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ growls back, taking a step closer to the girl. “you said this was going to be an easy mission. we already almost failed because of—” she turns to glare at chariot. “—that guy. i fucking hate newbies.”

    h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸ doesn’t reply, instead letting out a sigh and ignoring chariot altogether. 

    “hey, mister—you have a plan right? since you acted so leader-y about it,” she addresses d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞ with a tone of mockery in her voice. 

    d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞ sighs and shakes his head. “no. i just wanted you whiny brats to shut the fuck up.”

    “what the fuck did you call—” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ starts off, but h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸ holds her back.

    “so who has a plan, then? considering we only have seven hours to pull this off,” h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸ grumbles in annoyance. 

    a blanket of silence falls upon them and after a few very long seconds, chariot opens his mouth to speak up, but a foreign voice interrupts him.

    “i have an idea,” the source comes from behind him, and a quick look tells chariot that this is the man that had saved him earlier. “but i need to know everyone’s weapons first.”

    “who the fuck even are you?” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ scowls, striding up to the lanky man. “i didn’t even notice you back in the simulation room. talk about having no presence.”

    the man doesn’t flinch, but instead brushes a wet strand of hair off his forehead. “you can call me wolf,” he answers, but now with an expectant look on his face. 

    “oh, i...erm,” chariot starts off upon realizing what wolf was waiting for. “i have a gun—a rifle, to be more precise. it turns into a long-ranged one in my second state. like a sniper.”

    wolf gives him a nod, and turns to the others.

    “i have brass knuckles,” d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞ is the next to answer. “yeah, i realize how dumb it is that my weapon isn’t a dagger. move on.”

    b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ snickers in the background.

    “they turn into claws. i also have quite a bit of combat experience,” d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞ adds on. chariot isn’t at all surprised—the man’s built like a tank.

    “i have some kinda wire,” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ looks unimpressed with herself. “lights up with electricity when i do that god mode thing.”

    “and i have hammers that get heavier when i go into second state,” h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸ finishes off. “i don’t do well in it, thought.”

    “that’s fine,” wolf mumbles out, looking deep in thought. “we’re a bit low on mid-range, but i can work around that.”

    “ah, what’s your weapon, then?” chariot frowns, though intrigued by the man. 

    “bombs.”

    well, that certainly doesn’t bring up any good memories.

    “what...what kind of bombs?” chariot forces himself to not overreact. 

    wolf gives him a pointed look, as if annoyed at his disturbance. “smoke, poison, frag— also flashbangs if need be.”

    “oh, that’s useful,” chariot replies. he wants to ask about his god mode, but wolf is clearly not interested in talking anymore. 

    what a mess he’s gotten himself into.

    chariot lets out a sigh as he squats down by the lake, attempting to peek through the reeds to spot out the camp. to no avail, though, as they had swam quite a ways.

    “well? what’s the plan then, smartass?” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ makes a scene of her impatience, rolling her eyes with arms crossed. “we don’t have all night.”

    wolf stays silent, deep in thought.

    “urgh,” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ instead turns her attention to chariot. “how new are you, even? what faction? haven’t seen you around.”

    “i arrived a little over a month ago...” chariot frowns at her queries. “and i’m from cerulean.”

    “hah. makes sense then,” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ snorts, turning to h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸. “typical cerulean, amirite?”

    h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸ nods.

    part of chariot wants to argue back, but he reminds himself that this isn’t the time or place. 

    “ah, got it,” wolf finally speaks up again (to chariot’s relief). “there’s a way to do this with the best chance of success we can get. especially with one of us injured.”

    it takes a moment for chariot to process his words.

    “i’m fine,” d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞ grunts, holding a hand over his upper thigh. chariot finally notices it’s sticky with blood. “nothing i haven’t gone through before.”

    “still, it’s a detriment,” wolf states matter-of-factly. “we have to account for everything.”

    “just get on with the plan! the geezer said he’s fine,” b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ grumbles, running her hand through her (ironically) brown hair.

    “yeah,” wolf hums in agreement. “you all will have to trust me on this, though, or it’s not going to work.”

    everyone takes turns nodding, though some more hesitant than the others. chariot wastes no time, but as expected, the girls both take their sweet time. he’s long since noticed b̶̶͢͡͞l̛͝҉o̢̨̕͞͞n̨͟d̡̧͘͢ì̛͏̸e̕͢͢ listens to h̨̢́͟ȩ҉a͘͘͠͡ŕt͏̸, even if she pretends to be the one in charge. d͏̷̛̕a̷͜͜͡͡g҉̴͡҉g͜͠e̴҉̸͢r͘͞ had been distracted with binding up his wound with the sleeve to his shirt. he’s done this before, chariot notes. must’ve been that training he talked about.

watch out for that one.

    once satisfied with the turnout, wolf starts speaking again—

    but the thing is, chariot doesn’t have the best memory. 

    that, or something stops him from remembering. he thinks it might’ve been the drugs, but maybe, just maybe, he’s forgetting on purpose. 

    but just what is he forgetting? why is he so S̵̡̨͢͠Ć̨͠A̶̕R̷̡Ȩ̶͡҉D̷̴͘͜͟?

    the next thing chariot knows, he’s ducking behind a shipping crate with bullets bouncing off the thick metal, ringing loud in his ears. how did they spot him? he was supposed to...

    what was he supposed to do again?

    “go!” he hears the others call out from behind him and he barely gets a word it before they sprint off into all directions, drawing fire away from him.

    well, he can put the pieces together, at least. 

    a quick activation of god mode helps him scale the first level of containers all while sneaking around using the second as cover. he finds an unlit spot and blends into the shadows, only the golden glint of his gun visible as he turns the corner to fire.

    one, two, three down. chariot controls his breathing the best he can as he blows the head off the fourth. it’s getting harder now, the guards hidden behind cover and his teammates out of sight. all he can do now is relocate and wait for their signal.

    he hopes he can recognize it when it happens.

    his head Ḩ̵͠Ú̶̸̷͠R̢T̡̛͏̕Ş͜͟.

    chariot collapses against a tree, clutching desperately at his hair as if tugging on the strands would somehow relieve it. he’s near the extraction point, somehow having crawled there through blood and guts even with his brain feeling like it’s about to explode. did they somehow mess up the dose? calibrated his VR set wrong? he feels the floor tremble beneath him, and it takes him a few seconds more to realize that it had come from the campsite. 

    everything is in flames.

    the shockwave sends the flora around him flying, waving wildly in the wind as he holds a hand up to his face in reaction. what the hell just happened.

    “you coming?” comes a familiar voice from just down the road, and chariot swings around, gun poised and ready to shoot.

    “what did you do?” he finds the smell of gunpowder overwhelming.

    wolf simply stares at him, a squint in his eyes. “what does it matter?” he holds the case up and flourishes it for chariot to see. “i got the diamonds. let’s go.”

    “but...” chariot lowers his gun the slightest, looking around. “where are the others?”

    “i blew them up with the rest of the guards.”

    “what?!” 

    wolf lowers his hand and turns away from him, walking down the path to the rendezvous point. “it’s just a simulation, anyway. they’ll understand.”

    chariot struggles not to panic. “but they still feel the sensation of dying—did they know?”

    “of course not. who in the right mind would agree to dying?”

    “then—”

    “oh, you don’t get to complain,” wolf seems to finally snap. “you were in on the plan, weren’t you?”

    fuck this HEADACHE.

( "hey͜,́ ͟c͏hario͡t́.͟"́ ͜"̛yea̶h?"̢ ̶ "t͟h̸ere'͏s̷ ǹo͞ way ͝w̶e're̸ g͘oi̧n͞g̛ ̨t̷o ͜ge͠t out͢ ҉óf̨ t͜here͟ ͘al̸i͠v̡e with ҉j̷u̸st us f͡iv̧ę.͝ ̴th̷er̶ę's ̧too m͡a̧ny̕ ͝gu̢a͞rd̶s.̧" ̢"h͢u̴h̨? t̷he̴n—͜"̷ ̸"̕i'͟m̀ goi͜ng ̶t̀o͏ c҉au͝s͡e̶ a d̛is̕t͠r͝act̀io̕n̢.͡"͞ ͟"o͝kay...͠b̸ųt how̡?" "͠well—͡.͜.̧.̢" )

    it’s just a simulation. just a simulation. he isn’t guilty. he hasn’t killed anybody. he hasn’t betrayed anybody, let them die, watched them die. he hasn’t done anything.

    it’s the only thing keeping him from going insane.

( but what happens when it all becomes REAL?) 

< CONGRATULATIONS_ON_SURVIVING_! >

[ b-level mission: collection — complete ]

[blckchariot-blog]

—primed dash.

                                                                  “let the WIND carry you.”

[ tw: n/a ]

    "ah, so we’ve had technology like this all along.”

     chariot laughs almost bitterly as the flash of white finally starts fading away. his surroundings look too real—and in fact, feel too real. he looks down at his hand and flexes it, clenching his fist, wriggling his fingers. he feels like something should be off, maybe being not as sensitive or his joints feeling more janky, but no. everything feels just as it does in real life, and he’s not sure if that amazes him more than freaks him out.

    that voice or...whatever it was in the back of his head was really getting on his nerves, though. its robotic tone mixed with a fake-sounding chipper voice—it reminds him of those ads on tv. what was it...two washing machines for only 500,000 won? what a fake deal—though he remembers seriously considering it for his place back when he was attending university. not that he ever figured out what he would’ve done with the second one, anyway.

    chariot finally looks down at his wristband in annoyance, snapped out of his questionably fond memories by the harsh reality of...virtual reality. what was this thing, anyways? 

    and, of course, the all-knowing voice explains to him soon after. what could he ever do without it. 

    “i just have to get there?” it all seems too easy, even for an e-level mission. doesn’t sound fun enough for the collective, he sneers internally, and is soon proved right by the following instructions. 

    “taggers. of course,” chariot breathes out, his heart getting a jump start the moment the concept of a chase pops into his mind. it shouldn’t be too hard—it didn’t say anything about the taggers fighting back. chariot can only assume all he had to do was avoid touching them. easy enough, right?

it’s all just a simulation, anyway.

    he blinks once and takes a step, his cylinder clutched at his side. another step of progress is made and chariot almost, almost thinks it too easy, when he feels a small pat on his back. the next thing he knows, he’s a meter back, where he had started.

    “what the hell?” is all that comes out of his mouth before his weapon transforms instinctively. the rifle materializes in his hands just quickly enough to block the woman that had snuck up behind him. chariot swallows nervously as he stares into her emotionless face. 

    “sorry, lady!” he yells as he shoves her back with his gun, realizing just how silly it was that he apologized to an a.i, but he doesn’t dwell on the thought. 

    taggers start coming at him from all angles, and what they lack in speed and agility, they make up for in numbers. chariot ducks and weaves through them with relative ease, coming close only a few times. this wasn’t too hard, he thinks to himself.

    his stamina is at its end when he finally closes in on the target location, and to his despair, he sees an abundance of taggers surrounding the point. he could try sneaking past them, but was he really going to risk having to start all over again? he’s come so far.

    he knows. he knows the voice in the back of his head wants him to kill, and truth be told, it would be easy to wipe them all out right there and then, but...

it’s still just a simulation, isn’t it?

    he wouldn’t really be killing anyone—he should...he can just do it, right?

    the thought lingers in his head for a moment too long and the taggers finally spot him. they make a dash for where he’s standing, and chariot’s left with only one choice.

mow them down.

    DING!

[ e-level mission: helios — complete ]

[blckchariot-blog]

—plastic guns.

                                                     “RUNNING won’t help anymore.”

[ tw: death, blood ]

    his head was spinning, body aching from the trials that spanned the last few days…? weeks? he can’t tell anymore. day and night were arbitrary words at this point, his sleep controlled only by whichever cruel bastard was making him do this. he was fit enough to run the trials, but nothing could’ve prepared him mentally. those people he met along the way—they’re gone now. his “batch” seemed to be a particularly unlucky one.

    he could only hope his sister was okay.

    they had been separated somewhere along the way, and he hasn’t been able to focus since. she was the only link he had left to the normal world, her presence the only thing grounding him and keeping him sane. yet somehow, he feels oddly calm now that’s he’s alone again. 

    the sight of her in the crowd of screaming participants had knocked the wind out of him. a sense of relief at there being a familiar face, yet a growing weight of guilt and fear of her even being here to begin with. how did they both end up in this situation? they wouldn’t have taken dahlia too...would they? 

    as much as it pains him to admit, daniel silently thanks whatever cruel god was up there for having spared his younger sister, at least. him and daisy could hold their own—but sweet little dahlia? there was no way.

    at least he finds daisy to hold the same opinion as they managed to talk within the few moments of calm they had. the first thing she done was yell at him to not call her her name, and instead address her as von. what a novel name, daniel would’ve thought if not for the fear in her eyes. she asks him what he had entered for his name, and he mutters out “chariot”.

    they had pretended to be strangers for the rest of the initiation up till their separation. now daniel simply holds his hands to his chest in a silent prayer, begging for his sister’s safety. not that he wants her to stay in this hell any longer, but he wouldn’t know what to do without her. he didn’t want to face this alone. he’s never been this alone.

    the knockout blow came almost as a relief, the adrenaline had been messing with his head. those friends he had made in the short hours without dais—... von, had all died. he had promised to stick together, to work things out so no one had to fall, but when it came down to it, he froze. he could’ve saved someone, anyone, but his instinct screamed at him to run, to leave them behind so he, alone, could live on—

    and he did.

oh, did he HATE himself for it.

    naively, he thought he had managed to escape the gaping maw of guilt and betrayal. that he wouldn’t have to see death anymore, that it was all over. 

    the door in front of him—perhaps this was just going to be another questionnaire? yes, those were always fun. a weak and desperate laugh escapes his lips as he pushes the door open. as he enters, his foot collides with something and ends up kicking it halfway across the room. he tries blinking away the spots in his vision, attempting to make out the blurry silhouette of a person seated in the middle of the room. he walks up to where he had kicked the item and bends down to retrieve it,

    only to have it clatter back down on the ground.

    just one look at the situation told him enough—he knew what they wanted him to do. with his own hands, they wanted him to end a person’s life.

    he’s only ever held plastic guns, the ones you used at arcades to shoot down zombies on the screen. 

it’s so DIFFERENT.

    real firearms were so heavy. the distinctive cold of metal—this isn’t a toy, but it fits so well in his hand—too well, in fact. he can’t tell if it’s some sort of sign, or if he really is just losing it.

    but perhaps those very delusions carry him through it—since, is it really a sin to want to live? it’s basic human nature to want to survive, right?

    it really is something else to end a life with your own hands. 

    his trembling fingers uncurl from the gun, his breathing heavy and ragged. he reaches up to touch the specks of red splattered across his face. the smell of gunpowder burns his throat as he struggles to keep bile down. 

    he killed someone. he killed someone. kang daniel is a MURDERER.

    the sound of the gun hitting the floor is followed by a buzzing noise. daniel spares no time in running out of the door, desperate to leave the room behind. he doesn’t want to think about it more, he doesn’t want to admit his guilt. 

    all he wanted to do was live, but no amount of apologies were going to make up for it. there’s nothing he can do to repent for the lives he’s taken. 

     he’s scared. so, so scared. terrified. he wants to leave, curl up in a ball and cry, something other than this. anything. why couldn’t they have just left him alone? what had he done to deserve this?

what SIN had he committed?

[blckchariot-blog]

[blckchariot-blog]

I shot to your heart

[blckchariot-blog]

daniel / boomerang

[blckchariot-blog]

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