fredmustdie

[fredmustdie]

lev volkov.

who: open [ @c23starters​ ] where: ???

“Have you got a light?” Lev asked, doing his best not to sound like he was lurking for nefarious reasons. There were only so many reasons to be standing around in an alley at night though, so good thing he smoked. 

“a light? for sure,” their wide smile sat a little too large on their features. what was the word they loved to use; uncanny? they didn’t smoke, they hated the way nicotine felt in their lungs, but they lean in and reach out with supple fingers to snap—poof, a ghostly little flame at the crux of their two digits, “how’s this?”

[fredmustdie]

alfred hwang is a gamma mutant with the ability of cryptid physiology. they’ve been in new york for twelve years where they spend most of their time as a fraud clairvoyant. when i think of them, i think of glittering eyes in the shadows, disappearing out of thin air, whispering secrets into the wind. they are affiliated with the brotherhood. || (kim woobin, twenty-nine, agender, any) 

@c23intros

  identity 

full name: alfred rubin hwang. nicknames: alfie, freddie, cheshire. birthday: 01/01/1969, a standardised date afforded to him due to it not being clear on his exact birthday. age: twenty-nine. zodiac: capricorn. ethnicity: korean. nationality: american. gender: agender. pronouns: any.

  society.

occupation: clairvoyant, fortune-teller, mystic, ect. education: high-school equivalent languages: english, probably others. hometown: washington, dc. qualifications: bachelors in bastardry. (none.)

  physical.

build: tall, muscled and lean. height: six foot five. eye colour: blue (left), brown (right)

  details 

notable: fanged, antlered, has small wings that do not aid their flight, pointed elf-like ears, hundreds of bioluminescent freckles, and the tail of a hare.  scars: none. scent: autumn leaves, burning wood.

  biography.

as most unsightly things are, freddie was discarded shortly after birth and found home in a situation that might’ve passed him by were it not for his appearance. fanged, antlered, with a small pair of fluttery wings and the tail of a hare, they may have fallen victim to an early death, had their capabilities not been understood early.

there was nothing to them, they floated easily through wall and ceiling, survived purely by pilfering until found by the SEEKER. another mutant, with the ability to detect powers and their potential intensity, who wordlessly guided the child to a place where their absence would be beneficial. 

they were treated as a breathing wire-tap, they spent their childhood unseen and unheard in places where the information was the richest. learning to write and recount secrets before they could even write their name. and the forms—there were so many reflections to pick from, but even after years of practice freddie’s heterochromia always remained. 

he kills for the first time as a thirteen year old, pushing off from the wall like an olympic swimmer and diving through the bodies of three men, emerging on the other side with their hearts in hand. it did not feel wrong, people lived and they died, what did it matter the means when the end was always the same?

that ambivalence, disregard for human life, it puts them on probationary leave from his duties when he is sixteen. for over a year they remain on the compound, biding time, caching whispers, and they become so good at lying, at luring, they mislead prey into their clutches to satiate that insipid little hunger to see nothing staring back at him. blank eyes–no fear, pure oblivion.

they leave of their own accord when they are seventeen. what is there to stop him? walls are of no consequence, distance is of no consequence, form is of no consequence. they chase the scent of blood, the clouds preceding a storm—war, in new york city. 

was he a mutant? he was certainly not human. they have not discovered what they are—their true nature, perhaps eternally, is cryptic even to them. he chooses the side with the most to lose, he loves to see underdogs succeed.

[fredmustdie]

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals

[fredmustdie]

noah sanouk.

location: up to you ! assuming it’s somewhere reasonable participants: noah sanouk & open ( @c23starters​ )

“it’s just so weird being back,” noah admitted with a sigh as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the railing in front of him. “like it just doesn’t feel the same,” he continued speaking, though his voice had dropped to more of a whisper at this point. it was clear he was struggling with something not just his inability to form words. 

it takes a concerted amount of effort to not reach out and push! push! push! the figure leaning so precariously at the rail, but alfred manages it—barely, “your memories all skewed,” a wild guess, he’d become so good at bullshitting with his profession that the prying little lies were just as earnest as the unfortunate, big truths, “maybe it’s not the city that’s different, it’s you?”

[fredmustdie]

ready, freddie?

@c23tasks