indolamine

[indolamine]

I don't wanna love you

[indolamine]

zoom, with @sparedpart

jiyeon finishes combing her hair after what feels like hours, massaging oil onto the ends hurriedly, eager to be done. she tosses it back and lets it settle in an uneven side part, feeling like fruit picked fresh off the branch. the sink is lined with an abridged replica of her beauty shelf at home, which she gathers back into the little green bag in the third drawer, removing all traces of her from view save for the wet towel awkwardly bunched up over the wall hanger. the fog had cleared from the mirror by then, letting her give the results of her effort a quick check before she leaves.

she doesn’t know the exact time, but it’s early morning and the house seems to finally have emptied out, only fossils of what was supposed to be a casual gathering littering the surfaces of the rooms where wonshik had entertained his guests. it’s bright and quiet and still, all opposites of what jiyeon’s accustomed to in his company, and she feels small navigating from room to room. but it’d be wrong for a movie star’s mansion not to feel imposing and foreign, it’s the whole point.

when jiyeon finally finds him, she can’t tell if wonshik is asleep or drunk still or an unknowable third option, sprawled over a couch, until he turns his head to her as she takes a sit across from him. she smiles, running fingers over her hair. “shower’s done. thank you, i needed it.”

she rests her chin on the ball of her hand, looks across the room before back at him. the hoodie draped over her body is his, and the intimacy of that is something she finds easy to overlook even though it feels new and tender. “are you hungry?” she tips her head in question, touching the leg of the coffee table with her toes, pushing gently. “or would you rather go to bed? i can go home, you know.”

[indolamine]

@serialeclipse

"skipping, er, smoothies and synk?" domi asks, her tone a clear indication of which side she's on about this whole thing. she makes her way over to where the stranger's sitting, less navigating through the mess of tree roots and more tripping over as many of them as they'd like her to. lands, finally, on a dry patch of grass that's good for sitting, and decides it's as good a spot as any. "i won't bother you much, if you don't mind a second person here!"

jiyeon turns to look when the newcomer addresses her. she’d noticed her approach, it’s hard not to be heard when every third step finds a crackling dry leaf or loose branch, but she’d steeled herself in expectation, waiting to be greeted by one of the retreat guides coming to escort her back to the meeting. when she watches another girl tumble across the clearing instead, she relaxes, trying a polite smile before her face can betray her hesitation.

“i don’t have another meditation session in me,” she says, not without some relief. it’s nice not having to entertain yet another excitable enthusiast who she’d both hate and envy for having a more enjoyable time than her. “i’d rather another hike, at least we’re doing something on those.”

a trail of ants make their way a little to the left of her shoes, a long line of tiny black dots scurrying along over the gravel, some carry pieces of leaves on their backs. she watches them work for a while, not entirely unimpressed by the attention to detail but wondering to what extent they’re necessary, why anyone would bother. it’s the sort of thing that unchains a train of thought about the futility of the whole thing – the ants, the retreat, terra, life. so maybe the whole experience isn’t proving terribly effective. if they didn’t want her to think about dying, they shouldn’t make it sound like the better alternative throughout the whole trip.

“it’s a big enough forest,” jiyeon replies with a shrug, reaching into her jacket’s pocket. “as long as you don’t mind me smoking,” she adds. they’re not supposed to, even though it doesn’t make any real difference. it’s an aesthetic thing, like every other rule they set. she offers her newfound companion the pack after she pulls out a cigarette for herself, holding her outstretched arm towards her in silent question.

[indolamine]

l'inconnue, with @fiskesprett

tw: little mention of body issues

he’s sorely visible from her balcony view. an island of a person, astray among the languid bodies floating effortlessly around him, unrelenting and indifferent to his searching eyes. she watches him look out towards the pool when the guy next to him walks out apparently mid conversation, but he probably wouldn’t be able to notice the floral mosaic of the tiles warping beneath the water surface like she can from her angle. it amuses her how he makes the contrast between the muted terracotta and the shimmering cyan look starker than the golden wash of an afternoon sun could.

jiyeon takes a long drag of her cigarette before putting it out halfway through on a heavily used ashtray sat precariously on the marble railing of the balcony, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head as she walks back into the room. her friend stirs on the bed when she opens the top drawer of the dresser, so she makes a quick, quiet job of fishing out the pack of cigarettes. when she catches her reflection in the mirror, she looks for a few seconds too long. she turns and rests her weight on a single foot, angling her head to watch how her hair drapes over her shoulders, then dragging her eyes across the curve of her body and readjusting the strap of her bikini over her ribs. whenever she thinks she’s satisfied, she has to keep searching. her fingers ghost over the flat of her stomach for just a moment, as though feeling for something she can’t see, until they pause. she takes a new cigarette and leaves.

the swelling synth of a house base greets her downstairs, some guys dancing on one another in the living room seem fun, but she heads towards the pool anyway. maybe daytime parties are no longer her speed, either they’re getting old for her or it’s the other way around. it should be a depressing thought, but she feels vaguely profound as it crosses her mind – a moment of sobriety so refreshing it's cool to the touch. even a sign of maturity, if she's hopeful.

he’s still there, sticking out even more when she can see the dejected boredom from up close. jiyeon is armed with microscope and scalp to investigate an anomaly, but she can still feel sympathy. she holds the cigarette out between her fingers in a gesture when she approaches. “got a light?”

[indolamine]

chiaroscuro, with @moonsnitch

haerin sits across from her, all dewy skin and perfect hair, like she’s walked fresh out of one of her ads. jiyeon now recalls seeing a few of them around terra, the ones in which she poses with colossal ivory wings adorning her frame next to a logo that is always placed oddly in the picture, clashing with her cherubic serenity. she might as well be donning those wings now. jiyeon reminds herself to glance away and takes a sip of her iced tea, suddenly aware of the awkward waves of the lock of hair she fixes behind her ear.

in their seating arrangement, haerin benefits from the shade of the tiny parasol perched over their table. it’s just warm enough to threaten becoming inconvenient as terra edges towards summer, and the sun shines on jiyeon’s nape as she folds her arms over crossed legs. she has no idea what a famed iron fist player might want to do with her, but curiosity will take her to the end of the world.

the previous night, she had read the messages over and over before agreeing to meet her in the beyond park, and then once again after learning all there was to know about choi haerin on a quick terrascape summary. it jolted a cloudy memory of looking her up years ago, only to find much less information to contrast against the pile of memos clogging her panel. she had thought it’s really a small world after all, until she thought again and considered – briefly – that the secretive tone might imply more than coincidence.

“i was surprised to hear from you, but then again, i imagine anyone would,” jiyeon says after the hellos and further pleasantries are out of the way. she lets a small pause roll, adjusting her sunglasses on her nose bridge. “what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

[indolamine]

touch some grass, with @serialeclipse

it’s a sickeningly beautiful day. sunlight, filtered through exuberant palm tree crowns, shines on her feet, the bloom effect blurring them beautifully against the dark wood flooring of the walkway. the distant chatter is almost fully drowned in the orchestra of warbling birds, their flight ruffling the tropical trees enclosing the passage from every direction. beyond them, running water echoes through the foliage in luscious detail.

jiyeon imagines her own black clad figure as an intrusion on the idyllic scenery, hat pulled low over her eyes and jacket peeling off slumped shoulders. when she closes her eyes, she ignores the chirping and the ruffling leaves, focuses instead on the quiet thudding of the soles of her sandals dragging over the wood boards.

right now, jiyeon’s supposed to reunite with her group back in the main lodge for green smoothies and a mindful activity designed to connect her to her surroundings and inspire the realization of her active role in the ecosystem of an infinite binary code system. and to be fair, that would not be entirely repulsive to her on a good day. she’s not offended by inanity and vapidness – she’d argue that’s the environment she typically thrives in.

but good days have been running scarce. it’s why she agreed to come to the retreat at her therapist’s suggestion in the first place, and the counterintuitiveness of that decision only dawns on her when she’s pulled into conversations about the power of self love. after struggling to elaborate on the transformative experience of sunrise yoga for the fifth time by the end of the first day, jiyeon is at her most antisocial. she fixates on every little annoying affectation of speech, every unflattering cosmetic update, counting the times they repeat self aggrandizing anecdotes.

so right now, jiyeon can only bring herself to put one foot in front of the other and not stop. she might hole herself in her lodge for the rest of the vacation if she stops moving. the birds are singing, the trees are rustling, the water is trickling, and jiyeon feels miserable. that’s the new itinerary for the day.

[indolamine]

hey y'all 🤍 here's a link for INFO on jiyeon, but i'll include some bullet points here with all you need to know. in case anything here sparks ideas for your muse and you'd like to work on a plot, hmu. i do prefer dscrd, so don't hesitate to ask. oh and i'd appreciate it if you could shoot me a dm first so my account doesn't get banned trying to touch base with the likes (say literally anything, hit me with a send it to me rachel if you'd be so kind). still, if you'd rather just hit like it's fine, i'll reach out once tumblr allows me!

jiyeon is what you'd call an Interesting Girl. someone you don't call or arrange schedules with, just happen upon. someone who never calls you but can be your best friend between 11pm and 3am. a fun girl, you just don't look too long.

both her parents are dead for all intents and purposes, which's proven to be a very character defining event in her life. one of her fathers passed away before she was even code, and the other chose to virtually die to work as a doctor for terrascape when she turned 18.

as single beneficiary to both her fathers, jiyeon found herself young, alone and newly rich. she's not particularly self destructive, but choices were made. luckily? for the most part, she was too stunned by grief and anger to blow away her fortune, which now affords her a cushy life she doesn't dwell too hard on.

she's emotionally stunted, still reliving the loss of her parents somewhere in her mind at every moment. she knows a lot of people, calls them friends but struggles to connect with them, blinking in and out of their lives. death is a constant thought, not quite a morbid fascination but more of a haunting. she knows, poor little rich girl.

she writes -- tries to, anyway. she's got some essays published, wrote for a column for a hot minute, it's her definitive trade of choice. but, and not to get too meta, the thing about writing is that you do have to write. that's the tricky part. merits were a good incentive, though once they're no longer an issue, she finds herself ignoring deadlines and putting off work on the novel she's been writing for the past 4 years. she instead "gathers experiences". she has many talents that she has no interest in seriously exploring, so she entertains herself while the high lasts.

between her writing and her party girl fame, at some point along the way she amassed a following on social media that she hesitates to cut loose. they make her more interesting than she, merely human, could ever hope to be, and she doesn't know how to kill the part of her that answers to their call. it's a lie when she says she doesn't look at what they say.

adult life for her breezes by in parties with half-friends and long bouts of reclusion. she wants to be a little of everything. she enjoys reading, skiing, playing silly little meta indie games about living in hyper realities. she doesn't commit to romantic relationships, yet enjoys the hunt anyway. she takes her time, and it never seems to align with anyone else's.

& here's a rolling list of canons that could also serve as potential connections for anyone interested, will add more as they come to me:

she once got involved with a couple for some brief months and it didn't end well

one of the few things she gets competitive about is skiing

she's fucked someone's significant other purely out of spite

she has a writing group whose meetings she misses often but she isn't the only one so she feels like it's a safe space

the person she plays a random weird rpg with incognito is maybe the most consistent relationship in her life, their chats can get very personal and strange and they can go weeks on no contact but go right back to where they left off

the events surrounding gyuok pique her interest because it's the first time terra residents could potentially be hearing from a virtually deceased and because he's essentially a virtual ghost which she thinks is neat

one of her published essays focuses on a celebrity she knows personally and doesn't portray them in the best light, which soured their relationship

[indolamine]

café grumpy

[indolamine]