jeonggukxmi - Tumblr blog

[jeonggukxmi]

helllloooo everyone, so this comes with some sadness, but i’m going to be dropping jeongguk. i’m so sorry to anyone that was having fun threading with him. i’ve just had a complete loss of direction for him and no ideas on how to properly develop him and lead him down a path that’s fun to explore, and that’s left it pretty difficult to write for him for a long time now. it just seemed like it was finally time, as i’ve considered this for a while and i don’t think there’s any use putting it off anymore. he still will hold a place in my heart and will stay on my mind, and if i can think of ways to make him fun again, he may return! in the meantime, he’ll stay in myeongcho as a hacker for the mpd, and if any mpd people want to use him as an npc for anything just hmu and i’d be happy to still plot with you even if we can’t thread!

all of that being said, i’ll still be around on jihoon and seungwoo, so you aren’t rid of me yet <3 thanks so much for all of the love jeongguk has received in the past year, i appreciate it so much. love you all!!

[jeonggukxmi]

miseokjin‌:

— @jeonggukxmi​

to say that jeongguk makes him kinda nervous is a big understatement. but he needs the files, so he has to talk to him from time to time. but this time, he has a plan. there’s a cup of coffee in his left and a note with information in his right hand as he knocks against the door that leads to his office. he waits for the regular ‘come in’ and enters the room, trying to open the door without dropping the coffee or crushing the note.

“hey, jeongguk, i’m here for the files i asked you about. and i also found this note about special information i need, so if you could get it done before friday, i’d be really thankful. no pressure, though.” he places the note on his table, chews on his bottom lip for a few seconds and coughs slightly.

“i also brought you a cup of coffee-”

that’s when it drops. the fresh, hot coffee gets spilled all over his crotch and legs.

f

u

c

k.

“oh god, i’m so sorry, are you- are you alright?”

jeongguk doesn’t mind interruptions as much as he once did. he used to be a jeongguk of harsh works, misanthropy and distaste. he still prefers to work undisturbed, of course, but he doesn’t hate his coworkers like he once did. then again, vanguard and the mpd are very different; he doesn’t know if the environment changing is what made it different, or it’s just him that’s different. maybe finding happiness, even for a little while, still stayed with him now, making him a more pleasant person.

needless to say, seokjin isn’t entirely unwelcome when he makes himself known. “hello,” he greets him back. he did have his files ready, so he expected his visit at some point anyway. “right,” he replies with a nod. he pulls out one of the doors in his dresser and shuffles around. he has them on a zip drive too, but figured it might be more helpful for seokjin to have them in actual writing-- or type, in this case, so he printed them off. jeongguk is nothing if not thorough, the opposite of a procrastinator, so of course he already has what seokjin asked for ready. he pulls out a folder, then hands it to the other man. the other information, however, he doesn’t have yet. he looks at the note, then nods once again. “got it, friday.”

he turns back to his computer, but then back to seokjin when he mentions coffee. then he feels the coffee, and it burns. he just stays still though, in shock. his jaw clenches against the pain. “it’s fine,” he says through gritted teeth. god, he better not have second degree burns. maybe he should throw water on himself too to counter the heat. “could you find me...paper towels? napkins? anything?”

❝ smile like you mean it

[jeonggukxmi]

eriskmi‌:

(&; }

quick, light steps lead her around the corner of the next isle - and she’s lucky she watches where she’s going; too quick and she wouldn’t have noticed there was someone else there, but she does. she doesn’t catch his face immediately, but she does take to notice this person with their hood up in the middle of the convenience store - and it sends her mind into a run of questions. but it’s probably nothing.

…but was that going to keep her from taking a moment to temporarily not mind her own business? no.

“excuse me? do you need help looking for something?” she dares to ask, stopping where she’s standing from a few feet away - she was by no means a good, innocent civilian - she’d be willing to help them out if they were in some sort of trouble, she supposed; but who was this exactly?

his escape isn’t successful. he probably should’ve kept walking-- should’ve walked straight out the store to never be seen again by her (hopefully.) his mind already whirred with possibilities. what would happen if she saw him? would she report him back to phoenix? would she be responsible for his true death? he knew he ran that risk when he came back to the island. he knew that by taking a position so close to the crime of it, he guaranteed himself an early trip to his grave, though that would likely be the case for anyone in myeongcho, innocent or blood-stained like jeongguk is. what is going out like this compared to any other inevitable death?

no, he wants to die honorably. he doesn’t want to die by the hand of phoenix without properly earning their wrath; he wants to take so many of them down that he dies to their rage. he doesn’t want to die like this. 

he doesn’t trust seulgi enough to believe she won’t usher him into death, so he leaves his hood up and doesn’t make eye contact. he stares straight ahead at the shelf, and grabs the snack directly in front of him. it’s not what he came for, but he isn’t bad at pretending. he’ll buy it and go home and buy the snacks he had in mind another day. maybe he’ll just sleep early, too. (maybe he’ll look into the whereabouts of more members of phoenix, if only to learn how to better avoid them.)

“i’m good,” he answers simply. “thanks.” he turns away from her then, making his way down the aisle at a leisurely pace normal for a human being, but as soon as he’s out of her line of sight he books it, not even pausing as he yanks one of the snacks he came for off the shelf as he passes. it’ll look more suspicious if he just puts everything down and runs out, despite his desire to do so. instead, he steps up to the sales counter to buy his snacks, an absolute bundle of nerves.

it must show on his face, because as the clerk rings him up, he gives him a concerned look. “is everything okay, sir?” he questions, and jeongguk gives a terse nod. he almost says i’m good again, but that might be suspicious if seulgi is listening, too. “everything’s fine,” he says instead.

&; just one yesterday }

[jeonggukxmi]

jeongguk is nervous. he wishes he had the privilege to only be nervous because he’s meeting a girl, but no; nothing is that simple in myeongcho, for one. jeongguk isn’t one for meeting people at all, so maybe that’s part of it, but worse: he’s known her for too long. he’s known her for too long, and has never met her in person, so she could be anyone.

it’s unfortunate enough that she knows his name-- even more unfortunate that if he’s entirely honest with himself, he trusts daqiao, even if just a little. he wouldn’t have agreed to meet her in person otherwise, after she finally (effortlessly) coaxed out the information of where he lives, and they found they were on this cursed island together. maybe, that’s why, instead of feeling more threatened, his need to meet her increased. if she was who she said she was-- who she appeared to be --the he didn’t know how she would survive here. she seemed too soft for a place as rough and crushing as this, and in the depths of his heart, he cared for her. he didn’t want to see this island pull her under in the same way it did him, though he was never quite as innocent.

he’ll find out soon. there are so many unknowns, and surely that is what leaves the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, anticipating-- always the worst, never anything good.

still, they arranged a meeting on one of his days working the night shift at the mpd, and he’s thankful it’s at the library if anything. it’s certainly more his scene than most anywhere else: quiet, few distractions, yet still public should there be any complications. 

he lets one of his superiors at the mpd know his whereabouts, however, and all of the crucial details about his “friend” should something go wrong and they need to find her. if i’m not back for my shift send someone out. 

maybe it’s dramatic, overpreparing, and a little paranoid, but jeongguk has never claimed to be anything else.

he steps into library on edge and alert, backpack slung over his shoulder like always whenever he comes here, more for his own sense of security than anything else-- maybe a little bit to blend in, or to pass the time if he ends up stood up here. she told him where exactly to find her, so he makes his way there and tries not to hold his breath, but he already feels like he needs some air.

he sees her then, and she does look exactly as he thought she would (he searched for anymore instances of her picture online in case she was catfishing in, but all signs pointed to something genuine. of course she would be.)

he just stands there for a while, face taut and entirely neutral, before he finally says, “hi...daqiao?”

* ░ ♡ — the only exception.

& i’ve always lived like this … keeping it comfortable — distant and up until now i had sworn to myself that i’m content with loneliness

daqiao feat. jeongguk  — @jeonggukxmi​

      the fiction section has been arranged in alphabetical order for the umpteenth time, shelves upon shelves of heavy literature neatly lined up with their spines facing outwards. it’s a hushed atmosphere punctured only by the occasional laugh from some teenagers stationed at the heart of the children’s section. the comfortable leather arm chairs have long since been abandoned and the adolescents have decided to spend the afternoon floundering from floor cushion to floor cushion. it’s enough of a disturbance to have the librarian hushing them, but it also breaks daqiao from the nervous reverie she had been in.

      she takes a step back from the shelving, blinking a few times and pushing the book in her hands back to it’s original place. she’s not an employee here, so she shouldn’t be busying herself with some monotonous task like this — but what else is she to do? she’s been here for a little over an hour already, though she’s really the only one to blame for that. she had been so nervous about being late that she’s come much too early. but being punctual was good! at least she had thought so. perhaps there was a thing as being too on the dot.

      the internal debate rages on for a few more moments before the brunette decides to check the time. it’s a little before five and she’s sure that jeongguk said he would be arriving about quarter after — time to find a table!

      daqiao heads over towards one of the areas muffled in silence, close enough to the cafe but far enough for them to have a hushed conversation. she wasn’t sure if the MYEONGCHO LIBRARY was a good choice for a first meeting place, but she had thought it was preferable compared to others. students were busy slaving away over assignments while older couples sat with coffees warm in their hands — it was comfortable, but private enough she thought he would feel more at ease. at least she hoped so. where did one take someone that they’ve never met in person before? she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and turns to rummage in her bag, second guessing her choice once more.  

      out of her knapsack comes a small whiteboard, equipped with a number of colorful pens. though she and jeongguk text often during the day, she thought that communicating with a dry erase board might be a little more exciting. something different. she mulls over what to write in greeting before she settles on a simple — hi jeongguk! — and places the board face down before she can change her mind. she smooths her hands over her skirt and her mind flits to wondering if she’s overdressed or under dressed for the occasion. geez! she thinks, furrowing her brows together, meeting someone for the first time is so stressful!

[jeonggukxmi]

miseungmin‌:

(&; }

“i was trying to watch an interview from a while back,” he explains. “but i think, for some reason,” he says as if he doesn’t know the reason, “they’ve locked the video or set it on private. and i have to watch this video for an important… project.” if he goes too specific about it, he’ll end up explaining his whole entire traumatic experience and for the sake of this stranger, he doesn’t want to burden him with that. 

jeongguk is suspicious of everything, and it applies to this situation too, perhaps especially so. the man struggling seems inexplicably guilty of something, or at least that’s how jeongguk reads it. as far as he’s concerned, however, everyone on the island is guilty of something. god knows jeongguk certainly is. despite his affiliation with the mpd, he isn’t one to hold petty crimes against someone else; despite all of the damage he’s done with his skills, he still considers hacking harmless compared to everything else that happens in myeongcho. given that this computer challenged guy is so loud, it must not be anything important, therefore even less cause for concern.

maybe jeongguk will even help, out of the goodness of his heart, depending on the story his (not) friend spins.

jeongguk’s eyes settle on the page in question, and he nods. yes indeed, that is a private video. trouble with it. that’s basically a confession in itself, as most people would just move on. “that’s a private video,” he points out, nearly a deadpan, eyes shifting from the screen back to the face of the culprit of a failed operation. his wariness probably shows on his face, but it’s not enough to turn jeongguk away. no, quite the opposite; he’s curious now.

he looks back at the screen, and the title of the video, and his eyes widen briefly in surprise. the way he says project further piques his interest, too, as well as his misgivings, but he’s entirely sure the other man is harmless, judging by his total lack of skill. “you’re doing a project on [insert seungmin’s dad’s name here because i couldn’t find it]?” his is a case long left abandoned by the mpd-- one of countless forgotten in favor of fresher ones, ones the mpd deems more important. sometimes, when jeongguk isn’t busy-- rarely, usually when he stays longer than his shift --he browses through the databases, sick with the knowledge of how many people haven’t received justice.

sometimes he thinks of their loved ones, and the answers they don’t have, and the inevitable lack of peace there. he thinks of jeonyul, and the disappearance of her murderer, and how even now, with a new lead on his whereabouts, he can’t find him. many don’t have the privilege of even knowing a face. “good luck with that one. there’s not much information out there.” he’s looked. he tried to solve it, once, and this compels him to look into it a little more.

he hasn’t seen this interview himself, always figuring information the mpd has would be better than anything the news would have, but what would it hurt, right? “move over.”

error 407

[jeonggukxmi]

mixhyunwoo‌:

(&; }

“I’m a doctor, okay?  I know what I’m doing and I know that I can save that man’s life,” he snapped right back, letting go off his jacket sleeve without a fight as the not-cop pulled away.   

“So you can either help me out and stand guard as I try to save that guy’s life… or you can go back to calling the actual cops while I try to get something done,” he threw out, knowing full well how petty it sounded but not giving a shit either way as he turned away from the man and made his way to the cash counter.

maybe he couldn’t blame the man for being disappointed. sometimes, working for the mpd still felt more like volunteer work than his actual job, despite spending hours and hours and even more overtime at the station, on his computer, chipping away at security and tracking down information on suspects and whereabouts. he didn’t doubt his usefulness in those situations, but there was a reason they didn’t send him out on the field unless they needed him to hack something on site. 

fighting robbers isn’t part of his job description. part of him feels guilty, but it’s also part of the reason why he doesn’t claim the title of officer. cop is closer, but still doesn’t feel right. he doesn’t know what title to call himself other than hacker, like he’s always been, but for now, it doesn’t matter. (he really should see if he can carry a gun though, despite his reservations in using one. it seems like a necessity in myeongcho these days-- as if he ever remembered a time it wasn’t like this.)

it turned out his companion wasn’t as stupid or useless as jeongguk originally judged him for, because he announced he was a doctor. talk about an interesting development. his thoughts churned, weighing different courses of action-- high risk and low risk, their best chance to save (and keep) as many lives as possible, and whether jeongguk wanted to put his neck on the line to be a part of it.

"it’s already done,” he informed him, because really, he did already contact the mpd. “not any more to say.” not that it mattered. he doubted the other man even cared; it seemed like he made up his mind to resent him simply because jeongguk valued his life and erred on the side of self-preservation. “fine, go then,” he muttered under his breath, and leaned up against the shelf, taking his phone out again to text a quick there’s a doctor here. he’s a dumbass though so please hurry or he’ll get himself killed. 

he sighed lightly, and slunk around the shelf, on the look out for the robbers, eyes settling back on the doctor as he approached the counter. he used the shop’s natural cover , cautiously moving forward, locating the robbers on the other side of the store, apparently trying to steal whatever they thought they could to make a quick buck. clearly they weren’t very intelligent either.

“stay quiet,” he uttered once he made it to the counter, and he ducked behind it, near the edge, so he could still peek around to get a look at the rest of the store when need be.

standoff

[jeonggukxmi]

wonwoomi‌:

(&; }

regardless, jeongguk’s answer is not so much of an answer at all, nor does it really squash any of wonwoo’s worries. his offer is sincere but again, he gets the feeling jeongguk doesn’t feel the same, only agrees to keep wonwoo from asking more or pressing. he decides to drop it; he doesn’t want to push him away before he can even try to regain his trust or form some sort of friendship again ( or for the first time? ). “good. just remember that. what sort of books are you reading these days, anyway? maybe we can do deliveries for an extra cost…” 

jeongguk hums in agreement, because he always was one, and he’s still both smart and a bit of an ass to this day, all of his growth aside. wonwoo really should think through what he says if he doesn’t want jeongguk picking it apart. he excels when it comes to details, of course. it’s funny that wonwoo confirms exactly what he was thinking, too, but not funny enough to warrant another smile or anything resembling a laugh. it’s still amusing, regardless.

will wonwoo’s concern ever be anything less than perplexing? it’s almost irritating-- like a puzzle jeongguk can’t solve, or a case he can’t crack, and he’s always hated those. he won’t dare ask, however, but he wonders. what has he ever done for wonwoo but call him a nuisance? get him intel? tell him what to do and call him an idiot? those were his primary functions back in his days of phoenix, and while he’s sure they missed his skills, he doubted much beyond that. his reception with phoenix members thus far has been far warmer than expected, but he knows his luck will run out soon enough. he doesn’t dare test it.

still, here wonwoo is, offering...companionship? tentative assistance-- an alliance. jeongguk can play along, at least as far as it looks safe, which means sharing little, keeping in mind that anything he says to wonwoo is still saying something to phoenix. regardless of wonwoo’s stupidity and tendency to appear sincere, jeongguk can’t do anything but expect betrayal. 

“i’m reading a lot of ebooks,” he replies, not in need of any deliveries, and he holds his head a little high as he says it. “i could just...get as many as i want by hacking the stores, but,” he shrugged, and maybe he shouldn’t say it. maybe it would too easily indicate where his allegiances lie now; maybe in itself, it’s dangerous to admit he’s strayed from illegal activity. “i’m trying to live honestly.” he says it regardless. he decides to leave the details out, because it might be more incriminating if he shares that his most recent read was on forensics. he’s been trying to learn more about the details of his coworkers’ lives (because he’s professional enough not to find them by hacking.)

&; what you’d do for a friend }

[jeonggukxmi]

starlingxmi‌:

(&; }

“these are good,” haneul uttered as he plucked another full glass from a passing tray, movements jerkier, careless, maybe even cocky. he caught the eye of a woman staring from across the room over the rim of his glass; she looked old enough to have been one of his homeroom teachers in school. she smiled, raised her glass. he frowned, then moved to sip, “do rich people drink this all the time? no wonder they’re so full of themselves.”

“clever,” jeongguk deadpanned, despite it not being clever or remotely amusing. he could just leave this kid to steal from half the elites in the ballroom and drink himself into a stupor-- maybe let his more terrifying and more powerful date for the evening catch him instead and finally toss him into a jail cell after all of his second chances jeongguk couldn’t even count anymore. maybe she wouldn’t care, too preoccupied with the darker parts of myeongcho. jeongguk wasn’t as concerned about the stealing as he should’ve been, moreso the way he chugged a glass of alcohol, however small and fancy it might’ve been.

he wasn’t the type to nag, however, so he simply observed him in all of his misplaced haughtiness. he thought he reminded him of himself once upon a time, but no, protocol was far smarter. haneul was young, in too deep, over-confident, and stupid. a past jeongguk was far more foolish than he ever would’ve imagined, but not this foolish. jeongguk knows now that true intelligence only comes with the admittance that you don’t know everything, even if you still pursue such knowledge. he’s sure haneul thinks he knows everything.

it was curious, though: this put together version of who he knew as something like a street rat, petty thief, far less clean and proper. maybe he can put his former extortionist skills to good use and finagle how out of him, if he can’t get the why.

surprisingly, haneul offers it up himself, and that’s how jeongguk knows he’s really had too much to drink. his boss. that means he has a job. is this a new development, or did jeongguk assume incorrectly that he didn’t have a job last time they brought him in to the station? “does your boss know you’re stealing wallets?” he asks, eyebrow raised. judging by his attire, or his very appearance at this event, he (or his boss) should be well off enough that a little extra stealing isn’t necessary. maybe it’s just old habits dying hard. 

he winces as haneul takes more alcohol. he doubts telling him to stop actually will stop him; if anything, he’ll probably drink more out of spite, so he resolves to just keep an eye on him instead. “i don’t know. i’m not rich,” he replies, and it’s true. “rich people have expensive taste, especially with alcohol, from my experience. i don’t think the expensive stuff actually tastes that different, but they would probably call me uncultured.”

//hindsight

[jeonggukxmi]

kyejunmi‌:

(&; }

The boy bowed slightly and smiled, “I’m Jun.”

He wasn’t completely lying, Jun was one of his nicknames but Yejun was his real name, which he didn’t feel comfortable with sharing with this customer he’s never seen before. 

of course, the regulars knew his name because he performed every… 2-3 weeks? 

but this person wasn’t a regular. He was a new customer who has never been here before so.. if he becomes a regular, he’ll find out his name soon enough. 

what a miserable conversation. as much as jeongguk may have changed during his time away from the island, in busan with his family, he still wasn’t one for small talk...or talk much in general. aside from that, he felt like he got worse day by day, regressing where he previously made progress, like myeongcho just sucked everyone dry of every good thing. he would need to suck it up and talk here, though, calling upon his old extortionist skills from phoenix, now lost to the abyss of memories he tried not to call upon.

he nodded, but he couldn’t imagine just standing around doing nothing during slow times. jeongguk was a restless person, and the mpd was a suitable workplace for him if only because no one ever had time to breathe. he preferred it; he had time to relax after work, which he had little time of, because he worked so much-- by choice. part of him knew they would never outpace the crime on the island, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

“what do you study, if you don’t mind me asking?” he tried to keep things up, as casual as possible, not robotic as was natural for him. he wanted to ask an array of questions that would surely give away his intentions: how old are you? what do you do for fun? when do you usually work here? when is your shift over? what are your skills? do you know of anyone hacking in this building? he didn’t ask any of them, keeping his curiosity to himself.

he bowed slightly in turn when jun introduced himself, not bothering with a nice to meet you because it wasn’t really nice, it was just an event-- a necessity. he had no real reason to doubt this barista’s honesty, but jeongguk’s paranoia always ran rampant. for now, he held fast to his skepticism, but took note of his name. jun. he would remember his name, and unfortunately, visit this cafe often and make conversation with everyone that worked here. how excruciating.

&; hack attack }

[jeonggukxmi]

mixhyunwoo‌:

(&; }

It was only a matter of time before the robbers made it down to their aisle and before Hyunwoo could properly think over his own options, he was scrambling to his feet, furtively looking around one last time before grabbing hold of the younger man and tugging him along with him.

“C’mon!  We need to get to the cashier before the robbers decide to have another go at him,” he urged, his low tone doing nothing to mask the urgency in his voice, “otherwise I don’t think he’s gonna make it before the cops get here!”

of course, his companion, who jeongguk grew more and more convinced by the second was daft, didn’t know how to handle this situation. clearly the man was a civilian, or a very good actor of a gang member. he was surprised anyone on myeongcho would be so shaken by a robbery, but anyone could panic in the face of immediate danger, he supposed. not him, though, only a little fear; if anyone needed to remain calm, it was jeongguk.

“i do,” he replied flatly, in a way that bordered sarcasm, seriousness of the statement surely uncertain. clearly, he needed to back his claim up with action, so he felt around his jacket with his free hand. what pocket did he put his badge in again? ah yes, there it was. he took it from his pocket and flashed it at the minor idiot beside him. 

“not an officer,” jeongguk clarified, before he asked-- before the where’s your gun, why aren’t you trying to help the cashier, why won’t you arrest the men? he was doing the best he could for his position. he wanted to express how important his own survival was, but he doubted the man would understand. instead, he’d likely find him haughty, placing his life above others, arrogant. he seemed the type.

“if they come here we need to be able to defend ourselves, just in case,” jeongguk explained. he knew enough self defense now, thanks to his training at the police academy. he might be able to disarm one of them, but attacking could put his unwanted ally in danger, and he wasn’t eager to do that either. “otherwise, i’m listening.”

when the man pulled on him, jeongguk resisted. “what are you doing?” he asked in turn, accusatory, but he shared his plan before long, and jeongguk let out a huff of a sigh that he feared was too loud immediately after. “it’s too dangerous,” he argued, voice still a hushed whisper, but urgent. what investment did he have in this man’s life really, though? who was he to tell him what to do, other than someone working with the mpd, not even a cop?

still, he pulled away. “if you want to die you go. i’ll be more help alive.

standoff

[jeonggukxmi]

mixhyunwoo‌:

(&; }

“Or at least not yet anyway,” he added, glancing at his companion as he wrapped an arm around his knees, “they were getting pretty rough with the cashier last I saw…”

And for the second time that day, Hyunwoo felt his heart stop when, as if on command, he heard a scuffle break out before one of the gunmen shoved a now crying cashier to the floor and the next thing everyone heard was the sound of a gun going off.

“We’re not leaving here fucking empty handed, you hear me?,”the leader of the trio yelled as he stomped away from the cash register, drowning out the sounds of the cashier’s raspy breaths.

“Take whatever the fuck you can get!  Or did you forget we’re the ones with the guns!” 

it was probably smart for them to get closer together, able to talk at even lower volumes, but that didn’t mean jeongguk had to like it. his bubble of personal space was larger than most, as her largely preferred to remain unbothered at all times, but given these were special circumstances, he would allow it without a complaint, and without a second thought. 

not yet, he said, voicing the words jeongguk didn’t dare say lest-- the gunshot rang out. yes, that. jeongguk wasn’t superstitious, believing everything had a reasonable pattern or explanation or both, but he knew there was a pattern of seeming to curse something by entertaining a negative possibility. it seemed that was the case here, and jeongguk remained stoic even in the face of the quiet cries of the cashier. “they shot him now?” he asked, confirming, despite already knowing the answer.

he took out his phone again to shoot his contact at the mpd another text: one shot, i think. i can’t see it for myself. he got an answer back in response almost immediately, like the notification of his latest message finally compelled the man to check his phone and see the prior ones. we’ll send help as soon as we can, his reply read. that was good enough for jeongguk. now they just needed to hold out as long as they could. 

(for better or worse, he had faith the mpd valued his life enough to put a little extra priority on this crime than they usually would, with as spread thin as they constantly were.)

he should probably start carrying a gun. it made him feel too much like a cop, but maybe he needed to accept his fate as always being mistaken for one by everyone that knew his occupation and embrace it. it would certainly be useful to have a gun right about now, even though he still doubted his ability to remain cool-headed when it came to actually pulling a trigger. 

instead, he reached up his pant leg, always a little baggy these days precisely so he could strap a knife to his leg. it’s what he retrieves now, stuffing his phone, on vibrate, back into the pocket of his jacket. “stay down,” he muttered lowly before defying his own orders and standing, knife in hand, listening for the stomping footsteps throughout the store, and the cries of the others in the store. it sounded like they were harassing one of the innocent people now (outside of the cashier, of course.)

he still decided not to move. he could save more lives if he was alive than he could even if he died to keep the people here alive; he hoped so, anyway.

standoff

[jeonggukxmi]

when jeongguk focuses, it’s always intensely, and jeongguk is quite good at focusing. he stays in the zone, and at times he knows people won’t be talking to him, he still plays music through his earbuds-- not the same headset he used to in phoenix, something he long since parted with. he has a new headset now, and a new desk, and proper workspace. it’s been more than a year since he started working for the mpd. time flew by, and so little is different. it doesn’t really bother him; he finds comfort in consistency.

what he doesn’t find comfort in: seonghwa interrupting his workflow. yes, he’s aware it’s lunchtime. he’s also aware that their island was a cesspool, and they couldn’t afford to blink, so much as take a proper break. he would get out his lunch he packed in a minute, likely stuffing kimbap into his mouth while still staring at his computer screen, trying to uncover information for the latest case he was assigned to. the sooner he does this, the sooner he can move onto the next one, or in the rare case they don’t need him, he can look into cases on his own. resting? never heard of her.

still, it’s hard for jeongguk to say no to food. he otherwise ignores seonghwa for the most part, barely even looking at him to grab a cookie. he’s not the type to eat sweets for lunch (most of the time) so he begrudgingly takes out his own lunch. curse seonghwa. he still doesn’t really look at him, but maybe his wicked plan worked.

(he knows seonghwa isn’t wicked. his good heart is abundantly obvious, and the mpd needs people like him just as much as they need the jaded ones. he’s just a nuisance.)

.cookies and friendship

starter for @jeonggukxmi !

it’s lunch time, and seonghwa knows jeongguk’s not about to take his break - not by the way he’s got his head down working on whatever smart thing it is he’s doing. this, however, doesn’t sit well with seonghwa, who’s sat with a box of freshly baked cookies just waiting to be eaten. if jeongguk doesn’t take his break in the next five minutes seonghwa’s going to step in on this nonsense. even if jeongguk’s bound to complain, he can’t sit by and watch the man starve himself all for a job. 

five minutes tick by, seonghwa’s frown deepening with every minute that passes, until he’s practically glaring at jeongguk’s back. right, that’s it. he stands up, cookie box in hand, and makes his way over to jeongguk’s desk. leaning his hip against it he sighs. “jeongguk, it’s lunchtime, aren’t you taking your break?” he doesn’t wait for a response though, before he’s opening his cookie box. 

“here, have a cookie?” he moves to grab the empty chair from the next desk and pulls it over, sitting backwards on it, hand still holding out the cookies to jeongguk. he knows he’s acting like jeongguk’s mother or something, but even if jeongguk doesn’t much care about him, he cares about jeongguk, even considers him a friend, even if only because he’s the only other person on the force his age. it’s nice not to have to hang out with middle aged men if he can help it, but jeongguk doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about the friendship. 

it doesn’t stop seonghwa trying though - surely one day he’ll crack jeongguk and they’ll be proper friends. 

[jeonggukxmi]

kyejunmi‌:

yejun was about to step away from the counter when the man spoke. 

“was that to me?” he asked himself before turning back slightly. 

the boy debated on answering back, what if that man wasn’t talking to him? what if he had some sort of earpiece and he was talking to someone else? he didn’t want to make anything awkward!!! 

“no harm in trying…” he thought before turning towards the man again and nodding, “i suppose it is, sir. but it gets super boring when no one comes out of their houses for a hot coffee or a hot cocoa.” 

yejun was worried that he made the situation awkward and he had said too much, so he quietly took out a towel and he started cleaning up the counter to help his nervousness. 

he was a nervous boy okay? he didn’t like making mistakes in social interaction, which is probably the reason why he didn’t have many friends, or talk to anyone much. 

he thought that silence was consuming him, like the music of life stopped playing for him as he waited for this man’s reply. there was nothing else for him to do after all, no one else was there in the shop. 

was that to me? yes, of course it was. who else could he be talking to? were his social skills really so bad as for it to not be clear? it wasn’t something jeongguk intended to fret over, but he couldn’t help but wonder. he simply nodded. it wasn’t like jeongguk really needed a response, so it could’ve been to himself. maybe that’s why he asked.

he took a sip of his coffee and smiled, small, at him, nodding again. “do they not let you be on your phone?” he questioned, making further easy conversation that truthfully wasn’t easy for him. surely there are things you can do for fun...like hacking into my security? jeongguk thought to himself. there were so many other people it could be, and an exclamation of boredom was so ultimately innocent, unfortunately.

“i’m jeongguk,” he decided to introduce himself, but he didn’t offer a handshake, or anything of that sort. he just figured if he made the move, he’d get the other’s name in return, and then he could track him down and look him up later.

by that standard, however, he should go around and introduce himself to every person in the cafe, which would likely be highly suspicious. starting out with the employees and regulars seemed safe enough. god, he was going to have to become a regular himself, wasn’t he?

&; hack attack }

[jeonggukxmi]

mixhyunwoo‌:

(&; }

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out as he reached the other man, pressing his forehead against the cool floor tile as his body sagged in relief now that he was out of the robbers’ view.

“I think you might’ve just saved my life,” he said tiredly, feeling completely winded as he lifted up his head to flash the other a weak smile.

he wasn’t out in the field often. usually, he remained at the comfort of his desk at the police department, behind his computer, wrapped up in security and intel. this is different. i’m not a cop, he always tells people, and he believes it. he works with the mpd, that’s all, but in this moment he feels more like a real officer than ever. what does he do in a situation like this? the jeongguk of a mere few years ago wouldn’t have cared. only his life mattered back then, and even so, it didn’t matter much. he didn’t have much to lose. it’s different now; there are several lives in this building to lose with the wrong move, and it’s something he’s keenly aware of.

he wondered if these were robbers with the true intention to shoot people here, or it was all an act to ensure they got whatever they came here for. it was a strange target for a robbery, too, which so many other places sporting a greater cash prize for them. it made him suspect they were amateurs. whether that made them more or less likely to take a life here, he wasn’t sure. 

he heard the gunshot, but he didn’t see it to know whether they shot someone or not. he kept his ears peeled. he could hear the men speaking to each other, but couldn’t make out any words. was the cashier dead, or was she not? they didn’t need her alive. he wondered if they knew that. he should probably hope not.

finally, the other man, who jeongguk couldn’t help but find stupid despite having no reason to believe so, made his way over to his aisle, still laying on the floor, which was fair enough. jeongguk only hummed in response to his gratitude, or whatever it was, not intending to talk more than necessary. saving lives seemed to suit his occupation now, or at least his affiliation. he had no business doing such as just a hacker, but maybe he needed to sport the for the mpd part of his title a little more proudly. still, it might be a little dramatic for the man to already consider his life saved when they were still very much in danger. he decided not to point that out.

“did they kill anyone?” he asked, voice hushed, avoiding the use of yet. jeongguk was always prepared for the worst. maybe his new company had a better vantage point than he did and saw a little more, or maybe he just had his gaze pointed at the ground the whole time, entirely useless.

standoff

[jeonggukxmi]

clawmi‌:

(&; }

she wants to add more of her brain into this, but of course in a less pleasant way. “perhaps they just wanted to cause more fear. that’s what gangs do, right? make a point through intimidation.” she shrugs after she says her input on the situation. “i mean, if i were them, i’d want to make sure people don’t underestimate or something. you said this might be lynx, right? they might want to assert their dominance or something.” 

claw-- better yet, hyejoo --isn’t bad at what she does. she’s young and ultimately inexperienced, but she does have talent, and with more practice, she could truly be dangerous and he may have to bring her in to the police. for now, however, he doesn’t think she does much harm, and in this exact moment, it’s good to have someone to collaborate with. he hesitates to say he needs help, because he doesn’t, and he hates to admit to relying on anyone at all, but the phrase “two heads are better than one” isn’t a lie. there are exceptions to that, of course, like when one head is insufferably annoying and talks too much, but hyejoo hasn’t quite fallen into that category just yet. he can easily remove himself from this situation if she does.

he ignores her comments, instead, using his flashlight to shine around them, searching for anything else that might give him an idea of the why behind this event. maybe motive isn’t so important, and he just needs to try and track down the signal of whoever shut the power off-- where the breach came from. it’s difficult from here, though, with only his phone and without the mpd’s intel. he wonders if people have sent in tips. maybe he should call. there’s some amount of thrill in trying to solve this puzzle himself, however, just like old times, as much as he claims he’s left it behind. 

“lynx isn’t stupid,” he replies easily, and that much he’s sure of. “they’re some of the smartest people i’ve encountered in crime.” they all posses some kind of cunning the others don’t. jeongguk knows now, with a little more stability and less insecurity, that he probably wouldn’t have been the best hacker in his gang if he was in lynx instead of phoenix. he would’ve tried to be, but from his knowledge, lynx had more of them, all with brains like jeongguk’s. lynx is intelligent, so if it was them, what is their goal? maybe he’s wrong, and it’s not lynx after all. who else could gain something from this? he simply hums in response to the rest of hyejoo’s words-- ones he ultimately deems useless and irrelevant.

money, yes. it’s always about the money. “these paintings might be worth more than anything else they could find here,” jeongguk answers, but he isn’t sure. either way, something in this building being of worth to them would explain the power outage. if it was lynx-- and that’s a big assumption --are they responsible for the bombs as well? it’s most likely a single attack, right? then why the bombs? hyejoo’s next point is a good one, and jeongguk nods. “that could be it,” he admits, and it’s not too difficult for him to, surprisingly. “i think lynx is underestimated a lot, so they could want to prove how capable they are. if it is them, i’d accept them to claim it soon, though, so i guess we’ll find out.” maybe it’s in line with hydrus’s executions-- some show of power for the sake of their pride. “i’d expect lynx to be more subtle though. i think they’re more the type to drain the bank accounts of the richest people in myeongcho and claim that, though i guess they could be trying to prove they’re just as capable of violence for power as the others are.”

caught clean-handed

[jeonggukxmi]

kyejunmi‌:

(&; }

while making the drink, he looked around the shop. not a lot of people were there, some students were just working away on their laptops and some people were just drinking their coffee quietly, the music just filling the room. 

once finished with the black coffee, he went to the counter that was open and shouted out the order. 

“One Black Coffee for Jeongguk!” He shouted as he put the lid on the cup. 

Looking around, no one had stepped forward to claim the coffee so he shouted out again. 

“Black Coffee for Jeongguk!”  

he took his time, observing. no one looked outright suspicious-- showing hints of nerves or looking around to make sure they weren’t caught. then again, whoever hacked into the mpd’s database would’ve been done with it, so they had no reason for fear anymore, really. maybe they weren’t even in the cafe anymore, making their great escape, only using it as a location that made it hard to trace them. still, it was a public wifi network. he could get on his own laptop, see all of the devices connected to it, and make note of them, then track them for if there are any further attacks. if he could figure out the device the hacking came from, the person wouldn’t come long after.

he heard the barista calls his name, but he hesitated, and instead, observed the other customers. he wasn’t a high profile member of the mpd, and online, he was mostly known as reset, a bit undercover in cyberspace, building trust between him and other hackers in case he could use them to get information. if a hacker was trying to break into the mpd servers, however, it was likely that they knew information on the mpd’s employees-- maybe they even got it from their last breach. so he waited, just in case he saw a reaction from anyone in the location. 

there was no sign of fear-- instead, the barista called his name again, so he turned on his heel and stepped up to the counter, taking his drink. there was no one else in line, so he lingered for a moment. it might make sense to make conversation and see if there was any information this man might let slip, even if it was just about the barista himself. 

“it’s cold out today. bet it’s nice to be warm in here.” god, jeongguk was not one for small talk, but he needed to try.

&; hack attack }

[jeonggukxmi]

wonwoomi‌:

(&; }

he expects this, as much as he wishes he didn’t have to hear it. he’s not nosy, really, but mingyu’s curiosity had rubbed off on him over the years. “alright, fine. can I ask just one non-invasive question? or rather, make another offer. if whatever you’re doing isn’t safe — which is the question so feel free to say it is and I’ll stop totally not worrying — you know where to find me. you know… if you ever need a hand.” 

wonwoo is a little funny. jeongguk won’t give him that out loud, but internally, he can allow it. with what he knows about phoenix, he’s probably right; they aren’t likely to frequent a bookstore. they’d probably go to the library for anything they may need-- temporary books, and nothing permanent, though there were probably the few exceptions. that was enough reason for him to stay away. all he needed was one person to report his survival to the rest of phoenix, and then the same gang that killed his sister the first time he tried to escape would be on him again, and who knows what they’ll do now. eris. she already knows he’s alive too, and phoenix hasn’t come after him yet, so maybe she’s in the realm of trustworthy, too. he wants to believe wonwoo, but he can’t afford to. it could so easily be a trap, and it’s one he doesn’t want to fall into. “earn it,” he answers with a small nod, not as vicious as the words would be leaving the mouth of the jeongguk wonwoo last knew.

his lips quirk up in another ghost of a smile, and he looks down briefly with a slight shake of his head. jeongguk isn’t really the type to be swayed by discounts, even if maybe he should be; it’ll take some time for him to be able to visit, if he ever does. maybe this is a start, though. he’s only 90% opposed.

“that is a question,” jeongguk informs him, though it once again lacks malice-- still a little flat, however. he can’t stray too far from his usual tendencies. “so you’ll be asking two questions.” he doesn’t tell him he can’t, mainly because he knows wonwoo will ask no matter what he tells him. what’s more important is his choice whether to answer or not. his true question is a strange one, though it’s not really a question he asks at all. why would wonwoo worry for his wellbeing? it’s so difficult to wrap his head around the fact that his makeshift death may have caused anyone to grieve. maybe, if wonwoo did, so of that lingers. it’s still so peculiar, and he hesitates, both mulling over the strangeness of it and how to answer.

what he does isn’t safe; not really. it’s safer than most of the people he works with; he gets to sick at a desk and work remotely, taking care of security and snagging information from databases and the gang servers he used to run. there will always be some risk, though. isn’t there in everything on this island? “i’m fine,” he decides, “but okay.” he can’t imagine himself ever asking wonwoo for help.

&; what you’d do for a friend }