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Midsummer Event Tracker

Outfit: Forest Faerie Prince

Drank: Lust

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Wi Hajun IG update 05.03.2025

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Sung Joon eyed her warily. The last time he’d felt a chill like that was around a gumiho. Or at least, he thought it had been a gumiho. Then again, in this city just about anything could send a shiver down his spine.

To her credit, she seemed to notice his reaction and kept a respectful distance. He appreciated that more than he let on, though part of him felt guilty for reacting so strongly.

When she finally spoke, he nodded politely. He watched her browse, and despite the cold aura that clung to her, there was something warm about the way she moved. It allowed him the simple courage to draw closer to the stall. His fingers trailed along a row of bead bracelets in soft hues of pink, green, and white. Ha-Rin, his daughter, would have loved one of these. He picked up a bracelet, turning it over in his hand as the thought lingered. But he knew he wouldn’t send it. Ha-Rin wouldn’t remember his face. Maybe Si-woo, his son, would. Maybe.

“They are quite pretty,” he said quietly, setting the bracelet back. Then, glancing over at her, he said, “Are you shopping for yourself? Or someone else?”

Of course Ophelia noticed the slight shiver that went through his body when they collided, and she couldn't help but feel bad. Usually she was more careful about bumping into folks, especially those who seemed unused to the supernatural temperature difference.

She gave the man an apologetic smile. "Truly, I'm sorry." She went out of her way not to be rude and get in his personal space again, straightening her slightly ruffled hair and clothes as she inched along the display. "Some very lovely work here," she commented lightly, like some small talk would make her feel less awkward about her clumsy introduction. "I'm always amazed by how complexly some can work. Like this," she gently touched a leather bag decorated with what could only be described as an intricate tapestry made from the smallest beads she'd ever seen. "Absolutely gorgeous," she mused, unable to hide her awe.

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Forest Faerie Prince

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Sung Joon shut the concealed door in his office. The seam melted seamlessly back into the wooden wall—so smooth and discreet that, unless you knew the location of the hidden button, you’d never know it existed.

He had spent hours toiling over new containment tech, chasing a design that could withstand even the most destructive forces, magical or not. Prototype after prototype had ended in the scrap bin until, frustrated, he finally scrapped the entire concept and started anew.

A glance at his watch drew a long sigh from his chest. He ran both hands through his hair, smoothing out the stray pieces that had fallen from hours bent over the workbench. At least his children were still far away, never knowing their father not because of his workaholism, but simply because of the miles between them. A cleaner excuse, he supposed.

Leaving the P.S. building, he chose the side exit over the employee lot. He hadn’t driven in today. He hadn’t wanted to deal with traffic, and the morning weather had been pleasant enough to walk.

That decision soured the moment he came across someone being arrested.

Not shocking in a city like this, teeming with every kind of trouble. But it was odd to see it happening outside his building and not by one of his security.

When asked if he knew the man, he shook his head without much thought, ready to keep walking. But then the words caught up to him. In his exhaustion, they’d barely registered until they hit like a splash of cold water. His steps halted. He pivoted sharply on his heel and strode toward the officer and the so-called criminal with long, purposeful strides.

His brow drew into a sharp crease, and his eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

No. He didn’t know this man. Nothing about him was familiar. And yet, without hesitation, he said, “Oh yes. He’s part of the drop-off crew.”

His expression softened as he turned to the officer, voice polite but firm. “Sneaking around back is part of his job description, I'd say. I’d appreciate it if you let him go. And if you need proof, I can have his work authorization pulled up faster than you can say yes.”

He offered a practiced, disarming smile.

The lies slid off his tongue with ease. He didn’t need this stranger disappearing into the system where Sung Joon might never see him again. He preferred a more personal interrogation than the P.D. could offer.

for: open (@vievecorcitystarters)

location: literally anywhere

Jo had the man firmly restrained, both arms yanked behind his back and locked in a pair of magically reinforced handcuffs. He was sweating, squirming against her hold as she marched him forward with little effort—one hand gripping the cuffs, the other planted solidly on his shoulder to keep him moving.

“Hey,” she called, raising her voice just enough to catch the attention of the person who had just stepped out of the building. The man slowed, and she gave him a rough nudge to keep him moving. “Found this guy sneaking around the back. Says he knows you?”

When he jerked in her grip without a word—jaw clenched, eyes darting, refusing to back up his own story—she let out a short, unimpressed breath. “Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

She looked back to the other person. “You might want to take a look around. See if anything’s missing or out of place—just in case you’re thinking about pressing charges.” The man twisted again, earning nothing more than a firmer grip. “Either way,” Jo said, eyes briefly leaving the other person as she flashed the man a fake smile, “he’s coming with me, and we’ll have a nice, long chat at the precinct.”

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The Shipyard District had a creepy vibe that Sung Joon naturally disliked. Maybe it was just human instinct or maybe something cultural. He wasn’t the type to fear ghosts or things that went bump in the night, but still, whenever he stepped into this part of the city, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Too many unseeing eyes. Too many phantom ears. Not to mention that encounter with one of the more malevolent spirits during the blackout. He wasn’t sure how often they passed through here, and he wasn't too keen to know. But he had no desire to meet another like them.

Still, he pushed through the sudden drop in temperature and made his way toward the Marketplace. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular. In truth, he wasn’t looking for anything at all. Just people-watching. His attempt to capture a supernatural creature during the blackout had failed, but he was a patient hunter.

He paused at an arts and crafts stall. His fingers brushed over beadwork and leather pieces, admiring their detail. For a moment, he was simply a man, not a watcher or a hunter.

Then a sudden blast of cold air hit him like a snowball. In any other season, he might’ve thought nothing of it, but this was nearly summer. His body shuddered involuntarily, and he dropped one of the bead designs back onto the table.

Flushed with embarrassment, he quickly smoothed it out. The vendor had done such a careful job with the display. As he straightened, he glanced over his shoulder at the person beside him and offered a soft smile.

“No harm done, so no worries,” he said gently, brushing down his suit as if to shake off the chill. Then he gestured toward the stall’s center. “Please—go ahead. I think I was just in the way.”

for: (open) @vievecorcitystarters

location: The Shipyard, The Docks

As large a place as Vievecor City was, there were parts of it that felt special, almost secret to Ophelia. One of those places being the Marketplace of The Docks. She knew that living folks tended to avoid the spirits' domain due to the chill, but obviously that never bothered her even when she was alive. Those who searched throughout the markets seemed to mostly have a purpose, something in particular they're searching for. So the marketplace, with its tents and stalls, and within those the wide variety of items to find, was a wonderful place to spend the day.

She had been strolling along, her gaze briefly captured by a fascinating piece of... art? ...when she bumped into someone, not very hard but it had definitely taken her off guard.

She yelped in surprise. "Ay!" Then steadied herself and looked toward the person she'd nearly knocked over. "Sorry about that, m' dear. I really should've been looking where I was going! Are you alright?"

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His jaw slackened, lips parting in a silent o. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been so enchanting—and so utterly terrifying. His thoughts blurred, but his heart stammered on. He wanted to say what she wanted to hear. No—what she needed to hear. Her eyes were a cobra’s gaze, and he was the trembling, cautious field mouse.

“You must not work in the corporate world,” he murmured. The laugh that followed was faint, almost choked, but it was the truth that he knew she wanted, even if it may not have been relevant to what she was probing for.

A beat passed. Another slow blink. Then his simpering smile stretched taut. He tugged up the sleeves of his suit jacket, revealing nothing remarkable. Just pale skin and the faint, blue map of veins beneath.

“Artemis,” he whispered as he reached his arms closer. A supplication to the vampire goddess before him. “They’re a nuisance. I don’t much like what they do, but I understand why it’s...necessary.”

"Don't be coy with me. Tell me the truth. People rarely make friends with those who lie to them." This was quickly evolving into a matter she should be turning over to Leon. There was a simpler solution that wouldn’t involve her adoptive sire, but as much as she pretended otherwise, Gloria didn’t have the same stomach for killing as other vampires—especially when it came to humans.

"Show me your wrist," she demanded, reaching for the same. "Who is your allegiance to? Artemis?" Her ire for the group knew little restraint. First, they had failed to protect her from getting jumped and turned into a monster. And now, they were hunting her because of it.

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The scene played out in slow motion. Funny how the human mind worked, somehow turning the internal systems into overdrive but the senses to molasses. When the bullet passed through the creature, it felt like a reckoning, where the catch to him being right came with a possible deadly consequence.

He shot off a few more rounds, watching with morbid fascination as the bullets slipped right through the other's gut and lodging into the building behind them. Oo-wa! What a fascinating creature!!!

That brief moment of being human was ripped out beneath him, and his dark eyes found the stretch of fangs between their parted lips. Fear struck him hard, like a train off the tracks. What had he done?

Time lapsed once again, and the gun in his hand dropped. It clattered to the ground, though Sung Joon could barely register the noise. The thing before him turned into a ghostly beast, all teeth and sunken, ire-filled eyes that made his heart stop. A sharp muzzle, sharper than the fangs, inched closer, and Sung Joon could feel its hot breath wash over him, humid and rancid.

What the hell was this thing? He had heard tales of the gumiho since childhood, but they had always been of seductive women or in the forms of foxes with nine tails, all of which enjoyed the hearts of men. But never had he heard of one becoming a monstrous brute, a werewolf of sorts...

He stayed rooted into place, unable to speak or run.

The human's words followed by the crack of the gun had Ayumu taking a step forward as if daring the bullet to hit them and knowing it never would. The piece of metal passed right through Ayumu's chest and it was then that the spirit sent out their tendrils of fear to grip at Sung Joon's mind, body and soul. This was what Ayumu was proficient at, twisting the fears of other creatures for their own gain.

"Silly human... That's not going to work on me," Ayumu growled, their lupine canines flashing on their human-looking face before it morphed in Sung Joon's mind into something even more fearsome and grotesque that only the human's own mind could conjure. To any observer, it would simply look like they were staring each other down, but in Sung Joon's, the large fox-like monster Ayumu morphed into was the most terrifying one he had ever seen and it was stalking closer and closer towards him, its intent to kill and devour.

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Sung Joon mimed them with an arched brow of his own, but quickly replaced it with a small, restrained smirk. The shipyard seemed the least optimal place to hide out when the city was shambling, and he had already run into a few very angry supes to think that being alone in a secluded location was a great idea.

But they didn't need to know that. To them, he could be some ordinary man, semi-oblivious to the world around him. He had gone this long playing the fool, hoping that that sense of weak, unintimidating would reel them in. "I leave the funny business to my career," he said, offering a shrug shortly after. "Computer software and the like, I mean. Out here is...deceptively different. I don't want to step on any toes."

He chewed on his own words, feeling as if he were some mole on the verge of making a bad deal. "I assume you came to take a breather from your own form of possible funny business?"

"I heard," Caia responded with a nod, still maintaining their calm composure while the city's chaos sounded in the background. "So if you're not security then what are you doing out here in the docks late at night? You're not up to some funny business are you?" they asked with an arch of their brow.

"One cannot be too careful given what everyone seems to be doing in the city."

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Sung Joon rooted in his place. He did not dare to turn his head to follow her as she circled him. He could not hear her footsteps, could not feel a breath on his nape, and if he were none the wiser, he would've thought she disappeared to follow her original prey. But, there was always something that lured things like her to things like him. Maybe it was the perceived weakness or the siren of his blood, but he wondered if it was something deeper than that, a nature he could not comprehend nor did he want to that infiltrated their psyche.

In a morbid sort of way, he found it quite interesting, and as the lioness stopped short, eye to eye, he concluded that she would be a prime candidate for his experiments. One of those collars he received from Artemis those many months ago was still tucked safely the hidden treasure chamber of his penthouse, and if he hadn't been bent on playing ally to the supernatural tonight, he would've brought it.

He smiled briefly, a charming tilt to his lips that didn't quite reach the hardness in his eyes. She was beautiful. Once again, in a morbid sort of way...

And then it hit him. The world stilled, and the ground beneath his feet turned abysmal. His mind a void, her voice the wake. Oh, she was so very, very beautiful that it would be disrespectful to ignore or deceive her question. He blinked slowly, and his smile widened, almost stupidly. He didn't want to disappoint her. "I wanted to help people like you by helping the people like me." The answer, vague as it was, was true. "I want to be friends with vampires and the like. Can't really do that behind a screen or wasting my time with Netflix."

"You're observant." Too observant for his own good. And nosy on top of that. Her footsteps barely made a sound as she began to circle him, taking her time, letting the moment stretch. She listened, sharp ears picking up the steady rhythm of his heart—quick but not erratic. That was not the heartbeat of a man entirely in the dark.

"But 'fun' is so very subjective, sometimes hard to comprehend." Her tone was light, almost amused. "Some people derive pleasure from inhaling tar on the regular. We all have our vices."

He wasn't too far of the mark though. Being human already made him less interesting than the wolf. The thrill of the chase still simmered in Gloria's veins, and the thought of her—of sinking her fangs into that fever-hot skin, of the taste she craved beyond reason, beyond the limitations of her own body’s tolerance blooming across her tongue—was enough to make her throat ache, raw and insistent.

But as much as she longed to chase after the werewolf, she couldn't just let him walk away, not if he had seen her—not if he knew what she was.

Her pacing slowed, then stopped entirely, just in front of him. Close enough that he could catch the faint scent of her perfume—something floral, something deep. Close enough that when she lifted her gaze to his, there was nowhere else for him to look.

"What are you doing out here alone at night instead of safely tucked away behind your desk or in front of your TV?" The words were smooth, effortless, but there was something just beneath them, a quiet suggestion. "These streets are dangerous. You never know who you might happen upon."

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Play it cool, play it safe, play it right. His escape from South Korea had taught him that, and even more so as continued to mingle with things he know he shouldn't. However, his tactic with the picture of his children worked, and he stumbled like a fawn on new legs as he gasped for the air he didn't know he was withholding.

After he caught his breath, he smooth down his shirt and fingered at the bruises that would surely come from this encounter. "Yes," he replied, if not somewhat bitterly. "To both of your questions." He cleared his throat to remove any remaining pressure left behind from the man's more-than-necessary firm grip. "I am the owner and founder of PS Tech. Maybe you heard of it. Maybe you haven't. Doesn't matter which way because I'm not hear to flaunt my business to you.

"I know about Artemis, and I know about what Artemis is hunting. I have been aware of your world for years. So it's lucky you did what you did to me and not someone who would wonder why your fingers were feverish and like a vice." He sighed. So much for playing it cool. Here he was patronizing and reprimanding a...well, he wasn't sure what like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. "Never mind that, I guess. Also, if you would do me a favor, please don't tell anyone I have children. I want them to stay as far away from this as possible. It's the least you could do after attacking me."

The human's grasp did nothing to dissuade William from his objective. He knocked the human back against the wall, uncaring if his head hit the cement or not, keeping him flush against the building. This one didn't need to get any smart ideas that he might be able to get away.

Will squeezed a bit tighter. "And you are a human that knows more than average." It fit right in with his theory that this one could be a member of Artemis. He knew about the supernatural, but there were humans on their side who took a lover or friend and learned the truth. There were also now supernaturals on Artemis's side. William didn't know who he could trust, but it certainly wouldn't be the slick talking stranger.

His eyes glanced at the ID card. It looked official. He'd heard of the company but hadn't bothered to do much research into it. He had no need to look into any tech more than the gadgets that he played with. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" He raised his brow. Surely this asshole didn't think that some high position would be enough to sway Will. It was the photo that caused him pause. His grip released as the man put away his wallet. "Those your kids?"

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Sung Joon turned cold, and the gun in hand wavered. There was still a bullet in the chamber. A last ditch defense if there ever was one. He was right to assume this person was not human, given that his own species rolled off the other's tongue with such icy, well-practiced malice.

It had almost made him miss that his name and his affiliation was announced. Almost.

Sung Joon's eyes narrowed, and his finger inched over the trigger. He had to remember that here he was a well-known public figure. He had been on the news, on magazines, on social media, and he wasn't so ignorant to the fact that these creatures evolved alongside and with his own.

Sweat beaded at his temples, on his back. Fear melded with it on his skin. He wasn't afraid to be afraid, and he sure as hell wasn't afraid to let it be known. He was human, and this is how humans survived and prospered and destroyed and created well beyond any physical oppressors in human-like skin. "I guess we’ll never know, moreul geojanha?"

A crack reverberated off the surrounding engulfed buildings as a bullet rocketed toward their heart.

"Help?" Ayumu laughed, a cackle that soon turned manic. "Help?!" they repeated before their expression turned stone cold. This human clearly knew what Ayumu was given what they said and they were finally putting a name to that face.

"Park Sung Joon. That's your name, isn't it?" the spirit asked, the look in their eyes thunderous as they levelled it on the human. "How are you proposing to help, human? When you are one of them too?" they yelled, voice ringing out across the docks.

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Sung Joon's heart leapt at a response. In actuality, he wasn't expecting to receive anything, chancing his fate to the dark and the things that crawled within it. When a figure appeared, nothing more than outline, he moved the light to face them.

He didn't speak for a moment as he analyzed their youthful face and casual posture. Maybe he was getting riled up for nothing, which tended to be a common trait he possessed as of late.

Slowly, he lowered the light but left it on, letting the beam cut into the night above the harbor waters. Something about the artificial light and the dark choppy waters unnerved him, and he reached back to smooth the hairs on the nape of his neck. "No," he said finally. "I had the same impression as you. Everyone else seems to be in the city doing who knows what." That was true, and while Sung Joon could've gone back to his safe spot under layers of prettily-dressed steel and concrete, he didn't want to give Artemis a reason to visit him.

Caia loved the ocean and Vievecor City was an island, which meant that the ocean was never too far away. It was a safe place for them to retreat to when things were getting overwhelming and that was where they found themself on the night of the blackout. Water pollution was not surprising to see at the docks, but beggars could not be choosers... Caia just had to deal with how it pained them to see trash float by on the lapping waves.

They were lost in thought and missing home was when they saw a light flick on from the corner of their eye and a voice sound out behind them. Caia did not have time to get up from where they were sitting with their legs dangling over the side of the boardwalk when a man appeared before them.

"Hey. What's up?" they said in return, noting how spooked the man seemed to be. It would be better for Caia to remain calm and casual if they had to diffuse any tensions. "I didn't think there'd be anyone out here. Are you security?"

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His hand wrapped reflexively around the other man's wrist. His skin was hot to the touch. That or Sung Joon's fingers had gone cold. He knew coming out would pose risks to his life, and if he was being truthful, this was one of his more mild interactions. For now at least, and he let out a strangled noise before shaking his head fervently.

He noticed the gun at his side, but that seemed to be the least of his worries. Keep calm. Keep the peace. He sighed deeply, but his heart continued to patter away at his chest. "Interesting. Like a sentient lie detector. I would ask if you were a vampire, but you are too warm." He smiled weakly, hoping that not having to keep up appearances would make the other man pity him long enough to release him. "I know the emblem, and I have been following them closely. Enough to get ideas, but not enough to determine a higher purpose."

He waved his hands again in supplication before slowly moving to fish his wallet out of his pocket. For a long time, he had kept a fake ID, but with his notoriety in the tech space, there was no reason to. He flashed the other man his work badge. Even if he was CEO, company protocol required all that entered the PS building to have one, and at certain times, it did come in handy. He hoped this was one of them. "Look. I may be able to offer some help. You understand that your kind or people like you aren't the only ones being affected by them and all this, right? I just want to do good by my kind and keep them out of this...um. Well, I guess this silent war." Subtly, ever so slightly, his finger slipped and a picture of his two children came into view. He snapped his wallet close and placed it back into his pocket.

Will squeezed his hand against Sung Joon's windpipe to remind the man not to be smart with him. He'd seen the way that the human's eyes had been glued to the hunter's mark. Although this one might not have put it there, there was something about the way that he gazed at it amidst the chaos that clued William in on the fact that he was too calm and aware. Most of the humans were running for safety.

"What do you know about them?" He kept the gun trained on the other man, eyes glued to any sign of movement. These people fooled him into a sense of false security before. William knew better now. This was more than random attacks to get a message across. This wasn't the suffering of a few individuals. This went so far beyond what the wolf imagined.

His eyes narrowed. "And don't even think about lying. I can hear your heartbeat. You ain't scared, and I am too tired of this shit to play any games."

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He bristled involuntarily as she drew nearer. The way she walked, the chime in her voice, the illustrious glimmer in her eyes, a beauty he couldn't quite comprehend were all dead giveaways that he was being approached by a predator. Even if he had not come across what was happening in the alley, his survival conscious would have told him that something was not right. That bare and raw instinct is what kept his kind alive, smartly so, because he didn't need to know what she was to know that she was not like him. Whatever her human subtleties were were now lost in her smooth, wicked movements.

His brow knitted, and his heartbeat quickened. "I suppose so, but maybe not." He steadied himself, but he would not run. There was no sense to. "There are too many corners to try to pick up any real speed, and unfortunately a desk job and years of smoking have left me out of shape. So, I may not be a lot of fun, if that's what you're hoping to elicit."

Gloria turned toward the voice, slow and deliberate. Her gaze flicked over him, taking in the way he lingered at the edge of the emergency light’s reach. She listened for his breath, his pulse, the rhythm drumming away beneath his skin just as a drift of air carried his scent towards her. Human.

She exhaled through her nose, more thoughtful than disappointed. Humans weren’t particularly worth the trouble. Not for something like this. And yet, caution dictated she at least consider the possibilities. He could be one of Artemis' followers. Or he could be just another fool wandering into things he didn’t understand.

Still, when Gloria moved toward him, it was without urgency. “Just a game of catch,” she mused, as if this were nothing more than idle conversation. Then, after a beat, her head tilted slightly, a sharp smile twitching at her lips. “Are you a fast runner?”

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Sung Joon broke his silence with a click of the hammer. A bullet locked itself in the chamber, and the gun felt heavier then. A placebo effect. His hand steadied, but the muscles in his arm ached with the strain. "Body language," he said finally.

The air between them electrified. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at the word innocent. There was no such thing in this world, and unjust and unfair treatment was a common thread that braided both this person's community and Sung Joon's. Artemis, whether they were justified or not, was soon to experience an Icarus effect, and he knew how pushing supernaturals too far went personally. "Why choose now to do something?" He asked, lips thinning. "I don't want to shoot you. I don't expect it will do anything anyways, but humor me by putting down the weapon and allowing me to help you."

"Oh? How do you know that mine was not for self-defence either?" Ayumu asked with a tilt of their head, their blade not moving an inch even with the other man's gun pointed at it.

"You couldn't have seen our entire altercation unless you were lurking in the shadows for awhile and I do not take kindly to those who would take advantage of innocents." The statement was less about the man lying prone at his feet, but more about Artemis and what they had done to the supernatural community tonight.

[ps-park]

when: during the blackout where: the shipyard who: open @vievecorcitystarters

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Sung Joon scrolled through the burner phone that he tinkered into a hacking device. Information that had been pulled by unsuspecting victims appeared as encrypted text messages, and unless someone had the key, it would appear as nothing more than a string of emojis, numbers, symbols, and letters. A wingdings sort of language that detailed bank information, known IP addresses, VPN services, saved passwords, most viewed web addresses.

Useful information to use and useful information to sell. Artemis and its followers have been his most loyal clients, but they were becoming like a worn shoe: comfortable and reliable, but unsightly and embarrassing. How was he supposed to shake hands and break bread with the supernaturals if they continued to focus their fears and anger on a group that promotes fear and anger? It was quite sad, if he was being honest.

There was a clatter. Rocks and scuffed soles on concrete, and Sung Joon's head shot up. He pocketed his phone, replacing it with a flashlight. The shipyard was dark. Darker than normal, and the waves of the ocean lapped against the docks. His breath turned ragged, a response to his couch surfing back in Korea, and the damp, musty taste of the algae-coated shore filled his senses.

He clicked on the light and swept its beam across a seemingly empty yard. "Hello?"