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tiredandoptimistic · 5 months ago

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RvB tarot cards

I have once again cooked up a hypothetical tarot deck for a show I enjoy. I didn't make any art because I refuse to attempt Halo armor, but here's my pitch for which RvB character I'd assign to each of the major arcana.

0-The Fool: Franklin Delano Donut. The fool symbolizes new beginnings, and someone who is so excited to be on an adventure that they stop paying attention to the dangers around them. Donut is of course known for his vibrant enthusiasm, but he may not be the most mindful person. Despite all the dangers and near death experiences he's faces though, this plucky private just keeps on being fabulous.

1-The Magician: Frank "Doc" Dufrense. The magician is a powerful character because he stands outside the limits of the four suits, much like Doc's place beyond the constructed binary of Red vs Blue. He doesn't belong wholly to any group (and his mind doesn't even belong wholly to himself), but that won't stop him from showing up every day to make people more comfortable while they die. He is an outsider who comes to help others; it's just a question of whether he can live up to his own good intentions.

2-The High Priestess: Agent North Dakota. As an almost parental figure, the high priestess is often sought for advice and encourages cooler heads to prevail. North's place amongst the Freelancers was often defined by his role as a peacekeeper, serving as an advocate for calm and reasoned thinking in the face of bizarre circumstances. It's because of this logic and empathy that he was able to recognize Freelancer's corruption and ultimately defect from the project.

3- The Empress: Agent New York. The empress is a leader not through force but through nurturing. This suits York, who was consistently one of the highest ranked and best beloved Freelancers, in large part due to his amiable personality and willingness to listen to others. He often acted as a more passive or supportive member of the group, but his defection from the program proved that he was still an independent thinker and a leader in his own right.

4- The Emperor: Agent Carolina. In contrast to their counterpart, the emperor is the leader who maintains control through strict discipline. Carolina was the head of her squad in Project Freelancer due to her raw strength and combat ability, but she often allowed this reliance on rules and structure to go too far. She not only allowed the ranking system to control her life, but she expected her place as #1 to allow her to control the lives of others. After her time with the Reds and Blues she allowed herself to loosen up a bit, but she still maintained her domineering personality and commitment to victory.

5- The Hierophant: Col. Sarge. The hierophant is another leadership card, this one coming from a person who is entrenched in a place of authority and perhaps a bit too reliant on rules and history. Sarge is certainly a creative leader in many ways, but he also depends upon the army as the arbitrator of right and wrong; focusing heavily on receiving orders and passing them on to his subordinates. Sarge isn't completely unchangeable though, and we see in season eight onwards the sort of wild maneuvers he'll cook up on his own time.

6- The Lovers: Lopez and Sheila. This card is fairly self explanatory, I think. Two people in love! It just so happens that in this case, the happiest and most functional relationship is between a robot soldier and the enemy tank.

7- The Chariot: Agent South Dakota. The chariot is all about go-go-go. It's a card of action and movement, much like South's fiery and passionate personality. Though her impulsivity often got her benched, the limitations placed on her by the Director only added to her frustration and prevented her from getting any of that energy out in a healthy way. After Project Freelancer her main mission was always to keep moving and keep finding something new, no matter what destruction she had to leave behind.

8- Strength: Michael J. Caboose. While Caboose is of course strong in a physical sense, that's not exactly the meaning of the strength tarot card. Strength is the lion, but it's also the young woman who fearlessly scratches the lion's ears. Caboose can lift a tank, but his real power comes from the strength of his friendships and his willingness to trust anyone who comes his way. This endless optimism and determination to keep seeing the bright side of everything (even a killer robot) is what led the Reds and Blues out of many tough scrapes.

9- The Hermit: Dick Simmons. The hermit is a guy by himself, plain and simple. While Simmons craves the company of others, he often finds it easier to keep himself isolated than to deal with the complexities of humanity. If the Reds don't respect him he'll simply join the Blues and take over an empty base. He's smart, yes, but he sees his own powers as ultimate and doesn't want to be on the team if he isn't seen as essential.

10- The Wheel of Fortune: Agent Florida. As a symbol of fate and destiny, the wheel of fortune is suited to a character like Florida who may appear chaotic but ultimately pulls the strings of Blood Gulch. His personality can be a bit unpredictable at times, but Flowers is still completely in control. It's just a question of whether you've figured out his plan yet.

11- Justice: Agent Connecticut. While all the members of Project Freelancer were supposedly fighting for peace, CT is the only one who took it upon herself to keep their agency in check. The others followed of course, but she was the first whistleblower to really challenge Freelancer and uncover the twisted secrets of their organization, and she was more than willing to sacrifice her life if it meant getting that information to the right people. Though it didn't come to pass until after his death, CT was still the one who brought Project Freelancer to justice.

12- The Hanged Man: Lavernius Tucker. While the hanged man isn't exactly a cheery sounding card, what it's really about is looking at difficult situations from a creative perspective. Tucker was constantly tied up in the schemes of others (The Director, the Sangheli, Felix), but he always maintained his distinctive attitude and determination. While he would have preferred to stay the same guy he was in Blood Gulch, he proved again and again that he was more than able to adapt and evolve; thriving in lethal conflicts and becoming a hero unlike any other.

13- Death: The Meta. The Meta, like death, is not cruel or sadistic. It is simply coming for you, and you will not escape. Looking deeper though, the death card in tarot symbolizes the end to old systems and the transition to something new. The Meta was once Agent Maine, until is underwent a transformation more horrible than simply dying. It went through a metamorphosis, and in the process brought about the end of Project Freelancer and the beginning of a new era.

14- Temperance: Locus. This card is one that symbolizes balance more than anything else. As a man desperate to become a machine, Locus tried to maintain perfect control over himself. He wanted to appear solid and unshakeable, up until the bedrock of his partnership with Felix was shattered. After he turned on his partner, Locus struggled to maintain a different kind of balance; between the man he was and the man he wants to be.

15- The Devil: Felix. Well this one is pretty simple. The devil as a card is about evil, yes; but it's also about control and creativity. Felix found joy in his ability to wrap the people of the New Republic around his finger, and he thrived in command of an army of space pirates. More than that though, he had fun with it. He always came up with innovative ways to destroy his enemies or intimidate his allies, and he was completely free of guilt the entire time.

16- The Tower: The Director. While death and the devil sound scary on the surface, the tower is really the most powerfully negative card in the deck. Much like Dr. Church, the tower brings misery and despair to everyone associated with it. More specifically, the screaming people falling from a lightning struck tower symbolizes divine retribution for humans who saw themselves as gods. The Director spent his later years trying to build a program that could win a war and bring back his lost love, and his favorite tool was manipulation. He always wanted nothing more than to establish his own power and prove that he could maintain complete control over the world and people around him, but it was only a matter of time before his ship crashed into Sidewinder and his bitter children found his hiding place.

17- The Star: Dexter Grif. The star is another symbol of balance, though this one is more about fairness and hope. Grif is someone who may act discontented but clearly cares deeply about the people around him, and his unshakeable demeanor holds the Reds together (as much as Sarge would hate to admit it). While he doesn't literally nourish the land and water like the star, he stays calm amidst a team of fiery tempers and is able to keep the warthog running if they ever need a getaway vehicle.

18- The Moon: Agent Washington. The moon is all about changes and illusions, perfect for someone like Wash who spent so much time blending into different personas. While Wash, like the moon, can appear dark and mysterious; he's ultimately a force for positive change amongst the Reds and Blues, who in turn inspire him to change into the best version of himself.

19- The Sun: Kaikaina Grif. Simple joy, that's what the sun is all about. In a canyon full of shitty people and a show full of angst, Kai is one of the only characters who's just here to have a good time. As crazy as things get for her brother and his friends, she'll always be waiting back at Blue Base with enough music and glowsticks to keep the party going.

20- Judgement: Agent Texas. Much like the angel on this card descends to judge mankind, Tex was dragged from the afterlife to separate the worthy from the corrupt. While she was created as a sort of toy in the Director's grief, she quickly established her own sense of identity and justice. She saw the truth of Project Freelancer and made it her mission to destroy it, doing her best to free the Alpha. In Blood Gulch and beyond she acted as a sort of avenging angel for the Blues, swooping in to save their asses and punish whoever she deemed to be worthy of punishment. In the end they all learned something from Tex and her fierce determination. Church became his own protector, and he could finally let Allison rest.

21- The World: The AI fragments. The world is a card of ultimate completion. Much like the many fragments who came from a more powerful AI, many symbols surround the vast and vibrant landscape of this card. Delta, Theta, Gamma, Omega, Beta, Sigma, Eta, Iota, Epsilon, and Alpha are all characters in their own right; but they're also pieces of a whole. They were never able to reunite fully in Red vs Blue, but they live on in the memories of Epsilon and all of us who return to the show year after year.

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spaceistheplaceart · 4 months ago

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PROFESSOR LAYTON LOCKERS!

heavily based on @d1edre s lockers, I decided to make some for PL characters :) hope y'all like them even tho the images are a bit crusty!

#professor layton #pl #flora reinhold #randall ascot #luke triton #hershel layton #splatoon #splatoon lockers #splatoon 3 #op art #i dont own professor layton nor am i associated with level 5 etc etc

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the-fic-locker · 2 months ago

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The Widow | Part Two

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character funeral, grief, panic attacks, dissociation, bottling up emotions, early pining

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: He knew the memorial service was going to be hard on you both, but what he didn't expect was to witness just how kind-hearted your soul really is. No wonder Byungyu had been drawn to you. There might be a little part of Yoonho that's a little jealous, though, can you be jealous of a dead man?

Word Count: 2,790

Author's Note: I must say, I have never seen so many activity notifications! It felt like I was constantly getting more and more activity, and that was so heart-warming! So much so, I had to hurry up and finish part two! This one has also not been proofe read, but I still hope you enjoy!!

previous | next | series info | masterlist

Due to the sheer number of deaths that occurred during the raid, there was a mass memorial service was held a week later. Part of Yoonho felt (y/n) got cheated. Another part of him was glad they did it this way. You wouldn’t have wanted a bunch of mourners circling you, crying over you. You’d always hated that thought.

The news of you leaving a widow behind had hit the news the day after they returned. The Association was still unsure of who could have let the information slip. Jinchul had started mercilessly interrogating everyone working in the office, resulting in lots of sick days for those who cracked under his intense pressure. As a result of the leak, Yoonho had been sleeping on the burnt orange couch in the living room. He was there as moral support when you woke up screaming or vomiting in the middle of the night, but he was also there to scare off any reporters who had come in search of their next big headline. The memorial ought to keep them sated for a few days.

At the service, you were dressed in a solid black dress with a small hat with a veil covering your face. It was old-fashioned, but it looked good on you, plus it hid the redness in your eyes well. Yoonho accompanied you to the funeral and sat by you, but he gave you a moment of your own to mount the steps to the memorial to pay your final respects to your late husband. When you returned after laying your flower at his picture along with a letter of your own, he got up and made his way up.

Yoonho didn’t know why he was surprised seeing Jinwoo Sung coming down from the frame where he’d laid his flower with the ever-growing pile. The man looked utterly dejected, his face pointed to the ground. Yoonho knew from experience that great power came with great responsibility and an even greater amount of criticism from the public, who never really understood the weight of what Hunters did. The country had seen what he was capable of. Maybe not everything, but they’d seen enough to wonder why he wasn’t there to begin with. Yoonho was sure he was feeling responsible for not just Byungyu’s death, but for the deaths of everyone, and that weight wasn’t good for anyone to carry.

So he stopped him and relayed the words of wisdom that Byungyu himself had once laid on him three years ago. He made Jinwoo promise to wait for him at the bottom, and then he kept climbing.

“I’m sorry you never got to live your life with (y/n) or meet your child. I should never have brought you back in, but without you, we’d all be dead. Thank you for your sacrifice. And I promise I’ll take care of your wife and child,” he whispered, eyes caught on Byungyu’s smiling face.

He laid his white flower down on the pile and gave the man one last smile before walking down the steps and joining Jinwoo at the bottom.

“Come with me,” he said. “I want you to meet someone.”

Jinwoo looked hesitant, and Yoonho half expected the man to disappear like he was never there, but he let Yoonho lead him to the front where you were waiting. Jinwoo’s body locked up upon seeing you.

“(y/n), I’d like for you to meet Jinwoo. The man who helped save all our lives and end that nightmare,” Yoonho said.

He didn’t know you well enough to know how you’d react. Part of him was screaming that this was an absolutely horrible idea. The other part was hoping heavily that this was the right decision. That you could help one another find peace.

You turned around to look at them, your eyes watery beneath the veil. Jinwoo looked like he was near collapse, so Yoonho carefully, without touching his shoulder, guided him to have a seat in his spot beside you.

“You ended it?” your voice was weak as you spoke.

Yoonho could make out a subtle nod and he wished he could grab Jinwoo and express just how grateful he was– they all were– that he had showed up when he did. It didn’t matter that he was late. They all had their own lives, and he was no affiliated with any guild. He had a responsibility as a Hunter, but that responsibility was not commanded. He wasn’t there on the first, second, or third raids. He didn’t have a stake in the game. He simply showed up, however he did so, because he knew they were going to die. He is the only reason they all hadn’t lost their lives like so many of the Hunter’s from Japan.

He didn’t really know what he was expecting from this interaction. He didn’t truly know how you would react. Maybe for you to reassure him that you didn’t hate him. Maybe to slap him for being late. Maybe to promise him that your husband had given his life with purpose. Whatever there was, he definitely didn’t think you would throw your arms around the man’s neck and weep into his shoulder.

Jinwoo was hesitant. He never struck Yoonho as much of a hugger or someone who liked to be touched. He’d always brushed Yoonho off when the man grabbed his shoulder, then again, their very first meeting was less than ideal. However, Jinwoo wound his arms around you, holding you against his body and something inside of Yoonho’s chest rumbled.

This was his idea. The hug was an added bonus, but as he watched the tears drip down your cheeks, landing on Jinwoo’s black dress jacket, he couldn’t help but wish he was the one soaking up your tears. As quickly as the jealousy presented itself he forced it away. He had no business feeling protective and possessive over his best friend's widow. Especially when you were hugging the man who’d made his death mean something.

When the two pulled away, Jinwoo hid his face shyly as he rapidly wiped at his eyes. He was more affected by Byungyu’s death than Yoonho had expected.

He stood up, whispering his condolences and farewell to the both of you before departing and Yoonho took his seat again.

“Thank you for that,” you whispered.

Your hand found his, resting on his knee. You gave it a soft squeeze before folding your hands back in your lap and looking forward and the speeches started.

When the ceremony finished, everyone filed out slowly. Yoonho, hand resting protectively on your lower back, guided you through the crowd to where his black SUV was parked next to Jongin’s much more expensive and flashy red Corvette. He opened the passenger door and helped you in before closing it behind you and walking around to his side as Jongin and Cha Haein were approaching.

“How’s she doing?” Jongin asked, voice low even though the doors were shut.

The question was honest and earnest. As soon as Yoonho had learned about the full severity of the situation, he had phoned Chairman Go. From there, he wasn’t surprised that someone, likely the “indelicate” Jinchul had made the S Rank Hunter’s aware as they were all still shaken up and affected by the death.

“She’s… grieving, but pretending she’s ok,” Yoonho answered as best he could.

He didn’t know you well enough to be sure, but he suspected you were hiding your emotions when he was around, something he hoped to help you with as you got to know each other a bit more.

“I can’t believe he…” Jongin started, then, seeming to find it as indelicate as Manager Woo, paused. “I’m glad she has someone she can lean on. Let me know if I can do anything for either of you.”

This was not the Jongin Yoonho was accustomed to. Choi Jongin was an arrogant, selfish man who constantly held an annoying smirk across his face, but as he stood in front of Yoonho dressed in black with a red tie, there was no trace of that persona. Could it be possible that there was more to Jongin than Yoonho realized?

“Would it be alright if I came by tomorrow? I’d like to meet her,” Chaein spoke up.

Her voice was soft and delicate and Yoonho found himself giving her a respectful smile.

“I think having another female around to talk to about things like her feelings might do her some good. I’ll text you the address.”

He climbed into the driver's seat eventually and turned the ignition.

“Friends of yours?” you asked.

Yoonho nodded as he backed out amongst the traffic.

“Yes. They were there… and Chaein, the girl, would like to come over tomorrow. Is that alright with you?”

You thought for a moment before nodding.

The rest of the ride was silent. When Yoonho pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, you unbuckled and grabbed your purse from the floor.

“Are you coming inside?” you asked.

“If that’s alright with you.”

You nodded and climbed carefully out of the SUV as soon as he turned off the engine. Yoonho stayed back a moment, watching you head into the apartment building before he climbed out and followed you. You met again in the elevator, refusing to look at him, and eventually, you made it to the apartment where your hands were shaking so bad you couldn’t hold the key straight to unlock the door. Gingerly, Yoonho eased the keys from your hands and slid it into the lock, twisting it until it clicked and he was able to push the door open. You walked through the door, your whole body practically trembling now. Yoonho saw all the signs. His background as a firefighter was enough to queue him into a panic attack. He himself had experienced it a time or two. Quickly, he shut and locked the door before spinning around and placing a hand on your lower back. You barely seemed to realize he was there, and as he gently pried the purse from your hands, he caught a glimpse of your clouded eyes.

“Hey,” he spoke softly but firmly. “Look at me.”

He came around in front of you, one hand still on your back and the other now lifting to your chin. He tilted it carefully, guiding your face up from where you’d been looking ahead, and forced your eyes to meet his. Your pupils were dilated and your irises clouded over. He knew you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see or process anything. He doubted you could even hear him.

Both hands came to rest on your waist and he gently guided you forward as he stepped back, his heightened senses allowing him to look behind him without taking his eyes off yours. He guided you over to the orange couch and grabbed the blanket that was thrown over the back of it once you were seated. He threw the blanket over your shoulders, tucking your arms into it gently and swaddling you in it as best he could.

“(y/n)?” his voice was soft and calm, but it didn’t seem to jar you back.

He sat down on the couch next to you, slipping an arm around your waist and drawing you a little closer.

“(y/n)?” still nothing.

He could see unspilled tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and he finally closed the distance between your bodies. He drew you into him, spreading his legs and pulling you to rest between them fully, your body pressing into his chest. When you still didn’t respond more than letting him maneuver you, he cupped your cheek in his hand, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, keeping you pressed hard against his body as his calloused fingers stroked over your cheek.

“You don’t have to hold it in,” he spoke softly. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not hurting. You can bare yourself to me. I won’t judge you. I’ll be right here beside you through this whole thing.” As they sat there, Yoonho talked to you as his fingers continued to stroke your face and his arm held you secure. He talked to you about his own feelings. About how he missed his best friend and where the White Tigers were heading. Then he talked about his days before his awakening. The days when running into a burning building had been so normal, and how crazy it was that those buildings had become gates. Then he talked about nothing. Blabbering nonsense to fill the silence. And finally, after what felt like an eternity but was really only a few minutes, he felt your body mold into his, your face coming to rest on his chest as tears spilled freely.

“What just happened?” you sobbed.

He brought his hand up to gently stroke your hair.

“You had a panic attack that turned into dissociation,” he said. Your body shook against him, but not like before. You turned in his hold until you were face to face with him, hot tears streaming down your face freely now.

“How am I going to do this… any of this… without him?” you asked through broken sobs.

Yoonho secured you against him with his arm and drew you to him tighter until you rested your head against his chest and sobbed against his white button up shirt that had long since become uncomfortable.

“I don’t have all of the answers. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love or to lose the person you’re in love with, but I do know a thing or two about losing loved ones. It’s hard, unbearably so at first, and you never really get over it, but it becomes easier to bear over time,” he said.

He lowered his head to press a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“You will not forget him. You will always love him, and even though he isn’t here physically, and even though this is cliché as hell, he’s always in your heart,” he muttered against your hair and pressed his knuckles softly against your chest over your heart.

“And you don’t have to do this, any of it, alone. I will be here with you throughout it all. You’re not going to have to do anything alone if you don’t want to. I am here to comfort you, to get you ice cream in the middle of the night, to drive you to your doctor’s appointments, I am right here with you no matter what,” he said.

“W-what about your guild?” your voice was weak and cracked, but he could understand you clearly.

“They can manage without me for a while. I may have to check in on occasion, but they’re always telling me I work too much, and they’ll understand. If nothing else, I can ask Mr. Sung to step in as guild master for a while. It’ll be good practice for him,” he said.

You nodded against him and your shoulders finally stopped shaking.

“I want you to move in here. I feel better when you’re here, like he’s somehow here… And when you’re here… I know that everything’s going to be ok,” you said the last part at a whisper.

Without thinking twice, Yoonho nodded. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded and nestled deeper into his chest, making yourself comfortable as your tears slowly dried on his shirt. It wasn’t long after that that your breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, soft snores leaving your stuffed nose. He smiled down at you fondly.

It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms like this while she slept. Most women he met nowadays were eager to get into Yoonho Baek’s bed in hopes of witnessing the beast within, but they all left before the morning, leaving him unsatiated and hungry for a closeness he didn’t think he’d ever find. With you in his arms, his heart swelled. You were what he’d been missing. The piece of the puzzle that had yet to be put together, but you were his best friend's widow. You were not his missing piece. You couldn’t be. And he’d never tell you that you were.

He carried you to your room, careful not to wake you up. He laid you down on the bed and tucked you in carefully. You ought to change out of the dress and remove your makeup before sleeping, but he didn’t want to wake you, so with a kiss to your forehead, he crept out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

What the fuck was he going to do?

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strawberrystepmom · 3 months ago

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my favorite thing about anime is unrealistically buff old dudes like yeah this guy is 80 yeah he's sexy as fuck and broad as hell what are you gonna do about it

#every time i watch solo leveling and see the chairman of the association im like HELLO

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bookskeepers · 4 months ago

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a little bit of love ◆ chapter one

content warnings: mentions of violence/gore, mentions of cheating, probably not how South Korean court works (i got my information from a guide called 'An overview of the criminal law system in South Korea' which was on... canada's government website)?, mentions of penises, trauma !, woo jinchul IS in this chapter

word count: 2,363

author's note: heh...? reader rlly said "oops"

taglist: none yet ! leave an ask / comment to be added

previous ◆ masterlist ◆ next

The police had appeared on your friend's doorstep the next day. When she opened the door, they simply mentioned that they were there for you and that they determined your location based on eyewitness reports. They didn't tell your friend what the crime was, instead opting to push past her and arrest you in the kitchen.

You'd've been foolish if you hadn't known this was coming; through the haze of your memories, you distinctly recalled mutilating your ex-boyfriend somehow. And, unfortunately for you, your ex-boyfriend was someone of mild importance in your neighborhood, so the police moved faster than usual to get you.

The actual investigation against you hadn't lasted very long -- they sat you down in a small, tiled room to ask you questions about your supposed motive. You could tell from their phrasing that they were already convinced you were guilty of whatever crime they were informed of, since each question was pointed and guiding.

After that, the trial itself was relatively short; you hadn't opted for a jury trial, so the decision was made by a judge. You had been detained in between the investigation and trial, cited to be "unfit to return to civil life" due to your apparent awakening and lack of control over your abilities. Your lawyer did most of the speaking for you, as your evidence was presented orally. There were only four separate court sessions total despite you having confessed to the crime, since the circumstances made the entire thing more nuanced.

When word first got out, it made national news -- it's not every day that a newly awakened hunter loses control of themselves and injures someone else unintentionally, especially not in a situation like yours. As a result, you lost your job due to the sudden criminal charges looming over your head. However, you and your ex-boyfriend's fifteen seconds of fame soon faded as the case progressed. The internet was full of arguments about who was in the right, with most people on your side since you were cheated on and abused. Your personal life was aired in every sense of the word, making you feel more like an animal in a cage than a human, and it felt like the entire world knew anything there was to know about your life by the time the trial was over.

The judge had deemed you guilty, but had given you a fairly light punishment given the scenario itself: you were to perform community service under the Hunter's Association. More specifically, you were to assist the Surveillance Team in something-or-other. You hadn't been paying close attention to the specifics, overwhelmed by relief that you weren't going to spend your life behind bars.

The same could not be said for your ex-boyfriend, however -- he lost his guild contract due to his mistreatment of you and was hospitalized for quite a bit to ensure his newly grown penis (courtesy of an A-rank healer) was working as intended. You had heard through the grapevine that it was extremely malfunctional, and you had taken a private moment of glee in response.

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The verdict had been delivered two weeks ago. Now, you stand in front of a mirror in your friend's apartment, dressed in the best business-casual attire you own. A loose white button-up, a pair of black leggings, and a crepe blazer that dangles over your frame. You find yourself once again grateful that your friend had agreed to host you until you were able to find your own place, despite it all. You make a mental note to buy her lunch later, thankful that you were able to save while you were stuck in that awful relationship. After all, your hunter ex-boyfriend had insisted on paying for everything to appear more "masculine" to whoever may have been watching, whatever that meant.

You take a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, straightening your blazer before pulling your bag over your shoulder. As you make your way out of the spare room and into the entryway of the apartment, you stop by the door to slip on a pair of low wedges to complete your outfit. You leave your slippers by the shoerack.

It doesn't take you long to reach the main building of the Hunter's Association. Upon your arrival, someone at the front desk whisks you away to a different building across the street, telling you that you need to be evaluated before your community service can actually begin.

You spend a good chunk of the morning waiting in the queues, trying to maintain an air of patience while you ignore the stares aimed at you. While you may have faded from national headlines, your verdict had been public and the case itself had been considered "juicy" for lack of a better term. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together to figure out who you were.

Right before noon, your name is called and you shuffle into the evaluation room. The giant sphere in the middle intimidates you, and you feel a pit of dread begin to form in your stomach when the attendant instructs you to place your hand on the surface of it. Some brainwashed part of you whispers that you hope you're not an E-rank, despite knowing that's impossible; you were able to harm your C-rank ex-boyfriend, after all. It's only when the attendant lets out a soft sound of surprise that you look up at her with a tilted head, a questioning look in your eyes.

"You're an A-rank," she says with a bright smile, and you wonder if they're trained to deliver all news with that expression. "In fact, you're on the upper end of the spectrum! Congratulations on your new rank." She gestures you over to her so you can look at the screen dictating your power levels. The graphs and images don't mean anything to you, however, so you decide to take her at face value.

"An A-rank?" you echo, confusion lacing itself in your tone. "That's... wow. I didn't think..." You trail off, struggling to get the words out.

The attendant seems unbothered. "If you're lucky, maybe you'll get scouted by a major guild!"

Her optimism sinks its claws into you, and you give her a weak smile. "I don't think that'll happen," you say earnestly. You've never heard of anyone with a criminal record being recruited by one of the big five. Besides, you have a stint with the Hunter's Association that has to be completed before you can even consider guild recruitment.

You thank the attendant for her time and head out, picking up your Hunter ID on your way out. You retrace your steps, crossing the street once more and re-entering the Hunter's Association HQ. The individual behind the desk herds you into an elevator this time, pressing the button for a floor higher up in the building. Soft music fills the tense, awkward silence between the two of you as the elevator ascends.

The muzak doesn't do much to quiet your thoughts, which are currently spiralling out of control. Ever since the incident, you had been trying to make sense of these sudden new powers, trying to see if you ever felt the sensations of those abilities manifesting since then. Simply put, the answer was no. In the past several months, there had been no itch in your fingertips, no sparks of red-hot rage. To be quite honest, you aren't even completely sure how awakening works -- you honestly think there should be more incidents similar to yours, because how often do people awaken with perfect control over their abilities? How did people even learn how to use them?

As if the universe itself is trying to answer your question, the elevator dings softly and the doors slide open to reveal a long hallway. You can faintly hear bustling and ringing phones off to your left, and you suppose that's where one of those huge offices with cubicles is. The secretary gestures for you to follow as they lead you down the long hallway, past the door you're sure leads to those cubicles. There are two rights and three lefts on your route, and you're working on memorizing them before the secretary stops in front of a door that matches all the other doors you've seen thus far.

"You can wait in here," they say, albeit not unkindly. They open the door with one hand, and you can feel their eyes on you as you walk inside.

It's a fairly average-looking personal office; there's a mahogany desk in the center, with giant windows as the backdrop. A swivel chair sits behind the desk, along with a neat stack of papers next to a monitor and keyboard. Several meters in front of the desk are two sofas across from each other with a coffee table in between. The walls that aren't windows are lined with tall bookcases, and closer inspection reveals that most of the books are about hunting, raids, and mana. The other few are fantasy novels and science fiction novels, which comes to you as a mild surprise.

The secretary closes the door behind you with a soft click, and you take the time to inspect the room some more. On the desk, there's a silver placard with the name "WOO JINCHUL" written in bold letters on it. The handwriting on the paperwork is extremely organized, as if whoever wrote it took extra time to ensure it's legible. The monitor isn't displaying a screensaver and the PC it's attached to is hidden out of view, but the rim of the screen has several sticky notes detailing important dates hanging from it.

You run your fingers along the placard, feeling the grooves of the letters. The metal is cool to the touch, and your hand comes away completely free of dust. You're beginning to form an image in your mind of this Woo Jinchul when the door suddenly opens rather loudly without warning, frightening you.

In your state of panic, your mind flashes back to the times your ex-boyfriend would do the same, usually with the intent to shout at you or worse. The itching in your fingers suddenly returns full force, and you find yourself firing off another one of those airblades at the newcomer. You let out a strangled "watch out," thinking about how you're about to have yet another criminal charge on your once-perfect-now-ruined record.

To your relief -- and perhaps shock -- the newcomer makes a slashing motion with their hand, and the incoming attack dissipates. Your knees suddenly collapse beneath you, the fear coursing through your veins too much to bear. It takes you several long, silent minutes to calm yourself. Once you succeed, you cringe at how awful of a first impression you just made on this individual.

"Better?" the person asks, tone polite and plain. The voice is deep and masculine, pleasing to your brain.

You blink a few times, taking the time to actually look at him. He's tall, clad in a black suit, and his blondish-orangeish hair is slicked back save for one curl that rests against his forehead. He's too far away for you to determine the exact color of his eyes, but from your vantage point you can see that they're on the darker end. His frame is broad, and something about the way he stands suggests years of experience at doing whatever it is he does. He also exudes a slightly intimidating aura, made worse by your embarrassing interaction just now.

"Um, yes, thank you, sorry," you manage to say, although your voice is not much louder than a mumble.

The man makes a show of dusting himself off before striding across the room and sitting on one of the sofas. He gestures to the couch opposite him. "Sit."

You pick yourself off the ground, wincing at the pain in your knees, and obey his command. Now that you're closer to him, you can tell that his eyes are a shade of violet. Pretty.

You swallow the lump in your throat, willing your voice to be louder this time. "I'm really sorry about that," you begin. "The door... startled me, and I don't have the best control ov--"

He holds up one finger, and you find yourself stopping mid-sentence. "Don't worry about it. I've dealt with worse." He leans forward, reaching his hand out over the coffee table. "Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Woo Jinchul, and I'll be your... case worker, for lack of a better word."

"Case... worker?" you echo, confusion laced in your tone.

"I'll be the one overseeing your community service," he clarifies. "I'm the Chief Investigator of the Hunter Association's Surveillance Team."

You blink, all these words making sense separately but not together. "So... that means...?"

Jinchul raises an eyebrow at you, perhaps the first sign of emotion he's outwardly displayed since stepping foot in the room. He slowly retracts his hand once he realizes you're probably not going to shake it. "It means my team and I keep an eye on hunters and investigate raid-related incidents when necessary."

You nod, things finally clicking into place. "I'm guessing I'll be helping you do that?" you finally say.

"Eventually. Firstly, I'm going to help you control your abilities. Then we'll see about fieldwork."

You note that he has a very straight-to-the-point way of talking, and he excels at keeping his voice even to ensure it doesn't betray his internal feelings. In fact, you can't actually get a read on how he might feel about this whole situation, as he's been nothing but polite yet somewhat cold during your entire brief interaction. Nothing about the way he's acted thus far suggests he's repulsed by you, at least.

"That's good, at least. Maybe this way I won't accidentally kill anyone for opening a door loudly," you joke.

The silence that follows your words is deafening. You find yourself wishing that there were at least crickets in the room, as their chirps would be more responsive to your comedy than Jinchul is.

After a bit, he just lets out a small sigh. "I look forward to working with you, Ms. Sun."

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