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traveller.
" A thousand worlds, separated by jagged chasms.
Standing above the helpless victims; below the faceless spectators.
The Reboot is Limbo. "

Bang Yongguk | Scientist

Tracking: #rebootsurvivor

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chjnhngxblueblood:

Junhong smiled at the other. “It’s nice to meet you too.” He kept smiling though the moment felt a little strange. He’d said hello first but he hadn’t thought of anything to say after that. “I have a hyung named Yongguk.” He felt like an idiot.

At the mention of another male with his name, Yongguk felt like laughing. Of course there’d be another. This was not a world he belonged in, let alone his world to begin with. “I’m not surprised, Junhong. It was given as soon as I entered this existence.” This time, his smile curls, almost appearing to hide the most precious of secrets.

chjnhngxblueblood

His brows furrow a moment at the hesitation but he brushes it. His smile is nice. “I’m Junhong..”

He’s lost. Although this individual appeared to hold quite the jovial atmosphere about him, Yongguk couldn’t help but use a polite and awfully formal uptake. “Pleasure to meet you, Junhong. I— I’m Yongguk?” 

Posted on Apr 26, 2014
Tagged: #chjnhngxblueblood #;r #;conversation
enkku-blog asked: Angst please!

Generated Number: 9

Your muse finds my muse in the shower, shaking and bleeding after being raped.

It will be alright. He told himself that over and over with the scalding water running over his tattered body. No one will know. He chanted to his broken self, his body threatening to collapse instantly. Yongguk stood shivering underneath the heated liquid, stomach prepared to heave up the nothingness left within him.

How could such an act happen to him of all people?

Swallowing the thickness within his throat, Yongguk turned the water pressure up higher, sighing softly at the numbing feeling that rose with the heat. No matter how much water he let slid down his body, the blood wouldn’t leave. No matter how much he scrubbed at his shaking limbs and torso, he could not rid the dirtiness that came with such a punishment of humanity.

What had he done?

Yongguk’s eyes burned, ignorant of the tears that flowed. His body shook uncontrollably, the thinning trickles of blood doing nothing to his consciousness. Oh how he had wished that he lost enough to die. His eyes fall shut, tired — so tired of the world.

And so he watches it all again.

He saw the greedy gazes he received. He saw the slowly dwindling proportions of personal space. In time, the numbing effect of the steam washed off, leaving nothing but the hands, some rough, some slender, running about him. All over him.

Violating him.

Destroying him.

He heard the demands, the moans and the soft growls for more. He could even hear himself, so disgustingly taken in by the situation. He hears himself beg for it all to end. How pointless such a request was. As he opens his eyes, head drooped, Yongguk runs his gaze over his mutilated body. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. So tattered, beaten, bitten, scratched and time knows what. 

He wasn’t Yongguk. He was a crying, grotesque mess.

Again and again he pushes his bruised fists against the tiles. In frustration and self-hatred, he was certain that, even with the barely damaged wall, his hand would barely function for the next few weeks. Yongguk didn’t care — his mind was long gone.

All that was left was a disgusted, human ghost.

Why?

Every time he closed his eyes, Yongguk only saw the lustful commands that were thrown at him. They were barely commands, for despite his protesting, the forcing him into such humiliating acts. Could his life not end where it was already? Clutching his shattered self, he cries, legs barely capable of supporting his frame.

“Yongguk— you left your door open.”

It was such a gentle voice telling him such selective words. He couldn’t fall apart for someone who seemed so fragile already. Pushing himself off the wall, he turns off the water, the cold punching tremors into his already shaking frame. He reaches out to leave the shower. To hide his hideous form.

“You’re in here—“

I know. I’m disgusting.

”What?”

Yongguk begs with his eyes, his voice hardly a whisper to the silence. It hurt to speak, let alone be seen in such a form. Sure the warmth of his blood began to soak about multiple aspects of his body. Yet it wasn’t such that mattered. The dirtied ghost that resided within him bled the most.

They’re still here. They still don’t think I’m disgusting enough, do they, Sho?

Posted on Apr 25, 2014
Tagged: #;r #enkku
chjnhngxblueblood-blog asked: He tapped the other on the shoulder and he smiled. "Hey."

Yongguk turns to be greeted by a rather tall, however, seemingly innocent individual. He hesitates for a moment, thoughts running to his ridiculous organizations and special agents. Throwing that aside for later, he tugs on a quick smile. “Hi. Um.. You are?”

Posted on Apr 25, 2014
Tagged: #chjnhngxblueblood #;r #;conversation
chjnhngxblueblood-blog asked: Angst Please

Generated Number: 7

My muse has just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. How will your muse react?

How much time til you — pass?

I don’t know.

Didn’t — didn’t he say anything?

He said about a few months.

Silence filled the gaps between the two. The exact duration of a few months was not questioned, for as long as it could be, it would not be enough. It feels alright, to be honest, to know approximately when you’d die. Yongguk doesn’t mind, yet the boy in front of him obviously did. Yongguk had given up caring too long ago.

So you’re going to leave me to my own devices in a few months?

Yeah

Again the silence bites. Was it worse to not care for death or was it worse to defy destiny? Yongguk would never know. Something about promising to watch or play games was brought up; however, it hadn’t caught Yongguk’s attention. Instead, the soft, scared voice tugged at him. Quickly reaching over, a hand drops itself onto the boy’s head. It’s an awkward move, but what else was there to do?

Dragging his fingers through the coloured locks, he draws on the most believable smile he had remaining. Images of another world flood him. If this were the one where no terminal illness hit him, where was the world that he did not such sicknesses? What were the variables there? World lines and attractor fields didn’t matter though — the worried individual by him was of greater importance.

Hey. Don’t worry — I’ll be back. I can just feel it. It won’t exactly be me — but another me.

Such was a lie to comfort such innocence.  If he were to return, it shan’t be the same male that Junhong had known. If he were to return, then the purposes may not be of the greatest benefit. Of course, at such mental prompting, Yongguk’s faltering smile had once again caught the latter’s attention.

It wouldn’t be you.

It’s one of me. They’d probably have my memories.

It remained unspoken between them. There was the anger that both held. One for the lack of time spent on their slowly growing friendship and the other for the lack of promises the other had to keep. There was fear and sadness between them.

At least I’m leaving earlier. How selfish was such a thought. Yongguk couldn’t care less. He had hurt enough individual with his own prior acts. At the very least this selfishness meant that the world shan’t be manipulated by the passing Reader of Time.

I’m sorry.

A single tear, shed for a friend, rolls down a cheek. Too distant a moment to interrupt; too cruel the situation to continue.

You’re not.

apxthexsis-blog asked: 'Angst please'

Generated Number: 10

Your muse walks in on mine while they are sobbing, holding a gun to their chest.

His breath stutters, clogging as they pass his throat. He had played this as a game many times before. It was what told him that life was worth living.  This little activity, demonstrated the worth of all the pain that flooded him and bled him of hope.

Yongguk always played this game when the pain became too much. Over and over again, he’d stand there, grasping the barrel of the firearm against his chest. Over and over again, he’d run the same, haunting faces of death through his mind. The tighter he’d clutch the gun the farther away his thoughts would go. He’d never have the courage to finally end this game.

With this particular game, Yongguk’s seated on his bed, fingers laced with the trigger. They push lightly, teasing the trigger each and every time. As the images built their vividness, his breathing grows shorter, faster and more panicked. In his mind, all he sees is the cry of a single soul.

Before he realised it, there is a warm liquid gathering at the corner of his eyes. Hysteria. In hysteria, the cries being to formulate. The pain that weaves itself in such an intricate pattern with his voice dances about his room.

I’m sorry

I didn’t mean to

Please —

He writhes where he sits, body hunching over as the energy leaves him. Forehead pressed against his knee, Yongguk realizes how tightly he had held the firearm. His finger is locked around the trigger. The only thing that clings onto his life is the safety. Lifting his weary soul, he glances down at the gun.

Go a little further

The loneliness that shreds humanity to pieces is his punishment. The torturous waters of the sodden below shall be his hell. And with such thought, his own hands, that forced another to live death a million times before, shall be the ones to present a life for forgiveness. As long as Yongguk is alive, one soul shall not rest.

Safety off. You can do this.

With blurred vision and tattered breathing, a shaky digit raises itself to fumble about the safety lock. At this point in time, another arrives. The voice starts off in joy — so sweet and melodious. It then falls simultaneously with Yongguk’s pain sown smile.

“Yonggu— “

This voice began to falter. This voice slips as footsteps approach the seated figure. As the clutched firearm is turned against his heart, Yongguk mouths the darkest of words. A word that holds so much sincerity, yet so many lies has tainted it. Jerkily, the tear sickened mind of Yongguk’s forces him to press the nuzzle of the gun deeper into his chest.  If the bullet shall not kill him, then the barrel itself shall pierce his unworthy soul.

He pulls.

Whatever his mouthed words were, the bullet didn’t harm him. Whatever his words meant, the nuzzle didn’t end the game.

I’m sorry

It comes out as hitched sobs through a voice that could barely manage coherent words. Yongguk was so close — so close to finally finding freedom. And yet, here he was, sprawled against the bed, clutching the gun in one hand and shirt of a friend in another.

Jongin, please don’t.

Warmth spreads quickly on his wrists, calming his thought at the slightest degrees. A strange wrath fills the male’s eyes, as if daring Yongguk to try such an act once more. Such a face said too much. Such a voice, pleading him to return asked for too much. As his sobs loosened into whimpers and muffled cries, the grip on the gun faltered and fell against the cotton of his blankets.

A moment of relief. A moment that lost all tension. Jongin pulls himself up, watching as the figure lying down clear his thoughts of all the pain. That is, until a single smile appears — just as hurt as before.

Voices stayed.

He chose to leave.

Posted on Apr 25, 2014
Tagged: #apxthexsis #;r #[ nope what is angst ]
xenocidere-blog asked: whispers Angst please <3
Generated Number: 2
My muse is curled in a ball on the ground, screaming in pain and calling out for help. Your muse comes to the rescue.

No more.

Please —

I’m sorry 

Have you watched as the one you cared for died? It doesn’t even have to be at such a level. Have you watched as the one you loved departed? It hurts, doesn’t it? Imagine this longing and nostalgia piercing the heart over and over again. Imagine it multiply itself by impossible factors.

No one can contain the pain.

Please —

Smiles, laughter, blood and tears ebbed through his system. The more smiles he saw, the louder the screams became. He died in too many worlds. Yongguk was forced to relive the pain too many times.

Would it ever stop?

Yongguk is alone. He’s curled up and screaming, begging to forget everything. The silence echoes his pain, emulating it to ghostly moans. He deserves to be alone, after the amount of times he forced a single life to face death. All he wanted to do was take care of everything, to solve all the problems. He went to ‘fix’ the problem over and over again. He refused to believe and accept this death.

After thousands of failures, Yongguk had tried to forget everything about this death. And now, all the images had returned. All the chocking horror had returned to steal him of his very last breath. He cried, punched and whimpered for it to lock itself back up.

These memories.

He tried to laugh away the existence. At first. He tried to forget. At first. Of course, seeing his current pain, it hadn’t worked. And so he screamed. Screamed for it to just end. Not only was this tearing at his ghost, but it was breaking him on a physical level.

Yongguk could barely stand.

Curled into this pathetic ball, a weary piece of humanity, Yongguk is lost. And he deserves this — he knows. All he wants is for this to end. If an ending meant his death, then so be it. If an ending meant screaming till there was nothing left to scream, then so be it. If he were to live through these deaths instead of watching them pass, then let him die. At least then, he could be at rest.

Just as another smiles, so sweet and pure, flickers across his mind, his voice is back. His voice is back to its low, broken tone, crying for darkness.

No more

He throws his fists onto the ground before they open to dig his nails into the carpet. It isn’t blank or pained expressions that push another nail into his heart — it is the smiles and joy that used to come before such expressions that did.  

“Yongguk?” 

A voice break through the hoarse screams. It does not reach anything though. Alas, the screams continue, bringing a shudder towards the approaching figure. 

Make it stop.

Footsteps hasten as a figure approaches Yongguk. Without any question, the figure’s arms are wrapped around him, holding him tightly in hopes of warding off these memories.

They’re all just memories. They’re all elsewhere — not here. You’re alive. He is alive. I’m alive. Everything —”  Yongguk rises from his foetal position to clutch at the figures shirt. He couldn’t care for who it was. Humans can’t survive in loneliness.

Taemin doesn’t need questions, answers or tears to tell him what is wrong. He has seen enough of Yongguk, seen enough death himself, to understand this pain. Yongguk is only human.

I’m sorry. 

bngyg:

Yongguk’s eyes narrowed when he watched the other walk towards him, his face getting more and more in focus. He hadn’t spoken to his brother in years, so it surprised him to see Yongnam here. Or… The closer the man got the less he looked like Yongnam. The cheeks, the eyes, though eerily similar, they were more like his own. Besides, Yongnam wouldn’t come to him, so that was weird in itself. What the hell? 

The thought of walking away kept coming back to him, a shiver down his spine telling him that was the clever thing to do. He was too curious, though, so he remained where he was, taking in the man’s appearance.

Crossing the road was fine, seeing that the male’s features were not in focus. However, upon reaching the male, it was obvious that confusion had made its way into each and every feature. Could it be that there were attractor fields where he, as an individual, had not been troubled by time leaps?  To think that a mirrored image had not gone under such mental influences was quite shocking.

I know this is quite strange, meeting yourself and all, but I have an explanation for all of it.” Yongguk pulls up the most sincere smile, hoping, praying to whatever deity that stood above time would allow this version of himself to understand. At least they were not dressed the same way — it’d be worse that way. Doppelgängers were scarier in each and every world line.  

Posted on Apr 24, 2014
Tagged: #bngyg #;r #;conversation
archived-jinseinoai asked: Dream
Dream:My character will have a dream about your character

In a world where time does not move according to its many laws, Yongguk’s thoughts wonder. They drift and float, dipping deeper and deeper into the realms of true unconsciousness. Although he had surpassed the Reboot Line quite the while ago, it had always conquered his subconsciousness. No matter where he’d run, where he’d scream and cower, there’d be no one to ease the isolation.

And with that, he seats himself, far within the dream. He stares blankly at the changes that pass with every alteration of a world line.

Yongguk loses himself within insanity.

That is until something appeared. Someone of chocolate brown and soft colours bobbed in the distance. Someone of pure melodies and visible changes. Someone that Yongguk could finally converse with.

Hello?”

Yongguk pushes himself up from his seated position. He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. He walks, following the direction of the figure. Could he have finally drifted away from the Reboot? Could he have finally conquered it mentally?

As the figure of soft colours and prominent browns got closer, the melodies grew stronger and clearer, a crescendo to the usual silence.  Again, Yongguk calls out. This time, the figure turns to reveal a smiling female, lip curled in to the sweetest of smiles.

How? How did you get here? Before that, actually, who are you?”

And so another voice fills his dreams for the first time.

Minkyung — Kang Minkyung”

Posted on Apr 23, 2014
Tagged: #;drabble #;r #jinseinoai
221

Intriguing, though unknown.

No true words have been shared with you. No true thoughts had been thrown against tangents. Nothing but a memory from another thread or a quick surveillance has stated your individuality.

I know close to nothing about you.

Yet, here you are, driving me deeper and deeper into curiosity.

You don’t appear too frosted, or heated. So what could it be that drills this curiosity to run on? What is it that brings me back to learn more about you? Despite creating a thought that I see you as a potential test subject, an endless amount of question have stacked up as a result of observation.

Shall I ask them?

Or shall I watch and wait as they are answered by the various actions and words of yours?

Passionate, yet silent. A panther is what you remind me of — cool, sleek and careful with their movements. Any similar animal would not suit you, for they don’t appear to hold the same desire to search, or in their case hunt. Others do not appear to naturally harbour a frosted façade.