#龍 : 𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 / interactions.

[hymnoire]

       @dcrkfcngs liked for a one liner !

"Have you come to break my heart love? I know it was just a kiss, Remy. I liked it yeah but don't worry, I can tell you're into men. We can go easier on the cocktails next time."

[hymnoire]

It is ugly, it is. It is human, it is. Mara listens to his words as a sweet composition of honesty and reassurance, hope and encouragements. It is rare for a woman like her to receive these : not because her coworkers or the few friends she has wouldn't say the words but she simply never reveals her frustrations and insecurities for anybody to tend to them with care. Inspector Lim Mara is known to be cocky, to break rules, to play dirty, to get what she wants and to gloat about it. Fearless, covered in a pride that must remained untouched. It does feel good, to have an ear, one who actually listens when she's vulnerable. She smiles briefly as he mentions the power she already has, the one she can't see : she does - however easily blinded by wanting more and more. "Mmmm I do hope this man will screw everything up, that they all will realize I was the better choice, that my hard work until now will speak for itself. It sadly is the type of position you keep once you have it, and that, no matter the mistakes you make. Our system is a little broken like that. It has its perks as much as it has its downsides." Indeed, to get promoted is difficult in the Force, to get demoted is just as rare - a simple mistake, even when intentional, is not enough for the biggest names to lose their pedestals. Mara too sometimes gets away with it, it would be oh so hypocritical of her to promote morals here and now. "Thank you for your advice, darling. For listening to me, too." Her words are wholeheartedly meant. Perhaps it is not over for her, perhaps he is right, perhaps if she proves herself one more time she could still guarantee herself a place at the table. Mara wears a tranquil smile on her lips as it travels her mind. His next line however does catch her off guard even though it isn't his intention. Her real voice he says? There is no sign of panic when she does realize she has dropped the act for the past few minutes, instead Mara decides to use his remark to smoothly dance her way back to the Mask Girl stage. Her chin now into the palm of her hand, her elbow down the desk as she leans forward, her eyes on the screen, her blonde hair swaying. "How can you be so sure this was my real one?" In order to toy around, play around with him, she pronounces that line in a total different voice, and surprise, with accent in her english that is not quite her korean accent. This voice is on a different octave and tempo, not as deep as her actual voice, not as light as Mask Girl's, slower as well, and the accent? South American. It is to show him she could wear any colors, any sounds, any moves she wants to. But hell, her being half portorican makes it easy to speak like a latina. "Don't you like this one a little more?" This line is almost whispered. Indeed, Mask Girl is an expert when it comes to blur the lines of the fantasy behind that mask of hers. "I can sound the way you want me to sound, Mon chéri." The smirkish smile she has on her lips does not wither when he asks what job position she is aiming for. Ah. Mara currently working in the cyber crime unit wants to get promoted to the homocide unit : bigger cases, a bigger rank, a bigger salary. The online network of extorsion against cam girls she is currently tracking was supposed to be her way out of cryber crime unit, her ground breaking success that would get her access to anything she wanted. The timing hasn't been so good on her. Now. Could she truly tell Tylio that she works for the Force so casually? Even with wanting to phrase it differently, it would be firing a bullet in her own guts but to hint on the creation behind Mask Girl's entire universe and lore. "Mmm, didn't I just say? A position that would give me enough power for my hunger to be satisfied..." Is the answer she gives him, now her free fingers drawing circles down the desk, her slmile widening. She won't give it to him, even if he asked for it.

Suddenly.

There is a knock on the door.

The interruption makes Mara's eyebrow raise. She doesn't expect any visits at such a time, not at her place, not during a week day. There is a moment of slience, she lightly freezes as soon as there is another knock following, pressed. The timing is bad as the camera is on, she's simply hoping the visitor will go if she doesn't give any response. The room Mara performs in has been emptied, organized, especially for Mask Girl to exist - the front door of her two bedroom apartment seems far enough for one not to hear the noise coming from it yet close enough for her to have a doubt about it.

"Delivery for Lim!"

And what she feared happened : the voice of a man behind the door then calls, shouts even. Heat. Rush. Her heart is racing as the tension is heavy in the room, her eyes fixated on the screen. Her throat turns dry, her blood spins inside her veins. Her last fucking name just has been pronounced. Tylio.. did he hear any of that? There is no word coming from Mara's mouth as her finger lands on the escape button, fast, canceling the call. On Tylio's screen : Mask Girl disappears. FUCK. She stands up and immediatly takes off what she has on : the wig, the mask, the jewerly - everything is ripped off and thrown down the ground violently.

Her steps are fast, heavy, furious as she runs to the door and opens it, her eyes full of rage landing on indeed : the delivery boy. Every night Mara has her dinner delivery programmed for 9pm. Isn't it too early for it?

"You're FUCKING early." Mara yells at the man, her fist banging against the doorframe in anger. This is Lim Mara - far away from Mask Girl's delicacy and florish language. A move that takes the delivery man aback.

"I ... am sorry but I do have a delivery for Miss Lim Mara at 9pm. So mmm.. h-here it is.." The man says, uncomfortable, handling her the paper bag.

Fuck. It slowly comes back to Mara's spirits that today, Tylio's call took place later than usual due to him coming online a little too late. Their calls are usually scheduled for 7pm, they last one hour, and end at 8 : it's their little routine by now. Mara's hands rip the paper bag out of the delivery man's hands to slam the door to his face. Her mind is slow these days, slowing down as she goes, spinning, not fast enough for her to keep up anymore. She is standing in the middle of her apartment's corridor realizing : her not sleeping, spending the night working on her secret case, existing as Mask Girl while simultaneously acting functional as Lim Mara during the day - it is completely messing with her cognition, her focus. Sloppy, she becomes sloppy. Mara hurries back in, as the wig and dress still lie on the floor, sitting behind her computer again, tossing the paper bag on the desk. A delivery for Lim. The line got spoken in Korean. Tylio does not understand korean, does he now? Or perhaps his ear is sharpened enough now to at least catch a last name. Lim is low in the list of common last names in Korea : there is more than 40% of the korean population's named Kang, only 1.7% named Lim. Well, that is still big enough for it not to be a hint. She hopes. Mara is typing now, as fast as she can, opening again all the forums, social media threads, blogs reporting every detail on Mask Girl. Her fingers tips are rubbing against her eyelids : perhaps he just didn't hear it, didn't understand it, if he did, would he share that, publish that? It's too small anyway, isn't it? But well, some creeps have posted screenshots of her moles so her entire last name is actually pretty big next to that... Her brain is foggy. No. Now is not the time to get paranoid out of absolutely nowhere. She has to focus. They have an online conversation, she opens it. After leaving the call so abruptly, he must wonder what just happened.

[ to T-Lio ] I apologize mon Amour.

[ to T-Lio ] I had to leave.

[ to T-Lio ] Mmm we still had 25 minutes left, that isn't fair on you. How about we catch up on them another day? Don't be mad at me, yes? 💋

Right. She has to fucking go to bed. Take a nap. Rest. Assuming he didn't understand a word but not tempting the devil by questionning him nor raise attention on something he shouldn't focus on too much : this can never happen ever again.

[hymnoire]

"You've tracked me down here?" If only her past could remain in the past. The enemies of her father, Alejandro Guerrero, were many back in San Juan. The cartel he was in, they made way too much money before it all crashed and burned into a mess that made most of them run out of the country. To have escaped from San Juan and change her name apparently wasn't enough, the mistakes of a man like her father would forever follow her. Mara will always remain Maritza Lim Guerrerro, daughter of an international drug trader, a family of criminals. "What is it, he owed you money? Is this what you're after, my money?"

[hymnoire]

The palms of her hands down the desk, her eyes are resting on every single piece of evidence gathered : photos of the women both Doe ( @mythvoiced ) and Mara have managed to identify as trafficked in the network of sex workers she has been tracking for weeks now. If Mara could gather the profiles of half of them, the other half came from Doe and his own investigations : as a way for him to prove how serious he is on his offer, he wants to help.

"Impressive." The word is meant. "I know you got this whole anarchism, fuck the system, death to the monarch vibes going on for you but : you would make a good inspector. You did a good job." It always is a dangerous line for her to walk : Detective Lim Maritza works alone and insists on working alone. Trust, she refuses to give to the first man in a suit pretending to seek Justice and fight for a brighter world. Yet after weeks of back and forth between Doe and her, she must admit, he's an asset. "You're serious about helping these women, aren't you?"

[hymnoire]

"Your feet are freezing!" chiwon @ mara :) the other bed-sharing options were too sweet; chiwon is going to complain the whole time... ( but secretly she is feeling oh-so-cozy and safe when her and Mara share a bed 💛)

"Oh Yeah? You like my cold feet? You want more of them?" Mara replies on a cheeky tone as she turns around in the bed to face Chiwon. There were nights like this, nights of sleepovers just the two of them here in Chiwon's bedroom. The sheets are comfortable, the bed frame is of quality, a comfort that could pass as the perfect illusion of not being stuck in a recorated prison cell. Out of playfulness and quite frankly just wanting to annoy Chiwon even more. Mara entangles their legs under the blanket, only to press her feet even more against Chiwon's, perfect knowing the other will fight back. It does make Mara laugh to mess around, making sure she keeps her feet on Chiwon's no matter how much the other tries to dodge and push her away, using hands to remain in place and letting out laughters of chaos making. After a small game of tangled limbs and legs, she slows her teasing down as she still faces Chiwon in the dark. The blanket is right above both of their shoulders, keeping them warm in their matching white cotton night tanks and shorts. Their eyes are connected under the dimmed lights of the corridors bulbs as Mara's fingers reach out to Chiwon's hair. Whenever together, Mara forgets about the cruelty of the world they left outside, the one they left behind, the unfairness and the violence that lead her to become what she became, a pariah, a murderer. A part of her did not want to ever be released, to just stay here in this microcosm of concrete they made their queendom out of. It was as twisted as delusional, to think this reality was the sweetest she ever knew - however - this gentle illusion made her nights peaceful, lulled by a feeling of being exactly where she is supposed to be. There is this game of theirs sometimes, one she likes playing with Chiwon where they imagine a complete new life for themselves : new identities, new names, new daily routines, incongnito and free. "I found a name for our store. So how about At Chira's? It's the combination of our names like Chi for Chiwon and Ra for Mara-" She pauses, her eyebrows bending slightly. "Oh wait no.. Now that I say it out loud, it sounds like some crappy restaurant where only serve a bunch of retired yakuzas-" She then speaks, her index finger still twirling with the other's lock gently. "The Wonders of Chiwon and Mara? Ugh- Yeah now it's a strip club- " A laughter escapes from her lips. "God you know what, we should just open some shady business, at least I got ugly names fitting for that," Mara adds in a joking tone, a sleepy laughter following. There is a silence she leaves before carrying on, her eyes drifting a bit, breaking the eye contact with Chiwon however, their faces remaining close. "Hey..." She whispers again, in a tone that's almost impossible to hear. "... If we get out of there, I mean, when we're free and everything, you won't leave me behind right?" The grand Inspector Lim Mara, back in the days used to stand high and strong, wrapped in an ego of praise and notorioty and status. The episodes that followed in her life however proved to Mara how everything and everyone she ever knew simply turned their back on her. Despising her, walking away from her, not daring to pronounce her name anymore for her sins. Even her very own mother. "... You won't go away.. Yeah?"

        bed sharing starters:    still accepting.

[hymnoire]

"Oh so you came all the way here to drink my beer and question my methods? Fun." She speaks, stealing the bottle from the other's hand in half a pissed yet playful way. The type of conversations Mara did not like to have, at all. It was known, yet only whispered in the shadows in the corridors, or behind her back at the corner of a smoke break that the ethics of the notorious Inspector Lim were questionable. Her efficiency was the only justification for the hierarchy to close their two eyes whenever she did abuse her power. To the ones who truly knew her however, there was no doubt the glory, the ego, the appeal of her name on a piece of paper was driving her to crave of solving all the unsolvable cases, her way. A way for which she was putting herself in situations that could incriminate her, put her behind bars one of these days, or worse, a bullet in her head down the Han River. Be it. Mara learned not to care too much, perhaps corrupted to the core, blinded. An attitude that one day might cost her. "Or do you worry about me or something?" A smirking bend at the corner of her lip as she takes a sip. "I'm a big girl remember, single handled the Hongdae drug bust, yeah, aaaall by myself. Guess I'm not like the other girls."

[hymnoire]

Detective Lim Mara always is in places she isn't supposed to be. On the underground scene, behind many traffics are hidden pretty piles of cash and handshakes between the detective and the biggest names of Seoul's crime scene. The money, the glory - is driving Mara to always take more and more dirty alliances in the shadows but not only. She has fun, when downing glasses of neat whiskeys and loud laughters exchanged with these men. They respect her as an alley straight from the Force that's been Oh so precious for them to stand away from the repercussions of the Law. As long as you have Lim on your side, you're safe to do whatever the fuck you want. Last night happened to be another night of satisfying business, to the Gangnam Union quarters this time, sharing a drink with the higher ups as usual, getting her cash and disappearing to her next stop : in her long leather jacket. Something unexpected happened however and hasn't left her mind ever since : there, she crossed the eyes with a familiar face, Detective Ahn Junho @jiiansblog. Now, what one should do when running into a fellow coworker around such dirty corners of the city? They did not exchange a word, both knowing it was not the time, not the place. It did not smell so good for Mara, she however was confident in her ability to could come up with another lie to cover her dirty little business. She waited the day after, sure she would run into Ahn back to the presinct : she didn't. Nor the day after, or the day after again. Her only way to find out was to go back there, in the heart of Itaewon, not so far the Gangnam Union's headquarters to spot Ahn again, to follow him from afar, to keep an eye on his demeanors : he seemed to be one of them. Mara immedialy thought of an undercover operation he might have been involved into, she needed confirmation. The man seemed to have completely blended into this universe. It took her a couple hours to wait for him to be completely alone, by the corner of a street, blocks away from the Gangnam Union to make sure nobody would see their interaction, her back against the wall. It didn't take much time before he walks past her. "Well." Mara simply says to get his attention, for him to turn around, for him to look at her. As usually, she wears her long leather jacket, all dressed in black, her hair loose. "Would have bet we had more chances to cross paths at the goddamn karaoke but here we are. We should talk." Mara speaks, a corner nonchalant smirk on her lips, the type of sly smiles she always has one - her arms crossed against her chest, her eyes on him, from head to toes. "What are you doing here?" To ask first is to prevent him from questionning her right away. It gives her a step ahead.

[hymnoire]

Him choking on his beer is the type of reactions she loves - from the joking and teasing she can't help but throw through their serious conversations. Of course a loud laughter escapes from her. However the second Garam says he's Not Interested, Mara keeps on playing, placing her hand over her chest and exaggerating a shocked facial expression. "What? You're saying my shows aren't worth your time? You know what, I don't believe you. I know you would looove to see a little bit of this..." Speaks Mara, mimicking a typical dance move with her hands cascading down her body like she would do for Mask Girl. "And a little bit of that," adds Mara trapping her breasts between her forearms through her shirt and swaying from side to side, again in an exaggerated way before laughing again. "Oh come on, the shows are meant to an end but you could at least give some appreciation to my art. I've been voted Most Natural Tits last week, based on shape and bounce. You should be proud."

The opposition between their two methods is real : meanwhile Garam would have insisted to play by the rules, Mara only ever follows and relies on her instincts and guts. There is therefore absolutely no way one would agree with the other. However, it's the common ground between both of their visions that is interesting, if Mara brings a little more of Let's Risk It All, Garam's fair share of You Better Be Careful does make her think twice, especially in this case - depiste being reckless, everything he says is saved in the corner of her head. Who else was at her tail besides the perverts online? Have the leaders of that network been chasing her too? Was the Force itself keeping an eye on her? "I know. " Her serious is back. "The Mask Girl being so public means all eyes are on her - and some eyes that I might not even suspect." Does that worry her? It does. "But we both know it wouldn't be the first time. Even as an Inspector myself, I got Oh So many dogs ruminating my name, sometimes from behind bars, other times from their little rat holes in Itaewon. I've always been a woman with enemies. Do you know what I do so they don't get me? I get them first." Confident. Cocky. "See what's embarrassing for me is that you don't even think I can close that case." Her head is titled to one side, eyebrow raised, she means it. "Come on Lee, believe in me a little here." She speaks. "Mask Girl has helped me get behind the scenes faster than I could ever hope. I've seen the business for so close now that I know how it works. Chats, talks, forums, intel, stories - and recently, a lot of noise about some of these girls going missing. Look." Standing up, she walks across the room in order to enter the other , a room she uses as some sort of office. After a minute, Mara comes back with a folder between her hands, back into her seat back, right next to him, opening some pieces of evidence down the coffee table. "Every single one of the girls here is involved in that network." Pictures, informations, profiles, months of work are gathered here. "I have interacted with many of them as Mask Girl. Their lips are tied but I managed to connect a few dots and now, I'm starting to think the mothership is bigger than we thought. It isn't just an online business, these girls are also physically involved with - I believe very very bad people. At first I thought, some crappy hostess club in the city? Ok, which one, where? It feels like I've been searching for a place that just does not exist. A club isn't so hard to find yeah? Who owns it ? The kangpaes? The yakuzas? The chinese? Who can be so good at covering their tracks, it's impossible for Me to locate?" Her fingers then reach for a small enveloppe from the folder : it's white with red ink that says La Rose. " I settled a PO Box for Mask Girl no less than a year ago and she got this. An invitation to La Rose. And finally I got it, it's not a club I'm looking for, it's something bigger than that. La Rose, it's a secret society." Her lips widen into a satisfied smirk. "Do you know what that means? Politicians, Media moguls, Bankers, the fucking President circle, the goddamn Yohans of this world, they all might be involved in all of this. I don't know if it's that simple, I don't know if La Rose is the honey pot yet but I know it's connected. This could change my career. This could be bigger than Burning Sun." There is a pause then, a thought, her eyes on him. "I'm gonna go there, you know that. Will you be by my side when I do?"

[hymnoire]

       @crescentphased sent !

In the distance, the sound of two girls arguing can be heard. Chiwon and Mara were listening in, the drama their only form of entertainment in the evening cells, where no televisions played. Chiwon giggled as the catfight turned physical, one of the girls shrieking curses as she accused her opponent of stealing her ‘man’. (who was actually another girl in the prison, very much not a man…) besides the sound of the fight breaking out, it was a peaceful night. Chiwon’s kingdom was kept in order… and in the quiet of their shared dorm, the prison queen shows a vulnerability to Mara that no-one else sees. “Mara…” her voice sounds unusually girlish and innocent. “do you ever worry what will happen, when you’re released?”

Mara couldn't help but to laugh out loud at the sound of this fight going down the hallway. Not only it was their only source of entertainment, Mara also particularly enjoyed watching it all boil up and then, explode. In this prison, she quickly turned into a bruiser, known to be Queen Chiwon's hell hound to the point nobody would dare to pick up a fight with her. How boring is that. "I wanna go down there, check if she got her good but bet it's just them pulling on each other's hair like drunk prostitutes on new years eve custody." Mara comments with a scoff, too comfortable to move from the shared bed with Chiwon. At the sound of her name, Mara's eyes connect with Chiwon's as she listens, closely. Her question echoes as one she does ask herself yet tries to never face an honest answer to. A vulnerable sphere exists in between the two, one for them to share to the bone until they are fully stripped of their secrets and fears. A sad smile is drawn by the corners of her lips. "Well... I do." There is a pause then, pensive eyes darkening at the reminder of it : the world outside. "Whenever I try to picture what awaits for me, all I see is blank. Every single soul I ever crossed path with, every one I ever cared for, ever loved, ever considered as a friend, as family... they only see a killer when they look at me. An animal. A sinner beyond redemption. Something so inhuman they cannot bare to even talk to me. I have lost it all after trying for so long to make something out of myself, to become someone. My status. My reputation. My house. My everything." A pause, as she looks down, her memories of a past life that don't even feel like belonging to her anymore. "I don't know who I am anymore, outside of these four walls I share with you. I never want to say I'm scared... But what if I am? Scared to face the loss of respect in society's eyes. I'm not ashared of what I've done, I would kill that man again. I would bring him back to life just to shove the knife through his neck ten more times than I did when they found his body completely unrecognizable but fuck. Do I deserve to be alone, rejected after doing what was right to defend myself? To survive?" Her words end in almost a defeated whisper, a sigh, her eyes connecting with Chiwon's again. "What about you love, are you scared?"

[hymnoire]

       @ofgentleresolve liked for a one liner !

"Can I spend the night? I just... I kind of fucked everything up today and let's face it, it's not like I got anywhere to go. Not being completely alone right now sounds good."

[hymnoire]

☎️ Mara?

"Hey stranger." Her voice is slow, a little raspy, a little less steady than her usual, even though a lazy smile is hearable through it, as if disturbed thoughts of blood running down her hands are endlessly crossing her mind, preventing her from sleeping in such a tardive hour, in the middle of the week. A little intoxicated, a whiskey on the rocks in her fingers, in a background sounds of glasses clinking and sliding down the wooden surface of a counter. "I don't even know why you're the one I'm calling. I just found your number in my pocket and I thought... Yeah, where is the company? I was expecting to find you here." A sip on her glass followed by a long sigh, there is a melancholic melody of perdition in the atmosphere of her voice. "We haven't finished that talk, from the other night. That talk about... The people who killed, who kill and who will kill again. What's the price for taking another life? What's the price when one doesn't feel guilty for the slighest, does that make them ... bad? Corrupted? Demons? Evil? Will heaven ever fall on their head while hell take them whole?" A slow laughter escapes from her throat, the type of Am I even making sense? Type of laughter. "Fuck." The word is barely whispered, like an inner call to prevent her own mind from spiralling. "Are you not coming tonight?"

        ☎️ for my muse to call yours:    still accepting.

[hymnoire]

"I'm soooo in love with you I would lie to the world?" Mara asks. "Can your pretty eyes and... your rosy cheeks and... your delicate perfume corrupt me like this mm?" The answer is obviously yes. "That makes you the biggest criminal I've ever faced. You're a dangerous woman." The sun is the best way to clear their heads, Mara believes. Feeling it on her skin is good, even more so with Remy's fingers laced together with hers. They always have been close in their group of friends, however, after last night, it does feel different. More intimate Mara thinks, looking down on their joined hands. If the fresh air feels good for Mara, Remy is struggling a little bit, cllnging to Mara's arm, whining and complaining which makes the other laugh in endearment. "Alright, alright, let's get you something to drink and to eat before you pass out." Mara speaks before then taking care of getting everything needed for them to eat and drink : the tonic she's asking along with mandus and chopped mangos to share, a picnic. Soon they sit down the banks together, in the grass, facing the river in this tranquil sunday afternoon. Nobody around, just the gentle wind, the birds and them. It's peaceful. "Let's lay down. You can rest your head on my shoulder and tell me everything about your crush, how about that?" Mara says, holding a hand out to invite Remy to lay in the grass and stay comfortable with her.

[hymnoire]

"Ughhh why does he always have to behave that way-" Mara answers with a mocking scoff towards Jaesung's lame shenanigans. "So, nothing is actually going on between you two, I was just like... Just checking." Even though she tries to shrug it off, Mara can't help but be glad to hear that. "I say you deserve better than a man who doesn't even know how to approach you. Little boys. All of them." Remy's whining and well, the pouting are cute. Everything about Remy is endearing. Perhaps Mara's weak spot has shown a little too much yesterday night. Remy isn't the only one to blame. "You know you can get me to rob a bank and run away with you in the sunset with these eyes, you cute little devil." Answers Mara her head leaning towards Remy a bit, their foreheads almost touching, a smile on her lips. "Let's go. Street food by the banks and fresh air to clear our heads, come on you lazy baby. " She says standing up, her hands then catching Remy's for her to come with her.

[hymnoire]

"Don't apologize. Maybe if you did that, you really wanted to, mm?" She speaks, playful, teasing. How could Remy possibly apologize when Mara enjoyed every second of it. A laughter then follows to the other's words. "Of course you're a good kisser, Rem. Your lips, they're soft. I like your scent a lot, too." Admits Mara in a whisper, looking at Remy's lips again before looking down. "Let's just not tell the gang I guess. Especially not Jaesung, his crush on you is ridiculously showing and, you two have hmm.. Gotten close... Right?"

[hymnoire]

You can tell me things, he says to her. A side of her feels it : she can. There is this twisted form of intimacy they share, a place where he is allowed to aim for any of his fantasies, through her, a place where she can use these fantasies to feed on, through him. A world that exists away from society's judgemental eye. A world for them to exist fully, as they are and want to be. There is something dangerous however, about revealing herself a little too much to these men starving for a piece of her. 'Who is Mask Girl?' - a forum she found a few weeks ago, fans, proud members of the cult they created for her, gathering thoughts, screenshots, theories, anything they could find on her, truly. At first, it made her feel satifsfied with this fame she did not plan on, men appearing so fascinated with her they would spend hours saving the tiniest of her moles in order to make hour long discussions on them. Then came the surprise of realizing some of these desperate detectives are actually quite good at it, tracking her fake IP addresses, reconstructing her apartment from the smallest pieces of it they could see on screen. Could they truly find her? They won't, she believes, time is running out already, she says. Mask Girl will disappear, as soon as the case is over, Mara will have to kill Mask Girl. Can she, truly let go of the Mask? Her question to him is real : will he forget about her, once he's gone, or once she is gone? To his words there is a smile on her lips, one that she did not control, one that errupted quite naturally. To be remembered, to be loved, to be adored, to exist, the Mask represents all of it to her and he, reminds her of it, right here, right now.

In her little games of seduction, Mara is clearly fishing for a reaction with discussion the show he missed. "Mmm, I'm not sure when I'm planning the next show but everyone loved it so very much, I might actually make it a weekly tradition, how about that? It comes as a surprise however, that he declines the offer of a private dance, one just for hil. There is a reaction : she is taken aback a little, her head titling in surprise. "Oh?" Her tone is slightly disappointed. What is it, she wonders, that makes him say that? She believes any of the men she interacts with would die for such an offer. Has she said something? Done something? That made him like her a little less? Thoughts travel through her mind, her eyes changing tones, from honey to something a little darker, as if her pedestal took a hit. Her hands are resting over her jewerly, a little frozen on her spot as he calls her elegant, beautiful again yet she is still wondering : why? If Tylio's wanted to make her more real, to turn the Mask girl fantasy into a human being, why would she want the contrary, to turn him into a fantasy instead of the human he is? Perhaps there is a fear, that the more human they are, the closer she is to Mara. Would he like Mara just as much as he likes Mask Girl? "A favor?" Emotions are dancing on her features as he questions about her day now, her mind still stuck on the previous interrogations. He is quicker than her right now. For these private calls, her mask is shorter, it only covers her eyes : perhaps if he never stops watching her, he does see the morphing, from her persona to herself as her head is invided with thoughts. To be asked about her day is common, at the end of her shift at the police station, the girls from the narcotics unit when they run into Mara in the corridors or perhaps that one Uber delivery boy who is definitly hitting he - but it was never meant. People don't ask you about your day in order to actually know about it but simply to make conversation. She finally understands though, Tylio doesnt want her to dance nor to strip nor spread her legs on camera, he just wants a conversation, an honest one. The way he is honest, too. Mara sits down again after showing her jewerly and dress off. She is looking at him, thinking about him. He really is different, isn't he. In the other private calls she accepted, the men often were animals who just wanted to jerk off, she would never accept them ever again. He might be one of the good ones. He's sweet, she thinks to herself, smiling to herself, just a little.

"Mmm my day. Well, let's see..." Mara starts speaking. Her voice has dropped a few octaves. It's deeper, her real one. "There is this position. I really wanted it. I worked hard for it, I gave everything I had for it and today came the announcement of who hierarchy chose for the job. They gave it to someone else. A man. It made me feel really angry, I have a better score than him, I do, truly. It made me feel underappreciated. Sad, even because that position was mine. They even promised it to me, only to gave it to someone else when the time came." Mara is a fighter. From her youngest ages, life never gave her anything for free, she had to step on everyone around her, to break the rules, to put her life on the line to get what she wanted. "Why did I want it so badly ? I questioned myself. I know it is for the power that comes with it. I like power. It makes me feel good, very very good. Having to fight every day for something you believe you deserve : a job, a smile, respect, love... It is exhausting. I just want to live in a world where all of this would be given to me. And I think : If I'm powerful enough, it might." A melancholic smile draws on her lips, her eyes leave her screen, travel down as she tucks her blonde hair behind her ear. Blonde hair, that is a wig, of a high quality but still not her natural hair. If she looks down long enough, her brows can be seen for a slight second behind the mask : brown brows, Mask Girk is a brunette. Far from the extravagant oversexual blonde her persona is, she is just a brunette, in the white t shirts she wears with no bras and her blue jeans. " Would you say it's a little ugly of me, for me to like power so much? That's what people say about me." A scoff escapes from her mouth. He always calls her beautiful, he eats her words like nectar and poison. She doesn't' want him to say No just to reassure her. Right now, she doesn''t. "You can say it's ugly."

[hymnoire]

How ironic it is. If this man is paying for a smile, a kind word, the company of the type of girls he would never have by his side, Mara, too, is feeding on him. Like gentle vampires for affection. He calls her Mon Trésor and these are the words nobody but a man at the other side of her screen ever called her. Trésor, treasure, means something valuable, to protect and keep for himself. His smiles are bashful, there is embarassement as well, it's sweet, he's sweet. There is timidness in him that makes her wonder if he truly is used to such interactions. Perhaps no - she isn't either, it gives their exchanges a certain candor through this online connection. Something a little sheepish, something a little pure, even. It is different than if they met at some bar, drinking, playing a lazy seductive game and fucking in the nearest cheapest motel. With the men Mara did that with, she left right after one round of disappointing sex. You're leaving already? One would ask. Yeah. She would answer, cold. Well, can I like.. Call you or something? They would ask. The sex sucked. So. No. She would answer, her leather jacket already on, checking her watch to count the hours left before her shift in the early morning at the station. The fact T-Lio couldnt touch her, have her, the fact she was rare and unattainable to his eyes made everything feel beautifully forbidden. As if, he if ever had the chance to touch her, he wouldn't just fuck her, he would try to make love to her, she imagines him in bed with her, a little too excited, asking for her consent before every single one of his move, treating her like a goddess he can't believe he gets to be inside of. He would hold her afterwards, whisper to her, ask her if he made her feel good, if she's not cold, if she needs anything.

She lets out a small laughter at his french line, not understanding the words but getting the spirit of it. "Mmm. When was the last time you actually did then, eat a homecooked meal? Had a warm plate waiting for you at home?" She questions, her chin burried into the palms of her hand, her eyes connected with his through the screen. Since how long was he alone, since how long did someone take care of him, since how long did someone give him warmth. Mara happens to wonder all this : for how long were people like him and people like her condamned to walk down a path of going home to a silent house before ending up here, with a mask and a pseudonyms?

Naturally, mara moves then, pushing her back against the chair, a little more distance between the screen where more of her upper body is disaplayed. Her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulder and breasts, her legs crossing in that dress of hers crawling up her thighs. She listens to him of course, to how it's hard for him to be here - a foreign man in korea just like she was once, when a little girl, moving from San Juan to here. "I think it was a little cruel of your bosses to send you all the way into a city with such cultural gap, mon coeur. Us korean yes, we speak fast, we live fast and the way to socialize, connect, build something beyond the surface is a little harder too when you come from a different land. But..." Mara smiles at this last line. "You can always talk to me. About the faces you walk into, about the things you see, the things you feel, even the dirtiest, the craziest. Because then... I can tell you these things too, right? If we have secrets." The line is a test, she is curious to see how he would respond. Can a complete stranger keep secrets better than your upstairs neighboor? Something she believes that yes, when two minds like theirs are marginalized, there is no judgement, no matter what she says, no matter what he says. "How long are you staying here, in Korea? I realize that, when you're gone, we won't be able to talk every day like this, you won't forget about me, when you're back to your country?" Another smile strikes on her lips as she compliments her dress. "Do you like? I'm all glittery today because mm I put up a whole show, I danced and I sang old korean songs as well but hey! You weren't even here for that, come on where were you!" Mara teases with a little bit of a complaining tone knowing perfectly he would have killed to see her dance, of course she uses that to toy with him a bit. "If you ask nicely though, I could dance for you, how would you like that?" Mara then adds. Nicely means with nice words but also... for money. It isn't that Mara needs that money to survive, it's different. Money given to her not for her job but simply to exist, to be pretty for him. It is new. Her who only sports jeans and leather jackets in the daily, it feels liberating to cover her skin in the luxuries she gets for him. It excites her to receive it, the money, excites her to spend it, it excites her to ask for more. There is no wish to leave him destitute and with nothing to eat no, it's simply, the eyes he has when she shows him her new clothes and items, he makes her feel beautiful and precious. Mara extends her hand to reach for a small bag she flashes to the camera with a wide smile on. "Well well you guessed that right, Look, I got pretty jewerly today. It's Tiffany's." Her fingers are now unwrapping the item, as she places it close to the cam to show him it has a pendant. This one is ridiculously expensive and oh she adores it more than she thought she would. Then she bends towards the camera, moving as close as she can for him to have a clear view on her neck. With her hands, she pushes her hair to the side, uncovering her collarbones, her skin, clear and soft like milk. It's then time to lock the necklace around her neck. Her fingers are delicate. "Mmm I'm struggling..." She speaks in a little bit of a laughing voice. "If only you could lock it for me. I know your hands would be gentle on my skin." She then whispers in her voice of honey, her mouth close to the microphone as the screen is still only showing her neck. Then, her finger caress the length of it, her fingertips pressing the chain against her skin, slowly, now her lips on the screen too. "How do you like it on me?"