#📌same deck of cards... (au)

[polaroid-angel]

>[While sipping away at a rather mediocre coffee, Coworker looks up to see... another himself? No- this guy isn't quite him, hair's too long, and the clothing he's wearing is... yeugh. Coworker stands, approaching curiously but warily]

"Uh, excuse me sir?"

>[He waves slightly to get his attention, the look on his face only worsening when he sees just how perfectly his the facial features of the other man are.]

"...Oh yikes."

>[ @classified-coworker]

Valefar was reading a book on reincarnation. His eye narrowed, his expression serious as he studied every word in the book.

"... so why...?"

Before he could ponder any further, he heard a familiar voice. His own.

He turned to the grey man, stunned by his appearance. Not that he didn't mind the monotone. Oh no, he looked...

Eugh.

"Hm? Thou look ill, and exhausted, too. Dost thou rest at all?"

[polaroid-angel]

> "My, what a sorry sap you have become."

He's back at it again, exploring histories as they are not meant to be. His presence is often-so, sinister. Looking the man up an down, Rexer let out a small, but mocking chuckle. He looked ridiculous.

> "If I am not mistaken, you must be... Valefar, correct? Is that the foolish name this realm has bestowed upon you? I must say, you are much different from many other despicable look-alikes such as yourself..." (@protagonists-catastrophe)

"Nay, I bestowed that name upon myself."

How interesting.

This man looks seriously sinister.

He made sure to play it safe with this man. Anyone who resembled Porter was usually very... shy. But this one had a more oppressive aura to him.

No, he would dare to compare him to the Director.

"Though it be suspicious that thou knowest mine name. Who art thou?"

He asked, fiddling with the crystal hanging delicately from his neck.

[polaroid-angel]

74686520736561

With orders in hand, June’s eyes catch on a young man, white hair, one eye covered in a bandage. Just like the description. But he’s not alone. Others crowd around him, and she can’t tell if they’re all together or not. 🍸 “Hi there.” She smiles, charm sliding into place effortlessly. “I’m a singer, and…”

Her voice dips lower, like she’s confessing a secret.

🍸 “I’m a bit embarrassed, but I’m low on cash right now... Do you think you and your pals could listen to my song for a dollar?”

God, why is she doing this? It’s humiliating. But she keeps the smile anyway, as if the words didn’t sting her pride.

[[ @wordsofthespirits ]]

An artist. Forcas always appreciated those who dabbled in art—musically or painting. Yet he could sense something was wrong with this girl.

Hey. Take caution.

He kept his hands pocketed, smiling at the woman politely as he fixed up his hair.

"Good day to you, Madame. Of course, I'd be willing to listen to your song."

"I'll even share it to my friends, don't worry."

[polaroid-angel]

An embarrassing encounter. One he wished he had forseen, unfortunately, the Angel was missing and could not be contacted.

For now, he spent time and wallowed in his own pitiful mistake, allowing an asset so valuable to the Director to slip from his hands like grains of sand.

And he too, had to lie about it. Not that it was hard.

"I-I'm fine, considering the circumstances..."

His eyes were not focused on this individual. He had an odd look. Almost mystical, but pretty normal.

The golden eye he had is the strangest thing about him.

Now he's completely fucked up. If the Angel wasn't missing, this wouldn't be an issue, but not only did it mean a potential leak, it also meant his safety had been compromised—considering what he had encountered, his fear was justified.

Timekeepers are one of a kind, after all. You don't usually make another one.

He was visibly distressed, acting very differently from most who looked just like him. If he had his eyepatch, he wouldn't be complaining, but no. No, no, no. That's far beneath him now.

( @polaroid-angel )

((🩵: hi hi!! Don't mind if I take a while to respond,, I'm redoing Valefar's sprites rnn!!))

[polaroid-angel]

"... Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten to inform the Director."

Valefar's breath hitched, he was nervous, it could be heard over the phone.

"M-My coworker... isn't too much of a threat, but he's basically my bodyguard just- just don't get too pissed about this—"

"Tell him about the Director's response."

"R-Right, yeah. The um... the Director... he's approved of your contact... i-if you want... anything, just tell me, okay?"

This was not a conversation he wanted to have... nevertheless, the same number called. A personal one.

"H-Hey, uhm... so... my coworker found out about you... nothing bad! He's in the same rank as me, everything's fine...-"

"Who're you calling, Val?"

"I-It's that Tanner guy..."

( @polaroid-angel )

"...As I've heard."

"So, can you tell me exactly why he found out about me...?"

>[He can hear Porter's voice in the background and scoffs, though he corrects his tone to something less... hostile.]

"I mean- if I remember correctly, our deal was to be directly between me and Mr. Director, with you as a middleman, yes?"

[polaroid-angel]

Valefar Zayne scratched at his neck, his eyebrows furrowed as he resisted the urge to cry. He got lost, of course he did, it was splendid timing.

But what was more terrifying was the fact that this stranger knew his name, or the name he was going by so that people didn't bring him back to his family.

"H-How do you know my name...?"

He asked, pulling at his ridiculously oversized sleeves.

"A-Are you part of th-the church!? Please, don't tell them I was here...! Don't bring me back, please...!"

He's stuck in that time, back when he was a child.

"... H-Huh...?"

Disoriented. He hadn't intended to walk into the church's forbidden door yet he did. It was just curiosity.

He didn't mean to intrude.

"I-I... I'm sorry..."

( @polaroid-angel )

> "Hmm?"

The timekeeper turns around, eyeing yet another invader of his space. Upon being glanced at, there was a scent of familiarity with the small being in front of him.

One specific crybaby who'd beg for his friend to come save him.

> "You've come a far long way from home, Valefar... Curiosity killed the cat, you know. "

Rexer doesn't approach, but rather, he sits down in his chair. In his hands, he holds a plump chinchilla, made from the stars. Its nose twitches as it scuttles around the time keeper's lap.

[polaroid-angel]

Valefar  does  not  notice  this  spirit.  Instead,  he  continues  to  gloat  about  his  achievements,  making  grand  gestures  and  acting…  far  too  childish  to  be  an  investigator. 

 “Cowards! I do beseech thee, reveal thyself!”

Are  you  getting  second  hand  embarrassment?  Because  I  am,  holy  crap,  he's  so…

…  extravagant.

Compared to the previous investigator, this peculiar one was more fond of ghosts. He had an eager aura to him, smiling quite like an idiot as he looked around, boasting about his feats to lure out a particularly strong ghost.

“Hark, spirits! Mine name is Valefar, and I am here to seek proof that beings such as thee do exist, and if I be correct, to engage in combat with one of thy kind!”

He's asking to be humiliated and humbled...

( @polaroid-angel )

>[Smoke began to fill the room as a ghostly humanoid emerged from the darkness. The ghost was just minding his own business until he spotted Valefar from afar, to which he was inclined to approach.]

["How strange. We've been getting many visitors lately."]

[polaroid-angel]

He takes the hand and shakes it gently; its eager words were a pleasant sound to listen to, and he was mildly amused by the answer it gave.

Unless it had a strange sense of pride with its job, then the compulsion to mention how amazing of a job accounting was either a lie or an unsettlingly convincing truth.

...

Whatever it was, Myeong Hoon didn't care about it.

"It must be a good job if it's pleasant for you!"

For the pitiful passerine, anyway.

He explores the space a bit more. The walls were the same as always, the same boring beige color killing his eyes with the ugliness of its shade only further accentuated by the warm light.

However, it looks very different from his office space. It is welcoming—too welcoming.

"You're very proud of your job, I see..."

What an obvious observation.

⠀⠀⠀"  it's  a  pleasure  to  meet  you,  mr.  dan  !  "   and  with  warm  words  comes  the  offer  of  a  handshake  —  hand  held  out  with  a  slight  tremble.   to  this,   it  seems  to  pay  no  mind,   wholly  focused  on  the  man  before  it   ;   staring  as  it  always  does,   unblinking,   unmoving. ⠀⠀⠀there's  a  satisfied  hum  that  follows  his  words  —  clara  is  lovely,   she's  always  due  for  a  compliment  !   —  before  an  eager  reply  ;

⠀⠀⠀"  i  work  in  accounting  !  i'm  an  accountant  !  "   how  delightful  it  is,   to  declare  that  it  has  a  real  job   ;   that  it's  finally  made  a  place  for  itself  among  the  worthy  …  ! 

⠀⠀⠀"  it's such an amazing job  ! ♫  "

[polaroid-angel]

Oh. Now this was a problem. This was Director related shenanigans—he could not really speak to him at all.

If Tanner wasn't around this posed a huge issue.

"... er... pardon? What dost thou mean by 01 and 0932? Thou canst not be jesting with me at this moment..."

He sounded tired, not to mention the audible noise of paper shuffling told more than how he restrained himself from talking.

There is a call from a number. Expected, after all, these two were contacts, it was only part of the deal, no? It was late in the night. Concerning, maybe, but still. A yawn could be heard.

"... Hail. Pardon mine intrusion... I do keep myself awake at this hour."

It must be important since he doesn't usually call.

( @polaroid-angel )

"...Hello? D-0932 speaking. Apologies, but the man you are trying to contact is currently... busy."

"What business do you have calling 01?"

>[The voice on the other end is similar, but not quite Tanner's. But.. who is this 01?]

[polaroid-angel]

Oh, that siren was unusually loud. While he was curious, he focused his attention on the birdie in front of him.

Might as well do what he usually does; analyze and answer. It asked for his name, ever so politely, and so he shall answer accordingly.

"I'm Myeong Hoon Dan. Feel free to call me Mr. Dan, however!"

He's intrigued. This man was a mirror of the harsh coworker he worked with; he won't admit, the similarity disturbed him quite a bit. He doubts that he'll be able to maintain eye contact with Porter for a while.

...

It just blinked.

He awkwardly coughed away the silence with another question. Information is always useful, regardless if he needed it or not.

"Clara, I see... she is a lovely piece of work. What do you do here?"

⠀⠀⠀…  a  visitor  ??? ⠀⠀⠀the  news  might  have  been  received  with  confusion,   once  upon  a  moon  —  free  time  spent  in  an  office  you  don't  work  at  ?   now,   though,   pride   (   or  something  adjacent,   anyhow   )   is  what  threads  its  smile  ;  because  of  course  someone  would  want  to  visit  an  office  as  lovely  as  this  one  !   a  building  of  opportunity,   of  blessings  upon  earth  —  ! ⠀⠀⠀"  my  name  is  —  "   it  starts,   words  characteristically  cut  -  off  by  a  siren's  well  -  timed  blare,   "  —  it's  a  pleasure  to  meet  you  !   you'll  have  to  thank  clara  for  our  wonderful  space  !   she  really  is  a  sight  to  behold  !   " ⠀⠀⠀a pretty one, perhaps. not  beautiful.

⠀⠀⠀"  oh  !   pardon  my  manners,  "   it  gasps with a start  ;  "  i  never  asked  you  for  your  name  !   who  are  you  ?  " ⠀⠀⠀…  …  … ⠀⠀⠀when  was  the  last  time  it  blinked  —  ??

[polaroid-angel]

Was he... new? Here? Well, he wasn't an employee but why would he lie? He crossed his arms, listening to its pleasant chirping.

"Not quite... I'm just a visitor..."

He made sure to maintain eye contact with the odd person.

Observing their eyes and polite demeanor, this little birdie was interesting; it stared at him with such empty eyes, and while he was compelled to pull his gaze away, he found himself drawn to it.

"This is such a beautiful office space... who are you, and would it be impolite to ask where you got the decor?"

⠀⠀⠀it’s  sifting  through  spreadsheets  when  a  voice  fills  the  air   —  an  unfamiliar  one,  it’s  quick  to  note.   was  that  a  new  employee ?   a  new  hire  for  the  accounting  department ?   what  a  pleasant  surprise !   it’d  only  be  polite  to  say  hello   …   and  so  it  rises (   however  shakily   ),   skims  the  office  space   — ⠀⠀⠀…   ah !   there’s  a  face  that’s  just  as  unfamiliar.   it’s  quick  to  pad  over,   even  quicker  to  stop,   and  with  a  ever  -  present  smile  and  wave   ;

⠀⠀⠀"   good  afternoon !   ♫   i'm sorry to bother you, but i don't recognize you,   "   it  chirps   ;   "  are  you  new  here ?  "

[polaroid-angel]

Yeah, Valefar figured he'd respond like that. The question about his jaw also made him flinch. Words like that always carried some sort of animosity behind them, whether veiled by compassion or mockery was up to Valefar's malleable psyche.

"... thanks."

The word came out through such a weak whisper, it was irritating to have to ask him to be consistent with the volume of his voice. And despite how tough he seemed, he always crumbled because of something, and so to ease his worries he placed the lollipop back in his mouth.

He pulled at the collar wrapped around his throat to scratch at the skin beneath it. It already had a pink patch, a rash that has been there for a while.

"Yeah, this is better. Thanks."

Now he's completely fucked up. If the Angel wasn't missing, this wouldn't be an issue, but not only did it mean a potential leak, it also meant his safety had been compromised—considering what he had encountered, his fear was justified.

Timekeepers are one of a kind, after all. You don't usually make another one.

He was visibly distressed, acting very differently from most who looked just like him. If he had his eyepatch, he wouldn't be complaining, but no. No, no, no. That's far beneath him now.

( @polaroid-angel )

((🩵: hi hi!! Don't mind if I take a while to respond,, I'm redoing Valefar's sprites rnn!!))

[polaroid-angel]

"... it's... what I'm told to do."

"I-It's... it was a gift from my mother... I... don't want to take it off because of that."

He's now pulling at his bandages. Why were the rashes coming back... maybe it might just be his recent change in outfit, or it might just be him.

Was he upsetting him?

"... am I making you upset?"

Now he's completely fucked up. If the Angel wasn't missing, this wouldn't be an issue, but not only did it mean a potential leak, it also meant his safety had been compromised—considering what he had encountered, his fear was justified.

Timekeepers are one of a kind, after all. You don't usually make another one.

He was visibly distressed, acting very differently from most who looked just like him. If he had his eyepatch, he wouldn't be complaining, but no. No, no, no. That's far beneath him now.

( @polaroid-angel )

((🩵: hi hi!! Don't mind if I take a while to respond,, I'm redoing Valefar's sprites rnn!!))

[polaroid-angel]

Hooded figure? But there's many people wearing hoodies... Ah, whatever.

Ey, ey, AYE.

He listened, captivated by the beauty of her voice, yet something within him remained untouched. Despite the melody's grace, it felt hollow, as if her words carried no emotion. For all their charm, they failed to stir his heart.

"(... what a beautiful voice... still, something feels off about the way she's singing.)"

His golden eyes swept languidly over her gown, a cascade of blues and pinks like the fading hues of twilight, twinkling with starlight.

With a quiet sigh, he folded his arms, shifting his stance as her voice filled the air.

The melody was perfect in its execution, yet bereft of the passion it should have carried. And yet, as he glanced at the crowd, they were mesmerized, hypnotized by a magic that seemed to miss him entirely.

Even the hooded man behind him seemed entranced.

74686520736561

With orders in hand, June’s eyes catch on a young man, white hair, one eye covered in a bandage. Just like the description. But he’s not alone. Others crowd around him, and she can’t tell if they’re all together or not. 🍸 “Hi there.” She smiles, charm sliding into place effortlessly. “I’m a singer, and…”

Her voice dips lower, like she’s confessing a secret.

🍸 “I’m a bit embarrassed, but I’m low on cash right now... Do you think you and your pals could listen to my song for a dollar?”

God, why is she doing this? It’s humiliating. But she keeps the smile anyway, as if the words didn’t sting her pride.

[[ @wordsofthespirits ]]

An artist. Forcas always appreciated those who dabbled in art—musically or painting. Yet he could sense something was wrong with this girl.

Hey. Take caution.

He kept his hands pocketed, smiling at the woman politely as he fixed up his hair.

"Good day to you, Madame. Of course, I'd be willing to listen to your song."

"I'll even share it to my friends, don't worry."

[polaroid-angel]

Caution. Valefar's eyes widened in brief shock from the man's sudden tonal change.

"Yes, but it's not your fault."

He always did something wrong. What was it this time?

"... I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Now he's completely fucked up. If the Angel wasn't missing, this wouldn't be an issue, but not only did it mean a potential leak, it also meant his safety had been compromised—considering what he had encountered, his fear was justified.

Timekeepers are one of a kind, after all. You don't usually make another one.

He was visibly distressed, acting very differently from most who looked just like him. If he had his eyepatch, he wouldn't be complaining, but no. No, no, no. That's far beneath him now.

( @polaroid-angel )

((🩵: hi hi!! Don't mind if I take a while to respond,, I'm redoing Valefar's sprites rnn!!))

[polaroid-angel]

"I-I don't... I don't..."

"I don't deserve this."

The words hung in the air like some sort of curse.

If he's done everything perfectly, why was he upset? He had been given a nice little treat for his amicable behavior, a treat he found so sweet he caught himself wanting more.

His hands shakily wrapped around the man's back, stroking his head and petting his hair.

His breath is shaky.

Does he deserve this?

Now he's completely fucked up. If the Angel wasn't missing, this wouldn't be an issue, but not only did it mean a potential leak, it also meant his safety had been compromised—considering what he had encountered, his fear was justified.

Timekeepers are one of a kind, after all. You don't usually make another one.

He was visibly distressed, acting very differently from most who looked just like him. If he had his eyepatch, he wouldn't be complaining, but no. No, no, no. That's far beneath him now.

( @polaroid-angel )

((🩵: hi hi!! Don't mind if I take a while to respond,, I'm redoing Valefar's sprites rnn!!))