#(edited to add the detail about time baby!! ty for reminding me)

[ckret2]

quick question: Which one E is and which one is S (Bill's Parents) And which one has the tophat and bowtie? And Is S the red one or the blue one? I'm seeing S as both colours on tumblr. I'm confused. And I don't have my book of bill yet

Here's what we know:

There's a code in the book that translates to "HIS DIMENSION NOW DECEASED SCALENE AND EUCLID REST IN PIECE."

if you enter these names on the website you get the message "lifeform not found," confirming that they were the names of lifeforms

a picture on the website shows baby Bill being held by the staticky silhouettes of two triangles. One of these triangles has a top hat.

a message on the website says that in Theraprism's art therapy Bill just draws blue and red triangles.

In a story on the website, Time Baby says "WHAT WOULD YOUR PARENTS SAY IF THEY COULD SEE WHAT YOU’VE BECOME. WHAT WOULD SCAL-"

That's everything we know.

Note the information that list DOESN'T cover:

NO physical descriptions beyond a silhouette are provided for any of these triangles. NO bow tie; NO jewelry; NO eye(s) or other facial features; nothing. We have silhouettes.

NOTHING says that Scalene & Euclid are the names of the triangles holding bill

NOTHING says that the red and blue triangles Bill draws are the same triangles holding Bill.

NOTHING says that the blue and red triangles or the triangles holding Bill are even his parents.

Time Baby STRONGLY IMPLIES that Scalene (and, by association, probably Euclid) are the names of Bill's parents, but we can't quite totally rule out the possibility that he's talking about "your parents and Scalene [and Euclid]" as four different people. It's VERY UNLIKELY but still possible.

Basic reading comprehension says, yeah, there's a 99.9% chance that Scalene & Euclid, the triangles holding Bill, the red and blue triangles, and Bill's parents are all the same people. The .1% chance they aren't is if Alex is deliberately misleading us to pull some plot twist later.

But ANY information about their appearances that ISN'T in that first list of four points is not canon. It's somebody's personal headcanon.

[rkyuna]

    ・  MBC DANCE CONTEST UPLOAD   ━━━━         ›  DON’T CALL ME ANGEL   ₊

to say yuna’s father had reservations ever since her stint on the mgas was an understatement. sure, yuna had thought he’d get over it sooner or later. but she didn’t think he’d be so against it up ‘til now -- she was still enrolled at hanlim, a place that cultivated the next, brightest stars on their generation so it’s come to be expected that yuna would find herself back onto her star-filled path sooner than later.

what yuna doesn’t expect is her father, in all his not-so-stern glory, sitting her down the day after her birthday with his doubts about the mbc dance contest flyer he had seen loitering by the floor of her bed.

“you were a wreck after you were eliminated, what if it doesn’t turn out the way you want it to again?”

yuna deadpans, a sudden sourness filling her mouth. “what -- you don’t believe in me, dad?”

it hurts, yes -- to be reminded of her blunder. after putting it all behind her, yuna had thought she’d been renewed. that after months of contemplating what would be her next step, for this to come falling into her lap just days before her sixteenth birthday, yuna could only deduce it as something called fate.

“it’s not fair for you to be treating me like some baby! jessica and yoona unni were able to send in their videos, what makes me so different?”

just because she was the youngest of her family -- didn’t mean she liked being babied. if her own siblings were allowed to join the contest, why couldn’t she? her arms stay crossed as she leans further into her seat, staring dejectedly at her father as he stared right back ; grimness filling in the lines that had grown around his face in the last few months.

“i just don’t want you to get hurt, yuna.”

“i won’t, i promise.”

not like it’s a promise she can keep -- but she crosses both her fingers behind her back, just in case.

                                                     ━━━━━━━━━━    

she’s not born with it. that is for sure, from her experience at mgas, to revisiting video upon video of her performances, one could tell from one look that yuna had a long way to go when it came to dancing. but it didn’t negate the fact that -- despite her missteps and rigid movements -- she looked good. and that’s what mattered, right?

( at least that’s what yuna liked to think )

but opinions change and somehow needing something to stimulate her interests back into its right path, she had signed up for some dance classes. to fix the rigidity, to up her visual fluidity and somehow translate it practically into dance. 

it didn’t help that the ahjummas that lived next door would not let her live down the embarrassment that was getting eliminated so early on in the competition. she wanted to be remembered but not for losing. even for yuna, there were some limitations to negative press. and that had been hers. 

she had grown dim, and while she didn’t love the arts, didn’t feel any romanticized attachment to it -- she enjoyed them enough to want to still try. a huge sigh as she stares longingly at the advertisement playing right before another one of the choreography videos she watches, mbc’s flashy logo appearing right before the dance contest details and the fast-approaching deadline end the ad.

ugh. there was no choice, was there?

and while she didn’t love dancing, nor did she believe it was her god-given birthright to somehow be good at it -- with her birthday coming in just a few days, and the deadline for the dance contest falling close behind -- yuna had to figure out something, quick, before her time was up.

                                                  ━━━━━━━━━━      PRESS PLAY .

she scours the web for a choreography that benefitted her in two ways: befitting of her skills -- figuratively speaking -- and was aesthetically pleasing and powerful enough to make a mark. because if she wasn’t remembered, what was the point?

if yuna had a say in what she wanted to portray herself as -- she wanted it to be impactful, memorable and well-ingrained in the minds of her viewers. she wasn’t a youtuber by any means. if tiktok or vine counted -- she’d call herself more of an influencer, than anything else.

but with the few videos she’s put up, and the following from her other social media accounts, somehow the subscriber list had grown to a point that yuna knew to be anxious for whatever she put up next. as a young girl who made a point to heavily ignore the critics on her comment section, she was also still a young girl with a sensitivity streak that rivaled no other.

( which adds to the reason as to why her father feared for what to come )

but it’s something she can’t have weighing her down.

the moment she turns on that camera to perform the choreography she had spent days searching for ( and even a few more learning ) there’s no turning back.

would this make up for her blunder on the mgas? probably not.

but it was worth a try.

kyle hanagami’s choreographies are challenging. they require a skill that yuna does not have but she fesses up all of what she can manage in favor of star quality -- and that was just what kyle’s choreographies all held. a spunk of individuality and rebelliousness that yuna felt was so deeply embedded into her own being that even her father couldn’t help but agree that it had yuna written all over the steps the moment she had shown him the choreography she was going to cover.

relying on confidence alone was risky but she thinks she’s improved enough in the last six months to shake the nerves that pelter through until the very tip of her nerve-endings. it wasn’t like she couldn’t just edit out her mistakes, right?

( or would that be cheating? )

the beat is heavy in the dance room, secluded among the rest as some of her peers loom behind the phone camera to watch her from the screen ; making sure she stays in frame rather than running off the side. it’s happened before when she had tested the lighting ( and while she didn’t have any professional equipment, and she couldn’t really trust her friends to hold the phone steady enough -- this would have to do ) and found that she wasn’t even in frame for the first 30 seconds of the song ( a majority of the choreo considering how long it actually was: if she recalls it was barely a minute ) .

it’s a lot of attitude -- she realizes, as she goes through the motions in her head before she signals for the song to play. it’s a performance of not only her body, but her face and she feels it reflexively stiffen at the sound of ariana grande’s chorus fading to welcome miley cyrus’s verse.

it’s definitely more sharp moves than any of the other choreographies she had practiced before -- a lot more hitting the beat of the song, never a misstep -- something yuna realizes she does often if she feels herself quickening in pace rather than keeping in tempo.

and unlike exo’s namesake song, yuna had taken ages to make sure she didn’t mess up her own tempo with the song.  

she breathes in deeply right before the beat jumps and she’s sauntering forward ; fast movements ensue for sharper movements. so fast that she feels the whip of blonde locks against the nape of her neck ( a part of her regrets not tying her hair up ) as she spins and her arms are moving this way and that -- a languid motion sped up to match the rhythm of the song as she crouches then rises.

as fingers run through her hair ; she feels the smile finally break -- the breath in her lungs ripped out of her as she’s moving from one side of the frame to another. each step bringing another motion to ripple through her features. she grows in confidence as the lyrics finally hit its core -- a nail to the coffin, empowerment stemming from the very breadth of her hair to every smile she flashes at the camera. the haughtiness in her expression running through her fingertips as she moves in the way her girls’ hip hop teacher had taught them just a week ago -- sensual, but powerful.

it didn’t need to be sexy -- not for yuna, no. she just wanted it to be impactful.

memorable.

because wasn’t that the point of it all -- just as she turns one last time to face the camera, as the song fades, and her smile is dripping with confidence, chest heaving with the need to breathe -- 

( if she could help it ) yuna just wanted to be remembered for trying.

( and not failing, this time )