#like im cheating for a test because i am not knowledgable of the fish that dont live in my pond
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it becomes increasingly obvious this man cannot wink for the life of him if not for the way he blinks
do you also think about the way he intentionally matched his hat with his trousers or am i the only one consumed by madness
#ive made the central florida joke#so now i can make the he looks like every lesbian out of portland oregon#fisherman chic#i need to have a beer with this guy#need to talk to him about euro perches while i secretly look down at the wikipedia article i have open on my phone in lap#like im cheating for a test because i am not knowledgable of the fish that dont live in my pond#and im trying to impress the baddie im sat next to#i make up for my lack of charisma in my willingness to splurge about fish facts#also the way those unsexy trousers hug his ass sure is something#i feel like im crushing on my camp counsellor here man#im feeling so conflicted
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{jeon yeo-bin, 28, cis woman, she/her} || min-ji nam is a mutant with the ability of memory manipulation they’ve been in new york for two years where they spend most of their time as mortician. when i think of them, i think of the name of a childhood friend you can’t quite remember, ink bleeding through a page, hands that don’t warm up, a long black coat with two buttons missing.
nam min-ji was the first child and only daughter to two loving parents. she’s born in a small fishing town in korea. she’d remain an only child for four years, until her brother was born. her first seven years were unremarkable, then her parents pack everything and move to america for a work opportunity for her dad. she has an eidetic memory, which helped a lot during her schooling. she speaks two languages: korean and english, along with a small bit of french thanks to a required high school class. her life is normal, and she pursues a degree in chemistry with a minor in photography, and the former would lead to her pursuing an associate’s degree in mortuary science. after seven years of college, she’d shadow a local funeral director for a full year before going off on her own. her work has taken her all sorts of cities, even back to korea for a short stint. now, she’s back home in new york, running her own funeral parlor for the past two years.
those are the facts. that’s her life story.
it’s all wrong.
nam min-ji was the first and only daughter to two loving parents. she’s born in a small fishing town in korea. she’d remain an only child for four years, until her brother was born. when she was five, she started a game that would entertain her friends and other neighborhood kids. if she touched their hand, she could tell them what they had for breakfast, what their mother had told them earlier in the day word for word, or what they’d gotten for their last birthday. the kids were amazed at min-ji’s ability, and begged for her to teach them. she’d just smile. by six, kids would come up to her in school for help remembering where their house was, what the teacher had said an hour beforehand, or other things their little minds couldn’t quite recall. but min-ji always could.
the fun and games ended when her teacher noticed how children flitted to and from her desk. she wanted to know what was going on, as the disruptions were becoming a nuisance. min-ji, a little kid and proud of what she could do, wanted to show off to the adult. she grabbed her hand. images filled her head of a man yelling, and she could hear her teacher yelling back, something about money and cheating. min-ji frowned at her teacher, and repeated the exact words the man had used at her. the adult flinched and looked at her in horror.
it was the beginning of the end.
she’s sent to the headmaster’s office. neither them or the teacher could decide what was there to do about her. was she spying on the teacher? had her parent’s heard and told her? any rational conclusion couldn’t fit as how had the girl been able to say exactly what the teacher’s husband had? at the mention of touch causing it, they came to one solution: min-ji could no longer have skin to skin contact at school. she was to come everyday in gloves.
little min-ji became a pariah in a matter of days. there were whispers of what caused her new daily accessory, why the teacher wouldn’t even look in her direction anymore, if her ability to look in the past was actually a curse. her parents took her to different doctors, all of which had no clue what caused min-ji’s abilities.
a year after her incident at school, a group of kids a grade older than her cornered min-ji in alley. they grabbed her hand and yanked a glove off.
“show us your magic trick, freak.”
min-ji, in tears and scared as the other kids pushed and smacked her head, discovered a new skill she had. as her hand was placed in one of bully’s, she saw a blur of memories and shut her eyes tight. she wanted it all to stop. stop. stop. STOP. and then it did. she was back in her own mind, and a sense of calmness washed over her. the other kid wasn’t so lucky. he dropped her hand and looked around.
“where am i?” their group’s eyes widened. “who are you?” he questioned. unable to understand what was going on, the children screeched, one pulling on their now confused friend away from her.
“get away from her! get away!” they yelled to each other.
word was spread around. the boys’ parents are furious, claimed min-ji cursed their son. the entire town was aware of min-ji’s...quirk now, and they were furious. nothing her parents said could soothe the angry mob. a sympathetic doctor had contacted them, and let them know of a school that taught children like her in new york. her parents had no other choice, as they were just as worried about their daughter as much as their neighbors were scared of her.
within the next few months, her family were moved to a two bedroom apartment in new york. in another week, min-ji was enrolled in the xavier institute. the harassment from their town, move, and overall culture shock of a new place had shaken min-ji. she didn’t understand what made her so different, made her so hated.
slowly, she became to understand it. as she met the other kids, she could see their various talents and how hers weren’t just an everyday oddity. for awhile, things improved. she still wore her gloves, but with one on one teacher instructions, she learned to control and sharpen her abilities. there were still bumps and dives in the road, but nothing too bad.
then, she took off her gloves one day. she’d met someone she’d wanted to hold hands with, to touch without fabric as a barrier. it was a mistake. she wasn’t ready.
her excitement caused her to push her own memories onto her current crush, so much so they felt like they were experiencing it. for the first time in more than half a decade, she saw the emotion she saw in those kids’ eyes in the alley. fear.
the other students started to avoid her. they’d flinch if she even brushed past. they were all different, but now people realized fully what min-ji could, the extent of it. how do you know if your memories are your own? is she messing with us right now? i feel like i’m forgetting everytime i’m in a room with her. min-ji realized even mutants couldn’t resist acting on their panic.
still, there were a couple of people who stayed by her side, were friends with her. it didn’t ease the sting of people being scared of her entirely, but it helped her cope. as soon as she graduated, she was out of there. professor xavier had been kind enough to pay for her schooling to a university. she flourished there as no one knew she was any different. her parents were proud, happy that she’d grown up to be the woman she was. they found her choice of career a bit funny, but were glad she knew what she wanted to do.
it’s during her year shadowing a funeral director things are thrown awry. the president confirms the existence of mutants. people will find out. they always want to know why she wore the gloves.
with mutants coming out of the shadows, she panicked even moreso. she left the city, wanting as much distance between her and the school as possible. then, she couldn’t run anymore. she was in charge of someone who turned out to be a mutant, as well as their friends who attended the service. one had the ability to see other people’s mutation. he pulled her aside, began peppering her with questions. her repeated denial was met with an invitation. they had a group of mutants, people to test their powers with. if you don’t let it out once in awhile, you’ll explode. that conversation kept her up for weeks, until she finally gave in. it was uncomfortable at first, as she was resistant to revealing her abilities. when she did, it wasn’t fright that met her. it was amazement.
she’s thriving again, but this time as herself. her true self. everything was going well, she was happier than ever. her powers weren’t a curse. they could make people happy, make her happy, like they had as a child.
but she started to use it too much. she overexerted herself. she began having ideas, ways to speed up mutant acceptance. as she discovered she didn’t even need to touch people to look into their memories, to change it. why couldn’t i just meet the president, rewrite his history so he comes up with stronger mandates for mutant protection? some were for it, most were wary. you’re going off the deep end. take a step back. she didn’t care, she had a gift and wanted to use it. the amount of bodies coming into the parlor that were mutants had skyrocketed over the years. something had to be done.
the group agreed, just not with her. a plan was made with the other telepath among them as the main player. with their abilities, as min-ji slept one night, they put a stop to min-ji’s fantastical plans by erasing her knowledge she was a mutant at all. it took some time, to fill such a large part of her life enough that she wouldn’t be suspicious.
it worked. min-ji started over without knowing it, and has been living that way for the past eight months. she wore gloves because her hands were always cold. i was born to be a mortician, huh? she’d joke to people once she told them her line of work. it’s normal. she’s normal. nothing could change that. right?
okay so hi! i would love to plot with everyone and write with everyone! i’m izzy aka bells (i answer to either!) my discord is gaytendo#6961 or you can im me on here!! i can’t wait to write and talk with all of you!!
#do you recognize the face in the mirror? —「 appearance 」#i've got a suitcase of memories that i almost left behind. —「 musings 」#everybody cut footloose! —「 walkman 」#oh. you just reminded me of someone. —「 answered 」#say you’ll remember me. —「 interactions 」#you thought this was an intro? it was a tag dump all along#death tw#bullying tw
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