#syharper

[syxjaewon]

counting moonrocks

@syharper

in space, all time is a relative thing, a fluid construct that people who are way-travelers give up on at some point in their lives, the jetlag a constant battle between planets, their hours brimming with too many black days, too many endless night sky views out the windows. lot’s of ships, serenity included, attempt to remedy this by installing clocks and timekeepers, lists of planets with their given solar cycles, and constant updates about the hour of arrival whenever a destination is determined, to help the crew acclimate better and prepare themselves for planetside reconfiguration. it’s a tedious, strenuous business, perhaps the reason why most people prefer staying on their own planet and the verse isn’t so constantly cluttered with ships.

but for yang jaewon, time has never meant too much to him, never held too tight a grasp, never weighed too heavily across his shoulders, born an alleyway orphan without a set birthdate, learning about years and numbers far later, initiated into space as a preteen, and indoctrinated into the war before the official allotted age. truth be told, even day to day processes have only ever grazed the edges of his coat, his breakfast meals the same as his dinner meals, his daytime bleeding into his nighttime, and him awake for too much of it, him awake through the exhaustion and the second-winds, through his crews’ comings and goings. jaewon doesn’t sleep well, and therefore doesn’t sleep if he can help it, deciding that his time is better suited to his tasks, and those never sleep either.

so when he hears the sound of a baby crying, at first he thinks he’s gone and lost it finally for the night, pressed himself too hard, too far, too broken inside his own cranium, wondering if maybe he’s fallen through his own psyche again. it wouldn’t be the first time the hallucinations have ricocheted into his head, cries and voices haunting him through serenity’s hallways, ghosts calling his name, tugging on his clothes, fingers white and thin and desperate. so he ignores it for a while, waiting for it to leave, waiting for it to pass. it may take hours sometimes, it may take everyone else waking up and filling his ship with light again, but the visions always leave eventually.

but then he remembers, no, there is an actual baby on board, one he’s been named partially responsible for, and the realization prompts him to stand from his seat in the navigation room and wander through the hull, his ears pinned to the noise, following it through to its source. he finds harper and her baby in the mess room, both obviously exhausted, neither of them very happy with the other, tensions and decibels high. the child sure has got some lungs on her. if there’s one thing jaewon does actually know about kids, it’s that sometimes they’re not hungry or thirsty or dirty or tired, they just want to be fussy. “midnight blues?” he steps towards them slowly, carefully, gold eyes landing on the babe. “want me to take her?”

[syxhenry]

the clock is ticking

despite his family dying years ago, more than a decade ago, there has always been an invisible thread binding him to them, tying him to the remnants of a life once lived, to the tatters of his youth that stick to his skin as if he’s a entity running on excess fuel. he never thought he would last much longer, never thought the world between here and where the finish line would be spanned over a very large amount of space anymore. but still he kept going, driven by some sort of survival instinct, something that kept him moving, that made him want to somehow, in whatever way he could, get back at the people who destroyed his entire life.

and then things changed. he found peace in a small engine room on a beat up ship with no particular destination. he found peace within the metal-alloy plating carrying him through space. he found peace and a home in a ship that would perhaps burn to a crisp, but would never let her soul slip into oblivion if there was still a chance for henry to fix her, to put her back together and help her fly again. there’s an infinity in machines; a way to fix them over and over again, to replace parts with newer pieces until they outlive you by at least as many years as you spent working on them. this is the peace he found; the knowledge that there was one thing in the world that could not be taken from him before he would go himself.

funny, how that works.

he doesn’t think of the time when he left, doesn’t think of the crazy hunt across the galaxy until he found the person he went looking for. he doesn’t think of the months after, slowly nursing the man back to health, slowly trying to carve out a piece in the universe for the two of them. he doesn’t think of the moment when the realisation came that he’d gone and done something stupid again. he doesn’t think of the pain he felt when he packed up his things, landed their spaceship on one of the major travel hub planets in the verse and boarded something else - anything else - just to get out of there. he doesn’t think of how for a long time it felt like he left a part of him somewhere else.

at some point he ran into the doc then, two wandering souls trying to find purchase, and so they’d decided to travel together. he never asked what doc was running from, doc never asked what he was going towards. they just went, and went, and kept going. and then one day... one day they ended up on a planet doomed to head towards its own destruction, and doc had been asked to heal someone, and henry had found... something. his connection to machines, perhaps. a new challenge he couldn’t say no to, because no beaumondian engineer in their right mind could ever see a mech and decide to leave without getting a closer look. and perhaps he imagined the look on his father’s face if they would’ve seen this together, and perhaps it was just easier to lose himself in what he knew best for a while rather than to think of anything else.

but a planet is a planet. a planet is a sitting duck when someone’s out to target it. there is no moving in unexpected directions or hiding in unseen corners when you’re on a planet. and a planet blows up a whole lot more easily than most people think it does. 

so they left. they left and they set a new course. for the first time in the months they traveled together, henry told the doc of his home, of his baby flying out among the stars, and his wish to board her again. and so they’d followed every trail, every lead, until eventually he’d managed to pick up her signal again with his very own tracker, and they’d followed her across the black, until eventually they’d found her on this or the other planet, and henry had finally been able to put his feet back on home soil, bring himself back to safety, find peace again in the steady thrumming of her engine and the dependable rumble of her gears working.

there has always been an invisible thread binding him to his family, tying him to the remnants of a lost youth, of a time when he was still naive and innocent, when he could still afford to be naive and innocent. and then his sister walked back into his life, and contrary to what one would think would happen in the event of gaining back that which he lost, the thread snapped.

he sits with his back against the metal plating like the constant rumble of the ship will somehow chase the emptiness out of him, like serenity will be able to clear all the doubt from his mind, but she can’t. it is as if, like a ship without a pilot, he’s just floating out in the black, directionless, clueless, useless. the more serenity is coming back to full life around him as he works on her parts and tinkers on her pieces, the emptier it seems he grows, as if he’s letting his life force bleed into the ship, as if he’s giving it whatever is left of him, because what is he going to do with it anyway?

harper walked into his life, into the peace he’d carved out for himself, like a memory of everything bad that happened. rather than soothe him with her familiarity, rather than warm him with the recognition, she is an invasion on the home he’s made for himself. she is a stranger stepping into his most treasured space, but a stranger whose familiarity stabs at the softest, sorest parts of his core. a stranger who is a walking reminder suddenly, once more, of everything he has lost, of every little bit of all he once treasured that will never be the way it was again. and it was easier, he thinks, to handle the constant nagging pressure of that loss, when he wasn’t reminded of it every single time. when his sister wasn’t there with him like some caricature version of herself. it was easier when at least his memories were free from the reality of life; that nothing good can ever stay unbroken.

serenity hums all around him, steady and unchanging, but the peace he used to find here, in the heart of her, is gone. because just like his sister, just like everything good that he managed to find in his life, he now knows she, too, can be corrupted, will be corrupted, will become something entirely different from what he once knew.

it’s only a matter of time,

and the clock is ticking.

[docvelaw]

the past come to haunt

after finding the emerald dragon the med bay

he did not expect the flurry of movement and activity so soon, that’s a given. they did do a few jobs so far, and jaewon did say they were headed to a planet where there was usually work to be found, but then in the middle of what he thought was going to be an easy trip, suddenly the ship had jostled, he’d been nearly thrown to the floor and then they’d been flying at a much faster speed than before, breaking through the verse like there were reavers on their heels.

he’s not fully certain yet of what happened after, as he’d gone up to the deck only when they’d slowed down again, and had found harper there alone, jaewon and henry apparently off in a shuttle to go and try to rescue whatever survivors there were of the wreckage. he doesn’t know which wreckage, because in the heat of things people tend to forget that what is obvious to them isn’t always obvious to him, but he hasn’t tried to bother anyone with his questions so far, and he doesn’t think he will anytime soon.

what he does know is this; hours later brought jaewon and henry back to the ship, with three pods with supposed survivors. before jaewon had cracked open the first, his robot had already informed him that two might make it, but one would not, at least not with their limited supplies. he thinks he told jaewon as much, though not exactly in those words, but what went on with the girl did not matter as much in the light of what happened after her. he doesn’t know what transpired between the captain and their third rescue, only made it back to where the others were to check on said rescue about the time when a video was playing, some male voice he doesn’t know saying they were hunted by the alliance.

he hasn’t heard of them in a while, hasn’t been worried about them in a while, because henry and him have been keeping a very low profile, going from one insignificant planet to the next. he wasn’t prepared for the way the mere mention of them set his heart speeding, his breath rushing. he wasn’t prepared for the momentary jolt of fear going through him, born from an ever-growing worry that they’re bound to catch up some day; that like everything running, he is bound to be stopped one day.

luckily endymion had gone into hysterics, a foreboding of shock, and the steady warning voice of his robot in his ear had jolted him from his own stupor, to go over and take care of his third patient.

so here he is, with three new patients in his medbay and the means to take care of almost none of them. harper put the old man on a drip, and he’s added a few things to help him regain strength, he’s given endymion a calming sedative, so that when the young man wakes he’ll be less likely to instantly fly right into a second rage, and he’s done for the girl what he could, which is almost nothing. most importantly, however, his hood is back up, his goggles covering his eyes and the mask hiding his nose, mouth and chin. there is no way now for these people to know who he is, no way for them to ever tell the alliance hunting them who they’ve seen, and that is really the only thing he’s currently worried about.

so worried there might be many a sleepless night in his future, as there have been a few already in the past couple of days.

[syhaneul-blog]

🍺 so do you think you'll be able to install that air freshener anytime soon?

Send ‘’🍺‘’ + a question and my muse will answer it while they’re drunk

he didn’t really want to be dealing with this question, especially not when he was drunk. haneul sighed a little, propping up his heavy head in the palm of his hand as he stared down harper from his sitting position. “and what makes you think i want to install an air freshener for you?” that was just added work for him, and while he might have moments when he had the time to do it and wasn’t doing anything else, point of the matter was that he was lazy and couldn’t be bothered to do it. 

though, in reality, he supposed that he might be convinced if there was something in it for him. and the best time to try and convince him was when he was drunk and couldn’t think straight, so if she seriously wanted that air freshener she might want to try convincing him right this second. not that he would mind if she didn’t and was just teasing him, installing an air freshener for her sounded like boring work and hardly the most interesting thing he could be doing with his time. 

“if you want it, you’re going to give me something,” he did have to add, a lopside grin on his face as his features brightened just a little at the idea of getting something out of it. “you know, something for something. i’m not just going to do it because you asked.” 

[syxnine-blog]

What makes you laugh? | Nine + Harper

continued from here | @syharper

Nine blinked, thinking about Harper’s comment. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.” Nine spoke without emotion, each enunciation measured like a metronome. He peeked back out behind him, turned back to engage with the pair.

“None of the enemies are running.” Nine stated, noticing the look of disbelief appearing on their asset’s face. A wild bunch of swears came from the guy, looking to enter into an obvious state of shock as bullets chip away the wall acting as their barrier. Nine twisted the pin off a hand grenade and tossed it over the wall, reaching back into his jacket to pull out a protein bar.

“I heard being full helps to make one calmer. Your obvious lack of composure in such an environment may suggest hunger. Have a snack.” Nine offered the bar to their asset, the guy once again widening his eyes, his words failing him.

“Harper. I think this person we are supposed to be rescuing, might be not all there here.”  Nine looked towards his partner, and tapped his head at the end of sentence.

[hadesburns]

last song: me and the devil (by soap&skin but originally by the magnificent robert johnson)

last movie: inside out

currently reading: ‘call down the hawk’ by maggie stiefvater, house of leaves (again) by mark z danielewski, and lore olympus (trying to catch up)

currently watching: killjoys, bridgerton, supernatural (again, trying to catch up)

currently craving: something colder than milk and darker than blood

currently working on: a zodiac roleplay of my own and my southern gothic ghost wip ‘the bone church’

currently playing: gris. it’s a beautiful game

tagged by @hypnosreigns

name/nickname: tabi

gender: cis woman

star sign: cancer sun, aries moon, sagittarius rising

height: 5′10″

time: 9:40pm

birthday: july 4th

favourite bands: fall out boy, big bang, evanescence, panic at the disco, florence + the machine, my chemical romance (idk tho i’ve been getting into a lot of new stuff lately

song stuck in my head: dreamy night by lilypichu (specifically her mesh with corpse husband)

last movie: inside out

last show: killjoys (unless you count the Saga of Rust and the Blood God on the otv server, which i kind of do)

when did i create this blog: august 2018

what do i post: quotes, aesthetics, and pieces of my writing from past rps

last thing googled: “omoi omoware furi furare”

other blogs: too many to count

do i get asks: nope~~ i think i’ve only gotten like….. one lol and i’m okay with that

why i chose my url: i was going for a dark aesthetic so that every time i logged in i was reminded of the purpose of this blog

following: 83

followers: 62

average hours of sleep: 4 to 6 if i’m a lucky duck

lucky number: 1 or 8 but never 18 or 81

instruments: piano, guitar, a tiny tinyyyyyy bit of ukulele (i can play one song of billie eilish and nothing else)

what am i wearing: flannel…… because i’m gay

dream job: writing. being a writer. being able to support myself just through words

dream trip: belgium to visit my wife hawk because i love her every second of the day, and japan because it’s beautiful

favourite song: fantastic baby by big bang (for very specific reasons okay don’t come for me)

last book read: the queen of nothing by holly black

top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: anything scifi futuristic intergalactic laser shit where i can travel through space and stare at the stars all day, a universe where i am happy and i can trust the people around me (possibly too far-fetched), since we all know the universe we’re currently in is the darkest timeline, i think i could choose any other universe and it would be better than this one so

tagging @manicpanicdream @syharper (i know u still check this lol) @sheconjures @nanuthegreat @holleygolightly (idk if you’re into these but hello, doing my best)

[serenitykrp]

Can’t afford to wait around, there’s too much to do— the ship is going to have to leave them behind. Farewell and good luck out there in the ‘Verse.

PLEASE UNFOLLOW

@syxkafka

@octaviasy

@syharper

@sycrux

[syxjaewon]

💔

the first time it happens, the two of them are surrounded by adversaries, their focused gazes and burning gun barrels firing, the explosive powder still already ringing in the air from the way the captain and his mercenary have ravaged through the slave ship like twin hurricanes, their bullets finding targets much more often than their enemies, thanks to the two of them having become in-sync enough with each other to thwart the bulk of the damage. they lay waste to the vessel, the two of them granting no mercy, no leniency, no grace for those who would bind the poor and weak of persephone’s underbelly and carter them off to the highest bidder; the captain and his merc hold no hesitation in their firepower.

the job is almost finished, almost completed, a duty they both commit to free of any charge, when jaewon looses it, drops control of himself, either mis-stepping or mis-aligning with the universe, the whole galaxy around him flipping out of place violently, the darkness closing in on his vision. no bullet had struck him but he drops down anyway, his eyes rolling back, long limbs falling useless to the ground, and he’s not sure how long he dips out of reality, but it feels like only a second. he wakes up to harper screaming his name while desperately fighting off multiple assailants from three different angles, and she furious of course but he can’t explain things to her, not now, not yet, bad timing. he shakes himself awake and catapults his mind back into the problem at hand.

they win of course and later when harper asks him what the hell that was all about, he acts sheepish and shrugs it off, shaking his head. “i think something hit my head before i could dodge. how long did i duck out for?”

her expression is muted, clinging to her sense of mystery and control, something he himself is only grasping at for the moment, so he can’t read her entirely but he’s sure she doesn’t believe him. “only a few minutes,” she answers him anyway, despite the small muscles in her eyebrows that tug them together slightly, only vaguely letting on to her concern, before she masks it again with her usual flippant, flirtatious banter. “but hey, if you’re a good boy maybe i won’t tell the others how you fainted in the middle of a fight.” a cocky grin spreads across her lips, his hip jutting out with an attitude and once again jaewon forces himself to get a grip and resume his usual positioning for their banter.

the next time it happens, they are more or less alone, albeit on serenity in the evening, loading a carton of food goods into the wall of the cargo bay, random bouts of chatter and conversation shifting between them, the way it always does. sometimes she’s helpful and then other times she’s more interested in goofing around, but he’s glad she’s here nevertheless, given that most the other crew are off eating dinner and there’s no way jaewon could move this crate on his own.

“don’t you ever just relax?” she teases him.

“i do. and then you all come in and ruin it about a minute later.” he rolls his eyes and ignores the way she laughs, the way she knows he’s not really annoyed, the way they both know the exact second yang jaewon stops moving, he’ll be dead; there’s just no slowing down for someone who churns like the heart of a sun, someone who drives forward faster than any ship in the verse, faster than comets through the skies.

ahh, but everything has to come to a halt sooner or later, and when the blackness closes down over jaewon once again, this time it feels so much worse, something dreadful and fearful and cold– a raw and empty sort of cold, the kind that freezes in an instant with a single touch– invading the core of him, just before consciousness leaves. his eyes flicker to harper’s face as she turns, time slowing to a grind as he watches her features crush and wrinkle, worried as he falls, asking him a question he can’t answer. he’s out before he hits the ground.

when gold eyes flicker open once again, he’s in the medbay and strangely enough he already knows what the doctor tells him, the two of them in private, hushed voices because jaewon can’t bare the knowledge leaking out any further than a meter radius around them. he can see harper through the glass door, the only person standing out there which probably means she hasn’t told the rest of the crew yet what’s happened, and he supposes he should be grateful, despite the fact that he knows he’s not getting out of this one with another excuse; her eyes are shining and focused, a determination on her face that jaewon knows there’s just no point trying to resist.

as soon as the doctor steps away from him, harper hits the button and the door opens, stepping inside despite the sigh coming from serenity’s medical staff. “i told you he needs to rest, harper, you need to wait–”

“no, it’s alright,” jaewon contradicts, straining against a blooming headache to sit up and meet her gaze, feeling somewhat stripped without his coat suddenly, which he assumes they’d had to pull off him to get a stick in his veins. he’s gone through something like this before.

“so what is it?” she demands, her voice deceptively lighthearted, a funny little smile between her pursed lips like a knife, her head tilting slightly, her arms crossing with a shrug. “not getting enough sleep? low blood pressure? so blinded by my beauty you keep fainting?”

“cancer.”

the word falls from his lips like a bomb, the radiating explosions echoing through both their chests because even though jaewon has known about this for a hot minute now, he hasn’t said it out loud yet, hasn’t admitted it to any of his crew, to his ship, to his skies, to his own lungs and ears. it feels too real now, too solid, too unshakeable, too weak, and he hates it and he hates his own body and he hates that he’s somehow not strong enough to fend off every disease or toxin.

he tries not to swallow thickly or let his voice shake as he continues, despite the growing seriousness in harper’s eyes. “a tumor, to be precise. logged… somewhere in my head, like a bullet.”

“oh my god, yang…”

he breaks eye-contact, steels himself against any rising of emotion, because he is vallurian, because he is desert storms and mountain ranges and he does not break, not for anything. “i’ve still got a while, i think.”

“we need to get you to a proper hospital.”

“honestly i think i’d rather die.”

“honestly you really might.” now he sees it in her, now he sees the cracks, the breakage, his eyes boring into hers and hers boring into his, only hers are reddening, her hands in fists gripping onto herself for lack of anything else to grab, the muscles in her neck straining. he watches her, watches someone with whom death still has an affect on, someone who can still cry, still love, still allow herself that sense of coming undone, even just a little bit.

might. maybe. perhaps. possibly. as though the chances of his impending descent into hell, his rejoining with the ghosts who constantly howl against him, is somewhat less than certain. as though he has a shot at another six months after the next set, as though the alliance would help someone like him, as though he has enough money to pay for a hospital visit, the drugs, the screenings, the tests, the treatments, as though yang jaewon would ever allow himself to die anywhere other than split between stars and suns and supernovas. “might. yeah.”

.

2. My muse tells yours that they have a terminal illness.

[neosy]

🍺 so how far up your ass is your head really?

Send ‘’🍺‘’ + a question and my muse will answer it while they’re drunkcurrently: accepting!

   “You know, Harper, I actually have something to ask you.” Neo said, almost ignoring her question completely as he leaned forward to rest his chin on his hands, face free of a smile but eyes shining as if he secretly knew the funniest joke in the world. “Why are you so painfully unlikable?” He asked easily, almost as if it were as casual a question as the weather or a favorite color. “Do you think it’s sexy? Think it makes you more intimidating, or do you just want to seem edgy?” He asked, waiting to finish his question before his lips played a grin. “Listen, it’s okay, I get it; you’re compensating for something, maybe you’re threatened by me, whatever it may be – however, the way I see it, I haven’t really done anything to you and yet here you are wasting my time and yours with stupid fucking questions trying to antagonize me.” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows drawing together and feigning concern, alcohol heavy on his breath and his smile too joyful for his words. “Are you really that bored? Captain not giving you enough work?” Neo’s toned dripped sarcasm and pseudo-sympathy, entirely mocking in nature.

    “Maybe you’d have more thrilling things to do if you stopped trying to pick fights with your colleagues and focused on your job instead.”

[sylynx-blog]

💔

( ANGST DRABBLE MEME | accepting )↪ 72. ᴍʏ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ; ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ’ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴡᴀʏ.

     harper has the tendency to come to his life, leave so much behind and disappear without a trace. the first time they had met had been years ago, when he was simply a child in persephone, living with his second pair of ’parents’, in a gilded cage with no idea of what life was. teachers came and left, doing their money’s worth and filling his head with as much as they could. it wasn’t that lynx ( iseul back then ) hated learning, but it was lonely— boring, so much of the subjects he was given he didn’t care about. whitney was different, unlike anyone he ever met, anyone who had ever been a part of his life. he had stared at her with wide eyes, listened to all she could share, back when they were entirely different people.

      then she had disappeared, gone off to somewhere else, leaving only fond memories and a sting in her wake. and he had gone through a lot as well, became someone else — ran away from home, not only changed his name but his entire self. never take any shit, be tough, you’re your own person. iseul became lynx, the silent boy who had hidden under his sheets became the self-proclaimed hacker, always proud of his skills, yet doing his best to ever be cautious.

    then she came back to his life again, as harper rather than whitney, and he didn’t know what to expect either. it wasn’t the whitney-jie who had told iseul stories of her travels softly, but someone else, just as strong, sharp, gorgeous — the same fire burned inside of her — but lynx knew she had changed, maybe as much as he had. it was an entirely different scenario this time too. he wasn’t a child anymore, and they were partners, lynx finally having the opportunity to show off how good he could be. it wasn’t the helpless child on a trip to town, but someone with sharp edges too, an over-abundance of faked confidence to go with what he could make of himself.

     she had smiled then too, this time sharper, flirty words fell from his lips with ease — and lynx realized maybe he wasn’t as closed off as he hoped he was. the flutter in his chest was pushed down, and he did his best to be engrossed in the job instead of what his heart might hide from him. as they ran down the emergency stairs of a six story building, he had laughed with her, their glory shared over a couple of drinks that same night. he had looked up at her when alcohol ran through their veins, her laughter echoing inside the crowded bar. his eyes held something similar to what they had all those years ago back in persephone, staring at the same girl with the stories, someone who had been in his memories ever since, someone who had made him yearn of a life other than the one he was living.

     he was lost, unsure what to do with the feelings that rose up in his chest, the past weeks all a blur of planning, chatting, flirting. it was all light-heartedly done, he knew so, he wasn’t dumb enough to believe otherwise. that was who she was, but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt. alcohol did nothing to numb the feelings but only enhance them — the weight on his chest growing as they continued to talk through the night. his rationality took the back seat as he stared at her, for too long, watching how she talked, how she joked, his mind conjuring images of what there could be if it was another life entirely.

    it hurt, even though he himself wouldn’t try to understand why it did. he didn’t want to feel — he was alone after all, wasn’t that the whole idea of the identity he made for himself ? untouchable, unseen, alone. then why did he crave her touch so, and felt the breath leave his lungs as he realized it was never meant to be. they had been working long enough for him to see her with other people, and he knew he wasn’t special. not in the way she was special to him. he was too young, too brash, too — everything. even though the facts were laid in front of him, he had hoped that night, closed his eyes as he leaned against the dirty bathroom walls, hoping he was too drunk to remember anything the day after. perhaps it was what they both thought as they slept that night, limbs mingled into one, but the intimacy did nothing but deepen the pain.

     when he woke up, it was all done. she was gone. leaving him with an aching head, and a heart that was shattered on the ground. it didn’t make sense — and he shook his head, stood up, and made himself forget it in the way he forgot everything bad that had happened in his life. it brought a tinge of guilt with it as he did so, that he put her in the same category as the abusers, the adults he had sworn not to be. lynx needed to cope. harper deserved better. and it was all about that. he was never going to be good enough, so the best thing to do was to bury it all with everything else, forget the possibility of them ever being together. he was sure he hadn’t even crossed her mind in such way, and going through that road would only bring him pain. they didn’t have any way of contacting one another, no way for him to message her — and he promised himself not to look her up either. she was simply a partner after all, someone he had met when he was a child, when he didn’t know much. and maybe he still didn’t know as much as he claimed now, but he believed he made the right choice. love wasn’t an option for those like him, not with her — not with someone who deserved the world, not with someone who held so much fire inside her that brightened wherever she went. it was done. she was gone.

     years pass, and when he sees her for the first time now, his heart skips a beat, and that’s it. nothing else. it’s all in the past, what was left of his feelings buried six feet under. it’s the best, because he knows one of them will disappear sooner than later. let it be iseul or lynx. whitney or harper. they’re not meant to be.

[hanaxsy-blog]

🍺 what's the one moment in your life that you wish you could relive? not change, just relive. (not sure if it sent so i try again)

“the one moment..” Hana repeats, blurry memories passing through her drunken state in a haze, a million scenarios replaying in her mind. It had always amused her how weak and broken the human soul could be; how odd the mind was. A million memories of sadness, of hatred, envy, and frustrations would stay while the happy ones seemed to always dissipate. As if they were suppressed, until they’d be slowly erased, resting in the deepest segments of one’s mind. Were humans afraid to be happy? Was her species, Hana, so afraid of loss that her heart could not even endure memories of times a past? 

And so she closed her eyes. Digging, reliving, countless moments in her life. Wondering which episode she would select. Would it be an instance of weakness so she could remind herself never again? Or a defining moment in which her hands dealt upon another the judgement of death? Would it be a time of lust and love, those moments hidden behind closed doors as she first learned the sin of lust? Or the heart-break of having loved and lost, to remind her to never fall in love again? 

No, none of those seemed fitting. Once…one would be enough, but oh. Ah yes. that one. Hana thought to herself, a small smile hover over her features, the memory grasping her mental form as if she were transported back in time. Cross-legged on a rock she sat, full-grown, gazing at the family of four laughing amidst the crops. It was the faint-familiar smell of harvest, of life, of home. It was the melodic arrangement of her family’s voices as they toiled away in song. Oh how she’d changed, she’d think to herself, as she watched her younger, mischievously wild counter-part run rampant with imagination and pure pure laughter. When her smile was not a mask to lure another in, but genuine. 

but that could never be relived. Never again. And snapping back to reality, slightly dejected and pissed at the truth, Hana downed the rest of the soju bottle. There was a hardness in her eyes as she stared at harper. 

“Will you bring me back then?” she queried, “because I’d rather not waste my breath if you couldn’t.” 

[sycasta]

👀 + how many times would you be willing to forgive someone before you've had enough?

“Depends.” He answers carefully. “What am I forgiving them for? Little things like always being late or forgetful... things like that? Or like... serious things? Smaller things, I don’t mind. I’m a pretty easy person, not too fussy when it comes to things like that. I can take a little beating. Serious things... I do like to give people second chances so I’d only be able to forgive someone once... you know? Unless they’ve done something horrible... like disowned me...” He mumbles. 

[syhaneul-blog]

👀 + what made you leave your home planet?

send 👀 + a question for haneul to answer honestly

you could almost visibly see the colour draining from his face just having to think about the reason he had left in the first place. even all these years on it was an incredibly sore subject for him and not really something he wanted to spend his time thinking about. what he would rather have in his mind was machines and working out what he was going to tinker around with next and what he might be able to improve around the place, not the death of the only real family he had in the whole damn ‘verse.

but he had to be honest about it, and really he didn’t mind telling people if they were curious. it was not like he was scared about the same people who had killed his father coming after him anymore. and if they had really wanted him at the time, then they probably would have looked for him instead of just committing murder and leaving again as fast as they had arrived in the first place. or, maybe, they just didn’t have the time to look around, but haneul simply didn’t know as he had not hung around to ask many questions. 

“my father was murdered,” he responded simply, “his last words to me were to get off the planet and don’t come back. and that was seconds before a bullet was put through his skull.” there was no point in sugary coating the situation, he was simply telling it as it happened. though his head tilted to the side, fringe almost covering his eyes as he thought about the rather traumatic event. “i was fifteen and terrified, so i listened and hitchhiked off planet on the first ship i could and i have never been back.”

[syxjaewon]

‘we are the jack-o-lanterns in july’

@syharper

it takes quite a while for the captain to simmer down into a quieter sort of fury, the edges of him still burning and singeing everything he touches, the searing heat of his atmosphere felt from across rooms and hallways as he passes them, but he’s no longer burning holes in his ship with his eyes, no longer snarling answers to questions asked in innocence, his voice curling into a more control state of frustration. five hours is a long fucking time to wear on his nerves even as they scorch across sihnon’s sky at top speed levels, the stress and anger boiling to hatred seething uncomfortably through his ship and through his blood, his marrow, his nerve-endings, and he’s already fought with enough people in his crew already, that he’s beginning to carve in on himself, etching the responsibility into his chest along with the craters already imprinted there.

it’s the helplessness that scratches at him the worst, tugs on his shadow, at the ends of his hair, at the corners of his mind, this seething inability to do anything to help the ship fly faster, to ensure a victory, to ensure his crew’s safety-- all of his crew, even the passengers this argent asshole seems to think jaewon should care less about, the tracker apparently not very intuitive in gauging jaewon’s motivations apparently. which reminds him, once this is all over, they’ll need to perform a sweep of the ship, dock it on some moon somewhere so that everyone can fucking check over everything, find whatever tracker this boat has been infected with.

he already starts in on that a little bit, pulling out the operational panels along the walls of the main hallway, exposing the wires and circuits and buttons that help hold serenity together, having already instructed lynx and his engineers to get to work on other pieces of the ship as well. he’s not as knowledgeable as henry is and thinking about it, it would sure help a lot if henry were here to help fix this, but he’s not a total backbirth either and he’s lived on this ship for much, much longer than anyone else currently alive; if anyone would be able to spot something foreign or out of place, it would be her captain.

he’s halfway through the main hard-wiring when harper comes into the sphere of his hearing, her footfalls heavier than usual with what he hopes and assumes are guns and knives she intends on using to expense on their new mutual enemies. jaewon does intend on gearing up as much as possible himself, the plan to take out as many of these bastards as possible already branding its way over his thoughts, but they’re still a few hours out and despite pushing dex to fly faster, he doesn’t think they’ll be hitting any momentum surprises anytime soon. “you don’t happen to have any grenades on you, do you?” they’ll be landing on a skyplex, grenades might make for a good distraction.

[sylynx-blog]

‘ you’re like one of those carwash floaty things that are out front just wiggling around. ’

( BUZZFEED SENTENCE STARTERS | not accepting )

     lynx pouts, his eyes squinting as he rests a hand on a nearby wall, putting his weight against it to balance himself. his outfit for the night out consisted of a pair of heeled boots, with taller heels than what he usually goes with. and apparently, they weren’t of good quality. most of the evening had passed by quite well, but once they had alcohol running through their veins, and when the first lights of dawn shined through the streets, the shoes apparently couldn’t take it anymore. so that’s why lynx is half limping on their way back to the ship, which pulls out many chuckles from the girl. the more she laughs, the more embarrassed he gets, the frown deepening as he whines a ’harper—jie, stop’. and it does work for a short amount of time. however, when he thinks it’s done for good, harper speaks again, a proud grin on her face due to the deduction she makes.

     truth to be told, she is probably right, lynx has been limping for a long time now, and the design of his blouse has ridiculously long sleeves, so maybe, just maybe — harper has a point. he is still holding onto the fallen off heel on one hand, too intoxicated to think clearly. because honestly, there is no way he’s wearing these shoes again. “hey — come on, please —” he whines with all he has, looking at her with a pout. “i would just walk barefoot but i don’t wanna get infected or somethin’, that would be an unfortunate end to our day. — or you know what, this is unfortunate enough, please stop laughing at me.” he concludes, final and clear —- or he thinks he does, unaware that his words are slurring into one another, lipstick on his face from god knows who ( might be harper, might be someone else ), and with his own make-up messed up— it’s apparently too much of a sight for harper not to laugh. and when that loud, happy noise reaches lynx’s ears, the boy lets out another, long whine, attempting to rush forward so that he can finally make it to the ship.

     then again, his sense of balance is still impaired, and after tripping over his own feet, he barely manages not to fall on his face. soon after that, when he stands straight, not about to break his own nose, he hears her stifle a laugh. “okay okay ! stop —- don’t tell anyone, please —” and knowing he can’t look back and walk to the entrance of the ship at the same time, he throws her his most powerful puppy-eyes stare ( or thinks he does ) before turns around and steadily walks back ( well, as steadily as he can. )