[ But that wasn't the important part reall. He was trying hard to not scratch or anything, instead he was trying to keep busy, but at the response from David, he was putting things up. Of course that was when he got a sharp stabbing pain in his chest, so when David finds him, he was doubled over, pressing a hand against his chest and hissing in Korean. ]
[ And guess who comes in right about then. Bodyguard instincts kick in around then, and he's immediately at the other's side, an arm around his back. ]
You know, when I was cursing out everyone earlier for the scales I wasn't exactly expecting something else to actually pop up. Couch. Now.
[ The pain was easing up to more of a dull throb while other spots were itching the way healing scar tissue itches. He breathes out heavily through his nose and tries to uncurl a bit more. ]
It's more of an itch now on the back than pain now.
[ Awkward even though Yoon-sung didn't have a bad build, he still wasn't as sculpted as was David. Still, it was the middle of the day at the office and that could be awkward if someone else walked into the room.
Giving himself a minute to calm down, Yoon-sung finally started taking off jacket, shirt and tie, hissing a little at the fabric scraping across his itchy skin. Once it was gone, he just closes his eyes not wanting to see, which means that David would see the scars. The knife ones on his back were fading already to thin old lines, while the bullet on his shoulder was still an angry color. The bullet wound in the chest was even angrier, but looking far better than the shoulder one. ]
[ And he thought it was weird with the sudden appearance of his scales earlier. It's almost morbidly fascinating how it looks like the scars are appearing at an accelerated rate. He's not even sure if he should be touching any of these, though his hand is hovering over it as if he was going to trace them, but he keeps his fingers far enough away not to actually touch the skin. His eyes narrow especially at the marks showing up on his shoulder. ]
[ His eyes popped open and he looked over his shoulder at David, frowning. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. His father had such a set idea in mind about everything that even a whisper about what he might not like had Yoon-sung tensing up. Of course, by this time the scarring was fading to look like it had been there for a while. Well. All but the angry one on his shoulder, which looked as if someone had self-treated a gunshot wound and had to get it reopened and restitched. ]
[ Was that why they itched? Yoon-sung would have reached back to scratch but he knew that it wouldn't do any good. Especially if they were just healing like David said they were.
The shoulder scar faded but still looked angry, a line of puckered flesh that hinted at an ugly moment in time. ]
I think he was part of a drug cartel. At least at first. I don't know about the stuff with the Blue House bodyguard how it fits but from what he had said to an ahjussi he was against his father's revenge?
Just at first but now all I want to do is scratch.
[ He does absently scratch at the smooth puckered mark on his chest, showing where a bullet would have hit near the lung area, and then paused. Frowning he held his hands up so he could see them and the lacework of scarring along the knuckles and fingers, and a strange circular scar in the center of one hand. ]
Look at that... Yeah, my father was part of it. Like he was standing over me yelling in this field, and I was being made to hit a block of wood, over and over again. Knuckles cracked open, wood under my skin, and I was still 'too weak'.
[ And he reaches up to feel the dimple, the scarring fading even more. The ones on his hands were fading as well, though the small circular one in the center of his hand almost disappears. Almost save when the light catches on his skin a certain way.
Yoon-sung huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. ]
He can be strict about some things but no, he isn't that bad. Father knows when to give me a little space.
Look, I'm not taking any chances on this, just don't mess with them for now.
[ This was the first time he's actually seen something appear like this - the scales didn't completely count, if only because of the fact that they were apparently something he could will away if necessary. Scars were generally there forever. ]
You mentioned revenge. And if your other dad was in on it and the one orchestrating it...
[ He pauses. It really doesn't sound like CEO Lee, though. ]
Perhaps he was training you for it. Whatever it was.
[ But he couldn't help the little wiggle back in his seat to rub his back against the cushion because his skin still itched. Forced scarring still felt a bit like the scarring he had from falling off his bike years ago; the skin itching as it healed. He would put bandages on those to keep from digging at the scabs. ]
My father? That doesn't make sense. I mean -
[ And there was a wave of dizziness and he wasn't sitting on the ridiculously expensive white sofa but standing in a traditional Thai house, shoulders curved to keep his head from knocking into the ceiling and tears running down his face. His father was laying on a cot, blood seeping into the padding from the stump where a leg should be, while a frantic doctor - German accented English, shaking hands - was ordering his father to take a dose of some kind of medicine. But his father was speaking to him, at him, about the death of his real father. ]
...oh god. [ He swallowed. He could still taste the blood and gunpowder in the air, feel the glass and broken wood under his feet, hear the buzz of insects and muttering voices. ]
[ David immediately shifts to make sure that Yoon-sung isn't slumped over too hard, an arm protectively around his shoulders as he braces his other hand (gently) against his chest. ]
[ Distantly he was aware he was shaking and that he felt like throwing up, but that was overwhelmed by feelings of shame - stupid stupid, my fault I knew the shotgun was too light - and anger - Father is right I need to train more. He could feel David's arm around him, holding him up, and hear him, but the scene was there, playing itself out like his own personal bad movie reel. Then it let him go, leaving Yoon-sung gulping air and shaking. ]
I... [ He exhaled, eyes closed as he reached up to grab David's wrist, needing the contact to ground himself in the now. ] Father's leg was blown off and he was talking about his revenge, about how he wanted to take out the men that killed my real father. He had me dig a bullet out of his shoulder, that it had gone through my real father's chest and hit him and he carried it as a reminder until I was ready....
[ His fingers twitched, squeezing hard trying to separate the memory like the others, but this one was felt real, even more real than the one where he was stalking a man. ]
[ David (for once) bites back a comment about his boss's life turning into some weird drama as Yoon-sung talks, knowing full well that he really can't say anything considering what little he's had to go on has been weird at best. He doesn't even move until after he's finished, ignoring how Yoon-sung's fingers dig into his wrist, though his expression does seem to get a bit more stormy after the fact. ]
So the CEO Lee that you've been seeing in your memories isn't your real father?
I guess? [ The memory was letting him go a bit more and he was breathing easier. He loosened his grip on David's wrist as his tremors stopped. ] He said that my father died shielding him from a sniper That he raised me for my father's sake.
[ There was still a lot more to the whole mess. He had been raving about all sorts of stuff, and the doctor had been calling out for them to stop taking so much time. ]
I don't understand it at all. My other acted like he was my father all the time, even later on.
[ Honestly he can't say he understands it completely, but - ]
I think I get what you're getting at. You were raised by him long enough for him to be considered your father regardless of what else came up.
[ He'd continue, but there's something resembling a growl coming from his throat before he freezes up himself, arms stiffening and the familiar itching that seemed to accompany his scales appearing starting to come up. ]
[ And now it was Yoon-sung's turn to look at David and try to soothe him from whatever he was seeing, though he had a harder time with the scales. He tried all the same, avoiding the main patches to rub his back soothingly. ]
[ The growling subsides, and he takes a deep breath. The scales have definitely made their appearance, but outside that, he's doing okay. Though the images that were flashing in front of him weren't exactly very soothing. ]
But apparently Fafnir didn't get along with his family.
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[ Small miracles. He's on the way! ]
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[ But that wasn't the important part reall. He was trying hard to not scratch or anything, instead he was trying to keep busy, but at the response from David, he was putting things up. Of course that was when he got a sharp stabbing pain in his chest, so when David finds him, he was doubled over, pressing a hand against his chest and hissing in Korean. ]
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You know, when I was cursing out everyone earlier for the scales I wasn't exactly expecting something else to actually pop up. Couch. Now.
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[ He allowed himself get pulled to the couch and takes a seat, still bent over and trying not to jar himself too much. ]
I hope this isn't something similar or a heart attack or something. There wasn't anything like that in the hallucinomemories.
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[ David frowns, lifting his arm. ]
Where does it hurt?
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[ The pain was easing up to more of a dull throb while other spots were itching the way healing scar tissue itches. He breathes out heavily through his nose and tries to uncurl a bit more. ]
It's more of an itch now on the back than pain now.
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[ ... god this is awkward. ]
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Giving himself a minute to calm down, Yoon-sung finally started taking off jacket, shirt and tie, hissing a little at the fabric scraping across his itchy skin. Once it was gone, he just closes his eyes not wanting to see, which means that David would see the scars. The knife ones on his back were fading already to thin old lines, while the bullet on his shoulder was still an angry color. The bullet wound in the chest was even angrier, but looking far better than the shoulder one. ]
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The hell...? These aren't -
[ He lets out a long exhale. ]
Shit, your dad's going to kill me.
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[ His eyes popped open and he looked over his shoulder at David, frowning. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. His father had such a set idea in mind about everything that even a whisper about what he might not like had Yoon-sung tensing up. Of course, by this time the scarring was fading to look like it had been there for a while. Well. All but the angry one on his shoulder, which looked as if someone had self-treated a gunshot wound and had to get it reopened and restitched. ]
What is it?
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[ It's blunt, but it's about the best way that David can describe it. ]
First fighting me like you actually have had military training, now this. Just what the hell was your other self involved in?
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[ Was that why they itched? Yoon-sung would have reached back to scratch but he knew that it wouldn't do any good. Especially if they were just healing like David said they were.
The shoulder scar faded but still looked angry, a line of puckered flesh that hinted at an ugly moment in time. ]
I think he was part of a drug cartel. At least at first. I don't know about the stuff with the Blue House bodyguard how it fits but from what he had said to an ahjussi he was against his father's revenge?
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[ He frowns. ]
You did mention something before about your dad being involved too somehow. Hm.
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[ He does absently scratch at the smooth puckered mark on his chest, showing where a bullet would have hit near the lung area, and then paused. Frowning he held his hands up so he could see them and the lacework of scarring along the knuckles and fingers, and a strange circular scar in the center of one hand. ]
Look at that... Yeah, my father was part of it. Like he was standing over me yelling in this field, and I was being made to hit a block of wood, over and over again. Knuckles cracked open, wood under my skin, and I was still 'too weak'.
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[ He shifts back to give Yoon-sung room, though he still stays close. ]
That ... doesn't sound like him.
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[ And he reaches up to feel the dimple, the scarring fading even more. The ones on his hands were fading as well, though the small circular one in the center of his hand almost disappears. Almost save when the light catches on his skin a certain way.
Yoon-sung huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. ]
He can be strict about some things but no, he isn't that bad. Father knows when to give me a little space.
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[ This was the first time he's actually seen something appear like this - the scales didn't completely count, if only because of the fact that they were apparently something he could will away if necessary. Scars were generally there forever. ]
You mentioned revenge. And if your other dad was in on it and the one orchestrating it...
[ He pauses. It really doesn't sound like CEO Lee, though. ]
Perhaps he was training you for it. Whatever it was.
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[ But he couldn't help the little wiggle back in his seat to rub his back against the cushion because his skin still itched. Forced scarring still felt a bit like the scarring he had from falling off his bike years ago; the skin itching as it healed. He would put bandages on those to keep from digging at the scabs. ]
My father? That doesn't make sense. I mean -
[ And there was a wave of dizziness and he wasn't sitting on the ridiculously expensive white sofa but standing in a traditional Thai house, shoulders curved to keep his head from knocking into the ceiling and tears running down his face. His father was laying on a cot, blood seeping into the padding from the stump where a leg should be, while a frantic doctor - German accented English, shaking hands - was ordering his father to take a dose of some kind of medicine. But his father was speaking to him, at him, about the death of his real father. ]
...oh god. [ He swallowed. He could still taste the blood and gunpowder in the air, feel the glass and broken wood under his feet, hear the buzz of insects and muttering voices. ]
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Shit.
[ David immediately shifts to make sure that Yoon-sung isn't slumped over too hard, an arm protectively around his shoulders as he braces his other hand (gently) against his chest. ]
What happened?
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I... [ He exhaled, eyes closed as he reached up to grab David's wrist, needing the contact to ground himself in the now. ] Father's leg was blown off and he was talking about his revenge, about how he wanted to take out the men that killed my real father. He had me dig a bullet out of his shoulder, that it had gone through my real father's chest and hit him and he carried it as a reminder until I was ready....
[ His fingers twitched, squeezing hard trying to separate the memory like the others, but this one was felt real, even more real than the one where he was stalking a man. ]
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So the CEO Lee that you've been seeing in your memories isn't your real father?
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[ There was still a lot more to the whole mess. He had been raving about all sorts of stuff, and the doctor had been calling out for them to stop taking so much time. ]
I don't understand it at all. My other acted like he was my father all the time, even later on.
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I think I get what you're getting at. You were raised by him long enough for him to be considered your father regardless of what else came up.
[ He'd continue, but there's something resembling a growl coming from his throat before he freezes up himself, arms stiffening and the familiar itching that seemed to accompany his scales appearing starting to come up. ]
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[ And now it was Yoon-sung's turn to look at David and try to soothe him from whatever he was seeing, though he had a harder time with the scales. He tried all the same, avoiding the main patches to rub his back soothingly. ]
Hey, you alright?
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[ The growling subsides, and he takes a deep breath. The scales have definitely made their appearance, but outside that, he's doing okay. Though the images that were flashing in front of him weren't exactly very soothing. ]
But apparently Fafnir didn't get along with his family.
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