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( fuck it we ball )
In the year of 3072, the heirs to each of the Nine Houses gathered together for the first time in millennia.
Minghao looks like a walking corpse.
That's the best and most succinct way Junhui can describe her. Her legs are as thin as twigs and her arms are even thinner than that. Every time she walks Junhui holds her breath with bated anticipation, waiting for the moment for one of Minghao's own knees to knock herself out.
The black hair only accentuates the paleness of her skin and the painted blue-green sometimes even purple veins resting just below the surface of Minghao's skin. Junhui likes to daydream of running her hands through that short-cropped hair, to the longer tufts in the back. She imagines twirling her fingers in those silky smooth strands, her other hand dancing up Minghao's nape and caressing those knobby parts of her cervical vertebrae.
"Minghao would look great with long hair," Junhui sighs.
"Uh-huh," Jihoon answers, noncommittal.
Minghao is a walking corpse, all sharp edges and bone that could break at any moment. She trails behind Mingyu like a shadow of a shadow. The winds here are fierce. It's always a pleasant surprise that Minghao hasn't been blown off the cliff and into the ocean yet.
So, when Junhui spars Minghao for the first time, she grins at the clash of steel.
"That's a pretty hefty swing you have," Junhui laughs, "Though not as pretty as you."
Minghao's eyes narrow into two dangerous slits. Junhui only avoids the tip of the blade by jumping out of the way and rolling ungracefully across the dirt.
Minghao looks like a walking corpse and moves as lithe as a shadow, but she swings her sword with the force of a two-handed longsword.
you look like an accident
Junhui is not bad at using a rapier. It's just not her weapon of choice. Not by a long shot.
No, she much rather grip steel that she can swing down, blade hissing through the air as her muscles tighten with effort. Big and heavy, Junhui's only two requirements. She likes her longsword for that reason. A compromise, Jihoon had called it when Junhui had whined about not being able to bring her scythe with them. Nothing feels better than the weight in her hands, the familiar hiss through the air as she swings the sword around for practice.
Once, back on [planet], Junhui had taken an old bat and stuck a bunch of metal spikes onto it. It was great on the battlefield. The dizzy rush of adrenaline, the height of battle— everything rushing to her head all at once. People ran from her like they ran from the necromancers.
The bat is still somewhere in her old room. Jihoon wouldn't let her bring that either.
And if you're wondering about the whole point of this tangent, well Junhui is just about to get there.
The whole point is that Junhui is bored. So so very bored. And Jihoon has been holed up in his room since they've gotten to Caanan House and still hasn't asked her for help like he promised he would so Junhui has done the next best thing: attach herself to the object of her affections and annoy the hell out of her.
See, if asked, Junhui didn't mean to pester Minghao until she finally snapped and finally agreed to Junhui's ludicruous requests of a duel. Who challenges a necromancer to a duel anyways? Their arms are always so skinny and thin and look like they can snap off at any moment. More importantly though, what kind of necromancer actually accepts?
If Mingyu were here, Junhui would duel her and wink at the shadows, from where Minghao would definitely be watching, but Mingyu isn't here. Junhui grins at the clash of steel and she laughs as Minghao manages to land a kick on her chest.
"You have a lot of strength for someone who looks like a twig," Junhui wheezes. Her breath has been knocked out of her for more reasons than one. Maybe Minghao’s arms aren’t sticks and bones, like the rest of her body is. Minghao should really take off all those layers of swooshing, dramatically gothic black. They’re so inconvenient in a fight. Maybe Junhui should just cut through the cloth instead but she’s already been pushing her lock.
"And you just look like an accident," Minghao scoffs, rapier trailing on the dirt as she approaches the bushes Junhui is now lying in.
"I’m not good with rapiers, I prefer using my bat," Junhui grins cheekily. She brushes the leaves out of her hair, ignoring the way her chest is already starting to hurt. Tomorrow, she's going to have a million cuts and bruises.
"Of course you use a bat," Minghao scowls, nose wrinkling up in the way Junhui has come to grow so fond of this past month.
"When we get off this planet I can show you it," Junhui chirps. "Screwed in all the spikes myself!"
"You mean if," Minghao corrects. She frowns. Junhui's just happy that she hasn't declined the invitation.
dancing with skeletons
"The fucker," Jihoon mutters as he paces back and forth in between his room. "I can't believe he's already gotten one of the keys."
"Who?" Junhui inquires. "Wonwoo?"
Jihoon stills. "What." The papers in his hand crinkle into a fist-sized ball. The sound echoes off the walls of the decaying rot.
Junhui winces. "Minghao told me she saw Wonwoo come out from [describe entrance] the other day. Then I overheard Chan and Wonwoo in the halls later that day." The two of them were quite loud. Well, rather, Chan's whisper is more of another person's regular voice and his regular voice is more of a shouting voice. His swordsmanship is just as loud.
Junhui watches as Jihoon glowers at the books on his desk. More accurately, she and Minghao had seen Wonwoo emerge from the [adj] entrance, covered in dust. She's taken to following Minghao around these days because apparently Jihoon still doesn't need her help at solving any of the trials. Junhui can feel the tips of her ears warm as she thinks about the look on Minghao's face minutes before they were interuppted by the drab, bespectacled scholar.
"Fuck," Jihoon pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was actually referring to everyone's favorite bone-raging, skeleton-loving necromancer. But great to know we have more competition. Did Minghao tell you anything else?"
"No," Junhui lies. She thinks of those thin, cold fingers cupping her jaw. "She didn't tell me anything else."
man i wish i had as big of a brain as tamsyn muir
the beginning...
In the year of 3072, the heirs to each of the Nine Houses gathered together for the first time in millennia.
Minghao looks like a walking corpse.
That's the best and most succinct way Junhui can describe her. Her legs are as thin as twigs and her arms are even thinner than that. Every time she walks Junhui holds her breath with bated anticipation, waiting for the moment for one of Minghao's own knees to knock herself out.
The black hair only accentuates the paleness of her skin and the painted blue-green sometimes even purple veins resting just below the surface of Minghao's skin. Junhui likes to daydream of running her hands through that short-cropped hair, to the longer tufts in the back. She imagines twirling her fingers in those silky smooth strands, her other hand dancing up Minghao's nape and caressing those knobby parts of her cervical vertebrae.
"Minghao would look great with long hair," Junhui sighs.
"Uh-huh," Jihoon answers, noncommittal.
Minghao is a walking corpse, all sharp edges and bone that could break at any moment. She trails behind Mingyu like a shadow of a shadow. The winds here are fierce. It's always a pleasant surprise that Minghao hasn't been blown off the cliff and into the ocean yet.
So, when Junhui spars Minghao for the first time, she grins at the clash of steel.
"That's a pretty hefty swing you have," Junhui laughs, "Though not as pretty as you."
Minghao's eyes narrow into two dangerous slits. Junhui only avoids the tip of the blade by jumping out of the way and rolling ungracefully across the dirt.
Minghao looks like a walking corpse and moves as lithe as a shadow, but she swings her sword with the force of a two-handed longsword.
you look like an accident
originally written for a twitter prompt fill for em!
Junhui is not bad at using a rapier. It's just not her weapon of choice. Not by a long shot.
No, she much rather grip steel that she can swing down, blade hissing through the air as her muscles tighten with effort. Big and heavy, Junhui's only two requirements. She likes her longsword for that reason. A compromise, Jihoon had called it when Junhui had whined about not being able to bring her scythe with them. Nothing feels better than the weight in her hands, the familiar hiss through the air as she swings the sword around for practice.
Once, back on [planet], Junhui had taken an old bat and stuck a bunch of metal spikes onto it. It was great on the battlefield. The dizzy rush of adrenaline, the height of battle— everything rushing to her head all at once. People ran from her like they ran from the necromancers.
The bat is still somewhere in her old room. Jihoon wouldn't let her bring that either.
And if you're wondering about the whole point of this tangent, well Junhui is just about to get there.
The whole point is that Junhui is bored. So so very bored. And Jihoon has been holed up in his room since they've gotten to Caanan House and still hasn't asked her for help like he promised he would so Junhui has done the next best thing: attach herself to the object of her affections and annoy the hell out of her.
See, if asked, Junhui didn't mean to pester Minghao until she finally snapped and finally agreed to Junhui's ludicruous requests of a duel. Who challenges a necromancer to a duel anyways? Their arms are always so skinny and thin and look like they can snap off at any moment. More importantly though, what kind of necromancer actually accepts?
If Mingyu were here, Junhui would duel her and wink at the shadows, from where Minghao would definitely be watching, but Mingyu isn't here. Junhui grins at the clash of steel and she laughs as Minghao manages to land a kick on her chest.
"You have a lot of strength for someone who looks like a twig," Junhui wheezes. Her breath has been knocked out of her for more reasons than one. Maybe Minghao’s arms aren’t sticks and bones, like the rest of her body is. Minghao should really take off all those layers of swooshing, dramatically gothic black. They’re so inconvenient in a fight. Maybe Junhui should just cut through the cloth instead but she’s already been pushing her lock.
"And you just look like an accident," Minghao scoffs, rapier trailing on the dirt as she approaches the bushes Junhui is now lying in.
"I’m not good with rapiers, I prefer using my bat," Junhui grins cheekily. She brushes the leaves out of her hair, ignoring the way her chest is already starting to hurt. Tomorrow, she's going to have a million cuts and bruises.
"Of course you use a bat," Minghao scowls, nose wrinkling up in the way Junhui has come to grow so fond of this past month.
"When we get off this planet I can show you it," Junhui chirps. "Screwed in all the spikes myself!"
"You mean if," Minghao corrects. She frowns. Junhui's just happy that she hasn't declined the invitation.
dancing with skeletons
guess who the bone-raging, skeleton-loving necromancer is :^)
"The fucker," Jihoon mutters as he paces back and forth in between his room. "I can't believe he's already gotten one of the keys."
"Who?" Junhui inquires. "Wonwoo?"
Jihoon stills. "What." The papers in his hand crinkle into a fist-sized ball. The sound echoes off the walls of the decaying rot.
Junhui winces. "Minghao told me she saw Wonwoo come out from [describe entrance] the other day. Then I overheard Chan and Wonwoo in the halls later that day." The two of them were quite loud. Well, rather, Chan's whisper is more of another person's regular voice and his regular voice is more of a shouting voice. His swordsmanship is just as loud.
Junhui watches as Jihoon glowers at the books on his desk. More accurately, she and Minghao had seen Wonwoo emerge from the [adj] entrance, covered in dust. She's taken to following Minghao around these days because apparently Jihoon still doesn't need her help at solving any of the trials. Junhui can feel the tips of her ears warm as she thinks about the look on Minghao's face minutes before they were interuppted by the drab, bespectacled scholar.
"Fuck," Jihoon pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was actually referring to everyone's favorite bone-raging, skeleton-loving necromancer. But great to know we have more competition. Did Minghao tell you anything else?"
"No," Junhui lies. She thinks of those thin, cold fingers cupping her jaw. "She didn't tell me anything else."
man i wish i had as big of a brain as tamsyn muir
