Chuck could probably count the number of times he’d actually driven a car on one hand. In New York, no one in their right mind drove, not in that kind of traffic. You hired someone else to drive. Either through taxi or chauffeur.
Even in Jeju, Chuck usually hailed a cab or was simply picked up by a vacationing millionaire. Sure, he liked cars. He could name the top luxury cars and all of their features simply because he’d (almost literally) had rode in all of them over the years… but practical knowledge? Like actually driving one?
…that was a different story.
Chuck took a moment to adjust his seat, strap himself in, and glance over the dashboard to acquaint himself with the locations of things. While he fidgeted, he immediately took notice of the fact that Sungjin openly stared at him. Not in the admiring way most men did, but in an appraising way, like Chuck had monetary value.
Then Chuck noticed the gun wedged between the center console and the passenger seat. It gleamed bright blue from the car’s interior lights but Chuck acted like he hadn’t even noticed.
Halfway through the next tune that blared through the speakers of the area came yet another change in movement for the female. In the span of ten seconds since the last command, Jihyun shifted from a simple, sensual formula filled with slow waves and hip gyrations to a quicker, more intense routine of further exposing her legs and pushing her chest outwards—akin to dances she knew were popular in the city.
But of course the effort wasn’t enough for Byungchul—hadn’t been for the past minute and a half—and so, without even blinking an eye, he uttered a third instruction, this time far shorter than before.
“More persuasion.”
Then he turned away from the female for a short instant, calling a nearby waiter and requesting him to bring the glasses that were left behind atop their previous table. She took a moment to glance at the rest who were seated on either side of the politician, noting that the entire group was still complete, with the other males looking more engrossed in her actions than Byungchul ever was.
It wasn’t exactly the outcome she intended to achieve.
Sungjin led Chuck outside, the early February air was bracing and bone-cutting, but Chuck didn’t even have the chance to shiver as he was led outdoors and off to the side of the building where valets patrolled the parking lot filled to the brim with overly-expensive cars.
Sungjin retrieved his keys from the valet after flashing his ID but insisted that he go and get his own car rather than having it brought to him.
Chuck hated how most of the cars looked. Even with so much money fed to them, the majority of them looked just like any other car you’d find on the road… but Sungjin’s Koenigsegg stood out among the rows and rows of vehicles. It gleamed beneath the street lights and, even when it stood still, it seemed to breathe with life and power.
As they continued along the path past the bar and towards the stage of the lounge, she realized that simply moving along with Byungchul and his group would be the easiest part of the night from this point on. Performing with a group of other girls who actually made a living out of the obscene dancing that occurred a minimal amount of seven times daily made the process more bearable, in the very least. But she was always meant to handle this part of the assignment by herself, so when the man and the rest of his companions came to a stop at the stairs on the side of the platform, Jihyun knew there was no turning back.
If anything, she could only look ahead.
“Mr. Hong, good evening.” The words from the woman that handled her troupe were marked with utmost respect and politeness, with the following bow a supplement for the emotions. The manager’s actions were met only by a barely noticeable nod from the politician, though his focused eyes told anyone who looked that his attention was only on her. “Is there anything in particular I could help you with?”
There was no hesitation in the man’s voice as he opened his mouth to speak.
“She’s ours until I’m done with her.”
/lets his head nod a few times again along with her words, though he’s not sure what to find in them - if anything; of course, he’s just as surprise as any of the first ranks - though really that just meant Changmin - that he’d managed to last this long consider who he was and how he acted and how hard it had been to adjust to this lifestyle that was a complete one-eighty to his lifestyle back in Seoul with his brother and their father and their father and their seemingly endless supply of money and servants and respect; doesn’t break the silence when she stops speaking, instead simply leaning on the bar and letting his gaze wander a little; he’s close enough to her to listen to her thoughts, but he doesn’t comment on any of them, keeping his mouth shut and his gaze distracted anywhere but her - at least until she speaks again; looks towards her when she poses the question, though it lingers only for a moment before it begins to wander again./ They’re… interesting.. /comments slowly, opting for a safe answer./ Some of… the… first ranks… especially.
*during yet another seemingly long moment of silence that pervades the atmosphere following her question—which was tediously generic, more than anything—she makes no protest to speak, simply allowing the male to gather whatever thoughts he may have before he responds; as the seconds pass, she thinks he’s coming off as the quiet, timid type, one who doesn’t speak much unless conversed with first—they’re all qualities she knows had a place in her personality quite a long time ago, though she doesn’t allow the contemplation to fully grow in her brain as she once again diverts her attention to the conversation at hand; her eyes never left his face, so she closely watches whatever expression may cross his face as he talks, each word from his lips coming at a gradual pace that makes it seem as if he has some trouble with voicing his inner musings—but she makes no oral comment on the impression, opting instead to take a few more graceful sips of the liquid before placing the glass on the counter, slightly adjusting the position of her arm so that her chin now rests on a few fingers as she rests her elbow on the table* Interesting would be quite the understatement, I believe. Whom have you met amongst them?
(Source: xmen-jihyun)
(/her smile began to fade as she noticed the stiffness of the girl. she blinks a few times and quietly looks down at her wallet before placing it in her bag) Uh.. yes. I’m an Institution student. (/says slowly, not liking where this was going. she had a feeling that the girl was just going to keep talking down about the institution. it was something the blonde wanted to avoid at all cost.) My type? What is exactly my type? (/she asked) Not all of the institution students are an airhead like me. (/nods her head, admitting that she’s knows that her airheadness might be a downfall for her)
*notices the shift in the other’s mood, the sudden change in expression nothing but noticeable to her; continues to listen carefully to the girl as she speaks, eyes naturally fixed on her companion’s face—noting how open many individuals are with their sentiments is always quite an amusing process; when the other finishes, she doesn’t really feel any emotion towards the reaction, so she maintains the neutrality both on her features and in her voice* It wasn’t that… quality I was referring to, specifically.*takes a brief moment to pause, as if to allow the words to sink into the other’s mind* Simply the fact that you are part of the Institution. As a whole, it presents its students and staff as a group with entirely different objectives—and personalities, nonetheless.
(Source: xmen-jihyun)
Chuck made his way out of the VIP lounge and out into the much more brightly lit lobby area beyond.
The Cafe de Reves must see a steady stream of new employees, Chuck considered, because as many employees as he walked past and none of them seemed to look at him with any suspicion or even curiosity. Just friendly air-kisses from the performers and acknowledging tilts of the heads from the waiters and ushers.
Chuck relaxed, having already mastered the art of Acting Like He Belonged back in New York, but he couldn’t afford to chat or sip from offered champagne glasses. “I’m on break,” he repeated like a broken record, shooing people away as he wandered away from the main area and towards the dimly-lit maze of hallways that seemed to act as the veins of this place. They weren’t quiet affairs. No, the hallways thrummed with noise and movement as Cafe employees rushed this way and that, ducking through doors or chattering to each other a mile a minute.
It truly was like a theater. All calm and carefully practiced movements on the outside, but pull back the curtain and it was complete chaos.
Chuck wandered all the way out to one of the exits of the buildings, the chilly, wintry air gusting into the stuffy hall. He was growing frustrated. He’d wandered around for fifteen or so minutes and hadn’t seen any indication of-
“Vivienne Lu?” The words left his slack-jawed mouth before he had a chance to stop them.
The next round of liquor she received from the busy bartender sent a fresh wave of reinvigoration rushing through her veins, the sensation accommodating each subsequent footstep from that point on. As she navigated her way back to table ten, Jihyun could tell it wouldn’t be difficult to lure Byungchul right into her trap—as if the earlier interaction wasn’t evidence enough. It was simply a matter of playing the cards in the correct manner, of adjusting the chess pieces according to the best strategy. In a few clever, well-schemed moves, a checkmate would be secured, with the King cornered, utilized, and rightfully eliminated. The outcome was precisely what she intended to reach by the end of the assignment, and hell if she wasn’t already on a steady path towards it.
Perhaps the role of the dancer and occasional waitress had been in her favor all along.
Of course, throughout the brief, swift walk she carried out, some of the other performers and women who were actual waitresses periodically crossed her path. The traffic was to be expected; after all, the lounge increased in business as the hour darkened. It was only by the poise and control with which she carried herself that she was able to avoid any sort of collision with the other individuals.
About a minute or so passed before the female was again able to reach her destination, newly filled tray in hand and coiffed hair still undamaged, despite all the activities she’d already performed. With minimal effort, she stepped forward to politely position herself in between the seats of Byungchul and the woman to his right, fingers deftly lifting the bottle by its neck as she signaled to the male through means of a nod.
“Sir, your Cuervo.” It inwardly pained her to utter such submissive words to a man of their kind, but like most everything else she’d experienced that night, the phrase was becoming a habit for the job.
He only grunted in response, moving in his seat so that half of his torso was turned towards her.
“Took you long enough.”
As the night moved on and on, growing ever deeper as midnight came and went, the crowd in the VIP area thickened.
Chuck kept a watchful eye on Jihyun up on stage, rather surprised that the conservative woman could move so sensually without coming off as forced or stiff. Chuck had to applaud her. They’d only had an armful of hours to prepare for the mission.
Satisfied that she was doing alright, Chuck went back to his own task.
It was a bit of a struggle, he realized, to keep himself from giving in to his role as host completely. Although the conversations were rather banal and dry, the women were still dressed impeccably and he swooned at the designer names they rattled off when he asked who they were wearing. The men, of course, had no idea what brand names their suits were because their wives and mistresses had picked them out… but Chuck couldn’t get mad. The men were his target. He was on a mission.
He could only control his anger at their disrespect for the greats of the fashion world and just smile and nod as they turned the conversation towards things they knew more of: women, business, politics, anti-mutant laws they were lobbying to get passed.
Chuck tapped his front pocket, just to ensure the audio recorder was still there.
Already, one of the other girls on the Brotherhood team was moving in on one of the targets: middle-aged with graying hair and a large, round belly.
Better you than me, hun, he thought to himself.
Shifting between the stage and the lounge floors wasn’t as arduous a task as she initially thought.
Within the past one hundred and twenty-minutes of working her role at the place, of putting all that she learned about seduction and neo-burlesque in the two or so hours they had for preparation into action, Jihyun could honestly admit that she’d gotten accustomed to the routine. No, she still didn’t harbor even the slightest amount of approval for the activity, but at least her body wasn’t tainted by the touches of the humans. Her dignity and pride as both a woman and a mutant were still very much intact; rather, it was her skill of adaptability that was affected by the entire situation.
Fortunately, it was more of a positive development than anything else—Brotherhood members had to be flexible to circumstances.
Once her part for what seemed to be the hundredth performance of the night was through (though the actual number was a far cry from the perceived figure), the female returned to the rear end of the stage, moving behind the curtains until she and the rest of the troupe were completely out of sight. The guidelines of the lounge dictated that, after every show, the dancers would have to devote roughly ten to fifteen minutes of their time to entertain the guests up front. Fulfilling needs such as delivering drinks and foods to the tables definitely had a place on the agenda, as did going along with the superficial conversations the customers started. Physical contact, however, was thankfully still out of the question; as such, the rules only made it that much easier for the female to complete her job.
She’d caught the slightest, distant glimpse of Chuck during her time on the stage, noting his movements with the mildest approval. Along with the image of the male came that of the politician she’d specifically set her sights on. Without further ado, the female stepped off the stage and headed straight to the bar, awaiting the tray of alcohol left for her to bring.
Hours were running like thinning threads, and she needed to act faster.
—KPOPXMEN | Nam Jihyun, mission wardrobe.
Café des Rêves—Jihyun as a neo-burlesque performer❝ … After a premiere, the political officials will be checking into a luxurious jazz bar/lounge called Café des Rêves in Seoul. Compared to most neighborhoods, this lounge has a few buildings around it, but is heavily guarded for the occasion. Two recruits will take out the guards and secure the perimeter in disguise as the guards. The six female Brotherhood members will then infiltrate the lounge and take over the employees’ roles (bartender, singer, waitress, etc) in a private lounge reserved for the honored guests. The murder will wait until all of their conversations are chronicled on an audio recorder each member will take with them on the mission. Question and pry as much as possible.❞
/is far too used to being scrutinized in every way, shape and form to let the action get to him - mentally, at least; averts his gaze as she watches him, lower lip pulled between his teeth as he slowly dragged them across the skin, and slides his hands into his pocket./ Training is… tough… /comments calmly as he sits and shifts his weight around to try and get comfortable, his gaze occasionally passing over her but never lingering./ Tiring… Painful… but it’s… fun, in a way… somehow. /isn’t quite sure how he ever managed to reach that conclusion, but he doesn’t question it because enjoying training makes it easier for him to not just go to it but to be able to put his all into it and properly improve; watches her ordering a drink and shakes his head at the offer./ Um… no… thank you… I’m okay…
*finds it somewhat funny how someone as timid as he could have lasted for more than a month within the alliance, because recruits of the same nature from his level—her previous one—are usually kicked out after a few weeks, given that they didn’t complete their training; but he seems to have done quite the opposite, so she reserves any other possible opinions for later, when their encounter is done in full; nods once in response to the statements he give, believing the answers to be honest—that in itself is satisfactory enough* Naturally, though you’ll grow accustomed to it. After all, you survived the first thirty days, and if you have the will, you shall surpass that limit.*she’s obviously maintaining the civility without it seeming like outright friendliness, but at this point, there isn’t at all a reason for her to showcase harshness towards the male; when he declines the offer, she merely turns back to the counter, allowing a few seconds of verbal silence to carry on until her drink arrives*—*carefully lifts the glass to her lips as she takes a sip, gazing once more towards the male when she’s through* The Brotherhood, then—or what you’ve met of us so far. Your thoughts on the individuals here?
(Source: xmen-jihyun)
-nods, turning her head to smile at the other woman as she carved out a piece of cake for her- I think that’s why we get along so well, to be honest. One of the reasons, anyway. -carefully puts the cake on the dish, bringing it over, singing to her, not failing to notice the tiny smile. She knows that that in of itself is how the other shows what she’s feeling, so she takes that as a good sign- No need to thank me. We’re friends, right? What friend wouldn’t want to celebrate her friend’s birthday? -nods, follows her instructions, cutting herself a piece- This looks good. -puts it on a plate and looks at her friend- Dig in!
*returns the words with the slight inclination of her head* Perhaps. Certainly it is one of the most significant factors.—*when the other states there is no need for gratitude, she almost feels the necessity to object to the notion; it isn’t often that she’s greeted with such cheer on this occasion, and so she does believe the Yuri at least has the right to be thanked for her actions, although instead of voicing her thoughts out, she instead permits the smile to grow a tad bit wider—the look on her face is surely reward enough for the other; offers a slight shrug of a shoulder at the remarks, however* I suppose. Celebrating the event has never been one of my biggest priorities, although tonight can be an exception.*after watching the other claim her slice, she continues to eat bits from her own, relishing the taste of each bite, hoping to preserve it in her memory for times to come*
(Source: xmen-jihyun)
-nods, feeling a small wave of relief pass over her as she realizes that the other won’t judge her for the things she had done in the past and gives her a very smile smile- We do. And I’m not proud of some of it, though it helped me become what I am now, so it wasn’t all for naught. -now can laugh a bit nervously as the other noticed that she had sort of glossed over her other question- I guess…bathroom activities? And…alone time activities? -looks away, feeling a bit ashamed that she’s talking about this with Jihyun, but she just knows what a lot of people look forward to when they end up in the other gender’s body-
*shifts slightly in her position so that she smooths the hem of her top, gaze never leaving the face of the other’s despite the actions she executes* Of course, pride doesn’t necessarily have to be present. Experience is the best teacher, as they say. I suppose you and I should know that.—*at the mention of what types of activities the woman was referring to, she allows a slight, almost confused—but barely—frown to crinkle her forehead, causing a slight dip in the skin of the area* … Are you perhaps referring to pursuits of an erotic nature? *inwardly bites her lip after uttering the word, because she isn’t exactly comfortable with discussing such a topic; but if that’s where Yuri intends to lead the conversation… well, she won’t protest against it*
