Phrase: 044. I can hardly wait and 050. What on Earth are you talking about?
Characters: Krysin's Remi and Hae-min
Soundtrack: None

She smoothed wrinkles from her fine silk hanbok and glanced across the table again. The blond-haired American boy stared at her shamelessly, a little moue of discontent on his face. Hae-min didn't feel so wonderful either. They had been sitting here, listening to their parents talk about ancient concepts like dowry and protection of the line for two hours now. It was especially worse for her, already knowing that this was her matsueon. A marriage meeting- and she was barely twelve years old. And he, her husband-to-be, hadn't a year over eight on him. She glanced at him another time, hoping he'd be a little older- a little less childish-looking. It was not really her place to hope that this- Remiel- could have been... older than her. Wiser, like Seung's husband, or even stronger, like Iseul's. No. Instead, she had to marry the eight-year-old.

After another five minutes of quiet, they were sent outside to the gardens to sit on a bench and talk. Hae-min sat stonily silent, staring with vigor at a bleeding heart. "Hi," said Remi finally, in a piping voice. This would have been fine- except she didn't speak English. She had no clue what he said.

"/That's not Korean/," she responded, in Korean. She tilted her head and wondered if he'd just insulted her. It certainly seemed to be in that short, abrupt manner Gin-hul and Tae-yul used to snap off rude words.

The boy stared at her uncomprehendingly for a minute, then said in a soft tone, "Do you speak English, even?"

...Except she didn't know that either. What they needed was a translator. They didn't have that. Lacking it, she had to make an effort to communicate through another fashion. With a distracted look, she peered around and gestured with one hand for him to follow. Together they tripped into one of the anterooms, where she found her older sister Song-Hee. "I don't speak his language," she said in Korean, with a pleading look on her face. For a minute, Song-Hee looked like she was going to laugh, but then she pulled both children onto the cushions next to her. Hae-min looked at Remi for a moment, then leaned up to her sister and whispered what she wanted to say."Hello, Remiel," Song-Hee translated to the boy. And when he gave his response- call him Remi, everyone did, and hello to her too- she translated that, too.

Time passed, and the two got down to the serious business of talking through Song-Hee, who took the time out of stitching embroidery on a hanbok to give the messages to one child or another. For a very long time, that was how it worked- the two engaged children talking through one who knew both languages. It would not change for a very long time.

Phrase: 054. She dropped the knife and 071. The lights went out
Character: Moriah, Hae-min
Soundtrack: Race the Dream- Kill Hannah
Goodnight- The Birthday Massacre

She cut the strawberries over a bowl of cheerios, with one careful eye to the clock. Soon enough, her guest would be here, and she didn't intend to have any sharp implements around. Just in case, because this niece was rumored to be a little unstable, for all the supposed fact that she looked like Hae-min. Moriah would be here in fifteen seconds, if she was on time-

The lights went out, and Hae-min dropped the knife with a resounding clatter. Rather than seeing, she heard the bowl of cereal spill across the table. The knife must have fallen into it, which wasn't so bad as it falling on her, but... Moriah probably had the better night vision and after their last meeting in Seoul she didn't want the girl to have any opportunity to get at her with a weapon. She knew better than to scramble and look for it, so she simply held still, with the strawberry half-cut in one hand. "Niece Moriah," she said softly, "Please turn lights on."

"Why? You're scared." Like she had thought, her niece was present, and from the sound, somewhere on the wall with the door. Probably near the lightswitch. Light footsteps came over to the table, or at the very least closer to Hae-min. "I'm never scared. That's why you should be the one who has to change."

"There nothing wrong us being similar."

"There's a lot wrong with it, you bitch," came the banshee shriek, accompanied with a blow to the back of Min's head. She put out a hand to catch herself, and knew she'd at least found the knife when a dull, throbbing pain began around the first knuckles of her fingers. A thin cry of pain escaped her before she could clamp down on that impulse, and was rewarded with a quiet chuckle.

Phrase: 047. Picking berries from the bush
Character: Liadan Naoshe, Engel Rademacher, Mhin Hae-min
Sountrack: Freedom- Colony 5
I Am The Scum- Scum of the Earth
Smothered- Ego Likeness
Malevolent Symphony- Hate in the Box
Cheap Shot- Deathboy
Vena Cava- Angelspit
True- Akira Yamaoka
Notes: I wanted to write, and my friend Chrys wanted to read something about Min at work. XD; so I wrote something. ILU CHRYS.

Hae-min hummed a happy, quiet tune as she rolled the bread dough about the counter. One end to the other, but only as far as the flour stretched or it would get stuck. She could hear the owners shouting at each other in the kitchen, which was why she was out here on the marble front counter. Also, as the boss-of-all-bosses had said, it was good to show that the products of the bakery really were made right there. (She wouldn't pretend she didn't also love the attention.)

Suddenly, in the back, it went deadly silent. That had never, in her whole week of work, been a good sign. Once, Engel had chased Liadan out into the street hefting a large danish. It had been very, very scary, especially the way his sister seemed to take his threats of beheading her with the danish very, very seriously. She hunched up her shoulders and kneaded the dough a little harder.

“I can't. Believe. You said that.” Oh yes, Liadanim sounded very angry indeed. Hae-min would stay right here, out of the kitchen. Until they came out here, in which case, she would go in the kitchen and maybe hide under the sink. Things were smacking into each other with a wet slapping sound, which she knew to be either icing or uncooked cookies. Surely that meant they would stay in the kitchen, since they had patrons out here? She kept thinking that until something sticky and cold collided with the back of her head.

Engel smiled worriedly from in front of her. “Uh, sorry, Minnie, didn't think she'd actually risk hitting you.” Something was in her hair. Something sticky, and wet, and cold. She blinked once- twice- three times. Then a blob of the icing- for that's what it was- landed squarely on her left hand. “Lia, stop hitting Minnie,” he shouted, just in time to get a mouthful of vanilla icing.

Then the icing fight started in earnest, with Min hiding under one of the counters and trying to get the icing out of her hair. Various warlike sounds reached her, even with fingers plugged in her ears, but she was too busy rescuing her most treasured possession- her long black locks. Almost fifteen minutes later, she tentatively poked her head out and hurried over to the sink. Even with the vigorous protection of a granite countertop, she still had enough icing on her to cover a cake from top to toe. She sighed and stuck her hair in the cavernous sink first, running water hot enough to scald. Oh, this was just going to ruin her precious hair...

Someone stepped up behind her and she halfway straightened, but ended up running into the faucet. “Ow,” she grumbled, even as Engel bent over her to help her get the icing out of her hair. “Engelnim, you stand too close.” To make her point, she wriggled a little and was rewarded with an irritated grunt.

“Minnie, just Engel, or En or whatever. At any rate, that isn't gonna make me move away, you know.”

She screeched her fury at such a lewd comment and twisted away. “You dare!” Her hair, wet but free of icing, draped over her shoulders in such a way that though the white silk shirt was now nearly transparent, not much could be seen than if her shirt had been completely dry. But she noticed Engel looking. To what appeared to be disappointment, she crossed her arms over her breasts and gave him a disgusted look.

It looked like he was going to turn away, but then the strangest expression came over his face. Hae-min cautiously took a step back towards the piece of counter that lifted to let the staff get into the shop and kept the staff out. He followed, then leaned close and licked the side of her face. She screamed and hurried to the other side of the counter, as red as a cherry.

“A bit of icing,” he said calmly, pointing to the corresponding spot on his own face as to where he'd licked her. “Right there. Don't worry, I got it off.” She couldn't even get enough ire up to shriek at him again. Hae-min just stomped one foot on the white-and-black tiled floor and fled outside.

"I going home," she shouted over one shoulder, leaving one confused Liadan and a very prideful Engel behind.

Phrase: 048. We used to sneak into the neighbours garden
Character: Liadan Naoshe
Soundtrack: None

I am not allowed to drive.

This sucks, because it's hot out, and there's a nice convertible, and I want to go speeding down the highway into the sunset. But just once you run into a tree, just once you run a couple stop signs, and suddenly they don't let you drive anymore. It's totally suckish, right? Yeah...

See, there's this girl. She works at this bakery my twin and I run. Her name's Hae-min or something ridiculous, but we call her Minnie. Minnie, because she acts like a mouse. Bah. She irritates me. My twin likes her, though. Says she adds necessary cute. “All bakeries should have cute.” I should be all the cute he needs, damn it. And some little Korean hussy isn't gonna displace me. Except I don't really mind. It's nice to have another uterus around.

If she knew I'd just referred to her as a uterus, she would cry. That's rather cute, I guess. As irritating little Koreans go, anyway. She's cute when she cries. I should make her do it more often. It was funny when my brother licked her. She screams like a girl, which is appropriate, I guess, because she is. Mmm. Maybe that's why I'm not all the cute the bakery needs. Because she blushes and cries. Egh, I'm not always so focused on other people.

Hmm. This girl gets all her friends in to come visit her. Okay, so it's only been someone she called her older brother and a funny dark-haired guy. But she was crazy happy to see them. Minnie. Ha. Minnie the mouse... I'm not so popular as her. God, I've been here since it opened and she works here one damn week...

I hope that guy was serious about killing my brother. That'd be nice. He's really bothersome to me today.

Phrase: 049. She had suntanned skin
Character: Engel Rademacher
Soundtrack: Living Too Fast- Black Labs
Amphetamine Zoo- Deathboy
Remember One Thing- Wumpscut

ID: 0001A
Time: 23:16 06 06 08
Listening To: Angry stomping, duh
Mood: x 3x

It was a stupid move, yeah, but... Sometimes I just can't help it. D: I'll have to apologize to Minnie. If that Italian doesn't get me first, he looked strong enough to rip off my face. (It's a nice face, I totally approve of it.) >___>

As for the stupid move, I licked my employee's face. (There was icing on it and some people might not have taken it as such an innocent thing out on the street and I'll admit I could have used my hand buuuttt. She didn't look like she would have stood for that. Before I licked her, I kind stood like right behind her. In my defense, she has a nice ass. And a nice face. The only thing I'd change is her cup size...)

Liadan's angry with me for some reason. She says she hates Minnie, but I don't think she does >____> She's so overprotective~

Phrase: 045. It was a scorching hot Christmas
Characters: Peter Sokolof
Soundtrack: “the bottom of chaos” album; Rentrer en Soi

Ice cream was a rare treat- not because they couldn't afford it, but because it wasn't Korean. The Mhin father did not approve of things that didn't originate inside the borders of their homeland, except for Christianity. That was the reason the entire clan, even disowned Iseul, knelt around the table with a small rice bowl full of chocolate ice cream before them. I was the only non-Korean at the table; in fact, the only reason I was allowed to be present was because my wife is the eldest daughter. Seung gave me a beautiful daughter and I loved her, but I wanted a son. She was pregnant again, after twenty years. Of course I worried. She wasn't seventeen anymore.

I was right to be worried.

Phrase: 046. We'll make it fly
Character: Kreszent Saint
Soundtrack: My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult- A Daisy Chain for Satan

The thing in the box mocked him. He could see it in every single pore, every curve, every minuscule dip in the expensive wax wrapping. The gibe was even in the damn perky handwriting on the packaging. 'In Switzerland. Thinking of you, dumbass.' Obviously, though, the sender of the package wasn't thinking of Kreszant. Must be thinking of some other dumbass, because he was lactose intolerant. While he understood and acknowledged stupidity in himself, general idiocy on the behalf of others was something he was not well equipped to deal with. Sending the lactose intolerant kid a round of Swiss- very nice swiss, he was sure- happened to be one of the most moronic things he could think of to do. He picked up the box and walked over to the edge of the balcony outside his room. The box of cheese, he held as far away from himself as his arms allowed.

Kreszant didn't have to deal with this. He could pick up the cheese and bring it to his dad, sans the note, and essentially re-gift it. The idiot who sent it probably thought he was being really funny. Like the time when that moron stole his mask- probably thinking to cause a huge commotion, Phantom of the Opera-esque, with whatever hideous deformity was hiding under it. Wasn't that bastard surprised when there was nothing wrong with his face? He just liked to wear a mask.

Actually, the round of cheese looked really dynamic. Aerodynamic, that is, and he would know, because he'd spent the entire day today watching cars being tested for pressure drag and reading the results. Hefting the box, he examined it from all angles. Yes, Kres decided, this box and the cheese inside just longed to fly.

He drew his arms back (still keeping the cheese as far from himself as possible) and then hurled it over the edge of the balcony. The flying cheese was a gorgeous sight as it spiraled over and over itself, loosening itself from its wooden case and spinning free, free, free--

and hitting someone in the head at the bottom of the glorious arc. Kres ran inside. Maybe they wouldn't know it was him.