Post by Nyeo Son on Feb 4, 2018 19:59:54 GMT
More korean honorifics (y’all are welcome for this great education)
Abeoji = Father
Adeul = Son
He’s up on the dance floor when he hears it, his phone is always on silent, but there is one exception programmed into it, one number that overrides that command. Over the sound of the techno beats he can scarcely hear the soft violin and piano of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Violin Sonata in G major, but even the faint sound is enough for him to go from loose hips to a straight back.
It was his father who had chosen the song, Nyeo had never been a fan of classical music, subconscious associations, he assumed. But his father had insisted, had said something about anything that was connected to him needed to be dignified, to his credit he had almost masked his sneer well enough that Nyeo didn’t pick up on the insult, almost…
He made his way away from the mass of swaying bodies, walking towards the exit of the bar, his movements were rigid, nothing like the swaying motions that were his signature, his crew looked up, started to follow, then turned swiftly around once they recognized the tune, only namjoon stayed the course, but even he kept a respectful distance, and didn’t follow once Nyeo left the not-so-fine establishment, opting to stay inside the doors, waiting.
“Abeoji, father, how are you?”
“Not as good as I could be if you were still here with us here in korea, Adeul; Your absence is putting a strain on the family.”
This was nothing new; he’d said the same thing before Nyeo left, but that was Son Hwan, never afraid to repeat his “suggestions” if people didn’t follow them.
“Anything in particular that’s troubling you, father?”
“Your cousin, Seojun, he’s trying to increase his standing in the Mob, specifically he’s trying to raise his standing above yours.”
Nyeo frowned, he had honestly not expected anything from Seojun. He never thought about the man, except when talking with him, and honestly barely even them. “So what? His father is the youngest, and he’s a year younger than me, too; he has no claim to power whatsoever!”
“Well your age isn’t very relevant when he’s telling everyone that you abandoned the family to go fail in America.”
“I am not failing! Have you seen the recruitment numbers here in America? Every time I show my face I impress young people, they’re signing up here, the H.S.S Mob will soon be as famous here in the the US as they are back home.”
“And you’re losing matches as often as you’re winning, you’re ruining your image with the family!”
“Is this an order to quit, Abeoji?”
The line is quiet for a long time, until the elder lets out a heavy sigh. “No, it’s not, You’re an adult, and you’ll soon be taking over the mob, I need to let you sink or swim on your own. But Seojun has to be taken care of, by you.”
“I understand, father; I’ll leave notice to the company and the local mob leader that I’ll be leaving.”
“Very good, son; I’ll get things ready, how do you want it done?”
Nyeo cracks a smirk. “Call a family meeting, I’ll teach Seojun respect first, then I’ll root out his tendrils of corruption, with fire if necessary.” Family matters weren’t all bad.
The crew had quickly come out to join him once Namjoon motioned to them that the call was over. The group starts walking home in silence, Jungkook reaching over his vape pen to the leader, who smiles warmly back at him before putting it to his lips and taking a hit, blowing the scented smoke out in a thin stream, glowing in the light from the streetlamps.
“This monday will be my last match for a while, we’re going back to Suwon.”
Some of the group lose their rhythm for a moment, the comment made surprisingly calmly.
“I suppose we better make sure you go out on a high note, then. Who are you facing?” As always, Namjoon responds with his cold, analytical mind.”
“The…” Nyeo sighs “The Razzledazzlers of Fantazzmagazzles…”
The night is quiet, everyone in the group slowly stopping to stare at Nyeo’s expressionless face.
The spell is broken when the facade finally breaks, Nyeo almost doubling over in a fit of giggles that would surely help Seojin’s case should a video of it be leaked. The rest of the young men leaning on each other, laughing.
“I-is that seriously their name?” Jimin can’t help but ask, his voice barely holding steady, tears glinting in his eyes.
“It is, it really is!” The laughter continues for a solid minute more, before they start to collect themselves.
“So… eherm, are they as little of a threat as they sound like?” Namjoon, trying to reaffix his mask of professionalism.
“I’m not sure I can afford to assume that, they beat the former Tag champions at Blood Moon Rising, and they’re confident working together. While I’m forced to team up with Dark Specter.”
“Who we have to assume isn’t particularly fond of you after confrontations both in and outside the ring…”
“Correct, luckily I think he’s not a bad teammate for this match, as long as we don’t bicker, which I doubt that he will given the code of honor he seems to have. He’ll be a good opponent to match the opponents in speed and agility, forcing them to try to keep up with his moves, which should tire them out. Meanwhile i’ll keep things at a slower pace waiting for the perfect moment to catch them… and serve their pain up on a platter to the audience.”
“I love it when you talk violence, hyung~” Jimin is far too good at batting his eyelashes at people, and far too good at sounding sultry; baggy pants were a good choice, tonight.
Jungkook just laughs at his friends antics. “Don’t be gay, Jimin, I couldn’t bear to see you kicked out.”
The words sting, Nyeo reaching out for the vape and taking another hit to hide any reaction his face might show. That was the reason why family matters were mostly bad, the bigotry was never far off.
He takes an unexpected left into an alley, tossing the vape to Jimin as the group follows. “Kookie, V; you two are the closest match to my opponents, come at me.” His voice is flat, and the rest of the group quickly presses themselves against the wall as his underlings quickly launch their assault.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t go harder against Jungkook than he needed to, the early shots to the kidneys were hardly conducive to the kind of training he needed, but the feelings that made him do it soon flowed away, along with the ones that made him regret doing it, the hurt and the anger consumed by adrenaline and the thrill of the battle; this was why he was Son Nyeo, and why he could never be anyone else, dominance was his natural state. No obstacle, opponent or ally, could ever change that.
Abeoji = Father
Adeul = Son
He’s up on the dance floor when he hears it, his phone is always on silent, but there is one exception programmed into it, one number that overrides that command. Over the sound of the techno beats he can scarcely hear the soft violin and piano of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Violin Sonata in G major, but even the faint sound is enough for him to go from loose hips to a straight back.
It was his father who had chosen the song, Nyeo had never been a fan of classical music, subconscious associations, he assumed. But his father had insisted, had said something about anything that was connected to him needed to be dignified, to his credit he had almost masked his sneer well enough that Nyeo didn’t pick up on the insult, almost…
He made his way away from the mass of swaying bodies, walking towards the exit of the bar, his movements were rigid, nothing like the swaying motions that were his signature, his crew looked up, started to follow, then turned swiftly around once they recognized the tune, only namjoon stayed the course, but even he kept a respectful distance, and didn’t follow once Nyeo left the not-so-fine establishment, opting to stay inside the doors, waiting.
“Abeoji, father, how are you?”
“Not as good as I could be if you were still here with us here in korea, Adeul; Your absence is putting a strain on the family.”
This was nothing new; he’d said the same thing before Nyeo left, but that was Son Hwan, never afraid to repeat his “suggestions” if people didn’t follow them.
“Anything in particular that’s troubling you, father?”
“Your cousin, Seojun, he’s trying to increase his standing in the Mob, specifically he’s trying to raise his standing above yours.”
Nyeo frowned, he had honestly not expected anything from Seojun. He never thought about the man, except when talking with him, and honestly barely even them. “So what? His father is the youngest, and he’s a year younger than me, too; he has no claim to power whatsoever!”
“Well your age isn’t very relevant when he’s telling everyone that you abandoned the family to go fail in America.”
“I am not failing! Have you seen the recruitment numbers here in America? Every time I show my face I impress young people, they’re signing up here, the H.S.S Mob will soon be as famous here in the the US as they are back home.”
“And you’re losing matches as often as you’re winning, you’re ruining your image with the family!”
“Is this an order to quit, Abeoji?”
The line is quiet for a long time, until the elder lets out a heavy sigh. “No, it’s not, You’re an adult, and you’ll soon be taking over the mob, I need to let you sink or swim on your own. But Seojun has to be taken care of, by you.”
“I understand, father; I’ll leave notice to the company and the local mob leader that I’ll be leaving.”
“Very good, son; I’ll get things ready, how do you want it done?”
Nyeo cracks a smirk. “Call a family meeting, I’ll teach Seojun respect first, then I’ll root out his tendrils of corruption, with fire if necessary.” Family matters weren’t all bad.
The crew had quickly come out to join him once Namjoon motioned to them that the call was over. The group starts walking home in silence, Jungkook reaching over his vape pen to the leader, who smiles warmly back at him before putting it to his lips and taking a hit, blowing the scented smoke out in a thin stream, glowing in the light from the streetlamps.
“This monday will be my last match for a while, we’re going back to Suwon.”
Some of the group lose their rhythm for a moment, the comment made surprisingly calmly.
“I suppose we better make sure you go out on a high note, then. Who are you facing?” As always, Namjoon responds with his cold, analytical mind.”
“The…” Nyeo sighs “The Razzledazzlers of Fantazzmagazzles…”
The night is quiet, everyone in the group slowly stopping to stare at Nyeo’s expressionless face.
The spell is broken when the facade finally breaks, Nyeo almost doubling over in a fit of giggles that would surely help Seojin’s case should a video of it be leaked. The rest of the young men leaning on each other, laughing.
“I-is that seriously their name?” Jimin can’t help but ask, his voice barely holding steady, tears glinting in his eyes.
“It is, it really is!” The laughter continues for a solid minute more, before they start to collect themselves.
“So… eherm, are they as little of a threat as they sound like?” Namjoon, trying to reaffix his mask of professionalism.
“I’m not sure I can afford to assume that, they beat the former Tag champions at Blood Moon Rising, and they’re confident working together. While I’m forced to team up with Dark Specter.”
“Who we have to assume isn’t particularly fond of you after confrontations both in and outside the ring…”
“Correct, luckily I think he’s not a bad teammate for this match, as long as we don’t bicker, which I doubt that he will given the code of honor he seems to have. He’ll be a good opponent to match the opponents in speed and agility, forcing them to try to keep up with his moves, which should tire them out. Meanwhile i’ll keep things at a slower pace waiting for the perfect moment to catch them… and serve their pain up on a platter to the audience.”
“I love it when you talk violence, hyung~” Jimin is far too good at batting his eyelashes at people, and far too good at sounding sultry; baggy pants were a good choice, tonight.
Jungkook just laughs at his friends antics. “Don’t be gay, Jimin, I couldn’t bear to see you kicked out.”
The words sting, Nyeo reaching out for the vape and taking another hit to hide any reaction his face might show. That was the reason why family matters were mostly bad, the bigotry was never far off.
He takes an unexpected left into an alley, tossing the vape to Jimin as the group follows. “Kookie, V; you two are the closest match to my opponents, come at me.” His voice is flat, and the rest of the group quickly presses themselves against the wall as his underlings quickly launch their assault.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t go harder against Jungkook than he needed to, the early shots to the kidneys were hardly conducive to the kind of training he needed, but the feelings that made him do it soon flowed away, along with the ones that made him regret doing it, the hurt and the anger consumed by adrenaline and the thrill of the battle; this was why he was Son Nyeo, and why he could never be anyone else, dominance was his natural state. No obstacle, opponent or ally, could ever change that.