August 15, 1895 — an event at a townhouse in London

Jin had known. He had prepared for this exact moment— had even rehearsed how he’d turn away and just walk the other direction when he saw the inevitable. He didn’t like feeling this way. And he had absolutely no right, not then, and certainly not now, but the feeling lingered anyway. It was cold and green and resentful and it wedged itself deep in-between his vertebrae.

Shoving his nose into a glass of recently collected…something, Jin made a conscious effort to peel his eyes away from any of his brothers. They weren’t his to protect or fuss over; not really. Not here. Unless there was something he might logically do to swoop in and help with, he had no business lingering over their interactions. Especially hyuns. Ahn-Bo was the best equipped out of all of them to manage himself. He came from this for spirits sake— not that it was a fair accusation, Jin thought guiltily. But annoyance made him spiteful and so he turned one foot and then the other, sucking in a short breath and deciding he had better get on with it before Abeoji noticed.

This secondary introduction to English society was a little less stressful than the first. For one thing, this event wasn’t centered around them with every manner of introduction coming left and right. And while this new society certainly seemed curious, Jin was able to turn his facade on and off briefly here and there— like little flickers of personality. It had been overwhelming that first evening to remain constantly on (on display, on his game, on the right foot). But now things seemed settled. Now he could could take proper stake of the players in the room and evaluate who seemed worthy of his attention and who might just be chatter, tolerated in the background.

A pretty debutant with blonde hair and a soft blue gown cast a smile in his direction and Jin felt himself answer it, slipping on his mask. She made some off-handed comment about the music and asked if he danced; he regretfully informed her had hadn’t yet mastered the English ways of moving but that he’d be willing to try if she might tolerate him. She gave a hearty laugh and assured him she might and so he signed his name on her dance card. The debutant smiled again and Jin returned it. He didn’t know her name yet but he catalogued the way she seemed to move with purpose and poise. Just as he was about to ask, someone else captured the lady’s attention and so he excused himself, promising to return for their dance. (That was how this worked, right?)

Exhausted even from that small interaction, (and maybe his own irritation), Jin made to refresh his drink. He hovered over the refreshments trying to decipher which might be the least toxic. He couldn’t risk any kind of real inebriation with this weight around his neck but something light, to help take the edge off, couldn't hurt. Right?

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Ahn-Bo Jeong & muse song

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* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.

Ahn-Bo felt as if he was getting the jist of their dances. Sure, he made a misstep here and there, but all was forgotten as soon as he flashed a self-deprecating grin and a joke in his accented english. The debutantes loved him. And his brothers–how could they not? They were new and novel and fresh blood for the marriage mart. It was better to take advantage of it now while they had the momentum of curiosity to propel them forward. If time went on too long before any of them found themselves successfully enmeshed, it would be like swimming upstream.

Here and there he'd pass a Jeong. Caught sight of Noona at the edge of the room once or twice. So long as none were in fist fights, he hardly paid any attention to them. Being able to socialize like this had been something he hadn't known he'd been missing from his old life. Granted, the cultures were rather different... but the interactions were nearly identical, if only different flavors.

Ahn-Bo had just finished a dance with a pretty brunette, who had laughed at all of his jokes–even the ones that weren't very clever. He suspected she'd felt the hard muscles beneath his coatsleeves and realized just how much more attractive he was compared to the dull-as-dishwater men she was used to. He couldn't fault her for that. He was much better looking.

He'd already signed up for another's dance card, but she managed to keep him near for just a few moments more via a suggestion that he fetch them refreshments. There was little else he could do but to oblige her, so to the refreshments table he went. It was a pleasant surpise to see Jin hovering nearby. Ahn-Bo grinned as he approached, cheeks flushed and body warm from the physical activity. "I suspect half this ballroom is in love with us," He said teasingly in Korean.

  

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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.

Set by the amazing Fox! • plot with me

Jin was debating between something that looked like nongju but definitely wasn’t (deceptive and risky) and something that looked like wine but smelled a little too fruity to his sensitive nostrils (sickly sweet and looking like a headache). He was stone cold sober at the moment so the latter seemed like a bad idea and the former… well. He’d give it a shot. (Spirits above what he wouldn’t give for a nice glass of rich red wine right about now. Or five.)

He picked up the whiskey glass and gave the liquid a little swirl. Up close it smelled a bit more acidic than he had expected. He’d just raised it to his lips for the first sip when Ahn-Bo’s familiar voice floated into his eardrums and Jin’s sip turned into a struggle. What could have been a dainty little taste turned into a cough as the liquid burnt its way down the wrong pipe. He spluttered for a minute, eyes watering. When he finally turned towards his brother, Jin’s face was twisted into a wry expression. He hadn’t expected such an appearance. (Especially not when he was here, at this table, to forget about— it.)

“I’m sure that’s true,” he agreed quietly, also in Korean. He cleared his throat again, glad for the cover of his recovery. The sentiment behind his response was less than enthused. Another moment passed and he felt his windpipe clear. “But then again, I’m not exactly surprised,” he added, that wry expression from earlier twisting into something of a tease. He would never admit it aloud, and certainly not to Ahn-Bo’s face, but his brother knew how well Jin thought of him. He had to, right? And there would be no other way through this line of questioning but through, so he figured he'd just play along. If that sickly green aura still circled him like a fog, well, Jin could only be glad Ahn-Bo was clueless enough not to see it.

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Ahn-Bo Jeong & muse song

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   Ahn-Bo Jeong

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* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.

Jin's response was lackluster, at best. He'd been expecting some amusement—the sputtering of the drink had gotten his expectations too high, it seemed. Ahn-Bo knew this wasn't Jin's scene. It never had been, and never would be. But this was the card they had been dealt. There was nothing to do for it other than find enjoyment where they could. But Jin sounded miserable.

He felt several pairs of eyes on them. Some from curiosity, but one specific pair was narrowed in their direction, which was what he wanted to avoid. "Chin up, Jin-ah." He returned. Had they been alone, he would have nudged his chin up to look him in the eye. But he could not. His hand twitched by his side instead. "It is good to get out of the house, isn't it? And–" He subtly tipped his head in the direction of their Collector, "–his attention is split in so many directions that he can't linger on a single one of us for very long." Safe. This was the closest they would experience to being safe.

  

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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.

Set by the amazing Fox! • plot with me

Jin could feel the shift in Ahn-Bo’s return response and realized almost immediately that he’d failed in fooling his brother about anything. He shouldn’t have tried, honestly. There wasn’t anyone on this planet who could read him better; even if Hyung wasn’t always quite sure of what was going through Jin’s head— he always knew when there was something. Forcing a smile onto his face for appearances sake, Jin tucked his nose into his drink and took another sip. A real one.

(Aish… this was quite strong. He would have to limit himself to only one. Jin knew his tolerance for alcohol, or lack thereof, and it was certainly nothing to brag about.)

“It’s good to get out of the house,” he reiterated, assuring Ahn-Bo that he agreed. Jin was not so stupid as to misunderstand what was being hinted at. The Collector’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, a reminder of the gift he’d been given in this freedom. “And I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” The words don’t worry about me lingered on his tongue but he didn’t utter them. He knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to keep suspicion at bay if he dared. Instead, Jin nodded in the direction of the refreshment table.

“This one is… strong, if you’re looking for something somewhat palatable,” he suggested instead.

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Ahn-Bo Jeong & muse song

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* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.

Ahn-Bo ignored the relief he felt that Jin had caught his meaning. He hadn't been worried. He didn't get worried. Although he noticed how empty the glass in Jin's hand was already. Jin was good at many things, but holding his liquor was not one of them. Ahn-Bo lifted a glass from the table of the same liquid and took a sniff. It nearly burned his nose and the taste wasn't anything like the makgeolli* he was used to. But if Jin was drinking it, then he could too.

He took a long sip, locking eyes with Jin in a playful challenge as he did so. It was all he could do to not cough after he swallowed. That was... interesting, to say the least. He was surprised Jin was drinking it. Though it may be good for him... he would loosen up, maybe even begin to enjoy himself. Ahn-Bo grinned and cleared his throat forcefully in an attempt to dislodge whatever it was that made his body want to cough. "Delicious," He deadpanned as he moved around Jin to the other end of the table, near the punch bowl, "I'm fetching something for Miss..." He faltered. What had her name been? All of them felt strange, and many of the women were so similar that they had begun to blend into each other.

*A thick and milky rice wine popular with commoners and farmers, made from fermented steamed rice, water, and nuruk (a traditional fermentation starter)

  

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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.

Set by the amazing Fox! • plot with me

Amusement - real amusement - flit across Jin’s face as Ahn-Bo took a sniff of the same type of drink he held and made a face. Watching his brother take a sip and choke it down was enough to wash away any of Jin’s momentary angst for favor of the distraction. He wasn’t a great drinker, and they both knew that, so watching Ahn-Bo try and compete with him was a little bit ridiculous. Jin accepted the challenge and took another slug of his own, grimacing as he did so. (Ok, so not the most polite moment, but he was no coward to back down from a challenge!)

The glass was empty by the time he looked back up and Jin smirked in his brother’s direction. He could feel… something fuzzing the edges around his consciousness; it was enough to prickle at the green-eyed monster in his chest when Ahn-Bo mentioned his recent companion but it didn’t ache the way it had before. Instead, Jin laughed softly. “I can’t ever remember any of their names,” he admitted. Except Prewett. Abeoji had ensured he remembered that one.

“I dare you to find a single one more interesting to you than I am by the end of the night,” he hedged then, a decided tease fraying at the edges of reality. Jin could feel the influence of the drink making him bold so he held his ground and made no movement to step towards or away from Ahn-Bo. Too many eyes kept him from giving the look he wanted too. He just cocked an eyebrow and let the warmth of the liquor simmer in his belly.

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Ahn-Bo Jeong & muse song

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   Ahn-Bo Jeong

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* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.

At least he wasn't the only one. Even Jin, who was the best of them, couldn't remember any names either. Ahn-Bo had set down his glass in order to free his hands to pour punch for Miss Whatshername, but he paused mid-reach as he heard Jin's challenge. Interesting... that was very un-Jin-like of him. He'd thought they were just going to dance around the topic (pun intended) and never speak of it, ever. He looked over his shoulder at his brother, doing his best to mask his surprise.

Ah. Jin had emptied his glass. That had to be it. His cheeks had already begun to turn pink. He smirked as he replied, "I could search for the next century and still not find a single one." Then, he turned his head back toward the table and poured the punch into a delicate glass. Part of him was afraid he might break it, so dainty it was in his too big hand. He didn't want to leave Jin's side, but he couldn't dawdle here forever. They both had parts to play. So rather than dwell on whatever he or Jin might be feeling, he took his usual path and instead suggested a distraction, "I dare you to fill more spaces on dance cards than me by the end of the night."

  

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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.

Set by the amazing Fox! • plot with me

The look on Ahn-Bo’s face as he peered over the table was difficult for Jin to decipher. He tried, but in the end it was the subsequent statement that settled a possessive need in the half-vampire's belly enough for him to smirk back in triumph. Good, he felt like retorting, but the pure, unadulterated satisfaction that was bound to lace that one word was too much for him to restrain. Jin replaced his now empty mug with another one and decided this was to be the last. He was getting much too indulgent.

At the other’s parried dare, he huffed a small laugh and shook his head. “I concede that loss to you now,” he admitted without concern. There was no part of Jin that imagined he could outmatch his brother in desirability and neither did he have any intention of dancing more than he was forced. He was still feeling a little left-footed with the tempo. “But I will see how many names I can collect in conversation before the end.” And descriptions, he added idly to himself. It was in both their best interests to start paying attention to who was who. “We meet at the end of the night to compare,” he added. “You decide the winning prize.”

Jin smirked again. Even with a little bit of alcohol he was sure he could apply himself to memorize a few social positions. He may not have been the athlete but he'd always been rather clever in school.

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Ahn-Bo Jeong & muse song

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* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.

He'd gone from a sure win to a sure loss in a blink of an eye. Ahn-Bo had already revealed his weakness, but he wasn't about to let that stop him from trying. He could never turn down a competition—even one he knew he couldn't possibly win. The fact that Jin had given him the authority to decide the prize made it that much more impossible to turn down.

It was a pity the men didn't also have dance cards. That would have made it so much easier. Then he'd at least have had the names written down, and it would just be a matter of matching names to faces. Not that he was confident in being able to do that very well, either. He didn't think 'the one with the blue dress' or 'that one that always wrinkles her nose' would count. But still, he got to decide the prize no matter who won. Seemed like he might have been a winner after all.

Ahn-Bo returned Jin's smirk with one of his own, "Deal." Maybe he could find somewhere to write down the ladies names... or he could make them up. Would Jin really even know which names were real and which weren't? Before Jin caught on and added any additional guidelines, he scooped up his glass and the one he'd poured for his last dance partner and took a step away with a laugh, "I'd wish you good luck, but we both know you aren't the one who needs it."

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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.

Set by the amazing Fox! • plot with me

Jin had hoped that by letting Ahn-Bo decide the prize he might even the playing field a little bit by amplifying his brother’s desire to trump him at all costs. They did need to very seriously start considering names and positions, and even slightly lightheaded as he was— Jin was ever the responsibly minded. He knew hyung would try but he needed them to both be successful. That way he could be sure there would be no excuse for punishment.

As the other meandered off, Jin rolled his eyes playfully and tucked his nose back into his drink. He finished it and then scanned the room. Alright. The challenge was on.

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Ahn-Bo Jeong & muse song

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The following 1 user Likes Seojin Jeong's post:1 user Likes Seojin Jeong's post
   Ahn-Bo Jeong

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* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.