If he’d been at all himself, Jin would have blushed at Ann-Bo’s quick answer to his tease. As it was, he merely smirked, satisfied with the response. He wasn't sure he believed it, but it was nice to hear. At his brother’s correction however, Jin rolled his eyes. “Eojjaetteun,” he drawled lazily. Elf, gremlin— same thing.
It would seem he’d rattled the bar of their cage a little too hard though. Even as he was kicking himself for bringing up their situation and turning away with a dismissive call, Ahn-Bo was reacting. Jin should have known better than to prompt him like that. There was a reason they didn’t talk about these things. He didn’t want to hear what the other had to say about it. Wrenching his wrist away defensively, Jin stopped and turned squarely to face the other. The words that poured out of his mouth were like gasoline on an already sparking fuse.
“Me?!” Jin heard himself echo, albeit more aggressively than he might have had he been… sober and not under whatever influence this was. He was surprised to hear as much, though maybe he shouldn’t have been. Of course Ahn-Bo blamed him. It was only logical. He’d been the one to drag his poor friend into this whole mess in the first place. (Somewhere deep down, Jin’s guilt began to unfurl and agitate some of the recklessness still pounding in his chest.) There were so many things he wanted to address in that statement both angry, defensive things and guilty, self-pitying things. He did know, or at least he could imagine, how badly Ahn-Bo hated it. Just like he did. And the others too. But unlike all the rest, Ahn-Bo’s cage had been his responsibility— his fault.
“You don’t think I’ve tried?” came shooting out first, daggers straight at the heart of the matter. “If I could leave, I would have— a long time ago! But that monster has his claws wrapped around my neck to the point where I can’t even breath if I say the wrong thing in front of him.” Jin took an angry step towards his brother. “This pendant controls every. move. I make. Up close and from a distance. I can’t remove it and I’m bound to it, to him, body and soul. That was the condition the last time I tried, and failed, to escape!” Jin wrenched the stupid thing out from under his shirt and pulled on it to demonstrate. The moment it went taught the chain glowed faintly red and burnt at his skin. He released it quickly.
“If you’re so desperate to leave, then go! Don't let me stop you!” It wasn’t the nicest thing to say, and deep down Jin definitely didn’t mean it. But he wasn’t buying that Ahn-Bo was only here for him. Nobody was that self-sacrificing. Or stupid. If he felt a little conflicted at the term of endearment, Jin barreled through it angrily. “And stop calling me that!” he lashed out, guilt and hurt combining into a potent acid in his throat. It hurts too much.
(Even if he could go, they had no money and no means. It was a death wish any way they sliced it.)
It would seem he’d rattled the bar of their cage a little too hard though. Even as he was kicking himself for bringing up their situation and turning away with a dismissive call, Ahn-Bo was reacting. Jin should have known better than to prompt him like that. There was a reason they didn’t talk about these things. He didn’t want to hear what the other had to say about it. Wrenching his wrist away defensively, Jin stopped and turned squarely to face the other. The words that poured out of his mouth were like gasoline on an already sparking fuse.
“Me?!” Jin heard himself echo, albeit more aggressively than he might have had he been… sober and not under whatever influence this was. He was surprised to hear as much, though maybe he shouldn’t have been. Of course Ahn-Bo blamed him. It was only logical. He’d been the one to drag his poor friend into this whole mess in the first place. (Somewhere deep down, Jin’s guilt began to unfurl and agitate some of the recklessness still pounding in his chest.) There were so many things he wanted to address in that statement both angry, defensive things and guilty, self-pitying things. He did know, or at least he could imagine, how badly Ahn-Bo hated it. Just like he did. And the others too. But unlike all the rest, Ahn-Bo’s cage had been his responsibility— his fault.
“You don’t think I’ve tried?” came shooting out first, daggers straight at the heart of the matter. “If I could leave, I would have— a long time ago! But that monster has his claws wrapped around my neck to the point where I can’t even breath if I say the wrong thing in front of him.” Jin took an angry step towards his brother. “This pendant controls every. move. I make. Up close and from a distance. I can’t remove it and I’m bound to it, to him, body and soul. That was the condition the last time I tried, and failed, to escape!” Jin wrenched the stupid thing out from under his shirt and pulled on it to demonstrate. The moment it went taught the chain glowed faintly red and burnt at his skin. He released it quickly.
“If you’re so desperate to leave, then go! Don't let me stop you!” It wasn’t the nicest thing to say, and deep down Jin definitely didn’t mean it. But he wasn’t buying that Ahn-Bo was only here for him. Nobody was that self-sacrificing. Or stupid. If he felt a little conflicted at the term of endearment, Jin barreled through it angrily. “And stop calling me that!” he lashed out, guilt and hurt combining into a potent acid in his throat. It hurts too much.
(Even if he could go, they had no money and no means. It was a death wish any way they sliced it.)
![[Image: HjIYkam.png]](https://i.imgur.com/HjIYkam.png)
* 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.