"Power to the women who are venom."
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A rivalry between a secret anti-government organization and its deviant counterpart; will seven boys and a girl lead justice to be served?
2034 has brought upon the presidency of Allison Diggory, a woman both l...
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It's later on in the day when you saunter out of the hotel room's door. Your Poseida is tucked safe in its holster underneath your clothes as always, your hair thrown into a messy updo. You've changed into your tech suit. In the van, any other weapons you may need should be there.
"Hey, Jimin," you say, striking up conversation as you move to the van. The redhead leans outside on the wall outside the door, arms folded as he smokes a cigarette. You gesture to it. "Yoongi give you that?"
He glares, but turns away and answers, "Yeah. I was kind of surprised he didn't say no."
"He didn't?"
Jimin shakes his head.
"Oh," you reply simply. "Hey . ." you whisper, leaning over to Jimin's as he stares at you curiously. The other boys are loading in the van, checking for supplies and rereading maps of where you'll need to go next for Heechul. " . . remember that whole ordeal when I almost shot my brother?"
His face drops. "What?"
"You know," you explain begrudgingly. "The training room."
Lighting up with short realization he nods, replying, "Oh yeah."
Your face is serious, almost stitched with anger. "What was that gun I shot before I held him at gunpoint? The one that blew up half the training room? Why didn't I see any more of it after that day?"
"Ah," Jimin says, brows in a tight furrow. "The Exima."
You nod. "What are they?"
"Mini grenade launchers, basically." The red-haired man grunts. His almond-shaped eyes squint from the harsh sunlight up ahead. It's unexpectedly non-cloudy for it being so early on in the year.
Eagerly, you go on, "Why didn't I see any more of them after what happened?"
Jimin's visage toughens. "Honestly, on the topic of guns, I could ask you something myself." He pushes himself up off the wall, slapping his hand onto the break and leaning once more. From the height difference, he has to look up at you. "It's about Jungkook."
"Yeah, the Poseida, yada-yada," you scowl. "I don't fucking get why it's such a big deal. Now answer my damn question, Jimin."
"Because you're dangerous." He snarls, standing up straight now. Whatever connection sparked between the two of you earlier this morning, it's not present now. "And psychotic. You enjoy risking your life. When I said you're just like him, I meant it."
'Taehyung,' you think grudgingly. Although, something about it doesn't really bother you like it used to. After he saw your scars, a part of you has sort of opened up to him. Resentfully, though it has happened.
"Don't say that," you scoff. "It's not true." Though, the idea of Taehyung hiding away explosive grenade guns because he's worried you may threaten your or somebody else's life is definitely an ego-booster.
