[scene!] gtao
Mar. 30th, 2015 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xiongmaox It had been almost 5 weeks since the attack at their apartment and all had been quiet. Too quiet.
Immediately after the incident Zitao had simply sighed heavily, closed his eyes and tilted his head from side to side to crack the tension out of his neck, then crouched down to check the bodies for any clue about who they were and what they were doing coming after them like that. But all he managed to glean from the search was a crumpled half pack of cigarettes and a couple of bank notes -- why let it go to waste? This poor bastard sure as hell didn't need them anymore. After that, Zitao had stood back up and followed Jiyong, stepping over the bleeding bodies to do a quick sweep of the flat, collecting only what was most important (the bottle of whiskey he'd swigged earlier included) before they hopped into the car and got the hell out of there.
At first there was no direction. They just hopped between a few dodgey motels, pulling whatever limited strings they still had to 1) try to find out what the fuck was going on, and 2) get a new place to live. But it was dangerous to reach too far out to feel around right now, in case they alerted whoever was onto them. A repeat of Mongkok was not what they wanted. But while it was difficult to get to the bottom of the attack, luckily, one of those guys Zitao could count on one hand as people he trusted lived and "worked" not far away, just a couple of hours north-west in the city of Guangzhou. Wu Yifan managed to find them somewhere to hideout. Of course it was in the shittiest part of town, but they hardly expected a picket fence. Discretion was the top priority, and as long as no questions were asked they'd take it.
Soon things were going well. After the first week or so, the dust seemed to have settled. Nobody else had come after them -- Not even the police (who were honestly the least of their worries). And after the attack Zitao's priorities had been pretty much set straight; it had helped him get his shit together, mentally, making him cool off on the whole "relationship" thing or whatever the hell he and Jiyong had or didn't have going on. It certainly wasn't the only blood of Zitao's hands, but something about killing a man just had a way of serving up a cold hard slice of reality. And reality was not exactly where he'd been living ever since busting Jiyong out of that hospital. Reality was, he was entitled to jack shit, as the world had taught him so many times before that he was an idiot to have forgotten. And he was okay with that. He'd earned Jiyongs loyalty as a friend, as a partner in crime, almost as brother, but he was not owed loyalty as anything more. He knew that, and for now, at least, he could only be content with Jiyongs comings and goings. He had to be.
It should have been obvious that these few weeks had to just be peace before the storm. Still, Zitao couldn't help how after a while those stupid hopeful thoughts crept in, that maybe this would work out. Maybe it would last. He liked it here; He had Jiyong, in a way, and this city as a whole was pretty cool, and now he had one of his most trusted friends nearby too. Yifan was understandably cautious about getting mixed up in their shit, not really approving of Jiyong, because "he's gonna get you killed, Tao" but nonetheless, he was on their side, and he did meet up with his old friend around once a week, passing on odd jobs and sharing any new info or rumours... and failing to convince the younger man that the best thing for him was to lose the korean. (Right as Yifan may be, it wasn't going to happen.) All they knew about the attack so far was that the circle those two boneheads had run with had not been affliated with Zitao's group in either Korea or in China. Big help that was.
It was after one such meeting, almost a month after moving to Guangzhou, that Zitao walked right into an ambush.
It was getting late and he was ready to fall into bed as soon as he got back to the apartment. As he twisted his key in the lock, he had no idea the sound of his arrival was triggering a rise of adrenaline in 3 strangers on the other side, causing a finger to stroke a trigger. But as soon as he opened the door there was a gun in his face and he was violently yanked inside and shoved onto the floor, hearing the door slam as his arm was painfully twisted behind his back. He winced, flabbergasted, asking who the fuck they were as he was checked for weapons. They ignored him and spoke Korean to each other when they found his knife, and fuck, that's when he knew this must be bad... Where was Jiyong??
"Who the fuck are you?" he repeated, this time in their language. Not that it helped, because the only answer he got from the man with the gun was "People you'll wish you had never fucked with," before a non-verbal command was given for the other two to start kicking the shit out of him. He was defenseless, just trying to protect his head as kicks and punches rained down on him, trying his best not to let out any pained groans that would satisfy them. This beating obviously wasn't all their grand plan entailed, however, because it was only a couple of minutes before they stopped and tied him up with duct tape, plastering it over his mouth too. Then they quickly smuggled him down to the parking lot, and as they got nearer the car he saw someone already sitting at the drivers seat. .........Jiyong?! He impulsively struggled to break free, trying to shout something that nobody could make out thanks to the tape over his mouth.
"Uh-huh. Noooow~ you get it, dontcha?" The ringleader laughed. "Thought you could use him to fuck with us, huh? I don't know what bullshit you told him when he got outta that hospital, but he's still one of ours. And the boss isn't comfortable with whatever shit this is you're trying to pull. So get ready to do some fucking explaining." Then he opened up the trunk of the car and the other two guys shoved Zitao inside.
What the fuck?? They think this is part of some kind of plan?! The trunk slammed shut and Zitao really needed to find a way out of this, because these guys wanted answers and he didn't have any. But he couldn't think clearly. The trunk was pitch black, claustrophobic, and stank of rubber and grease with an unsettling hint of bleach. There was a moment of silence before the engine started, in which Zitao felt a panic attack coming on, his heart thumping so hard he could feel it pulsing hotly in his ears, and it was something about being locked in this trunk, without even thinking as far ahead as what was going to happen when they arrived wherever it was they were going. He closed his eyes tightly and concentrated hard on trying to breath properly through his nostrils. The noise of his nose breathing was loud and too frantic, and he was finding it difficult to calm his tense nerves without the ability to exhale through his mouth. Just calm down, Zitao. Calm down, calmdown, calmdowncalmdown. They won't just leave you in here. It's ok, just calm the fuck down... Jiyong knew he was claustrophobic, at least; he'd get him out of here.
Immediately after the incident Zitao had simply sighed heavily, closed his eyes and tilted his head from side to side to crack the tension out of his neck, then crouched down to check the bodies for any clue about who they were and what they were doing coming after them like that. But all he managed to glean from the search was a crumpled half pack of cigarettes and a couple of bank notes -- why let it go to waste? This poor bastard sure as hell didn't need them anymore. After that, Zitao had stood back up and followed Jiyong, stepping over the bleeding bodies to do a quick sweep of the flat, collecting only what was most important (the bottle of whiskey he'd swigged earlier included) before they hopped into the car and got the hell out of there.
At first there was no direction. They just hopped between a few dodgey motels, pulling whatever limited strings they still had to 1) try to find out what the fuck was going on, and 2) get a new place to live. But it was dangerous to reach too far out to feel around right now, in case they alerted whoever was onto them. A repeat of Mongkok was not what they wanted. But while it was difficult to get to the bottom of the attack, luckily, one of those guys Zitao could count on one hand as people he trusted lived and "worked" not far away, just a couple of hours north-west in the city of Guangzhou. Wu Yifan managed to find them somewhere to hideout. Of course it was in the shittiest part of town, but they hardly expected a picket fence. Discretion was the top priority, and as long as no questions were asked they'd take it.
Soon things were going well. After the first week or so, the dust seemed to have settled. Nobody else had come after them -- Not even the police (who were honestly the least of their worries). And after the attack Zitao's priorities had been pretty much set straight; it had helped him get his shit together, mentally, making him cool off on the whole "relationship" thing or whatever the hell he and Jiyong had or didn't have going on. It certainly wasn't the only blood of Zitao's hands, but something about killing a man just had a way of serving up a cold hard slice of reality. And reality was not exactly where he'd been living ever since busting Jiyong out of that hospital. Reality was, he was entitled to jack shit, as the world had taught him so many times before that he was an idiot to have forgotten. And he was okay with that. He'd earned Jiyongs loyalty as a friend, as a partner in crime, almost as brother, but he was not owed loyalty as anything more. He knew that, and for now, at least, he could only be content with Jiyongs comings and goings. He had to be.
It should have been obvious that these few weeks had to just be peace before the storm. Still, Zitao couldn't help how after a while those stupid hopeful thoughts crept in, that maybe this would work out. Maybe it would last. He liked it here; He had Jiyong, in a way, and this city as a whole was pretty cool, and now he had one of his most trusted friends nearby too. Yifan was understandably cautious about getting mixed up in their shit, not really approving of Jiyong, because "he's gonna get you killed, Tao" but nonetheless, he was on their side, and he did meet up with his old friend around once a week, passing on odd jobs and sharing any new info or rumours... and failing to convince the younger man that the best thing for him was to lose the korean. (Right as Yifan may be, it wasn't going to happen.) All they knew about the attack so far was that the circle those two boneheads had run with had not been affliated with Zitao's group in either Korea or in China. Big help that was.
It was after one such meeting, almost a month after moving to Guangzhou, that Zitao walked right into an ambush.
It was getting late and he was ready to fall into bed as soon as he got back to the apartment. As he twisted his key in the lock, he had no idea the sound of his arrival was triggering a rise of adrenaline in 3 strangers on the other side, causing a finger to stroke a trigger. But as soon as he opened the door there was a gun in his face and he was violently yanked inside and shoved onto the floor, hearing the door slam as his arm was painfully twisted behind his back. He winced, flabbergasted, asking who the fuck they were as he was checked for weapons. They ignored him and spoke Korean to each other when they found his knife, and fuck, that's when he knew this must be bad... Where was Jiyong??
"Who the fuck are you?" he repeated, this time in their language. Not that it helped, because the only answer he got from the man with the gun was "People you'll wish you had never fucked with," before a non-verbal command was given for the other two to start kicking the shit out of him. He was defenseless, just trying to protect his head as kicks and punches rained down on him, trying his best not to let out any pained groans that would satisfy them. This beating obviously wasn't all their grand plan entailed, however, because it was only a couple of minutes before they stopped and tied him up with duct tape, plastering it over his mouth too. Then they quickly smuggled him down to the parking lot, and as they got nearer the car he saw someone already sitting at the drivers seat. .........Jiyong?! He impulsively struggled to break free, trying to shout something that nobody could make out thanks to the tape over his mouth.
"Uh-huh. Noooow~ you get it, dontcha?" The ringleader laughed. "Thought you could use him to fuck with us, huh? I don't know what bullshit you told him when he got outta that hospital, but he's still one of ours. And the boss isn't comfortable with whatever shit this is you're trying to pull. So get ready to do some fucking explaining." Then he opened up the trunk of the car and the other two guys shoved Zitao inside.
What the fuck?? They think this is part of some kind of plan?! The trunk slammed shut and Zitao really needed to find a way out of this, because these guys wanted answers and he didn't have any. But he couldn't think clearly. The trunk was pitch black, claustrophobic, and stank of rubber and grease with an unsettling hint of bleach. There was a moment of silence before the engine started, in which Zitao felt a panic attack coming on, his heart thumping so hard he could feel it pulsing hotly in his ears, and it was something about being locked in this trunk, without even thinking as far ahead as what was going to happen when they arrived wherever it was they were going. He closed his eyes tightly and concentrated hard on trying to breath properly through his nostrils. The noise of his nose breathing was loud and too frantic, and he was finding it difficult to calm his tense nerves without the ability to exhale through his mouth. Just calm down, Zitao. Calm down, calmdown, calmdowncalmdown. They won't just leave you in here. It's ok, just calm the fuck down... Jiyong knew he was claustrophobic, at least; he'd get him out of here.