Realistic or Modern 𝔅𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔦𝔠

[a z u l a]

mood: intrigued

paek dae-hyun

There were certain parts of the criminal world that Dae-hyun enjoyed, and others that he only suffered through because of necessity. Dae had not yet decided which area Bleeding Hearts fell into yet. When he had first received the invitation, a bleeding heart flower inside of a matte black envelope tied together with a red ribbon, he had brushed it off and decided to decline the invitation to focus on the empire he had just inherited.

However, his father had other ideas. Becoming the leader of the Paek crime family in such a tumultuous time (and with a troublesome brother that made the entire family look bad), Dae-hyun needed to cement his position as leader with a strong show of family unity. And what better way to bring the family together than a wedding?

That was how Dae-hyun had ended up locked inside a small concrete room, blood spurting from his broken nose as he tightly pulled his neck tie around his opponent's throat to force him into submission. The man to slip into unconsciousness, thrashing as much as he could on the way down to the cement floor. With his competition defeated, Dae-hyun finally relaxed his grip on the black piece of fabric around the other man's neck.

"Congratulations, Dae-hyun. You have won your match and proved yourself worthy of entering Bleeding Hearts." A voice crackled over the speaker, a loud buzzing alerting him to the doors opening. Wiping the blood off of his nose with the back of his bruised hand, the gang leader walked out of the secure holding room and into a pristine hallway.

As he stepped onto the sleek mahogany floors, a woman covered in blood exited the room opposite him. The two stood staring one another down, assessing the other for any indication of aggression. Upon finding none, Dae-hyun extended his hand to the woman, offering a charming smile despite the pain throbbing through the crooked tilt of his nose.

"I'm Dae-hyun, it's a pleasure to meet you." The woman raised an eyebrow but took his hand, two different shades of warm blood mixing as they did.

"Ziva. The pleasure is mine." She spoke, a coy smile playing on her lips as she turned away from him to look down the hallway.

"Shall we go see what all this fuss is about?" Dae-hyun asked, offering his arm to her as they began to stroll towards the exit.

"Let's."

At the end of the hallway they pushed the deep red curtain aside, ascending a winding staircase until they reached a softly lit ballroom, an extravagant set up of food, liquor, and entertainment lined the grand area where a few people were mingling about.

"Welcome to Bleeding Hearts." A woman with thick, salt-and-pepper hair greeted from the stage at the front of the room. "I'll be your host on your journey to find connections, and pleasure, this week. You twenty-five participants are the best of the best in our line of work, as proven by your elimination of the other twenty-five invitees you fought individually."

Every pair of eyes scanned the room, appraising their competition and potential partners. Dae-hyun had thought he might look disheveled with his undone tie and bloody nose, but everyone in the room was in a similar state of disarray after their own battles. His companion, Ziva, was by far the messiest, her hair had tumbled from what he assumed was meant to be a sleek bun, her red dress was ripped in jagged edges, and she was covered in enough blood that it was safe to assume she had done more than knock her opponent unconscious to win.

"To get to know each other better, we have arranged a quick round of speed dating. Please find the place card with your name on it, we will begin as soon as everyone is seated."

• .
• .
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• outfit
• location

  
  

  the ballroom
• tags

  open
  

coded by reveriee.

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

mood: galled

the hawk's eye

"God fucking damn," Rain grunted in frustration. They had known that entering Bleeding Hearts would be difficult, as was practically anything to do with their line of work, but they had perhaps thought they maybe they could be a bit more civilized. As it were, they had entered a bland looking room, facing another figure, and it had dawned on both of them (though they would like to say it dawned on them a moment earlier) that they may have to kill the other to prove their worthiness. The purposefully blank walls and floors had suggested the necessity for physical, hand-to-hand grappling prowess to the other, and they had been half offended that someone like their opponent had been let in so far if they hadn't stocked up on weapons on their own person. Rain had simply taken out one of their compact, jade daggers, and side-stepped their foolishly charging opponent with ease, attempting to avoid any blood splatter on their Balmain, but failing.

They dabbed at the darkening red dots on the formerly-pristine white fabric while they walked away from the already cooling corpse of a laughable opponent. They were partially wondering if it had been a staff member that was thrown to the wolves, just to ensure they were genuinely those that Bleeding Hearts was catering to, and not some idiot that had wandered in by mistake, or some form of government official that would agonize over the prospect of murder and death, though given the list of targets they were often saddled with, they would suspect a government worker would be as adept at slaughter as those they claimed to chase down. However, they quickly set this thought aside and made their way towards the door that they had been so graciously hurried into, taking time now to wipe off the blood from their blade utilizing the already-stained handkerchief. They had hoped it would last at least twenty-four hours, but it seemed that such wishes were fool-hardy. Perhaps it was time to retire, if this sort of naiveté was entering their mind.

A voice finally called out, "Congratulations, Howell. You have your match and proved yourself worth of entering Bleeding Hearts."

"Yes, yes," they said in a dismissive and bored tone, permitting themselves a moment to ruminate on the laughable "match" that had occurred. They had elected to utilize their last name, as it was much more likely that their alias, the Hawk's Eye, would be much more recognizable amongst the crowd here. They were certain that they had done work for just about every major crime family, clearing the stage for their desires without batting an eyelash or asking a question. There was no telling how many would be, or actively were, pissed about the fact that they had no loyalties, and as such, their civilian name would be infinitely less recognizable.

They made their way out of the open door, straightening up and smoothing down their now soiled shirt, tutting at the sleeve edge that had a few speckles of rapidly darkening crimson. Should have brought a damn Tide stick, they grumbled to themselves, making their way towards the dark curtains that would take them to their next location-- or victim, with the way things were going.

Finding a simple staircase, they kept their eye out for any other potential individuals, circling up and up until the reached an elaborate ballroom and watched as others filled in, in various states of dishevelment. An eyebrow crept upwards in curiosity at the state everyone else was, covered in blood and bruises and injuries already. Had they gotten the most dull and foolhardy of the bunch, or were these the rest of the foolhardy bunch that they would have to fight? Taking on so many was not an appealing thought, but a grim one they accepted with ease.

However, a woman spoke up first, putting to ease the hand that was creeping towards the vial of poison that they kept tucked close to their chest, inside their jacket pocket. They once more took a glance about the room, particularly at a tall woman that looked like she had practically bathed herself in her opponent's miscalculations. A flicker of a thought that perhaps the others simply relished the fight more than they did passed through their mind before their eyes traveled across the crowd. They weren't necessarily trying to size up anyone, as twenty-five was simply too many, but it seemed as though they would get the chance to see at least a few of them up close, and perhaps personal.

They made their way slowly around the room as if to peer about for their placard, finding themselves close to the two figures with linked arms, offering a closed mouth but charming smile and stating, "I see you really embrace the fact that red is your color," to the woman.

• .
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• outfit (click for better view)
• location

  
  

  ballroom
• tags

  azula

coded by reveriee.

 

[Steve Jobs]

真島聡

Majima Satoshi

mood

I'm trying to be nice, really

outfit

A nice, dark suit

location

Ballroom

tags

Open

When he received the invitation, he was sure that it was a mistake. If anyone to receive an invitation it ought to be the heir to the clan. What value would he bring, other that other family members could not? Still, his leader insisted that he attend to represent the clan and more importantly, find a future fling. He was not under the impression that Bleeding Hearts would find him the love of his life, but the participants had to be better than Japan's dating pool. There weren't many people willing to date Yakuza members that weren't involved in the business themselves. That wasn't to say that he was against dating criminals or criminal-adjacent folk but that territory wars made things difficult.

Still, that didn't mean his standards completely plummeted once he arrived on the island. His opponent for example, was nothing near his type. The girl couldn't have been more than twenty-two years old and rail thin, yet she was face to face with a seasoned Yakuza member. Whether the matches were random or predetermined by the event organizers, the whole thing felt wrong to say the least. Were they testing his chivalry or his skill? He didn't like hitting women, even when his business required it.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're old."

"We don't have to do this. Come back next year."

"Oh are you afraid?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

She obviously didn't feel the same. Tossing his cigarette to the floor, he dodged her first punch and then deflected her second, before side stepping her third strike and grabbing her by the shoulders. Stepping out with one leg, he slammed her to the ground before wrapping his arm around her neck.

"Tap out," he grunted, feeling her struggling against his headlock.

"Like hell I will." Twisting her body, the woman managed to raise herself far enough to tangle the back of her knee around his neck and lock him between her legs.

What was she, a snake?

Kicking upwards, he flung her back onto her back and pinned her down once more. Pressing his forearm against her neck, he could feel her kicking against the floor and her hand grasping for some type of opening.

"I'm not gonna ask again. Tap out."

He was lying of course, he would ask as many times as it took...

...even if it meant take a cigarette to the neck.

Clenching his fist, it took everything it took every gram of willpower not to yell in pain and four more not to punch her.

"I'd..rather...di..." The cigarette slipped from her fingers as consciousness left her body and the Wakagashira staggered to his feet.

"Congratulations, Satoshi. You have won your match and proved yourself worthy of entering Bleeding Hearts!" a voice boomed. The lights overhead illuminated a pathway towards a mahogany door with a black handle. It stood out against the blank walls and equally white floors that somehow survived the various scraps that took place. He glanced back at his opponent, relieved that the color was returning to her face. Hopefully she didn't have connections with any of the other attendees.

Jogging through the door, the Yakuza member let out a sigh of relief at the equally disheveled members of the event. Though it hadn't been his first time standing next to illustrious members of the criminal underground, it was the first time he would be viewing them as dating prospects. Approaching the bar, he ordered a whisky highball, then another, and then a third. He'd need it for the night ahead.

code by @Nano