serpents and sons | taekook

Interlude: Seokjin (The Bastard)

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London is overrun with crime, the corruption running deep in the heart of their so-called justice. Taehyung finds himself disgusted by the lack of care taken by this country's "police". They watch as too many go unpunished for the crimes they commit, too many getting a free pass while leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

They find home in a small building filled with the people left to suffer in response. The miscreants, petty criminals- street rats. 'Our kind of people,' Yoongi mutters as they settle in, and they all have to agree. They've always attracted the unwanted, the exiled and castaways. When they were a small force outside the emperor's walls, to a doctor who gave free service to the poor - or a crew finding a home on the seas, to a street gang on the streets of london.

Location made no difference, because where a god of mischief lay - trouble followed.

In this old country, this old brick-laid city, Taehyung switches forms again. After centuries he craves the softness of a woman's body over the harshness of a man's. Dark curls and softer skin, heels accentuating her height to blend in as she walks the streets with her 'guards' at her heels.

Over time they gain a reputation - as they do - for stepping in when trouble hits. Preventing women from getting taken advantage of, Putting despicable men in their places. Shaking down businesses and supporting the less fortunate. They protect the street urchins that get ignored, leaving food and clothes. They even leave money for brothels, knowing some of those women have no other way to live and survive.

A woman with an army is how she'll be remembered. A woman who will rule the streets of London with barely a lift of her finger. A master of the underhanded, and a mistress of the city.

Their name builds, their pockets growing heavy from the donations of their citizens, and then travesty hits.

'There's been a string of murders,' they hear as they sit around their homey little pub in the late summer, early fall of 1888. Whores, prostitutes, butchered and left to rot.

Jimin's face pinches at their words and Yoongi wraps an arm around his waist, a hand on his hip. Hoseok sidles over to the gossips and settles down beside them, flashing a bright smile as he asks for more information.

'Jack the Ripper' they call him, and Taehyung remarks the name is terribly unoriginal. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear as her brothers laugh, but the rest of the pub is silent. No matter, the jotunn thinks.

Taehyung asks if they have any idea who committed the crimes, but the barkeep only gives her a shrug. The portly woman tosses a rag over her shoulder and Taehyung watches as she rolls her eyes, moving to clean her glasses.

'It's not as if it's a top priority,' she says, 'they're just whores. No one cares.'

And so they all quiet, sharing a look.

They are the children and the brothers and the protectors of whores. The icons for the helpless, the underdogs. They are the mischief-makers and the revenge takers.

Taehyung simply stands, gripping her skirts as she moves closer to the bar. Takes a stool in front of the barkeep and leans an elbow over the chipped wood. The other woman looks startled by her sudden interest and her fingers tremble despite her admirable efforts to disguise it. 'Tell me the name of who is in charge,' she demands, and there is no room for argument in her tone. What she asks for, she gets.

And as it turns out the police are useless - although of that, they had had little doubt. Their evidence is plentiful but their heads are empty and their hearts even more so. Even Hoseok runs into roadblocks at every turn despite using every trick at his disposal.

So, they find themselves stuck. They stick to the streets then, using every line of information they have at their disposal. However it seems after just a few deaths the killer has hit a bit of a pause and they have no other leads to follow. For a few days, weeks, Taehyung hears hesitant whispers of women speculating if he is done, if he has gotten tired of the chaos.

And then, as Taehyung is taking a late-night walk with Jimin, they hear a piercing scream down the street. These are streets they are familiar with, intimately, and in an instant there is something dark brewing in Taehyung's chest. They don't say a word before they sprint down the cobblestone, eyes already catching the red velvet curtains of the brothel just ahead.

Then there's another, and a crash, and they burst in through the double doors to see a familiar young man holding another against the wall. He's clearly furious by the twist of his expression and the firm way he grips the older man by his lapel. Taehyung recognizes him in an instant.

His name is Seokjin, and they've run into him before - although infrequently - over the years.

He's a bastard son, as they always seem to be, left behind to be raised by his mother, and the other women, of the brothel. He is young but spirited, always ready to jump and lend a hand, always the first to throw a fist in someone else's name. He's their protector, of sorts, and he looks distraught.

Seokjin startles when he sees them but they're familiar enough faces that he quickly lets his guard down, spilling what had happened. He doesn't release the man in his hand, almost seeming to lift him higher as he spits the words out.

'There's another victim upstairs,' he says. Mary Jane - a popular woman in this particular brothel, and someone Taehyung has spoken to before herself. She and Jimin can see the blood on Seokjin's clothes now, drying on his sleeves and smeared over his pants as if he had tried to wipe his hands clean.

Seokjin then explains that this man was the one who had found her - hence the near strangulation, Taehyung figures. He's the most obvious immediate suspect when there were no witnesses, and Seokjin then goes to add that Mary has had an unusually slow day - so the list only gets shorter.

However, they eventually convince him to release the man reluctantly. His hands are still shaking, nails caked in blood, but Taehyung pulls him into a hug. Blood has never bothered her, and never will. She has shed too much on her own to flinch at something so small.

She can hear Jimin talking behind them, speaking to the madame of the building maybe. Asking for information, requesting to see the body. Taehyung lets him go on without her, trusting Jimin's eyes as he goes to follow the women up the creaking stairs. Taehyung's focus is on the boy in her arms anyway, on the way he relaxes against her chest, tears clogging his throat.

'I want him dead,' Seokjin then whispers as they are left alone. 'I want him to pay.'

Taehyung continues to pet his hair silently, mind already racing.

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