park jimin longs for change and for what lies beyond his polluted, murky sky.
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herein lies jimin's adventures among a starship, gloss, capturing criminals with his newfound bounty hunter acquaintances and finding love in a man he...
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EARTH NEO TORKYO, NORTH AMERICA CIRCA 6018
Jimin stays in the library throughout the entire landing situation. He feels when they breach through the Earth's atmosphere and feels a tug in him to find a window, but he stays put. He keeps to the book he'd been skimming through, and to his comm for words he wasn't sure of the meaning of, and tried to not think of where he currently was.
He can feel the ship stop running when they land. He wonders what everything looks like. Had they landed in a desolate field or a busy station? Were other ships around or was it only theirs? Is decay evident all around them, or was that only Jimin's home? Home, he thinks bitterly. Homes don't feel the way New Seoul does. Fogged and cluttered and meaningless; that isn't a home. What he has found on Gloss, in the people he'd grown close to in nearing on a year, that's what home is.
It's comfort and bonding and trust and letting yourself feel like you deserve to exist, not just trying for a means of survival.
It was when he felt a shift throughout the ship, like a jerky settling, and then a slight drop as if they were being lowered, that his curiosity caught the better half of him. He'd abandoned his book from where he sat at a table, nearly left his pearly comm as well, and hurried out of the library.
Many of the crew members were rushing about the corridors in preparation for releasing the bounty, or to fulfill the duties needed to be carried out in the process of landing. Jimin weaseled his way through them all and found a windowed wall. He was right, they were being lowered. And they were in a field. And it was nothing New Seoul.
They were on a metal platform being slowly lowered into the ground. He was just a little over eye level with the grassy flooring, and felt his stomach plummet to his feet. On Earth, actual grass. It was wispy and thin, light green with patches of dying brown, but still grass. The blades would tilt west with the wind before swaying to a standstill and then fluttering west again. There wasn't a blue sky, but there was the strong warmth of sun he could feel coming from the glass. With his palms pressed against the window, he closes his eyes and preens towards the warmth until it's gone and all that is left is residual.
They've been swallowed up by the ground and Jimin peels himself away from the glass. Nice things last only for seconds like that here. No matter if he's in New Seoul or the other side of the world, Earth is as Earth was and it's continuity didn't surprise him.
He wanders for a bit, avoiding his room and restless beyond belief. It was the middle of the day apparently so they only had a few hours until nightfall. Except, he remembers soberly, the concept of daylight doesn't exactly exist if it isn't there. That concept must not be a thing for the city underground. Jimin finds his way to the bridge. How much of this place was underground?
