2025-10-12: The Tower
- Log: The Tower
- Cast: So-young Park, Myunghon Yeo
- Where:
- OOC Date: October 12, 2025
- IC Date: July 25, 2012
- Summary: Feeling unsafe to go home, Myunghon stays over at So-young's instead and finds just how lavish lavish can get.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"Welcome... to the sanctum," So-young intones dramatically after she swipes her card key and a cheery jingle has emitted from the lock. Her apartment is some distance up one of the larger buildings in Shibuya - not penthouse level, but certainly pretty classy and liable to have an extremely good view. Even the name of the building speaks to how premium it is, because it's not just X Tower, but 'The Tower'. You pay extra for the ego.
She immediately kicks her heels off with a sigh, nudging them with her foot into a small closet to one side of the entrance. There's a hook for her purse, too, and a little stand for her violin bag, and then she's stretching her arms up as she paces into what is a tiny little hall space with doors on every side. "Uh... bathroom," she indicates one door, then the others in turn. "Toilet, my bedroom, living room. The second bedroom is off the living room, but... uh..."
So-young trails off there, deciding that whatever surprise lays in wait can continue to be a surprise for now, and simply walks into the living room instead - easily the largest space in the apartment, with a kitchenette attached and a balcony off to one side where the bedrooms can also look onto it.
It's hard to say that So-young has made the place truly her own - it's only been two years and there's a certain 'I'm living here like it's a hotel' vibe that her habits tend to reinforce rather than dispel - but she has done a lot to try. An eclectic set of paintings and sketches are dotted around the walls, including some which don't even look finished and fade into blank canvas as if she rescued them after their artist got dissuaded but before they threw them out. The couch is very fancy white leather, though there's a mess of blankets on it as if someone simply chooses to sleep here sometimes. The kitchen is... suspiciously clean, not quite 'unused' but definitely pretty close.
A big chunk of the room is clearly reserved for her 'desk space' - not one but two electric pianos are stood up there, with a large synth machine to one side and an actual desk to the other, making one large semicircle. This is clearly where she stores her endless supply of staff paper, but the actual space is pretty well organized. So-young might be expected to be the sort of person to have scattered pages everywhere, but each project she has underway is neatly marked and held together with paperclips under a cover sheet, staggered so she can see the titles of each.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
> Nuna
> Could I please come over tonight
> I don't feel safe right now
This technically is the SECOND time they've asked to stay over at their sister's apartment because they're scared about something. How does this keep happening. Why do things keep happening to them.
"That's electronic...?" Myunghon sounds marvelled at something as simple as a card key swipe. This is definitely a level of fancy that they're not terribly used to, even with their time in corporate. They've got one of their white-coat getups today -- a chocolate ruffle-blouse with a black ribbon tie, the white A-line inverted pleat skirt, black leggings. They follow So-young's lead in taking their shoes off, meticulously putting them to one side.
"This is quite a lot larger than I expected," they remark from behind their sleeve, a little goggle-eyed at the sight. "It still looks like how you'd expect it from rental agency photos..." Which in a way does suggest that So-young hasn't quite made it hers yet, but that's not entirely true. There's paintings and sketches, and that does bring to mind how So-young was quite interested in patrons of the arts too.
"Do you rent this place, or... did you buy it?" Myunghon still looks like they've stepped through a portal and has entered a wonderland of some kind. They stop at one of the pianos and just experimentally lays a finger on it, as if it'll electrocute them for daring to touch them without musical talent. Their eyes fish out more when they see the project notes, which... actually, somehow, make sense and lend some measure of credence to how they might be more alike than they think.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young has yet to ask why Myunghon might be feeling unsafe. She's simply not the sort to even broach the subject in the first place, never mind the fact that she's aware of a half-dozen potential reasons Myunghon might feel that way at any given moment. The conductor is honestly a little surprised at herself for agreeing - her apartment isn't a sanctum, as much as she might joke, but she's definitely not used to keeping guests here. It's mostly clean, but some areas of it are messy in subtle ways - cupboards and closets left open, her bedding rumpled, a glass left out.
"I'm living on my own, after all. When I was searching for a place to live, one set of criteria was definitely 'good locks, good security cameras, handsome doormen'," So-young lists off with an easy grin. This is part of why she's not really opposed to putting up Myunghon at her place - she really did try to go for some place relatively secure, and while she's sure her mother could find a way to get someone in here if she really wanted, that's true of just about anywhere else.
"You wouldn't believe how fussy they get about making alterations to your apartment here," she notes as she steps through to the kitchenette and pulls open the fridge. It's not bare, but it's also not like there are actual ingredients in there, just some prepackaged things and a pitcher of water she pulls out. "And I have much better things to do than paint a bunch of walls anyway."
There's a low, steady 'dooooooo' from the piano as if welcoming Myunghon to the space, and So-young looks up with a bright smirk as she walks over to the couch and its coffee table. "I'm still renting. There's some kind of rent-to-buy system I'm accruing credit towards, but I haven't bothered looking into it yet. At the time, I wasn't certain if this was where I wanted to stay." She pauses to look out over the cityscape, and hums to herself. "I do like being so central, though."
She hesitates as her gaze crosses over the other door out of the living room. "... so, uh. I should probably confess up and admit that the second bedroom... isn't one, at the moment. If you're not okay with the couch, let me know."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
The apartment is ironically a lot more secure than anything Myunghon has access to, given that they've never had the luxury of living in anything approaching a double-gated community of any kind. The Cardboard Dragon is a very publicly accessible building, after all, and the only other means of security they have is by virtue of anonymity with the other safehouses that they purportedly have access to.
"You have... doormen too?" Myunghon sounds like a child discovering the wonders of Christmas. "I would like security cameras, but it's quite expensive and I'd have to get someone else to install it..." they murmur. "Right now, it's barely enough that people have to walk all the way around the alley to reach the shop." They're seated at the white leather couch before too long, the white coat rather matching the color. They accept the water before too long as well, as they glance out towards the undoubtedly impressive balcony views as well.
The question of 'where does all this money come from' is definitely actively on their mind, and they kind of hate that the answer is 'mom is that generous with her money to So-young'. "What other places did you have in mind? Central Shibuya is about as money as it gets," Myunghon reflects. "Some would even argue that there are other trendy residential areas that've risen as a result of people being outpriced out of wards like these. Being a guest conductor pays that much, hmm..."
That last part is a little like fishing, perhaps, for So-young to correct with more truth.
There's a pause as So-young admits the second bedroom isn't a bedroom. "... the couch is fine," they answer. "The sling is supposed to come off soon... but sleeping upright is apparently helpful." Wait, they're not even going to lie DOWN on the couch?
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"I think they're mostly for show, because it's Shibuya," So-young notes as she sits herself at the other end of the couch. She hasn't changed out of her clothes into something more comfortable, but maybe what's ost comfortable to So-young is keeping her identity in place. "You know, to smile and wave and look good to anyone coming through the doors? But it still means there's someone downstairs keeping watch at the doors, at least."
The conductor's eyebrows slowly raise. If even So-young can pick up that attempt to fish for information it could have been more subtle, but she doesn't seem offended as she looks over to her desk and the staggered stack there. "Conductors do get paid pretty well, I'll admit. Better than anyone else in the orchestra, which-- I mean, I'm not really sure I agree," she shrugs, "But a paycheck is a paycheck. Besides, music is the sort of industry where you end up doing a lot on the side - I'm still composing background music for the movie studio and a couple of k-dramas, for a start, and I've had some local idol groups approach me."
More like she approached them out of sheer exuberance, but who's counting?
With a frown, So-young considers the question of where and how Myunghon will sleep. She's never worn a sling, so when it comes to doctor's orders vs. her own intuition, she's forced to frown slightly and can't do much but accept it. "I guess we can just prop you up on a bunch of cushions or something," she shrugs, and then brightens. "That's good, though. I turned the second bedroom into my music room pretty much the moment I moved in."
... if the apartment complex doesn't like her painting walls, it remains an open question what they would think of her deciding a bedroom is not actually a bedroom. But then, So-young actually cares about one of those things and not the other.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
There is something in having people at reception, the reasons hotels do it -- it gives it a stately kind of appearance, doesn't it? Like it's a signifier of who's allowed to be here or not, they're rich enough to have people manning the entrance.
Myunghon's pulled up into that cocooned state by the time So-young's turned back, their knees positively up to their cheeks as they watch her swan around. "You must have a lot of media where you composed for it," they observe, glancing around and seeing if they can find any. So-young just seems the type to buy a boxed DVD set just because she was responsible for the soundtrack on a drama. "You've written idol songs too...?"
The topic of the music room does intrigue the white-haired Rumourmonger slightly. "If I open the door to the music room, will I have a dramatic reaction?" they inquire.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
There is a long shelf on the TV unit which is eighty percent full of a library of CDs - though many of them are plain unmarked gem cases rather than box sets, their CDs marked with felt pen in So-young's hand to indicate their status as the many master copies that So-young has burned to disc. When they do have labels they appear to be orchestral performances and theatre productions more than a box set of TV dramas - soundtracks appear to be her only real allowance there. Maybe she watches them to see how her work paid off, but doesn't seem inclined to collect them.
Suddenly animated, So-young beams. "Underground music is the best music," she declares confidently. "There's something raw and vibrant about a new singer or band putting themselves out there for the first time that makes me want to encourage them. If I weren't enjoying being in Shibuya I would probably be in Yongen-jaya or Shimokitazawa for all the little hole-in-the-wall live houses they have," the conductor rattles off quickly. "I'm told that I'm a pretty good manager, too, if only because the one thing that most new musicians lack is assertiveness."
The question out of the blue makes So-young hesitate, and a frown flickers across her face for a moment, like she's not completely sure if she's just being made fun of. "... I don't know how to answer that," she grumps plainly, folding her arms as she glances again towards the door. "It's just--"
She blinks as the comparison comes naturally, and finds herself in a bit of a stream of consciousness. "--you've got your piles of books, right? And I bet you've got your favorites you keep coming back to? Well, that room is my pile of books. They're precious, but they're also things I like picking up and using day in and day out. And I bet you've got people who go 'oh those poor books you should put them on a shelf forever or they'll fall apart' but you'd rather be reading them again and again. It's like that."
... it's not quite clear what her point is, and maybe the main thing to take from that is 'it's probably messy in there'.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
How fascinating. The stack of CDs, marked with tape and pens rather than anything storebought, speaks to a wide and expansive history in its own right. These would be some of the copies that originated here, or whatever studio So-young worked out of. It's not a clone; it's the source.
"Angura..." Myunghon whispers, though that's not quite the same thing. Not altogether unrelated, however. "Is that why you took an interest in Gas Chamber too? He's visited me too, you know. He seems like a good kid."
There's ample consideration with that last part that has Myunghon thinking, though. Something deep and reflective, as they push their stockinged legs down to say, "... how do you inspire assertiveness in people? I think I could also use some, if mother is any indication."
It might not be fair, given how different having assertiveness is in Myunghon's line of work as opposed to being a part of an orchestra. But even as So-young starts to make a comparison between their interest in books and music room, Myunghon declares by near the end of it:
"I'm exercising some assertiveness right now."
They open the door to the music room.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"--Angura might be overselling it a little," So-young laughs happily in response. "But I suppose you're not wrong. You know, for a while, I was really into rakugo as well? I think maybe it's just something about the closeness of it all. You're not just listening to a recording - you're there in the room with the people making the music or the art right in front of you, and so what if the acoustics aren't perfect or the performance isn't polished to a mirror sheen?"
This is clearly some fervent belief given how animated she's getting, and she beams at the mention of Gas Chamber. "Only a musician can know how truly nerve-wracking a debut can be. I can at least be one extra body in the room to encourage them on, don't you think?"
A frown does flicker across her face. So-young is not exactly one for navel-gazing, but she has the presence of mind to at least admit: "... I'm not sure I intend to inspire anything. In most cases, I'm just being assertive _in their place_ until they can figure it out on their own. I think I would probably make an awful teacher," she admits. "I'd either confuse everyone by going 'I just do things' or else accidentally leave them in the dust."
And yet, she manages to be more approachable than a lot of conductors, if by her own admission. Though that may say more about conductors than it does about her.
She lifts up from the couch in a fake slow-motion, a drawn-out 'nooooooo' accompanying her outstretched arm - but she doesn't hold it for long, and shrugs with a grin as Myunghon opens the dread door. It's not like there's a rubbish pile of discarded violins or anything - rather, instead of a bed there's a large desk with several instruments laid out on it: a space for her usual violin, a viola sat next to it, a flute of all things, that obnoxious theremin, several small woodblocks that are possibly percussion instruments. A guitar is supported upright on a brace on the wall.
... it's a bit chaotic, but there's obvious evidence she's being cautious. The curtains are drawn to prevent direct sunlight, and the AC is keeping the humidity regulated. The open closet has a variety of hard cases in various sizes.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
"Rakugo...? I admit I am a little surprised," Myunghon confesses. "That seems a step closer to audience closeness than a proper concert hall. But I suppose you have an 'indie' streak about you as well, no matter how proper you like to dress or project at times. I suppose that makes two of us that live in two worlds," the Rumourmonger concludes, apparently having drawn some conclusions by themself as they open the door.
There is a pause as they look over their shoulder. "The natural instinct to be assertive is already paying off quite well for you in these times when you've discovered the supernatural, in a way I argue is helping you much better than it did for me." It's clear they were already distracted about -- not the supernatural, exactly, but perhaps they've been drawn into a mood of comparing the two of them all over again.
"... hh."
They pause as they step into the room and take it all in--
"For all the pomp and circumstance you attributed to it, I was expecting to fall into a wonderland. This feels more a workshop, an atelier if you would..." Myunghon ruminates. "Now your analogy on the books makes sense. This isn't a mausoleum of instruments."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
"I love music, but I also like the-- what was the term? The 'human condition'?" So-young has to frown, because she only dimly remembers those lessons and doesn't really ever tend to think about putting a name to how she acts or what she focuses on. "It's not just the music itself, but how people make it, how they tug on your heartstrings."
As she steps up behind Myunghon, she taps the Rumourmonger lightly on the shoulder as if in hopes it might break her sibling out of drawing comparisons between them. "Only thanks to a great deal of dumb luck. If you hadn't found me in that first Palace, where exactly would my assertiveness have gotten me?" And, alright, her assertiveness also got a gun pointed in her face by a corrupt police officer, but she doesn't think bringing that up would be very helpful. Besides, her secret is she'd do it again.
"Right? I don't want to collect something only to put it in a locked box and treat it like it's dead. These are tools for making music, so I'll make music with them. Except the flute," she adds out of nowhere, her hands planted on her hips in a huff. "The flute might just die. I simply do not understand how to get the right lip shape to play it properly, but I'll be damned if I give up now."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
For a moment, Myunghon mistakes So-young for talking about how they often hear people talk about Osamu Dazai 'knowing the human condition'. Oops. It was still about music, after all. But, in a way, that's common to all art -- it all leads back to 'the human condition'. It's all always anthropological, in the eternal observance of how X and Y and Z makes human react. What causes music to generate frisson, chills, on the human skin? Why is it that modulation piques interest?
Maybe if they viewed it from a scientific basis, they could be more into music.
"Hmm. Dumb luck does count for a lot, and your continued verve is no less appreciated," Myunghon does reflect slowly, but they do understand the tapping does mean something, so they focus more upon the workshop itself. Something about the phrasing of locking it in a box to treat it like it's dead does make them reflect, though, even though they're the one who said it wasn't a mausoleum in the first place.
"... I have to sleep on the couch because these precious instruments are taking up the bed," they point out. ... oh, so they ARE sulky about having to sleep on the couch??
"That is a joke," they follow up. "But I would like you to play for me, So-young."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
It may be the composer in So-young more than the musician that makes her think like this, or perhaps it's the way she started out her professional life as a producer and a conductor - either way, she's gained an critical eye for how to make her music evoke an emotion rather than the raw excellence of actually playing it perfectly. Still, maybe it shows an understanding of why she accepts the Cardboard Dragon as it is, with its rather strange layout with shop on one side and sprawling library on another.
"I appreciate you saying so," is her prim response to her sibling, before she laughs quietly, more genuinely than some of her bright cackles. "Still, I'm glad there are people who actually know enough about what's going on to support my mad rushes. Try not to put yourself down too much. We're each our own person."
"I _never even bought_ a second bed," she replies, looking incredibly and improbably proud of herself for doing so. "And one day the building manager will surely have a heart attack over his wonderful 2LDK becoming an 1-and-a-bit-LDK, I'm sure. Until then my dear children will get to live in their air conditioned luxury space. You know, I run it in here more than I do in the living room? Humidity is magic, I am telling you."
After musing for a moment, she picks up the viola - it's a larger instrument than her violin. "Suitable for lazily winding down at the end of the day," she explains as she carries it back out to the living room to sit back down. "There are some violin players who would look at me with contempt for even picking up one of these, you know."
Something strikes her before she starts playing, and she frowns uncertainly for a moment. "... you know, if you would like the spare keycard, it is yours should you ever need it. It does not have any markings that would indicate where it can be used," she adds, because she's slowly getting used to what considerations may need making.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Myunghon, despite owning the Cardboard Dragon, would likely sulk at how unscientific that is, while also acknowledging that music is an exceptionally difficult field of science in the slightest, because the arrangement of musical notes and the playing thereof can be a precise thing, and yet the reaction it evokes in people is entirely uneven and cannot be replicated across even a large sample size.
No, too difficult.
"I'm not putting myself down," Myunghon insists. "Consider it a continued study in how to... learn from you," they try to remain neutral like they're not saying something that a sibling can soooo totally bully them over. "Even today I felt too scared to take the train home by myself. I felt eyes watching over me, and I'm convinced I've seen the same man following me for a few days now..."
Okay, so they are putting themself down a little still. They follow her back to the living room as So-young carries the viola out. "... I don't understand. Is it much more different than a Large shirt over a Medium shirt?"
But So-young offers Myunghon a spare keycard to her very own apartment, and they look perplexed and surprised at the offer, bandaged hand coming to their neckline. "... are you certain? That would be helpful, yet..." A pause. "... ... there is a non-zero chance your precious viola might reek of disinfectant."
Yet another beat.
"That is also a joke."
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young's brow flickers, and again the words bubble up to her throat as they have so often recently - should she give the game away and admit that she knows something of what's going on? But that's a can of worms she has no particular desire to open directly, even with all of her self-assuredness. She's not sure whether it would even be wise to ask about the encounter, given everything that's happened as of late, in case it might just feed into a paranoia. "I don't think 'wary' is the antithesis of 'assertive'," she notes instead with a faint grin.
With a nod, she lifts the viola to her chin and draws the larger bow across it. In comparison to her violin, the sound is lower and deeper - but given the size, she clearly can't play it as dexterously and quickly as some of the more driving melodies she could manage on her violin. "Most musicians have a terrible ego," she says in explanation. "And are fiercely protective of their specific craft."
She snorts at Myunghon's joke, taking it entirely in stride. "I'm not so restrictive as to deny my instruments the chance to have another suitor," she somehow manages to say with a straight face, which makes the issue of her calling them her children extremely tangled before she laughs again. "They're just objects. They can be replaced or, god forbid, cleaned. Again, if I truly wanted to keep them intact forever I'd put them all in boxes."
"... call it my own olive branch, I guess. I've been hanging out at yours a lot, after all," she adds, a little awkwardly.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
In a way, Myunghon already knows that that indiscretion when the incident first happened, the way they told Shinjiro and Umie, must have bubbled back onto the others. Perhaps they need to take the lead here. "I see..."
But even they can't stop but get a bit goggle-eyed about that analogy So-young makes about her instruments and how if she really wanted to treat them like children -- forever -- she'd put them all into boxes. There's about five seconds of awkward silence.
"... that seems to hit us both a little close, given mother," they admit.
But So-young is happy to call it an olive branch. "Hmm... very well, thank you, nuna. This is a much more central location, as you said. I will have to study on where the nearest sources of medical supplies, Velvet Room, and weapons are, so that if we ever have to base operations out of Tokyo again..."
Oi oi, this person... don't use your sibling's apartment as a forward operation base.
<Pose Tracker> So-young Park has posed.
So-young is already hanging her head. "No-- I-- well, let's just strike that one from the record, can we?" she pleads with a deep-set sigh as she lifts her head back up, having come to much the same conclusion. "And just so that we're clear, I'm offering this more as a place to be able to escape your worries, not compound them. If I find you being a workaholic here then I reserve the right to beat you up. If I find you bleeding out here I may throw you off the balcony."
"... that is also a joke," she appends after a moment, though there's a certain steel in her eyes as she adds: "But it is also not an invitation to bleed out any more than you already keep doing."
At least she relents immediately, letting out a breath. "For me, stepping through that door is where I can leave some of my worries behind. This is my space, and my chance to reset myself. Alright, that's not exactly foolproof by any means, especially with the amount of work I do, but... it's not the first time I've thought you could do with some kind of line like that you can draw somewhere."
That appears to be the extent of her thoughts on the matter; she doesn't really like being a nagging sister, so instead she just lifts the viola to her chin again and begins to play a slow, low melody. There's no real composition to it, so much as a meandering sound.