Vᴀɴᴅᴇʀʙɪʟᴛ Aᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ Fᴏʀ Tʜᴇ Eʟɪᴛᴇ © discussion

Mirabelle scoffed and turned away. “Ha!” If he thought she was going to leave when she just wanted to smoke in peace, the joke was on him. Mirabelle plopped herself in the sand, obstinate as ever. She’d stay here smoking until her pack ran out or she died, whichever came first. And being aggressively anti-social had its perks: she didn’t have to be anywhere until 1AM for her street race.

"Ha," he mocked sourly, his voice an octave higher to match hers. When she sat down in the sand, Jungmin took that as his cue to look away and focus again on his scheming. He loved his sister, but sometimes, she could be really stupid. Her wedding was in two weeks and he'd be leaving for Seoul in a week. That means, he had seven days to break up his sister and her fiance. The thing is... how? Unconsciously, he found himself looking at the girl. Could she help?

Mirabelle felt Jungmin’s eyes on her. “Do you need something?” She asked, her tone indicating she would not help in the slightest. She just wanted to smoke in peace, in a cave, all alone... so maybe her social life wasn’t extraordinary but she was just fine with that. Mirabelle planned to go to bed in the next hour or two so she got enough sleep by midnight. Mirabelle was practically nocturnal, most of her activity, illegal and not, occuring in the wee hours of the morning.

"Seeing as you look like a certified hooligan, would you happen to know the best way to break up a couple that's getting married in two weeks?" Jungmin dared to ask, tilting his head. He still looked at her with a genuine expression of disgust, but if she could give him at least the slightest bit of an idea for a plan, or a plan entirely, then maybe he'd ignore the fact that she was basically committing suicide through a cigarette.

“Beat ‘em up.” Mirabelle replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Violence was almost always the answer to all of Mirabelle’s problems. It’s why she was such a devout member of Fight Club after all: none of that peaceful bs, just bashing some people up. It was simple and easy, just what she liked when solving problems .

His eyes narrowed at her. "You see, I'm not about to beat up my soon-to-be brother-in-law, so any other ideas that, um, don't involve violence?" he told her. Why was Jungmin still asking her for help? It's because he's desperate, and maybe talking to her will keep her from smoking her damn cigarette. It was probably wishful thinking, but at least he could try.

“Hm.” Now Mirabelle was stuck. That got rid of all her ideas: pushing off a cliff, breaking ribs to get him to leave, hitting his head so he passed out so he could be shipped off abroad. Taking a drag, Murabelle pondered the thought some more. “Bribe?” She offered, after a solid three minutes of dedicated thinking. “Or find him a prettier girl so he’ll leave your sister?”

"Huh... Y'know, the latter might just work. He's that much of a douche that I can suspect he'd leave my sister for another girl. Thank you, heathen," Jungmin said will a small grin, genuinely appreciative for the help, but deciding to mask it with the small insult. She'd probably heard it before, but he'd made sure to put emphasis through a sing-song voice in the word. Sue him if it was petty.

“You’re secretly thankful.” Mirabelle told Jungmin, pausing her smoking while holding her cigarette in her left hand. “Admit it, you’re grateful. Your insults won’t throw me off the scent of gratitude.” Inserting her cigarette back inbetween her lips, Mirabelle took a slow, thoughtful drag. Huh. She had actual done something that was not self serving today.