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Yun Dasol looks around the lobby, so much better appointed than the faux-military brutalism of his former bureau that it felt idolatrous. He briefly considers turning around and leaving right then, turning up his nose in indignation at the laudatory Roman lettering QUASAR behind the desk and marching back off into ignominy. Instead he meekly approaches the desk.
Two weeks ago he'd fled Vladivostok because he couldn't handle it anymore. The bureau couldn't decide whether hazing or hero-worship was the proper mode for interacting with espers, and so it toggled between them with sickening speed, though only for his partners. Yuri was just a guide esper, with a quaint useless power, and so he was safely treated exclusively to the hazing. His skin crawled a bit as he thought about lying in the cot next to Sasha.
They'd said his contract would be up for renewal after the next confluence, but it had been six damn years and that stupid thing was always just a year or two away. He'd started to complain this year, and suddenly it was only months away. Well, they'd lied to him enough. They'd lied that he was a hero, they'd lied that he was special, they'd lied that having a guy grind his dick on your back all night long was anything other than totally gay, they'd lied that that was unpleasant, they'd lied that they wouldn't call him a 'dirty whore' every chance they got for putting up with it, they lied that he wouldn't deserve it, they'd lied about everything about this whole fucking arrangement, so why wouldn't they lie about the confluence happening?
Well, they didn't lie about that last one. And they'd probably string him up if he went back now. It has been exactly too long for "oh I got the flu and couldn't make it back because quarantining haha oops" and he's burnt that bridge by now but—
The only thing somebody like him was good for was a moment like this. And maybe a regrettable drunken encounter in a dirty bathroom stall, but that wasn't a purpose it was a use and even if his dad couldn't be proud of what he did, maybe his family could at least be proud that he helped save some people, in the abstract?
Maybe that would be enough for himself, too.
He bows slightly once he reaches the desk. "Xello," he says, internally cringing at his own Russian accent. He'd learned Korean from Russians, and it hadn't been until he got here that he learned the sound X wasn't the right one. The proper noise eludes his mouth still. "I am looking to sign up as a... with the guild, uh, to xelp with the confluence? If they could use me." Oh, you're great for being used, but that doesn't mean you'll be any help, fucker. "If I can xelp, I mean, someone more talented."
