*No poll*

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“YAH! Get back here!” The fluffy feeling clouds pressed under their feet as the two men punched at each other. TOP fell on his and rubbed the reddening mark on his cheek, “Damn…” He whined and pushed himself up. His opponent was still smiling and full of energy, his fists curled and shirt on the ground.

“Get up TOP! Show me what intelligence can do for fighting.” The elder wiped his bleeding lip and smirked, getting up with ease as the punch started to numb out. With the sun always shining, how could he stay upset?

He spread out his legs covered with hot sweatpants and ran forward, “You asked for it TAEYANG!!” Both were surprisingly active today. Well, it was the Yang God’s fault for being late. He was supposed to give them each a Mission, but like usual, he was really late. Three chairs tipped forward as the men fought below, blasting each other with punches, kicks and bursts of light. That last power was another upside to being a Leader. You’re practically a God. The chairs each were decorated to represent each Leader; one was currently filled in the middle with a bored CL. Her hair was tied back in a long blonde ponytail that touched the middle of her back, her eyes laced with thick eyeliner, face forever free of acne and clothes simple. Her feet swung off the side in black high-tops, leading up her tan legs to black mini-shorts and a gray tank top to fit the summer mood. She looked over on the world monitor and checked for possible Missions. Usually the Yang God would choose those who desperately needed help.

But the world has been such a dark place recently. They’ve heard all about suicides, those Taeyang was too late to get to, teenagers becoming pregnant, the ones TOP couldn’t get through to and followers. The worst thing was being a follower. CL cringed at the name and gritted her teeth. Followers created cliques, cliques set strict rules, these rules led to distrust, no faith, no common sense, no friends, bullies, etc. Really, her job was hardest; she had to stop followers before they made Taeyang and TOP’s jobs harder. Because, lacking in confidence meant lacking in faith and intelligence. CL could handle pressure though; there was never a time where she was pushed under it. She never understood why being a follower was so good. Sure, those being followed had glory, but they all grew cocky at one point or another and make bad decisions. Being a follower was the worst thing you could be; it’ll strip you of independence, freedom and individuality. “TAKE THAT JACKASS!” CL wandered her gaze to the two men and clenched her fist, the monitor disappearing into the thin air.

She sat up, hands on her knees and cried, “YAH! WHERE’S YG?!” Taeyang paused, letting TOP get a punch to the groin. Even as a God-it still hurt. He doubled up and collapsed, groaning cuss words as TOP danced around, happy he had won. CL gritted her teeth and sulked back into her seat, “Jeez, I live eternity with a pair of idiots.” She sighed, “Where’s YG?”

TOP looked up from his dance and straightened, fixing his serious posture and atmosphere, “He should’ve been here, CL. Please, be patient, you know how he gets really busy, very often.”

She snorted and sighed, “I just wish he’d come on time for once. It’s like he doesn’t care about his Leaders!”

“Of course I care!” Beside the grumbling Taeyang, materialized the Yang God, YG for short. He wore a casual black suit, a nice white shirt under his jacket, shiny gray shoes and a gold watch on his wrist. Though, he didn’t need to tell time. What was the point? YG bent down to Taeyang and patted his back, “I’ll have an angel get you some ice, Bae.”

“A-Ah…Thank you, Sajangnim.” He managed.

YG looked up and grinned at CL, “Chaerin, you know I treat all three of you like my own children. Taeyang especially.” The Yang God was Taeyang’s adoptive father. He had no wife, but saw the lonely boy wandering the streets and took him in. YG was the one who gave the nickname ‘Taeyang’ and had cared for him before his strange disappearance when Taeyang turned eighteen years old. It was also the time when Chaerin had started dating Taeyang. YG kissed the girl’s head and sighed, “TOP is right, when he’s not acting crazy. I have different work that must be finished. But I know you three won’t mind because you’re caring and understanding.”

CL snorted, “Aish.” YG laughed, even though his face was meant for a business man’s, he was rather soft-hearted and jolly. Definitely a ‘Yang’ than a ‘Yin’. “So. What are the new Missions?”

He snapped, “Ah. The Missions.” He smiled and waved his hand, “Firstly,” his voice echoed throughout the sky, “Can one of the male angels bring an ice pack for Taeyang? TOP got him right where ‘the-Sun-don’t-shine’.” He chuckled before his voice went back to normal and straightened out his jacket. The clouds on the other side parted and a young man came through, holding a bag, “Hey Taecyeon!” He waved, his wings flapping cheerfully.

“Are you sure TOP was the one who hit him? I thought CL would be the first one who’d hit him in the-“

“Ah! Shut up Taecyeon!” She snarled and gripped the arms of her chair, “Jesus! Just because I’m his ex, doesn’t mean I’d hit him in the crotch.” Taeyang took the pack with a smile and shrugged to her, “Don’t give me that look.” She snapped at him.

Taeyang got up, the pack on his crotch and he thanked Taecyeon while punching TOP’s chest, “See you Tae!”

“You too, Bae! Bye TOP!”

“Later.” TOP sat on the right side of CL, snapping his fingers. A fine black suit materialized over his body, his silvery hair re-gelling itself to stand and thick black glasses on his nose. “Ready, Sajangnim.” He crossed his legs and smiled smugly.

Taeyang closed his eyes, the ice pack resting beside his leg. His shorts were replaced with tan jeans, a silver chain falling out of his pocket, his bare chest was clothed with a loose black tank top, and a bandana tied around the base of his spiky black hair, “Ready!” He smiled cheerfully.

“Good.” YG wiped the space in front of him, “I will read Missions from oldest to youngest. We will be focusing in on our homeland, South Korea. TOP,” a baby-faced red head appeared on his side of the screen, “your Mission is to get this ‘hot-mess’ in order. Park Bom is twenty-nine years old, currently working as a waitress in a local café in downtown Seoul. She might have a different job by the time you get there. She’s a smoker, and sleeps around, the woman has no common sense-or schools smarts to aid her.”

TOP groaned, “What a burden.” He growled and adjusted his glasses, “Yes sir. I accept.”

“You have no choice.” YG joked, “Taeyang, I’m afraid your jobs are a bit hard to deal with.” He sighed, bringing up a different panel, “Your Mission is to heal Sandara Park. After twenty-eight years, it’s sad to say she’s been through too much. She’s had a very tough life, not being able to have faith in herself or other people. She holds façade most of the time. Very disappointing, please do your best.”

Taeyang nodded and made a fist, “I will do everything I can to help her, Sajangnim!”

YG turned to the middle chair and randomly asked, “CL, your chair has always been that pure white color. Why don’t you change it?”

She smirked, “Because white can be whatever it wants. With only one color, you’re stuck with that one color in that one shade of it. White is free.” It was always the same answer; maybe he liked hearing someone say it out loud.

“Very well. Mission number three, is to help out ordinary-man Kwon Jiyong. He’s called G-Dragon, but his so called friends only use it as a joke since he’s the man who’s quiet. He’s humble and a people pleaser.” YG chuckled and closed his eyes, a satisfying smirk curving on his lips, “He’s what you’d call a follower.”

CL clenched her fists and scoffed, “I’m not surprised. Of course I’ll take it, Sajangnim. One less to worry about.”

“Now, that’s the spirit. You leave in two hours.”