I: s on edge

22:51

Jungin’s exposed shoulders and ashen grey hair catch the moonlight as she carefully peaks out from the shadows that hide her on the pier. According to the Snow’s safety laws to protect women from “the few hateful men left in this country”, she is not allowed to be out at this hour. Jungin nearly scoffs aloud at the thought. All of that bull is exactly that to her—and Jungin had never been one to do what was expected of her.

Her short black dress blazes behind her as she dashes behind, between, and around the large crates on the pier. She’s at Pier 6 when she sees the modelesque blonde she had been looking for smoking a cigarette outside of a warehouse at Pier 7, only paces from where she is herself. The blonde turns as Jungin’s hair dazzles under the moonlight again. She smiles a bit before waving the ashen grey beauty over. Jungin wastes no time in scurrying over.

The smell of smoke hits her first, and Jungin wishes that weren’t the case because her dear friend is so beautiful aside from her disgusting habit.

“Put that damned thing out Kristy. It is absolutely foul.” Jungin coughs. Kristy looks like she wants to combat the other, but she says nothing and drops the cigarette before crushing it with the toe of her industrial-grade leather combat boots.

“Let’s go inside. The others are waiting.” Kristy says simply in her melodic, soft voice. Jungin nods and the two women saunter inside the warehouse door before shutting and locking it behind them.

23:04

“Let the meeting commence.” Kristy authoritatively states and a hush falls on the women’s lips. They sit in the single darkest room in the warehouse—the cellar. There is a single hanging lightbulb that always sways a bit, throwing the light in all different directions.

“First order of business—wonderful job with the graffiti in front of the Grand Hall. The Snow puppet and her masters seemed outstandingly disturbed by it.” Jungin praised the women in the room.

In all, Mary’s s is made up of only about 11 women. There are certainly more who float in and out, but the devoted women are a smaller bunch.

“What did you tag again?” Kristy inquires to Soojung curiously. The prettiest of the s blushes but smirks victoriously.

“’Your precious Snow is painted with .’ in bold red spray paint.”

“Jesus—” Chaerin breathes.

“It was in epic.” Sooyoung raves. “Made me such a proud older sister that night.”

“Well, I’m proud of you both for executing it so well. We were in the news again, and the more we can spread the word so that other women can start to see the problems in Asiana, the better.”

“Damn you never stop being badass Jungin.”