MYO-7629: ✦ Kodiak

"For the last time, Hops, I don't need your help on every little detail for these. It’s just pouring shit into different glasses, it ain’t that hard." Kodiak's shoulders tensed as he gripped the edge of the kitchen island, his knuckles white against the polished stone. "Look, if you're gonna insist on teaching me, at least stop bouncing around like some overexcited puppy. It's giving me a headache." Hops bobbed on her toes, the bright pink bow tie of her uniform swaying against her...

As the winter evening air grew thick with the scent of alcohol and red bean paste, Kodiak found himself increasingly aware of his self-imposed isolation. The cheerful chaos of the festival raging nearby seemed to press in on him from all sides, a stark contrast to his carefully maintained bubble of discontent. Each burst of laughter and excited squeal felt like a personal affront to his cultivated persona, wincing away from the crowds of sparkling blue lights scattered throughout the park....

Kodiak stood in his small apartment kitchen, his perpetual scowl deepening as he stared at the bowl of sticky rice flour in front of him. He hadn't wanted to participate in any cooking related activities in the first place, but with the mochi moon celebrations fast approaching, and no time of her own to be able to make any to enjoy on the night, Hops had practically begged him with those (annoyingly) earnest eyes of hers. Not that it could be helped. Her never-ending string of debt to the cas...

While most traditional holidays were not something that he found himself particularly fond of participating in, one thing that Kodiak could get behind was the drinking associated with the celebrations of mochi moon. You would never catch him refusing free alcohol, and if you did… well, then that simply wasn’t him any longer. He paired with the stuff like gasoline to a flame— property damage and physical harm notwithstanding. That was how he found himself wading knee-deep through ...

The streets had always been like a second home to Kodiak. As unwelcoming as they were to most-- it was exactly how he liked it. Some would even say that he preferred to keep it that way. The sidewalks lay mostly dead at this time of night-- the club-goers had stumbled off home to god knows where after their fun, leaving the city’s scum to stir and prowl the streets undisturbed. Fliers, promotional ads, and all manner of other posters cluttered the nearby telephone poles and st...

Kodiak stood awkwardly on the frosted over doorstep of the apartment before him, his leather jacket creaking in protest as he shifted from foot to foot to stay warm. The carol sheet he’d been presented with felt foreign in his hands, and might as well have been written in an ancient demonic tongue, with the look of distain he seemed to be giving it. "Come on, shithead, you promised," whispered Jackal, his longtime friend— if they could call each other that —elbowing him in...