lightning hides the colour of night

Sungjong always hated storms.

As a child, the sound of thunder reminded him of unseen things; of monsters under his bed and demons in his closet. Flashes of lightning invited unwanted shadows that would chase him out of his room and straight into the arms of his mother, dismaying his father and providing extra weight to a mattress fit for only two.

Growing up as a sibling to none and a friend to himself, it was natural for Sungjong to be both curious and cautious all at the same time. Like a mouse, his father would say, always getting into things and scaring yourself; and while bravery was never his strongest suit, Oh Sungjong certainly had enough tenacity to make up for it.

↱ He’s ten when he skips a grade, classroom pace moving too slow for his liking that teachers found him more of a burden to keep rather than to praise. Sungjong, can’t you just pretend to not know the answer so I can actually teach it?

He graduates high school a couple weeks before his seventeenth birthday, at the top of his class with an early acceptance into Yonsei University. The remaining seniors aren’t so thrilled about his accomplishments and he’s last seen on campus nursing a black eye and rolling out of a trashcan. Respect your elders, Sungjong.

He’s nineteen when he has his first mental breakdown, a junior in University with absolutely no idea what he wants to do with his life. He’s on track to graduate by the time he’s twenty-one, in the top ten of his department with job offers from companies flowing left and right. But he’s afraid, you see? Because Oh Sungjong, even at age nineteen, still hasn’t grown out of the idea that he’s just not ready to face the world on his own. Not when he still cowers alone in his dorm room when it gets too dark or when the thunder booms outside his window and reminds him that demons in the closet are less scary than the society that waits. Sungjong, don’t you feel like maybe you’re being a little too dramatic about this? You get your overthinking from your mother.

He graduates his undergraduate program in Economics a little ahead of schedule and stalls on accepting any career opportunities much to his family’s displeasure. I want to study more is what he said, but I’m greatly irresponsible with my own well-being that I’m really not positive I’m able to handle any company’s expectations right now is what he really meant. He enrolls into Yonsei’s Graduate Program of International Studies a year later. ↲

If there’s anything that Sungjong’s proud of in the entirety of his life, it’s that he’s the youngest UTA to teach at Yonsei. He blends in with his students, small and timid at first but bright and content to lecture younger students such as himself. He blossoms in his classrooms, forming healthier bonds with others as opposed to stress-induced competitions. It’s only when he’s twenty-two that he realizes that teaching is what he should be doing, that being legs crossed elementary school style on his desk whilst immersing in discussions ranging from academic to what’re you doing this weekend, ssaem? is where he can see himself growing; where he can see himself taking charge. Sungjong intends to enroll into the Ph.D program after his thesis and from there, wants to get his teaching credential in order to teach lower division economics.

Life looks up upon this realization and he’s happy.

For a short while.

It happened when he least expected it to, but he supposes he can’t say that for sure. After all, life has a way of screwing you over when you’re finding your path and montages of butterflies and rainbows get cut short. A thunderstorm had angrily made its presence in Seoul some week in July when he’s twenty-three, the monsoon season coming in like a wrecking ball and ruining streets just as it ruined summer plans.

Sungjong had initially wanted to stay in that Sunday, wanted to catch up on his favorite anime series and play his new DS game to completion. Instead, his mother had called and asked if he could run an errand for her (your auntie is ill, please bring her the soup I ordered from Mrs. Kim). It’s difficult to say no to mothers, you see? Especially when she was the one to protect you all throughout your childhood, and Sungjong’s really no exception to being a fool for his #1. So he went, not expecting much but wet shoes and an aunt with too much phlegm.

↱ His car stalls just on the outskirts of Seoul, secluded in an area with not much on the road but old run-down houses a couple miles north. It terrifies him, the sense of dread of sitting in a car in the middle of a storm. He only wanted to do the right thing, to take care of his family because his mother had asked but he supposes good karma only comes to those who deserve it and he’s certain he must’ve been a terrible person in his past life. With no help coming, Sungjong goes against his better judgement and gets out of the car to check the damage under the hood. It was a careless mistake, one where most would say: you don’t go out in the middle of a storm like that???, but the odds of getting struck by lightning is 1 in 12,000. He just hadn’t figured he’d win the lottery that day.

It hits him like something he’s never felt before, like a million wasps puncturing him from the inside out. He feels everything and nothing for that quick moment, his insides burning and melting with a kind of fire he’s unfamiliar with. There isn’t time to scream, no time to panic – just time moving painfully slow as he falls to the ground numb and convulsing. It wasn’t something he was aware of at the time, but the lightning that struck him skittered his heart to a stop just a couple of seconds after. Pitch black and in the middle of the road, Oh Sungjong was dead on the ground without saying his goodbyes at age twenty-three. ↲

It may have been a miracle, but Sungjong wakes up surrounded by his mother and father in the hospital a week later. He’s covered in burns down his back and partial front, spine bruised from the direct impact that leaves him almost breathless from pain; his hair now illuminates white strands as opposed to black and there’s something different about his eyes. His mother tells him that a car had passed him on the road just minutes after he was struck. The driver, an older man, had taken it out of his own well-being to get his pulse going again before emergency services rushed to transfer him to a hospital.

Despite the fact that he survived his encounter with nature, what’s strange about it is that aside from the physical changes to his flesh and hair – Oh Sungjong’s internal system is completely unharmed. It’s explained to him that normally those struck by lightning experience side effects with their internal organs, especially if one were struck so severe that their heart had stopped. However, his test result came back only to say that Oh Sungjong’s heart is not only functional, but is beating stronger than it ever has before.

He doesn’t question it, not when he looks down at his hands and believes to see sparks running from his fingertips. No one believes him when he points it out because your eyes are still adjusting, but you should be fine in a couple of days.

He isn’t fine in a couple of days.

Instead, he suffers from mood swings and insomnia that keeps him up until dawn. He breaks things without knowing it, lightbulbs shattering and electrical units shortcircuiting. The amount of stress and exhaustion eventually take its toll on him and soon, he screams into his pillow one night and causes a blackout to the entire block.

He knows something is wrong with him. He knows it isn't normal to be able to control those shadows he sees at night or to wake up with electricity in his veins and static in his hair. But his father tells him it's just side-effects and he's tired of hearing blunt excuses as a way to not deal with him; to not notice him.

So Oh Sungjong runs away to find help; to find someone who would notice him. He runs as far as his money will take him, leaving unintentional breadcrumbs of burned out street lamps and dark clouds. He doesn't remember how he got there, but he does - a facility in Pyeongchang dedicated to helping and housing lost wanderers such as himself. It's certainly not home, but he makes it his home. At least for now, he doesn't have to worry so much about lightning coming to get him.

Sungjong always hated storms.

He just never knew he'd become one.

birthname oh., sungjong birthday + age march 04, 1992 + 29 (year 2021) residence seoul, south korea occupation professor; author and illustrator. abilities storm embodiment ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ©
	Sungjong always hated storms. As a child, the sound of thunder reminded him of unseen things; of monsters under his bed and demons in his closet. Flashes of lightning invited unwanted shadows that would chase him out of his room and straight into the arms of his mother, dismaying his father and providing extra weight to a mattress fit for only two. Growing up as a sibling to none and a friend to himself, it was natural for Sungjong to be both curious and cautious all at the same time. Like a mouse, his father would say, always getting into things and scaring yourself; and while bravery was never his strongest suit, Oh Sungjong certainly had enough tenacity to make up for it. ↱ He’s ten when he skips a grade, classroom pace moving too slow for his liking that teachers found him more of a burden to keep rather than to praise. Sungjong, can’t you just pretend to not know the answer so I can actually teach it? He graduates high school a couple weeks before his seventeenth birthday, at the top of his class with an early acceptance into Yonsei University. The remaining seniors aren’t so thrilled about his accomplishments and he’s last seen on campus nursing a black eye and rolling out of a trashcan. Respect your elders, Sungjong. He’s nineteen when he has his first mental breakdown, a junior in University with absolutely no idea what he wants to do with his life. He’s on track to graduate by the time he’s twenty-one, in the top ten of his department with job offers from companies flowing left and right. But he’s afraid, you see? Because Oh Sungjong, even at age nineteen, still hasn’t grown out of the idea that he’s just not ready to face the world on his own. Not when he still cowers alone in his dorm room when it gets too dark or when the thunder booms outside his window and reminds him that demons in the closet are less scary than the society that waits. Sungjong, don’t you feel like maybe you’re being a little too dramatic about this? You get your overthinking from your mother. He graduates his undergraduate program in Economics a little ahead of schedule and stalls on accepting any career opportunities much to his family’s displeasure. I want to study more is what he said, but I’m greatly irresponsible with my own well-being that I’m really not positive I’m able to handle any company’s expectations right now is what he really meant. He enrolls into Yonsei’s Graduate Program of International Studies a year later. ↲ If there’s anything that Sungjong’s proud of in the entirety of his life, it’s that he’s the youngest UTA to teach at Yonsei. He blends in with his students, small and timid at first but bright and content to lecture younger students such as himself. He blossoms in his classrooms, forming healthier bonds with others as opposed to stress-induced competitions. It’s only when he’s twenty-two that he realizes that teaching is what he should be doing, that being legs crossed elementary school style on his desk whilst immersing in discussions ranging from academic to what’re you doing this weekend, ssaem? is where he can see himself growing; where he can see himself taking charge. Sungjong intends to enroll into the Ph.D program after his thesis and from there, wants to get his teaching credential in order to teach lower division economics. Life looks up upon this realization and he’s happy. For a short while. It happened when he least expected it to, but he supposes he can’t say that for sure. After all, life has a way of screwing you over when you’re finding your path and montages of butterflies and rainbows get cut short. A thunderstorm had angrily made its presence in Seoul some week in July when he’s twenty-three, the monsoon season coming in like a wrecking ball and ruining streets just as it ruined summer plans. Sungjong had initially wanted to stay in that Sunday, wanted to catch up on his favorite anime series and play his new DS game to completion. Instead, his mother had called and asked if he could run an errand for her (your auntie is ill, please bring her the soup I ordered from Mrs. Kim). It’s difficult to say no to mothers, you see? Especially when she was the one to protect you all throughout your childhood, and Sungjong’s really no exception to being a fool for his #1. So he went, not expecting much but wet shoes and an aunt with too much phlegm. ↱ His car stalls just on the outskirts of Seoul, secluded in an area with not much on the road but old run-down houses a couple miles north. It terrifies him, the sense of dread of sitting in a car in the middle of a storm. He only wanted to do the right thing, to take care of his family because his mother had asked but he supposes good karma only comes to those who deserve it and he’s certain he must’ve been a terrible person in his past life. With no help coming, Sungjong goes against his better judgement and gets out of the car to check the damage under the hood. It was a careless mistake, one where most would say: you don’t go out in the middle of a storm like that???, but the odds of getting struck by lightning is 1 in 12,000. He just hadn’t figured he’d win the lottery that day. It hits him like something he’s never felt before, like a million wasps puncturing him from the inside out. He feels everything and nothing for that quick moment, his insides burning and melting with a kind of fire he’s unfamiliar with. There isn’t time to scream, no time to panic – just time moving painfully slow as he falls to the ground numb and convulsing. It wasn’t something he was aware of at the time, but the lightning that struck him skittered his heart to a stop just a couple of seconds after. Pitch black and in the middle of the road, Oh Sungjong was dead on the ground without saying his goodbyes at age twenty-three. ↲ It may have been a miracle, but Sungjong wakes up surrounded by his mother and father in the hospital a week later. He’s covered in burns down his back and partial front, spine bruised from the direct impact that leaves him almost breathless from pain; his hair now illuminates white strands as opposed to black and there’s something different about his eyes. His mother tells him that a car had passed him on the road just minutes after he was struck. The driver, an older man, had taken it out of his own well-being to get his pulse going again before emergency services rushed to transfer him to a hospital. Despite the fact that he survived his encounter with nature, what’s strange about it is that aside from the physical changes to his flesh and hair – Oh Sungjong’s internal system is completely unharmed. It’s explained to him that normally those struck by lightning experience side effects with their internal organs, especially if one were struck so severe that their heart had stopped. However, his test result came back only to say that Oh Sungjong’s heart is not only functional, but is beating stronger than it ever has before. He doesn’t question it, not when he looks down at his hands and believes to see sparks running from his fingertips. No one believes him when he points it out because your eyes are still adjusting, but you should be fine in a couple of days. He isn’t fine in a couple of days. Instead, he suffers from mood swings and insomnia that keeps him up until dawn. He breaks things without knowing it, lightbulbs shattering and electrical units shortcircuiting. The amount of stress and exhaustion eventually take its toll on him and soon, he screams into his pillow one night and causes a blackout to the entire block. He knows something is wrong with him. He knows it isn't normal to be able to control those shadows he sees at night or to wake up with electricity in his veins and static in his hair. But his father tells him it's just side-effects and he's tired of hearing blunt excuses as a way to not deal with him; to not notice him. So Oh Sungjong runs away to find help; to find someone who would notice him. He runs as far as his money will take him, leaving unintentional breadcrumbs of burned out street lamps and dark clouds. He doesn't remember how he got there, but he does - a facility in Pyeongchang dedicated to helping and housing lost wanderers such as himself. It's certainly not home, but he makes it his home. At least for now, he doesn't have to worry so much about lightning coming to get him. Sungjong always hated storms. He just never knew he'd become one. factoids. one Sungjong's ability in its entirety is storm embodiment; meaning he has the ability to embody a storm at his most powerful. This includes controlling and conjuring all aspects of a thunderstorm. However, as of present - it is only known that he has the ability to control electricity, clouds, and shadows. The first of which is currently the most powerful. Therefore, he currently classifies himself as a user of electrokinesis. two Due to his instability, there are times when Sungjong miscalculates the use of his electrokinesis. This includes waking up with static in his hair and emitting electrical pulses from his body that needs to be cancelled out, unable to prevent minor shocks upon touch, and occassionally breaking or shortcircuiting electrical units. three Since the incident, Sungjong's appearance has changed drastically. His hair upon impact colorized to a platinum blond (almost white) and his eyes light up depending on his mood; grey for content, honey yellow for happy, black for any negative emotion. There are times where others have stated to see lightning in his eyes when he's at his most discontent, but he doesn't classify this as a "color". In addition, he has white scars in the shape of lightning running down his back and his partial front. Due to this, he tries to wear as much layers and/or oversized clothing as possible in an effort to hide them. four He is currently still pursuing his Masters degree. However, due to the accident and having run away from the city - he was placed on leave for a year. He's recently just returned to school in hopes of finishing his thesis by next term. While he continues his education, he's also picked up part-time work as a mixologist at the nearest ski resort. It's nothing fancy, but it helps that his environment is dim so he doesn't have to worry too much about shortcircuiting anything. five He still suffers from insomnia and random mood swings. He can only apologize for this. storylines.