writetomyheart | [team two] this place is our universe

alternate dimensions/powers au: in nyc, san has visions of an alternate dimension, yunho can travel between dimensions, and an apartment of four becomes an apartment of eight.

Last word is air.

sidleypkhermit, you're next!

Back straight, deep breath, feel the pads of your fingers, count to ten, wiggle your toes. San has perfected his grounding exercises to make sure he stays within his body during a vision. The visions are usually inane and a brief window: a couple crossing the street, a dog playing in a park, school getting out for the day, friends playing around in a convenience store. It’s a world that looks very similar to his, except just slightly askew. Radio City Theater, Gyeongbokgung Palace had a very distinctive architectural difference he’d never been able to describe, and he swore he heard someone referencing Big Ben as The Great Bell, but he lost their voice as they moved away. He could be anywhere in the world, at any time, for any amount of time. He refused to drive because of this, but since he was in New York, it hardly made any sense to drive, anyways. He could always learn in his thirties, if the visions ever went away.

This vision was more detailed than any had ever been before. It was an apartment very similar to his own. Eerily similar, actually. A boy with dark hair, bent over a keyboard, playing a video game. His age, maybe? “Hey!” A disembodied voice calls from somewhere. “Someone left the kitchen a mess!”
Someone sneaks into the room behind the boy, with ashy grey hair, streaked with black. “I’m scared to tell him it was Jongho.” The dark haired boy pauses the game, and turns back, smiling a giant, beautiful smile. “I’m pretty sure Jongho can hold his own, Mingi.”
Mingi nods, putting on a face. “Yeah, I know. Seonghwa’s the one I’m worried about.”
The boy laughs, turning back to his game. “Let me know if you need me to break up a brawl.”
Mingi rolls his eyes. “Once Jongho is involved, there’s no turning back.”
The same voice fills the background. San feels that the vision is fading. He doesn’t want it to. He tries to hold onto it, vainly. He feels a sort of tug towards the only unnamed boy. His eyes are clouding over when he hears someone shout, “Emergency apartment meeting! Now!” The boy pauses his game and before San’s vision goes fully white, he sees the boy stand, wrapping an arm around Mingi, walking out of the room, and like a tension rope, his vision goes slack.

He hears a sharp noise, something like a bang, a muted explosion, a loud popping thump. He thinks he’s still in the vision (Seonghwa exerting some apartment justice?) when he hears Wooyoung’s voice go high. “Uh, what the fuck?”
San scrambles off his bed, and walks out to the kitchen, where the four from his vision stand. Well, the blonde one who he’s guessing is either Seonghwa or Jongho is now on the floor. But they’re all present, in a world that he has on very good authority is not their own.
His own roommates have now flooded into the kitchen and everything has become a bit complicated.

Where four was complicated in this tiny apartment, eight is a very different story. Yeosang looks around at everyone, then zeroes in on San. “Is this—do you know them?”
San’s eyes go wide. “Why do you assume I know them?”
Yeosang vaguely gestures to their alternate dimension guests. “Well, do you?”
San cocks his head to the side. “Yes, I saw them in my vision. But I’ve never been able to see people in my visions in real life!”
Mingi covers his fully clothed chest. “Oh god, was I decent?” The shorter one with dark hair rolls his eyes.
Hongjoong finally enters the conversation, cocking his head. “Okay, let’s all sit. Let’s relax.”

He has his hands out like he’s negotiating a bomb threat, and not four strange dudes that are currently just as scared as everyone else in the room. Everyone sits where they are on the hardwood floors, but no one speaks.
“I’ll go first,” the tall one says. “I’m Yunho, and I’m here because of him.” He points a finger at San. It oddly doesn’t even feel accusatory, though San still feels a weird amount of hot shame. His cheeks are red and he sits on his hands. “I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s a pull between us, some sort of connection.”

Again, the room goes fully silent. San knows Wooyoung must be working his emotional control power on extra strength for everyone not to be going fully apeshit. “Woo, you’re overdoing it. We don’t need to be catatonic.”
Wooyoung shrugs and crosses his legs. Again, silence.
The blonde one looks around at everyone. “W-well, my name is Seonghwa. Should I make some tea?”
Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows. “This isn’t even your apartment.”
Seonghwa shrugs. “Tea always makes me feel better. Doesn’t anyone want tea?”
Seven hands shoot straight into the air.