Jason

Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.

Hermann Hesse, Narcissus and Goldmund (via wordsnquotes)

aramayer‌:

The shop had always been on the street, a beacon of chaos and intrigue for any passer by. Ara would often pass it on his way home, it’s niche allure was a temptress and yet Ara always managed to continue on his way with little thought to what lay behind the old doors. On this day however, Ara hadn’t been able to shake its spell. Taking a detour and stepping through the threshold, he was bewitched by the amount of stand out items that seemed to litter the entirety of the shop. The smooth voice drifting from further within the knick knack shop tore him from his enchanted trance, “I – uh. Honestly everything,” his gaze fell from the different antiques and odd ends to meet the eyes of the shop keeper, “you probably get that a lot,” he flashed a smile, “Just thought I’d stop in. It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.” 

A chuckle fell from the shop owners lips and Silas felt humbled once again. He loved watching eyes light up, followed by ‘oo’ and ‘awe’. That was part of the reason he stayed in this line of work, second to the burning passion he had felt from a young age. “Probably not as often as you would think,” his Greek was noticeably choppy, but far enough along that his accent didn’t disrupt the understanding, “Some are afraid to walk-in without a purpose, not wanting to leave without at least a purchase. Others have a need or desire that they are looking for.” His smile continued, charcoal hues falling on the stranger as they took in every inch of the space, “I appreciate the compliments none-the-less. An artist always strives for that and I know the others whose work is displayed would agree.”

up&up // coldplay

safiyebasak‌:

Most of the time, Safiye procured objects others required. In her time in Corinth Bay, she’d built a network of smugglers and fences and information gatherers–plus one idiot vampire–sand it allowed her to move things in and out of the area with relative ease so long as she knew the channels to get there. This item, however, was a bit more difficult. Most witches didn’t attempt to make them anymore because of the hazard in keeping them stable. It looked to be a simple magnifying glass, but it acted as a focus for spellwork that allowed the caster to amplify their spell without the use of another witch. It was risky and the object itself could potentially backfire, but if used properly and carefully, the results were magnificent. They were rare and expensive, and witches in possession of one were loathe to part with it for obvious reasons. Safiye needed one, which meant she needed to find a witch to relieve of it.

When she saw Silas called, she ignored the voicemail in favor of some bookkeeping, and only later in the evening did she remember to actually check it. Once she heard it, she immediately gathered her purse and a few other items and shot off a few texts to let him know she was on her way. She had to see it to make sure it was real, but Silas was almost never wrong about these things.

The walk to Knick Knack was a quick one, spurred by equal parts of excitement and curiosity. Sure the door was locked considering the early evening hour, Safiye rapped on it and then peered through the window as she tried to catch a glimpse of the man, hoping she hadn’t missed him.

There was always plenty to do at the shop. Custom orders to finish, various research to do, and even items to clean up in the back that would soon find their place on the shelves. That’s why when he hadn’t heard back from the gensai, Silas wasn’t all that concerned. She had work to do just like himself, although he was aware that this item was of extreme importance or it wouldn’t have been such an eager hunt. His hours were never really set in stone given his line of work, so the texts from Safiye were no real surprise. A small light was lit in the front of the store to indicate that someone was still around, but the closed sign remained in place. Once he heard the gentle tapping, feet swiftly moved to the door as he checked to make sure it was the proper client. Unlatching the locks, a heavy security system he had put into place after dealings with unhappy supernatural lead him to a trashed shop, Silas let her in.

“Let’s go to the back,” he stated before the brunette could say anything, locking back up and directing her towards his back room. This was an area that not many actually got to see. Half finished projects littered the room, along with various tools and a cot set up in the corner for when the longer hours left him unable to walk home. He walked up to a desk that was strewn with papers and artists pens, placing his rough hands on the knob of a drawer before sliding it open. The object was wrapped in loose newspaper, removing each layer before handing the magnifying glass to Safiye with a hopeful expression. “Looks to be the real deal. I found a few copy cats, but it was easy to tell by the makers mark that it wasn’t right. What do you think?”

KNICK KNACK NOOK —            A souvenir, home goods, and perfectly curated keepsake shop located near the heart of Corinth Bay. Opened just over two years ago and has now become a staple in the marketplace. Need a new trinket for that shelf? An antique leaf table with claw feet? Knick Knack has got you covered. From custom pieces to up-scaled hand-me-downs, it can be found in the shop. Local artists can also display their work within the shop, just ask the owner! Shop local, support local has always been his motto and enjoys seeing his patrons light up when finding their new favorite product.

ikarosxtheoinos​:

@silaskyun​

The club was alive and Ikaros felt as if he was having an out of body experience, he’d locked eyes with just about everyone on the dance floor. Slowly, the writhing bodies pressed in the club were turning ugly, a fight broke out after a couple of guys started getting into it. Each side imagined slights from the other as Ikaros toyed with the a few auditory and visual hallucinations. A bartender felt someone’s drink hit their face and with a practiced ease, Ikaros triggered a tactile illusion to simulate the cold sting of the ice and whatever else was in the glass. A girl slapped some guy and called over her boyfriend after she swore he’d grabbed her from the back, there was a heated dispute between a group of guys, another individual crying in the corner as everyone teamed up against them. 

Ikaros was having fun. Whatever enjoyable and predictable scene might have typically transpired on a Saturday night was something else entirely. Anarchy. Someone jumped over the bar and started throwing bottles across the room before security was lifting them back over, bodies were hitting the ground, people were weeping and running and laughing and fornicating. It hadn’t taken much, not really. People see what they needed to see and madness could follow. 

The kobalos sat at the bar, inconspicuous and barely noticeable, except perhaps that he was the only person who appeared even remotely sane. He met eyes with some good looking guy who looked terrified, Ikaros hadn’t afflicted him with any illusions but - was he casting some of his own? Ikaros was old, he remembered when the cubi were much more numerous than what numbers remained now. Still handsome, but maybe not as striking as Ikaros had initially thought. “Afraid you’re probably going to have to make your own drink,” the bartender hit the floor and Ikaros tilted his glass towards Silas, “don’t think you’re getting served tonight.”

The only time the incubus really found himself inside a club was when he had pushed himself to the limits of his hunger— starving and looking for easy prey. Random strangers off the street seemed to always lead him into tricky situations and the inebriated ones hardly knew their soul had been tainted. They blamed it on the liquor or whatever drug they had ingested, leaving Silas in the clear. That’s why he hung onto the sidelines more often than not, playing mysterious, just to see if he could lure any of them in without having to try for it. This allowed him to keep an eye on his surroundings, watch the crowd and how they moved. Most importantly, if any of them were actually just wolves in sheep’s clothing.

But this was a whole different sequence entirely. Disorder and havoc had seemed to take over every inch, making it burdensome to pick out his dinner. He watched as an argument over a woman ensued, her drink hitting the floor while the man Silas assumed she was supposedly there with planted a beer bottle on the others head. Next sight was the bartender who seemed to be wrestling with some of his own issues, droplets of liquid still making their way down his face before he suddenly hit the floor.

A petrified look crept onto the cubi’s face before he noticed a man clearly sizing him up. Silas wondered how long he had actually been watching him, realizing then that the stranger was really the only one that appeared to act, well, normal. That sure added to his curiosity, though the scene around him was just as curious. Even the recent festival now seemed utterly tame, along with his years of watching war and rebellion, and his charcoal irises did their best to capture as much as they could. “I’d say,” rapid head nods, followed by him unhesitatingly reaching for the closest bottle of clear liquor to refresh his drink and placing a few dollars in the bartender's tip jar, “Never seen it like this before.” ‘Never seen this ever,’ he thought as he looked back down at the bartender that was now unconscious, “Think he’s alright?”

What are three things necessary to your happiness? Family, honesty and creativity.

cxnnxrmorgan‌:

Connor only ever visited the library when he had absolutely no other choice. It definitely had nothing to do with Gabriel (except that it had everything to do with Gabriel). He often snuck in when he felt like the Cubi wasn’t paying attention, and had nearly successfully avoided him on most occasions. Browsing the stacks now, he ran fingers down the spine of a historical biography, chewing his lower lip. He spoke Greek but reading it was still sometimes a struggle. French had always been his forte. Too bad he couldn’t find a translator patient enough to work through it with him. After some struggle, he finally plucked the right book off the shelf and moved to a different section- crafting- looking for a place to settle on the floor to get to work. He stopped as he rounded the corner to find a face that looked familiar but he couldn’t place- perhaps it was a customer that frequented the shop- “Excuse me, but I’m looking for a bit of help.” He raised the book and wiggled it slightly, “I have trouble reading Greek, are you any good?” ( @silaskyun​ )

What Silas loved about the local library was how large their selection was. Many of the small towns he had found himself in barely had anything at all, not even a government funded one, and there was something about the feeling of a book in his hand that he still couldn’t get over. Their section on woodwork had copies of books that the cubi had never laid eyes on. Such as ‘Tricks of the Trade’ and ‘The House Beautiful’ by Clarence Cook, most of which had been translated into Greek text and was still difficult for him to read. Sure, it gave him the practice he much needed but didn’t exactly help when certain tools didn’t quite fit the translation as he had hoped. Most of the time he would find himself digging out his phone for help from Google to get it into Korean, but it never worked well. Even the English translation came off choppy and tricky to read. So when he heard the man next to him asking for assistance, Silas wasn’t exactly sure he could offer much assistance. He gave the man a meek grimace, but charcoal hues remained kind, “Not sure how much help I would be. Greek is far from my first language, but I could always give it a go.”

beau-zale‌:

“A real professional, huh?” A smirk graced his lips but Beau didn’t take his eyes off the mentioned jewel in the case. He didn’t care so much for authenticity aside from it being something that would last long. Even in his old age he’d never thought to particularly go for something pricey, it was all about the aesthetic. And frankly, he was a sucker for garnets to begin with. Anything deep in color, rubies, moonstone, that kind of thing had always attracted him. The mentioned piece was definitely ticking all of his boxes, there wasn’t much need for this guy to talk it up, he had eyes. But still, he could appreciate an artisan, somebody who knew what they were talking about. Straightening, he crossed his arms over his chest and just looked at the tired looking man. That festival must have really done a number on him, he wasn’t surprised. Everyone seemed a little worse for wear. Which was truly a pity, he was being robbed of so many attractive faces due to lack of sleep.

 Not like that ever really deterred him.

But still.

Supposed he was, though the incubus wasn’t sure if that’s what he would actually call himself. Skilled, maybe. Trained enough to know the difference between a fake and an item that was actually real, letting the word professional hang in the air. Silas almost liked it, only having heard his father’s clients say those kinds of words but never to him. He had always been the apprentice or looked at as a rookie, someone that tried to sell clutter instead of genuine products and worked hard to drive a wedge between that outlook. Instead of boasting, Silas simply shrugged and continued to unlock the case. A click reverberated as the lock came loose and Silas pulled the ring out of the man to examine. It felt as though the two were meant for each other, the same kind of appeal and charm that complimented without seeming gaudy. “Suits you well,” he stated as a fact, a dreamy grin embellishing the dark circles that hung below his charcoal irises as fingertips passed the item over. Noticing the way the man’s eyes lit up as the ring was gently placed onto his finger, the incubus assumed there was no reason to place it back and started to lock up the cabinet again, “As if it was meant to be, so to speak.”

Get to know the people in my muse’s life.

fiery-witch‌:

ofhotheads-blog‌:

Send me a symbol and I’ll tell you about…

🌟 …someone my muse trusts. 💔 …someone who broke my muse’s heart. 💕 …someone my muse loves.  😒 …someone my muse hates. 🔥…someone my muse would die for. 💀 …someone my muse would kill for. 👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend. 💘 …someone my muse has a crush on. 🔪 …someone my muse hurt in the past. 👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust. 💩 …someone my muse dislikes, but admires. 👿 …someone my muse used to like, but doesn’t anymore. 😉 …someone my muse has had sex with. 💋 …someone my muse used to date. 😜 …someone who makes my muse laugh. 👪 …someone in my muse’s family. 👑 …someone my muse is jealous of. 👊 …someone who hates my muse. 👫 …someone who has a crush on my muse. 👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget. 🍓…someone my muse has never met, but wants to meet. 👰 …someone my muse would consider marrying.