Do You Like What You Are?

❛  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.

@silaskyun​ happy birthday loveeeeee 

Same set up, different event. That didn’t mean the thrill of it all wasn’t plastered on Silas’s face. He loved shifting between bodies in the crowd, snapping photographs or jotting down highlights of moments as the incubus observed others having the time of their lives. This was normal, keeping tabs on history as it happened before his eyes. Being present without being openly involved, the only way Silas really knew how to exist. Long before the change he did much of the same, weaving in and out of sight during times of war in order to document the terrors he was seeing. While this was more of a celebration, it was forever going to be a habit and the repetitiveness of it never bothered him. “Do you mind?” he asked sincerely as he approached a man sporting a devious grin, displaying his camera to see if he was alright with being photographed. It was better to ask then find himself getting scrutinized like some had tried in the past, “You just seem to really be enjoying yourself.”

@reapersoriano​

💐 from @franciscoamore​ give a gift During the days that the cubi was still living in Korea, every inch of his human-ness still intact, Silas had grown used to getting various gifts from friends to help supply the family shop. Not all was a gift. Some being a this for that, but often they would find something that caught their eye and reminded them of the Kyun’s. That dwindled down over the years as close ties became more rare and interactions depended on the type of supernatural being. It felt more dangerous than ever to have too many connections, especially with what he was and always did his best to keep his personal life to himself. Not that Silas was anti-social by any means, just able to carry on conversations without letting too much slip out. “How did you manage to snag this?” the cubi stated, excitement fluttering in the shadows of his voice. For most it was just a decorated tea bowl, but for Silas this was a connection to his home and the dynasty that his family used to serve. Fingers grazed the rim before picking it up completely, flipping it over to reveal the signature of his great-grandfather, “Thank you again, this is really special.”

🌟👀👑

🌟 …someone my muse trusts.

    “Ri has my whole trust forever.”

👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust.

    “Safiye, especially with her recent help though I’m sure if she could find a way to curse me she would.” @safiyebasak

👑 …someone my muse is jealous of.

    “Fran for being just so confidently himself as a cubi.” @franciscoamore

melissacoopers‌:

The walk from the Garden to Knick Knack was a familiar one, usually made monthly by a restless woman, looking to once again rearrange the things in her shop like it meant anything. It was something to keep her hands busy and her mind clear, at least. 

What had caught her eye was a charcoal figure of a woman, faceless, with flowers at her feet. Melissa was drawn to figures of women, something she was sure Silas had picked up at this point. “Just the usual, apparently, Silas,” she called to him, looking over her shoulder at the familiar face. There was something about the quiet of the shop and of Silas that helped calm her normally buzzing mind. “Time to redecorate again. Things have been getting dull. How have you been here? I still offer my services to help you rearrange too if you like.” Really, she just wanted to poke around his things even more than she did as a customer. Silas felt a bit like a puzzle to her sometimes.

More often than not, Silas was one to refuse help when it came to such minimal things as his shop. He knew that it could use a more delicate touch, a fresh mind that hadn’t had to do the daily things that a shop like this required, but the cubi still refused. Melissa had become more than just a regular to him, but someone he actually enjoyed as far as company goes. She never seemed to pry for more information and was just generally curious about the life of each trinket before reaching its spot on the shelf. Maybe that was part of the reason Silas still refused. He hardly wanted to slip up on what he truly was, but a different feeling struck him. The feeling of being rude, the thought that it might be even stranger not to allow a kind offer. Especially when it had been given half a dozen times. “Things have been pleasant,” he answered casually, “Weather has been fairly forgiving during my hunts and I couldn’t really ask for more.” For a moment he skirted around the topic of rearranging, trying to find the right words to accept her offer without sounding at least a little desperate. “I can smell spring, which I assume is the direct cause of your own refresh? I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have a little help with my own.”

kieratandanu‌:

     “Well,” Kiera said slowly as she put both of the masks back down on the counter to look at them. Folding her arms over her chest, she pursed her lips, trying to find the best words to describe her aunt. “She’s… very warm and loving as a person. She enjoys nature and good weather, and tea. She likes to dance, too. And she’s a horrible cook,” she joked, tilting her head to the side as she looked back down at the masks. “Does that help?”

“I would go with the blue tinted one then,” he replied, an absolution in his voice that wasn’t present before. He liked to pride himself on knowing his clients and having a feeling about what items belonged with whom. It was something that he had practiced over the years, especially when his father had been training him. “It seems as though it might not be something she would normally pick out for herself, what do you think?”

petravidalis‌:

Permanence wasn’t something Petra was used to. So, whenever she set out to find things to decorate her apartment with, she almost always did a one-eighty and left. Buying something meant she was actually looking at her apartment as a place she could call home, and that terrified her. The voice had drawn her away from a path down memory lane and Petra’s attention was on the other for a few heartbeats, looking him over. She wasn’t distrustful of the owner of the simple shop, but she also knew in a place like Corinth Bay, there was always more than meets the eye. “Several things,” Petra replied, short and less than sweet —- her usual tone. “Do you have anything built with minerals, any crystals?” That was her element, the constant she liked to surround herself with. “Good for decoration?”

A gentle nod came from the cubi as he moved closer to the counter top, hand signaling towards the front of his shop, “We have a few small pieces on that shelf there.” An honest phrase as the shelf really only offered trinkets; boxes with crystals as handles, agate replacement door knobs, geodes as cup holders, and various carved statues. But she had said several things, which mean she could be the right owner for— “ Unless you are looking for something a bit larger than that.” His smile continued as he walked around the counter, still keeping his distance to respect his customers space, “I’ve got a few slab style that could be wall mounted or rested.” However, Silas didn’t feel as though she was the type to desire something as generic as that. Even as a human it was easy for him to sense auras and pair objects with people. It was practically in his dna. Which left him with one last option and a long silent pause hung in between them, “It does still need some work, but could be a really nice table if you want to see it.”

opheliancano​:

This is new ground Ophelia finds herself on. She knows more of cubi by reputation and what the furies taught her than personal history, and Silas is nothing like she had been expecting. Perhaps that is why she finds him so fascinating. Green eyes watch for him, from behind the counter of the tea shop, where he had been a frequent patron before the pride festival. Perhaps she’s scared him off? Regrettable, to be sure, though she suspects not many of his species would willingly choose to spend time around her; that had been another point of her curiosity, how he never seemed to be particularly afraid, or even worried in her presence. Ophelia has just about written him off as a willing participant to their game, much to her disappointment, when she finally spies him reenter AnxieTea — and the smile that graces her face is not false, for once. Their song and dance is not quite finished. Good. Once she is certain to not leave her coworker swamped with customers, she steps out to take her break, making a beeline for Silas. “Rather well, I think. So many interesting things to see, and people to meet. I don’t think I’ll be bored.” The double entendre is there, clear as day for anyone who has the appropriate context. And then, because Ophelia has always been bold, she adds, “you were gone for quite awhile. I wondered if I’d seen the last of you.” 

A hardened swallow after a long drink from his tea, processing her words as they lingered in the space surrounding them and made a point to not allow his feelings to surface. The feelings of intrigue and wonderment on how she could have plucked the question from his brain— how she might have actually been concerned for him in some way. Not that an individual being endearing towards the incubus was foreign, his natural magnetism making it fairly simple in most settings, but that was obsolete here. With Ophelia, it was all genuine and that in itself was enough to shake up his perspective. “Hardly,” he finally mustered up in response, a light grin emerging as the tea cup found its place on the coaster in front of them, “Best tea blends in town, if you ask me.” Though they both knew that wasn’t the only reason Silas found himself roaming to its doors, even if his guts refused for him to admit that detail out-loud and tried to keep the subject on her versus himself, “I’m sure not. There always seems to be something exhilarating happening, especially in this town. I’m sure it will be quite effortless for you to find and keep your foothold.” Which was true, her aura calling attention to its daring and valorous nature.

Several days had gone by with the curse lifted, but Silas was still showing hints of fatigue. Nightmares had dissipated into solid REM sleep, though the incubus’s body had yet to fully recover. He kept the shop closed for those days, placing a sign for anyone that came by that read “temporarily closed due to illness”, and stayed huddled up in his loft just above. Guilt swiftly crawled into the sheets as he slumbered. The scale had plagued him, changed his core moral compass to something the cubi had never expected nor fully realized. Not until Safiye had ripped it from his grasp to pulverize it, bits of jade and emerald dust fading into nothingness. When he woke, all Silas could think about was his fellow incubus and the way he had treated someone he considered a close friend. Lies and for what reason? An object and a false sense of doing a good deed? Hardly the path the Kyun was known to walk and it showed in the way Gabriel believed him.

The smell of books permeated his nose as the cubi slunk into the library, peeking around each corner in hopes to find the fellow cubi working his usual shift. A text was too impersonal for an apology, charcoal hues bouncing around the room until chocolate locks were seen and Silas made his way over. “Hey—” his usual warm grin and eyes that actually looked as though there was life behind them, “Got a break soon?”

@gabrielxnikephoros​