✧ - Ana

Steven Yeun by Robyn Von Swank (2014)

This didn’t exist when I was a kid. I didn’t get to see Glenn. I didn’t get to see a fully formed Asian-American person on my television, where you could say, “That dude just belongs here.” Kids, growing up now, can see this show and see a face that they recognize. And go, “Oh my god. That’s my face too.

calidavidalis‌:

“People have no taste.” The witch scoffed, cocking her hip and placing a lithe hand on it. “What’s that saying? Modern art is I could do that plus yeah, but you didn’t. Although in this case, I don’t think anyone should have attempted.” Calida approached the artist of the stand, purchased the art, and then threw it away right in front of her and the other convention goers. “Well, that takes care of that.”

Shock hung on the cubi’s face as he watched her hand over the cash and immediately chuck the artwork into the garbage. Sure— the art was complete trash and Silas couldn’t believe someone was even attempting to sell, but was it really worth the money just to throw it away? He stood in silence as she spoke, face still holding a look of surprise, and choked out, “Sure does.”

hcdsn‌:

Keeping up the facade that he was little more than passionate about history and all that it offered up within it’s grasp had always been far too easy for Hudson. He had the ability to retain far more information than most and whatever necessary education he might have needed to pass it off as simply a hobby to those who knew no better. Those that didn’t see his interest in the old and lackluster as the vying grasp for a power he didn’t have yet. “Nothing yet,” He remarked, meandering his way to the desk Silas sat behind, just as he had time and time again. “Anything caught yours?” Or, more to the point, had any thought been considered to Hudson when he’d seen something that might likely belong in a museum rather than his store. “Just wondering if you’ve seen anything come through.. maybe heard about something you don’t have, that I might be a interested in?” Far too often, people held onto things far more valuable than they ever considered them to be; merely for the fact they’d looked so dull, shattered and broken.

This question was typical, even if that exact phrase hadn’t always left Hudson’s mouth. Customers often came in looking for any kind of connection, especially rare pieces. Estate sales of wealthy philanthropists whose kids had no love for the antique style and would rather see money in their pockets were prime locations. Luckier even if the family didn’t realize they have items of magical value. That’s where Silas came in. He would try to bid for objects before the public eye got the chance and in turn, sell them or upscale them for his shop. The real issue was pinning down what his customer was looking for and with the current being so vague, it was hard for Silas to understand what exact direction he should take this. “A few things have,” he started, leaning lightly on his chevron wood counter top, “Three estate sales up north and one in Bulgaria. All seem to be promising depending on what you might be looking for.” He reached for his phone, placing it on the counter to ready himself for examples.

opheliancano​:

Ophelia watches in amusement as the incubus tries, and fails, to hit his target. She wonders if it was on purpose, if maybe he finds more value in hiding his strengths than showing them off; a move to make her underestimate him. Or maybe she’s making chess out of checkers, and he just truly has bad aim. Still, she finds it better to be overly cautious than overly trusting, especially when dealing with a creature whose true nature remains unknown to her. Everything he shows her could just be a precalculated move. “I think you sell yourself short too much. I’m certain there’s a game around here somewhere in which you would excel.” She grins as she speaks, and picks up the next dart from the counter, before taking her aim and letting it soar with a flick of her wrist. Not a bullseye, but close, only off from the red center by an inch or so. Let him make of that what he will, she thinks, as she turns back to face Silas. “I believe this means I’ve won this time. Unless you’d like to go best out of three.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he states, even if his more pacifist nature showed no real desire to continue playing any of the games. None of them were his speed, but the incubus’s curiosity for Ophelia outweighed the inclination to find something else to do with his time. Not to mention Silas didn’t know what else he would fill his time with anyway. Maybe find Rimona again, see what trouble she may have found while he was away, but his feet stayed planted in the dirt. “There’s got to be something else we can try out,” charcoal irises scanning the location they were in as if there would be much more than this. After all, it was Pride and carnival games weren’t as prominent. “That booth looks like it might have a kind of game, maybe trivia?” he peered around the crowds of people that started to gather, “Want to go check it out?”

lenavidalis​:

Selling jewelry had never been Lena’s original intent when she started to make things as a child. It was a way to hone her metal manipulation abilities without drawing too much attention to herself, and making tiny, intricate pieces of jewelry served well as lessons in control. The keen edge of a sword was easy enough to accomplish, but focusing and moving metal in her hand to form thread-fine filigree required the utmost of skill. She and Silas came to a mutual agreement that she could sell a few pieces at his shop, and Lena was delighted by the prospect.

Throughout the past few weeks, she’d seen a decline in the man’s demeanor, dipping from his usual cheerful ease to someone weighed down by something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it most clearly manifested as exhaustion. She couldn’t help but worry about him, particularly when in his presence, and she very nearly asked about him instead of answering the question at hand. “I um… yes, that sounds really good,” she said, flashing him a brief, bright smile before her attention turned to the contents of her purse. She pulled a thick velvet bag from it and pulled at the drawstring, then carefully dumped a handful of rings and one necklace into her hand. “I think window light will be really good for them,” she added as she grabbed the pendant of the necklace, which was a piece of solid metal shaped into a paper crane. The crisp lines and perfect, flat planes caught the light even though she didn’t stand under a direct light, a testament to her ability. For a moment, silence lingered and Lena worried her lip, then finally heaved a heavy sigh and shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Are you okay? You seem. You’ve seemed different. Are you sure it’s okay I’m here right now? I can definitely come back.”

The usual excitement for doing business with a local artist was still there, even if the fatigue was present in some of his expressions and he did his best to shroud it in smiles. Lena was a regular around the shop, even without her pieces being present within, and the guilt of worrying anyone about his scale relations was not something the incubus really wished to discuss. Not that he was particularly ashamed of the whole ordeal taking him over, just that he desperately wanted to move on and not dwell too much on his past mishaps. It kept him from healing and Silas needed every bit of it he could muster up at this point. But the care in her voice and concern that hung onto her expression stopped him from ignoring the questions. He had been reminded that friends were important after keeping the curse’s stronghold away from even Gabriel’s knowledge and it was foolish to push people away that just wanted to help. Don’t run, embrace.

“Just been under the weather,” he stated, charcoal hues meeting the witches before looking back down at her handcrafted jewelry with admiration, “I had to close the shop up for about a week just to get some rest, but I’m starting to recover. The worst is over now. Just uh— just been needing a lot more sleep than I anticipated, but don’t worry. Having the shop open for a little while is helping get me back on a schedule.” So maybe keeping some things from Lena about the scale wasn’t all that bad, though he was being truthful about being unwell for a time. “No need to come back,” he added to give her verification and hopefully ease the worry of needing to leave, “I was rather looking forward to seeing and hearing about what you have been up to.”

ianthe-moreau‌:

WHO - OPEN

WHERE - Any local bar/club

WHEN - 2/28/2020

@corinthbaystarters​

Holding her fingers up towards the sky, Ianthe appeared to be attempting to push the moon closer to Venus, squinting her eyes. Ianthe tilted her head back, blowing a billowy halo of smoke above head, “Venus and the moon are kissing.” Ianthe spoke to the space around her, to the walls with ears and the shadows who took solace in the dimly glowing ally that she had. “Smoke?” She asked before her death Ianthe would have never picked up a cigarette, but now- it seemed trivial- it wouldn’t be what killed her anyway.

“Aphrodite and Selene, correct?” Silas asked, only having come more into contact with the Greek gods as he had moved closer to the Mediterranean area. Some of it was still new to him and he hid that fact, only what he actually was. He nodded at the offer, “Yes, thank you.” His voice soft— warm even as he took the cigarette from her hand and lit it. Silence settling over them as they each looked up at the night sky, both clearly in their own mindscape.

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.

Do you like what you are?

Silas: Like is a very strong word. Accepted is probably the more accurate way of saying it and I don’t think I would go as far as saying I hate what I am either. I have become something for a reason, even if it was completely out of ignorance and eventually I will understand the depth of it all. 

☎

NAME: Troubriel 🦖

RINGTONE: default

PICTURE: cheers!

LAST TEXT RECEIVED: That wasn’t so bad now was it?

LAST TEXT SENT: Still baffles me, but at least this prank didn’t involve accidental bodily harm.