Lenavidalis​:

antoniagrcgor‌:

She looked over the prints that Silas held. Her gaze focused intensely on the image to try and ignore her father’s eidolon standing behind her. He spoke in rapid German like Eden’s snake. She shook her blonde head + swallowed. “Sehr schön.” Very beautiful. She looked up and made eye contact with the eidolon. Her eyes darted back to Silas. “My uncle’s place hs very bare walls. How much for the lot?” A shakey smile cracked on her pale lips. She left the house today in such a hurry she forgot the paint her lips with her signature color, crimson red. 

“Thirty for the small prints and forty-five for the larger,” watching her eyes as they darted around the room, knowing she was acknowledging the creatures that wanted nothing more than everyone to suffer. For the most part, the cubi had been ignoring them and tried to keep his attention on his old friend. Especially when his obsession and paranoia was tied fiercely to the emerald scale that Silas kept safely in his pocket, “And I’m sure I’ve got some frames in the back that would fit. No charge, of course. They are practically free at every sale, some even from other prints that didn’t really go with them.”

franciscoamore‌:

closed starter for @silaskyun​

Francisco didn’t find himself going to Knick Knack ever, but the frequent feeling of restlessness had him wandering there to see if Silas was okay. He couldn’t be the only one feeling like this, could he? Nevertheless, walking into the store, his eyes darted from trinket to trinket. Was this place often busy? There were a few people in there with him now, but he couldn’t imagine there were crowds of people waiting to buy something. It was nothing against Silas at all. After all, the incubus surely was the best of them all in terms of personality. People were better off running into Silas than they were running into Fran. He was more likely to leave them soulless than the other. Walking up to the other man, he let a smile reach his lips. “So…got any gifts and trinkets to sell me?”

For the span of almost two weeks, Silas had been taking orders in masses for various masks and custom orders to the point that he had actually had to turn down quite a few. Festival season was always busy for the cubi, no matter the country he was in. Months prior had really been when he started prepping, but the recent weeks had made it extremely difficult to stay focused on the tasks at hand. The saving grace in this was a good majority of the pieces that were not special requests were ready for their finishing touches and Silas didn’t need to think much creatively. Though what he did reserve creatively speaking, the cubi made sure it was for those he considered closer to him — or just wanted to impress. “Nothing to sell,” charcoal hues moving from Fran to a section under the cashier desk, “Just to give.” A neatly wrapped package was gently set before them and Silas slid it towards the fellow cubi, “You know, for the festival.”

opheliancano​:

@silaskyun​

An incubus is capable of recognizing furies. Ophelia knows this, and dislikes it heavily. So why is she hanging around one of their kind, again? The thought is slightly perplexing, and one she does not readily have an answer to. Perhaps it’s because she finds him interesting — of that she has no problem admitting. And incubuses were created to sow chaos and harm, and she hasn’t quite decided on how much of a threat he poses to the good people of the city yet, so maybe that’s it too. He visits the tea shop, she visits his knick knack store; it feels like a delicate game being played, each side sizing the other up and taking notes. Yet for all her reasons and excuses, the one she least of all wants to acknowledge is the simple fact that… well, she wanted to. And here they are now, standing in front of what appears to be a dart throwing competition, at a celebration she never would have dreamed about in her lifetime. Ophelia smiles and turns to her companion. “Well Silas, how’s your aim?” 

So he was more than just a little curious about the tea shop waitress, the incubus was allowed the right. It wasn’t just that his senses would buzz the moment Ophelia would find her way around him, holding onto much of the same interest as himself, but the intrigue of who she was and what made her tick. They shared similar qualities and maybe that was part of it. Both quiet, but much like an iceberg— the two of them held many layers of depth underneath. “Rusty,” he replied honestly, grabbing for one of the darts and shifting his body for a good aim. Years had gone by since the last time the incubus had actually attempted a game such as this, but he tried anyway and watched as his dart missed the desired target. A defeated smile emerged as he turned to look at Ophelia, wondering if she was choking back a giggle and moved to let her continue the game. “Definitely much better at being moral support than playing the game, it seems,” Silas wasn’t all that upset about it, spending much of his life being on the outskirts looking in and finding comfort in the position.

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.”

✧

SEND ME A ✧ AND I’LL BOLD ALL THAT APPLY TO YOUR MUSE.

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

leightonhaywood‌:

“Interesting line of work.” Useful, probably lucrative considering how full of supernaturals the bay was. Leighton took another sip of his tea as he thought back to his London flat. He really didn’t have anything “magical” aside from maybe a few books about healing magic. Which were kind of pointless, but he liked them anyways. It’s not like he had anything against magic, he was sure if he found something that interested him enough, he’d get it. He’d just never bothered searching for anything. 

“What do you find around here usually?” There were a lot of historical sites, local artisans and such, but he was curious. Corinth was a hub for the supernatural for a reason, surely it was brimming with magical things all over the place. Maybe that was something he should be looking into. “Solely speaking as someone with not much interest in such things.”

“A lot of jewelry,” the cubi started, placing his mind on several gold and copper pieces that had been enchanted for different purposes. As he had learned more about the supernatural world after his transition, Silas realized how much power was in the objects that dangled around everyone’s necks. Charm spells, anointed in magical oils, various stones that could even make a mere human more fortunate and those were the hot ticket items. The only thing that was truly different was the details or the style, which varied from different regions and forged with a contrast of items. “Masks, coins— bronze trinkets. Some of them just seem like completely ordinary things sitting on your grandmother’s hearth, but actually help find magical ingredients. Kind of like a metal detector,” a smile holding, clearly speaking from experience and still enjoyed talking with the client that took it in. An older gentleman whose eyes were not as good as his younger years and paid Silas a little extra just for being polite. “Though the objects I find are just as interesting as the people that seek them, in my experience,” his usual tone, but with a sour punch at the end that the cubi couldn’t quite control. He saw many different types, not just the good side where people cherished the object and it sat on a shelf. No, some lusted for darkness in a way that Silas had never seen— even at war.

calidavidalis‌:

What: Closed starter

Who: Calida and Silas @silaskyun​

When: March 25, 2020, 6:56 pm

Where: Art Convention

Calida glowered. There were too many people around her, touching her without permission - even if they were just brushing by. She had to be there, though, as an artist and parlor owner. Fire & Brimstone had its own stand, handing out business cards, showing portfolios, and even giving small tattoos for reduced price. 

But she and her employee had been there for a couple hours now, and the witch was growing restless. Leaving the stand in the hands of the other, Lida wandered until she found herself standing in front of a particularly terrible stand. “Are you kidding me?” She muttered to no one in particular before turning to the person beside her. “This is shit. Like, literal shit. You see it, right?”

Conventions were always a good time for Silas to get to see what others around him were doing, where the art styles of present day were headed. Over the years he had more than grown into his own ways, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t adapt here and there depending on the look. Never was he found compromising his work, but it was always nice to make a little extra cash now and then. Especially with his travels. Being a cubi meant that eventually he would have to move again and being an artist? Well, it was hit or miss on paying the bills.

His feet gently moved from one booth to the next, buying pieces when they seemed to fit his shop's particular style or even his. That’s when he heard her, ebony hair still bouncing as her body seemed to tense slightly, and words cold enough to send a chill down the spine. The phrase seemed harsh until Silas actually took a look at the artwork the woman referred to. Clearly something you would find at a children’s craft show, not for acclaimed artists to view and it was hard for him not to choke out a little laugh. “Oh, I see it,” he replied, holding onto a bag with prints from the day and a look on his face that matched the tone, “It’s amazing what people will try and pass as art these days.”

lucysgreen‌:

A look: oversized t-shirt, yesterday’s jeans, yesterday’s make-up– all of that paired with some very fashionable puffy red eyes she could not have been bothered to cover. The girl hadn’t even remembered to put on her shoes as she stormed out of the building and ran until her feet felt wet sand under them.

It was odd. The ocean had never before offered her any kind of comfort whatsoever. Not until coming to Corinth Bay, anyways. But now she found herself at its shore whenever she felt like there was nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to run. With a deep breath she let the sound of the waves slow down her heart– and she was almost successful until she felt a splash of water hitting her face (mind you, one that clearly did not come from the ocean’s nature itself).

Lucy gave an audible gasp and then a loud and irritated: “Will you stop that?!” directed to the source.

@corinthbaystarters​

At times, Silas found himself seaside listening to the waves crashing right below his feet. Sketchbook in hand with a large bag of different artists' tools depending on his mood, drawing anything that interested him or came into his mind. Sometimes it was the water itself, other times it was the various faces that could be found making their way across the gulf’s drift wood and pieces of shells. It was a chance to get away from his shop and find new inspiration in the people that called Corinth their home, along with the many visitors that appreciated its allure.

That was when she appeared— hair catching light giving it hints of crimson and gold. The woman had also seemed out of place. Not in the sense that she didn’t belong around the bay, just that she almost didn’t seem to know what exactly she was running to. More that she had to run from something. The cubi began to sketch her, entranced by her presence until he heard her shout at the water tides with all her might. Expression changed within moments and he attempted to sketch that, too. Charcoal hues glanced up and back down at his paper, trying not to seem too obvious with his movements as he wanted to keep capturing her naturally. A tool he often used when evading the North Korean army during the war, drawing them without even realizing he had been feet away the entire time.

“If a man treats a life artistically, his brain is his heart.”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via wordsnquotes)