Leightonhaywood‌:

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?”

Over time, Silas had gotten used to forgetting a day or two from the past. Memory had this oddness about it that could be fleeting or become twisted and he had noticed this gradually as the years passed on. That’s what his journaling had been for, a habit that started during the war and only continued as things worsened in his home country. But this was and felt so different. Sure a day would go by that might be less than eventful, causing the cubi to pause at the memory of the day or two before— but the day was gone. Not just little cracks of what happened, completely wiped from existence. All he had was the various notes he had written later that night about the oddity and curiosity of what he had seen that night. However, none of it made sense and Silas couldn’t even draw out the connection. When his mind would try to dig it out, it was as though a dark blank was placed there instead.

Tapping lightly on the end of his pen, Silas sat puzzled on a bench outside his shop. The sign currently read closed as he grappled with the situation. As if the memory wasn’t hard enough for him, the damn Eidolon’s wouldn’t let him be. They were trying their hardest to chip away at him, but his attentions had been in so many different places that seeing his dead relatives had been the last of his concerns. The scale and the journal entry was driving the cubi madder than any Eidolon could. Even the fact that his sister wasn’t present in his hauntings didn’t phase him, a detail that wouldn’t have usually gone past the young cubi and instead the emerald shimmer flooded his thoughts. He shuffled it through his fingers tips, eyes locked and entranced while the world around him seemed to keep beating. How could he have possibly noticed the shadow of a man coming towards his direction?

@maddcxaquinc​

leightonhaywood‌:

“Silas?” He’d thought that was the shopkeep who’d passed him earlier, he’d been too busy reading to pay it much thought. The park wasn’t really a park, just a nice spot in public and every so often it was better than taking up space in the coffee shops. He’d tried to avoid them as of late anyways, after the whole ghost incident. Not ghosts, Eidolons, that’s what people were calling them. They were gone now, thanks to the Delphi coven, thanks to the Argos pack. 

If the other had heard him, he hadn’t mustered any form of response, still was making his way to the bench and Leighton followed after him, book tucked back into the bag haphazardly slung over his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, it was no wonder Silas hadn’t paid him much mind. There was an almost vacant look to him, bags beneath his eyes. There was no sign of his usual cheery self, no sign of that almost playful friendly nature. “Si, I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like shit.” Brow furrowed, he stopped in front of the other and crossed his arms over his chest. It felt like he was scolding him, and maybe in a way, he was. But he was far more concerned than anything. 

If his name was being called, Silas wasn’t fully aware of it. Completely consumed by thoughts that all linked themselves to the item he carried close to him and kept walking. He knew better than to assume that the scale would just stop holding onto his curse without some kind of intervention, but the cubi allowing someone to examine it was the furthest thing from his mind. No one else was going to touch it, that was the whole point of him continuing to take the burden on. The whole reason for it still being heavy inside his pocket, the chill of the bench sending shivers up his spine as he took a seat. It wasn’t until then that Silas noticed the creased expression on his friends face and that the incubus was anything but alone. A daze had taken him, charcoal hues showing no signs of cylinders firing and Silas blinked a few times while Leighton’s words sunk in. ‘You look like shit,’ echoed in his brain and all the cubi could do was nod in agreement. He knew he did. “Not rude in the slightest. I do look like shit, don’t I,” words came out slow, as if each one was difficult to pronounce and for a moment he had to make sure they weren’t in Korean, “Haven’t been sleeping very well.” As if that wasn’t apparent, but going into it much further than that didn’t seem right when he hadn’t been asked. Last thing he wanted was to distress the vampire anymore than he already looked.

waeteeth‌:

“Really? In this day an’ age?” He couldn’t find it in himself to be anything but a little intrigued. An artisan in Greece of all places, how….Strangely romantic? Jamie wasn’t quite sure if that was the right way to phrase it. Or if he even cared about it. However he did know he liked a man who worked with his hands in general, was a telltale sign they knew how to use them. 

Down boy. 

There wasn’t really a smell to him, which didn’t mean he wasn’t just a human, Jamie knew better by now. Still, woodworking felt like such a lost art, something he didn’t see too often anymore. If he’d have been in a mood to dwell on his past, he’d maybe have thought back to seeing his father whittle something out of an oak branch while they attended the stables at the estate. But he wasn’t too keen on that anymore, would tolerate a flash here and there, but that was it. “Ye a local then? Or sell those wares fae place tae place?”

A gentle head nod at the question as the bartender brought Silas his drink, placing it on a black coaster not too far from his hand. He moved to grip it, a tinge of butterflies throughout his insides as the man placed interest in his occupation, bringing the cocktail to his lips in hopes that it would relieve his own tension. It wasn’t often that he was interested in another without it being his dinner and the cubi’s obsidian hues lit up faintly at discussing his work.

“Local now,” he stated after clearing his throat, liquor burning its way down his esophagus as it planted into his empty stomach and felt the warmth take him, “Just a few years, shop on the main street. Though I have done some place to place,” the accent was still a bit rough on the cubi’s ears, but he could place enough to get the message. Silas honestly couldn’t even fully place it, just knowing the brunette had to be from some United Kingdom attached area— right? “Bit difficult to manage,” he spoke over the sudden change in music, club seeming to get louder as they sat inches apart at the bar-top.

“A familiar face,” the cubi stated as he gently removed his mask to reveal a smile as he came up to the couple. Over his time working with the werewolf on displaying her custom pieces, Silas had heard many lovely things about Nora’s wife and just hadn’t had the chance to meet her. His current state of fatigue was hardly the first impression he wanted to give, but from what he understood of the witch— there was probably no reason to worry over it. Eye bags on full display after another night of unrest, yet the scale was still firmly placed inside his pant pocket. Pulling out a hand to shake, the cubi gave a warm grin and spoke loudly over the crowds, “Seen any fun booths?”

@noraxzhao​

beau-zale‌:

The thing about these “supernatural hub” towns was that they made for good shopping. Crystal shops, elaborate flower places, throw in some new age juice place covered in pagan imagery, throw in a vampire bar and one not so stereotypical shop amongst them  and you have BINGO. The place he’d stepped into now was one of those, a free space kind of place. Local art tourist attraction kind of deal, it was an interesting take on the usual tshirt and shot glass place, he supposed. That kind of thing didn’t interest him so much as all of the secondhand stuff. Not quite a thrift store, but there were certainly antiques and if this gig was more long haul, maybe he’d be back for some of them. That wasn’t what he was there for today though, there were few particular things he picked up from these kinds of places. If only he could find them among all the various knick knacks. @silaskyun​

Spring months always brought in more business to outside shops like his. After months of being locked inside, everyone was desperate to get out and do a little meandering the streets. It didn’t quite guarantee business, but this resurgence gave him the chance to actually get some fresh wears in the window and new artist work looked at. Not to mention all the lack of sleep between the nightmares and emerald scale that never left the cubi’s pocket, having plenty of time to get various objects moved. Dark, puffy circles hung from Silas’ eyes as he heard the chime of the store bell ring and a stranger wandered inside. Immediately he could sense the abundance of magic as he watched the man slink through the isles, eyes darting about as if he was looking for something specific. “Help you find something?” a tone as friendly as he could under the circumstances, exhaustion hanging onto him with a firm grip.

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.”

Alexandros + Poseidon

Alexandros: Have there ever been repercussions to your actions you regret?I absolutely regret not fighting for my sister, Ri-na. Not being able to protect her when she needed it the most and not fighting with the Japanese for taking her. I can only imagine what her fate turned out to be and I should have been right there with her. Most might expect it to be my transition, but I know I still would have done it all over again.

Poseidon: Have you ever been so consumed in a task that you lost the reasoning behind it?Often with my art, yes. Wondering if each of these pieces actually make a difference or if I’m just unable to completely let go of the past. Yet— well, I guess I still create so not all is lost.

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​