Calidavidalis‌:

gabrielxnikephoros‌:

“I heard…that Tranquilitea is under the ownership of a shapeshifter who just really fucking likes tea. Then you have the witch at Anxietea who loves the magical brews that do a little more for the person that drinks it. Neither is really better in my opinion, but I’ve also had way too much fucking tea in my life time.” It took Gabriel a few more moments, but he placed his hand against Silas’s chest, “What’s wrong?” He noted the exhaustion that seemed to creep in from the other’s soul – the way he looked far more tired, almost like Kasandra had. 

Waving a hand, Silas tried his best to ignore the topic of his own personal health. He had been on the brink of exhaustion all week and each moment the cubi finally made it into deep sleep, the usual nightmare routine would creep in. There was no way he wanted to talk about it fully, even with the look of pure concern hanging on Gabriel’s face and filling Silas with guilt. “Haven’t fully recovered from the Eidolon’s,” a white lie that he hoped didn’t show through given his current state and tried to change the subject back, “I like Anxietea’s Secret Tea Party blend with the rooibos. You can’t tell me you don’t have a favorite.”

antoinagrcgor‌:

Antonia was holding a collection of prints in her grasp. She heard the shop owner walk over by of his footsteps in the creak in the old cypress floors. She smiled + looked over her shoulder to meet his eye-line. “Actually, I found a few of your prints that I enjoyed.” Her German accent flowed from her red lips like honey. “Do you have anything printed from any local parks?”

There was nothing like seeing a familiar face when living nomadic for years, bringing a smile out of Silas that was more reserved for them. Antonia was one of those familiar faces and someone that he never regretted meeting. She had always amazed him with her spirit, conviction of always wanting to be the best she can for those around her, and hardly thought of herself before others. Those spirits could be rare not just in the human world, but the supernatural too. “I think I still have a few from my travels to Samariá Gorge, but that isn’t exactly local. Maybe something from Kolokotronis or Loutraki is more what you mean?”

Steven Yeun by Robyn Von Swank (2014)

gabrielxnikephoros‌:

Gabriel had made his way around the store to stand by Silas finally, tilting his head a little bit more at the snark that exited his friend’s mouth. The other incubus was soft; a kinder spirit than Gabriel had ever met in his entire existence. And that existence was being reminded to him, again. “Oh, so he’s got jokes.” Gabriel huffed out a laugh, shoving Silas lightly, “Unbelievable. I offer you my friendship, my wisdom with all my age, and you just – throw it back at me. Forget it. I’m going to steal the tea recipes and then I’m going to blame you.”

“Alright, see you in about thirty minutes,” the fellow cubi kept the smirk firmly planted on his face as Gabriel attempted to psych him out. Silas wasn’t exactly sure if he really needed another with him in order to do the deed, but assumed another set of hands was probably necessary. Either that or another set of eyes. Regardless, he was involved now for better or worse. “Maybe you can support the bookstore across the street while you wait. I’m sure there is something you haven’t seen yet.”

Hephaestus

Hephaestus: Are you particularly skilled at any crafts? If so, which?Painting, drawing, doll design, sculpture, furniture upscaling or creating, pottery, upholstery, just about any carpentry and carving.

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?”

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.

kaanerdcgan​:

open starter taking place at acanthus mollis @corinthbaystarters

People were interesting most of the time. The way they moved about as if nothing was wrong with the world intrigued him. They were surely blinded by how charming the people that desperately wanted to take advantage of that were. His own boyfriend had been blinded, but he would never lump Elias in with the rest. No, he was one of a kind. Everyone else though? They were just naive. As he walked into the nearby flower shop that happened to be across the street from his funeral parlor, he looked around for a moment before turning to the nearest body. “What flowers do you think a child would want at their funeral. Mother says daisies, but that sounds pretty fucking stupid, doesn’t it?”

Most of the cubi that Silas knew only held some similar qualities to himself, which was fine given the differences between backgrounds and where everyone was from. All older than himself as the line of their kind seemed to diminish over time, making them more and more rare. That’s why he tried to make friends when he discovered they, too, had been changed or crossed the wrong god. “I suppose I understand the color choice— white, innocence and all that,” giving the mother some benefit of doubt, even if Kaan always saw the more cynical side of life, “Those camellia look nice or maybe the freesia?”

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?”

A-Z Challenge: @thewinedarksea​ vs. @ibuzoo

D - Dokkaebi; also known as Korean goblins, possess extraordinary powers and abilities that are used to interact with humans, at times playing tricks on them and at times helping them.