Silaskyun - Blemished.

✧

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).

noraxzhao‌:

“Silas?”

Nora stepped into the silent, warm interior of Knick Knack, and though the bell on the door announced her arrival, she called for him for good measure, just to be sure. She stepped around the shop, bag over her shoulder and a small stack of business cards in her hand, finally halting at a dining set she’d made a month ago. Much to her delight, a neat handwritten card sat atop it with the single word sold written across it. She’d done matching scrolling carving on the legs of each of the chairs as well as the table, and the table itself could expand to fit more people than just four. About then she heard soft footsteps heading towards her from elsewhere in the shop, and she turned to grin at whom she assumed was Silas himself.

“It sold!” she chirped happily. “That’s wonderful!” Momentarily, the few smaller objects to hand over to him and the additional business cards were forgotten in favor of celebrating the sale of something she’d spent absolute ages on–it was nice to know someone else liked her work as much as she enjoyed making it. @silaskyun​

Ding, ding.

The cubi’s heart leapt at the sound of the chime, hyper focused on the object glistening in his hand and notes strewn about. Ever since he had woken up with the scale and no memory of the day before, everything about him didn’t make sense. It was as if the core of his personality shifted slightly and he couldn’t keep his hands off the scale. Currently it was snug inside his pocket, the same one his hand gently slid into as he made his way to the front of his store. Silas’ saving grace was the familiarity of the voice, but it could also be a downfall. Ones that knew him best might notice the behavior shift and his need to understand why he had the scale in the first place, but he hoped Nora would be a good escape. He left his notebook open, still on the day that he had written the events that he no longer could bring back to the forefront.

“To a lovely couple that just moved in together,” a broad smile on his face, welcoming the wolf’s excitement and leaned casually on his front counter, “Asked if you could also do a few other personal pieces to match, if you are up for it.” Which he had assumed Nora would be, already giving the couple reassurance that it could be done. “A lot of people had been eyeing it, but these two seem as though they will cherish it. They both seemed tired of the same old Ikea look and your work is one of a kind, truly meant to be heirloom pieces.”

aramayer‌:

The shop had always been on the street, a beacon of chaos and intrigue for any passer by. Ara would often pass it on his way home, it’s niche allure was a temptress and yet Ara always managed to continue on his way with little thought to what lay behind the old doors. On this day however, Ara hadn’t been able to shake its spell. Taking a detour and stepping through the threshold, he was bewitched by the amount of stand out items that seemed to litter the entirety of the shop. The smooth voice drifting from further within the knick knack shop tore him from his enchanted trance, “I – uh. Honestly everything,” his gaze fell from the different antiques and odd ends to meet the eyes of the shop keeper, “you probably get that a lot,” he flashed a smile, “Just thought I’d stop in. It’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be.” 

A chuckle fell from the shop owners lips and Silas felt humbled once again. He loved watching eyes light up, followed by ‘oo’ and ‘awe’. That was part of the reason he stayed in this line of work, second to the burning passion he had felt from a young age. “Probably not as often as you would think,” his Greek was noticeably choppy, but far enough along that his accent didn’t disrupt the understanding, “Some are afraid to walk-in without a purpose, not wanting to leave without at least a purchase. Others have a need or desire that they are looking for.” His smile continued, charcoal hues falling on the stranger as they took in every inch of the space, “I appreciate the compliments none-the-less. An artist always strives for that and I know the others whose work is displayed would agree.”

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.

kasandrarosales‌:

A wallflower. Not the first and certainly not the last of that particular personality breed. Were she more favorable towards potential prey, perhaps Kasandra might even take an opportunity to understand them on a deeper level. As it were, she felt a bit more consistent with the current monotony of her life: seduce, feed, release into the wild once more. Avoid names, avoid faces, and above all, avoid connection. Most deserved the unbearable ache of emptiness which followed them afterwards, but whether this patron also earned a hellish remainder to his mortality had yet to be determined. 

“My club seems to draw those types in like moths to a flame.” The most recent conversation with Leighton quickly surfacing within her mind. Even as she spoke, Kasandra began pouring herself a similar glass to match his and although she preferred wine above all else, mimicry of another tended to lend itself to favorability. People search for a familiar habit, any thread of affinity worth latching onto when in the midst of a natural allure. “I would have noticed you. In here, at the very least.” Bringing the glass to parted lips, she pulls it away just before speaking. “Are you waiting on someone?”

Yet the cubi knew he had flown under her radar, though his presence within the club was not frequent or long lasting when it occurred. Regardless of the perception, Silas’s main and usually only reason for coming into a place like this was his cursed hunger. There was, however, a detail of her comment that he couldn’t fully ignore. My club. Which explained why she would notice individuals, they were all her paying customers and patrons. It was still odd that she hadn’t noticed him, though this just went to show how skilled the cubi’s irish goodbye had really become. Come inside the club, find the easiest human to feed off of, leave without a trace of his existence within. Not such a bad thing in his mind.

After a gentle head shake, his charcoal hues locked into her own and gave a smile, “No.” Not as if Silas really needed to lie about that fact. He was with no one and no one would be coming up to him stating otherwise, “Just needed to get out. I run a shop on my own and while the silence is nice for a while, social interaction — I’ve heard — is essential for humans.” A chuckle and another sip before he attempted to turn the attention towards herself, “I couldn’t help but notice you say this was your club, how long have you owned it?”

Steven Yeun photographed by Matteo Mobilio for GQ Magazine (2018)

kieratandanu‌:

      These days it was rare that Kiera even had enough time to visit any shop that wasn’t her own tiny restaurant. But she had almost forgotten that it was her aunt’s birthday this weekend, and that she needed a gift. Luckily for her, her aunt wasn’t very picky, and for some weird reason entirely enamored with masks – and she knew where to get one, thanks to the fact that it wasn’t the first one she wanted to gift her. Eyes traveling over the masks on the wall, she shrugged her shoulders as the question was placed. “I’m not sure yet.” Her fingers were itching to just snap and get the masks from the wall herself, but instead she pointed to two of the colorful ones. “Could I take a closer look at those? I need a gift for my aunt.”

Grabbing the step ladder from behind the counter, Silas napped it open and proceeded to get the masks down. It was always an interesting experience working in the shop. Meeting all kinds of different styles of people and having a small peek into how they live. Individuals that found masks fascinating were more rare as he stepped out Korea, people finding them creepy or not wanting to feel as though the eyes followed them. Others, like many inside Greece, found them to be part of normal life. Performance tools that many used in theatrical performances, much like his own culture history and loved that he could use his talents again. Silas snagged the two and slowly came back down, placing them both in front of the woman, “We also offer gift boxes to fit the mask, along with wrapping paper to fit the occasion.”

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.”

i love eye flirting

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?”