Because The World Is So Full Of Death And Horror, I Try Again And Again To Console My Heart And Pick

Months had gone by without a single trace, causing Silas to wonder if the object existed in the first place. Rumors and hanging onto belief that his client was right in her pursuit grew difficult, but Safiye insisted on his continued search. The cubi listened without attaching too much thought. It was never any of his business why certain items needed to be obtained and simply accepted that if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else. Which led him down a path that he hadn’t quite expected this time and talking to individuals from many different walks of life. Originally the necklace was traced back to Gascony, a region in France that was ruled by the English Crown during the 14th century. Once the witch trials had started, however, many of the possessions in the area were lost or obliterated. Finding anything during that period of destruction was next to impossible, but not completely. “Hey, it’s Silas at Knick Knack. I think I found it,” he stated calmly on her voicemail as charcoal hues continued to examine the detail of the brass and condition of its embedded stones. It was as if it was brand new, glass still in perfect condition and hung by the original chain. Though the cubi knew after over fifty years of experience that items like this are not always what they seem.

@safiyebasak​

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.”

In the end, always laugh. And do not lose this strange habit of having faith in life.

Daniel C. L.  (via convertions)

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.

kieratandanu​:

for @silaskyun​.

     “You look like you need something to eat.” Kiera’s feet hurt from standing in her pride boots all day, and as the streets had lightened up a little, she had decided to take a break by taking a seat on the counter of her booth, legs dangling in the air as she presented a plate with rainbow colored cupcakes to anyone who passed. She’d recognized the man from the shop she bought a mask for her aunt from not too long ago, and pointed her free hand at him with a wide smile on her face. Most importantly, he looked like he deserved to have some fun, and she’d always argue that it was easiest achieved with some good food. “I’ll give you a free taste test if you want. There’s nothing better than some rainbows in your stomach at pride.”

The witch that ran Kiki’s was easily one of his favorite individuals in town, admiring that even at such a young age she could carry all that weight and still place a smile on her face. “I could always use something to eat,” charcoal irises landing on the cupcakes in her hand, an array of colors being presented and sparkling details, “And rainbow cake always hits the plot.” Feet gently made their way over, fingertips reaching for one that displayed a light blue frosting with what looked to be a rainbow sour gummy on top. A childlike expression found its way on his face as he shoved a large bite into his mouth, eyes gently closing with delight and Silas had to stop himself from chatting with his mouth full. “I couldn’t possibly take anything from you for free,” he finally stated, frosting still along the creases and on his cheeks, “How much are they?”

franciscoamore‌:

It was a busy time of year when there was any type of festival happening. Francisco had been to his fair share of them in his centuries of living and it was always the best time for him to work his magic. Unfortunately, it was not the same for Silas. The two of them were very different in how they went about surviving and Fran was never one to judge the people he cared about most. Silas had been and still was one of his closest friends. That also meant that he was going to have a very special mask waiting for him. And he was certainly right when the other cubi pulled a neatly wrapped around package out from behind the desk he was at. A slow smile lifted onto his face. “Silas, have I ever told you that I love you? If not, I certainly need to say it more.” He would wait until he got home to open it. Anything from a friend was something he was bound to like. Especially if it was hand-crafted. “What’s your plans for the festival? Got a hot date?”

A gentle scoff came from Silas at the question, trying to remember the last time he even went on a date that didn’t end with him feeding off them after. He wasn’t sure that was even considered a date to anyone but the other party, not giving them any indication that he was interested in them after it was all said and done. Even before the curse, Silas was not known to be the dating type. He was quiet, didn’t flaunt who he was and often didn’t stand out to those who didn’t know him best. Slow kindling was more in the cubi’s wheelhouse and actually finding anything that resembled a relationship had long slipped into the back of his mind. “My plan was to drink casually and watch the chaos,” a tired grin emerged onto his lips as he spoke, taking the compliments tossed his way and trying to hid the flush of his cheeks, “You know by now that hot date and Silas don’t usually find themselves in the same sentence.”

Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

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“Wasn’t no harm in him. You’d give him a flower, he’d keep it forever.”

— Linda from Terrence Malick’s “Days of Heaven”

The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.

Auguste Rodin (via wordsnquotes)