So— He Hadn’t Seen Her Since The Festival. Unusual Given The Fact That Before That, Silas Had Spent

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

It’s OK to be a little weird. You’re an artist and people expect that. Don’t let them down. Now, let’s give this tree a friend. There.

Bob Ross (via wnq-anonymous)

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.”

cxnnxrmorgan‌:

Connor only ever visited the library when he had absolutely no other choice. It definitely had nothing to do with Gabriel (except that it had everything to do with Gabriel). He often snuck in when he felt like the Cubi wasn’t paying attention, and had nearly successfully avoided him on most occasions. Browsing the stacks now, he ran fingers down the spine of a historical biography, chewing his lower lip. He spoke Greek but reading it was still sometimes a struggle. French had always been his forte. Too bad he couldn’t find a translator patient enough to work through it with him. After some struggle, he finally plucked the right book off the shelf and moved to a different section- crafting- looking for a place to settle on the floor to get to work. He stopped as he rounded the corner to find a face that looked familiar but he couldn’t place- perhaps it was a customer that frequented the shop- “Excuse me, but I’m looking for a bit of help.” He raised the book and wiggled it slightly, “I have trouble reading Greek, are you any good?” ( @silaskyun​ )

What Silas loved about the local library was how large their selection was. Many of the small towns he had found himself in barely had anything at all, not even a government funded one, and there was something about the feeling of a book in his hand that he still couldn’t get over. Their section on woodwork had copies of books that the cubi had never laid eyes on. Such as ‘Tricks of the Trade’ and ‘The House Beautiful’ by Clarence Cook, most of which had been translated into Greek text and was still difficult for him to read. Sure, it gave him the practice he much needed but didn’t exactly help when certain tools didn’t quite fit the translation as he had hoped. Most of the time he would find himself digging out his phone for help from Google to get it into Korean, but it never worked well. Even the English translation came off choppy and tricky to read. So when he heard the man next to him asking for assistance, Silas wasn’t exactly sure he could offer much assistance. He gave the man a meek grimace, but charcoal hues remained kind, “Not sure how much help I would be. Greek is far from my first language, but I could always give it a go.”

atlasxrose‌:

@silaskyun​

Atlas sat pondering the vision he’d had the night of the murder, the woman with dark hair and dark eyes, the green scales that had trailed up and down her arms. The onslaught of spirits that had besieged the town, if there was no way of saving her that night, then why had the Gods sent him a vision of her entering the Temple? He wondered what use it all was, questioning things that he could quite clearly not control. The witch had wandered into a shop, doing what he could to distract himself when he saw the man standing not far from him now. 

Atlas wasn’t sure why his intuition had brought him here, but Scylla had been at the forefront of his thoughts so the witch just spat the question out. “Hey, this might seem like a weird question but you haven’t seen a woman come in here in the last few days have you? - Uh, dark hair, dark eyes?” This was Corinth, Atlas had just described probably the majority of the female population. “I don’t know… She was a bit unique.” Scaled, for instance. “You’d remember her.”

A single eyebrow arose on Silas’s face at the question. It wasn’t as if there were a lot of people that came into his shop, but the list had already risen up to at least a dozen and the cubi wasn’t sure how to respond. The man before him looked flustered, words sounding a bit desperate and all Silas could do was give him a shrug. “Yeah, I mean—” the right words needed to be chosen in order to get more information from the stranger, “A few, but maybe you can give me a little more detail? Was she wearing something specific?”

Though through all the chatting, he couldn’t keep his mind off the scale in his pocket as if it was burning a hole. The cubi wanted to touch it, place his calloused hands upon the smooth emerald finish just to ensure it was still resting there. But if he went for it now, there was no way he wouldn’t seem suspicious and he begged his mind to stop thinking about it. “Maybe even a specific piece of jewelry?” which would have been something Silas had actually noticed given his line of work. Unique pieces to the mass-market objects, he enjoyed seeing what was on trend and being purchased.

Soft Affection

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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.”