Rpmememaker‌:

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.

celiezmorgan‌:

@silaskyun​ location: knick knack

It wasn’t really like Celie to go to gift shops, but this one seemed to cute to pass up. She had been trying to scope out every store in the city just to see what she could learn from being there. The little bell on the door rang as Celie stepped in, and she gave the owner a little wave. There was nothing right off the bat, but there was always time to learn. As the hunter toured the small room, she couldn’t help but smile. “This place is really cute.”

The storefront hadn’t been open for too long, so it was always a surprise whenever someone actually decided to mosey in. It gave Silas the chance to show off local artists and hopefully get a few other pieces out the door with the interactions. Trinkets, masks, custom furniture littered every inch of the shop, yet all had its own unique location. Micro-environments set up to give a different feel depending on the spot stood in and nothing seemed too lost in the madness. Some days he would take out pieces and re-display them later in the season if he noticed there weren’t any bites, a fun habit Silas started when the thought of eternity really set in. “I appreciate it,” a small grin and delicate head nod as arms found a home on the counter-top, “and so do the other artists.”

leightonhaywood‌:

Every so often he found himself in the small shop surrounded by things he definitely should not fill his London flat with at the expense of looking like a tourist. Shelves were already lined with trinkets from here or there. Sometimes it a souvenir wasn’t something that he could buy, a rock off the ground from a particularly beautiful mountain, a flower from the edge of a lush forest. Hell, Leighton had leaves pressed between pages with their name, location, and the date he’d found them, meticulously scrawled beside them. Everything was an attempt to capture the feeling of a moment in a place as he desperately sought to document the abundance of time on his hands. 

Silas had made this more than just a place for tourists though. Local art pieces hung among the knick knacks, pieces of furniture finely crafted, a couple of oddities from the beaches here and there. “I’m trying to decide if I do indeed need another teapot or if I should just surrender and buy a proper cabinet to display them all in.” He took a sip of the tea in the thermos in his hand and nodded to the shelf. “The kittens might be too whimsical to pass up.” 

Leighton had become something of a regular at Knick Knack and the pattern seemed to form in the blink of an eye. Sometimes the vampire would mosey in with general conviction, knowing exactly what he wanted as if the moment depended on it. Other times his shoulders looked slunk and caused Silas to wonder if the shop was just another way to pass the time. Not as if that was a horrible thing in the young cubi’s mind, the gods knew that was why he continued to do it. Trinkets, the little things, and all those varying purchases could be used as a way to connect and remember when time was the enemy. His own studio could be found with different objects littered about that helped keep his mind sharp and attached to the memories most important to Silas.

“You could finally accept my offer to build you one,” the cubi joked, but half hoped Leighton would actually say the word. He had several different concepts that he kept on the side, unable to control himself after the vampire had first mentioned it. Cabinets was almost a specialty at this point, having designed many during his time in Korea and felt a bit eager to craft another. Especially for someone like Leighton and the unique way he decorated his loft back home, “And take the whimsical kittens.”

Zeus, Thetis, Demeter

Zeus: What thing are you most hypocritical of?Myself, honestly. Even after these sixty plus years, I haven’t completely let rest to the fact that my gods will no longer accept me. It isn’t until the overwhelming hunger sets in that I actually go to feed that I’m reminded again, playing it off as though my own survival is necessary. Other lives seem so much more important to me until I cannot take it anymore.

Thetis: What’s the most you’ve ever done for your loved ones?Before and even after the change I’ve done a lot for my family. I suppose it’s difficult to compare one moment to the next, but my time of being a War Artist really was a huge sacrifice. I sent my time away from them, constantly wondering if they were still safe at my Aunt’s inn. I would go back home to give them money and then be right back to traveling the next day, it was— it was a very difficult time for all of us.

Demeter: What would you most grieve for if it was taken from you?I’ve already had it all taken, so there is not much I would grieve for any longer. I still grieve for my family, for my sister, which have all been taken from me.

waeteeth‌:

“There ye are, thought ye’d never show up.” Normally Jamie didn’t really have a problem telling people to fuck off, but it was too early in the night to start anything. The woman who’d been chatting him up at the bar, he’d completely ignored her to sidle up to a stranger who’d just walked through the bar. A stranger who smelled of sawdust and amber, something smooth and sweet. Interesting enough to keep around for the moment if he didn’t completely scare him off. Which wouldn’t be completely unreasonable, he would be beyond miffed if someone had pulled the same thing on him. Unless-

“Play along for fifteen minutes an’ I’ll buy ye literally whatever ye want.” @silaskyun​

The night had really only just started for the young cubi when the dark haired man slid up next to him. Typically it would be Gabriel, ready to get him into another round of trouble, but the accent didn’t match. Well, actually height had seemed to be the only thing that matched as Silas’ charcoals caught the strangers seafoam hues. Younger and carried an energy about him that screamed disorderly. Along with the accent— a sound that Silas hadn’t spent much time around and he racked his brain on where to place it. Irish, maybe? The United Kingdom area seemed to be on the right track as his eyes scanned him before catching eye on a tattoo around their collarbone. “Fine,” he agreed as he put on a smile and acted as though he had known this stranger for years, “Sorry, ran a little late tonight. You must not have gotten my text.”

richiesteele​:

@silaskyun​

His shift at the fire station had ended early and Richie was bored out of his goddamn mind. In his free time, he’d normally find himself hiking along a cliffside or cooling off his heated skin in the Mediterranean but the gloomy day had him feeling all types of weird. So, instead, he decided to visit his pal Silas in that strange little Knick Knack store of his because there was nothing more endearing than tiny figurines on a rainy day. The man in question was helping another customer when Richie entered the store so he busied himself with the small porcelain masks on a hook near the door, trying to resist the urge to interrupt the conversation with a flirtatious remark, if only to watch Silas fluster. But he wasn’t so cruel.

Or maybe he was. 

Letting his fingers roam across the mask’s features, Richie pretended to drop it following the other customer’s exit, letting it purposefully clink against another piece of porcelain mid-air before catching it low to the ground. He grinned wide from his squatted position, glancing up to meet Silas’ eyes when the other rushed over to stop the catastrophe, his efforts utterly futile because it had all just been a ploy to get the attention he desired and man, it worked like a charm. “What, you don’t have faith in me? Thought I’d come in here and wreck your store?” Of course Silas would expect that of him since Richie’s behavior was nothing short of chaotic. But, truthfully, he had a soft spot for fragile things and that much was obvious when he slid the mask easily back onto the hook with gentle fingers. “You know, I may have strong hands but I can be delicate too.” 

There was nothing better than the sound of gentle rain drops hitting the rooftop upon waking, bits of sun trying it’s best to leak through the stormy cloud-lines but not enough to bring much into the incubus’s bedroom. He promised himself he would actually wake up slow this time and not rush into the shop to start on a project, giving time for stretching or a cup of tea before opening. Many of the projects that Silas had been working on were in the mix of compilation, but he was always slightly ahead of schedule. This was mostly due to his ability to lose track of time, finding himself with a dim light on in the back of the shop as the morning sun was starting to peak over the horizon. Most people or even beings had the ability to say they enjoyed their job to that degree. Sure, he needed breaks from the business now and again. That’s when he would close up for days on end and wander, but the rainy season in Corinth kept him snug within the city limits.

When he finally arrived, it was commerce as usual. Phone buzzing as various customers came by to pick up their commissioned pieces, hardly giving Silas much time to notice the werewolf’s face emerge inside. Nor had he realized it was well past lunchtime and he had yet to even ingest anything since breakfast. Once waving goodbye to his regular, charcoal irises landed on the dark brown locks and gave a genuine smirk. Quickly, it seemed, Richie had about lost his grip on one of the priceless pieces and he was quick to rush towards him to prevent the disaster. Though that was typical of him, wanting to help right away only to discover it was another one of the wolves games. He patted his arm playfully and gave a snort, “I have yet to see it, so excuse my assumptions. I don’t know many in your line of work to dabble with both.”

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.”

What are three things necessary to your happiness? Family, honesty and creativity.

leightonhaywood‌:

“Interesting line of work.” Useful, probably lucrative considering how full of supernaturals the bay was. Leighton took another sip of his tea as he thought back to his London flat. He really didn’t have anything “magical” aside from maybe a few books about healing magic. Which were kind of pointless, but he liked them anyways. It’s not like he had anything against magic, he was sure if he found something that interested him enough, he’d get it. He’d just never bothered searching for anything. 

“What do you find around here usually?” There were a lot of historical sites, local artisans and such, but he was curious. Corinth was a hub for the supernatural for a reason, surely it was brimming with magical things all over the place. Maybe that was something he should be looking into. “Solely speaking as someone with not much interest in such things.”

“A lot of jewelry,” the cubi started, placing his mind on several gold and copper pieces that had been enchanted for different purposes. As he had learned more about the supernatural world after his transition, Silas realized how much power was in the objects that dangled around everyone’s necks. Charm spells, anointed in magical oils, various stones that could even make a mere human more fortunate and those were the hot ticket items. The only thing that was truly different was the details or the style, which varied from different regions and forged with a contrast of items. “Masks, coins— bronze trinkets. Some of them just seem like completely ordinary things sitting on your grandmother’s hearth, but actually help find magical ingredients. Kind of like a metal detector,” a smile holding, clearly speaking from experience and still enjoyed talking with the client that took it in. An older gentleman whose eyes were not as good as his younger years and paid Silas a little extra just for being polite. “Though the objects I find are just as interesting as the people that seek them, in my experience,” his usual tone, but with a sour punch at the end that the cubi couldn’t quite control. He saw many different types, not just the good side where people cherished the object and it sat on a shelf. No, some lusted for darkness in a way that Silas had never seen— even at war.