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:
She watched him move a step ladder to pick the masks from the wall, bending over them once he placed them both down in front of her. “That sounds great,” she said, though she was a bit distracted by the masks. Kiera wasn’t necessarily the best person at making decisions, and it showed again in this moment. After another moment of hesitation, she picked one of the masks up and held it in front of her face. “Do you think she’ll like this more–”, she switched it out for the other, “or this one?”
Both had their own unique style and Silas could see how the young woman was having difficulty choosing. One was dramatic, bright, and seemed to have a lot of personality. While the other was calmer, cooler in coloring, but gave off a ethereal feel. The cubi turned his head slightly as she head each mask up and tried to gauge which one was a better fit. “Tell me a little more about her?” he eventually asked, not wanting to make the wrong choice when it came to a gift, “That might help.”
Knick Knack always attracted many different kinds of people, mostly because the incubus tried to cater to all walks of life. It was the same for anyone looking to sell their artwork and after all these years, Silas had seen just about everything. He noticed each detail and could tell when extra care was taken to design the piece. “The mark of a true craftsman,” he smiled, bits of exhaustion cutting through his tone and moved the ring closer to his eye. Only a few days had passed since the scale had been destroyed, though no matter how much he slept— it just never was quite enough. Running the shop was the only thing pulling him out of bed in the morning, but his strength was coming back slowly. Charcoal hues pulled back as shimmers of the stone danced across his warm expression, “So, what do you think. I have a couple open spots up front that can be personalized to your liking and we can feature your favorites in the window?”
@lenavidalis
Drunk humans were always effortless. Especially late in a town with tourists around every corner, unfamiliar with their surroundings and all too trusting. And Silas was starving. After almost a week of not feeding, the cubi would have tried for just about anyone but this at least took less energy. Which, if he was being honest, didn’t have much to spare. The trek just to get to Styx felt like decades and each group of foreigners had him salivating. With a quick slip, Silas could cause one of them to stagger far away enough from their friends that they wouldn’t have noticed for blocks. That could give him plenty of time, but his feet kept hitting the pavement forward.
A small line still hung outside of the club, one of which Silas knew he would never have to wait in and couldn’t help a snicker. He gave the bouncer a gentle nod before bypassing the threshold into the booming melodies. A regular at his shop, his wife had requested a custom bookshelf not even a year back and the access had helped Silas immensely. Strokes of red and purple added an aura to the cubi that in daylight, he frankly didn’t possess. Maybe it also had something to do with the hunger and he quickly found himself perched at the bar top, scanning the crowd before requesting a cocktail. It was a simple cover, but that was all it took for most humans to think he was simply one of them.
@kasandrarosales
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.
melissacoopers:
The walk from the Garden to Knick Knack was a familiar one, usually made monthly by a restless woman, looking to once again rearrange the things in her shop like it meant anything. It was something to keep her hands busy and her mind clear, at least.
What had caught her eye was a charcoal figure of a woman, faceless, with flowers at her feet. Melissa was drawn to figures of women, something she was sure Silas had picked up at this point. “Just the usual, apparently, Silas,” she called to him, looking over her shoulder at the familiar face. There was something about the quiet of the shop and of Silas that helped calm her normally buzzing mind. “Time to redecorate again. Things have been getting dull. How have you been here? I still offer my services to help you rearrange too if you like.” Really, she just wanted to poke around his things even more than she did as a customer. Silas felt a bit like a puzzle to her sometimes.
More often than not, Silas was one to refuse help when it came to such minimal things as his shop. He knew that it could use a more delicate touch, a fresh mind that hadn’t had to do the daily things that a shop like this required, but the cubi still refused. Melissa had become more than just a regular to him, but someone he actually enjoyed as far as company goes. She never seemed to pry for more information and was just generally curious about the life of each trinket before reaching its spot on the shelf. Maybe that was part of the reason Silas still refused. He hardly wanted to slip up on what he truly was, but a different feeling struck him. The feeling of being rude, the thought that it might be even stranger not to allow a kind offer. Especially when it had been given half a dozen times. “Things have been pleasant,” he answered casually, “Weather has been fairly forgiving during my hunts and I couldn’t really ask for more.” For a moment he skirted around the topic of rearranging, trying to find the right words to accept her offer without sounding at least a little desperate. “I can smell spring, which I assume is the direct cause of your own refresh? I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have a little help with my own.”
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.