U Know What Makes Me Cry..... That One Van Gogh Quote About Life Changing For The Better..... “many

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?”

Yesterday’s fleamarket adventure

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.

gabrielxnikephoros‌:

Gabriel wasn’t quite sure he believed the other’s excuse, but he had not reason not to take Silas’ words at face value. The other really hadn’t lied to him before, so he didn’t think Silas would start to now. Frowning, even the lights of the carnival couldn’t distract Gabriel enough to focus on what was being said. “I guess…the rosemary tea. It reminds me of how my mother would make it.” He gave a half smile, pointing towards one of the booths, “You want a drink?”

“Definitely,” came from the incubus’ lips a little faster than he originally anticipated, but the exhaustion had him more than off beat. His usual filter that allowed him to actually think before speaking was a bit mangled and all the commotion had Silas’ sensory overloaded. Normally he didn’t drink much other than the occasional sake or cocktail when the moment called for it, charcoal hues bouncing to the booth before heading over with Gabriel, “You aren’t looking too hot yourself, what’s got you anxious?”

“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”

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.”

giovannixrusso‌:

A festival. Perhaps Gio might have deemed it quaint or even a bit droll were the streets not positively littered with half-naked citizens. A tribute to Dionysus indeed. Unfortunately, he hadn’t come to partake in the exuberant festivities so much as he had to undertake some recon whilst senses fell prey to inebriation. “Silas, isn’t it? The owner of Knick Knack? Don’t worry, I’m not here to sell you something. Quite the opposite.” @silaskyun

Gently moving his mask upon his forehead, Silas gave the man a quizzical look as stated his name and purpose. It wasn’t odd that he had at least heard of him or the shop, but the lead into the conversation had the incubus put on edge. Though, he had to admit that the last few weeks had already placed him there— “Yeah? Then what exactly can I help you with?”

I like observing people. I like looking at things.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out  (via slytherinwritess)

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.