p l a y pause stop

ryu slides his hands into his pockets, tipping his head back as he walks along one of the familiar paths that wind around the outer edges of caelum. it’s a beautiful day, he thinks, it’s a beautiful day and honestly it doesn’t even register as such in his mind. he’s sure there’s some part of him that realizes it’s sunny and is thus rejuvenated or put to rights but it must be so very small so as to practically not exist.  for him nothing is out of the ordinary, really, though perhaps it is a few degrees warmer than previously common and without the clouds he can feel heat rise from the pavement where the sun has been shining all day. honestly, though, the most noticeable change is the sheer number of people outside - and he’d hoped for a second that they’d at least be doing something interesting but no, apparently all they’re good for is giggling and throwing frisbees. jumping onto one of the stone walls that line the path, he perches gingerly - crouching to keep his center of gravity low so as to keep his balance. with a soft sigh, he starts allowing air to flow past him - creating small wind cells in order to keep himself cool, before pulling small stones out of his pocket. tucking his head against his free hand, he absently levitates the stones with pockets of air, twisting and turning to keep them aloft.  it’s practice, honestly - something as fine and precise as manipulating small stones that must be done simultaneously with some mundane background task without faltering in either. just brain training, he thinks - his mind and his control are his most powerful weapons and he enjoys honing them every chance he gets. he lets the stones drop into his hand as he sees someone approach, and he raises an eyebrow, asking rather brusquely, “what do you want?”  caerain

it is in that odd hour of the evening when the sky is already dark and dinner has already passed and yet it isn’t late, it isn’t night, it’s just...deepening, transitioning, flowing from blue to purple to black. ryu tilts his head left, back and round again, eyes falling shut as he rolls out the tension from his shoulders after having sat in the same chair for over 3 hours. having finished all his homework, he summarily straightens his desk, standing smoothly to survey his room with a discerning eye.  there’s nothing wrong, or out of place - but something feels off and he can’t quite place it. there’s just something...perhaps the closet door isn’t closed fully or the bed isn’t straight or the covers too lumpy for his liking but no that had ceased to bother him long ago, no, this must be something else. it takes a moment until he realizes what is missing; noise. It is quiet enough for him to feel as though it were the dead of night and yet his body knows it’s barely late enough for sleep to be an acceptable option. the discord rings at him, and he groans quietly, deciding to go out and just do something. anything. he slips out of his room, the cool air of the hallway soothing over his skin as his feet pad over the carpeted floor, fingers trailing against the walls. absently, he decides he should probably make some tea - the process is calm in its own way, and he’d rather not sleep for a few hours yet. turning into the kitchen, he is met with what is honestly, a familiar sight at this point - it has been quite a few years after all. “Hello, Aro, fancy meeting you here,” he greets, stepping towards the cupboards, “I just came in to make some tea. How are you?”  aroxcae

caeyong​

THISTLE: already done! 

THISTLE: already done! 

He doesn’t have many friends. The closest things he could have to a friend all reside at the academy. Though there were a few boys and girls from the orphanage that he’d associated with - the population composition changed so often that rarely were there lasting connections (nor did he particularly feel the need to form any).There was one boy, though. He wonders if they’re dead, sometimes. He does not particularly miss their company. 

They say that scent can wrap incredibly tightly along with a memory - so much so that a single hint of it can bring a rush of images to your mind, otherwise unprompted. Ryu will never forget those smells - spilled wine and cigarette ash for one, gasoline and burning rubber the other. 

Yes. For the most prominent example of this, please refer to the above. It could’ve been an accident - should’ve been an accident, honestly, but to him it was something he did with his own hands. He never wanted to do it yet...there is little regret. 

Sage : already done! 

There was a boy, at the orphanage - a young boy, the same age as he, and they were so very bright. Warm and kind and their light fell upon him more than anyone else. Of course in the end they fell and he burned. 

It would probably be to his mother (though whether or not she’d actually receive it remains a philosophical / theological debate that he’d really rather not get in to) to say thank you, I wouldn’t be who I am if you hadn’t been the way you were.