to the sea

at first, tilting the teacup at certain angles makes its whorls appear like waves crashing against some shore. but if you stare at it longer, the waves begin to take a life of their own, entrancing, cresting and crashing then curling back where they came from, only to repeat the cycle.

the whorls are in your head now. you can hear them: the sound of waves, the distant cry of birds, and then finally the beginning of your god's melody. as it builds, so does the weight of the teacup in your hands, until it feels like it's overflowing.

there is still time to put it down. but isn't that your god, calling to you, humming so sweetly for you to look within?

PROMPT. do you peer into the teacup, return it, or destroy it?

haeun is drawn to the sea and the sea calls to her every chance it gets. this much is fact: she knows this, has been told by more people than just her mother. she’s learnt to avoid the crashing of waves, the deep blue of the ocean. and yet: she sees the teacup and she can’t help but pick it up. is drawn to it, like she doesn’t have a choice in the matter at all - her breath catches when she cradles it in her hands that evening.

she puts the teacup on her shelf and at night she lies awake, blinking at the ceiling. it’s in her head now, and she’s afraid of it. but come morning, when the sun rises and with it her sanity, she will feel better about it. or so she tells herself.

and thus she completes her routine the next day with trepidation brewing in her stomach. wakes up, fixes her hair, washes her face. puts the kettle on the stove and reaches for the tin of loose leaf tea she keeps in the kitchen cabinet. it’s at the last possible moment that she reaches for the cup, and then she promptly gets lost in it. the waves, in the cup, in her head. she can smell salt in the hair and hears wind in her ears. it’s a sign, she knows this. her throat is dry. she's never been able to resist her god, not when they're so close, calling to her so desperately. she would be irresponsible if she did. perhaps she's needed for a greater purpose, to aid them heal the world.

“are you needing help with anything? i stopped by with some things from the port— there’s so many merchants selling new types of salves and healing solutions with the spring summons, so i brought some for you all to try along with the temple’s normal requests.”

the morning starts slow. haeun sits at her kitchen table and braids her hair in-between bites of breakfast; he drinks a cup of tea with much-needed caffeine and opens the windows to let in fresh air from outside. in the bathroom mirror, a young woman stares back at her. dark hair, dark eyes. skin that, sometimes, seem to shimmer a little translucent. her teeth are the main giveaway that haeun isn’t human: sharp, like a predator’s.

there’s the quiet bustle in the streets that indicates the workday starting, but she’s early enough to avoid the crowds. haeun turns left behind the bakery she frequents, and only has to wait a few moments for the cat to appear. they meet every day; haeun scritches it behind the ears and the cat might follow her down the street, running between her legs and pawing at her dresses. haeun’s always been better with animals than people, and these small daily exchanges do wonders for her mood. the cat is predictable when humans aren’t. at least, like clockwork, she can expect that it’ll appear for some easily-given affection.

today the cat doesn’t tag along, but that’s alright. haeun arrives at the temple early. prepares herself for her shift, then does a quick round around the complex - there aren’t any news, but they could probably restock on some of their herbal medicine. it’s looking like it’ll be a slow day, but that’s a good thing in her occupation. better she sit twiddling her thumbs than be too busy to breathe.

seohan shows up later in the day, after haeun’s dirtied her hands with blood twice and has washed them of it many more times. he seems to be in a good mood, the kind of contentment you reach when you’re in tune with the world. haeun stops in her tracks.

“i can’t complain.” in truth, haeun doesn’t quite know what being well is meant to entail. she smiles back, with teeth. glances down at the box he’d been carrying. eye contact has been difficult lately, for reasons she hasn’t been able to parse entirely.

hi everyone!! i'm vi (she/her) and super excited to be here and introduce you to my girl haeun! she's a very conceptual muse and due to undergo a lot of development, so she's still very malleable - we'll see where it goes with her. all important details are under the cut, please feel to reach out - or hit the lil' heart and i will (slowly, we all know what tumblr's been like...). i prefer plotting on discord, but tumblr ims work too. can't wait to talk to you all!

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