sᴜʀ ʟᴀ ʟᴜɴᴇ

Junghwa adjusts the hoodie he’s wearing today and stares ahead. He knows one of the actors in the drama so after acquiring a ticket admission into Gyeonbokgung palace, he waves to his friend briefly and settles off to the side, with a chocolate milk in his hands. of course, he can’t actually taste it too much, so he just enjoys holding it. sure, he dooesn’t expect much from this and as such only sticks around  because he’s amused. since from what he’s heard, apparently it takes place during the early years of the joseon era, so he suppsoes he can watch more to see how (in)accurate everything is. 

however, once filming begins, he makes a step back so that he’s enough out of the way of the equipment and green screens. he’s quietly chuckling to himself, and thankfully it wasn’t that out of the ordinary since he wasn’t totally alone. there’s fans with cameras and a smell of dog hits his nostrils. he honestly doesn’t have a thing against werewolves and he’s totally cool with them but sometimes the unexpected scent throws him off. he looks for the source and notices the other boy coming close to him, still maintaing a distance. junghwa looks to the side where the other has stopped and grins a bit at the question asked. 

“ah, occasionally. i was only allowed to come for special events,” he states, looking over to the scene in front of them, still giggling to himself at the inaccuracies of the court protocols. “ah if i had done that back then, i’d be dead,” he states, pointing a floppy sleeve towards the actions. he doesn’t really hide that he’s a vampire, since he thinks it’s kind of obvious. 

“wouldn’t you like living in a palace?” he asks, with a grin. turning to face the other. 

Special events? in a way, then, not much has changed if the vampire’s returned on the filming date. Maybe it’s nostalgic to him to be around here even if the nature of ceremonies is completely different, although now that Harin is close enough to scrutinize his appearance better, it’s ... laughably dissonant, down to the drink in his hand. (The container claims there’s milk inside, but Harin can only hope that the contents haven’t been replaced with something more, uh, palatable.) 

“To be honest...” His gaze follows the line of the other’s gesture, and he frowns as he tries to piece together what the actor has done wrong. To him, it’s far from obvious, but he also had fairly poor grades in his history exams, so it’s not like they’re working with remotely similar perspectives. “Not really. It’s kind of far from the nearest 7 Eleven, there’s no electricity, and I’d probably get lost. Not really my kind of place.” 

His messy one-bedroom apartment is fine, but that’s probably because it has 21st century accommodations; maybe he’d think differently if he’d grown up in medieval Joseon. Whatever, at least this place is open to the public when he wants a change of scenery (and at least he can get a good 5G signal.) 

The vampire at least seems to be in a good mood, which Harin decides he likes; maybe the secret is to engage them in public spaces like this one while it forces them to behave themselves.  

↳ @feyxillias​

A couple of years ago, Harin had seen a video on the internet of guilty dogs; dogs who had eaten their owners’ furniture or had an accident in the house, and showed their remorse with endearingly sad expressions. He’s always liked dogs, enjoyed the way they’re so earnest and eager to please, but now … ah, now it’s weird to be in a situation where he needs to affect the same pleading look. 

It’s early on a weekend morning when the moon sets, which could be a fortunate thing; past a certain time on a weekday morning, there’d no doubt be more customers who wouldn’t like to see a large wolf lying in the center of the floor amidst the broken remains of the shop window. When Harin’s tail wags nervously, it stirs up some of the glass shards, and he whines as he lays his head down on top of his paws.

It’s the fact that he’s come to his senses that tells him the moon has finally set, but there’s no automatic shift back to human form that occurs with it. That, too, might be good, because while Harin is here lying on the floor in someone’s shop, the clothes he had been wearing yesterday are not. It’s just a pity that he didn’t, in the night’s frenzy, show a little bit of foresight and choose to jump through a department store window instead of whatever clinical kind of place this is. The smell is sterile in a way that doesn’t bring comfort. 

But there’s little time to puzzle over it, because Harin’s ears are pricking up at the sound of footsteps growing nearer to his position. The shop owner? A neighbor? Police?

déjà vu.

She hadn’t met someone new to this part of the world for awhile, was this why she felt a little awkward with the way she was giving away information? She’d never once desired to be a sire, had only drank to feed herself and never would consider the mere thought of turning someone else. Her sire had also not been in the practice of taking on fledglings, something along the lines of not wanting to babysit the older he got. 

Calling her a child had been source of amusement for him and many of his comrads as he’d taken on the role of initiating her to a lot of what vampires were meant and made to do. Some of the history was still lost to her, willingly so. If Hyomi had fallen prey to everything her sire held valuable for vampires, she probably wouldn’t have turned out to be so against the idea of a world where they were recognized as the strongest.

Because her sire was indeed one of those who thought they shouldn’t be living in the shadows, hiding away what they could do, what they were. Extremely radical in his stance of wanting to prove to the world and any other creatures that they were most definitely the most powerfully touched by the fae. All while also of course staying loyal to witches, so he was a bit of a lost hypocrite if you asked her. “219 years and counting. Are you looking forward to not aging like the rest of humanity?” 

They weren’t part of it anymore either. That was the most tantalizing of all prices for those who wished to turn, immortality. A silly fantasy. But she knew that where vampires would never look even a day older after turning, she’d seen some werewolves who did look older than the last time she’d encountered them. Quite half a century or even more than that passing in between each meeting though. In fact, that had only been with one particular werewolf and she hadn’t had the joy of meeting her for quite some time now. 

Hyomi could see the colors of the fair coming into view, quite a few of them. But what gave it away was the slowly changing scent in the air, where human blood and heartbeats would dominate majority of the time, finding the entrance of the fair always felt like finding the mouth of a monster’s lair. It was ominous, it had been overwhelming her first time. So many of them mixing in with the humans, regrouped in one place at once. 

It felt like a beacon, and some days she did wonder if it would burn and take everything it could with it. One day, it was bound to, no? “We’re close, can you feel a difference?” She’d often wondered just how strong of a difference there was between their heightened senses. Derived from wolves as they were, surely some of theirs would be more advanced, more pronounced than hers. Far from her the idea of using him as a test subject for her curiosity, but it was there simmering and she couldn’t quite turn it off. 

Two hundred and nineteen. She’s twice as old as a normal human, in other words, and Harin never knew until now. The thought makes an actual shiver travel down his spine, and he has to fight to keep his expression under control. True, it could be worse than that, but hearing her confirm it is still strange. 

He must seem like an infant to her. Ah, to count from the time he was bitten and turned, though ... he practically is. 

She does raise an interesting point, though. The not aging thing should theoretically buy him time, because he’s looking at a life that’s a lot longer than his initial calculations put it at. Which is cool in some ways, and petrifying in others -- mostly it’s petrifying, because he has human friends that are going to age around him while he doesn’t. He can imagine already that it won’t be fun when their jokes about his good genetics turn into suspicion, how it will eventually necessitate cutting people he cares about out of his life entirely. And that’s to say nothing of the logistical issues, the consideration of which makes him pull a frown even now. 

“Let’s just say I’m not looking forward to trying to keep my driver’s license and my passport up to date,” Harin sighs. And there’s also his military service looming. That keeps him awake at night, even though he has a few years to come up with a plan. (He’ll probably have to fake his own death ... but hey, isn’t that something he’ll need to do sooner or later anyway?) 

It’s a whole series of grim thoughts, so the brightness of the fair ahead is a welcome distraction. Yes, there’s a certain je ne sais quoi; put enough vampires in one place, and of course it will carry a sense of danger, just as Hyomi’s passing had initially raised his instinct. A smell is here, too. It smells of magic and food, blood and iron, amidst the petrol and electricity the city always carries, and as much as that shouldn’t be enticing ... he’d be curious even without her as a guide. The smell is one thing, but how much more will there be to look at? In human form, he still trusts his eyes above his nose. 

he senses the werewolf before he sees him. it’s a strange, unfamiliar combination of the sensation of eyes on him, the fine hairs at the nape of his neck twitching, the faint, but distinct smell riding the otherwise still air of the quiet subway station. there aren’t too many bodies moving in an out of the station at this hour; it’s later than most humans are out, the last trains of the night still traversing tunnels to get to their next stop.

he does not recognize the smell as werewolf right away. he hasn’t been exposed to many during his time as a vampire (though the taste of their blood is vivid in his memory, as is the intoxicating weight of it on his veins, thanks to zihuan), and he can barely differentiate between the scents of other vampires, let alone pick out the rest of fae species in a crowd.

but he does notice the figure nearby, unmoving, staring, and only when kyuhwan turns to face him does he realize the strange scent (human on the surface but canine underneath, pungent, sweet, and strong) is werewolf, and is radiating off of the young man standing feet away.

he should be more wary of strangers, kijung has told him time and time again. but this stranger looks not much older than him, and just as curious. it’s likely they both have questions, curious superhuman newborns dunking their heads under new water for the first time; it never hurts to ask.

“i’m…” he knows what the werewolf means, somehow, when he asks, because if he can smell a werewolf, a werewolf can smell him. he just has to find the right way to phrase it. what was the word jinwoo had used again? “…new,” he answers simply, in spite of the response being loaded with the truth.

“i haven’t been…this…for very long.”

This. 

The boy means something really different, so his reply shouldn’t be flooding Harin with any sense of sympathy. Maybe it should be the opposite, and he should latch on to disgust or anger at the presence of something so opposed to his own nature. But he can’t do that, because as far as he knows, no one becomes this because it’s something they choose. 

If they do, he can only guess that they’re misinformed. That’s worth pitying too. 

"I see.” It does explain the scent, in a way, though Harin’s not knowledgeable enough to begin piecing together why. He’s not even sure he wants to know -- it’s probably enough to accept that a fledgling is different and leave it at that. The explanation is no doubt gruesome anyway, as things about their species tend to be, and who’s to say that the new vampire even knows all the details himself? Learning takes a little more effort than throwing some keywords into Naver. 

Still, stopping the kid long enough to throw out an accusation and nothing else ... that’s just not fair, Harin decides. And even if he’s not curious about the finer points of one scent versus another, there are other things he’s wondering about. ( Who’s turning new vampires, for one. Why, how, how many? ) 

ALSTROEMERIA …pay your muse for something. / send a flower! ❀ / @feywonho / accepting

In retrospect, he’s not sure what possessed him to take up the bet in the first place. Betting games aren’t his thing, and he’s not really a competitive person to want to win just for the sake of winning something. But something about the old vampire’s attitude … it does something to his sense of judgement. He’s never exactly cared if people laugh at him, so it isn’t about that (and Wonho’s not that blunt in his manners, either). Maybe more like a need to prove himself – it’s felt like an uphill climb since their circumstantial meeting.  

Granted, putting fifty thousand won on the line over an arm wrestle might not have been the right venue to try and earn respect.

At least it’s over quickly.

LAVENDER …help your muse relax. / send a flower! ❀ / @feyminjun / accepting

Harin really tries his best not to drive unless he absolutely has to, so when he pulls up his car outside Minjun’s café, it’s with a certain kind of determination. Since he’s come to know the other young man, he feels like it’s been a lot of take on his part, not enough returning of favors; after all, what can he really offer to someone who has exponentially more of the amount of experience and knowledge he has?

Money and good online reviews for the shop have been the brunt of his offerings so far. But it helps his options when the weather takes a turn for the better. So Harin fires off a text message in advance to warn Minjun that he should either close or leave someone else in charge of the café for a few hours, because they’re going out.  

     [text: 민준]  and wear comfortable shoes.

It’s just that Minjun had seemed tired the last time they spoke. Tired, a little frayed around the edges, visibly tense … in need of a break, probably, and it’s Harin’s estimation that something more ambitious than a walk alongside the river would be more rejuvenating to him.

ANEMONE …abandon your muse. / send a flower! ❀ / @feyyena / accepting ( on pause until i catch up! )

If there’s one thing that Harin has been particularly slow to grasp, it’s the way that wolves have territory. Sure, humans aren’t really all that different at the end of the day; no one wants to see someone they haven’t invited inside their home, after all, and on a large scale, there’s borders around countries for a reason. But where werewolves draw boundaries ... that doesn’t necessarily map on to the same lines that humans create, and so it’s easy to stray somewhere where he’s not welcome. 

Most of the time it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s just bad luck that gets him noticed this time, or maybe someone else is out looking specifically for trouble.  

Harin hasn’t been paying attention, exactly; his attention has been on Yena as they walk, on the casual conversation they’re exchanging. So it takes him a few minutes to realize that there’s someone following them, and a few more minutes after that to piece together why. Ah, another pack calls this area home, don’t they? Do they think he’s here to spy or something like that? It’s not like he’s going to try anything alone, even if he cared about some kind of pack rivalry. So they’re stupid if they think ... 

It’s a lot of questions, and Harin realizes he’s missed half of what Yena has been saying. His steps trail to a halt, and he tries not to make it too obvious that he’s glancing over his shoulder. He hasn’t actually decided what he’s going to do yet, whether it’s worth trying to confront the other or if it’s better to act oblivious, but either way ... it’s probably better if he parts ways with Yena. If someone’s trying to pick a fight, she doesn’t need to be involved. 

SNAPDRAGON … lie to your muse. / send a flower! ❀ / @hyomifey / accepting ( on pause until i catch up! )

[ 2017 ]

There are two negative results that follow from Harin’s parents visiting. The first is that it necessitates cleaning the house he’s sharing with another university student (and by cleaning, he generally means pushing things underneath furniture and hoping they won’t notice, but even that takes a few hours out of the day).  

The second problem is the amount of food his mother insists on bringing. First it’s the bags of produce, bags full of vegetables he hasn’t seen in their natural, unprocessed state in an admittedly long time; then the meals she’s prepared, neatly packaged and stacked one on top of the other (there’s even a few tucked into her purse, he learns). And she’s not dissuaded by any of his pleas that it’s enough, it’s okay, you don’t need to do all of this. 

Not that he’s not grateful, but realistically, with the schedules the two of them in this house keep, it’s going to go to waste. Unless ... 

“We could give it to the neighbors?” 

So that’s how Harin ends up ringing Hyomi’s doorbell with a sizeable portion of samgyetang in hand. He’s ... uh. Well. He’s even thought of the perfect excuse for what he’s doing with this. An excuse that’s going to sound a little bit cooler than his mother giving him emergency rations because she’s afraid he’ll starve if left alone for too long. 

SUNFLOWER …help your muse. / send a flower! ❀ / @feyminki / accepting!

A dog's nose, Harin has learned, has somewhere around forty times the power of a human's. A werewolf in human form can't exactly boast the same extraordinary detection, since this way he's lacking some of the physical parts that would be necessary, but he's definitely been sharper these days than before. Maybe it's just being more attuned to smells now, knowing how much they matter.

It's kind of a weird twist of events that leads to Harin helping someone clean out their parents' attic over the weekend, carrying boxes out to the street and into a car or a bin in the alley. A lot of the boxes smell musty, but it's the case of books that's the worst. They smell like mold; like a forest after too much rain. And they end up in the back of Harin's car, because his friend won't let him throw them out even as they refuse to take them themselves.

Fortunately, there's Naver search to solve the problem. A list of used book stores. Ah, isn’t that one ...?   

So on Monday morning, Harin enters Minki's bookshop with the cardboard box, all faded printed logos and tears around the seams, and sets it down unceremoniously on the front desk. There's a little cloud of dust particles that leaps up and drifts through the air, visible in the beam of sunlight from the nearest window.

↳ @feyminjun

To be honest, the shop is the type of place that Harin wouldn't have spared more than a passing glance towards a few years ago. It's cute; but there's a type of person he imagines it appeals to. People that enjoy reading books while they nurse a cup of coffee, people in cardigans who adjust their glasses when they talk. On none of these accounts would Harin fit in.

But on the recommendation of a friend, he's learned something else about the customer base--something else about the shop, too, and the services that the owner offers. In retrospect, it makes sense; and the more that Harin visits, the more that he can see how much the cafe suits Minjun. (It's funny to think of him brewing coffee like it's a potion, too.)

But speaking of potions ... in the basement of the shop, Harin is trying not to let his nervousness spill over into touching the various interesting objects he sees down there. It's amazing to think that here amidst the magical items might be a way to ease the pain of turning to wolf form, a way to keep his wits about him rather than letting an animal side reign superior every time.

PEONY …accuse your muse. / send a flower! ❀ / @feykyuhwan / accepting!

It’s always at nighttime that things take a turn for the strange. It must be something traditional and related to the limits of human eyesight; having something to compare it to now, Harin realizes how blind ordinary people really are. What was it like before they even had streetlights to help them? Relying on the moon, on flickering fires … he’s not envious, but then again, it’s not like modern technology did anything to help him in his hour of need, either.

Outside the subway station, above the general unpleasantness of gasoline and cigarette smoke, he smells vampire. But there’s something unusual about it, in a way that he can’t place, otherwise he’d be inclined to ignore it. This late, there aren’t many choices to narrow it down, and Harin’s gaze settles on the kid.

Oh; that’s always a shame to see. He looks young. Not that there’s ever a good time to be changed into something brutal, but it bears more of an echo of a life cut short this way. (Then again, appearances do deceive. Likelier than not, he’s older than Harin. Maybe by a few hundred years. There’s just no way to tell without asking, and why should it be his business?)

Harin’s steps have stalled, and he’s been rooted in place long enough that it’s surely obvious by now where is attention is fixed. Less so why it’s fixed, but he imagines that the other has picked up on the same inhuman cues. That’s always nice; it spares some of the need for introductions.

SNAPDRAGON … lie to your muse. / send a flower! ❀ / @feyseoyeon / accepting! 

They pick the wrong afternoon to meet in the park. It’s one of those unhappily overcast days, flat and gray, and uncharacteristically cool for this time of year. But Harin is eternally optimistic: it doesn’t look like rain.  

It doesn’t look like rain until five minutes into their walk, when the first raindrop splashes off the tip of his nose. The second one breaks against the lapel of his leather jacket, and the third, fourth, and fifth come in quick succession as he blinks upwards at the clouds. Why…? The timing’s really cruel. Ten minutes ago, and they could’ve easily escaped to a café instead of being caught out here with the trees offering really sparse cover.  

He hasn’t brought an umbrella. Ah, shit – does Seoyeon have one? Is her jacket weatherproof? Maybe he should offer her his own anyway, because there’s a chill in the wind as it picks up and carries the rain to them. With a shrug of his shoulders, he tugs the jacket off, and offers it her way.