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NIX ; The Hierophant

❝ The plan is perfect in every way. Everyone where they need to be, at exactly the right moment, with exactly the right smile. You have moved and manipulated the situation, but did you remember to put yourself in the correct position? You, after all, are still a player in the game - whoever thinks they control the pieces still has to make the next move eventually. Whoever is playing the game is playing against an opponent. Ensure that they have not played better than you. ❞

◦ ☾—*:･ﾟ◦⇢ with NIX acquired from ✫                     ⇢ @redemptioninterlude

          ⇢ Taking  in  strangers  had  always  been  a  staple  within  the  coffee  shop,  welcoming  all  sorts  of  faces  and  different  types  of  people,  ghoul  or  not,  a  place  to  stay  when  need  be.  NIX  had  grown  used  to  never  being  sure  who  was  in  the  building,  and  what  sort  of  powers  they  possessed.  They’d  gotten  used  to  seeing  faces  they  had  no  idea  about  walking  out  of  rooms  and  into  common  areas.  And  yet  this,  this  was  something  they  had  no  idea  how  to  handle.

          ⇢ Now,  ghouls  aren’t  able  to  digest  alcohol  any  better  than  any  other  human  food  or  drink  -  aside  from  coffee,  of  course.  But  NIX  had  gotten  good  at  hiding  their  disgust  as  they  swallowed  it,  letting  their  cringe  come  off  as  a  shiver  from  the  burning  liquid  in  their  throat  and  pretending  to  fit  in.  They  were  used  to  faking  it,  they  were  GOOD  AT  FAKING  IT.  All  they  had  to  do  was  make  sure  to  throw  it  up  before  it  absorbed,  right?  Easier  said  than  done.

          ⇢ NIX  had  lost  themselves  within  the  chatter,  getting  distracted  and  genuinely  having  a  good  time.  By  the  time  they’d  made  it  to  the  bathroom  to  get  rid  of  the  putridness  in  their  stomach,  the  liquor  had  already  begun  to  seep  into  their  blood.  They  felt  lightheaded  and  seasick  -  was  this  what  it  was  like  being  drunk?  And  now  here  they  were  -  the  next  morning,  having  SOOKHEE  ask  such  ridiculous  questions  as  they  lounged  on  her  sofa.

              ☾ * /   being off duty for so long had begun to take its toll on abel, the constant worry of not being able to get his hands dirty doing something waning him down until he was an anxious mess in even the comfort of his own home, laying on his couch with leftover food still staining paper plates on his coffee table like bruises on an ego that wasn’t even that great to begin with. he was happy to get calls, happy to hear that his partner was on holiday break for the sake of visiting his sister in seattle but at the same time he was terribly lonely and without lance, he couldn’t be deployed. he had no credit for the time he’d spent beneath him despite its length or vigor in the art and learning how to advance in the detective work ladder to eventually earn the title himself, and thus here he was moping around in the corner booth of a cafe as if it wasn’t meant for multiple people and the space wasn’t wasted by just one man in an oversized sweatshirt and a beanie – after all he was lacking a lot of his observation skills right now anyway; it wasn’t as if he were aware of his existence or really looking to become so.

              ☾ * /   the very atmosphere was slightly sickening to him, but he had taken it in as a symbol of being without purpose rather than anything actually wrong. he needed to get out of his house and breath in some fresh air even if it burned his lungs and made him feel terribly seen and horribly judged for his state even if it wasn’t entirely visible. after all, he hadn’t drank any of his mint tea yet despite having ordered and received it over ten minutes ago now and instead had been using the mug as more of a hand warmer than its true purpose, shuffling it between his palms as if it contained poison and he was too awkward to claim it so. he was, without a doubt, in a state of hopelessness that made him look messy and unkempt and as sad as a child without presents and returning to the tree in the morning with cookies still in tact and no trace of the big fat man they called santa ever having visited. what a wonderful and merry christmas ! he was having the joy of his life.

◦ ☾—*:･ﾟ◦⇢ @pollvtedtime​​​​​​ ;       ft. NIX

          ⇢ The  day  had  already  proven  to  be  one  of  unexpected  encounters,  beginning  with  the  unannounced  visit  of  a  group  of  ghouls  seeking  refuge,  one,  naturally,  badly  injured.  They’d  then  shaken  off  a  few  Dove  officers  that  had  strolled  into  the  shop,  giving  their  best  Hollywood  smile  and  sending  them  on  their  way  with  complimentary  biscuits  for  their  troubles.  By  the  time  the  afternoon  had  rolled  around,  NIX  was  feeling  spent.  They  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  retire  to  their  room,  and  let  the  waves  of  rest  carry  them  into  a  more  peaceful  place.  And  yet...

          ⇢ This  man  was  rather  odd.  He’d  been  sitting  alone  for  a  long  time,  eyes  unfocused  and  heart  beating  faster  than  it  should  have  for  the  relaxed  atmosphere  of  the  shop.  ❝  Have  you  checked  on  the  man  at  table  C?  ❞  They’d  asked  JIHYUN,  voice  hushed  and  only  mildly  concerned.

          ⇢ ❝  No,  why  would  I?  ❞  Her  response  was,  as  always,  blunt.  ❝  He  looks  fine  to  me.  Besides,  guy’s  giving  me  the  creeps.  ❞

His palm bleeds. His mind wanders. Cường, lured by those ghostly whispers, hasn't much the will to quash their allure. To stave it. To run. Instead, the café beckons darkly to him, tempestuously, and he enters despite its closing hours. And suddenly, so suddenly, there's cinnamon in the shadows, and the weight of a stare with the smell of his blood. Potent blood. Strong. Ah. "I need your restroom," Cường greets, turning. His hand dribbles; the rose crate that snagged him rests outside. You– "You wouldn't deny a customer, would you?"

◦ ☾—*:･ﾟ◦⇢ @phantombs​​​​​ ;       ft. NIX

          ⇢ The  evening  hours  had  always  been  some  of  NIX’s  favourites.  The  shop  was  quiet,  empty  despite  the  still  unlocked  doors.  RIN  had  long  since  retired  upstairs,  going  about  his  childish  comforts  of  watching  TV  or  playing  video  games.  OZZIE  was  sitting  at  one  of  the  tables,  earphones  in  and  scribbling  in  a  notebook  as  his  nightly  ritual  of  making  sure  the  police  scanners  stayed  off  their  tails.  If  one  listened  closely  they’d  be  able  to  hear  HIKARU  and  JIHYUN  in  the  basement  --  sawing,  dissecting,  cutting.  It  was  a  job  too  gruesome  for  most,  but  the  two  had  enough  experience  to  make  the  work  look  easy.  As  for  NIX,  they  were  behind  the  counter  of  the  bartop,  polishing  mugs  and  hand-grinding  fresh  beans  for  the  morning.  They’d  noticed  the  smell  first.

          ⇢ Even  before  the  bell  above  the  door  had  rung,  their  eyes  were  fixated  on  the  newcomer.  The  smell  was  unmistakable,  giving  away  that  this  person  not  only  was  not  a  ghoul,  but  most  certainly  wasn’t  human  --  or,  not  any  sort  of  human  NIX  had  come  across  before,  at  least.  And  while  it  wasn’t  wholly  offputting  to  the  palate,  it  certainly  was  cause  for  investigation.  Their  eyebrows  furrowed,  having  long  lost  their  instinctual  urge  to  attack  on  sight,  and  they  set  down  the  mug  they’d  been  shining  before  gracefully  making  their  way  around  the  bar.

It wasn’t often that Ryker got to spend time like this with other people, he didn’t have too many close friends and he wasn’t the best in big groups so he tended to stick to himself. The night with Rin had been fun, and he forgot how much he did like having company, given that it was the right company. The other boy didn’t make him feel like he was awkward or uncomfortable to be around so he rather enjoyed himself. And maybe it was the alcohol flowing through his veins but Ryker felt more bold than usual, as if he couldn’t make any mistakes. Or if he did, he wouldn’t care too much, at least not until the morning when he’s sure he would regret everything. 

This time when he feels the others breath fan out across his face, Ryker slowly peeks his eyes open and notices out of the corner of his eye that Rin is now laying on his side facing him. Under normal circumstance he would’ve definitely freaked out, but for some reason he thinks that it’s a good idea to mimic the action and so before his mind can talk him out of it, his body is already moving of it’s own accord. 

“Are there rules…? I haven’t shared a bed with anyone other than… my ex.” Bites down on his lip, voice going quiet as he speaks, feeling like even a whisper was thunderous in the proximity of their faces. “It’s your bed so you get to make the rules. If you want we can put pillows between us..?” There’s a slight hint of hope in his voice that the other would say no, but he wants to respect his boundaries as well. Fingers grasp onto the blanket between them, blinking softly at the form in front of him, only able to make out the outline of Rin’s features in the dark. A yawn escapes from Ryker’s lips and once again his body is moving without him realizing it, shifting ever so slightly closer to the other. 

◦ ☾—*:･ﾟ◦⇢ @intothevcid​​​​ ;       ft. RIN

          ⇢ Everything  about  this  felt  so...  new.  RIN  had  never  had  a  friend  before.  Honestly,  he  hadn’t  even  met  anyone  near  his  own  age  until  he  was  in  his  teens,  and  even  then  it  was  only  in  passing.  The  family  he’d  learned  to  love  at  the  coffee  shop  was,  honestly,  the  only  real  social  interaction  he’d  ever  known  outside  of  the  passing  conversations  with  certain  kinder  workers  at  the  facility  where  he  was  raised.

          ⇢ He  pushed  that  idea  from  his  mind,  refusing  to  let  himself  spiral  into  some  traumatic  memory  as  he  did  so  many  nights,  alone  in  the  dark  with  nothing  but  his  thoughts  to  keep  him  occupied.  Instead  he  turned  his  attention  fully  to  the  male  before  him,  watching  as  he  shifted  to  mirror  his  posture.  Heightened  senses  could  hear  the  rapid  pace  of  RYKER’s  heart,  and  he  was  momentarily  thankful  that  the  other,  most  likely,  could  not  hear  his  own.  His  face  felt  hot,  and  he  was  sure  if  he  were  to  raise  his  hands  from  where  they  braced  the  pillow  under  his  head,  they  would  feel  clammy.

          cherry  catches  sight  of  someone  sitting  further  away.  he  looks  different  in  proper  lighting  ,  but  xe’s  pretty  sure  he’s  the  same  person  from  earlier  that  nix  was  with.  for  a  second  ,  xe  considers  going  over  and  thanking  him     (and  apologizing  to  him     )      personally  for  what  happened  back  there  ,  but  he  looks  busy  doing  something  more  important  than  silly  introductions.

          attention  turns  to  what  he  assumes  is  the  kitchen  do  to  the  noise  ,  but  he  ignores  it  in  favor  of  responding  to  nix  with  a  grin.  cherry  makes  xer  way  to  the  stools  he’s  directed  to  ,  taking  the  one  that’s  right  across  from  nix.  elbows  rest  on  the  countertop  in  front  of  him  to  prop  his  chin  up  as  he  curiously  watches  them  move  around.     “    yes  ,please.  i’d  love  coffee.     ”     by  some  miracle  he’d  discovered  that  coffee’s  able  to  satiate  his  hunger  for  some  time.  often  ,  coffee  is  the  only  thing  that’s  getting  him  through  the  week.

“     i  have  a  lot  ,actually.     ”where  does  cherry  even  start  asking    ?     the  last  thing  she  wants  is  to  scare  nix  off  by  a  barrage  of  questions  that  she  doubts  they  can  even  answer.     “     are  ,  like  ,  all  of  you     —     ”     voice  drops  to  a  volume  that’s  closer  to  a  stage  whisper  than  anything  else.     “ghouls     ?”     he  doesn’t  give  them  even  a  second  to  respond  before  he  continues  ,  talking  a  little  faster  now.     “     and  you  kept  mentioning  doves.  what’s  that     ?     ‘cause  ,  like  ,  i  know  i’m  dumb,  but  i’m  not  dumb  enough  to  think  you  mean  the  actual  birds.     ”     eyes  widen  a  little  as  xe  leans  forward.     “     unless  you  do  mean  the  birds     ?     also  ,  what  did  you  do  with  the  bodies     ?”     finger  points  in  ozzie’s  direction  ,  but  eyes  remain  trained  on  nix.     “     he  took  them  somewhere  ,  right     —what’s  he  doing  right  now  ,  by  the  way     —     ?     does  this  happen  a  lot  ,  because  you  seemed  to  have  everything  under  control.  better  than  i  would  have,  anyway.     ”     cherry  only  stops  talking  to  catch  xer  breath.  there’s  a  faint  blush  rising  to  xer  cheeks  ,  realizing  that  xer  questions  have  turned  into  a  ramble  that  xe’s  not  sure  nix  was  able  to  follow.     “     sorry…  i  just  haven’t  seen  anyone  who’s  like  me.     ”     cue  a  slightly  nervous  laugh  as  xe  tries  to  let  the  embarrassment  wash  off.

◦ ☾—*:･ﾟ◦⇢ @partghoul​​​ ;       ft. NIX

          ⇢ There  was  a  momentary  pause  as  NIX  watched  CHERRY  assess  the  situation,  eyes  moving  from  OZZIE,  to  the  door  to  the  kitchen,  before  finally  settling  on  them.  They  could  sense  the  anxious  curiosity  the  younger  had,  and  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  assure  xer  that  xe  was  safe  in  this  space.  But  that  was  better  shown  than  said,  so  instead  they  opted  to  give  another  warm  smile.

          ⇢ The  sudden  rambling  caused  the  smile  to  grow  further,  an  enamored  sort  of  amusement  rising  inside  of  them  as  they  listened  to  the  questions.  It  had  been  a  long  time  since  someone  was  so  doe-eyed  and  innocent  to  everything  --  perhaps  since  they’d  adopted  RIN  into  the  circle,  even.  It  brought  out  the  parental  instinct  from  within  them,  causing  their  heart  to  flutter.

          ⇢ They  went  to  work  starting  the  coffee,  freshly  ground  beans  pungent  in  their  aroma  from  within  the  french  press,  a  complex  process  made  easy  under  the  guidance  of  their  well  trained  hands.  They  were  known  for  their  coffee,  after  all,  and  the  care  that  they  put  into  each  and  every  cup.  Perhaps  it  was  one  of  their  passions,  or  perhaps  they  simply  enjoyed  seeing  other  people  content.  Either  way,  they’d  spent  a  long  time  perfecting  their  process,  and  by  now  it  was  an  art  form  to  watch.

          ⇢ ❝  We’re  all  ghouls,  yes.  I’m  assuming  by  your  eyes  you  weren’t  born  this  way,  right?  At  least,  not  fully?  ❞  They  paused,  looking  over  at  her  for  a  moment  before  going  back  to  work.  ❝  Dove  is  the  codename  we  use  for  the  CCG,  the  human  organization  created  to  track  down  and  kill  ghouls.  You  can  tell  one  by  the  silver  briefcase  they  carry,  that’s  where  they  keep  their  weapon.  ❞  They  set  the  fresh  cup  of  coffee  down  in  front  of  CHERRY  and  smiled,  then  turned  their  attention  to  OZZIE  and  spoke  in  a  louder  tone.  ❝  Hey  OZ,  c’mere  for  a  sec.  ❞

          ⇢ OZZIE  looked  up  at  the  sound,  taking  out  an  earbud  and  giving  a  lopsided,  golden  retriever-esque  smile  before  standing,  and  sauntering  over.  ❝  ‘Sup?  ❞

          ⇢ ❝  Meet  our  new  guest.  This  is  CHERRY.  He  wants  to  know  what  you  did  with  the  bodies.  ❞

          ⇢ There  was  something  undeniably  pitiful  about  the  man  standing  there,  moreso  a  ghost  than  a  human  being,  meat  so  obviously  clinging  to  bone  as  though  it  were  the  last  wall  of  a  great  castle  around  his  steady  beating  heart,  ready  to  give  in  and  weep  at  the  smallest  breath  in  its  direction.  It  was  a  sight  that  would  so  naturally  bring  most  to  their  knees  in  solemn  reverence,  a  display  that  was  both  outwardly  grand  and  pathetic  in  nature.  And  to  JIHYUN,  it  left  a  feeling  she  could  only  describe  as  numb,  an  inability  to  define  the  growing  discomfort  from  her  chest,  and  an  unwillingness  to  admit  a  guttural  emotion  may  be  manifesting  within  her.  The  cause  was  obvious,  and  yet  the  reaction  so  muddled  by  trauma,  and  a  genuine  lack  of  social  control,  that  her  mind  was  unable  to  grasp  the  wholeness  of  her  feelings.

          ⇢ And  so  the  natural  response  became  the  go-to,  push  down  any  thought  of  vulnerability,  pretend  nothing  is  the  matter,  and  move  on  as  though  unaffected  by  the  turmoils  within.  To  craft  a  mask  was  patient  work,  even  the  most  delicate  of  fingers  becoming  calloused  and  raw  from  the  construction  of  such  a  safety  net.  And  to  adorn  it,  even  harder,  the  bridge  of  the  nose  caving  in  and  the  material  seeping  into  the  skin,  sending  chemical  burns  through  the  surface  until  the  previous  face  was  no  longer  identifiable  from  the  new  precaution.  It  was  painful,  and  tiresome,  and  altogether  a  coward’s  journey,  but  it  was  one  that  JIHYUN  had  learned  to  covet,  and  had  grown  quite  skilled  in  handling.  To  be  so  wise  to  the  ways  of  the  facade,  to  know  its  secrets,  is  to  be  able  to  tell  just  what  sort  of  barricade  someone  has  put  up  around  their  brain,  and  if  desired,  exactly  how  to  deconstruct  it.

          ⇢ ❝  Anywhere  but  here.  ❞  Deadpan,  tired,  ready  to  move  on  -  she  was  unwilling  to  admit  anything,  and  was  already  too  deep  into  her  charade  to  realize  just  how  similar  the  two  were.  She  knew  if  he  went  inside  now,  if  left  to  his  own  devices,  he  would  shut  himself  away  and  let  himself  rot,  forget  where  the  blankets  ended  and  the  body  began,  and  lose  himself  to  the  void.  And  she  knew  if  she  were  in  his  shoes,  she  would  do  the  exact  same  thing.  Cowards  attract  cowards,  right?

           ☾ * /     001.   surrounded by cutlery and the distant sound of porcelain hitting metal, the terrible and sharp noise that cuts through the air like lighting strikes the ground in desperate tandem and lands with a force that could shatter eardrums if not careful. it was muffled beneath his thoughts as if protecting him from its stabbing, shivering within its cage as if a dog in a crate surrounded by nothing but the watchful eyes of things that wanted to eat it, safe within its bars but terribly afraid that something may slip through, jaws slobbering into his space and claws reaching far enough to cut him deeply until they could lick at the blood that seeped over the sides and gain all the more desperation for more, for the feel of his flesh within their teeth and the snap of his bones like simple toothpicks to their size. he could barely hear the mumble of activity, the quiet of conversation hushed to avoid overhear of gossip and feeling, of comprehending and curiosity for what happens next in the stories being told over morning coffee and afternoon tea shared by both those who wake up before the sun and those who consider a time as late as this ( was it still 10am or had time passed so callously? ) to be their alarm.

          ☾ * /     002.   he had been situated on the floor of the kitchen after the squeezing of his throat, the way his heart hammered in his chest as if it would soon break free from the cage and plop messily onto the counter and be seen by all who opposed it. a panic, sudden and without the charge of warning and so, so ready to ruin his reputation that barely held its head high enough to breath over the waters of understanding, barely was able to continue to kick and scream for help for it was so afraid of dipping below, of water in its eyes and filling its lungs with sewage and malice and every other horrible thing upon its saddened tongue. he was hopeless enough to be dragged into secrecy, lifted from his stool to abandon his coffee with gentle hand at his elbow but pity in the eyes that watched a grown man be submitted to something as low as quiet whisper and silent understanding. he wanted to die, to curl up upon the floor and allow those who patronized him to rejoice as he convulsed and the devil took his soul, ripped him to shreds until he was nothing more than a pile of red and pink and brown melded together like a stringy mess of fate.

         ☾ * /     003.   head lifting, solemn and eyes squinted against the bright light of the overhead fixtures reminiscent of bible school and a deep want to go home before they blinded him permanently. there was no clock he could see, no way to tell how much time had passed him without mercy for his state, without the pause of care to allow him to catch up with its ever changing face. “ hikaru, “ he mumbled barely above the ringing in his ears, hoping the cook was still running around the establishment, that the subtle noise of movement and metal over itself, hitting with vigor to speed processes that normally took far too much time to master if one was not already skilled in the art was really him preparing for guests as usual, the cycle of his occupation. it was still so hard to process, to visualize and understand if the blinding light was real or simply a figment of an overactive imagination, one not stunted by the reality of everything but instead subjected to wherever it would like to turn, a dream state unlike any other as real as allowing him to feel the painful dig of brick against his spin and the cold of flooring beneath the seat of his pants, the way his palms could feel warm skin beneath them as they met the rip of the knees of his jeans, not daring to show the scars that hid themselves just a few steps upward toward his hip. he needed once more a hand at his elbow or perhaps his chin, to lift it upward and declare him worthy of living despite.

◦ ☾—*:･ﾟ◦⇢ @hopeworth​​ ;       ft. HIKARU

          ⇢ The  swears  were  spoken  only  under  breath,  shrouded  within  the  exhale  of  lungs  and  kept  to  oneself  in  a  relenting  force  of  obedience.  The  café  was  not  a  restaurant  -  most  food  being  ordered  having  been  preprepared  and  wrapped  in  protective  casing  or  hidden  within  thick  glass  for  at  least  a  day  until  someone  brought  their  eyes  upon  it  and  allowed  it  refuge  from  its  wilting.  The  baked  goods  were  prepared  each  morning,  often  finding  themselves  being  forgotten  within  their  plastic  tombs  until  they  were  inevitably  thrown  away.  The  offerings  were  prepared  well,  obviously  skilled  hands  having  crafted  them  in  the  hopes  of  bringing  enjoyment,  but  no  one  was  there  for  the  food.  The  people  who  shuffled  in  and  out  of  the  chiming  door  so  constantly  were  undoubtedly  there  for  one  thing  and  one  thing  only:  NIX’s  coffee.  So,  HIKARU’s  job  was  often  easy,  allowing  him  to  spend  most  of  his  day  helping  with  the  matters  ...  less  likely  to  be  spoken  of  so  freely.

          ⇢ And  yet  with  one  sly  motion,  one  ever  so  small  change  in  the  routine,  the  entire  train  came  off  of  the  track  and  went  plummeting  into  the  ravine,  lost  within  the  depths  of  the  earth  and  never  to  be  seen  again.  It  was  this  thing,  this  ...  human.

          ⇢ He  smelled  of  rot  and  sour  milk,  the  frothing  of  his  blood  pulsating  so  grotesquely  through  his  veins  making  HIKARU’s  ears  ring  and  his  skin  prickle.  He  would  never  understand  why  NIX  would  take  a  liking  to  such  a  kind.  They’d  always  had  a  softness  within  them  for  the  broken  humans,  the  hurt  ones,  or  the  ones  who  so  obviously  had  seen  nightmares  of  which  HIKARU  didn’t  want  to  attempt  to  imagine.  It  was  always  the  ones  that  smelled  the  worst  that  they  let  hang  around.

          ⇢ ❝  What.  ❞  His  voice  was  low  and  disgruntled,  an  obvious  annoyance  at  the  newfound  hinderance  to  his  job  now  calling  out  to  him.

          ⇢ ❝  Be  nice.  ❞  RIN’s  voice  came  out,  genuine  and  soft  despite  the  underlying  anxiety  he  always  seemed  to  hold.  He  brought  a  pile  of  dishes  to  one  of  the  sinks,  and  began  to  run  the  water.  ❝  Or  I’ll  go  get  the  boss.  ❞