blemished.

At times, Silas found himself seaside listening to the waves crashing right below his feet. Sketchbook in hand with a large bag of different artists’ tools depending on his mood, drawing anything that interested him or came into his mind. Sometimes it was the water itself, other times it was the various faces that could be found making their way across the gulf’s drift wood and pieces of shells. It was a chance to get away from his shop and find new inspiration in the people that called Corinth their home, along with the many visitors that appreciated its allure. That was when he appeared— hair catching light giving it hints of crimson and gold within its darkness. The cubi began to sketch, entranced by his presence as charcoal hues glanced up and back down to keep capturing him naturally. A tool he often used when evading the North Korean army during the war, attempting to draw without the individual even realizing that Silas was just feet away the entire time. Though he supposed those within the army were simply humans, not full of glistening magic like the man whose eyes zeroed in on him.

Hadn’t Silas felt that before? That encroaching, hair-raising feeling that had once started in a tiny shop in Andong. One that the incubus had not recognized then, but oh he’d wished he would have realized was the start of this long, immortal journey. Pandemonium. Why Seokga’s grasp was so firm on Korea during those days of tyranny and war, what all of this had done to his family and friends who would never understand that they had never done anything wrong besides exist. So as the sensation grew stronger— bell chiming at the door of Knick Knack, surpassing the portions in Silas that still felt agony about those days began to bubble up. “How-” even if he knew exactly what to say, the words hardly wanted to leave his throat anyway and only moved his onyx hues to capture the moment. The individual that stood before him held different features, sun-kissed skin that didn’t quite match his tempestuous gaze, though the incubus knew deep down was connected to him.

This is new ground Ophelia finds herself on. She knows more of cubi by reputation and what the furies taught her than personal history, and Silas is nothing like she had been expecting. Perhaps that is why she finds him so fascinating. Green eyes watch for him, from behind the counter of the tea shop, where he had been a frequent patron before the pride festival. Perhaps she’s scared him off? Regrettable, to be sure, though she suspects not many of his species would willingly choose to spend time around her; that had been another point of her curiosity, how he never seemed to be particularly afraid, or even worried in her presence. Ophelia has just about written him off as a willing participant to their game, much to her disappointment, when she finally spies him reenter AnxieTea — and the smile that graces her face is not false, for once. Their song and dance is not quite finished. Good. Once she is certain to not leave her coworker swamped with customers, she steps out to take her break, making a beeline for Silas. “Rather well, I think. So many interesting things to see, and people to meet. I don’t think I’ll be bored.” The double entendre is there, clear as day for anyone who has the appropriate context. And then, because Ophelia has always been bold, she adds, “you were gone for quite awhile. I wondered if I’d seen the last of you.” 

“Gabriel believes that it’s suicide. He made that rather clear in… not so many words.” He had apologized in his own way, yet the harshness of her closest confidante’s words still rang true within the succubus’ mind. Not due to the vitriol, but rather because they weren’t unfounded in their assertion. “I know him well enough that he will always be overly protective, it’s a two way street as they say. Which is why I would rather ask you.” Kasandra and Silas were decent friends, yet they did not keep one another in metaphorical bubbles like she did with the ancient incubus. “As an outside, third party friend, what would you give as advice to me about this shifter situation?” @silaskyun​

Trust was not something that Kaan gave away easily. When it came to the cubi, he liked to think he could trust them the most. None of them wanted to die and, as far as he was aware, they were some of the only people that knew what their weakness was. If anyone else did, it was probably because one of them said something. However, it was always best to take that secret with them to the grave. Whatever shapeshifter were in town needed to be gotten rid of as soon as possible. He wished it was that easy. “Hm…” He thought about it for a second as he looked at the flowers Silas pointed out. “I guess those will do. I trust your opinion on this kind of thing.”

So— he hadn’t seen her since the festival. Unusual given the fact that before that, Silas had spent much of his time wandering into the tea shop where she worked. Lately, however, he actively made the choice to go inside the doors of their competition and hadn’t fully pinned down exactly why. Maybe it was because it all felt too different, they had seen each other outside of a work setting and could no longer call Ophelia just an acquaintance. His mind drifting towards the curiosity of how she might be doing and if she had, at all, noticed his absence. Not exactly a thought that he wanted to be caught in, but their little game of chess was intriguing and Silas couldn’t ignore the allure of the rootless ground. That’s why he found himself inside again, sitting at an antique table that was probably older than he was now and nursing a lukewarm tea. “How are you settling in?” he asked, filling the air with something other than the lingering silence between them.

“Would you believe me if I said that’s precisely what I wanted to hear today?” He plays coy with the true reason behind his visit for only a moment longer before settling into natural charm, slightly disconcerted that the other man held a vastly greater allure without actually trying. “White, medium sized, and in an ornate metal holder. The wax has an intricate carving on one side. Does any of that sound familiar?” Fingers brushed at the crux of his neck, an uncharacteristic turmoil overtaking in that moment. As much as Giovanni intended to use Silas for his own knowledge, there came something rather striking about the other man and almost… trustworthy. The sensation struck him as both odd and comforting in the same breath. “If someone wished to pawn it, I thought you might be their first stop.”

Of course it sounded familiar, though Silas was having a hard time actually allowing those words to come out of his mouth. He hadn’t had the chance to really look into it, seeing as it had only been a few days of it being in his possession, and the idea of simply handing it over to Giovanni without a second thought seemed foolish. The incubus knew better than that. Trust was something that came later, with time, and the man that stood before him hadn’t been granted that level as far as Silas was concerned. Stalling, however, wasn’t exactly possible at this moment. What did the cubi care anyway? He had already had his fill of dabbling with cursed objects and the goal had to be who was going to be his highest bidder, “Yeah I’ve got a couple that might fit that description in the back— hadn’t gotten around to placing them out on display yet. Just let me bring them up.”

@corinthbaystarters​​

In his quest for knowledge, Lykaon has collected a great number of books and tomes over the centuries. His library houses most of them, available to the public for their perusal. But there are some that are unfit for public display, a potential danger if fallen into the wrong hands. He pursues them all the same, even if they might speak of a magic he can never touch with his own two hands. They’re kept off the main floor, in a private wing dedicated solely to their preservation and protection (though the truly dangerous ones remain at his home estate). Lykaon is in that wing now, attention focused on a new acquirement when he suddenly gets the sense that he isn’t alone anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been alive for so long that he’s fine tuned to notice the presence of another, or maybe it’s just a gut feeling, but it’s there all the same and it’s rarely wrong. “This room is restricted access, for employees only.” His voice rings out loudly, an underlying warning. He’d have to up the security system again. 

open starter taking place at acanthus mollis @corinthbaystarters

People were interesting most of the time. The way they moved about as if nothing was wrong with the world intrigued him. They were surely blinded by how charming the people that desperately wanted to take advantage of that were. His own boyfriend had been blinded, but he would never lump Elias in with the rest. No, he was one of a kind. Everyone else though? They were just naive. As he walked into the nearby flower shop that happened to be across the street from his funeral parlor, he looked around for a moment before turning to the nearest body. “What flowers do you think a child would want at their funeral. Mother says daisies, but that sounds pretty fucking stupid, doesn’t it?”

Pride had finally started winding down and he was about ready to take off any and all of his clothes just so he could go shower. He was sure a drink had been spilled on him at some point and he wanted out of it as soon as possible. As he took off one of the beaded necklaces that had been thrown around his neck, he was interrupted by some person walking up to him. Normally, Angel was ready to ignore and keep it moving, but he wasn’t going to do that this time. The least he could do was enjoy the end of this whole thing to the best of his ability. “Oh, sure go ahead.” He wasn’t even sure what he should do so he kind of just stood there continuing to handle the beads. Slowly wrapping it around his wrist, he looked back up at the other man. “I assume you’re also enjoying yourself?”

He had felt this before, that mustering of something dark within an individual and tried to place where or who it might have been with. It was brief, the incubus remembered, and still hadn’t been able to figure out what exactly was underneath the skin. That was happening a lot more as of late and the man that stood before him was no different, though Silas’ usual friendly grin tugged at the edges of his lips as he adjusted his camera to snap a picture. “I did,” the camera blocked most of his face now as he looked through the lens, positioning it just right and admiring how casual the moment became, “In my own way.” Just like everyone who had placed themselves at the event, each having their own experiences and he was excited to share with his sister how it all went. But that curiosity pulled at him more— what exactly was this man? Who’s— and then it struck him. The man that visited him in his shop months prior, purchased a ring, but Silas couldn’t place his name at this time. Only the feeling. “Got plans after this?” he asked in an attempt to get him to lingerie longer, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Ophelia watches in amusement as the incubus tries, and fails, to hit his target. She wonders if it was on purpose, if maybe he finds more value in hiding his strengths than showing them off; a move to make her underestimate him. Or maybe she’s making chess out of checkers, and he just truly has bad aim. Still, she finds it better to be overly cautious than overly trusting, especially when dealing with a creature whose true nature remains unknown to her. Everything he shows her could just be a precalculated move. “I think you sell yourself short too much. I’m certain there’s a game around here somewhere in which you would excel.” She grins as she speaks, and picks up the next dart from the counter, before taking her aim and letting it soar with a flick of her wrist. Not a bullseye, but close, only off from the red center by an inch or so. Let him make of that what he will, she thinks, as she turns back to face Silas. “I believe this means I’ve won this time. Unless you’d like to go best out of three.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he states, even if his more pacifist nature showed no real desire to continue playing any of the games. None of them were his speed, but the incubus’s curiosity for Ophelia outweighed the inclination to find something else to do with his time. Not to mention Silas didn’t know what else he would fill his time with anyway. Maybe find Rimona again, see what trouble she may have found while he was away, but his feet stayed planted in the dirt. “There’s got to be something else we can try out,” charcoal irises scanning the location they were in as if there would be much more than this. After all, it was Pride and carnival games weren’t as prominent. “That booth looks like it might have a kind of game, maybe trivia?” he peered around the crowds of people that started to gather, “Want to go check it out?”