#iastarter

You could call it servitude. Or you could call it selfishly wanting to spend more time with the young lady he felt very close to despite her Elven blood and student status at the academy. It’s not that he couldn’t be friends with students as that happened more often than not. As for the Elven problem, it was more an issue of where the line blurs between respectful servant to Elven kind and a caring friend. Despite this very minor inner debate, the bot did well to keep her in his thoughts. They would occasionally share short conversation between classes as well, with this one’s theme being fall tradition.

The steambot was very well aware of pumpkin carving. It wasn’t that far off from a tradition in his homeland that involved these gourd-like vegetables called sboncen and little light up bugs called tany. He also had made impressive pumpkin carving displays for the academy grounds for the last two years. So, you could imagine that when Brighid casually mentions pumpkin carving and pumpkin pie, the teacher began to plan an endeavor doing just that.

He tilted his hat and gave a genuinely warm smile as he approached Brighid later in the week. He had to admit the air of positivity was far past the simple fact of her being an Elf. The two of them made their way through town to the pumpkin patch, a few people eyeing Inguk as he dropped heavy, thudding footsteps. He took in the sight below as they reached the top of a small hill. There was a large patch of land covered in green vines and dotted with pumpkins of all shapes, colors, and sizes. “Ain’t that pretty.” He commented. “You’re s’pose to start by picking the one ya’ want. I’m wonderin’ if I should just find the biggest one I can carry.” He chuckled, then turned to face her. “Hell, I forgot to ask. Have ya’ ever carved a pumpkin before?”

inspired by this

The sky was filled with shades of grey being covered by clouds as it suddenly started to rain. Not expecting to have it suddenly storm, the witch kinda came unprepared. And so he instantly he raised his arm to shield himself from the rain. Now he was always warned around traveling at night? But being the curious person that he is, of course that wouldn’t stop him. He didn’t understand the dangers he could encounter, but he believe he was much more capable to protect himself. “Yes mother, I’m uhh just resting at home. I’ll talk to you later.” he said kinda lying through his teeth as he slipped the phone into his pocket having his eyes wander trying to find the nearest place he could use for shelter. 

And so he came across a bar, running his fingers through the locks of his hair as he took a seat. “Ah don’t mind the messy hair. Didn’t expect to rain so suddenly. I’ll just have rice wine thank you.” he said to the bartender as he took off his robe since it was completely drenched from the rain. Taking a small sip as he thanked the bartender silently listening to the rain pitter batter against the glass window. “You know, I’m curious. I been told that there's some dangerous things happening out there. Mind filling me in what exactly?” He wasn’t familiar with the area, but nor was he naive. Just well--curious. 

starter based on this

The warlock had just got out of work. Long day filled with clients having him droop his jacket over his shoulders--until well he felt droplets of water hitting the strands of his hair. Shit. And so of course he thought luck on his side. Luckily the man had brought an umbrella with him..instantly he tried to open it and well it ended up breaking due to the strong wind “What the heck..” he cussed irritably under his breath. The man was literally drenched with a broken umbrella, but at least he can say he looks good in the rain right? Okay maybe not. He sighed kicking his umbrella as he threw a slight fit, and he could go back into the shop but his boss would get mad at the man for using it as shelter waiting for the storm to calm. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REG2YmCbzmo

//Fire up the engine, drop the gun, we’ll run away through the neon lights///

Sweaty bodies and pulsing eardrums were the least of Arien’s worries this night. Arien Jinaka was far more focused on crafting a smooth and successful deal with this next buyer. Each buyer’s interest could certainly be won. Whether it be the process of haggle, a test of charm, or simply knowing what deal to make. It was likely, given their territory, that a few bodies heating up this space’s air were pulsed with his own creations. Not limited to the Norms, the Mysti were well affected by Jinaka brand “Brews.” “Potions,” many people called them. On this side of town, the people knew ‘potions’ referred to that specific experience to shift a mind if only for a moment. An elixir of mental concentrate that once ingested gifted it’s user with unadulterated central emotion. Of course, only limited by-

You know, that was neither here nor there. The point is Jinaka had made a name for himself around these parts. The modern world grew neon and tasteful while simultaneously adopting an emotionless brand and sensual scent of life. Robotics dictated each walk and sexual prowess grew the underground scene with a fervor. Genderless fashion glittered like Arien’s own symbol gloves. He felt like he could breathe better down here than above the so-called surface.

He had passed the bar scanner with an arm held out. The bot standing guard scanned his ID code tattoo and mere seconds later his typical drink of choice was ready for him at the end of the bar. The couches in the back corner beckoned- as did a familiar face. He couldn’t help himself, the anomalous yet extroverted bastard, but grin widely. His pretty features lit up as did his glittering eyeshadow in the light flash. “Hello there, beautiful. I might take a guess as to why you are here. I’d give you a little kiss but I’m here on business.”

He sat, unceremoniously, and eyed the pulsating LED dots that decorated the walls with pre-set designs. He handed a small blue bottle over to the other warm body now pressed thigh to thigh.

//Superhero society AU, modern day, large urban city, Korea. Lightly based on character’s current abilities/personality, further plotting welcomed//

Various street lights lay dim, uncared and attended for. Their yellow tarnish proof being past the point of cleaning and providing little view of this nighttime street. The good news is, despite the terrible lighting in what was considered the “bad” side of town, it made little difference to Jinwoo. The decorated blindfold laid across his eyes only settled any discussion regarding his lack of sight. It was painfully obvious to the local public nowadays that, yes, he is blind. Fully and absolutely.

Did that stop him from fighting some nasty jack-ass crime runners and douchebags?

Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, this society ran rather wild with the hero type. Stoic, flamboyant, vigilant-y, governmental, unlawful, solo-run, organized, mob-style.. the variety goes on just as drastically for heroes as it does any other walk of life here. Perched atop a midsize building, Jinwoo observed the noise while catching his breath. Air vents to his right; they were venting the building where someone on the third floor was drying their flannel pajamas with dollar store lilac dryer sheets. He felt the vibrations of a 16 wheeler truck transporting hefty boxes of product to a local supermarket chain down the road. There were sounds of horns in the far distance- closer to the busy side of town- and a female cat so heavily in heat she crooned to any male within the next few miles who might answer her song.

“B- but aren’t we still outside?” The slight breeze was enough inclination to answer his question. The alcohol pulsing through Jinwoo’s half-human veins had chilled his mind out, but not fully. It would take an actual act of god or some higher being to knock Jinwoo’s freight-train jumping thought process out completely. Senses melded and sensations affected in domino ways no one may ever understand. Blame whatever ridiculously sophisticated alien technology caused his current case of-

“Your voice tastes like raspberries.” 

Jinwoo let his hand grasp onto the man’s arm, not because he couldn’t stand but because he needed the contact to feel grounded. He was simply buzzed on drinks, but now even more buzzed on sensation. “Do you taste like them, too?” He mumbled against the jaw of the other male. The idea of continuing whatever had started in an outdoor setting was new, and the more he thought about it, exciting. The grip on his white cane tightened as he hovered curiously around, blindly. “What’s your name again mister raspberry?”

A nice evening party! What a grand idea. Despite his chill outward personality, Junseong was a lover of fun, humor, entertainment, and social gatherings. His non-existent heart had been aching for some level of get together even since before moving. His bones were dry and his humor even drier as the days flew by with little but himself and his props to keep company.

So when word of a ‘1920′s speakeasy’ starts to spread around his new town, Junseong became intrigued. That was right up his alley and would likely feel just like home. Upon arriving, Junseong took back the ‘just like home’ comment considering the cheesy and not completely accurate nature of the party atmosphere. It had been coordinated by very young, very alive humans, after all. But the ‘right up his alley’ part remained. He had forgone the hip-hop clothing in light of a more fancy dress from his time. Already seated and smoking a cigar, Junseong felt strange.

He had planned on meeting and talking to new people but his normally extroverted nature was replaced with an incredible wave of brood and melancholy. His thoughts were swirling downward just as fast as his mood and he felt exhausted. The two-seventy then realized it had been a very long time since he had absorbed any brainwaves, and was in danger of frightening these people by unconsciously showing was he really was to them.

And it wasn’t even Halloween so that excuse was out..

open to: someone who knew kuixian as a student in IA or at least someone with a pre-established history (can be plotted) connection: When Kyuhyun was at Insolitus as a student, he was a little bit of a troublemaker that made use of whatever Siren style powers he had. If anyone could remember him by any memorable incidents, some would be an encounter with an arachna ending in him being dunked in the school fountain to save him from death by poison, picking some fights via flirtation with a particularly serious reaper and participating and making it pretty far into the IA Triumph Trials in 2013.

Seated in the Cafeteria, the Siren was merely reading away at the textbooks for the class and writing notes as to how to keep the classes interesting. It was complex for Kyuhyun to remain focused for an extended period of time as well, so this was a bit of dedication on his part. But as he heard people shuffling in to find a place to eat their lunch, he glanced around the room to see many new students, but also a few familiar faces. 

It wasn’t like he was expecting anyone to notice him, or if they did; they wouldn’t speak to him, or would they? As he saw familial faces, he gave a small nod and a smile, but as he looks back down to get back to work, he hadn’t expected someone to stand right in front of him. He glanced up, giving a thoughtful look before smiling courteously.