The previous night was a blur.

He didn’t know how he’d ended up in a fight but knowing himself, it wasn’t out of the question that it was at least partially his own fault. If only he could remember how or why it started. All he could bring to mind was the feeling of blood that trickled from somewhere on his head, stinging in his eyes, and him feeling nauseous on his way back home. Only when he woke up in a room that wasn’t his, with clothes unfamiliar to his body and a raging headache, did he realize that he somehow must’ve turned up at the hospital. And like so many other things at that moment, the ‘how?’ was a mystery to him. 

Soft fingers brushed against his forehead and effectively snapped him out of the trance he unwillingly kept slipping in and out of. “Sorry, what?” A dull pain shot through his head as he habitually tried to raise his eyebrows to accompany his question, and he blinked a few times as he gathered his thoughts.

“I don’t know.” His gaze wandered down to his arms, small bruises barely visible among his tattoos. Maxim was sure they didn’t look as healed yesterday as they did now, so maybe they did something to him. “Somebody gave me a pill earlier, I think.” he paused as he tried to remember again, everything felt so fuzzy and veiled with momentary darkness. “Then I fell asleep.” 

Maxim finally looked back up at her, a question burning on his tongue as his memory desperately tried to assemble the puzzle pieces of the previous night. 

@mpxdavina

He’d been alone for a couple weeks now. One would expect how things were going, he wasn’t worried too much about it - he’d learn everyone eventually and continue doing so. Care was care until it became personal. You know how to give a bath to anyone but it’s learning they like to soak a bit longer to help their joints from aching. While he was a RN - the hospice wing wasn’t too intense. Everyone was kept comfortable and weren’t too troublesome as most of them couldn’t ambulate anymore. This gave Ben time to sit down and listen to their stories - or anything else they speak of. He’d help with the hard parts and even help clean the bed before someone new arrives.  

This routine was nice - it kept things smooth and steady. A new person had arrived a bit ago as he snapped back into reality. He went to greet the patient and get to learn a bit about them. At the end of briefing, he told the patient he’d get something for their ailment. First it’d be the order from the doctor - then he’d be able to take it to the pharmacy to fill it. He got past the doctor, and now it was time to find the pharmacy. Ben hadn’t really gone to fill a script - most stuff was already on the unit. 

for the lovely new client @mpxdavina

Maxim, though not a perfectionist in his personal life, approached his craft with unwavering seriousness. His work station reflected this dedication, with meticulously organized instruments, freshly mixed colors, and pristine needles neatly arranged. He made sure to check the inspiration pictures he was given multiple times to properly prepare for his upcoming appointment, incorporating as many details and adjustments as he could without changing too much.

Anticipating a long day—possibly two, depending on his client's cooperation—Maxim felt a secret excitement rising within him. It was a departure from his usual repertoire; his work often veered towards the dark and grotesque.

Perhaps it was coincidental or intentional, but he rarely found himself creating colored or soft-looking tattoos. The gloomy and dark vibes he exuded seemed to attract requests for harsh-lined and nightmarish caricatures. Some of which he was directly responsible for. And although he enjoyed toying with the opportunities he was given, he oftentimes found himself looking for a challenge.

One that presented itself in a sweet and dainty design—colorful with soft lines and minimal shading. A design that embodied flowers, delicacy, and grace.

Normally indifferent to the identities of those seeking his art, Maxim found himself intrigued by the client who commissioned such a piece from him. What were their motives for choosing an art piece like that? Would this be their first time getting inked? Were they prepared to sit still for hours on end?

The chair swiveled around from side to side as he waited, his eyes glued on the tablet in his lap while he compared the inspiration with his own designs. A total of three alternatives with slightly different features to pick and select from should be enough, right?

Only when he heard the door open and caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, did he look up. Beneath his emotionless—almost bored—expression, his mind was reeling to come up with a memory that was just out of reach.

He knew her. He was sure he did. But for some reason, he couldn’t remember how he knew her.

Jinae had been struggling to try to reach a package of pasta on the top shelf for a few minutes, just a little too short to grab it. Normally she would have asked an employee to give her a hand, but it was late and she was pretty sure the only person working was behind the cash, so she didn't want to bother them.

She had just about given up on it when Davina appeared, proclaiming her heroic intentions. "Oh, thank you! But please be careful!" She urged, offering the other girl a grateful smile. Davina was just that little bit taller, so maybe she would be able to reach it. Or maybe she was a little more daring and willing to jump or step on the bottom shelf for a boost. "I wanted to make my mom's japchae, but you need glass noodles for that... I don't know why they decided to put them up so high."

Her way of viewing the world was fascinating to him. Much purer than anything his inner monologue could come up with and it felt like a breath of fresh air to his self-proclaimed cursed soul. Maxim’s eyes stayed focused on a random spot in front of him, her words ringing in his head loud enough to distract him from the way his lips curved up in acknowledgement. Finally, with a slow nod and the subsequent creeping realization, he looked over to her. 

“I guess some people just naturally give off a safe vibe.” It was one of the—admittedly many—things he felt jealous of with his peers. Even without his birth given powers to induce anxiety and his inherited curse of portraying a negative aura, Maxim knew he wasn’t someone to feel safe with. Not that many outside of his family tried particularly hard to prove him wrong. He had his circle of friends who were just as unsafe as he was and potentially more unhinged.

A part of him envied Davina for her natural approachability, the kindness she radiated and the safety she portrayed. Not that he would dare make it known to her or anybody else, or even indulge in such thoughts for any longer than a second. 

@mpxdavina

Theo had been completely unaware that Mount Phoenix was apparently home to a cool rock band, so he was quite pleasantly surprised when HEXED took the stage at the Hallow’s Eve Ball. The music was great and the crowd’s excitement infectious. He made a mental note to go home and look up the band - their stuff was maybe a little hardcore for him, since he tended to prefer soothing ballads or uplifting pop, but they may have made a fan out of him anyway.

Early in the performance, his elbow brushed against a person behind him and he turned to apologize, only to find a rather small girl who seemed to be having trouble seeing the stage. “Hey,” he raised his voice to be heard over the music, tapping Davina lightly on the shoulder. “Do you want a boost? I bet you could see everything if you sat on my shoulders!”

@mpxdavina

It was Yuna’s one day off from streaming, which meant that it was an errand day. She had already been to the grocery store and to explore some of the city’s boutiques and specialty shops, and her last stop was the pharmacy for some multivitamins and iron pills. Because apparently her lackluster diet wasn’t quite cutting it. Maybe it would have been a good idea to consider hiring a personal chef - she certainly had the money for it.

Bopping along to the bubblegum pop blaring through her headphones, she wandered into the hospital and followed the signs to the pharmacy, going right to the counter. “Hi! I need some...” Her eyes had been scanning the shelves behind the counter, but when they locked on the pharmacist she interrupted herself with a started gasp.

affectionate action prompts

Accidents happen, and even if he had stayed away from any potentially dangerous situation for the past few months, he decided to tempt his luck once again. Raiden’s nature was constantly swaying between right and wrong, often because he had good intentions and a goal in mind, yet the means to reach his objective were indifferent to him.

He rescued a piece of jewelry that someone desperately wanted back after dropping it by accident in a sewer drain, however, after he pulled out the shiny object, a fragment of metal made a wide cut on his arm.

The trip to the hospital wasn't bad, and the wait was short as well. A female figure sat in front of him, introducing herself first before asking to reveal the wound. She was gentle when cleaning the cut, and also explained the following steps to prepare him. "Is it too deep? Or do I need the stitches because it is a long cut?" The Japanese god asked.