I Love Eye Flirting

opheliancano​:

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.” 

A hardened swallow after a long drink from his tea, processing her words as they lingered in the space surrounding them and made a point to not allow his feelings to surface. The feelings of intrigue and wonderment on how she could have plucked the question from his brain— how she might have actually been concerned for him in some way. Not that an individual being endearing towards the incubus was foreign, his natural magnetism making it fairly simple in most settings, but that was obsolete here. With Ophelia, it was all genuine and that in itself was enough to shake up his perspective. “Hardly,” he finally mustered up in response, a light grin emerging as the tea cup found its place on the coaster in front of them, “Best tea blends in town, if you ask me.” Though they both knew that wasn’t the only reason Silas found himself roaming to its doors, even if his guts refused for him to admit that detail out-loud and tried to keep the subject on her versus himself, “I’m sure not. There always seems to be something exhilarating happening, especially in this town. I’m sure it will be quite effortless for you to find and keep your foothold.” Which was true, her aura calling attention to its daring and valorous nature.

Life with the jade and emerald tinted object had been torturous, yet Silas couldn’t manage to let it go. A week had gone by with him knowing there was something wrong with it, some curse that had been placed, and the cubi still couldn’t manage to keep his fingers from glazing over its sheen. Studying its ridges as it played with the dim lights inside the back of his shop. Even started carrying it around, terrified that someone else might take it. He continually told himself that if it wasn’t him taking the burden on, that it would be someone else but Silas knew it was just an act to keep it close to himself. Anyone that caught eye of the scale immediately induced panic within his being, so his pant pocket was the only logical place for it to stay until he understood more. It wasn’t as if he knew its origins completely, just some various lore from the library and anything Kasandra could explain given her similar condition. Sleep had been replaced with nightmares and late-night walks, muse for anything artistic all but lost when the hour was so late that he felt his shop walls closing in on him. That’s precisely where the cubi was now, feet patting up and down the sidewalks of town with eye bags that could be seen from at least a block away. ‘This cannot last,’ bubbled in his thoughts as the silhouette of a public bench came near and he instinctively headed towards it, ‘Go-saeng kkeut-e nag-i on-da*.’

@leightonhaywood​

The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.

Auguste Rodin (via wordsnquotes)

There he was again— Giovanni, the cubi remembered as a sigh fell from his lips before the man entered his establishment. It wasn’t that he didn’t fully like the guy, well, actually Silas could truly say that something about the human rubbed him a strange way. The presence and aura around him caused a bubbling within Silas’s gut, though he wasn’t exactly sure what that meant for the cubi in the grand scheme of things. After all, Giovanni didn’t hold as much power as someone such as himself but that had never stopped mortal’s from wreaking havoc when they felt the desire to. “Why, hello Giovanni. Long time no see,” a warm tone given the feeling that crept into his belly as their eyes met, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” A relaxed pause as he leaned lightly on the front counter, listening to the graceful footsteps coming towards him, “What can I do for you this evening?”

@giovannixrusso​

kasandrarosales‌:

Feeding occurred every other day at regularly scheduled intervals, Kasandra would be damned if she existed for more than two days without sustenance. That was, after all, how she remained in this world now: existing. Not quite living, but allowing herself to be carried by the sands of time regardless of whether she desired the destination or not. Eternally fulfilling another’s vendetta without true choice in the matter, though if she were to dwell on that fact it might inspire a spectacular downward spiral. So she remained within the walls of her nightclub instead, peering out at the masses from behind her bar. Passing cocktails to potential prey who became lured in by the natural cubi appeal, yet none drew her attention. Not yet.

Not until him.

Alone, untethered, and searching for… What she couldn’t be certain. He gave the crowd a once over before requesting his own drink and she gently pressed a palm against the bicep of a bartender who moved to assist. Plucking the cocktail from his overworked hands, Kasandra personally delivered it to the awaiting customer, beryl hues trained upon his features with a practiced scrutiny. Just enough to lend itself to the possibility of interest. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

Charcoal hues watched as the bartender finished up with his drink before a slender woman seemed to command otherwise. Fingertips gripping his cover, the item that would make him appear more human, and proceeded towards him. The cubi couldn’t help the alarm that he felt as her eyes latched onto his own, confidence exuding from her every pore. He was used to having to work a little more for his dinner. But as odd as it was that she managed to connect with him so eagerly, Silas’ hunger seemed to be winning. Instead of mulling over the moment, he proceeded on and tapped into the natural charm of being a cubi.

“I’ve been told in the past that I’m a bit of a wallflower,” which was partially true. A softness filled his expression, a smirk growing before taking a delicate sip. In reality, Silas had learned how to blend in without being much of a bother and most of his mortal life had depended on it. Even much of his cubi life had. Slipping into the background while the Korean War raged on, never getting caught while he voraciously sketched each scene. Then later as a cubi meant blending into each location as if you had always been there, while still managing to remove yourself without being noticed. “Maybe you just didn’t notice me,” he finished, leaning slightly on the bar and giving her his full attention.

↳ SILAS KYUN — character aesthetic 

Knick Knack always attracted many different kinds of people, mostly because the incubus tried to cater to all walks of life. It was the same for anyone looking to sell their artwork and after all these years, Silas had seen just about everything. He noticed each detail and could tell when extra care was taken to design the piece. “The mark of a true craftsman,” he smiled, bits of exhaustion cutting through his tone and moved the ring closer to his eye. Only a few days had passed since the scale had been destroyed, though no matter how much he slept— it just never was quite enough. Running the shop was the only thing pulling him out of bed in the morning, but his strength was coming back slowly. Charcoal hues pulled back as shimmers of the stone danced across his warm expression, “So, what do you think. I have a couple open spots up front that can be personalized to your liking and we can feature your favorites in the window?”

@lenavidalis​

cxnnxrmorgan‌:

The past few weeks had treated Connor to a rollercoaster he wasn’t adequately prepared for. The blade he’d found buried in Scylla’s chest still left him with no answers, and a whole lot of stress to add to his already tense shoulders. The biography he’d chosen revolved around the deceased Goddess. As Silas answered, he smiled softly and nodded, “I understand. I’d hate to trouble you,” he’d settled on the floor, face upturned toward the other man. He was making a feeble attempt at not outright staring but- it was hard. “My name is Connor,” he reached upward to offer a handshake, “and I feel like I’ve seen you around quite a bit. Could just be my mind playing tricks though.”

“It’s really no bother,” the cubi replied as he looked down at what the stranger was carrying. He recognized the scales immediately and felt his stomach turn slightly at the image, the very item still being carried in his pocket days after the fiasco. He had been more than obsessed with it, but hardly wanted to seem desperate at what exactly the brunette was researching. Silas had been doing some of his own digging, even if the book now within his grasp had nothing to do with the Goddess. “Silas,” free hand moving to shake his, “Could have seen me. I run a shop on the main street.” There weren’t many Korean’s running shops in downtown Corinth, so it was highly likely that he had been seen before. Connor had a familiarity as well and kept getting hits of freshly baked bread as he stood before the cubi.

Over time, Silas had gotten used to forgetting a day or two from the past. Memory had this oddness about it that could be fleeting or become twisted and he had noticed this gradually as the years passed on. That’s what his journaling had been for, a habit that started during the war and only continued as things worsened in his home country. But this was and felt so different. Sure a day would go by that might be less than eventful, causing the cubi to pause at the memory of the day or two before— but the day was gone. Not just little cracks of what happened, completely wiped from existence. All he had was the various notes he had written later that night about the oddity and curiosity of what he had seen that night. However, none of it made sense and Silas couldn’t even draw out the connection. When his mind would try to dig it out, it was as though a dark blank was placed there instead.

Tapping lightly on the end of his pen, Silas sat puzzled on a bench outside his shop. The sign currently read closed as he grappled with the situation. As if the memory wasn’t hard enough for him, the damn Eidolon’s wouldn’t let him be. They were trying their hardest to chip away at him, but his attentions had been in so many different places that seeing his dead relatives had been the last of his concerns. The scale and the journal entry was driving the cubi madder than any Eidolon could. Even the fact that his sister wasn’t present in his hauntings didn’t phase him, a detail that wouldn’t have usually gone past the young cubi and instead the emerald shimmer flooded his thoughts. He shuffled it through his fingers tips, eyes locked and entranced while the world around him seemed to keep beating. How could he have possibly noticed the shadow of a man coming towards his direction?

@maddcxaquinc​

Soft Affection

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