`MEMENTO MORI

park chanyeol Shadows dance around the room. I know their names, I carry their blood too. They sing forgotten songs, But I know the words.

[gmxgrim]

❄ snickerdoodle

[gmxskye]

     ”but seriously, why are we making so many cookies anyway?” she wasn’t as into this spreading the holiday cheer madness that he was so into, not sure what got her cousin in such a mood either. considering she had spent christmas the year before wrapped up in her blanket and coughing out her lungs, skye had never really encountered chanyeol around the holiday season on their own ( considering they had met a few times in seoul when their families got together for christmas and whatnot, gross family gatherings and such ) and this amount of christmas cheer was almost overwhelming. she had purchased the sweater for last year, but had never actually had a reason to wear it this year. and she was staring at him once again as he brandished the wooden spoon in her direction, quirking up an eyebrow in faint amusement at his weapon and the words that were flowing from his mouth.

     skye couldn’t help but groan, leaning against the counter after she finished digging around in the bag of ingredients in an attempt to find the long lost cinnamon. “you’re not making me go around and deliver cookies too, are you?” there was a note of exasperation in her voice, wondering if the male would let her sit it out because honestly, she would much rather be eating all of the cookies they were making than giving them away. it seemed like a waste of all of their good efforts so far. she would even eat his portion if it made him feel better about not being able to taste any of the delicious cookies they were baking. speaking of which … she glanced in the direction of the batch they had already made, laid out on a cooling rack. one wouldn’t hurt right? … right. she picked one up, breaking it apart and watching as the chocolate oozed, popping a piece into her mouth, mumbling out a muffled response. “cinnamon doesn’t have a thought process ‘yeol, it’s not hiding —”

[gmxgrim]

The fever was incurable and Skye’s aloof method of expression only fueled his ardent fire to produce more cookies and therefore more holiday cheer – in fact, at this rate Chanyeol was beginning to convince himself that he was probably meant to be a Christmas elf rather than a boring six foot mortician. “That’s sound logic there, however, that only means someone with a thought process hid it.” Smiling to himself the man heard the containers collide with one another when nudged by his negligent fingers, reaching further to grasp onto everything he can possibly hold, retrieving three different vessels meant to preserve precious spices within. “It’s a happy thing, the holidays. It's of people coming together to celebrate with one another based on spiritual belief or geography, and often enough these days came to be simply to bid away misery.” His voice measured itself, the thoughts from his head translated into eloquent prose, the syllables even, and his hands busy with twisting open the tiny treasure chests.

“Winter isn’t a comfortable period of time and we know now that seasonal depression is a common enough occurrence, yet during a cheerless time we’ve become accustomed to initiating nothing but cheer.” Chanyeol elucidated his vision for tonight, consisting as a means to reassure those wayward souls that they need not damn themselves to chronic fear for the extended nights, that the sun will against coax flowers to crawl from the thawed ground. “And so – ” Of course a gasp of shock would interrupt him, forced without the genuine need to breathe (but it made good effect), for cinnamon was staring back up at him from a container previously meant for sour cream. “Cinnamon!” Taking a pinch he turned towards his critical cousin, mischief stalking him and the girl with her cheeks occupied by chocolate chip cookie goo, and his visage remained stoic, for just a moment, resting in inertia…waiting.

“You don’t have to help me deliver them. It’s just nice to be alive, that’s why.” That, served with another smile, he flicked the cinnamon at Skye without mercy, watching the specks burst into a cloud of obstinate orange, separating, and falling.

[xiumania]

[gmxsohee-blog]

curdle

(* from the very instant she had entered the grocery store, she was on guard, paranoid for the people that could recognize her, or might have a composite of her. she realized on the crime totem pole of a mutant island, she must rank very low, but some rather annoying additons to her behavior had to come out, when the weather muddled her thoughts. luckily, this day was warm enough for her to deal with the frozen foods isle and conquer.

still, her gaze lingered suspiciously on every person that passed by her, eyes squinted and darting every which way as she piled box after box of instant macaroni into her shopping cart.

eventually she reached the impasse known as another cart in her aisle, with one simple, silly girl blocking the other side as she examined the different types of cookies available. sohee could do nothing but wait impatiently as the short girl got up on her tippy toes to reach for a pack of fudge-covered somethings, shirt riding up to expose the top of her lacy underwear, her tight leggings hugging her ass so tightly sohee swore she could see pimples through the fabric.

after hopping a little bit, unable to reach her spoils, sohee had had enough.

reaching around her, while not having to worry about anything showing, she waggled the box of cookies in front of the girl’s confused face *) You are the reason women are seen as these weak, helpless little sex dolls. God, people like you make me sick. It is winter, wear a fucking jacket!

(* startled, and clearly more than a little confused, the girl moved to point at the heavy coat resting in her basket, but sohee wouldn’t be deterred *) Do you have any thoughts in that empty head of yours? I’m shocked you even will eat cookies. Doesn’t that make you less fuckable, the more calories you eat?

(* the girl looked like she was frozen in place, eyes wide like a baby deer’s, and sohee laughed at her *) God, girls like you…girls like you aren’t good for anything at all.

[gmxgrim]

( / compress mental wounds, address the absence echoing hollow nocturnes in the valves of his inert heart, and quiet the mind, seize the day. he was too dead to worry about life now, isn’t he? the cadavers made pleasant company, unfinished stories to be preserved beneath his palms, and the necroscope is comforting, twisting, until it’s two weeks later and he hasn’t been outside, surrounded in chemicals and stifled air.

– what was he doing wasting the winter like this? these freezing months are made for him! there’s no way he’d rot when tiptoeing in the temporary icebox world! )

what was i going to get again? ( / lost in isle five, or six or seven, his eyebrows come together and separates in a moment of chaos brought confusion, fingers twisting the hems of a knitted scarf of pastel shades – purple, blue, gray in repetition – listening to the discord of verbal needles launched from the throat of a wayward ruffian, her voice growing, amplifying in his cerebral space until - )

…what was i going to get…? ( / abandoned, the mutter won’t be answered, his pupils spiraling, looking through panels of prescription glass and to a contrasting pair; pickles and oranges, biology and introduction to film, chess and human emotion – or in reality, a woman cowering before another with her metaphorical fangs bared and prepared to bite…with words no less! ) well, she certainly has a talent for getting your goat. ( / it just wasn’t true, the woman was clearly well equipped to infuriate those with strict ideals of…modesty? radical feminism? shaking his head he takes a couple steps closer to the impromptu battlefield, his mind alive with thunder and headache, the increase in sympathy for the poor woman who just wanted a box of cookies )

what’s the purpose of making so many assumptions? does her taste in clothing bruise your identity so much? ( / trouble mimics caffeine, focus is to relieve the cascading thoughts that bit their master. he stands between the two and with a glance back twists the corners of his lips upwards, subtle message of escape artistry – here’s your opportunity – but the woman, bewildered by the folly met on this laborious night, only steps back once, twice, looking between the trinity of vicious girl, tall corpse, and box of sweet circular delicacies …

wait? really? this kind of stubborn determination now? ) 

[gmxgrim]

return ;

back from hiatus! my two weeks were a lot more chaotic than anticipated but hey, a lot can be done in two weeks! i'll be working on some replies before i sleep tonight and actually get to plotting messages. a lot of my threads are from the christmas event so please message me if you'd rather drop it before i replied ( gmxtyche, gmxskye, gmxdealer, gmxyoungji ) i'll let them continue simmering for 48 hours before tackling them if i don't hear back. c:

[gmxgrim]

hiatus ; 

taking a short 2 week hiatus (although i may be back sooner) while i prepare for the semester and seek out an apartment. i may pop in to continue plotting and reply but i can't be certain, thus, the hiatus! 

quick tracker ;

need to contact for plotting ; gmxhyoyeon , gmxmai , gmxkiko , gmxwendy , gmxdealer

- sorry for the delay on all of those, i know i'm really behind. the holidays were exhausting and now i need to focus on finding a new place to live. thank you for your patience!

need to reply to : gmxrogue, gmxtyche, gmxskye, gmxsonar, gmxjoonmyun , gmxdealer , gmxsohee

- & of course, tell me if i made a mistake!

thank you!

[chensoomyun]

©

[gmxmyungsoo]

` the dasher ( part i ) ,

for gmxgrim

( ` he isn’t quite sure what to say when the snowball collides with his cheek. on one hand, the chill doesn’t bother him—he’d hardly be worthy of the name winter if he were—but the ice slipping into his eye has him blinking just the same, even as he glances around the clearing between the cabins for his assailant. all the while, a fort—a castle, perhaps—builds itself in the snow around his feet. as it rises to his hips, and then his chest, myungsoo forms a dense snowball in his palm from the cold moisture in the air ) get out of the way— ( ` he stays to any possible bystanders, while his gaze fixes on the tall male that he suspects; the snowball is launched, manipulated in part by his power as it sails through the air on a course straight for the back of the strangers head )

[gmxgrim]

( / truly - it was all accidental, universe twisting fate through mixing matryoshka dolls, fooling those that would expect red to follow red ) oh no - ( / the gravekeeper! did he pelt a perfect sphere of frozen water particles at 'he who guards the dead' - really, what a fearsome title to hold, and feigning innocence through distraction he began forming another snowball, his back turned and why was his creation so extremely malformed he didn't need to wear gloves so - )

...that...sort of hurt. ( / stumbling, and marveling at the subtle sting of pain he touches the back of his head, eyes wide - no, wider! - mouth crooked and agape, stunned at this most momentous occasion. swiftly the corpse turned around, facing his opponent, only to lose his words at the sight of the man's...snow...fortress? ) ah, i see, so that's how it's going to be. hey! ( / grinning, his voice rose, lifting above the noise of the rowdy guests and the flock of crows that conveniently seemed to follow him everywhere - damn scavengers ) gravekeeper! ( / and thus it began, the makeshift battle, and though it may be no use chanyeol threw the disturbed, pitiful snowball at the man, quick to at least duck for cover this time, choosing a tree as his sanctuary of choice )

[spider-xiao]

What Is This? National Treasure? ||GXSS|| Youngji & Chanyeol

[spider-xiao]

The Christmas music continued to play in the background as the guy still looked more lost than he really should be for being inside of the lodge.  She kept on observing him from where she sat, content with that for the moment, laziness and comfort overwhelming her need for curiosity.  That being said, she wondered what it was he was looking for exactly.

Watching him adjust his glasses, she can’t help but think he looks a bit nerdy, which she was about to comment on, until she remembered that she was the one who worked as a tutor at a school while still retaining top marks herself.  As much as she would like to slack off at Xavier’s, there were too many people to call her out on it if she did.  ”What exactly are you trying to figure out?  I’m intrigued by what could make you look so confused in a place like this.”

The smile did nothing to dispel her dorky image of the guy, but it was kind of cute, so she was still letting it slide, her large eyes watching his movement, actively taking it in.  ”Adventure!?” she spoke up a bit too enthusiastically, then clearing her throat and sitting back in her chair.  ”I mean, I guess I could do something.”  she of course had to keep her cool.  

[gmxgrim]

“What am I trying to figure out…? …That’s a fantastic question.” The murmur settles alongside his contemplative visage, mind tempted to the gravitational pull of whimsy and everlasting thought. Yet even though his pupils drift away from the woman they snap back with enlivened intensity, perhaps obtaining the enthusiasm she hid, now appropriated shamelessly within his retinas.

Is this a kindred spirit? The sparks of energy simmered into quiet heat, the grin diminished into a calm smile, pondering how cool her embers are – and for what reason. She appeared to him as a reserved individual, the expression of hers critical, could sense the disposition of a person accustomed to automatic observation, and still he withheld his temptation to ask her for her assessment so soon. “Wonderful! That’s lucky, just the other day I – oh!” Almost forgetting himself the man rewinds, offering his hand, both in pleasantries, and with intentions of lifting her up from the chair, and into the world of danger and memorizing excitement.

“I am Park Chanyeol, pleased to be your companion in exploration for the night.” It shifts again, the tone his vocal cords command, from the elated to the relaxed persona, though his fingers do curl with the gnawing impatience. “Before we begin the next steps in our adventure, I will ask you – have you heard of the Legend of the Prism Specter? Or, more commonly known as,” It was like this, the articulation of spoken song, and his voice lowered, dark and sweet, always reserved for tales of supernatural incident, weaving a story from gossamer thread. “’The Genosha Poltergeist’?”

[yeollovemebaek]

fluffyeol

[gmxgrim]

Outside Chanyeol’s door was a relatively small box, the card taped across the gift. A bag of cookies rests beside it. The gift was left outside in the wee hours of Christmas morning for the cadaver to find. 

Yeol-ah, 

Thanks, for everything. 

The bracelet is recycled strings from a bass guitar, I thought you’d like that. Merry Christmas!

-Rogue. 

Drunk on insomnia, Chanyeol didn’t return to his room until after the dawn of Christmas began, trapped in imaginary lands and persistent thoughts, demons and the like. He is of stumbling, tired limbs, but can function well enough to pause when his eyes catch a peculiar 3D rectangle – a holiday offering? With haste he grabs the present and the accompanying bag of cookies, clutching them to protect the vulnerable objects from fiendish foes, and continues to free the card from the wrapping.

“…Taemin…” The hall is quiet, and he says not a word for several of time’s long moments, raising the treat bag to eye level, unable to convince his pupils to look away.

“…Is this some sort of sick joke?” Chanyeol’s words are blunt and harsh, but the corners of his lips rise, happy even though he can’t enjoy what his friend baked, his head alive with a spectrum of colors and a rush of fireworks – joy, bliss, cheer – everything the season had promised. And these feelings don’t fade, they permeate throughout him, almost enough to convince him that his cells are regenerating, and he wears the bracelet without hesitation, wrapping it around his left wrist, and thus, disappears into his temporary sanctuary for sleep, and the sweetest of dreams.  

[gmxgrim]

❄ snickerdoodle

[gmxskye]

     ”uh — seriously, don’t you think i have better things to do than suck up the cinnamon with a black hole?” she laughed, digging through the cupboards for said jar of cinnamon, or cinnamon stick or anything that would pass as that spice. she couldn’t help but be amused by her cousin as she looked around for the lost spice that had probably up and decided it didn’t want them to use it for their snickerdoodle cookies. a laugh comes from her when she hears the thud of chanyeol hitting his head on the cupboard door, snickering at him. ( how fitting, considering they were in the process of baking sinckerdoodle cookies. snort. )

     she matched him in an ugly christmas sweater of her own — though hers was much more conventional, just a few reindeer and a penguin skating on the front of hers and she rolls the sleeves up in order to continue searching before a thought occurred to her as she glanced over at the male. “… are we making these just for you to watch me eat them, or what —” she teased, knowing even if he ate a cookie, he wouldn’t be able to taste it and honestly, she was the only one who would be able to enjoy said cookies in the first place. 

[gmxgrim]

Distracted by the gleam in her sweater-penguin’s eye Chanyeol’s mind becomes that of an amalgamation of Christmas, cookies, and Skye using her mutations solely to create inconveniences for other people. Only logic convinces him to pay attention to the world around him, his stare of unamused judgment before it blossoms into joviality with a bark of laughter rupturing the momentary silence, the man sluggishly dragging himself back to his two feet, standing. “Nonsense – that just doesn’t make any sense. Skye, you are brilliant, but you have so much to learn from your elders. Here, listen closely – ” Wrapped in his dramatics he turns his hand in circular motions, and then it juts out, grasping onto a wooden spoon, this one caked in the remains of chocolate chip cookie dough. (Which he imagined to be delicious, hopefully)

“Our purpose is to spread holiday cheer and warmth to all! Or at least, to some people...” Waving the instrument of standard cooking he declares his resolve loud and proud, finishing on a soft, awkward note, his eyes trailing back to the mess of ingredients. “Just picture all those that are going to go without special homemade cookies this season. It’s just unfortunate, and we have to do something.” Signature grin donned without shame, Chanyeol ends his short lecture with an attempt to taste the raw product of magic goodness, biting into the soft dough and…tasting absolutely nothing, such a shame. Casting the spoon back into the dirtied bowl he returns to his search, pilfering through the higher cupboards once more, muttering during his diligent search.

“Maybe…to find cinnamon you have to think like cinnamon?”

[gmxgrim]

- hey, will be getting to replies and plotting messages later today. it's been busy, but sorry for the delays (especially on the messages orz) !

[thedollafam-blog]

Visit Original Link

[ex-gmxrogue-deactivated20150106]

Santa Rogue and the Grim.

— when he finds himself partnerless towards the later dregs of the night, he spots the undead bassist in the corner of the room. His eyes were closed; undoubtedly, he was tuning in on the bass in the song, enjoying the warm undertones that people who only hummed the melodies didn’t seem to know existed, but would notice if they disappeared from the song. He supposes that’s sort of the way life was too, Rogue has a bad habit of ignoring the back beats, the bass and the foundation. Flaws of a vocalist. He pushes through a small throng of people he didn’t yet know and leans next to the Grim, hooking their elbows fearlessly and cupping their palms together. the other male’s lacked warmth, of course. The music was picking up into something more bouncy. “Yo man, let’s go dance.” For two years he’d known him, but Rogue was still too stupid to seek him out when he needed him. He should fix that.

[gmxgrim]

Ephemeral moments were sutured here while he drifted into the background, submerged in the forgotten sounds, sinking, plunging into the ocean of another song – until he feels a murmur of warm on his hand, awaken by the echo of his mortality. “Rogue – ” With Chanyeol’s eyes open, staring down to the shorter man, his visage of peace became one of delight, smile drawn, his fingertips pressing into the vocalist’s metacarpals. “Dance? Oh, Hell yeah.”

A step forth leads to him turning, walking backwards with Taemin’s hand in his, his pupils dilating – entranced by the electronic bass, leisurely compared to the treble’s frantic ecstasy, balanced, and he stole it. In his eyes was the frenzy of life, in his bones equilibrium, and he pulled the boy back into the crowd with him, his laughter smothered by the evening and the rising tide of music.

“I was starting to miss you – as it is we haven’t gone on one holiday escapade! …yet.” He speaks over the noise, and stubbornly (because it’s nice to feel a little warmth, even if human heat feels more like a ghost to him now) Chanyeol doesn’t let go, spins his new dance partner and pulls him back, wandering further in this world of color. 

[gmxgrim]

❄ yeah, and dancing is forever

gmxdealer ; { d a n c e r }

The songs fell into themselves, submitting, dominating one another with chords and harmonies, clashing into the next in cacophonies until they morphed into the siren’s call – pushing and pulling the crowd, spinning between the waltz and body waves. Chanyeol too emerged himself in the phantasmagoria, fingers entwined with various partners, the lights filtered with tints of cyan and pink swathing him in their romantic glow. Another ancient human delight, dancing existed in the dawn of humanity. Imaginably they’d contort their bodies to steel vibrations forevermore, until the Earth is eaten by the sun...

Donning a suit of midnight violet (it’s what was set out for him by his parents when convinced he was truly dead from head to toe – and it was a morbid pleasure to wear it during such an extravagant celebration), the man disappeared from the rendezvous of dancers to the margins where the guests sipped wine and inhaled champagne, where the quiet wallflowers stood watch, the outer-sphere of conversations tangling with chortles and mountains of music.

It was here where he caught a glimpse of her, the wisest person he’s met thus far (he’d relate her to ravens depicted in epic literature, or of paintings that held generations of secrets), and oh so tragically without a current dance partner. “Ms. Streep!” Chanyeol calls to the woman in English, his familiar tone betraying the polite words – but he had grown too accustomed to his neighbor, to the extent that seeing her at this place felt more expected than surprising. “You’re here! Have you come to dance? Ah, but you are in a ballroom, whose sole purpose in existing is to give the sentient a space to express with or without grace.” At the end of his excited words is the offering of his hand, skin bleached by the chandelier’s metamorphosis – the crystals turned to geometrical glass, color of soft fluorescence – and his fingers curl playfully, waiting.

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘Danse Macabre’?”

[celestyeol]

(⊙ω⊙✿)

[gmxgrim]

❄ your aurora borealis

gmxjoonmyun

( / fallen, sunk into the grave of gentle glass, he rested within the walls of white, slowly being covered in a sheet of burial .. sleeping .. sleeping ..

he rises with the moon, staring up to the speckled world, clothes soaked with water, limbs held by the snow pressed into the shape of park chanyeol ) it must be cold .. ( / these dismal words were painful; confessing a longing for days of the beating heart, the expanding lungs, that is painful. no, he could still feel, had a phantom chill wrapped around him, a hug from a lover that'd leave him .. but he had forgotten – was even brought to wonder – what this world would feel like for the living, longed to know hypothermia .. perhaps he had made himself into a fool )

everything will turn out right, the world is built on that. ( / a half filled quote, the corpse mutters its passing, rises from his fragile sarcophagus, and exposes his neck to the world – all his pale flesh dusted in blue, the necklace scar to keep him together, his lips parting, bringing air into his cheeks to breathe it out and see no puff of smoke, only dark, empty space.

but that’s fine, he never misses his history for long.

the man stands steadily, ever so carefully in his challenge to gravity. knees bent, clouds of ice departing from him, his jeans, the sweater, the collared shirt and his hair, black oil swirls clinging to his protruding ears, still no colder, not even shivering. the world is drifting, the sky’s fragments descending, to look upwards is to peer into the endless abyss of their existence – were the snowflakes not of water at all, but debris from their loyal moon? ah, something is hurting, another life vanishing, slipping through the cracks, and he looks, looks to the figure standing too far, and so close, blurred from the congealed rain.

for them to finally be alone here, at this hour .. is this another act of fate? ) kim joonmyun .. ? ( / why, why now? he wipes away the mosaic forming on his glasses, wanted to see him clearly, the man kept in his peripheral vision, now directly there, mere feet away .. ) .. are you trying to freeze yourself out here?