expect me to not be dead soon enough... in the meantime i need to unfollow and refollow the masterlist because of how much time iāve been away! please like this if youād like to get sent a meme ( or if you donāt reblog it, to get poked for plotting ).
to be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse:
both shelter and warning at once, ft. @feyminki.
the spring rain leaves the city awash with the weight of nostalgia, and it does not help that heās meeting the history aficionado, minki himself. having met the other through a random class that he took in the university even when heād known everything prior, experiencing some as well. still, it can be fascinating, how humans view the history as they learn from it. and he didnāt take notice of the witch at first, but once they got along, he feels like this might be an odd dynamic that he relishes in nonetheless.
meeting minki again feels like almost a routine in spite of the possible wandering thoughts, ones which sometimes he doesnāt welcome. this time, the rendezvous point is set at the may fair, where he knows plenty of his kin would gather considering the rumors on the abundance of blood donors. regardless of his age, sometimes he still fails in comprehending why some humans who are aware of their presence would be willingly provide such a service for his own people, even when he can understand the appeal emanated by vampires. perhaps thatās why, and perhaps thatās why plenty of people line up to dazzle him, too, one way or another. heās not interested in them anymore these days, the charm of biting necks has worn off a long time ago.
heās arriving at the fair earlier than minki, it seems. sending a text to indicate that heās already there, waiting for the ( much, much ) younger company to approach him as he stands idly underneath the tree. there were some of those that heās seen through various events, specifically the annual galas held by the council, so he smiles at them politely as they greet him. upon having his company there, however, his smile widens into a grin, which reveals a tad too much of his fangs so he doesnāt let the gesture linger. ānot missing out on the chance to get free meals, are you?ā
at the sweet age of eighteen jiae thought it would be perfect time to go explore the city on her own in her cat form, she shifted into cat sneaking out the window when her parents were fast asleep and went on her way. the experience was exhilarating as jump to one ledge to other getting to a places humans could not and viewing the world through her cat eyes. sadly, the fun journey came to pause as she came face to face with older bigger stray cat for some reason did not like the fact jiae has wandered onto her turf. the kitten was terrified not knowing what to do on how to really fight all she could remember the pain as the cat swiped across her face causing a bloody gash across her nose, she cried out in a agony running away as fast her little paws could take leaving a bloody trail behind her when she was making her escape from the scene.Ā
terrified, jiae found a nice hiding place behind the bins in alley away hoping that cat would not find her again. the cat was shaking like a leaf while tears stream down the face even too frighten to turn back into a human. the nose wouldnāt stop bleeding all she could do is cry out like a sad lost kitten who lost their mother, this was the worst idea ever she thought to herself especially when the heavens open pouring down soaking her fur making her feel so cold. what is going to do? she needed to get to vet or something to get her nose fixed, jiae really should be more careful especially around the street cats. if only she bonded with a witch she would be able to take on any normal cat without a problem but alas no one she wanted to bonded withā¦Ā
seoul had always been a city of subdued reminiscences, one which had paradoxes juxtaposed within each frame. it was a boyhood museum he learned to suppress on better days, and a carnage casket he learned to unearth on worse ones. heād shed too much blood on its soil, the ground fresh of petrichor diluted with iron stench. nowadays, though, he wanted to retrace his footfalls, back to this hometown of his, alongside its serrated memories, jagged around their edges. he let his thoughts wander; it had merely been about a month since heād decided that he would settle once again in this city, believing that the intermittent stay last time would not rouse suspicions among the non-supernaturals.
he found himself ambling into crooks where he usually wouldnāt. running a hand through his bleached locks, he walked deeper into the alley since he was certain that there must be a detour back to the closest subway. he was in the midst of treading into the largely unknown territory when his senses were invaded with the presence of another supernatural. he was quick to jump into a stance of thoughts, drawing closer to the source of the feelings. he did not believe that it was his kin, nor was it a werewolf⦠well, he shouldnāt be worried at this rate, maybe it was just a shapeshifter. turned out he was almost correct, as he crouched to find a terrified kitten trembling behind the bins.
quirking his eyebrows, he looked at the kitten, examining its clawed face. no wonder this being was scared⦠well. he couldnāt just leave it alone, so he hummed, extending a hand to ensure it that he meant no harm. a smile was plastered on his face, alongside the allure otherwise reserved to his preys. āgood kitten,ā he cooed. āwould you come out? donāt you feel cold, hungry?ā he asked, rubbing his fingers to gesture for it come towards him. āi have some food at home. maybe you can come along with me?ā although yes, that was simply the food he kept for show.
to be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse:
both shelter and warning at once, ft. @feyxrina.
days sometimes make him relent to the tints of cabin fever. he believes that while he couldāve simply sketched something with his window blinds rolled down during the noon tessellated with the spring sunshine, relishing in the peace, some of these given times proffer him with some peculiar lonesome inducements. it feels like he cannot truly be free from his fears of being by himself, in which thoughts come to manifest in his head, resonating within. he sure does love his alone times, that much is true, but even the most introverted personality still needs company.
thus, his heading towards rinaās apartment at this hour. the crepuscular light doesnāt bother him much, since the sun hasnāt started shining at a full-force. he takes the first subway to dongjak, right during sunrise, and his arrival is just on time, according to his own plan. upon standing in front of the door of the sharehouse, he knocks on the door, once, twice, before fishing out the key that rina has shared with him⦠which is something that he cannot fathom when it comes down to his own place, exclusively reserved for him. but sheās a lot more laidback, more than he can ever be, so thatās somehow understandable.
he enters the room with a, āhello, excuse me. iām coming in.ā he toes off his sneakers prior to walking into the abode, hoping that thereās no one else save for rina herself. ārina?ā he calls out as he walks in deeper, and as usual, invites himself into the living room. the curtains are closed already, seemingly readied for his arrival. perhaps she has expected another guest, too, who knowsā either way, thereās no one in the living room, so he lets himself towards the couch. now seated quietly, he waits for rina until she walks out of her room, and when she does, he greets her politely. āgood morning,ā he says, a customary smile placed on his face.
itās dark, and in most cases taewoong would know better than to walk through these streets alone at this time of night, especially without anyone from his pack around. but then again, heās sure heās strong enough to handle a mugging, if anything heād probably end up injuring the mugger a lot more than the mugger could ever hope to injure him.
heās got his hands in his pocket, earphone tucked into one ear as he hums a tune. the night is particularly quiet, almost eerily so. itās then when he smells something, something odd. taewoong is well aware that supernatural creatures werenāt something out of place in this town, yet the smell was so pungent, oddly so. a vampire, he thinks, about to continue on his way when the smell only grew stronger, immediately the hairs on his arms began standing. he pulls the earbud from his ear, and both hands out of his pockets.Ā
this was definitely not a normal vampire, and it most certainly wasnāt harmless.Ā āshit,ā he bites on his lower lip and stands on guard. he sniffs the air, once, twice āā and then it lunges at him before heās able to shape shift. a fledgling vampire, drawn insane by itās lust for blood. fuck this guy.Ā
taewoongās got both hands on the vampireās shoulders, concentrating his strength on pushing the thing off him.Ā āfuck,ā he says aloud,Ā āfuck,Ā get off me!ā
late night walks have always been a privilege. he indulges in it, the captive after-dark sounds cocooned in seoul has always surfaced as a form of solace for him, even when he knows heās never alone in these shadows cast underneath the edifices. towering above his surroundings, the canopied spots often abrade his peace, but heās⦠old enough to ascertain his own safety, especially with the century of sharpening his skills as somewhat a hunter of his own rights. itās never those beings that he fears; more often than not, itās himself that heās afraid of. the thoughts: the mind is a hive of stray railways that bring his trains of thoughts to places inconceivable. tonight is of no exception, the forefront of his head is an overflowing sink of terrors that do not feel like his anymore. the tremors of the past, haunting.
heās only snapped away from his reverie when he hears something from afar, too far. the despair in the sound definitely overcomes him with an influx of responses, the fight or flight activated. itās not like heās ever chosen the latter within these last centuries, and after ensuring nobody is around, heās sprinting in the maximum speed towards the source of struggle. his initial guesses are true, the fledgling reeks off hunger as the boy tries to fend the vampire off. his own lust for carnage blooms, and he swallows that as he leaps towards the fledgling, the intention to kill subdued at this point. heās no killer as idris yi, and therefore, he needs to keep it that way. he grabs the fledgling by the neck, the crook of his elbow around the throat to effectively pull him back from the struggling boy. he senses the absence of the fledglingās sire in the vicinity, and for that, he takes the liberty to snatch the young vampireās wrist as he struggles while idris is dragging him back from the victim.
inflicting pain with this kind of direct contact is definitely too easy, and when the illusion is passed, the fledglingās scream fills the street as the onslaught of illusory torment does its work. when heās certain that the fledgling has enough to drain the energy, he lets him go after a few steps back, away from the victim. he stands between the two of them as the fledgling vampire curls on the ground, still in the aftermath of the pain. he looks back at the boy while still being aware of the vampireās presence. āare you okay?ā he asks, ensuring that heās not letting the guard down as heās sure that the fledgling, driven insane by the weight of hunger, might pounce at any given chance.
to be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse:
both shelter and warning at once, ft. @feywonho.
the night is quiet. ripples of distance crowd tide in and out, reminding him of the daylight jaunts that he can no longer indulge in, opting for staying indoors most days to avoid the discomfort. he indulges in the solace, the lethargy that laces around his sinews more visceral than physical at this point. the latter, after all, might be impossible for an undead like him, but he doesnāt deny or defy the presence of the psychological weariness. and for that, he kind of attributes this to the fact that he recently walked out of his confines, eliminating one target he had been setting his mind onto. it was fleeting, the kill. he went straight for the heart, staking the vampire. it happened in a rapid succession, and left no trace except for the fact that he felt that he was being watched.
he disappeared before the third party could chase after him, and he could tell from the precision that the person running after him was also a fellow matured, if not master vampire.
he gets onto his feet after the second series of knuckles rapping on his door. getting to his door does not take longer than a few strides, as even though he has the luxury to purchase an abode much bigger, he dislikes the hollow spaces, thus his opting to stay in a cosier, smaller space where he can reach things with less effort. opening the door, heās greeted by a face more than just familiar: heās known wonho for almost half of his life, and that piano teacher of his does look vexed. āah, good evening to you,ā he says, stepping aside to let wonho in. ānot having an exactly decent night?ā he asks, and is about to offer wonho a bottle of blood before reminding himself that no, not everyone favors the chilled taste of it. he follows wonho, returning to the living room. itās dominated by the monochromatic touch, as well as wooden accents. the full-length windows provide the sight of gangnam in the dark, and he seats himself with his back against them, letting wonho take the couch adjacent to it.
hello, amibros! iāve come here with my son, idris yi ( real name yi han, and has gone through various names before as he lives a nomadic life... being an old hag that he is ). tl;dr he is a master vampire with the ability of pain illusion, and is 625 years old appearing 24. he came from the royal line of joseon, but has largely detached himself from it apart from the noble last name that heās decided to keep. heās one of those nomadic vampires, and heās actually acting as a vigilante called silver, mostly towards vampires, but he has no qualm in fighting other species either if needed according to his ( whacked ) moral compass. in the same vein, heās not aligned with the council and the hunter in any way, a completely independent entity just because that alleviates his conscience. surprisingly yes, he has one. also, he keeps a fairly good rapport with the vampire council as idris, but otherwise, heās not in accord with them, thus the masked identity. also, he works as a businessman and interior designer for his so-called mundane faƧade.
if youād like to plot, please like this post and iāll come running to you. iām reachable via discord and tumblr im, the former being much easier for me, so if youād prefer that method please let me know through im your username so that i can add you! or i can scavenge for it from your intro post, too. here is his about page. i will concoct a plot page eventually, but for now, here are the possible plots iām seeking:
01. / platonic: heās among the older vampires, although considered young for a master, and heās amicable towards the council members and other vampires. heās even amicable to werewolves, and doesnāt appear to care much about sitting in any hierarchy. he treats others as equals, so friends would be plenty, but heās more of a listener. heās mostly inquisitive about others, especially because he thinks they can give him insights and information, considering how pedagogic he is... if the information doesnāt contribute to his works as silver. otherwise, heās also an interior designer, and humans would know that heās very rich considering the inheritance he acquired after hisĀ āparentsā passed. others might know him in passing, heās not exactly the most prominent vampire out there, but heās been around forever, so the last nameĀ āyiā might stick, especially for fellow vampires.
02. / antagonistic: well, itās more likely that people dislike him as silver than as idris, maybe the council and fellow vampires that disagree with whom heās eliminated prior. hunters might also find him as a nuisance plus competitor, considering that he might sweep their targets under their noses. heās infamous for his bow and arrows, and mostly is elusive in front of humans, so his alter ego is in majority only known to the supernatural world. as idris, some might find him despicable with how private he is, as heās not above brushing someone off when he feels that theyāre too intrusive... although hisĀ āintrusiveā description might be a lot more sensitive than others would define it. heās also not afraid of clashes, giving people a cold shoulder. the type to be quietly angry, so thereās that. hit me up if you have any ideas on this, too, especially if it involves actions!
03. / romantic: heās not one to have a string of lovers or anything like that. might be secretly a hopeless romantic, but he hasnāt shown that part to many. the type to be melancholic with love, although heās not into the whole dysfunctional relationships. heās to actually manifest his feelings in the form of acts than words. not exactly the most romantic person out there, but heās going to try in the case that the chemistry aligns. heās not going to be in a relationship with humans, for theyāre too fragile... and while he doesnāt feed on them, theyāre still, well, food. heās not into weaklings, heād say, and to be a lover for him means to be someone who can both protect and be protected. heās not going to have a limping romance, in which heās the one to contribute while the significant other receives only. might have a few exes seeing that heās lived for over six centuries, so please let me know if we can work something out. please let me know if you have any interests in shipping so that we can do something akin to a chemistry test, determining whether they can work out or not. thatās it for now, thank you for reading!