hi i got really sad for a little while and kind of kept my distance from forms of communication (i.e the computer) but i’m feeling a lot better now and i want to get eunmi active again ;;
i’m still going to reply to the threads i had from before, but if you want to drop it, it’s cool just lemme know. i can’t remember all that i’ve plotted with everyone else, so if you still want to get something going with eunmi pls drop me a line? ; u ;
but yes, i am back. hello new people, i will be following you all back now!
Pitch black. Winter fall. Only the sounds of three sets of heartbeats drum erratically in the wood; the other a hum, calm. Everything was in a frenzy-- the instruction rather redundant with their escape already in the midst of deployment.
The forest was unfamiliar. . . yet she knew every twist and turn in her plight. Faces she's never seen guiding her to safety as if they depended on her survival-- all of their survival. The tallest, assumingly the eldest, leads the trio. Her breath ghosts in the unforgiving chill, every godforsaken inhale scratching her esophagus raw.
'Please. . . for the love of God. . .'
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She couldn't trace back to when they had gotten so far. Who were they? Inna? Irina? Why weren't they home? Wherever that was.
Why did it feel so warm with them? Why did it hurt seeing them? And what were they running from?
"INGRID, NO!!"
She losses her step, the fall cushioned under the thick blankets of snow. Rubies stain the disrupted winter-scape; every step, kilometer, that had been covered since their escape all comes surging through her tiny being, ricocheting like a bullet-- the scream she produces from the shock is nothing less than blood curdling. The eldest would have to lift her from her episode; there was no time for pain when death is hunting you down.
"Ingrid, my love, please! We need to move, NOW!"
What was the saying? Mind over matter? Everything ached. She had already vomited once in the midst of escape,the suddenness of her struggle to regain her footing dared to empty whatever were left in her tiny stomach. But she's back on her feet, unsteady.
"Eonnie. . . I can't. . . I can't. ."
"INGRID PLEASE!” she pleas in hysterics, her gaze, wide-eyed, locked with the weary one. The tears in panic overcomes her tiny frame, the warmth that hummed in the elder’s plight. Round eyes of the youth captures her in the night, a light that had always been present, yet intangible, illuminates.
Green. . . it’s a brilliant green. . . and the scarlet that fuels it only makes it burn brighter.
“I. . . Eonni--”
It was too fast. Everything plays in slow motion.
He had been there all along. Following. Hunting. Their stomachs wracked from the density of the air of the wood; it all came from him. Their instincts, sensitive, tasted the hunger-- the pleasure of the hunt. He were a ghost, haunting the living. Producing not a sound. His presence undetectable; his energy all over them.
It was too fast.
In the blink of an eye, the elder was gone. Swept off of her feet; the only remains of her existence laid in the snow. Her prints, perfectly in tact, left reminisce of green, softly rising like a gas, and then-- gone.
Everything plays in slow motion..
“INGRID--”
It was the second oldest. She had been running back to the youngest’s side-- when did she get ahead of everyone? She’s running, a shadow moving just as swift grows in size as she reaches her kin. She’s screaming, yelling for the girl as if speaking her name would summon her, closing the frightening distance between them, the wood, and the beast. Everything cried desperation. The muscles in her face tensing. That green illuminating the entire windbreak brilliantly; the crimson that fuels it reveals the beast in the shadows. His features human-- beautiful even.
For a moment she reasons; ‘He can’t hurt us. . . he can’t’. It was an impossible concept, yet denial couldn’t last. It’s as if he were flying, lunging for the girl in a sprint. The crimson in her fight reflects in his manic stare, tapetum lucidum flickering, indicating he was something less than human. Or more.
The lights around the elder shines so bright the youngest swears she were to burst. And just in that moment’s thought, she does. Like a drill penetrating through concrete, her chest splits-- the last words she’d ever utter choked back in blood as crimson stains over snowfall -- the youngest -- and the monster.
It was like a scene in a movie. His forearm protruding through her breast, something dripping sits in his clenched hand. The elder’s eyes, vacant of spirit, locked with those of her kin as her body falls limp around his strength. The leaking object in his hands fall and he retracts, carelessly allowing the deceased slump into winter. He inhales deeply, his head lulling to a side as every vertebrae cracks in his satisfaction. The exhale is grotesque-- rouge droplets ooze over iron stained whites, spilling over cracked lips through a lethargic chuckle. He mouths something, inaudible, into the night-- his breath ghosting into pitch black, sunset-like prana spills like a fog; gaze falling on the cowering of the youngest, he whispers again.
"I'm starving. . . "
He begins to advance; she paralyzes.
"Please. . . take care of me--"
Her breath leaves her; he lunges, and then. . .
She falls-- the hardwood of home ever so graciously cushions the fall.
It’s daylight, summer. Despite the way she’s awoken, her eyes are still glued together with sleep; reminisce of the dream already fleeting from her memory. It’s been days, and she’s been having what feels like the same dream. She could never remember who all were there, but it was cold-- the coldest she’s ever felt. She could never remember the names that were said-- it hurt too much to focus on, anyway. All she could remember-- all she could feel was him.
It’s been so long since his physical presence, but she knew his energy was still engulfing her. She convinces herself that tonight would be different, that the omen over her dreams was just stress. but she knew better.
I might be MIA for a few days due to a really big move that I’ll be doing with just myself and some friends. We’re going to be driving cross country and more than likely getting settled into things (i’m not even sure when i’ll be back to wifi access???) so just letting everyone know that I’ll be back in a few days ; u ;
today is also a big pack day so, yeeee.
he inhales sharply, teeth gritting as he staggers his way through the haze of forestry. his fingers grip onto bark as he drags himself forward, staggering over tired joints and aching muscles. he’s bleeding, cuts on every span of his body– arms, legs, chest, face and neck; he looks straight out of a horror movie, clothes torn and singed.
it isn’t his day at all.
he’s weak, having been drained from the beating sun throughout the day only to be ambushed by a pack of hunters for trying to feed. he hadn’t known it to be a trap; the male had been wide-eyed and young, something quick for sunggyu to eat and dispose of.
he wasn’t supposed to be a trained little shit armed with fucking knives and stakes.
“god,” he inhales sharply, blood in his mouth as he leans forward, body pressing against a tree as he catches breath. “damn it. damn it all to hell.”
he pushes off, groaning out at the stretch of muscles and skin. he stumbles, pushing against the force that tells him to lie there and wait– until he’s weak and gone and finally dead for good. there’s a house, a small cottage looking place a few feet ahead of him. he pushes, strains himself though the pain is there.
he falls against the door when he reaches out, puffs of hot air escaping him as he slams his fist into the wood. he leans against it, jaw rigid as he slaps his palm a few times over the surface. “is anyone home?” he rasps out, voice hoarse. “please, open the door!”
Her entire week was gracious with how well sales were going for her homemade remedies and elixirs. The trips were shorter, which was a plus. The money came in fluid and abundant, which was even better. It was the first night in a while that she had returned to that little hole in the earth she calls home. Taking extra time to roam the market for top slices of meats for a celebratory meal to accompany the homegrown veggies she had harvested right as spring ended. It was a while since she prepared her favorite (dukkbeagi bulgogi; the only thing she could prepare without turning the stew into a poison). It truly was going to be a good night.
She had just finished putting the last adjustments in the pot. The aroma of sweetly marinated beef and vegetables filling the little space she dedicates as the kitchen. She’s careful, carrying the stone pot to it’s spot in the middle of the table, accompanying the rest of the ‘spread’ (rice; the only other thing she could prepare without producing casualty).
She had just settled into her only seat at the table when suddenly--
“Is anyone home?”
It’s too alarming; her gaze locks immediately to the source of the pleas.
“Please, open the door!”
There was so much distress. A fierce scarlet hums over the entirety of the wood, whomever the owner of the voice belonged to behind the entrance exerting extreme levels of their survival instinct. It appears as flames, their life surely in danger. She had to do something. She needed to do something.
“Wait!” she calls out in a panic, her instincts taking over her actions before she could fully think them through. Maybe it was just that heightened empathy, or the stress in the sluggish knocks rapping at the door. She’s quick in her movements, grabbing a towel and one of her more potent ointments, rushing to open the door.
He was like a scene out of a horror movie. Bloodied. Wounds, freshly inflicted it seemed, cover the entirety of his form. There were no other colors to read; it was only red. Fierce, and seemingly depleting. She fears for him, that fact so evident in doe eyes, wide and shaken. If she hadn’t quickly rushed him inside, she would have succumbed to the energy of the situation, dropping all the contents in her hands. But she remains (somewhat) calm, guiding him carefully inside. Delicate with guiding him to the couch nearby, kneeling before him as she begins to inspect. She tries calming. She has to keep calm.
“Who did this?!” she cries, empathetic, the meal behind the pair long forgotten as worried hands ghost over the span of the cuts. She hadn’t seen something so horrifying, and. . . was he burned? “Hold on mister!” she continues to cry-- so much for keeping calm?
She takes off with the towel, rushing to the kettle she had going for her tea before bed. Pouring the contents over it, wringing it out with hushed sighs at the extremes on her hand that almost scalds. She returns to his side. “I’ll clean you up okay. You’re really lucky,” she hums, that natural smile of hers finally making its appearance, “there’s so many things here to help, and you’re in time for dinner! Don’t worry. . . I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
"Welcome to casa de Eunmi! Did I say that right? I was never really good at foreign languages. Anyway, welcome to my piece of mind, my pride and joy-- it's honestly a gift. An amazing woman lived here before me. . . she was so kind to me, I really do miss her. But it's funny. . . I do still feel her wherever I'm just resting or working on more medicines. But, that's besides the point! I really want to bring friends over, but, there's not many people I actually know besides my customers. It's okay. I'll have the chance soon. Ah-- it is a little messy! I never have the time to clean, sorry. There's bottles of medicines and things all over. I also started getting into making medicinal wine, so at least there's a sweetness in the air when you walk in. And no, there's no bugs or anything even though it's like, kind of in the ground. It's really a cozy place, you should really come by sometime. We'll make cookies!"
“Luna,” she calls to the moon, arms outstretched towards twinkling beams. “Luna. . . you’re so beautiful tonight!"
The night skies were gracious with the lack of drifting clouds. No blocking any of the constellations nor the calming hum of moonlight. She had wandered a little further away from her little hut, where home was hidden beneath a thicket of greenery. The nearest clearing, the best spot in all of the forest for stargazing, laid hundreds of meters from her home. It was never a good idea going out so far in the middle of night, but just like Eunmi, what’s the use in letting moments the way they materialize in your mind pass? Life was too short (for some). The moon is too beautiful.
The way she sways through night and moonlight, her entire being succumbing to an inaudible melody, her movements are fluid and erratic all at once. Childlike features beam brilliantly just as her companion in the sky; chilling winds tossing chocolate locks. She looks possessed. She was possessed.
"LUNAA!”
Her voice was too clear, it carries with ease across the entire field. She should have been considerate of the life in the plain and their home, but with the waning moon illuminated so brilliantly, what did it matter? She was alone. Or so, she thought. Precautions were never a thing in her book, but with it being so close to another full moon, she should have considered her surroundings before waltzing the night like a spirit. She was too caught up with spinning in the night, dancing to the sounds of restless insects, the coos of the nocturnal; the sounds of heavy footsteps, a distance away, unheard.
“Luna!!” she calls to her distant companion once more, the sets of steps multiply, closing in on childlike snickers and uncoordinated pliés and pirouettes. “Luna, take me away!! I want to be with you!”
It wasn’t too long before something begun to fulfill some version of that request. There were too many, all at once. The ringing in her voice, the movements of pale fabrics twirling in the clearing halt immediately as the earth begins to shake. The immediate sense of danger, so late, grounds her to the earth. Immobile. Their silhouettes were all she could see, in a blur. They were moving so fast. Too fast.
"Wanna know a secret? I have a friend, a dance partner, actually. Everyone knows her, but no one knows her like I do. She's really popular. . . and so beautiful. No one shines like Luna does. When I feel lonely, all I have to do is look towards the skies. She's a really good listener, I tell her all my secrets. I can always count on her, she's always there. She's my best friend. . . I can always be myself around her. Some nights, I just-- I can't help myself. When she's smiling at me, I feel. . . so alive. Not that I'm not breathing already, but I can feel all the life and light inside of me-- and then I dance. Luna always said that I'm one of the best dancers she knows! Honestly, I feel like I'm in love when I'm with her. . . she's my everything. . . You should dance with her sometimes. You'll fall in love too.
Sunset. The best time to really get the full scent of the wildflowers that grace the plains of Guri. There was something about the warmth of an evenings summer breeze, the way it enriches the aromas of the earth and skies. The silence of humanity. The breath of mother nature twisting in chocolate locks, a faint chill in the movements of the winds nipping at rosy cheeks. It was definitely the perfect setting for her evening walk back home.
Or rather, dance back home.
Her steps are leaps; unskilled pirouettes. Her humming shakes through the distance buzzing of cicadas, the tune accompanied by the midi melody, the standard factory ring tone she played way too often. She amateurly follows along with every pitch, out of range.
It was one of those longer routes she had decided to take the moment she finalized the last sale for her own, personal, quota of the day. What would have been hours of extra wandering and pitching goes into pacing along the most serene routes, somewhere along the borderlines of the wood she claimed home and the meeting forests, one of her favorite paths; it had the most flowers.
Unlike her usual shortcut home, there was a road that stretched for miles from the city into the countryside. Children flocked along the sides, free to play with the stress of elementary studies behind them. Their auras were her favorite (a strong orange accented by a yellow flame; the absence of pressures of body image and other social restraints yet to taint their esteem). Some would dance with her; the fact that she danced barefoot, shoes in hand, felt inviting rather alarming.
"Come back tomorrow eonnie!" the smallest of the bunch calls out as what seemed to be the teen version of the child gathers the others for their respective supper.
"Ne! Eat a lot, Jisool-ah!"
Her eyes are fixed on the sun as it takes its leave to the horizon. Traces of her little companion’s prana tickles her skin; their raw energy amplifying her own even after retreating back to their concrete homes. The dancing reduces to soft hums, sans the midi tune. She continues on at a pace that's more median. The earth stills. The colors fade. She’s alone.
Or so, she thinks.
“Oh--”
It's faint, as if someone were injured. Depleting in a soft glow, a piercing cerulean highlights a pale, translucent, scarlet. It was a harsh blend, almost as if they were combating. Yet, they moved in harmony, reducing and expanding-- pulsating.
"That's so--"
Her feet moves before she can even fully assess what the contrast in colors could even mean. Not that the knowledge would stop her, anyway. She sees pages first, propped up on a pair of knees. Dark locks following, shadowing over symmetrical features-- it was a man. She continues to approach him, though, her gaze locks on the task in his hands
“What’s got you miffed?”
Not the best choice of words. It was the only thing she could make sense of the lingering rouge. The bounce in her tone helps it come off as pure ignorance rather unnecessary hostility. Her eyes fall to the pad before anything else, her curiosity always getting the better of her. “Oh!,” she exclaims, unprovoked. She drops to his side-- had he given her the OK to sit beside him? “That’s actually. . . kind of interesting. Where is this? Is this here? How long did this take you? Do you have other drawings?” The onslaught of questions begins at a miraculous pace-- her invasiveness affecting her mannerisms as she leans in, a little too close . She examines the details a little too intently, peering into the fields as if the charcoal etched winds were moving. The questions never end.
“This is such a pretty drawing but. . . does this place stress you out? Your colors. . .” she trails off, doe eyes widen at the twisting of subtle reds and piercing cerulean, his pure pranic essence illuminating his being. “I’ve never seen these guys mix,” she starts again, her eyes fixed above his head, “it’s really pretty. . . an sooo strange.” She finally tears her gaze away from the intangible, this action in itself a reminder to hold back on the energy talks.
Her eyes find his-- she gives nothing less of full eye contact. There’s a void in his gaze, almost dead compared to those of the children, even some adults. But, just like Eunmi, her smile is warm-- welcoming.
HI LITTLE ONES
I just wanted to say thank you for all the welcomes, every one brought a smile to my face and I’m honestly really excited about developing this nutcase Eunmi with everyone \ o/
As of now I’m (slowly) getting starters up for Myung and Scarlet, which means I’m almost at max for the amounts of para’s I’ve set for myself, but I still want to plot with everyone and get some little interactions going while I knock some of the lengthier stuff out of the way!! I really want Eunmi to explore bits of everyone’s muse, so please fell free to add me on my general AIM! (milk.tea33)
I might try and get some posts up. pls don’t pay attention to how ugly eunmi’s bio page is, i will fix that in due time. I might collapse in a few since I actually slept at 6AM and woke up at 10 to do press for a show. SO I AM SLEEPY.
I’ll be making my rounds of messages when I’m in a more rested state, until then, i’m probably gonna poop around on AIM and work on eunmi stuff until I pass out.
I’M SO EXCITE TO BE HERE OMG
bonus press pic bc i still can’t believe epik high is hERE
“Seriously, it was like an angel told me about it. The only things I can really remember is waking up around all sorts of animals; rabbits. . . chipmunks. . . stray dogs. Like it were little kids school, they all lead me here in a straight line,I know those little boogers were looking out for me. Everything was so. . . perfect. It’s hidden, which helps--- the wolves never find me here. I have so much space for growing the herbs I need to sell, and the air is so clear for feeling the vibrations of the earth. Sometimes it feels like this space is supposed to be shared, but I can’t even remember my name, let alone companions. But it’s okay. . . I’ll find friends. Who knows. . . a visit seems so near in my immediate future.”
vaporwave
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titsay
izzy806
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romaincrisis
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