sempiternal. @masuoi-blog - Tumblr Blog

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

one of the great things about jangmi was that she obtained control in other ways that didn’t require immense help from others. she had the wits to get her in the places she needed to be and had no problem struggling to get there. in a visual way, she was fighting for herself and that inner flint of desire to seek the perfection she wished to view in the world. whether it was physically or metaphorically, she was keen on building herself up to that point of glory. and yet, despite such seemingly pure intentions, she always seemed to somehow get herself in trouble. when she switched lives with her twin sister the change in location and adaption nearly caused the big secret to be revealed as there were certain specifics the pair didn’t know about each other. or how on occasion she’ll be staying over at someone’s home and realize later on certain people where not informed of her presence and saw it as something secretively sultry or discreetly toxic. but out of all of her unplanned chaotic outcomes and self desires this painted– or shall i say sprayed scenario was one of the more humourous ones. she felt no guilt like always too, and his retort only caused her eyes to obnoxiously roll. how could she forcefully ‘talk him into’ doing something he had the control of determining? she wasn’t that controlling.

and her eyes rolled, those little brown irises swarming in the horizon of her lids as she merely mocked his statement while she was cleaning up the mess they had created. it was a two part crime after all. “are you chickening out now? its already been done.” she was referring to the graffiti on the brick walling, all frugal and colourful. “if you don’t want to sign your name just use some sort of code, like a123. don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” that last line had her snorting too; who did she even have to tell? no one. “i think it turned out pretty nice though, better than my last attempt at block art.”

#lost words.#animatxr

( class enrollment has came back around, so while i re-adjust to things i might be (?) slow for a few days on here. patience is virtue, so i’ll get to my replies asap!

#ooc.#maybe even do some in this early hours of the morning if i can manage.#i have a half written reply in my drafts too

aesthetics.

your muses aesthetic. anyone can do this, list your muse’s aesthetic from tastes, smells, outfits, and sceneries. add as many subjects as you like, it can help with people tagging you in aesthetically pleasing things towards your muse.

tagged by: @sunmichi ( you’re a doll, i love this. ) tagging: @ohyeoyeo @jiwing @chojoon @beateninlxps @sohmo @bangyeong @animatxr @verlossen ( + anyone else interested! i just tagged some random followers. )

TASTES: the bitter taste of dark coffee in the morning, skimmed with a pinch no-fat milk and neglected any sweetener. soft sweetness of coke zero. dried mangoes, peaches, and bananas; occasionally banana’s with a smidge of hazelnut spread to flavour. kimchi stew with soybean sprouts on the side for colour and consistency. sweet kabocha squash salad with the removal of excess mayonnaise and raisins. small and thinly cut portions of ribs that are properly marinated.

SIGHTS: corners of the walls that no one dares to stare at, tears and worn damage clearly distinct as time goes by. sandy chalk scribbled onto sidewalks and brick work. lonesome swings that move with the weight of the wind. graffiti distinctly marking it’s territory with words one doesn’t understand nor would choose to understand completely. rain running down the window right before a storm is about to settle in. the zeroing out of a scale before weight is emitted.

SMELLS: enticing aroma of eucalyptus that grows in flare the moment it is cut, and continues to spark long after it has met it’s peaceful end. the strong burning scent that comes from a large destructive fire, and the subtle waft of an indoor fire pit. the glaze of a sweet hawaiian candle with a hint of vanilla. fresh paint being lined down the explicit open space of walls.

SOUNDS: minor rumble of a stomach before curling up into the embrace of a blanket. a heater sparking to life and fueling itself on. traffic lights beeping and buzzing that dilute the chitter chatter of strangers wandering by. the creak of a wood floor as it is being stepped on. roller blades sliding down a smooth surface and the break that squeaks when pressure is emitted onto the ground.

SENSATIONS: an elongated scratch along the ridges of the back, soothed by the soft fluff of a blanket that erases any tingle. hair being gently tickled against the skin as it’s being braided back to welcome the cool sensation of air to hit the same areas of skin. smooth glaze of lip balm softening the roughness of lips.

OUTFITS: dark jeans matched with long sweaters. fancy button up shirts that tuck into form-fitting bottoms. suits firmly pressed and aligned to the body. shoes that offer comfort and support. boots that reach the knees and offer no forming of rubbing irritation. socks that are discreetly hidden.

BODY: soft thighs that don’t meet in the middle and rather form protrudes at the hips. collarbones that expose the clean complexion of the shoulders and the smooth curve of the neck. lips that form a heart when smiling, and cheeks that form distinct bone structure in the process. other smiles that cause the eyes to form small slits and gums to be exposed in enthusiasm. smooth hands that show no density of hard pressed knuckles. bruises that elegantly cascade on the skin that almost looks as if art had been painted onto the body itself.

OTHER: pastel colours that blend effortlessly. neatly organized and arranged areas that show no sense of disregard or laziness. solitude that warms the heart and chills the bones. the soft flare of a lens. unconcern of the knowledge and research that seems to grow day by day.

#straight edge.#my meds are making me tired so ill go sleep then try and spark interactions tomorrow

“ i don’t go looking for triggers.”

the first idea to spark in her mind was a gun, and not one of those playful ones for horse races, or the cute ones that are used at festive events that pop confetti. or can that even be classified as a gun? either way, let’s just say that the imagery in her mind wasn’t one that was all that pretty or a fun place to be around. in a paraphrase, it was morbid. grotesque and gloomy, nearly resembling the world hades paved before persephone took shelter in his heart. dark paved grounds, black roses with thorns, and a scenery that never saw the light of day. and somehow through all of that imagery she was smiling, gleaming at such tragedy before coming to her senses and realizing she wasn’t alone. he was there again, and this time around it didn’t feel like a teacher-student interaction. it was softer with a burning undertone, the tips of her fingers running along his cheek as if all of her thoughts could evade from something so simplistic. and bam, within seconds her switch was going off again, the length of her fingers forming a gun-like impression that was gifted with a pop of her tongue hitting her cheek for exaggeration. “click clack, boom.”

#lost words.#( this is fluffy for 1 second LMFAO #jiwing

bangyeong:

Chaeyeong didn’t expect to see the other in her house for the second time. Normally, she wouldn’t mind ( oddly enjoying the other’s company ) but after a rough day and not having one peaceful night, seeing Jangmi again in her house was something she didn’t want to deal with. ❛I assume my manager let you in and then left you alone or then you have learned to pick up locks?❜ The brunette female inquired after closing the door and stepping further in. ❛What is our plan today?❜ Instead of pushing the person away and declaring how tired she was to have everyone around, the young female was actually curious to hear why the younger one has once again decided to appear in her house and grace her with her presence.

truth to be told, she actually did know how to pick locks. and the funny part was the both of them knew that exactly, it was a newly developed inside joke that brought laughter to the crescent of her lips as she pulled a bobby pin out of her messily brushed hair, the dark locks cascading over the small purple strands that fell down her shoulders. too bad it wasn’t how she actually got inside though, but there was also no harm in playing around-- especially when the truth was already obvious. “fudge berries that was sure a hard door to crack down, were you hiding something in that little hole? i practically dug to china getting through it.” now that the atmosphere was more soft it was a great transition for the real reasoning she ended up in this place to begin with; no jokes aside.

now, if she wanted to be completely open and honest she would’ve gave the whole rundown on the new striking employee named joomi that became a walking trigger for her, how she nearly got the car she was borrowing crashed against a curb, or the usual fallback of she had nowhere else to go. the last one was more or so a lie too, considering the fact there was always one back up home she could confide in for solitude when her situation became that desperate. but no one knew that, for that was built with an individual that would tie her back to her past. thus she was now left with one alternative, a little white lie that could be perceived as factual information. “i missed crashing here.” oh, even a sideways compliment too, how double beneficial. “i brought you fresh strawberry shortcake from the bakery, to you know, make up for my intrusion.” it was also to make it seem as if she was going to have something to eat that day, but the choice was selected specifically on her knowledge of chaeyoung’s glee for strawberries. “do you got any new gossip for me? i feel out of the loop.”

#lost words.#bangyeong #( hey thanks for the quickly posted starter!#( i added some pre-est background i hope thats okay. because if jangmi is going to be at someones house chances are she'll know them sorta -#( - well and vise versa

( @jiwing )

“Ah, but you aren’t cruel. You can act cruelly, I believe that, but that isn’t who you are. There’s a difference, no?” Shamelessly, he empties the remaining candies on to the tissue in between them, his almost translucent fingers sorting them into a hierarchy of flavours as he speaks. Lemon, orange, watermelon, blackcurrant and strawberry, in order of his own personal palette. It’s a tedious task that he completes with pedantic preciseness, but when he’s done he sits back with a smile so patient that his eyes are reduced to laughing. Satisfaction. He pops a bright yellow candy into his mouth and it rests against the inside of his cheek as he speaks. “Besides, acting cruelly isn’t ever much fun.”

it was as if the two of them were sinking, falling farther and farther into the elusive pool that her mind had flooded around them. it was discomforting too, the ridges of her spines being met with sensitive chills that caused her to spark upwards and sit more straight. that was how she was raised to sit too, but those days are just a passing memory that doesn’t create any sort of reaction. right now, her only concern is to try and make sense of what he was trying to embrace her on. she felt as if she was sitting in those classroom settings all over again, the teacher organizing their desk while attempting to give her some life advice on what and what not to do. in this scenario those assorted candies were the papers, all neatly categorized on that white tissue paper that acts as a desk. usually she would just walk away from these sorts of settings, dictate that no one knows what they are talking about and it’s just a waste of lung capacity to try and enlighten her with their ideology. yet, in this instance, curiosity tugged at that tingle within her and made her want more. to hear more, almost as if he could make that crucial life vs. death decision for her. it was extremely out of character too, her face turning from a scold to soft irises blooming with hope, a tint of temptation residing on her mouth whenever her lips parted to finally speak. to finally get answers.

so she chose her next actions carefully, her fingers fumbling in her hands that acted like a switch to another realm. one second, calm. another, irritated. another, solemn. she was a switch with multiple outlets and only one capacitor. “what makes you think it isn’t any fun?” the setting now transitioned to one that felt like an interview, the student with her elusive notepad and gear shifting mind ready to drop the bomb any second. in her personal opinion acting cruel was indeed tiring, but also thrilling. she could say and do as she pleased, trample on the content of someone else, and even if the blowup was outrageous she could still bask in that glory of, ‘hey, i owned you.’ and so the questions continue. “what makes a cruel person then? let’s use these candies for example. if i were to tell you that if you keep eating like this you’ll be fat, or if i silently throw them away while thinking the same thought, is there a difference?”

#lost words.#jiwing

❝You can’t take back what you said.❞ [ from any muse, please. :)

she saw that secretive name today– all neatly aligned on the pristine name tag of the new employee at the bakery. ‘oh joomi’ it read, the three symbols adequately spaced on the silver band that rested on the mysterious females shirt. if jangmi could have it her way she never would’ve allowed that female to be hired in the first place, ultimately going with her demeanour that would give her the ability to get whatever she wanted. however she wanted it. it was kind of hypocritical in a way too, to go to extremes and make all these claims about how she is alone, no family, lacking majority friendships, yet to still stand here and be so worked up over the presence of the life she tried to tell herself didn’t exist. maybe she was more than just a lost body, but a lost soul too, all trapped and stuck in the terror of her mind that kept her murmurs of curse words stringing along. “oh joomi, kill yourself.” the oh wasn’t even intentional as a surname either, it was a complete coincidence that a deep sigh was so coiled around that devilish name. the name she went by at one point too; the life she wanted so desperately to seize to exist.

but the story about a roaming soul doesn’t end there, this was merely the beginning. she was caught red handed too, the cynical whispers being halted before anymore threats could fall past her faint lips. shit, play it innocent. act as if the other party is just plain delusional and doesn’t know what they are talking about. “excuse me?” her eyes held a glare to them, the whites of her teeth digging into that soft pink flesh of her lower lip that nearly formed a perfect scowl. “i didn’t say anything, and even if i did you have no right to be listening. go be like buzz lightyear and buzz off.”

#stories.#consilian:kihyun #( i read through about five bios and thought kihyun would fit the best!#( and btw kudos to you for having an assortment of muses all with progressed bios #( 10/10 already a great blog #consilian

have you seen this girl? please report if you have any information on her whereabouts! < oc. lit. selective. >

#krp oc #krp lit #krp ad #krp follow #hey! huhu click information for sentence starters to send.

missing girl: cho jangmi.

ALERTED: 18 MAR. 2016. LAST SEEN: 16 MAR. 2016.

It has been reported that the daughter of the Communications Company has been filed an official missing person after not returning to the family home for 48 hours. There is no known initiative as to why she would leave, and due to some of her belongings missing from the home it is assumed she left on her own free will. If you have any information due to her whereabouts please contact the local police department to help solve this case.

EYE COLOUR: DARK BROWN. HAIR COLOUR: HONEY BROWN. HEIGHT: 162 CM. WEIGHT: 43 KG. LAST SEEN WEARING: A BLACK DRESS. LAST SEEN: A PROMOTIONAL EVENT.

#straight edge.

“hello, my name is cho jangmi.” the mirror does not move or speak back, simply reflects back that same look of confusion that is expressed on her face. it’s a confident confused state though, a look that is trying to give herself reassurance that she is okay, she is not alone, things will be fine. “i am 21 years old. i like my coffee with skim milk, and my breakfast plain.” there, she has earned a deserved nod of acknowledgement. “i am not lost, i am found.” well, that wasn’t legally correct, but for the sake of her sanity let’s go ahead and agree. “i either spend my afternoons pet sitting or doing research on human nature.” that research was technically more of her just wandering around, using false names when someone sparked a conversation, and ending back up in the same place she started at. but hey, it was some sort of research, she did take mental notes of the behaviour of others.

“i live alone and don’t have any history of my family.” well, uh. that wasn’t true at all. her twin sister is constantly on the look for her, and the two adults who raised her are worried sick and even at moments fearful she may be dead. it’s a far stretch and strong assumption, i know, but when an individual seems to drop off the face of the earth for eight months some distorted thoughts come to mind. there is no public records of her. no bank account, credit history, official employment status, signed living status, number attached to her name. it’s almost as if she doesn’t exist at all, and that becomes a prominent theory when she steps away from the mirror, the reflection she depends on disappearing just as soon. “i have to go now.”

#straight edge.