SPIDER / BITE.

— 안채솔, 23 designer, debutante elysium ( neo-seoul )

[xxxxneojinsol]

shallow.

[neochaesol]

neojinsol‌:

“i’m trying my best not to,” jinsol isn’t sure what the point of the interaction is. if she’s drunk enough that it’s reoriented her general modus operandi. if it’s a change of heart. a desire for change. a moment of fleeting insanity. he’s not sure he wants to be a part of whatever odd game chaesol’s playing at either, however. not unless he’s certain it will bring him a decent chunk of money from the exchange. however that guarantee is still hanging in the air between them. enshrouded by words that he can’t find the point to. 

something rolls closer and clicks into place when she continues to talk. like everything is being pieced together in a slow-revealing architectural representation of what chaesol’s after. and jinsol, sharkish in nature smells blood in the water at those words. it’s a mangled thing – need. a word that’s driven into his own weaknesses. a word that, as far as he’s concerned is paramount to power. she didn’t say it outright, no. but it feels like it. if someone doesn’t want something and still strives toward it, what else could it be but need? so he shoulders that assumption with a smile that reads too sharp, jagged. a shark-toothed smile to fit his disposition.

“of course,” he nods in ascent. and he can. concentration and creativity, a project he’d undertook long ago. it’s a well sought after combination. 

“asking me for something’s a favor. you’re buying.” jinsol corrects her, taps a few fingers against his own elbow in time to the music. “people get addicted to the emotions, or their capabilities while channeling those emotions. i don’t know what you’ll do with them, or if you’ll depend on them.” he states, and it reads almost like a disclaimer. he often doesn’t care about the predicament that his clients can drill their way into. but he’s not so sure he wants chaseol in front of him, accusing him of lying simply because she wanted to start playing with fire of her own volition. 

he slips his phone out of his pocket, scrolls through a few pages of presumed products. settles on one, taps at a few buttons and a small floating holographic picture form. a brief description, along with a price. it’s been inflated in this exact moment. but she can afford it, and she’d gone and made her necessity apparent to him. who would he be to do otherwise? it’s not as if she knows the going rate anyway. and if she did, would he care?

not really.

she was embarrassed, that much was obvious.

nevertheless, chaesol knew that she couldn’t let her pride swallow her whole. now that she had given him a potential reason for excitement, she needed to go through with her plan. despite a relatively composed mental state, her body language was beginning to reveal how she truly felt—how her limbs wouldn’t allow her to continue this feigned bravado. arms were folded over her chest, knees were locked, and her posture was nowhere near stunning. she dripped insecurity from her pores, and she was just dumb enough to convince herself that jinsol would buy heavily into her words rather than her vessel. however, he wasn’t stupid. as much as she found him to be an annoyance, she couldn’t deny that he was devilishly smart; especially when it came to his business. hell, he may as well be turning a once straight edge into one abused—riddled with dips and curves; unpolished.

“asking, buying, whatever... all i need to know is if you can help somehow.” how sad; pathetic. her tone was laced with an aching desperation, and she loathed that it came to this. so much for being headstrong. “i’m pretty sure i fucking know what this shit can do to someone. being reminded is only gonna make me change my mind, and i don’t know if i can afford to do that.” at least she was honest. “what i’m hoping for is that, like, this’ll just be a one off purchase, if that makes sense. that, maybe after this one try, i’ll be ‘fixed’ and can get back to work at a better pace without needing to stoop down to a level i never wanted to go down to.” she knew that she was perhaps divulging too much personal information, but chaesol’s always been an open book. it’s hard for her to keep even her most private thoughts contained.

however, before she was able to expose any more of her now dimmed soul, she was treated to a glowing display of his abundant stock—each price not at all appearing too detrimental to her bank account, which is what she was expecting. “how convenient,” she remarked, rolling her eyes. “i don’t know what makes you think i know what any of these things are. sure, the small descriptions are there, but i need actual guidance. in a fucked up way, i’m kinda putting my trust in you.” that statement burned as it escaped her mouth, and she was left with the foulest taste upon her palate. “what would you recommend for me? i need one good high, and that’s it.”

here she was: a girl poisoned. let’s hope she can find an antidote before she’s forever sick.

“i’ll pay whatever you charge. just help me... please?”

[leaderirene]

[neochaesol]

TATTERED.

안채솔  ➝  이성기  ! chaesol’s apartment. elysium, 07:36 pm.

she’s dressed in an old, oversized sweater of his, and it hangs off of her voluptuous frame quite loosely; her long tresses messily cascading down the length of her back, and draped over her shoulders, as she’s seated with proper posture before a mannequin. her tireless fingers work to smooth out what’s been designed, and even though she hates to admit it, chaesol will forever know lee sungki well enough to know what pleases him; will forever know his aesthetic, so to speak, more than any other person in elysium. she’s spent countless hours observing him in a way that’s far too intimate for strangers—hell, too intimate even for FRIENDS—and somehow, she’s memorized each dip and curve of his musculature. she’s taken the time to care for his more fragile human parts, and to marvel at the beauty that was his robotic anatomy in a way that’s almost obsessive, but it’s rendered her speechless time and time again. to her, he’s the most stunning creation she’s ever set her sights on. he’s everything that she wants to build and create. he’s everything she wished she was strong enough to commit to. though, she knew that it was too late feel regretful. that’s what the rational part of her brain beckoned. the more bold, and daring, part though? well, it’s still trying to convince her that he’s the only man that’ll ever be the perfect fit for her, and what’s fucked up, is that she’s naïve enough to believe it.

after all, to some he’s a monster, but to her, he’s a masterpiece. to some he’s reckless and foolish, but to her, he’s invincible.

seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses has never been more frustrating. it’s almost as if she’s been caught in this endless loop of self-sabotage ever since she met him, but despite the fear, and despite the overwhelming feelings of unease, she still has hope that she’ll learn to be fearless in his presence; learn to be fearless enough to fall into him again with plans to stay. the only troublesome thing, though, is that she has no idea if he’d even want her to occupy that much space in his life again. if it didn’t work out well the first time, what would give him any sort of confidence that it’ll magically work out the second go around? the two of them are confused, and lost, in their own senses, but maybe, together, they can combine the pieces of the maps of their lives to make things make sense somehow; to navigate their way though the befuddlement and doubt. it’s a thought that’s been present in her mind for a long while now, but she’d never let him in on it, no. as mentioned, she’s terrified of the promise; of the commitment.

so, for now, she works meticulously to fix any loose threads and messy hems. distracting herself as best as she can to not become wrapped up in a whirlwind of negative thinking patterns. sure, he was her beloved in the past, but now, he’s merely a client of her’s.

are they friends? she’d like to think so. she didn’t want to get her hopes up though. 

now, she waits for him to enter her apartment, and butterflies are aflutter within her abdomen, and she inhales deep breaths to calm her nerves. however, even with all of her self-soothing techniques, she catches herself looking over her shoulder and at her front door every few seconds; eager. wishing so much that he’d be in her space again. wishing so much that the time would move faster so she could get drunk on his presence again.

she’s gotta get her fix of him somehow. even if it’s only through wardrobe fittings.

[neochaesol]

HEY, BLUE BABY.

[neochaesol]

neoyani‌:

“i wish more people would take my company as currency,” she drawls on a wry twist of her lips, pausing as she takes another sip of the tea. she’s warming inside as well as out now, thanks to beverage and sweater alike. a fruitful day to be sure. however - “oh wait,” she references to the drawl of her prior words, “that sounds like prostitution. i guess i figured out my dream job after all.” she chuckles at her own expense, nose scrunching. perhaps she’d never had the best turn of phrase, always a little bit rough around the edges, speak first and think later. “ddeokbokki then?” she reasons, “spicy, plus carbs.” not to mention it’s cheap. the last thing she’s eager to do is keep imposing, and she’s a girl on a budget. self imposed, mostly, to save up for equipment upgrades in the lab, but a budget nonetheless. “or budaejigae?” decision made after brief conversation later, she settles back again, mug in hand, to question, “so, like, what have you been working on lately?”

there was an easy beauty to their sweet reunion, and it’s one that’s only shown itself now that all of the adrenaline-steeped suspense has fully faded. chaesol recalls feeling nervous at the idea of yani coming over to entertain conversations, catching up, and a stunningly disorganized loft—one that she hasn’t had the time to organize how she’d like. inviting someone into her home always placed her into a vulnerable position. most of the time, she agreed to meet up with her interested clientele in public spaces so they wouldn’t catch a glimpse into her personal life too much. it wasn’t so much that she was embarrassed by her style of living, no, but on most days, her supplies were in such abundance that it’s often hard to find a comfortable place to sit. she would never want anyone to be uncomfortable in her presence, after all, so once the plans with yani were set, she spent hours upon hours deep-cleaning everything. for the first time in a long time, she was able to make her home appear as it should, and it was all thanks to the hellish nerves, and pressure, she felt to portray a perfect image to those around her. though truth be told, the older woman may already know her pretty well due to their past together. it’s been a very long time since then, sure, but she had a strong feeling that neither of them was too different from their childhood selves. that’s what she’d like to believe, at least.

a smile tugs at the corners of her lips at the compliment, and she shakes her head back and forth; bringing the mug full of liquid flora back up to her mouth to sip some more. once done, she settled it back onto the surface of her table and sighed contentedly. “well, i’m glad you think so. i honestly don’t think most of the people i associate with—who, let’s face it, aren’t cut from the same fabric as you and i, if you know what i mean—would be into adult tea parties, so at least i know that i can count on you to show up for them.” a wink followed suit, and she couldn’t but feel almost smitten towards the other. she had no idea why. it was as if all of the time spent apart only made their coming together more special. “it’s not like i’d ever want them around unless matters were strictly professional, though...” she shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. “maybe i shouldn’t talk badly about the people who buy my work, though. if not for them, i wouldn’t be able to live as comfortably as i do, or whatever.” it was troublesome, really. she worked for the people that she claimed to despise. not many in elysium could afford her garments, so she had to market to the olympians with the heftiest bank accounts, even if it made her sick sometimes.

there was no point in worrying about all of that now, though, so instead, she laughed at yani’s joke; her voice loud, and full of childlike giddiness. “well, if it makes you feel better, i’d pay top prices to spend a night with you, mon chéri.” was it flirtation, or just friends being friends? she didn’t really know, but she wasn’t prepared to analyze the situation fully yet. “you’re not only gorgeous but a genius, too, for thinking of ddeokbokki. i... genuinely don’t remember the last time i had some, and that’s sad, but that’s about to change, so i guess there’s no reason to fret.” that said, they were able to settle on a place to order from, and now, all they had to rely on was patience to carry their hunger over until their meals arrived. 

thank god for delivery.

as the conversation changed to her recent projects, chaesol smiled and tried her best to be brief when she finally decided to speak. if it were up to her, she could go on and on about her work, but she’d never want it to seem as though she was only interested in talking about only herself. “well, i was working on your sweater in-between a few gowns i’ve been commissioned to prepare. that’s a bore, though, as they’re not really all that interesting for me to design. most people who order custom dresses are INTENSELY PICKY about what they want, which makes things easier to a degree, but easy is never fun, you know?” she had no idea when the last time she felt a challenge from a project was, and that disappointed her immensely. she’s also been too busy to undertake any personal projects, too, so that further stifled her. “i’m trying to find new shapes, or silhouettes, to introduce to people, though, but no one’s really willing to be bold and reinvent the wheel a lot of the time. everyone wants the same thing over and over again—whatever’s trendy at the time—and it’s getting old.” she complained, then took another sip of her tea.

“if you want, i can show you a few pieces? they’re all on mannequins in my spare bedroom. don’t feel pressured to say yes, though. i wouldn’t want you to feel mind-numbingly bored.”

[rvstagram]

[xxxxneojinsol]

shallow.

[neochaesol]

neojinsol‌:

“so you really want something then?” he asks her, head tipping to the side as he regards her expression, tries to figure out whether or not she’s smashed. if it’s a bad judgement call. but then, they’re not really close enough for jinsol to feel guilty about it if it were. “what’re you in business for?”

she admits to herself that her words to him were juvenile. she admits that he could destroy her with a slip of the tongue.

despite that, though, chaesol decides not to make herself small or submissive to him. she feels that that’s what he’d want, anyway. why else would he have engaged her in conversation the instant she made her approach? if he truly didn’t want to entertain a conversation, he could’ve simply ignored her. sure, his words weren’t overwhelmingly welcoming—she expected that much—but she couldn’t deny that he was intriguing in some fashion. would they ever become friends? not likely, but she didn’t want to make an enemy out of him either. though, she fears she may have already done that. being fiercely opinionated sometimes landed her in water hotter than she was comfortable with, but luckily, she’s learned how to swim despite the torrid temperatures, and she was adamant about discussing her options; discussing “sales,” so to speak. her conscience was warning her to stay away, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she genuinely had no idea how to solve her current dilemma.

this was the first time she’s ever been uninspired, and it fucking terrified her more than anything.

not only would it affect her work negatively, but it would also force her to realize that there’s only a certain level of inventiveness that she can dream up before the well of creativity runs dry. she wasn’t ready for that reality check yet. so, here she was; tail between her legs and timid as she stood before a man shrouded in mystery, and in her mind, danger. so much danger. jinsol was something of a monster in her eyes, but she longed to make herself brave. exposure therapy was a thing, right? maybe, in a way, that’s what all of this was. she was working to diminish a lifelong fear. she only had her mother to blame for putting it there in the first place, so now, it was her job to rewire herself enough to rise above the darkness that swathes her memories.

chaesol rolls her eyes at his comments. she knows he’s capable of better, but she wasn’t going to ask for more venom when she was already about to poison herself. “don’t flatter yourself too much, sweetheart.” she quipped, her posture becoming more languid over time. when he asks if she’s intoxicated, she can’t help but wish that she was. that would make this whole encounter a lot easier to deal with. “no, i’m not drunk, and no, it’s not that i WANT something, necessarily... i guess i just need a little bit of help trying to piece together a collection for my next show.” it stings to admit that, but how else was she going to explain herself? “every piece is becoming grossly redundant, and i don’t want to seem like i can’t push my boundaries at all. a friend of mine told me that you can help with that, maybe?” manicured fingernails comb through the length of her raven-hued tresses; her sight trailing off to the goings-on of the afterlife for a moment before returning back to him.

“trust me—i didn’t wanna ask you for shit, but i also can’t really afford to ruin my career since i’m just starting to really take off. if you have something that, like, you know, offers euphoria or creativity or whatever, that’d help... but i’m not interested if what you’re gonna do is get me addicted to something that i can’t shake. i’d be even worse off then.” that lingering fear was still present, but she did her best to ignore it. that’s all she could do right now, anyway.

“obviously i don’t know anything about drugs, but i figure that you’re the best person to consult. i just hope i don’t regret talking to you anymore than i already do.”

[neochaesol]

HEY, BLUE BABY.

[neochaesol]

neoyani‌:

when chaesol pulls out the sweater she can’t help but grin a little. it’s a functional piece, because chaesol knows her well, and at the commentary she grins lopsided, taking the sweater in her hands to feel it’s weight. “yeah, gray, you really took a big chance on that huh,” she laughs, an oblique gesture to a heather gray sweater, a dark gray zip up over it. she pulls off the hoodie to exchange for the sweater immediately - she’s been cold all morning, having forgotten to check the weather forecast as usual. it’s weighty and warm and if she knew much about craftsmanship she would admire that too, but she doesn’t, so expertly knit fibers and well spun wool are lost on her in the moment, in favor of appreciating the softness. “it’s perfect,” she admits, hesitating, “i didn’t bring anything for you. but i could get something. if you need any… boosters or..” she trails off, an awkward air descending as she shifts in place. 

the edges of an upper set of teeth dig into the plushness of a bottom lip, long strands of hair falling into her sightlines; eager pupils drinking in every moment that occurred before her with means to store each motion, and each word, as a positive memory. honestly, she had no idea that it would be awkward to reignite the once bright flames of a friendship, but she understood why it would be. it’s almost as if she knows the woman in front of her, but doesn’t, at the same time. there’s the same aura that swathes her, and the same beauty she’s always possessed, but she’s still different. so, so different. it’s indiscernible to the younger now, but she’s dedicated to relearning their language, so to speak.

she’s dedicated to relearning lee yani.

delicate fingers wrap around the circumference of the mug she holds, and with a firm grasp, she hauls it to her mouth; blowing at the surface, then taking a sip, and humming at the flavor. truth be told, chaesol simply enjoyed the simple things, most of the time. life wasn’t always so simple in the past, so much so that she’d have never taken the time to enjoy a warm beverage steeped in urban flora, no. not only did she not have the means, but back then, her focus was on how she was going to scrounge together dinner while her mother was out. groceries were never adequately stocked, but she made up whatever she could with whatever little they did have. it was an endless guessing game for her. somehow, she was optimistic enough to survive. if it weren’t for that, she’d surely be in a place much worse off than before. in a lot of ways, she managed to escape the mess that was her past mostly unscathed, but she knew that life wasn’t as kind to everyone, and for that, she hoped that she didn’t come across as prissy, or fake, now that she was making a living for herself. sure, she was able to dress more lavishly now, and sure, she made an obnoxious amount of money off of her creativity alone, but she was still a child of elysium; still a child of the tar, the neon lights, and the overwhelming pollution.

that in mind, she wonders what yani thinks of her now. though they must’ve shared similarities with one another, they still led contrasting lives. hopefully, all of this wasn’t overkill for her sweet cohort. if it was, she’d never be able to forgive herself. that much was certain. “i’m glad you like the tea. to be honest, i was afraid you’d think i was trying too hard to impress you.” she shook her head, smiling all the while. “i just remember always wanting to have tea parties when i was little, but i didn’t really have any tea for said parties. i guess i’m just making up for the lost time, or whatever.” she realized she probably sounded lame, so she thought it best to pause for a moment. she wouldn’t want the older to feel uncomfortable, anyhow. that said, as hunger was made aware, chaesol nodded in agreement; her own stomach beginning to growl due to lack of nourishment. she’d been worked so thin lately that she was forgetting to eat, so she knew that this reminder should be taken seriously. both for her, and for yani. though what came first was the opening of a gift, and once compliments were exchanged, she offered yet another grin. 

it was hard for her not to.

“glad to know that i didn’t totally miss the mark, and not to blow my own horn, but it looks so good on you.” she lilted, shrugging her shoulders. “if you ever need it repaired, too, just bring it back and i’ll make it look as good as new. as i’m sure you know just as good as i do, it’s not easy to destroy your outfit in elysium.” though, when the mention of a present in return was mentioned, she shook her head; soft laughter escaping her in that same moment. “i don’t think any of that will be necessary, to be honest. as cheesy as it sounds, your company is more than enough.” inhaling, then exhaling a sigh, she decides to change the subject. 

“so, you mentioned that you’re hungry, yeah? what should we eat?” she queried, asking that question not only to yani, but to herself, too. “i’m always in the mood for carbs, and spicy food. what about you?”

[rvstagram]

[neochaesol]

HEY, BLUE BABY.

안채솔 ➝ 이야니 ! chaesol’s apartment. elysium, 4:24 pm.

slow hands moved to place two mugs onto her dining room table; the steam that rose from within them decorating the air with the scent of lavender earl grey—the surface of the liquid decorated with dried lilacs, and the sparkle of golden honey. sure, the delicate flora wasn’t at all meant to be consumed, but it added a flair of aesthetics that the designer found absolutely necessary. in an almost childish way, she thought that beverages ( and food ) would taste better if they were beautiful to behold, and she hoped so much that her old friend, lee yani, would think similarly. when they were small, they dreamed of hosting their own grandiose tea parties, and even though this isn’t exactly what they had in mind, she hoped it sufficed. though, taking one look at the other now, she was almost positive that it would be fine. times were different, anyway. to put it simply, both of them had seen a lot of shit, and had experienced a lot of shit. she knew that her comrade was dealt similar cards by taking one look into her beautiful eyes.

back then, chaesol saw the same wonder in yani’s eyes that she had.  it was that of a child who still believed in magic.  it was that of a child that hadn’t yet come to terms with the sorrow of her reality.

now, though, those once innocent irises were painted over with hardened hues of anguish; with the bittersweet color palette of adulthood. the younger of the two was still able to hold onto the very last shreds of wonder due to her creative work, but it seemed as though yani wasn’t able to do that to same degree. these were all assumptions, though, and for all she knew, she could be incredibly wrong. that’s just the vibe she received. either way, chaesol wanted to welcome her in with open arms; wanted to show her love in hopes that it’d help fill whatever voids existed within both of them

that said, she offers the older a smile.

“i hope lavender earl grey is okay with you. usually i’m stocked with lots of options, but my tea supply is a little low. believe it or not, i’ve been a little too busy to go to the grocery store.” she laughed, shaking her head. “speaking of which, are you hungry? i’d be happy to order some take-out if so.” in that moment, she took the seat parallel to yani; a set of dilated pupils studying the chiseled curves of her contour.

she was beautiful. magnetic, and so, so beautiful.

“also—don’t hate me, but i got you—well, i made you—a little something.” reaching below her, she pulled a gift box out from under the table; presenting it. it was a risk to gift her old friend custom-made attire, but the weather had been colder than usual, and she figured that a one-of-a-kind sweater would aid in warming her bones. “if you hate it, that’s okay. i hope i remembered your favorite color correctly, but if i didn’t, i apologize. both returns, and exchanges, are accepted.” she teased, sending her a wink through long lashes.

[xxxxneojinsol]

shallow.

[neochaesol]

neojinsol‌:

still, a smile slides into place when she stops in front of him. for no real reason, perhaps just in anticipation for a subtle sort of barb. maybe he’s leaning on the wrong pillar, blocking an avant garde design she’s strung up on a model. jinsol quirks a brow, a subtle lift that matches his hand as he swallows down another sip of his drink. spirits on the job – unprofessional. lately, jinsol’s been showing a lot of unprofessionalism though, and he hasn’t been called out on it yet. and it’d be stranger still to settle into the revelry with none of his own. or: explaining away budding alcoholism. 

“what?” he finally asks her. “you want to buy?” it’s a joke, and he waits for a scoff.

being ahn chaesol is difficult. incredibly, INCREDIBLY difficult.

her name was present in the mouths of others, even if she didn’t know them all too well. it was a fact of life that she had to accept after she decided to make herself, and her craft, objects of public opinion. fashion was subjective, after all. what she deemed beautiful could be someone else’s worst nightmare. that, though, is what she loves so much about it—that uncomfortable risk. she paraded around afterlife dressed to the nines in articles of clothing she created for fun; created for herself. that was when she became the most pleased with her work. however, just because she adored how she looked doesn’t mean that everyone else would feel the same as she did. hell, some might look at her and wince, or frown, or even point and laugh, and those negative opinions could just as easily hurt business. while she hasn’t had a proper complaint from her clients yet, she’s definitely witnessed when individuals turn their noses upwards in disgust as she walks by—some are bold in that way.

so, anytime she leaves her house, she feels an immense pressure to look her best. she can’t ever afford to be lazy. her head would be on a chopping block if she were. that’s why she’s almost afraid of her current mental state. lately, she’s found it painstakingly difficult to create anything. it was almost as if she was tired of her ideas and how repetitive they seemed. there was a desperate need for her to reinvent the wheel somehow—to further create trends. the journey to that space in her imagination was proving to be arduous, and she hoped that by leaving the confines of her condo, she would be able to stumble upon some much-needed inspiration. she searched for it wherever she could. however, as her pupils made their way throughout the club she was becoming unfortunately familiar with, they landed upon a man she’d been drawn to for quite sometime now, but she had no idea why.

it wasn’t as if she was physically attracted to him, no. it also wasn’t as if she found his overall personality pleasant either. if anything, she had the opposite reaction. to chaesol, jinsol was a figure cloaked in murky mystery, but said cloak wasn’t her exactly her style. they led different lives—that much was obvious—but she was beginning to realize that she shouldn’t house any judgement for him due to that. however, just as she began to familiarize herself with his contour, a thought struck her; one that she was admittedly mortified by. in that instant, she recalled a conversation with a friend of her’s where, in the midst of the pair discussing her recent woes, they mentioned psychedelics, and how they could benefit her during slumps. back then, she laughed it and rolled her eyes at the possibility, but now, she was at a place where she had to deeply consider all options... no matter how burdensome they seemed.

so, naturally, she approached him.

she wasn’t exactly met with warmth, though, which she expected, but when his “joke” was made, she sighed; not ready to admit defeat just yet.

she didn’t want to give him the pleasure.

"i’m beginning to think that it’s your personal goal to corrupt me, jinsol.” chaesol teased, her plump pout spreading into a smile. “didn’t realize that that was such a huge kink of yours.” in that same moment, one of her hands reached over to nudge him playfully before she pulled it back; using it, then, to reposition the hair draped over her shoulder so that it hung uniformly over her back now. she took a brief pause to think—did she actually want to do this? was she really that desperate? never in her life would she want to turn into someone like her mother, or hell, even like jinsol, but she felt like she was at a loss, and she seriously had no idea how to remedy her problem. maybe, just maybe, he had the proper “medicine” for her?

swallowing her pride, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked back over to him; a pearly set of upper ivories sinking into the cushion of her lesser lip briefly before she decided to speak. 

“with that in mind, though, how much would it turn you on if i actually DID want to purchase something from you?”

[rvstagram]

[neochaesol]

𝖍𝖎, 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 !  i’m ryan and i don’t know about you, but i’m thrilled to be here ! i’ll be writing elysium’s very own fashionista and fusspot, ahn chaesol, and lemme tell ya, she’s a bit of a handful. think of an oddball, beam of light kind of girl wrapped up in a broody, edgy vessel. if you’re interested, below, you’ll find a brief synopsis of her life and the links to her pages, so if you’re up for it, go ahead and ♡ this to plot. i’m looking forward to writing with you all and seeings how this unfolds. either way, i hope you’re all doing super duper well !

*  𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔣 𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰,

ahn chaesol is the product of an olympian man, and an elysium woman. she was raised by a single mother ( who worked as a waitress for quite sometime ) and she’d never met her dad. back then, she recalls her mother being absent quite a lot, and she was left to almost raise herself. when she entered her teenage years, she discovered that her father was an incredibly wealthy man, and she also discovered that he’d been sending in large sums of child support to her mother, but chaesol never saw that money herself. feeling deceived, she decided to run away from home, and in this process, was taken in by a seamstress. there, she would work to fix hems, sew garments, and repair other commonly worn items, and it was in this process that she fell in love with fashion design. so, when she was old enough, she moved into a shabby studio apartment on her own, purchased her own equipment with the limited funds she had, and began to create one-of-a-kind ensembles for those who had the money to pay her for them. it wasn’t long before she participated in runway shows, and little-by-little, her clientele expanded. she would work tirelessly to supply celebrities gowns for red carpets, to provide housewives personalized clothing, and it was needless to say that she was self-made, but at the height of her career, her father reached out to her. she was skeptical, but later accepted his riches to attain more luxurious and expensive fabrics, as well as technological material, to find ways to be more innovative. it was then when she started to become commissioned to make armor pieces for those leading elysium’s revolution, and though she feels guilt for using her father’s money against him, she’s decided to press forward clandestinely; hoping she won’t be exposed by either party.

*  𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱,

i would describe chaesol as a huge beam of light—her smile, and her laughter, overall bringing warmth and joy to those around her. there’s an infectious eccentricity about her—she’s not at all afraid to be herself, or to dress how she pleases, or to do as she sees fit. ever since she ran from home, she’s kept her eyes on the bigger picture, and while that’s a positive part of her personality, overall, she sometimes focuses on too many reveries at once and becomes easily lost in thought. that, of course, doesn’t help when she has tons of work to do at her sewing machine. not only that, but she’s also the type of person who’d be, like, insanely loud and inappropriate in a restaurant without really caring, nor would she care if anyone told her to keep her mouth shut. in essence, she gives no fucks, and while i love that about my chaotic good child, it can also be extremely annoying. on the other side of the coin, though, she’s painstakingly meticulous with how she works. she might be careless in her day-to-day life, but when it comes to piecing together ensembles, or machinery, she’s an intense perfectionist. she’s so disciplined in her craft that, like, she just lets loose whenever she’s not at work. it’s almost as if you’re seeing two completely different people depending on how busy she is. either way, if she and your muse(s) would be compatible—or, hell, even incompatible—that’s great ! let’s totally work something out.

*  𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫,

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The moon once pulled blood from me. Now I pull silver.

A. E. Stallings, from Archaic Smile; “Arachne Gives Thanks To Athena.”

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