dressed like a daydream.

even if you say i'm doing wrong or bad ─ i don't know what the problem is, this is the way i am juri ** vampire ** 29 (but only in the sense of time passed)

[obsxjuri-blog]

🎭 - How does your muse handle their emotions? Do they bottle them up or pour them out as soon as they start to feel?

( headcanon meme: accepting! ) 

she’s explosive with her emotions, always.  if she feels a certain way it’ll be written in her body and all over her expression---and she won’t (see: can’t) hold her tongue for shit. more often than not, she’s a speak without thinking type, and when she’s riled up, this trait only shows itself off further. thoughtless words along with heaps of pride to keep defending her position even in the rare instances where she recognizes a losing battle are her main folly, and it’s costed her many, many (see: many) relationships over time, particularly back when she was human. cause, y’know---who need friends when you have your sire, right? right? 

[obsxjuri-blog]

💸 - What does your muse think of wealthy people? Do they resent them, or do they believe they earned what they have?

( headcanon meme: accepting! ) 

she idolizes them. that lifestyle, that aura of superiority---she wants that for herself, wants to be that extra level of glamorously ‘above others’. it doesn’t help that her aesthetic style in fashion is basically that high-class, femme fatal sort of look, and those pieces don’t often come cheap; looking expensive often is expensive, when it comes to her.

as far as whether she believes if they’ve earned it or not, it depends. she’d claim without hesitation that the queen of course earned every single ounce of decadence that she’d indulged in. other than that, her stance is more of a ‘who cares---they have it and they look good, so what does it matter how they got it?’ kind of deal.

[assortedrpmemes]

Thought-Provoking Headcanon Meme

Send a symbol and I’ll answer the question about my muse. (Or answer in character. Whatever works for you!)

⛔️ - How does your muse react to others breaking the law? If they would do it themselves, what is their reasoning? 🚑 - If your muse was the only person around and someone was injured, would they help? Would they have the experience needed? 💸 - What does your muse think of wealthy people? Do they resent them, or do they believe they earned what they have? 🆘 - What does your muse think of poor people? Do they think they’re a waste of space, or do they want to help them? 📩 - Does your muse prefer to physically write letters or send them online? What is their reasoning? 📢 - Does your muse have a loud personality or a quiet one? Do they enjoy being the center of attention, or would they rather watch and listen? 📊 - How does your muse feel about the state of the world? Could it be better? Could it be worse? 👨 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their father? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👩 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their mother? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👧 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their siblings? Who do they get along with best? 👶 - If they have any, what is your muse’s relationship like with their children? Do they feel like they’re a good parent? 👻 - Does your muse believe in an afterlife? What do they think it’s like? ⏰ - Does your muse feel like they need to do things quickly or do they take their time? ⌛️ - How often does your muse think about death? Do they think about it at all? 🔗 - What are your muse’s standards for meaningful relationships? How quickly do they form relationships like these? 🚹 - How would your muse react to losing their father? How would they cope? 🚺 - How would your muse react to losing their mother? How would they cope? 🚼 - How would your muse react to losing a child? How would they cope? 💧 - How would your muse react to losing a best friend? How would they cope? 💔 - How would your muse react to losing a romantic partner? How would they cope? 🐜 - How does your muse feel about animal lives? Do they treat them the same way they’d treat a person, or do they feel they’re inferior? 🌎 - Does your muse want to change the world? How would they go about it? 🎭 - How does your muse handle their emotions? Do they bottle them up or pour them out as soon as they start to feel? 💋 - How does your muse feel about people who cheat? Do they see a reason for it, or is it completely immoral? 🌠 - Would your muse make a wish on a star? If so, what would they wish for? 🎁 - Does your muse celebrate their birthday? If yes, how do they celebrate? If no, why not? 🍟 - How does your muse feel about their body? Would they change it if they could? 💅 - How does your muse feel about gender roles? Do they conform to them, or do they play by their own rules? 🌺 - Does your muse have a favorite flower? Why do they like it?

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ what the cat dragged in.

[obsxjuri-blog]

shoumu.

nope, definitely not cat-normal.

shoumu’s brows furrow and they stand up, pushing their chair back with a squeak along the old vinyl flooring. cats are, for everything shoumu knows, elegant and precise, the very definition of grace and poise—and yet here is mike-san, certainly unwell in some sense of the word as she lays collapsed in a heap of liquid limbs and pitiful yowling noises.

it takes them a second to think—what should they do? what would they do with a person? check for a fever? call a doctor? the baku-blooded rubs at the back of their neck, gaze drifting to the space beside them. do cats run fevers? they always seem warm, most animals do—so shoumu doubts they could do much, there. but as for who to call—well, shoumu is certainly a creature of their social network, so even if a doctor is out of the question, perhaps they do have a friend who can give them some advice.

“wait just a moment,” they say softly, nodding at the cat; they take their phone from the desk and head into the kitchen on padded footsteps—walking silently is just a habit of theirs, one which has startled a fair number of roommates and friends in the past. perhaps they’re even more light of foot when they aren’t in their human form, less comfortable and more clunky in a number of ways despite seeming less cumbersome.

as they fill a bowl with cool water they send a few urgent-sounding messages to a friend who owns far too many cats—perhaps he’ll know what’s going on with mike-san. water always helps though, right? can you put a wet cloth on a cat’s head to bring down a fever? it probably would wiggle too much… the idea of trying to medicate a cat seems unpleasant as well, shoumu doesn’t think they’d know how to hold a cat for something like that.

regardless, their friend probably won’t respond immediately, so they should maybe try to observe mike-san for more clues for now. shoumu carefully carries the bowl with them, claws clinking faintly against its curvature, as they return to the main room of their apartment, calling out a quiet “i’m back,” as they round the corner—only to pause in their tracks, blinking their orange-ringed eyes rapidly a few times at the sight of definitely-not-a-cat in their living room floor.

“…eh? what? who are you?”

the sensation that comes with force-shifting is never a pleasant one, in all of her experiences; she avoids coming even close to hitting that time limit whenever she utilizes this form, just to avoid the feeling. but today, time is just as on her side as coordination is --- that is to say not at all, to the point where it’s almost laughable how poorly everything seemed to be going. 

her vocal chords strain with the intensity of her continued howling as her body’s forced to change back to its natural form, feline features shifting and changing as her bones grate against each other. it hurts --- it always does, like this, and there’s only so much howling she can do reflect that, but it’s somehow less than what she could recall it being in the past. it’s somehow more tolerable than not, even though each second that passes is like someone had embarked on a mission to reinstall each minor nerve her body’s meant to possess. rather than screaming, juri’s left gasping against the floor, tongue running over where her fangs had cut into her lips; rather than being in such agony that movement seemed all but impossible, she’s left with a pounding headache in the center of a whirlpool of dizziness, where each throbbing moment that passes seemed to all but shake through her entirely.

granted, she still can’t move, but at least it wasn’t too bad. kinda.

the way juri groans is definitely anything but cat-like --- fitting, seeing as she’s anything but cat-like in this moment, an ungraceful, unclothed heap of limbs on a near-stranger’s living room floor. it almost doesn’t seem real --- actually, that’d be pretty amusing, wouldn’t it? what if this all wasn’t real, and that confused expression mirrored across three copies of their mostly-stranger acquaintance was specifically crafted to be as amusing as she finds it right now, in this moment? what if it was meant to intensify the giggling fit that’d suddenly come over her, even if the laughter proves to be slightly painful to her still sore ribs?

well, if it were meant to be anything but, if it were meant to be terribly serious and real, then juri clearly missed the memo.

“landlord-san, your face,” her speech may be horrendously slurred and marred by unprompted giggles, but the language she uses is in fact the right one --- her native one, the one she hears most often in this place than any other. “---your face! have --- have you seen it?”

[obshimchan]

nowhere to run

[obsxjuri-blog]

himchan.

The more the simple thought brewed in his mind, the more Himchan reasoned that it must be true. This was an unsavory position to be caught in, and he figured Juri wanted some form of payback. All she had to do was trap him when he was least expecting it. Cursing under his breath, Himchan wondered why he had not noticed her scent lingering around the condos earlier. If he had been paying attention, maybe he would have picked up on her plans sooner. Maybe he would not have to be in this situation. He was already off to a poor start at being a werewolf.

Her response, however, had him second-guessing, if only for a moment.

“You think I don’t know you? You would jump at any opportunity to turn my life back into a living hell! You’re probably mad I got my revenge, and you didn’t!” He wanted to growl, but he swallowed down the small indications before they could truly form. Juri’s facial expressions looked very convincing, though. It made him want to believe her. But there was no other way this could have happened by chance, right?

“I just didn’t know you would stoop so low as to trap me..” He shook his head, and with it, the fleeting thoughts that it may not have been her plan. Convincing as she may be, Himchan would not be surprised if Juri had brushed up on her manipulation. She wanted to lure him into a false sense of security, only to tear him apart. She had always been good at that.

Like the wine he drank, it seemed his feelings had fermented with the years, growing stronger and more flavorful as time passed. Really, he had never thought too much of his relationship with Juri in the last few years, and never had he grown this bitter. It shocked even himself. It felt good, though. It felt good to release his inner anger that even he had not known was buried deep beneath scarred flesh.

Gawking, Himchan watched as her hand touched multiple buttons. His anger flared, once again. “Excuse me? I tried the button. Is there a special way to press buttons now?” That was not what he was now worried about. She had pressed buttons – multiple buttons. The dread of having to stop at many different floors before getting to his own entered his mind. No way. The power was off, surely, that could not happen as soon as it came back on. “You really should not have done that. If I have to suffer through multiple floors with you, I promise I will make it as bad an experience for you as it is for me.”

It only worked to further his opinion that she had planned this, though. She wanted to prolong their time together in order to secure a chance to get back at Himchan. Somehow, she would execute her plan between now and when the elevator would start again. He really hoped the extra buttons she had pressed in would not register. Above all, Himchan really just wanted to get home now. His day had already been ruined.

Dog? How many times had he heard that in the last month alone? Himchan swore he wore cologne – probably more than he should. He made a show to even shower twice a day to rid himself of the canine scent. Yet, it seemed no matter what he did, Himchan could not escape what he was.

“I have a dog.” Lie. “You don’t smell like flowers either. In fact,” Himchan paused, his nose twitching to, finally, thoroughly investigate that musky undertone to her scent. It seemed familiar. It was definitely something he had encountered before. It was– “Blood?”

Blood did not ever make him queasy. If that were the case, he could forget about being a surgeon. This was different. Juri smelled like blood. Not the blood that should be pumping in her veins – someone else’s blood. In the hospital, this would be more reasonable. Here, though? He could only let his imagination run wild.

This was nothing less than two --- no, three headaches bundled into one giant unwanted gift package and dropped on her front doorstep without her permission; she’d never ordered it in the first place, and yet she’s being accused of being responsible for it? How just like him it was, to put such an outlandish blame on her, as if it were her fault; just like when he’d left her, back then. 

Is she surprised he hasn’t changed? Not really, no, but it damn sure still irritates her on the sheer principle of the matter. 

“Trap you?!” She near screeches, her voice bouncing off the walls of the elevator. “Trust me, if I had any interest in trapping you somewhere, I wouldn’t need some stupid elevator to pull it off!” 

Time is not a friend in a case like this --- no, it simply gnaws at her, building up impatience, frustration, anger all in one compact, square box. And for him to sit there and just tell her off, as if he had the right to? Who does he think he is --- who does he think she is?

“I’m sorry --- what?” When she huffs in laughter, it’s no less dry than the throat of some poor sap struggling in a summer desert. “If you have to suffer? You’re the worst part of this damn mess!” She stamps her foot for emphasis, the elevator shaking slightly at the force of it as she growls; really, her ability to keep herself in check has never been all too good, but with him around, it just seemed to get worse by the second. 

It only adds to the amount of bite behind her words when she speaks, even as she crosses her arms and leans against the opposite wall, teeth gritting in irritation. “You have a dog so that means you smell like you’ve been spooning it in its little dog bed for days on end? That’s the point you’ve gotten to after all these years? Gross.” 

For all that she’d been ready to be given some sort of reason to tear him apart (not that she cares one way or another about killing him, that said --- it’d just be fun to leave him incapacitated in an elevator, so that when the thing finally came back on, he’d be stuck, unable to move while she casually sashayed her way out at the very first stop), she finds herself amused at his grand, astute observation. Not that she could blame him for the surprise.

“Yeah, and?” She grins, a snarky, confident expression that curls her lip upwards for the first time. “I happen to think it smells wonderful, so thanks for the compliment.” Something about that seemed... odd, though. The wheels in her head turn as her eyes narrow slightly in equal parts confusion and suspicion. 

“But... how do you smell that?” It’s not as though she’s doused in the stuff or anything, after all.  

[amura-deactivated20260707]

[obsxjuri-blog]

“ You say that like it’s a bad thing. ”

( sentence meme: accepting! ) 

A hum leaves her lips, light and only vaguely contemplative. Perhaps it’s not, if she thinks about it; perhaps, despite the way it sounds or seems, such a life is more lucrative than anything else --- and Juri’s not one to discount a concept as alluring as that. Still... 

“Maybe not for you,” she grins, half purring. “I couldn’t do it.” 

There are many reasons behind it; Juri studies her clawed nails halfheartedly as she thinks of them all. It’s not as though she doesn’t have the personality that one might associate with an escort --- maybe she’s a bit off the mark from a sweet, soft thing, but that’s besides the point --- but the thought of having a job like that seemed too... tempting. 

“Something like that --- doesn’t it rely on repeat customers? If it were me...” she laughs, light and somehow dancing more along the tone of being predatory. “I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself! Isn’t it the same as putting dinner in front of someone and then paying them to eat it?” 

She leans over, taking hold of the girl’s hair and twirling it between her own fingers. “Besides, I can’t think of that business being particularly vast enough to keep someone else from cutting into your territory. Does that happen to you? Or... is it you that cuts in on everyone else’s?” 

[vaememes]

 ✴   ℋ𝓔ℳℒ𝓞𝓒𝓚  𝓖ℛ𝓞𝓥𝓔  𝓢𝓔𝓝𝓣𝓔𝓝𝓒𝓔  𝓟ℛ𝓞ℳ𝓟𝓣𝓢.

nsfw mentions such as : blood, death, murder, threats, sexual themes may be present.

* SEASON ONE :

“   You’re so weird,  _____.  But I like it.   ”

“   This is the part where you leave.   ”

“   It’s important for me to understand people’s motivations.   ”

“   Do you worship the Devil?   ”

“   Are you a werewolf or what?   ”

“   There are no tracks.  ”

“   Stay out of the way and let nature takes it course.   ”

“   There’s no way to help him/her/them, even if we knew who it was?   ”

“   What are you not telling me?   ”

“   Nobody needs your fucking money.   ”

“   I’m highly medicated.   ”

“   How many funerals have you been to?   ”

“   WHAT IF we stop beginning sentences with those two words?   ”

“   I’m just saying, there’s the right way then there’s the foolish way.  ”

“   Guys…  look,  it’s baby bump and teen wolf.   ”

“   Nobody gives a shit what happens out here,  ‘cept us,  right?   ”

“   Do you have any idea what we may be looking for?   ”

“   Let’s split up,  I’ll go this way.   ”

“   Pull the trigger. Find out.   ”

*   SEASON   TWO   :

“   You can say what you want.   ”

“   Everyone has secrets locked behind closed doors somewhere.   ”

“   It’s been a while, _____. I thought you forgot about me.   ”

“   First you pay then we play.  ”

“   I’m not interested in damaged goods.   ”

“   How about someone who might be a type A?  ”

“   I knew there was a reason why I hated everything about him/her/them.   ”

“   You are hungry, aren’t you?   ”

“   The thirst came right along with you, there’s no running from it.   ”

“   I would give anything, ANYTHING, not to be your son/daughter.   ”

“   You,  ______,  are anything but normal.   ”

“   Before you fuck things up for all of us, come to me.   ”

“   I know exactly what you are.   ”

“   ______ is a whole pile shit of evil you don’t begin to understand.  ”

“   If you hurt him/her, I will put so much pain on you, you will never get well.   ”

“   It will end very badly for you if you don’t.   ”

“   I am going to feed your child. Unless, you want to do it.   ”

“   I was with _____ and yes, we slept together.  ”

“   Where would we be without our secrets?   ”

*   SEASON   THREE   :

“   I have a special gift for defining assholes.   ”

“   Why me?  Why not go to the police?   ”

“   I gotta know, otherwise, I can’t do my job.   ”

“   I will do everything in my power to protect you from him/her/them.  ”

“   It’s just us now, so we got to look out for each other.   ”

“   You destroyed my life’s work.   ”

“   There’s something their not telling me.   ”

“   Anything I come up with, you’ll be the first to know.   ”

“   What’s wrong?  Shut it down.  ”

“   I know it hurts, he/she/they left me to, you know.   ”

“   Find it in your heart to forgive him/them/her, I’m not quite there yet.   ”

“   You say that like it’s a bad thing.   ”

“   Are you really going to answer that?   ”

“   It’s going to be ugly and I’m going to have to live with it.  ”

“   It doesn’t work like that. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.   ”

“   It will end very badly for you if you don’t.   ”

“   You said you didn’t want to be involved, considered yourself not involved.   ”

“   You had nothing, you were nothing, you want to step to me, motherfucker?  ”

“   I promise you, we’re going to get out of here, alright?   ”

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ curiousity kills.

[obsxjuri-blog]

jooheon.

Jooheon halts dead in his tracks, typically squinted eyes in annoyance widen to their full capacity. His heart starts to beat faster, blonde locks swing left and right as he frantically searches for the source of that voice. Someone with abilities such as he shouldn’t be as nervous as he was displaying, though the panic was starting to set in at the thought of what whoever or whatever could be toying with him like this. The stench of the undead fills his nostrils, Jooheon’s nose wrinkling in disgust as the scent is all too familiar for the raven. 

Fists clenched, he tries to calm himself, not wanting to let himself jump to conclusions. Despite the unknown presence being a blood sucker, two things did struck odd with him if they were out to get him. “Who are you?” He growls out, trying to come across as serious though on the inside he was far from it. His nerves were starting to get the best on him, a fault that always leads to a mess up in whatever he has cooking as far as retaliation if they were to engage. 

At least one thing was certain, whoever this was, was definitely not associated with them, Jooehon was almost sure of it. If it had been them, the ones he had been trying so hard to stay low and avoid at all costs, they would’ve pounced before he could blink. He straightens his usual hunched posture, still trying to come across as calm and collected. 

In her opinion (the right one, of course), the scent of fear is better than any candle that one could possible craft. The sound of his frantic heart is like a flickering yet mesmerizing flame that adds to it --- Juri finds herself giggling over it, making no attempt to mask her amusement as she steps into his line of sight, allowing herself to be entirely visible. 

“I guess that means your kind does get scared, huh? That’s interesting --- you’re all so weird, I can never tell what you’re about.” There’s not an ounce of shyness to be found in her form nor her words, even as she speaks with such a tone --- as though he’s lesser than her. Of course she believes such a thing to be entirely true; fae may be strange, yes, but not for one moment does Juri believe that they’re on the same level as a vampire. 

“Since you’re here, you should tell me,” she starts, a bemused smirk on her lips and a look in her eyes that all but says I can tell, you know, when he tries to collect himself. “You’re a fae, right? One of those weird things.” 

As she speaks she draws closer, her thoughts centered on herself and what her own intentions are --- as always. “What’s it like? What do you do? Some of you end up on the news and all that, but you don’t seem all too impressive, to me.” 

She pauses, giving him a drawn-out once over as she grins before adding: “---especially considering how scared you were, just then.” 

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ spoiled.

[obsxjuri-blog]

jaewon.

there aren’t many things that can excite jaewon. her indifference towards everything is like a horrible disease that just doesn’t want to leave her body. even as a human, jaewon was pretty stoic and insensitive. things didn’t change much when she became a vampire. in fact they only became worse. she’s always distant and nothing is interesting to her. there has never been a spark of life in her beautiful eyes. only endless darkness. still, she cares about her friends. after all, she only has a few. so, she has no other choice but to accept juri’s offer and go with her to the mansion of the old vampire queen. at least, she’ll get some fresh air. and nothing can happen to them. they’re immortal.

she listens to her friend carefully, but she doesn’t care much.‘‘ah, well that makes sense. i’m sure it a nice mansion. after all, it is a mansion. and she was a queen. real queens can’t just live a shed. re-decorating would feel wrong ? why? she’s gone. no one cares about her now.’’at least she doesn’t. 

jaewon never cared about some old vampire queens and their mansions. idolizing them seems so ridiculous. however, she’s a little jealous too. who wouldn’t want to be the queen? she would wear that title with such pride. but in the end, she’s only there for juri. she cares about her too much to just leat her wander around some old mansions all alone.

 ‘‘um, you’re right. this is horrible,’‘jaewon adds with a look of disgust on her face, her gaze darting around. ‘’ i hope you’re right. but, so far i’m not impressed. this mansion sucks. but you can do whatever you want. still, maybe we should explore this place a little before we settle in. for safety measurements.’’frankly, she thinks that the mansion looks horrible and she’s not afraid to voice her opinion.‘’i kinda want to go home. just admit it. this place is ugly.’’  

the look that crosses over her features is one of disbelief and confusion --- the near dramatic gasp she gives is just as telling, the oddly genuine sound of it banishing thoughts of such an over the top reaction being anything but real. “i care!” she near squawks, holding a hand to her chest as she turns towards jaewon. “she wasn’t my sire or anything, but she was --- glorious. elegant! powerful --- everything that anyone could even hope to be! to disrespect her tastes without feeling at least a little bad about it would be so... !”  

dramatic, dramatic; there’s no reason for her to be such, but she puts on the show of it anyway (though how much of it could be considered a show when her words come from her heart?), heaving a grand sigh and brushing her hair away from her face. “everything was better when she was around. those bottom-of-the-barrel hunters would at least keep some kind of head on their shoulders before crossing paths with a vampire. now they just don’t care! even the rookies --- do you know how annoying they are, high off their egos and thinking they stand a chance? with her around, those brats would at least be filtered out of the ranks somewhat. she had everyone around in check --- and now, look! it’s all a mess.” 

another huff, another sigh; her gaze turns upwards towards the building, a dreamy sort of look in her eyes. “it’d be great, wouldn’t it? to have someone like her around again --- to be someone like her. it’s like a dream.” and claiming this mansion makes it seem all the more obtainable. despite everything, juri finds herself just as excited as before. 

even if jaewon’s observations were a bit on the more realistic side; rose-tinted glasses would undoubtedly make everything out to be better than it truly is, but juri’s nowhere near ready to admit that. 

“it’s... a bit dusty and unkempt, maybe, but it’s not ugly!” she insists. “besides, it’s nothing that a bit of redecorating and cleaning can’t handle, right? come on, have a little faith in ---” 

her words cut short as she pauses in her steps, blinking as she turns in a direction different from the one they’d been headed. a sudden, odd sound --- she’s not sure what to make of it, but hey --- it’s yet another benefit to having a friend along with her. “did you hear something?” juri mumbles, brow raised and head slightly tilted. “i don’t hear anyone’s heartbeat, but... was that my imagination?”

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ spoiled.

@obsxjaewon​

the forest has never been something juri found any sort of aesthetic in, but for all that she scrunches her nose at the thought, the knowledge that she’d come across was more than enough to see her venturing into it. the queen’s mansion --- it’s almost something of legend in juri’s eyes. the stronghold in which her idol had resided, hidden within the depths of the forest, away from curious, prying eyes --- she’d looked for it before only to come up empty handed, but this time is different. this time, she knows exactly where she’s going and exactly how to get there. the fact that she’s not alone this time around has its fair share of perks, too --- one being that she can ramble aloud in her excitement.

“she kept it well protected, suitable for vampires --- we wouldn’t have to worry about something like that. and her style, too --- re-decorating would feel... wrong, but i’m sure there’s room for us to each do whatever we’d like.” 

the thoughts are like a dream, floating around juri’s head like candy to a sugar-starved child.  the very idea that she could live in the same place as the belated vampire queen had is enough to make her heart skip in delight, her eyes practically shining in the night.  not even the prospect of sharing with jaewon could deter the feeling --- after all, it’s sure to be more than enough room for the both of them to reside with little issue. and, well, it’d keep juri from getting lonely, as she often does. 

“i wish it didn’t reek around here, though,” she grumbles, making a show to wave her hand in the space in front of her as if it could do a thing against the strong scent of decay permeating the area. “wonder if it’s a hunting ground for some were-pack and they keep leaving their food behind or something --- if that’s what it is, then i might end up doing more housekeeping than i thought.”

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ nightmare fuel.

[obsxjuri-blog]

nara.

Nara’s head tilts in a slightly patronizing way; of course it’s gross, to someone who doesn’t know two things about necromancy and doesn’t make a literal living out of dealing with dead things. Nothing about bodies—not in how they fall apart or decay or anything of the sort—could disgust Nara at this point, they’re certain, if it ever did, bizarre and detached as they are from some normal standard of what’s “acceptable” to the average person.

“Of course it’s gross—it’s downright gruesome,” they say, lip curled up in the slightest, tone flippant. Nara turns the needle and thread in their non-dominant right hand, careful not to lose what’s left of their connection to their digits, in an attempt to piece themself back together until they have access to proper healing.

They’d keep rambling to themself, but the stranger resumes yelling and honestly, it’s kind of annoying, being called a zombie. Something about it makes them feel grouchy—but, Nara laughs it off in a low voice.

“A zombie—in popular parlance, the mindless form of the reanimated dead. I prefer just calling them puppets.” Once more, they mumble around the point, this time with suture thread between their teeth as they finagle it into a usable form. “You’ve never seen one? Well, if you had, you may not know it… they’re not all rotting at the edges, you know. And they don’t usually eat brains. That’d be inefficient; not sure why they would, really.”

Nara blatantly, and without an exceptional degree of finesse, begins to stitch their bloody index finger back into place—seriously, what a pain, especially since they left Morgana behind to attend to another errand tonight, too.

“Anyway… no,” they finally say around clenched teeth, eyes narrowed as they glance up at the panicking stranger like it honestly doesn’t matter what she’s saying or how she feels. “Necromancer, not zombie.” Nara turns their attention back to slowly reattaching their displaced digits, at least for the most part. It’s painful, but not enough so to faze them beyond a grimace. “But seeing you get so stressed about it was pretty funny. What’s that make you? Actually, more important question: how squeamish are you?”

Her thoughts are running in triple time, almost to a dizzying degree --- the more they talk, the more her mind spins. Is she being lectured right now? Something about it certainly feels that way --- maybe it’s just the unsettling way that they’re talking in the first place, still completely disregarding the fact that their fingers are in some entirely unnatural disarray of an arrangement. 

She wants to tune them out, but she can’t; the saying ‘know thy enemy’ comes to mind, and it keeps her from ignoring their zombie-centric anatomy lesson --- not that it keeps her from being any less distressed about it, though. In fact, it feels as though she’d been doused in ice water the moment they mention the fact that zombies could be hiding amongst the population, completely normal-looking and unidentifiable. Not even eating brains. That simple concept would single-handedly render everything she’s ever known about zombies (all through media sources, of course) useless and incorrect.

This can’t be true --- she refuses to believe it, despite how many chills run along her tense form.

“Yeah right,” she mumbles, absentmindedly running a hand along her arm while trying to appear as unaffected and flippant as they seem to be; it doesn’t work, really, but she doesn’t recognize that for herself. She’s got better, other things to focus on in the moment.

Like the fact that someone could just so casually stitch their finger back on, as if it’s something people do every day.

She’s not shaking --- no way. There’s nothing about this that screeched creepy and gross loud enough to bounce off the walls --- nothing at all. Nope. The fact that she nearly jumps out of her skin when they speak again is entirely unrelated to them as an entity. Coincidence; pure, utter coincidence.  

“Necro... mancer?” Not zombie. It takes quite a handful of moments for the words to settle in, each of which punctuated with an unnecessarily long silence. Necromancer, not zombie. Necromancer, not --- “If this is what you’re like, isn’t that just as bad?!” she shrieks, completely ignoring their own question in the process --- for the moment, at least. The rest of their words finally sink in a few seconds later, accentuated by the stomping of her foot, as if she were all the child she acted like.

“What part of this is funny?! I’m not squeamish enough to not tear you apart just --- just because, that’s for sure!” Except she is, in some way; otherwise, she wouldn’t be hesitating to go near them in the first place. 

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ and the dead rise.

@obshakyeon​

“Hakyeon!” All manners of politeness are thrown to the wind, foregone as Juri all but slams the door to the art gallery open --- a noisy entrance suiting of her unquiet shriek. Most days don’t catch her in a state like this, hair nearly frazzled, looking all the parts of a mess --- but today is not like ‘most days’ as far as Juri’s concerned. No, today is much, much, worse. 

It doesn’t take her long at all to storm over to the elder vampire with inhuman speed, something akin to fear sparkling in her eyes; it’s strange, on her, considering there are so few things that the girl could ever claim to be afraid of. 

As it just so happens, however, one of those fears seems to be stumbling outside, brought to life and animated right before her very eyes. The shriek she’d made back in the forest would likely haunt its flora for all eternity.  

“Hakyeon, there’s --- there’s zombies!” 

There’s no need for her to breathe but she does so regardless, chest rising and falling in erratic patterns; she might as well be flailing, given how she waves her hands towards the front of the gallery as if she’d been followed by one of those awful, disgusting things. 

“They were falling apart and everything! Just like the mov --- why?! Why are they real --- ?! Where do they even come from?!” 

It’s uncertain what exactly she expects from Hakyeon to do about any of this, but she hasn’t exactly thought about that pragmatically. 

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ curiousity kills.

[obsxjuri-blog]

jooheon.

He had to be more cautious as of late, things were getting pretty intense in the supposedly ‘quiet’ and ‘peaceful’ town he had moved to only a few months ago. While he managed to stay out of any major trouble, Jooheon still felt the need to cause trickery here and there, the kid felt restless with having to lay low. It had been advised to him to hold off on his rank-pulling for a week or two, especially with what seemed to be a hunt for any faes. 

He felt bad for the poor girl they caught, Heon managing to avoid the broadcast of her execution. Even though he never personally met her, nor the people she affiliated with, he was admittedly filled with the utmost empathy to anyone who had ties to her. Lips pursed, Jooheon was in search for a fast way to make money this evening, he felt like going out to have a few drinks. Alas, drinks cost money, and money was the one thing he could never seem to obtain. Legally, anyways. He was usually filled with a great amount of confidence in his thievery, though for some reason he couldn’t help but get the feeling he was being watched. There was something familiar about this magic that seemed to follow. Though, he couldn’t exactly place where he’s felt it before. 

It almost felt.. too familiar. A shiver was sent down the fae’s spine as he flashes back to a time of his life he regrets fully. He had hoped that perhaps his senses where playing tricks on him, but he couldn’t shake off this feeling that whatever seemed to be following him was vampiric. He glances around just in case it could be some familiar faces he didn’t want to run into, breathing a sigh of relief as he spots nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I guess it’s all in my head, huh..” 

There’s something empowering about this, about being able to sneak up on someone undetected; it’s one of the best things about being a vampire, Juri thinks, aside from the sheer strength and superiority it promises. Sometimes, it makes her all the more curious of how other species feel in their skin --- do they inherently think themselves the greatest, too? Do they sense the power strumming beneath their skin, embracing the parts of them that pushes them above and beyond pitiful human states? 

She’s feeling pretty sociable, tonight --- maybe she’l just ask.

But first, she must giggle, amusement in her system as she hears the boy’s mumbled question all too easily. Maybe if she weren’t in such a good mood, she’d resist the temptation to tease him for it --- but unfortunately (for him), that’s not the case. A grin curls her lips as she slinks out of the shadows, bringing herself all too close to the shell of his ear within the blink of an eye. 

“All of what’s in your head?” 

Despite everything, Juri does have a sense of self-preservation, even if it only chimes along in the times where danger isn’t all too pressing and her ego isn’t an obstacle in the way. Just in case, though, she steps away from the male just as quickly as she moved towards him, the trail of her question barely having left her lips. 

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ into pieces.

[obsxjuri-blog]

hyerin.

[ obsxjuri ]

hyerin crushes the cigarette butt under his boot, humming in acknowledgement as his colleague bids him goodbye. a hug, at least a smile, is expected but hyerin’s not fond of being caught unawares by the people he works with: it means he has to make small talk and put up with the company of someone other than himself. a shame that one man can’t tear down every supernatural staining their city - he could if he would. 

his direct supervisor tells him to play it nice, that this kind of pride doesn’t look good on someone as small and cute as him.

hyerin takes it as a threat, of course, but it’s only one that serves to annoy him further with the situation at hand. dsem has done little to solve their problems to be dictating the way they do, recent events proving only that they need to reorganize and restructure everything. he wonders this all to himself, filling his head with grandiose ideas of his own plans, like they’d ever come to fruition instead of collapsing before he even tries to carry them out. 

he’s about to take out another cigarette when his ward prickles and he turns his head sharply. 

standing at the mouth of the alley he can see there’s no one there, but her voice comes from behind him and as he turns, scowl already in place to see she’s appeared on the sidewalk beside him, not five feet away. 

with a scoff, hyerin tucks his hands into his pockets, digging up his phone. “is it now? pretty sure it’ll be yours soon enough.”

he scrolls aimlessly through his phone, an excuse to stare at it longer than he needs to to check the time. “’wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for people like you terrorizing the rest of us.” 

he shouldn’t be entertaining simply by doing nothing at all; the concept of that is near idiotic, really, so there has to be some other reason as to why she’s drawn to staying around him, exchanging verbal blows more than physical ones despite the way the itch to put him in his place below her --- as a species and as an existence --- always wriggles alongside instinct. 

prey, predator --- it’s clear which category he falls under.

there’s a click of her tongue and a hand on her hip when she speaks again. “us? terrorizing ‘the rest of you’?” she could laugh --- she almost does, in fact, and the sound comes out in some mirthless, semi-amused snort. “you humans die every day, even without help, and you hunt us --- and then always push the blame somewhere it shouldn’t be. i guess pathetic excuses like that should be expected, huh?” 

her distaste doesn’t stop her from drawing nearer, almost sauntering in his direction with a smirk on her lips. one shouldn’t underestimate what boredom may do to one’s impulsive tendencies, much less that of an already reckless being.

“but, you know...” she catches traces of his scent underneath the cigarette smoke, can hear the steady pumping of his heart protected by flesh and bone. “if becoming sheep awaiting slaughter is what you want, then it’s quite easy to oblige.” 

[obsxjuri-blog]

─ what the cat dragged in.

[obsxjuri-blog]

shoumu.

shoumu doesn’t have any pets, and that’s probably how it should stay. it’s not that they don’t know a few things about taking care of animals, but they certainly know more about plants—and those few memories are distant, somewhere back in rural japan with their parents and sisters, scattered in the foggy wilds of this “real life”. they aren’t very good at taking care of things, regardless—a little too breezy for that.

so that doesn’t at all explain why they tend to leave their window open to let a breeze in—that’s more or less just because the ventilation isn’t always perfect in their apartment (it’s a cheap place that doesn’t ask a lot of questions; it suits them and their minimalism just fine) and well, if the breeze happens to occasionally bring a cat, shoumu doesn’t really mind.

they’re fairly sure that it’s the same cat every time, the one they’ve taken to calling mike-san—she (all calicos are girls, right?) comes by every now and again, falls asleep on the couch like she belongs there, and leaves before the baku-blooded could even possibly start to mind. cats make good company, they’ve realized; mike listens well and has nothing to complain about, because in fact, she is a cat, and cats are quite simple.

alright. all that said, they are fairly certain that this is not cat-normal. not at all.

shoumu tilts their head, blinking at the animal that’s stumbling around, having just evidently crashed head-first into one end of their desk, from which they’re peeking around. “ah, mike-san? what’s the matter?” they speak, native tongue easy on their lips but clearly conveying a measure of distress; “this—isn’t normal, is it? are you okay?” a broad ear flicks in though, their natural form out in every way—it’s just easier to think this way, when their claws are still delicately balanced on the midi controller in front of them.

objectively speaking, she is far from okay. her head’s spinning and muted colors swirl around her --- her steps are unsteady, her feline body swaying even when she’s not moving. the concept of balance doesn’t exist; someone might as well have wrapped her tail up in duct tape and tied a blindfold around her eyes. the dizziness along with the lack of coordination has her more vocal than ever --- and that’s saying something, considering how talkative she can get in this form when she’s sober. 

of course, ‘talking’ only equates to mewls in direct response to her host’s questions and comments, given the form she’s in. it doesn’t help in the slightest, all things considered, but that’s not the most pressing of her issues in the current moment.  

she’s fallen and she’s apparently forgotten how to get up --- rather, she’s forgotten that her legs exist at all, it seems, and the chorus of yowls that come along with this realization only seem to intensify. 

the one that owns this place is always so soft, so understanding, however --- she may not recall their name (or even remember what they are; she knows they’re not a vampire, but it’s not like she’d ever asked) but she can feel their concern as they observe her, their speech in her native language sounding somehow foreign. for no reason, mind --- she understands them clearly, and could respond in turn were she not in this form, but as far as what language they’re speaking? the name of it slips her mind. 

golden eyes raise to meet theirs directly. and again, she speaks via a pitiful howl. 

[obsxjiho]

Garbage Day

[obsxjuri-blog]

jiho.

Now’s his chance. He doesn’t waste any time once she turns to leave the alley; he immediately pushes himself from the edge of the roof, almost horizontally, and with such force that the tiles and gutter crack and bend to the whim of his talons. His transformation is complete, and he is now an avian monstrosity that would deliver any unsuspecting pedestrian fear for its life. He jettisons himself through the night sky; he needs but only one mighty flap of his wings to glide to his destination. As he passes over her blissfully unaware head, he takes notice of her rather upbeat demeanor. She has no business to act so carefree after dumping her trash in his territory. He isn’t a mere scavenger. He’s a predator, and he intends to clarify that exact misconception.

He lands in the alleyway, not more than a few meters in front of her. His back is turned, and his wings remain unfurled and rest just above the ground, almost like a large cape. He slowly turns his head to face her, his piercing yellow eye latches onto her presence as soon as soon as he regains line of sight. His body then quickly turns to face her. He slowly leers back his entire body as he stretches his wings outward, blocking the path out of the corridor in a wall of feathers. He stands as tall and imposing as he can make himself out to be, and the lack of daylight helps to blur his dark body among itself. The only thing that stands out amidst the silhouette are his eyes, glaring right at hers with all the intent to make her cower in fear. Once he has made his form visible to her, he abruptly folds his wings and hunches forward, as if he was about to pounce. He takes one silent step forward, and pauses for a moment.

Then he screams.

His shriek reverberates across the enclosed walls of the alley. It echoes and reaches far beyond the meek girl that stands before him, as if a dozen raptors cried out in unison. He puts all of the strength behind his lungs into the creation of the unholy sound, and directs the brunt of it right at her face. Even after he has closed his beak, he can still hear the faint echoes in the distance. Anyone within three blocks must have heard that sound, but the only recipient that he cares about is the one in front of him.

He intends to show this girl he isn’t to be taken lightly, and from his point of view, that was a lovely first impression.

Vampires do not fear death. In fact, Juri would dare to say that they should fear nothing but the sun itself, and that should not be regarded as a fear so much as a wariness that looms over their heads --- a distant reminder, but nothing to cower from. The very concept of cowering --- from anyone or anything --- is not one that Juri would particularly align herself to.  

This is no exception. 

She is not afraid of the creature that throws itself into her path, no; she is startled, as anyone of any constitution should be. Her jovial mood finds itself paused, her steps coming to a sudden, forced halt --- irritation is quick to rise once the surprise subsides. Insults sharpen on her tongue, ready to be spat and thrown against those excessive feathers, ready to push his shadowed figure aside and out of her way.

But he screeches. He screeches and it bounces off the walls, assaults her sharpened senses like a knife to her ears. She yells in turn --- less purposed and more pained as she uselessly tries to dampen the sound with her palms --- and it’s drowned out by far, a weak and pitiful attempt in reaction to the unwarranted assault. And unwarranted it was, or at least as far as she saw such; her business had been her own, had it not? Even if she were to go so far as to tear her own mind apart amidst the forming sensory overloaded headache, her thoughts can conclude only one thing from this --- one formed in the stoked fire that is her anger. 

He’s looking for a fight.

There’s nothing else that makes sense in Juri’s head --- why else would he approach her in such a grandiose way, looking to disable her without so much as warning? She doesn’t know him, as far as she knows --- and she’s certain that these sides of town could bolster a number of idiots in its population, even some that would go far enough to assume that they could --- no, that they had any right to approach a vampire, a species that outclassed them by miles. 

Her fangs are bared in a snarl long before he shuts his horrid mouth; even after he stops, the violent ringing in her ears remains, keeping her deafened and dizzy. Yet she stands her ground nonetheless, with claws extended and form stiff, tension coiling in her muscles as she prepares to strike him down where he stands --- a reprimand for his sheer audacity. 

And so she pounces, throwing herself at him like a cat to a particularly brave bird. She may be thrown off balance, her movements much sloppier than they would be at any other time, but she’s far from blind and he’s far from a tiny target; she won’t rest until she feels those stupid feathers caught between her fingers.