* 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝑡𝘩𝑦𝑚𝑒. @ofyejun-blog - Tumblr Blog

avgvstinc‌:

Augustine knows Yejun means well. He’s a good kid, one that really cares about the craft he’s trying to learn, and August respects that, and is happy to lead him in any direction. He should have told him about the booth beforehand, maybe he would have liked to help. Then again, he remembers Yejun having a job, so dropping everything to spend a week hanging out with him and his mom is not a priority.

August huffs, putting his hands on his hips. “Well there goes your one use of “sir” for the week, Yejun. Doctor I can handle, sir just reminds me how fucking old I am.” He turns to look at the setup that Yejun is glancing over. “It’s got a lot of lavender and jasmine in it. My mom uses a bit of aloe to hold it together, and then she imports some seaweed from the Mediterranean. I still don’t get why, I think it just makes it sound better to the person buying it.” He shrugs. “Then some little shit to make it a little bit more pleasant, but that’s the bulk of it.” At least it’s not the nineties, when his mom insisted on putting gold flakes in everything she made because she thought that it looking prettier would help the affect of the charm, and just sell better.

there isn't a day he isn't thankful to be learning from the other. self-taught magic is difficult at best, and impossible at worst, considering yejun has absolutely no magical bone in his body. all he has is the determination, and love for what he wants to do, but there was a time he struggled a lot, the seminars, the countless books he read, there was something missing. they were orchestrated for a purpose, but yejun had a hard time learning from a source he couldn't ask questions. the man in front of him, highly respected and well known in his field, someone he looks up to, had agreed to help yejun by some miracle. hence, he does his best to live up to his own best standards, so that augustine's effort won't be in vain.

his smile turns sheepish at the comment, and yejun has the decency to look away and tilt his head forward for a second, a minuscule bow and a nod at the same time. "yes, doctor. i'm sorry. it's more of a respect thing really, or well, learned habit —-" he tries to amend, but cuts himself short. they have talked about this before, so there is no need to ramble on that particular subject. plus, he really doesn't want to annoy augustine more. instead he listens intently, taking mental note of the concoctions. "oh, i see — then what makes it so potent? jasmine?"

#「 c╰ augustine. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

( closed for @lucindadyer )

the festival has been entertaining but also tiring at the same time. once yejun sees almost every stall, and a good deal of the activities that take place (those that are not scheduled at a certain time), his excitement dwindles down slowly. the festival is in the city after all, and with so many people around, it gets overwhelming very quickly. so, he doesn't even think for a moment once he decides he had enough of it for the day, and begins to head away from the crowd, away from the centre of the city where the stalls litter the streets.

he doesn't even need to think much about the destination either. he wants to go to the woods, walk near the forest where he can have some fresh air and listen to nature, forget about the hustle and bustle of the inner city. it has been more than a few days since he had the opportunity to do just that, and he misses it, feels pulled towards nature when he has been far away from it for a while.

before he has moved far away from the city, however, he sees a familiar face having a smoke, and after a short second of deliberation, he makes his way towards her. yejun knows she enjoys strolls away from the city, so maybe she is also feeling the same about all the people around. "lucy, hi!" he begins once he is within earshot, offering her a smile. "how have you been?" and after a pause he continues, "i was thinking of taking a walk to the woods, would you like to come with me?"

#「 c╰ lucinda. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

clemnewman‌:

IT’S THE INNOCENCE OF THE QUESTION that infuriates him. Any other person and Clem would think they were just shitting on him, but it’s difficult to think of Yejun as being anything else other than earnestly (perhaps almost annoyingly) cheerful and honest. While at work, it’s almost funny, and he takes what little joy he can get out of pushing and testing the young florist’s seemingly infinite supply of patience; but here, it just feels out of place, like a ray of sun that’s shining on him too bright and too early on in the day.

(Of course, he could always move and avoid say ray of sunshine but Clem’s stubborn. Besides, he was here first, so. There’s that.)

“Yes,” Clem says deadpan, “I simply cannot imagine meeting the legendary Mothman while sober.” Though his voice is absolutely and positively dripping with sarcasm, Clem was nodding along as if Yejun had figured it all out. “Can you just imagine? Having to meet him with a clear head as if this wasn’t the most juvenile thing either of you had done? I don’t know how he does it, making a spectacle of himself like that.” Or doesn’t he? In any case, his lips are altogether far too loosened. The effects of the alcohol, perhaps, or maybe this is just who he is as a person, since he knows full well that the alcohol excuse is getting rather old.

“But,” Clem continues, brightening up, “if I’m drunk enough when I meet him—and I most likely will be with the rate this line’s going—I might actually be just drunk enough to slap him in the ass during the photo-op.” His smile widens, before a thought hits him, and he narrows his eyes at Yejun. “Why aren’t you lining up?” The question is almost an accusation, with its sudden appearance and the way it broke his cheerful demeanour, his eyes looking at Yejun as if he was the weird one for not being in line. “Is it Opposite Day today? This is more your thing than mine.” Or, at least, it seems like it is, but far be it from Clem to know what Yejun’s habits and interests were.

a long moment passes where he has no idea if mr. newman means it or not. there are many instances where the man says something but means another thing, which both confuses yejun, and makes him even more wary of the older. he doesn't like sarcasm, understands it half of the time and well, it's biting most of the time, which is not nice. so, for the time being, he decides to believe the lawyer; he is waiting at a queue with many more people behind him after all, this is too elaborate to be a lie.

so instead, he nods as the other speaks, there are a few cryptids he would feel the same about, so really, it's nice to see mr. newman excited at the prospect of meeting someone. yejun had always thought the man was too calm and collected for things like this, but this proves once again that he really doesn't know him that well. "please don't drink too much though, you would like to remember it, wouldn't you?" maybe it isn't the best idea of his to give advice, but he really can't stop himself. "oh! would you like me to take a video of the meet? so you can re-live it later if you forget any details!" it's not like he has anywhere to go, and even if mr. newman does make him nervous most of the time, he is convinced it will be just fine.

the idea of him slapping mothman in the ass, well, that does make yejun grimace a little. he knows the famous statue, and the rumors of the cryptid having an impressive behind, but still — "wouldn't he be upset though? i think you should stick to the meeting, mr. newman, they could escort you out of there, and it would be a shame if your time with him got cut short." yejun points out gingerly, head tilted when the question is turned to him. "i was thinking of getting a photo signed by him because everyone seems to want that but — the line looks... a bit too long. i'm not a fan, though, unfortunately... it's so thrilling he came here though! people seem to be very happy to see him —"

#「 c╰ clement. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

retro-spective

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#「 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽╰ musings. 」

drsloane‌:

[ open starter ]

These days, there’s not a whole lot that can bring Sloane out of their mansion.

Some choice items on the short list include: family summons (but only occasionally), collecting experiment ingredients that can’t be delivered or grown, a full moon, margarita nights at the local Chilli’s, and hauling someone into what can loosely be classified as an adventure. Being a shut-in the rest of the time suits Sloane just fine.

But then, there’s things like: visits from Mothman.

Which lead to other things like: standing in line at Mothman’s booth, fifteen people deep in the queue, standing on tip-toe to try to get a glimpse of him, all the while cradling an enormous pumpkin in their arms that’s carved with a crude rendition of the cryptid himself.

“He sounds like beating wings and shining photons,” they say dreamily to the person in line behind them. “He’s so tall.“

The poor person behind them doesn’t quite seem to know what to say to that, so, Sloane turns to a new target. A passerby gets halted by Sloane shoving the pumpkin at them, demanding, “Hold this for a minute. And don’t break it; I need Mothman to bless it.” With that, they start patting themself down, presumably looking for something. “Fuck, I forgot a pen. How is he going to bless the pumpkin without a pen? Do you have a pen? Or– no, not a pencil, maybe some ink? Henna? A tattoo gun? Blood? You probably have blood.” Pause. “I won’t ask for it, though,” they assure solemnly. “Seriously, though. Pen?”

it has been an eventful day to say the least — yejun's backpack is full of knick-knacks he probably doesn't need, as well as snacks and pastries that he is looking forward to sharing. even if he was skeptical about the festival at first, the wide assortment of home-made food was enough to lift his spirits, as well as the small decorations he found. only if he could convince someone to sell him pumpkin seeds to plant (or other kinds of seeds), his day would be complete.

he's passing by the queue of people again when he is handed a pumpkin all of a sudden, and even though he is startled, he manages to focus on the task at hand instead. the boy balances it carefully, tilting his arm so the bag in his hand is hanging off his wrist instead. he is wide eyed as he watches them talk, his head tilted. wow, they must be a big fan — the thought crosses his mind; there seems to be a lot of fans around. yejun doesn’t fall under that category, but he supposes he understands the hype. it’s not everyday you meet the mothman after all.

his attention on the other’s words, he tries not to wince at the mention of using blood as ink. even if it’s for a spell, mixing blood and blessings aren’t really a good sign. he knows that much. "uh —" he begins, and when they move onto simply asking a pen, yejun decides to take the blood part as a joke, offering a smile. "i do! i have some in my backpack. uh — it's on the front— my hands are full but you can get it if you want-" he begins, turning to his side and motioning it with his head. “there should be some colored ones, as well as some other pens in my pencil case—”

#「 c╰ sloane. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

clemnewman‌:

THERE’S ONLY ONE REASON WHY CLEM WOULD WANT TO SEE MOTHMAN, and that’s to see if the real Mothman’s ass truly held a candle to the ass he saw while he was in West Virginia. It might be asking for too much and reality was always so disappointing, but he still finds himself in line for the Mothman stall, despite literally haranguing against Mothman superfans in his head just a while ago—do they really call themselves Mothheads?—and it’s why he’s here to stay, despite the long line and the sun beating down on his back and his rather undeniable need to take a drink. Or two.

The line moves at a snail’s pace—or scratch that, it moves even slower than a snail’s pace. Clem doesn’t know what’s taking so long, or if perhaps he can throw money away at the problem: take a guard or something and flash a couple Benjamins just for a bump at the line, but he doesn’t want to make the cryptid think Violl’s Cove is somehow profitable and return next year for an encore.

With nothing else to do, he takes out his flask and takes a drink. Catching the eye of someone else watching him, he stops and takes a pause. “I’d offer you a taste,” he says, which is a goddamn lie, but… well, they don’t know that. “Unfortunately, I’m very particular with who I share bodily fluids with.”

yejun... doesn't really know why he is here. he didn't have a particular interest in mothman before this, and probably wouldn't travel to see the figure either. could it be herd mentality maybe? or simply curiosity got the better of him. especially when there was a huge group of people lining up, whispering and looking so excited. he had time to kill, so speaking with the famous icon would be nice wouldn't it? and if he got an autograph out of it, it would be a quirky decoration at home, a fun memory to look back on.

what he doesn't expect is to see is... clement newman. yejun never thought the man would be a fan, let alone bother enough to wait at a queue for anyone — but then again, yejun really doesn't know much about him save for the moments spent at his office for work. there are a few reasons why he is so wary of the man, and he isn't ready to change that just yet. however, he gets caught red-handed, eyes staring at the flask before the man starts to talk.

"uh-— uhm. hi, mr. newman." eyes wide, he tries to start, but there is little he can say to that. "no, thank you but — wouldn't you like to be sober to meet him? as a fan that is —-" and yejun is still skeptical about that fact, but continues nonetheless, eyes widening in realization before he continues. "oh! are you nervous to meet him? i saw a few more people who felt the same -— understandable, really—"

#「 c╰ clement. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

nicholscn‌:

;: open

Far enough from the festivities to not be part of the crowd, and close enough to still hear the music and smell the kettle corn, Andy sits on a park bench and watches from afar. Somewhere over there he lost his mom, no doubt to some kind of market stall selling beaded jewelry. He figures he’ll let her walk for a while. She would know where to find him later.

The booth housing this year’s guest of honor catches his eye.

“Do you think he would be as famous if someone ripped his wings off?” He would never do such a thing, but one has to wonder. “Would he even be Mothman at that point? Or, like, Caterpillar-man?”

the loud music and the chatter of the people become too much quickly, and even though yejun had his own share of fun at one point, he decides to put some distance between himself and the festival. a pack of candy corn in his hand, he strolls through the streets to the park, lighting up when he sees his roommate. "andy!" the boy exclaims before making his way towards the man, then settles down next to him.

a laugh leaves his lips at the question, and he holds out the bag of corn candy to the other as he thinks for a moment. "if it's for an aesthetical purpose, i feel like they can give him new wings. flying all the time must be tiring, i don't even know if he uses them that often... realistically speaking though, caterpillar-man sounds very... boring. imagine him crawling to a fan event —" a small pause, he shakes his head. “he would lose most of his appeal, wouldn’t he?”

#「 c╰ andy. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

avgvstinc‌:

> | OPEN

Augustine has always had a hard time saying no to his mom. The two have always been close. She’s raised him on her own as far as they’re concerned. Not in a bitter way, but the means that they’ve grown together. Every year she sets up shop at the Violl’s Cove Fall Festival. She sets up her charms and her potions and all the little plants that she’s gifted with healthy growing. She makes her happy cookies and her love brownies and people eat it up every year. Every year Augustine helps out. Every year when her bones get a bit weaker, he’s carrying more boxes from his car and spending less time looking cute for the locals.

He’s got the stack of crates beside one of the tables. She’s out in front of the stand greeting familiar faces. He’s placing things out in the display she likes, seeing as someone’s coming to gaze on the goods. He watches them pick on up. “That stuff’s a little too helpful.” He chuckles to himself, “I took it once when my sleeping was real out of sorts… slept for like three days straight.” He whistles. “Really pay attention to the serving size on that one.”

it's going to be the second fall festival yejun has ever seen in violl's cove, and even though he can't help but feel apprehensive about crowds, a change of scenery is enough to get him intrigued. and once his curiosity piqued, it's not something he can let go easily. as such, when his boss lets him off work early, he decides to visit the little market. luckily to him, it's not as populated as he had initially feared; perhaps it's because it's a weekday and not quite evening just yet, or there could be a fan activity further away? he isn't quite sure, should probably read the pamphlet if there is any.

while he's strolling through the stalls, the familiar face catches his attention immediately, a smile spreading across his features as his feet take him towards the man. "hi, sir — didn't know you would be here." yejun speaks softly, nodding slightly when he stops in front of the stall. his attention is pulled towards the items on display immediately, hand curling around one to look at it closer. "oh, really?" imagining that puts a grimace on his face. "i hope it was a good rest, at least. must have been inconvenient, though." unable to stop himself from asking, curious eyes meet his for a moment before he speaks. "uhm, what is in it?"

#「 c╰ augustine. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」

hi hi ! i’m kay, 20, i reside in the gmt+3 timezone and go by she/her pronouns ~ i’m so pumped for this kfjdhgdf, i tend to ramble lots so i apologize in advance !! in this lovely place, i’ll be roleplaying as YEJUN SONG, the chimera, who is a former botany major, now a florist’s assistant and an aspiring green witch. he is completely an oddball and talks to plants way to often ;; you can find his full bio HERE, but i’ll jot down some bullet points below to sum yejun up — i would loove to get some plots & threads going so pls dont hesitate to hit me up over at discord or give this a heart ♡ and i’ll sliiide into ur dms instead!

#intro.#「 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚╰ ooc. 」

roseydoux

#「 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽╰ musings. 」

「 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥 」

「 𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅, 𝖻𝖾 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡╰ portrait. 」「 𝗂𝗇 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗐𝗇𝗌╰ headcanons. 」「 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽╰ musings. 」「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」「 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨╰ paras. 」「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙣 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽╰ playlist. 」「 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚╰ ooc. 」「 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒╰ answered. 」

#「 𝗂𝗇 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗐𝗇𝗌╰ headcanons. 」#「 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽╰ musings. 」#「 𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡╰ portrait. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿╰ convos. 」#「 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨╰ paras. 」#「 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙣 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽╰ playlist. 」#「 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚╰ ooc. 」#「 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒╰ answered. 」

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