#&eve

[halloweenacara]

trauma counseling for the dead

[halloweenacara]

hi i accidentally made eve’s death too sad (and too long)

(tw murder)

it was an accident.

that’s what the papers said, and the company. she was drunk, and she stumbled, and she fell. she couldn’t have been pushed. it couldn’t be true.

she was in love, you see, she had a beautiful lady at home who she loved more than life. she was lovely, a dancer. eve’s heart was full when they were together, and her name alone brought a sigh of longing to her lips. she talked about her all the time at work. they had just moved in together when it happened.

there was someone else. a man at the saw mill, who loved the dancer too. he had met her at a work event, where everyone brought their ladies, and found her beautiful. eve was not to his tastes- too tall, too opinionated, too masculine. but her girl, oh, he lusted after her. he was jealous of a woman who called him a friend.

after work one night, the boys brought drinks, and they had a little party. he and eve were the last ones there, after the others stumbled home. he told her he was in love with her girl, and she laughed. he insisted, begged, threatened her, and she threw a punch. they fought. she lost. she fell. he got away with it. no one ever found out.

everyone was shocked when they heard what happened, none moreso than her lady. she fell into a deep depression. she stopped dancing. the light in her eyes that burned so brightly when they were together, went out. she dove into the occult, trying desperately to talk to her again, to say i love you one last time. it never worked.

eve had never really left though. she haunted her love, tried to talk back. she put all her weight into pushing the planchette, but it never moved an inch. screamed into the medium’s ear, but she heard nothing. wrote messages into the steam on the mirror, but her finger faded through the droplets. i love you i love you i love you, she shouted and whispered and cried. no one heard a sound.

eventually her lady died too. she never married, never dated anyone again. she spent her whole life trying to reach into death and never succeeded. eve haunted her til the end, hoping beyond hope she would join her in ghosthood, but as her eyes closed for the last time, no ethereal shape rose from her body. no wisp of smoke. no soul. she was gone, truly.

so she returned to where she died. business had gone on in her absence. the blade and the machine had been replaced, of course, but its successor still turned. she would stop that, she decided. she would haunt the hell out of this place. she was full of sorrow and rage and crushing disappointment. she ruined that business. sounds of footsteps late at night, distant screams, broken-down machines and dead batteries.

decades after her death, decades after the saw mill closed down, a man and a demon walked in. the man ran his finger over the old rusty blade and shuddered, a pained look on his face. he looked up at the balcony where eve’s ghost stood (a little off-center- it was hard to keep the two pieces together). he couldn’t have seen her. no one else had. how could he? was it possible?

[themosthatedbeingg]

"Don't you want me like I want you, baby? Don't you need me like I need you now? Sleep tomorrow, but tonight go crazy."

-- Eve @redemonarc

All you gotta do is meet me at the

아파트 아파트

Uh, uh huh uh huh

It’s whatever it’s whatever it’s whatever you like

Turn this 아파트 into a club

I’m talking drink, dance, smoke, freak, party all night “

[mpyako]

[ weep ]

[ weep ]  for your muse to catch mine crying // word prompts: ACCEPTING

It had been a long, long while now since Yako had been back. She had abandoned her mother long ago, but she still took her trips every so often to visit her little brother. Now, though, it felt like an eternity since she had been able to. Between debuting and touring and promoting and meetings and practices - just thinking about how busy her schedule was made her head swim. She wished she could be carefree, like Felix, and as beloved. She wished she could grow strong, like Taeyong. She wished she had a family that cared about her. Even with Hoshio, one young boy couldn’t replace a family, especially with how infrequently she saw him. There were too many people who hated Yako, and with good reason. She was cruel - no. She could be cruel, and she had been. There was no way to go back and undo that, undo the way her step-family had treated her, undo the things her ex-boyfriends had done to her, it just wasn’t possible. 

Even dressed cutely as she was, frilled pink skirt and blouse, full and shining red cherry appliques abounding, Yako fell deeper and deeper into the spiral of despair. All at once it became too much, and the girl ran off into the small alley beside Minx, collapsing against the wall with choked, heaving cries. She curled her arms around her knees and just sat there in the dirt, letting all the anger and sadness and hatred and loneliness burst out of her with each sob. Yako barely heard when someone approached.

“GO AWAY!”

[mpyako]

maybe you should draw your gun

“You say that like I have one!”

Which maybe she didn’t, but at any given time, Yako had on her person between two and four knives of different lengths and thicknesses, a set of very sharp brass knuckles in the shape of a cat dangling from her purse like a keychain, a can of pepper spray designed like a fake tube of lipstick, a tiny bottle of chloroform (just in case of emergencies), and a pack of zip ties just long enough to fit nice and tight around a person’s hands if they were pressed together behind their back.

All the usual things.

But no gun.

Not yet.

“Anyway, I don’t need a gun. I’m a shape-shifter, I can fight them off with claws and teeth and stuff if they try to bother us.” She did, however, lift her skirt halfway up her thigh to slide the switchblade out from where it was strapped against her thigh with a pick garter. “But I have this if it makes you feel better,” and she pushed the button to open the blade and show it off. The men who had been following them since they had left the nightclub really wouldn’t stand a chance against the two of them.

[mpyako]

“Something smells rotten.”

“Tell me about it,” Yako replied, rolling her eyes at the scene unfolding before them.

What had previously been a welcome respite from a long week of working had quickly gone sour. After finishing up her shift at Stop&Paws, Yako had run straight home to wash off the animal food smell and get changed to head out to a local night club. She had looked pretty good too; a purple skirt covered in sequins and not much wider than a belt wrapped tightly around her hips. A simple black lace-up tank top showed off her carefully sculpted arms and stomach, and her hair - shifted for the night to be long and slightly curly so she could put it up in a fun high ponytail - crowned her glittered and thickly dark eye makeup. Some particularly reflective light pink gloss had completed the look.

Now, those same pink and shiny lips were turned into a pout. Just a little bit ago, someone had crashed into Yako, almost knocking her over. If her body had been any less carefully toned, she may have toppled to the floor on her towering silver glitter-covered chunky heels, but her job at Zero to Hero kept her in perfect shape. The shapeshifting helped too, of course.

When Yako had turned to figure out what was happening, she found a couple of guys - obviously drunk - shoving each other back and forth in the middle of the dance floor. Beside them, a less-but-still drunk girl looked terribly embarrassed and a little uncomfortable. Apparently the guys were fighting over her or something. Pathetic, really. In her entire terrible dating experience, she had never met a man that she would fight another girl over. Except maybe Ruyi. But Ruyi was a very special case.

“Ugh. Men ruin everything.” Then Yako grinned at the girl beside her who had apparently also been disturbed by the outbreak of fighting. “Wanna jump in? We can always say they attacked first and we were just defending ourselves, that’s technically what happened~”