#1 ZERO

ikuta toma, thirty-three, creator of wine & associate professor of advertising and public relations at the university of noa.

[tsxbinx]

elastic heart

[tsxyuko-deactivated20150318]

{‘Honestly, she could help but to chuckle at the two. They were adorable, and she couldn’t help but to look at the both as warring siblings. } You two need to behave. {’ She let go of the man’s hand to reach up and affectionately stroke his cheek.} Aren’t you too old to act like this? I’m far from a traitor! I’m merely a neutral force! {’ However, her eyes widened as she watched Binx whack the man in the head, even though a part of her agreed with the younger female.} Binx! That was uncalled for now! {’ Her hand reached out to caringly smooth down the hair that had been hit out of place. Moving back to her spot, she scooted over so that the younger female could sit down. Her fingers moving up to stroke a strand of the girl’s hair behind her ear.} What am I going to do with the two of you? Hmm? You should both be happy that I love you two enough to tolerate this. {’ She whined out, but the offering instantly grabbed her attention.} It would be rude to turn that down. {’ She grinned widely before leaning to happily steal a bit of the food before affectionately giving the younger girl a rather appreciative and motherly kiss on the top of her head.}

[tsxtoma]

we're a lost cause, binx and i. {`he grinned, albeit not necessarily taking his eyes off of the younger woman. none of them had told yuko (nor were they planning to), but they would most likely never function the way the counselor would prefer them to. their inner demons couldn't play nice even if they wanted to, and this charade of childishness was his part of hiding that. } and what do you mean, too old? {`he gasped in feigned disagreement. } i'm never too old for anyth-- {`at least that pestering young adult knew how to shut him up, if only momentarily. } hey! {`he sputtered in surprise, expertly masking his his desire to wrap the thickest of wines around her throat and lift her up by the neck. instead he happily let yuko's caring touch distract the reptile-like behavior from flaring up within. } i said i'd make it up to you, but you just blew that. {`regardless he had no choice but to move aside just in time, since binx wasn't one to wait for approval. instead he just huffed and puffed, as he was supposed to do, and made sure to equip himself with a grin regardless. easygoing -- that's what he was. } you love me more though, eh? {`he wiggled his eyebrows some for added effect. } am i right, or am i right? {`he perked up at the offering of food, looking betrayed enough for someone who had stolen half of it the night before. } what? so i'm not getting any? fine. {`he muttered before leaning back in the couch. } i'll just eat these, then. {`he conjured a small vine that appeared through the sleeve of his shirt, and in his palm he grew big, succulent grapes that he bit off one by one. in the meantime he peered over at the two women, his vine silently telling a tale of genuine fear of losing yuko the more binx interfered, as if her affection wasn't big enough to sustain both of them at the same time. } so... binx. {`he obnoxiously nudged her shoulder with his own, as if to nag her into paying more attention to him than their company. even if he had to behave like a child to do so. } how's school, huh?  

[tsxtoma]

Yonderly & Xenization !

what kinds of things do they think about when they zone out?

on the off chance that he doesn't think about his diabolical plans of destruction and ruin -- sex. that's it. he'll reminiscence about the countless of orgies he conducted (and participated in) in the past, or he'll fantasize about future conquests. occasionally he'll get nostalgic about particularly memorable individuals and acts.

how do they feel about interacting with strangers?

fantastic. that's his specialty. he'd rather spend his entire lifetime surrounded by a sea of strangers than a handful of people that he's considered 'close' to. the familiarity created when you've known someone long enough makes him sick to his stomach, and he can generally only take it for so long before he's hit with an immediate desire to end them. so he loves strangers, and interacts with them often and willingly. he is, however, good at keeping them strangers no matter how often they meet -- and that's usually what he desires: the anonymity it grants him.

[ogurin-tomasu]

[tsxtoma]

yonderly: what kinds of things do they think about when they zone out?

since i got two of these i decided to split the answers up!

if not reminiscing about the past, he’ll go over his current ‘projects’. if there are people in the world that (on a larger scale) disturbs his existence and proves to be a hindrance, it is in his biggest interest to get rid of them — alternatively disarm them. he’ll do this by (over the course of time) turning them into alcoholics. if they’re more beneficial to him alive (or if he’d be a prime suspect for their death) he’ll keep them addicted to the point where it hinders their daily lives, but without bringing them to the brink of death. if he does, however, wish them gone — he’ll just keep going, constantly manipulating their alcohol intake (by trying to substitute most of it with his own, far more harmful, wine), until it naturally kills them. to return to the question: the second thing he’ll think about when he zones out is the current progress of his projects, and how (alternatively if), it is time to put in a higher gear to speed up the process, or take it down a notch if someone seems to be approaching death quicker than he anticipated.

[tsxtoma]

Yonderly

what kinds of things do they think about when they zone out?

he will attempt to reminiscence exactly where he went wrong, because he’s still not entirely sure. the current state of his gift is corrupted and vile — compared to what it originally was intended to be. he’s aware of the fact that he is the root of the problem, and while he understands the progress (and how he’s at fault), he still can’t pinpoint what started it all. and that’s bugging him to such a degree that it’s the first and foremost thing he thinks about whenever he zones out. because even if it’s all in the past (and seemingly irreversible) he is obsessed with the idea of knowing that fact in particular, as if he will be a more ‘whole’ person if he does. which isn’t the case, but he’s blind to that.

[tsxtoma]

Unusual Word Headcanon Prompts #1

Acersecomic: How much effort do they put into personal grooming and hygiene?

Biblioclasm: Is there something about themselves they wish fewer people knew about?

Cacodemonomania: Do they believe in the paranormal? If so, have they had any supernatural encounters?

Dactylion: What are their views on swearing and profanity?

Enantiodromia: What's the most extreme personality shift they've gone through in their life?

Fanfaronade: Are they one to boast? What things are they prone to brag about, if any?

Gorgonize: What distracts them when they're trying to get things done?

Hamartia: What is their worst character flaw that they themselves don't recognize?

Infandous: What topics will they refuse to speak about?

Jettatura: If they could place a magical curse on their worst enemy, what would they want the curse to do?

Ktenology: Have they ever planned a murder, whether serious or not? If so, describe what they planned to do.

Leptosome: How is their body image?

Montivagant: How often do they get lost?

Noegenesis: Are there any topics that they love to think about deeply?

Ostentiferous: What's the unluckiest thing that's ever happened to them?

Pogonotrophy: What are their thoughts on facial hair, both on themselves and/or others?

Quockerwodger: Who do they most often mock?

Recumbentibus: What was their greatest victory?

Scripturient: Are they a good writer? What do they usually write, if anything?

Tarantism: Describe their dancing style.

Ultracrepidarian: What do they think they know more about than they actually do?

Vernalagnia: Does their mood or outlook on life change with the seasons? If so, how?

Welter: What subject will they never fully understand?

Xenization: How do they feel about interacting with strangers?

Yonderly: What kinds of things do they think about when they zone out?

Zugzwang: What's the trickiest problem they face in their life right now?

[tsxbinx]

elastic heart

[tsxyuko-deactivated20150318]

{’ Lazily leaning upon the couch, the noise of the other’s entrance instantly had the woman pop up. Her eyes scanning the room till it lingered upon the other. A bright smile quickly growing upon her visage.} Binx. It’s nice seeing you. {’ She cooed out gently. Her hand lingering lightly upon Toma’s knee as she balanced herself in a more upright position. Her eyes moved upon the other figure as she watched her with adoration.} Isn’t she adorable? {’ She whispered toward Toma as she glanced over at him after Binx’s temper flare in the mere moment she turned away. Yet, this lasted a mere second before her eyes were back upon the other female.} Violence isn’t the answer, sweetie. I’ve told you this before.  {’ Turning back to Toma, Yuko moved her hand down to take Toma’s hand into hers. Her fingers moved to intermingle with his as her free hand tighten over over his wrist.} I trust you, Binx. Why don’t you try and pinch him? I’m not a fan of doing other people’s dirty work. {’ Sticking her tongue out playfully, she nodded her head while giving the female a reassuring look. } I won’t let him escape.

[tsxtoma]

see? that's what i was-- {`with a finger pointed towards the tv, as if to confirm that his assumption about the movie's plot was correct, he was cut off mid-speech when binx appeared. a grin immediately nestled itself upon his lips regardless of her subtle disagreement about everything that was currently going on. } yeah, it's nice seeing you. {`he cooed in response, happily parroting yuko in her much more heartfelt greeting. nor did he think much of the accusation thrown his way, even if it was 100% true. with one arm slung over the couch's backrest he threw a glance in her direction. } you sure? i bet you're just imagining things. {`the world 'adorable' had him snort as he settled down into the couch again and looked over at her. } adorable as a spoiled puppy. {`he whispered back, all while deciding to stay absolutely silent when some kind of reprimand for his actions were discussed. instead he just nodded diligently as yuko spoke of how violence was not how this situation should be handled, and in a moment of weakness he was far more interested in intertwining their fingers together than realizing that she had an ulterior motive for doing so. } woah-- shit, okay. wait a minute. {`he threw the older woman a quick glance and mimicked the word 'traitor' before turning to look over at binx, his free hand outstretched as if to demonstrate some kind of boundary between the two of them. } i'll by you twice as much food next time, and--- wait, stop. stay. {`maybe he genuinely got her confused with a puppy that would listen to basic commands, but there was a hint of slight concern growing within him. he really didn't want to get pinched. he knew fully well what she was capable of. } i promise i won't eat any of it next time. it's all yours. how about that? eh, yuko? {`he tried to smile his way over on her good side again, kind of nudging her shoulder to make her re-think the situation. } doesn't that sound good?

[tsxtoma]

seasons ( waiting on you )

[tsxyuko-deactivated20150318]

Yuko’s whole day went through helping one student to another. Luckily, the more intense students did not need to visit her, but it was a day filled with stressed students and borderline depressed ones. School here seemed to excel at driving these poor minds closer to the brink of collapse. How on Earth was one little woman supposed to mentally support the large expanse of this academy? Yet today, she pulled through what she could, and as her last student left her door, she found herself before a stack of papers of which she knew she would have to paddle through or else drown within it tomorrow morning. 

[tsxtoma]

It was the one thing she despised about the job. She had became a counselor for she knew what it was like to struggle through torment this “blessing” brought.  She was a damaged woman helping damaged students. It seemed destined to be a failure, but at the moment, she was focused on typing her notes on her cute pink laptop the university so gratefully gave her. It seemed to be a mountain before her, yet with every sip of her hot chocolate, one paper seemed to disappear within a file in her cabinet and as an icon within her folder. Had she not been too busy focusing on the task before her, she would have been mentally congratulating herself all throughout the way. 

Yet after a few hours past, she had made it through the pile of needless papers. She would have been at home at this time, watching one of her favorite television shows. However instead of whining, she got up and stretched her legs and arms. A sigh left her lips, and while she was tired from the mind numbing work, she did her rounds around her ivy and flower covered walls, ensuring that her plants would be safe and happy throughout the night.  This was the last of her to-do list, and as she was about to go gather her things, the sudden knock on the door startled her. 

However, the face that appeared behind the opened door immediately brought a grin upon her lips. “Oh, you! ” She exclaims before whining out in a soft voice. “You scared me! I thought you were a student.” Chuckling to herself, she moved behind her desk to grab her bag and purse. She spent a short time making sure that she did leave her keys within the messy bag before she moved for to stand in front of him. Her hand delicately reaching up to cup his cheek, before her fingers squished the flesh in an affectionate manner. 

"Even if I was busy dear, I would make the time for you." She cooed at cutely toward the older male. Her hand reached over to flick the switch within her room. Her figure momentarily plunged into darkness, yet her fingers moved down to playful push upon his chest. A small laugh leaving her evidently cheerful visage. "Luckily, for you. I’m starving." She hums out at him as she gingerly pushed him out of the way so she could lock and shut her office. "Let’s go eat then. I’m in the mood for something clearly unhealthy." She grabbed his arm with a gentle squeeze. "Just lead the way. I’m here to follow."

Toma snorted in amusement from where he stood, his head comfortably leaning against the door frame while he watched her tend to her precious plants. Was it childish that he was jealous of a plant? Probably. "Yeah, those students sure are scary," he teased with a grin, but he knew better than to correct her notion that he was nothing to be afraid of -- she'd re-evaluate him soon enough. Until then, though, he'd happily accept her affections with open arms. 

Her kindness was nice in moderate doses. 

The professor didn't even try to hide the way he leaned into her touch, cherishing those few seconds of contact before she pinched his cheek and he crinkled his nose in response. Not that he wasn't used to it, though -- and he found it completely endearing. "Oh, how that warms my heart," he mumbled with a grin as the room turned dark and he let his gaze flicker down at the fingers pressed against his chest. It was torture, pure torture, the way her touches were brief and innocent when he wanted them to be anything but -- and it always had his mind wander into places it shouldn't.

That's why he couldn't even bother pretending to dislike the way she pushed him out of the way, because he didn't. She could push him anywhere, anytime. He knew better than to gawk like a smitten, hormonal teenager though, so he kept the emotions displayed on his face highly appropriate and friendly -- if only while they were still inside the school. No, he had to practice self-restraint, and having Yuko by his side was a perfect opportunity to to just that.

"Clearly unhealthy is right up my alley," he cooed in delight, happily leading her out of the building and into the cool breeze of February. He never really spent time with other people the way he spent time with her, and it was refreshing. It made him feel slightly more human than he was used to, and sometimes he could handle that. Like tonight -- tonight he didn't mind being more whole than broken. "Do you crave something in particular, or am I free to pick and choose as I please?" 

He completely ignored to comment on how she was there 'to follow', because man did the gears in his head turn -- it was dangerous of her to admit such things to him, however jokingly, because he'd make a reality of it sooner rather than later. But, again, self-restraint -- he had enough of it to get through this without raising suspicion. Instead he guided her towards the most beautiful road leading to a handful of his most favorite restaurants.

"How was your day?" he murmured softly before grinning with a glimmer of mischievousness flashing through his eyes, "I hope you didn't miss me too much."

[fuckyeahikutatoma-blog]

[tsxtoma]

* firestone

[rmchangmin-blog]

the kanji still, at times, gave him more trouble than he considered it worth; three-thousand characters in the vocabulary of the average japanese person, though shin jaehee was far from average, and it was much the same with his class-load. in the background, the off-tune humming of the librarian could beheard, beyond the murmur of students whispering back and forth as if no one could hear them. his fingers played across the wispy paper bearing thecharacters, brows furrowing uncertainly at a few particular ones before he gavein with a quiet sigh and consulted his dictionary.

[tsxtoma]

“no—“ jaehee whispered, before his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth and he moved onto the next page. definitions jumped off the page first, written in his mother tongue—or at least one of them—and the character itself last. his hand moved in phantom strokes over them, memorizing the ones he deemed useful while he searched for the initial trouble spots. genius didn’t come without some measure of effort, after all. maybe he’d buy himself a good meal after all this.

with a faint curve of his lips and a quiet hum, his thoughts drifted back to a time when such a reward wouldn’t have been possible. six months, and he’d hardly gotten out of the habit of weighing himself in the morning to be sure he wasn’t outside of his “ideal” range. it was only after weeks spent back in his family home that the sharp lines of his cheekbones had softened enough to satisfy the worries of his step-mother.

“were they starving you, jaehee-ah?” she always asked, and he’d never had the heart to answer. no—but at times, it’d felt as if he’d die.

sometimes for another reason entirely.

Read More

Toma hardly ever thought of himself as intruding -- now included. Was his presence appreciated? Highly debatable. But that's how he worked, claiming ground step by step as if it was rightfully his for the taking. Not without tact, of course. He knew what he was doing, carefully wrapping his true intentions in a better light. In something seemingly genuine. 

By now he was grinning through a low chuckle, all while offering a slight nod to acknowledge the statement. "Who's to say I'm not?" 

He leaned back into the chair to get more comfortable, and just like always it came natural to act as if they didn't lack those vital steps going from strangers to actual friends. Familiarity was his forte, even if he had to put in a little bit of extra work with those selected few that weren't still, for a lack of better word, under his spell. He didn't mind, though -- Toma was a highly social person. 

"I've still got the night. No one can take that away from me." 

None could overthrow his reign without expecting a fight to the death. 

But that was far too detailed for a conversation such as this, and as a professor he ought to at least try and act like one. Or, if anything, refrain from conveying information that could actually get him fired if it started circulating. Not to say that he wasn't always treading on the fine line determining what was accepted and what wasn't. "But admittedly I stick to Japan now. It's more convenient that way." 

Instead he decided to shift focus onto something that he, for various reasons, had abstained from delving deeper into while in Paris. He never deemed it important to the point where he had to deviate from his original plan, but today was different. This university was different. And so the question finally didn't feel out of place.

"I never had the opportunity to ask before," he admitted and continued, "as a natural, what's your gift? If you don't mind me asking." 

Gift... whoever thought of it as something so positive was a complete moron, but that was to be expected. And all the same he found himself using the same word when bringing it up. A gift... more like the Scandinavian 'gift' that spoke of poison. There's no blessing to be found in naturals such as himself. 

And he might be polite in giving Remy a choice to decide whether or not he'd disclose such information, but he was fully aware of the fact that he could easily look it up at the end of the day if he had to. 

Another perk of being a professor.

[tsxtoma]

seasons ( waiting on you )

tsxyuko

With no recollection of when he went to sleep, Toma took his time opening his eyes. He did, however, expect it to be pleasantly dark as it always was in his room, but instead the glaring light stung his head and he abruptly tried to blink it away. Since when did he sleep with the lights on?

That's when he became aware of his position, and when he understood that he was sat hunched over something the professor tried his hardest to make out details in his surroundings. While it took a few seconds, he soon saw that this was, indeed, not his own bedroom -- instead he must've fallen asleep after class. 

"Shit..." he mumbled and straightened up, one hand darting up to rub at his face. This could not happen again. It just couldn't. 

With a brief glance around the room he was relieved to find that he was alone, and so he began the task of packing up. He did so on autopilot, and while his hands got to work he tried to understand what had caused this. Toma couldn't remember any tiredness or fatigue that was worth mentioning, and he seldom had a desire to spend more time in the university than he had to -- so how had this even been possible in the first place? 

But it had obviously been out of his control, and he had to leave it at that. Instead he turned the lights off, locked the door behind him and headed to the nearest toilet to wash the sleep out of his face. This was an incident best forgotten, so he had to look fresh and awake.

Fingers absentmindedly drummed against the bag he carried, eyes darting towards that one window to Yuko's office. He was pleasantly surprised when he could spot her figure as nothing but a shadow on the floor, and that was enough to let his mind wander. He had nothing planned, and whether she cared to admit it or not she was far more lonely than she let on, and if there was something Toma knew how to do, it was to take advantage of people. She was lonely, he was lonely -- done. 

No further explanation needed.

Swift like a thief at night she swept in front of her door and gave it a few quick knocks for awareness, but all the same he didn't wait for her to open the door. instead he carefully pushed it ajar enough for him to peek through the opening and make sure that the shadow had been hers. as soon as his eyes fell upon the counselor his lips broke out into a smile. "hey. you're here later than usual." 

As soon as he said that he realized that he had no idea what time it was, but a subtle glance towards the clock ensured him that yes -- it was later than usual. 

Now that he already had one foot in he pushed the door open even further, but instead of stepping inside he decided to merely lean against the door frame. He didn't think she was planning on staying much longer either way, so he wasn't going to make himself too comfortable.

"Are you free when you're done?" His smile grew more playful, albeit just as soft and adoring. "It's high time for dinner if you are."

[tsxtoma]

* talking body

[tsxkotone]

for the most part the brunette is listening carefully - to eager students raising their hands through passionate disarray of voices, to what the professor had to say about every single sparks of creativity which ignited in the room. she latches onto an idea here and there like a caterpillar clinging to a leaf - ready to devour and make use of the little food for when the time came for it. 

[tsxtoma]

advertising is how anything in the world could reach their moment of fame, a little gamble with the future (for if an advertisement were to fail then the money would flutter away from waiting fingertips) and so she makes note for herself. an internet idol is certainly lovely but even she would have to find a way to spread across the long webbed strings of the internet. 

but not today. a rough sketch of her campaign imprinted in her mind and through graphite upon the paper, she now does what most other students certainly planned to do. procrastinate, relieve herself for finally her exams were coming to an end and that meant some time to go outside and enjoy the last of her youth before it trickles away with all the homework and studying. 

her potential partner (the term victim may be better) for her little escapade is right in front of her. professor indeed but beyond that he comes to her as a brother figure first (to the point she forgets that first and foremost she should be calling him a professor) and so when the students start flooding out of the door ready to head to their next class or even home, fingers drum upon the desk a bit until there’s only enough left for her to count upon her fingers. 

seconds later she’s bouncing down the lecture hall stairs like a child walking delighted among flowers and sharply comes to a stop right in front of the male teaching her earlier. 

"toma onii-san!" the corner of her lips tug up to reveal bits of pearly teeth. "ne, you’re done teaching right? i remember you had no more things to do today…."

It was through occasional glances that he kept tabs on which students who had already left, so it didn't come as that big of a surprise when he turned around just in time to face Kotone. Had he been even remotely skittish her sudden appearance would've definitely startled him, but years of acquaintanceship was enough for Toma to know that she was unpredictable. 

Highly endearing -- but unpredictable all the same. 

"Oi", he reached out to flick the tip of her nose in harmless reprimand, "in this place I'm your professor -- I'm trying to be professional here." 

Regardless the corner of his lips were tugged into a subtle, yet smug, grin as he collected the last of his things and haphazardly stuffed them inside his bag. While the young woman was obviously stalling as she spoke, it wasn't hard at all to understand what she wanted to say. It's not like they hadn't done this countless times before, and no matter what he always had some time to spare for her. 

Now to decide whether or not he'd make her work for it.

"Yeah, this is my last class for the day," Toma replied with ease and slung one arm around her shoulders before glancing down at the profile of her face. He actually meant to go home and sleep a few hours before it was time to hit the club, but thankfully Kotone didn't know about his questionable sleeping habits. Instead he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, as in a one-armed hug, before releasing her again. "Sometimes I swear you know my schedule better than I do." 

As he was ready to leave he gestured for her to follow him out the door so that he could turn the lights off and lock behind them, officially done for today. Luckily he still had a week before he had to sit down and grade his public relations assignments, so he only found it fitting to use some of that free time on her. 

Admittedly they saw each other in class, but that was hardly the same as spending time together alone -- just the two of them. 

"Now spill it," he chuckled once they made their way down the hall, slowly advancing towards the exit. "What's on your mind?"

[boysofnippon-blog]

[tsxtoma]

* talking body

tsxkotone

"Alright, that's it for today." 

With those words he slammed the book in his hands shut and oh so nonchalantly threw it onto the desk behind him, fairly happy with the outcome of this class in particular. His students had been very vocal, which he always loved, and the discussions that arose shed light on some very important aspects of the current assignment. 

That, and he got a good idea of where everyone currently was in the process of creating their advertising campaign. Admittedly he'd have to set a fire under some people's asses to get them going, but overall the result made him content. 

"Remember the theme, but don't fall into the trap of making it repetitive -- familiar, but fresh, okay? Now, scram." 

While he literally shooed them out with a wave of his hand, the subtle grin on his face showed that it was all in good fun -- besides, it's not like his students weren't used to his small antics by now. Even so, he was going very easy on them. But they were a bunch of good kids in general, and he enjoyed teaching (alternatively bickering) with them. 

Perhaps he even provoked them on purpose from time to time.

The steady stream of exiting students had left the classroom close to empty, and while the handful of people still present gathered up their things and prepared to leave Toma turned his attention towards the generously cluttered whiteboard. Sometimes he had too much fun drawing the examples rather than explaining them, but none seemed to complain -- if anything, it made his lectures less monotone from time to time. 

Not that the word monotone even existed to said professor.

When the whiteboard was clean as could be he turned around to address the desk, not that there was much of a mess to address. He preferred to use his body as much as he could, so he rarely ever needed visual aids beyond that -- and books? Man, could they be boring sometimes.

[tsxtoma]

* random folk

[cacotheisms]

all storiestold and untold of great artists have been ones of the bent and broken—twistedand wretched—they say it’s the wicked ones that are exceptionally well versedin their craft; they’re the ones with artin their souls. wesley, however, finds it hardly believable that he would begifted with such a privilege. now, it’s not to say that the natural didn’t havea knack for art nor is it because of the fact that the fine art major was humble—wesley is, when it comes down toit, simply self-critical. any piece could have been done better and those who had been especially flawed hadn’t even gottenthe chance to see the light of day—trashed, merely, broken into unrecognizablepieces and disposed of.

[tsxtoma]

either they’renot good enough or these hands—these hands—aren’t capable of creating works of beauty.

—aren’t capable of art.

nevertheless, determination had always been a redeeming factor and wesley was more than willing to stay holed up in the university’s art studio for hours on end for the sake of perfecting an assignment. even he knew how high maintenance he is when it comes to his craft. the atelier is deserted anyhow, leaving wesley on his own in complete and utter comfortable silence.

but any sanctuary in this day and age cannot last for long—evident by the presence he can feel looming over lax shoulders; thankfully, male, given the weight of his steps on ceramic tiles. wesley doesn’t stop, to his credit, slightly hunched over the piece as he—tool in hand—fixates on the intricate patterns of the bust, brown orbs flicking up slightly to look at the faceless bust. clearly unfinished.

but if wesley was honest, he hasn’t got the slightest idea of where to even begin. “a muse.” he murmurs in response, paying no heed to the darkened botches of skin lining his knuckles—an act of violence driven by utter repulsion on his behalf. his first attempt had looked too much like someone he never wished to think of again. “are you lost? you don’t look like someone from this department.” he poses the question earnestly, careful not to step on any toes of the stranger casually sat beside him as he trades the tool for another handful of clay to press over the pattern he had worked on—lip curling in distaste.

perhaps today just wasn’t in his favor.

"A muse..." Toma parrots softly in thought as he crosses one leg over the other, admittedly not all too surprised. It was as cliche as they came, but at the same time he assumed it could be a fair assignment -- a very broad one, if anything. A muse, however, is quite tricky to pinpoint for those who doesn't necessarily have one, and that's the main reason he isn't as impressed with the teacher's ingenuity as he wanted to be.

Then again, few members of the staff agreed with his methods in return, so it was mutual.

"Do you have one?" the professor asked calmly, all while eyeing the bust, "a muse?"

He had met some artists who didn't, and while it had proved to be a curse more than anything, they still produced high quality pieces that sold for impressive prices. Regrettably their careers had been painstakingly short, but while it lasted they'd been amazing. 

Toma chuckled, maybe at the memories of despair, maybe at the question posed -- seemingly the latter if you didn't share his current thoughts. "I don't?" He inquired in amusement while his sweeping gaze picked up on the bruised knuckles and vague frustration that filled the air. It didn't take much to make a fairly accurate assumption of the male's predicament. "I must've let myself go, then." 

"You're right, though. I'm not lost, but this isn't my department." 

Not professionally, at least. 

An introduction was, however, less interesting than the subtle struggle in front of him -- and naturally Toma decided to focus on that instead. Why bother about the weather (philosophically speaking) when he could dig for something more substantial. That, and picking the brain of an artist had always been sort of his chosen way of passing time. "Have you tried sculpting blindfolded before?" 

The question was earnest and carried nothing but his genuine interest as he stood up, the flat of his palms resting against his lower back. A hint of a smile nestled its way into the corner of his lips as he glanced up at the young man before proceeding to observe the unfinished piece. "An acquaintance of mine -- born seeing, blind by accident, is one of the best sculptors I know. He told me that it wasn't until he had to feel the sculpture, as opposed to merely look at it, that he finally grew as an artist. By shifting his concentration down to his hands he didn't have to bother about a rivaling sense that did more bad than good." 

With a chair conveniently a step or two away he decided to reach for it and sit down, this time around able to see both the sculpture and the other's face -- which admittedly was much more to his liking.

"It's easy to get stuck -- sometimes all you need is a new perspective."  Or a new muse.

If only he hadn't been a student, otherwise Toma would've been far too ready to offer a completely different perspective. That's the downside of being a professor, he assumed -- the students were off limits.

Too bad.

[tsxchanjin-deactivated20150228]

( water & wine )

There’s a blank space inside his brain, and Chanjin does not like it. It itches—he’s not surprised. Even with all the (arguably half-assed) research done in the past, he still can’t find a conclusion. He’s a coward, he knows it more than anyone else; but being a coward because of this simple event is dreadful. So what, then? All of them have done it. An experiment.

It’s sad when you’re the guinea pig to your own experiment, though. Chanjin has done some pretty questionable things in the past to see how far he can go with that, this is no secret, but somehow facing a large mass of water makes him unsettled. It’s instinct. Maybe because he knows he can’t swim to save his life; or maybe because (thank god and damn him) there’s no sign of intelligent life roaming the pools at this hour. He’s not welcome there, but when you have this kind of abilities and mind you can’t abide to the rules anymore simply because they don’t work in the same universe as yours.

Chanjin has no idea of how long he has been there facing the crystalline liquid. But, in the end, he starts by inhaling profusely, as always. His fists are clenched and his muscles are tense—but he’s focused. So, following his universe rules, he can do it.

Some steps forward and he is closing his eyes in such forceful way it’s giving his brain a migraine. But the sensation is familiar now; tingling skin, numbness on limbs. When he reopens them, he’s standing on it—on the water. A loud squeal isn’t enough to show how surprised the male is at the moment. It feels so completely wrong and incredible at the same time. How could he not discovered this sooner—

Then the door opens. It all happens too fast. Chanjin turns back, only being able to briefly ratiocinate he’s screwed. After this, all he sees are bubbles and his lungs are getting heavier.

[tsxtoma]

Without water, his most trusted party trick would be for naught.

And for that reason alone he's far more tender towards the element that has granted him so much success, completely ignoring the heartbreak that follows. Because if he can be the center of attention each night, who cares about what the day has in store. Not Toma, that's for sure. He has learned that it's a compromise he had to make. Miserable by day, king of the entire universe by night.

Admittedly it's never enough, but he's had no choice but to stifle his greed.

Water, on the other hand, was always there -- always comforting in the way it threatened (or was it perhaps a promise?) to swallow him whole one day. Water was the seed of his sin, and would therefore pull it by its roots when the time came. Was that grim? To decide before hand how you wanted to die? Maybe. 

Toma had figured out how to work around the schedules and sneak into the pool when none was around, but the door only crept ajar enough for him to peak inside when he caught eye of something... someone... amazing. 

The corners of his lips immediately curved into a sharp smirk, something predatory coating his eyes for a brief second before the young man's sudden fall snapped him out of his initial trans. To this day he would never be all too sure why some people had him react in such an intense manner, but then again he mostly learned that he was always right -- almost always. 

That was far from interesting to delve deeper into, though, because it only took the professor a few seconds to understand that what had once descended wasn't ascending accordingly. Was it possible that the other couldn't swim? Oh, boy. Shame on him for finding joy in such a fact, as if storing it for future exploitation. 

But first -- it's high time for a valiant rescue, correct? 

While the natural walked towards the edge of the pool sturdy, yet not necessarily thick, vines crept out of the sleeves of his shirt and down into the pool to branch out until they created a fine, big net beneath the struggling individual. Once he was certain that it would hold, Toma had it rise enough for the other to merely rest above the surface of the water among small leaves and the occasional grape. 

"There, there," he cooed as if comforting a child, or more likely a distressed animal, before he crouched down to pull the net of vines towards the edge for an easy escape, all while reaching out to nipping off a ripe, dark grape with a raised brow and a smile laced with mischief, "grape?"

[vinicolaaurora]