I like observing people. I like looking at things.
Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out (via slytherinwritess)
giovannixrusso:
A festival. Perhaps Gio might have deemed it quaint or even a bit droll were the streets not positively littered with half-naked citizens. A tribute to Dionysus indeed. Unfortunately, he hadn’t come to partake in the exuberant festivities so much as he had to undertake some recon whilst senses fell prey to inebriation. “Silas, isn’t it? The owner of Knick Knack? Don’t worry, I’m not here to sell you something. Quite the opposite.” @silaskyun
Gently moving his mask upon his forehead, Silas gave the man a quizzical look as stated his name and purpose. It wasn’t odd that he had at least heard of him or the shop, but the lead into the conversation had the incubus put on edge. Though, he had to admit that the last few weeks had already placed him there— “Yeah? Then what exactly can I help you with?”
leightonhaywood:
Every so often he found himself in the small shop surrounded by things he definitely should not fill his London flat with at the expense of looking like a tourist. Shelves were already lined with trinkets from here or there. Sometimes it a souvenir wasn’t something that he could buy, a rock off the ground from a particularly beautiful mountain, a flower from the edge of a lush forest. Hell, Leighton had leaves pressed between pages with their name, location, and the date he’d found them, meticulously scrawled beside them. Everything was an attempt to capture the feeling of a moment in a place as he desperately sought to document the abundance of time on his hands.
Silas had made this more than just a place for tourists though. Local art pieces hung among the knick knacks, pieces of furniture finely crafted, a couple of oddities from the beaches here and there. “I’m trying to decide if I do indeed need another teapot or if I should just surrender and buy a proper cabinet to display them all in.” He took a sip of the tea in the thermos in his hand and nodded to the shelf. “The kittens might be too whimsical to pass up.”
Leighton had become something of a regular at Knick Knack and the pattern seemed to form in the blink of an eye. Sometimes the vampire would mosey in with general conviction, knowing exactly what he wanted as if the moment depended on it. Other times his shoulders looked slunk and caused Silas to wonder if the shop was just another way to pass the time. Not as if that was a horrible thing in the young cubi’s mind, the gods knew that was why he continued to do it. Trinkets, the little things, and all those varying purchases could be used as a way to connect and remember when time was the enemy. His own studio could be found with different objects littered about that helped keep his mind sharp and attached to the memories most important to Silas.
“You could finally accept my offer to build you one,” the cubi joked, but half hoped Leighton would actually say the word. He had several different concepts that he kept on the side, unable to control himself after the vampire had first mentioned it. Cabinets was almost a specialty at this point, having designed many during his time in Korea and felt a bit eager to craft another. Especially for someone like Leighton and the unique way he decorated his loft back home, “And take the whimsical kittens.”
lenavidalis:
Selling jewelry had never been Lena’s original intent when she started to make things as a child. It was a way to hone her metal manipulation abilities without drawing too much attention to herself, and making tiny, intricate pieces of jewelry served well as lessons in control. The keen edge of a sword was easy enough to accomplish, but focusing and moving metal in her hand to form thread-fine filigree required the utmost of skill. She and Silas came to a mutual agreement that she could sell a few pieces at his shop, and Lena was delighted by the prospect.
Throughout the past few weeks, she’d seen a decline in the man’s demeanor, dipping from his usual cheerful ease to someone weighed down by something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it most clearly manifested as exhaustion. She couldn’t help but worry about him, particularly when in his presence, and she very nearly asked about him instead of answering the question at hand. “I um… yes, that sounds really good,” she said, flashing him a brief, bright smile before her attention turned to the contents of her purse. She pulled a thick velvet bag from it and pulled at the drawstring, then carefully dumped a handful of rings and one necklace into her hand. “I think window light will be really good for them,” she added as she grabbed the pendant of the necklace, which was a piece of solid metal shaped into a paper crane. The crisp lines and perfect, flat planes caught the light even though she didn’t stand under a direct light, a testament to her ability. For a moment, silence lingered and Lena worried her lip, then finally heaved a heavy sigh and shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Are you okay? You seem. You’ve seemed different. Are you sure it’s okay I’m here right now? I can definitely come back.”
The usual excitement for doing business with a local artist was still there, even if the fatigue was present in some of his expressions and he did his best to shroud it in smiles. Lena was a regular around the shop, even without her pieces being present within, and the guilt of worrying anyone about his scale relations was not something the incubus really wished to discuss. Not that he was particularly ashamed of the whole ordeal taking him over, just that he desperately wanted to move on and not dwell too much on his past mishaps. It kept him from healing and Silas needed every bit of it he could muster up at this point. But the care in her voice and concern that hung onto her expression stopped him from ignoring the questions. He had been reminded that friends were important after keeping the curse’s stronghold away from even Gabriel’s knowledge and it was foolish to push people away that just wanted to help. Don’t run, embrace.
“Just been under the weather,” he stated, charcoal hues meeting the witches before looking back down at her handcrafted jewelry with admiration, “I had to close the shop up for about a week just to get some rest, but I’m starting to recover. The worst is over now. Just uh— just been needing a lot more sleep than I anticipated, but don’t worry. Having the shop open for a little while is helping get me back on a schedule.” So maybe keeping some things from Lena about the scale wasn’t all that bad, though he was being truthful about being unwell for a time. “No need to come back,” he added to give her verification and hopefully ease the worry of needing to leave, “I was rather looking forward to seeing and hearing about what you have been up to.”
giovannixrusso:
“Would you believe me if I said that’s precisely what I wanted to hear today?” He plays coy with the true reason behind his visit for only a moment longer before settling into natural charm, slightly disconcerted that the other man held a vastly greater allure without actually trying. “White, medium sized, and in an ornate metal holder. The wax has an intricate carving on one side. Does any of that sound familiar?” Fingers brushed at the crux of his neck, an uncharacteristic turmoil overtaking in that moment. As much as Giovanni intended to use Silas for his own knowledge, there came something rather striking about the other man and almost… trustworthy. The sensation struck him as both odd and comforting in the same breath. “If someone wished to pawn it, I thought you might be their first stop.”
Of course it sounded familiar, though Silas was having a hard time actually allowing those words to come out of his mouth. He hadn’t had the chance to really look into it, seeing as it had only been a few days of it being in his possession, and the idea of simply handing it over to Giovanni without a second thought seemed foolish. The incubus knew better than that. Trust was something that came later, with time, and the man that stood before him hadn’t been granted that level as far as Silas was concerned. Stalling, however, wasn’t exactly possible at this moment. What did the cubi care anyway? He had already had his fill of dabbling with cursed objects and the goal had to be who was going to be his highest bidder, “Yeah I’ve got a couple that might fit that description in the back— hadn’t gotten around to placing them out on display yet. Just let me bring them up.”
giovannixrusso:
Humanity came with a variety of weaknesses that supernatural beings intended to exploit, but it also provided what might be considered the greatest weapon of all: being mistakenly underestimated. What he lacked in witchy voodoo powers, he made up in precise intelligence, meticulous plotting, and his own brand of charm. “It most certainly has been. Hope you weren’t avoiding me after our little chat.” He did like the other man, for what it was worth. Call it an indescribable magnetism which drew Giovanni in, but he also had a job to be done. “I’m actually still curious about something. Has anyone come to show or sell you a candle lately? It wouldn’t be a mundane thing; kind of old and ostentatious.”
“I’m too much a creature of habit to avoid anyone,” which was mostly true when in places that felt comfortable enough to not consistently be ready to run. That was a quality that Corinth had provided, even with the recent displays of unrest and painful occurrences, Silas had yet to think that he was time to move. On top of it all, he had worked diligently to get the brick and mortar operation functioning in the bay. “A candle—” eyebrows furrowing slightly. It wasn’t often that anyone actually sold him a candle on purpose. Typically they were found in old dresser drawers that hadn’t been cleaned up, locked wooden boxes that hadn’t been touched in years, and the incubus’s onyx irises locked onto Giovanni, “Got a little more detail than that? Maybe color, even what it could have been accompanied with?”
Same set up, different event. That didn’t mean the thrill of it all wasn’t plastered on Silas’s face. He loved shifting between bodies in the crowd, snapping photographs or jotting down highlights of moments as the incubus observed others having the time of their lives. This was normal, keeping tabs on history as it happened before his eyes. Being present without being openly involved, the only way Silas really knew how to exist. Long before the change he did much of the same, weaving in and out of sight during times of war in order to document the terrors he was seeing. While this was more of a celebration, it was forever going to be a habit and the repetitiveness of it never bothered him. “Do you mind?” he asked sincerely as he approached a man sporting a devious grin, displaying his camera to see if he was alright with being photographed. It was better to ask then find himself getting scrutinized like some had tried in the past, “You just seem to really be enjoying yourself.”
@reapersoriano
leightonhaywood:
“The roommate would be the one to ask. She still won’t answer my texts after I last asked her about displaying everything. The moment she breaks, I’ll call you.” He was still being playful, but he was honest about it. He’d seen Silas’ craft, knew the man had an eye for detail. In a strange way, it was something he was almost jealous of. Studying, memorization, that kind of thing came easier to him than any kind of art. With all the time in the world, he’d tried putting his hands to good use to create something, but it was never anything particularly special. Mimicking a tutorial wasn’t really the same as designing and crafting something completely. Tilting his head slightly and leaning forward just enough to squint at some small figure on a shelf, he looked back to Silas. “Where do you find all of this anyways?” Every so often there was something that looked vaguely familiar, like something he’d seen in passing in a far off place that he couldn’t quite…Place for himself.
Silas allowed the topic to die, knowing the complications that came with being plunged into the supernatural world. Instead he focused on the following question— picking and choosing all the items featured in his shop. “Here and there,” the cubi started, looking around the shop a little just to re-familiarize himself with their found locations. Since the transition, Silas had little fear of what he might find behind closed doors and hidden crannies. This often meant rummaging in locations that were breaking down or sheds that hadn’t been cleaned in over a decade. His travels over the years had also helped. Each piece within the shop was not just from the Mediterranean area, but from areas in Germany, France, and some from back home in Korea. Though it did get a bit ridiculous at times when he would have to suddenly move, having to find storage for many of his pieces. “Estates, attics, large shops that are filled to the brim with antiques,” he continued with an air of wonder in his voice, “Some on the side of roads that I re-purposed for a better life. All have probably lived a really unique life that began long before I set eyes on it.”