#{{ ;; ‘ 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓾𝓮𝓭 ’ }}

[s-talking]

@chronicparagon || date night.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐌 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓, almost imperceptible click of a button. the heavy ornate exit door slowly drawing to a shut with a foreboding creak, just as a sinister smile spreads across the pale face of the serial killer currently standing by the control panel. his dark eyes almost gleam with cold satisfaction, looking straight at the young girl who is now trapped inside with him.

[s-talking]

@umbralrosa || date night.

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, & the once serene galleries have twisted themselves into an endless maze of shadows & looming masterpieces. an echo of quick footsteps continuously reverberating through their silent, dimly lit halls, with each step sounding like a staccato beat against the polished marble of the museum flooring. underneath the orange lamplight, a pair of figures are darting by the rows of gilded frames ── one whose breath is coming in ragged gasps & another in relentless pursuit ── their determination cutting through the stillness like an edge of knife. there's only so far she can go. after all, he is slowly catching up.... now only a few feet away.

[s-talking]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. *

favorite fruit(s) :   cherries.

favorite activity(ies) :   reading  poetry,  strolling  through  the  woods  on  rainy  days,  the  infamous   ‘  knife  game ‘   &  parkour.  he  also  likes  to  tend  to  the  flowers  in  the  garden...   even  though  most  of  them  have  withered  away.

favorite flower(s) :   wild  poppies,  white  roses  are  sentimental  however.

favorite season(s) :   autumn.

favorite insect(s) :    butterflies.

favorite animal(s) :    any  that  won’t  be  afraid  of  his  presence.

favorite gem(s) :  those  resembling  the  eyes  of  his  interest.  if  none  applicable,  then  shimmering  citrine  or  fire  opal.

favorite time of day :  late  afternoons,  just  before  the  sun  sets.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘:  @chronicparagon​  ( thank you kindly ♡ )

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆:    @spectralhunter | @b-erserk | @umbralrosa | @yuichiroswife  &  @i-cecapades | @dangaer  &  @truethes | @awesomeuchuu | @spookyooky | @qucintly | @tigermcth | @hhemeraa | @v-iciious  &  @b-elmount | @sansloii | @carnivorarium  &  @phantasmaw  | @diverse-hearts  &  @ever-winter | @kllsworn | @dancinghearts | @fallesto |  @shorestar  | @whispers-in-daydreams | @yesfxckyxu | @tenebris-artium | @deciessomnia | @lured-into-wonderland  | @shadyinfo | @shlnlgamls | @clarafell | @teniras  | @bymorpheus | @s-erpentes | @o--yasumi & @ofhardknoxxx​

[s-talking]

@tunichtgxt ( hunter ) || date night.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍, min-jun whole heartedly embraced his self-given name, murdering all those who were unfortune enough to crave for his superficial charm, but also those who didn't. the sin of envy is just that insatiable, vicious, & shallow, being probably the worst sin of them all for there is no end to it, no slowing down. not even as he jumps from the wooden staircase & almost catches hunter in the neck with a butterfly-knife, slamming black boots against the marble floor 'pon landing. so very senseless, so terribly, terribly hungry. envy chuckles with an eerie smile, completely ignoring the fact that hunter is actually pointing a gun at his head, ❝ ohh... my... my... ~ ❞ he purrs, ❝ you really know how to make a guy work for you... hm... ? ❞ resuming the nonchalant approach, envy draws closer in a most haunting way possible, with that smile, his knife ever so slowly rising back up. ❝ i.... like that.... ❞

[s-talking]

@whispers-in-daydreams || date night.

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘, but when he saw that man kissing scarlett on the cheek, envy just lost it. he ran down the hall with a knife raised up high & before either of them could possibly react, he stabbed the wretch right in the back ── once, twice... sixteen... maybe thirty times ── he never really paid any attention to how much. he just kept going. stabbing & stabbing, stabbing & stabbing, his mind not even registering when scarlett started screaming or yanked at his oversized jacket til the bloodstained tip of his knife collided with the marble surface somewhere below. ❝ hahh.... ❞ the vibrating impact made him recoil, only then glancing up with own handsome face splattered with blood, ❝ ah..... ahh..... ❞ & not even a slither of humanity to be seen. ❝ miss. scarlett.... is this the reason... you didn't answer my calls... ? ❞

[s-talking]

@tigermcth || date night.

❝ 𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐒 ~ !! ❞ 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐒, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐗-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓, ❝ my bad ~ ! ❞ slamming a boot against the podium, he yanks out the steel & continues to laugh with sheer mirth & delirium, his boyish voice booming across the decrypt hall of the closed art museum; ❝ HAHAHAHAHA!!! ❞ oh, how wonderful! envy never felt so... alive! inhaling deeply, the tar-black eyes jab into the boy who is already backing away, prompting the little killer to follow with equally slow steps, ❝ awe... what's wrong? ❞ he chuckles, ❝ didn't you miss me? ❞

[s-talking]

@fallesto || cont.

𝐒𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓 & 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘... good. it looks like he won't need to resort to any radical measures, seeing how much of a good boy the other actually is. perhaps they can just talk, see how their thoughts align. ❝ i'm glad.... it wasn't easy to get you here... ❞ sitting down at the edge of the bed, the wires creak beneath his weight. a darker shadow befalling doma as the young serial killer crosses a leg over the other & slowly, unzipping the over-sized jacket, withdraws a black butterfly-knife from within. it shines wickedly beneath the dim lamplight. ❝ my grandmother told me.... of you... & while i do not have much experience with demons of your caliber, she insisted that we talk. ❞ nonchalantly twirling the knife between his fingers, envy murmurs in a cold, detached tone; ❝ she thinks you & i... can strike a deal. ❞

[s-talking]

𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒, 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃, 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏, scattering dead petals in its path. the pale glow of orange lamplights outlines a dark figure of a man standing at the entrance, his black eyes scanning slowly across the room. at first glance, the man appears no older than twenty, with broad shoulders & unruly black hair, sporting an oversized jacket, torn jeans & worn-out biker boots which are also completely black, contrasting sharp & heavy against the pale contours of his elegant face. one which is also as bleak & expressionless as the very air of his being.

no words, no subtle glances. he walks into the room with both hands hidden in the long wide sleeves, leaving only those dark eyes to wonder before stopping by a long row of roses. ❝ . . . . . . . ❞ he reaches out gently, caressing one of the white buds with a black nailed finger.

The atmosphere had quieted in the flower shop. Earlier in the day it had been bustling, never an empty spot on the floor-- which Ava enjoyed to some degree as it kept him busy but he was just about pooped. This was to be expected with the holiday season and he was glad to be of whatever help he could be to the owners.

Leaning against the counter, he was just about to doze off, his thoughts swirling with various images...memories, ideas, impending dreams; it was that space right between the waking world and that of slumber. The jingle of the doorbell startled him back into reality and he sprung up from the counter, quickly wiping away any drool that had escaped his lips. "Welcome in!" Ava hoped that the customer hadn't noticed him scrambling. | @s-talking

[s-talking]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 fit the picture envy had formed of lee jeoh. perhaps he had underestimated him. for all the long years spent & wasted in new eden ── assessing & dissecting people as if they were mere butterflies ── the young serial killer for once stands before the other not as a judge, jury, or executioner, but as a man. a silent, genuine man who finally thinks not with the void in his chest, but what little yet remains of his wavering sanity.

❝ . . . . . . ❞

caressing the dry petals beneath a black nailed finger, envy counts twenty-four poppies, each personally picked & stuck on by the boy he almost killed. ohh, what a terrible shame that would be, he thinks, plucking a lone poppy from among many; humans are just so very... fragile... aren't they? rolling the dry flower by its stem, the little killer of mississippi smiles & sharpening his unfeeling eyes, tucks the poppy behind jeoh's ear. the pale hand brushing through the raven locks in admiration, almost reluctant to move away again.

[s-talking]

⊰ @chronicparagon ⊱

[s-talking]

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄, without moving, as if she's afraid that the whole world around her feet is going to fall apart. envy glances over, intrigued. he takes the page from her quivering hands & without as much as a simple smile nor thank you, begins to assess the broken slither of homura's shattered heart. ❝ . . . . . . . ❞ so this is it, he thinks; your silent confession... meant just for me.

trailing a lone black-nailed finger down the rows of boxes, the young serial killer takes a moment to memorize them all. the ones of ' loyalty ' & ' partnership ' catching his dark eyes the most, only to quickly drift back towards the young frightened girl. a ghost of a smile crossing his own lips ── a mimicry of genuity & ardor ── just as he offers the application back with a lone poppy flower trapped underneath.

           a silent confession... meant just for her.

[s-talking]

describe yourself in a few words.

⌘ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑. || ( not accepting. )

𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄, envy regards joah in silence, his pale face masked by the spirals of grey smoke. despite such laid-back demeanour, the young serial killer exudes a certain air of homme fatale, like those men in noir movies who will bewitch you with but a glance ── being both charming yet predatory ── as if you're basking in the presence of the devil. he who exhales slowly, watching joah with those dark, dark eyes. ❝ hnn... in a few words, ❞ he begins. ❝ i am but a stranger, capable of many things. i do not care for things like wealth or material possessions, but... ❞ moving the cigarette away, envy reaches over & dips a lone black nail into the boy's chest, ❝ this..... ? hoh... ~ this is very different. ❞ tapping right over his heart, the young serial killer smiles wickedly. ❝ i'd love to have that. ❞

[s-talking]

what scares you the most? && if it ever happened, how would you react?

⌘ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑. || ( not accepting. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐍, sprouting back to life at the most cruel of thoughts. he doesn't wish to answer such question, subconsciously tagging at own turtleneck sleeves in order to cover up a pair of slipknot-like bruisings. they are dark & heavy around his wrists, painting a rather grim tale of torture & captivity that must have lasted many years. perhaps far too many, judging how even a monster in making doesn't wish to disclose even a single word. ❝ . . . . . ❞

[s-talking]

{ What is something you care desperately about? Something that you just couldn't live without? }

⌘ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑. || ( not accepting. )

𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, envy's mind instantly wanders over to the image of his grandmother, however, just before anything is possibly said, the young serial killer pauses with lips slightly parted; what is something you care desperately about? something that you just couldn't live without? no matter how much he wishes to say it, something else keeps prodding at the back of his wicked mind, a thought, a singular notion that simply refuses to rest. what is it? what could it be.... ?

trying to focus while biting onto own thumb, envy becomes lost in a myriad of thoughts. they are pacing around wildly, just swirling & mixing together in a sea of violent clashes until one of them slips right through the parted lips, going completely unheard by the young serial killer himself;

❝ ... 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ❞

[s-talking]

𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃, for such is coded in their nature. to define the unknown, to decipher the indecipherable & rule the omnipotent ── or simply crush it beneath their heel. needless to say, the young man locked in the cell happens to be one such enigma, an ex-captain pilot of the royal army, now set on a death-row after his entire squad was found dead... or rather... what was left of them.

a whole myriad of gnarled corpses.

the training hall was completely littered by their bloodied bones & tattered flesh, looking like the 21st century's very own depiction of hell. the solider who has unfortunately stumbled on its scene has yet to recover from the horrific shock & paranoia, whimpering & screaming how min-jun was eating them all. pretty abhorrent, right... ? well, the young man in question was called many names since then, ranging from a monster, to traitor, to a madman, however, no matter what name or label was given, nobody could possibly explain as to how he actually done it. an ex-captain pilot, no older than thirty, somehow tearing apart an entire squad of trained soldiers with nothing more than his bare hands. the very people who were once deemed his family.

it's only natural that what cannot be understood must be tamed, & if it cannot be tamed, it must be killed. min-jun never blamed them for the death sentence, nor did he fear the day it comes as the whole concept always did elude the young man. as such, he waited... ever so slowly wilting away. by the time the heavy doors creaked open, he was far too weak to look or even stand, letting himself get lifted off the ground just like a broken marionette. is it my time, general, he wishes to ask, yet only a sigh escapes min-jun's soft lips, feeling how the fellow soldiers drag him out into a hallway, making min-jun's boots glide helplessly across the steel tiles.

he flinches as the heavy row of lights above, unable to focus as their sharp glow makes his dark eyes hurt. ❝ mnh... ❞

with a screech that pierced the air, an old metal jail door begrudgingly began to yield to the relentless force applied against it. rusted hinges groaned in protest, their shrieking echoed through the musty jail corridor. the door's surface, marred by years of neglect & the passage of time, revealed a patchwork of fading dust setting off into thin air; solid proof that what had been sealed inside had not seen daylight for a long time.

as the heavy iron door swung open with a resounding thud, two soldiers flooded into the cramped jail cell, their presence injected a surge of energy into stagnant air. their heavy footsteps, swift & purposeful, echoed through the dimly lit chamber, stirring what shadows clung to stained walls.

following closely behind was a veteran general who marched into the cell unafraid, his commandeering presence filled the space with an aura of authority. ❝ good, he's still breathing. pick him up. ❞ standing tall & sturdy, the lines etched upon his face spoke of a life spent within a myriad throes of battle. the soldiers wasted no time by approaching the prisoner cautiously, firearms primed, cold barrels silently pointing in case of any grief. they would attempt their best at picking him up, unless he had yet the strength to do so alone.

⸺ | 𝚌𝚘 - 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚝 : @s-talking

[s-talking]

What's usually on your shopping list?

What is in your pockets/bag/etc. right now?

⌘ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑. || ( not accepting. )

𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒 & 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘, like a cautious snake. he isn't the type to give away his secrets so easily, although since nunnally isn't the type to backstab either, the young serial killer obliges & slowly reaches into own over-sized jacket, one by one pulling out the previously hidden items; a silver flask, a red rosary, three flip-phones, a blood-stained wallet & a simple white cloth; quite the peculiar sort, aren't they?

now reaching into the inner part of the jacket, envy withdraws a butterfly-knife which he places near the other items on the table. it glistens wickedly beneath the lamplight, being as black as the darkness found within his eyes, however, envy doesn't proceed to explain as to what any of these actually mean. instead, he merely sits down & let's nunnally have a closer look, not even bothered by the fact she could very well reach for that knife.

❝ i don't really do shopping... ❞ he finally mutters, ❝ i just take what i want & when i want... miss. nunnally. ❞