#para:patience

[obsxwonho-blog]

Chaos: A Trial in Patience

Wonho liked to think he was a patient being, understanding and careful in his interactions. This entire deal in the supernatural community recently had been trying, but he had been able to deal with it pretty well. Until now. Until THIS.

He stood in angry, annoyed silence in the middle of his room. Every surface, every single surface was covered in flyers about the so called “Chaos Controller”.  If there was one thing Wonho could not stand, it was his living space being messy. And this went beyond a mess. There were flyers coating the inside of his toilet, inside his fridge all of his food was wrapped in flyers, even his weapons were wrapped up like awfully disguised presents.

The only way this could have happened was magic. No one person could have done this by hand, especially as he had been asleep in the room as it happened. He could feel a presence at his door, someone just outside, and he knew it had to be them. Part of his mind urged caution, but the other part of him, the stronger part, was urging confrontation. And there would be confrontation.... as soon as he got these damn flyers off his sword, there would be confrontation!

.

..

....

The flyers weren’t coming off. No matter how he pulled at them, they stayed firmly in place around his sword and he let out a frustrated shriek while stalking towards the door. He couldn’t /cut/ them with the sword like this but he could sure as hell bludgeon them.

He flung open the door and stepped into the hallway.

[ivan-stclair-blog]

Patience | Gen & Ivan

Ivan sat on his couch with his phone in his hand. His cheeks and neck were ten times redder than usual, and his thoughts were ten times less clean than usual. Gen knew exactly what to say to drive him crazy, and he knew she was completely aware. Unfortunately that fact had only turned him on more. Finally he got a text saying she was at his door, and he took a few moments to himself, trying to calm down. His mind was busy trying to think of soccer plays, and trying to recall the final score of the World Cup final- anything to keep his mind off of Gen and how she would look in just his UChicago shirt. Smoothing his hands over the plain white t-shirt and jeans he had on, Ivan made his way to the door. "Hey," he said simply as he opened it, a big smile on his face. His voice, which he didn't have much control over, was an octave higher than usual, and he cursed himself for it. "That smells amazing," he said, moving to take the plate of lasagna from her hands.

[notsojust-blog]

patience gets us nowhere fast ;; indie & justus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains near Rio—its dying light set the landscape ablaze with a subtle glow. From atop its perch on the mountain, the massive statue of Jesus looked down on the city below, watching with mournful eyes as it began to sparkle to life in the dimming, evening light. This time of day was Justus’ favorite, even if it meant that unwanted things were more likely to happen to him—it was a prime time for gang violence, after all.

Usually, though, Justus watched the sun set from his posh flat, enjoying a few moments of quiet before dashing off to some party or whatever else his friends had planned—generally, there was always something planned, though he tended to avoid the more violent stuff (really, that wasn’t his style). Sometimes—or most of the time, at least since the Black Spades had started encroaching on their territory—the parties that they threw seemed to unravel into brawls or shootings, which was why Justus had been less than a regular guest at those parties, as of late.

Tonight, though, he’d decided to skip out on his friends (though he doubted that they were going to miss him) in favor of spending the time with some guy he’d met. He was cute, with heaps of brown hair that was falling into his eyes in a way that Justus found utterly delicious.

“So, am I ever going to get your real name?” he asked, looking over at ‘Amy’ with a not-so-subtle smirk on his face.

Sure, there was a certain air of mystery about it, them not knowing each others’ names, but it made Justus suspicious—product of being affiliated with a gang, he guessed. He couldn’t help but wonder what kinds of things this guy might be hiding, though just learning his name wasn’t going to suddenly reveal everything about him. But still, it was a start, right?

Absentmindedly, he started playing around with the football in his hands—it wasn’t technically his, but he’d found it, so it was almost his now. Well, since no one was going to take it, he figured that he could use it, for the time being. Really, he had no intentions of keeping it—not when he had his own, better ball at home. He tossed the ball into the air, catching it in his long fingers before throwing it up again, watching it instead of the boy next to him.

As they walked farther and farther from the city’s center, the crowds began to thin. Many people were finishing with the beaches and were heading back for a drink and something to eat—besides, it was the middle of winter and the beaches weren’t all that hot of a spot to be anyway.