you do this, you do

[nunchii]

ROOK

i.
[ most of the time, Rook is aware of where he is going and what random surface he is deciding to nap on. he has his favourite spots, out side of his hoard of pillows and blankets, and they are usually in presence of other demons, the few vampires he has decided he likes, or the bar in downtown Seoul that caters to those with magic in their blood.

this couch is in none of those places.

it smells like earth and dampness and moss first off.

second, there is way less magic in the air here and it's weird. well there is magic, a kind that Rook hasn't felt in a long while, and nothing like the static feeling of too many magical creatures in one area brings to his skin. this is... calmer. more unified.

still, he has no fucking clue where he is. not that it seems to bother him. the demon hums and sits up on the couch hair a mess and eyes half lidded, standing out if only because he is clad in just loose black pants and a whole lotta gold body jewellery.

what there are standards for demons of lust okay? sometimes he cares enough to hold himself to them. kinda.

his voice is rough when he speaks.]

Mm, where 'm I?



ii.
[ Rook doesn't need to stay. he can leave as easily as he came (but with more intention), can slide between the worlds and slink back to hell where he has whatever he needs to make eternity terrible for others. but--

and isn't there always a 'but'

he kinda likes it here. this place is weird, with the people and the place. the magic that is so different in them all but also strangely similar. how all these beings are under one roof in the swamp and have found things that so many spend their whole existences searching for.

how there is more love than lust here and well fuck, isn't that something.

so yeah, Rook could leave. Rook should leave. there isn't much for him to do here with his Cardinal. there are only so many strings for him to pull on (and yeah yeah yeah, a good demon would seduce and destroy, would ruin relationships and cause hurt but-- if you ask Rook he doesn't do that because he is lazy, not because he if soft). but he doesn't. he stays.

stays and starts bringing little pieces that he likes into the home. a pillow. a blanket. a set of dishes where none of them match but they are inlaid with precious stones so who cares. today's present is a bookshelf. complete with books. mostly in dead languages but hey, it's the thought that counts right?

Rook is in the middle of the living room (or what he thinks is the living room) hands on his hips and head cocked as he tries to figure out where the shelf would look best.

feel free to help him out.]

Ros

i.
[ the early morning, Ros has found, is the best time for him to practice much of anything in this place. sure he still goes to the underworld, still has his haunts and the shadows but--

he likes this place. these people. so he has taken to sticking around whenever he doesn't have a job that needs to be done. not because he thinks that they need protecting (they totally need protecting, almost more from themselves than from outsiders) but because he likes it here.

so early morning, when the sun is just thinking about getting up and most everyone is asleep, if not quiet, Ros can be found on the grounds outside with more than a few short blades in his hands and a concentrated look on his face.

ever since the war, ever science the adaptation of science and magic and everything, Ros has found that he cannot rely on his hound form as much, cannot rely on what he is, so he needs to adjust. needs to learn. and learn quickly (which considering he is a weapon isn't very hard at all). still, practice is necessary and, since he does not need much sleep, it is a nice way to just-- exist for a while. ]


ii.
[ if you happen to pass by the kitchen, you might notice one (1) rather confused looking hellhound who is staring at what appears to be a rather fancy looking espresso machine. the machine in question is sitting on the counter, in the middle of a hastily cleared spot, with a bag of actual coffee beans next to it while Ros leans against the table and just stares at it.

you see, he learned very early on that everyone here is quite fond of coffee (well, not all but--) so, being the being he is, Ros set out to find the best of the best. apparently this machine was supposed to be one of the best so long as you had the right beans (which he did make sure to grab) and followed the instructions (which he did not have at all). which is why he is looking confused.

because how the hell were you supposed to turn those beans into liquid coffee? the hound has no idea.]

Sage

i.
[ to say that Sage feels like shit would be a bit of an understatement. he isn't sure what is worse, death maybe? but he is certainly there. ever since the night where he made the fucking brilliant choice to let Minsu into his room (and subsequently kicked him out) the witch has been no where to be found within the confines of the house.

or even the immediate swamp.

Sage has, despite knowing better, been in the darkest parts of the swamp where the sun barely reaches and humans haven't been in fucking centuries (okay, maybe they have, but shhh) with no real point to it all but to just get out. be alone. away.

maybe to punish himself a little bit but, that is neither here nor there.

the magic in this part of the swamp is thicker, is heavier and seeps into his bones and makes it easy for him to forget about fucking humans and their brilliant smiles, or their soft mouths or--

(such a soft and fragile thing, the human heart is witchling. careful.)

Sage doesn't really forget anything, but he does manage to push more magic into the wards and finds a small patch of fungus that he can most certainly use in potions so not a total loss. still, when he trudges back into the house, covered in swamp and a little paler than usual, he isn't so sure that is a good win.

the witch leaves the ingredients he found on the kitchen table (along with a note stating not to eat them because he really doesn't want to deal with that, thanks Ten) then makes his way to the washroom to clean himself off and then to his room to get dressed. and if he comes out wearing sweatpants that belong to Ros for how huge the are and Minsu's shirt, well--- shut up.

he is then making his way back to the kitchen for coffee. because jesus fuck he needs that. ]



ii.
[ inhale. exhale. inhale. exhale-- you can do this!

Sage isn't usually a nervous person. not even a little. but-- standing outside Minsu's door with a basket full of fresh berries (that cost him more than he would like to admit but worth it) and a new frying pan, the witch is nearly shaking with nerves.

what if Minsu left? what if he hates him? what if he tries to smack him upside the head with the frying pan and just--

Sage knocks before his mind talks him out of this.]

... Minsu? You there?

Comments

[gunflowers]

[ More difficult. Yeah, Myung knows exactly what Ros means, here. Because he's had guns in his hands and he's had knives in his hands, and the damage they both left on Myung's soul is very different.

They've both left scars, though, stains on him that he'll never, ever be able to scrub off.

He looks serious as he thinks about this, knowing his face must look closed off, even if he doesn't necessarily want to avoid talking about it. If someone gets it, it's probably Ros, although Myung knows a lot of them in the house have seen their fair share of violences. ]

I want to hope that I won't ever have to - go there again. But I know it's a goddamn pipe dream. This place is safe, for now.

[ Myung is not an optimist. He still sleeps with his shoes on. He's certain that soon enough, they'll have to run away again. Still, he takes the next knife, aiming again. ]

For the record, you're actually very distracting even by doing nothing, Ros. I'd like you to know that for a fact.

[ But Myung always had good aim, and he picks things up quick, and the second knife goes in blade first. He's slightly off center, but it doesn't fall off to the ground. With a grin, he looks to the side at Ros. ] Do I get a reward?

[spott]

[ Ros knows better than most the price most pay for violence. he can see it on them, the way it weighs on their souls; especially when it is borne of a need to survive and not anything else. that kind of violence-- it isn't a stain, not like malicious violence is, but more like a scar. something has been torn open, marred, and Ros can see that on everyone in this house. wishes that he could have known them before if only to keep them from that pain.

violence for Ros is second nature. or maybe first nature, it does not bother him the way it bothers Myung. the hound goes quiet for a moment. takes in those words and the way Myung throws the knife. the weight behind everything. he wants to protect Myung, and while he has realized this before, right now--

right now it hits him so much harder.

instead of answering, Ros is stepping close and wrapping around the other easily, strong arms around Myung and the hound's face buried in his hair.]

This place will stay safe, I promise that. No one will touch this place ever, or they deal with me. [ something shakes in his voice there, something echoing the howls of a hound on the hunt. he means that. when he pulls back, there is a flicker of crimson in his eyes as he smiles. ] Now, what was that about rewards, darling?

[gunflowers]

[ The embrace is strong and gentle at the same time, and Myung breathes into it, letting himself lean back further still, letting himself grow heavy in Ros' arms, because he knows he can. There's something in the words - something dark and dangerous, and for the first since meeting him, Myung knows, right here and then, that this is what Ros means when he says he's terrifying.

He's not scared for himself. He's scared for anyone that could come in and try to break them down. It makes Myung's heart tumble in his chest, part relief and part fear and part wishing he could ask Ros to - not compromise himself, but it feels like a silly thing to ask of an underworld hellhound.

So instead his hands curl into Ros' arms, keeping him close for a moment as he lets the words sink in and lets himself believe them. ] Okay, [ He replies, voice soft and maybe a little awed. ] I trust you.

[ And he does. He smiles when Ros pulls back a little, raising an eyebrow as he rocks forward to press his lips against Ros' jaw. ] I don't know, you tell me. Do I get one? A reward? For being a quick study and a cute student?

[ Pushing it, here. ]