infmoonglade-blog - Tumblr blog

[infmoonglade-blog]

hey guys sorry for disappearing i’ve been fighting an upper respiratory infection that turned into a really bad cold for exactly 1.5 weeks now and my semester started this past week also so when i’m not dying in lectures i’ve just been doing school work and then immediately sleeping the rest of the day. i owe a few replies so hopefully i’ll be able to get to it soon once my head clears up. i think i’m plotting with a few of you that hasn’t turned into a thread yet so please like this post to remind me to fly into your im’s. if we’re not plotting yet and you would like to, please like this post and we can get to plotting! thank you for your patience~

[infmoonglade-blog]

8:00pm. Shiba, Minato Ward. Don’t be too early but don’t be late either! Oh, and dress well!

Minhyun begs the Grim Reaper to take the souls of his deceased friends after he killed them today because they really warranted a death wish by tricking him into coming here.

He shoves his phone back into the pocket of his double-breasted long coat after checking the time—eight on the dot. As he enters the restaurant, Minhyun gives the sender of the text a knowing glare as soon as he spots him sitting on the middle table with seven other strangers already seated. Toshio even had the nerve to get up from his seat, forcing Minhyun to sit on one of the inner chairs instead of originally planning to shift Toshio on the inside so that Minhyun can take his seat on the edge of the table instead.

A gokon. Minhyun’s friends knew he never would have agreed to such an outing in the first place so of course they lied to him, thinking that it was just going to be a night out with the guys to destress from their academic responsibilities for once. Knowing his tendencies of always being early, Toshio managed to get him to be the last one to arrive to see the look of surprise and confusion on Minhyun’s face for a split-second before resuming his pokerface and pretending like everything was fine. But Minhyun was not interested in such gatherings with specific intentions, but his friends like to think that they know better.

Minhyun internally sighed in relief at not fucking up his introduction and hoped that he did not come off too disinterested. Everyone seemed fairly nice so far, especially the other Korean, who also came to Japan for his studies, sitting right next to him. Jonghyun was a smooth-talker and seemed like the type to easily get along with everyone, which was a complete opposite from himself. He was also of a slightly smaller stature and simplistic in fashion in comparison and it was kind of cute. He will never let Toshio find out about these thoughts.

The tips of his ears continued to burn with heat, red eventually covering its entirety, as the girls complimented him on his manners after distributing the empty plates on their side first before doing it for the rest of the guys on his side. Minhyun cannot handle his alcohol very well and planned to only have a few shots for the night and resorted to mostly downing water out of awkwardness. Oblivious to the glint in the eyes of the girls, quite a number of questions were thrown his way and in return, he asked a few questions here and there out of politeness. Minhyun could not help but listen in to what Jonghyun says whenever he speaks, curiosity trailing straight towards the male next to him instead of towards the females on the other side of the table.

Yamanote line? Minhyun nearly chokes on his glass of water at the sudden attention on him—Jonghyun’s attention on him. He can literally feel his ears burn as he thinks of a response.

“I’m interested in…” You. Minhyun’s locks gazes with the other male properly for the first time that night. “…Not many things.” He quickly shifts his gaze to Sarina. “How about tree species, Sarina-san?”

shiba, minato ward, tokyo @infmoonglade​

“we’ve arrived.”

jonghyun blinks his eyes open just as the taxi comes to a slow in front of his apartment, his belly and head heavy from the beer and meat and sleep. the driver looks back with one gloved hand on the wheel.

that’s right.

jonghyun fumbles through his wallet for exact change.

he’d been out tonight.

—

eight to a table. everyone’s operating on jitters and anxiety. the two pairs of hands he’d shaken at the beginning had clamped around his own smaller ones cold and clammy with sweat. now, seated at a long table in the center of the restaurant, he sees the girls on the other side fidgeting with their oshibori doing everything in their power to avoid eye contact.

he gets it. from what he gathers so far, everyone is high specs material and if anything, he and seiji-kun are the ones out of place for how severely underdressed they are. out of curiosity, he peers under the table, picking out the sheen of leather brogues and the reflective patina of a well-maintained ballet flat. his own trainers are two days away from a donation bin. so the stereotypes aren’t completely baseless—leave it to the keio and todai folks to dress to the tens.

after the beer reaches the table the guys opt for introductions. turns out there’s a second expatriate hiding among them and coincidentally occupying the seat next to the first expatriate. this second expat goes by the name of minhyun and fits the part of a classic nouveau-riche to a t: fair-skinned, dark-haired, broad-shouldered, and wearing a goddamn white cashmere turtleneck. this first expat can’t help but stare: straight through minhyun and into the restaurant kitchen beyond. mom, he thinks distantly. this is the stuff of tv soaps.

it takes two rounds of drinks and two fried appetizers to warm up. by then most everyone is flushed some shade of pink and content to talk about anything and everything that isn’t coursework. from the head of the table, sarina (was it forestry she studied?) suggests they play a game. “yamanote line, anyone?” she says.

jonghyun bristles. “mm… how about something like yamanote line?”

sarina bristles right on back. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well. i can only speak for myself here,” he trails off, gaze flitting lazily to minhyun next to him. “but i’m not exactly fluent in train station. gonna hafta pull the foreigner card here.” a few of the girls laugh. sarina folds her arms, mouth sealed tight. “it can follow the same rules as the yamanote game,” jonghyun continues. “we just pick a different topic—like car brands, names of philosophers. tree species.” he grins at his last suggestion. going off how ruffled she looks it seems he was right about her major after all. “why don’t you pick a topic, sarina-san?”

she shakes her head, clearly annoyed. “you do it.”

“tooooo much responsibility,” jonghyun croons, torso swaying. he turns suddenly to his right. “minhyun, wanna do us the honor? you’ve been so quiet all this time.” there’s time to kill and he might as well spend some of it picking at this guy’s brain. “i’m curious to know where your interests lie.”

[infmoonglade-blog]

space!au >>> @infpotionseller​

A restless sigh fills the humble studio. The male closes his eyes as he puts down the piece of equipment he had been fiddling and twinkling with for nearly five hours straight. Another sigh escapes his lips, tilting his head back slightly to the direction of the ceiling while pressing his back to the chair. Nothing was working out for him. The technician had his head in the clouds for the majority of the day, unable to focus for long periods of time as the weight of the significance behind today’s specific date creeps in the back of his mind and hangs heavy on his shoulders. He runs his fingers through his platinum blonde locks with frustration as the nth sigh fills the room once again. Cyrus decides to call it a night, knowing he would not be able to get anything else done in this condition, wraps himself with his white hooded cloak and locks up his studio.

His steps lead him to a familiar road, somewhere slightly further away from the center of the main city of Pandora, knowing that a certain spaceship will be appearing right on schedule. He would rather be there than drown himself in his thoughts at home where no one can save him from his own misery.

The ship is exactly where it should be and Cyrus enters with swift steps, beelining straight to a vacant stool at the bar. He is indifferent to the rest of the patrons and makes no eye contact as he settles himself before the table. He takes his hood off, solid white eyes piercing in contrast to the subdued lights of the establishment, and props his elbows up on the table, burying his face in his hands once again.

It is not like him to seek out a bar, of all places, as a coping mechanism for his inner turmoil. He cannot even handle a shot of alcohol in his system for the consequences were not worth potentially injuring his seven feet form when he passes out and endure a horrible headache as soon as he is able to open his eyes the next morning, but just the familiar atmosphere itself helps calm his emotions down way more than his own apartment.

A sigh escapes his lips and is too lost in his own thoughts to greet or even notice a friend on the other side of the bar giving him a knowing look.

[infmoonglade-blog]

The male gazes at the three different pieces of metal placed carefully on his desk. Three different pieces of metal from three different planets. And behind these metals lies three significantly different histories that have had major effects on the galaxy, including his very own planet—his home.

The technician carefully analyzes the first piece underneath a highly-advanced magnifying glass and studies the intricacies of each bolt, wire, and hardware. From the planet of Mellegnia, engineered by the Mallenia. Home to the thirteenth queen, home to the origins of the war. Coming from a destroyed planet, it is hard to come across any kind of material of its kind. Cyrus does not have much of a judgment on the Mallenia, pitying them more for having such corrupted leaders that led to the destruction of their home and of their race.

The second piece is from the planet of Vinci, created by the Vasari people. He is curious to figure out how such a highly technical piece of material had been created in a planet rich with natural resources, but with the war spanning to its fifteenth year—anything can happen. He has read about Vinci and the Vasari in passing and is aware that they had sided with the Mallenia, but likewise, he was quite indifferent to them.

And, the third piece hits close to home. Tulniotune. The TEC. The very people who attacked his people and had attempted to take over his home multiple times throughout the war. The very people who had murdered his father. Cyrus had been miserable for so long, and then furious. To the brink of wanting revenge and wanting the same faith on the TEC. The war raged on and it took him years to control his emotions and sought peace within himself. It is what his mother wanted, and it is what his father would have wanted too. Cyrus was not raised to keep such dark emotions in him, but to seek out the power of the light from the stars.

It took him years to get to this point and if someone told Cyrus years ago that a familiar TEC would show up in his doorsteps asking for his help in the future, past-Cyrus would laugh and never believe that such a thing could ever happen.

“Jaer? What—” Cyrus peers his head forward, peeking left and right for any bystanders and quickly pulls the other male into his apartment, behind the safety of the walls where no other Advent would be able to find out that a TEC is within the vicinity, and locking the door shut.

“What are you doing here? Do you know how dangerous it is for you to come to my apartment?” He can hear his heart pumping against his chest at the other male’s risky decisions. “What happened?”

@infmoonglade

jaer had decided from a very young age, ever since his first memory of peering across the cold noon-day thulniotune sky, the atmosphere crystalline white and frigid, ever since he could understand the concept of distance by millennial meters, the stretch and extend from which their sun roamed away from their planet, denying light and warmth and sympathy, that he would become his own solar entity, become his own sort of burning. a child inferno, a pillar of fire through the darkened shroud of space, through the ice-chilled antagonism of his people, of his race, of his galactic system; he’d resolved himself to ignite into fury and fire, blaze hotter than any star sentient beings had ever prayed to, outshine whatever little luminescence the worlds revolving around these apathetic deities reached for. he would be a conflagration; he would be his own sun.

except that suns generally tended to burn in place with very little discernible cascadence through space, and at the moment, jaer finds himself hurtling at wreckage speeds, bursting through the atmosphere of pandora in a hail of smoke and debris, his compact bitesize ship rocketing and shivering all around him, his knuckles white from gripping the steering, teeth clenched, lips in a snarl, golden eyes blazing forward.

right… so more like a falling meteor then.

at least this far away from most of the world’s population, the large city limits only a mile or two away, jaer has a decent chance of semi-landing the poor beast of metal and sewage in a less crowded area; less chance of being discovered, less chance of being suspicious. entry is rougher than jaer had anticipated, but he only manages to lose one or two wheels in the process, and the ensuing smoke and catastrophe of the event is small enough to keep him under any major radar, while also obvious enough to collect a stream of only two or three passing advent locals, of whom he relieves their garments, wall passes, and consciousness. he leaves them alive and dumped in a nearby trash-heap– someone somewhere will find them… eventually.

fortunately for him, the popular advent garb consists of long white, hooded cloaks, which makes passing through the barrier less of a trial than he’d worried it might be, so long as he keeps his head down, only raising his metallic gold eyes whenever he has to make a decision about which way to turn to bring him to the destination he knows he must acquire before nightfall, before operating hours falter and he’s shut out without a secondary strategy on hand.

“cyrus.” the word leaps from his tongue in a low baritone murmur, careful of the yawning world around them, all angles spiraling outward in increasingly claustrophobic barriers. the figure before him is something of a comfort, something of a distress, all modes and options frustratingly uncertain, but he keeps his voice strong and unhindered, impenetrable. “cyrus, i need your help.”

[infmoonglade-blog]

spiritedaway!au >>> @infgoldn​

As much as Kazumi liked the times of daylight, she thinks that she might like the times of moonlight just a teeny bit more. Don’t get her wrong, the hours when the sun is up fills her up with happiness and joy of being able to see the wonderful world around her. But the hours when the moon is up shows her a different kind of beauty of the world that can only be seen under the moonlight. It is also, for the most part, quiet around her aside from the whispers and small talk of the workers that call the bathhouse their homes. Kazumi is a bright host, loves to talk and be with people, but she swears the moon has powers because she feels a lot calmer and more sentimental. 

Tonight’s weather is perfect for a walk under the stars, the smell of nature invading her senses as the wind runs through the locks of her hair and softly blows her kimono behind her. She walked without a destination in mind, letting her feet lead her around the perimeters of the bathhouse; not too far, but not too close either. Kazumi kept her gaze above her head, mostly staring at the twinkling lights above her instead of her immediate surroundings. It wasn’t until she spots a figure in the nearby distance where she halts in her tracks. 

She sees the male in her sight with his entire body lying on the grass on top of the hill, staring at the sky above him. She recognizes the moonwatcher and immediately skips up the hill, swiftly and quietly to not disturb him. Kazumi is sure that he must have sensed her presence as she neared his spot, although, doesn’t seem to be startled or moving away as soon as she laid down next to him in a comfortable distance.

“Doesn’t the moon look extra beautiful tonight?” The question is but a mere whisper spoken for the wind to take it to its course, not minding whether or not it reaches the male’s ears.

[infmoonglade-blog]

spiritedaway!au >>> @infgodeater​

There was a skip in the sound of footsteps that invaded the second floor of the bathhouse—steps that did not belong but were always there more than sporadically during the day. There was a low, pleasant humming of a song that accompanied the light footsteps and reverberated throughout the corridor, bouncing from one rice paper wooden door to the next. Kazumi quickly stepped to the side to let a female coworker speed-walking to her designated room, while carrying a tray full of food. The other spared her a knowing glance and Kazumi responded with a quick, embarrassed smile before the other continued to her destination. 

It was a busy day at the bathhouse and the human host was for sure not needed on the second floor when there were more than enough guests and workers running from one end of the corridor to the other to keep the place active for the entire day. Kazumi was needed on the ground floor during what humans like her called rush hour (a lot of the spirits were still very lacking in understanding modern day phrases), until the swarm of guests eventually halted and have been situated in their respective floors. She was exhausted from the sudden wave of guests and decided to take a mere break inside the bathhouse that may or may not last for an extended period of time. 

Kazumi eavesdropped on conversations that was not meant for her to be heard but were still loud enough to be heard from behind the wooden door if she tried. There was not anything interesting to note, however, just the usual gossip and small-talk between the regulars and new guests with the workers of the bathhouse. Reaching the end of the corridor, Kazumi heard a grouchy male voice, slurring incoherent words together. She tiptoed forward and tried to decipher what this guest was trying to say. He seemed to be heavily intoxicated and from the lack of shadows on the rice paper walls, he was alone. After a bit of listening, he called out for a waitress. Kazumi looked around the corridor and frowned at the lack of workers on the floor, knowing that they all must already be inside with their guests. No one but her is aware of the situation so she straightened her posture and fixed the wrinkles on her kimono before knocking. 

“How may I help you, sir?” She slowly opened the door to find a man, but no guests of the bathhouse were an ordinary man. Kazumi immediately felt that something had gone wrong when the guest turned to look at her. The magic in air suddenly turned very threatening and quite frightening for the human host. She watched as the male started to shift into a different form. Perhaps his spirit form? She had absolutely no information on this man and what he really was, but she was taught that this was not a situation a human worker like her should be at. 

Kazumi did not know what went wrong. From the slurring of his words, she caught a who are you!, you are not her!, and where is she! There was something preventing her from opening the door, running, and screaming for help. Magic—the one thing she does not have compared to the rest. “I-I’m sorry, I just wanted to help”. But nothing she could say would appease the guest from his intoxicated wrath. She turned back to face the door and closed her eyes, not wanting to face the terrifying spirit, and tried her best to pry the door open with frantic fingers to escape.

[infmoonglade-blog]

...LOADING SPIRITED AWAY UNIVERSE

…LOADING CHARACTER FILE …ACCESSING CHARACTER DATA

FACECLAIM: miyawaki sakura CHARACTER NAME: kazumi PRONOUNS: she/her  AGE: twenty BEING: human OCCUPATION: host

BACKGROUND She doesn’t remember quite exactly how she ended up working as a host for Yubaba’s new bathhouse in Jeju Island, but she does remember her new name, Kazumi, and she remembers being lured into a bathhouse for whatever reason it may be near her hometown in Japan. 

The spirits and deities have taken a liking to her appearance and was appointed to be one of the faces of the new bathhouse in an island of South Korea, with the approval of Yubaba. Many guests mistaken her for a kitsune or a siren for being seductive and persuasive without having to try so hard. And, she really doesn’t try so hard at her job, to be honest.

Kazumi is a little mischievous and would rather play around than doing her job properly. She’s not exactly fearless, but more curious of all the beings she comes into counter with. For the most part, she gets along well with the rest of the crew despite not being a mythical being due to her kind and bright personality. She typically gets away with her work ethic because she is the face of the abode and all she has to do is exist and pledge her allegiance to the bathhouse and the spirits that dwell upon it. 

PERSONALITY (+) good-natured, bright, loyal, kind (-) a bit childish, gullible, impulsive

↪ READY TO PLAY?

[infmoonglade-blog]

...LOADING SPACE UNIVERSE

...LOADING CHARACTER FILE ...ACCESSING CHARACTER DATA

FACECLAIM: hwang minhyun CHARACTER NAME: cyrus PRONOUNS: he/him AGE: sixty-one (physically twenty-three) SPECIES: advent OCCUPATION: telescope technician

APPEARANCE Nearly 7.5 feet tall, white skin with slight blue hues, pure white eyes that glow in the night, platinum blonde hair that fades to white when he is reading the stars, no piercings, no tattoos, no scars.

BACKGROUND Cyrus had to bear witnessing such destruction, chaos, and death when the war began. The war costed him his father, a well-respected celestial psychic who looked to the stars and moon for answers, leaving him only a mother. She raised him with virtue and respect and correspondingly, Cyrus grew up with wit, compassion, and everything else she has taught him. There were many times in which they felt the absence of a male figure in the family, but they survived and pushed through the war in their home planet. 

Cyrus works as a telescope technician at the largest, most prestigious observatory in the middle of the city. He is not as gifted as his father at reading the stars, but his fingers easily play through technology. He is a quick-learner, however, and learns how to read the sky while he works, documenting his research and passing them over to the elders. He lives by himself in a humble abode near the observatory for convenience, while his mother lives on the other side of the city that has a much lower threat. The observatory, in comparison, is heavily guarded but definitely has a much higher threat due to its significance to his people. 

Cyrus’ position in the war is one of peace. Violence and bloodshed is the cause of the death of his father and many of, not only his people, but of the others in this fight. He read of Celeste’s ill intentions and the rumors of the Mallenia, but many are innocent and many have lost their lives and loved ones because of their corrupted leaders. When the TEC attacked his home, he was furious, but fifteen years later, it had worn down to exhaustion. His mother taught him that revenge is not the answer, and his father would have told him the same.

PERSONALITY (+) intelligent, compassionate, good-natured, resourceful, open-minded (-) self-contained, emotionally sensitive, worrywart, evasive

↪ READY TO PLAY?

[infmoonglade-blog]

hello everyone! my name is kim and player moonglade is twenty-three year old hwang minhyun who just recently became a marketing intern at j-one inc. i have a profile for minhyun here but he basically is the ideal son all the ahjummas wish their sons were more like but only because it had been ingrained into him since his first breath - it is all he knows. through the game, he is trying to find his real self. someone more than just the perfect son.

i’m not sure exactly what to say in an intro for an rp like this but my default fc’s are hwang minhyun and miyawaki sakura. i’ll be working on my ocb but i’m looking forward to interacting with everyone’s muses!

[infmoonglade-blog]

The sun watches what I do. But the moon knows all my secrets.

Unknown (via syntacked)

[infmoonglade-blog]

👑

[infmoonglade-blog]