#kadeu: plot drop

[cherrykadeu]

Saturday 17 April 2021. You have heard word there was an attack by the resistance on the armory in Club territory. Worried for your brother, you send someone to investigate and after they return you learn a bit more than you bargained for.

The young fox had followed her morning routine as usual. The soft sound of the singing birds coaxed her gently out of her deep sleep before any of the attendants rushed inside of her bedroom, small whispers wishing her a good morning falling from their lips.

Warm and scented water was enough to make Nari relax, the gentle conversation between the attendants made it difficult for her not to fall asleep again, but still the nerves made her want to keep her eyes open. Nothing changed as she prepared herself, long dark hair was now forming a bun, her lips were painted red as usual but allowing the rest of her face to shine with her natural glow. Her clothes were casual, a simple white set, long loose pants and an equally comfortable blouse that was kept together by a gold sash around her waist, all perfectly finished with her favorite jewelry.

There was not a single line on her face that was weighed down by surprise, her red painted lips tainted the golden brim of the cup as she calmly sipped on her tea. Nari could taste it, the rich hint of chocolate that touched her tongue, the light and pleasing floral finish as the tea slipped down her throat. She allowed herself to focus on all of those details for a moment, if only to distract her from the news that were now being delivered to her.

Nari knew that it was only a matter of time until the situation escalated, so she was not shocked by what had happened at The Armory, even if she had not exactly predicted it, it was still expected. However, she had been worried about her brother. There was no way she could forget the look on Geon’s face that day she encountered him in his territory, no way she could just shake off the feeling that something could have happened to him during the attack.

However, the news were worse than she had expected.

Her legs were crossed, her back straight and her gaze focused on the man she had hired and for the first time during the whole conversation she was surprised. Unfortunately, it had not been the good kind of surprise she had hoped for.

While you knew your brother was a guard at the armory, it’s now come to your attention that he was a member of the resistance. During the fight he was stationed on the ground and switched sides, attacking his fellow guards rather than the resistance vanguard.

It felt like her whole world had dropped at the words of the investigator, the cup being positioned back to its saucer on top of the small table, her elbow meeting the side of her chair as her fingers worked on massaging her temple. So, her brother had been lying to her all this time, risking his life for some unreachable future, for a loss cause, working for both sides and attacking those who had obviously put their trust in him.

Geon would be treated like a traitor, because he was one and there would be no resistance capable of protecting him. They were all just mere servants to a cause, dispensable, Nari was certain of it that if it came the day when he was no longer needed, they would get rid of him, just like they did with her friend, just like they did with Jung Anton.

Since then, your brother has disappeared. Unable to confirm his death, the investigator you sent tells you this is likely a good sign. It’s more than likely Geon has gone underground with the resistance.

“Geon, you fool” she murmured more to herself as she looked at the investigator, the man looking back at her probably expected to see a better reaction, a much happier one at least, but that was impossible to deliver, since Nari failed to understand how her own blood had decided to trust some group of strangers instead of her. His own sister.

Then a dreadful thought swirled around in her mind, made her stomach turn and transformed the delicious tea into some nauseating beverage. Just how many of them knew about what her brother had done? How many were dead and how many had survived to spread the word? How many would come for him?

Her eyes came back to watch the men’s figure, before suddenly standing up. Her heels clinked all the way to the large doors where she stopped, turned the key and locked them both inside.

A sigh left her lips when she caught sight of the nervous look the man was sending her, the way he twiched in his seat as she approached him once more, before grabbing his shoulders with both hands, never allowing him to slip away as she stood tall behind him.

“I can hear your heart beating, is it for me?” the question rolled out of her lips easily, her claws digging slightly into his shoulders when she felt him trying to move away. Forcing herself not to eat properly had many drawbacks and one of them was that basically everyone looked like a good meal, her instincts much more aware of what could be seen as prey and definitely a lot less selective.

A small giggle left her lips as she moved to be in front of the investigator again. Nari could see him sweating, almost paralyzed in fear and for a moment she almost regretted the way she was acting, but she forced herself to believe that this was for the well-being of her brother.

“No need to give me that look, it’s quite offensive” she scoffed, reaching for the pocket in her pants before showing him a gold key, the one that opened the doors she had locked to prevent his escape “I just want you to promise that this conversation will stay between us and that you will do anything to find my brother and bring him back to me”

After a series of fast nods and words of agreement the man rushed out of the room, with trembling legs and dropping the keys on the floor at least twice before he was finally able to open the doors and leave. But, not even then did she laugh. There had only been space for one idiot in the family and that idiot had never been Geon, she just hoped that he would not start being an idiot now.

[phoenixkadeu]

scandalous

Tuesday 05 January 2021. While walking through the halls of the Academy you overhear an interesting little rumor. It’s obvious the pair of giggling female Diamonds said it just loud enough to be overheard by you. Apparently, you’ve been sleeping with Professor Parker @lukef.

asra often thought of the academy as some kind of fortress, strong enough to endure even the worst of attacks and more importantly strong enough to hold the secrets created within those walls. unyielding like so many students and teachers, almost unbreakable, which could be seen as a good thing if that institution was as solid on the outside as it was on the inside.

the fire elementalist was no stranger to being the center of attention, even if most of the time it was for the wrong reasons, asra had learned how to take the prejudice in order to move forward, especially because most of his colleagues were smart enough not to say anything to his face. however, that was not the rule and unfortunately a lot of the students seemed to have a particular taste for gossip, clinging onto every word shared between groups, some of the rumors lasted only a few hours, other weeks or even months, only disappearing to make space for another far more juicier rumor.

asra was good at avoiding getting involved in any of those rumors, simply ignoring them whenever someone tried to feed him the next piece of gossip that had gotten the students all excited. nearly all rumors were not even worth his time, like that time when apparently two students had been caught by a teacher making out in one of the classrooms or how someone was not able to afford the most fashionable item opting for an obviously fake version of it.

annoying. was the only word asra had for it, other than time consuming. still none of that had affected him, until now. 

he could hear some students giggling as he made his way through the halls, choosing once again to ignore it as he saw his friend at the end of the corridor waiting for him to cross that distance.

but, his posture changed once the reason behind those laughs was revealed, making asra pause on his tracks and look at the two girls who were far too deep into their gossip session to notice that he had stopped to listen.

“asra with who?”

“professor parker”

asra stayed put for a bit, trying to understand what was really going on, a neutral expression was offered to his friend who was looking at him from across the corridor with a confused expression.

“are you sure?”

“yeah, you don’t sneak into someone’s house at night just for a friendly chat, I’m like 99% sure they’re fucking, why else would he be missing so many classes, uh? someone probably found out and send him home for a bit, I don’t blame him though, ryu really needs that extra credit”

“but professor parker is smart, or at least I think he would have chosen someone better”

“like you, sweetheart? I don’t know, maybe ryu is really good at…”

the rest of that sentence never came, asra being faster to intervene, contained anger present on his face as he looked down at the two girls, startling them when he asked “are you trying to start some shit with me or what?”

the shock did not last for very long, one of them almost losing the strength on her legs as she looked at the expression on asra’s face, bowing her head before she started to apologize, but unfortunately for her, asra was not in a good mood and her friend unlike her, seemed to like the chaos of the situation.

“ah, no, no need for that frown, we won’t tell anyone about your little secret” the little smirk she was giving asra told him that she meant to do the exact opposite and without even thinking one of his hands reached out to grab her jaw, a small yelp leaving the other girl’s lips.

“listen now, I’m not fucking anyone, so if I hear my name coming out of your mouth one more time, I’m sure I will have a good time seeing you try to speak with a burnt tongue”  

the warning had been given and with that he released the girl, hoping that this would be the last of it. it was unbelievable the rumors those minds could create, asra better warn luke about this, it was only fair since he was the only one who had decided to help him with his studies.

[sullivanspade]

A Literal Nightmare

The final glorious note of the performance resonated through the packed auditorium and Sullivan, along with everyone else in the audience, launched from their seats into a standing ovation. Many had tears in their eyes from the emotional ending scene as the applause grew deafening, but Sullivan’s sentiment was much deeper than the casual theater-enthusiast. As if on cue, the gorgeous raven-haired man taking his much-deserved bows centerstage, straightened up and looked directly at him. Sullivan’s heart leapt, thankfully kept firmly in place by the considerable knot in his throat. And, being the dramatic that he is, Sunny then raised his hand to his lips, placing a kiss there before theatrically blowing it in his direction.

Heart on the verge of imploding and any and all inner thoughts reduced to keyboard smash literacy, Sullivan stopped clapping only because he needed to verify that his cheeks weren’t actually on fire. It certainly felt like they were. He couldn’t hide his beaming smile though or the adoration that made his dark eyes sparkle. He felt so special in that moment. Adored and cherished and...loved, as Sunny took a moment to appreciate him when they were literally in a room packed with a vast range of Kadeu’s ranked, who were all applauding in appreciation of Sunny.

A strange but familiar buzzing started and gradually began to rival the cacophonous applause echoing in the room. Sullivan’s euphoria began to wear off as the feeling of hundreds of eyes penetrated his happiness. Suddenly, he remembered it was not just he and Sunny in the room. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from Yongsun and instantly regretted it. He’d never seen or felt so many people looking at him. The room felt like it was beginning to spin and from the corner of his eye, Sullivan’s horror increased when he realized Sunny was gesturing for him to come down...and join him on stage.

Sullivan couldn’t even shake his head in protest before he felt himself LEVITATING out of Sunny’s box. He gasped in horror, flailing helplessly before remembering that hundreds of people were now staring at him if they weren’t already before. He went absolutely rigid, silently cursing Ara for taking it upon herself to include him in this involuntary game of ‘light as a feather, stiff as a board.’

Descending helplessly toward the stage and into Sunny’s beckoning arms, Sullivan did his best to hide behind him as soon as he was placed on his feet. He smiled widely and laughed, seeming to misinterpret Sullivan’s discomfort as his usual coyness and dislike of overwhelming attention. The stage was Sunny’s home. A place where he felt comfortable, but it was certainly not the same for Sullivan. There were so many people looking at him. Too many people. He felt exposed, almost violated now that he was trapped centerstage under the scrutinizing gaze of the audience.

Barred by Yongsun’s impossibly strong arms, Sullivan began to look around at the audience members, both incredibly curious as to who was watching him and afraid to see what they thought. He recognized certain faces immediately, his trepidation mounting as he analyzed their expressions and somehow missed glaringly obvious clues that this scenario was the working of his inner fears.

The first person he noticed was Ara in the wings, smiling beautifully and giving him two enthusiastic thumbs up with unmistakable ‘you’re doing amazing, sweetie’ energy. Gaze traveling toward the front of the crowd, he spied Prospero and more notably, Eva, who was repeatedly yanking on the poor man’s arm and shouting ‘What’s happening?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!’ He realized belatedly that she was much younger than she should be. Eyes moving directly upwards, Sayge catching his attention.

She stood in her box, arms crossed over her chest and looked incredibly disinterested in the situation that was bordering on traumatic for Sullivan. She was unmoving except for her top hand, which was busily rolling a poker chip over and across her knuckles impressively. The lights on the stage brightened, making it increasingly harder to see, but there was no mistaking the figure beside her. Zuihuo Joui...the bloody Ace of Hearts...completely buck-ass nude, long luxurious black hair draped over his body with strategic Lady Godiva style.

Sullivan’s eyes narrowed as he continued to stare against the intensifying lights. Joui smirked impishly, clutching the journal he’d given him for his birthday as he furiously scribbled down onto paper whatever Sullivan might’ve gleaned from a more expressive expression. The deception left Sullivan distinctly annoyed but sensing from the Ace’s movement that a hair flip of scandalous proportion was underway, Sullivan rightfully averted his precious eyes.

Only to have them land in the box below, where Max was sitting on Bestram Beryl’s lap, his cheek bouncing repeatedly against her bosom as she enthusiastically clapped with her arm around his neck. At this point, the lights intensified to a blinding level. Sullivan let go of Sunny’s arm with one hand to try and block the light but it was no use. He was blind.

The light enveloped him completely, warming him from the inside out. The comfortable sensation starkly contrasted the confusing dream nightmare he’d escaped, so he tried not to question the timely rescue.

“Darling boy, you are ill-prepared for the dark times that await you.”

Sullivan can’t hear the sudden voice as much as he immediately understands the light’s intended message. The words and the light are warm, almost like this entity is smiling at him, but there is something else there too, underneath. Something jagged...wild...dangerous.

“I’ve seen your past. Though they were meddling where they had no right, it seems someone has tried to help you once already.”

Sullivan’s trepidation slowly begins to force its way into the sugar-coated scenario at the revelation that this being has ‘seen his past.’ At the mention of meddling and help he’d been given, Sullivan had an immediate influx of candidates as many, many people have offered him help, but there was only two who had aided him on a ‘magical’ level and only one had been unbidden.

“This is the last of the assistance you’ll get. Never say Shukra didn’t help you.”

Sullivan jolted awake, sitting upright in one fluid movement that pulled a mountain of blankets with him. Gradually he regained his bearings, realizing that despite waking up drenched in sweat and with a massive headache, he was in familiar surroundings. Cold morning light painted hazy squares on the floor of his study. The remnants of a fire smoldered in the hearth to his right, a sleeping Adonis at his left.

Relieved that he hadn’t woken him, Sullivan pulled off his saturated pajama top before returning to his rightful place in the crook of Sunny’s arm. He turned toward him this time, laying his cheek on Sunny’s bare chest, comforted by the warmth and the slow rise and fall of his breaths. The headache, nor the dream would leave him as he absently stared at the opposite wall. He spent much of his free time here, especially in the evenings. The room itself was a canvas for Sullivan’s studies. The walls were painted a deep charcoal gray and covered, at most times from floor to ceiling, with Sullivan’s sketches and scribbles. (I shouldn’t say that. Sullivan has never scribbled a day in his life.)

His eyes focus on one particular section of writing, one that he’d painstakingly transcribed from the grimoire the River Witch had given him. One that he was having a particularly difficult time deciphering to the point that he could translate it. One that now looked unequivocally clear from his vantage point.

Sullivan sat up abruptly, this time bumping Sunny in the process and stirring him from sleep. It was only a moment later when he clumsily scrambled over the chiseled torso in between him and the now legible wall. Sullivan put his palms alongside the text, kneeling as he stared in amazement. His eyes were wide as saucers as he looked around wildly, gasping in astonishment as one by one, the mysteries revealed themselves.

Finally, when the realization had sunken in good and well, Sullivan turned to his confused and concerned partner with all the uncontainable excitement and elation welling inside of him.

“I CAN READ!” he exclaimed, almost overcome with gratitude from this unforeseen ‘divine’ intervention.

Wednesday 11 November 2020; Midnight.

You are sleeping. The dream you’re having halts abruptly and you become aware you’re dreaming. A light appears at the edge of your vision, an impossibly bright, golden light. Even as you turn to look at it you see nothing but a light that feels both like it’s searing your eyes as well as gently warming your very soul.

It speaks to you without words, though you understand it all. “Darling boy, you are ill-prepared for the dark times that await you.” You are still blinded by the light, but you feel as though you’re being smiled at. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling the expression is somehow feral. “I’ve seen your past. Though they were meddling where they had no right, it seems someone has tried to help you once already.” The light reaches towards you until all you see, eyes closed or open, is searing golden light that penetrates your brain. As your consciousness fades you hear these departing words, “This is the last of the assistance you’ll get. Never say Shukra didn’t help you.”

You awaken abruptly, drenched in sweat with a blinding headache. Eventually, you realize something’s changed. Acting on instinct, you fetch the tome the River Witch gifted you. You can now read the ancient demonic language.

You have been blessed by Shukra, Guru of the demons, bestower of knowledge.

[kadeuyongsun]

[ november 2020. you have been cast as The King in the palace’s performance of Maleficent. your wife is played by budrelda beryl and Maleficent will be portrayed by moon ara. during every performance you will be in charge of some of the plays background aspects. though the director would normally a hire an academy trained earth elementalist for this task, he has decided to see what you can do. satisfied with your control during rehearsal, he will be holding you to a high standard when you are on stage. you get the feeling your control is being directly compared to moon ara’s control over air and if you succeed in all your showings, you may be given more opportunities to show off your powers. ]

     this may be one for the history books, frankly : not sunny using his abilities, no, but his admission that he’s nowhere near perfect at something. too much time spent perfecting his acting skills and not honing in on abilities that provide more of a service. sure, lying through his teeth can be an admirable skill ( depending on who you ask ), but his elementalist nature … that’s something that could be the difference between life and death. something that could save his ass, down the line.

          or … create an impeccable scene in a play.           regardless, he should’ve tried harder, much sooner.

     he’s been with his mentor for close to two years now. practicing and working what feels like nonstop. if he’s not rehearsing, then he’s with them. had he complained ? initially. the ache in his muscles was dreadful when they’d first started. a tiredness permeated through his being constantly, like a shockwave that never ended. ‘ the pain is good, ’ they’d told him. ‘ it means you’re actually trying. you’re actually LEARNING something now. ’ 

     those quips, those snide remarks, they would’ve elicited a reply from the young actor ; one full of rage, malice, words made of daggers dipped in poison. he would’ve gone for the other’s throat, harsh and unforgiving, yet something stopped him. every single time, those words lodged in his throat and he simply nodded in compliance. the fact of the matter is this, and this only : his mentor was right. if he wanted to make progress, he needed to work harder. TRY HARDER. harness whatever confidence he possessed and channel that energy into something that wasn’t pretending to be someone else. 

     upon receiving the news that his abilities would be put to the test, an unsettling feeling nestled within the actor’s very soul. he’s improved greatly over time, there’s no doubt about it, but he’d still be considered subpar next to anyone who had trained at the academy. YET, HE TOOK THE NEWS IN STRIDE. he had no other choice. a smile so bright and cheerful, with a promise of ‘ i won’t let you down ! ’, and he was out the door. he’d hardly given ara a glance upon his departure, a rare feat, indeed ; for once in his young life, he turned down an opportunity to annoy his friend. 

     in truth, he feared letting the other down. he watched her succeed and wow the crowd each and every time ; ethereal, beautiful, a semblance of perfection that he ADMIRED. he should’ve been envious of her. he should’ve felt jealous of her poise and control, but there was nothing in his heart but admiration. THIS WOMAN IS PRACTICALLY HIS SISTER ; in short, she’s his best friend, and always will be. when he looked to her, up to her ( on some nights, quite literally ), she was a reminder that he could not possibly be a failure. she gives him HOPE — for what, exactly, he cannot say. a large number of things and for that, he is grateful.

     perhaps that is what resulted in such a reaction from him. it wasn’t about impressing the crowd. it wasn’t about their ooh’s and aah’s, their applause, not this time. it was about showing he was something more. more than an actor, more than just a pretty face, more more more. if they enjoy it, then he’ll bow and smile pretty, just as he always does. and if he succeeds, then he’ll have proven something. not to them, no, but to himself. isn’t that what matters ?

     “ you’ve chosen a lifestyle, a career, that deeply relies on presenting with your best self. failure in this regard is not an option. no wonder you hold yourself to such a high standard. let’s hope you succeed in this, little one. ” the words of his mentor, faded and distant ; though, echoing in the forefront of his mind. filling him with a dreadful sense of unease. 

     stage - fright has never been an option, not since the very beginning. pre-show jitters were common, yes, but they had always been from excitement — not genuine nervousness. the feeling that graced him that first night was different ; sickening, almost. his whole body felt heavy, as if weights were placed upon his shoulders, strapped to his legs. pressing down upon his chest, making his breathing difficult. calming breaths would not subdue such a feeling and he figures, half-heartedly ( with a defeatist attitude, his mentor would say ), that he’ll simply have to suck it up and carry on. power through it. wipe sweaty palms upon trousers and push the hair from his eyes, shake out the stiffness in his arms, and try to put on a damn good show. 

     that first night, he fumbles. JUST SLIGHTLY, JUST A TAD, just short of perfection. but that small fumble, that little falter in ability, felt nearly soul-crushing. ‘ nobody is perfect, yourself even less so, don’t let it break you. don’t let it break you, don’t, don’t, DON’T. ’ discouragement is not applicable in this scenario. can failure truly not be an option ? ‘ their eyes are on you, yongsun, all of their fucking eyes are ON YOU. ’

     the second time that night, there are no mistakes. none that can be seen, not from a distance. no, the mistakes are all in the way his lip quivers, his hands shake, and his eyes nearly well with tears as he recalls his fuck up from hours before. it is not the end of the world, not by a long shot, but it sure as shit feels like it. 

     each night after that, he gets a little bit better. a little more confident. each show, he proves more to himself than any other. each show becomes his show ( in his own mind only, sure, but he cannot focus on much else. ) each night, a little bit more pride swells within his chest. PRIDE CONFIDENCE, AND EACH AND EVERY THING IN BETWEEN. it becomes less and less about them watching, and more about the young actor watching himself. witnessing his own success, his own abilities truly in action. outside of the lessons and sessions with his mentor, outside of the little things he does on his own, to prove that he REALLY CAN.

     it all comes to him easily, second nature, or -- or first nature, really. the nature he should’ve succumbed to from the beginning, upon his grandmother’s wishes. she never got the chance to see a show prior to this, she never got the chance to see her grandson truly happy in his element. it’s that one thought, on the fifth or sixth night, that makes him fumble again. just as things are becoming his definition of perfect, he fumbles one more time. JUST ONCE MORE. those tears that had threatened him the first night, welling in his eyes yet refusing to fall, have returned to him tenfold. shaky breaths escape his lips, and yet, he powers through. HE ALWAYS POWERS THROUGH until the end of the night, when he’s alone in his dressing room, and the palace seems oh - so - quiet, and he crumbles. with his face buried in his hands and his voice muffled, he speaks aloud to the empty room,

     “ i’m sorry, ” and to whom, exactly, is he speaking to ? his mentor, for failing them ? ara, for potentially letting her down ? his grandmother, for not heeding her warnings and taking her advice ? OR HIMSELF, for being oh - so short of PERFECT ?

     and once again, once more for the umpteenth time this week alone, he carries on. with stained cheeks, makeup mixing with tears into a disgusting mess he looks forward to wiping away. the frustrations are wiped away that evening, along with his tears, and he moves on. his outburst left behind, forgotten in that lonely room, when he takes the stage again the following day. and the day after that, after that, and after that -- and so on, of course.. there are no more fuck up’s, no more fumbles, NO MORE TEARS. 

     he’s been taught better than that. perfection takes practice, discipline, and there’s no use in getting stuck within your own head. he’s taken the first step towards the ledge into becoming something MORE, it’s time to muster up the courage and take the damn plunge. 

[kadeukarma]

Tuesday, 18 August 2020; Evening. 

Backstage at The Secret Room you overhear a conversation between a group of your burlesque dancers. Apparently one of the lowrankers that works at The Red Dragon has caught the eye of Ace of Hearts Clan Leader Zuihuo Joui. One of your male dancers claims he attended the Fae’s Birthday Ball and saw the woman there - a Six. This dancer is also a shifter and seems to think she smelled rather fox-like.

As the Ace of Hearts usually seeks companions from your establishment, this news has come with more than a few narrowed eyes among your workers.

Karma sat in the darkened secret room adjacent to her office, feet propped up on the desk; ankles crossed, of course. Back to the door, the desk faced a massive wall of what appeared to be small cupboards, each with accompanying engraved nameplate labels and antique brass horns that curved downward, mimicking the shape of a bell.

Never before had a woman sat in this seat; atop this throne of power, and while she might not technically be a woman, her vessel certainly was. This was her place now, as it had been for several years, and despite being quite frivolous and uncaring in the past, Karma had to admit she was quite proud of the life she’d made for herself and the little minxes that worked for her.

Every night, she seated herself at this very desk and diligently made observations. Again, many men before her had done the same, but the intent couldn’t have differed more drastically. A watchful eye was absolutely necessary for the protection of her employees and while the wall in front of her appeared overwhelming at first glance, it had been painstakingly organized. 

Planned in depth all the way back from the building’s initial inception, the labyrinthine design hidden behind simple plaster and embossed wallpaper must’ve been someone’s crowning achievement. With the use of light, mirrors, and just a bit of magic, she could literally see and hear anywhere in the massive complex, simply by opening a little door.

As tempting as that sort of power was, Karma did her best not to abuse it...but she IS a demon, you know so, if there are expectations not being met, it’s really nobody’s fault but your own. 

During her ‘rounds’ tonight, she stumbled upon an interesting conversation in the dressing room. She had just been about to telekinetically slam the door when she heard mention of the Ace’s birthday party she’d been unwilling to attend. It wasn’t that she wasn’t fond of Joui. She actually adored him, and all the pretty, shiny coins in his gigantic vault. But as unfortunate as it was, her patience with explaining, repeatedly, that she was not ‘on the menu’ at her place of employment was apparently much lower than it needed to be for her to exist in a social setting for more than five minutes.

She’d been content RSVP’ing with the assumption that she and Joui had an understanding as to why it was difficult for her to make an appearance, but the more she listened, the further her eyebrows knitted together in concern. Before she realized it, she’d swung her legs off the desk and crawled up onto it, on her hands and knees as she peered into the illuminated box on the wall. He was seeing someone at The Red Dragon?! Her stomach flipped at the thought of losing all the pretty, shiny coins that stayed behind after he left her doors.

With an exasperated huff, she slammed the cubby, plunging the room back into dim moonlight and crawled off the desk, tugged her form fitting dress back into place. This simply would not do. She was determined to see what all this apparent fuss was about. She would take a look at this girl, this fox, and decide her fate after that, but one thing was for certain: little boys who get caught being naughty have their toys taken away.

[nerenth]

Thursday 30 July 2020; 00:45. You chose to perform a ritual with the intention of binding the beast’s manacore to yourself!

You wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, your chest feeling as though it were aflame. Nothing you do works to diminish the sensation: it’s as though there’s a vice around your heart, crushing you from the inside.

The pain is unbearable as it travels up from your center and into your brain over the course of minutes. It’s excruciating, unlike anything you’ve endured before, until all of a sudden it isn’t. The pain is gone. There is a man in your room now.

At least, you think it’s a man. He’s swathed in a darkness so thick that it refuses to let you focus on anything other than his eyes. His emerald eyes. Hovering near your ceiling.

You get the feeling that if anyone walked into your room right now, they’d be unable to see him. He has no mouth but he speaks to you in a baratone that reverberates around your skull. “Foolish Human, what have you done?”

as big her ego was, sometimes she had to admit that not every single idea she had was a good one. and maybe, just maybe trying to bind a certain, unknown core to herself, just out of impulsive behavior was one of those bad decisions. the feelings of regret had started early on, just after going through with the process, but certainly were kept under control, as whatever she had tried to do, seemingly had failed. that was up until she woke up that night. 

a fever? no, it couldn’t be. aesin tossed and turned in her bed, the feeling of a hot summer night weighing down on her, just way, way worse. a reminder of those times when she had fallen sick as a child burning in the back of her head, just way worse. clutching at her chest, she let out a gasp as she stirred awake from nightmare after nightmare. a few strands of hair were sticking onto her sweaty forehead, her slender body curling up on the bed, blanket long gone, scrunched up somewhere to the side. 

something was wrong. horribly wrong. however, for a few minutes - which felt like an eternity - aesin didn’t dare to open her eyes. deep down, she knew. she had done something wrong and now she had to pay the price. most likely, she was going to die. after everything she had achieved, she was just going to die like this. the thought made her shoot up in her bed, back pressed against the headboard, goosebumps all over her skin. that’s when she saw it. 

her eyes were focused on the creature covered in thick darkness hovering above her. glowing eyes were staring back at her, into her soul and she knew this wasn’t an entity who had been welcomed by her into her place – a shift of energy, an unknown feeling of uncertainty. while she had learned to summon entities, enchanting buildings and being surrounded by helpful beings that obeyed her (most of the times), this one was none of them. “foolish human.”

aesin felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, her right hand still placed over it, trying to hold it inside of her. a bead of sweat ran down to her lips, the taste of salt bringing her out of her trance, blinking a few times to make out more features of the being. but there were none, just darkness and eyes. “what have i done?”, she whispered back, not exactly trying to get an answer out of the entity. she wasn’t sure about its intelligence or intentions, she just somehow felt that she was going to be stuck with this thing if she didn’t do anything soon. 

after all, she had absorbed the core - whatever core it was, and to her dismay, it definitely wasn’t a manacore. and there was no way she was going to fight this thing or try to argue around with it, especially not with it just hovering in her bedroom like that. “i’m not foolish.”, she said out to it, firmly. she could feel herself getting upset, at her own actions and at the sudden intrusion of her privacy. and god, was this thing’s voice a pain in her head. 

quickly, a hand reached out for her grimoire – the only thing she could do at this point. narcissa. narcissa was often on her mind, maybe too often, and she had always been since the moment she knew her. she remembered being upset that karma had just appeared, but in the end she had to acknowledge that this was her own fault, her own despair that had lured her in. not exactly the way she had originally planned to lure the woman in, but life had never really gone her way now, had it? and contract was contract. 

the ritualist lifted a finger at the creature, finally trying to communicate with it apart from trying to deflect her own stupidity. “i got a demon.”, she mentioned with menace in her tone. if this being stemmed from some corner of the underworld, then maybe it’d have some respect towards a demon. if not, then a demon still seemed more intimidating than herself. 

she hesitated, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of karma, but she felt like she had no other choice. fuck. with her hand on the grimoire, she mumbled out the incantation she knew the best, knowing that karma would most likely immediately know that this was some sort of emergency. “please come and save me...”, she whispered after, her words barely audible to even herself. with her eyes always glued on the dark entity, she made sure that it wasn’t going to suddenly lunge at her and try to kill her, but she had a feeling that that wasn’t going to be of benefit for it either. 

( @kadeukarma​ – feel free to make a new post for this or cut this post down however you feel fit! and grey, let us know if you want anything specific to happen! <3 )

[diabyeolical]

[ plot drop ]

Wednesday 09 September 2020; Night. A high fae walks into your bar. You notice him immediately, almost as though you are being drawn to him deliberately. He sits down, ordering a drink as he eyes you surreptitiously. The rank on his wrist says Eight but you know instinctively he outranks you in every way that matters to your species.

As you place his drink in front of him he asks in a calm voice, “Are you the son of Song?” You know immediately this is about your father.

Hanbyeol’s chin tilts upwards slightly as the man sits down, the hairs at the back of his neck rising. Something about this, he can tell, bodes poorly - and the minute the man speaks, he knows he’s been proven right. Usually Hanbyeol is very good at keeping his composure (little tends to surprise him these days with the state of this realm) but this time he reacts - his eyes narrow, and his nostrils flare, and he is instantly on edge.

“Who’s asking?” He asks sharply, his voice curt. No one mentions his parents’ names these days, and Hanbyeol is never sure if it’s a good thing or not. Now, he thinks he’s leaning towards the latter. “Or- perhaps this is a better question: Why would anyone need to know?”

@kadeunpc

[kdmarcus]

The Attacked | Plot Drop 01

Thursday 12 November 2020; Evening. You are working in the Triage Center when two Spade Citizens (ones) come in. Both have been badly beaten and are being helped inside by some Spade soldiers. The soldiers drop them off, saying they haven’t been able to make sense of their slurred words and have no idea what happened to them. 

Once you heal the human male enough for him to be able to speak clearly he tells you he and his partner were attacked in Club Territory. The attackers had assumed that, since they were Spades, they had water rations on them. They didn’t, but the attackers hadn’t believed them until they’d beaten them and searched the pair themselves.

Mark is being absorbed in an anatomical book when it happens.

Years and years in the Spade army have trained him to get used to almost all sorts of disturbance, and to deal with them properly. But, the emitter guesses, it would never be enough to get him desensitized to the pain of those who have to see themselves at Triage Center. With time, Marcus has learned to estimate the damage right from the sounds of their suffering. Most of the time, the more serious the wounds, the quieter the injured are likely to be.

 The two battered citizens in front of him would have been pretty much quiet – and they should have been – if the soldiers had figured that it’s nearly useless trying to get information from those busted lips, bleeding tongues, and missing teeth.

“Thank you all so much. And please,” his eyes momentarily move from the two injured to the soldiers who have just helped them in, “it would help a lot if we are a bit more gentle to these cases, especially humans, don’t you think?” The corners of his lips tug up a polite smile, then it waited until the soldiers left the center, when it softens down to a more comforting one as he looks back and kneels down beside the two injured.

 “You two will be alright soon. It would just be uncomfortable for a few moments, ‘kay?” He assures both the males, scanning their wounds while calculating the best ways possible to get them healed. Having treating injuries on humans for decades, Marcus is confident to take care of the human citizen. However, while his anatomical knowledge about strongarms can be deemed efficient, his manacore still needs more time to achieve the full capability of treating ones. He might try, but not without great risks of burning his mana veins to ash and leaving nasty scars on the poor citizen.

 Without another second of hesitation, the Emitter gets back on his feet to fetch a higher-rank fellow, who – thanks God – just a room away and is ready to help. He then darted back to the human, and immediately gets down to business. Silver magical threads come out after a light touch on his manacore, and the facial wounds are always privileged.  

His dainty wrists and fingers dance along the rhythm they have been well-acquainted with, up and down and right and left, some rotates here, some strokes there. Dislocated joints require calculated strength, while shattered bones demand meticulous patience. Internal injuries, however, need the patient’s corporation to be identified. “Let me know when it hurts, yes?” He asks the human male for permission, before gently pressing his fingers on the once-badly-bruised torso, while his eyes observe closely for the slightest of winces on the male’s face.

 As expected, their biggest problem lies around the belly area. The bruised stomach and liver left almost none of his manacore for the damaged gallbladder, yet Marcus took the challenge, and (thankfully) finished fixing the man before getting himself totally burnt-out. Wiping the heavy beads of sweats off his forehead with his own sleeve, the emitter looks up at now-entirely-healed human to ask the question those Spade soldiers have tried to get the answer in vain. “What happened to the two of you?”

 Marcus may be able to anticipate the reply, yet it can’t stop his eyebrows from knitting tight together in a rising abhorrence for the culprits. Although he has never wished to carry any sorts of negative feelings around, this situation deserves a stronger reaction than his usual composure.  But no, he isn’t going to dart out of the Center and hunt down the guilty attackers, for that should be done not by an emitter.

 Giving the human some private space to collect himself, Marcus goes to find Max, patiently waits until she’s got a few moments for him, then reports to her what he’s heard from the man. 

“Ma’am, we’ve just healed two Ones badly attacked at the Club Territory. One of them said it was because the attackers thought they’ve got water with them. I’m not sure if it’s worthy of attention, but I guess I should inform you about the issue.”

(feature @its-max-okay)

[kadeu]

UPCOMING WORLD UPDATE;

There will be a large world update on 23 July, 2021 that will bring sweeping changes to the city of Kadeu. In order to prepare for this event (without spoiling anything), we are strongly encouraging all members to complete their threads before the event is released! All threads dated before the event must be completed or summarized on the dash by 01 August 2021.

Additionally, there will be a Task released alongside the world update. This task will be required and must be completed by 01 August. Every member will receive a customized plot drop based on their task! There will be no activity checks until the task due date.

[cherrykadeu]

No good way to deal with this

Wednesday 5 August 2020; Evening. You’re at the Red Dragon. The woman whose purse you found is there and she’s complaining about its loss in the backroom as you and several other workers are preparing for the night ahead. You don’t speak to her but several others do and she confesses she lost a list of customers that she’d been overcharging. The extra money? She pocketed it of course, despite the fact that this is strictly against Red Dragon policy.

The heavy door was opened, the various sex workers who were in that far-too-small room seemed to all be focused on some kind of conversation rather than getting prepared for the long night ahead. Cherry removed her bag from her shoulder and placed it on one of the chairs, the conversation had slowed down, some of her colleagues even stopped talking to look at her. "What?" she replied, looking around as if she had not noticed the sudden silence that had been installed due to her presence, there were usually all kinds of conversations in that space, but no one ever had any problems with who was present, all the matters spoken between them never left those four walls no matter what. "I'm not leaving" she said to the group, then sat down in another chair, tying her long hair in a bun while rummaging in her purse to look for her cheap make-up, a chorus of laughter was heard next and in that moment she realized that everything was fine between her and the rest of the group. There should be no drama tonight, she thought, but oh god, how sadly mistaken she was. "No, the problem was not the purse!" the explanation for all that behavior finally appears in the form of an affected female voice. Cherry on the other side of the room worries about preparing her skin, her fingers massaging her soft skin spreading some moisturizer while she watches all the commotion by the dirty reflection of the mirror in front of her. “Then what was it? It's not like any of us have much money, whoever robbed you was probably disappointed with what they found” says another girl, her long legs dangling gently since she is sitting with a relaxed posture on top of one of the tables, the people around her laughing at their own misfortune as a way to agree with her. "Oh, shut up" says the first girl, turning around so that someone else could close the clasp on her dress. “Before any of you can judge me for it, you need to promise this will never get out of here” she points to no one in particular but instead to all of them, getting some eye rolls that were as reliable as the slight nod she received. “I have... you know, been overpricing certain customers” it was clear that she was a bit nervous and reluctant about revealing that information, that’s why she tried to explain herself afterwards. “I just really needed the money and I was stupid enough to keep a list with all their names” some gasped, that was obviously a risk only a select few were willing to take, others kept looking at her in a sympathetic way as if wishing they were brave enough to do the same, or maybe just because they had already done something similar, while Cherry on the other hand, tried to continue her routine without showing what she was really thinking. "Maybe this is for the best, whoever stole your purse probably has no interest in a list of unknown names" said someone else, but after that Cherry was no longer listening to anything, she could only think about that list she had put inside one of the drawers in her house and what the hell she was supposed to do with it now just made her think of how fucked up she was. I can't say I have the list, even if I say I found it by accident, no one will believe me. Besides, Cherry understood the other girl, nobody wanted to work on the The Red Dragon forever, she did not want to be the reason this girl lost everything.

The group started to disperse, none of them could afford to spend a lot of time on conversations and it was with this that Cherry forced herself to focus her mind on something else, although it was incredibly difficult to do so. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do, but one thing was for sure, she had to get rid of that list as soon as possible.

The following day, long before everyone else arrived for another long night of work, Cherry appeared on the The Red Dragon claiming that she had forgotten something very important in the backroom. After her access was granted, she put the list in one of the pockets of one of the jackets that she knew belonged to the girl who yesterday was talking about her stolen purse, and then she got out of there as quickly as she could but without lifting any suspicion.

She just hoped to have done the right thing.

[phoenixkadeu]

After your fights with the Clubs who came for your mother, you begin to feel your mana channels constrict. At first you think it’s just an effect from the amount of foes you faced and took down but then when the heightened emotions of the fight fall away, the pain that had felt like a small tingle within you now feels like a searing blaze, what fire elementalists imagine their victims to feel. You remember a lesson from the Academy on the functions of mana circuits and how overuse can cause them to become constricted, blocking the flow of mana. In best case scenarios, time and proper meditation alleviates the issue. But as your manacore is not fully developed, and the use of your mana was extensive, meditation alone will not recover the damage done. You are now without the use of your abilities. Your mana channels are locked and any activation of your abilities will bring you severe pain.

Asra was back, the news of his return had travelled fast, mouths quick to spread the word, brains already making their own assumptions about where he had gone to, why he had decided to disappear and what he had been doing during all of this time away.

None of it was answered by the man himself, the sole center of gossip amongst the various elementalist who shared the same corridors with him. No matter how annoyed he was by it all, the truth was he had a lot more things that were worth his concern than repeatedly trying to make someone believe that he was not dirtying the sheets of the duelling instructor.

It would all be over soon, he thought with a cigarette between his lips, hoped that everything would be back to how it was. And for a fleeting moment it almost felt like it had, when he heard his name being called in an enthusiastic tone, his head turning to look over his shoulder on instinct as he watched his two friends approach him.

They had all been called again, summoned by their superior to once again play safety guards to The Palace, something that Asra had always found foolish, he was never the one who would break fights he was the one that started them, but still here he was proudly presenting himself dressed in red, the shiny gold insignia of The Academy attached near his beating heart.

He turned his head back again to watch nothing more than the wall in front of him, the footsteps of the actors could be hear above them on the stage, every time there was a particularly loud round of applause or laughter Asra could hear it too, even though he had yet to care about discovering what the whole play was about and what exactly was so funny about it.

“Mate” he felt a slap to his shoulder, before looking at the man who had just sat on one of the beams, an unlit cigarette between his fingers before he asked “care to share a bit of that fire of yours?”

“Light it yourself, I’m not your servant” and the fire elementalist sounded as annoyed as he looked, which of course was no one else’s fault but his. He truly liked them, they were part of the small group of friends Asra had been able to make during his time at The Academy, they were more than used to him, his actions, the way he behaved, but unfortunately there would always be things none of them were willing to share, things that separated them.

“A bit moody today, yes?” the question was not worthy of any response, Asra simply followed the movements of the other man as he leaned forward, his cigarette now between his lips as the girl that had accompanied him down here, to the empty area below the large stage, extended a small flame lit on top of a match, “look” the man spoke, paused to take a long drag from his cigarette before continuing “I now that this type of work is not fun for any of us, but we were thinking that” and as Asra took his time to look over at the smiling girl, the offer came “maybe we could cause a little fight in a few minutes, the play is almost ending and we could just blame whoever we want, have a few laughs and then go home, just like we used to do”

“I pass” it was almost an instant reply, even though slightly out of character, which meant, of course, a few laughs coming from the unwanted company.

“Fuck, for real?” the earth elementalist stood up, looked pointedly at the other girl who just laughed along, before he was once again near Asra, near enough so that he could pull on the piercings attached to his ear cartilage, making a hiss leave Asra’s lips as his head followed the direction of the pull “did you finally learn something?”

“And what exactly do you think I’ve learned?” the look on Asra’s eyes was dangerous, threatening even in the low light that surrounded them, it was clear that this conversation had taken a direction which was on the verge of becoming unpleasant to all three involved.

But then again, no one knew, because Asra was not willing to tell. The desperation he felt ripping his chest apart as he saw the state his father had been in after the fight, the look on his mother’s eyes as they took her away from her family, the feeling of not being able to save them and then the pain he had to endure afterwards.

At first it had felt like nothing but a small tingle, until it all became much worse after he had arrived at his parents’ home and unfortunately he understood exactly what that pain meant.

Asra had never lost his powers, not once had he been able to fuck shit up so bad that his mana channels got blocked and yet somehow the kind of pain he experienced was not new. It unlocked some memories buried deep inside of him, had him screaming and sweating as he rolled around on the floor, tears falling down his cheeks as he remembered.

It felt like someone had cursed him back then and it felt like a curse to have that kind of power now. To be able to burn but to also be prone to being burnt right back.

Asra was not a small child anymore, but it had hurt just as much as it had back then when he found himself trapped in a room full of flames.

So what exactly had he learned from professor Parker’s lessons on meditation, what had he learned from Fallon when she explained to him her own way of meditating, what had he learned from his time away with other elementalists. Had he learned something? Had he learned enough?

He had his powers back, but the scars would always be there.

“How to become a stick-in-the-mud apparently” a small scoff of laughter was the last glimmer of happiness that would ever spark between the trio that evening, the words of encouragement for them to cause chaos died on his throat due to one simple mistake. His hand had reached out, aimed to grab Asra’s face in order to make him look at him, but the real problem was that now Asra was really looking, a firm grip on the other man’s wrist.

“Don’t fucking touch my face unless you are willing to learn the pain behind it” Asra released his wrist, before giving him a forceful push, enough to have the other stagger backwards, “now fuck off”

Fortunately the girl was fast enough to stop the other man from reaching Asra again. She knew that one punch from the earth elementalist would be enough to break more than a few bones on Asra’s face but she also knew something else, something a bit more concerning: Asra did not make threats, he was too impulsive for that, he acted on whatever he was thinking with complete disregard for its consequences and somehow this Asra that was standing here now, seemed a lot more scary than the one that had left Kadeu a month ago.

A sudden sound of applause and a round of cheers could be heard from below the stage, but Asra showed no intentions of moving even when the girl started to push the earth elementalist to the exit “the play has ended, we should go back to our positions before someone comes looking for us because we don’t want to cause any problems do we?” and that was the closest to an apology than any of them would get.

Asra heard his name being called again by the girl, the seething man no doubt beside her, it almost sounded like she was pleading for him to go back with them, but the fire elementalist stayed put, finishing up his cigarette while the other two simply left and moved on.

He knew he also needed to move on from his pain, but not today. Today was just another day like all others and if he could not move on he would simply force his way through. 

[sullivanspade]

Ignorance is Bliss

Sullivan thumbed through the aged tome once more, sharp eyes glazing over what had previously been integral illustrations, to favor words; snippets of enchantments, ingredients and directions, all of which he could now easily decipher.

“I can read...” he muttered again, half a smile lifting half his mouth as he recalled the now infamous statement. With the memory resurfacing in full, Sullivan didn’t fight the resulting sincere smile that soon graced his features. After voicing his half-asleep but fully sincere congratulations, it had taken Sunny hours to work up the nerve to ask Sullivan to elaborate on why exactly he’d been so excited about his ability to read earlier that morning. 

Yongsun knew he was an avid bibliophile, but it wasn’t until he had to sheepishly ask, that Sullivan realized how much vital information he’d omitted from his declaration in his excitement. The situation also solidified Sullivan’s undeniable and unwavering affection for the Diamond. Perhaps he’d been given a ‘gift’ by an intangible entity, but Kee Yongsun was the true blessing in his life.

With an affectionate glow about his features, Sullivan opened the grimoire cover and settled into his chair by the fireside. Instead of skipping around at random, attempting...struggling to piece bits of information together, he could now read the book and he planned to...cover to cover.

There he sat for hours upon hours, pouring over the brittle pages that had sprouted and grown out of a jar of dirt thrust upon him by a mysterious elderly woman earlier that year. At some point Yongsun brought him lunch, which Sullivan obediently ate with his eyes still glued to the pages. He read and read and learned. He learned many things; all of which he was grateful to understand, but honestly, there were things he had been happier before knowing.

By the time Yongsun returned from rehearsals much later that evening, Sullivan was hunkered over the kitchen table, head in his hands. Raven hair mussed from running his hands through it, practically wringing it countless times. There was no longer excitement and wonder on his features as there had been that morning. His expression was grave...burdened...tormented by the knowledge he had since attained. Yet despite that, he could not pull his eyes away.

Ignorance is bliss and there are several enormous revelations that Sullivan is no longer ignorant of.

You can now read the demonic tome gifted to you by the River Witch. As you make your way through it you find out new information about Demons; specifically: that they are beings comprised of Turin and that their contracts actually allow them to imbed some of their Turin within the contractee. Though this does not make contractees vessels (since the demonic consciousness is elsewhere) it does make them Turin batteries. You understand now that this is why when your demon uses his powers, you often feel weak or drained. You also learn this connection has the ability to kill you.

Near the middle of the tome you find a few diary entries dated over 2500 years ago. These entries speak of a coven of Turana Witches with the ability to wield both Turin and Mana. It is clear through the way she speaks of this accomplishment that it was something they did rather than powers they inherited that allowed them to wield the competing magiks.

The diary entry at the back of the grimoire makes one thing extraordinarily clear: The River Witch is responsible for the ranking curse plaguing the continent.

[kadeuyongsun]

* plot 001: you’re a star, babe.

[ Friday 14 August 2020; Evening. It’s been about a week since you started your performances as Adam during the evening productions of Beetlejuice at The Palace. After tonight’s performance you join the rest of the cast as they mingle with highrankers wishing to congratulate them on work well done. Your conversation and many others’ are interrupted by a commotion downstairs. It seems a handful of lowrankers have become rather unruly, demanding to be introduced to the cast. You notice a handful are pointing at you as well as at your co-star Lydia. It appears your fanclub has come to call. ]

   post-show euphoria, akin to the best drugs money could buy — it makes his hands shake with excitement and adrenaline, face numb from the smile at his lips. his eyes crinkle at the corners as he appears overwhelmed with absolute joy. THEY LOVED HIM. of course they loved him, it’s so hard not to. according to himself, anyway. 

   sentences and words blur and mingle together, congratulations and praise washing over him. making him feel warm. cheeks tinted a shade of red he couldn’t hide no matter how much stage make up he wore. it’s the same response every night, post-show, to the point where he wonders if he’s forgotten how to be genuine. the same words fall passed his lips, the ‘thank you’s, and ‘i appreciate you’s, and ‘i’m so glad you enjoyed the show’s. they all seem like canned responses now. pull a string on his back, and yongsun speaks the same three phrases. 

   the commotion nearly startles him, fingers intertwining with that of his co-star. out of instinct, almost. the touch of another person to keep him grounded, as he stands on his tip-toes to see what’s going on. OH, OF COURSE. you see, this isn’t the first time fans have become so ... impatient. however, it’s the first time they’ve yet to get the hint and go on their merry way. yongsun’s hand offers hers a squeeze and, locking eyes, it appears a plan has been set in motion. no words need be said. 

     HOW BAD COULD IT BE ?

   for a split second, he feels the weight of her head against his shoulder; so sweet, this girl. far too sweet for the life of show business, no ? gotta have a tough exterior to deal with critiques. 

   it takes the flash of his pretty smile and a short bow, to tear himself away from other highrankers, a sickeningly sweet promise of, ‘of course we’ll be back, we wouldn’t just leave you hear to mingle amongst yourselves !’ 

   with his lovely co-star in tow, yongsun finds himself descending the stairs. slowly, carefully — is he afraid they’d attack ? bite and tear at him, destroy him ? no, surely not. every fan deserves to meet their favorite star, do they not ? fans are what make the star. 

   maybe yongsun is only in the right, giving them the love and attention they deserve. WELL — maybe not deserve. but they sure as hell do crave it. and there’s nothing yongsun loves more than being desired among the masses.

[generalkwon]

Wednesday 19 August 2020. You receive an letter from a King of Diamonds demanding monetary reparations and an in-person apology from “whomsoever your female ‘personal healer’ is” for insulting his daughter. In this letter he insinuates this individual was insolent, undeserving of their rank, and likely only received that rank through sexual favors. Though the words are flowery, ripe with anecdotes, and littered with highranker bullshit, you understand the insults when you read them. 

@its-max-okay

There are two things that can spark cold anger in General Kwon Jihoon. One of them is the self possession highrankers swaddle themselves in as though their bank accounts prove their worth to the world; and the other is insults towards his people. This King of Diamonds had done both, quite rudely, and the recipient of the thinly veiled insults had been none other than Zhang Maxine. An unwise decision.

Called to his office shortly after Jihoon had received the letter, the Healer had given the General the real story. She had been walking back to Triage when she heard the distinct sounds of a mugging. Then, putting herself in danger, she had successfully stopped two young highrankers from continuing to brutally beat a Heart Academy student without drawing any blood. These actions, to the General (and he was sure, most sane people), were actions that were to be rewarded rather than reprimanded.

So, he did just that.

Guiding Maxine out of his office and into the mess hall where the majority of his faction was gathered, he made an announcement. Voice amplified easily by a subtle manipulation of grey mana, the General began, “I recognize that I am interrupting your meal, so I will keep this brief. Normally, there would be more ceremony to this but these are special circumstances. Today is special because today we reflect on the true meaning of courage, service, and selflessness, and honor a rare person who has embodied them.”

Here he gestures to Maxine, powering through before she even starts to think of butting in. “Many of you know the woman beside me: First Sergeant Zhang Maxine. If she hasn’t saved your life or healed your wounds at one point or another, she’s healed your brothers, your sisters in arms. Your family. Two days ago on the night of Monday the Seventeenth of August, she saved a young man’s life. A Heart’s life.” A pause.

“She stopped when she heard a cry of pain and she did something about it. She risked her own life, knowing she was facing not one but two Academy trained Elementalists, for the life of one man. Why?” Another pause, longer, his eyes roaming the mess hall with a fire alight behind them. “Because it was right. Because that is what it means to be a Spade. To protect those around you; to do what is right even if it hurts, even if it isn’t easy.”

There was a roar then, the soldiers in the mess hall grinning broadly, pride in their healer and pride in their faction vibrating through the very air. Mugs were banged, affirmations were shouted, and weapons were rattled at the General’s proclamation. After a moment he raised a hand, quieting the crowd before he continued, “Even more impressively she did this without any bloodshed. One life saved and none taken in the process. It is my honor and privilege as your General to stand before you today and, for exceptional valor, courage, and strength of character, raise First Sergeant Zhang Maxine to the rank of Sergeant Major: Queen of Spades.”

[lukef]

˚☽˚｡⋆. after all this time?

Plot Drop; Before 31 October 2020 the only tattoo the curse gave you was your rank tattoo. Now, you are marked with your faction and rank, as well as the symbol of the Academy Staff. How did these tattoos influence you? Do they make you want to work harder or do you rarely think about them? Do you find yourself looking for other Diamond’s tattoos to compare them to yours? What about the defector tattoos or the tattoos of other factions?

backdated to samhain ( october 31st ) and the following days/weeks

when the tattoos first appeared, luke didn’t even notice. he was sitting in his office, which was only lit by candles, and focussed on grading papers. the day had went absolutely normal, a few incidents occurred, but nothing that wasn’t solved in a few minutes. and still, it had been a usual workday - quite exhausting. he just wanted to go home. the sudden noise of a rising storm hadn’t really raised his interest. are some wind and water elementalists playing around..? he wondered, before going back to work. surprisingly, the storm passed as quick as it came - and now that the thought of other elementalists was wiped out of his brain, curiosity and skepticism came to the light. he focussed, creating a bulb of light in form of fire, held it up and searched through the room. everything had stayed the same. a look out of the window didn’t bring any new knowledge either. and as he looked down to check the floor, suspecting the work of demons, he noticed them. usually, he was a quite collected person. but finding a diamond beneath his rank, Q, and a symbol for.. what? made him let loose.

“what the fuck.”

he sild back with his chair, as if that would bring distance between him and his own arm, his eyes never leaving his now much more tattooed skin. “what’s next. sexuality so getting a hook-up is easier?” he muttered while trying not to set his desk on fire. luke threw a bit of paper in a container made out of glass, just to set it on fire. the new source of light allowed him to give the tattoos a second look. “what even is that second diamond thing for? species? whoever’s responsible for these could’ve put a description.” he touched the symbol with his fingertips, checking for any hints regarding the meaning. “this isn’t about my species.” he said after a few minutes, as if he was talking to someone else in the room. but he was alone, after all, meaning there was no one who could help him with his question.

it was his way home that brought enlightenment. the other tattoo wasn’t showing his species or sexuality, it showed his workplace. the students all carried the same tattoo, a more detailed one than he did. his guess was confirmed when he saw one of the academy councils tattoos. a strange feeling spread in his gut. while the storm didn’t bring much chaos and destruction to kadeu, the tattoos sure would. and that was a fact. 

luke didn’t catch himself checking for the other’s tattoos untilt wo weeks later. it was during a meeting that he got to look at an academy council’s tattoo for much longer. and he liked it. he felt as if it was way prettier and more fitting than his own tattoo. and while he never felt uncomfortable with his job or with being a student, the new tattoos brought a feeling that he never really felt before. he got insecure. and this time it wasn’t because he thought that he wouldn’t be able to control his powers correctly, that he wouldn’t succeed. it was because he felt as if he wasn’t doing his best. if he would work hard enough, he would carry the symbol of an ace, would be one of the most hardworking people in the diamond territory.

as he went home that day, he decided to take the long way through the city. after a while, he came across a small crowd, or rather a small group of people, who surrounded something or someone, laughing and pointing at whatever could be found in the middle. and when he saw who they were laughing at, anger started to boil inside of his chest. with his pulse rising, he lifted both of his hands. “listen, guys. i really don’t want to interrupt you. i mean, you’re obviously having fun. the thing is, if you don’t leave them alone in the matter of three seconds, i will burn every single one of you.” the people turned around, still laughing- until they saw the fire in his hands, realizing he was dead serious. after they left, luke reached out for the boy. “are you okay? do you need a healer?” he shook his head, taking luke’s hands and allowed him to pull him up. 

“the new tattoos show that you’re a defector..?” he asked, while checking for visible injuries. the young boy nodded. “this is literally.. i am so sorry.” he shrugged and shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll get used to it.” luke left only after the boy promised that he was fine and would get home safely.

it could’ve been worse, he told himself. you are an idiot, luke parker. your fate could’ve been so much worse.

[nerenth]

Friday 14 August 2020; Morning. On your way to your Atelier an ancient old woman runs into you, hard. You barely manage to catch yourself before you fall in the dirt and she didn’t even stop walking. Overcome by an uncharacteristic anger you have no control over, you find yourself following her - going in the opposite direction of your destination. No matter how fast you walk nor how much you shout she does not stop. Eventually you end up in the Joker where you watch her run into a skinny young man​ before darting into the crowd and disappearing without a trace. The young man yelps in surprise and seems thoroughly confused, desperately searching for the woman. You stop, blinking in astonishment as the rage melts away from you. Just who was that old bag woman?

–– part one. [solo]

it all happened too quicky for aesin to properly react. before she knew it, she was shoved against the wall of a nearby building, stumbling backwards and scratching up her custom-tailored silk coat in the process. an expression of pure shock was plastered across her face, eyes glued onto the figure who had just pushed her. a few seconds passed, the wheels in aesin’s brain finally turning, trying to understand what had just happened to her. with a glance at her elbow, she saw the beautifully embroidered pattern all messed up thanks to the rough wall it had just met – not that she was already angry at this happening, but seeing how this intricate man-made piece of art had been scratched up beyond repair. 

anger was boiling up within her, quickly finding herself following the old woman with wide steps. it somehow didn’t matter how quick she was going, the stranger seemed always the same distance ahead of her. ‘what the hell’, aesin thought, the rage within her just growing. the ritualist almost couldn’t believe it, but she just wanted to wrap her hand around this old hag’s throat and ask her what the fuck was wrong with her. though, that wouldn’t happen. at least not today. 

her lungs were burning, the sound of her soles hitting the ground and her heavy breathing filling her ears. she had to get to her. but how? she couldn’t seem to get closer. her surroundings were melting together, not really caring where she was going – there was only one destination. uncertainty and rage. aesin ran past buildings, people, shops, trying to catch up to her – places she usually wouldn’t even go if she had been more aware of her surroundings. 

finally, with a dull thud aesin watched the old hag run into a young man, then disappearing into the crowd. aesin had to crouch down, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath – the diamond really wasn’t too fond of working out. brows furrowed, she looked up, finally noticing she had made it all the way to the joker. she started feeling uneasy, it wasn’t her favorite place to be – it always seemed like conflict lingered in the air. astonished, aesin stood there, finally feeling better, only a hint of her rage left within her. 

while the rage had subsided, the thoughts about the old woman hadn’t. the incident stayed on her mind the entire day, popping up randomly as her eyes wandered over the sculpture that had been sitting in front of her – unfinished, still. with a sigh, she lowered her tools and stomped her way over to her desk, seeing her coat folded neatly on her chair. “guess i’ll need to see a tailor soon.”, she whispered to herself, a pinch of sadness in her voice. the entire incident only left her clueless, taking out a worn out agenda from a drawer.  

“was it him who did that stuff...”, the ritualist mused, turning page after page, looking for a certain name. the fellow diamond was known in her circles for being talented at digging up information on anyone and anything, aesin concluded that he might have a good chance at helping her. “hanbyeol.”, she finally whispered as her finger found his name, tapping the page. club v.