kenxmatsui

[kenxmatsui]

@xsureshxsoundsx

HARRY STYLES DON’T WORRY DARLING

#— isms. #ft. suresh sahni

[kenxmatsui]

"I see. I don't necessarily understand how that helps but if it seems to be working for you, then who am I to stop you. Though, I am curious now, who have you been directing all this to?" He likely could guess, given everything there were a handful of people anger could be directed at, and perhaps one that they both had in common, but he likely shouldn't speak on that. His eyes darted to the book again, knowing he could never attempt such a thing, his thoughts could barely be expressed in speech to put those words in writing, to have them stare back at him, it would highlight all the wrong about him, more than ever. "I take that means we share a similar sentiment on this matter?" he questioned focus switching to the sharp laugh. A jumbled head of thoughts had been a common point for their conversations, and current circumstances didn't look to changing that. "God no," came the immediate reply, "This town is a shit show. The people might be, some at least are. It a forever thing on my mind, taking those I care for and leaving this all to burn." This wasn't his home, he wasn't sure where was such a concept had never been experienced, at least not in the strictest sense, not as the four walls and a plot of land picture perfect image, that visual was shifting in structure though, but he couldn't dwell on that right now. "I have, yes. I met Rohan the morning after it happened." He left it at that, not wanting to, or allowing himself to weigh in on this matter, having a few in the coven he cared for, he could not remain impartial or unbiased on the matter. "Is that a strong contributor to your journalling?"

She shook her head, "No. I never kept a diary as a girl or anything beyond a well-organized planner. But I've been running off at the mouth as of late. Figured this," she taped the book with her pen, "was safer than lashing out more than I have." Not that she was ready to apologize, not even if she knew some part of her needed to, even if her feelings about most of it had not changed. She groaned in answer, a contemplative sound that said she understood. It was most of the same of where she had found her mind straying these days. It was easy to share those thoughts with Ken, perhaps because she could say the most awful things she felt, and she knew it would not sway him any other way against her. She felt peace in knowing the ugliest parts of herself were just parts when she spoke with Ken. She laughed a bitter, albeit agreeable thing void of all humor and momentarily dropped her head into her hands; pushing crimson locks away from her face,. She shrugged, "I worry how much more the town can give. How much fight or desire to save it any of us have." She chewed the inside of her cheek, "Do you think it's worth saving?" She did, it was home. Where her mother and step father had been laid to rest. Where most all the people she had ever loved were. But if it didn't have those things, if it was just a place? She didn't stray too far on the thought, "Have you heard the news- we will have a funeral. The trouble is I don't know whose or when."

#— convo; #c: briar reed #c: briar 005

[kenxmatsui]

"Well, congrats on that. I'm sure you finally feel right at home." His filters diminished as irritation rose, normally he had a good grip on it throwing barbed comments only when he deemed it necessary, which often was always, and this wasn't an exception. Especially not when the person she was implying was his friend. "You know, actually no it's evident that you didn't, so let me explain. By a lot going on, I did mean your hair and appearance, it doesn't do anything to make me believe that you don't live out here." Tutting at her explanation, Ken pulled a frown, "A shame then. I guess this means I'm actually in the good. Do tell me though, how do you spend your nights? Hunting poorly? I thought I had picked a quiet place to run, but guess that's not so simple around here."

"Well, I'm obviously not just out here to run like a creep," Ronnie muttered, the remark clearly pointed. She gritted her teeth, her fingers going to her hair to deftly pick out anything that might be caught in it. "I don't get lost out here anymore," she added because she'd been out in these woods for a bit, alright? She kind of had to learn her way around. "Yeah, sure, tons of shit going on. Didn't somebody make a dead guy not dead anymore? In, like, not a vampire way. That was wild, huh?" She rolled her eyes but couldn't help except to glance at him warily as he stepped closer. "I've heard it becomes serial if it's three or more, but, like, not at the same time," she said. "All three at once is pretty sus, bud. Hate to tell you that." And he was weird. And a prick.

#— convo; #c: ronnie bishop #c: ronnie 002 #( im so sorry about him )

[kenxmatsui]

Ken gave a noise of disapproval at the comment, "No, I know, because that would mean death. Do you think I'd let that happen? I'd kill them first before they got to you." He did not mean to get this intense about it, what started as something teasing nature should've been carried on with such lightness, yet, when topics like these rose about he couldn't help the unsavoury thoughts that rose. Casting such things aside with effort, Ken shook his head, hope that act would help speed up the process, "Lasting effects or not, you will hate the taste and likely having a coughing fit," he replied, easing back to lighter waters, "Do you want that? It won't be nice."

At the mention of Mason, eyes rolled on their own accord, "But you want to your schemes to be linked back to them? By all mean it would absolutely work, that idiot has the IQ of a acorn. I thought you to be at a higher calibre than them." When she spoke Poppy's name, Ken bristled exhaling a huff of air to sort of calm himself, which happened rather quickly, but only because Suresh seemed to make her list too. "Leave Poppy, she...well I don't want anything to with her, not while I'm still angry, this prank might escalate into something serious. But the other one though, we can't have that. Suresh can pay for whatever disrespectful thing he said."

Her antics managed to get a genuine laugh out of him, "Me? Mean? Never." Gaze only grew softer as she spoke, finding this all too adorable, he continued, "Come on, Tink, I still find you cute, even more when you're mischievous, that should be a compliment?" About to walk over and wrap his hands around her, hoping maybe wipe that pout away with a quick kiss, Ken paused at what continued with, any sort of lightness returning to him vanishing in a flash of irritation, not aimed at her but at the situation, and he ought to have left it, just ignored it and move on, but he had seen the state Rohan had been in, hurt and anguish swirling about the man, and her words so casually said had unexpectedly drained the happiness he began to feel not moments prior. "I see, in that case, don't bother." he replied, tone losing the softness, "I met Rohan this morning. I suppose in way this is good news for you too, don't have to worry with the petition of yours. I take it that he's thrilled to see you, then?"

"No, probably not? But, you never know," She gave Ken a small shrug at the thought. If there was one thing life had taught her over the years, it was to never say never and to not set too lofty of expectations, because when you never expected anything, you could never be disappointed. And while Leyla would prefer to never have to die, if it came down to regeneration or taking vampire blood, she knew she'd rather do the latter. Her memories were too important and the thought of forgetting her life now, of forgetting him, seemed like the worst thing that possible happen to her. "And oh really, why? I mean if it wouldn't cause any lasting side effects, why not?" She asked with a raised brow. A knowing smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"Mhm. I doubt it. Mason seems like the type to not miss out of April Fools and also the type to make it clear his prank was his, so chances are it could be linked to him out of anyone. But, that's besides the point and, no. It's not too much trouble. Though really?" Her eyes lit up as he agreed. "Look at me corrupting you. Okay, so- well, Poppy is top of the prank list for one thing. You know, for attacking me and all, and then there is Suresh for well..." She peaked up at him, trailing off as she realized why she would have to admit she had sworn revenge against him. "I can't tell you that. But, is was disrespectful and he must pay."

Only as the conversation shifted back to how her cuteness had no affect on him, her brows knitted. "You're so mean," She whimpered out. Her bottom lip beginning to quiver as she moved to wrap her arms around her chest. "Why would you say something like that? And here I thought you liked me. No, it's awful. I'm going to the beach house. You just took all the fun out of it," She whined, mumbling out a "You just said you were impervious to my cute, so why do you even care?", as she turned on her heels, making a poignant note to make it clear that she was going back to her old room at Dilan and Skye's place rather than home. "And here I was going to tell you about the good news for Todd and not so good news for Rohan I had just heard too. But, why even bother at this rate?"

#— convo; #c: leyla selvi #c: leyla 022

[kenxmatsui]

Her being startled didn't faze him in the slightest, he stood staring as she collected composure but whatever Amrita had stammered out was lost as Ken shot a look to the squirrel, who apparently was being rude? "Yeah yeah hi," he dismissed her greeting with a flick of his wrist, that quickly turned to a point at the squirrel, "What the fuck did that thing say to me?" he questioned, not hiding the scowl that formed or that look of utter disgust. Was it glaring at him? The fucking audacity. "Does it know I can snap its neck?" He was about to comment further, perhaps even act on it on it but snapped out of his irritation at the last second, turning to face her with a shrug, "Your brother could talk to ghosts, you talking to these little shits is not as weird as you think. It just runs in the family." Despite the scowl remaining on his face, Ken's annoyance did not build, hunting he wanted to say, a joke that surely would lighten his mood further, but there was no real benefit to lying here. "Just out for a run. Do you do this sort of thing often?"

While Amrita was supposed to be in a work shift, she had swiftly sent out a duplicate of herself for today's shift finding that the murmurings of the town's squirrels were far more interesting. "I see." She replied to the squirrels. "But still, isn't it a bit excessive?" With a swift motion, branches became untangled and began to grow stronger. "That should help, yeah? Just stay out of trouble." Amrita began to focus on the small animals that began making their way up the tree rapidly and let out a laugh that later morphed into a small yelp as she heard someone behind her. "What?" Branches stopped growing as she turned around quickly. The young witch touched her chest, right where her heart would be, in an attempt to calm down.

Standing up from her crouched position, she dusted her skirt and offered a small, nervous smile. "Oh! Hi! Hello. Um..." The squirrels walked on the new branches and stared at Ken. Amrita couldn't help but wave her arm around as if to tell them to be quiet. "You're being rude." She whispered to the squirrels who simply glared at him. "I'm sorry! I... didn't hear you. Um, I'm talking to them actually. Sorry, that's probably... weird..." Should she mention the weather? Would that help or would that further ruin this interaction? "Um... so... what brings you here?"

#— convo; #c: amrita singh #c: amrita 002 #animal violence tw

[kenxmatsui]

for: sebastien ( @ofbloodandsnow ) location: bad moon brewery

Not being able to go to his usual place for a drink, by both choice and circumstance, forced Ken in search of other establishments. While he would not step foot into wolf territory without a proper cause, nor will his go to drink ever be beer, Ken reasoned with himself that the other places would be worse off, at least here, he knew the owner. And Skye would be getting his opinion on this craft beer he had ordered -- took a sip and made a face -- whether the wolf appreciated comments or not. It was when he glanced up and noticed Sebastien sitting not too far off, distaste from the drink shifted to distaste at the sight. "Tell me," he said without a proper greeting, "How many knives are you carrying on you at this moment?"

#— convo; #c: sebastien de fortier #c: sebastien 002

[kenxmatsui]

for: safiye ( @moonglowmagic ) location: daily drip

His visits to the daily drip lasted on far longer than they had, choosing now to linger far after his coffee had gone cold was deliberate. There weren't many places Ken wished to be at the moment, he hardly had been the person to visit other places in town, having found his spots and comfort zones he stuck to them but ever since the attacks and the daily drip being vandalised, comfort dropped significantly causing him to be on high alert. Every person that entered was met with a hard stare, if that drove off customers, well, Leyla could come tell him off. Closing his laptop for a brief moment, Ken got up for another coffee, only to bump into someone causing a scowl on his face, "Are you blin--" Insult cut off before it fully fell through, a low hmmph sounded instead as he caught sight of the person, "Oh, it's you...You're lucky I didn't have a drink in hand."

#— convo; #c: safiye yildiz #c: safiye 001

[kenxmatsui]

“Come love, make me better than I was. Come teach me a kinder way to say my own name.”

- Andrea Gibson, from "Good Light," Lord of the Butterflies

#— isms. #ft. leyla selvi #( u ever see something and get so fckn emo?? )

[kenxmatsui]

He scoffed at the reply to his incomplete question but it didn't echo derision or scorn that would normally be tied to it, no this was a sound in agreement, a subtle nod accompanying to show that it was something he wished too. There had been moments where he had considered taking a potion just to feel that relief, to free his mind for a few hours from a bombardment of thoughts but would there be any peace to that? That would be him asking the world to allow him a few hours of respite, to lay his head without worry, without having to be on guard, he could not be so careless to want such a thing. Even then, even if by some miracle that could've been achieved, who was to say his mind would still afford the calmness? Ken certainly did not wish to revisit the nightmares that haunted him, it had been hard enough adjusting to the visions that played each time he blinked after the ordeal of dying, they lingered long after and continue still but it's easier in waking hours to cast them aside. To sleep would be willingly allow them to have free reign and he would not be so stupid again.

It had been the quiet sounds of pen on parchment he figured now that drew him over, and looking down at the drawings that Julian chose to display, Ken hummed low, "Not bad." Art had only ever been a thing of admiration, from a distance that too, he did not posses that talent nor he did try to expand his skill set into that field. Only when he glanced up and back at the man did Ken catch onto the tucked away expressions, behind the pitched up smiles there was a different story. This, observations and assessments on people and how they behaved was a skill that Ken cultivated and perfected through the years, picking on micro-expressions, be it a tick of lips or silent yet wide eyes of surprise, he had to in some respect be on the lookout for such things, his profession demanded one to be eagled-eyed if they wanted to succeed and Ken strove for perfection. He saw Julian's expressions, the crooked smile and words that deterred from the truth, and it was fine. Some things were not for strangers to talk on, not that he was a stranger to the man but Ken didn't know beyond a few things -- the baseline he maintained for anyone, and it really was hard to jump that fence to more than casual passers by. Noting his observations without further outward action, Ken tucked them away, perhaps it might come up in conversation, perhaps not, he could leave right now and be on his way, leave the other to draw on other pages that held his focus, it was fine either way. Glancing away and towards to the sky with its bright moon and twinkling stars, Ken blew the last puff of smoke upwards, clouding the serene view and polluting the crisp night air with the stench of cigarettes, why should things be so idyllic? "Doing the one thing I'm really good at," he answered, crushing the butt under his shoe, "Smoking."

At that comment, Ken did huff something akin to a laugh, recalling that night didn't need a lot of effort. His intentions to help did not stem from anything genuine, at least not for other, only with Rohan was he kind, perhaps Billie too but they had been on their own little hunt. But with Julian, immoral as he knew himself to be, it was exactly like said, he was stopping something downright stupid no one deserved such a fate. "I don't need to be thanked for that, had I walked away and not done anything Briar likely would have my head." It was a joke but he really wouldn't put it past her if Ken hadn't done something, "Or at least scream at me. Believe me, you deserved worse that night, think of it as a casual toss more than a punt, could've been worse. For that you're welcome." Memories of that night still sparked irritation in him, and that only increased in the aftermath, light illuminating the damage caused both physical and hidden, he walked on glass after that moment, ready to snap at anyone and anything. Emotion that he controlled now when he felt thoughts shifting to Leyla, he had not been there and ... Ken lit another cigarette, "I chain smoke," he spoke, not really needing to explain but it was something to fill the silence, "Does that bother you?" He likely wouldn't care if it did, but that would give more reason to walk away. "If I thought you were in my way I would've made the clear at the beginning but no, this is not my bench. Is it yours?" Lungs filling with smoke calmed him a little, nicotine was an addiction now if only it had a lasting effect. "Do you normally come out in the middle of the night to draw lighthouses?"

He had dreaded this day ever since last year. A year was a long time, and yet it appeared to have come and gone in the blink of an eye. As Julian saw the date on his kitchen calendar, marked with a red circle around it, a strange feeling fell over him. Memories of lights and loud music, of hundreds of bodies swarming a dance floor and moving to the beat, and there he stood at the edge of the dance floor, in a fuchsia polo sweater and jeans, laughing as he plopped chip after chip in his mouth. It was all so innocent in retrospect, absolutely nothing to hint at what was to come. And then all at once, it changed. When he thought hard enough on the memory, Julian suddenly could feel the sensation of his throat closing up, the burning clawing from within to take a deep gasp of air only to realize it wasn’t possible. The horrifying panic as you realized the air was being cut from your lungs and slowly thereafter the rest of your body started shutting down. He had to slap himself a number of times to shake off the memory, to come out of a trance and remind himself that wasn’t happening now. That was a long time ago. And he had survived it, and moved past it. That’s what he said, and how he acted. On the outside, he seemed perfectly okay, but the truth… Even in his every day life, smiling and laughing with friends, or enthusiastically leading paint and sip nights, even wrapped up in the affectionate embrace of his sweet, beautiful Rose… He still felt like he was back there, laying on that dance floor and slowly decaying. Decomposing, forever.

The scritch scratch of his pen against textured paper had been his companion in that late hour. He had detangled himself from a sleepy Briar some time ago, leaving a post it note saying he’d gone to find a bite to eat (“Sorry Thumper” scrawled in the margin) and that he would be back by morning with a chocolate croissant and her go-to coffee order. And he would, he was a man of his word and the last he wanted was for Briar-Rose to suspect him of anything but being perfectly fine. Because he was. He was alive, wasn’t he? The longer he sat there, brushing line after line against the sketchbook, the more he thought he could just disappear into the moment, and maybe just spend the rest of the dreaded day alone. Briar might worry if you’re not there like you promised, she might ask questions. He didn’t need that. There was another woman who worried about him constantly, and tried so often to ask him questions but he evaded every one. And it was from pure memory, one that he feared was fading, that he was able to capture her likeness on the page. Julian paused his movements as he brushed in her wavy dark hair, the kind he inherited from her, and he felt a thickening in his throat. No, it’s okay, you can breathe. Just breathe. He sniffled and let out a staggering breath as a response to the thought, staring down at the warm visage of his mother on paper. The mother who tried to call him, almost every day, even if he ignored practically every one. The few he answered he kept brief, uncomfortably short. Hadn’t Ralph cautioned that it would be hard but necessary to let go? Why couldn’t he just let go? He stared at the other faces on the paper — his stoic eldest brother, then the middle Chandler boy with his easy going smirk, and finally his proud father. How long was it now since he last talked to Russell Chandler, really tried to have a conversation with him? God, must have been years. Would he get the chance to do it right, before it was too late? Was he losing time? He could hear the ticking of the clock, on how much time he had to approach the remnants of his human life, but how much longer did he have? Was he holding the last fistful of sand in the hourglass before it fully trickled away? His throat constricted at the thoughts. Breathe, Jules, just breathe.

He decided then it would be best to turn the page, to focus on something else, so he slowly flipped through unfinished pages, trying to find something to focus on, the edge of his vision blurring as he flipped through sketches of scenery, of people and their dogs in the park, of figures going about their normal every day lives in Lunar Cove, of the Green Hornet and its eccentric owner, of his best friend who was finally living her life more freely, of the woman who captured his heart and soul, and held them in the palm of her hand whether she knew it or not. Vibrant vignettes of the world around him that breathed and lived and was so, so, so wonderful and beautiful. And he was a staggering corpse, rotting his way through it. He paused, on a page with sketches pertaining to some of those happy, idyllic childhood memories he fixated on during late nights like this. Smiling younger Julian in a Mets hat, a shocking and pleasantly grinning Conrad Chandler beside him, drawn off a picture taped to the inside of his guitar case back home. Scribbled over, because he couldn’t take the sight of it. The vein in his jaw jumped. Why’d it have to be him? Why was he the sacrificial lamb, herded to slaughter without really knowing it was coming, not until barely the last moment. Why, why, why — the question he forbade himself from asking in the year since came to the forefront of his mind as he looked at a stapled photograph of a young Julian seated at a piano with his mother beside him, and a half finished drawing of it beside it on the page. A cherry red ‘X’ was scrawled boldly over his own face.

Julian was pulled from the thoughts when he heard the approach of another. He knew he was there before Ken came into the moonlight, having heard the scuff of his shoes upon the ground. Flipping to another, less intimate, page of sketches, Julian brushed a hand over his face to be sure it was not wet, frowning at himself when his fingers came back with the remnants of tears upon them, and quickly cleared his face before the other came fully into view. “I wish,” he said to the unfinished comment. He thought he had heard they could choose to sleep, but Julian didn’t want to. He knew what horrific memories awaited in the recess of his mind if he were to close his eyes, and he didn’t want to focus on that. He was sunshine, and warmth, and all things positive. He wouldn’t let this get him down. He couldn’t. Not when others around him were breaking, not when he was already useless enough. He shook the thoughts away as he looked up from the sketchbook to Ken. At his question, Julian waved the book and pen in the air. “The only thing I’m half good at,” he joked with a crooked smile, resuming an unfinished drawing of the lighthouse on its crag in the ocean. “What are you doing — looking to stop other idiot young vampires from making stupid, life altering decisions?” He winced at the memory he referenced, that hellish night and the moment he thought he wanted a taste of forbidden fruit. He rubbed at the back of his neck, where Ken had grabbed him and flung him aside. “Did I ever thank you for that, because, well… I really am grateful, you know. Not so much for the punting me aside, but for, well… you know…” He trailed off, quiet and uncomfortable as he stared at his stilled pen against the paper. “Am I, like… on your bench or something?” He asked after a moment, wishing to brush past the awkwardness of recounting that terrible encounter.

#— convo; #c: julian chandler #c: julian 002 #smoking tw #( just gonna use all the smoking gifs don't mind me lol )

[kenxmatsui]

for: @julianrchandlerx location: park

Sandwiched between the subtle fragrances of the Sakura trees that bloomed over head, and the rich, dark earth underfoot, it wasn't lost on Ken that this was shaping up to being a pattern. A scene not so dissimilar to this occurred last year around the same time too, only thing that struck different was swap of alcohol to cigarettes, both were destructive so really, did it matter which poison he chose? Thoughts that plagued him too, an echo of those of the past; birth, death, family -- a trifecta of fuckery. Ken would laugh if he had found this situation funny. Things always hit, he noticed, after the moment's passed, once back into a safe orbit outside the event taking place, gravity eased its grip and allowed for surroundings and feelings to register, as if living in the present took up too much energy everything else was delayed till later. And later, caught up fast.

Ken had forgotten about the day, of course he had, it held of no interest now or ever, a wasted space in his memory (something that he was silently thankful for) but of course it couldn't be cast out, no, that would be too easy. Such things lingered, had to be forcefully remembered despite his best efforts. The day arrived with cake and a bright smile and he mirrored it with a less enthusiastic one but thanked her nonetheless. She had made last year one of the best, and her still being around was enough to fill him with ease. An end goal made it easier to bear -- end of day -- and he made it without heaviness clinging to him. The weight came later, growing in size as the days blended into each other, till it demanded to be felt. He had died yet here he was. That alone took his head for another spin. He didn't die when he ought to have and this... this was borrowed time, a second chance and a curse all in one. Letting out a sharp mirthless huff of a laugh, he paced the treeline, kicking a small stone about to have something extra to do, this life gained after death he hadn't quite yet figured out how to live.

Petals fell onto him softly and he brushed them off with an undeserved quickness, casting them onto the ground only to end up crushed underfoot, and wished he could do the same for his thoughts. Instead he took a drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before releasing in a cloud about him. Silence was soothing, the stillness only disturbed by breeze and swaying branches, he continued to walk, no particular direction, no real desire to call it a night. Not yet. But maybe he out to have. The night didn't belong to him solely, he knew that, but tonight he had wanted it to, not to share the darkness with anyone when eyes spotted a figure ahead. Head debated turning around but signalled to his feet too late and he was carried forward towards them.

Recognition hit and shoulders relaxed a tiny bit, he watched Julian for a bit as he scribbled away at something, head shaking slowly when he remembered stumbling to Briar in a similar way, and much like then, Ken questioned as a way of greeting and making his presense known, "Aren't you supposed to be..." But he realised sleep was not a requirement any longer for Julian either, "... Hmm. What are you doing?"

#— convo; #c: julian chandler #c: julian 002 #smoking tw

[kenxmatsui]

for: aaliyah (@akiss-from-a-rose) & meena (@cantfightmoonlight) time & location: morning after the attack, manor

When the collective wails of Banshees ripped through town, all Ken could do was cover his ears and wait for it to stop. But they kept on and on, dread growing deeper as the night grew darker. Anger thrashed at his rib cage, screaming to be let out, for a release of any kind, but he locked it in knowing it would do no good but exhaust him and that was not something he wanted in this moment. He checked on his and fists curled at the writing the Selvis had to witness, blood boiling at each bloodied letter. It was lucky, so extremely that Hande hadn't stuck around after the act, she would not be alive if so. Rage did not subdue but clarity somehow was found admist the red he saw, and he let Meena know he'd be dropping by to see them both when word came through where Aaliyah would be recovering.

Tradition needed keeping up, if he could not meet her at the bar, he could at least bring the drinks to her. Hard liquor had always been the choice for such things and he packed up the highest quality whiskey he had, adding to it a bottle a red he had in his cabinet before speeding off to the manor, reaching the destination in record time, a good thing since silence would give way to thoughts, to which he had no time for, Ken walked up and knocked. Politeness even in a time like this, especially in a time like this had to be maintained, that structure was vital, besides he had never been the type to barge into homes no matter who, not because his vampirism didn't allow so but because he didn't.

#— convo; #c: meena raja #c: meena 005 #c: aaliyah rose #c: aaliyah 003

[kenxmatsui]

He gave a nod before taking a seat, gaze setting sight on the book spread in front of her, a brow rose, "Interesting. Is this common practise?" He supposed everyone had their own way of dealing with whatever plagued their mind, healthy outlets and some starkly opposite, he didn't know where on the scale this could fit, still he made no judgement, she didn't warrant it. Yet. It was strange thing, a rare thing for him to grow comfortable around someone as quick as he had for Briar but given the gravity their conversations usually held, it wasn't surprising to see, if anything Ken had come to appreciate them. "Where is it not?" he answered in question, "It's on everything and nothing, of wanting to find answers and knowing I won't like it when I do." It wasn't exactly an answer, not a proper one, but a vague yet honest reply that eluded to his headspace. "If I manage to detangle my thoughts, I'd share, everything -- and I do sound like a broken record saying this -- but it's all fucked. Typical really."

She had taken to journaling all her pent up feelings. The misplaced, wild and angry. She wrote until her hand went numb and did so without lifting her pen or slowing to consider her thoughts. It was a consistent stream of feelings turned to words and she had filled several pages before she had realized the foam in her latte had started to sink to the bottom of the cup. She would have written more, filled a whole book with the years of thoughts and feelings she kept tampered down if a familiar voice hadn't pulled her from her head. She supposed it would become a trend if there was a third time. She blinked, adjusting her vision before she offered a wane smile and nodded for him to sit with her. "I'm tired of my thoughts. I think they can wait for a while." She shifted a bit the newest happenings in town felt like they were occurring so quickly she hardly had time to fathom them- to wrap her head around how she truly felt.

Briar knew how she was supposed to feel. How she was expected to feel even, but those two things seemed to be at odds with the truth. "Where is your head at these days?" She asked in a way that leant to a true desire to know and not the typical lane of small talk about the weather. "Any thoughts to share." She said while gesturing to the full scribbled pages of her journal she had shut with the pen nestled as a book mark.

#— convo; #c: briar reed

[kenxmatsui]

Ken blinked at him not understanding why he wouldn't be here, especially in a time like this. "Need I remind you, you have seen me in near spiralling state on more than one occasion?" Ken replied calmly, "I understand this situation, I've seen you go through it, why would I leave? Even if you'd like to be left alone, I would not be able to bring myself to go through on the act. Only way out is if you revoke permission of entry." Even then he knew whatever pain that would be inflicted in needing to leave he'd bear it till physically impossible. But thankful it hadn't come to that, Rohan stepped aside and Ken gave a low huh at the state of the place as he gazed around, "You did indeed." It was a visible proof of anguish and pain, of that something Rohan couldn't phrase. He knew the sentiment if not the word, his anger looked something like this too. "This is a release of feeling and in a way, despite the wreckage, I'm glad this is out of you, even if a little bit."

Ken listened without interruption, without dismissal, there was no suggestion to offer either not when the act was done, when the sentence released onto the coven it couldn't be taken back. A fact he did not need to state. "Who did you bring back?" he asked out of curiosity, "Your intentions were pure enough, to help a soul, that's your power after all, raising spirits and such, but intentions and actuality differ greatly sometimes. Necromancy had always allured you, hasn't it? Going deep to explore powers is not entirely a bad thing, you're not a bad person, just went about it in the wrong channel. I know this is not something you'll take lightly nor should you, but just don't beat yourself up too harshly over it." Death might not be preventable but there could be workaround, like there had been for that Chandler kid. Life, death and purgatory, seemed like a normal fucking day in this town.

Despite the pleas that he himself had just uttered, Rohan found the heavy, stilted silence all the worse than the outburst he may have been dreading. It settled over the pair of them like a terrible, frayed quilt, suffocating in its embrace. He swallowed, averting his darkened gaze, unable to look at his friend, grasped by shame. "Are you sure you want to be around me right now, Ken? I don't want you to...I don't want you to see me like this." Rohan glanced back into the apartment. "I wrecked it all." After a beat, he stepped aside all the same, holding open the door with a weak nod.

The inside of the space was even more disheveled than usual. Quaint eccentricity had given way to a complete maelstrom of disorder, things torn asunder by the witch's frantic cleaning frenzy. Rohan crossed his arms, falling weakly against a wall. "I just...I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to...I don't know." He murmured distantly.

If he had any more tears, he would have been crying them. "I performed necromancy," Rohan said at last, voice hoarse. "The worst kind. I brought someone back, Ken. I brought someone back, and I didn't mean to. But I did. I was trying to exorcise a ghost, and I just...I got in too deep. I fucked up. And someone else will have to pay the price now." A shuddering breath escaped his lips. "I'm a murderer."

#— convo; #c: rohan persaud

[kenxmatsui]

for: amrita ( @dvsconocvdo ) time & location: around dusk at a park

It seemed like a big fucking ask, to want a town that called itself a safe haven to provide safety. The word lost all meaning a while ago to him, with an onslaught of bloodshed and nightmares, now it lay dead and buried beneath a pile of shit and bedrock. The past few days were a whirlwind of mess and trouble, and the past few months too were devoid of peace and quiet -- but really when had he ever properly felt those anyway? Happiness was fleeting, blew by like wisps of smoke leaving behind only a memory of light. Still, he moved along, head heavy with thoughts and tried to not let frustration get the better of him. Running helped a little with that, feet hitting the side-walk at a normal speed, the vampire purposefully avoiding his abilities in desperate hope for a sliver of human exhaustion, it wasn't working as expected but movement was needed.

And he wished it didn't come to a stop so soon. What was it with people doing things that interrupted his run? He had changed course to steer away from the woods and inexperienced vampires, and now? Another crouched by a tree and talking... to herself? Bewildered and recognising the figure to be Rohan's sister, Ken walked up, footsteps were naturally quiet and he made no notion to announce himself till he spoke, "What are you doing? Are you talking to yourself?"

#— convo; #c: amrita singh #c: amrita 002

[kenxmatsui]

for: briar @briarreed location: coffee shop

He didn't know why he still held hope or wanted things that would never happen, wishing for peace was foolish and redundant in this town, proved time and time cementing that as a fact, yet, at first signs of strife, Ken sighed, tired and angry at this new mess they now found themselves in. Even more so for the Coven and Rohan. He hadn't yelled at his friend when he saw black eyes, as per request and also not wanting to but that did not mean he cast it out of his mind. He couldn't. Despite thoughts being thrown into a disarray since that moment, Ken felt the familiar numbness thrum through him, offering a strange sort of comfort and normalcy in this tumultuous time.

His visit to the cafe was intended to be a short one, a quick stop to get his fix and return to solitude, but intentions and happenings he should know by now wouldn't always line up. Catching sight of a shock of red hair, Ken's attention pulled to the back where Briar sat. "Care for company or do you want be alone with your thoughts?"

#— convo; #c: briar reed #c: briar 005 #( hope this is okay! )

[kenxmatsui]

"You're not going to be a vampire," he said matter-of-factly, "I would still stop you though." Thoughts on the matter didn't grow as his focus now shifted to her pout, "Definitely have, but don't lose all hope, you can keep trying," he teased. He wouldn't take back his comment, but in all honesty, Leyla wouldn't have to try hard to convince him on things, she was his soft spot and eventually he would give in. "Besides, it's not all a bad thing, really, it's a good gauge for me to figure how mischievous your plans are going be. There's a glint to your eyes when you scheme. It's cute."

At the mentioned of Aprils Fools, Ken groaned with a roll of his eyes, "God, that's still a thing? Sure, I suppose with that day coming up it could be seen as such then, or every prank could be linked back to you. All in all, yes, only if to not get yourself in too much trouble I'll help you. Kind of also a little curious to see who this, or these people are."

"So if I became a vampire, I could smoke to my heart's content and you wouldn't stop me?" She asked innocently. Not that she had ever plans of ever becoming a vampire, but still. "lt is to me, but hey! No you haven't," She mumbled out. Her pout only growing as a hurt look filled her wide doe like eyes as he mentioned he no longer was swayed by how cute she could be. "Take that back. Please?"

"It would only be incriminating if it was clear a crime had actually been committed," She countered. "But, as of now, its just a harmless sign put up the day before April Fools which is kind of the holiday of pranks, just saying," She mumbled under her breath. Though at the mention of help, her eyes widened. Her chin lifting as she blinked over at him in disbelief. "Wait, really? You'd- you want to help? Are you sure?" She asked, trying to hide the excitement in her voice as to not get her hopes up just yet.

#— convo; #c: leyla selvi #c: leyla 022

[kenxmatsui]

The uncalled for sharp tone only earned her a flat stare that morphed into a quizzical look when she spoke. "Is that what you were doing? Hunting?" Disbelief laced his words but taking a moment to look at her now, it was believable or would be if he stretched the definition of hunt. "I thought you were lost. There's a ..." Ken gestured to her hair, which really could be mistaken for a bird's nest with the leaves and sticks sticking out, or frizz? "Well, there's a lot going on." Her additional comments, also unnecessary, earned an brow raise and an eye roll, and despite being the question being asinine Ken decided to humour her, "Hmm, what number do I have to hit for it count as serial?" He took a step forward, "Is it the running, woods, or night that is bothering so much? The combination is common. I don't think I'm weird so by default, it has to be the former of the two."

God, not this asshole. Ronnie rolled her eyes, sneering. "Your run interrupted my hunt, dick," she snarled, not matching his calm tone. Why should she have to hide her irritation. She wasn't the one in the wrong here. "At least I have a reason to be out here. Only serial killers go jogging in the woods at night." Literally, who did that? And why? She had an actual reason for being outside at this time. Like, multiple reasons, actually. This was the only time she could really hunt, and this way, he wouldn't get pissed off because she was asking people for coffee with a little bit of blood in it. Or make fun of her for it because she hadn't really understood what it was. Almost a year later, and she was still holding onto that. Fucking asshole. "So, what? Are you serial killing right now or are you just fucking weird?"

#— convo; #c: ronnie bishop #c: ronnie 002 #( he came out to have a good time but feeling so attacked rn )