( ✧ clary sage )

[gunthyr]

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𝐈𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 (𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄)

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five centuries ago, heaven and hell were both abandoned by god. leaving the beings of the
afterlife to self-govern without guidance nor direction, eventually... order crumbled. war b
roke between the heavens and hell for the right to rule the afterlife, ultimately leading to
a stalemate. endless fighting took a hefty toll on the order of the afterlife, however. count
less souls (human souls) have been stuck in purgatory, with no where else to go- the situati
on has become so dire that humans can no longer enter the afterlife, roaming as a soul in 'l
imbo' on earth. it has been a decade since the 'great war' ended. the war lasted for 513 yea
rs, and purgatory has finally been cleared... all that's left now is for the remaining human s
ouls on earth to be collected. to accomplish this, heaven & hell have created masked 'bran
ches' on earth for soul collection, masked as every day human attractions- cafes, restauran
ts, hotels, etc. that's not to say that angels and demons have been entirely faithful to their
"truce". and of course, it appears that demons remain more inclined to their unhinged way
s, contributing little. that being said,ixwelcome to "clary sage cafe", the only turf in califor
nia where demons and angels must respect their truce and reel in wayward souls.

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𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒,zxzxx𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍

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[gunthyr]

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𝐈𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 (𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄)

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the rules of clary sage,ixthe establishment, are only that demons and angels are prohibited
from engaging in violence of any kind in the vicinity. to break this rule is to break the truce
between heaven and hell. when in clary sage, there are... other, rules to follow, 001. site r
ules, of course, still apply 002. two characters per person. you may not have multiple of th
e same kind of role (ex. two demons) 003. this is a semilit rp, 300+ words per post 004. the
'technical' ages of this rp are 20-30 005. discord is mandatory, you must be able to join disc
ord for rp discussion, but your forms must go on the discussion thread. please have forms u
p within 5 days of reserving 006. reservations should be made through pm or dm on discord.

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𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒,zxzxx𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍

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[gunthyr]

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𝐈𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 (𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄)

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒... most would assume that they are the seven virtues. however, th
e 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 are more than that . they are what heaven values as the laws of
their realm, beyond just the virtues one should strive to achieve . the 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐏
𝐋𝐄𝐒 are simple; to let go of all things 'fleeting' from your human life. love, human ideology,
things that can be corroded with time; tainted. however, after being abandoned by god, m
any angels have asked the question of whether these principles should still dictate their liv
es, after centuries of being abandoned by their creator.
𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍... soul collection is the general term used for bringing back the wander
ing souls locked outside of purgatory into the afterlife , where their eternal fates shall be j
udged. however, you should never force a soul through the gates, or cause a soul to leave e
arth with added resentment. this may skew their fate , although only angels seem to partic
ularly care. demons... well , unprincipled creatures have never cared for the rules, or so th
e angels would tell you. it is the job of 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 and 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒 to guide these souls back
𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 ... while clary sage cafe is meant to be a place of collaboration betwee
n angels and demons , most (if not all) of the staff upholding the establishment are angels.
this establishment is meant to maintain the appearance of a human-run cafe. no living hum
ans are permitted to know the truth about 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄.

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𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒,zxzxx𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍

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[gunthyr]

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𝐈𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 (𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄)

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clary sage cafe has only existed for ten years, one of the first establishments for collecting
wandering human souls, and now one of the few remaining. the 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 can take credit fo
r a majority of soul collection, being (mostly) order-loving beings (but not necessarily... pe
ace loving). the 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒 have remained unruly as always, unprincipled, and at times even
stealing wandering human souls from one another or 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒, taking credit with minimal w
ork. other times, 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒 may even consume these souls for personal power. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑
is the owner of clary sage cafe. like most here, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑 served during the 'great war',
but due to the truce heaven and hell are unstably bound to, they must maintain peace at c
lary safe cafe (and efficient soul collection). new arrivals in town have also made the mem
bers of clary safe cafe... unsteady. the 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is one of the many reasons; a power
ful, widely feared demon, even among the demons in hell. how willing will they be in coop
erating to maintain peace? there are also the inexperienced, such as the 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, a yo
ung demon who was stuck in hell until the war blew over. the 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 has never laid ey
es on an angel before, how will they handle adjustment now, after all the stories of the blo
ody war? then, there is the 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, a young angel whos been spending more time on
earth than in heaven, especially in clary sage cafe alongside 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 is
a far cry from a fallen angel, but perhaps too fond of earth and clary sage, straying from th
e heavenly principles. and in the crossfire are the wayward souls, the 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒, the few re
maining that clary sage must bring back to the afterlife. these 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒 have already passe
d away, existing as ghost-like beings, either trapped on earth or fleeing from having to leav
e. and you are their guide. xxxxxxxxxxxxx𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄, 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑.

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𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒. XXXXXXxxxXXxxxxxxXXXXXXxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXX

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𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 xxx raphael zhang xxx demon xxx ~1800 xxxxxxxxxxxxxixxxxxplayed by kim
𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 xxx jiangyu shao xxx demon xxx ~700 xxxxxxixxxxxxxxxxxxxxxwplayed by gunthyr
𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 xxx atlas hwang xxx demon xxx ~600 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxwplayed by bora
𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 xxx adelaide conte xxx demon xxx ~150 xxxxxxxxixxxxxxxxxxxxplayed by bam

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒.

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑 xxx "giles" thanasukolwit xxx angel xxx ~2000 xxxxxixxxxxxxxxplayed by hera
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 xxx austin harper xxx angel xxx 600-700 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxiwplayed by bam
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 xxx iris kantor xxx angel xxx ~700 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxixxxplayed by berethnet
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 xxx cassy hwang xxx angel xxx 200 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxixxxxplayed by gunthyr

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒

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𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 xxx wyatt ha xxx human xxx 20 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxiplayed by kim
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 xxx "huey" jaegal xxx human xxx 21 xx-30xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxplayed by hera
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 xxx dash seong xxx human xxx 22 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxplayed by bora
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 xxx oliver yang xxx human xxx 23 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxplayed by karasu

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𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒,zxzxx𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍

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[gunthyr]

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𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃/𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

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welcome inside clary sage cafe, wayward soul. this link takes you to the discussion thread.

[gunthyr]

𝐉𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐎

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐈𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄
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𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎, demon, ~700 yrs old xxxx𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒, raph (formerly), openxxxx𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, giles, wyatt, hueyxxxx𝐖𝐂, 1262

indentsuch an easy song and dance it was, to wrap someone up in their greed for more. it was jiangyu's nature and the addiction of others. something born from the need to survive, blossoming into jiangyu's purpose. to lure people in with their greed, entangle them in a red web of threads and lust. the more they coveted, the more trapped they became. perhaps it was a dangerous game for jiangyu, too. to have so many wishing to possess him, someone who couldn't be owned- or, rather, refused to be. yet, he indulged in plaguing the obsessed with the fleeting memory of the demon, till their thirst was quenched by another taste, and until they were abandoned to live with the craving.

even as a human, a courtesan, his existence drew many eyes. jiangyu's demise at the age of twenty-one was one of his own doing (he supposed), when his strings became too tense and knotted before jiangyu could cut them loose and disappear. he was sought after as a concubine and consort by nobles, until he seduced the wrong noblewoman for his own gain. lonesome and impassioned by her infatuation with the young man, who would jiangyu be to not use someone so desperate to have him?

it was her jealous husband that killed the elusive beauty that his wife pined for, but jiangyu supposed it was only a matter of time. had it not been jiangyu's blood this time, it would've been another one of jiangyu's... "acquaintances". another, because it wasn't the first time blood would be spilled over the boy, and it was far from the last.

seven centuries later and he was still as ruining as he was back then. perhaps he was born to sin, born to tempt, but to such an accusation, he'd ask you... could you blame him? it was in his nature, how could you criticize him for wanting only the best for himself? if not material luxury, then the satisfaction of another admirer, another 'game' to entertain him. immortality would be boring without such games and gambles.

all it took was a bit of a coy smile, a little pull and then pulling away, intrigue turned into mindless self indulgence. that's how many of jiangyu's nights went, with nothing but first names to acquaint oneself and a bed to leave before the sun rose. oh, the things jiangyu's heard from the abundance of people (mostly humans) who longed for his company. infatuation made humans so dazed with eagerness, and their lips so loose. secrets, money, gifts... it was all at jiangyu's fingertips if he so desired. he often left before the craze became overbearing and... unbearable.

it was a cycle for flawed creations. abandoned ones, as they all had been for over 500 years.
while the funnel of human souls into heaven or hell became bottlenecked, the demons descended further into damnation. some were consumed by blood-thirst, becoming truly unhinged beings willing to kill even their own. others made games of how many angels they could hunt. but jiangyu? war lost its lustre (an appeal some unruly demons seemed to adore more than air itself) centuries ago, and not for a love of peace. a boy as destructive as jiangyu, permanently in the prime of his beauty, needed peace for no one but himself. no, jiangyu was only getting bored of playing with the likes of his own kind. plenty of demons came and went; fighting between celestial beings meant no creature, immortal or not, was a stranger to death, after all. jiangyu? he was concerned with ensuring he never inched close to getting a second taste, unlike many of the demons that were picked off in the war, quite a few of whom jiangyu had seduced for the same reasons as always.

there were even a few encounters with angels during the war, those who were harmonious (and gullible) enough to hesitate before springing to attempt to kill the demon. he couldn't remember their faces, nor their names, but jiangyu almost pitied them. were beings of virtue always so easy to tempt? was his thought in his first encounter, four centuries ago.

he supposed peace at least brought jiangyu more freedom to indulge himself, without the need to dirty his own hands. well, as fickle as this peace was, held together by a thread. it was glaringly obvious, given the stares the staff of clary sage café couldn't resist giving him. some eyes even had a glint of poorly masked curiosity, but most tiptoed the edge of becoming glares. the owner, too, was no exception... or perhaps jiangyu was the one at fault for the bitter taste in giles' mouth, stealing his patrons for his own amusement. the patrons in question? one a wanderer as boyish as they came, and the other a blank slate of humanity entirely.

there was simply too much excitement buzzing around the café, with angels and demons alike wandering in an out as often as their patrons. jiangyu didn't mind being one of them for a little while, until he had his fill and moved on.

that was the sentiment causing jiangyu's rosy lips to quirk briefly at the ends, almost forming a smirk. still, he carefully adjusted his platinum blond hair in the mirror, and then tilted his head to examine the way his one-sided dangling earring, shaped as a cross, looked. he hadn't been preening for long, but his outfit was a stark contrast to the night before, when he returned home late after deciding to abandon an eager and intoxicated (on what is debatable) young man at a bar the night before. not that what he was wearing has ever stopped himself.

he reached for his phone, texting a particular "young" man who jiangyu was certain was thinking of clary sage café already. not for the café, of course, but one of its angels. not that the details mattered to jiangyu shao, nor raphael zhang.

[9:04 AM]
care to go to the café with me?
your angel should be there anyways~
or maybe you were hoping to pester poor old giles this time~?

9:28 AM marked their arrival to clary sage café. it was nothing particularly remarkable, but it was warm and calm- everything a wayward soul would seek comfort in, he supposed. jiangyu spared no chance to tease raphael the closer they approached, especially when a pink-haired boy sitting at a table outside the café came to view, consumed in his sketchbook. well, not exactly a boy; an angel. and not exactly jiangyu's point of interest, but rather his friend's. he grinned, "oh look~" jiangyu let out an airy chuckle while eyeing raphael knowingly, nudging his arm, "your favourite pink drink's on the menu today."

stepping ahead of raphael, he smirked and offered raph a half-hearted wave, "just dying for a taste of him again, i'm sure~ so i'm leaving first." he reached the door of clary sage first, too, of course. jiangyu glanced raph's way a final time before stepping into the café, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

now all there was to find his next plaything (or, for a lack of a better word, prey). and if too bored to wait, he supposed watching a certain two-millennia old angel's headache grow from watching one of his angels be courted by an equally as powerful demon would be worth a bit of loitering. he picked up one of the printed menus and mindlessly flipped through, wondering what would suit his tastes today... not that he was talking about the menu.

[mtuan,]

.. 𝐇𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊-𝐌𝐈𝐍. '𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙔𝙊𝙐'𝙇𝙇 𝙎𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀 !!
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(tags) cookie
monster, cassy
(mentioned)
(misc.) 1,282
words
mtuan, kim mtuan

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𝐀
𝐊
𝐀

𝐖
𝐘
𝐀
𝐓
𝐓

Ring Around the Rosie
Pockets full of Posies
Ashes, Ashes
We All Fall Down!

The sound of elementary school kids giggling echoes through the dark space of dreams, the sound of life and happiness of children no older than maybe six or seven years of age singing the ages old nursery rhyme with ideas a little darker than intended for kids the age. The happiness rings in ripples like a leave in a still pond, disrupting the peace and quiet that had become the month long away from the living.

'Mr. H! Look at the ladybug I caught during recess!'

The pitched squeal of a little girl stands out among the rest, Wyatt Ha could still recall the way her little feet would stomp across the black-top, how her two little pigtails would bounce in excitement every time she had something new to show her homeroom teacher. She was an adventurous one, no doubt. Wyatt was sure she'd grow up to make her parents (and him- even if he was only to teach her for a year or two) proud. The little girl's name was Lily. Lily Song. Of course Wyatt could recall the little details about her. It has only been a month since time of death, after all. And she wasn't the only one from his little class of twenty kiddos. She just happened to stand out- loud and proud. He still recalls asking the little six year old what she wanted to be in the future. To which little Lily had answered-- 'Sailor Moon-- or her friends! Fighting evil by the moon!' (No, the phrase wasn't exactly verbatim- not surprising for a little girl, but Wyatt remembers his lighthearted laugh, 'It's "fighting evil by moonlight", love.'

'Mr. H, Mr. H-!'

The voices drown out and there's a sense of longing that replaces- no, overpowers, all other thoughts.

It's a recurring echo of love and lost for the wandering soul... lost. The lost soul.

Some nights, he finds himself out with the humans.

Like last night.

And while no one would acknowledge his presence for being with the humans in their cute little night lives (-the one he never had the chance to experience, given his younger... age of death), Wyatt found himself mingling amongst them anyway. Drinks in hand, mysterious liquid in those red cups... thank goodness nothing worse can happen to a dead man, now.

With the DJ blasting some bass beat in the background, Wyatt spends his nights in zero peace. Or some of those nights- sometimes, the young man still enjoyed the quiet to reminiscence his lack of knowledge and lament his misfortunes.

Regardless of what it was he was doing to pass the time, the month-long resignment from life was a pitiful one. Filled with monotones and the thrum of life amongst the dead.

And like a vicious cycle that Wyatt couldn't break free from, he often found himself in odd positions during the night (-or what was considered to be 'night'... not that ghosts really cared for time at all, is that right?), and then in Clary Sage during the daylight hours. By the window booth seat. If it hadn't been taken that day.

Clary Sage.

A cafe as boring as the rest of the after life, if the ghost were being honest. A whole lineup for dead people and yet the owner refused to present every cookie flavor under the sun in the display case... how unfair. So what if Wyatt preferred a different cookie for each day of the year? Was it a crime to have one for his pickings each day, if he were to reside as this damned dead, anyway? Okay, perhaps the conundrum was an exaggeration all on its own. Wyatt Ha was not an enthusiast or connoisseur by any means. He doesn't think he's consumed more than maybe a chocolate chip or two during his time as a human even. Yet somehow, it's been a running joke as the... cookie sommelier (yes, that's a joke, Wyatt knows what a sommelier is supposed to do-). This is entirely the fault of a beautiful, prince-like demon, by the way. After he'd offered Wyatt the first cookie not too long ago... and then caught him with a stack of cookies on the booth table top.

Speaking of the prince- or not. The ghost pulls out his little journal of ghostly things. A daily log of his day in's and day out's as Wyatt experienced them. It's the only way the young man could keep track of how many days he's been dead without counting the dates. It's the only way, perhaps, that he really knows that time has been real and not in his fortune. Or that what he's experienced has in fact... been experienced.

Sometimes, Wyatt thinks he's been on autopilot through his time. Like he's present, but not fully present. Lingering. The way his soul lingers between heaven and hell, but never stepping foot past either lines. Not the pearly gates of heaven, nor the fiery ones of hell.

Regardless, the wandering human flips open to a new page in his journal, the pen tucked under the front cover pulled from it's snug home, and Wyatt clicks it open. The date and header always came first. Consistency was key, at the very least- the least bit of control Wyatt had on his undead life.

xx/xx/xxxx, lips like cherry blush

(an excerpt)

[...]

His beauty is eternal, with rosy, plush lips and perfectly styled hair. And those eyes, intense, but charming... unique. Round, but accentuated in his own ways to look sharp...er... perhaps it's a demon's quality (or perhaps not), but they're alluring. His features perfectly shaped to entice the next person in. Is this what they called sinning- to be bewitched by a boy... If so, maybe that's why so many have sinned.

And yet, by some mistake of the heavens, I was offered a cookie and the cookie never left me since. Lingering whenever I enter this damn cafe. Why do I buy myself one to nurse for the duration of my loitering here at Clary Sage, I will never understand.

Oh... perhaps a demon as exquisite and extraordinary was meant to leave a lasting impression that couldn't be wiped from behind closed lids.

[...]

It's only 9

-

The sound of the doors of Clary Sage swinging open causes Wyatt to jump in his seat, an all too familiar voice reaching his ears. Abruptly, the boy slams his journal closed a little too hastily, he's probably crinkled a page- the thought makes Wyatt wince, but he doesn't bother to check. He's too afraid to check and face the questions to come, if someone were to catch his actions unfold like a live event.

Grateful for the universe for once, the demon who shall not be named in the hopes he doesn't notice Wyatt's fluster walks through the door with a buddy in tow. Although, from the corner of his eye, the wandering boy catches how there's a murmur of teasing between the pair and then the second boy- Raphael, they called him, was off on his own. Probably in favor of Cassy. The boy he'd been joint to the hip of.

Romance is dead, more dead than Wyatt already was, but sometimes, it's people like Raphael and Cassy that reminded Wyatt that... it exists. Despite the thought of love flopping about like some useless fish outta water, waiting to suffocate to death or simply dry out, somehow it existed.

Ducking his head, Wyatt lets his body slump further against the booth, hastily pulling the book in front of him back into his arms and marginally out of sight.

[herald.]

━━━━━━━━━━ ( 𝙷 𝚄 𝙴 𝚈 ) ━━━━━━━━━━
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[ role ; wandering soul ] [ tags ; jiangyu ] [ mentions ; austin, raph cassy ] [ wc ; 1,397 ]


♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Sunrises were pretty.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠It wasn't exactly a novel thought. And it certainly wasn't a new one, in the existence of humanity's tenure on this planet of theirs. People had likely been admiring the way that a pastel palette of colors gently flourished on the horizon with the sun's emergence long before they even had words to describe it, and ever since humans had gained that power, bards and poets and all sorts of masters of flowery language had been trying to find the perfect way to express the beauty in those elusive dawn moments.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Huey wasn't a bard, though. Or a poet, or a lyricist, or an author. He was just a lost soul amidst a drifting sea, and to him, at least, this was a novel thought; a realization that he had never come to in life, shiny and new like the toys he had never gotten as a child. Sunrises were pretty to look at, and it was nice to watch the sun come up in the morning for no other reason than that he simply wanted to. He wanted to, and he could, so he did.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠He was still trying to get used to things like that; things like "wanting", or going out of his way to do something just because it was pleasant. It was why he had taken to this ritual of his, finding a suitably tall building in the city every morning and watching the sun come up. To him, it felt like he could start his day off "right" this way, beginning with something he did just for himself, a stolen half hour or so alone on some rooftop. Huey had spent plenty of time on rooftops in his life, but never for reasons so mundane. So on this morning, just like all his other mornings for the past year or so, he let his feet dangle off the edge of some office building or other, and he quietly appreciated the changing colors of the sky.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Unfortunately, his plans for the day ended there, as they often did. After an entire lifetime of strict routine and schedules, it was still an... adjustment, to say the least, to have total freedom with what to do with his day. Well, as much freedom as one could have in death, anyway, wandering around the world as a specter of humanity; always looking in, rarely able to do more than observe.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠But there were a chosen few places made for people like him - places for wandering souls who could just use a place to feel "normal" for some time. One he frequented more than others, as a result of the comforting atmosphere and the kindness and understanding of the staff. (And, perhaps of late, some of the interesting patrons.) So, without any other ideas that stood out as better alternatives for what to do with his morning, Huey began making the familiar journey to one Clary Sage Cafe.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠The shop was already open by the time he arrived, though practically dead in the wee hours of the morning. He received a kind smile and a nod of acknowledgement from the owner as he made his way through the doors, the latter of which he returned as he made a direct line to his favorite seat. There was a tasteful mix of booths and open table seating in the establishment, but Huey's favorite spot was, to no one's surprise, in the corner. It was away from all the windows, had a clear line of sight to the door, and left his back protected. They said some habits died hard, and a few of his had simply died with him, he supposed.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠He really was glad that the staff took their dedication to treating souls charitably to such heart, though, because what happened after he ordered a single small herbal tea was something that... happened far too often, probably, for anyone that wouldn't be as tolerated. Halfway through the steaming beverage, Huey found himself pillowing his head on his arm as he watched the occasional people walking down the streets through the front of the cafe's entirely glass front. It wasn't like ghosts needed to sleep, but he found himself relaxing into a sort of meditative state, sometimes, retreating into his own head with a pleasant static over everything. It was nice to feel safe enough to not be on guard all the time, and sometimes a strange exhaustion settled over him, like there was a fundamental weariness to his soul that begged to be given some respite.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Huey wasn't sure how long he "napped" for, only that by the time he blinked his eyes open again, the world outside had lost the pastel hues of dawn and taken on the bright sunniness of mid-morning. Although it had surely gone off countless times in the hours since he'd been there, it seemed like the chiming of the bell on the front door was what finally roused him. It wasn't the familiar jingle that had him sitting up in interest, though; he was no Pavlovian dog, eagerly waiting for any customer to walk through the door and give him the time of day. It was who walked through the doors after that immediately shook any lingering fatigue from his mind.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠If someone had told a living Huey that demons were real, he... probably wouldn't have cared much, let alone believed them. Not that there was much he did believe in at the time, outside of his mission. But they were just as real as angels were, and Huey would have believed in the idea of those even less, despite his now favorite establishment being run by them. And somehow, some of his favorite people were turning out to be some of those supernatural entities as well, including one of the ones that just entered the cafe.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠It was no secret that Huey had a hard time connecting to others. His awkwardness and stoic appearance meant that he either failed to gather the courage to approach others in fear of scaring then off, or others refused to approach him, due to his unintentionally chilly aura. There were a few people that didn't seem to mind his strange demeanor, though; one, an angel that had gathered the courage to talk to him, instead of the other way around for once. The other, one of the pair of demons that just sauntered their way into Clary Sage with the same charming confidence he always carried himself with. The demon known as Raph (who Huey had yet to spend much time with, both as a result of the man seemingly almost always being wrapped up in a certain pink-haired angel, and the fact he seemed to raise alarm bells in Huey's head when nearby for some reason) made an immediate path for himself to reach his favorite (and likely only) reason for visiting the cafe, but Huey only had eyes for Jiangyu as he split off by himself.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Seeing Jiangyu settle down at a lone table without his fellow demon in tow, Huey recognized a chance to try out one of the latest social techniques he had been made aware of. The demon had been been a great help to him so far, and lately he found himself looking for ways to pay the man back for his time and company. So, making a brief stop to throw out his half-empty cup of long since gone cold tea, the ex-assassin bee-lined his way to the seat across from the blond. Perhaps he let his excitement color his movements a bit too much, as the chair scrapped against the floor a bit in the haste he made to pull it out, but it didn't deter Huey as he quickly got out, "𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮." The words came out of him in a rush, his usual slow, measured speaking style abandoned in favor of trying to put out his offer before Jiangyu actually made a move to place an order. It was likely a bit odd hearing him speak so quickly when he maintained his usual lifeless monotone at the same time, but Jiangyu had always found his oddness amusing thus far, and hopefully this would be no exception.

[sapphic psychic]

𝙄𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙆𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙧
► angel | tags; mentions of surrounding beings | wc; 620
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Ever since Iris' demise, they knew they were meant for something great. It had been almost a millennia since she had become an angel and rarely was there a time when Iris missed being a mortal. In fact, Iris could barely remember being one; after all, he was about 700 years old (you stopped counting after a while). They had found satisfaction in helping maintain peace in the human world -- it was always good. But of course, every hundred years or so, there would come a day when there would be a slight twang in Iris' chest and existing quite literally above the humans didn't feel so... invigorating.

Iris stood a few feet away from the cafe, willing themselves to glide inside the way they always did. To see the newly-deads stare at him with those wide and terrified eyes until Iris assured them that everything would be okay. He would get a warm feeling in his chest that always grew as he watched the humans become more comfortable -- or at least accept that they were dead. But something stopped Iris today. She felt that annoying tightness in her chest as she stood invisible amongst the living humans around her. She grit her teeth, willing herself to 'just move because it shouldn't be this hard.' They were an angel for goodness sake, they'd been one for years. So why on Earth did they feel so human?

His eyes finally focused on the entrance of the cafe squinting just slightly to make sense of what he was seeing, the opening and closing of the door, the coming of the various humans, angels, and demons alike. Iris' shoulders slumped slightly and finally, she started moving forward before her legs decided to take her elsewhere. They let out a breath of relief once they were safely inside the cafe, the air shifting into something more familiar. It was odd; that the thing that brought her so much stress a few seconds ago also calmed it. Iris clung to the wall of the cafe like a fly to a lamp, eyes sweeping over the people and trying to get a grasp on who she might have the pleasure of speaking with.

The cafe was serene. Over the years that Iris had spent helping guide souls and maintain worldly peace (Iris likes to embellish her role sometimes), Clary Sage had become what Iris would call home. Having a purpose -- and a noble one at that -- was what Iris cherished most. The Great War was no doubt a tragedy but what came from it was far greater. The cafe was what the world needed: where all the dead could go, no matter what happened to them in their lifetime. Of course, that was only in theory. Despite the fact that the cafe was supposed to be a neutral zone, the beings themselves had to be the least neutral thing about the cafe.

Iris had unfortunately the utmost privilege of coming into contact with some of the most... unique beings throughout time. Demons and humans were equally interesting to Iris, though he had always been a little... skeptical of demons. Sure, he occasionally cut corners but who didn't? It wasn't like he liked to incite chaos. As much as Iris valued her job and her duty to maintain peace, rules were sometimes made to be broken (Iris picked that line up from one of the humans and liked it very, very much) especially when it was in the name of the greater good. What was an angel to do?

Iris straightened up in her corner of the cafe, blinking rapidly to stay alert, like her boss always said. 'Gotta keep an eye out for those wayward souls.'