Jinu | 진우 | KPOP DEMON HUNTERS (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
idolatrized) wrote1989-10-07 01:02 pm
idolatrized) wrote1989-10-07 01:02 pm
OPEN POST
For all of your PSL / meme / etc. needs!
For all of your PSL / meme / etc. needs!
For all of your PSL / meme / etc. needs!
For all of your PSL / meme / etc. needs!
Oberon/Jinu AU shenanigans
But balance, fragile, is never the wish of those hungry for power. Not the fae — not the fickle folk who easily peel back the veils to cause mischief and strife. It is said they want for nothing besides amusement and their own sense of fun, and it’s precisely why nothing really matters to them. If there’s war to wage, souls to harvest that’s the business of the demon and human realms.
The demons, forever hungry.
The humans, forever dazzling prey.
Always fighting.
Always teetering on the edge of extinction.
It shouldn’t matter to the fae, no.
But—]
My, isn’t this pleasant?
[So speaks the King upon his grand entrance. Appearing on top of a stone panel seated before a pulsing flame, a shadow seemingly pulled to the side as he steps forth — wings, lighthearted steps, a robe finely-fitted. Glowing in the dim stink of a land that is without end. There are eyes on his back, demons gathered at the lower level.
Wondering what the soul of a fae tastes like, if they should dare—]
I trust your desire to hold an audience with me isn’t just to leave your poor subjects salivating back there, yes?
[Fearless; another boon of the fae, when there is no spell or trickery that can cow him to submission. The only reason he’s dared step into a world that is most certainly not his.
… And boredom. Maybe a drop of that, too.]
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Gently, he plays a soft tune on his bipa. Mostly to keep his hands busy, as glowing yellow eyes watch with interest. What are you up to...? he thinks, though wisely keeps his thoughts to himself.
Gwi-Ma looks at the small little man-shaped creature before him with tentativeness, meanwhile; he'd have to be a fool not to know there's a quiet power there, one he hopes to use for his own benefit.
"My demons know their place," the deep voice bellows. "You could tear one of them to pieces right now, and they wouldn't lift a finger without my permission." And while the demons shrink with some fear at the very thought, it is hardly a lie.
"But they do hunger for something else. Something we have had... troubles with, presently. The humans have been strengthening the barrier between our world and their own — but... they haven't had much luck in doing the same with your realm, have they?"
To the point.
If demons could bypass the Honmoon barrier by going through the fae realm...
Well.
There is something to be bartered, here.]
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[A joke without a punch line, nor does the king look like he’s waiting for the laughter of the masses; never mind that, he smirks all the same — and just as abrupt, seats himself upon the cobbles, the rough ashes spat from the flames made softer by the woven cloak he lounges on.
Legs held out. Eyes crescents. He considers the large expanse of flame, before:]
The humans mess with my borders? Of course not.
[The thought? Laughable. Though the fae king is not so rude as to do anything else but smile wisely, head tilted forward. Acknowledgement, that the two of them could, would, kill anything that displeased them, whether it be a demon or an unfortunate gnat flown into their eyesight.
Their only rights as kings: territories to loom over, and subjects to tantrum at.]
I mean — they’ve tried it a couple of times — that and strolling right on through without invite. [Glancing at his nails, smoothing the pad of his thumb overtop] But you know us fae, right? If it isn’t much fun, we don’t allow it.
[The humans? They have absurd numbers. The demons? Power and teeth to take down prey. And the fae? Mystics that warp and twist reality into tapestries. If any realms were to align, it’d spell a disaster for the remaining victim. Common sense and simple math.
.. His crescent eyes, now slits, as they glance up from his hands.]
What you might suggest, Demon King, doesn’t sound like much fun for me, though.
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"It will leave room for other pleasures, Faerie King. In exchange for a path through your realm into the human's, I will grant you an army's defenses. Instead of the fae wasting their time on silly quarrels with humans, my creations will defend your borders for you. Sentries on loan, if you will... Expendable creations that you won't lose sleep losing in a battle."
Jinu's fingers stop, settling over the body of the bipa.
Gwi-Ma continues, "All I request are the souls of any stupid enough to challenge us."
A simple sort of pact:
We have a means to eat well, we fight for you without complaint.
Not unlike exchanging a broom for a street sweeper.
The purple fire shaped suspiciously close to a mouth grins in a crescent moon.
"And of course, I have a number of faithful servants fit for a king as well. An additional gift of goodwill."
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[The king speaks after such spectacle — but not to his equal. No, it is an inquiry thrown behind him, at the now silent bipa and its owner. Head canted (though he does not turn around), not quite fussy, but still; somewhat disappointed that the only sound of note in this realm is the crackling of a demon’s fire. Ah well.]
And see— there in lies our problem. You? You feast on humans. Fair enough, I’ve never tried myself, but…
[The wings upon his back twitch, a movement of vibrant colors drowning in a sea of ink, moved by unspoken words. Who knows which ones find their way to his lips? But all the same:]
I do have my reasons for keeping my hands clean of that realm. A little hobby of mine. The more souls you collect, the harder it is on me to find what I seek.
[A pause; fingers drummed into the gravel. An unturned chin, silent in deliberation. Until eventually he speaks, the first offering of compromise since a foot stepped into this unfamiliar land. Make no mistake, his expression seems to berate; the Fairy King has no love for humans. The need for balance isn’t quite what stays his hands.
Just a simple wish.
A lone desire he cannot quite form.]
So if it pleases you, give me a year to see to my fancies. You can even send one of your gifts to aid me. And should I succeed, the human realm is yours to conquer.
[Is that not fair? Is that not the truest sign of goodwill? From one king to another, he asks — let him have his fun first. Surely, that is all a fairy could ever ask.]
1/2
At the end of the day, a year is nothing to him. Just as he imagines a year is nothing to anyone in his presence right now. A blink and it will pass — and negotiations can proceed more fully. If this is what it takes to find an untapped supply of human souls...
Even someone as vain and proud as he knows it would be foolish to remove one's foot from such a door.
And, perhaps, he can collect intel of his own.
A hum follows.
"... Very well. Despite what some say of me, I am a patient being."
The fire fans out in the air, and as he does so, the patterns on the bipa player's skin glows molten pink. Jinu is suddenly plucked from the air like a puppet on strings, hoisted to the rocky altar by Gwi-Ma without so much as a finger touching him.
With a grunt bit back behind his purple lips, he's placed on his knees behind Oberon, sitting with legs tucked respectfully under him.
"This one should do — a taste of what you may utilize. One of my finer nobi. A capable fighter and trained in tolerance. And quite the little songbird. Whatever you need of him, he is yours."
Jinu's patterns pulse and then cool back into purple lines. Marks of ownership.
His fingers twitch on his bipa.
"Isn't that right, Jinu?"]
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False, but carefully practiced.
It has become second nature, to recover from from such bodily invasions; one moment yanked around like a doll, the next cooed at with the same unflattering talk of a man to their pet. Being borrowed? Lent to some stranger for gain? It doesn't shock him. Frankly, the idea of being allowed to leave the demon realm once more lends to a more genuinely at ease expression.]
Of course. I would be honored to serve any realm's king on your behalf.
Whatever it takes to prove a worthwhile alliance.
[Turning more toward Oberon, he bows respectfully, face vanishing for a moment behind the large rim of his gat; it hides the disdain that flashes across his face for but a fleeting moment, just before he smoothly offers:]
Please, use me as you see fit, oh noble faerie king.
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From Gwi-Ma, a greedy king who no doubt means to take the proverbial knife to his wings. From his gift (Jinu), who Oberon shall not trust as far as he can con him. From the demons that hold themselves at attention, witless and eager for their war to start. A realm such as this could never know the monstrous innocence of faeries; how clearly the souls sing as they march along to their own tune of fun, heedless of whatever corpse they might be dancing on.
It’s why his smile is amused, a scoff on his breath. Head twisting faintly to the side, at the young man who kneels behind him:]
“Noble”, am I? To think there is someone willing to call me that still.
[Demons are demons. Fae are monsters. It’s the only reason why there is no war between them yet.]
Well, never mind that. Welcome, welcome. [On his feet now, fingers on a mission to brush what dirt might cling to his robes, until they are once again made bright and pristine. Luminescent in the dark the same way creatures of the deep lurk in their prey.
Lurking over Jinu, his eyes dance, blue embers.]
My courts have longed for a musician! I’ll need a list of all you can play— ah.
[But of course, however; they are still in the presence of the demon king. The deal struck, but niceties must be honored. Unlike most of the faerie courts, Oberon doesn’t mind playing to the rules. On a dime the faerie turns, the smile that splits his face cut with a jagged knife]
A year, then, and the two of us shall return. Let it be a triumph for us both, yes?
[He bows. A hand pressed into his chest as his robes ripple by his feet. And behind him, the veil again lifts — the fabric of night breaking into a sliver of light.]
Until then, may you and your people be at ease.
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And on the other side there is a forest.
Painfully bright. Painted in autumn. Browns and oranges and honey yellows. Also smelling ripe with such pollen that the fae gives a wrinkle of his nose once the two of them touch the ground, and the veil is once more closed.]
Why on earth was it so dark down there? I know it’s a demon realm, but truly, I could have fallen asleep.
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That was a long time ago, though. Hundreds of years of life that has hollowed him out and left him wary of anything so harmless as revisiting a sun in a sky.
When Oberon turns to view him, he’ll find a pale face free of demonic patterns, with brown eyes instead of golden following his movement — studying him even just moments after their arrival, prepared for to on his toes. He’s always made sure to pay attention and walk on eggshells while simultaneously finding new and promising ways to survive the day, decade, century.
His robes have shifted from dark and tattered to flowing white. Like his face, it’s just glamour that hides what is truly beneath.
… Seasonal weather, he thinks. He yearns to have a moment to himself to savor the sensations of a kinder realm, but instead refocuses on answering Oberon’s question:]
Woefully lacking in outlets for light fixtures, my lord.
[Okay, so maybe he can’t always help himself. He folds his hands in front of him, his somewhat battered bipa strapped to his back.]
Or… do you have a particular title you prefer I call you by?
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[A joke or the truth? Well, he’s already moved on after taking his own time to consider the companion behind him. If nothing else, it is an assessment that leans towards approving; satisfied by what he’s seen of the other’s appearance, Oberon turns away and begins a pathless trek through the trees — knowing that Jinu is duty bound to follow.]
And you can call me anything that doesn’t displease me.
[… A touch unhelpful]
Or makes me sound old.
[Alright, fine. Extremely unhelpful.]
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And more than likely just a way he can punish him for something unprompted.
He can already see it now: one misplaced sir or master, creating a 'mistake' that can be properly rectified. His eyes flicker, unprompted memories catching him alongside the very distant sound of Gwi-Ma's whispers — a mostly internal war that nobody else is beholden to. Forcefully, he smiles, expression schooled into something soft and confident and unbothered.]
I'm confident a lord can be very youthful.
But if you ever find any title insulting, I will readily accept whatever discipline you see fit.
[... And curse your name in his mind over and over and over all the while. Even now, his skin crawls at the thought of being passed from king to king like some kind of used up rag. He just needs to focus on what will get him from here to tomorrow, but it doesn't stop the shame, the disgust at Gwi-Ma — at himself.
This is what you deserve, a voice whispers. Why are you disgusted when you're what has gone rotten?]
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[A comment that walks a tightrope between judgement and amusement. At who, at what — a fairy does not say.
Likely it doesn’t matter, when he could not ever hope to know what servitude looks like under a demon’s thumb. Only that nothing about that a’cursed flame masquerading as a king gave the sense of patience or gentle ruling. He had boasted that his demons would have allowed the Fairy King to rip them limb from limb if he’d pleased, if it had meant a chance to avoid the ire of their monarch might — and Oberon believes it, doesn’t need to see the truth lurking within any demon’s heart to know that they are puppets forever on the string.]
Fine then. At your own insistence — displease me with a wayward title and I’ll ensure your tea is lukewarm and salty for ten or so days.
[A promise, that. And moving on, before an answer, his feet crunching leaves underneath his amused gait:]
That aside, tell me: have you ever had dealings with my kind before?
[As they walk, the forest, still vibrant enough to burn the eyes — within its borders, the whispers of a fog begin to roll along the ground, a caress between every speck of soil and stubborn growth reaching for the sky.]
I hadn’t expected to be keeping company like this, so! Might as well get the true introductions out of the way. Can’t have you dying in my realm because you wiggled your nose at the wrong fairy.
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But ah, a question to ponder on. Has he ever had any dealings with fairies? When he was younger, he'd sworn that he'd seen mischievous little spirits. And even sometimes when he would play his lute in an open field... something about performing at sunset just within the king's palace felt oddly mythical. It was probably just his imagination, though; he was always dreaming away when not faced with the complexities of life as a cheonmin.
Not that he's going to tell Oberon any of that.
Instead, he tucks his hands into his sleeves and offers:]
... I don't suppose I have. Demons rarely leave their realm, unless they're collecting souls. [His mouth twists.] As you've noticed, the human world's defenses make it a little tricky to visit these days.
[Demons are a quietly dying breed. It's why Gwi-Ma is so desperate now, to employ the help of any other stronger power. The hunters have sealed up so many pathways with their voices, their weapons... a lot of demons have been slain. Sometimes, Jinu had made it back only by the skin of his teeth.]
I would prefer not to die, though; I only just got here.
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[Spoken as if he is no fairy himself, or at least not a fae worthy of note. Then a hand raises for Jinu’s attention, to halt them in place as the fog continues to thicken and grow around their ankles, like some living creature testing their balance.]
Humans… their power is in all the ways they choose to be contrary. They die easily, but that desperation leads to countless paths and possibilities. And demons — [eyes canted to the side, briefly, at the profile Jinu presents near the king’s shoulder] I can’t deny in terms of power, your lot could murder us all if you knew how.
[Indeed, if only Gwi-Ma knew the secret: how to kill a fae proper. Then there would be no need of allegiances. Just a simple matter of taking another king’s head and slaughtering a realm’s people, all in order to gain access to the prey whose learned how to lock their doors.
Just the thought has the fairy’s eyes gleaming with laughter before he turns his attention back to the fog, and in the distance — the sounds of many cheerful footsteps on a yet unseen path, the merry chattering and laughter of warm voices.]
Us fairies? We are creatures of very old magic. Our forms vary, as do our abilities, but if I were to bind us to one thing… it’s that we are much too attached to our own sense of fun.
So do be very careful when dealing with any.
[Ending on that cryptic, cynical note as the approaching travelers finally cross into their view — and if there is anything to learn from just a glance through the branches, it’s that the lady fairy whose wings shimmer brightly and whose long hair streams as if rivers around her form — she is lovely beyond compare and comprehension, to such an end that the very color of the autumn wood seems to dim in reverence.
And when she spots them, the two men who wait for her notice, her expression blooms into eagerness as she and her entourage pick up their pace. Voice the cadence of silverbells on the wind, she announces herself.
”Fairy King? Oh, how lovely, you’ve brought a guest! It’s been eons!”
A hand upon Jinu’s chin to hold him still, a glance that skates across his features. Her eyes, clear as warm honey, glimmer all the more at what she sees. Pleased, she twists around, to catch Oberon in her gaze as well.
”So this is to be—“]
A guest, Lady Aurora. And one I haven’t even prepared a room for, can you imagine! Maybe you should house him for a bit.
[In a voice that almost seems to cut with warning, speak less, Aurora — if not for how quickly he breezes straight into theatrics. The sigh alone sends the other fairies in Aurora’s company twittering in amusement, their wings twitching about their backs while they watch the proceedings.
And indeed, the lady Aurora tuts immediately before her hand retracts from Jinu’s face. A faint frown.
”Of course not, my king. If he is your guest, he will remain with you.”
Ah, but she is being rude, she considers, as her tone lightens into invitation for the guest to speak. ”Do give me your name, young one… are you a demon? No, you smell more… hm, well. No matter.” Shoulders jumping into light amusement.
”Do you enjoy parties? I’m hosting one tonight — but my king forever alludes my attempts to pull him away from his quarters. Convince him, and I shall reward your efforts greatly.”]
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So he is patient, expression pleasant, lips twitching into a soft smile as he studies her back.
("This is to be" — who? Something to remember. To file away for later.)
It's unsurprising, the beauty of Lady Aurora. Jinu himself has been somewhat prized for his own appearance — soft skin across a sharp jawline, broad shouldered and long-lashed. But his handsomeness reigns from human origins; he certainly can't complete with the fae who dazzle so flawlessly, though... he is also never one to back down from offering flattery and charisma where it may benefit him anyway.]
My name is Jinu, my lady.
And your king is too kind; I am to serve him, not to be served.
[As she backs away, he bows reverently, a hand to his chest and voice a low mature rumble, warm in the right ways to soothe the ear. He knows better than to believe she is truly anything compassionate, of course — he trusts no one, trusts nothing dark or bright.... but it's nice to play pretend all the same.]
I would love to perform for you all. [He smiles deeper as he says it, eyes twinkling, a well-practiced aura of confidence in the way he reveres and worships and offers himself up. A hand moves to touch the bipa that peeks out from behind his shoulder. He glances to the side, at Oberon.] Despite what you've all likely heard of my kind... my talents lie more in singing for a crowd than baring any fangs.
[Despite his playing often being enforced as desired in the demon realm, it's one of the few 'escapes' he has. If he were asked to play until his fingers broke and his body collapsed, he would prefer it over any other torment.]
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Such broad shoulders and luscious hair; a gentleman’s smile and a regale bow. Why on earth has such a visitor come to their realm without anything less than a royal announcement?
If their king does not want him, can they keep him, perhaps?
Together they will dance, and sing, without end, until their boredom grows, and—
”All of you, hush. As I told you, he is to accompany our fairy king. Displease me, and I shall have your tongues as compensation.”
In a voice of sweet honey that does not need to lift to be heard, and the attendants immediately still their tongues and send their glances to the side, chastised. Their lady, cool expression warming back to preening approval when she sets her sights on Jinu again.
”But of course, come play for us, should our king allow it.”
Apparently, she has already seen the look upon the fae’s expression — that his mouth has given a subtle dip of disapproval, with eyebrows riding high upon his forehead. Any other realm — if she were a human or a demon — the displeasure of her monarch would inspire more than a fanciful laugh. But as it is, she simply provides a courtesy, an insistence that he put that pout away. Looking like that, it’s no fun.]
Thank you, thank you, for setting me up as the bad guy for the inevitable moment I tell you both no.
[Another chime of laughter. Her hand drawing against one of Jinu’s crisp sleeves before she reaches towards Oberon, to steady his golden crown more fully upon his head.
”Very well. Another night in which our king does not see to his duties. I shall try again tomorrow, then.”
She steps back, and with her, the thunderous glow that had overtaken the forest slowly recedes back into her bosom. On cue her attendants file rank behind her, their heads bowed politely. The Lady of the Spring, with her smile as pure as any blossom.
”A pleasure, Jinu. Do try to make the king smile from time to time… Though I fear he will make it hard for you.”]
Good day, Aurora. I shall catch tea with you later, alright?
[A shooing motion with his hands, a rude gesture that again sets the fae laughing. No brimstone, bloodlust, or promise of violence. As if such concepts have no right to exist in a land that seems forever in bloom with autumn or spring. With one last grin, the faeries take their leave, utterly disappearing behind a thick oak trunk, their voices snuffed into abrupt silence.]
… Of course she likes you. Of course.
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[He grins, the sharp edge of his canines showing as he does.]
Though... I wasn't aware that fae were so open to something as filthy as a demon.
[He says it with some genuine surprise, though he doesn't really trust it anyway. He's sure that if push came to shove, their truer thoughts on the likes of him with rise to the surface... What kind of higher being would speak so sweetly to a creature like him? Humans are terrified of them, and hunters hate them with every ounce of their being. And truly, nobody hates demons more than they hate themselves.
... That said, he is handsome.
And he knows it too well, no matter how much self-disdain he has for himself. That much is clear if you know him for more than a few hours. As he clasps his hands behind himself, just beneath the bottom of his bipa, he hums thoughtfully.]
Are we really not joining them for festivities? That's unfortunate.
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[The Vibrant Lady who regularly steals colors from the autumn trees if it will enhance her beauty, and lays waste to any creature that might contest her splendor. That she refused Jinu’s presence in her quarters without the cover of her gaudy celebrations means that she already knows what a novelty he will be amongst their kind.
For now, she delights in what he is, and what he might be: a pretty trinket whose smile catches in the sun like a jewel, perhaps dazzling enough to catch one fae’s attention in particular. But the moment she recognizes Oberon’s true intentions, turning Jinu but a rival for the attention of the others—
Squinting his eyes shut as if he can feel the storm of a headache gathering around his temples. Just as expected; Gwi-Ma’s gift already causing problems rather than solving any.]
At least you are silver-tongued. You’ve my permission to run for your life if she tries to kill you later.
[Resuming their walk. The path has cleared somewhat, though remnants of the fog remain — and in various directions, cushioned deeper into the forest’s bosom, Jinu will hear the ebb and flow of conversations. Groups of the fae laughing amongst themselves, either unknowing that their monarch walks among them, or simply not as caring as Aurora had been.]
In any case, try not to be too surprised by the welcome you’ll receive. Demons are so rare in these lands that they’ve no fear of you, or would be concerned with any filth you might carry.
[A truth offered so freely it nearly warps back into fabrication — and Oberon himself cannot quite pinpoint why he bothers to explain such a detail to the demon trailing behind him. There is no trust between them, obviously, when the brat might have that demon lord’s agenda fresh in his mind.
…Perhaps to fill the silence, when he will not ask to hear the bipa as they walk.]
Did I not say that my people like their fun? You’re a new, exciting toy, that is all.
[…
… Frowning straight over his shoulder]
And I’ve spent the last 230-something years avoiding her balls. You’re not about to disrupt my streak here!
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[That's pretty unfortunate. Or maybe fortunate? Maybe it'll depend on the day. Either way, he's fairly certain this world can't be any worse than the demon world. While he usually doesn't worry about other demons bringing him harm, they all often huddle together and wait for their glorious king to do harm instead — depending on how many succeed in collecting souls or fighting hunters, anyway.
(... Which has gotten pretty dire.)
Anyway, he'd rather make a decent impression than none, or at least enough to earn favor. He's still carefully treading eggshells in his own way and making sure he's not too out of line; it's the same fine dance with Gwi-Ma, always one wrong step away from misspeaking and getting knocked upside the head for insolence.]
Still... that's a shame.
I would have loved to play to a more receptive audience in honor of a king.
[Such a thought both excites and repulses him; excitement, because he truly loved to play for others; disgust, because playing for kings has been his life ever since he'd been caged in Gwi-Ma's deals.]
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[A dismissive flick of his wrist. All the effort he is willing to spare over this conversation as they continue their trek forward.]
I’m not about to tell a musician what he can and can’t do with his own instrument.
[And that, he supposes, will be its own novelty — a sense of freedom granted without so much as a edge of concern on the part of the lord Jinu is now meant to serve.
Because he does not care.
Because they do not trust one another.
And that is how it should be, really. Until the moment he thinks how best to use Jinu for his own selfish whims, and perhaps dodge the fangs of the demon lord that crawls underneath the earth, what Jinu does isn’t really much of his concern. Not even if he were to learn every secret the fae realm has to offer, what makes the minds of his people tick; it will do him nor Gwi-Ma much good.
In that regard, the fae folk are ironclad in their defenses. Heartier than any human, more sinister in their desires than even a demon.
There is no way to curry favor or instill fear in those who refuse to die.]
Well — Hopefully you’ve some skill with the mystics I mean to lend you so you can get there safely. Otherwise you’ll be stuck in the fog forgetting both your name and purpose.
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... You're actually supposed to tell me what I can or cannot do.
That's... why I'm here. The whole reason, in fact.
[And he looks confused by it. Flummoxed. Vexed. A king that does not order his followers and servants around is foreign to him twofold; the king of Korea had never hesitated to tout his influence through the palace (rightly so, some would say), and Gwi-Ma was certainly even worse at such things. There have been a few moments early on in his servitude that he would be dragged across the realm by Gwi-Ma's powers, bipa in tow, and ordered to obey and sing.
So this... is strange.
He's not sure what to make of it.]
Gwi-Ma has left me to you... with the intention that I am whatever you'd like me to be.
[Even if he cursed him in his head the entire time, he was still wise enough to do whatever that thing was. Does he want to be free to roam, to do things he enjoys in this realm? Of course. He doesn't want to endanger that if it's genuinely true.
But he can't really imagine a realm in which it is.]
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And you are going to successfully become whatever I want?
[Only barely passing for a question instead of a snarl. Insulted. As if he cares for fake trinkets.]
You, who are but a pawn in your Master’s eyes, meant to either soothe me with those looks or gain my favor with that music. And that’s assuming you don’t try to backstab me.
[—Because he can’t tell, for once. The Truth. He cannot see it. A marvel if there ever was one. Not even a quick glance to the center of Jinu’s chest reveals much — where there would normally be a vibrant blue soul beared for his viewing, crying out its truth with such fervor that it would turn soiled and ugly, the fairy king sees very little with his Eyes.
Unbidden, the corners of his mouth twitch.]
Thought you’d read between the lines, musician, but since you insist I make it plain…
[Turning to the demon, his arms spread out in mocking beseechment.]
I? Could not give less of a shit what you do here! Congratulations. As a guest of my realm, you could try to wring my neck and I’d probably allow it. So long as you don’t make it harder to do my job, you’re free to go, drink, play, and fornicate to your heart’s content.
[A hand touches his own chest as he bows his head, mocking even as the faintest edges of his temper at last begin to cool — not about to explain in all the ways Jinu nearly had his neck snapped in half not two seconds ago. It’s fine. It’s fine. No need to care that much.
A ringing sound, of delicate metal, plays out in the air as Oberon flicks something small at Jinu’s head.
A ring, if he catches it.
A ring still, if it rudely beans him in the forehead]
Not a bad deal, right? Just put that on, let me show you a couple of tricks, and then… you will be free for an entire year.
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And yet here he is, being told... to do whatever he'd like.
This must surely be a test. Or a trap. A way for him to explain to Gwi-Ma that he was an utterly useless servant who did nothing for him. As Oberon winds down, Jinu's brow quirks — then his hand snaps up to catch the ring, flinching and tensing and maybe expecting something more violent than a simple ring in his palm.
Looking down at the small silver band in his grasp, he finally looks puzzled.]
What will it do?
[It seems wise to ask what a ring from a fae king would do.
If this turns him into a bug, he riots.]
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Turning people into bugs is Aurora’s domain. Oberon is not so lacking in decorum that he’ll wrinkle his nose and curse Jinu to forever be a dung beetle.
He will, however, continue to look a mixture of put-out by such a boring response (this is why he hates dealing with demons), and only vaguely interested in the question.]
Currently? It will pull back the Veil and allow you entry into other territories — Aurora’s, for example, so you can go frolicking about her party and she’ll maybe forget I snubbed her again.
[A shrug, before he juts a thumb at the willow in front of them]
Or, for the moment — your bedroom. We need you to finish making it.
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[Though he can't even afford to think of that for long. As much as he'd like to celebrate the idea of being free to 'frolic', he's immediately blinking up at the willow and the (short) king standing in front of it.]
Making it...
I must not have a clear picture of how your castles and homes work.
[This does sound terribly interesting, though. He hasn't had a room for a majority of his life; the closest he'd gotten was his few short-lived years as the Korean king's bipa player, where he'd lived in a residential building among the other more prized musical players. Even as a boy, their home was too small to stand in and served only to eat and sleep...
Please, let him see this mythical room he's to finish.]
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But he won’t be admitting to that; just like he won’t do much to answer the unspoken question in Jinu’s remark, either, instead snapping his fingers at the demon with overblown impatience]
Come now — on with the ring! You’re wasting a king’s precious time here!
[He will, at least, pull back the Veil himself, if only to spare himself more idle talk. The same trick as before, the curtain that lays over the boundaries of reality peeled and propped open by his fingers. And what lays inside—
Is nothing… but a black, swirling void, the very space bleeding and squirming with desaturated color. Lacking both depth or substance. The demon realm, for all its wide expanse of emptiness, at least provided the illusion of distance — that one might walk and walk, and if foolish enough, hope to arrive at a kinder destination. But the space Oberon gestures towards with a nod of his head has no interest in even offering that much.
A demented pocket of non-reality.
And yet Oberon, voice light and dismissive, makes it clear Jinu best step in first. Insistent:]
As I do not know your preferences, I didn’t bother imagining anything in here. So you’ll need to be the first to claim it. Once we’re in, you can think up whatever you please to fill the room — walls, a floor, a desk, a bed… of any make and size; it’s all the same to me.
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[Spoken casually, as he slips the ring on his finger. He isn't really sure what to expect, but this? Is is hardly it. As he pokes his head through the Veil and finds nothing but darkness, it's hard not look a little concerned. The last thing he wants is to be left in a place like this, which some part of him worries about in this very moment.
He's not sure what he's supposed to do, really, but it's clear he's meant to walk in.
As if that's so easy a thing to do. Like walking into the mouth of a very large creature, or falling into an endless pit... Yeah, it takes a deep breath and a moment to remind himself it is what it is before he moves. As his foot meets the nothing, something feels like it materializes beneath him.
Maybe it's because he'd been thinking of what Oberon says.
Walls and a floor would be ideal, first.
As he looks around, some of the details start to fill themselves in. But it's not a particularly large place. There's nothing rich or fancy about it. It's clean, though. It's neither too warm or too cold. And it has a window open with a gentle view, perfect for getting lost in your thoughts.
Jinu's clearly a little caught off-guard by however this works, as he walks around.]
Ahh... It really works.
[A room of his own. Quaint, but far more grand than a lower class peasant's one-room home.]
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[Head poked inside — listen, he wasn’t going to stroll right into a void of unreality, who would be crazy enough to do that — Oberon takes in the work already done with no small measure of approval. Even faint surprise.
It isn’t quite as easy as he’d implied, to craft something out of seemingly nothing — hold an image inside your head and wait for the mystics of the void to conjure it into existence. Oberon has seen humans — even his own silly fairies — accidentally stray into these little black pockets when they weren’t paying attention, only to end up losing everything from their senses to their limbs when they got too creative. And that was if they were lucky. To think the demon barely struggled for more than five minutes with the task…]
Well, isn’t this pleasant. [Stepping over the edge of the Veil once he deems it safe enough, eyebrows popping at the sound of his own footfalls colliding with the solid wood flooring. A damn fine lodging; he’s almost jealous.]
Since you’ve clearly got a knack for it, I guess I’ll let you keep it. [He says, as if he’d planned to rob the demon blind.] Like I said, it’s yours — so unless you give permission, none of my subjects can come barging in without invitation.
[The Fae have little tolerance for such rudeness; a tale of old that just so happens to be true.]
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Turning to look at Oberon, he still struggles to puzzle together an accurate reading of the fairy king. Maybe it was foolish to even bother, but he was someone who appreciated knowing the mindset of the person he was at the mercy of, even if Oberon seemed less and less interested in taking advantage of his servitude.]
Being invited is an important concept to the fae, is it?
Demons are not usually so mindful of their manners.
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[A slight correction as he continues his inspection, toes at the floorboards and glances out the window again; it’s not a rule he need enforce to the letter nowadays, but once upon a time… once upon a time…
A story he doesn’t particularly want to revisit.]
But it is the same for you while you’re visiting my lands; go where you’re not invited, unless given my explicit permission, and…
[A one-shouldered shrug that carries the weight of a thousand unspoken terrors. The demon can connect the dots himself, what might happen if he decides to test his luck.]
— Well, except the Autumn Fairies. They’re allowed to go as they please. You’ll just have to deal with them if you find any in your bed.
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— ah.
His eyes widen, though he's quick to maintain an air of nonchalance.]
I see.
Do you have any advice on how to handle the arrival of Autumn Fairies in someone's bed?
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A cat, when, at the exact moment it spots a rodent poking its head out of a hole, cannot help the playful smack that will take the life a creature that never realized it was already .5 seconds too slow to avoid its fate.
No?
Well, pay no attention to how the king’s eyes dilate, then. Trick of the light from a newly formed window.]
Tribute, of course.
[A finger traced over a vase, then another random piece of decor. Equally nonchalant and musing.]
They love a good blood sacrifice, so long as you clean up the mess after.
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Can I not give them something shiny as a distraction and leave instead?
[A bold alternative, Jinu. Very bold.]
... Or maybe I can tell them that you were looking for them and they're needed immediately...
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[His stare still angled into a corner of the room, the edges of the king’s grin threaten to spill over into sharp mischief]
Well, why don’t you ask them what they want? They’ve been watching you for a bit.
[On the other side of the window, in fact, and found out by their knowing king, the hidden faeries spook into rustling out of sight. Small, chittering voices that speak the language of the flowers and the trees, giggling.
They certainly don’t sound the sort to enjoy sticking their face into bloody entrails, but hey. It’s still up to Jinu to decide if he’s feeling bold; whatever manner of goblin hiding from view won’t come out until he walks closer.]
Don’t keep them waiting! Their curses make even me shudder.