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Desiderium

mind palace

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a part of Desiderium, by Korruption.

None

Korruption holds sovereignty over mind palace, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

1,004 readers have been here.

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Default Location for Desiderium
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mind palace is a part of Desiderium.

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begonia [0] a shade of pink, named after the flower begonia.
sang-de-boeuf [0] considered to be a dark shade of red; resembles burgundy with more purple and dark brown hues.
chamois [0] the traditional color of chamois leather.
sienna [0] the color of sienna pigment (yellowish brown or deep reddish brown).
eburnean [0] as white as ivory; off-white.
amaranthine [0] a purplish-red color.
celadon [0] a grayish-yellow green.
verdigris [0] a bluish-green color found in a pigment that forms on copper, bronze, or brass.
incarnadine [0] a bright crimson or pinkish-red color.
coquelicot [0] a shade of bright red with an orange tint.

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XX Kanayama Takashi xx#e7a769

text here


XX
if needed (as in, u don't have a timeskip) just delete previous section starting from the [/ color] to the [color =black]

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ImagexxxImagexxxImagexxxjisun yeong xxx影 地仙

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Jisun watched silently as Anastasia tried to pick up a fishcake. The first attempt failed, but the second . . . wasn't bad. Jisun was rather surprised at how quickly Anastasia learned, but then again, she never really had to teach anyone around her how to use chopsticks; she wasn't sure what the baseline was.

Jisun sampled various side dishes as she waited for the meat to come out, her gaze flickering upward at Anastasia when the other woman's phone rang. Jisun only shrugged when Anastasia apologized briefly, glancing at the food on the table to give the other girl the veneer of privacy.


Ah, Leo, Jisun's mind hummed when she heard the name slip out of Anastasia's lips. Jisun didn't consider herself to be very invested in romance, but she supposed that Anastasia's arranged marriage interested her. It wasn't really a practice that was exerted in her own adopted family, or in their close circles. Business deals were important, of course, but they rarely involved marriage, from what Jisun had seen. Marrying into another prominent family in one's field would be akin to merging their companies, and many families weren't interested in that at all.

Yoonseok had come over at some point during Anastasia's phone call, setting down the bulgogi and samgyeopsal and departing with a small wave in Jisun's direction. Jisun was faintly fond of Yoonseok, which she knew was something that would come as a surprise to essentially everyone who was familiar with her stony demeanor. But Yoonseok was like the mild sunlight of cloudless, late afternoon -- warming, but not too intrusive. His presence was pleasant.

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WORK-IN-PROGRESS
RELATIONS / NPCS

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n a m e ;; xfull name here
a g e ;; xhere ( # )
g e n d e r ;; xF/M/NB
r o l e ;; xhere
p l a y e r ( s ) ;; xhere
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desc. here

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ImagexxxImagexxxImagexxxyael yahalom xxxיעל יהלום

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Yael couldn't help the burning shame as she watched Bernadette open the taxi app and hand Yael her phone. Yael hated that she was in this position -- she would do practically anything to avoid it, but she knew she had no other choice. It was too far to walk -- and even if she did want to walk, Yael doubted that Bernadette would let her go. And as bold as Yael was, she was not going to fucking hitchhike; that was as bad as asking Bernadette for money anyway.

"Oh, I'll pay you back," Yael insisted forcefully, before adding, "Thanks for all you're doing, Bernadette. Unless you need to be here, you can head back home to see your dad. I'm sure he needs you there."

Yael obliged when Bernadette asked her to enter her number into the other woman's phone. "You probably don't need the money though," Yael continued. "I can take you out for a meal instead. My treat."

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life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.


#4e817dXXX#ba982d
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"I've only ever had oji-chan, really," Seongjae mentally gave himself serious whiplash when Kenji started talking, "which sounds dumb, because I have oba-sama, and my parents and Kaori, but . . . we've never been close. I know nothing about what they like, or how they go about their lives . . . they're strangers, to me."

Honestly, Seongjae couldn't relate to that -- beyond having his mother as essentially his only family member, Seongjae also tried to make friends wherever he went. No, Seongjae couldn't relate to what Kenji was saying, but he could try to understand -- after all, they were friends, now . . . right?

"I've always picked up magic easily, and kids my age would be intimated or jealous. Which was fine, because I had oji-chan. All I ever wanted was to impress him. To make him proud of me. But now... it feels like I'm lost, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I sit here every day, doing his job, and nothing changes. I never feel any less hollow."

When Kenji turned to finally make eye contact, Seongjae was shaken -- this was the first time he could look into the rolling depths and the swirling colors in Kenji's eyes for more than a flicker of a moment. "I envy you, a little. You had no one, lost everything, and yet, you're so much more adjusted. You kept on living, finding happiness. I'm not sure I can."

The first thing Seongjae felt after Kenji's speech was being taken aback by utter shock. Seongjae assumed that he would be walking out of this meeting, cringing with shame and embarrassment.

The second thing was understanding, and an overwhelming urge to reassure the other man.


"It's important not to compare yourself with other people, especially when it comes to loss," Seongjae said adamantly. "We're all different, and we all have different experiences.

"And Kenji-san? I know it seems like I have no one left, but just because I lost both of my parents doesn't mean I lost everything. Personally, I'm a really social person, so I'm lucky enough to have a large support system. And honestly, I feel like how much you lose . . . it's not determined by how much you physically have left -- it's just something you feel. And I believe that what you feel isn't really determined by objective factors, like how many family members you have left, or how much money you have, or how good you are at something. If you're grieving over someone you were really close to, of course your feeling is justified -- it's is completely okay to feel like you've lost everything, even if you don't think you lost everything objectively, because maybe the person you lost was everything to you.

"And I know I seem well-adjusted to people. Heck, some people don't even believe me when they learn that I lost my parents -- I just seem so happy to them, which I'm kinda glad to hear from them, since it's something I constantly try to be. But believe me, I was an absolute wreck in the beginning -- I didn't recover from my mother's death immediately, and I still don't think I'm fully recovered. Her death . . . will always be a part of my life. But it's important to not have someone's death be your entire life. At least, that's what my counselor told me, haha. It was really nice to have someone there to help me through it, even if she was paid. I don't think I could've gotten out of my slump on my own."

Seongjae turned to make eye contact with Kenji, smiling softly. "If you want, I'd be glad to help you out. Having someone there really does do a lot. After all, a tree that's falling over can't right itself up on its own. That was also something my therapist said . . . I'm not as wise as her yet. But it would really make me happy if I could do for you what someone else did for me." Seongjae grinned, but not as aggressively as he did before. Now that I've gone through enough traumatic experiences of fruitlessly trying to befriend him, I should tone it down to match Kenji's style (҂ ͡-₃ ͡-)ᕤ

"My first piece of advice -- and this comes free of charge," Seongjae said cheekily, "is to know that the people we love are always with us in our hearts. And I know, that is literally the cheesiest thing I could've said, but it's true; after my mom passed, I felt absolutely horrible about myself. I thought of her death at every moment, and how I wasn't good enough to keep her here. I started losing motivation, because the person I tried to work my hardest for was gone. But after a lot of time, and a lot of help, I finally began to understand that even if I couldn't keep my mother here, she would still want me to achieve my goals and to chase after whatever makes me happy. I guess that's why I have such stupidly high dreams -- I know necromancy and that kind of stuff are way out of my skill level right now, but I want to chase after it. And every time I start to feel lost, or every time I start to think I don't deserve this -- I just think of what my mother would really want. Because her desire for me to be happy didn't disappear when she died. And if there's an afterlife, and if she's watching me from up there, I want her to look at me and find the joy she couldn't find when she was alive.

"Kenji-san, your grandfather sounds like a good man. I'm positive that someone you loved so much would've wanted for you to be happy. And don't be too hard on yourself, okay? This stuff takes time and a looooot of effort sometimes, but it's truly worth it."

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anastasia & jisun
XXXXIVANOV XXXXXXXXXXXX YEONG

#6c0102 / #0064b4
#d0a9a0 / #cb3254


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PSYC 170 (Tuesday and Thursday, 8:30am-10:00pm), PHIL 277 (Monday, Wednesday, 12:00pm-1:00pm), CRIM 270 (Tuesday and Thursday, 10:30am-12:00pm), PSYC 149, MGT 166, ECON 036

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yael & bernadette
YAHALOM XXXXXXXXXXX DUBOIS XXXXXxX

#c5bea2 / #98942e
#9c6420 / #623821


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"For her- what would you like?"

"I'll have a glass of champagne, thanks." Yael jumped at a chance to drink when it came knocking.

Yael listened to what Bernadette had to say, thanking the server again when he returned and knocking back the champagne in one go. She quickly noticed the other woman taking a painkiller with her glass of water.


"Yeah, I get that," Yael responded. "If it were me, I definitely would be putting my name out there. But, I don't know, I guess some people like to separate their art life from everything else." Yael gestured to Bernadette's purse, in reference to the medication she took earlier. "You alright?"

Bernadette raised an eyebrow when she saw Yael take the drink in one go. She didn’t care whether Yael had zero or twenty drinks but it reminded her of beers served in red cups at college parties. The action seemed both fitting and out of place in an art exhibit.

The ones in the most expensive suits, very proper at the beginning of the night and ready to ramble on about the composition of the art, tended to have one drink too many and sometimes ended up buying a painting or doing something else that they would regret the next day. Much like what she saw go down at parties and, since the general population at Olympus had money, no one cheaped out on drinks.

The similarities in behavior between college parties and high-end events could be rather amusing.


“Yes,” she answered, putting her glass on the tray of a passing server, “I just need a smoke.”

She smokes? Yael was rather surprised -- Bernadette seemed like the kind of person who'd be a little uptight, the kind of person who wouldn't know how to let loose. Then again, the more she thought about it, Yael could definitely picture the other woman smoking. She's French, right? Europeans do smoke a lot.

"I feel like I should say something like, 'don't smoke, you could get lung cancer,'" Yael said wryly, "but hey, go ahead. We're here for a good time, not a long one."

Before Bernadette could respond, Yael felt the vibrating of her phone in her pocket. She glanced at the notification, pausing when she saw that it wasn't a drunken message from one of her friends. They closed the line I took to get here . . . and they closed the best alternate line I could've taken. Goddamnit.

Yael shoved her phone back in her pocket with a sigh, glancing back up at Bernadette. Suddenly, she was struck with an idea.

"The subway line I take to get back to campus just closed. Could I possibly hitch a ride with you?" Yael was not one to ask for help unless she really had to, so what she was doing had her just the slightest bit disgruntled. At least I'm saving money on that subway fare.

Yael’s comment definitely pulled a string at her heart, the kind to harden it up and unsettle her all at the same time. She knew the effects of smoking and was constantly confronted with the image of damaged lungs in her cigarette packets, of course, but her father had never smoked a day in his life and here they were. It was certainly not a life made for regrets.

However, the comment did nothing more to her facial expression than cause her to raise an eyebrow and lower her eyes to Yae’ls empty glass for a moment. She might have replied with something but Yael continued talking about a ride.

Normally, after a comment like that, Bernadette would have simply said no but it was dark outside and Bernadette wasn’t heartless.


”I suppose,” Bernadette said with a small nod. ”I don’t plan on being here much longer though.”

Yael grinned. She wasn't sure if Bernadette would have said yes -- the other woman didn't really seem like an overly generous person to her -- so Yael was glad that it worked out. "Brilliant! And that's all right, we can go whenever you'd like. I saw what I came for."