⁝ marketplace.

@❀ han bin Fumes from the detritus of riots weeks prior carried over to the marketplace. The tension between the upper class and lower-class vendors was palpable. Those who harked their wares, decrying struggles, have a melancholy coloring their tone. The usual luster in their demeanor was not reflected in their eyes. Hana felt she was in the liminal state; she was formally a cheonmin—a nobi at that—but she lived amongst the luxury in the Ryu Estate.

Carrying the basket she normally used, she twiddled and shook it gently, the emptiness reminiscent of the breakout of the famine. Like ripples on water evoked by a tossed stone, the residual effects were seen by the dwindling supply of food, or at least food unsullied by the disease.

Sighing softly, she walked away from the stalls in resignation and headed towards the artisan shops. Perhaps merchants in this area were safe from the epicenter of said illness or disease, and they still held goods that she could feast with her eyes.

Whilst lingering by what she assumed to be a ceramic shop, with a row of vases lined up and shelves reserved for porcelain and fine china, Hana sighted a face from afar, one she did not expect to resurface. The doll-like features of his face rang familiar to her, ashamedly. Instead of the cloying sentimentality a maiden reserves for their exes, the dread of recognition filled her mind.

As soon as he waved goodbye to the other ladies, who seemed smitten by his charm, she evaded his gaze by running away from the shop as quickly as she could. Unfortunately, her mind and feet clashed, inevitably causing her to trip and fall. A premonition of her drawing attention from the man only exacerbated her embarrassment, as she continued to lay low instead of facing him bravely with dignity. But how dignified can you be when you tripped over your own two feet?

@❀ park heeryong The performance had come to an eventful end and the crowd began to disperse like ants, but Duan stood there unwavering, eyes locked on the standout dancer. Soon, they rallied with baskets, holding them out to collect any compensation for watching the show. She noticed how not many people had placed any sentiments or regards to the woven baskets. However, she continued to watch as the dancer made his way through the crowd, his smile was sincere with piercing eyes.

Soon, he stood in front of her. Duan couldn’t help but feel curious as he spoke to her, and her face reddened with a soft blush. Was it obvious that she was a foreigner? She contemplated. Despite being far from home, meeting someone who was curious about her origins made her feel a sense of connection. Thankfully, her short stay in Joseon and at Maehwa place had allowed her to brush up on her language skills.

"I am from Siam,” she spoke with a gentleness in her voice. “Your performance was wonderful. Such shows are a rarity in my homeland.”

Then her gaze drifted to the vibrant colors of his costume, admiring the details and design. As her eyes landed on his woven basket, she naturally reached into her pocket, pulling out a few coins, a small allowance she had saved up while doing some chores and labor at the residence.

Placing the small donation into his basket, she said once more, “you danced wonderfully.”

@❃ jung hana It was a bright morning when the hustle and bustle of the marketplace peaked. Bin, often found hunched at the back of the ceramic shop, usually stands outside for a few minutes, watching the people walk by, exchanging pleasantries and conversing about sweet nothings. It was a routine day for Han Bin who was merely enjoying the basic pleasures of daily life in the heart of Hanseong's economy.

During this time, he would frequently strike up conversations with familiar faces. And today, too, he was approached by the ladies who often stop by to admire his new creations. However, as today's wares were not new, he merely offered to engage them in conversation which some people often mistakenly interpret as an act of flirting. (Usually causing trouble for Han Bin, unbeknownst to him.)

He wasn't as dense as most people assume. However, Bin is indeed rather unsure of how things tend to progress when it comes to the topic of love and relationships. He is dense but not exactly inexperienced.

Waving goodbye to the ladies who had already bid him farewell, he let his sight roam once more.

Before briefly doing a double take towards someone who he seems to have caught sight of out of the corner of his eye. However, there was no one there. He whispered, "Was I just imagining things?" It was indeed a long time since he saw her last. It was enough to give Bin a rush as he let his eyes wander around urgently trying to see if his imaginations was really playing tricks on him.

He took a step out and peered around once more, trying to seek out a face that he used to think was the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid his eyes on. "Hana." He whispered in disappointment as he realized he must've seen it wrong.

[post deleted by owner]

@✿ moon jaehoon The shop owner, a skilled embroiderer with years of experience, greeted Yejun with a warm smile as Jaehoon introduced him. Yejun returned the smile, grateful for Jaehoon's assistance in finding the perfect place to personalize his gift. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Baek Yejun," the shop owner said, her voice kind and welcoming. "I'd be honored to assist you with your request. May I know her name and how you would like it to be?"
She gestured for Yejun to follow her to a table adorned with various threads and needles. "Her name is Eun, Seo Eun." he stated while taking a folded paper out of his pocket to give it to the embroiderer to make sure she wrote the right character. "and please write this in the inner side of the bag." he pointed to his nickname for his beloved that's written on the paper.
As the shop owner listened attentively, her nimble fingers moved with precision as she selected the appropriate thread colors and prepared the fabric for stitching. Yejun watched in fascination as she worked, admiring her skill and attention to detail. Once everything was ready, the shop owner began the delicate process of embroidering the name onto the gift, her movements smooth and practiced. Yejun couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building as he watched Eun's name slowly come to life on the fabric.
As the final stitches were made, the shop owner presented the completed embroidery to Yejun with a smile. "There you go, Baek Yejun," she said, handing him the beautifully personalized gift. "I hope it brings joy to the heart of your beloved."
"Thank you. I truly hope so too." He sincerely thanked the shop owner before taking the gift in hand. He then made his payment before bowing to the older lady and turned to the other man, the new friend he had made.
"I'm sorry to make you wait here. Must be boring. In return, allow me to treat you some meal or drinks for introducing me this place." He offered Jaehoon, sincerely wanted to thank the other guy as well.

@❁ hong yeoreum Lord? Oh, now that was rich. Rich like he was not. He had not been a lord for a long time now, and hearing the title felt like a mockery of his former status and glory. To think that he, now bloodied, beaten, and broken, had once been a /lord/. The eldest of his family, on the track to do great things for his country. Funny how all it took was a spark and an easterly wind to ruin all of that. Now he was nothing.

The Go family was kind, and Geon had grown up alongside them. It was that closeness that made his position of bodyguard all the more humiliating. Once equal, friend, turned into a servant. He was no better than a meat shield for the eldest Go brother. Not that Geon thought Miro thought that of him--it was his own disdain hazing his vision, the alcohol brushing the edges with hues of green jealousy and red anger. Geon should be sitting beside Miro as an equal, not standing behind him with a hand on his sword. What had he come to? If they had been reduced to any other class, Geon would feel some spark of hope, some guess that he could claw his way back up. But cheonmin? The odds were stacked against him. Cheonmins stayed cheonmins. They did not make a miraculous recovery and climb their way to the top. That was a thing of fairytales.

"Just Geon is fine," he managed out behind a rueful laugh. "I am lord of nothing and no one. Not anymore. Not for a while." He swayed in the men's arms, grunting. He squinted at the young lady in front of him, attempting to clear the blurriness from his vision. Shaking his head, he focused slightly. Help. Treat his wounds. What kind of fairy had he met today? Perhaps she was a gumiho and would eat him later. All the better.

"Do your worst," he said with a sigh, head hanging down. "Treat me, heal me, then allow me to rejoin my shame once more." The alcohol had made his lips loose today. Usually he kept everything in. He had his siblings to think of, after all. He did not want them seeing him like this--so full of bitterness, of anger. They had all been too young to remember clearly the days before they had fell from grace. But he remembered everything. And he would endure, but only for them. Tomorrow he would perhaps wake up sober with some cuts and would return to his daily life without complaint. Just like always. And this kind soul would perhaps feel like a figment of his imagination.

@✾ duan somsri Another day, another performance. For this one Heeryong had joined a travelling troupe to perform a graceful, vibrant dance. They wore colourful, fluttering fabrics that twirled with each step as they acted out the tale of a hero of war. The crowd cheered and laughed and sighed, engrossed in their storyteller's engaging tale.

People came and went and the story continued on. Some spectators had taken a seat, others lingered only for however long they could before tending to their errands. Heeryong was exhausted, but elated. He loved to perform. He loved the expression on the people's faces, the joy - and the distraction - it brought to their often difficult lives. Knowing that the people who stopped to watch left with a spring in their step made it all worth it.

And then, finally, the final scene begun. Heeryong stepped into the centre of the circle that had naturally formed and threw his arms to the sides. His body spun, layers of thin fabric erupting around him as if illuminating the space around him. Each step was made with purpose and expression, showing his experience. His family had never let him learn dance, naturally, but there was always a way if you truly wanted to. He had been dancing for as many years as that unusual-looking girl in the crowd had most likely lived. She stood out, not just for her delicate feminine face but for her overall features. She did not look like most girls from Joseon and as Heeryong struck his final pose and the dancers around him too came to a rest, he wondered where she was from. Being from a family of traders he had met many a foreigner. He could tell if someone was from here or not.

Heeryong smiled at the crowd and picked up a basket. Some spectators, knowing that now was the time to pay up, quickly fled the scene, others began to rummage in their pockets for anything they could afford to give. Heeryong did not care if people paid or not, but the troupe needed money to eat and to buy a place of rest. He smiled at everyone as he passed them, passing now and then to let people drop a little something into the basket and ended up in front of the girl. Dark, cat-like eyes looked at her with measured curiosity. "Hello.", he greeted simply, a familiar lurch of excitement in the pit of his stomach, "Where are you from?" Ah, how embarrassing it would be if he had gotten it all wrong and she was indeed from Joseon.

@✿ jang ilwoo (can I just say: *SWOONS* omfg)

@❁ hong yeoreum As Yeoreum stumbled over her words, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Ilwoo found himself captivated by her endearing vulnerability. The way she bit her lip and averted her gaze, as if unsure of herself, only added to her allure. It was a rare sight in a world where people often wore masks of confidence and composure, and it drew Ilwoo in like a moth to a flame.

Her bashful demeanor held a charm that seemed to deepen with each passing moment, as if she were revealing a piece of her true self to him in this brief exchange. It was as if she wore her heart on her sleeve, her genuine reaction adding an unexpected depth to their encounter amidst the hustle and bustle of the market.

Her compliment, though unexpected, elicited a soft chuckle from Ilwoo. His smile grew warmer, genuine amusement dancing in his eyes as he responded, "Thank you." His voice, smooth and velvety, carried a hint of playful appreciation at her unexpected flattery. "You certainly know how to make a man feel special."

Observing her hand flying up to hide her embarrassed expression, Ilwoo felt a gentle curiosity stir within him. He longed to unravel the layers of her personality hidden beneath that shy exterior, to understand the thoughts and emotions swirling behind those expressive eyes. "No need to be embarassed," he reassured her, his tone gentle and reassuring. "Your words are like a breath of fresh air in this busy marketplace."

Inwardly, Ilwoo appreciated Yeoreum's boldness in approaching him. He had always been a rake, never one to deny any woman who showed him interest, finding it refreshing and even flattering.

@✿ jang ilwoo Hyunji regarded Ilwoo with a mixture of surprise and gratitude at his offer. She had not expected such kindness from a stranger, especially one with ties to a prestigious clan like the Jang family. Despite her initial reservations, she found herself warming to the idea of accepting his assistance.

"I appreciate your concern, Lord Ilwoo," Hyunji replied, her voice soft but resolute. "I would be grateful for your to the marketplace. It seems I am in need of a guardian angel today." She couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation, the image of a stoic warrior coming to her aid like something out of a folktale.

With a nod of agreement, Hyunji gestured for Ilwoo to lead the way, her maids falling into step behind them as they made their way through the forest. The tension that had hung in the air during the bandit attack began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect between the unlikely pair.

As they walked, Hyunji couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about Ilwoo and his connection to the Jang clan. She knew little about the inner workings of noble families, but she sensed that there was more to his story than met the eye. Perhaps, she thought, their encounter was no mere coincidence, but a twist of fate that had brought them together for a reason.

As they approached the marketplace, Hyunji glanced up at Ilwoo, a grateful smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, Lord Ilwoo," she said sincerely. "Your assistance has been invaluable. I hope we may meet again under better circumstances." Then the servants starts to gather all the fabrics to be brought to her shop. "Would you like to stay for a while and have some cup of tea? I did not mean to bother you if you have something important you must do, but this is the only gratitude I could give for now, Lord Ilwoo." She told her and bows again gently.

@✿ moon hyeongwon "You're too kind, really," she chuckled softly as she tucked the list away for now.

Miyoung wasn't used to having someone accompany her on errand runs. Usually, Suji was busy with her work or with her other obligations and she always offered to send the nobi with a guard, but Miyoung insisted on being on her own. When she was working with her father, she'd always run the errands while he stayed to focus on work. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace had become part of her, a jungle she had conquered as a young girl.

So she easily noticed the careless man barreling towards them, and she was more than prepared to sidestep in order to avoid being bumped into, but she didn't have to - with Hyeongwon stepping in between the two. The action made her chuckle softly to herself, gently patting the marquess on his shoulder. "You know I grew up navigating the marketplace on my own, ever since I was a child, right?," she teased. "But thank you, you're a real gentleman."

Shortly after, they arrived at the jewelry shop and Miyoung watched as Hyeongwon studied the merchandise. He had a keen eye, indeed. She began perusing the finely crafted stones and jewels, trying to decide what would look best with the spring-like hanbok that was being tailored for Suji. Something that would highlight her beauty and bring warmth to her face... and match her peach colored lipstick. Shaking her head to herself, she reminded herself that she shouldn't be so overwhelmed thinking about her Lady like that. It was improper.

Then she noticed a small set of jewelry; a cherry blossom shaped hair clip with matching necklace. The small pink diamonds that made up the blossoms were set within gold that shimmered in the midday sun. The tint of gold would add warmth and the pink matched so well with the pink silk that was selected for Suji's hanbok. Miyoung peered into her coinpurse, making sure she had enough to pay for the accessories. Once she confirmed she had enough, she placed the order with the shopkeeper to package the pieces and have them delivered to the Ahn Estate. Even if she wanted to carry the jewelry home herself, it would be dangerous to do so. Like Hyeongwon said, there were sketchy characters lurking around.

With the order placed, Miyoung looked around the shop and found Hyeongwon, making her way over to where he was and she looked curiously at whatever had his attention. "Something caught your eye?"

@❀ seo hyunwoo Almost immediately, Hyunjung feels a wave of irritation wash over her, which is quite a rarity, really. She is often more cordial when she is under the guise of Jaewoo's identity, but perhaps the assumption that /she/ of all people is a thief has simply rubbed her nerves wrong. She cannot help the frown on her face as she looks up at the man, scoffing through her nose. "I, for the record, am not a scholar, nor am I on the run," she says. "Between the two of us... aren't you the scholar one?" she continues, as she eyes the books that have scattered around. This is quite one of the worst ways to introduce herself to another, even if introducing herself was not exactly part of the plan.

But she's already gone and done it. She thinks she can feel light stinging on a small area of her palm.

At least she's lucky that her headwear isn't thrown off, or else, this would even be bigger than it's supposed to be, though... this man isn't anyone she knows from her day life, so to speak. So she should be safe, even if her disguise does fall through. She won't have to see him again; it isn't as if she meets a lot of people in her day life anyway.

"It isn't my fault you're not looking where you're walking," she mumbles petulantly. But she watches, bewildered, as the stranger shoves coins into his pocket. Instinctively, she's taking a few steps back, staring at the stranger curiously. "Are you trying to make /me/ your errand boy, ahjussi?" she says, and her disbelief is obvious in the way she speaks, eyebrows furrowed.

She isn't giving much of a chance, however, to say anything else, as the book bag is placed upon her hands, and she's being ushered to walk. Should she be worried? A stranger is trying to bring her home, even if her guise is a man—but she isn't /too/ worried, at least. If need be, she can defend herself. Her brother didn't teach her how to fight for nothing.

"You—!" She cuts herself easily, however, when she hears the his name. Seo Hyunwoo... Where has she heard of that name before? It rings a bell of familiarity, but not enough for her to remember anything. She frowns even more, but decides that she isn't going to escape. At least, not yet. She sighs instead, adjusting the book bag in her arms. "I'm Jaewoo," she answers carefully. "I really am not the best candidate for if you want stories, ahjussi. We have the storytellers for that."

@❀ yoo hyunjung He couldn't help but find the situation amusing, especially as the stranger's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hyunwoo chuckled, the sound low and warm in the dimly lit street. "Whoa there, seems someone's got a feisty side." He took a moment to examine the figure before him. The moonlight cast long shadows, obscuring most details, but Hyunwoo couldn't help but notice the way this man's voice seemed to drop an octave when he spoke. It piqued his curiosity.

"Not a thief, huh?" He teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Then perhaps you could explain why you're sprinting through the streets at this ungodly hour, dressed like a..." he trailed off, picking up the books that scattered around, dusting it off too in between, "A scholar on the run?", he continues as he gaze the last book landing the other's feet. He stood up first before extended his hand, giving a glance down once again on this still fiesty figure's feet, sending him a signal that hopefully he understood. Hyunwoo tilted his head, furrowed his eyebrows together when he finally mets the other man's eye properly. He held her gaze for a beat longer, a flicker of something unfamiliar crossing his features. But the darkness and the strangeness of the encounter made him shrug it off.

Hyunwoo lays out the cloth that supposedly secure his book together from flying around. He stack the book once again before tying it up together properly this time, making sure if there is anoter collision with a figure that is smaller than him, it will not once again, flew all over the place. "No need for excuses. Running in the dark streets like this, you're bound to bump into someone sooner or later," he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

"Looks like you're in a hurry", he tilted his head, looking behind this young man for any figure chasing him, in case his impromptu assumption that the man infront of his is truly a thieve. No trace of anyone. He swats himself off before passing the cloth that turns into a bag filled with books towards this other man. He scoops some coins out of his pocket too and shoving it to the other's pocket. "Though," he continued, a hint of a challenge in his voice, "I wouldn't mind hearing your story defending yourself on why you arent a thief and..." Hyunwoo wrap his hand around the other's shoulder, guide them both down the road he supposed to be intially. "Since you bumped into me, you should help me cary all those back to my house. I believe Ive paid you enough. As extra payment for accompanying our walk with your story, I will reward you with some rice wine at home. agree? cool! lets go". It doesnt took Hyunwoo that much strength to push this smaller guy walk together with him. "Hyunwoo by the way, Seo Hyunwoo", he introduce himself, for courtesy.

@❃ na garam The night air seemed to have shifted like the tides as the emotions that drew across the woman opposite him was enough to tell him the tales of her hardship and turmoil. It was true that he only knew what was on the surface from the childhood tales that Myunghee had spun for him some nights. He remembered his late wife’s soft reveries of the life she once knew with the person who is standing in front of him now. It’s uncanny how suddenly, even Suho began to question how much of those memories could stand on their own through the trials of time.

But as the woman snapped at him for referring to her by the only name he had known her by and soon revealed her true name and identity, he could only acknowledge her frustration that sat on her shoulders from years of turning away her grief and loss. Suho, too, knew that feeling all too well.

“Na Garam,” he repeated her name softly, committing it to memory; allowing it to rest on his tongue like a silent whisper or a shared secret between two souls in the stillness of the night.

Suho listened as Garam recounted the tragic events of her life which had led to her this moment, and he could not help but ache with her. The pain and loneliness that lingered within her was a heavy burden that she had carried alone all these years. But, when she expressed her wish that he would not have found her, Suho’s expression softened with concern, but also confusion.

He wondered how many people in this city knew her—truly knew her apart from the shadows and the moonlight away from the fortunes she told and weaved through dreams. How many streets in the capital had held them by the seconds before they walked past each other time and time again, how many flowers had they both looked and adored, how many coins had been passed by his palm, person to person, and landed in hers? Even he, himself, had felt apologetic for only finding her now.

“I understand if my sudden appearance may be intruding in your life, Na Garam,” he said gently. “But please believe me when I say that I only mean well. I could not face Myunghee in the afterlife if I had not been able to find you and give her answers.”

He watched as Garam's expression softened, even if just for a moment, and he wanted nothing more than to ease her burden.

“My family and I would welcome you if you ever need help.” He offered sincerely, “Saebom, my daughter—your niece—she would be overjoyed to have you as an aunt. And my sisters, they would embrace you as one of their own."

He tried to hold her gaze although she avoided his. "Please, let us help you. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

@✿ jang ilwoo Yeoreum was having a great time. She loved handsome men, she loved admiring them and daydreaming about what speaking with them might be like. It was one of her favourite past times and the main culprit behind her frequent crushes. Very rarely she would attempt to strike up a conversation, and even more rarely attempt to pursue them. Ah, but as fate would have it this particular dashing man was steadily strolling closer and closer to where she stood. He was leisurely admiring the joys of the marketplace. He looked so far removed from any worries real people might have. Ah, but that could be Yeoreum's rose-tinted glasses talking.

And then, suddenly, he turned. His deep eyes met hers and Yeoreum... startled. Her body moved by itself, arms drawing closer to her torso, eyes widening, her cheeks darkening. The sudden sway of her upper body made her fumble with her step. Her foot caught on a protruding rock on the ground and she felt herself stumbling. Her lips parted in surprise. She was mortified. Why did she have to trip over a stupid rock right now?!

A split second later a warm hand had grasped her arm. A non-intrusive but firm touch. He was touching her. Yeoreum looked up at the young man, lips still parted slightly. Her heart was beating so quickly she could barely hear anything else. His voice... he even sounded handsome. 'He- he's looking at me!' Not just looking, he was looking at her so gently, so earnestly. Yeoreum couldn't help but sink into those deep eyes. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink now. "Y- yes!", she stuttered and glanced down at her feet bashfully, only for her gaze to dart back up to meet his once more. "Thank you..."

'Come on. Say something witty, something charming. Say something. Don't let him just leave!'

"I- You're so handsome!"

'NO! Why! Why did you say that!?!'

Yeoreum's hand flew up to hide her embarrassed and shocked expression.

@❀ han bin Panic is evident in the way Hyunjung runs, careful despite her speed, with a ceramic vase clutched within her arms. It is cold, and her nose and cheeks are painted a rather painful shade of crimson. She barely realizes that she isn't dressed appropriately for the season, days having turned into winter as the end of the year approaches. She isn't even dressed in her usual attire during the night, merely clad in what she's worn since morning and what she's brought to work.

But that is of no matter, especially when her mind is filled with panic, an urgency. The vase in her hands has been... cracked, to say the least, with a piece of it broken and now placed inside of it. She isn't certain if this can still be fixed, but she'd be damned if she doesn't even try.

Soon enough, she reaches a familiar ceramic shop. And right as she's about to knock, the door opens, revealing a face that she never thought she'd be so relieved to see. (She almost tears up, just a little, but she will never acknowledge that.)

"Han Bin!" she calls rather breathlessly, and she takes a deep, shaky breath, before she's holding the vase towards him, bowing almost immediately. "Please—Please fix this for me."

@❀ kim hyunji As Hyunji shared her connection to Hyukjae, Ilwoo's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. His brows furrowed slightly, surprised to learn that his brother had shared a significant part of his life with someone outside of the Jang clan, someone he barely knew. Tension had always simmered between them, and Hyukjae had rarely divulged much about his personal affairs, leaving Ilwoo to wonder about the life his brother led beyond their family's confines.

The revelation ignited a spark of curiosity within Ilwoo, a desire to uncover more about Hyukjae's experiences and the people he had encountered. "Perhaps one day I should too patronize your shop," Ilwoo suggested with a playful tone, his lips quirking into a small smile as he saw Hyunji's own smile in response. "But you'll make something good for me, like what you had for my brother." He quipped with a hint of jest. He imagined the memories they shared must have been precious, each one a glimpse into Hyukjae's life outside of the rigid expectations of their clan.

Ilwoo couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at Hyukjae's mention of the Jang clan during his interactions with Hyunji. Knowing how their family treated Hyukjae, who often felt overshadowed by their other brothers, Ilwoo wondered if Hyukjae had ever mentioned him, the overlooked middle child, to his acquaintances. It was a revelation that left him pondering the complexities of his brother's life and the relationships he had formed beyond their home.

Reflecting on the unlikely turn of events that had brought him and Hyunji together, Ilwoo couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their encounter than met the eye. It was as if fate had orchestrated their meeting, weaving together their lives in ways they could not have anticipated.

As they prepared to part ways, Ilwoo felt a sense of responsibility towards Hyunji's safety. "Although the bandits are gone, I fear they may return," he admitted, his concern evident in his voice. "Would you allow me to you to your destination?" His offer was genuine, a testament to his commitment to ensuring her well-being even beyond the immediate threat they had faced together.

@❀ yoo hyunjung Lost in his craft, Bin has always ended up closing the business rather late. It gets him in trouble with the clan's head servant, but it was already a typical occurrence for Han Bin to become so lost in his trade while his hands were getting dirtied and busy molding. It was a job that required turning off the noise in one's thoughts and focusing solely on the task at hand to properly create the shape he desired.

As he trudged towards the sink to wash his hands, he looked out the window and saw the bright, shining moon. It was a starless night, and he immediately knew what kind of repertoire the head servant would discuss once he got to the manor. He never takes it to heart as the head servant only ever wants to look out for him. Even in his youth, he's been one to be worried about after all.

"Young Master!" One of their manor's servants pushed open the curtains of the workshop in a hurry. "The head servant will have my head on a silver platter if you do not hurry home!" The anguish on the man's face caused Bin to erupt into light laughter. "Hong Dan, you worry too much. I shall be headed home in a moment. I will blow off the torches, and you may come back to lock up once I do." Bin gives the older man an affectionate grin. "I promise. You may go tend to your other duties." The other male released a long sigh before bowing once and heading out of the shop. 

He turned to clean up after himself, ultimately emerging out of his favorite space. Han Bin gave one last glance around the shop before blowing out the light fixtures, carrying his own small flambeau, and pushing the shop's door open, ready to head home for the night.

@❀ park heeryong In this foreign land, everything at the marketplace was fascinating to Duan. From the items that were on display in stalls, to the various traders and shoppers that swarmed the pathways, the young Siamese girl often enjoyed going for daily walks just to blend in with the crowd.

But, today was unlike other days. She heard music and laughter that weaved through the crowd. Like a curious kitten, she followed until she reached a clearing where a small audience had gathered around a makeshift stage. The decorations drew colorful banners that fluttered in the breeze as a troupe of performers dressed in costumes moved in rhythm to the music.

Duan watched with wide-eyed wonder as acrobats soared through the air as musicians played melodies across strings and drums. And at the center of it all, was a storyteller who wove a heroic tale. She could not decipher the words of his story due to the language barrier, but as the crowd erupted into applause and cheers, Duan found herself following along. In Siam, such performances were rare and reserved for royalty and festivities, but here in Joseon, the people seemed to enjoy these impromptu performances.

Then, a dancer caught her eyes. Clad in vibrant silk robes that swirled around like a kaleidoscope of colors, the dancer moved with grace and beauty. Every step and gesture was a mesmerizing spell that captivated the audience.

@❀ moon jinhee For a brief moment, seonhye saw a flash of sadness that lingered in her best friend’s eyes, and despite wanting to comfort jinhee, she knew it was much better if such sorrows weren’t brought up. Yet, at the mention of heejin’s name, Seonhye sees the opposite, a warmth that settled on Jinhee’s visage and she could not help but to release a soft chuckle. She couldn’t help but to wonder when her best friend would ever admit the feelings she held for the other? Or if any of them would. She prayed and hoped. But only time would tell.

“Heejin? I haven’t seen that pretty lady in a while.” ‘but i thought you might have’ The young marchioness wants to add, a little knowing grin on her face. “She is the busiest out of the three of us. But you see her often, huh?” Seonhye continues in a teasing tone as she sipped on her tea.

“but what have you been up to recently, jinhee-ya? I’ve been meaning to find you, but you know, the usual.” Seonhye shrugs a little. “mama has been crazy excited about this wedding”’not me’ those words lingered on the tip of her tongue before she continued with much amusement. “it’s as if she’s marrying duke cha instead of me.”

@❀ seo hyunwoo Sneaking out of the Yoo manor had been easy. It was as easy as breathing as this point of Hyunjung's life, having done this since she was but a mere teenager, and her father had never been any wiser when it came to her little nightly escapades. This was something she would never understand. She was an adult, already four years into the marriageable age, but her father would still forbid her from... well, simply learning more of the world, exploring. As freely as she would want. She understood the urge to protect, but she was grown, was she not?

And so, she explored the world the only way she knew—in a skin that was not hers, with a name that was not born with.

Clad in an attire intended for men, Hyunjung now adorned the face of a man made from lies: Jaewoo. Jaewoo, unlike Hyunjung, was /free/. He was held down by nothing, not a name, not a clan, nor a responsibility to adhere and conform to what society had asked of the world. He was simply Jaewoo, a man who wished to enjoy the world without shackles. It was almost laughable, how he knew more of the world than Hyunjung ever did, when Hyunjung walked this world much longer than he had.

(He was everything Hyunjung yearned to be.)

Now Hyunjung was running through the streets, rushing to a place that she had agreed with a drunken friend to meet. She had left the Yoo manor late tonight, with her father having decided to give her a long lecture about her recent behaviors, words that had entered on one ear and gone out the other. These were the words she had heard time and time again, so much that she was certain she could recite his words one by one with ease. She was twenty-five, an adult, and yet her father still held such a strong grip on the way she lived her life.

She hated it.

Running felt like freedom, felt like leaving the only world she knew, and perhaps it shouldn't feel as liberating as it was. Even just the idea of it made her crave for something she could only dream of.

(How long until her father let her go?)

With how deep she was in her thoughts, focusing only on the sound of her feet against the ground, she hadn't noticed the figure that emerged from one side of the street she was supposed to be in. She had only realized a little too late, when she was a mere few steps within colliding, and she couldn't pause her steps in time—

—the collision was painful when she hit the figure, solid as a rock. The next thing she knew, she was down on the ground, knees and palms aching as her head pounded with lightheadness from the sudden movements. She blinked repeatedly, trying to focus her sight properly when her gaze found its way to the hand extended to her. Her eyes moved upwards then, meeting the stranger's gaze—it was a face that was unfamiliar (she knew, but something tugged in the back of her mind that those eyes were rather familiar).

"You—" She started, voice deepening almost naturally that sounded much like a boy. "Do you not look where you go?" But she paused, realization dawning upon her, and it painted all over her face. With a rosy color painting over her cheeks, she averted her gaze, and took the man's hand almost reluctantly. "Though I suppose it's also my fault, for running," she said, clearing . "And! For the record, I am /not/ a thief, or whatever criminal you think I am."

@✿ jang ilwoo Hyunji's expression softened at Ilwoo's modest response, appreciating his humility despite his evident skill. His acknowledgment of the years of training behind his archery prowess only deepened her respect for him, recognizing the dedication and discipline required to achieve such proficiency.

As Ilwoo confirmed his identity as Jang Ilwoo, Hyunji's interest was piqued, her curiosity growing at the mention of the esteemed Jang clan. Though she had heard of them in passing, she knew little of their members beyond their reputation for martial prowess and honor.

However, it was Ilwoo's mention of Hyukjae that truly captured Hyunji's attention, her eyes widening slightly in surprise at the revelation. The connection between them suddenly took on a deeper significance, shedding new light on their encounter amidst the chaos of the marketplace.

"I see," Hyunji replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of emotion. "Yes, I knew Hyukjae. He was a dear friend of mine—a frequent patron of my shop, in fact." She paused, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she reminisced about the fond memories she shared with Hyukjae. "He often spoke highly of his family, though he rarely mentioned his own involvement in it."

"However, he do share a lot to his friends about my shop. It is surprising for someone like him, from a renowned family, patronizing my shop as he was fond of my linens and clothing that I made for him." She chuckles a bit.

Hyunji's gaze softened as she regarded Ilwoo, a newfound understanding coloring her perception of the man before her. "It seems our paths have crossed in more ways than one," she remarked, a hint of warmth in her tone. "Thank you, Ilwoo, for coming to my aid today. Your bravery and skill saved not only my life but also the livelihoods of many others."

@❀ kim hyunji As Ilwoo approached Hyunji, his heart swelled with a mix of emotions—satisfaction, pride, and a deep-seated sense of duty. Her genuine gratitude and relief were like balm to his soul, affirming that his actions had indeed made a difference in the face of danger. Despite the chaos that had unfolded, there was a calmness that settled over him, a reassurance that he had fulfilled his duty as a protector.

Her words of thanks resonated within him, warming him to the core with their sincerity. "I am truly glad to see you unharmed," Ilwoo replied, his voice steady and his gaze unwavering as he returned her nod of appreciation. Though the rigors of battle were not unfamiliar to him, the thought of leaving someone defenseless against such ruthless bandits stirred a sense of responsibility within him that he could not ignore.

Modesty colored his response to Hyunji's admiration for his skill with the bow. "It is a skill honed through years of training," he humbly acknowledged. Yet, beneath his modesty, there was a swell of pride at her praise, a recognition of the importance of his abilities in protecting those in need. The recognition he would never get from his own family.

The mention of the Jang clan brought a flicker of surprise to Ilwoo's eyes, quickly masked by composed demeanor. "Yes," he confirmed with a respectful nod. "I am Jang Ilwoo, third son of the Jang clan."

Hyukjae's name stirred a complex mix of emotions within Ilwoo—fondness, regret, and a lingering sense of loss. "Hyukjae was... my eldest brother," he replied, his voice tinged with a bittersweet melancholy. Though his brother's absence weighed heavily on his heart, there was also a deep sense of pride in the legacy that Hyukjae had left behind as much as he was told never to recognise him as a true Jang.

As Hyunji introduced herself, Ilwoo couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity about this woman who had crossed his path in such extraordinary circumstances. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Kim," he said with a respectful bow, his demeanor reflecting his sincerity. "And please, there is no need for formalities between us. In this moment, we are allies, bound by a shared experience."

"You were an acquaintance of my brother?"

@❀ yoo hyunjung [right before winter when Hyunwoo just arrived]

As Hyunwoo journeyed back to his homeland after years abroad, the golden hues of autumn painted the landscape in hues of amber and gold. The familiar scent of home hung in the air as he raced towards his grandparents' manor, the rhythmic pounding of hooves on earth echoing the urgency in his heart. Reunited with his beloved cousin, eunjeong, he savoured the warmth of their embrace, a balm to his weary soul. But amidst the laughter and shared memories, a solemn duty called to him.

Excusing himself from their evening tea, Hyunwoo made his way to the serene graveyard where his parents lay at rest. Next to them resting his grandparents peacefully too, he beams a soft smile as the last fond memory he had with the figures who took his hand flashed through his mind. Both of his grandparents raised him as best as they could even tho their hands were frail. The setting sun cast long shadows, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of time. Kneeling before their gravestones, he made a silent vow to seek justice for their untimely demise, the gravity of his oath hanging heavy in the crisp autumn air.

Turning away from the somber scene, Hyunwoo made another stop that he had been dreading throughout his journey home. The house where he was supposed to see his beloved parents grow old together left abandoned soon after that night. He expected it to look haunted but, seemingly, it was not just him who was eager to preserve the memories that the house had left. He makes mental notes to thank his lovely cousin for continuing his grandparents' efforts in preserving the house. He slowly stepped foot into the once-familiar corridors through the garden, the same way he always did in his adolescent age, the room seemed to whisper tales of bygone days, memories woven into the very fabric of the walls. He ended his steps right before his parents' study, he felt a pang of nostalgia tug at his heartstrings. Inside, he found solace in the weathered pages of his father's journal and his mother's cherished book of poetry, each word a testament to their enduring love.

As the moon rose high in the night sky, casting a soft glow over the landscape, Hyunwoo sat on the balcony, lost in the tender embrace of his parents' words. But as he gathered his resolve to embark on his quest for truth, his thoughts turned to the practicalities of his mission. With a determined glint in his eye, he gathered a bag full of books, each volume a potential clue in unravelling the mystery of his parent's murder. He immediately fleet the house with the bag made of blanket he found at the study room.

Lost in a strategic daydream of how to smuggle his investigative loot past eunjeong watchful eyes, Hyunwoo tripped over his own thoughts. His attention wavered, his mind drifting aimlessly. Unaware of his surroundings, he missed his turn not once, but twice, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, a collision sent him crashing to the ground. Sprawled on the dusty road, surrounded by scattered books, he found himself staring at a figure surprisingly short but undeniably solid. Shame knocked his stomach making him feel twice worse than he already do. How could such a compact frame have launched him like a ragdoll?

"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his backside. "Did the ground suddenly turn to granite?" he spoke to himself.

Brushing himself off, Hyunwoo extended a hand, a playful smirk on his lips. "Well, that was quite the entrance," he remarked, unable to suppress a chuckle. "You must have quite the strength to knock me over like that. Are you perhaps a nimble thief fleeing from the guards?" he teased.

[post deleted by owner]

@✿ jang ilwoo Hyunji regarded Ilwoo with a mixture of surprise and relief as he approached, his presence commanding and reassuring in equal measure. Despite the chaos and danger that had unfolded around them, there was an air of calm about him, a sense of strength and determination that instilled a sense of trust.

As Ilwoo's gaze met hers, Hyunji felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. Here was a stranger, a man she had never met before, risking life and limb to come to her aid. It was a gesture she would not soon forget, one that spoke volumes about his character and integrity.

"I am unharmed, thank you," Hyunji replied, her voice steady despite the lingering adrenaline coursing through her veins. She offered Ilwoo a small nod of appreciation, her eyes reflecting the depth of her gratitude.

"Your skill with the bow is impressive," she added, her tone tinged with admiration. "You saved us both from a dire fate. I am in your debt."

Though Hyunji was not one to easily trust others, there was something about Ilwoo's demeanor that put her at ease. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, his actions speaking volumes about his character.

"You said earlier you are from Jang clan, was it?" she asked, seeking confirmation of his name. "I am Kim Hyunji, of the House of Camellia. Your timely intervention has saved not only my life but also my livelihood. I cannot thank you enough." She said as she bowed at him, rarely to see Hyunji respectful towards men as she finds them unlikeable most of the time. "My guess is you might be related to Hyukjae-ssi, perhaps?"

Despite the chaos and danger that had unfolded, there was a sense of camaraderie between them, forged in the heat of battle. In Ilwoo, Hyunji had found an unexpected ally, one she knew she could trust to stand by her side in times of need. And for that, she was truly grateful.

@✿ seol riah Sungha eyed the approaching officers, debating between running or just letting them haul him away. He was a bit tired and didn't eat enough at lunch, so he decided to let them drag him away. The worst they would do was fine him and give him a chiding, after all. Though if he really wanted to make things interesting, maybe he could goad one of the officers into punching him or something. Their egos were always so fragile, and they never regarded people like Sungha as actual human beings.

As the men came closer, they began reaching for Sungha, grabbing him by the upper arms and pulling them behind his back. Sungha began laughing, unable to hold himself back any longer. The sound was loud, manic, full of real mirth. The officers glanced at each other in concern, noting his bleeding hand, still dripping and coating his fingers with red. But Sungha paid them no mind as they talked to each other, asking him questions. He ignored them, keeping his eyes on the pretty tigress.

"My name?" he echoed as he was pulled away, the officers aiming to just get him out of the market and be done. Sungha was laughing so much it was hard to get words out. Oh, how he wanted to turn, to slip the blade hidden in his sleeve at his wrist. He could get a few good jabs into the officers, break free, go back to the lovely flower demanding his name. But Mother Bang wouldn't be pleased.

Sungha fought through the laughter pealing from his lips. "My name is Bang Sungha!" he called, finally making the words out. He shouldn't have let the guards know his real name. Well--Sungha wasn't his /real/ real name, but it was his name these days. Besides, letting the tigress know was much more important. Very worth it, he decided mentally. His laughter died down to him singing a song, something raunchy the men at the taverns enjoyed singing when they got drunk. The officers shoved him down once they reached the outskirts of the market, looks of disgust on their face that only made Sungha sing louder.

After the usual warnings and insults, he was on his way home. But he couldn't stop thinking about her. He glanced down at his palm, the bleeding mostly stopped. His eyes flashed as he reached down to dig his thumb into the wound, a sigh of bliss leaving him at the bite of pain, the warmth of his blood spilling again. What a lovely day he'd had.

@✿ cha seonhye (née chae) The blush on her friend's cheeks caused a small grin to curve up on Jinhee's lips. Of course she was aware of her friend's feelings, but she certainly loved teasing the newly engaged woman. It was simply how their friendship worked. They were often playful, always teasing each other about little things. It was a friendship that Jinhee had with no one else, and she loved how young she felt when she spent time with this particular friend.

"Believe me, I'm fully aware of the act of falling in love," Jinhee teased, pushing back the faint tinge of pain at the remembrance of her lost husband. But before the sadness in her heart could grow, her friend mentioned another name to her that made her stop in her tracks. An affectionate warmth settled into her chest instead at the thought of Kang Heejin. It was a feeling she had trouble describing, but the thought of the woman brought her a happiness she hadn't experienced for a long time.

"Heejin? We do see each other quite often these days... Have you seen her recent, Seonhye-ah?" she asked, curious to know if there was something that Seonhye knew about Heejin that Jinhee hadn't heard.

@❃ bang sungha Riah half expected the man to wince in pain, or at least show some discomfort, but he seemed to relish it instead. "What an interesting man," she quipped to herself. When the countess drew blood, the ladies beside her gasped and looked away, unable to bear the sight of the crimson that now decorated the stranger's palm. Fortunately for Riah, she was far from a typical young lady, and fortunately for him, she was now intrigued. She must know his name, and everything about him. He would become her new fixation—a distraction from her lackluster studies and the plaguing thoughts that haunted her.

"What a little tigress," his comment elicited a genuine laugh from Riah, breaking months of solemnity. Who would have guessed a stranger would compare her to her house's emblem? What a coincidence, she thought to herself. If she was a tigress—poised and ready to strike—the man before her resembled a wild tiger: rough around the edges, yet with undeniable potential, at least in Riah's eyes.

"And you are as bold as you are unique," she responded, perhaps a touch shamelessly, momentarily forgetting the crowd that encircled them, addressing him as if they were the sole occupants of their shared space.

As if things couldn't improve further, the performer then brought the bloodied blade to his lips and proceeded to his own blood. This gesture earned a raised eyebrow from the countess and a prompt clap from her hands, though she noticed she was the lone applauder. What was amiss? Surely, it was rather amusing? Glancing around, she realized even some of the men grimaced at the act. "Lackluster fools," she remarked to herself before returning her attention to the man who now held a silk handkerchief to his bleeding hand.

The blood droplets resembled delicate rose petals as they stained the cloth. Riah believed this to be his 'magic' trick, but when he unfurled it to reveal a bloodied Mugunghwa, the countess' eyes sparkled with delight.

A wide smile tugged at the corners of as she graciously accepted the exquisite flower. It would serve as a memento of their fleeting encounter, and the ensuing conversation would imprint her sense of self. Strangely, her revelation would manifest through a blood-stained performer. She was Seol Riah of House Tiger. Dwelling in her heartbreak did not suit her; she was as cruel as she was beautiful, with a penchant for collecting all things captivating.

"They're always sharp. But thank you for the reminder.... your name?" She asks but before they could exchange even more words, the officers would come to break up the crowd and make way for the one who caused the commotion. Riah's guard would come closer but she would refuse to leave. Not yet. Not until she learns his name.

@✿ seol riah Sungha watched the girl as she took the blade and--ah. The bite of the blade was heavenly. Sungha had to bite his lower lip, eyes alight with delight. She didn't even hesitate, didn't flinch at the blood. And the pressure of the blade, the decisive motion...she was used to weapons. Oh how /exquisite/. Sungha's grin came back. "What a little tigress," he murmured with appreciation. "You know how to use your claws. I do adore such a quality."

Now he would have to make things extra special for her, for doing this for him. He would be thinking about that knife slipping across his palm for /weeks/. He hoped it would scar. Sungha took the blade from her with his non-bleeding hand, looking her in the eye as he slid his tongue along the metal, the blood clean. Would that scare her? Would she shy away from that too? Or would she just keep looking at him like that, waiting? Sungha hadn't had this much fun in a long, long time.

Part of him craved to see what fear would look like in her eyes, but he needed to pull himself back down to earth. He was performing, and there was a crowd, and she likely had a chaperone nearby. Oh, and the officers were coming closer, their eyes locking in on him. He would have to make things quick. What a shame.

Sungha tucked the blade away, producing a white silk handkerchief instead. "And now..." he said, voice soft and only for her. "Now, the magic starts." He wrapped the silk around his bleeding hand, going around twice but not bothering to tie it off so the bleeding would slow. Instead, he let the silk soak up his blood, staining the fibers bright red. The color was always so much lovelier contrasted against white. A soft sigh escaped the performer as he admired it before he reached for the handkerchief again.

Sungha unwrapped the cloth, and as the last corner left his skin, he folded the fabric back and revealed a mugunghwa. The flower, usually white or pink and ringed with red around the middle, was entirely red. It was his favorite color, after all. And much better matched the color of his blood, dripping around the stem of the flower as he held it out to the lady with a smile. "For the tigress," he said. "Do not ever forget how to use your claws. Keep them sharp, and keep them ready."