Squinting his eyes up at the man before him hajoon scowls at the mention of the other calling the police, as if they would come here and do anything about a plant thief. A plant thief who, by the way, was saving these sad looking plants from a life of misery. He had only sent out to do a good deed for a stubborn old man with to much pride and now he was being questioned by a stranger he didn’t even know lived on his floor. This was not what he had in mind for the night when he still had a project deadline to meet. He was feeling quite offended.
Taking a step back making space between the two, ready to tell the other as such he suddenly realizes what the other had actually been saying. He had seen hajoon.
“What do you mean you saw me? Just now? and why would you call the police. These plants are mine, i’m going to put them in the nursery” grumbling softly under his breath slightly annoyed, he frowns down at the floor. “what are you doing in the hallway anyway? jeez....”
Hajoon wasn’t usually one for participating in public events he hated how crowded and unruly everyone tended to act especially if alcohol was involved, however when he saw that the event was being held by the complex he lived in he as more than happy to sign up knowing that the people he lived around weren’t crazy wild partying beast. It also gave him the opportunity to show his one and only skill. Origami.
So that’s how he ended up here, under his umbrella table hiding from the sun with hundreds of beautiful colored papers used for origami scattered about. He had made a few examples and was currently folding one more out of boredom but he couldn’t for the life of himself remember how it was done and was struggling. Deciding it wasn’t worth it to continue his further embarrassment he makes another tulip instead, noticing as he places it into the vase that someone had stepped up to his table.
Smiling he gives a little wave knowing the other saw him struggling “I promise I know what i’m doing, want to make a flower?”
+ how does your muse relate to the month they were born in? is it important to them?
March couldn’t be any more unimportant to him than an ant on the ground. March in his eyes is just a means to an end. The tail end of death before life blooms again painting the earth with vibrant colors and beautiful flowers which he can arrange any way he pleases. Spring is where he truly wants to be for the rest of his days. Others enjoy the frigged temperatures that force you to bundle up daily or the sweltering heat of summer, however, that is not for him. He craves to be free, comfortable and boundless among the daffodils. Which are his birth months flower much to his delight. Tapping his nibbled finger against the table softly he give a slight head tilt to the side popping his neck as he accepts the fact that he’s always felt that way since he was old enough to comprehend the seasons and what they promise. Realizing that spring promises him so much more.
+ do they believe the month they were born in has any influence on how their personality has grown?
Months influencing ones personality? He’s considered this possibility in his late night musings about the zodiac signs. However, he’s determined that it is one of many things that makes us, us, and not the determining factor. As he’s grown up and experienced his life and all its given him thus far, from the good to the absolute worst, he knows that is what shapes us. Experiences from birth to childhood are the building blocks while everything after is developing the person everyone sees now.
Huffing softly Hajoon slumps back into his chair, his head lolling to the side as he stares at the wall for a moment. ‘yeah developing the person everyone see even if they don’t like the results’ he thinks bitterly before sitting up again and continues.
+ do they believe in horoscopes and zodiac signs? if yes, how do they represent them?
He could care less about horoscopes, to him they are a snapshot of your life to close up for you to see the whole picture. Everyone is different, how can a simple horoscope sum up an individual life when the one writing it for magazines and online pages has no clue who you are? Zodiac signs on the other hand fall into a different place for him, he believes they are guidelines into who you may be not who you are.....he.....just so happens to fall within those lines though.
Pisces: compassionate, gentle and wise while negatively he is far to trusting, sad and closed off. ‘yup, sounds about right’
+ what are your muse’s months aesthetics like? anything that applies to both your muse’s character and the month?
First signs of spring approaching with less and less snow, green grass and slightly warmer weather. Coffee brewing in the early morning before work, trees beginning to no longer look bare, cold winter nights under heavy blankets and cozy pajamas.
+ do they relate to other months as well? do they think there are people born in other months they vibe more with or less with?
That is a hard one for him to decide, on one hand he does relate to other months far more than the one he was born into but he struggles with the people born into those months. He has come a long way in communication and interacting with others but still struggles to connect. So vibbing with other months? He’ll have to wait and see.
Hello everyone! Jae here to introduce my overly reluctant boy Hajoon here.
You can catch him in his balcony garden or sitting around the complex working on various projects but never without a cup of coffee though. I’m down to plot and I like to end up in everyone’s DM for one reason or another. So feel free to message me!
Sitting on the edge of his coffee table in his dimly lit living room Hajoon sighs deeply letting his head fall into his hands, exhaustion weighing him down just as heavy as his thoughts. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t let it get to him, that he wouldn’t come home and cry over it. Having dealt with all kinds of asshole CEO’s and upper management he should be used to the humiliation that can comes with presenting an idea to a room full of know-it-alls however, this time was different.
This time was personal and he just couldn’t shake the sadness settling inside at the comments made about him like he wasn’t standing right there dead center. Cruel. How can any one person have so much hatred in their heart? Having tough skin in his industry is important but sometimes.....Sometimes. He just can’t take it.
Taking a few deep breathes to ground himself he slowly gets to his feet and looks around his living room at the various plants occupying the shelves and hanging from the ceiling. Work. Even though his day was crumbling around him he still had business to attend to. The garden wasn’t going to water itself and as much as he wanted to wallow in his own pity, the daffodils would notice his absence. His flowers are enamored with his company. No one believes it but he’s so sure of it by the way they bloom so vibrantly days after he visits.
Huffing softly in amusement at the thought he wanders around his apartment gather various items he’ll need. Letting the prospect of a distraction lift his mood a bit before he heads the garden with his bucket of tools in hand. Just as he rounds the corner leading onto the rooftop through the window he notices a figure crouching in his garden. At first he just stands there shocked with his mouth hanging open, all this time he had been thinking the birds were eating his plants. Birds. Not a person. Yet here they are shamelessly digging around like a squirrel. Gathering his wits he smirked thoroughly amused by the fact. Busted. Quietly stepping up to the door he gently opens it knowing from personal experience that the garden was to far to hear.
“And just what are you doing in my garden?” He says loud and clear across the roof cocking a brow, genuinely curious.
Hajoon has had enough of ‘simplicity plants’ owned by the stubborn old geezer a few streets over from his own flower shop. He has tired to turn a blind eye to the way they run their shop, not being one to judge another, however, he can only pretend to be blind for so long.
Every day he passes by the eyesore displaying those poor wilted brown plants with pride and each time he offers his services hoping the man will just let him help, he is promptly denied. Each. Every. Time. He knows to much pride when he sees it knowing good and well the old man will never budge on his choice. So he will have to do it himself.
Releasing an overly annoyed huff just thinking of the shop, he yanks his wagon into the building hallway dislodging the wheels from the door jam. The time just a few hours after night fall he notes before gently tugging his black face-mask up over his nose. Perfect for what he wants to do without getting caught, not that he cares. Hajoon knows he might be over reacting just a bit but there is no way he can let this slide any further, at this point it is just ridiculous.
Backing up a few steps clearing way for the large wagon to swivel into place he doesn’t notice someone else stepping up behind him before he’s bumping into them and running over his own foot.
“ouch!...oh, my bad. I didn’t see you” he says quickly recovering.
