#shiwoomoon

[inezistent]

— closed starter for @shiwoomoon

Sometimes Ezi’s excellent skills to make the best drinks at Jigoku sabotage him, and he is sent to outside events to please a whole different class of humans with whatever type of shit they’d like to drink. He hates those events, he hates having to serve those humans like that --- but at least this type of job has one benefit: that class of humans doesn’t stink, or start fights over dumb stuff such as a bump of shoulders. 

But their ego is definitely bigger than the ones you’d see at the bar.

His uniform also changes drastically when he has to attend those events: instead of the simple white button-up shirt and a pair of black jeans, he has to wear a whole suit. Uncomfortable, tight and suffocating, the tie wrapped around his neck feels very similar to the collar that once was part of his body, and that is definitely the one thing he dislikes the most about the outfit. But he does his best not to catch so much attention, no more than he already does thanks to his looks.

He smiles at the guests and makes sure they’re pleased, gives them the drinks they ask for with a bow of his head and a bright smile followed by a soft ‘you’re welcome’ if they’re ever ( polite ) kind enough to say thank you.

And that’s what he does when he sees another guest approaching the counter where he stands at, a small and yet gentle smile forms on his lips and his voice sound just as gentle and sweet when he speaks to the man.

“May I help you, sir?”

[pinkinam]

practice.

starter for @shiwoomoon – ! 💌

His day begins before the sun rises, the best part of a new day. Right when the heavy night sky transitions into a warm daffodil glow. Small waves of rose just barely creeping to take the place of the stars, the moon discreetly moving to take its place in the background, allowing the sun to hold the spotlight. While he may not be able to step outside the Ishikawa Telecommunications building that he and the other idol androids call home, he can still experience the magical stillness of a sunrise through the clear glass windows. It’s not often he’s able to slip away and gaze out the window, but on his free days he can.

The way the city’s morning bustle hums to life is so fascinating. Unfortunately, today isn’t one of those days. Today is practice day. Dancing, singing, and performance. Practice day is grueling and long. Arduous and exhausting. Sunrise to sundown, Kinam and the other idol androids are kept under a watchful eye. Their dance steps critiqued, voices evaluated, and performances met with harsh criticism. There were no mediocre performances allowed, never have been and never will be. If anything doesn’t look or sound right, it is corrected immediately. Ishikawa only produces the best of the best, and that isn’t changing any time soon. Being an idol was never an easy task, even now when androids are the ones on the stage. Kinam knows he has to give it his all and then some, he knows he isn’t doing as well as he should, and he knows that his superiors aren’t exactly thrilled about that. To minimize the damage, he practices longer. Rehearses his steps again and again until he has them down to memory. He wants to show passion and energy on stage, and he hopes he can do that. He doesn’t want to let anyone down. Kinan doesn’t stop until he can feel his body getting heavier, power running low. He’s giving as much of himself as he can during practice. His bandmates and fans are incredibly important to him and he’d hate to have them dragged down or bad mouthed just because of his own inability to do well. They mean the world to him. And he secretly wishes they think the same of him.

[cvthexiis]

↳ @shiwoomoon

trips to the zoo are far and few between for her. it's expensive first and foremost and secondly, skye prefers saving it for the days she's too caught up inside of her thoughts once again. visiting the various enclosures for the animals is nice -- entertaining to a degree even because she's seeing these wild creatures in real life as opposed to pictures or videos on the internet. the atmosphere as a whole tends to be brighter and distracting with all of the joy emanating from families who have come to visit, peals of laughter and squeals of joy from the children nearly echoing throughout the area. she comes here and she blends and she pretends she's one of the few among the many.

maybe that's the problem. in spite of everything, she's still pretending. the very word dredges up memories she'd rather place to the side and never think of again. yet, here she is lost in her thoughts and contemplating everything. at the moment, it's the large predatorial cats in front of where she sits, orange and black striped fur striking even as they laze about on a rock under the simulated sun beams above them. the signs on their enclosure boast how they were once almost extinct but are thriving in captivity.

"do you think they pretend to be happy living like this or do you think they're actually content?" skye asks aloud, interrupting her own train of thoughts, and looks to the male sitting nearest her.

[kal0ps1a-blog1]

{location: abe gastronomy, ginza ( ‘upper layer’ ); time: 3.50pm; @shiwoomoon }

for once, xingwei is early — around ten minutes early, in fact. he’s so pleased with himself, he ordered a small snack for himself before his business meeting partner arrives. it’s a new appetizer and he wants to see if it’s something his mother might enjoy. for her, he doesn’t mind trying these new things — though his taste is vastly different from hers, he knows what she likes and dislikes.

he can only have his mask off until the other arrives, so he enjoys it while it lasts. once the dish is brought to him, he knows right away that he’s going to hate it. it’s sweet and sour something something, but there’s sesame seeds too and, well, that’s just not his cup of coffee if he’s at all honest about it. but, he plows through because he promised himself he’d try it for his mom’s sake.

as expected, he hates it and nearly spits it across the table, but there are just some things even he doesn’t do. the bite is swallowed down, tears coming to his eyes as he forces himself not to gag as it slides down his throat. the plate is shoved to the side after that and he checks the time. almost time.

he slides his mask back in place and sits back against the seat he’s in. he’s chosen a darker corner, the dim lighting of the led lights above the table cast a barely there shadow over his face — but it’s enough to make him look menacing, which is exactly how he wants to look when the other arrives.