in a world of my own

“why, sometimes i've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast” ― lewis carroll, alice in wonderland alice ✦ 26 ✦ manga shop owner

[zwalice]

you can learn a lot of things from the flowers

[zwalice]

zwxsojin:

while he spoke, sojin already had all sorts of designs and flowers in her head—white daisies to symbolize the young man’s ‘innocence’, for he had seem somewhat like a pure child to her with the way his attention easily gets caught by the different flowers, each showcasing their own beauty. peonies… yellow peonies, reason being is because they were rare. the way he was extraordinary as well. finishing with a lovely touch of pink peruvian lilies—symbolizing friendship—something she had suddenly wanted to achieve with the young man. she almost finds herself getting lost in thought, rather thrilled with inspiration as she soon headed off to gather the materials. the idea that someone was there—completely clad in an attention-catching fashion, take note—has completely slipped her flora-filled thoughts. “oh my, I almost forgot—do you have any flowers in mind?” she asked, grabbing her tools as she did.

after a moment, she returned and laid freshly cut flowers on her table, carefully examining each and everyone of them as she visualizes in her head. she had never wanted to give someone a gift so much. he gave her motivation to do so—he was among the few who noticed sojin’s talent in arranging flowers. she had felt very thankful and touched with the way he has showed his happiness towards something that most people would refer to as ‘just an ornament’. to sojin, it was more than that. she had spent time and effort putting up different flowers—repeating whenever the end product didn’t come out well, getting a little sad whenever it looks worse than she had expected, or whenever someone declines her work. it was a critical hit to her confidence, yet she never stopped. now, she had found someone who was willing to take some time of his day to watch and appreciate.

“flowers are really nice to look at,” she blurted out at random, a small smile plastered across her lips. “they’re even better when you have someone to look at them with,” she added. she suddenly went off to the back of the shop, walking out a few minutes later with a lovely porcelain tea pot in her grasp. “I hope you don’t mind—you know, err… aesthetic?” she uttered out, although uncertain—she pushed on further with her plan. soon, it started to fill with foliage, adding on it layer by layer—and it that moment, she was in her element. she had completely lost herself in the luxury of creation.

again, his eyes widen minutely in that gesture of unexpected words, right before an easygoing laugh floats out of his mouth. 

“flowers of the mind? why yes. yes i do think i have a good many of those in here,” he says around a grin, his finger tapping against his temple gently as he smiles at the florist. “i am not sure though, if this is the kind of flower you’re meaning. . .” he continues honestly, but without his smile dimming in the slightest. because for as bizarre as he is, alice does understand that he doesn’t always come off well towards others. he knows after so many years of experience that what he says and how people interpret it are often not of the same manner. 

“but what i don’t have a mind for at all one way or another is about teapots,” he says while scrutinizing the piece of porcelain like he’s brokering for a deal on an antique. “you know sometimes teapots are lovely things indeed. but other times they are too hot to hold or they break so easily, perhaps using them for holding flowers and not tea is a better outcome indeed. certainly better than a house for a mouse.” 

when the woman herself goes quiet, so too does alice, the young man all too happy to pull up an abandoned stool and take a seat to become a spectator towards her art. his eyes have only the most attentive respect for her hands, the things that alice considers tools of creation. he would so very like to touch them again, and not have such wonderful things taken from his grasp so quickly as happened before. his teeth snug over his lower lip while he debates on asking to hold her hands, before he simply can’t take much of it anymore. 

“would you have a mind against it?” he blurts out eventually, not coming clear with what he means, but the way he’s looking hopefully form her hands to her eyes might spell it out well enough. 

[fyeahsug]

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Misora (from Thrill Ride Pirates)

[zwalice]

first witness

 [ It's in front of a stranger that Alice finds himself running smack into a pole. His eyes had been lifted skyward and he'd not been paying an ounce of attention to where his feet were taking him. When his nose suddenly begins to drip blood from the unseen impact, he appears too surprised to do anything but stare at the drops of red landing in his palm. ] 

zwxmoon

Moon didn’t enjoy admitting that she was late since it wasn’t a good trait to show off, but at the current moment the clock had already struck nine and she was still at least a few good blocks from her destination. It was then when she had to pause, an individual in front of her going face first into a pole causing her to instinctively wince in pain that wasn’t inflicted on her, then to properly react and gasp only to run over. It seemed as though the damage to his nose had already been done as drips of red were stained onto the grey concrete underneath them.

“Oh my goodness are you okay?”

Alice averts his attention away from the small splats of crimson upon the ground around his feet, his gaze still rather surprised by the situation even when he meets the eyes of a concerned citizen. Its quite clear that she is a good samaritan type, looking out for the man who walked himself into a stationary object and suffered an injury for his obliviousness. Even with the stinging of his nose (it had also been scuffed along the bridge) and the slight watering of his eyes from the impact, does he note this is certainly a good person. He nods once to her after a few seconds are spent on mentally cataloguing his person. At least he seems mostly alright he thinks. 

“How very curious. . . But I’m getting the ground so dirty though, aren’t I?” he asks in a voice thats almost a mumble, spoken that way thanks to the sensitive feeling in his face. It might be an entirely inane question, but Alice has to wonder who is responsible for cleaning up blood on pavement these days. Lifting a hand under his nose, he tries his best to catch at the blood, confused on what course of action he next ought to take, as he’s rather stumped by the amount of blood trickling from his nostril, not to mention he’s got nothing to sop it up with.  

[white-dubu]

[l-oo]

[zwalice]

you can learn a lot of things from the flowers

[zwalice]

the young man had his way into picking at sojin’s interest—the way he converses with the flowers had her smiling in complete awe. “it’s a shame that it has to be taken from its roots just to display its beauty,” she uttered, her tone was somewhat fused with guilt, her expressions rather animated with the way she rubbed the back of her nape. “they really are lovely, it’s one of the perks of being a florist—I get to see beauties like this everyday—even make them, and isn’t that like a dream come true? to create something that’s very lovely?” she added. her eyes sparkled the way stars in the night sky did, she was intrigued and excited—she had never found someone that had the same fascination with plants as she did, no one really did understand her interest, even as a child. her peers were often convinced that they were ‘just plants’, nothing more, nothing less. her love for these plants and flowers, just like a baobab tree, was deeply rooted into her heart. anyone would be surprised of how this takes up a large part of sojin’s life (and everyone else’s, like, hello, oxygen?).

she takes note of how his hands were placed behind his back, slyly taking a peek, enough to see but not enough to be noticed. she sees them rather eager to feel, although she dismisses it as a figment of her imagination, after all, this man was proper and well-mannered. he wouldn’t go around touching stuff, right?

that’s where sojin was completely wrong. with his sudden movement, she finds her hands—almost completely covered with various colored plasters—in his. growing flustered—evident with the way her face suddenly grows pink, she freezes in place unable to speak only to suddenly pull her hands away, an embarrassed laugh escaping her lips. even though she did not want the atmosphere to grow more awkward, it seemed to happen anyway—as if it was purposely happening against her wishes. looking up at the young man, she tries to break off the ice once more. “aren’t they soft? I use quality hand lotion!” she suddenly blurts out, forcing a smile as she clasped her hands together, turning away rather quickly towards her most recent work, hands working on fixing the arrangement once again, despite the fact that she had finished working on it just minutes ago.

just then, a sudden idea sparked in her mind. yet still embarrassed, she turns to him, flashing him a wide smile. “by the way, do you want me to arrange flowers for you?” she asked, even though it seemed rather useless with the way he was just focused on how she worked. “I mean, you’re not here just to watch, are you?” she chimed, letting a soft laugh escape her lips afterwards.

where it is perhaps a little bit of a strain for her to smile so brightly after being touched by the strange man, alice himself can only smile warmly and genuinely after the moment of mourning the loss of touch has passed. he would have liked to hold her hands a little bit longer, to truly get a feel for the life in her palms and fingers, the source of so much life that went into these already dead flowers. they certainly still seemed to be alive to alice, even though they no longer held fast to the earth. but to have her still be pleasant with him, even though he’s gone and done something again (like he so often does) that isn’t polite, that washes away any less positive emotions. 

of course the florist was a nice person though, someone who made the flowers have a second life in such a lovely manner could only be just as wonderful themselves. and her smile, that is contagious, even to alice, the man who seems to live with his head perpetually in the clouds. 

“but why ever not?” he asks with his own bright smile, a boyish sort of grin, as he makes himself put those hands behind his back again. the blond rocks back and forth on his heels with some of the extra energy that he’s feeling right now. “i would very much like to watch. i would like to watch you make an arrangement for yourself. because that is what you do, is it not? i can see it easily, that you do this for your own love. don’t you? although. . . 

“hm,” he seems to come to a consideration, head ducking down a little as his lips firm up just slightly in thought. he looks up again, curiously, at the florist. “i wonder what the flowers would have to say about being made for me?” 

[joonguar]

family style

[zwalice]

Yukiko remained still in her spot against the counter. Arms crossed tightly across her chest and eyes narrowed into small slits that if they could, bring death to anyone. This guy has to be crazy she thought, especially what came out of his mouth instead of her questions being answered. In reality the whole situation made no fucking sense.

“With…Soul?” she asked, brows raised as high as they could go in an attempt to figure out what screws needed to be tightened. There was no way he was a tenant on the first floor since the rooms are full but possibly the second? Is this the new guy? She remembers the landlord telling everyone that there was a new tenant upstairs, which brought more to the question why was he in the downstairs kitchen.

Pushing off the counter top she met with the stranger just inches away in a few steps. Hands rested on the curve of her hips and her tip toes giving the illusion she was threatening him (when really she just wanted to fuck with him).“This kitchen about to be filled with your blood if you don’t answer me why you are in my home?” Looking for any kind of weapon she grabbed a wooden spoon and waved it in his face, “Don’t make me use this.”

So, attempting to keep his face straight in the expression of smoothness he’s wearing. . . that’s kinda hard to do in the face of- Well. Her face. Because her face? Its looking a bit intimidating. 

Never mind the fact that she just started talking about spilling blood. Maybe this really was a manga? Was this his life now? Had he finally stepped closer to the realms of fiction he so believed in? 

Alice finds himself disappointed when the weapon she wields at him is a wooden spoon and not the imagined katana that would actually spill his blood. 

Then again. She could possibly beat him to death with the cooking implement. And that would certainly be a messy demise. Alice isn’t decided if he’s fascinated by the thought or afraid, which shows on his somewhat mixed up expression his eyes go crossed following the spoon as it gets close to his nose. His silver earrings waver slightly as they dangle beside his jaw when he leans back from the threatening individual. 

“Is this not the House of Camp?” he asks, suddenly feeling doubtful about his sense of direction. “Is this not the residence to be shared by those seeking affordable room and board and a family atmosphere?”

[zwalice]

you’d be just like people dinah

jongdaezw

People speak of a higher calling. They speak of something whispering into their ear. They speak of a voice from above telling them what to do with their lives. 

Alice feels something very much like that right now. And the sound of it? Its sounds so very much like a cat’s meow. 

Its in this manner that his feet rather than his brain seem to lead him to the doors of the cat cafe he’s only just seen opened recently. During the renovations that had been going on inside the closed up doors, Alice had just maybe contributed to some of the smudges on the windows. . . as he’d pressed his face to the glass to get as much of a look as he could when he read the ‘coming soon!’ sign that had meant so much to him. 

And now, now it is ready and waiting for Alice to make his way inside the little world, a world that’s just on the fringes of the one Alice imagines for himself. 

Its with his expression radiating the same look as someone who had just discovered another galaxy, that the blonde manga shop owner stands in the midst of the cafe.

[joonguar]

family style

[zwalice]

The time was unknown to Yukiko when a strange but welcoming smell woke her from her sleep. Eyes still covered in sleep and her limbs not wanting to move from the comfort of the sheets. As she laid there, thoughts circled through her mind as who the hell could be in her kitchen. At first her thought was Joon but then realized he would have woken her up or been in bed with her. Then she thought one of her housemates but then realizing Mino has been gone for a few days and no one else could cook.

I really don’t want to get out of bed, she thought. The sleep slowly leaving her body and her stomach calling to get up and feed for the day. Getting up in one swift movement, with almost falling, she grabs on her slippers and panda sweater before heading out the the main room.

What she saw other than the bright sun through the kitchen window, was the back of a strange man at the counter and bags of groceries at the side. Her steps were slow and soft, walking up next to the other who was occupied with whatever he was cooking, “Who are you?” she asked as politely as she could, hands behind her back to balance her weight from the counter top.

His side profile looked oddly familiar but now wasn’t the time to be asking questions of where she has seen him. What mattered was why wasn’t she informed of a new roommate. “And why are you in our kitchen?”

And the moment presents itself: time to make an awesome introduction. 

The voice calling out to him had given him pause, but after a beat (a few beats more than necessary for most people but nobody ever said Jaejoong was quick witted), he’s assembled his thoughts away from his melodies and pictured success of a lovely meal, and refocused on the individual in the kitchen with him. Turning his head  then, Alice does his very utmost for a shoulder-ed look slow mo in real life. It always works insanely well for the guys in anime and dramas after al! 

So that’s what he does now, tries to capture this person’s heart with one turn of his gaze. Giving her a long look, he then answers in a measured voice deeper than he’d usually use. 

“I’m filling this kitchen with life. . . with love. . . with soul.”

[zwalice]

playlist on @8tracks: fairy by hetaliangonewild.

[joonguar]

all musicians need fans, jy&jj

[zwalice]

zwjoon:

The smile seemed to send a chill down Joonyoung’s spine. A cliche phrase, but a phrase that was universally understood and fitting in the current situation.

Not that he minded per say; however, he definitely didn’t want people scrambling through his stuff like a pile of trash.

Jaejoong, the name tickles his mind as small snippets of the recent gathering memories vaguely returned. Before he realizes it, the other had already clambered on top of his bed and began to explore the bits and pieces of his guitar. Thankfully, he hadn’t felt as embarrassed since the blanket still covered his bare legs and eye-rolling boxers. Even so, he still tightened the guitar against his chest in nervousness. The other doesn’t seem to be out of whack, just slight strange, slightly similar to himself.

“Ah, well i’m searching for band members” He sighed at the thought. Obviously, no luck. He hadn’t seen that spark of potential quite just yet, or a person who had the same temperament as he did. It was like searching for that one friend, the only friend who you’ve only felt eternally close to. It wasn’t the same as lust or love, it was another connection that was just as difficult and complicated as love. Joon had many friends; however, none of them could sincerely or fully connect with him, share the things he loved and enjoyed. Honestly, finding band members was something that wasn’t as easy as he had previously believed. Now, he was just waiting. Simply, waiting.

“How about you, what do you do for a living? Everyone’s out for work… but you’re still here?” He wonders. He usually chose this time to play because there was usually nobody home. The morning sun still filtering through the windows and glazing the room with soft calmness, and a bird chirping about that isn’t noisy but actually adds to the whole atmosphere. These hours were perfect for creating music and simply chilling out while for others, it was a time for productivity. Obviously, it isn’t the same for the man settling besides him.  

if the other is at all uncomfortable with alice’s presence, then the blonde seems to take no note of it. its truly not his style, to go into it bearing ideas of poor reception. he’s perhaps naive for it, but alice likes to go into situations thinking that everyone ought to be welcoming to who he is. of course this isn’t always the case, but even with twenty six years of life to his name, alice still hasn’t lost that innocent sort of charm that children often present others when wanting to make friends. and because of this charm, alice is looking towards the musician with a gaze filled only with curious engagement. 

“well you could always put an ad up in my shop! it will give me a good reason to clean up the board from all the ones that aren’t sensible any longer. do you know what you are looking for exactly? sometimes, it is better to be precise,” he sighs a little, lips still quirked in a smile but his head shaking like he doesn’t believe his own words, which he fixes with his next statement though. 

“but also, sometimes its very hard to know what you would want, hm?”

tilting his head to the side at the other’s question of occupation, its perhaps a little unclear that alice takes the words for their literal meaning, and not for the well associated meaning that they are used for. the phrase is one everyone knows, and so its likely to assume alice is joking with a odd sense of humor when he replies strangely to the housemate’s question. 

“do? well. . . usually i keep to breathing. but luckily i don’t have to think much about that to keep living. eating well and drinking fluids is always good to do for the living too-” and here he pauses, as if he’d just been pinched on the bum by an unseen hand, or, more likely, as if a thought at just struck him. 

“do you do the living some other way?” his voice and expression alike are filled with fascination. 

[zwalice]

you can learn a lot of things from the flowers

[zwalice]

. . .☂

“you know, it’s funny that we find flowers attractive—although we cut them anyway.”

if the owner would seem a little awkward in anyone else’s eyes, the way she seems unsure of herself when showing someone her workspace, well, alice doesn’t seem to notice that in the slightest. for if he does notice it, he doesn’t make a show of it at all, his expression of ambient easygoingness never straying from his face. for all the he is interested he doesn’t seem overly nosy or judging of the other young shop owner, but instead seems curious and eager to learn more of her trade. 

of course looks can be misleading. even though alice generally is anything but misleading (mysterious and surprising sure, but never a liar, its an art he’s not well versed in), the hands behind his back are hiding a little something. they’re hiding their itch to touch, to explore through sensation! but politeness and many a situation wherein he’s lost his privilege to attend someone’s shop have him clasping them together where they might not be too obtrusive. even the man who is so open in discussion on many topics people keep to themselves knows its rude to touch without permission. so for now, his eyes do the touching, which is why even as the knowledgable individual speaks about her flowers, alice’s gaze remains tranced about the workspace. 

his lips tuck up a little bit more, eyes creasing slightly at the edges as he takes in the messy little details. they speak of life and living to him. 

“it is hard,” he replies to her pondering comment, still looking around, “to not want to keep something when you like it so much.” a moment passes before he does look to her, a kind smile of understanding on his face. the moment of almost-wisdom that takes over his features trips off fast enough though when he notices that she’s finished the piece in front of her. 

“ah!” its a sound of happiness, mirrored by his childlike expression and the way his hands suddenly forget to remain behind his back, unclasping and coming to his sides to splay outwards in eagerness. 

“see they do look quite happy don’t they! even from their roots they did not shine quite the same i bet. you wouldn’t be so pretty in the belly of a beast,” he says to the flowers themselves, rather easily addressing them. “or would you i wonder? would you make a deer gleam in its coat? maybe a rabbit could bounce better because of you? i wonder, but really, what a lovely thing to become.”

he looks almost adoringly at the flowers for a moment, before he’s turning to the florist herself to turn that particular gaze upon her hands. the very instruments of creation here of course they were. he reaches out to touch those hands, forgetting. . . without asking permission. . .

[zwalice]

zwxsoojung

(. . .)

“oh hello, how are you? are you lost or something?”

a pause. and then the reaction comes. 

one hand full of groceries presses up against his own chest, bag crinkling and stuffings jostling, while his eyes take on a widened expression of awe and something akin to alarm. but it softens enough into surprise, not unwelcome of course but simply entirely unseen to the man is her reply to his greeting. 

and yet, he shouldn’t be surprised at all! why, she’s possibly like him after all! its what had brought him to her side and now its also what has his smile returning, now far more of a beaming thing, radiating his happiness. 

“right to the thick of it!” he tells her in what is certainly exclamation enough for people walking past to turn their heads towards him before they move along once more. he doesn’t seem to notice the stares though, and just grins at the young and equally blond person with satisfied surprise. he leans in a bit closer once he drops his voice, though his eagerness hasn’t taken any steps down in level. 

“are you perhaps more aware than i’d assumed? do you know as well?”

[vgm365]

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Soaring Wings (天翔ける翼) Composition: Masashi Hamauzu (浜渦正志) Vocal: Mio Kashiwabara (柏原美緒) Game: Unlimited SaGa Album: SSCX-10078~9 | UNLIMITED:SaGa Original Soundtrack

[zwalice]

you can learn a lot of things from the flowers

zwxsojin

she comes to a halt from doing her usual errands the moment she notices the man, standing quietly—observing—at the center of the shop. sojin could not help but rush towards him, assuming that he’s been standing there for a while now. embarrassed, she bows her head repeatedly. “how may I help you?” she uttered, her voice was rather uncertain, especially since she could not read the latter’s expression properly.

he’s standing and gazing about with the most polite of bodily displays, the language of his frame saying he’s a well mannered individual by the way his hands are held clasped behind his back, the way he’s leaning in to get a closer look of a flower arrangement here and there without putting a hand out to touch. and not only does he seem well mannered, but he also seems to be one who enjoys the flowers, judging by the way the light smile of delight never seems to stray from his lips, as well as how he lets his eyelids settle closed for a few seconds when a particular fragrance seems to strike his fancy.

if only his chosen attire and hairstyle supported such evidence of gentlemanly behaviors. because for as calm as he might seem, the complete contradiction that is his freshly bleached hair color, along with the style quite obviously inspired by past visual kei bands, his clothes loud in their colors with a pink unicorn patterned shirt and a set of yellow cargo pants, that seems to speak that serenity isn’t ever something on his mind. and yet- yet here he is looking ever the peaceful figure with nary but pleasant tidings to bring. even the smile he shows the shop’s owner when she greets him is a lazy aired type, yet still bright and amiable sort of thing. 

alice is often full of these things called contradictions though. 

“hmmmm?” its a hum from his throat, a mildly confused or perhaps amused sound, before he blinks to himself and seems to come up with an answer to her question. “help? you want to help more?” this is funny to alice, because in his mind, she’s already helped him a great deal just by having her shop available for looking at. though, he does seem to think of something a moment later, his eyes going a tad more focused as he looks at the owner as if it were here idea and not his own request.

“could i see where you create? where you make all the different flowers sit together so nicely? they look quite happy despite being dead now.”

[zwalice]

causeplay

Its a daily question for Alice: who will he be today?

Opening the pages of the nearest manga, this is how he decides. 

Perhaps it is a strange thing, to look upon a visual novel as most people look to their various religious texts for guidance, but for Alice it seems to work well enough. 

In fact, its been a part of his success in turning the manga and book shop into his own hands, and keeping it alive despite his lack of business savvy. There are many an individual who would be saddened to see the old shop with its bargain prices of second hand books and manga as well as the more obscure labels and authors for sale. Even more individuals would likely feel a pang of regret though if one of the figures of Shimokitazawa that gives it its flavor vanished from the street as well. Why, who better to buy your manga from, than someone who takes it upon himself to emulate your favorite character? 

Firmly believing in the lessons and words that fiction provides the mind, Alice has always maintained the outfits of several characters he himself admires. This is something often called cosplay, but to Alice, its far different from that. Its walking the day through someone else’s shoes, and trying to find himself another string of clues for who he is too. 

After all, when you’ve felt yourself an alien to the world, finding a bond with anyone, even those of fiction, can only be a warmth to the heart. 

[furawa-su]