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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Dec 14, 2013 8:46:04 GMT -8
Two days in America and Eun-Yul was already decidedly bored of her family. Their busy work schedules hadn't allowed any time for her to be properly shown around the city, and Eun-Yul was getting far too restless being stuck in the small house with far more free time than she knew what to do with. Not that she would have preferred the mountains of homework that used to plague her.
Two days of receiving icy stares from Mi-Ho every time she stepped the wrong way was enough to prevent her from asking the other girl to take her out, and anyway the girl had disappeared from the house without any mention of where she was going or when she'd be back. Just her and Kyu-Sik were left alone all morning, and neither of them had bothered to say more to each other than awkward hellos while eating Cheerios. Kyu-Sik didn't seem all that interested in being bothered, far more occupied with sitting around and knitting a green sheep.
What an awful way to waste a Saturday, and Eun-Yul stared out the window before deciding it'd be far better spent outside. Grabbing a mason jar from a cabinet in the kitchen to shove in her purse and a net she managed to find after some searching through closets, Eun-Yul ventured down to her aunt and uncle's instrument shop below to let them know she'd be back later. Raised wandering much of Seoul on her own, trusted to take the subways and buses from her various after school classes and academies, she had very little worry of getting lost. And apparently they were just as comfortable to let her go off without asking too many questions or warnings, which was a relief. She really didn't want any fussing over.
The bike left in front of their yard must have been either Mi-Ho's or Kyu-Sik's, and she doubted either of them would miss it too much if she borrowed it for a bit. It didn't seem in particularly good condition anyway, and not even locked up. It was a surprise nobody had just taken off with it before then, so Eun-Yul felt no guilt in forgoing asking permission. Riding a bicycle in heels and a skirt might have looked vexing to anyone watching, but the girl didn't consider it more than a minor inconvenience.
At least finding a park hadn't been too difficult, and Eun-Yul left the bike by a bench as she scoped out the plant life for possible insect activity. How similar were the ants in LA compared to back home? Poking around in the grass, she knelt down by an anthill to catch a few specimens before moving on to collecting some grasshoppers to fill up her jar. She wished she had some access to ethyl acetate in order to quickly kill her captives, curiously watching them squirm around and trying to decide how many she could practically fit inside before they started damaging each other. They weren't any good missing limbs or too banged up.
Tag: Anastasia Time: 19 May, 2pm
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Dec 15, 2013 19:54:14 GMT -8
Anastasia did not like America. She could deal with the Society, and all the new secrets she was learning. She could deal with the new places, and with the new people. She couldn't deal with America. In Russia people were patriotic, but they didn't slam it in your faces. There wasn't a tiny little American flag on every single thing. She didn't realize that LA was one of the least flag happy cities, but compared to Russia it was insane to her. Flags on cups, flags on hats, flats on street corners... she had to wonder if the Soviet Union in the cold war had been half as patriotic as America apparently was.
She wasn't used to the school--which she'd have to start again in the fall--or the laws. The laws were absurd. She was going to have to retest for her license, and she wasn't allowed to drink. At all. Not just she couldn't buy alcohol, but she couldn't even drink it without breaking the law. While Pasha was very strict on rules, the one time she'd asked him about it, he'd said that he'd absolutely let her drink, and then walked off muttering something about Russian rights.
As much as Anastasia disliked America, she much preferred America's outside to it's inside. She didn't want to hang out in a shopping mall--she wanted to hang out in a sweltering park, dressed in short shorts and a tank top that left little to the imagination. The only way she could have gotten more revealing was if she opted to wear a bikini. The weather as it was that day was only average for LA springs or falls, but it was the absolute hottest it got in Moscow, let alone anywhere north of there. At the moment she was sprawled out on a bench, feeling listless and bored, and it was only when something caught her eye that she shifted and turned.
There was a girl--one much her age, from the looks of it--with a net. Anastasia raised an eye, watching the girl quietly and wondering what the hell she was doing.
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Dec 16, 2013 5:41:42 GMT -8
Eun-Yul hadn't been exposed to enough of America yet to have any well-formed impression, although she was already set on not being all that fond of it. The people were noticeably bigger, she noted a few of them jogging by or walking their dogs, and wore considerably less. As if they weren't worried about getting a tan. Eun-Yul, of course, had made sure to wear plenty of sun cream before venturing out, trying to stick to the shadier areas underneath the tree.
But she didn't want to concern herself with the people, although their oversized dogs were a bit unusual and distracting as she watched one bound after a ball. She was used to dogs being tiny, dressed up or with their fur dyed, carried around by stylish ladies or following behind a child without a leash. She never understood the appeal, and her mother had been dramatically afraid of animals anyway.
Before she could decide if it would be considered rude to ask to pet somebody else's dog, a butterfly floating past refocused her attention. Eun-Yul's eyes narrowed in determination, not recognizing the species as anything she was familiar with. Dusty purple wings fluttered frantically as she brought the net swiftly down over it, a triumphant "Ha!" as she dropped to her knees in the grass to inspect her catch, not caring about the green stains to her bare knees. But then she was faced with a conundrum, because placing the butterfly in the jar with the other insects would surely damage its wings. "Ottoke?" Eun-Yul whined, shaking the jar with clear irritation, the frightened insects scrambling inside from the motion. She should have brought a second, but only the one had fit inside her purse. Dropping the handle of the net, as it wasn't going anywhere on its own, Eun-Yul began digging through her purse for anything that might solve her problem, staring at her comb in disgust. Worthless thing.
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Dec 17, 2013 10:21:31 GMT -8
Anastasia watched the scene with equal parts interest and confusion. She was well aware that nets could be used to catch lots of things, but bug collecting was definitely new to her. She had vague recollections of kids doing it, but never teens or adults. Was that normal? Was it an American thing? She found herself squinting at the girl as she actually cried out upon gathering a butterfly, not all that differently from the way that Anastasia would cry out upon punching a punching bag. Was it really so difficult? Or was it just something about focus? She could vaguely hear the girl say something, but not what it was, and as the girl started to rifle through her purse, Anastasia decided to finally speak up.
She stood up, stretching out carefully before taking the few steps required to reach the girl, and then peered down at her odd collection--a net, a jar, a purse... it was just odd.
"What are you doing?" There was no beating around the bush with Anastasia. She was generally a quiet person, and she wasn't going to engage in smalltalk, but she actually wanted to know what the hell the girl was doing. Collecting... bugs? Was that normal? Was there a reason? What was she going to do with them? Or was it like sport fishing, where she'd release them when she was done?
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Dec 18, 2013 5:23:37 GMT -8
Where she was from, people never paid much attention to strangers on the streets. Drunken old men passed out on the sidewalks went unbothered, nobody stopped to help up a fallen woman, even saying excuse me or sorry for bumping into somebody was unheard of. People stared at each other, openly judging, but being approached by somebody in public you didn't know was unusual. Eun-Yul was aware that Americans were apparently friendlier (although she wasn't sure that was the intent of this girl) and freely interacted with those they had no social standing with, but how quickly it occurred was a bit surprising. She didn't think what she was doing was all that interesting.
Eun-Yul stared up from the small pile of things she'd removed from her purse onto the grass, hand lotion and sunglasses and her wallet scattered by her knees, and tried to assess what the scantily-clad girl could have wanted. Was it genuine curiosity, or the beginning of ridicule? Most interactions with girls her own age went rather poorly, but it was difficult for her to guess the age of a westerner. The blonde could have easily been anywhere from fifteen to thirty and Eun-Yul wouldn't have known the difference. "Getting," she explained slowly, uncertain of the specific phrasing for her hobby. "This one," she indicated the jar, sure it was self-explanatory.
Removing a handful of tissues from a package, she unscrewed the lid of the jar and quickly stuffed them inside before anything could hop out, creating a barrier that the grasshoppers couldn't get past.
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Dec 28, 2013 9:38:09 GMT -8
Riddicule wasn't on Anastasia's mental dossier. She was polite to almost everyone she met, and you really had to earn her annoyance. Even if she thought you were a waste of space, she'd still be polite. Terse, but polite. She had never felt the need to make smalltalk beyond the absolute bare minimum, and America was no different for her. She didn't feel the need to change how she acted--most of her manners carried over anyway.
"This one?" She really had no idea of what the girl was talking about. She was getting... bugs? Her brow furrowed as she tried to take a guess, and after a moment she simply did just that--guessed. She wasn't a guessing person, preferring to wait until she had the proper amount of information, but it was obvious that the girl in front of her wasn't going to fill in any information. "You're catching bugs?" The way she said it was fairly obvious that it was a question. Why, exactly, was she catching bugs? Was there a reason? Was she going to... to what, go fishing? Probably not in LA.
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Dec 28, 2013 10:17:59 GMT -8
"Mnn," Eun-Yul verbally grunted in agreement, not seeing any way to elaborate when it was as clear as it sounded. She could hardly provide any satisfying explanation for her hobby beyond liking it, anyway, no practical use for her interest in entomology or other pursuits as an amateur naturalist. Mostly her just pulling things she found apart, sometimes grinding them up for experimental paint pigments if their colour struck her as particularly unique. As much as she enjoyed the jittery six-legged creatures, the idea of pursuing anything academically made her a bit nauseous. She was simply collecting insects to put into display boxes and identify and compare against others she found, which probably wasn't of interest to anyone else and not much of a group activity to invite the other girl to join.
The girl was quiet enough observing that it was easy for Eun-Yul to forget she was there as she carefully transferred the butterfly from the net into her jar, making sure it couldn't escape as she swiftly knocked against the side to make it fall. She screwed the lid back on with muted victory, a bit disappointed that was all she could gather because she wasn't at all ready to head back yet. But she had all summer to rebuild a collection, one that her mother wouldn't be around to throw away... but perhaps Mi-Ho wouldn't appreciate it either. Her cousin seemed plenty willing to toss anything that she disapproved of that she found in their shared room, but maybe she could be won over by butterflies. Everyone's unwavering dislike of insects usually made exception for butterflies, and Eun-Yul supposed that was the importance of beauty.
Finishing up, Eun-Yul returned to her feet, cradling the jar under her arm as she brushed bits of grass and dirt off her knees. She looked a bit surprised to see Anastasia still there, even though barely a moment had passed. What else could she have wanted?
Maybe to see them. So Eun-Yul held the jar out to Anastasia to observe, both hands clutching the sides of the glass as if it were something highly prized to the girl. "I like them, the bugs. So small, so weak."
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
NOTES Nope |
for jelly only okay |
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Dec 29, 2013 10:00:30 GMT -8
Anastasia foun hersel watching the other girl's movements with a strange sort of fascination. She had to be quick to catch the bugs, and she had to be careful to avoid damaging them. Was she going to keep them alive? It seemed unlikely. It seemed far more likely she was collecting them for display of some variety, although why someone would chose to display bugs in any place that wasn't a museum was a bit beyond Anastasia. She let the thought roll around in her mind before deciding that the possibility certainly existed that they were for a museum. Maybe she worked in some sort of training position, and he present task was to get bugs for display. It made more sense then Anastasia's initial thought--which was actually correct, although she didn't know it--and she mentally filed away that piece of information as the girl turned to her.
She studied the jar as it was held out, eyes flicking up and down. A butterfly, then. Butterflies had a whole lot of symbolism that people missed. In Russia, they were tied to grandmothers, but had no real meaning beyond that. Other places thought of them as signs of rebirth or delicateness. The one in the jar certainly looked delicate, and for a brief moment, all she could think of was how fragile it was--how it would die before almost any time had passed.
"I don't really see the point in idolizing weakness." Why observe something so frail? The animals she preferred tended to be large and dangerous. As with so many Russian children, she'd grown up on stories about the brown bear, and she preferred animals of that size.
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Dec 30, 2013 6:10:59 GMT -8
Dark eyes following the flittering of the butterfly, Eun-Yul smiled softly as it knocked its body futilely against the sides of the glass, trying to escape what it didn't even know was coming. Perhaps Eun-Yul didn't care too much about traditional symbolism, the colourful creatures merely representing bliss in her own culture. It seemed naive in its simplicity, but she supposed happiness was just as easily crushed and stolen away. Maybe it was a way of her to steal some of the happiness back for herself, selfishly claiming what tiny sliver of life that it had left for her own empty purpose. Yet she couldn't bring herself to believe that it really deserved more or better.
Anastasia's lack of enthusiasm was hardly a surprise, though Eun-Yul didn't quite understand what she meant about idolizing, if she was implying that there was some sort of envy or admiration that Eun-Yul regarded the creatures with. If she did, it wasn't for their weakness but their overlooked strength. "We all like to be so brave as the tiger, or as great as the bear," Eun-Yul shrugged, knew those were traits valued across all borders. "Yet for their sharp teeth and," Eun-Yul curled her fingers like claws, but skipped the word as it didn't come to mind, "... they die more and more. Faster and faster."
The beasts that people viewed as such strong predators were amongst some of the most endangered in the world, relying on people for their continued existence. Eun-Yul hardly saw what was impressive about that. "Yes, one's life is longer than one life of this," she shook the jar in indication. "But which animal travels to all countries, changes to every need? And which will leave this earth before the dirt of its time has even hidden their bones?" The uneasy concentration on Eun-Yul's face to put the words she wanted together was evident, clutching the jar even tighter.
Unscrewing the lid and letting it tumble into the grass, she reached inside to fold her fingers over the butterfly, her fist barely fitting through the opening as she pulled it back out. The jar fell to the ground next to the lid. Her fingers left smears against the scales of the wings, the edges battered where she held it pinched. "How easy it is to break one," she demonstrated by plucking off a wing, holding it up with a small frown but no regret. "How meaningless it is. So weak. They will feed at the flowers that grow on all human's grave."
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
NOTES NOPE |
for jelly only okay |
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Dec 31, 2013 10:53:13 GMT -8
If the strange girl wanted to talk about bears, then Anastasia could certainly talk about bears. She was Russian--she knew all about bears, which were practically Russia's national creature (or perhaps they were--Anastasia wasn't entirely sure). She knew all about them, and she also knew why they were dying off. "That's because we better," she stated simply, as if it was obvious and everyone should have known it. Really, Anastasia was quite convinced that everyone should have known it. How could anyone exist on the earth and not understand basic predator and prey dynamics.
"Humans are still weak. We're simply perfect to fill the.... space that we have created." The word that she had been looking for was 'niche', but for the moment she couldn't place it, her English struggling. "We breed faster and more efficiently. We have thumbs. One on one, a tiger or a bear would devour us. We have tools, and tools are what put us above all other animals."
She found she actually had a hard time following what, exactly, the girl was trying to argue. That humans were superior, but would eventually fall to dust? She supposed that she couldn't really argue that. Likely humanity would wipe itself out, and she gave a quick shrug. "I would know nothing about that. I was born after the union fell. I have never known real war, only small petty ones." Like Chechnya or Georgia. Neither counted as a true war as far as she was concerned, in the same way that a small trickling stream did not count as a river. There was an order of magnitude that separated the two.
"And," She began to add as an afterthought. "That one won't. Nor will others of it's kind. It will die out, but a new type will take it's place. Humans like to say 'oh, fish have been around for thousands of years, but it's never the same kinds of fish--only distant ancestors, who are not quite the same thing." Absolutely not the same thing.
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Dec 31, 2013 22:58:30 GMT -8
Unfortunately for Anastasia, she didn't get the disclaimer that trying to follow Eun-Yul's argument would have been an exercise in futility simply because it didn't exist. Eun-Yul constructed and abandoned her points as she went, happy to follow any new ideas that caught her attention. She was used not to being understood, though language barrier was certainly a factor, as Eun-Yul was beginning to suspect that the other girl wasn't a native English speaker either. The fact that Anastasia hadn't made up an excuse to leave just yet, and even added her own input, was vastly entertaining.
Though she already lost track of what she was trying to say, distracted by watching the squirming butterfly in her grasp. "It's easy to win a game you make the rules," she laughed, wasn't all too impressed by humanity's self-congratulatory definition of success.
"What is it, the Union?" she asked, not understanding the word nor the reference. Had they been talking about war? That countries and governments had progressed to the point of being on the constant teetering edge of war was certainly a sign of failure, yet boasting of a nation's world-destroying firepower was viewed as strength. She grew up hearing the latest empty threats of North Korea as they tried to be taken seriously, the stories that scared them as children now dismissed with no more than a bored shrug.
But her opinion on the subject wasn't too well-formed and changeable, didn't spend too much time dedicated to philosophy or studying anything too in-depth. She knew there were all sorts of prehistoric fish still alive today, but the names of them escaped her and there was no way she could figure out what to call them in English. Terrifying and ugly creatures that Eun-Yul had spent hours painting, only to fail the test in biology over the same subject.
"Not this one," she agreed instead, deciding it was too cruel to allow its pained twitching to continue before smashing its head between her fingers, feeling generous with her mercy. The lifeless spasms continued for a bit longer until it stilled permanently, and Eun-Yul shoved the mangle insect into the pocket of her skirt, where she'd probably forget it. "My name is Eun-Yul."
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
NOTES
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for jelly only okay |
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Jan 3, 2014 8:37:28 GMT -8
Anastasia felt like she could feel the first edges of an oncoming headache just from trying to wrap her head around the girl's argument. She couldn't really, but she liked to think she could--because if anything on earth could give you a headache by listening to it, it was definitely this girl's argument. She jumped from point to point like a child jumping across stepping stones, never seeming to stop for long enough for Anastasia to catch on. Anastasia herself rarely got into arguments, although terse debates were common enough. There was never anger in them though, only each site pressing a point on the other until one conceeded that they couldn't defend their point as well.
Her question about the union left Anastasia struggling, trying to vocalize it. What had the American's called it? Only the girl probably wasn't even American. She certainly didn't look it, anyway. It took her a moment to try and compose her thoughts, doing her best to explain what it was she meant. "The soyuz. The SSSR." There was a word she was missing, and after a moment she simply said the Russian equivalent, which was actually relatively close to the English version. "The Sovetskikh Union."
At the very least the girl had seen fit to introduce herself as she killed the bug with her fingers. The whole thing left Anastasia with a strangely melancholy feeling. Even if she'd been raised knowing she would no doubt kill people at some point in her life, and even if she'd been prepared to do so, she was unused to the small sign of what she saw as cruelty.
"My name is Anastasia." She paused for a moment, considering her next question before deciding it was not terrible rude for her to ask it. After all, they were both obviously out of place, each in their own way. "Where are you from?"
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Jan 4, 2014 11:00:56 GMT -8
As long as something was interesting, she had very little care whether it was correct. And she smiled, a tiny curl of her lips and narrowing of her eyes against the sunlight. Because Anastasia was interesting, at least for the moment. Far too big to fit in a jar to take home, anyway. "You are Russia people," she decided, already having forgotten why they were discussing the former Soviet Union other than as yet another thing that crumbled under its own strain. But she didn't know too much about Russia, didn't care too much to pay attention to politics or the news or drawn-out history lessons with names and dates she didn't even attempt to commit to memory.
What she did know about Russians, however, was that Korean businessmen seemed to like to pay them for the company they apparently didn't get from their wives. Asking if somebody was Russian was the same as asking if they were a prostitute, an open invitation for an exchange of services. She wasn't ignorant enough to believe that all Russian women pursued such careers, not even sure if it extended to the USA. Eun-Yul certainly wasn't an expert in the industry. But looking how Anastasia was dressed, exposed shoulders and so much skin... Eun-Yul regarded her with some fascination and calculating just how hard the other girl would hit her if she inquired just how much it would cost. Because the blonde definitely didn't fit the narrow Korean standard of beauty, but she figured Anastasia probably fit under some other definition of attractive. Not that Eun-Yul cared much about definitions, anyway.
"The Korea," she answered, not bothering to give a city with little expectation of the other girl knowing where Gangnam even was. "Not the North one," she clarified cheerfully and needlessly, because who even escaped from there to tell about it? "I like your nose shape."
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
NOTES oh god I'm sorry
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Jan 6, 2014 16:34:56 GMT -8
Yes, she was 'Russia people'. She was proud of that fact, and felt absolutely no need to hide it. Being Russian was who she was, and even if she'd have tried, it was obvious to anyone with even the tiniest bit of knowledge about the world. She nodded once. "Yes." Generally she'd have included where she was from, but she'd long ago moved past that particular instinct. Since coming from America she'd realized two things: One, no Americans knew any locations in Russia other then Moscow, and two, she had moved around too much to consider herself really from one 'place'. That was what happened when you were a military family--you got moved around a lot, and go used to being ready to pack up and go.
She was from Korea? Anastasia's mouth actually opened, about to ask which side, before remembering that oh yes, North Korean's wouldn't be in the states. Some North Korean's still lingered in Russia, either on work visas, or having simply stayed after being allowed to visit back before Russia was Russia. She'd personally met at least one (or at least, the daughter of one couple). South Korean then. She knew little about the country--if anything, she knew more about the North end of the peninsula, simply because there was so much shared history there. What she knew of South Korea, she knew simply by it's contrast to the north.
The last comment came totally out of the blue. Anastasia's eyebrows shot up, struggling to understand. That had to be some kind of... what, translation issue? She couldn't actually understand what Eun-Yul had said. Was... was she really complimenting her nose? "Your..." Hair? Not hair. Too long, too easy to grab and yank. "...Eyes are nice."
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Jan 9, 2014 4:33:41 GMT -8
Being open about your own appearance and that of others' was common enough in her own culture that even criticism wasn't considered rude. Something was assumed wrong if you were lacking makeup, attracting concerned inquires of health or lack of sleep. And compliments about the size of your face or the paleness of skin were plentiful, if you happened to have those desired features. But Eun-Yul wasn't often on the receiving end of compliments, that the girl's comment about her eyes prompted a surprised giggle.
Her eyes, if anything, were her most deserving feature of praise in accordance to cultural standards. Her mother had responded to Eun-Yul's many protests that she'd thank her somebody for the surgery. A surgery that a significant number of Korean women received, that there really wasn't any shame associated with it and Eun-Yul couldn't really claim regretting too much even if she never wanted it in the first place. Nobody had to admit to having it, because the evidence spoke for itself. Eun-Yul, however, doubted that Anastasia really understood the implication of her well-intentioned compliment. It probably lacked the undertones that would come with another Asian saying the same.
"Yes," Eun-Yul nodded, fingers lightly pressed to the corners of her eyes. "My mom buy for me," she demonstrated by pulling the skin of her eyes outwards, the crease disappearing as her eyes narrowed more to their natural shape. It was a gesture that most Americans would find offensive, yet was common amongst girls her age as they discussed how much they hated their eyes. Eun-Yul's had always been particularly narrow, remembered the frustration of school photographers insisting she opened her eyes more for pictures. Pictures that came back heavily photoshopped anyway. "Everyone says better like that."
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
NOTES
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for jelly only okay |
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Jan 10, 2014 20:11:04 GMT -8
It was safe to say that Anastasia had absolutely no idea what she'd just said. Cosmetic eyelid surgery wasn't the sort of thing that was commonplace in Russia. It certainly did happen, but it didn't happen any more then it did in America, and certainly not as much as it did in Korea. She was entirely unprepared for what happened next. The girl... well, she said something about buying, and it being better, and made her eyes more squinty by pulling at the edge, but Anastasia really had no idea what she was talking about. Russia certainly wasn't some anti-racism paradise--far from it--but East Asians tended not to be the main target of those who were. Chinese relations with Russia had been relatively good, and all the neo-nazis had been far too busy hating central Asians.
Plus, Korea was just too far from Russia for Anastasia to have any idea about the cosmetic surgery done there, and she found herself squinting, trying hard to focus on what she was saying and still coming up blank. "Sorry. I don't - what are you saying?" She didn't get it at all, but it was obvious that she'd stumbled onto... something. She just didn't know what.
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Jan 15, 2014 5:57:22 GMT -8
As far as Eun-Yul was aware, people outside of Asia tended to have the coveted double eyelids by default and no need for the surgery at all. And while some Koreans had them naturally, it was a rather slim percentage. So she wasn't too surprised that Anastasia hadn't known what she meant, but was more than happy to make it more clear. Eun-Yul held her pinky finger up, drawing her long and manicured nail across her eyelid in mimicry of an incision. "Like this," she motioned happily. "Doctor cuts, and now so beautiful." She remembered listening to an older woman on the television who argued strongly against the plastic surgery trend in Korea, condemned Kpop stars for all looking alike and promoting a fake image to the country's youths. And just as quickly the woman had been dismissed of her opinions for being ugly and therefore jealous.
But from all the Hollywood movies that Eun-Yul had seen, American actors all looked the same to her. She supposed it was fascinating, in a way, what procedures people went through, having their faces sliced open and their bones shaved down, to achieve an ideal of beauty. Though Eun-Yul was far more interested in the process than the results. But beyond what she had, Eun-Yul had no desire to get more done. She liked the small flaws in symmetry, imperfections that the other girls complained about in the bathroom mirrors while waiting for their equally-critical friends to validate them. She liked Anastasia's face, because it lacked false perfection, though now it was difficult to get the image of taking a scalpel to the Russian's face out of her mind. Her skin would look so pretty peeled back.
As an excuse to look away, she picked up the jar from the grass, all but a stray ant now escaped from it. Probably the idiot of the colony, wouldn't be too missed. Holding the jar upside down, as if in disbelief that it was empty, Eun-Yul pouted without actually being too upset. "But not you. Your face is really?"
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
NOTES
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for jelly only okay |
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Jan 15, 2014 9:35:14 GMT -8
It was a good thing that Anastasia couldn't read minds, or else she'd have made a hasty excuse and run for it. Plastic surgery wasn't something that was ever on her mind unless someone brought it up, and Eun-Yul's explanation was now clear enough that it was in her mind. She'd... well, she still wasn't entirely clear on what had been done. Something with her eyelids? The entire mono-lid thing had flown completely over her head. She'd definitely had some kind of surgery on her eyelids though, and Anastasia found herself frowning at the very idea. She'd never been so worried about her appearance that she'd thought surgery would matter. For that matter, she'd never so much as put on makeup. Generally a girl's mother might have introduced her to the idea, but her mother had been the firm practical sort who had never worn makeup herself either, so Anastasia had gone without. The thought of letting someone cut into her to make her 'prettier'... well, that was something she could never really understand.
"Yes, my face is real." 'Original' would have been a better choice of word, but Anastasia couldn't remember how to say it in English, so 'real' would have to do, even if it was implying that Eun-Yul's face was somehow 'fake'. Anastasia supposed that it sort of was--it wasn't what she was supposed to look like. She'd manipulated herself permanently, not to disguise herself (which was a perfectly acceptable use of plastic surgery as far as Anastasia was concerned), but instead for personal beauty. "I don't like it." She didn't remember 'Plastic Surgery' either, but she opted to clarify her words rather then leaving it vague. "The cutting."
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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Post by EUN-YUL MOON on Jan 24, 2014 19:25:07 GMT -8
"You say you like," Eun-Yul reminded, a small step closer to the taller girl and staring up at her with a searching intensity. "My eyes." Not looking for reassurance, she was curious if knowing that they were a result of surgery changed Anastasia's opinion on liking them (if it was indeed sincere in the first place), or if it was some personal stance taken on whatever moral grounds that she applied to herself alone or to everyone.
Of course it was easy for a naturally pretty girl like Anastasia to decide it was unnecessary for herself, and a girl that didn't even wear makeup probably had other preoccupations anyway. Eun-Yul never had much of a choice to ignore it, living in Gangnam amongst the ridiculously wealthy and plastic surgery clinics full of customers on every corner, appearances were an easy target for insecure teenage girls. At least she could appreciate the artistry of makeup to not feel too disappointed in herself when she reached for the eyeliner every morning.
Or maybe it was just the cutting itself that turned her off, the process instead of the results. That'd be a bit disappointing. She didn't like squeamish girls. Instead, she reached up with the intention of grasping the curve of Anastasia's jaw, forgoing any polite asking of permission.
wow fantastic baby TAG Anastasia TIMESTAMP May 19th
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for jelly only okay |
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Post by ANASTASIA SOKOLOV on Jan 28, 2014 12:09:10 GMT -8
The whole thing was getting somewhat complex. Anastasia had picked the girls eyes to compliment more or less at random. She hadn't picked them because she really liked them, but instead because they seemed alright enough, without anything clearly wrong about them. Why had she even picked them at all? What had made it stand out? Hair and eyes were the two things that were easiest to compliment for her, although less because of Anastasia's understanding of the aesthetics of beauty, and more because she couldn't begin to guess how to explain 'shape of your face' or 'cheekbones' clearly in English to an average person, let alone someone who was working through their own language barrier.
And she was lucky. Anastasia had a whole lot of traits that could be considered naturally pretty. Her hair was the sort of blond that a lot of American's dyed for. Her eyes were a deep blue, and her face was pleasing enough. The rest of her ended up pretty because she worked, although she wasn't working with beauty in mind. She was lean because she was fit, and she wasn't one of those girls who could do what she wanted and still end up skinny. No no, Anastasia was skinny because she spent hours working out and practicing, punching at a bag until her muscles screamed in agony.
"I liked the color." Her eyes seemed to match her hair, and were so dark a brown that they seemed nearly black to Anastasia. It made them seem strange and interesting to someone who was used to eye colors on the lighter end. There was a whole lot of brown and hazel to be sure, but of a much lighter color then Eun-Yuls.
The hand coming up to her jaw was unexpected, but Anastasia was not unprepared. Realistically speaking she was almost never unprepared. Living in a military family, raised by two people who had both been involved in the Spetsnaz meant a whole lot of vigilance that was mostly uncalled for in the modern day. She deftly stepped backwards, right hand reaching up to knock the hand away--as if it had been carrying a knife.
Only if she had been carrying a knife, Anastasia would probably have done more then frowned once she was done.
EUN-YUL MOON | MAY 19TH, 2PM |
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