I donât have another blog for this but JESUS CHRIST I MISSED THE SEMESTER OF DESOLATION ENDGAME AND I ONLY HAVE MYSELF TO BLAME SINCE I LOST EVERYONEâS SKYPES AND NEVER GOT YURO TO READD MYSELF TO THE CHAT

JBB: An Artblog!
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@shslbodypaint
I donât have another blog for this but JESUS CHRIST I MISSED THE SEMESTER OF DESOLATION ENDGAME AND I ONLY HAVE MYSELF TO BLAME SINCE I LOST EVERYONEâS SKYPES AND NEVER GOT YURO TO READD MYSELF TO THE CHAT
nothing we can both control | Hanae | Reaction To A Lot Of Things
tw: zalgo text
go ahead and say goodbye
Voting for Minaru was wrong. Hanae knew that, but she also didnât know how to protect her fellow artiste, and Minarusâ face when she gets revealed that sheâs going to die breaks what there is of Hanaesâ heart, not that the body painter has been proven to have a heart after all at this point. She watches Minaru get whisked away and she lets out a soft whine deep in the base of her throat, her neck starting to flush red. She doesnât want to be here, stuck in this room, stuck with these people that she barely knows.
Hyperventilating slightly, the body painter forces herself to look at the screen, look at Minaru, look at the ground. At first sheâs intrigued; a clean room, with colors blooming? Itâs like some sort of technological thing. Yet, the paint reacts, and Hanaesâ eyes widen, as she takes in that the paint is reacting to Minaru, and then Minaru falls into the blue and Hanae gags before stuffing her left hand into her mouth, biting down on the tender part to keep herself from screaming or throwing up⌠who knows?
Minaru dies, and she tries to reassure herself. Itâs just a joke, right? That was a facsimile or something. Thereâs no way paint could do that. She knows it, she absolutely knows it, but⌠but something irks her about the way Minarusâ body was reacting to everything. There was no way robotics was that good; of that Hanae was sure. Sickened further, Hanae stumbles out after the rest of the group back toward the cottages. Did she pack some ibuprofen? Her head is killing her.
However, as they move forward, there is a unforeseen sight that Hanae would rather wish not to see. She stares at Machi with a blank sigh, a garbled noise coming deep from her throat. Sheâs arrested from her attempt to flee by a beautiful butterfly⌠er. What sheâs sure is probably a butterfly person. This is really, really weird. She hums deep in her throat, before walking off as he does. She has no interest in that. Not at all. She barely makes it back into her room in the cottage before falling to the floor, sobs racking her throat, her headache pulsing.
iâll be alright
Hanae Moto wakes up the next day half-blinded and completely dumb. Sheâs still passed out on the floor, a crick in her neck, and she rolls to her knees, coughs ripping from her dry throat. She stumbles to her feet, then passes out in her bed again. There she stays, sleeping away the pain and the hurt and the fear away. No, itâs not a good thing. Itâs not how you should face her life, how she could take control, but her control has been slipping for years, it slipped away when she was a child, and ever since then the worlds been whirling whirling
tÍÍ͢ÍwĚĚľÍÍÍi̥ͥ͢r̨̾͢lÍ̧i̢̾ÍĚ˘Í n̴̢gÍ Í˘Í̸̜ ÍÍÍw̢ÍÍĄi͢Í̧n̸̜̾ÍdÍĄÍi̧ͥ̾ÍÍnŇ̸̨ŇgĚĄĚĄÍ̡ Í ĚdÍÍrÍÍoĚĚĄÍȨ̌pŇÍÍp̡Ę̌i͢nÍÍÍgŇĚ˘ĚˇÍ Ě˘ĚśÍÍdÍÍĄÍĄĚĚľo͢wĮ́nĚĚĄÍÍ Ě¸Í ÍĚĚḑ̢rĚľoÍ̧͢ÍpÍ̡̜pÍĄĚ´Íi̴͢Ě̢̥nÍĚĄĚ´gÍĚĚ¸Í ĚĄĚ´ŇdÍ Ěe̸̸̾ŇÍĄa̜͢dŅ̌Ě
More time passes, that Hanae doesnât remember.
When she surfaces, she eats. Showers. Gets caught in the rosebushes outside of Taikisâ room and nearly kills the poor dear out of fright. Now scarred with the flowers she seems to love the most, she makes her way back to her room. She doesnât care. Things go undone. Her pre-paint sketchwork fades away as she picks up a pencil and doesnât remember where or how she could go. Thereâs nothing there. Youâd think sheâd be used to this, afterâ well, after a few days.
But things change people.
Things hurt.
go ahead and make me cry
The motive is announced and Hanae, barefoot in a pair of small shorts and a tank top, stares wordlessly at Monoches. She treks back to her room, trying to find anything that might remotely be able to keep her warm. Finding very little due to her preferred, admitted method of showing as much skin as possible for her artistry, she goes out of her room again and finds a friend, inasmuch as she can have a friend, when she feels like she really has fallen down the hole into Wonderland. Thereâs a point, however, where sheâs active enough to feel warm, and away she goes, in time for the body announcement.
Hanae stares at Villanysâ body for awhile, her gaze distressed yet apathetic. She says nothing, she does nothing, for all the world a not so lovely living, broken, doll.
welp
Iâm so sorry Iâve been absent ahhhh weâve hit the second busiest time of the year for me especially in regards to work and it wonât clear up until post new yearâs!!! iâm so sorry ;w;
danseurpoet is my new Skype Tell me who you are if you readd me pls.. Ty
Pretty sure your skype got hacked. Someone IMed me on it asking for me to send them money in broken english and didn't reply to any of the security questions I asked them. This is, um, one of the only ways I know to contact you now so ha ha, better hope they didn't hack your tumblr too. Please message me when you get a new skype account. I've told Lee, Morgan and anyone else who might be mutuals.
Fuck Thank you
So it looks like my Skype got hacked. Don't reply to any messages.
How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]
Sheng pays no mind to the messiness of the room. His room has its messy spots here and there as well, so it wasnât like he was going to complain. She lived there, not him.Â
Still, his eyes wandered around the room curiously, one hand still toting the bag of leftover egg rolls while the other fiddled with one of his earring absently. The amount of paint supplies was about the only impressive thing in there. Sheng did not move for a little while before sighing and smirking over to Hanae.
âNice place you got here. Though your colors are a tad bitâŚ.obtrusive.â
He said it in more of an observing tone rather than one meant to insult. The recovery was quick afterwards, however, as clicked his tongue softly.
âAlright then, little painter, where do you want me~?â
(Moved to private!)
How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]
This girl had more spice than these egg rolls, Sheng could not help but notice with an amused quirk of his eyebrows. He gently nudged his own plate away, vowing to eat them a bit later when he was sure that he would get to be alone. Maybe they would be a good midnight snack? Heâd have to find more hot sauce to dump on them, howeverâŚ
Sheng did not flinch as water was flung at him. A grin grew wider underneath his mask.
âFufufufu, so Iâm the perfect canvas am I? How flattering, how flattering. But, you know, it might be a challenge for YOU if anything. A contortionists body is meant to bend in more ways than you could imagine.â
As if to nonchalantly prove his point, he twisted and bent his arms around his body in a variety of ways, torso itself stretching unnervingly sideways as he chuckled under his breath and went back to leaning on the counter after a few moments of lithe limbed stretching.Â
âMmm, keep making egg rolls like those, however, and Iâll take off as many clothes for you as youâd like me too. If you still think youâre up for the challenge, I suppose. I wonât blame you if you get intimidated halfway through.â
Sheng please.Â
Hanae watches him contort, and her eyes practically glowed in delight and awe at seeing this as up close as she did. She really loves strange things, doesn't it - contortionists might creep or freak other people out.
At his words, however, her mouth curves into a small smile, and she calmly gets out a thing of aluminium foil from a nearby cabinet instead of replying, neatly packing up the egg rolls before washing the dishes, keeping him in nearabout complete silence before she hands the rolls over to him.
"Keep the rest. You might need them for endurance."
Oh, /harsh/, Moto.
She swings the basket of her supplies into her elbow and gathers up the artwork.
"Are you coming?"
With that, Hanae exits.
[Kitchen -> Tulip Cottage, Room A]
Hanae's room is ... well, let's put it as a interesting disaster. All of her art stuff is already pulled out and scattered around the bedroom, and her bed is unmade, and generally it looks as lived in as if it had been about a few months rather than a week. Lots of bold, bright colors.
How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]
Body paint? Sheng quirks an eyebrow at this, gaze questioning for a few moments before being distracted as a plate of fresh egg rolls was presented before him. Without even waiting to check if they were cooled enough or not, he plucked one up between his fingers. It remained there for a few moments, rolling between his digits as he contemplated actually eating it right then.Â
Similar to how she ignored him, Sheng did not respond right away. His fingers were coated with a fine layer of oil by the time he lifted up his other hand. Hooking it against the bottom of his mask, he lifted it up. Not enough to come fully off, in fact, barely enough to make the smallest hole possible. He took a bite of the egg roll and put his mask back down.
The taste of spice burned his cheeks and tongue. It was wonderful.
âHmmmm, could be spicier, I think.âÂ
He put the eggroll back on the plate, taking his time in actually eating them. Eating around other people with a mask on was rather difficult, after all.
âBody painter, hm? My, my, my, your knowledge of the human body must be quiteâŚextensive if that is your talent. What a coincidence, I am pretty knowledgeable on that topic myself. At least, itâs flexibility~.â
Easy there, Sheng. He chuckled and tapped a finger softly against his cheek as he contemplated the offer.
âHmmm, well, you gave me egg rolls. So long as you paint something really badass on me, I guess I donât find the idea completely revolting. If a cute stranger wants me to take off my shirt, who am I to deny them?â
Hanae steps away from the plate when she finishes her second egg roll, leaving the other two there. She deliberately and thoroughly washes her hands in the sink, even making sure she's getting her fingernails. Don't want Sheng getting the smell of pork egg rolls and paint at the same time, right? At his spicy comment, she tilts her head back over her shoulder, raising one eyebrow.
"Hey, I asked. You said spicy. Should've said spicier."
She finishes washing her hands and goes to wipe her hands off, flicking her fingertips at him with a small smile.
"I kind of have too. Knowing how a muscle moves allows me to judge how a paint should go, to make sure it doesn't get distorted, knowing how the body moves helps me making literal living, breathing, art. Of course, I only pick the /best/ canvases... and sometimes Iâm picky enough to not finish something. So itâs a challenge to be my canvas."
Her small smile broadens into a smirk.
"So, it's a challenge! You, the perfect canvas, me the perfect artist. Of course, I could go bolder and better, if you were.. willing to take off just a touch bit more clothes?"
Hanae please oh my god.
How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]
Shengâs surprise was visible only for a moment. His eyes flickered as Hanae got to work. He instinctively took a few steps back as she gathered things. His gaze was low and cautious, like an animal unsure of its surroundings. His arms had dropped to his sides and he flexed his fingers once. Twice. Three times while his thumbs rubbed against bits and pieces of string embedded into his hands.Â
âHomemade ones, huh? Well, it sure beats take out I suppose. I like spicy, so go nuts.â
His tone was still lazy, very casual, but brimming with mild amusement. Anticipation for the future food about to be offered. With so much activity, he had to keep his body as well fed as possible after all. He gave up trying to stand around and found a nice, clear spot on the countertop to rest himself against. Arms crossed over his chest, Sheng watched from a distance while silently contemplating the offer presented before him. A grin scrunched up under his mask again.
âFufufuf. Feeding me my favorite food then trying to get me out of the kitchen? You sure move fast, donât you, little painter~. Itâs a good thing Iâm quite flexible with my schedule now isnât it?â
His pun was absolutely intended, if not only appreciated by himself. A question nagged in the back of his head and one hand moved to tug at an earring.Â
âYouâre a painter, then?â
Hanae catches the surprise, and she flicks the hint of a impish smile at Sheng before she finishes her work. While the egg rolls are frying, she sets up a cooling and drip catching pan for the excess oil. She doesn't bother replying to him for a few minutes, having a momentary glimpse of underlying sass before she rolls out the hand and a half of egg rolls onto the pan and she gets the oil turned off.
"Body painter, yeah, specifically."
Hanae then ignores him for another good ten minutes or so for clean up, until there's two plates, each with four egg rolls on the counter between her and Sheng. It also means they aren't completely tongue burning, but will still be nice and hot and crunchy.
"Sure, I mean, if you're willing. Also we shouldn't do it in the kitchen because while the paint's non-toxic, we still don't want to contaminate the food with it. Basic safety pr-precautions, after all."
"After all."
Her gaze flickers to him.
"If you have a willing canvas, why wait? All you do is put off the... inevitable."
There's a pause, before she bites into her egg roll.
How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]
Sheng watched the girl trapped against him slowly turn. Her wandering eyes made the sides of his face crinkle upwards in an amused sneer. Though it was barely visible under the mask he wore, you could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Despite his mistake, he did not seem the least bit deterred or inclined to draw any attention to it.
Instead the tall boy shut the cabinet above him and removed his fingers from the other studentâs art. He peeled his body away from hers, but not much further than it already was. Personal space? What on earth was that? Sheng certainly didnât know.
âMy point stands. Dragons are badass. Fufuf, what, are you really having this much trouble deciding on just what to eat? You must be a really dull person. The answer is so plain, anyways.â
Sheng bent his arms behind his back, purposefully stretching out his muscles and torso as his eyes closed in gentle concentration. His bones creaked softly under the strain, but not enough to cause concern for the back bender. After a long, overly-dramatic pause his eyes opened again. He did not move from his stretching position as he stated, in a very casual manner:
âEgg rolls.â
Hanae's dark eyes flicker to his frame as the contortionist puts his talent to good work, a considering noise escaping her lips. Didn't she hear about someone with a talent that could do stuff like that? Or was she just imagining things? She didn't really have the best memory for stuff that wasn't related to her talent, but she shakes her head. She'll remember his name or get it from him later, before she slides against the countertop, away from Sheng.
"Egg rolls. That's a good idea, yeah. They probably have premade wrappers here, anyways."
Hanae strolls through the kitchen collecting her supplies, pork, cabbage, carrot, onions, seasonings, the egg rolls. She's surprisingly at home in the kitchen considering her talent, but cooking /is/ artistry, if you really think about it. Egg rolls don't take that long to cook, anyways, even as she spends a few minutes frying the pork and vegetables and spicing them as she starts the fryer.
"Extra spicy, spicy, or mild? I normally go spicy."
Yes, evidently Sheng will get a share of the egg rolls. Fair is fair, right?
"Anyways, if dragons are so cool, you want one? It'll take a few hours, but we'll have egg rolls and lots of free time. Probably shouldn't do the paint in the kitchen though."
When she gets his reply, she finishes spicing, then starts rolling the egg rolls and dropping them in the heated oil.
How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]
"Well, I mean, if you want to volunteer-"
Sheng slid into the kitchen without a sound. Indeed, years of lurking barefoot around circus tents in the dead of night, stealing food from the chefs without so much as breathing, and fearing the worst punishment that could come of ruining the cirqueâs food count had prepared him for almost any silent entry. It was caution bred from years of repercussion, not out of want for stealth or much caring. Though, all he really wanted to do was go in, grab a snack, practice contortion some more, and then go to bed.Â
A simple routine to cope with a discomforting situation, not that he cared too much either way.Â
Seeing another person in the kitchen already surprised him, caution walling itself higher and higher around Sheng as he padded softly through the area until he was all but hovering over Hanae. Bored red eyes scanned obtrusively and judgmentally over her shoulder as the boy took in the sites of the paintings. Even more impressive then what any of the artists heâs met could do, and heâs met a lot of artists.
Two hands reached over Hanae, one pointing to a particularly fierce-looking fire breathing dragon and the other yanking a cabinet above them both open with a heavy creak. A single threaded finger jabbed towards the dragon and a muffled, bored tone filled the silence he had entered in.
âI like that one. You can never go wrong with dragons if you want to do something badass.âÂ
"Well, I mean, if you want to volunteer-"
Hanae's voice has a audible thread of panic in it, and she's just barely keeping herself from wheeling around and backhanding Sheng as the contortionist leans over her.
"B-but, uh, I was referring to the food, not my art--!"
Pause.
"S-so unless you have an offer for that?"
She slowlllly turns around from the counter to face Sheng properly, resting the curve of her back against the countertop, as her gaze falls naturally to his chest where it starts going into his stomach. Her gaze very slowly wanders upwards to his face, then it slowly wanders back down south. There's a considering noise, then she repeats the trip again before her gaze finally settles on his face, and there is a 'good view' sort of appreciative thing going on.
Thanks for checking him out, Hanae.
PING. It's a text message, to one of the unfortunate roommates of Machiko. [ŕŹ(ŕŠËęłË)ŕŠâ§ hello!!! it's your great new roommie, machiko~ let's have fun together, and hope we still get along by this time tomorrow~]
Hanae blinks! Oh, itâs one of her roommates. She taps out a quick reply.
[hello! iâm hanae! iâm in room a! i hope we still get along too! ^u^]
You got a text message! It must be important because it was an immediate ping. [ (*â˘Ěá´â˘Ě*)Ů ĚĚ hi!!! ] Nope, not at all .
Hanae stares at her phone.
She sends back a text:
[h...hi?]
Baby.
Start Menu | Machi | Attn: Hanae
Now that the little meet and greet was over with, Machi let out a breath she was holding. She agreed to the headmasterâs proposal to stay with the school for a month or two before getting everything set up with producers and record companies, but she hadnât expected to get put in charge of a bunch of high schoolers.
(Never mind that she was barely out of high school, herself.)
She kept her eye out for any students that looked more confused than usual. The explanation they got wasnât the best, so she needed to stick around the fountain for a little longer to make sure no one had any desperate questions. She kept a hand on her ID card, as well, in case any texts popped up.
For all her worrying, no one seemed to have any problems, though. That certainly wasnât a bad thing, of course. It was a relief, if anything. No questions meant she was free to go off and do her own thing. Minaru probably wanted her to get some stuff done, but it was only the first day and Machi barely knew the area any better than everyone else.
After finishing setting up her room in the Rose Cottage, she returned to the fountain, where she had been seated earlier. It was a nice central location to return to in a beautiful courtyard. She wanted to go do some more exploring before getting some work done, but this was probably also a good time to get some personal hellos in. Although she could tell she came off as distanced from the students, it was a good idea to get to know them if she was going to be in charge of them.
Machi approached a girl. With that paint all over herâŚshe must be a painter of some sort. A body painterâŚ? Admittedly, she skimmed over the list of names while making room assignments, so she couldnât connect faces to names or talents. What a great supervisor you are, Machi.
External image
âHey, are you doing alright?â
Well, that was a little awkward, but good enough.
When Hanae hears a voice, she jumps a good fifteen feet in the air. Well, okay, that's hyperbole, but she's still startled, and she wheels around, her green eyes wide before she focuses on the figure of- one of her upperclassmen, that was it, wasn't it? She remembers the cute little earphones they've got going on, and her brain mentally reaches out for straws as she struggles to remember their name before she finally blurts out a jumbled series of words.
"C-chiptune artist! Um. Oh! Ma-machi-san!"
Good job, Hanae, you'll get a cookie later from yourself for remembering.
She brushes her arms around herself, giving herself a hug as she shifts her weight on her bare feet - yes she ditched her shoes already.
"Um, well, I'm doing well! S-sorry!"
Her cheeks flame an incredible shade of embarassed red. Good job, Hanae. At least you're trying; that's all that really matters, doesn't it?
"I'm -- uh, Hanae! The body painter. But you probably figured that one out already, didn't you?"
She looks ready to melt into the ground and become a flower herself. Poor dear.
"Begin At The Beginning," || Hanae || Prologue [ATTN: Nanase] || Garden
Tokyo was a grand place, and Hanae was frightened by it. The small body painter had made her way onto the train with some relief, her eyes flickering back and forth between all the other students, her classmates, taking a deep breath in. A small, small area, surrounded by people she doesnât know⌠thereâs an exhalation, a small sound of what could be panic, before she breathes out sharply.
After that, she headed into her small train compartment to work on a body paint. After all, they canât yell at her if itâs too late to notice it! The food is well received but for the most part, away she hides, and works.
However, when they get to âWonderlandâ⌠well, Hanae perks right up.
The rose and vine wearing artist barely pays attention to the rules at hand - oh, sheâll remember them for later, but right now thatâs not her focus. Her focus is instead on the area that theyâre in, from the carpeted walls to everything else, and finally, finally theyâre set free to go explore. She does track where her room is, dropping off her set of bags, before she bursts out back into the sunlight with a giggle.
Well, thatâs .. probably adorable.
Checking the maps, she immediately treks southward from the Tulip Cottage into the Garden. Hanae doesnât waste much time looking around before dropping to her knees in the dirt, humming happily. Are we sure she didnât miss her mark as a SHSL GardenerâŚ?
Oh, well. There she is, ready to be bothered.