Painted Flowers

#ooc #i just had some really bad news and my datemate isn't talking to me so i'm sorry if on top of work i'm basically just. invisible this week #sitting here crying at my computer so yeah i figured i might as well give a blunt heads up

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 didn’t know how to protect her fellow artiste, and Minarus’ face when she gets revealed that she’s going to die breaks what there is of Hanaes’ 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 doesn’t 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 she’s intrigued; a clean room, with colors blooming? It’s like some sort of technological thing. Yet, the paint reacts, and Hanaes’ 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. It’s just a joke, right? That was a facsimile or something. There’s no way paint could do that. She knows it, she absolutely knows it, but… but something irks her about the way Minarus’ 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. She’s arrested from her attempt to flee by a beautiful butterfly… er. What she’s 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.

i’ll be alright

Hanae Moto wakes up the next day half-blinded and completely dumb. She’s 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, it’s not a good thing. It’s 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

t́͢͞͝ẁ̵̕͜͝i̡͢͡r̵̨͢l͏̧i̵̢͏̢͠n̴̢g̶̸͢͠͞ ̀͘͝ẁ̢͡i̧͢͟n̶̸̵͜d̀͡ì̵̧̀͡n҉̸̨҉g̷̡̡̀ ̕͠d͜͟r͟͟ơ̡̧̛͜p҉̀͞p̷̨̛i͢n͘͞͝g҉̷̢͜ ̶̢͘͜d̵̛͞͡͡o͢ẃ̨ǹ̡̀̕ ̸͏ ̕̕͟ḑ̢r̵o̧͘͟͢p̶̷͟p̴͟͡i̴̢̡̕͢n̴̡͟g̸̛͟͜ ̴̡҉d̕͠e̸̸̵҉͡a̶͢d҉̧̛

More time passes, that Hanae doesn’t remember.

When she surfaces, she eats. Showers. Gets caught in the rosebushes outside of Taikis’ 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 doesn’t care. Things go undone. Her pre-paint sketchwork fades away as she picks up a pencil and doesn’t remember where or how she could go. There’s nothing there. You’d think she’d be used to this, after– 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. There’s a point, however, where she’s active enough to feel warm, and away she goes, in time for the body announcement.

Hanae stares at Villanys’ 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.

#ic post #chapter 2

welp

I’m so sorry I’ve been absent ahhhh we’ve hit the second busiest time of the year for me especially in regards to work and it won’t clear up until post new year’s!!! i’m so sorry ;w;

#ooc

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 wasn’t like he was going to complain. She lived there, not him.

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.

“Nice place you got here. Though your colors are a tad bit….obtrusive.”

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.

“Alright then, little painter, where do you want me~?”

(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? He’d have to find more hot sauce to dump on them, however…

Sheng did not flinch as water was flung at him. A grin grew wider underneath his mask.

“Fufufufu, so I’m 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.”

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.

“Mmm, keep making egg rolls like those, however, and I’ll take off as many clothes for you as you’d like me too. If you still think you’re up for the challenge, I suppose. I won’t blame you if you get intimidated halfway through.”

Sheng please.

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.

#ic #abndays #chapter 1 #hanae #sheng

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.

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.

“Hmmmm, could be spicier, I think.”

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.

“Body painter, hm? My, my, my, your knowledge of the human body must be quite…extensive if that is your talent. What a coincidence, I am pretty knowledgeable on that topic myself. At least, it’s flexibility~.”

Easy there, Sheng. He chuckled and tapped a finger softly against his cheek as he contemplated the offer.

“Hmmm, well, you gave me egg rolls. So long as you paint something really badass on me, I guess I don’t find the idea completely revolting. If a cute stranger wants me to take off my shirt, who am I to deny them?”

#ic #abndays #chapter 1 #hanae #sheng #HANAE JUST STOP

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 I’m picky enough to not finish something. So it’s 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]

Sheng’s 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.

“Homemade ones, huh? Well, it sure beats take out I suppose. I like spicy, so go nuts.”

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.

“Fufufuf. Feeding me my favorite food then trying to get me out of the kitchen? You sure move fast, don’t you, little painter~. It’s a good thing I’m quite flexible with my schedule now isn’t it?”

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.

“You’re a painter, then?”

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.

#ic #abndays #chapter 1 #sheng #hanae

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 student’s 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 didn’t know.

“My 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.”

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:

“Egg rolls.”

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.

#ic #abndays #chapter 1 #hanae #sheng

How To Train Your Dragon || Hanae || Habitual Days || Ch1 [ATTN: Sheng]

"Well, I mean, if you want to volunteer-"

#ic #abndays #prologue #machiko #machiko-chan

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 cirque’s 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.

A simple routine to cope with a discomforting situation, not that he cared too much either way.

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 he’s met could do, and he’s 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.

“I like that one. You can never go wrong with dragons if you want to do something badass.”

"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.

#ic #abndays #chapter 1 #hanae #sheng

PING. It's a text message, to one of the unfortunate roommates of Machiko. [ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧ 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, it’s one of her roommates. She taps out a quick reply.

[hello! i’m hanae! i’m 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. [ (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ hi!!! ] Nope, not at all .

Hanae stares at her phone.

She sends back a text:

[h...hi?]

Baby.

#ic #abndays #neil #shslnails

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 headmaster’s proposal to stay with the school for a month or two before getting everything set up with producers and record companies, but she hadn’t 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 wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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 her…she must be a painter of some sort. A body painter…? Admittedly, she skimmed over the list of names while making room assignments, so she couldn’t connect faces to names or talents. What a great supervisor you are, Machi.

External image

“Hey, are you doing alright?”

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.

#ic #abndays #hanae #prologue #machi