#hinatea

[islandstylecrochet]

Working on my next CAL shawl pattern inspired by the Maori Goddess, Hinatea! This part of the process is my fave 💖🤔🙌🏽💖 . . #ilovethisyarn #ilovethiscotton #islandstylecrochet #knittingaddict #knitter #knitaddict #knittinglove #knitting_inspiration #crochet #crochetaddict #crochetlove #crochetersofinstagram #crochetlife #crochetgeek #crocheting #crochetlover #crocheteveryday #crochetgram #yarnaddict #yarn #yarnlove #yarnlover #shawl #hinatea (at Fayetteville, North Carolina)

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

ABNORMAL DAYS: MONOBEAR FILE | Hinatea Kudo

VICTIM NAME: Hinatea Kudo TIME OF DEATH: 2:57 am LOCATION OF BODY: Mizu Underwater Dome - Dorms - F Block Toilets  CAUSE OF DEATH: Severance of Medulla Oblongata

For more information, please investigate or ask questions. 

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

DETAILED BODY DESCRIPTION

Again, the murder contains disturbing content that includes: general gore, blood, neck trauma, body distortion/horror, and dislocation. Please be careful. If the text-only description is still too much, please contact a GM or mod and we will work with you to make a more censored description.

[MUSIC]

A pair of wide open blue eyes meet yours when you enter the room. There were only two people in this digital hell with eyes that blue or hair that red; now only one remained. It’s only afterward that thought runs through your mind that you fully register the scene around those eyes.

The contorted form of Hinatea Kudo lays slumped against the far wall, her face frozen in a permanent expression of agonized terror, devoid of the apathy that shielded her pride and her heart. She’s devoid of anything that she would take pride in -- it’s only all too clear that the girl was clad in only her pajamas, what with her hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head and the bat slippers on her feet. Hinatea doesn’t even appear to be wearing her makeup -- and oh, had she been so careful not to be seen without it for so many years, only to be broken on sparse occasions before this.

This wasn’t how she wanted to have died -- not at all. No one wanted to die in a way that made them more vulnerable than they had ever appeared while alive, or in a bathroom where their blood could roll along the grout between tiles as it was now.

Oddly shaped freckles and drops of blood cover her skin -- as does writing, placed carefully, oh so carefully, onto her, as though she were a canvas for someone’s twisted idea of poetry. Twisted wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the robbery of life, but it was a rather fitting adjective for the state of her body: her arms were unnaturally posed in positions that would not be natural for a human -- her leg right leg is debased at her hip, and then the knee is broken against how it is supposed to fold, breaking her skin and exposing her femur; her right arm, in kind, is twisted behind her at a painful angle, as though someone invisible was holding it behind her back with the intent to harm her; and lastly, her left arm was, entirely, dislocated from it’s shoulder joint, and it’s elbow brutally broken, skin pierced by bone that was shattered in the process.

The worst of all, though, is her neck. Her neck -- the skin is folded and stretched alongside almost being torn torn from the muscle, and… Can you see bone…? As for her face, blood is trickling past her bloodless lips, and, after glancing over those wide, petrified eyes, you see another word on the freckled skin of her forehead.

You step away, trying to focus, but this is… This is so much to take in. What’s around her? What can you look at that isn’t her mangled form?

Behind her, on the wall she’s propped up against, hearts are painted in nothing other but her blood. A singular word is spelled out -- what is it? Do you recognize it? Or are you more distracted by the shattered mirror to her right?

Who wanted to hurt Hinatea, and who wanted to hurt her this much? She was blunt and brash, perhaps even rude, but she’d never hurt anyone enough to deserve this -- had she?

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

Abnormal Days - Moonset

By the time the students that slept in Kaze arrived, the students living in Mizu were long already there, and it appeared they were indeed suffering — there stood the Sea Captain Monobear with nothing other than the dreaded otamatone in his paws, giving the kids a concert against their will. However, standing in the hub for a few moments leaves you to realize something.

There’s blood everywhere — small circles of it on the ceiling, the walls, the ground… Just about every single flat surface has a brutal touch of fuschia to it. A feeling of anxiety rises among the group.

What happened?

The “music” stops, and Monobear gestures towards the group before setting out down the hall to Dorm Block E, where the drops only get more plentiful.

“C’mon. Body ain’t gettin’ any deader.”

Journeying down the hallway only increases the feelings of unease, as the spots of blood seem to multiply. By the time you reach what must, undoubtedly, be the scene of the crime, they’re just about everywhere, looking more like polka dots than actual bloodspray. The body was inside the bathroom of Dorm Block E.Monobear begins to play something like a dirge, which would be fitting, if it wasn’t played by someone with no fingers and an otamatone.

A pair of wide open blue eyes meet yours when you enter the room. There were only two people in this digital hell with eyes that blue or hair that red; now only one remained. It’s only afterward that thought runs through your mind that you fully register the scene around those eyes.

CAUTION: The following murder art contains disturbing content. Please be careful. There is a text-only version for those who do not wish to see the art.

[ TW: GORE, BODY HORROR, DISLOCATION, NECK TRAUMA, BLOOD ] 

The contorted form of Hinatea Kudo lays slumped against the far wall, her face frozen in a permanent expression of agonized terror, devoid of the apathy that shielded her pride and her heart. She’s devoid of anything that she would take pride in -- it’s only all too clear that the girl was clad in only her pajamas, what with her hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head and the bat slippers on her feet. Hinatea doesn’t even appear to be wearing her makeup -- and oh, had she been so careful not to be seen without it for so many years, only to be broken on sparse occasions before this.

This wasn’t how she wanted to have died -- not at all. No one wanted to die in a way that made them more vulnerable than they had ever appeared while alive, or in a bathroom where their blood could roll along the grout between tiles as it was now.

Oddly shaped freckles and drops of blood cover her skin -- as does writing, placed carefully, oh so carefully, onto her, as though she were a canvas for someone’s twisted idea of poetry. Twisted wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the robbery of life, but it was a rather fitting adjective for the state of her body: her arms were unnaturally posed in positions that would not be natural for a human -- her leg right leg is debased at her hip, and then the knee is broken against how it is supposed to fold, breaking her skin and exposing her femur; her right arm, in kind, is twisted behind her at a painful angle, as though someone invisible was holding it behind her back with the intent to harm her; and lastly, her left arm was, entirely, dislocated from it’s shoulder joint, and it’s elbow brutally broken, skin pierced by bone that was shattered in the process.

The worst of all, though, is her neck. Her neck -- the skin is folded and stretched alongside almost being torn torn from the muscle, and… Can you see bone…? As for her face, blood is trickling past her bloodless lips, and, after glancing over those wide, petrified eyes, you see another word on the freckled skin of her forehead.

You step away, trying to focus, but this is… This is so much to take in. What’s around her? What can you look at that isn’t her mangled form?

Behind her, on the wall she’s propped up against, hearts are painted in nothing other but her blood. A singular word is spelled out -- what is it? Do you recognize it? Or are you more distracted by the shattered mirror to her right?

Who wanted to hurt Hinatea, and who wanted to hurt her this much? She was blunt and brash, perhaps even rude, but she’d never hurt anyone enough to deserve this -- had she?

thank you maho for the AMAZING death art this week!

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

Hinamatsuri || Hinatea & Hyouri || Chapter 6, Abnormal Days

The sun had risen once and set twice between the announcement of the motive and where Hinatea lay now, on her back on her bed, reading absently. It was what was left to pass the time -- she'd since beaten Cave Story and, though her lust for a normal life was something that exceeded all other desires, Animal Crossing had lost its appeal. All she could seek comfort in now was Mary Shelley and the scientific woman's many works. She was brilliant, really. 

The sound of a sharp rap at Hinatea's door took her rather by surprise -- her book was unceremoniously dropped on her face in reaction. Rubbing a bruised nose (and a bit of a bruised ego), the girl made towards her door, but... Hesitated.

The motive was out. There was a strange, unannounced knock at her door. Who could it be? Someone wouldn't be so stupid as to murder in broad daylight, would they? Her question answered itself with a mental image of Kaori's crushed form. The girl paused; she wouldn't have time to pull out a weapon...

After a few moments more, the door was cracked open with the girl holding one of her hiking boots, ready to strike --

"Hi-Himeno-san?"

Hinatea dropped the boot immediately upon seeing his face. 

"Di-did we ha-ha-have an arr-arrangement to meet?"

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

Got Updog? || Hinatea & Sora || Chapter 6, Abnormal Days

Monobear's newest idea to further plague the students reached Hinatea's keycard promptly, but remained ignored for several minutes after his voice finished trilling. After all, she wasn't going to bother herself with the arduous task of spot fixing -- her nails were still drying from the latest application of paint. That, and black polish was liable to be more annoying to scrape off of the screen of her keycard than not.

As such, Hinatea arrived to the bridge between islands a few minutes late, but in time to get an earful of just what they were being tempted with this week: control of the Kaze Isles. As far as she could reason from the bear's emotionally tempered monologue, the killer would be able to rearrange the order of isles at will.

Hinatea frowned. Usually, she was prone to comment on the uselessness and frivolous nature of the blood-seeking opportunities present to them. However, this one... If there were countless other isles, as Monobear said, there was positively no telling what could be on any of them. Another thought branched into her mind: if Kaze can be manipulated, what of Mizu? Was that going to be dangled in their faces at a later date?

The crowd dispersed after a bit, and Hinatea found herself, once more, upon the Isles of Kaze with little to do. Revisiting Shion in her room struck her fancy, but Hinatea hesitated to follow through. Would she be imposing? What was the protocol for the frequency in which you visit friends? Was there a sort of social norm -- or would she be overstaying a welcome? Likely, it was best not to risk the unknown. Instead, why not feed her curiosity a measure?

[LOCATION CHANGE: Bridge between Isles --> Storm Forest]

It took a fair few moments to walk there, but when Hinatea stood at the entrance, she was utterly taken aback. This place -- she wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but -- it was... Beautiful. Glass towered above her, containing light provided by electric charges. A blue sheen hung over the place -- blue from lightning, or from the clouds? Either way, it stunned the chiropterologist. 

Something that did not surprise her, however, was the sound of approaching footsteps. Hinatea turned to find herself looking at none other than the boy who was framed in the trial previous -- Nishida-san, whose first name utterly alluded her at the moment. Hinatea raised her brows -- did he frequent this place, or did something draw him here?

Nevertheless, a greeting was in order. She gave him a short, casual bow before speaking.

"H-Hello, Ni-Ni-... Nishida-san."

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

Electric Symphony || Hinatea & Shion || Chapter 6, Normal Days

Closing the door on Hyouri left Hinatea to stare blankly at the center of the dorm pod. Where was she to go after this? It was too early to turn in, surely. The girl pursed her lips before checking her keycard, only to find that it was actually a lot later than she had previously assumed. What had happened? Usually, trials exhausted her -- all the fighting, all the lying, all the low blows and fanfare -- and left her wishing to curl up in bed. Now, she had the opportunity...

And such, she did. The girl simply made her way to her block's bathroom and showers, and cleaned up before reaching her room. Text messages flowed forwards and backwards from her phone as she took the time to scribe an entry in her journal. Despite her better efforts to remain regular in the cataloging of her own life, a few days had slipped between her fingers. But did she really desire to have a play-by-play of her emotional state for the last few weeks? It was what she promised -- she had assured her mother that, with her new diary, she'd keep inventory about everything that happened to and around her at Hope's Peak Academy.

She wasn't at Hope's Peak Academy. Hinatea wasn't surrounded by the most prosperous of Japan's youth; no, she was surrounded by death, murder, and lies. Her mother wouldn't want to read that. She wouldn't want to know that...

Hinatea fell asleep with the picture in her mind of the last family dinner she had had.

The dawn of the next day brought the rise of a sleepy chiropterologist. Her morning routine continued flawlessly -- it was, however, strange not to style her hair in loops. The amount she had cut off for Hyouri was still throwing her off, along with the curls. Wearing her hair down was so ridiculously foreign...

What had drawn her to the Kaze Sky Hotel was almost entirely beyond her. Kaze was, indeed, a new venture, but she didn't particularly care about new ventures, especially at a time like this. Perhaps something familiar in this strange landscape would do her well.

After a brief ride in the elevator, Hinatea arrived at her desired floor, and took a brief moment to double check her writing before knocking on a door.

"T-Tsuzuki-san?"

[shsl-doubttsuchi-blog]

Lift With Your Knees || Hinatea & Unconscious Hyouri || Monobear Theatre into Normal Days

"H-Hi-Himeno-san..."

Hyouri Himeno had remained on the cold floor of the trial room for the duration of the execution, which seemed to be ample reason for the chiropterologist not to divert attention from him. Instead of turning to look at the electronic musician being stolen away by chains and cuffs, Hinatea was feeling Hyouri's wrist for a pulse. It was there, but faint -- as was his breathing. Perhaps he was in a state of comatose shock? Her lips twisted into a frown -- how, in this entire class of exceptional students, didn't they have someone with a talent that was closer to a field of medicine or biology? Hyouri wasn't chiroptera. None of her expertise could be of any use here.

The tell-tale sound of the elevator doors opening prompted another question. How, per say, was Hyouri supposed to leave Trial Island if he was out cold? She dare not ask anyone to help move him -- she had voted for Date, Shin Hayashi was not a man she sought to ask favors from, and the man who stood beside her at trial... She had no idea who he was, at all. This was quite the predicament. 

Idly, she watched as Shin Hayashi entered the elevator, closing the doors before anyone else could enter. She glanced at Masuyo, whom he had just given a dressing down to -- if it could be called it; it merely seemed as though he were playing a tug-of-war to establish dominance over anyone who dared speak against him. A misuse of whom... Japanese wasn't Masuyo's first language... What a petty thing to comment on. However, more applicably, Masuyo seemed exhausted. Hinatea dare not burden her soul friend with such a heavy deed. If Daichi were here -- 

But he wasn't.

It appeared that the job fell to her.

Hinatea straightened up, rising to her feet, and dusting off her skirt. The small girl then began to do stretches -- she reached to her feet, stretched her shoulders, and leaned to the left and right to prevent cramping in her core. As an afterthought, her pale pink creepers really weren't suited for this, but it wasn't as though she could put on Hyouri's dress shoes instead. They wouldn't even fit. What a ridiculous notion.

Though she much rather leave Kana on the island, grudgingly, the girl tucked the ningyou into Hyouri's jacket pocket, extracting his keycard in the process, before trying to prop Hyouri into a sitting position. Him being unconscious wouldn't help -- it wasn't like he could lock his legs around her for support. She crouched before him before positioning his arms over her shoulders, and after a bit of struggling, Hinatea managed to get a firm grip on the back of his thighs. With a bit of grunting, she hoisted the unconscious teenager onto her back, and made towards the elevator.

This was certainly going to be a taxing journey.

By the time the elevator had reached the Isles of Kaze once more, Hinatea was trying to pretend that she didn't feel tired. Hyouri must weigh at least twenty kilos more than she did -- she wasn't even used to carrying that weight of equipment when she spelunked. Still, she was already this far along. She may as well just try to hold out, for his sake. 

Hinatea walked with heavy steps to the time hoop, passing through to Mizu with the man still deeply succumbed to a comatose state. Each step grew more and more difficult to take -- getting to the dorm sector itself was simply a challenge. She was definitely going to have a strained muscle or two, no doubt.

Upon reaching Hyouri's door, the chiropterologist struggled to untuck the keycard from her dress' outrageously convenient pocket and support Hyouri at the same time. Frustration and physical exertion was balling in the form of perspiration on her brow. Holding up the card to the scanner was a bit of a challenge, but the moment the lock clicked, it was as though she was privileged to a breath of pure oxygen. She staggered into his dimly lit room and as soon as it was possible, unceremoniously dumped Hyouri onto his mattress.

Finally, she could breathe. Hinatea doubled over, resting her hands on her knees. Goodness, that was the most exercise she had had in weeks. She was in danger of getting out of shape at this point. Why couldn't they have found a weight room somewhere between Kaze and Mizu?

Hinatea took a couple moments to recover before retrieving Kana from Hyouri's jacket, sitting her on his desk chair, and tossing a blanket over the ningyoushi. She set his keycard beside his bed, on the table. Surely, he'd wake up and contact her at some point... But it may be best to leave him a text explaining the situation.

Hinatea exited the room as quietly as possible. Best to let him rest.