#shslsoleil

[shslfolkmusicianarchive]

shslsoleil started following you shsldmmarco started following you shsl-curiosity started following you

"Oh, guten abend! I'm Tanja Yilmaz, SHSL Folk Musician, it's a pleasure to meet all of you!"

[shslcopsandrobbers-blog]

A box of pegs fell on the floor (OPEN)

Nicanor wasn't really interested in academics. Sure, he would listen during classes, answer questions, and (occasionally) study for exams, but he wasn't one to crack open a book just for the hell of it. To find him in the library was a rare occurrence and although the no talking rule was in place his irritation spoke rather loudly whether or not he was actually expressing his anger verbally as he glared at the shelves, muttering to himself as his fingers traced idly the spines.

"Why's this damn thing so hard to find? Tch if I had just been a little more careful I wouldn't've left it out in the open. Augh, this is why I hate libraries...!"

As he muttered furiously to himself he took a quick glance to the side and noticed another student studying the shelves a few yards away.

"Hey have you seen a chisel lying around?" he called in a normal register, completely ignoring the glares and "ssh"s coming from the other students.

[shsl-mentalist-trio]

im following you BECAUSE YOU'rE COOL ))

Hnnng me not cool I’m a big dork!

[shsl-mentalist-trio]

"I already regret this."

"Now now… I know I’m not the best lab partner, but we’ll get a good grade in the end, trust me~"

[shsl-mentalist-trio]

"I can’t even look at you."

"Heh…" The words stung, but he hid it behind a smile. "I’m not surprised. I know I’m nothing worth looking at…"

[shslinventor]

Missing mother (Closed to shslsoleil)

He was never the best at playing piano. Even so, there was one song that Victor Bamford was particularly good at playing. Back when he was a child, he made an effort to learn it in order to impress his mother, despite the complex nature. Her mother was fond of Chopin's works, particularly Nocturne 20 .  Finding himself in the music room, the boy ran his fingers over the keys and played the familiar tune that his deceased mother enjoyed so much. Even now, if he played it, he would feel as if the woman was sitting beside him, petting his tiny head. Those were the good times.... The times before he had to rely of that other self in his head.  A smile fell to his face as he quietly played the tune, not really expecting an audience. So when he appeared, the boy stopped playing instantly. Perhaps it was his shy nature, but he was frightened to have someone listen to him. They probably were telling him to stop. To step away from the piano, as he was no good at it.  Hesitantly, he watched as a boy made his way to the room. "H-hello?" He asked.