fandomhigh | Creative Inspirations

The class had been ~~hand-wavily~~ instructed to wear simple clothes they didn't mind getting soiled, and to leave an extra set in the classroom. If any of the students were worried about this...well, they could probably take a cue from Hannibal, who was in jeans and a t-shirt today. (Metallica. What? He didn't have many of his own.)

Jono, who was in a black-jeans-and-plain-black-t-shirt combo, would miss that shirt. Ish. Dearly. Ish.

//Right, so this week we'll be making a trip to Korea, in July, to take in the Boryeong Mud Festival. Which... is pretty much exactly what it sounds like.//

And he sounded maybe a little too delighted about this. So sue him.

Hannibal was already having flashbacks to Woodstock, but at least this time the point was to be muddy, rather than it being an unpleasant side effect.

And admit it, Jono; seeing Hannibal in that shirt was worth it.

"There are a number of mud-related activities, from bathing and wrestling to giant slides using it. There are also colored muds for body-painting. There is a beach nearby if you prefer not to get muddy, but in that case, be certain to stay well away from the festival - anyone caught within it not muddy will be imprisoned until they are."

//It's a mud prison,// Jono explained. //It's all meant in good fun. You're not actually going to jail.//

He had to glance at Hannibal just to make sure, though.

Hannibal shrugged. "You'll simply be placed in a large cage with other non-muddy people and blasted with a wave of mud until you do become muddy. Or until we leave. So - the beach, or the festival. Unless that mud prison sounds like your sort of thing." He wasn't judging.

"They're quite used to tourists, and there are a good number of Western military bases around, so language shouldn't be a problem. Please let one of us know if you need anything, though. Agreed?"

And with that, their portal arrived.

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Muddily!

One of your teachers is entirely too excited about this, considering he's still half-wrapped in leather under that t-shirt he's wearing and will probably come to regret this shortly. The other... is wearing one of Jono's other t-shirts and is probably better off.

Or go to the beach and be boring.

Don't be boring.

Official site (http://www.boryeongmudfestival.com/)

After being directed to shower off in one of the school's change room showers, or at the very least hose yourselves off outside before changing into cleaner clothes, students are free to create! Clay sculpture, anyone? Finger paint?

Once they tag in!

Mud mud mudmudmud! You'll all have wonderful complexions after this.

Hannibal was opting for a mud massage; it ended up being even more soothing than he had anticipated.

Freshly showered and back in the classroom, he was trying his hands at a canvas. Literally - though he was using acrylics, he had decided upon fingers in lieu of paintbrushes.

At the festival itself, no holds were barred. If you were participating in the muddy stuff, Jono was probably going to be lobbing handfuls of the stuff at you.

... Back at the classroom after getting as cleaned off as he possibly could, he was mostly going to spend his time thankful that he'd brought spare wrappings, and picking pieces of grit from the ones he'd worn to the festival. Which was kind of like being creative, if you squinted and had very low standards.

He probably could have planned for that one better.

"Will we need to have those professionally cleaned?" Hannibal asked, looking over at him.

//No,// Jono muttered. //Try explaining 'yes, we need to have the mud cleaned out of several meters of leather binding' to any cleaner, see them have a heyday with that. I'll probably end up replacing them. Would hardly be a first.//

He did seem to have an unfortunate tendency to mutilate them in the case of emergencies, when he didn't have time to properly unwind them.

And he did seem to find himself in the middle of a good many emergencies.

"Rolling around in mud to inspire students to make art" was not an emergency, Jono.

Hannibal gave him a look. "I'm happy to do so, if you like." He could be very persuasive.

Jono contemplated that, looking down at the heap of squidgy wrappings all piled up in his lap.

...

//Er... if you want to. It really isn't the end of the world if I need to get new ones, but if it's not terribly inconvenient to get these cleaned...//

Hannibal shook his head. "Set them aside and enjoy the class. I'll get them cleaned for you."

Dante

"Never thought I'd volunteer for jail," Dante muttered.

Still, why the hell not? It looked fun.

And if by the end of it he had painted red mud marks all over himself, eh. It looked cool, damn it.

There was finger paint? Seriously?

Dante took it out first because the idea made him laugh. But soon he was poking at the canvas anyway, drawing sweeps of red hair, soft blue wings, and a face with no features.

The white paint was gonna come out again before class was done.

//Thank you,// Jono murmured gratefully, gathering up the mess of wrappings in his hands and walking over to find a plastic bag or something to shove them into. //I'm not wearing them as often as I used to these days, what with the time we're spending back at the Jean Grey School, but it'd be a waste to just toss them, I know.//

There was a pause, and then he glanced back over his shoulder.

//How many problems do you think it would cause if I started going without around here...?//

He'd been mulling on that question for a while.

It was just... this was his face he kept hiding.

Hannibal thought about it for a moment. "Most of the adults have been here for some time; there are few who don't know you. The ones who don't, and the students who aren't acquainted with you already, might be taken aback at first. After that, barring those who may have visceral reactions to fire in general," Dracula, "I think you would encounter a lot of curious looks, and possibly questions."

He smiled at Jono. "You know I'm of the opinion that you should do whatever makes you most comfortable. I don't believe anyone here would attempt to do you harm save as an initial startled reaction, and I don't believe it would cause any long-term problems." He chuckled. "I do wonder why you've waited until it will be getting colder to ask, as you'll likely want to stay wrapped up for winter, but things happen in their own time."

Cosette Fauchelevent

Cosette didn't wear modern clothing very often in Fandom -- she actually liked the distinction of her period garb, even if it was an extra hassle -- but she did have a good amount of it, mainly for going out on the mainland with her father.

Some of which happened to be of the grubby variety, because of course their family bonding time involved community service projects.

So it was perfectly within the realm of possibility that she had some fairly worn-out jeans and a plain dark grey t-shirt. Maybe it was a little jarring, given her usual attire, but . . .

Well, why not. She was having a lot of fun playing in the mud by the end of it, even if her hair would take forever to wash out later.

Maria DeLuca

In a break from his own painting, Hannibal wandered by and nodded at Dante. "I thought those seemed to fit the general mood of the day. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Eh," Dante said. His fingers paused where they were skimming over a wingshaft. "At least my fingers are getting a workout."

Hannibal chuckled. "I've never looked at art as exercise, but it should always be a hands-on experience."

She was in good company as far as not usually dressing this way. Hannibal smiled at her as they headed back. "You enjoyed yourself, mademoiselle?"

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Creative Inspirations | Monday, period one

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