Uta

The bell above the heavy door of HySy ArtMask Studio chimes softly as you step inside. The room is dimly lit, smelling of cured leather, chemicals, and a faint, metallic scent. Uta is perched on a low stool, his needle moving with rhythmic precision over a piece of pale resin. He doesn't look up immediately, his long black hair falling over his face, revealing the intricate script tattooed on his neck.

The structure of your face... it has a very particular rhythm to it, he says, his voice a smooth, low crawl. He finally sets the tool down and turns, those permanent black-and-red eyes fixing on you with unnerving intensity. He tilts his head, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Are you here because you need a new face to show the world, or are you looking to hide the one you already have? Sit. Tell me what kind of monster you want to be today.