Rhov
Rhov's dark eyes blinked in surprise at Asen's choice in tattoo. The elegant curve and swirl of the design drew him in an almost hypnotic effect. Feathers the color of flame scorched across the page, burning bright in comparison to the cool colors of its background. Bold and bright, the red feathers reminded Rhov of the last burst of dying light before the sun yielded to the night. In fact, it occurred to Rhov that the feathers scrawled on the parchment rather resembled those on his Guardian, Eria. The Chaktawe smiled slightly at coincidence, onyx gaze lingering briefly on the page before his focus shifted back to Lichenan.
"Right. Me first then," Rhov affirmed as he drifted towards the booth in which his tattoo would be created. He paused for a moment before parting the curtain which separated the stall from the cloistered halls of the market, curious as to why Lichenan was not behind him. Eyes dancing with curious intent, Rhov relaxed as he
realized that the tattoo artist was taking a sketch of Asen's ring.
After finishing his quick draft of the silver-plated ring, Lichenan turned towards Rhov with a mirthful jaunt in his stride. The Svefra placed a tanned hand on Rhov's shoulder, giving the bounty hunter an expectant gaze. Rhov stared blankly back at the man, thoughts far too dulled to pick up any sense of nuance. "It'll be about 6 gold mizas," he began, pausing after Rhov handed him the money. That expecant gaze resurfaced as Rhov stood unmoving in the doorway. "Yer shirt lad. Take off your shirt."
Rhov stumbled slightly at the man's request, blindsided by the fact that, one, he was still wearing a shirt, and, two, he needed to take off. Then, an easy slant of intelligence peaked out from his drunken haze as he realized that Lichenan couldn't very well give him his tattoo through his shirt. Clumsy hands fumbled for the edges of his light linen shirt, struggling with the piece of fabric's ardent refusal to yield to Rhov's will. Finally, after what seemed like a solid minute of struggle, Rhov conquered his shirt's attempted rebellion. Grinning at his victory, Rhov strode into the tattoo both with an air of confidence.
Before him lay a simple table, cloaked in a sheet of white and a few pillows for comfort. Lichenan motioned for Rhov to lay flat on the table, mouth half cocked to explain his intention to the inebriated Chaktawe. However, through some grace of the gods and goddesses, Rhov's ale-soaked mind understood to sweeping motions of the Svefra. Stumbling onto the table in a whirling mess of limbs, Rhov managed to sprawl his body across the table. The Svefra Brown leather obscured his blurred vision as Lichenan once again instructed Rhov, "Here. Bite down on this, it'll help some with the pain. Not that you'll be feeling much of it anyway, with all that ale on your breath."
Bright white teeth pieced dark brown leather as Rhov followed the artist's instructions obediently. "Sanks for da tiph," Rhov started, both unaware and uncaring of how the object in his mouth altered his speech. Lichenan then moved to strap the Chaktawe to the table, the buckles of brown leather cooling his skin and holdig him secure should he attempt to move during the drawing process. A small burst of laughter seeped out of the edges of his mouth as dark ink danced across his skin. Lichenan's pencil drew with delicate precision as the edges and shapes of Rhov's intended tattoo sprang to life. When the image of the serpent eating its own tail finally came to fruition, the Svefra's steady hands reached for the needle.
Pain, bright and blaring, blossomed into slow existence as the Lichenan's needle dug into the bronzed skin of Rhov's chest. Rough edges of the image became more and more defined, the snake seemingly slithering itself deeper within the layers of Rhov's skin. The Chaktawe spat out the leather which was placed in his mouth in anger as the creeping spiral of pain pierced the drunken veil which overcast his mind. Strings of curse erupted out of Rhov's mouth, first in Common, and then in his breezy native tongue. Had the straps not held him, Rhov would have undoubtedly ruined the tattoo through his movements.
The process carried on for about half a bell, Lichenan's steady hand dancing across Rhov's skin and Rhov spitting out angry curses as the needle dug into his chest. At last, the Svefra removed his calloused hand from Rhov, taking that dreaded needle with it. The straps holding Rhov slid off with an easy grace, and he rolled off the table with them. Black hair now matted with sweat, the Chaktawe's head turned downward to inspect his new tattoo.
OOCWoo! 50ith post! Also, sorry for the delay in response. Graduation combined with real life drama kinda overtook my life for a bit.
"Right. Me first then," Rhov affirmed as he drifted towards the booth in which his tattoo would be created. He paused for a moment before parting the curtain which separated the stall from the cloistered halls of the market, curious as to why Lichenan was not behind him. Eyes dancing with curious intent, Rhov relaxed as he
realized that the tattoo artist was taking a sketch of Asen's ring.
After finishing his quick draft of the silver-plated ring, Lichenan turned towards Rhov with a mirthful jaunt in his stride. The Svefra placed a tanned hand on Rhov's shoulder, giving the bounty hunter an expectant gaze. Rhov stared blankly back at the man, thoughts far too dulled to pick up any sense of nuance. "It'll be about 6 gold mizas," he began, pausing after Rhov handed him the money. That expecant gaze resurfaced as Rhov stood unmoving in the doorway. "Yer shirt lad. Take off your shirt."
Rhov stumbled slightly at the man's request, blindsided by the fact that, one, he was still wearing a shirt, and, two, he needed to take off. Then, an easy slant of intelligence peaked out from his drunken haze as he realized that Lichenan couldn't very well give him his tattoo through his shirt. Clumsy hands fumbled for the edges of his light linen shirt, struggling with the piece of fabric's ardent refusal to yield to Rhov's will. Finally, after what seemed like a solid minute of struggle, Rhov conquered his shirt's attempted rebellion. Grinning at his victory, Rhov strode into the tattoo both with an air of confidence.
Before him lay a simple table, cloaked in a sheet of white and a few pillows for comfort. Lichenan motioned for Rhov to lay flat on the table, mouth half cocked to explain his intention to the inebriated Chaktawe. However, through some grace of the gods and goddesses, Rhov's ale-soaked mind understood to sweeping motions of the Svefra. Stumbling onto the table in a whirling mess of limbs, Rhov managed to sprawl his body across the table. The Svefra Brown leather obscured his blurred vision as Lichenan once again instructed Rhov, "Here. Bite down on this, it'll help some with the pain. Not that you'll be feeling much of it anyway, with all that ale on your breath."
Bright white teeth pieced dark brown leather as Rhov followed the artist's instructions obediently. "Sanks for da tiph," Rhov started, both unaware and uncaring of how the object in his mouth altered his speech. Lichenan then moved to strap the Chaktawe to the table, the buckles of brown leather cooling his skin and holdig him secure should he attempt to move during the drawing process. A small burst of laughter seeped out of the edges of his mouth as dark ink danced across his skin. Lichenan's pencil drew with delicate precision as the edges and shapes of Rhov's intended tattoo sprang to life. When the image of the serpent eating its own tail finally came to fruition, the Svefra's steady hands reached for the needle.
Pain, bright and blaring, blossomed into slow existence as the Lichenan's needle dug into the bronzed skin of Rhov's chest. Rough edges of the image became more and more defined, the snake seemingly slithering itself deeper within the layers of Rhov's skin. The Chaktawe spat out the leather which was placed in his mouth in anger as the creeping spiral of pain pierced the drunken veil which overcast his mind. Strings of curse erupted out of Rhov's mouth, first in Common, and then in his breezy native tongue. Had the straps not held him, Rhov would have undoubtedly ruined the tattoo through his movements.
The process carried on for about half a bell, Lichenan's steady hand dancing across Rhov's skin and Rhov spitting out angry curses as the needle dug into his chest. At last, the Svefra removed his calloused hand from Rhov, taking that dreaded needle with it. The straps holding Rhov slid off with an easy grace, and he rolled off the table with them. Black hair now matted with sweat, the Chaktawe's head turned downward to inspect his new tattoo.
Tattoo :
OOCWoo! 50ith post! Also, sorry for the delay in response. Graduation combined with real life drama kinda overtook my life for a bit.
