Open The Ink Under My Skin

[Razkar]

59th Day of Spring, 513AV
Anchorage Flotilla
8th Bell

He knew that the water wouldn't be warm that early in the morning, but that was half the point: it would wake him up. Syna was still yawning on the horizon, despite it being long into Spring, and her rays had yet to touch the sea lapping against the Cuttlefish. So when the Myrian stepped into it from the netting fastened onto one side, it send tendrils of cold shuddering up and down his body.

"Ruros' cock..." he muttered in his mother tongue, bracing himself for what he had to do next "Fine... let's get it over with-"

With that he let go of the netting and speared his body straight down into the cold Suvan, letting it eat its way from waist to shoulders and then past his head-

-meaning no-one heard him yell like a little girl under water.

"Fuck, that's cold!"

Someone would probably have heard that, however, as he surfaced, automatically kicking his legs and flapping his arms like a bird, just like Edreina had taught him. After a few chimes, he was surprised to find that the temperature had... well, gotten used to him. Or vice versa. Whatever Laviku wills, he thought with a soft grunt. Well, now we're acclimatized...

The Myrian let himself fall back, arms spread... legs kicking gently... until he was laying back just like he'd been shown. Once he was comfortable and away from the netting, he kicked a little harder, moved his arms in slow, smooth motions... and found the scenery changing around him.

Razkar chuckled as the docked ships drifted past his eyes. "Thank you, Edreina..."

Two lengths he went, from the Cuttlefish to a barnacle-covered brig named the Barracuda (and didn't Captain just pass kittens whenever he saw the lubberly condition of a fellow captain's ship). Once he was done with that, the Myrian felt confident enough to start his work out in earnest... and launched himself off the side of the Barracuda on his stomach, arms moving like a windmill.

Down... lift... turn... breath... down... lift... turn... breath...

Edreina made it seem so fluid, so simple, so... easy, but Razkar knew that a novice like him would need to watch himself. Even as his legs kicked and his arms moved, the mantra repeated through his mind, over and over, as the water rushed against his face, stung his eyes...

... and his outstretched hand hit the side of the Cuttlefish. Razkar smiled to himself in triumph, but when his vision cleared and he shook away the saltwater from his hair, there was a new shadow looming over him.

And the Myrian smiled up at the halo of red hair.

"What you do waking, mistress? It is early."

[Edreina]

For many years no, Edreina had been attempting to work up the courage to get a tattoo. Something about the ability to mark one's skin, to be a moving piece of art, fascinated her. She always saw other Svefra with such beautiful, swirling patterns of ink on their skin, showing their devotion to Laviku and to the sea. After getting the the freckles beat off her skin by Razkar, Edreina figured that she could handle the pain of a tattooist's needle. Speaking of the dark-skinned devil, Edreina heard a foreign shout echoing off of the ship from her perch on her parents' palivar. The child of the young couple that lived with them had woken Edreina up a bell or so earlier with it's raucous wails. Being the kind of person that cannot return to the realm of dreams after leaving it, Edreina had decided to sit upon the railing with her hands - still split and bruised from the savagery - resting in her lap. When the shout rang out, Edreina recognized that it was not Common nor Fratava; that warranted it worthy of a curious investigation. Her family's palivar was not far from the Cuttlefish; Edreina arrived upon the empty deck within a few lazy minutes. Immediately, her ears were assaulted by the discordant rhythm of an amateur swimmer. Razkar... she thought with a small smile, shaking her head. Heading over to the railing, she surely enough saw his dark form flailing... um... swimming... through the water. Personally she was just glad she did not come upon him drowning with all the damned noise. Grinning, Edreina walked over to the deck and leaned upon it with crossed arms, legs sliding apart slightly so that she was not garishly standing with her rear in the air. He's not too bad... she had to admit to herself with a wry smile, for a land-strider. When he finally reached the Cuttlefish's side once more, out of breath and shaking like a shaggy child, it took him a moment to notice that he was not alone. Blinking up at her - Oh that's right! Most people don't adjust to the salt-water like we do... - it took a fraction of a second for him to note what was happening before he grinned broadly. "What you do waking, mistress? It is early." "Early for you, perhaps. Not so much for me." Because of the way that their ships were built, most Svefra tended to leave their doors and hatches open to let in the light of morning so that they could wake and begin chores. If one left their ship unreachable by Syna's light, there was always the possibility that they would sleep through to the next night. Edreina took a step back as he pulled himself onto the deck. "What are you doing up so early? Your splashing has woken the entire Flotilla!" She joked now that a few others had begun to emerge, stretching and yawning and laughing and cursing as they went about their morning routines. Perhaps he would like to come and get a tattoo too... Up until that point, Edreina had not truly set herself on the decision. But, seeing the bedecked Myrian who had taught her actual pain solidified the decision.

[Razkar]

"What are you doing up so early? Your splashing has woken the entire Flotilla!"

Razkar put on a face of exaggerated insult, frowning deeply, mouth open, hand fluttering over his heart.

"What? Poor savage cannot take care of body without barbarian taking offence? For shame, Edri..."

But a moment later he was chuckling at her, dunking his face in a barrel of fresh water and taking a long, deep slurp from it at the same time. He threw his head back out and a cascade of dark hair followed him in an arc. As he settled back onto the deck, he felt the coils of it settle around his shoulders. Razkar had to admit, he quite liked keeping his mane unrestrained by a topknot or ponytail. Goddess knew what his own people would think, though...

Noticing that Edreina was strangely silent, he glanced over and found her eyes studying his tattoos. The Myrian smiled softly. It was natural, he supposed. He couldn't think of another race on Mizahar who had such a practical passion for inking their skin as his own did. He followed her eyes... and tapped the artwork on his right upper arm.

He turned slightly, letting her see it in detail. It was a woman, fierce and terrible but beautiful. She frowned... and saw that the top half of her head was the glaring, snarling visage of a wolf, but the bottom half was human... or Myrian... or would have been, save for the yellow, snake-like eyes she had instead.

"All ink has a story," he intoned solemnly, but with that same smile on his face, "This one? Great friend of mine, name... Wolf." He laughed as if at some private joke. "Well, name is not Wolf, but that is name to me. Name she has for me is Eagle. She wear wolf pelt on head, so my people not see her eyes."

Some strange, old sadness took his features and he sighed, patting the tattoo again as if comforting it.

[Uleru]

"Will you tell it to us? The story, I mean." The moldings chin rest on the railing of the ship as a disembodied head near the water barrel. The rest of her draped over the hull so that her ankles trail in the water. Her expression is oddly serene, and not the lest bit concerned that she has been eavesdropping on their conversation. She has a weakness for stories. If he has a tale for each tattoo, he must have lived a long time for each of those stories. How long do Myrians live? Maybe they don't have a lifespan either. She puzzles over this as she unabashedly rakes over his body with her eyes, then looks at Edreina and winks playfully. "Do you have a story to immortalize, love?" OOC : Oh god, I have never written such a short post before. You'll get yourself a nice long one when I get home.

[Edreina]

When he first pointed to the tattoo, Edreina wondered quietly if that was what his Ayatah looked like. She was pretty, surely, beneath the fierce expression and half-wolf face. Wonder what that could mean... "All ink has a story. This one? Great friend of mine, name... Wolf.Well, name is not Wolf, but that is name to me. Name she has for me is Eagle. She wear wolf pelt on head, so my people not see her eyes." Why would she not want people to see her eyes? Edreina wondered it silently, fearing to ask with the sad look that crossed Razkar's face. "Will you tell it to us? The story, I mean." The Otani's voice was so unexpected that Edreina jumped, eyes widening as she spun with a whirl of flaming hair. Surely enough, Uleru was suspended from the railing by naught but her chin. It was comical, but Edreina's heart was still racing from the surprise to the point that she was unable to do anything other than glare playfully at Uleru and hope that Razkar's reaction is not as explosive as before. When Uleru winked after eyeing Razkar's form, Edreina blushed brightly. She had been trying to ignore how lovely the water made his bare skin look and how but better he looked with his hair down, less severe and savage, more carefree and friendly. Perhaps that was the effect that the Anchorage was having on him... Shaking her head quickly, but unable to douse her flaming cheeks, Edreina suddenly found a very interesting pattern in the wood at her feet that demanded her rather pointed attention. "Do you have a story to immortalize, love?" Edreina knew that this question was directed at her, but found herself unable to answer. Did she really have a story worthy of immobilization or was a tattoo just another one of her whims. Just as she began to contemplate it, her attention was caught as her gnosis moved from where it had been resting for several days now - the inside of her ankle - to the top of her foot where it continued to splash and bubble merrily. Perhaps Uleru was rubbing off on it... "I'm not quite sure... to be honest. I- ... There are so many things that come to mind but I fear that I would only regret it in the future..." It was true. Even as she thought it so many possibilities came to mind and with each one a part of her self questioned it. So many moments in her life which she could ink into her skin for all to see. But, what moment was worthy?

[Razkar]

Razkar jerked his head around at the new voice and then started perhaps worse than Edreina when he saw who it belonged to. His hand moved in a blur as his lips curled back into a snarl, an ever-present blade suddenly in his hand.

The Otani just giggled at his presumption, even when his eyes narrowed and he spoke, fury meaning only his native tongue was applicable, "Come no closer, sea witch, or I'll drag you from your home onto the deck and watch the sun bake you into nothing."

A fine threat, very poetic, and one he knew he'd probably not be able to make good on. Whatever these... Otani were, easily killed was not one of them. A punch to the face didn't even faze them and the Myrian didn't even know if a blade wouldn't pass right through them, or his hand if he tried to grab them. So he just kept his distance and growled, especially when her eyes roved over him in a way he definitely did not approve of.

"Do you have a story to immortalize, love?"

He was grateful for any distraction from the moment, even if it came from the mouth of the sprite. Edreina was apparently friends with the beast, and he did not want to concern her too much. But whenever he looked at the Uleru, he felt the unnatural, moist salty taste of her cheek on his lips and his gorge rose again.

"I'm not quite sure... to be honest. I- ... There are so many things that come to mind but I fear that I would only regret it in the future..."

Razkar's eyes flickered from the Otani to the Svefra and his blade lowered fractionally. There was much turmoil and hesitation in the female's words, something he did not care for. Perhaps because he understood it.

"Think of body as canvas," he finally said, voice mollified by his directing it at her, rather than the Otani. "Gods gave us all canvas, on skin. When decide to paint on it, not an easy thing. Is much pain, and last forever." He nudged closer to her, pulling his wet hair back from his shoulders into a rough ponytail. "But when you feel picture is right, and story is right, you will know, and know you will not regret."

Razkar spread his arms and then shuffled around on his knees so she could see the spiral of skulls covering most of his back. The Svefra's eyes widened slightly, already guessing what they stood for.

"Every skull is life." He said simply, voice as respectful as he could make it, despite the fact many of those represented on his back were hated enemies. "So each is story. Many of ink I have is glory to Myri-" he tapped the ocular tattoo on his forehead as an example "-like this, and skulls. But more are for those I care for. For adventures. For those I love..."

The Myrian's hand brushed over the ornate picture covered the rest of his left arm, depicting the pale-skinned female and dark-skinned male battle a monstrous tiger... and then the one over his heart.

A woman with flowing, beautiful locks of hair, but glaring out from his breast at the world with a challenge in her eyes, strong face etched with strength, and twin gladii crossed her her, across what little of her chest was depicted.

"My mother." Razkar said, voice now even lower. "She killed in battle. We remember on our canvas. We carve the dead into our skin. We make them part of us..."

The male shook his head, deciding it was too early for such melancholy and morbidity. Edreina was a grown woman, surely, but she did not seen the horror and pain in her life that he had. So this was probably not the best way to convince her.

"You find your decide," he said, settling back and shooting a black look at the watching, tail-swishing Otani. "You know when you ready, when you see or when you have adventure you want to show world on your skin." He shuffled uncomfortably, shoulders hunched a little. "Not want rude to you, but does petching sea witch have to be here?"

[Uleru]

Edreina's reaction, though surprising to the point of cute, is nothing compared to Razkar's. With a jump and a snarl he whips around with his blade drawn at precisely hacking hight. And Uleru, after she blinks in startled surprise, openly giggles at his pomp. Feeling strangely flattered that he feels threatened (or angry) enough to bring out the works for little old Uleru. And although he may not be able to hurt her with the sword, she has to realize that a warrior like him could still nail her to the deck with it before she'd even have time to throw herself overboard. And his words, though she understands none of it, is in a language that sounds like gravel under a large boot. Though more like gravel soaked in ferocity and beautiful savagery, and a boot made of pride. But its the way its delivered with dripping hatred that tells her that his words of greeting are not particularly wholesome. "I missed you too, sweetheart", she teases. And although her smile is genuine (she really did miss her most interesting oddity) it still manages to be impish. When Edreina voices her hesitation at the thought of a meaningful symbol, Razkar drops the snarl and explains the reasons for his own embellished skin. And this is the first time she has ever seen him so gentle, and her so attentive. They have an undercurrent to their relationship that she cant read, and counld'nt even guess what it means, but its very obvious the bond runs strong in both of them. The Otani is so lost in his stories that she is caught off guard when the Myrian leans closer to Edreina and whispers: "Not want rude to you, but does petching sea witch have to be here?" "Oh ho!" laughs the moulding "watch your language, Razkar, their are ladies present", she simpers in a good impression of a snobby Syliran wife. "Besides, you are completely wrong." Uleru pulls herself aboard with a swing of legs and shoulders, and she sits cross-legged on the railing like a roosting albatross. "If you are to decorate your body like a canvas, Edreina, don't wash it with grief and heartbreak, and don't do it for the dead. You'll do nothing but carry that sadness around with you like a parade of ghosts! The dead are with the gods and don't give a lick about what happens here." she states, not unkindly, but with a narrow concentration she sometimes adopts when she feels its important she not be distracted. "If you will carry a mark on you, don't let it pity the dead, but remind you of the living. Carve yourself with stories and love and adventure. Every part of you should be on display!" she continues happily, making a wide, all-encompasing motion with her arms. "And if you mark yourself for your god: don't just honour him, celebrate him! Laviku is the god of bounty and beauty and life and tempestuous storms! He deserves no less!" She grips the railing between her legs and leans forward, obviously enraptured with the idea of something so meaningful. "A tattoo would be a wonderful way to remind you how much you have, not how much you lost, eh?"

[Edreina]

Edreina had not really ever paid attention to the sheer amount of detail in the tattoos adorning Razkar's body. Hell... She had been too preoccupied with the body itself. But now, she began to examine the tattoos a bit more closely. The woman and man on his arm. Was that Ayatah and Razkar? He had said that they saved one another... And the woman on his chest. His mother? She was so beautiful... Razkar must have taken after his father. Edreina snorted with the thought but waved away the attention that the reaction garnered, shaking her head. His tattoos actually meant something. Each one carried something powerful. "You find your decide. You know when you ready, when you see or when you have adventure you want to show world on your skin." His words were oddly encouraging. Maybe one day when she managed to work up the courage to venture off for more than a few days, she would have an adventure worthy of being inked into her skin. "Not want rude to you, but does petching sea witch have to be here?" When he leaned in to mutter that, Edreina glared playfully and shoved him, sending herself falling to the side slightly as the Myrian did not budge. Righting herself, she rolled her eyes. "No, she does not have to be here. But she wants to." She turned and grinned at Uleru as the Otani made a rather comical reaction of her own. As expected, Uleru had her own input and it was vastly different from Razkar's. Surprisingly, Uleru seemed bound to her conviction and, to be quite honest, Edreina found herself much more in favor of Uleru's philosophy. "If you will carry a mark on you, don't let it pity the dead, but remind you of the living. Carve yourself with stories and love and adventure. Every part of you should be on display! And if you mark yourself for your god: don't just honour him, celebrate him! Laviku is the god of bounty and beauty and life and tempestuous storms! He deserves no less!" It was hard not to get caught up in Uleru's joy and fantasy. Immediately, a moment came to mind. Years ago, when Zindr was leaving to join another pod and Edreina was leaving to go off on her first solo adventure, the three siblings had met upon the palivar that they had grown up on. Under Leth's light, the siblings made a vow that no matter how much of the Suvan spanned between them, they would always remember their roots, their family, and each other. Despite how silly and childish it may have been, each sibling cut off a thin lock of their hair and they braided it together before tossing it into the ocean, symbolic of what bound them. "A tattoo would be a wonderful way to remind you how much you have, not how much you lost, eh?" Smiling at the memory, and the way that Uleru's words seemed to fit perfectly, Edreina finally came to a decision. It was so right that her bones seemed to hum with pleasure and she could not do anything but sit there and continue to smile. "You're both right..." she finally mused, voice soft and dreamlike. "My tattoo will be in remembrance of someone-..." What was the plural of someone in Common? Shrugging, she continued, "that I care for deeply. But, it is not acknowledging their death. It is remembering that no matter how far apart we may be at that moment, we still sail the same sea and our hearts are still intertwined." Edreina fiddled with her hair, looking up and into the clouds as she thought further on her decision. Now that she had a design... where should she put it?

[Razkar]

"A tattoo would be a wonderful way to remind you how much you have, not how much you lost, eh?"

Razkar shuffled back when the Otani gracefully leaped onto the deck like an errant wave, and he growled when she trounced and mocked his tattoos right in front of him. The sea witch did not know his ways, and... and...

He lowered his finger slowly, just as he was about to tear into her, frowning.

She... had a point...

The Myrian regarded the Otani with what looked like fresh eyes. Still guarded, still hostile, but with his head cocked to one side and frown deepening, it seemed like he had seen more in her words than just cause for offence.

Holding onto the dead... is that what I do? What we do? No... No, we celebrate them. We honor those who came before us, and we rejoice in our offerings to the War Goddess. But... so much canvas has been taken up with duty and loss. How much is left to tell my own story?

"I am not wrong. You do not know all..." Razkar said slowly, enunciating every word with a scowl, but then he sat back and the next sentence seemed to have to be dragged from his throat. "... but you are not stupid as you look..."

Then Edreina had the good grace to break the moment and distract the impish Otani's attention from him. He didn't like it when she smiled that way at him. It reminded him of a lamb trying to stare down a lion.

"You're both right. My tattoo will be in remembrance of someone that I care for deeply. But, it is not acknowledging their death. It is remembering that no matter how far apart we may be at that moment, we still sail the same sea and our hearts are still intertwined."

The Myrian nodded at the Svefra's words, but held himself back from asking just who this person was. Razkar was curious about the world, its people and especially those pleasant ones he found in it, but death and grief were private things. He doubted the Otani would see it that way, of course.

"Should have on your stomach." He said out of impulse, smiling despite the fact that he could have sworn the Otani's smile just widened. "Heart is, ah... done too much. Cleeh-sher. You know word. Everyone does it. Puts love one over heart." He grunted and pointed to his mother guarded his breast. "I did. But you ink? Must be..." He flashed an almost grudging look at the Otani. "... story. Is anyone in Flotilla can make ink under skin?"

[Uleru]

"I am not wrong. You do not know all... but you are not stupid as you look..." Despite the fact that this last sentence seemed to be teased from the Myrian's throat by the feather touch of a grappling hook, and it was more of an insult than any compliment, Uleru cant help but smile in an unmistakably smug way. Luckily, Edreina catches the Otani's fading attention before she can dig her own grave with the next words that would have left her mouth. The Sevfra speaks of bonds and love; but for who she cannot tell. Razkar muses that the Sevfra would do better to have her tattoo across her stomach, instead of her heart. Uleru, of course, reads into this and cant help the twitch of a smile to pull across her cheek. She opens her mouth to give her own opinion (for no innocent comment by her favourite plaything shall sneak by unmolested), but after a second of strained silence shuts it again. As a Moulding with a thousand different shapes, there is no part of her body she identifies with. There is nothing so solid about her that she has an attachment too, and nothing about her is permanent. She has no comment about tattoo placement, of all things. Her lips thin out with petty jealousy as she stares through her knees. Thankfully, Razkar has a solid question she can answer. "Oh! I might know someone who can -ahem- 'make ink under skin'." she nods, testing an impression of Razkar's gravely accent. "Oooo, he's good, I promise. I can lead you to him. Will you follow me? No! You must chase me." With a laugh she rocks back on her hips and tumbles off the Goldengrotto with a splash. Edreina probably knows the way, for this man is pretty well known for his art, but she tries to seduce her into the game anyway. She swims under the ships but will pop up on the far side, singing loudly so they can follow her with a song she knows with rub Razkar the wrong way: "When I was a lad in a fishing town    My old man said to me: "You can spend your life, your jolly life    Sailing on the sea. You can search the world for pretty girls    Til your eyes grow weak and dim, But don't go fishing for an Otani, son    If you don't know how to swim!" 'Cause her hair was green as seaweed Her skin was blue and pale I loved that girl with all my heart I only liked the upper part I did not like the tail!"