[After a hundred years or so, she had outgrown such emotions. Honestly... after fifty or so. With her particular set of abilities, and all it allowed her to「see」in others... she had become what others might consider jaded long ago. Not that she bothered dwelling on that. There were far more interesting things.
Like asking random men on beaches what tattoos they might consider.
He finishes with the lotion, but she shows no sign of officially absolving him of his responsibilities or thanking him for a job well done.]
Of course it's a big deal. I don't work on people who wake up in the morning wanting to do something new or drunks that find the idea funny.
[The names of lovers not destined to last, matching flowers on ankles, intoxicated dares, and little "punishments" from pranking friends... She was not a tattoo artist with a shop front and bills to pay who had to do such work. She took on only what she desired, and only that which represented a person's truth. Putting on their bodies what she could observe in her gifted sight.]
Think about it, won't you~ Most of the shard-bearers here... They aren't lucky enough to find their loved ones in this world beside them, after all.
[And sometimes, memories were not enough. ... She knew that. From the blade down her spine stabbing through a red peony and the flower blossoming over her womb... The man she loved was all over her body.]
no subject
[After a hundred years or so, she had outgrown such emotions. Honestly... after fifty or so. With her particular set of abilities, and all it allowed her to「see」in others... she had become what others might consider jaded long ago. Not that she bothered dwelling on that. There were far more interesting things.
Like asking random men on beaches what tattoos they might consider.
He finishes with the lotion, but she shows no sign of officially absolving him of his responsibilities or thanking him for a job well done.]
Of course it's a big deal. I don't work on people who wake up in the morning wanting to do something new or drunks that find the idea funny.
[The names of lovers not destined to last, matching flowers on ankles, intoxicated dares, and little "punishments" from pranking friends... She was not a tattoo artist with a shop front and bills to pay who had to do such work. She took on only what she desired, and only that which represented a person's truth. Putting on their bodies what she could observe in her gifted sight.]
Think about it, won't you~ Most of the shard-bearers here... They aren't lucky enough to find their loved ones in this world beside them, after all.
[And sometimes, memories were not enough. ... She knew that. From the blade down her spine stabbing through a red peony and the flower blossoming over her womb... The man she loved was all over her body.]