CJ’s light touch faltered slightly at Nocturne’s explanation of the first tattoo, her eyebrows drawing together. His explanation sounded a lot like the gist of what Malachite had been trying to tell her his Cards were saying. CJ’s eyebrows furrowed, suddenly feeling unsure and a bit confused, as he glanced up at Nocturne from under her eyebrows, wondering (not for the first time) if the two men had been talking about her without her knowing. They did, after all, have direct lines of communication, and CJ was hardly around Malachite enough to know he wasn’t reaching out to Nocturne. The more confident and secure part of her knew it was silly; the insecure part of her worried nonetheless.
A shiver crawled down her spine when Nocturne continued talking like he had eaten Malachite’s damned cards, but it didn’t stop CJ from brushing her fingers lightly over the design, tracing it. His skin was smooth and warm, with the occasional freckle popping up around the tattoos. CJ brushed her thumb idly over the hourglass once more, before stepping back so the tattooist could start work. Glancing at him, CJ watched as he started the machine, her eyebrows furrowing slightly at the buzzing sound, and she watched as he seemed to literally draw with it. She had never been interested in following any of the other street kids when they went to get their two-dollar tattoos, that looked like someone drunk, high, or both had done the work. Especially compared to the amazing pieces of artwork that Nocturne had on his body.
At the sound of his voice, CJ’s attention shifted from watching the tattoo machine curiously, to looking at Nocturne with one eyebrow raised. “No,” there was soft laughter in her voice; the only tattoos she could afford she wouldn’t want to wear on her body, though she didn’t say as much since she figured it was kind of implied. “What is it with you guys, and body modifications?” She asked, almost rhetorically, as she gave Nocturne an amused look. “Malachite has been trying to get me to get piercings for years.” CJ rolled her eyes, but her expression was fond. She didn’t even have her ears pierced, and her best friend was trying to convince her to get needles shoved through her tongue and her nipples!
Taking Nocturne’s left hand in gentle fingers, CJ stepped a bit closer again, so she could examine first the tattoo on his bicep, tracing it, too, with gentle fingers of her right hand. She’d decided to keep holding his hand with her left, and studied it with a puzzled frown. “Is this one of your furballs?” She asked curiously, “or -- ?” she fell off, leaving the prompt open as an invitation to explain the curious tattoo. She hadn’t seen one like it before; it was definitely unique but also really strange. She decided, without saying anything, that she didn’t really like it as much as the other ones. Maybe it would have a meaning that would endear her to it, but in the mean time, she gently turned his hand over, the rest of his arm also twisting so she could see the tattoo there.
“Oh,” she whispered softly; the detailed, delicate lines and careful shading was a lot more appealing to CJ, and she set about tracing various lines of the tree with the tip of one finger, turning his hand a little this way and that so she could admire the tattoo from various angles. “Its beautiful,” she whispered softly. “But… sad.” She trailed off, still frowning down at the tattoo – she was pretty sure the tree that was depicted was dead, not alive and thriving. Perhaps if it had been, it would have been done in colours and not shades of black and grey. “What does it mean?” she asked, glancing up at Nocturne once more, still holding his hand in her own.
A shiver crawled down her spine when Nocturne continued talking like he had eaten Malachite’s damned cards, but it didn’t stop CJ from brushing her fingers lightly over the design, tracing it. His skin was smooth and warm, with the occasional freckle popping up around the tattoos. CJ brushed her thumb idly over the hourglass once more, before stepping back so the tattooist could start work. Glancing at him, CJ watched as he started the machine, her eyebrows furrowing slightly at the buzzing sound, and she watched as he seemed to literally draw with it. She had never been interested in following any of the other street kids when they went to get their two-dollar tattoos, that looked like someone drunk, high, or both had done the work. Especially compared to the amazing pieces of artwork that Nocturne had on his body.
At the sound of his voice, CJ’s attention shifted from watching the tattoo machine curiously, to looking at Nocturne with one eyebrow raised. “No,” there was soft laughter in her voice; the only tattoos she could afford she wouldn’t want to wear on her body, though she didn’t say as much since she figured it was kind of implied. “What is it with you guys, and body modifications?” She asked, almost rhetorically, as she gave Nocturne an amused look. “Malachite has been trying to get me to get piercings for years.” CJ rolled her eyes, but her expression was fond. She didn’t even have her ears pierced, and her best friend was trying to convince her to get needles shoved through her tongue and her nipples!
Taking Nocturne’s left hand in gentle fingers, CJ stepped a bit closer again, so she could examine first the tattoo on his bicep, tracing it, too, with gentle fingers of her right hand. She’d decided to keep holding his hand with her left, and studied it with a puzzled frown. “Is this one of your furballs?” She asked curiously, “or -- ?” she fell off, leaving the prompt open as an invitation to explain the curious tattoo. She hadn’t seen one like it before; it was definitely unique but also really strange. She decided, without saying anything, that she didn’t really like it as much as the other ones. Maybe it would have a meaning that would endear her to it, but in the mean time, she gently turned his hand over, the rest of his arm also twisting so she could see the tattoo there.
“Oh,” she whispered softly; the detailed, delicate lines and careful shading was a lot more appealing to CJ, and she set about tracing various lines of the tree with the tip of one finger, turning his hand a little this way and that so she could admire the tattoo from various angles. “Its beautiful,” she whispered softly. “But… sad.” She trailed off, still frowning down at the tattoo – she was pretty sure the tree that was depicted was dead, not alive and thriving. Perhaps if it had been, it would have been done in colours and not shades of black and grey. “What does it mean?” she asked, glancing up at Nocturne once more, still holding his hand in her own.
