[ True to her plan, Athessa is silent for the duration of the tattoo. It hurts a lot less than she expects, which is possibly because it's on her wrist and not her face, but it's still a small point of pride that she not only doesn't make a sound, but doesn't flinch, either.
At first she doesn't even take Colin's hand, instead watching with rapt attention as the tapping of the needles drives ink into her skin, and blackish blood beads up on the surface afterwards. When she does take Colin's offered hand, it's not the tight gripping sort of hand-holding most employ during a painful procedure; rather, it's light and shifting, more like the way she'd traced the lines of his palm beneath the tree in Ghislain. A gentle reminder of the company and comfort of it, rather than a lifeline to cling to.
When it's done, Athessa holds up her hand and looks at the delicate coil of petals and leaves. ]
It feels...warmer than I thought it would. [ There's heat radiating off the collection of tiny wounds, which she can feel as acutely as if the tattoo were a flame that doesn't actually burn. ]
no subject
At first she doesn't even take Colin's hand, instead watching with rapt attention as the tapping of the needles drives ink into her skin, and blackish blood beads up on the surface afterwards. When she does take Colin's offered hand, it's not the tight gripping sort of hand-holding most employ during a painful procedure; rather, it's light and shifting, more like the way she'd traced the lines of his palm beneath the tree in Ghislain. A gentle reminder of the company and comfort of it, rather than a lifeline to cling to.
When it's done, Athessa holds up her hand and looks at the delicate coil of petals and leaves. ]
It feels...warmer than I thought it would. [ There's heat radiating off the collection of tiny wounds, which she can feel as acutely as if the tattoo were a flame that doesn't actually burn. ]