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Prayer of the Frog (IC)


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As it turned out, Aquaria didn't sing the whole time. "Through the blood of sacrifice; I am made free - through the blood of sacrifice; I will win victory." Deep One blood dotted up as the needle moved, a distinct reddish-blue color that was closer to a royal purple than anything else. "Her sister is very strong," she added in a low rumble. "When we went to space, everyone remembered how strong she was." She sighed again, throat sacs bulging, and leaned forward to let Ray do his work. Evidently it was not an entirely happy memory. "Dagon and Hydra are sleeping now - but when we sing to them, they lie dreaming of us. If this were in my nest, all the elders would be singing around me, and the fry would be there to see it too.

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"There are many heavens and not everyone is content in their embrace but fortunately, there are other options," Ray offered with a small smile for Jessie. Normally he eschewed things like religious debate or conversation when he could but it was at least more comfortable that paying attention to the praises of Dagon and Hydra being sung while he worked. Despite his ability to hold a conversation, it was clear that the majority of his focus was on his work as he didn't glance up save when it came time to blot away the drops of blood. 

 

"But it sounds as if your parents are at peace where they are. I am sorry that their mortal existence was harrowing... Your sister sounds like her life is unduly exciting." Ray said as he went to adjust the mixture in his needle and bend back to his work. "But if you've been to space, your life can't be all that dull.... Perhaps comparatively to a horsemen and such but not to, say, your average tattoo artist." 

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"It's supposed to be dull," Jessie told him earnestly. "Regular normal life now to make up for the way it was. Only Aquaria wants to be a superhero, and we got kidnapped to space that one time. Erin was really upset." The tattoo artist was easy to talk to, maybe something about the way he only seemed to be paying a little bit of attention. "You're very old, right? When you were learning how to do your art, how long did it take before you could make the work you did look like the picture in your head?" 

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"<And if this oath we ever break; you our willing flesh will take...>" Aquaria was being a good subject and holding her body steady as the tattoo art continued, and was now keeping time by drumming on her bulbous knees with her webbed, three-fingered hands, her song echoing sonorously between the words of the conversation around them, a basso sound that seemed to swell the air and make it thick with moisture. "<And with the blood of sacrifice; you will free us from all pain. In the darkness of the sea; we will wait through ages thrice, and when the mighty stars are right, we will even have the skies...>" She croaked, neck bulging wide, and it seemed to be the end of that particular song.  "They call me Sea Devil," she croaked confidentially to Renegade. 

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"Depends on your scale, I suppose. My first assignment was to document the creation of the Cave of Machpelah - the Ibrahimi Mosque, if you prefer." He offered and then added after a moment as if only then realizing that those words might mean nothing. "Bronze Age." He added, hoping that might be more helpful. Some how Ray managed to shrug one shoulder without jostling his working hand. He tried to focus on Jessie's question and not the chanting that his remaining celestial ability helpfully translated. It wasn't that Ray was squeamish about blood sacrifice - he remembered when that had been en vogue after all - but not so much blood sacrifices to the primordial things from beyond. 

 

"I'll tell you a secret, Jessie, they still sometimes don't look the way that I'd want them to in my head. Every artist that I've ever spoken to - and I've spoken to a great many over my years - they all feel that way. You'll do a handful that are aggravating and then every now and again one will turn out in a way that makes you remember why you picked up a paintbrush, or marker, or tattoo gun." Ray said as he swiped the cloth over Aquaria's green skin with a small nod as he scooted back. "You sit better than a lot of my clients, Sea Devil. You know, we could do a trident on your leg, maybe some scroll work." He suggested as he gestured for the Deep One to check out the results in the mirror. "Sometimes people call me Renegade. I'm no big name though - not in any of the circles I move in. Just old and cranky."

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Aquaria needed to use the mirror to see her back - from the bulk of her neck and her shrunken shoulders, it didn't look like she could turn her head very far. When she did see the tattoo, though, she croaked softly, her whole body falling still for a moment. "This looks...beautiful! Brek-kek-kek, coax-coax..." She sounded at a loss for words - no surprise, given the spiritual importance of the moment. The moment the blood was wiped away and a waterproof bandage was applied, she dropped to all fours at Renegade's feet, her legs up and hands out like a crouching frog. "Thank you!" she said, looking up at him with gratitude on her broad, froggy features. "You don't know what this means to me!

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  • 2 weeks later...

Jessie came over to inspect the results as well, nodding in approval at the bold design against Aquaria's green skin. "It's very good," she agreed. "It looks like the other ones do, you did a very nice job." She stepped back to allow for the bandaging process and rubbed her own upper arms thoughtfully. "Can you do tattoos on anybody? Like what if people had skin strong enough that needles sometimes break in it, or people who regenerate damage and heal scars and stuff?" She looked like she was ready to say she was just asking for a friend, but managed to bite that back. 

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Ray looked alarmed as Aquaria began to crouch, briefly concerned he was about to be serenaded once more. "Not exactly, but I get the general gist of it," Ray said with a sideways sort of smile. "I'm glad it brings you the peace you were looking for."

 

For a moment, it looked like he might pat her shoulder but as she was kneeling, that would have left him awkwardly patting her head. Instead, he continued the motion to reach for a towel and begin removing the latex gloves he'd been wearing. At Jessie's question, he glanced up, "I wouldn't say anybody as I imagine eventually I'll get some stone golem walking in the door expecting me to do some chiseling but, by and large, yes. It takes a bit of extra preparation but I've acquired a certain reputation among the more unusual inhabitants of Freedom City for that sort of work. Sometimes it takes more sittings and an impervium needle or other forethought but I've done demigods before so..." He gave a little gesture of his hand as if to indicate the sky was the limit. Tossing the towel down after he'd wiped the latex powder from his hands, he added with a surprisingly gentle tone of voice, "Have something in mind?"

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Aquaria made a happy "krekreke" sound, hopping up to a bipedal stance again. "You could do one of your pictures," she suggested. "Or maybe our pod from space." Rocking back and forth on her big feet, she hopped over to look at the pictures on the wall herself, but kept a big yellow-black eye on the conversation between Ray and Jessie. She worried. One thing she did not do was suggest an elder sign for Jessie - after all, Jessie wasn't a believer in Dagon and even if she was, what place would that mark have on a Surfacer? That thought made her three-chambered heart flutter oddly, so instead she croaked, "You should make it green. You would look good in green.

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Jessie hesitated for a minute, looking as though she wished she hadn't started the conversation at all, but then finally gathered herself and offered, "A window, I think. An open window, with open fields and blue sky outside. I don't really have a picture reference for it though, and I didn't see something like it anywhere on the walls. But I like windows," she admitted. "And I like the idea of having a tattoo to tell a story or, um, mark a passage in your life. But I don't think I'll get as many as you," she added, giving Aquaria an apologetic half-smile. "Maybe just the one. And maybe I won't tell Erin." 

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"Hmm," Ray said as he thought for a moment and then pulled over a sketchpad to begin scribing lines into it. He roughed in the lines of the opening as he nodded towards the walls, "Any artist with a damn is going to be able to put together something without an exact picture and its okay if it takes a few tries to get something you like before you want to put it on your skin. A tattoo is something you're going to want to have for a life time."

 

Ray glanced down at his own decorated wrist and the swirls of color there as he added, "Well, for most people." He pushed a sketch of window frame towards Jessie - a traditional window with its panes thrown open but the view left blank, "Want to jot down an idea of what you want to see out your window?" He invited, "Rough is fine. I think you might like a softer style for that. Have you seen watercolor tattoos?" He asked as he pulled out a book from underneath the counter and flipped it open to pictures taken of other tattoos he'd done, specifically those in the style he mentioned. 

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Aquaria ducked down just long enough to remove her shoes, then jumped up on one of Ray's stools, her three-toed feet making a faint squishing noise as she squatted on top of the leather. Rather than interrupt Jessie as she studied the potential designs, instead she watched avidly herself, her big, bulging eyes wide as she watched the artist and his canvas, a look of great interest on her face. "This is very exciting," she finally said. "You should paint our walls when we are home.

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"Oh, it's pretty," Jessie said approvingly, looking over the watercolor photos. "Yes, that's how I want it to be." With a nod, she picked up the pencil and began sketching a landscape. Her style was hesitant but not entirely amateur, the perspective tended to fail a little in the middle distance, and she hadn't picked up many tricks for proper shading, but she drew like someone who'd been practicing. She started with black, but soon picked up the colored pencils as well. In a few minutes a landscape emerged, a green grassy lawn with a tree in the foreground, an old swing hanging from one large branch. In the background a few more trees dotted the horizon, while off to the left, the lawn sloped downward to fade into blue ocean. "It might be too big," she commented, frowning. "I don't... it shouldn't be too big on me, no bigger than my hand," she offered with uncertainty in her voice.

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"We'll scale it down when we make a stencil of it. You'll pick the size. Modern technology is so very useful," Ray said from where he sat back. He watched the drawing emerge but from a deliberately casual position. No one drew well with someone breathing down their neck or making them self conscious. Only when she turned for comment did Ray lean over to clearly look over the piece. "I'd add a little shading," he suggested, pointing one tattooed finger to the areas, "Basically, you either go light to dark, so the foreground is lighter and the farthest point is darker - that makes the picture feel kind of heavy. In this case, you'd want to do the reverse, you pack your color in up close and then let it wash away as it goes back to make it have a lighter, dreamy feel. It'll translate well to that style. You know, I think it might be nice if you just put the image there for the window and we let the frame be negative space. So, just a little shading to give the hint of it. Like your skin is the frame for the escape."

 

He leaned over then, erasing his work a bit and roughing in the shading in the manner he was talking about. "Something like that." He suggested and sat back to let her look over it. Ray arched one imperious brow and then offered. "I got space in the back, you wanna come by for some pointers... I have time."

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