Let These Words Last Forever // Arctic

charade
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Thinking

Let These Words Last Forever // Arctic Jul 2, 2015 21:09:29 GMT -5

Post by charade on Jul 2, 2015 21:09:29 GMT -5

[googlefont="Ubuntu:400"]

Katelyn

Persimmon

Just Ink about it.

Katelyn stood in front of the tattoo parlor and stared at the array of artwork detailing the artist's work. She had heard through the grapevine that Topaz Ross's husband had gotten work done at it. Inking her body had never crossed her mind before as the profession didn't exist in her home district, but she had taken with the idea over the week, being face to face with the games and the dying and the blood again. It gave her unpleasant flashbacks and memories that rose unbidden to the surface. Chaske begging her not to leave him. The faces of her allies in the sky. Promising herself, promising all of them that she would never forget.

She entered the parlor and immediately saw the artist running the joint. She wanted something simple."Uhm, hi. I'm Kate. But you probably knew that." She took a deep breath and focused on the artist's eyes. People in the Capitol had a tendency to fawn over victors and she wanted to brace herself for the probable gushing."I want twenty-three tattoos. I don't care how many sessions it takes, I'll pay." Digging into her pocket, she produced a folded piece of paper and unfurled it, revealing a list done in cursive.

Quartz Caplin
Jeff Ryder
Hedvig Fabre
Mason Hammerfell
Dillon Hartman
Prism Nixton
Daphne Riot
Alexis Rondhal
Pixie Ruined
Zeki Webb
Ellexias Verisity
Marchello Donner
Margaret Dubois
Wyatt Manderson
Velocity Rush
Elverum Troshaldr
Mystic Trotter
Chaske Parks
Bree Fawn
Jordan Scoff-Reye
Levi Izar-Krane
Gaia Cross
Kolton Enim

"I want these on my arms, my chest, wherever there's room. But put Le-" Her voice caught in her throat and she started again. Ellexias, Marchello and Velocity around my heart. Dillon and Chaske on either side of my neck, and Margaret across my collarbone."She took a deep breath.

"Can you do that?"

made by anzie

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

arctic
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Let These Words Last Forever // Arctic Jul 2, 2015 21:53:12 GMT -5

Post by arctic on Jul 2, 2015 21:53:12 GMT -5

Honestly, this week has been a bunch of jackpots. It started with Maverick coming in to get a tattoo, I don't exactly remember what however; was it the names of his daughters somewhere? I think it might've been (though surprisingly, I didn't remember what he got because normally I'd memorize a mans body for some reasons, also to remember where the tattoo went but also for reasons that might not seem too appropriate). But who else had sealed the deal to make it a jackpot for me? Our newest victor; Katelyn Persimmon from District 11. "Uhm, hi. I'm Kate. But you probably knew that." She says nervously. "Yeah, I thought that was you. I'm Evren, by the way." I say, replying and trying to not freak out at the appearance of her.

However while I was screaming internally (it was visible too, from the look inside my eyes) she had said she wanted 23 tattoos. Twenty-Three tattoos? Damn. More money for me I guess. I think to myself with a nod.

She pulls out a list and shows me it. It's all in cursive but I read it through. The names are familiar somehow, but I don't remember who they are until it reaches Velocity Rush. I read through again, making sure I had read the names right. Yes, it was the names of all the other tributes that had fallen in her games. I realize with wide eyes. It's adorable, cute even that she wants all the dead and fallen written on her to make them permanent reminders of the hell she and the others had faced. I listen to her speak again. Or at first an attempt to speak.

"I want these on my arms, my chest, wherever there's room. But put Le-" She stutters a little bit but her words find their mark. "Ellexias, Marchello and Velocity around my heart. Dillon and Chaske on either side of my neck, and Margaret across my collarbone." I hear her sigh after saying that. I nod, in awe of her amazing idea and honored to be asked to have the task to do this.

"Can you do that?" The victor from District 11 had asked me. "Definitely, I'm honored to have the task." I speak with a nod. Moving my arm as if to show her where the chair to get the tattoo's on would be. "Do you have specific colors, themes, anything you want me to know beforehand?" I ask her with a raised eyebrow. Getting the tools I needed I put on a glove as I listen for a response from Katelyn.

charade
Retired Staff

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last seen May 1, 2024 12:08:12 GMT -5

Thinking

Let These Words Last Forever // Arctic Jul 3, 2015 8:01:04 GMT -5

Post by charade on Jul 3, 2015 8:01:04 GMT -5

[googlefont="Ubuntu:400"]

Katelyn

Persimmon

The chair was cold and clinical, not unlike the chair one would find in an infirmary or a dentist's office. The sterility reminded her of the prep room that she had had to frequent before any of the interviews; but the artist; Evren, as his name turned out to be was at the very least, warm in demeanor. She caught a hint of excitement in his face, and wondered how many other victors had gotten work done by him. "Black. Blue." The colors of death and the arena she had survived.

She had been told that getting inked would hurt; that it was like a knife cutting into the skin and leaving a trail of color behind. But Katelyn knew all about hurt. And no tattoo needle would compare to spears carving furrows in her body, creating fountains of blood and geysers of agony to spring forth from a rapidly dehydrating, starving body. No, Katelyn would never be afraid of pain again. In a few swift motions, she had tied her hair back with her bandanna and removed her shirt, laying back in the chair and waiting for the artist to begin his work.

There was nothing she wanted but the names, a patchwork novel written in eight days. Authored by the Capitol, but the story didn't belong to it. Not anymore. It belonged to those who had fought with and against her. She'd carry them everywhere she went. People that saw her would be reminded of the twenty-three others that had entered the icy hell of the sixty-ninth arena with her. They wouldn't be forgotten. She's make sure of it. It was what she promised. "Do it."

made by anzie

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

arctic
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Let These Words Last Forever // Arctic Jul 4, 2015 10:43:01 GMT -5

Post by arctic on Jul 4, 2015 10:43:01 GMT -5

I listen to her response of the colors she wanted. "Black. Blue." I hear her say. The colors represented death and the arena she had survived in I assumed. I was sure she hasn't gotten a tattoo before so she might dislike the sting of it, but then again, she's Katelyn Persimmon, victor of the 69th Hunger Games; she's felt the sting of the biting cold in the arena so how would this be much different? I shrug to myself, thinking inside of my mind and hoping that she doesn't find it offensive. "Sorry, I'm thinking to myself." I say with the shake of my head. I get the tool out and start applying the color black onto it. I had come up with an idea in order of how to do it. How would I do it of course? You and her will find out soon.

Oh well, I'll go ahead and tell you. I'm going to do it in order of last to die, as in Margaret starting, and then Velocity being the last tattoo since Margaret is the last one out of the games, she should be the first one to be listed on Katelyn correct? Well that's only my opinion. I have no idea if you like mine or not and I don't really care if you dislike it. My idea and I don't think she really cares in what order I put them on.

Placing the tool in my hand, I wait as if she were to give me permission to start tattooing her. Honestly I'm worried to screw something up and she'd yell at me, but however the words to call me to my work rang. "Do it." I hear her say. Her words are cold and biting, commanding even and it doesn't surprise me that she has that kind of demeanor with the arena she had come out of. Her words will match the arena, almost as if there was an accent to it she had gotten used to and everything she says might come out cold.

Taking the tool from the tattoo machine and putting a blue color on it, I move my hand over to her collarbone. Hesitating a small bit, I shake the thought from the mind after pulling back. I sigh, why am I so nervous? This isn't any different. Placing it down, I get to work, tattooing the name Margaret Dubois in black and blue.