Redesign [Karina Docere]

[Jesse Fforde]

I can’t help the mild anxiety I feel as Karina’s legs slip over the edge of the platform, swinging idly in the abyss yawning below us. I’m able to survive up here on the third tier of the treehouse only because I have taught myself to believe in mind over matter. If I think too much about the fact that if I rolled over just once, I’d plummet quite violently to the wilderness floor blow, I think that I might go insane. Thinking about it now, I can feel my gut wrench, as if it’s trying to run as far away from the possibility as possible. I don’t listen to that instinct that wants me to reach out and pull Karina away from the edge.

Still, it’s a relief when she pulls her legs back up in order to stand. The smell of the blood in her mug has inspired a hunger within me; not that the hunger wasn’t there from the beginning, but watching the woman as she drains the contents of the mug only makes me realise it’s a hunger that I cannot ignore any longer. I either have to go out in an attempt to satisfy it, or go do something else to distract me from it.

I nod appreciatively as she leaves the magazine with me – I’ll need it, in order to start my designs. Though I’ll probably hop on the computer and do some research on this model, too, if only to get a more comprehensive idea about what Karina would like. Regardless of the fact that I am not charging her for this service, I am still a perfectionist, and will not etch something onto her skin that is not the best that it can be.

And besides which, I’m sure there’ll be some time in the future that she will be able to pay me back. I figure anyone in this faction who’d give away things for free is deserving of a free tattoo or three. There are plenty of things that I am not in possession of because of the kindness of the members of Tytonidae. I’m only doing my part.

Karina skips off to do lord knows what, and as she does, I begin to pack up my stuff. I shuffle all the pencils back into the case. I take the large sketch pad with me back inside, leaving the desert rose to thrive on the platform outside. The drawing itself I take to the back of the hut, where I pin it up on the wall along with all the others. I then dress properly, in order to head out for the night—to replenish myself, to work off some steam, before returning to work on the job that has been given to me.

[Karina]

Three days. Three days was all that he needed and Karina happily gave him that while she made sure that she saved up her magick juice to be able to heal herself to help him with his work. It was a perk that humans didn't have which is why when she did her research that it would take days, months to do a tattoo depending on what was being asked to have done. She understood completely and was happy that Jesse was willing to help.

Rina thought about all the options she had for getting her tattoo done and she wouldn't lie that her sire's husband, Micah had been her first thought but she had known for a while that he was a tattoo artist...even had a shop with her brother-in-law from her deceased husband who she could have gone to but she didn't want all the questions from Mal and why she felt that she needed to change. It was hard enough not to think of Raphael when she saw him but to possibly have questions as to why she desparately wanted to change...that was something that she didn't want to face. Sure her attitude had changed, she became more confident which was fabulous but she always hated the questions. Questions that could be endless if she didn't give the appropriate answers. Nope...she would just skip. Jesse was new so that made him the underdog...she knew all to well how that felt and how that could make one feel. Hell...she was well versed in rituals and she was barely used because there was always someone more favored or slightly better than her so she laid at her dusty alter picking up random ritual jobs here and there which typically came from Ripper. She didn't want that for Jesse and this would give them a good opportunity to spend time together, which she needed to do more often with other Tytonidae.

Excitement coursed through her as she waited. Nearly bouncing around the ritual alter as she played with rituals, doing them just because she could even without reason because she refused to get rusty in the only thing she knew how to do in this city other than shoot a gun. Her eyes looked up at the calendar. Three days. Finally the wait had been over and they could get started. Quickly standing up from the alter, she grabbed her bag and rushed for the door. She wasn't sure where she was supposed to meet him but she was sure that it was supposed to be at his hut. It was a little ways away from her own hut which made it convenient. Reaching his hut, she knocked on the door lightly and waited patiently.

[Jesse Fforde]

Of course, in those three days (or nights, to be more exact) I did not only work on the designs that Karina had set for me. I fed, I hunted, I vented in the only way I knew how. I spent some of my time with Felicity—but then I would come back here, to my hut. I did not lay out on the deck like I had been when Karina first approached me, but instead I holed up inside, at the desk I had installed in the corner. The hut smelled like fertilizer and natural life. The middle room is dedicated only to my art. I don’t own True Love anymore, nor do I own the apartment above it. It was in that apartment that I did all my drawing and painting. I don’t do that at veil towers, nor do I use the space at Larch Court for my own pleasures. Larch Court is for my brood, for the progeny growing under me. A place to be shared, rather than commandeered.

The hut has become my place, mine alone. Of course it’s open to those in Tytonidae to come visit when they want, but they visit with the knowledge that they’d be walking into a place that is distinctly my own, a place that I would not change to please anyone but myself. The middle room is all wood floors, walls, and ceiling. In the middle is a plush Persian rug. The wall are covered with pieces of paper, however; large and small. I draw more often than not. I draw on napkins. I draw on the lined pages of the notepad that I carry around. I draw on anything I can get my hands on. Every tiny bit of inspiration is tacked to the walls—all the small things, along with the larger canvases. Most in watercolours, quite a few in greywash, and only a couple of easels holding oil or acrylic paintings. Spread out across the back wall is a desk, a lamp perpetually shining over it; a nice bright lamp that doesn’t really add to the warm atmosphere, but is required to give me the best light possible, if I am to lack sunlight to work by. Of course there are no windows.

There are windows in the rooms on either side, however; I asked Velveteen if I could, and she agreed—the two rooms on either side act as green rooms, the temperate moderated, and the windows required so that the plants get their natural sunlight, when they need it. Of course I keep the doors to these rooms steadfastly closed during the day. Hidden behind a screen in the corner of the middle room is where I sometimes sleep, a flat but comfortable mattress on the ground. I am a man of simple needs.

It is here that I work thoroughly, for quite a few hours each night for three nights, on Karina’s designs. I’ve just added the finishing touched when I hear the knock on the door. I check my watch. She’s almost exactly just on time—the exact same time as she stumbled across me three nights prior.

Standing, I cross the room, feet bare so that they make no sound on the hollow wood. I open the door and grin; I hold it wide, and gesture that Karina should come inside. I’d invested in a collapsible massage table for this hut, for moments just like these—when Tytonidae members might drop in for a spontaneous tattoo. I’ve got it set up in the middle of the rug, and I’ve rigged a station just beside it, with all the ink and the appropriate needles on standby. This is going to take more than one night, even with the incredible speed of vampiric healing. There’s a lot of intricate work to go into these tattoos. I reckon that Karina and I might get to know each other a little better—or well, I may get to know her a little better. Lacking speech, I won’t be doing much talking. We’ll at least become very familiar with each other’s company.

I lead her over to the desk, where I’ve spread out each design for her to peruse.

[Karina]

The wait for Jesse to arrive and invite her in seemed to be an eternity but she was most certain that was just the excitement and anticipation that rolled through her. If there was a definition to how she felt, it would be much like a kid in a candy store. Feeling giddy and tingled all over, bouncy and hyper, giggles that could fill a room of dead people with life and joy. All of it was rolled up in her small frame of a body. Sure she was 5'7" but she was slender like a rail with an athletic build as she danced often when she found some free time.

As the door began to open, her eyes lit up like sparkling stars when Jesse came into view. She was never on time for anything but this...this was different. She would have in fact been early if she hadn't been doing rituals to pass the time until the sun dropped for the evening. Stepping inside as she was motioned to by Jesse, her eyes darted around the room. The pinned up pictures on the wall, easels that held painting, down to the smallest of details made her feel like she was back at the fine arts school she attended in New York City. The various dormatories that she would see decorated by other students that captured their interests, desires and skill. It was refreshing to say the least.

Stepping carefully around the room as she waited for him to close the door, looking at each individual hand-drawn picture, reassuring her that she made the best decision for her first yet large set of ink work. He was very talented. Turning as she heard the door latch behind her, she smiled at him.

"I planned ahead and saved up the magical oomph that I would need for heals. We can work as long as you desire or take breaks. It's your call as you are the professional and I respect your thoughts and imput."

As he stepped closer and lead her over to the desk, her eyes were met with the designs that she had picked out off the model. Each perfect and looked far better than she imagined off of the page of the magazine that she had given him to use. She reached back and grabbed her hair, twisting and twirling it until it held together in a casual yet messy knot/bun without a proper hair-tie. Karina, leaned down and looked at each picture closely before she giggled and tilted her head as she was still bent over to look at him.

"They're perfect! Thank you!"

Righting herself again, she turned to face him. She fluttered inside like a swarm of luna moths from the excitement that if she could glow, she would. The smile and light in her eyes radiated as she shoved her hands in her back pockets. This was going to be a wonderful adventure and she would get to know one of her peers in the process. Even if he couldn't speak, that didn't matter because you could get to each other a little better just by spending time with them and being observant...actions and body language spoke in volumes.

[Jesse Fforde]

I smile and nod appreciatively as Karina voices her thoughts on the designs that I have drawn up. Perfect, she says, and I hope that she does mean it. Sometimes, especially with those who are being tattooed for the first time, they lack the confidence to actually tell me if something isn’t to their specifications. I only realise later, when I see that look of horror on their faces when I have finished, that they’ve failed to think something through. From what little I know of Karina, however, I figure that if she has a problem, she will let me know. She seems to be a woman who knows her mind, who won’t change it at a moment’s notice. The grin on her face is indicative of confidence. We are free to begin, then.

From one of the shelves I retrieve a pad of lined paper. I turn to a free page, and retrieve a black ink pen. The letters are almost like type as I write; square and neat. Just like those who speak must know how to enunciate rather than mumble, I know that in order to communicate properly, my writing needs to be understood. I write:

”We are not human anymore. Just like you can heal, I don’t get thirsty. Not for water, or hungry. Well, I’m always hungry. But I’ve learned to ignore it.”

I smirk as I continue to write, with one line in between:

”What I mean to say: I don’t get tired like I used to. We can go all night. With a design as big as this, though, we might not get finished tonight. You might need to come back tomorrow night. Okay?

I’ll start with the back, then do the sleeves. Will do the front tomorrow night, so that you don’t have to lie on fresh ink. There’s a sheet on the chair—if you can remove your blouse? (Promise I won’t look). And lie face down. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the guns ready. You can go into the other room to change into the sheet.”

Both other rooms, I know, are full of plants. The windows are all glass, but my hut is on the outer edge of the Eyrie. No one will be able to look through. It’ll work for Karina’s purposes. I turn the pad of paper toward Karina and give her a wink, before I begin to prepare the inks—black, first, so that I can do all the outlines.

[Karina]

The pieces that Jesse had drawn up for her was perfect, her eyes looked over them and there wasn't a thing that she would change. It was great and she couldn't wait to get started especially as she was excited to see how it all looked in the end but she was in for the long haul. Even when she might use all her abilities to heal herself so that they could continue, she would go spirit hunting to be ready for the next day. To say that she was just thinking this as a simple and spontaneous change would be a lie as she was completely in this, mind and spirit.

Stepping closer to him as he grabbed the lined paper and black pen, her eyes followed his hand as he began to right. Smiling as she read the words on the paper and nodding her head as if he was talking to her but in his own way. It did create an idea for a gift that she would get him as he was willing to do such a large project for free. She had to pay him somehow other than her gratitude. Karina was focused and ready, made a note that she would be here again the next evening. She couldn't wait to show Lions but she made sure that he was off running errands for the next few days so that he couldn't see the start and middle, he had to see it when it was finished.

When she read to take off her top and that he wouldn't look, she smirked. Karina wasn't afraid to show off her body and with the amount of work she was getting done, Jesse was bound to see her anyway. She trusted him which made her all the more comfortable being solely topless around him. Slipped off her top and folding it before placing it on her bag. Laying down on the table as she was instructed, she watched Jesse finished getting ready as she rested her head on her arms. This was going to be fun and it was nice to get out of the hut and spend time with others.

[Jesse Fforde]

I can tell even though I am not looking that Karina hasn’t left the room to change. I can hear the rustling of cloth as she removes her shirt right there, behind me. I smile, not because I am looking forward to seeing the woman naked, but because I am proud of the faction that I have been accepted into. I am proud of it, because everyone has their own confidence. Everyone is so sure of themselves. They do not have any shame. They are the kind of people I am proud to call ‘family’, in the broader sense of the word. Dulce had been the same, when I tattooed her—no shame whatsoever, and a trust that I am flattered to receive.

My mind drifts to Lions as I continue to prepare the ink. I wonder how much he knows about this project of Karina’s, and whether he’ll approve. And if he doesn’t? Will it somehow cause a rift between myself and Karina’s other half? Somehow, I doubt it. The guy is so damned happy all the time, I can hardly imagine him angry. I think it’ll be him that I’ll want to lure onto this chair, next. Surprisingly, it is only the women of Tytonidae that I have had the pleasure of inking. None of the men, thus far, have shown any interest. I might have to start calling them out on it.

As soon as all the ink is ready, and the guns have been set up, I pick up the first design and approach Karina. Although she is still very much a living being, as soon as she took up her position on that chair she became more than that. She became a living canvas, and the focus that I attend upon her is that of an artist needing to perfect his art. Slowly, carefully, I align the design across Karina’s shoulders. I have a few different pieces and they are like a puzzle. They all need to fit together. I may have to take some liberties while inking to make sure they all connect perfectly, but that’s easy enough to achieve.

As soon as the designs are down upon the skin I reach behind me to dip a sponge in a small bowl of water. Slowly, I inch the sponge across the back of the design, transferring the removable ink to her skin. Once done, I peel away the backing. The design is simple, now, all lines and black and white. It is only the beginning.

I toss away the paper. I pull on a pair of surgical gloves—still a man of hygienic habit, regardless of the fact that vampires might be immune. It hasn’t been proven, and thus I will do as I was taught, as I know is best. I pick up the first ink gun—the one with which I will etch the outlines. The thing whirs to life, like an oversized mosquito, in my grasp. I arch a brow at Karina.

Ready?

[Karina]

Her part was simple...get undressed, lay down on the table, and remain very still while he worked. Karina had read that any movement while the tattooist was working could ruin the whole design but at the same notion...it was common sense. There had to be a few squirmers, those that didn't like pain and instantly shuddered when pain coursed through them but not her. Over the last two and a half years, she had gotten used to pain with the amount of times she had been shot, stabbed, and blow to pieces by traps. Nope, pain was not at all foreign to her and she had gotten used to it that it didn't bother her anymore except when she would take about ten traps or so to the face...then she grumbled a bit but continued to carry one.

Jesse had always been a sweet guy in her opinion. She trusted him or she wouldn't have asked him to take on this project. Jesse that he could be trusted to the faction and that meant the world to her because Tytonidae is the only home she knew and Velveteen had taken care of her since her true sire, Kacee abandoned her. It was only Vel and her that had remained since she joined Tytonidae and she was okay with that because those that came in after and remained have blossomed and helped make Tytonidae what it was today. She didn't want to be anywhere else. Jesse was one of the additions that she was glad to see come through the door. She felt bad about what happened between him and his sire but she would never bring it up, it would be rude but if he wanted to talk...she would let vent even if he had to write or type it all out, he deserved a willing ear and friend.

Once he was finished with the guns and ink set up, her eyes lit up as he grabbed the pages and brought them over to start piecing the puzzle together. She watched with intrigue as he worked. She could tell that when it came to his work, he was a perfectionist but weren't most artists when it came to their passion? She sure as hell was when it came to dancing. Why would it be any different with a tattoo artist? It wouldn't and she felt sort of foolish though didn't make it known that she had even picked up on that observation. People could choose to see her dance...they couldn't choose to see her tattoos depending on what she wore. His perfection made perfect sense.

Once the design was transferred, surgical gloves on his hands and they were ready to go, she watched him reach for the gun. The click and then the buzz to follow made her think of a hundred bees swarming but there was a sense of calmness that washed over her from the sound. Karina was truly ready for this. Her eyes looked up at Jesse as she nodded her head to his arched brow, knowing that he was asking her if she was ready. She was more than ready for this.

[Jesse Fforde]

As soon as I begin work, I go into a zone. Of course I am still aware that Karina is a person who may speak up if she is uncomfortable; a person who may attempt some kind of conversation, even if I’d prefer she does not. It’s amazing how many customers I do have who I warn at the very beginning that I am mute, and who proceed to try to engage me in conversation while I am working. I ignore them, of course, though I am tempted to etch my answers to their inane questions into their skin, forevermore. I never did, of course. Wouldn’t have been good for business.

Once upon a time I’d have needed a break. I wouldn’t have been able to work for more than four hours at a time—I’d have needed to piss, I’d have needed to eat, or to go out and have a cigarette. I’d have needed to stretch, and to get some fresh air. It doesn’t bode well for the tattoo if I’m bleary-eyed and exhausted. As a vampire, however, I don’t have these problems. I have the stamina of ten bulls. I’m like one of those energizer batteries—I can go on, and on and on and on. My muscles don’t cramp. I move with complete fluidity, and my focus remains steadfast.

I work in patches, like one might when cleaning a house. At least, it’s how I go about cleaning. I do one room completely, and then I move on to the next. Some people might move in sweeps – declutter the whole house, before dusting the whole house, before vacuuming the whole house. Just like some tattoo artists might do the entire outline first, before adding all the colour, I do not. I cannot explain how it happens in my mind; how I decide when a patch is complete. I work by instinct.

I try to be gentle as I move over the areas of the spine—I know that the spine is a particularly painful part of the body to have tattooed. It only feels like an hour has passed, though I’m certain that I have been working for at least four or five hours, when I complete the pieces across both shoulders. Before I remove the gloves I collect some soft tissue and, with an antiseptic wipe, clean away all the excess ink and whatever blood may have seeped across the freshly etched skin. I can almost see it healing, already, in front of me; for a second or three I close my eyes, fingertips resting upon Karina’s back, as I filter some of that healing power into her. It won’t do much, but it might do a little to ease her discomfort.

[Karina]

As Jesse began to work on the intricate design that would forever dance upon her skin for all to see, Karina instantly relaxed knowing that she was with a man that she trusted. If it was a random tattoo artist that she stopped in at whim to do such a job, she would be a little more uneasy about the whole process, asking a million questions that they have probably heard dozens of times and answer without a single thought because they were that common that they were ingrained upon their brain to respond as if they were in auto-pilot and the customer didn't matter but to pay them that bill that will put gas in their car and food on the table after paying the bills. She mentally scoffed at this and knew that she made the right choice going with someone that she trusted. Hell...trust was not her strong suit with all that she had gone through especially upon her turning and the large amount of people that have left her without word or reason, just vanishing into the night. No one knew it but it was why she clung to Tytonidae and Velveteen so strongly...they had yet to ditch her though she couldn't help but secretly feel that it would come some day when she was no longer useful to them. Vel would tell her that wouldn't be the case as everyone is important to the cause but hidden scars spoke much louder.

As she drifted into her plaguing thoughts, she closed her eyes and began to hum to herself against the buzzing sound of the gun. They were at the Eyrie and it was Jesse. She knew that she was safe except from maybe herself. Only people that knew of her paranoias or insecurities was Zodiac and Lionsheart. Neville knew but that was before he became a name to the growing list of people that she loved that vanished from her life even after he reassured her that he would always be there. Silence was her enemy but she knew that Jesse wouldn't be able to reply to her and she didn't know if he had any of those creepy telepath powers so chose not to bother him while he worked. He seemed so focused and it would be rude to interrupt him.

Slowly breathing though it was not needed for her to survive, to calm her thoughts while she focused on her surroundings. This change would be good for her and she knew it. She was more confident and showed it more often. Lions really did that for her. He showed her the world she hid from and the fun that she was missing out. He was bold and loving with a childish playful side that made her forget about any worries or concerns. She was starting to make friends and that was good. She wasn't as lonely as she thought and here was Jesse...quiet though not by choice, he always seemed nice and helpful. Karina wanted to get to know him better and hoped for a fruitful friendship and a support system should anything happen. She was curious about him and if he was born mute or if something had happened to him, just wasn't sure if it would be rude to ask. Maybe a simple question like "would you like to tell me a little about yourself" or maybe "what was life like as a human before you were turned." Maybe not...both of those were open-ended and he could easily skip over why he wasn't able to speak. She didn't know why she was so curious, she probably couldn't help him and she was sure he probably tried. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself for being retarded. Jesse being mute wasn't a big deal. It made him unique at least in her opinion.

Trying to very slowly turn her head to the side try and watch him work. He seemed to move with complete fluidity that it was mesmerizing to watch him. It was like watching a dancer do an emotional solo on stage. The expression and perfection that would come from each move was captivating to the watcher, drawing them into the world of the performer as they could feel the deep emotion that washed over the room. Tears in the corners of the spectators eyes from being so moved that when the dance was through, they were stunned for a moment as their soul felt the emotion of the dancer no matter if it was pain, love, joy, sadness, etc.

As he reached her spine, it was painful but some of the bullets she had taken had been far more painful or even when she lost limbs. There was a slight discomfort and she closed her eyes, slowly breathing. It wasn't that bad and she was grateful for that though she was pretty positive that if she wasn't a vampire, the pain would be twice as bad. It wasn't until she was turned that she was comfortable with pain, she used to be a wimp to it especially when it affected her dancing. It wasn't long before the tingles began to move through her of healing powers. Smiling as she realized it was Jesse that had gotten to it before she could, she stayed perfectly still until he was done. She felt nearly perfect and that she could go on for several more hours though she wouldn't push her luck nor would she push him. This was a big piece and it would take time which she had plenty of.

"Thank you, Jesse."