Getting Inked
18 Jul 2008 03:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
broadsword_babeWhere: New York City
When: May, 1977
Alias: Nickie Charles
Getting tattooed had originally been Danny's idea. He was such a girl about it that I often wondered what had possessed him to get "inked" in the first place. So, thinking it would be gone the next day, I decided to be Danny's guinea pig.
At first I didn't know what to get. Butterflies seemed so commonplace. I wasn't into cartoons so stuff like Tigger or Betty Boop just didn't do anything for me. I still believed in the old gods, so crosses were out. But that gave me an idea. I talked it over with one of the artists, and he sketched out a black and gray fehu. The only other question was where to put it?
Artisans often drew or sculpted Freyja to the left of her twin brother Freyr, so I started thinking: left ankle, maybe? No, too many people put their tattoos on their ankles and I wanted to be different. So, I opted for the inside of my left wrist, about an inch above my watch-line. It would still be painful, but it would show Danny that there really wasn't anything to be afraid of. So, with the self-proclaimed "King of Queer" by my side, I watched as the needle buzzed black ink into my skin.
Yes, it hurt. It felt like an itching burn, but compared to the various injuries and duels I'd had over the centuries, as well as subsequent Quickenings, it was tolerable. To a point, it was almost mesmerizing to watch as though the pain, and my arm, belonged to someone else.
"So, what's it mean anyway?" the artist asked. "What'd you say it was? Fay-hoo?"
"It's an old Norse rune," I answered over the buzz of the needle. "It's the first letter in the alphabet. It's the symbol of Freyja, the Norse goddess of war, love, lust, harvest. It also means luck and hope as well as wealth and success."
"All that, huh?" Danny asked, amazed. "How'd you know about it?"
Because I'm almost 2,000 years old, I answered silently. Because I was raised on the sagas of Freyja and Freyr, Odin and Thor. Because I was named after Freyja, herself.
"Oh, I had a friend before I came here who got interested in all that runic 'new age' stuff and I thought it was interesting," I lied.
"Alright, let me just add some white highlighting to this and you'll be done," the artist said, thankfully filling any awkward space.
The needle buzzed once again and as it added white to the morass of grays and black taking shape on my wrist. Just a few more quick jolts and it was finished. The artist washed off the surface ink with some water and revealed the finished piece.
"So, whaddya think?"
"Wow," I said, honestly. "Just 'wow'."
The fehu was three inches long and about an inch and a half or so wide centered perfectly on the inside of my left wrist. I had to admit, I'd actually feel sorry to look at that spot in the morning and find it gone. Except that didn't happen.
"My turn!" Danny announced proudly.
When: May, 1977
Alias: Nickie Charles
Getting tattooed had originally been Danny's idea. He was such a girl about it that I often wondered what had possessed him to get "inked" in the first place. So, thinking it would be gone the next day, I decided to be Danny's guinea pig.
At first I didn't know what to get. Butterflies seemed so commonplace. I wasn't into cartoons so stuff like Tigger or Betty Boop just didn't do anything for me. I still believed in the old gods, so crosses were out. But that gave me an idea. I talked it over with one of the artists, and he sketched out a black and gray fehu. The only other question was where to put it?
Artisans often drew or sculpted Freyja to the left of her twin brother Freyr, so I started thinking: left ankle, maybe? No, too many people put their tattoos on their ankles and I wanted to be different. So, I opted for the inside of my left wrist, about an inch above my watch-line. It would still be painful, but it would show Danny that there really wasn't anything to be afraid of. So, with the self-proclaimed "King of Queer" by my side, I watched as the needle buzzed black ink into my skin.
Yes, it hurt. It felt like an itching burn, but compared to the various injuries and duels I'd had over the centuries, as well as subsequent Quickenings, it was tolerable. To a point, it was almost mesmerizing to watch as though the pain, and my arm, belonged to someone else.
"So, what's it mean anyway?" the artist asked. "What'd you say it was? Fay-hoo?"
"It's an old Norse rune," I answered over the buzz of the needle. "It's the first letter in the alphabet. It's the symbol of Freyja, the Norse goddess of war, love, lust, harvest. It also means luck and hope as well as wealth and success."
"All that, huh?" Danny asked, amazed. "How'd you know about it?"
Because I'm almost 2,000 years old, I answered silently. Because I was raised on the sagas of Freyja and Freyr, Odin and Thor. Because I was named after Freyja, herself.
"Oh, I had a friend before I came here who got interested in all that runic 'new age' stuff and I thought it was interesting," I lied.
"Alright, let me just add some white highlighting to this and you'll be done," the artist said, thankfully filling any awkward space.
The needle buzzed once again and as it added white to the morass of grays and black taking shape on my wrist. Just a few more quick jolts and it was finished. The artist washed off the surface ink with some water and revealed the finished piece.
"So, whaddya think?"
"Wow," I said, honestly. "Just 'wow'."
The fehu was three inches long and about an inch and a half or so wide centered perfectly on the inside of my left wrist. I had to admit, I'd actually feel sorry to look at that spot in the morning and find it gone. Except that didn't happen.
"My turn!" Danny announced proudly.
