Amanda and Marie-Ange, on tattoos.
Aug. 16th, 2005 02:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsMarie-Ange finally asks Amanda about tattoos. Advice is given, and portents of a Big ol' arguement with Doug about it come up.
Marie-Ange had waited on purpose to tell Amanda what she'd planned until just the right moment. The benefits of dramatic effect were not lost on her - it was rare that she got a chance to surprise or shock Amanda, so setting it up to just the right moment was important.
"If I wanted to, say, get a tattoo, or perhaps two, do you think there's an expert in that sort of thing in the mansion anywhere that would know of a good artist?" It was nearly impossible to keep a straight face asking that question, espically in that utterly casual tone of voice.
It _was_ possible to choke on air. Amanda was proof of it. Once she'd finished coughing and spluttering, she managed to squeeze out. "You wot?", her accent reverting back to the original East London she'd arrived at the mansion with in her surprise. "No bloody way. Seriously?"
She should've brought the camera. "Quite seriously. Nothing tacky, and something I can hide under a shirtsleeve or pants leg." Marie-Ange was grinning now. Waiting had definitly been worth it. "I need to have some way to carry an image or two that cannot be taken away from me."
"What's the point if no-one'll see... oh right, I get you. The leather brigade." Amanda flopped down on the couch in their suite, leaving space for Marie-Ange to join her. "That's a bloody brilliant idea, mind. I never even thought... What sort of thing were you lookin' at?"
"I have no idea!" Marie-Ange answered, sitting down.. "Well, some. I just.. I have no idea what is even involved in getting one." She'd made up her mind to do it, but the details sat heavily in her gut. Tattoos were permanent, you couldn't remove them. Ever. "Nothing tacky, and it needs to be somewhere I can see, but that I can cover up if I want to as well."
Normally Amanda's reply to what was involved would be "Pain. Lots of pain", but she liked her roomie too much to torment her, even if she'd timed the news for maximum shock effect. "Well, accordin' t' this expert in tattoos I know in the mansion..." And here she grinned a little teasingly. "There's a place in Salem I found that does all right - it's where Clarice got the second one on her face. Clean, pricey but not stupidly so, an' there's this bloke who works there that's a real artist. So what you're probably lookin' at is comin' up with a few designs of yer own an' drawin' 'em, an' then we go in an' get Marco t' do his thing." She paused, considering the problem. "Too bad we can't just take off for Brighton for a bit - Frank'd be brilliant help with this. But you'd have t' take into account the uniform too - 's not like you can just roll the sleeves up on that thing, can you?"
Marie-Ange shook her head. "No. I can modify mine, a bit, I got permission to do that, but not drastically. I could wear the one like Doug has, the sleeveless undershirt and armored jacket though." She eyed her upper arms carefully and made a face. "So my arms can be bare if I need them to, and the boots are removable, so from about here..." She tapped the middle of her calf with one foot. "down, could also, though I generally wear socks under my boots.."
"Be tricky, in the middle of a mission, takin' off yer boots..." Amanda mused. Then an evil grin crossed her face. "Got it! Velcro!" At Marie-Ange's confused look, she elaborated. "You cut flaps into yer uniform, hold 'em closed with Velcro. Then when you need the image, you just yank the flap open an' there it is. No need t' have too much skin exposed t' the outside where you can get hurt."
Marie-Ange thought about that for a few moments. It made sense, and while she might have to do some creative designing to figure out how to work around the padding and kevlar parts of the uniform, it should work. "I think that would work. Taking off my jacket is dangerous, using velcro or something like it would mean I only have to expose a very little bit of skin.." She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember where the leather of her uniform did not have the extra padding. "This seemed like such a simple idea when Jubilee suggested it.."
"_Lee_ suggested it?" Amanda blinked, and then snickered. "Looks like she _does_ have a brain under all that self-absorption." Pulling her knee up, she rested her chin on it thoughtfully. "Let's put aside the whole uniform thing for now - you can work on that with the team or whatever. With yer images, you can make 'em as big as you like, yeah? Doesn't matter how small the picture is? 'Cause that way you could get a couple of different ones, nice an' subtle-like. Somethin' defensive, somethin' t' kick the shite out of the bad guys..."
"I can to a point. If I know the image well, and I would think that if I had it somewhere ..." She grimaced a little. "permanently on me, that I would know it very well, then I can usually make them life-sized, and sometimes bigger." Marie-Ange hrmed a bit and pulled a small sketchbook from under the couch. "I had thought, two. One that I can make a few things from, Nathan likes to tell me how versatile my power is, and I should not lock myself into one or two things over and over, and one that is static. That I know well enough that I could make an image from it even if I was hurt or stuck or could not see it well."
Amanda saw the grimace and reached over and patted Marie-Ange's forearm comfortingly. "I like the idea of somethin' you can use for lots of things, an' you can maybe make it look pretty at the same time." She grinned. "You're clever like that. Show me what you were thinkin' of an' I'll let you know if it'll work as a tat - an' how long it's gunna take t' do."
"And something I can hide if I need to." That point was going to be re-stated as many times as she could. It was really the only thing keeping Marie-Ange from throwing the idea out. She pulled one of the ever-present innumerable sketchboks from under the couch, and did a quick drawing, just basic linework, of an interlocked pattern of the suits of the tarot. A cups or pentacles repeating between each set of crossed staves or swords. "I have seen people with those.. I am not sure what they are called, the patterns that go around the arm?"
"Armbands? Yeah, could be the way t' go, get a few things in at once..." Amanda examined the sketch, mentally translating it into ink. "'S simple, an' girly enough, an' if you get it high enough you could cover it with a t-shirt, no worries." That obviously was an issue, and Amanda reflected on the great irony here. She was starting to show far more skin than she ever had, and Marie-Ange was covering up, or looking to. "It'll hurt, but not as much as if you got it on somewhere bonier, an' if you want, I could..." She waved her fingers vaguely, suggesting a spell.
"I.. think that I can manage the pain. If I am going to do something like this, I should probably not try to avoid all the parts everyone else would have to go through." And there was something about Amanda casting magic on her, right now, the idea was bothersome. Marie-Ange didn't think it would really do much harm, but thinking about it made her feel queasier than thinking about tattoos.
Amanda shrugged, not really bothered. Since McCoy's post in the journals about her powers, it was rare that anyone asked her for anything magic-wise. Or let her offer, for that matter. She'd gotten used to it. "It stings, but it's not up there with your headaches, I'm thinkin'," she said instead. "An' one of the parts everyone else goes through is havin' someone there with 'em, so if you want, I can go with you an' Doug." It was a matter of course that Doug would be there."Just let me know when you're right, yeah?"
"I think .. I should get this done as soon as possible before I change my mind." Marie-Ange said, a little sheepishly. "I am not sure I will not run out of the parking lot and try to hide, even now." It was a good and sensible idea. Which didn't change at all that it was a tattoo, and that meant ink and needles in her skin. "And I would like to get it done before... " She paused very briefly, almost to take a quick breath. "Before classes, before the school year starts. Before Halloween, before fall, when long sleeves might irritate it?"
"Sounds like you've got some work t' do then. Sort out your uniform, work on the final designs... Clarice might have some ideas for the uniform, an' I can sit on her if she starts suggestin' glitter for it." Amanda snickered. "It'll itch for a bit, so no sleeves'd be a good idea, yeah, even in this heat." The Brit screwed up her nose a little - the heat and the humidity weren't her friends. She reached over and squeezed her roommate's hand briefly. "An' if you change your mind, you don't have t' go through with it, yeah? 'S up t' you, in the end." The show of friendliness was an increasingly rare oe for Amanda - she'd been getting quieter and less inclined to socialise since Charlie's death, and she blushed a little as she realised she was probably "gettign mushy". Reflexively looking for something to do with her hands that wasn't smoking or biting her nails, she reached for the inevitable pack of tarot cards on the table and started shuffling them absently. "Did you talk t' Doug about this yet? What did he think?"
"Doug is... " Marie-Ange frowned. "I think he honestly hates the idea, but does not want to say, or ask me not to." She shrugged a little and went quiet, watching Amanda fidget with the cards. "You know how Doug is at times, he decides that it is better to not say anything than to offend someone or hurt their feelings."
"Just a bit, yeah. Tho' sometimes I wish Manuel'd pick up some of that - there're times I wish he'd think before openin' his mouth." She shrugged a little, flipping the cards over every now and then to see what was on top. "An' you're sick of pokin' him t' get him t' say anythin', yeah?"
It wasn't easy to maintain a conversation and -not- watch the cards Amanda turned over. Coincidence was something Marie-Ange had stopped believing in. When the first few glances she took all indicated ordeals and loss and horrific problems, she stopped looking. "Doug does not want to upset me. I should sit on him to make him talk, but it is like pulling teeth. He just clams up and does not say a word."
"Sounds like talkin' t' Ange sometimes," Amanda said wryly. "Makes you almost want t' find out what will get a reaction sometimes. Still, the whole tatoo thing's up t' you in the end - you wanna do it, do it. I'll be right there with you." Then a thought occurred to her and she reached over and tilted Marie-Ange's wrist so she could see her watch. "'Cept right now. I've gotta go get Meg from Shan. You'll get back t' me when you've sorted out the uniform stuff an' you're ready, yeah?" She put the cards back on the table, not realising as she did that she'd knocked one onto the floor. "An' if you need help pokin' Doug, well, I'm good at pissin' people off, by all accounts." She gave Marie-Ange a mischievous grin.
Marie-Ange returned the grin with an impish smile of her own. "If I need Doug yelled at, I will let you know." Not that she couldn't yell at her occasionally too-conservative boyfriend all on her own, but sometimes it took "And you're a bloody pillock!" at top volume to get Doug to stop clamming up.
The card on the floor went delibratly ignored, until Amanda was out of the room. Once the door was closed, and Marie-Ange could no longer hear Amanda's boots in the hallway, she bent to pick it up, trying to convince herself that it would -not- be what she suspected. But Marie-Ange's suspicions were rarely wrong, espically when she most wanted them to -be- wrong, and the card's face showed the night sky and starry background of the Moon.
Grimacing, she dropped the card nearly before she turned it over completly, and shoved it under the sofa with her foot.
Marie-Ange had waited on purpose to tell Amanda what she'd planned until just the right moment. The benefits of dramatic effect were not lost on her - it was rare that she got a chance to surprise or shock Amanda, so setting it up to just the right moment was important.
"If I wanted to, say, get a tattoo, or perhaps two, do you think there's an expert in that sort of thing in the mansion anywhere that would know of a good artist?" It was nearly impossible to keep a straight face asking that question, espically in that utterly casual tone of voice.
It _was_ possible to choke on air. Amanda was proof of it. Once she'd finished coughing and spluttering, she managed to squeeze out. "You wot?", her accent reverting back to the original East London she'd arrived at the mansion with in her surprise. "No bloody way. Seriously?"
She should've brought the camera. "Quite seriously. Nothing tacky, and something I can hide under a shirtsleeve or pants leg." Marie-Ange was grinning now. Waiting had definitly been worth it. "I need to have some way to carry an image or two that cannot be taken away from me."
"What's the point if no-one'll see... oh right, I get you. The leather brigade." Amanda flopped down on the couch in their suite, leaving space for Marie-Ange to join her. "That's a bloody brilliant idea, mind. I never even thought... What sort of thing were you lookin' at?"
"I have no idea!" Marie-Ange answered, sitting down.. "Well, some. I just.. I have no idea what is even involved in getting one." She'd made up her mind to do it, but the details sat heavily in her gut. Tattoos were permanent, you couldn't remove them. Ever. "Nothing tacky, and it needs to be somewhere I can see, but that I can cover up if I want to as well."
Normally Amanda's reply to what was involved would be "Pain. Lots of pain", but she liked her roomie too much to torment her, even if she'd timed the news for maximum shock effect. "Well, accordin' t' this expert in tattoos I know in the mansion..." And here she grinned a little teasingly. "There's a place in Salem I found that does all right - it's where Clarice got the second one on her face. Clean, pricey but not stupidly so, an' there's this bloke who works there that's a real artist. So what you're probably lookin' at is comin' up with a few designs of yer own an' drawin' 'em, an' then we go in an' get Marco t' do his thing." She paused, considering the problem. "Too bad we can't just take off for Brighton for a bit - Frank'd be brilliant help with this. But you'd have t' take into account the uniform too - 's not like you can just roll the sleeves up on that thing, can you?"
Marie-Ange shook her head. "No. I can modify mine, a bit, I got permission to do that, but not drastically. I could wear the one like Doug has, the sleeveless undershirt and armored jacket though." She eyed her upper arms carefully and made a face. "So my arms can be bare if I need them to, and the boots are removable, so from about here..." She tapped the middle of her calf with one foot. "down, could also, though I generally wear socks under my boots.."
"Be tricky, in the middle of a mission, takin' off yer boots..." Amanda mused. Then an evil grin crossed her face. "Got it! Velcro!" At Marie-Ange's confused look, she elaborated. "You cut flaps into yer uniform, hold 'em closed with Velcro. Then when you need the image, you just yank the flap open an' there it is. No need t' have too much skin exposed t' the outside where you can get hurt."
Marie-Ange thought about that for a few moments. It made sense, and while she might have to do some creative designing to figure out how to work around the padding and kevlar parts of the uniform, it should work. "I think that would work. Taking off my jacket is dangerous, using velcro or something like it would mean I only have to expose a very little bit of skin.." She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember where the leather of her uniform did not have the extra padding. "This seemed like such a simple idea when Jubilee suggested it.."
"_Lee_ suggested it?" Amanda blinked, and then snickered. "Looks like she _does_ have a brain under all that self-absorption." Pulling her knee up, she rested her chin on it thoughtfully. "Let's put aside the whole uniform thing for now - you can work on that with the team or whatever. With yer images, you can make 'em as big as you like, yeah? Doesn't matter how small the picture is? 'Cause that way you could get a couple of different ones, nice an' subtle-like. Somethin' defensive, somethin' t' kick the shite out of the bad guys..."
"I can to a point. If I know the image well, and I would think that if I had it somewhere ..." She grimaced a little. "permanently on me, that I would know it very well, then I can usually make them life-sized, and sometimes bigger." Marie-Ange hrmed a bit and pulled a small sketchbook from under the couch. "I had thought, two. One that I can make a few things from, Nathan likes to tell me how versatile my power is, and I should not lock myself into one or two things over and over, and one that is static. That I know well enough that I could make an image from it even if I was hurt or stuck or could not see it well."
Amanda saw the grimace and reached over and patted Marie-Ange's forearm comfortingly. "I like the idea of somethin' you can use for lots of things, an' you can maybe make it look pretty at the same time." She grinned. "You're clever like that. Show me what you were thinkin' of an' I'll let you know if it'll work as a tat - an' how long it's gunna take t' do."
"And something I can hide if I need to." That point was going to be re-stated as many times as she could. It was really the only thing keeping Marie-Ange from throwing the idea out. She pulled one of the ever-present innumerable sketchboks from under the couch, and did a quick drawing, just basic linework, of an interlocked pattern of the suits of the tarot. A cups or pentacles repeating between each set of crossed staves or swords. "I have seen people with those.. I am not sure what they are called, the patterns that go around the arm?"
"Armbands? Yeah, could be the way t' go, get a few things in at once..." Amanda examined the sketch, mentally translating it into ink. "'S simple, an' girly enough, an' if you get it high enough you could cover it with a t-shirt, no worries." That obviously was an issue, and Amanda reflected on the great irony here. She was starting to show far more skin than she ever had, and Marie-Ange was covering up, or looking to. "It'll hurt, but not as much as if you got it on somewhere bonier, an' if you want, I could..." She waved her fingers vaguely, suggesting a spell.
"I.. think that I can manage the pain. If I am going to do something like this, I should probably not try to avoid all the parts everyone else would have to go through." And there was something about Amanda casting magic on her, right now, the idea was bothersome. Marie-Ange didn't think it would really do much harm, but thinking about it made her feel queasier than thinking about tattoos.
Amanda shrugged, not really bothered. Since McCoy's post in the journals about her powers, it was rare that anyone asked her for anything magic-wise. Or let her offer, for that matter. She'd gotten used to it. "It stings, but it's not up there with your headaches, I'm thinkin'," she said instead. "An' one of the parts everyone else goes through is havin' someone there with 'em, so if you want, I can go with you an' Doug." It was a matter of course that Doug would be there."Just let me know when you're right, yeah?"
"I think .. I should get this done as soon as possible before I change my mind." Marie-Ange said, a little sheepishly. "I am not sure I will not run out of the parking lot and try to hide, even now." It was a good and sensible idea. Which didn't change at all that it was a tattoo, and that meant ink and needles in her skin. "And I would like to get it done before... " She paused very briefly, almost to take a quick breath. "Before classes, before the school year starts. Before Halloween, before fall, when long sleeves might irritate it?"
"Sounds like you've got some work t' do then. Sort out your uniform, work on the final designs... Clarice might have some ideas for the uniform, an' I can sit on her if she starts suggestin' glitter for it." Amanda snickered. "It'll itch for a bit, so no sleeves'd be a good idea, yeah, even in this heat." The Brit screwed up her nose a little - the heat and the humidity weren't her friends. She reached over and squeezed her roommate's hand briefly. "An' if you change your mind, you don't have t' go through with it, yeah? 'S up t' you, in the end." The show of friendliness was an increasingly rare oe for Amanda - she'd been getting quieter and less inclined to socialise since Charlie's death, and she blushed a little as she realised she was probably "gettign mushy". Reflexively looking for something to do with her hands that wasn't smoking or biting her nails, she reached for the inevitable pack of tarot cards on the table and started shuffling them absently. "Did you talk t' Doug about this yet? What did he think?"
"Doug is... " Marie-Ange frowned. "I think he honestly hates the idea, but does not want to say, or ask me not to." She shrugged a little and went quiet, watching Amanda fidget with the cards. "You know how Doug is at times, he decides that it is better to not say anything than to offend someone or hurt their feelings."
"Just a bit, yeah. Tho' sometimes I wish Manuel'd pick up some of that - there're times I wish he'd think before openin' his mouth." She shrugged a little, flipping the cards over every now and then to see what was on top. "An' you're sick of pokin' him t' get him t' say anythin', yeah?"
It wasn't easy to maintain a conversation and -not- watch the cards Amanda turned over. Coincidence was something Marie-Ange had stopped believing in. When the first few glances she took all indicated ordeals and loss and horrific problems, she stopped looking. "Doug does not want to upset me. I should sit on him to make him talk, but it is like pulling teeth. He just clams up and does not say a word."
"Sounds like talkin' t' Ange sometimes," Amanda said wryly. "Makes you almost want t' find out what will get a reaction sometimes. Still, the whole tatoo thing's up t' you in the end - you wanna do it, do it. I'll be right there with you." Then a thought occurred to her and she reached over and tilted Marie-Ange's wrist so she could see her watch. "'Cept right now. I've gotta go get Meg from Shan. You'll get back t' me when you've sorted out the uniform stuff an' you're ready, yeah?" She put the cards back on the table, not realising as she did that she'd knocked one onto the floor. "An' if you need help pokin' Doug, well, I'm good at pissin' people off, by all accounts." She gave Marie-Ange a mischievous grin.
Marie-Ange returned the grin with an impish smile of her own. "If I need Doug yelled at, I will let you know." Not that she couldn't yell at her occasionally too-conservative boyfriend all on her own, but sometimes it took "And you're a bloody pillock!" at top volume to get Doug to stop clamming up.
The card on the floor went delibratly ignored, until Amanda was out of the room. Once the door was closed, and Marie-Ange could no longer hear Amanda's boots in the hallway, she bent to pick it up, trying to convince herself that it would -not- be what she suspected. But Marie-Ange's suspicions were rarely wrong, espically when she most wanted them to -be- wrong, and the card's face showed the night sky and starry background of the Moon.
Grimacing, she dropped the card nearly before she turned it over completly, and shoved it under the sofa with her foot.
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