( ... ) “that’s not a new one is it ? or did you add another one —”
soren’s long since wondered if he should change his other eye to bionic too instead of squinting it to keep up with his non-human eye. it’s been five years and it seems his vision worsens in the one natural eye while the other synthetic eye stays the same as the day it was placed into the reconstructed socket and attached oh-so-carefully. he doesn’t know anatomy that well, but kitts does and he often asks her about it, if maybe it’d be a better idea, but he’s still paying back bills even five years later — so a new eye would have to wait. it’s not truly a necessity after all.
he flips the light on in the tattoo shop, the first time it’s been on today as it’s technically the one day he doesn’t open his doors to clients. the chair remains in the middle of the room, bolted in place just in the off-chance someone decides to flinch or wiggles too much; his own stool is rolled under the desk where his tattoo machine, that he carefully refurbished, sits. along the wall are sketches of his tattoos, very few colors among them because he doesn’t normally work with colors, so it’s all greys and blacks with maybe a burst of dark blue or red here and there.
his eyes glance over his work station, the different bottles of ink, the variety of needles — all things he’s worked hard to collect and keep up. he reaches out and picks out a needle, a thin one used for lines and intricate work, and sets it beside his tattoo machine. he moves to the small sink and washes his hands, scrubs them hard, under his nails even, and then he cuts the water off and dries his hands off on a small rag nearby. he’s working on his own skin and he knows the risks and how to clean up and keep it disinfected, so he’s not terribly worried — not as much as he would be if it were a client.
with dry hands, he grabs up the tattoo machine and gets it ready, hooking it up to the power and carefully putting the needle in place after unwrapping it from the sterile package. he steps down on the pedal and watches the needle move, adjusting it as necessary, and then he’s placing it down onto the table and grabbing out the ink he wants today. he wants to add color this time, so he gets down a bottle of dark blue ink, eyes straying to the pen mark on his arm, a chuckle leaving him. blue ink — kitts rarely uses colored pens, but she had today and he wants to match that small change.
soon enough, he’s sitting on his stool and leaning over his arm, tattoo machine in hand. he dips the needle in the ink and begins on his new tattoo, making kitts’ doodle a permanent part of his skin. for only a brief time, the buzzing of the machine is all that’s sounding out in the room, until soren hears the little ‘hi’ from their resident proto, leon. a small smile is on his lips, but he doesn’t look up from his work, too involved in finishing up this one line first. he knows leon will make himself comfortable and stare at the process he’s watched so many times now, and sure enough, that’s exactly what he does.
and, of course, the questions. at first, soren had been annoyed with the constant curiosities that proto held, quick firing them at soren to the point there was too many to answer in one go without prompting more questions. but that hadn’t lasted, of course, because the proto has such a gentle demeanor, a kind face, and soren just can’t be rude or even brusk with him. so he sits and answers the questions he can, lets the others linger until he can figure out what to say. today, it’s simple — leon’s curious about his constant work in progress tattoo adorning his left arm, shaped like honeycombs but filled with doodles of various things — some actual shapes with faces and others just abstract lines.
“nope, not a new one today — filling in some space on one of these other honeycombs,” soren replies, eyes still focused on ending that one line. he takes his foot off the pedal, the buzzing noise of the machine ceasing, before he looks at leon with a small smile. “kitts doodled on my arm again… so i’m making it permanent, as usual… this time she used blue ink, so i’m copying it. i think it’s one of the first colors in the honeycombs…” he looks down at the various number of them, trying to find any color among them. “yep, first color on the honeycomb… what do you think?” he holds his arm out to leon, glad he doesn’t have to tell leon not to touch the unfinished doodle, blood still spotting some areas of it. the little doodle itself isn’t much today, just a swirl of blue with random dots placed within the spaces of the swirl. all he has to do now is the inside of the swirl and the dots, then he’s done.
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