Participants:
| Scene Title | Name Your Price |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Keira gets a new tattoo from Brynn. |
| Date | September 22, 2018 |
Caspian's Abode
It’s one of those days where Keira Ryans is feeling much more inclined toward creative ventures than she is toward the violent and criminal tendencies that come naturally with her line of business. She’s been staying pretty constantly at Caspian’s place, (and secretly paid the Lighthouse’s rent for six months in advance), and has sent it through the grapevine that she is looking for that awesome deaf girl with the color powers.
Currently, she sits on the porch to Caspian’s place, puffing at a vape box and surrounding herself briefly in clouds of sweet-smelling vapor, before said clouds drift away into the wind. It’s still warm enough out to permit the white wifebeater tank top she wears, as well as the loose fitting shorts that she probably stole from some guy or something to that effect.
Sitting next to her is a blank glass eye, as well. Might as well pay the girl to use her skills for other valuable things too, right?
Brynn does occasionally use the building next to Caspian's place — she has a lot of room there to spread out and do her art, and no one really bothers her. The boys are kinda busy doing their own thing most of the time and not around as much. But she got the message that Caspian's lady friend wanted her to stop in. And so now she lets herself in the gate at the front of the house, glancing up toward the porch where the woman is sitting. Her nose tells her that she's out there smoking something, though Brynn can't identify what.
She comes up the stairs, looking a little nonplussed. There's no Caspian hanging out here as a buffer, so she's a little wary — probably a good thing for a young woman who looks like she does in this city right now. Slinging her battered back-pack off her shoulder, she offers a wave to Keira before pulling out her notebook to make it easier to communicate. Sure, she could use her phone as a tablet — but she's never anywhere to actually get texts, so it's basically a brick in her pocket that she forgets she even owns half the time.
Hey, she greets in writing. Cas said you wanted to see me for something. What's up? She shows Keira and smiles faintly.
As Brynn approaches, Keira raises her eyebrows and sets the vape box down atop her copy of Wolves of Valhalla on the table, the last of the cotton candy-flavored vapor flowing from the corner of her mouth as she raises a hand in greeting, a smile on her face. Wariness is understandable — although being around a friendly Keira is probably one of the safest places one can be, the woman keeping a few bodyguards in the general vicinity as a practice — she’s paranoid like that.
“Hey there,” she murmurs, before her blue eye turns down to the pad of paper. The girl can read lips, if she recalls correctly, though the woman does motion toward the paper questioningly. “I can write on that if it’s easier for you?” She smiles. “I wanted to see if you’d fix my tattoos up, and maybe add a new one for me.”
She smiles, and points at the glass eye on the table. “Also, I have a glass eye that could use painting.”
Brynn's grin widens a bit — the request is definitely one she appreciates. You don't have to write — I do it for you guys because you can't read sign. She's a little cheeky sometimes. And the glass eye thing both horrifies and fascinates her as she leans closer to peer at it. You want to put *paint* on that thing? Are you insane? That's filthy. What color you want it?
She moves to sit down in the chair near Keira's, and then scrawls out, "And which tats, and what's the new one look like? Do you need me to draw it out, or do you already have a drawing and want me to just work from that?//
Sometimes, when it comes to art especially, it becomes clearer that she and Joe are related — even if not by blood.
Keira can’t help but smile at Brynn — yeah, she and Joe are definitely related. “Well, you don’t have to do paint. I don’t know if your ability works like that, but I thought you might work your magic on it and make it look like it matches my actual eye.” She laughs. “It’s a good stopgap for when I feel like looking less like a pirate.”
The question about tattoos prompts another smile. “All of them, if you can. As to the new one, I like letting my artists put their work on me — so if you want to sketch it out.” She watches the deaf girl, leaning back in her seat.
“I was thinking something representing my new…organization. Something to the tune of fulfilled dreams and strength, or something.” She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted Brynn’s work on her — she’s apparently giving the girl creative license to put whatever she wants into her skin.
A kind of excitement lights up the teen's features, making her look even younger than her not-quite-20 years. She leans down to rummage in her bag, coming out with a sketch pad, a small container of charcoal pencils that must have cost someone pretty dearly, and an LED flashlight. She takes the small notebook she's using for writing and scrawls, Can I flashy-thing you in the eye for a minute? She wants to get a good look at Keira's iris pattern so she can match it — albeit imperfectly because no two eyes are the same. She sets the notebook and sketchbook both on the porch and waits for permission before practically blinding the one-eyed woman and staring — probably rather uncomfortably for Keira — really intently into her eyeball for a long time.
The eyeball is the easy part… but Brynn wants to get that part over and done so she can actually draw.
Keira seems more than happy to oblige anything Brynn might need to do to accomplish the jobs she’s asked of her, even putting up with the blinding light of the LED to the best of her abilities — though it does leave he blinking blearily after the fact as her vision is temporarily blocked by the spots left over from the bright lights.
“Thanks for this. I’ll give you plenty of compensation, of course — I’m one of those people who likes to appreciate artists by giving them money and not that shitty exposure thing most cheapskates like to do.”
Honestly, she’s probably going to give Brynn a large stack of cash for this, because she like helping the kids in her own way.
Brynn waves off the comment on money for the eye — she's a little busy with the round piece of glass in her hand, peering intently at the inlaid color of the thing. It's the first such prosthetic she's ever had in her hand and she's kind of fascinated by the way it's constructed. But she smiles just a bit, and passes her fingertip across the colored iris very slowly in a circle. She can't draw it as she normally would on canvas or other surfaces, she's working with it like she would with skin. Her gray eyes are closed and a furrow pulls her eyebrows together over her nose. It's incredibly delicate work — perhaps the most delicate lines she's ever tried to imagine and draw in place.
It takes close to ten minutes before her lashes raise and she studies the small globe in her hand. The flashlight comes back up and she inspects it closely, unconcerned with how much time has passed in silence — it's not as if she notices such things. Especially when she's doing art. And then she finally nods slightly and passes over the eyeball for inspection by its owner. The level of detail is on par with a real human eye.
Keira watches the entire process with a fascinated look on her face, smiling faintly as she is allowed to be privy to watching Brynn do her work. Once the eye is back in her hands, the one-eyed gangster looks it over, brows raised.
“Oh wow, that’s amazing.” Keira grins at Brynn. “It won’t wash off, right?” A glance at the table reveals a bit of cleaning solution. “You’re a great artist, kid, keep doing what you’re doing.” She sets the eye next to the cleaning solution, making sure that the near-perfect match to her actual eye isn’t going to be ruined by a good cleaning before she puts it in her face.
“I know people who love some good artwork. Mind if I pass your name along? I bet they’d love knowing of a talented artist like yourself for their decorative needs.” Keira grins widely.
It won't wash off. I literally change… *something*, Brynn can't even explain what, in the make-up of the cells themselves, I guess. It's permanent. Never fades. She shrugs a little, blushing at the compliment. Sure… you could pass my name along. Although I don't want to take business away from Pearl, either. So if people would rather their art be done the old-fashioned way, they should go see her.
Brynn's got an ethic about this matter. She and me, we have a deal — if people come in for touch-ups and stuff, she offers them the normal way or my way. My way costs a lot more, but it's permanent with no touch-ups ever. But you haven't even seen my art, so… it's not really a fair comparison or true advertising, she points out.
With a nod, Keira sets about cleaning the fake eye, rubbing it with a fresh cloth and the cleaning solution. Then, after a moment, she turns away, lifting the patch — she does her best to keep Brynn from having to see it, but one can’t help but glimpse the hole that used to be Keira’s left eye.
When she turns back, she looks like a normal person — the detail of the eye really helps out with the illusion that she actually has both of her eyes. She blinks a few times, before grinning over at Brynn. “Do I look like a creepy one-eyed thug any more?” She can’t help but laugh — she is personally quite pleased with Brynn’s work.
“I’ll be sure to send ‘em to your shop, then. Any wall art, though, I bet would be great. I know a guy who could probably use some extra decor in his office building.” Keira tilts her head. “Either way, I kinda like helping’ you and your friends out, but don’t tell Joe and Lance that.”
The teen quirks a brow. Don't tell her brothers that their friend likes helping them? That's… a little weird. But she leaves it alone and considers what Keira's asked for. Fulfilled dreams and strength bring to mind some images, but all she knows of this woman is what little Cas has said and the little the boys have said about what she does. Tilting her head, Brynn considers something… she has a book full of images that she doesn't share with anyone right now but Pearl. One strikes her as particularly relevant to this woman… and she leans down to bring out a second sketch book.
There's a hesitance as she looks over the woman's other tattoos. As if she thinks this image might not fit an overall theme that may be going on here. But she flips the pages until she finds what she's looking for, and then almost reluctantly hands it to Keira. ((https://i.pinimg.com/originals/97/ff/34/97ff34a21dbcf09c3e56cbd1022eb581.jpg))
She’s not really so much a friend of Lance and Joe as she is a professional contact — but she also likes the Lighthouse Kids, so she goes out of her way to help them out. Not that Brynn knowns all of the context — she’ll let the two explain their relationship to her if Brynn asks.
She turns her gaze down toward the drawing, brows raising a bit, and her expression brightens. “Yes.” She nods, tapping on the sketch. “I like that a lot.” She grins up to Brynn, and lifts the right leg of her shorts to reveal a mostly bare right thigh. “I think that would be a good place for it, yeah?”
The teen blushes slightly — not that it's a sensitive spot but because the fact that Keira likes the image enough without any modifications or anything else is both flattering and kind of alarming at the same time. I can take it off or hangs it whenever you like, Brynn assures the older woman. But sure… putting the image onto her skin is easy enough.
Getting up, Brynn adjusts the chair where she's sitting to be in a better position for Keira to prop her foot on more comfortably while she works. She looks a little worried, but only a little — she's only done one full piece of work like this before.
Her hands are cool as she glances at the sketch and starts to trace the image with her fingertip onto Keira's thigh. It will take a bit of time, and Brynn is careful about the details.
With a fascinated glint to her not-fake eye, Keira watches Brynn work her magic. She doesn’t talk to the girl while she works — knowing full well that she won’t be heard, and that the girl can’t exactly read her lips when she’s got her eyes on the task at hand.
She’ll give Brynn a few points. For one, the girl is a talented artist, and Key is definitely going to push one Richard Ray into decorating his office’s walls with her artwork. Two, she’s doing all of this without a bit of pain.
Generally, Keira prefers the needle, and will probably continue to get old fashioned tattoos, but this is an amazing experience, and a great excuse to give the deaf girl a lot of money for her skills. Because there’s no doubt about it — Keira is going to send Brynn off with a decent stack of Benjamins after this. She would probably pay a good $600 for a tattoo like the one Brynn is doing, and the eye would have cost probably about as much.
She’s just not going to tell the girl about the stack of money in her pocket until she’s shoving it into her hands.
With her gray eyes fixed on her work, the image seems created of out of thin air. Brynn's slender fingertip passes over the skin, first drawing the outlines of what she wants and then simply smoothing color and texture lines in simple strokes. A touch here, where she remains still and the color appears on Keira's skin and simply expands, shaping itself to fit the image in Brynn's mind's eye. Another touch there, where tendrils of several different shades seem to explode beneath the skin to create lines.
A tattoo of this size and intricacy would take hours… perhaps as much as two or three sittings to finish with needles. Brynn's work takes a little over an hour and a quarter, and that because her details are so fine they might have literally been drawn using a fine-point pen. Sharp, clear lines, the color deep and true, and the detail exquisite. No blood. No needles. And it will never fade.
When she looks up at the older woman, finally finished, there is a weariness to her. Perhaps just the mental exertion of that level of detail for an extended amount of time? But she smiles a little bit, shyly proud of the final product.
For the entirety of that hour and fifteen minutes or so, Keira remains rapt, amazed by the girl’s skill and the general nature of her ability. This would be an agonizing process with a tattoo — it would likely be a good six to eight hours, at the very least, and it would definitely be a session piece — Keira’s never made it more than three and a half hours without nearly passing out, and any artist worth their salt won’t go longer than four.
Upon completion, Keira leans down, carefully running her fingers over the new artwork, a bright twinkle in her eye not unlike the twinkle of someone appreciating a fine car or a diamond, or some other masterfully crafted item.
“That is amazing, Brynn.” Keira grins over at the girl, clearly appreciative of her new eye and the new tattoo. “Seriously, you have some amazing talent there, girl.” The woman smiles. “About how much do you think these should cost me? Name your price.”
Pulling in a breath, Brynn looks thoughtful about it — not simply brushing off the query. Finally she writes down on paper, Pearl said that to do this with needles would be 6-10 hours, depending on whether the person wanted the layers of colors or simpler coloration and the surrounding parts like the leaves and whatnot. She was going to charge $1100 for the full works. Brynn takes her pen and signs the sketch, noting on her page that it's not to be used again in this specific layout. One of a kind.
When she looks back up, she admits, We hadn't really figured out what to charge if something like it was done with my ability, so I don't know. It's only like an hour of time? A regular job, like high-paying by the hour's only what? $20 or something?
Her naïveté is showing pretty clearly there.
“Girl, you are underselling yourself way too much there.” Keira waves a hand, leaning over and pulling a wallet from the purse she has stashed under her chair. Opening it, she starts leafing through the bills — there are a lot of $100’s in there. “You charge people what your tattoo artist would charge — and stop trying to short change yourself.”
Fifteen. Fifteen 100 dollar bills are pulled out of the wallet. “I would drop this much at least on both the eye and the tattoo, so here you go.” She folds the crisp bills in half, and without waiting for a response, promptly shoves them into Brynn’s hand.
“Life lesson, don’t undersell yourself, or people will short change you as fast as they can.” She grins at the girl, leaning back in her seat and returning the wallet to its place in her purse. “Ask for more first, then let them haggle if you want — but you’re talented, and people are willing to pay good money for talent like yours — especially if they don’t have to sit under a needle for eight hours and deal with the pain and aftercare of a fresh tattoo, not to mention the touchups that always come with finished pieces, because swelling skin can mask mistakes.”
She crosses her arms. “You got a phone number I can use? I want to see if my friend wants some paintings on his office walls.” If Brynn knew Keira at all, she’d probably know that she means that she’s going to pretty much strongarm Richard into purchasing a painting from the girl.
Blinking a little and dazed as she stares at more money than she's ever seen in her life, Brynn doesn't catch the whole diatribe of instructions. She actually tries to hand it back, as if the money is so shocking it might bite her! But when Keira makes her close her hand over it, she reluctantly moves to tuck it away.
The petite teen scrambled to try to mentally catch up with some of what's been said, and she shrugs a little. I have a phone but it's never got a signal so I leave it turned off, she admits. I guess… leave a note or grab one of my brothers? Brynn would seriously consider leaving her phone on more often if it worked — but they don't really live in a zone with coverage or anything.
Part of Keira loves the reaction to the money she just handed off to the girl. She likes giving her and her siblings things. They’re good kids, and it kind of makes her feel less guilty for a lot of the awful things she has done in the past — and still occasionally does. Probably, Brynn and the other Lighthouse Kids are just the lucky recipients of a guilty conscience’s attempts at redemption — except Keira doesn’t answer to any higher power, and she’ll probably never really let herself live the whole thing with Humanis First down.
“I’ll do that,” Keira replies with a smile, tipping her head toward the girl. “Thank you for these,” she gestures to the glass eye that makes her look almost normal, and then to the crisp, intricately detailed image on her thigh. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything else — and if I know anyone who wants one of these.” The best advertisement is word of mouth, after all.
Brynn offers a grin and signs, Primal! though the Cant sign has no meaning to the other woman. She scribbles out, Thanks, Keira! and she's ridiculously excited about it now. So she tucks her sketchbooks and stuff away, then bounds off the porch in a flurry of jumps, heading for home! Wait til the guys see!!
After she splurges a little in a set of watercolors and pencils she saw in one of the market stalls. Can't put all her money into justs surviving, gotta live a little.