So he got up and set carefully down, cautious of any groaning or structural giving in the thing- most of the world was built for 250lbs or less, and he was a definite exception to that. Elliot seemed unconcerned though, so when it didn't collapse in a heap it was apparent that they had all sorts come in wanting ink or metal. I guess bikers aren't always small. For muscles or weight. Ok...
A dot was marked on him, above beard and below lip, a mirror offered to check check the placement.
"Okay," he nodded, trusting Elliot's choice more than his own opinion on the matter. The scissory clamps were wiped, dried, then half inserted in mouth for him to hold still with before a sharp canula was also pushed with a quick hand through before he could more than blink. Then Elliot was feeding through the barbell, twisting on the second bell and voila, complete.
Had it hurt? He thought maybe it had? But it had been fast enough, and little enough he hardly notcied compared to Obsidian's trainings or senshi magic. He blinked owlishly and then looked over at Van, pointing at his mouth, "It is through? It is good?"
His mouth felt funny.
wuthering gee
