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 Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2014 10:49 am
Castor sat on his knees in the center of a very dimly lit room on a blanket. It seemed like everyone was looking at him, which made sense given what was happening, but it made him nervous to be the center of this ceremony for the first time he could remember. The entire room smelled of incense, there were many trays with the burning sticks placed about the room filling it with a fragrant flowery smoke. The candles set around the room illuminated the area with a low warm light. The brightest light source in the room was coming from a lantern next to the blanket Castor was on, though his hollow gaze wouldn't know it. Medea turned to Malta, "Castor is not supposed to speak during this ceremony. He's to sit there, and be as quiet as he can." She smiled a little bit and stepped to her place around Castor. "We can though, thank the goddess for that..." Tyrious said with a little sigh. "Just step into a place around Castor, you can sit or do as you like, the tattoo artists will be out shortly... or they should be, they know we were supposed to be here now and they should have heard the door." He motioned for Malta to move to a point in the little semi-circle they were making. This was a big step for Castor, but it felt odd being the person in the middle of the ceremony and being the only one not allowed to speak. He didn't mind though, this was important, his parents thought he had grown enough to warrant his second tattoo. He wasn't sure his father would've ever approved.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 9:08 am
When Castor's parents had told her about the tattooing ceremony, Malta had been excited. She remembered what Castor had told her about his tattoos, about how they meant a lot to him and his family. They signified his growth as a person, and Malta was happy for him. When they had told her she was invited to attend, however, she had been even more excited, over the wall excited, with a little bit of terror mixed in with it. She was being invited to witness a strange, alien, Magescan ceremony. She understood why – his rescue of her had been his step into adulthood, that much she had been able to pick up from his sire's... his father's conversations. She was a part of this, and so it was only right for her to be there. So, terrified and nervous as she was, she had not refused. And now it was that day and that ritual and she felt mostly odd. It was strange to see Castor so alone in the center, so isolated by the prohibition on his speaking. It was also odd how big she was compared to them – about half again as large. This was something she had begun to notice while wandering around the city: Magescans were smaller than her, and she wasn't sure if that made her more or less afraid of them. She took her place in the semi-circle, sitting awkwardly, her tail curled behind them because she wouldn't fit otherwise in the room. “All right.” She wasn't sure what else to say as she looked expectantly at the door, curious to see these tattoo artists that the adult Oblivionite spoke so highly of.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 1:30 pm
DraconicFeline Haven't shown his tattoo artist Midas in any roleplays yet and he's gonna show up in more than a few of Castor's later roleplays so I'm kind of being a bit more descriptive than I would normally. After a minute passed by the back door opened slowly and an elderly man stepped forth draped in long robes, his third eye's iris shining a bright shade of green even in the relative darkness of the room. He was adorned with many metal accessories and some piercings along his pointed ears and ragged wings. A smile spread across his face, pulling the wrinkled sheet that was his skin while he looked down at Castor and over to Medea. "It is nice to see you again child..." He spoke with a soft, frail sort of voice as he looked at Medea. She curtsied a bit before moving down and resting on her knees, "It is nice to see you again too. It has been a while, not since Castor was three when he received his first tattoo."A serene smile spread across his face as he remembered the moment and the young boy with the shaggy two colored hair. "Yes, yes, I remember. That was my grandson's first time making a tattoo, I remember it well. He will be doing the procedure again today... I think it best, he's almost a master himself now. He will do all of Castor's tattoos from now on as well." Slowly his head turned and he smiled up at Malta. "There's never been a non-bonded Khehora at this ceremony before." He nodded his head slowly. "Thank you for coming." Slowly another man walked through the doorway behind the older man. He was young, about twenty five, with gray skin and shaggy dark brown hair some of the longer sections of it decorated with metal and glass beads. His wings and tail had many little intricate details on them, almost looking like drawings of waves along the top, sections of them pierced with various types of metal piercings. His lean face looked down at a palate he had in his hands, his blue third eye scanning around the room as his hollow gaze concentrated on the matter at hand. He was mixing inks in little cups on it, his long slender fingers holding a stirring stick as he mixed together the perfect shade of yellow, his grandfather gave him the inks the first time, but this time it was his responsibility. He sat down on his knees in front of a curious Castor, who's gaze was tracing over the relaxed happi coat that the man was wearing. "I am Midas, I've met you before, but you were very young then. Too young to remember. I will be giving you your second tattoo today." Castor wanted to speak up, but he couldn't, it was part of this ceremony and his culture, and he would respect it even if it was inconvenient. "Now, you, you're the one this growth involves, correct?" Midas asked turning to Malta, the elaborate tattoo on his forehead and neck showing, as well as the ones on his arms as he continued mixing the yellow ink. "Tell me what it was that he did, that made him grow as a person in this way. I need to know so I can give him a tattoo that I think fits."
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Posted: Sat Oct 04, 2014 9:55 pm
This man looked important. He looked supremely important. Malta watched, fascinated, her blue irises glowing in the dusk of the room, as the man mixed his inks. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, how he was doing it – it looked like he was preparing the dyes and... Actually, how are tattoos made? she wondered. She understood dyes, and she knew some khehora painted themselves. Some khehora tattooed themselves too, but how? How did one prevent the ink from washing off? Malta's eyes traced the man's tattoos – he had a lot of them. If he got a tattoo for every event in his life Malta thought (since that was what this was) He must have done a lot of things.She wasn't expecting one of those things to be speaking to her. “Oh, um... You're welcome...” she said awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably. “Well...” she glanced at Castor, feeling the pressure of tradition weighing down on her, as oppressive as Endeldarth's canopy. More so, because she knew they were listening to her now: she was a part of this ritual. She was important. She didn't feel she deserved that. “He saved my life from the Mara.” She said, nervously. She remembered the road where she had first seen the Mara. She remembered how she had run. She remembered... hope. “I was being chased, and he used a...” she strove to remember the word, “A bomb to destroy it. We went for the city, but the Mara were everywhere.” she hoped she was giving the man what he wanted, what he needed for this ritual to proceed. “And he fought them. He threw himself at them...” she remembered the trap, the way the bombs were planted and the fuse and... when the Mara came. “... To protect me.” she said, “He was very brave, Mister, and I was very scared, and that is... that is um...” She looked at Castor, “That is why he's here.” She thought so, anyway -She felt like she was back home in her teacher's den, answering his questions about herbs and potions. Had she given the right answer?
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Posted: Mon Oct 06, 2014 12:51 pm
DraconicFeline Here's a sketch of Midas done by Foltz for me. He'd be wearing shorts xD but not having them there helps show all of his tattoos. He has some more on his chest too, but they wouldn't be showing in this. "Do not worry, this is not a test. Relax and take in the smell of incense." Midas said with a little bit of a nod and a smile in Malta's direction. "Your words seem genuine... appreciative, and this lines up with my understanding of the events as explained by Castor's father." Tyrious had a proud grin on his face while Malta spoke, he was relieved that his son wasn't the coward he feared him becoming, that he could be brave and stand against danger. He sat through the ceremony before, with Castor when he was just a boy, and with Medea when she grew into a woman. While he didn't hold any interest in taking up this tradition late in his life, he liked the idea of his son going through with it, being able to reward his growth with something that could show it. "Now Castor, lie on your back and take off your shirt." He spoke as he set down the tray filled with black ink on one side, and yellow filling the other. Castor obliged slowly and laid out on his back, his neck and chest in full view, scarred flesh his trophy from battle. It was a mark of courage for all to see, and soon he would have another mark to show it. "I understand that Khehora don't have tattoos... though I may be mistaken, one should not assume these things. Would you like to know about the process?" Midas asked as he took some of his handcrafted needles out of a pocket on the inside of his jacket and laid them out. He picked on up and tied it onto a metal rod with string, making sure it was secure before tying a little knot.
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Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2014 2:58 pm
Malta appreciated the tone of his voice, obediently breathing in the incense and – as if it too was under her control – relaxing into the moment. She watched with interest, trying not to flinch at the deep mark that Castor had gotten in her protection. She remembered when it had been a wound, bleeding and open, down to the muscle beneath. She remembered stemming it's blood and knitting its flesh: it was a chilling reminder of how close he had come to death in his brave act – the act which was, apparently, earning him his tattoo. In a sense, though, it was a mark of her skill as well as his courage, and he would gain a new one to go with it. Speaking of... “Yes, I would.” she said bravely, perking up, “I'd like to know how it works, if you don't mind.” She peered curiously at the metal rod and the needles, intrigued.
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Posted: Thu Oct 23, 2014 9:11 pm
DraconicFeline Sorry it took me a bit. I have a video so you can see the general process and what the a traditional tool looks like, it's just four and a half minutes. "Well you see I use these needles I craft myself..." He held up the tool with the needles affixed to the tip, so tightly packed together that they looked like a brush as he spoke with his smooth vocal tones, "to insert the inks I have mixed through the top layer of skin and to the one below it. That way the coloring doesn't escape or wash away like it would if it was paint applied on top of the skin." Midas moved to Castor's side, his knees close to Castor's neck as he breathed in and out slowly, the incense filling his nose and his lungs. The boy in laid out in front of him fidgeted a bit, to which Midas responded with a low, "Shhh... keep as still as you can. This won't take so long, relax." Castor calmed himself slowly leading to him closing his sockets and laying still, breathing in and out to calm his nerves. "Do the Khehora do something similar to these tattoos? I am interested it see if my craft is practiced among your people." He said with a smile as he slowly dipped the tips of the needles into the ink for the first time, some excess dripping back into the small cup on the palate. With a motion he placed a hand against Castor's neck and brought the bamboo tool to the skin at an angle almost parallel to the skin. The needle moved along quickly as he began an outline along the neck, the tool pumping back and forth in his hands as he worked.
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Posted: Sat Nov 01, 2014 12:10 pm
reirelight That was a cool video OwO It was a hypnotizing process, the regularity of the needle's pricking strikes and the plucking sound it made as it progressed along Castor's skin fascinated her like a charmer's flute. “I see.” she said, watching as the mark began to slowly unfurl onto – inside – Castor's skin. “Well.” she said, trying to watch and think, “I think so, but we don't have tools like that. Only khehorians have hands like yours, so it'd be very difficult to use...” she frowned, “And our skin is thicker, so I think you'd have to go deeper to get the ink in...” she thought for a moment, “But I think we do have them.” She said, with growing certainty. She'd not been old enough to have one herself, but there were khehora with unnatural markings in the settlement, and they had to have had them made somewhere. “What is the pattern you're making?” she asked, curiously.
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Posted: Thu Nov 20, 2014 9:29 pm
DraconicFeline I'm sorry this took so long sweatdrop School's been keeping me busy, and I forgot about it for a week or so. Glad you think the process is cool though, I think it is quite interesting. Tyrious boomed, his deep voice filling the room as he looked on at the ceremony. Inside he was thankful that these didn't take so long, the master tattoo artist like the men in front of them went very fast, sometimes almost in a trance working away. The boy working on his son though was doing it well, and fast, even while speaking. "Perhaps... it would be an interesting thing to experience, tattooing a Khehora... I should like to try that one day. I may have to innovate some new tools to work with the thicker skin though..." He trailed off thinking about it, if there was an opportunity in the future who was he to pass it up? "It would be very difficult to work like this without hands, I could see how that would be a problem." Midas stayed quiet for a few minutes as he worked, with a little push he motioned for Castor to flip over onto his back, looking down at him with the large blue eye on his forehead. With a long sigh Castor turned over and laid out his body once again, getting in a comfortable position before the tool began pricking and scratching at his skin again. "It isn't any particular thing, there are no traditional patterns for this ritual. It is based on my thoughts and feelings about what he should have for a tattoo based on what he did and how he acts." Midas spoke quietly as he focused on his work. The older tattoo artist smiled a bit, "Medea's tattoos are so intricate and beautiful because she was a fine young lady when I did them... I thought it would suit a lady with such a wonderful spirit to be graced with beauty on her skin as she grew into a woman." His voice was shaky but he got his point across, and Medea gave a warm smile as she nodded her head. "It is a very personal thing, no two of the ceremonial tattoos are the same."
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:22 pm
reirelight You are forgiven because I am slow as pigcrap... Forgive me? Malta watched as the pattern grew on Castor's skin, and as it continued onto his back like a long, sinuous vine or a gnarled, trailing root, and hummed thoughtfully. “If you find out how...” she said, a little haltingly, “I'd be happy to have you tattoo me...” She could see that it hurt, but Castor was handling it, so she thought she might be able to do it too. But she wasn't a warrior, but a healer and alchemist, and she wondered what sort of tattoo that would mean for her. If she got one. She bit back the obvious question of 'what are your thoughts and feelings'. She could ask it later, in private, if she asked it at all. Instead, she looked at Castor's dam, her glowing eyes tracing the tattoos. “They're lovely...” the khehora murmured.
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Posted: Sat Dec 27, 2014 10:06 am
DraconicFeline You are forgiven :3 don't worry about it. "I will take you up on that. One day. Going to have to fashion a new tool... or attempt to at least." Midas spoke as he went around filling in some black on the back of Castor's neck, nearing the end of the procedure. Castor sat still, clenching his hands into fists to deal with the pricks, it was not nearly as painful as being attacked by the Mara but it made him uncomfortable. He suspected this would be sore for a few days. After a few more minutes Midas stopped, resting his tool on the floor next to him. "It is done." He spoke slowly with a little nod looking down at Castor. Midas, doing the last part of his job, took a cloth with covered with some ointment and rubbed away the excess ink on Castor's neck.
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Posted: Sat Dec 27, 2014 12:44 pm
Malta hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath. She let it out in a whoosh when the man announced he was finished. The tattoo was beautiful, and it marked him in an interesting way, forcing his otherwise featureless skin into depth and meaning. Malta wasn't sure what was next, after the tattoo was finished, and she watched Castor, waiting. Ointment she thought, To relieve the soreness. She could make that, and the inks, and even the needles. She could make all of this equipment... and what if she did? What would she make? Would she find that such tools were unneeded? She would have to ask about the tattoos...
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Posted: Thu Jan 29, 2015 4:21 pm
DraconicFeline Sorry I'm so slow about this sweatdrop Seems like this can end in a post or so. Midas wiped away the excess ink with one cloth covered with ointment, and now also covered in black and yellow smears. After setting it down he took out another cloth and dabbed on some ointment. He gently pressed the cloth to Castor's marked skin and rubbed it down, going along the pattern carefully, making sure to go over it all. The skin would be sore for the next day or so, but the boy would survive. After getting the skin torn from his chest, this likely wasn't any large inconvenience, more of a tense moment than anything else. When the tattoo artist was done, Castor stood and turned around. He bowed slowly in front of the older Oblivionite. "Thank you... I'm honored to have my tattoo. Thank you." He spoke slowly, and with respect. This man in front of him would be likely do all of his tattoos down the road, would see him grow and change. It was a little overwhelming, but he understood the family tradition, why it was in place. "You're welcome." He said giving Castor a little pat on the shoulder, before picking up some of his needles, cleaning the ink from them with a rag. "I hope you enjoyed the show." He spoke turning his head towards Malta, "I'll be sure to let you know if I find a way to tattoo khehora."
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Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2015 4:19 pm
”I'd appreciate that.” she said, nodding respectfully to the artist, ”And...” she hesitated, stopping herself mid-sentence. ”No... nothing...” she said, retreating. She had almost overstepped her due. Her attention turned back to Castor, in part out of real concern and... pride? Yes pride. In part, because of her shyness. The question she had been about to ask the man was embarassingly forward, and she was – still – very shy. ”What now?” she asked Castor curiously.
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Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2015 11:07 am
DraconicFeline I'm sorry this took so long. o____________o Seriously. It should never have taken that long. Castor stood with his head towards the floor in thought after Malta asked. He was not allowed out of the city for a time, his mother specifically banning him from doing so. It'd only been a short while since he got back the majority of his strength, he wasn't quite in shape enough to go hunting again. He turned his head upwards once again with a little smile on his face. "Well... I can't go anywhere for now, so I think I'm going to take my apprenticeship seriously, and start learning how to sew with my uncle." He nodded, and found himself stopping short after a few stinging sensations ran through his neck. With that Castor's father cleared his throat a bit, reminding Castor of his other task. "Oh, yes! I also have to go meet Draco Verrano this afternoon." Tyrious rose to his feet once again and started towards the door. "I have to go now, Malta. But thank you for coming! I appreciate it." Castor gave her a warm smile before turning and heading out the door after his mother and father, preparing for his other activity for the day.
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