[It doesn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. His coworkers at the Shatterdome had psyched him out, citing how he'd moaned for days over accidentally slicing his finger open with a scalpel in their first week in Tokyo, how before that he couldn't handle the chill of an Alaskan spring. Someone stabbing a needle into his skin on repeat for hours would surely kill him. They suggested he start with a smaller, simpler design. Maybe something that isn't a Kaiju, too.
He'd told them all to go to hell and insisted he'd be fine, and look at that, he is. It hurts, yes, but that's part of the appeal. He wants everyone to stop treating him like some brittle nerd. He's more than glasses and a lab coat. He can handle the pain.
The most difficult part is actually sitting still. He alternates chatting with the artist—she was delighted to learn that he speaks Japanese—chatting with her about techniques and tools, and just watching her work in fascinated silence. Even for him, it's difficult to carry a conversation for five hours straight.
Hundun's outline starts to take shape on his forearm, and then Reckoner hugging his bicep, and she manages to start on the colors before they're done. Swirls of yellow and red fill in the blank spaces between aliens, overtaking his freckles and pale skin. Working in the lab with his arm all wrapped up is going to be annoying, but it'll be worth it, just like the hours of fighting the urge to fidget and the sharp burning in his skin have been worth it. He tells her about his plans for his other arm and then maybe his back, he's not sure, while she scrolls through a calendar to schedule his next session.
"Kaiceph would look good up here," he says, pointing at his left shoulder. "Then, I don't know... Maybe Onibaba. He was new, you know? We'd never seen anything like him when he breached. Still haven't since. I'd kill to get my hands on, like, even a junk specimen of his exoskeleton."
She glances up at him over the computer, and then at her next appointment waiting in the lobby. His eyes follow, though he's not sure what she's looking at.
"Onibaba attacked here," she whispers.
A small flare of annoyance lights up in his chest. "Yeah, I know. I study the things." Had he not made that clear? Maybe his Japanese isn't as good as he thought it was. "I'm K-Science at the Shatterdome?"
She just shrugs, swiveling the screen so he can pick a timeslot. Her lips are pursed and he can't tell if she's offended or concentrating.
"I could just wait for something cooler to breach, too." There, a compromise.
She snorts. "I'm sure you won't be waiting long."]
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completelycrazy) wrote2018-11-26 09:33 am
4. Newt getting his first tattoo
He'd told them all to go to hell and insisted he'd be fine, and look at that, he is. It hurts, yes, but that's part of the appeal. He wants everyone to stop treating him like some brittle nerd. He's more than glasses and a lab coat. He can handle the pain.
The most difficult part is actually sitting still. He alternates chatting with the artist—she was delighted to learn that he speaks Japanese—chatting with her about techniques and tools, and just watching her work in fascinated silence. Even for him, it's difficult to carry a conversation for five hours straight.
Hundun's outline starts to take shape on his forearm, and then Reckoner hugging his bicep, and she manages to start on the colors before they're done. Swirls of yellow and red fill in the blank spaces between aliens, overtaking his freckles and pale skin. Working in the lab with his arm all wrapped up is going to be annoying, but it'll be worth it, just like the hours of fighting the urge to fidget and the sharp burning in his skin have been worth it. He tells her about his plans for his other arm and then maybe his back, he's not sure, while she scrolls through a calendar to schedule his next session.
"Kaiceph would look good up here," he says, pointing at his left shoulder. "Then, I don't know... Maybe Onibaba. He was new, you know? We'd never seen anything like him when he breached. Still haven't since. I'd kill to get my hands on, like, even a junk specimen of his exoskeleton."
She glances up at him over the computer, and then at her next appointment waiting in the lobby. His eyes follow, though he's not sure what she's looking at.
"Onibaba attacked here," she whispers.
A small flare of annoyance lights up in his chest. "Yeah, I know. I study the things." Had he not made that clear? Maybe his Japanese isn't as good as he thought it was. "I'm K-Science at the Shatterdome?"
She just shrugs, swiveling the screen so he can pick a timeslot. Her lips are pursed and he can't tell if she's offended or concentrating.
"I could just wait for something cooler to breach, too." There, a compromise.
She snorts. "I'm sure you won't be waiting long."]