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Nebula Arisen Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sat Apr 26, 2025 7:29 pm
Prompt: Fane has found a servant capable of giving him more tattoos, and Sorya has been found by a customer.
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Posted: Sun May 18, 2025 7:16 pm
   There were certain things in life that were funny. Fitting. Fane was a man who had far too much time for someone who really didn’t have enough of it. Every second ticked under his skin like a metronome. A rhythm that guided him through life as he did his best to navigate the hand he had been dealt.
Unfortunately that rhythm was a bit… skewed.
Nervous habits died hard. Something months of withdrawal had taught him first hand. His only solace since then being tattoos and maybe indulging in a little too much to drink late in the night when the queen didn’t need his assistance. One of which he’d assumed he would have to give up coming to Utopia.
Jesus it was so nice being wrong.
His hand folded out of his pocket to lightly rap his knuckles against the door. They’d agreed to meet at exactly nine in the morning. And Fane had been so nice as to wait outside without knocking until his internal clock had ticked over to exactly the nine o’clock hour. ”Sorya? ” Hopefully he hadn’t come too early. It was hard staying away when he was nearly vibrating with anticipation. It was a shame most people didn’t operate on Chronos time.
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Sorya's Studio ♦ Sorya ♦ fit
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Nebula Arisen Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 18, 2025 5:31 pm
  It was only natural for the subject of Sorya’s tattoos to come up in casual conversation with her coworkers. They would have been difficult to hide were she so inclined, but her manner of dress was more about practicing modesty than displaying shame over the ink Mother Arianthe had set into her skin. She was only ever self conscious over her scars, for those drew just as many stares as the inkwork did, but prompted ruder, more invasive questions that she didn’t enjoy humoring. She didn’t mind discussing the art on her body, and talking about her apprenticeship that she never quite completed, so it came as little surprise when a number of her coworkers approached her about doing work for them. She had done some commissions over the course of her travels as a favor exchanged or to pay her way, so she wasn’t out of practice, and still carried her tools of choice with her, the ones she had had the luck of unearthing from the temple. Comfortable as she was in Utopia, she only asked for enough money to cover the cost of the ink, and things had been going well.
The real surprise came when a student commissioned her. He had introduced himself simply as Fane, his clothes too fine and his hands too soft to be a worker, and she had been taken too off guard to think twice before accepting. She had only asked for the usual amount to cover costs ahead of time, and then had spent the proceeding week worrying and meditating and worrying and meditating and grinding down the ingredients she used in her inks in a ritualized process she found soothing.
The odd thing was that he had commissioned her, but hadn’t had any ideas in mind for what he wanted, instead seeming to want her to come up with something. Which she had. Multiple somethings so that he had options, and there was less risk that he would get upset with her and demand recompense for marring his noble skin. Not that he had given her the sense that he would, her first impression had been of a very gentle man, but no one could or should just trust what was presented to them. It was best to be careful around nobility, especially the very high nobility that attended this academy. She had learned that lesson very well by now.
When the knock came to the door she had reserved for her appointment, she rose to welcome the man in.
"Good morning, my lord," she greeted, offering up a small smile, and standing aside to allow him to walk in. "Please, t-take a seat, and we can discuss what is in store."
Gesturing to a nearby table, she closed the door behind him, and came to sit across from him, bells ringing with each step she took.
"Tea?" she offered, lifting up a prepared teapot to at the very least pour herself a cup. "It will refresh you during the process."
That done, she pushed forward a modest stack of parchment toward him, each one capturing the ideas that had come to her over the past week.
"Please see if there is anything you like in particular."
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Posted: Sun Jul 27, 2025 5:46 pm
When the door opened to a more formal greeting, Fane could physically feel the weight of his title on his shoulders. It was a cross his birth shouldn't have even allowed him to bear. Yet here he was, going along with it and offering the softest smile he could to the small woman.
Following her, he took the seat she offered him. The soft tinkling of the bells on her ankles helped to ease some of the newfound tension in his body. Then she offered tea.
"Please? Thank you." As she placed a cup for each of them, a stack of papers were presented to him. Ones that she wanted him to look at and decide which he preferred. Which, in a way, was sweet really. But he didn't have much rhyme or reason to the tattoos he already had. Trying to think of something that had meaning to him felt futile.
Hopeless.
A feeling he attempted to stuff down as he shuffled through the sheets of paper, trying desperately to feel a connection to any of them. A connection he knew he would forget before the ink was finished being laid in his chest.
After a minute or two, he placed down the papers. "Is there anything that resonates with you? How about we start there?"
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Sorya's Studio ♦ Sorya ♦ fit
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