<p>It wasn't often Morain went out on her own, but everyone else had left the shop for the day, to settle in to their new apartments and houses. Since the shop doubled as her home, Morain didn't feel as safe there as she had in her tiny apartment in Aurius. There were more corners, more shadows...more neighbors. She pulled the poet's shirt tighter around her chest, as if that would warm her sudden chill. Bhim was a different place, for her; it wasn't as bright as her home city. It didn't hide its dark side as well. It didn't hide it at <em>all.</em> But Weyn had told her of a little cafe up the street that was open late, and didn't seem to endorse any drug trafficking or the hiring of assassins. It was just a peaceful, quiet shop--where you could get late-night coffee, and possibly a pastry or two. That was all Morain wanted right now.</p> <p>Well, no. That wasn't entirely true. She also wanted to go <em>home.</em> So badly that her heart ached. Heaving a sigh and tightening her hold on the collar of her shirt, Morain glanced up at the buildings she was passing, finally noticing the faded white-blue lights of her destination. She made her way up three short steps and through the door into the fluorescent lights, finding a sign in her path that read in large, cursive letters, <em>'seat yourself.'</em> Weyn had talked about how friendly the hostess who'd walked her to her table was; she might be in the wrong place. At the moment, though, Morain didn't want to go back outside, and instead slunk her way to an empty booth, trying her best not to shrink into the corner of it--she needed to work on being out in the city on her own. It wasn't like everyone who came around the corner was going to try and eat her.</p> <p>Only most of them would.</p>
<p>Maeanu walked the streets like a horse wearing blinders. She had no reason to look at the ‘dragons she passed on the sidewalks and she had no desire to meet the eyes of anyone from these parts, out of fear that a glance could be taken the wrong way. She had spent a year of her life living in Bhim, but that was two years ago. Her old hardened exterior had started to chip away since then, but now that she was back in the grime of it, even if only for a few days, she felt her old protective shell growing back.</p> <p>The chores she had to come to complete in the city were done, but not soon enough. It was late and most public transportation was closed up for the night. She had holed up with an old acquaintance over the last two nights, but he had made it clear that she wasn’t welcome any more. Now it was a choice to splurge on a hotel room or to just stay up all night. The latter was her current goal. She made her way to a coffee shop she used to frequent, and was happy to see that it still existed. Striding through the front door she pulled at the corners of the grey toque on her head. A strange feeling of familiarity washed over her, everything looked the same as when she left it, this made her feel uneasy. Was she exactly the same as when she left too?</p> <p>She remembered the seat yourself policy and walked straight into the sitting area, moving with conviction towards an empty booth. Or at least a booth she had thought was empty. She threw her bag on the side of the booth opposite of its current occupant and followed suit by practically throwing herself down on the cushion. For a moment she still didn’t notice the thill in the corner, on the second beat she was hit with the embarrassing realization of what she had just done.</p> <p>“Oh vaak, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” She was about to grab her bag and leave the table before she realized who she was sitting across from. “Oh wait, you’re Morainettel Golanye, right? The enchanting tattoo artist?” Mae had a thing for tattoos, she even subscribed to a few monthly magazines, which was how she recognized Morainettel. She had been featured a year or two ago for her work with tattoo enchanting and Maeanu had found the concept captivating. “I mean that you enchant tattoos, not that you enchant other ‘dragons or anything…” Mae trailed off, realizing that she was sounding rather star struck.</p>
<p>Morainettel hadn't been sitting there long when someone came over to take her order. She managed to get the coffee she'd come for, but decided against the pastries, finding that nibbling on something would only make her hungry, and she wanted them more out of nervous habit now than anything. It seemed everyone she knew always served cookies or jam-stuffed breads and cream cheese when she was upset. Maybe they thought sugar would calm her down...but Morain was sure it was more their presence than anything else, and routines were made to be broken, anyway. She did add a healthy dose of sugar to her coffee, and even more cream, stirring it idly as she stared out the window.</p> <p> </p> <p>Distantly she heard a bell ring, probably the one on the door, but didn't pay much attention, her mind whirling with new enchants she could offer to pick up business in this new city. Even if she wouldn't quite be fond of the customers, if the rumors were true--and by the looks of everyone she'd passed the last few days, they seemed to be. But Morain was known to judge too harshly, on first glance; some of the worst looking 'dragons who'd come into her shop had turned out to be the best, and the most fun conversationalists, in the past.</p> <p> </p> <p>A bag suddenly hitting the seat across from her startled her out of her thoughts, but before she could do more than whip her head around there was a brightly colored thill sitting across from her. For a moment she still didn't seem to have registered Morain, and Morain herself was still too surprised to start screaming, but then she spoke, and the Lukuo took a nearly gasping breath, one hand fluttering to her chest. <strong>"It's alright, really. You just startled me."</strong> She offered a somewhat timid smile, and it grew as the thill continued, her breath nearly catching--if they were already known here, perhaps there wouldn't be so much of a rough patch at the start. She nodded a bit as the stranger continued, a light laugh coming out at the somewhat star struck tone.</p> <p> </p> <p><strong>"Please, call me Morain. Everyone does." </strong>She offered a hand over the table, her smile wide and her eyes bright. <strong>"Yes, I'm a Tattoo Enchanter. Although I do do a bit of enchanting work for new families, on the side. A rattler or a toy here and there, you know. Haven't figured out how to enchant a baby yet."</strong> She joked, taking a sip of her creamy coffee before setting the cup aside. It was mostly there for her to stir it, anyway; she didn't like coffee.</p>
<p>Had it been a random nobody in the booth Mae would have taken off in a flash. Nor would have been as courteous with her words.</p> <p>“Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t think there was anyone sitting here.” She could see that the artist looked noticeably uncomfortable by her sudden arrival and she regretted sticking around. She was even a little surprised that she bounced back quickly enough to make a joke.</p> <p>She took the offered hand in her own, displaying yellow digits poking out of her fingerless gloves, returning the smile. “I’m Mae. And I’m sorry if I’ve blown your cover, I spend too much time reading out the new tattoo trends and would never have expected to just walk up to your table like this.” There wasn’t too much of a risk to the thill “cover” being blown, the shop itself was rather quiet and ‘dragons in Bhim either listen intently to other people’s conversations or work hard to ignore them completely.</p> <p>The service seemed to have improved from what Maeanu remembered as the waitress who had already served Morain returned and looked at Mae expectantly.</p> <p>“Oh, I’m sorry if I’m infringing on your evening. I can go find an empty table if you’d rather be left alone.” Mae looked at Morain inquisitively, doing her best not to stare at the rainbow of colours sitting across from her.</p>
<p>Morain had a way of <em>forcing</em> herself to be more comfortable by talking things through, and the joke helped her enough to calm down and think of the thill across from her as more of a potential customer than a stranger; she was better around customers, even if they weren't in the shop. <strong>"It's fine. I was pretty much hiding, anyway, so I can't fault you for not seeing me." </strong>Morain wasn't ashamed to admit her fear, even to a stranger; the bright thill had probably seen it, anyway, when she first slid into the booth and saw Morain's face. Better to own up to it then hide it like a coward, as her father always said.</p> <p> </p> <p>The stranger--who soon introduced herself as Mae--across from her had a strong handshake, which was something Morain liked; it betrayed confidance, a comfort in her own skin Morain hadn't had since childhood, and she liked coming across people who had it. It gave her hope of re-obtaining that comfort, one day. <b>"It's very nice to meet you, Mae. You're the first one I've come in contact with in Bhim."</b> Morain smiled, settling back in her seat and then gave a little laugh as she continued. <b>"Oh, there's no cover to blow here. Ink Charms has moved here, so the more publicity we get the better."</b> Morainettel explained with the spark of a new start in her voice, the hope for a bigger, better turn out--though Morain didn't know anyone here, and would have to make new connections to get her supplies and tools, she thought the move would be worth it.</p> <p> </p> <p>The waitress returned and turned to Mae, and Morain spent a moment waiting for her to order before the suddeness of the situation caught up with her. <b>"Oh, I don't mind the company. If you'd rather go, feel free, but you're more than welcome to stay."</b> Morain smiled, glad to have company, at least for a little while; if Mae chose to leave Morain would probably go back to being uncomfortable, and would probably soon after leave, but she wouldn't mind sitting and talking for a while longer.</p>
<p>Maeanu was always a little surprised to hear about young successful ‘dragons being shy. It made her wonder if she was going about life all wrong way. Which was why she was a little surprised that Morain said it was okay for her to stay. She was also terribly relieved because it would help the night go by faster to have someone to talk to for a while. As soon as she was granted permission to stay she turned back to the waitress waiting at the edge of the table.</p> <p>“Large coffee, please, black, and of whatever is strongest brew you have lying around.” When the waitress left Mae turned back to Morain.</p> <p>“Oh, so is that why I haven’t heard too much about you recently, the move?” Mae pulled at the zipper on her jacket, letting it open at her collar and removed the toque from her head. She was dressed for the cold Mia streets and now that she was inside she could feel the warmth return to the rest of her body. As the hat came off her blue Mohawk fell to the left side of her face.</p> <p>“How long have you been here? Bhim can have a harsh learning curve.” It could also live scars and break spirits but she didn’t want to terrify the thill. Besides, anyone who could run their own business could probably handle themselves. </p> <p>The waitress was back quickly to put the steaming mug of black liquid in front of Mae. She relished the warmth of the drink as she grasped the mug between her hands. The night was looking up.</p>
<p>(So sorry about the wait on this! I lost internet for a while. ><)</p> <p> </p> <p>Morain smiled and nodded slightly as Mae spoke her question, picking up her own mug and taking another cautious sip of the extremely watered--well, creamed--down liquid. <strong>"Yes, the move's been hard on all of us. My landlord wanted me to move to Swaraj, with him, and set up shop there, but some of the artists have family here, so we came to Bhim instead."</strong> Morain shrugged, as if the decision had had no effect on her, but she'd been pretty shaken when she was out-voted. Of course, she could have vetoed and set up in Swaraj anyway, but then she'd have lost most of her co-workers, not to mention her friends. There were some times when fear just had to be faced...and Bhim, though a harsh and unforgiving city, was the perfect place for Morain to thicken her skin.</p> <p> </p> <p>She watched Mae unwrap her protection from the cold, her hands tightening on her own mug as she was reminded of the chill in the air. She should have put on something heavier than her thin shirt, but it wasn't often she wore heavy clothing; it hurt her delicate horns, even with the protective coating her father had placed there. And it was always nice to warm up, anyway; she enjoyed curling by the fire. She could only wish more public places had a nice hearth, but that was probably too much to ask.</p> <p> </p> <p>She was brought out of her thoughts by the yellow thill's question, and Morain shrugged and smiled again, her ears swivelling nervously atop her head. <strong>"Oh, a few days, at the most. We haven't had any problems yet, but I've heard the stories about this place. We're ready to take the curve."</strong> Her slightly nervous laugh added on somewhat betrayed her words, but it was only Morain who had any trouble with the city; everyone else seemed fine with it. So she would be, too.</p> <p> </p> <p>Eventually.</p>
<p>Mae was a little worried about Morain after hearing her nervous laugh, but she didn’t let it show. The thill was obviously putting on a strong front for her workers, and possibly even for herself. There was no need to go poking holes in it.</p> <p>“Well, I’ll share some of my secret pointers with you.” Mae leaned in as if she was about to share her most treasured tips. “Careful in the West district, lots of sex work there so you don’t want to make eye contact with the wrong ‘dragon. Don’t be afraid to haggle or throw your weight around once you get yourself established. And stay away from <em>The Seven Blessings.</em> Unless you like creepy old ardens.” Now she put her palm up to form a wall between her and the rest of the restaurant and lowered her voice. “I used to work there, but I don’t like to admit it.” A look of mock shame crossed her face as she reclined back into the booth. <em> </em></p> <p>She pulled the ceramic mug up to her mouth and blew the steam away before taking a big gulp. It burnt the inside of her mouth, just as she liked it.</p> <p>“Yeah, changing environments can be tough, and strangely enough, a part of me misses the place. I moved away a few years ago but stop back in every now and again.” She had a mixed cocktail of reasons of why she kept coming back, most of them not so good. But there was something comforting about the devil you know. She put the mug back down on the table. “Hey, I always wondered about your enchanted tattoos, do they require any extra up keep or anything? Magical tune-ups along the way?”</p>
<p>Morain's ears perked at the words <em>secret pointers</em>, leaning forward herself to be sure she caught everything. She was a bit wary of throwing her weight around, as she was a bit on the small side and very unable to back it up if she did, but she nodded nonetheless, grateful for even a little advice on how to handle Bhim a little better. She wrinkled her nose a bit when Mae finished with a warning about <em>The Seven Blessings</em>, smiling slightly at the mock shame that crossed Mae's face. <strong>"I'll be sure to heed your warning, then. I've had enough of creepy ardens in my time, young <em>or</em> old."</strong> She took a sip of her own creamy coffee, leaning back again and commiting the warnings and locations to memory, so she wouldn't even be able to accidentally cross into the West district or stop at any door she didn't want to. Not that she was prone to go exploring for no reason.</p> <p>A reminisent smile settled on her face as Mae continued, and Morain nodded absently, her hands tightening on her mug somewhat sadly. She missed Aurius, too; she'd grown up there, learned about life there...learned about the world. Aurius was and always would be her home; it was where she belonged. Some day, she would go back. Some day...but not today. Or tomorrow, or the next day. No; she'd learn to be strong first, and when she was strong--when she was confidant, when she had fire burning her through and through...then she'd go back.</p> <p>Only then.</p> <p>Morainettel looked up as Mae spoke again, and she smiled, eager to talk about her work. <strong>"A standard ehcnantment should last ten to fifteen years, sometimes twenty, if it's not used. If one of them is enchanted with, say, protections, and you need protecting quite a bit, the enchantment could become worn out, and one day it simply won't work. Depending on how much of the enchantment is drained, they can last up to three years, before you'd need to come in again and have it...refilled, so to speak."</strong> Morain paused, trying to come up with some way to explain further, and then smiled a bit, using the words she said to teach others how to enchant tattoos. <strong>"I picture a well, within the tattoo; a well made with the ink on your skin. And I fill that well with a part of my magicka, along with a blessing, from one of the gods. A direction or instruction, you might say. That's the enchantment."</strong> She rolled her shoulders, choosing her next words thoughtfully. <strong>"When the enchantment is instructed to protect, and you're in danger, the magicka I leave there lifts from the tattoo, and does as instructed. There have been many cases where they've saved lives from fatal blows. I don't know exactly how that works, because I haven't enchanted my own tattoo and haven't seen the effects for myself, but that's basically how it works."</strong></p>
<p>Maeanu started to feel more comfortable when Morain visibly relaxed It made Mae feel like she was less of an intruder. The thill was obviously homesick so having work, so having something as familiar and constant as work to focus on was probably a blessing.</p> <p>As Morain explained the procedure Mae reached over and pulled a packet of sugar out of the rack at the far end of the table. Nodding every now and then as an interesting point was made. All the while comparing it to her own methods of enchanting paint. She twirled the sugar packet between her fingers, shifting it from hand to hand. It fell to the table when it reached the pinkie on her left hand, as it was unable to move to catch it. Something she hadn’t fully gotten used to yet, dead weight on her hand. She quickly picked the packet back up and ripped the top off, emptying its contents into her drink.</p> <p>“It definitely adds another dimension to a tattoo. What’s the most interesting enchantment you’ve been asked to apply? Unless that’s between an artist and their customer, in which case I can keep a secret.” She reached over and picked up a stir stick to start spinning her drink uneven circles.</p> <p>“I do a similar thing with the paints I work with, but I never imagined a well, but I’ve also done very little long term experimentation. Mostly just spur of the moment esthetic changes.” As she thought further about the process she remembered an idea that had been developing in the back of her brain over the last year, but had never known if it was possible.</p> <p>“Have you ever concealed a tattoo with an enchantment? Made it look like something else?” She wasn’t sure how much she would be willing to rely on a tattoo for protection or the like, but having other magical properties definitely interested her.</p>
