Edward Teach - Blackbeard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saltandpepperbeard) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-09-09 11:29 pm
saltandpepperbeard) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-09 11:29 pm
you're the medicine and the pain, the tattoo inside my brain
Who: Ed Teach/Blackbeard & You?
What: Tattoos--Ed has a new toy
When: First half of September pre-event. Maybe post-event too, depending on how that shakes out.
Where: Sanddollars, bars, etc
Warnings: Ed-typical swearing, the mention of blood because you can't tattoo without
Notes:
[About Ten Million Health Code Violations Right Here]
Ed received a mysterious package of inks and the tools for tattooing. No stranger to tattoos (just look at him), he's nevertheless never had so many colors at his disposal before--all of his own tattoos have been made with black ink. But now...there are options.
It feels a little like looking into Stede's wardrobe, to be honest. Options. Who knew so many colors existed?
They all come in modern bottles and packaging, because these inks are definitely modern creations. No fancy Victorian era mercury or lead to poison you with here. But the needles are themselves just basic needles--stick and poke method all the way, no mechanical tattoo pen-gun-thing.
Now, before anyone gets too hyped about Ed's little tattoo station--which he has not set up to do tattoos for other people (but will if asked), so much as he's just parked himself in a corner of Sand Dollars or another small bar or restaurant with some cheap alcohol and his new box of goodies--Please do realize that this man exists in a canon that A. historically is before the medical knowledge of bloodborne diseases is really a thing and B. is not wearing any surgical gloves. It's just him, his pokey tools, his ink, and some alcohol to make things kind of clean and a towel because leaving blood all over the place is considered bad form.
He's focused on poking himself and testing out the inks on his own skin when you find him, probably, because he's absolutely the kid who would have drawn on himself in class, or the guy who marker-colors in his own tattoos when bored. On a paper next to him, he's drawn some ideas: flowers, a lighthouse, some other nautical things, some things befitting someone in rock or deathmetal scenes, and he's practiced some letters, awkwardly. Please don't tell him it looks like a teenage girl's notebook with the name of their crush all over. He knows. Fuck does he know.
"Fuck, that's a nice looking red." He offers his arm to show the bloody teardrop he's drawn.
[Want to do something else? Lemme know.]
What: Tattoos--Ed has a new toy
When: First half of September pre-event. Maybe post-event too, depending on how that shakes out.
Where: Sanddollars, bars, etc
Warnings: Ed-typical swearing, the mention of blood because you can't tattoo without
Notes:
[About Ten Million Health Code Violations Right Here]
Ed received a mysterious package of inks and the tools for tattooing. No stranger to tattoos (just look at him), he's nevertheless never had so many colors at his disposal before--all of his own tattoos have been made with black ink. But now...there are options.
It feels a little like looking into Stede's wardrobe, to be honest. Options. Who knew so many colors existed?
They all come in modern bottles and packaging, because these inks are definitely modern creations. No fancy Victorian era mercury or lead to poison you with here. But the needles are themselves just basic needles--stick and poke method all the way, no mechanical tattoo pen-gun-thing.
Now, before anyone gets too hyped about Ed's little tattoo station--which he has not set up to do tattoos for other people (but will if asked), so much as he's just parked himself in a corner of Sand Dollars or another small bar or restaurant with some cheap alcohol and his new box of goodies--Please do realize that this man exists in a canon that A. historically is before the medical knowledge of bloodborne diseases is really a thing and B. is not wearing any surgical gloves. It's just him, his pokey tools, his ink, and some alcohol to make things kind of clean and a towel because leaving blood all over the place is considered bad form.
He's focused on poking himself and testing out the inks on his own skin when you find him, probably, because he's absolutely the kid who would have drawn on himself in class, or the guy who marker-colors in his own tattoos when bored. On a paper next to him, he's drawn some ideas: flowers, a lighthouse, some other nautical things, some things befitting someone in rock or deathmetal scenes, and he's practiced some letters, awkwardly. Please don't tell him it looks like a teenage girl's notebook with the name of their crush all over. He knows. Fuck does he know.
"Fuck, that's a nice looking red." He offers his arm to show the bloody teardrop he's drawn.
[Want to do something else? Lemme know.]
Sand Dollars because lulz
But he brings over his roommate (yes, hello there) a green tea, because fuck no he's not doing coffee it's disgusting and the inventors should feel ashamed enough for seppuku or at least removing their own fingers as punishment.
"Not bad. What's it symbolize?" He wonders if anyone is going to tattoo each other's foreheads. A punishment for criminals in Japan during his time, but pirates are free. What a bizarre reverse luxury.
no subject
But, regardless, he accepts the tea, not aware of the concerns about the caste system rolling through the other's head. If he had, he'd have definitely had some...rather violent objections to being considered an untouchable, or anything lower than this other man--for reasons of tattoos or birth or whatever. Just not cool, man.
Ed takes a sip of the tea and then sets it aside. Needs more sugar. And a dollop of milk. This is probably why most of his tea is black (like his soul), not green.
"The tears of enemies, maybe." He hadn't really had a symbolic meaning at the time, just wanted to put something on his skin. "Just seemed like a cool idea. I mean, how fucking badass is that, being able to paint your skin in blood-red permanently?" As opposed to grease paint, or, you know, actual blood.
no subject
"Wouldn't that be blue or --" He's overthinking it. Nobunaga nods in agreement. It is very very badass, yes. He hasn't decided on cool, this is a slang word he has yet to test the waters of. But yes, Nobunaga is very fond of red and black, hence his painted nails with those colors. And sparkles. "It's rather like branding a sword isn't it?"
He kind of like the idea of that, and has been known to brand the hell out of his favorite swords, because just leaving his mark everywhere is a thing he has an urge to do. Very normal.
"What do the others symbolize?" The drawings.
...belatedly sneaks in tags
"Kind of. Brands are usually used to claim ownership. None of what's on me owns me."
None of the places, or feelings, or even the people. Not even Stede, whenever Ed puts a tattoo on his skin for him.
"Oh, these?" Ah, right. "Just ideas. Mostly for other people." He turns over the notebook to hide the pictures. "Got a friend I might tattoo sometime, and I wanted to get some ideas going. You got any tatts?"
\o/
Nobunaga shakes his head no. "Demon Kings can't get them when I'm from. It'd act as a type of exorcism." Literal expulsion from human society. Which, unfortunately, Nobunaga was still stuck dealing with. For now. "I'm pretty impressed that you can. Ultimate freedom. How many do you have already?"
no subject
But he's not sure what Stede would think of him chucking off his clothes for some random guy, and that doesn't really matter, but it matters. Or maybe he'd just like to imagine it would matter.
"Got a whole snake up this arm," he pulls up a sleeve to his shoulder and pulls at the neckline of his shirt, "And around my chest. Still got plenty of space for more, though."
But an exorcism, huh? Keeping that in his back pocket in case Mr. Demon King here becomes trouble. "Demon King, huh? So what do you do as a demon king?" Other than avoid tattoos, which is really just a shame.
no subject
"Nice." A nod to the snake, "Does is symbolize something special?" And a curious head tilt to the others. Still, it IS strange to see a pirate reluctant to show off the tattoos. Well, one that doesn't give a fuck that Nobunaga is the Demon King of 6th Heaven and de facto ruler of Japan.
"Kill more Demon kings, or force them to join your army," it's an easy answer, almost like he's been saying it his whole life. He hasn't, but he has been living it. "War with the gods and their servants, break --" a handwave. Castes. But it seems silly to say out loud here and now. "Everything. Anything. Build better ones. Castles. Whatever. Collect weapons." Nobunaga is a walking armory. Even beyond the obvious two katana and gun on him. "Kill monks," so many many many monks. "Pretend to be human," Nobunaga thought that one over. "I'm pretty bad at that part." And how. Almost like constantly telling people you're the Demon King of 6th Heaven makes them believe you or something. CRAZY. "Other than the eternal war, it's pretty boring actually. I always wanted to be an explorer."
no subject
"Dude, you're doing that to yourself? Hardcore." Pratt is suitably impressed.
no subject
"Fuck yeah. Besides, how else is it going to get there? The only artist I know faints at the sight of blood."
no subject
"Fainting at the sight of blood must suck. Especially here where people show up all fucked up or attack each other or whatever."
no subject
Ed's gotten most of his tattoos on a ship, not in a tattoo parlor, but an actual shop would be kind of awesome. He'd be down to get one from an actual establishment if it had the kind of vibe Pratt's talking about.
"Yeah, and he's a pirate, too. But the kid's alright. Just would need him to design the tatt on paper and not on the skin. Hear he's great at drawing dicks, among other things."
no subject
"Oh shit, you got someone drawing old timey dickpics like on actual paper? That's fucking fantastic." He loves that, they should get this guy an art show because this is amazing. Thinking about all the pirates on the ship he knows he's positive he's not talking about Stede. Likely not Izzy either because he doubts he faints seeing blood. So that leaves...
"Wait do you mean Lucius?"
no subject
"Course I mean Lucius. Unless you know something about the others that I don't. In which case, I'm all ears..."
no subject
"If Izzy has a secret art career I bet it's just stick figures spurting blood everywhere. Like just crazy gory stuff."
no subject
... He's kind of at a loss for what he should be saying.
"Are you sure you're doing it right?"
Are they supposed to, like, bleed like that?
no subject
Probably do tattoos now with some new fangled engine or something. They do everything with engines in the future, it sounds like. Does anyone do anything manually anymore?
"You got a problem with the style?"
no subject
"No, but it looks like it's bleeding."
But, hey, maybe there's a good reason for it.
no subject
"Not exactly a hobby for the faint of heart. Some cultures actually hammer into the skin, so it develops grooves, in addition to inking you. Others intentionally create scarring. None of it's exactly gentle or bloodless, but it's not meant to be. How else are we supposed to mark the skin?"
no subject
It is enough to pique his curiosity though—where he came from, tattoos never meant anything particularly nice; doing so to oneself is the stuff of foreign lands. Folding his arms over his chest, thankfully Castor's tone comes out neutral rather than accusatory when he asks.
"Why do you bother?"