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.]
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?"