Anahita (fallentennyo) wrote in darkcarnivale, @ 2011-06-08 13:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | anahita, rayna desmarais |
WHO: Anahita and [OPEN] Rayna
WHAT: There's a lull after she finishes with a customer, so she's contemplating tattoo designs for herself
WHERE: Her tent
WHEN: During carnival hours
RATING: TBA
STATUS: Incomplete
Another day, another idea and another creative vision being inked into a person's skin. Routine, but just routine enough. The carnival itself was never just the same, considering those who made it what it was. There was always something new to see or hear about. And though it might not have shown on her face all the time, Anahita quite enjoyed it. Though she still continually longed for the light of heaven, she was sure that returning to life there would only serve to bore her. Not to mention that she would likely be turned away and cast out for all of the change that she'd allowed human kind to do to her. Servants of the gods could not have an attitude like hers. The tennyo could not have tattoos that, in the eyes of the pure, marred the beautiful white of their skin. She longed for her home on principle, but was sure that returning would never make her happy. The carnival was her home now, with a family of sorts that could understand her...and yet, they managed to shock and amaze her as well.
Their current stop was in Texas. Dallas, to be precise. And though the heat did not sit well with her at all, Anahita couldn't help but find the people quite interesting. Amusing, to be sure. The accents and demeanors could be quite laughable, depending on who you were dealing with. But it was all just fine.
For her work that day, she'd dressed in a pair of black jeans, slung low in order to show her tattoos. And for her upper body, a top that looked much like a red and black kimono. The sash was thin, cutting off the top a bit below her bust. Sleeveless for the heat, of course, and the back was made of a sheer black fabric so that her "wings" could still be seen in their entirety. Blue-green eyes lines in black and lips painted in red. It all came together. She'd found that the sultry sort of look was quite effective with the men here. And you had to keep it even with male and female customers. At least, that was what she preferred to do.
The carnival opened, and Anahita watched the way that their little world came to life. The sounds, the sights...everything meshing together. She'd never tire of it, surely. Of course, she stood just outside of her tent, encouraging the passers-by to look at her designs in hopes that a few would wish to have her art in their skin. Most of her customers that day had been female, though she couldn't mind too much. Balance would come, one way or another. She'd worked her magic on a few tattoos, listening to her clients talk about what they'd seen in the carnival or about other things.
After finishing up with and bandaging a back tattoo for her current client (a cheerleader, no less), and explaining the outlined list of care instructions, Anahita was left alone in her tent. So, she went through, sterilizing the tattoo gun and discarding used needles. But even after she was finished, it just seemed like there weren't as many people passing by. Perhaps because one of the shows was going on. As the number of people looking at her designs lessened, Anahita started thinking more about a new design for herself. She wasn't content with what she already had and she fully intended on having more tattoos. The question was, what would they look like?
So, she sat down to sketch. She had a little table near the front of the tent, so she could sit and get her thoughts down and still cater to a customer if need be. The sketchbook's empty page was begging to be filled, and as she put pencil to paper things just...flowed. The first few were more of tribal designs to be wrapped around the wrist. But as she went on, she was inspired by something else. Before she knew it, she'd started in on sketching a hagoromo. Then came the delicate face and hands...the biwa, the mountain pool...it was a rendering of a tennyo. "Interesting..." she mused, putting pencil to paper again to shade and add finishing touches. Perhaps it would be a new tattoo, to hold dear to the life she'd once had.