Molly Grace Weasley II (apotropaic) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-07-07 19:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !open, *irish, molly weasley ii |
Urge of the Tattoo
She'd passed the place from time to time, looking inside the window, seeing people come in and out. Tattoos. They had them in her world, ones that were still, ones that moved. Part of her had wondered once if they could create tattoos that moved here as they could back home. Today, apparently, would be the day she found out. Upon entering the tattoo parlor, Molly looked around and found herself curious about all the designs. She even almost immediately found one that she liked. A few changes and it would be something to remind her about what she did back home. The intricacies of her job and the riddles she tried so hard to unravel. Something that reminded her of herself and the choices she would need to make. Once she'd taken the design and talked with one of the artists, it came out completely like she envisioned it in her mind. Now, she just had to sit through the pain. She could charm herself not to feel it, but that would kind of be missing the whole experience, wouldn't it? So she settled herself in the man's chair, moved her hair out of the way, and let the man do his work. It stung. Bloody hell, did it sting. And she'd probably have to get Rose to help her take care of it the Muggle way, but by the time the man was done, he showed her and she was in love. Her very first tattoo and she found that she was already contemplating another. But for now, she'd be happy with this one. It was feminine and intricate. Something she could build on should the urge arise. And Molly was sure it would. She was excited. She wished she had other people to show, but she knew she had Rose, Teddy and a handful of others who she could share her excitement with. The sense of excitement brought a sense of loneliness with it, however. Because those that she could share this with really were the only ones she had here. And while she knew it could be worse, she could have no one, it still stung a bit. Making her way out of the tattoo parlor, she walked down the sidewalk, enjoying the scenery around her. This really was a beautiful place. |