outside it's armageddon.

[Kaena Lykoi]

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http://sleepyglow.net/rp/kae/kae_razor.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat;"> Yes'm. And I am not exactly sure how the tattoos work. >_> I guess the fur just doesn't grow back where the ink has been put, or the fur grows back with the color? D: Something like that. XD     For his behavior, Vitium had done well by his mother, delivering his own children to Inferni's bosom to be nurtured and indoctrinated in the same way he had as a child. It was no guarantee they would stay, as Jael and Enigma had proven, but at least there was Halo here—at least there was this shining example of a grandchild. The hybrid smiled again at the thought, settling to work as the younger hybrid gave a firm nod. Kaena did not need to admonish her to remain still as she had with the younger children when she had marked them with the star; Halo seemed to understand perfectly well what had to happen here. The hybrid's hand swiftly scraped away the fur, leaving a roughly square-shaped bald patch on her chest. It was ugly for the moment, but in just a little while it would be filled with the chaos star.     The hybrid set the razor down, picking up the inks and the tattoo gun. She'd already played with it some, so she was rather familiar with its workings. The coyote didn't believe in tattooing just for its own sake, else she might have added more markings to her own flesh. Tattoos were like scars—they had to stand for something, they had to mean something, otherwise they were worthless. She smiled, attaching the red dye to the back of the gun. Silvery fingers picked up the mirror, placing it in the younger coyote's hand, pulling the hand until the hybrid could see her own chaos star on her own chest. "Hold it there, dear," she muttered, already immersed in her work.     It was intricate, painstaking work, hand-tattooing the girl's flesh, but the hybrid worked quite steadily, and before long, there was a red circle on her chest, the center of it pale and fleshy. The coyote set to work creating the eight different lines extending outward from that central point, thin and spidery just like her own. Before long, there was an arrow attached to each of the lines, pointing outward in each direction. The red part of the tattoo was complete, and the hybrid leaned back, stretching out her hand and shaking it free from the cramp that had started aching in her palm. "You can set the mirror down now," the coyote said, smiling faintly. It was done. "We might need to add another layer of red, but only if the color grows dull," the hybrid said. She had never needed to paint over her own once more, but perhaps that was because it had been applied by an extremely experienced hand.

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