02-04-2010, 08:14 PM
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Strel decided to finally gather whatever drops of courage lingered in his small reserve of the stuff and get something done to his body beyond the only two piercings adorning his ears. The redhead had wanted a tattoo for long enough that he could remember whining about it in Toronto. But there he had never been able to get comfortable with anyone a good enough length of time to be comfortable and familiar with them. Though sure, here in Cour des Miracles, he was not really terribly acquainted with Firefly, but at least he could trust her to do her job well, since she had to have earned it himself. So there was little to be afraid of. Well, except for the fact that the Marquis did not know how the woman did her body art and whether or not he would end up whimpering in pain. Plus, he hoped he would not have to pay some large pecuniary price.
"Firefly?" he called out, wondering to where he had been told to find the tattoo artist. He was not completely sure she would be here, since others in the pack would most likely try to see what they could do for the war. Not Strel. No way, no how. He would stay far away from the conflict and it would most definitely be on one of his mental back burners. He did not see her, but he did see a cat perched on a railing. Confused, he moved around again, wondering if peeking into a window would help see if the Lady was in. When the door closed, the redhead returned to the door to see her standing outside of it. Smiling as genteelly as he could, Strelein gave a short, sharp whistle. "Why hello, Firefly. Isn't it a bit early for the pretty lights to be out to play?" The Marquis leaned against the railing, smug look on his face.
Strel decided to finally gather whatever drops of courage lingered in his small reserve of the stuff and get something done to his body beyond the only two piercings adorning his ears. The redhead had wanted a tattoo for long enough that he could remember whining about it in Toronto. But there he had never been able to get comfortable with anyone a good enough length of time to be comfortable and familiar with them. Though sure, here in Cour des Miracles, he was not really terribly acquainted with Firefly, but at least he could trust her to do her job well, since she had to have earned it himself. So there was little to be afraid of. Well, except for the fact that the Marquis did not know how the woman did her body art and whether or not he would end up whimpering in pain. Plus, he hoped he would not have to pay some large pecuniary price.
"Firefly?" he called out, wondering to where he had been told to find the tattoo artist. He was not completely sure she would be here, since others in the pack would most likely try to see what they could do for the war. Not Strel. No way, no how. He would stay far away from the conflict and it would most definitely be on one of his mental back burners. He did not see her, but he did see a cat perched on a railing. Confused, he moved around again, wondering if peeking into a window would help see if the Lady was in. When the door closed, the redhead returned to the door to see her standing outside of it. Smiling as genteelly as he could, Strelein gave a short, sharp whistle. "Why hello, Firefly. Isn't it a bit early for the pretty lights to be out to play?" The Marquis leaned against the railing, smug look on his face.