Tanya exhaled, letting herself fall into the familiar rhythm. Press. Pull. Wipe. Press again. Tiny, precise movements, like threading beads onto an invisible string. The black ink faded into Ishita's grey skin, each stroke softening into a deliberate, slow gradient up her fingers.
Each time her brain wandered, she'd pull it back to the intentions.
Increase Wielders' Vitality safely
Useful hand prosthesis tool for wielder
She'd chosen Ishita's shoulder. She knew she'd eventually realise a hundred small things about placement and how it would affect her summons, but for now, she stuck to practicality. Ishita's shoulder was high enough to avoid the messy collage of bandages wrapping her forearm, but close enough to be accessible. If the tattoo could move like Assistant, it could crawl down to her wrist, and if she needed to reach for it, the height was about right.
It was also, Tanya thought, a classic first-timer's spot—low pain, easy healing. That probably didn't matter much anymore, but old instincts died hard. Even now, she found a kind of comfort in the easy placements, the ones she could trust without thinking.
Shifting her hand slightly, she filled in the curve of Ishita's thumb. The ink soaked into the skin cleanly, no bleeding, no blowout—a good sign.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tanya caught Assistant hovering, silent and watchful. At some point, it disappeared—off to whatever little task it found important—but a few moments later, it reappeared, floating beside her, ink pot in hand.
"Thanks," Tanya murmured, breaking the comfortable quiet.
Assistant just flicked a finger in a casual don't mention it gesture.
Tanya was sinking back into the work when Mrs Eceer shifted on the nearby stool, pulling Tanya's attention sideways. For a second, she blinked, surprised—she'd almost forgotten the woman was there at all. Mrs Eceer sat so still, she'd blended into the shop around them, just another piece of the background while Tanya focused on the ink threading beneath her fingers.
"Did you hear that?" Mrs Eceer asked suddenly, head whipping sideways, fingers splaying out above Ishita's palm instead of holding it.
Tanya lifted the tattoo gun, flicking it off. "Huh?"
There was a moment of pause. Then Mrs Eceer's face lit up in a slow, blooming smile.
Tanya heard it too—the soft patter against the kitchen roof. "Is that rain?" she said, her grin growing wide. She glanced down at Ishita's peaceful face, wishing she could share the moment with her.
Mrs Eceer gave Ishita's hand a gentle pat before standing, practically power-walking toward the kitchen with Assistant buzzing along behind her, still holding the ink pot like a forgotten thought.
Tanya watched them go, half amused, half curious. Mrs Eceer shoved the dining table aside and cracked open the back door. It thunked against the table, stuck open a few inches.
"It really is!" Mrs Eceer said, gleeful.
Through the gap, Tanya spotted the big red cooking pot and the edges of a few more containers scattered beyond it. They must've set up everything they could find to catch the rain.
Huh, good idea.
It plinked and plonked the different pots with drops, making a strange little orchestra of different pitches.
Assistant, caught somewhere between excitement and confusion, floated back toward Tanya, setting the ink pot down on the table with the absent-mindedness of someone only just remembering they were carrying it. Then it bobbed eagerly toward the window, unfolding itself to peek outside.
A droplet landed smack in the middle of Assistant's finger, and with a startled wobble, it tumbled backward into a chaotic tailspin—one of the dozens it had spent the day trying to prevent during the last few hours.
Tanya snorted softly, the sound slipping out before she could stop it, the rare and unguarded kind of laugh you only get when you aren't watched.
She turned back to the half-finished tattoo, a small spark of joy lingering in her chest.
Assistant steadied itself and dashed back again, sticking the finger out eagerly. This time, when a drop landed, it shivered all over. Tanya couldn't tell if it was excitement or just the shock of the sensation.
The little shake rippled from its fingers to its wrist.
I can't wait to show it snow, Tanya thought, a quiet, surprising ache blooming in her chest.
Thinking of the holiday season left a familiar hollow in her stomach—grief and memories stacked on top of each other—but this time, it was gentler than she had anticipated. The sadness was still there, but it had smoothed into something bittersweet. For the first time in what felt like years, she had a new moment to look forward to.
"Now that we have water," Mrs Eceer said triumphantly, clapping her hands together, "I can refresh Ishita's cold compress!" She practically danced her way across the parlour to retrieve the towel, and Tanya could've sworn she heard her hum a few bars of 'Joy to the World' under her breath.
Tanya leaned sideways, trying to catch sight of Assistant through the narrowing door space. Mrs Eceer must have bumped it as she passed; it was creaking its way slowly shut. Assistant had crammed itself awkwardly through the shrinking gap, determined to soak up every extra drop of rain it could.
It looked ridiculous and endearing all at once, halfway stuck like a kid sneaking cookies before dinner.
"Ya wanna dab?" Tanya offered casually, holding up a cloth.
Assistant wriggled itself free with the stubbornness of a cat backing out of a too-tight paper bag. Floating back toward her, it suddenly looped around midair—realising it had forgotten the ink pot—and zipped back to retrieve it.
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Tanya shook her head, amused, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth anyway.
Assistant finally settled a foot away, carefully placing the ink pot back down with a tiny, deliberate clink. It took the cloth from her after a second's hesitation.
It didn't need a face for Tanya to know things were still awkward between them. The air between them had a tautness, but they were working together fine, and Tanya was thankful for that small bit of peace.
Mrs Eceer swept past again, humming still, and nudged the door shut behind her. The rain faded into the background, muffled but constant, a soft drumming that somehow made the little shop feel warmer, closer, more alive.
Outside, the rain would be washing away the blood and grime of the street, and Tanya imagined pots all over London set up in gardens and balconys just like hers, reverberating with the melodic sound of drinking water.
Tanya turned on the tattoo gun and leaned in again, shading the thumb and webbing, filling the gaps between the phantom bones with little curving lines. She wondered how the magic worked. With Phantom Brand she could feel the pulse of it coming to life before it was finished, like it was real enough to push out of her skin, but not enough to succeed. Were the lines there to guide magic? Was it like a circuit? She supposed not if it would work before the circuit was completed. Maybe it was more like a heart and veins, but in that case, which part was the heart? When had she included enough of the design for it to twitch with life?
She was most curious about which of the prospective Abilities from her design Interface it would have, if any of them. She'd looked at them for so long when she and Assistsant were experimenting that she could still recite them near perfectly.
* * *
Possible Active Parameters:
Vital Sustenance (Passive): Stores vitality to extend summon time and enhance resilience.
Synaptic Flow (Active): Transfers stats between the prosthetic and wielder, aligning physical/mental attributes.
Energized Regrowth (Active): Channels stored vitality to accelerate recovery and reduce fatigue.
* * *
Working with Assistant was clunky at first. She often had to disrupt the wanderings of her mind to remind Assistant to dab or lift the gun away to avoid stray lines when it seemed to be leaning in before she needed it to. Over time, they found a rhythm until Tanya barely remembered she wasn't working alone at all.
She lost track of how long she worked like that, just her and the buzz and the slow, careful building of something that wasn't there yet.
"I've not seen a tattoo being made before," Mrs Eceer eventually said into the silence. Tanya jumped slightly. "Sorry," she said, noticing.
"Oh yeah? What do you think've me black magic then, eh?" Tanya replied. She glanced up and Mrs Eceer had a dazed look in her eye, slouching slightly with dark circles under her eyes. True to her word, her hand was still in Ishita's.
Mrs Eceer snorted. "It's surprisingly beautiful—for a tattoo."
Tanya's eyebrows felt like they escaped through the top of her head. She hadn't expected that at all. The drawl in Mrs Eceer's voice made it clear why she had the kind of deleriousness that one could only get from a night without sleep.
She furrowed her brow, and her eyes danced side to side like they were struggling to focus. "Not that I approve," she continued. "But perhaps it is not quite as rash and self-destructive as I initially suspected."
Tanya sat back and watched Assistant wipe the last streaks of ink from Ishita's skin. It was different doing it on someone else, she didn't have any of the building sensation or felt it become one as it completed, but she swore as the gun turned off, she saw a reflected glimmer flash over the design. It would have been easy to miss if the lights were on, but here, under the light of tealights on every surface, it was too harsh to look natural.
She flexed her hand, feeling the ache from the long, hunched focus, and opened her Interface as she pulled off the gloves.
* * *
Name: Prosthesis Wielder: Ishita Priya Sharma Type: Tool Level: 1
Attributes Efficiency: 14 Absorption: 19 Resilience: 6 Vitality: 3
Abilities
Somatic Link Prosthesis synchronises somewhat with Wielder's nervous system. This allows for faint tactile sensation and some motor precision.
Vital Wellspring Stores 3 surplus Vitality gathered during recovery periods. Though recovery speed remains unchanged, accumulated Vitality can be reinfused into Wielder's system to replenish the drain within their Vitality maximum.
* * *
Tanya read it with bated breath. She could see Assistant swivelling out of the corner of her eye to read it too.
"We got it," Tanya whispered. She said it louder. "We got it!"
Mrs. Eceer blinked heavily like she was coming up for air. Her grip on Ishita's good hand tightened, knuckles flashing white. She whipped the glasses off her blouse and balanced them on her nose, pointer finger raised. Tanya still wasn't used to her being able to see it too. She smiled widely. "Perfect."
She peered at the tattooed limb, lips curling slightly. "And all it took was some bodily defacement, hm? Perhaps it isn't as bad a trade as I thought."
Tanya snorted under her breath. Highest compliment she was going to get out of her, and she knew it.
It was an interesting Ability too, very similar to a couple of the ones they'd had when she decided on the design. It combined the storing of Vitality of Vital Sustinence with the transfer back and forth of Synaptic Flow. She glanced at Mrs Eceer sitting beside Ishita and wondered if that was their shared Achievement at work. Whatever it was, it was even better than she'd hoped for.
But the fleeting amusement curdled fast because now came the part she'd been trying not to think about.
Tanya placed the tattoo gun down carefully, setting it off to the side, and took a deep breath. Her eyes went to the bandaged arm. It was all she could focus on now.
Mrs. Eceer's body shifted, the fog lifting from her eyes in an instant, leaving something sharper behind. "You're doing it now?" Her voice was low, rough.
Tanya nodded, but her fingers hesitated. She wasn't sure why the simple act of pulling back the bandages felt so much heavier than it should. With resolve, she reached out, her fingertips brushing the edge of the fabric. The bandages clung stubbornly to the skin as if reluctant to part. Tanya gritted her teeth and tugged, the cloth pulling against the raw, tender surface underneath. The wet sound was the worst part—squelching filling her ears as it came off open wounds.
With each tug, the resistance grew. The fabric seemed almost to drag at the skin, pulling at it, and she had to steady her breath, trying not to rush. It felt like peeling a layer off something that didn't want to be exposed. Each layer was more and more waterlogged with red. The smell, faint but unmistakable, started to drift up as the bandages loosened. It wasn't strong enough to make her gag, but it was there—something stale, something that didn't quite belong.
The first layer of fabric on her wrist came off with a soft, reluctant rip, but even as it did, the skin underneath didn't look right. It was bruised, uneven, with patches of dark discoloration spreading beneath the surface. Tanya bit her lip and kept pulling, slower now, further down towards the hand. The resistance as the fabric pulled away made her squirm.
The last of it was a whole roll of bandages; the more she unwound, the more she could see. She barely believed it was a hand. Blackened in places, fragile where the infection had spread, and mangled beyond what she thought was possible. The edges of the skin were ragged, but it was the joint between her thumb and forefinger and the remaining middle finger that truly horrified her. They were the parts that proved this used to be a hand.
She couldn't handle it anymore. She staggered backwards, bumping into her workstation. The ink bottles clinked against each other. She spun around, readied to steady them, but none had tipped. She gripped the edge of it instead and hunched over, putting more weight on it. The sour smell lingered, and she couldn't tell if it was really wafting that far or just stuck in her memory.
"What's your plan?" Mrs Eceer asked from behind her.
Tanya didn't look up. "Uh, Phantom Brand, maybe. I don't got time to make somethin' custom, and its sharp and heavy and—" she retched.
Mrs Eceer seemed to wait a moment for Tanya to compose herself before continuing.
"Can others use your weapon summons?" Mrs Eceer asked.
"Uh, I dunno, probably, but not anythin' that needs activatin'," Tanya guessed, between shaking breaths. Her hands quivered even as she clenched the workbench.
"Then I'll do it."
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