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• Markuran knocks stoutly on the door to Zahara's study-forge. "ZAHARA!!"
• Zahara absently brushes the dusting of ceiling off the papers she's studying, sighing. "I suppose I won't have to use sand to dry the ink today." she mutters, before raising her voice calling out sweetly "Yee-eees?"

<Markuran> "May I come in?"

<Zahara> "Please do, or I'll have to replace the door again."

• Markuran steps into the room, one eyebrow raised. It's fairly noticable that Marku has cleaned himself up. His hair is neat, his beard is trimmed and there are no stains of any sort on the fresh-smelling and finely made clothes he's opted for this morning. Only a few of his tattoos and scars are visible outside the ensamble and special attention is drawn, by some fashionable contrivance, to the moonsilver scars on his right elbow.

<Markuran> "Is the material for Serenal's tattoo ready?"

<Zahara> "It is heating, it should be at a proper temperature in..." she checks her timepiece, "Six minutes.'

• Markuran smiles. "Good. Thank you for preparing it."

<Zahara> "I should also, barring further interruption, be finished with this design in five and a half minutes." she gestures to the slightly dusty paper before her, "Giving me plenty of time to prepare."

<Markuran> "Prepare for what?"

<Zahara> "For the tattoo, of course." she gives him a look.

<Markuran> "You're going to watch?"

• Zahara raises a brow, "No. I'm going to do it."
• Markuran blinks. "You?"

<Zahara> "Of course. I do everything around here, why would this be any different?"

<Markuran> "Have you ever given a tattoo before?"

<Zahara> "I have worked extensively with placing intricate designs in flesh."

<Markuran> "That doesn't answer the question. This is more then just skill, it is a matter of cultural understanding."

<Zahara> "It is a symbol in Old Realm, which I have known, used, and inscribed far before you could even read."

<Markuran> "This is a very important ceremony, not just scratching in flesh."

<Zahara> "If it's so important why was yours given so quickly after you returned, without even including us, your Circle?"

<Markuran> "Because the Elders had to give it."

<Zahara> "Are you saying I am not al Elder here?"

<Markuran> "You are. But you are not one Serenal will see as in a position to perform this sort of rite."

<Zahara> "Oh, so now I'm not good enough for *SERENAL*? That whelp is in no position to judge me. Nor are you."

<Markuran> "You are trying to be obtuse! This is a solemn ceremony, not a chance for you to carve into someone you happen to dislike!"

<Zahara> "You have no appreciation for the artistry of the moment!"

• Markuran looms over Zahara, glowering down at her fiercely. "Your artistry is not required!"
• Zahara glares up at him icily, "Nor is your overbearing pomposity!"

<Markuran> "It is my right to give the tattoo. I recieved the mark in return."

<Zahara> "If you go by that, it should be the Elders who give her the tattoo. You are the receiver, similar to Serenal."

<Markuran> "They are not here and it is my duty to give it in return. If you do not understand the traditions behind this it is simply further evidence you are not the one to perform the rite."

<Zahara> "You can chant all you want, but you're not touching my Oricalque. I Shaped it, and every other speck of it in this Manse. If you're dying to tattoo the whelp, why don't you melt down your armor and use that, because the rest is off limits."

• Markuran glowers. "I will let you administer the metal if you agree to do so in the proper forms."

<Zahara> "How very kind of you." she replies drily. "I will administer my metal if YOU help me with this pile." she fans out a stack of papers: designs of several artifacts she has not yet had time to make on her own.

• Kraken is now known as Kraken|Slumbers
• Markuran shuffles through the papers. "A few of these I can find time for."

<Zahara> "A few? Time grows short, Markuran. The God Exalts? are nearly upon us. What else is taking up your time?"

<Markuran> "I have my own ideas to bring to life, Zahara."

<Zahara> "Which are?"

<Markuran> "I plan to build a net that we can string across the borders of the Sunlands and catch the Exaltations of the godspawned in. They will walk through as mortals and their sparks will be ours."

<Zahara> "That sounds intriguing. Do you have plans for it yet? Have you found the materials, determined the time it will take, and arranged for workers?"

<Markuran> "I have plans and I have begun searching for materials. It will take..however long it takes."

• Zahara continues, "The Sunlands are incredibly large. You may be better off creating regional Exaltation-catching nets. If it takes longer than it takes for the war to begin, though, it will prove useless."

<Zahara> "I suggest you begin with the Cascade, and extrapolate from there. If you wish, I can have the Puppeteers assist you: they are much better at large constructs than small, detailed ones."

<Markuran> "I must first make the netting before it can be strung up. However Serenal's tattoo is the task at hand, Zahara. If you insist on giving it, let us do so."

<Zahara> "Lead the way."

• Markuran leads Zahara to the chamber where Serenal has been staying.
• Serenal sits, in the form of an owl, sleeping on a small outcropping in one corner of the room.
• Markuran hammers on the closed door. "SERENAL!"

<Serenal?> After a few moments, a voice arises from within, sounding mildly irked. "Yes, yes. I am coming."

<Serenal?> The door opens, Serenal wearing a fairly insubstantial robe of silver silk.

<Zahara> "You must work on your door-abuse problem, Marku" she says, smiling slightly.

<Serenal?> "Do you have a reason for coming, Makruran?"

<Markuran> "We have come to give you the tattoo the Elders decreed was yours to bear."

• Serenal nods. "If it must be so."

<Markuran> "Are you prepared?"

<Serenal?> "I am ready."

<Zahara> "Markuran will lead the ritual. Come this way." she leads them to the main chamber of the dungeons. A small cauldron of orichalcum simmers with its own heat.

• Serenal looks around the room, eyeing the boiling metal suspiciously. "What should I do with myself?"

<Zahara> "Where do you wish the tattoo? In the same place as Markuran's, or somewhere different?"

• Serenal looks over her body quickly, then indicates her left shoulder.

<Markuran> "The agreement was over your heart, Serenal."

• Serenal shrugs. "If you insist."

<Serenal?> She pulls open her silk outfit even further, to reveal the area in question.

• Zahara gestures for Markuran to begin
• Markuran draws an ornate bone-bladed knife from his belt and scratches deep into the flesh of his forearm, the one now scarred with Moonsilver. Once the blade is wet with his blood, Marku moves it to rest against Serenal's heart.
• Serenal breathes in and out, in an almost meditative fashion.

<Markuran> "As I have been bound to your Pact, you will be bound by this mark to the Sunlands and her people. By the power of the ancient rune itself, you will be bound to humanity and to remember that you were born human and remain, at your heart, a person. Through my blood you are bound to us and through the metal that will make this mark, you will be bound to the Sun."

<Markuran> "As I have been bound to your Pact, you will be bound by this mark to the Sunlands and her people. By the power of the ancient rune itself, you will be bound to humanity and to remember that you were born human and remain, at your heart, a person. Through my blood you are bound to us and through the metal that will make this mark, you will be bound to the Sun."

<Markuran> #o

<Markuran> #v

<Markuran> "As I have been bound to your Pact, you will be bound by this mark to the Sunlands and her people. By the power of the ancient rune itself, you will be bound to humanity and to remember that you were born human and remain, at your heart, a person. Through my blood you are bound to us and through the metal that will make this mark, you will be bound to the Sun."

<charlequin?> #o

• Serenal grits her teeth, but nods assent.
• Markuran begins carving the Old Realm pictogram for "human" into Serenal's chest, his blood mixing with hers as the knife bites into her flesh.
• Serenal grits her teeth harder. A thin film of lunar mist covers her eyes.
• Zahara slips chill gloves over her long fingers, and lifts the cauldron ceremoniously, following Markuran's lead to a T. Where his knife passes, the molten metal follows, with prayers binding her to the Sun and the Sunlands. The amount is precise and controlled, poured through a clever spout for fine control: enough to fill the new cuts, but not spill over and mar the design.

<Zahara> #v

• Zahara slips chill gloves over her long fingers, and lifts the cauldron ceremoniously, following Markuran's lead to a T. Where his knife passes, the molten metal follows, with prayers binding her to the Sun and the Sunlands. The amount is precise and controlled, poured through a clever spout for fine control: enough to fill the new cuts, but not spill over and mar the design.
• Serenal lets out a loud hiss between her clenched teeth as the first of the metal pours into the wound.
• Markuran finishes the rune and steps back.

<Serenal?> within seconds the golden metal has fully hardened, shining with a stunning golden light.

• Serenal unclenches her teeth and looks at the tattoo, a hint of disappointment in her eyes.
• Zahara notes the disappointment and looks for flaws in the design; finding none, she suspects that being branded 'human' was not high on Serenal's list of self-esteem boosters.

<Serenal?> "Is it completed?"

<Zahara> "Unless you'd like another."

• Serenal hops up. "That," she says curtly, "will not be necessary."
• Serenal looks over the tattoo again. "I submit to the will of my Pact elders, so I cannot hold anger against you for this; but I do not find your selection of character amusing."

<Zahara> "You will find it gives you more power than you think, at the moment."

• Markuran looks down at the young woman. "I did not intend it to be amusing, Serenal. I intended it to be a lesson."

<Serenal?> "A lesson? I learned the only lesson I needed to when my honor was tested."

• Markuran sighs. "Serenal, I think we need a long discussion about virtue."
• Serenal glares at Markuran a little. "Tell me! What foolish lesson would you have me learn, exactly?"

<Zahara> "Yes, that should be quite the interesting discussion." she says, slightly amused.

• Markuran glowers at Zahara.

<Markuran> "You must learn that honor is measured in many ways. And intelligence, understanding of others and compassion are among them."

• Serenal rolls her eyes.

<Zahara> "A difficult lesson to learn." zee adds noncommittaly.

<Serenal?> "What makes you think that I lack these qualities?"

<Markuran> "You have yet to display them."

<Zahara> "She has shown some intelligence, just not tempered by understanding of others and compassion for those not 'her kind.'"

• Markuran nods slightly

<Serenal?> "I have not seen much in our time together worthy of compassion."

• Zahara half-smiles, "Are you sure?"
• Serenal 's eyes glow a little. "Quite certain."
• Zahara chuckles, "I'm sure you will see the light soon."
• Markuran shakes his head at Serenal. "I will leave you to think, Serenal. You can find me when you are ready to speak."
• Serenal growls a little.

<Serenal?> "I will return to my chamber now." She turns and begins to walk out of the room.

• Markuran strides out of the room in front of Serenal, wishing vaguely he'd choosen looser pants. These are a bit uncomfortable.
• Serenal stares at Markuran through the top of her eyes. "Yes?"

<Markuran> "Your room is that way, Serenal."

• Markuran points helpfully, wondering why he is being followed

<Serenal?> "...of course. Of course!" she swoops up her silks and turns around, walking away quickly.

• Markuran peers after her...
• Markuran shakes his head. Pretty, but not all there.
• Zahara comes up behind Markuran after Serenal leaves, "I think she was checking out your ass." she notes, and walks back towards her study

<Markuran> "Hers is nice as well, but her head makes it not so attractive."

<Zahara> "She's young. I'm sure when she matures she will make a fine mate."

<Markuran> "Not for me, I think."

<Zahara> "Perhaps that bird one then."

<Markuran> "She is too old and angry."

<Zahara> "The cat? You could use a little slinkiness."

<Markuran> "I think, Zahara, that my own taste in mates is good enough to select one."

<Zahara> "You have not chosen one yet. I thought you might need some assistance."

<Markuran> "I don't."

<Markuran> "When will Cerin return from his trip? If there is time, I will find Selonis. I need to ask him about the Peach."

<Zahara> "Hmmm Selonis, eh? I hadn't thought of that."

<Markuran> "Last time we met, he brought what he called "Peach Rind Sorbet" for after the match. It was very good. It almost made my broken rib not hurt at all."

• Zahara idly begins to imagine various scenarios in which Selonis could have broken Marku's rib, and then shared a fine sorbet afterward.

<Zahara> "That must have been something."

• Markuran nods.

<Zahara> "Well, if you can get a peach or ten from him, that would be wonderful."

• Markuran nods.

---

Tags: (:tags Serenal, Tattoo :) < The Test's Aftermath | Sol Invictus Logs | Into The Wyld >