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Zelannia Arcrin
looked like he needed to relax.
Skeevi Merrill
Tessa Sedaire
had offered usable context. That would need to do.
Ria the Cat
Yula Perl
to silence the cat - the feline protested by pawing its way across the woman's shoulders. It then nuzzled into the crook of the Yula's shoulders and remarked. Once in the kitchen the cat made the graceful leap from shoulder to counter, pushing off a cup that it had taken exception too. "I might know what it means," remarked the cat softly, teasingly as well, a playful meow before it treaded toward the ice box. "My answer depends largely on what you're going to give me."
Koh Su 's tuning fork vanished into Skeevi's coat. Just as quickly, they snagged Koh's sleeve — the one that didn't pertain to a freshly tattooed forearm.
"Hold on a sec," they said. "Where in the Hollows?" You could catch decent clients on the main drag here in Lum Rouge, but Volgho Hollows had been Skeevi's home any number of times — not just a home, but a training site. The glitbuzzed old Dagoyan lived there, for one, and plenty of other strange characters who'd played a role in Skeevi's growth. So far as you could call it growth.
Skeevi's hand tightened on the woman's sleeve. "Where in the Hollows?"
Skeevi Merrill
's, gripping her sleeve, leveling down to her eyes so that they could see each other beneath each of their respective hoods. Her face remained severe, but there was kindness at the edges of her mouth, a kindred connection.
Ishani Dinn
clearly moved around and kept strange company: she could use something like that.
Koh Su
answer.. The answers and Kohl's general vibe held more strangeness to fear than they'd anticipated. 
Skeevi Merrill
Mercy
's sleeve took a few sessions spread out over a couple of days, more to spare Skeevi from hand cramps than to spare Mercy from pain. The enforcer had the highest pain tolerance Skeevi had ever seen, albeit tempered with the occasional macho not-a-whine. But it all turned out just fine in the end. Frankly, Skeevi considered it some of their best work: a jagged, abstract sleeve that covered Mercy's whole upper arm, part of the shoulder, and the meat of the forearm too.
Koh Su
's directions, more or less. Instead of introducing themself and looking for training, they'd simply reconned the cultic presence and started stalking it. If you had a Dagoyan adept's unobtrusive Force presence and the many gifts of a street kid on home turf, you could learn an awful lot by stalking. You could pick up sentiments, priorities, techniques, iconography, and sheer vibe. You could meld some of that — over hours of work — with what you already knew about improvised Force-imbued tattoos. You could get real excited.
Skeevi Merrill
Skeevi Merrill
Liam walked up to the booth some time after the initial rush. He had been busy on a smuggling run and grinned.
"I'm a pilot and gunner. And I'm about to do something hotheaded and dangerous, and maybe lose my life. Give me something memorable, eh?"
It was as good a reason as any to get a tattoo and no worse of information that Liam had seen. He had rolled down the top of his flightsuit and straddled the chair, indicating the mostly blank canvas of his back, as his arms were covered from shoulder down in traditional Atrisian designs for both Strength and Honor, with a blended symbol of the Rebellion and Jedi on the nape of his neck.
"I can pay in barter, credits, favors, or all of the above. I'm a damn good man to have in your callbook for help."
Liam Sedaire
could get a look. "This about your speed, bud? This right here is a Frangawl Cult perimeter alert glyph. It'll tell ya one thing and one thing only: when someone's about to shoot or stab you in the back. Now if that's a good thing in your book, bud...I could sure use a ride offworld. I've never been off Denon. Where you fly?"
