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[ when the feed begins, finch is sitting cross-legged on his bed, a pile of fabric in his lap that's probably the jumpsuit. he's holding one of the legs in a hand and there's a needle stuck through a seam that he's evidently been repairing. finch himself looks tired, drawn, a little too thin (he's definitely not eating often enough, though that's at least in part his fault), and his hair's pulled back with a few fruit-shaped clips, exposing vivid copper-colored eyes.
he tugs the needle through the seam, fingers rolling the tiny bit of metal between them as he glances back up. ]
I was thinking, you know, I oughta' get another tattoo. [ in the tank-top he's wearing, it's evident that he has a number of tattoos already, but-- ] I've been getting one every year since I could first sweet-talk my way into the chair. [ he ties the knot off, breaking the thread with his teeth and then shoving the jumpsuit aside. he brushes the tip of the needle over his thumb, pricking it lightly, before reaching across the device to set it down somewhere. he leans back again, then, licking the drop of blood off his skin with a shrug. ] It's a weird kinda'.. thing I do. Because I haven't killed anyone. 'Cause I'm still alive. 'Cause I'm not anyone's pet sex-monster. [ a quirk of his mouth, leaning back on his palms. ]
--Anyway, if I do--and I know there's people on this tub that can do it--it's gotta' be unique, you know? I could, uh, use some help with ideas. Just saying.
[ another shrug! then he reaches up, turns off the feed. ]
he tugs the needle through the seam, fingers rolling the tiny bit of metal between them as he glances back up. ]
I was thinking, you know, I oughta' get another tattoo. [ in the tank-top he's wearing, it's evident that he has a number of tattoos already, but-- ] I've been getting one every year since I could first sweet-talk my way into the chair. [ he ties the knot off, breaking the thread with his teeth and then shoving the jumpsuit aside. he brushes the tip of the needle over his thumb, pricking it lightly, before reaching across the device to set it down somewhere. he leans back again, then, licking the drop of blood off his skin with a shrug. ] It's a weird kinda'.. thing I do. Because I haven't killed anyone. 'Cause I'm still alive. 'Cause I'm not anyone's pet sex-monster. [ a quirk of his mouth, leaning back on his palms. ]
--Anyway, if I do--and I know there's people on this tub that can do it--it's gotta' be unique, you know? I could, uh, use some help with ideas. Just saying.
[ another shrug! then he reaches up, turns off the feed. ]
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If you get the design on paper, I can temporarily transfer it over so you can see what it will look like?
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I can cast with my eyes averted.
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[So, watch it, or you'll end up with a dragon that sings 'A Wizard's Staff Has A Knob On The End'.]
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[While it's not something that he's done himself, a temporary wriggling dick on someone's forehead after they've fallen asleep is funny; a permanent mark, less so.]
I only knew one person that had tattoos and his were practical. He'd said he got them in Thailand and that they were supposed to keep him safe from all sorts of stray hexes.
[Harry is not going to discuss the Mark.]
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[...he will not think of McGonagall covered in tattoos.]
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[Noah's already looking over what he can see of his body. But it's almost clinical, the wheels going around in his head as he does it.]
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I am. That was my job back home, and I've inked a few people on board. I'm Noah.
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Pardon?
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Incubus, bro.
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[And because Noah refuses to be shocked:]
Brilliant. I imagine this will be quite the interesting session.
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And for what it's worth, I don't think it's a weird thing to do at all - the tattoo every year.
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Well, y'know, gotta' celebrate somehow, right?
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Lots of stuff to celebrate?
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I would hope you were better at manipulating people. The best of us never get caught.
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That's kinda' my point, that nobody's ever managed to take me. [ yet. he knows it's possible, of course. ]
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...A pet?
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So if you seek, ah, feeding here, then how would your willing victims be able to trust that you won't kill them?
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But... tell me more about this incubus pet you mentioned.
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I don't know much more about him. I mean, that was a long fuckin' time ago. I know he was passed down a few emperors or something, then one of them killed him.
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What a shame, the poor boy was killed. But I suppose once someone outlives their usefulness, it's inevitable.
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Pretty sure it was a matter of jealousy rather than outliving use.
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Jealousy. Hardly surprising. Such a thing drives humans to great acts of violence, to war.
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I just go for skulls + shit when I just want some ink.
Noah's good though, he'll do you something cool.
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Anyway, yeah, he had a pretty good idea, so I'm probably gonna' go see him, let him draw on me. See what he comes up with.
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Sometimes shit's just important enough.
+ you can't lose ink.