[ Ah. So that's what this is about. The crow and cup was the mark of the Dregs, one they'd all patiently (and painfully) sat through getting. A lot of them did so with a sense of pride. Others with hesitance. The rest just saw it as a means to an end, a symbol of some form of stability.
And Inej—well, he can understand why she wouldn't want yet another mark indicating she "belonged" to someone or something. Her sleeves were always down and, he noticed, if the telltale peacock feather emblazoned on her forearm so much as peeked, she would tug the fabric right back over it. The tattoo was a constant reminder of Tante Heleen, of what she'd done. Of who she claimed Inej had been.
Being in the Dregs is more preferable—but a tattoo is nearly as permanent as a scar. And just one more thing inflicted on her without her consent.
Slowly, he closes the gap between them, picking his way carefully over the tiles, before sitting next to her. Leaving a respectful space between them, as usual. ]
Not enough leverage. [ To effectively wait Haskell out, that is. The old man greatly dislikes being disobeyed unless there could be something in it for him and could be incredibly petty in his displeasure. ]
You'd rather drown?
[ He turns his gaze to her, serious in his question. Because he knows what those particular claws feel like, so tempted to have done the same years ago out on that island of dead. He wants to confirm how much she's unwilling to get the mark before taking it up with Haskell. Best case scenario, he takes it out on Kaz, who can handle him being ticked off until he cooled off. Mostly because he's secure in the knowledge that he isn't replaceable, not easily at least. Not like Inej, who's too new and has the threat of being handed back to Heleen hanging over her head. ]
no subject
And Inej—well, he can understand why she wouldn't want yet another mark indicating she "belonged" to someone or something. Her sleeves were always down and, he noticed, if the telltale peacock feather emblazoned on her forearm so much as peeked, she would tug the fabric right back over it. The tattoo was a constant reminder of Tante Heleen, of what she'd done. Of who she claimed Inej had been.
Being in the Dregs is more preferable—but a tattoo is nearly as permanent as a scar. And just one more thing inflicted on her without her consent.
Slowly, he closes the gap between them, picking his way carefully over the tiles, before sitting next to her. Leaving a respectful space between them, as usual. ]
Not enough leverage. [ To effectively wait Haskell out, that is. The old man greatly dislikes being disobeyed unless there could be something in it for him and could be incredibly petty in his displeasure. ]
You'd rather drown?
[ He turns his gaze to her, serious in his question. Because he knows what those particular claws feel like, so tempted to have done the same years ago out on that island of dead. He wants to confirm how much she's unwilling to get the mark before taking it up with Haskell. Best case scenario, he takes it out on Kaz, who can handle him being ticked off until he cooled off. Mostly because he's secure in the knowledge that he isn't replaceable, not easily at least. Not like Inej, who's too new and has the threat of being handed back to Heleen hanging over her head. ]