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Title: Tattoos and Memorie
Author StayingGray
Rating: PG
Pairings: Gen
Summary: Wherein Zoeya gets a tattoo and dies her haid
Author’s Notes Prompted by Catter and CD, and is thusly their fault.

Zoeya steels herself and walks into the shop, staffed entirely by Mushrooms. The Mushroom at the front looks surprised to see her, but takes her into the back, introducing her to the Mushroom who’d be doing her… work. The back room is covered in art, some tasteful, others she couldn’t look at for too long. The back wall behind the counter is lined with bonemeal paraphernalia in glass cases, some she recognized the uses of and others she couldn’t place at all.

The cashier heads back out front, and the artist gestures towards one of the beds, asking what she wants done. Zoeya describes it as best she can, watching nervously as the Mushroom gets out the supplies he needs. The Mushroom makes a few sketches, and together they settle on the final design before he gets out the ink needed, telling her that it wouldn’t sting as bad as she thinks it will.

An hour later, Zoeya walks out, arms wrapped, gel in her back pocket, and a new destination in mind. Her first destination was a general store, where she purchases yellow dye.

Slowly, she walks back to the apartments, rubbing the skin below the tattoo on her left arm. The adrenaline high is catching up with her, she thinks giddily, and she grins, picking up her pace and almost skips her way to her rooms. At the door, she runs into Teep, who gives her an incredulous look, gesturing at her arms with a questioning tilt to his head. “No time to explain, Tee, I’ve things I need to do, places to be!” She grins at him and hops in the cart, calling out behind her, “There’s a meeting at seven, be there, yeah?”

The cart whips around the corner before Zoeya could catch Teep’s answer, and she laughs, feeling alive for the first time in a long time. Seeing her stop, she hops out, letting the cart fly further along the track, heading back to catch the next round of visitors. She hums, walking quickly into her apartment. She sets the bag with the precious dye on her bed and grins, pulling the dye out.

She knew exactly where this blond will go, and she knew who it was for.

The hair was for her past, blond streak mimicking His, in the same spot and the same shade.

The tattoos were for her future, as a stronger and more independent person.