Covered In The Colors

[Lucy Serrano]

A shame for some was the additive that felt most fitting. She couldn't help the way she genuinely laughed at the notion, small as a chuckle was from her mouth. Her attention seemed briefly turned to the belongings she brought with her. Designs already able to be transported. She pressed her lips together as she fought the urge to laugh again when she continued.

"I dunno what you're talking about." Lucy offered, but her voice carried a knowing sense to it. She was practically smug, which seemed bizarre given her position which had only just been called into play.

She kept a delicate enough hold on the hand in her own then. Attention to the forearm of the woman she had just met where she was slow and precise to press opaque paper down to the skin, a design completely covered by the palm of her hand.

"Feel free to elaborate. We'll be here for a bit."

[Penelope Blaise]

While her eyes remained closed, Penelope didn't have to look to able to tell the sort of expression this woman was wearing. She could literally hear it with the way she laughed. It put a crease between the Brit's eyebrows as she was hit with a wave of annoyance. Despite the response she was given, the tone this woman used was less than innocent.

When Penelope felt the stencil pressed against her arm, she opened her eyes again, keeping still enough where she wouldn't disturb the imprint being left on her skin but could still manage a glance. These were, after all, tattoos she was supposed to have a connection with. If anything, watching the process might help with it.

"Don't act stupid; it suits you too well." She replied flatly instead.

[Lucy Serrano]

Lucy was practically delicate as her fingertips brushed across the paper placed against her skin. It felt imperative to make enough of a connection to let it settle. To keep it still and pressed well enough. Contact with a stranger was all part of the job and the life she lead; at the very least, if her mouth would continue to get her into trouble her work could stand for itself.

Skin to skin as she pressed her palm flat. Fingertips breached the line that was previously covered.

"Educate me." Lucy tried instead, nodding her head to the side once. She spared a glance upwards towards her eyes, but it was hardly fleeting as she found her attention lingering; "You look like you'd be good at that."

[Penelope Blaise]

Skin to skin contact. It wasn't anything out of professional normality, but the artist had a delicate touch that was practically unseen in this industry. Though she could have easily watched the process, instead her gaze settled on the woman herself. All it took was a glance from her, and their eyes met for a little too long.

Educate. She almost thought to laugh, were she the one to do so easily. Amusement hadn't even filled her features as she continued to stare back at this woman.

"What sort of game are you playing at?" Penelope asked, trying a different approach. "What benefits you from flirting with me?" Other than the obvious association that would come with being close with Hollywood's Gay Icon.

[Lucy Serrano]

Flirting? Lucy did purse her lips like the very word was offensive. But more to the point, it kept her expression from growing anywhere near familiar with the concept itself. In the pressed nature of her palm, her thumb was slow to graze the edge of the stencil's paper provided. Just against the skin. Highly professional, surely. It was a necessity to apply pressure.

"Does it really matter?" Lucy asked her, refusing to look away for another second or so.

But she did. Eventually. As the nature of her mouth switched back to something of an amused smile half hidden by the dropped notion of her own eyes. Finally, she forced herself to let go of the hand she held, sure it could be kept up of its own accord. But then, her fingers were immediately tracked across the line of her neck, barely exposed by the current cut of her own hair. Eyes to her own hand.

"I'm far below your standards." She added quickly, adopting the kind of British accent that could only be used to insult.

[Penelope Blaise]

She was asked a question in turn, rather than gaining any sort of insight to what this woman was thinking. Except, it did give away more information than it let on. That, in fact, she was trying to flirt with the actress. With that information, she lost the hand that stabilized her, but she worked to keep herself still regardless.

The woman's face was half hidden, but Penelope was still sure she could see the hint of a grin, or some other sign of amusement. Was this supposed to be funny? She couldn't find the humor that plagued the artist, but her attention diverted when her gaze followed where her hand had landed. Penelope stared a little too long at the curve of her neck before she forced her eyes upward.

Just in time to catch the forced accent that made the British woman cringe. There was no doubt behind the meaning of it, and she sat a little straighter in her seat. "You're absolutely right." She replied harshly.

[Lucy Serrano]

Nails lightly tracked over her neck once, controlling a sudden twinge that kept her attention wayward. Truth be told, Lucy liked the way it seemed so easy to rile this person up. A few cleverly placed sentences and she was almost positive she had this under a kind of control she could manage. But a harsh response caught her ears over anything remotely flustered like she was used to. It was always a lot easier to deal with the former over this.

Pursed lips harboured some kind of refusal to the fact that she was agreed with. Of course, she couldn't expect anything less from someone so obviously wound up. She did her best to not take it personally, which wasn't all that difficult given who she was. At least, that was the theory. Parting her lips, she offered a humoured exhale.

Dropping her hand, she was slow to peel the paper away from her forearm and discard of it onto a nearby surface.

"So," She started, staring at detailed blue wings before she glanced back up again. For the most part, business was surely something Lucy could handle with a more neutral approach; "I gave you a dragon."

[Penelope Blaise]

There was something admittedly satisfying in the purse of this woman's lips - like the comment as struck some sort of nerve her ego wasn't ready to handle. It was well deserved, Penelope concluded, considering the way it began. The saying was that if one played with fire, they would get burned, and it proved truer than ever here.

She glanced down at the purple ink that wrapped part of her arm, though from her own perspective it was a struggle to make out anything definite. Though she could catch a few of the details of the creature described to her.

"Why?" She asked, her tone giving into a little curiosity. "Is it what the director wanted?" Truly, Penny hadn't known. Communication wasn't always the best on set, but she would work with what she was given.

[Lucy Serrano]

Lucy took time to follow the lines of the new development on her arm. Settled ink against her skin harboured the image of a significantly detailed dragon. Her index finger traced the length of the winding tail that threatened the curve of her elbow.

There was honesty to the question posed. It was the kind of thing she hadn't completely expected from someone so prone to insulting her right off the bad. Lucy shook her head first.

"Nah, nothing specific like that. I just thought it suited you." She replied honestly. There could have been a multitude of reasons for that, but she didn't give a single one; "Would you rather something different?"

[Penelope Blaise]

There was purpose to Penelope's question - she rarely asked anything without it at all. By then, she'd already read the script several times over. She knew the character she was to portray and a dragon was suiting, but she knew the director as well - he wasn't one to give much actual direction. So it hadn't surprised her to hear that it wasn't his decision for the winged creature now residing on her arm.

What was a surprise was that the artist stated it suited the actress rather than the character. Her eyebrows quirked upward briefly, eyes looking up to the woman working on her.

She ignored the question entirely, focusing rather on the prior statement. "How so?"

[Lucy Serrano]

Overt flirting aside - for now, at least - Lucy did her best to focus on the positivity that slowly dwindled in a space like this. When she learned that this particular girl was difficult, she had no idea what to expect. People said that about just about anyone who carried a little weight. And when it was women? Stories seemed to grow tenfold.

Her hand brushed down the length of the newly acquired ink she'd have to grow accustomed to. "Tattoos, for the most part, have to have a kind of connection to you. Everything we ever get, even if it looks stupid, reflects something. It's worth remembering, or... Worth the reminder it gives you, anyway." She explained, giving a preface for her own situation. She could likely be scolded for some of the things she chose to wear. "Dragons are pretty fierce. Very protective. They hold onto what's theirs and they're not a force to mess with. A bit like how protective you are over that reputation of yours." Or rather, the stubborn nature behind picking and choosing roles based on sexuality. But she didn't need to go that far.

"Plus I might have read somewhere that you like blue." She added, that grin flicking to a different kind of smile instead. As if she could really read at all.

[Penelope Blaise]

Surprisingly, the explanation given to her was almost eloquent given the source it came from. A softer expression took over the British woman's features briefly. Little did she know, Penny had a fascination with the creatures, even if they were not real in their existence. Tucked away in the corner of her trailer carried a story of elves and dragons bound in a fantasy paperback. The explanation was practically perfect.

And she did like the color blue.

Her chin tilted up, dark eyes focusing back on the reflection of both herself and the artist. She wouldn't be granted direct eye contact. "It sounds as if you're a fan." She replied, leaning back in her chair. It wouldn't have been her first encounter with someone on set that had been wanting to meet her. "What others are you going to put on me?"

[Lucy Serrano]

Lucy grinned at the notion of being a fan. A large part of her wanted to point out how simplistic it would be if she didn't bother learning about the people she worked with. "It's a good colour." She replied instead, playing off the concept of falling into the endless abyss of her growing fandom. Beides, there were more important things to talk about, like where she would go next.

"Not sure yet. We can figure that out together." She replied, tilting her head to the side a fraction like it could give her better insight, "It's not like you have to be covered; I guess they sorta left it up to you."

Shifting her weight a fraction, Lucy brushed her free hand into the shorter line of her hair, like shifting it back to grant better access to the line of her neck. How her thumb brushed against it idly; "You could always have something smaller at your neck, or something. Either primarily hidden by whatever they'll make you wear, or something detailed starting behind your ear."

[Penelope Blaise]

Penny was highly aware she had something of a cult following. She's been asked about it in interviews time and again, but never did she actively choose to speak much on the subject. Though not a first, it seemed strange for the actress to work with someone within it. She wasn't uncomfortable but she was self aware. So when that question was ignored, she took it at face value; it hardly mattered the opinion of a tattoo artist.

What caught her attention was instead the drag of fingertips through her hair. A thumb to the line of her neck, forcing her chin up with little to no force.

"Start behind my ear." She agreed after a few moments. She wondered if that thumb could feel the unwanted shift of her pulse. "It would look best."

[Lucy Serrano]

There might have been small signs put in place, but Lucy hadn't flagged a single one of them. Her focus was somewhat honed to what had been deemed the more important factor here; getting a job done. Doing it right. Making some kind of impression that didn't involve the bed she knew was likely at the back of this trailer.

Clever enough placement of her own hand had allowed her to keep idle strands at bay as her thumb crossed the line, like familiarising herself with the skin of such a canvas was really so necessary. But gears turned in her mind, catching her attention and half blurring her to the motions she had put in place already. She barely registered the way she herself moved when she was tasked to think so freely.

"Can you tie it up for me?" She asked, finally easing her hand away.