Wings

genius

I blinked and shook my head, chasing away the past. “Anyways, I’m guessing you’re here to check on me after the ink session. Before you can start fussing, I’m fine. I have a rather high pain tolerance after living with Josh and these piles of books, and besides, I’m a black belt in judo. That doesn’t come without some bruises.” Kestrel started to say something, but I cut her off. “And yes, I took the anti-infection meds. It isn’t an open wound, so that was completely unnecessary, by the way.” I took a breath, pausing in my rant, and Kestrel took the opening.

“I guessed you would say something like that, and that wasn’t what I was going to say,” she said all in a rush. I blinked. Thad had caught me off guard. “I was going to ask if I could see the final product,” she finished. I sighed, relieved that she wasn’t about to start fussing again. “Sure,” I said. “As long as you don’t dither over me.” I tugged up the back of my t-shirt, exposing the sensitive skin of the tattoo. Kestrel ran her fingers over it gently, touching the new symbol that Terra had added. “This is different. Did the artist suggest it?” I nodded. “Yeah, I think she did a good job choosing a symbol. That, or she has an encyclopedic knowledge of Tibetan culture.”

Kestrel’s eyes widened. “You know what that is?” she asked, apparently impressed. “I don’t know what it means, but the main types of symbols I’ve seen are Celtic/Gaelic, Asian, or African, and it’s clearly an Asian symbol that isn’t Chinese, Japanese, or Korean. It’s reminiscent of some mountain Indian symbols I’ve seen. I would guess Tibetan, Bhutanese, or Nepali. Tibet is known for some monasteries, so I’m going to go with a Tibetan religious symbol.” I may have been a pol sci major in college, but I had taken a few classes that I had actually liked, ancient cultures among them. I knew a thing or two about glyphs.

Kestrel’s jaw dropped, but then she shrugged. “All right, so my girlfriend is apparently a language genius. Why am I still surprised?” I laughed. “Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, but I was in the middle of a sketch. Do you mind if I finish it on my own, without creative input from the peanut gallery?” It was a running joke between us that Kestrel couldn’t draw or paint without some serious photoshopping on the final product. She kicked my ass in the music department, though- that girl could remix and make new tracks better than anyone else I could think of, and Josh knew it. He fully approved of her almost living in the building.

Kestrel started to whine but gave up when I looked at her sternly. “It’s no use arguing with you when you get like this, is it,” she deadpanned. I shook my head cheerily. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though?” I suggested. “That pub down the street, and coffee afterwards is on me.” She smiled, brightening instantly. She nodded her approval, then gave me a quick kiss and waved goodnight. “I’ll call you when I’m conscious, okay?” I called after her. “That caffeine soup should keep me up for a while.” Perks of being an independent artist- I could open up shop and deal with people whenever I felt like it.

I sat back down at the drafting table, and tried to work on what I had started to call the Angel, but the inspiration just wouldn’t come to me. Call it artist’s block. I gave up on the Angel and flopped onto the couch, picking up a book and my headphones. They were the best ones I could find, with an amazing bass beat and sound isolation in addition to noise cancelling. Kestrel had picked them out for me as a Christmas present, and I was still looking for something to pay her back. I hit “play” on a set of my favorite dubstep tracks, made by Josh and Kestrel. Leaning back, I cracked open Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, a book that was, in my humble opinion, the best book ever written. The caffeine crash must have hit me hard, because within three tracks, I was asleep on the couch.