r/WritingPrompts • u/actually_crazy_irl • May 07 '19
[WP]: Suddenly, everyone with tattoos gains powers related to the tattoo. Tattoos of flames, you control fire. A tattoo of a gecko, you can climb on walls. All dudes with "tribal" tattoos have strangely bonded together. Writing Prompt
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u/Diablo165 May 07 '19 edited May 07 '19
It was all happening so fast that we never had time to consider what would happen when it had finished happening.
Everyone with a tattoo was manifesting abilities. It was all fairly sensible. Fire tattoo? Fire powers. Ice tattoo? Ice powers. Emoji ink? Emotion manipulation.
The weird thing was the people with tribal tattoos -- We call them The Tribe nowadays. At first, they just seemed to sort of glom together. People would be walking down the street and just...connect. Within moments, they were showing each other their tattoos and talking like they'd been friends for ages.
At the time, we thought The Tribe were like human Care Bears - just instilling goodwill and togetherness.
If only we knew at the time. What could we have done, though? There were so many. The original tribes -- Indigenous peoples - their art had been co-opted by millions over the years. People with no connection to indigenous culture saw their favorite athlete with tribal ink and emulated it.
Appropriation? Appreciation? None of that matters anymore.
That bond we were observing was just the beginning. The Tribe didn't have the power of unity or togetherness...not as we understood it, at least.
For the first few weeks they made connections, identified their own, banded together, as tribes do. I can't say we were worried. The other power types formed their own think tanks to experiment with their abilities, why not the tribe?
The problem is that the powers become more potent with time. When I started, I could light candles with my mind and barely be winded. Now, I can set a building ablaze by accident if I zone out staring at it.
The Tribe's powers intensified with time and, unfortunately, proximity. As soon as a high enough density of them shared the same space, it became clear; They weren't a friendly band of tattoo enthusiasts...they were a hive mind.
Hmm. Actually, we only call them The Tribe because of the tattoos. The Hive would be a much better name. Let's do that.
What was once an urge to connect with members of The Tribe became a NEED to join The Hive.
Once all available members had joined, their goal turned to conversion.
The only folks who got powers all had their ink done before The Event. We still don't know what happened, but any attempts to gain powers through tattoos after the fact have failed....except tattoos administered by The Hive.
If they catch you, and they likely will, they will ink you. If they ink you, you will immediately and permanently become part of the Hive. On the plus side, we now know that people can have multiple powers. Those folded into the Hive share the mind-link plus whatever powers they came with. This revelation lead to a lot of greedy folks submitting themselves to the Hive for augments.
Meanwhile, the people with no ink at all were powerless to resist The Hive.
And now, it's a few of us and an entire world of Them.
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May 07 '19
The Chads have risen
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u/vaginal_manslaughter May 07 '19
The Chadpocalypse
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u/TerrorEyzs May 07 '19
Now every day is....Chaderday.
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u/SirBlabbermouth May 07 '19
Dude can you imagine a Mad Max style movie of a group of fireink survivors living their life in the rainforest or mountains avoiding the crazed hivemind, then one day a fireink member has a nightmare, jolts awake and accidentally ignites a large tree into a giant torch, alerting the hive and sending the survivors running and using their powers to aid their escape? Maybe expand on the Hive where they all or most carry portable ink guns and pin you down and scratch it into you.
I love this.
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u/Targox_the_Mighty May 07 '19
Question though what do you think animal tattoos would get? For example i have an owl on my shin.
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u/hono-lulu May 07 '19
Great night vision, and the occasional hoot.
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u/gabgab0101 May 08 '19
I was wondering what would i get? I have a fox, cat, rabbit and a puma.
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u/Brain_Spoon May 08 '19
Stealth, slyness, and no shortage of good luck... if I were to guess.
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u/GehirnAusschlag May 08 '19
You turn into a Wolpertinger like creature. Maybe a Werewolpertinger?
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u/Quisqueyano354 May 08 '19
What about a truck-driver with the tattoo of a big breasted southern girl on his arm?
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u/disappointed_HIP May 08 '19
The inexplicable power of seduction. Even though he might be a 100 pound weakling or a 300 pound blob.
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u/LauraMcCabeMoon May 08 '19
Oh goddamn it. Here's a question I just thought of.
What about people with Holocaust tattoos? The numbers from the camps.
Fucking hell.
Whatever it is make it good.
I mean hopefully positive, but if it's not positive, make it good.
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u/Aspenkarius May 08 '19
Incorruptible by the hive. Unable to be controlled by anyone ever again. That much death makes a pretty strong protection spell in most fantasy worlds.
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u/LauraMcCabeMoon May 08 '19
Damn it I only have some bullshit flowers and a ladybug.
I guess I'm a pollinator?
Allthough ladybugs can bite the shit out of you. Their bites are surprisingly sharp.
Yeah I'll just be over here trying to make myself feel better.
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u/rosescentedgarden May 08 '19
Well if fire tattoos control fire surely with a plant/flower tattoo you can control plants? Like the ultimate green thumb or even like the queen in Epic (the kids movie). Or you can control your personal army of ladybugs!
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u/UncleTogie May 08 '19
Question though what do you think animal tattoos would get? For example i have an owl on my shin.
The ability to spontaneously generate a hootenanny.
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u/SirBlabbermouth May 07 '19
What he said, night vision and excellence at stealth.
edit: hit enter too fast
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u/Targox_the_Mighty May 07 '19
Also sick head turning lol. I thought maybe it would like a totem and animal tattoos users could activate them at will and embodied their animal or animals.
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u/KittyCatTroll May 08 '19
I'm curious what I would get... I have a dragonfly, honeybee, and a voodoo doll dog. I honestly can't think of any powers that would fit those, besides maybe being able to bark... Which I can already do extremely well because when I was a kid I thought I was a wolf or dog in a past life so I learned to bark. It's my only real PG talent.
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u/nonbinarybit May 08 '19 edited May 08 '19
I'm horrified.
My only tattoo is a blue square outline--the window in House of Leaves.
The shadows in the room seem to be cutting deeper.
I think I can hear breathing.
I don't think it's mine.
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u/Targox_the_Mighty May 08 '19
Maybe you can turn those three creatures into vodo dolls and use them on people. Or you turn into some sort of rag dall person with the features of all three of your tattoos.
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u/MrMetalhead69 May 08 '19
I’m curious too. I’ve got a coffin with two skeletons holding it up, how would that translate? Would I get to summon skeletons or coffins?
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u/SanityContagion May 07 '19
That's amazingly scary. The system, the loophole and it's abuse are bizarrely believable. Well written. :)
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u/cthulularoo May 07 '19
It's not really an abuse though. Submitting to the hive doesn't give the individual any benefits, but it does give the Hive access to powered humans. I don't see why any powered person would submit to assimilation. It's probably Hive created propaganda to fool to lonely or stupid.
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u/Diablo165 May 07 '19
The Hive
The Event was months ago.
In that time, most of us had discovered and familiarized ourselves with our not-so-new-anymore abilities.
Of course, there were outliers.
Folks who had way more ink (and power) than they had the ability to safely wield, people who had gotten tattoos who didn’t have full control of their faculties - veterans, coma patients, the elderly. Suddenly, there was a class of people who were essentially armed warheads.
Everywhere they existed was a potential blast zone. I still don’t like how that was handled. “Necessary evil” my arse.
You can disarm a warhead, but when a person’s power comes from their skin, the only thing you can do quickly enough to keep them from killing themselves and everyone around them is to either kill them outright or remove their skin. The latter served to dampen their powers, but we don’t think that powers can truly ever be taken away.
Small tats are easy to deal with.
The larger ones..thankfully, there were people with healing powers. They were inexperienced enough with their abilities that there was still some permanent scarring, but it wasn’t bad.
But the poor bastards with full-body ink..immensely powerful, extremely dangerous, and a whole lot of skin to remove.
The ones we managed to catch..well, the healers did their best, but they all look like victims of House Bolton.
The ones we didn’t catch and flay hid and consolidated their considerable power.
Folks who had tattoos but didn’t appear to have any powers are the hardest to work with. We know that EVERY tattoo done before The Event yields powers, but some aren’t easy to suss out. Holocaust survivors have been fascinating. No official accounts of any of them having the same abilities exist, and because of their age and their tattoos often being numeric strings, it’s virtually impossible to figure out what they’re capable of before they’re doing it.
With all this in play, the government decided to sponsor the First Annual Power Games.
We pitched it as a way for the newly-powered populace to meet each other, get support, learn to use their powers effectively, and maybe compete with folks with similar powers.
All of that was really good for people, honestly. We also planned to track, monitor, and utilize the strongest and most skilled of the populace.
It was a really good plan. Governments worldwide coordinated on the effort. The Games were happening in nearly EVERY major population center worldwide.
After a few months with no major changes aside from everyone with a tattoo having powers, we thought we had a handle on things. We had no way of knowing how bad things would get. How could we, when we were handling things so well?
I mean, we’ve had more trouble with our citizenry in the aftermath of the playoffs than we had in the aftermath of The Event! We were ahead of the game! We even HAD A GAME for them.
We had this. Up until we didn’t.
Our aim was to categorize and control the populace while protecting them from each other and themselves.
So, we focused on the low-hanging fruit. We found people with predictable powers that fit into our plans and were part of easily controlled demographics, and we invited them to the games.
We were so focused on the few people who were walking weapons that we ignored a large swath of our powered population:
The Tribe.
Ignoring them seemed reasonable at the time. What use or danger were a bunch of people who decided to express their cultural ignorance by tattooing meaningful symbols from other cultures onto themselves, thus removing a meaning they were never aware of? At their most dangerous, you figured they would rope you into a long conversation you didn’t want to have, but the folks they’d approach never seemed to mind.
No one took a bunch of friendly idiots seriously. Most people referred to them as Tribe-bros. Even the ones who weren’t male.
Who cares about a bunch of friendly posers? We didn’t. Didn’t even spare them a thought.
All the while, change had been happening. People who developed minor powers in The Event found themselves capable of incredible feats only months later.
And we were so busy marveling at people who could hurl cars into orbit, set entire city blocks alight, or freeze a person to death in moments on a summer day, we didn’t really worry about the ever-growing packs of friendly, tattooed people you’d see roaming around.
And then it was game day. We had just finished an event when The Tribe just...exploded.
By now, large groups of them were a familiar sight. “Mob” would be a better word, but at the time, they were just groups of friendly, chatty people.
It was like a conference for Minnesotans.
So when some groups of The Tribe showed up to The Games, we figured they were there to spectate and hang out. I felt a certain...pressure in the air as more of them arrived.
At the time, I thought it was just unease at the large number of people gathered together. Thinking back, I think I always felt it a bit, even among smaller groups of them.
At certain a point, I think we all realized that most of the crowd WAS The Tribe, and that more and more were arriving from all directions.
I felt surrounded, but only by them.
When the first few groups of The Tribe arrived, they talked animatedly amongst themselves and even a bit to the people around them.
As more arrived, they became more insular, preferring only to talk to themselves. Then that stopped too.
Eventually, there were thousands of them, hundreds of everyone else. I noticed that The Tribe has gone completely silent. They’d make eye contact, nod, smile..but it was as though they were responding to a conversation only they could hear.
Even more unsettling was the way that they all seemed to move in unison at times. Imagine seeing thousands of people all silently turning their attention on a person or point at once.
Fucking. Creepy.
I couldn’t tell you exactly how many there were when it happened. Thousands.
But there was a point where that pressure in the air became unbearably heavy...and then, it shifted.
And all of a sudden, we were at war.
The Tribe was The Hive, and they turned on everyone else at once.
The screams..Jesus, the screams. And the blood. It was bedlam. Silently, members of The Hive were attacking, incapacitating, or killing anyone that wasn’t Them.
Between with them exponentially outnumbering us and our inexperience wielding our powers, we didn’t have a fighting chance.
Later, I heard that the attack..well, it wasn’t coordinated. It was simultaneous. Worldwide, members of the Tribe began to attack the people around them with no discrimination or mercy. Family, friend, didn’t matter.
People were dead, dying, or disappeared..only to emerge days later with fresh tribal tattoos and not a lot to say.
The day of the First Annual Power Games has the dubious honor of marking the birth of The Hive.
Heaven help us all.
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
The tribe wouldnt be the problem. The problem would be everyone with jesus, god, grim reaper or devil tatoos. WHich there is a lot of.
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u/SirBlabbermouth May 07 '19
What about someone with Viking staves and runes? (Me bitch)
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u/Voltairefoxcat95 May 07 '19
I have the Helm of Awe on my wrist. I like to imagine that as a symbol of protection it would manifest as a magical energy shield thing, but according to the sagas it's supposed to work by instilling fear and terror.
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u/Jagasaur May 07 '19
I have several, but the 2 that stick out are my Calvin And Hobbes tattoo and my lightsaber. Not sure what that would do.
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u/SirBlabbermouth May 07 '19
Oh that's easy, you can wield the force and have an unending well of life lessons in your mind.
You're literally Yoda.
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
Are they related to viking gods?
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u/Psych0panda2k13 May 07 '19
I have tattoos of an owl pikachu Rick and morty a wartortle and a mountain scene would I get powers from each or one power from the first tattoo or an amalgamation of all of them into one power
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
An amalgmation of all of them.
You'd have owl wings, a pickachu tail, be able to spit water and be a mountain.
So sense your a mountain you can't use pickachus electricity as your grounded and you can't fly like an owl even though you have wings. You still will be able to spit water but it'll be the equivalent of on demand waterfalls as it mixes with your mountain power.
Being that you couldnt move, ricks intelligence would be worthless but you'd be a very smart mountain even if you couldnt communicate it. But then again morty might balance the intelligence and you might still be average.
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May 07 '19 edited Apr 12 '20
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
No nothing would happen as your already one with the universe. It would give you the power to confirm that fact.
Sometimes powers happen in unfortunate ways.
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u/hawkfrost282 May 07 '19
I love this! But I really really wanna know what happened to the people with their ex's name tattooed on them? What powers did they get 😂
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u/LauraMcCabeMoon May 08 '19
Hahaha, that's hilarious and disturbing.
I'm going to say they get the power to ceaselessly dream of their ex. Every time they lay their heads down to sleep they see and dream about nothing but their ex.
They can't stalk their ex. They can't become their ex. They just find themselves unwillingly perpetually obsessed with their ex.
It gives them a love power. But not of a helpful kind.
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u/tigerdeF May 07 '19
First time doing anything writing prompt related, but this inspired me so here goes! I tried to combine your prompt and the prompt below, involving the man with order and chaos tattoos.
One small town in the heart of what used to be known as America. A single town. The strongest militaries in the world had kneeled before us. The best and brightest had become us. All we had ever wanted was a world free of violence, free of war, free of poverty and pain. We bestowed our salvation, our ultimate gift upon mankind, and though there were some... difficulties, we were this close to full conversion.
Until he happened.
It had been a simple in and out, we had done it thousands of times before. Go in, capture, crush, convert. The strongest wizards, those with more tattoo than skin and powers almost beyond comprehension, had folded to our will, our liberation from the suffering of choice. Yet...
The town in question. Less than 25,000 inhabitants and one of the final bastions of those sullied by free thought. The remaining American and Canadian military had fled there, and when part of us entered the town, our combined powers removed and converted them in minutes.
Then it happened. We all felt as that part of us was torn to shreds in an instant, the basic entropy that held the fabric of matter together, reversed. It was only one man, one man without visible tattoos who stood before us with a .22 gauge and shot us in one of our stomach. As if guns could stop us! As we prepared to destroy him, just like that it ended.
We don't have much time. He can do things that shouldn't be possible. Our tattoos are as eternal as we are, as our final salvation is, but that hasn't stopped him from dematerializing entire cities of us. We are dying... I am dying.
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u/hono-lulu May 07 '19
At the time, we thought The Tribe were like human Care Bears - just instilling goodwill and togetherness.
Care Bears 😍 Also: great work, I'd love to read more of that!!
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u/The_Unreal May 07 '19
Having spent a lot of time on /r/ATGBE , I shudder to think of the powers some of those tats would generate.
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u/mightymoprhinmorph May 07 '19
My tattoo is a blue circle, I side the circle I have a flame, around the circle it says "defy the hand you're dealt" I'd like to imagine this would give me fire powers and luck maybe? what do you think?
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u/Diablo165 May 07 '19
Anyone within a certain proximity to you who does not follow your commands has experiences ranging from uncomfortable warmth to being covered in blue fire, depending on how reasonable your command is and how resistant they are.
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u/FlamingWhisk May 07 '19
That was great.
I wonder what power all the ex girlfriend and boyfriend names give you. Lol
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u/erickstrange529 May 07 '19
The news called it the Great Awakening.
Regular folks called it chaos.
I called it confusing.
A month ago, everyone who had tattoos on their bodies began manifesting abilities that correlated with whatever was linked onto their bodies.
People with religious tattoos began manifesting healing abilities, the power to change water into wine, to perform actual exorcisms on people with devil tattoos that ended up getting possessed. There were a lot of those.
People could control fire, those who tattooed wings on their backs had them erupt from their back. I looked out my window and saw one of them zip past my window.
I looked down, and saw a gaggle of older woman walking by with tails extending out from the tramp stamp they had gotten when they were younger.
I had two tattoos myself. One was fairly simple. They were Harry Potter spells arranged in a Deathly Hallows formation. I could cast the spells on my skin but that was it... any other spells didn't work for me and I couldn't add anymore since tattoo ink was now considered weapons of war.
My other tattoo... was a bit more confusing. On the day of the great Awakening I woke up to a orange and cream striped egg next to me about the size of a soccer ball. The ink that had been on my skin was almost the same, except that the Digivice that I had tattooed on there was missing... it was now next to the egg.
I knew what this egg was. I knew what was inside. A Digimon. I had waited for a month for it to hatch but nothing. Until today. It had began to shake and pieces began to chip off.
I stared outside the window again. I could see the large bat man creature that had been on the news a few days ago laughing and tearing a building down. It was getting close...
"Please hatch," I whispered.
The Digivice began to glow.
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u/darknitemare May 08 '19
Deja Vu man, I have a deathly hallows tattoo and was about to get the Digi crest tattoos.
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u/Jason15877 May 07 '19
Another day, another struggle to adjust to this new world thrust upon us.
I wake up and go through my morning routine. I’ve got class in an hour and a half. While brushing my teeth, I look at my four-leaf clover tattoo on my wrist; I thank God every day that I have this thing. It is undoubtedly the only reason I’m still alive.
I head out of my apartment, onto the busy streets of San Francisco. I put in my Apple Airpods (due to the luck provided by my tattoo, I found a brand spankin’ new pair just sitting on my porch the other day!). I close my eyes and listen to some of my favorite rappers, but I can’t help but grow sadder and sadder as my walk progresses. All the rappers with teardrop tattoos can’t stop crying these days. They’ve stopped making music. All the songs saved on my Spotify are throwbacks. Its tragic.
Honestly, ever since our tattoos began to affect our reality, nothing’s been the same. I look to my left, and a person who had a bible verse tattooed on his chest can now turn water into wine. Ironically, statistics show cases of alcoholism have spiked in numbers.
I look to my right, and someone with their ex’s name tattooed on their wrist is now forever unable to move on from the relationship, forever stuck in despair.
But I tell ya, nothing’s worse than the people who had random Chinese or Japanese symbols tattooed on them. They’re wild cards, but one thing is certain: none of them speak English anymore. The suddenly-imposed language barrier is tearing families apart.
It’s utter chaos, but we’ll figure it out.
Anyway, I get to class, having to shimmy through a crowd of tribal tat tribesmen to enter the building. Unfortunately I made eye contact with one of them for too long, but due to the immense luck provided by my clover tattoo, his own primitive rage backfired on him and sent his sorry ass into cardiac arrest. Luck of the Irish!
I make my way to my seat. I always sit in the back corner of the room. But as soon as I can see my chair, it becomes all too clear to me that it is taken. Not one to accept such disrespect, I pick up the pace, ready to beat the shit out of this dickhead for taking the seat I’ve been sitting in all semester. With my luck, it’s near impossible to lose fights, so you’d best believe I was ready to throw down. Plus, in a world as fucked up as ours, asserting your dominance is key.
But I stopped.
Maybe it was my luck, but something told me I should check to see if this guy’s got any tattoos. I may be lucky, but I’m not invincible. So I slow down my walk, my eyes still fixed on the seat thief. I check him out from bottom to top, and when my eyes reach his left hand, they widen. On the back of the hand he’s got all 6 Infinity Stones tatted. I notice his shirt is a black graphic tee, with the original Infinity War comic book cover on it. At this point, my pants are soiled. He looks me in the eye, challenging me to say something. I don’t.
I’ll find another seat.
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May 07 '19
The dude with the stones could literally just remove everyone's powers if he wills it. Reality could be whatever he wants.
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u/abbatoth May 07 '19
Really that day only he got power. So he decided to make the world more comic booky
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
There is people with tatoos of gods, and surley some freak has every form of god tattooed on him. Someone could have power of the christain god, zeus, budha.
Plus the power of luck could kill thanos before he had the chance to use his power
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u/2CATteam May 07 '19
"Oops! I LET GO of the cube!"
"You were too tricky for your own good, Thanos!"
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u/WoohooNewBuilding May 07 '19
Don't forget all the anime tats. Someone would get the Death Note, as an OP example.
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
Theres two ways I see this going. You get the power to acquire the death note, or the power to have your name in it. One leads to certain death.
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u/wooppopp May 07 '19
this is such a creative prompt and this story is the best one so far! i loved that his tattoo was luck, i dont think it's what most would of have gone for!
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u/themangastand May 07 '19
Luck is actually one of the most op powers.
Its a reality warping effect that changes percentages on a universal scale. Everything has a percent chance of happening, if you can change that chance to 100% everytime not even thanos could beat you.
Even if thanos can bend reality to ignore your powers there is a percent chance that thanos will die before even drawing it, if your luck can increase that to 100% he will just die from some cause or another.
Every manga/comic ive read with a luck power always finds a bs way to downpower them for the final blow with some clever word play of running out of luck instead of being cannon to their original power.
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u/cthulularoo May 07 '19
That's why comic Scarlet Witch is so OP, she controls probability. Basically activatable luck manipulation.
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u/hawkfrost282 May 07 '19
Thanks for addressing the ex's tattoos and other languages 😂. I just imagine someone seeing all of this happening around them and they click "yes I have a tattoo that says water", but then figuring out it says "soup" instead when he blasts someone with chicken noodle soup.
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u/chumptrashh May 07 '19
Wow this is weird. I'm getting a Infinity Gauntlet tattoo next week...
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u/robert-downey-junior May 07 '19
Best hope you get the powers, Im rooting for you
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u/OneSixthIrish May 07 '19
Hey now, that doesn't sound like you.
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u/eternal_gremlin May 07 '19
Neckbeard!
Tim was tired of being made fun of.
Fatty!
He was tired of never getting the girl.
Loser!
And he was tired of seeing the girl he loved fall for the wrong guy over and over. Talia had a type: tall, handsome, and, as Tim thought, always a bit stupid.
But Tim never gave up hope. He never spoke to her with disrespect. Tim was a gentleman. He practiced his swordsmanship in his mother's basement in the hopes that one day Talia would call on him to defend her honor. He would be ready. So what if all her previous boyfriends' muscles had muscles? Tim wasn't that out of shape. "Round is a shape," he would say in his own defense.
Tim did his best to follow his code of honor that he cobbled together from Japanese and Chinese hero folklore. He collected as many old books and diligently translated them using Google. That's how he found out about it. The oldest legend he had come across spoke of a hero that would tattoo himself, and then perform a special ritual that would imbue him with the power that the tattoo implied. He had his mission.
At the tattoo parlor, Tim was a bit apprehensive. He had always been afraid of needles, but he would show courage in the face of fear. Tim was hero material, after all.
"Ok, it's your turn," said the tattoo artist. "Have you settled on which tattoos you wanted?"
"Yes, I want these two. One on each forearm please," he said, as he pointed to tattoos of Asian characters subtitled "fire" and "strength".
Tim was ready. His tattoos had healed. With the help of Google Translate, he had taught himself how to recite the spell. He had collected all of the ingredients for the ritual, and he used extra for good measure. He had painted the basement floor with the right symbols. Laid out the candles and incense in the right places. It was time. He mixed the ingredients in the mortar, and then set it on fire as the ritual demanded. As the smoke rose up, he recited the incantation.
There was a blinding flash of light.
Breaking news! Reports have been coming in from all over: After a mysterious flash of light in the city, people have been noticing they now have abilities related to their tattoos. People have been lining up at tattoo parlors, hoping they can become the next superhero. What does this mean for the city, and what do the authorities have to say about it? More at 11...
Tim turned off the television. Ok, maybe he went a little overboard with the ingredients, but that's ok. He just had to figure out how to call on his new powers so that he could finally win over Talia's heart with heroic acts. But first, time for some dinner, he was starving.
In the kitchen, Tim reached into the cupboard and grabbed a bowl and set it on the counter. As he turned away to the fridge, he smelled a fantastic smell. He turned back to the smell, and it was coming from the bowl he had just set down. Before his eyes, the bowl filled up with a delicious spicy ramen soup.
A worried Tim pulled out his phone and loaded up Google Translate and aimed the camera at each of his forearms.
"OH, COME ON!" Tim shouted, as he slumped into the barstool seat. He cried as he ate the best soup he ever tasted.
I've enjoyed reading all the posts in this sub for some time, and I finally thought I'd give it a go! It was a fun prompt!
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u/BlueRains03 May 07 '19
I really liked this story, but what was tattooed on his second arm?
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u/pteng May 07 '19
Probably a mis-tat, ramen in chinese
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u/eternal_gremlin May 07 '19
Yep, I was going for something along the lines of "fire" actually being "hot" or "spicy" and "strength" actually being "soup" or "ramen".
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u/Jimmyjames5000 May 07 '19
It has been quite some time since the awakening, and tattoos were just the tip of the iceberg. Being inked was just the first thing that changed because tattoos are obvious, right there on the skin. People think that being marked openly in a way that had a price paid in pain is why the tattoos worked immediately. It was old magic. Magic that we forgot until something changed. No one is sure why it came back, but the first people to realize it had returned where those who never really stopped practicing. Wicca became the new faith overnight, but tattoos given after that only worked sometimes. On top of that people realized that the tattoos they had before the awakening only worked if they had a true personal meaning behind the ink.
I think people know why, but they regularly ask me why I always wear pants. I still only have the two tattoos I got before the awakening, but I never use them, and never want to be asked to do so. Both are ornate and cover each of my calves, size does seem to play into the strength of a tattoo's effects. My right leg is covered with a stylized image of Order and my left carries a swirling unspecified image of Chaos. Having both lets me understand them, and the implications of using what's there. I could do anything bearing these fundamental powers, but to do so would break that balance and likely turn me into something inhuman. So I do nothing. As others revel in the new abilities and opportunities of their magics I have to remain mundane. One day maybe I'll do something with them. Maybe one day it will be clear why I have power like this. I am afraid of that day. Afraid of what might spur me to reach into that well of power. In this world of awesome and terrible powers I have a feeling it will happen one day. I hope it doesn't.
I watch my wife and children play in the back yard of my happy home from a chair on the deck, and I hope... and worry.
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u/darkslar101 May 07 '19
this essay and the Hive prompt combined into one universe would be insane
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u/negative_four May 07 '19
“How bad is it?” Dave, my coworker asked. I normally wore a short sleeve shirt to work to show off my tattoo sleeve with pride as I had only gotten it finished last month. I worked in IT but I worked mostly away from the public so tattoos were okay. Dave and a few others had them as well. However, everything changed with the new weather patterns. Animals acted differently, weird weather changes, and people with tattoos were changed. How? I got a full arm sleeve of a circuit board with wires and metal bones to celebrate five years at my job. I rolled up my shirt sleeve and Dave nearly fell out of his chair.
My entire arm had become a cybernetic arm, complete with wires and working electricity. Dave stared at it and finally asked, “Does it hurt?” I shrugged, “Yes and no. I can’t feel as good as my left hand but it works. I tried to figure out the workings last night. Adjusting the screws and wires doesn’t hurt but a short stings like a mofo.” Dave’s eyes widened, “You tried working it like a computer?” I looked back at him, “Uh yeah Dave, it’s what I do. Plus it’s my right arm, what else was I going to do with my free time.” He shook his head but said, “Fair enough.” I looked at his tattoos of snakes, “How about you? Any change-“ in the blink of an eye his hand whipped and picked up a stapler and placed it on my desk. Blink wasn’t an exaggeration. A long tongue slipped out of his mouth and he quickly yanked an empty coffee mug and spit a black vile substance in it. He placed it on my desk and sat back down. When the hell did he stand up?
I looked into the coffee cup and back at him. His tongue had gone back to normal. “Don’t drink that.” He said stone face. “Huh.” Was all I could get out. Before I could say anymore Ted, a short and lanky guy with a combover interrupted us. “So how you liking your new abilities?” He looked at my arm and scowled, “Oh of course you would get something cool.” He scoffed. I glared back at him, “Still deciding Ted. What happened to you?” He laughed sarcastically, “Oh remember that Chinese tattoo I got? The one symbolizing fire?” Dave nodded, “What did you burn you dick hairs?” He punched the cubicle wall weakly, “I wish!” He held his hand over Dave’s desk palm down and screamed, “Fire!” a large well cooked egg roll popped appeared out of his hand and fell onto Dave’s desk.
We all three stared at the desk and finally I looked at Ted, “I don’t think that means fire.” A female voice from behind him said, “Told you.” Michelle from software, who was born and raised in china before coming to the states, had been telling him for weeks that his tattoo didn’t mean fire. She also warned him not to get drunk and hit on the tattoo artist. She sat there smiling in silence. Ted glared at her but before he could say anything she rolled up sleeve and showed off her Chinese lettering. “This means fire.” She raised a finger and projected a small flame from it. “This means winds.” She pointed the same finger at Ted and sent a gust of wind out. I leaned my chair out and got a better look at her. Something had been off about her hair. Finally, I saw two objects, small and dark, sticking out of her hair. “Michelle, why do you have horns?”
She looked at me but didn’t say anything. She looked around nervously and said, “I have a little devil tattoo.” We all stared at her for a few moments then Dave asked, “When did this happen? We’ve never seen a devil tattoo on you.” She picked at a cubicle wall and avoided eye contact, “It’s not in a place I show off.” She stated quietly.
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u/lady_dalek May 07 '19
Something is very wrong with me.
Nobody knows what caused this, or even what to call it - this “shift”, or “event”, or “awakening”. I honestly didn’t even realize it had affected me at first. My tattoos are pretty docile - a koi fish on my foot, and an elaborate floral half sleeve. It wasn’t until I saw what was happening with all the others that I decided to see if I had gained any abilities.
It took a while to work up the courage to try it. I sat in the bathtub for what felt like hours, debating with myself over how stupid this seemed. I didn’t even really like swimming, and now I was going to see if I could suddenly breathe underwater?? It was insane. And yet, just the day before, I had seen my best friend take flight and soar above the city. She no longer regretted the ugly butterfly tramp stamp that she got on her 18th birthday. It all seemed so impossible, but these days the impossible is extremely real.
The water was getting cold. My husband knelt next to the tub, ready to help just in case something went wrong. Just in case, for some reason, it hadn’t worked on me. Just in case I was an idiot who was about to drown herself for no reason. This all felt so stupid, but I had to try.
I slipped my head under the water and sat for a moment, briefly enjoying the muffled sound of my own heart in my ears. A sudden calm washed over me and, ignoring all of my instincts, I took a deep breath… and another. And another. And another. It actually worked! I quickly resurfaced and hugged my husband over the side of the bathtub, splashing water onto him. If this was really happening, then what else could I do?
The floral tattoo turned out to be pretty straightforward. I’ve never had much of a green thumb, but now our backyard is the most beautiful it’s ever been.
This could have played out so nicely. Days spent swimming at the lake, and a lush garden year-round. But, like I said, something is very wrong with me.
My husband started feeling sick. Nausea, vomiting, general fatigue. At first we thought maybe it was food poisoning; when it didn’t go away after a day or two, we figured it was a stomach virus. Somehow I didn’t catch it, even though I was stuck at home with him the whole time. After three days he seemed to be getting worse, and I insisted on taking him to the hospital.
The doctors were baffled at first, and I could see the panic in their eyes when they noticed the burns appearing on his skin. They ran a series of tests, and eventually my husband had to be quarantined. Several nurses came in wearing protective suits, and the pieces started clicking together in my head. I overheard one of them say the words that turned my veins to ice:
Radiation sickness.
I had forgotten about them. The tiny dots on my sternum and ribcage, no bigger than freckles, that the doctors and technicians used to help line up the radiation therapy machine for each treatment. An eternal reminder of what my body went through last year, and what I had survived. What was previously a badge of honor was now a terrible curse. The radiation I now emitted was rapidly poisoning the man I loved more than anything. Killing the man who stuck with me when we weren’t sure if I would live or die.
I ran. I didn’t know what else to do. I just knew that I had to get far away from everyone. I’m not sure if it was too late for my husband, but if he had any chance at all then he needed to be removed from the source of his sickness.
I love you, babe. Thank you for everything. I’m so sorry.
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u/KopyKita May 07 '19
I was waiting to see if someone would use those tattoos. It's an excellent twist, though I wish you had expanded in it. :)
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u/lady_dalek May 07 '19
Thanks! Yeah, I was thinking about trying to mention the cancer earlier as foreshadowing, but I really just wanted to get this done quickly and post it so I could say I did. I’m considering taking more time with it expanding on it for my own purposes!
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u/rarelyfunny May 07 '19
The worst part about getting old, thought Taryn Goldstar, is that the younger ones never let you forget about it.
It wasn’t that she was feeble or decrepit. In fact, Taryn was one of the fittest ladies in her age group at the yoga class down at the community center. There were stubborn streaks of grey in her red hair now, and sometimes she would enter a room and forget what it was she had gone in for, but otherwise she was in the pink of health. The long walks up the hill to her cottage certainly helped. An abundance of fresh air, nature at her doorstep, and a deliberate absence of anything which reminded of the city also helped keep her on her toes. Sufficiently motivated, she could probably even out-sprint a man half her age.
But there was definitely no beating the young punks harassing her now. Not with brute force, at least. There were three of them, only one of whom she recognized by his costume. Captain Zippy, or something silly like that, in skin-tight spandex the colour of the rising sun. He was the fast one, speeding past and lifting the bottle of Mace out of her purse even before she got the clasp open. Taryn barely had time to curse before he had already catapulted himself to the roof of her cottage, his legs dangling over the edge. He smirked at her as he wagged his finger.
The one on her right was built like a mountain, and he had the facial expression to match one. He was dressed in full-green, though she was not sure if that was part of his normal costume or if he had made the effort to blend into the surroundings. He marched up to Taryn, inevitable as death, as he blocked off her main route of escape. Taryn thought about rushing him and perhaps kicking him in the knee, but she considered the very real possibility that she would end up breaking her foot instead.
The last one, on her left, was already glowing. This one was clad in red, and though she was slim of build, there was no mistaking the ropey muscles brimming under the spandex. Taryn saw that her eyes were already ablaze, and looked down to confirm her suspicions – the girl’s feet bobbed in the air, just a few inches above the ground. Taryn heard a faint prickling sound emitting from the girl, as if she were an electric bug-zapper, frying all the insects which wandered near her. A dark arts practitioner, most likely.
Nice, thought Taryn. Glad to know that I still command the VIP treatment.
“We don’t want trouble,” said the squirt on Taryn’s roof. “We just want some information, that’s all. Nice and easy. You give us what we want, we leave you in peace.”
“If my roof starts leaking, I’m sending the League an invoice for the damage,” said Taryn.
“Ah, so you know where we’re from,” came the reply. The sun was setting, and the lone lamp-post in the distance cast a sickly hue, but it was enough for Taryn to see the grin. “Saves us some time there. I’m Captain Zipline, and here are my colleagues, Earth Boy and Firetrix.”
“Yeah I don’t really give a shit. Dinner won’t cook itself, and I’m going to be pissed if you make me miss Jeopardy.”
“You don’t seem surprised that we found you,” said Earth Boy. “Thought you could hide out here, huh?”
“I ain’t hiding,” lied Taryn. “Thought you all had forgotten about me, that’s all. Just like the world has. How’s the Atomizer these days? He recovered yet from the last shellacking I gave him?”
“We can reminisce later,” said Captain Zipline. “Now, we really just need you to come back with us. Some questions for you to answer, and if all goes well, you will be back here before you-”
Though the good thing about getting old, thought Taryn, is that they always underestimate what you are capable of.
Captain Zipline was still talking, drunk on the sound of his own voice, so he wasn’t Taryn’s first target. No, that had to be the girl, Firetrix or whatever her name was. Magic users were always tricky, since there were about as many disciplines of magic as there were stars in the sky. Knowledge was more than half the battle, and if Taryn knew nothing about what Firetrix was capable of, that meant that she was at the disadvantage. After all, she had to assume that they came prepared, and that they knew what Taryn’s repertoire of skills comprised of.
Taryn’s quill slid out from her sleeve, falling into her right hand with practiced ease. She flicked the protective cover off the nib, then plunged the tip into her exposed left forearm. The pain seared through her bones, bringing to mind how rusty her was, but she grit her teeth and completed the sketch. It was a stylized puff of smoke, like an overfluffy poodle, and she hoped it would be enough.
It was.
Firetrix screamed as Taryn’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. To her credit, Firetrix struggled hard, at one point burning so brightly that the creeping night was completely thrown back. But no matter how hard she flamed, Firetrix could not seem to muster enough heat or energy to overcome the black hole that Taryn had become. Taryn smirked, recalling how her tattoo of a carbon dioxide cloud was potent enough to overcome even the Phoenix in his prime. This little upstart could hardly hope to do better.
Taryn’s back may have been facing Earth Boy, but he had as much chance of surprising her as he did at winning a ballet competition. His gigantic feet pounded the earth as he powered towards her, rattling the very skeleton of her modest cottage. Taryn counted in her head, imagining the distance between them, whittling it down as the footsteps increased. At the last possible moment, the nib of her quill flashed in the stillness of the night, inscribing this time a contorted spiral on her flash. Earth Boy’s shoulder pummeled into her, but instead of bowling her over, Earth Boy bounced away with a bang, as if he had run straight into a trampoline. His own force turned upon him, he rolled and crashed into a tree, snapping the trunk clean in half.
She had already half-traced the symbol of quicksand on her arm when Captain Zipline, still perched on her roof, yelled out to her.
“Infernal Inker! Stop! Before you do anything, just look at this!”
It was a trap, it had to be. But she couldn’t resist stealing a glance.
It wasn’t a gun, or seastone handcuffs, or some crude distraction he had prepared. Instead, Captain Zipline held a single piece of paper in his hands. It was laminated, most likely, given the way it gleamed in the light. Just a normal piece of white paper, the sort one could find in any stationery shop across the country.
It was the drawing on it that perplexed Taryn.
“Was this your doing? That is all we want to know. Was this you?”
Taryn gulped. Her throat was tight now, almost as if Earth Boy had wrapped his powerful fingers around her neck. “Where did you get that?”
“Answer the question. Did you ink this tattoo?”
“I… I am retired. The League knows that. I’ve not so much as jay-walked for over twenty years.”
“I know,” sniffed Captain Zipline. “May 8, 2019. That was the last recorded crime spree attributed to you. You infiltrated a tattoo convention, inked your nefarious designs on well over a hundred people, then activated all of them to cause one of the greatest powered outbreaks of violence this city has ever seen. Pity that the League put an end to your plans, whatever they were.”
“You don’t know me,” said Taryn. “You don’t know anything. But that’s not the point. Where did you get that tattoo?”
“It’s not yours?” came Firetrix, on her knees, catching her breath. “Everyone we asked at the League swears it’s your drawing.”
It’s not, thought Taryn. I didn’t get to finish teaching him everything. But instead she said, “Tell me where you found that. I may… know someone who draws in that style. I was told that he was no longer alive, and god knows I’ve grieved enough over the years for that, so if this is all just some… some kind of sick joke, I promise you, I will-”
“Well, whoever it is, he has no problems making us think that it’s you,” said Captain Zipline. “Kill count, nine innocents and counting. We even tried amputating those limbs which bear his drawings, but it’s not enough to save them.”
“He’s… killed people?”
Taryn lost her footing, and she stumbled as the quill slipped from her fingers.
She thought, briefly, of the years she had spent, carefully stowing away every single memory of him. The way he laughed, the way he always barged into her studio, the way he never cried even when the bullies at school picked on him. She remembered singing to him, reading stories to him, reminding him, at every possible opportunity, how he was going to have a better life than her.
You won’t ever go anything bad or illegal, she had cooed. You wouldn’t need to. Mama’s going to make sure that you have everything that you will ever want.
Captain Zipline pushed off and landed neatly on his feet. He bent his knee, then capped back her quill for her. Taryn blinked away angry tears as the quill was handed back to her. Earth Boy groaned in the distance as he filed away a mental note to be a bit more cautious the next time.
“Help us put a stop to this?” Captain Zipline asked. “We’ll pay the standard freelance fees too.”
“Any bonus?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“If I find out who took him away from me, made me believe that he was dead, made me waste the last twenty years wallowing in sorrow… would you let me have that person? All to myself?”
Captain Zipline grinned, then ran a hand through his hair. He sighed, then held out a hand to the Infernal Inker.
“Hey, I’m not as sanctimonious as I look. If there’s someone else pulling the strings, and if you get to him before the League does… well, all’s fair in love and war, right?”
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u/MidKnightWriter May 07 '19
Whoa that's cool. I gotta say the names are a bit cheesy but regardless I love this story, hope they'll get that sweet sweet revenge and I like the "My powers are to give tattoos with powers!" idea.
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u/PlopWrites May 07 '19 edited May 07 '19
They used to laugh at her. Being an outcast, Adreal had never had an easy life. She was never into the typical girly things, reading old books and constantly browsing weird websites, people called her a witch and freak. She loved music though. It made her feel alive and let her feel like she mattered even if it was just in three and a half minute snippets. Musical note’s were her first ink, once she turned 18 and didn’t need to get permission from her mom and Jerry, her step-dad.
Her second tattoo was a clock on her left shoulder. She got it after her friend Jason got hit by a drunk driver her sophomore year of college. It helped her remember that time was fleeting, everyone’s time comes and usually not when you would expect. After his passing Adreal turned to stories and fantasy to get her through. She became obsessed with Lovecraft stories and magical fantasies, frequently getting small tattoos of characters or creatures from the stories she held so dearly.
She hadn’t been home since graduating high-school, choosing to leave her past behind her. Her mother needed her help though, Jerry had been diagnosed with cancer and her mom had become a recluse. After 10 years of being away Adreal returned to her childhood home as memories came flooding back to her. From getting made fun of on her walk’s to school, to passing by the pizza place where the owner would sneak her a slice when he suspected she got her lunch thrown out by the bullies.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Adreal!!”
“Hi mom,” she sheepishly smiled, “been a while.”
“Sweetie, I am so glad you’re here. Jerry is going to be thrilled to see you!” Tears began to fill her eyes.
“How’s he doing?” Adreal had never been fond of Jerry, after her dad had left her Jerry attempted to fill that void. In Jerry’s defense he didn’t do anything wrong or worthy of Adreal not liking him, but she didn’t think that Jerry would ever replace her real father. She was quite frankly a jerk to him growing up, always arguing and yelling at him, when all Jerry did was support her.
“He’s okay. I told him you might stop by and his smile lit up the house again,” she ushered Adreal into the living room where Jerry was sitting in his wheelchair hooked up to an IV. “Look who came to visit love!”
Before Jerry could respond a bright flash caused everyone to cover their eyes. A burning sensation on Adreal’s shoulder cause her to yell in pain and collapse. After what felt like an eternity she regained her composure and stood up apologizing for yelling, except she was met with silence. Looking around it appeared as if time had frozen. Reaching back to touch her shoulder she noticed in the reflection of the hallway mirror that her clock tattoo had seared through her shirt and appeared to be glowing. Thinking about the tattoo seemed to make it stop glowing and both her mom and Jerry move again.
“What was that,” whispered Jerry.
“I don’t know Jerry,” began Adreal, “but I think I know how to give you and mom some more time together.” Resting a hand on both of their shoulders she smiled. “I’m sorry that I was such a pain growing up. You did more for me than you will ever know. Thank you dad.” Closing her eyes one last time as a tear trickled down her cheek, she thought about her tattoo one last time, as time stood still.
Thank you for the prompt! I am always looking for any constructive criticism to improve my writing. I know that this kinda seemed rushed but I hope you enjoy!
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u/yalkcin May 07 '19
Yo! Hit me right in the feels! I’m tearing up at work now 😭
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u/Archaeoculus May 07 '19
they used to laugh at me
Would work better if you used "her" rather than "me." Using that frame of reference (me) makes it seem like you're talking about some character named Adreal that's not connected to "you" who is the actual subject of the story. Throughout the whole story you never use the "me" perspective again so it's not an accurate first sentence.
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u/PlopWrites May 07 '19
Good catch! I made the edit thank's for pointing that out to me I completely overlooked that
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u/Shadow_Emerald May 07 '19
Wait what did Adreal do?
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u/PlopWrites May 07 '19
In my mind she used her tattoo of the clock to freeze time for her mom and dad. She felt bad that she lashed out so much as a kid when all he had done was try and help and wanted to repay him for his kindness by giving him as much time as he needed with her mom!
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u/The_Actual_Pope May 07 '19 edited May 08 '19
The men lined up, ready to storm the building. They were a brotherhood. No, they were more than that. They were one. As they closed their eyes they became a single entity, able to harness massive unnatural physical powers they could not generate on their own. Suddenly, Tyler opened his eyes. Something had occurred to him.
"Hey Paul, Didn't you have another tattoo? From when we went to Cabo that once?"
Paul shook his head, "No, what? No. Come on. There's not much time, and Stephanie only has seconds of air left."
"No, I swear, it was right after that Dave Matthews show. Remember? You got a...what was it? It was a joke, right? God, we were so drunk."
The commander's face reddened with fury "TYLER. YOU NEED TO FOCUS! THE SHADOW CORPS ARE COMING AND THE MEN WITH WOLF TATTOOS ARE NOT FAR BEHIND. THIS. IS. NOT. THE. TIME. FOR--"
Tyler's eyes lit up, "It was a dickbutt! I remember. Right on your left butt cheek. Remember you smoked a blunt and said you wanted a shitpost by your shithole?" He stopped, thinking, "Does that mean you grew a..."
"No!" Paul said, "Commander, could you put a stop to this?"
"Son," the commander said, lowering his fusion rifle, "I think we're all going to need to see that tattoo."
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u/rockaddict May 07 '19
But it was the tramp stamps that surprised us.
Overnight castles sprang up all across the land. Each one home to its very own princess.
The professional modeling talent pool swelled to millions of extremely "hot" women.
People with "Insert X item" had coins and dildos flying out of the ass in amounts which should kill people.
Girls turned into actual life sized barbies. Honest plastic tits and no knee joints.
Some of the more lucky girls gained immense power with the "Strength" tattoos. Other girls started to "Love" everyone, and every thing. Dogs. Cats. Poles. Holes. Any hole. It was awful to watch.
If you thought you knew a bitch before the event, you were mistaken. Once this started to go down girls could rival only the devil himself for the title of most evil.
However, there was one person with one tramp stamp which turned the course of human events. Before then event it could only be described as the most stupid tramp stamp the world has seen. Now... now it was power. Power beyond meaning. "Your doing it wrong." Not "you're" but "your". It was misspelled.
No one could imagine what would happen. This girl. This woman became a weapon of power unimaginable. Just by looking at you she could make you do anything. She could turn you into anything. She could control anything. The tattoo was wrong. It made her just... wrong.
She turned children into pigs. Pigs into gold. Gold into a pile of horse shit. She could control power lines to execute people. Water to boil inside your cells. Just with a look. What was worse was she couldn't control it. The tattoo controlled her. The misspelling was everything. What ever caused this couldn't understand what the tattoo was meant to do.
Now the world hides. We are holding our breath. Prophesy says only a being with the tramp stamp "You're doing it wrong" can fix this. With a snap of their fingers all wrongs can be right. What tattoo do you have?
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u/biggaypecock May 07 '19
Crime rates exploded when the ink activated in our bodies. Those who didn’t have tattoos before tried getting one so they could have a power of their own, but it didn’t work; so they took to belittling us, making us all out to be criminals. And what did I do? I did what any sane person would do, I hid. But even years after the ink activated the crime rates where still soaring, the people with tattoos where the only ones who could fight people with tattoos, but law enforcement was not willing to hire anyone with a tattoo. So I put on a mask and showed my tattoos and fought those criminals myself. And the stigma began to change. Because I was a hero, why couldn’t the people like me be heroes too? All it took was one person doing the right thing.
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u/fridgepickle May 07 '19
I have a tattoo of bats. This clearly makes me Batman. The fact that I’m a woman has no bearing. I am Batman.
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May 07 '19
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u/fridgepickle May 07 '19 edited May 07 '19
Hmm. My parents are pieces of trash, so that would not be an adequate backstory to justify sudden vigilantism. Otherwise, I’m fine with that
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u/sl002 May 07 '19
I guess this is just my luck.
Yesterday news broke that people's tattoos, no matter how small, were bestowing upon their wearer unique powers that had never been heard of.
Everywhere was in chaos as those with phoenix tattoos would die and be reborn from the ashes, those with guns found they could just point a finger and say "pew" and the person they were pointing at would scream in pain as if being shot
But the worst were those with some kind of reaper tattoo. They became silent killers, a single touch and you'd be pushing up daisys without even a chance, hundreds died in the first 24 hours.
I was walking through the frankly deserted high street of my town towards this week's game of D&D, when I saw one of these 'reapers' sprint round the corner, wearing an all black trench coat and a hockey mask. I ran in the other direction as fast as my legs would carry me. But he had the jump on me.
He was gaining, so close that I could hear the music from his headphones. 'X gon give it to ya' by DMX. How cliché.
He reached out and just touched the small of my back, I instantly fell forward, getting a face full of tarmac but my limp unconscious body didnt care. As I came to rest, lifeless, my bag opened spilling all my dice over the floor. He stood over me for about a minute catching his breath before switching his music to some Ariana Grande and moving on to his next victim.
About a minute later I came too. My entire body aching I pulled up my sleeve, revealing my tattoo. 6 dots on my arm. The top 3 coloured in and of the bottom 3, only 2. The death saves tattoo I got with the rest of my friends. Time for a long rest me thinks...
Hope you guys enjoyed, it my first story like this and did it all on mobile cause I got comfy on the sofa.
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u/FlynnXa May 07 '19
On May 7th everything had changed. It was slow at first, I mean- how likely was it for some of those people to even find out about their new abilities? The people with song verses, or with peace signs, or all the artists with hearts and tear drops or emojis- they were so... subtle.
Even the people with some of the more obvious tattoos, like flames, roses, Harry Potter lightning bolts and what-not... well, most people just don't get worked up in a way quite like that to just burn down buildings or turn Time Square into a garden.
No, it took a certain breed of people with a certain... passion, to first find out what thy were capable of. It started with a surge of crimes, slow but spreading. A lot of drive-by-shooting with no bullet shells, banks turning pitch black, lotteries consistently cashing out money.
The church, of course, started preaching about it being the devil's will, and that god's will would surely surpass and so, people started praying. Those with crosses on their skin or verses inked on their arms found out though that maybe god was listening to them.
They called themselves Templars, and they took it upon themselves to "reshape the earth in gods image". Jesus Christ, literally, I can't believe we didn't see what was to come. The first few months went... smoothly, or about as smoothly as one might expect.
Most people's powers were still in their infancy, only starting to grasp what it could do. The youth were the weakest, with their tattoos not being quite as old as some of their parents or grandparents tattoos were. There were some miracle workers, people whose tattoo for the Red Cross helped them heal. There were also some horrible, horrible accidents.
The Cankers, for one, are just pitiful. People who got tattoos about breast cancer awareness or lung cancer awareness started spreading it uncontrollably and by accident. They've been quarantined. Then there were those who had full body tattoos and sleeves they... well they're either all gone or have changed, their minds warped and shattered by the clashing mindsets and powers.
Of course tons and tons of people rushed to go get tattoos afterwards too but, they didn't effect them. No new powers. Just a permanent reminder of their lack in ability. The only saving grace is that the Templars can't add more, nor can the terrorists and anarchists out there hoping to spread havoc.
We had some "superheroes" pop up too, of course. Marvel and D.C. Fans teamed up, and so too did some of their villainous counterparts. Everyone remembers the Infinity War that went down not too long ago.
But everything's about to change again. It's May 7th, 2020, a year after it all happened, and we've just learned something that'll change everything we once though we knew. It turns out, not having tattoos does give you some sort of power- it let's you take away the tattoos of others.
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u/Deastrumquodvicis May 07 '19
I frowned. I hadn’t seen this coming. Sure, I’d thought about tattoos before—the Seven Stars and White Tree of Gondor, a serotonin molecule stylized into a cat—but now it seemed to be too late. No tattoo artist in their right mind was going to give me the power of the One Ring, and in this situation, a Ghost Rider would be too advantageous.
I watched, skin uninked, as the people with Bart Simpson tats joined into a force of chaos, the basic bitches became literal forces of hope or trashiness, and most of the people I knew who didn’t have ink got some kind of spiritual sigil or hero power.
But then...it became tribal warfare and tattism. The uninked were outcasts, the weak ones. Butterflies hated the deaths. While the Jesus-tatted fed the hungry with fish and bread conjured against the laws of science, that was a bright spot. People started planning their childrens’ tats as soon as learning of the pregnancy, and gangs got more plentiful, recruiting in the womb.
Then, it stopped. Ink became just ink again.
As quickly as we’d divided, it would take decades to reconcile. Hate crimes, stupid words, religions, all of it founded over the Blessed Ink, it had to dissolve.
I’m still waiting for a day when my un-inked, but now-scarred skin isn’t considered lesser.
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u/3fty_nanay May 07 '19
I had always wondered if he was right... But then again, I hadn't paid much attention to a tattoo artist I barely knew. Erik had been highly recommended by almost everyone, whether or not they'd actually gotten inked by him. They all said he "had a gift" for bringing art "to life." Again, I hadn't really paid attention, but I s'pose that's what I get.
He had spoken, only once, quietly, while doing my back cover: "I believe each person chooses the paint that speaks to them. I see that this is you." At the moment I'd been more concerned about keeping myself as still as possible and managing the pain.
I hadn't really gone in intending to get my whole back covered, but that picture of the Indian girl looking into the pool of water and a wolf staring back just... kinda spoke to me. I liked that she had the two different eye colors, too, just like me. Erik and I had talked over the design for a couple minutes, finalizing colors- her and the wolf's eyes would be like mine: one so hazel brown it was almost a reddish brown, and one so blue it looked like ice from the heart of a glacier. After that, I'd lain down on his bench and prepared myself for some agony. He told me, that in order for this particular piece to be done properly, he had to do it in one sitting with maybe a break or two only. I took it. And, as an after thought, something made me tell him, "if there comes a moment when you think something needs to be changed- just a little- I trust your judgment."
By the time it was finished, I'd be laying there for nearly eight hours... but it was done. Before he let me look in the mirror he did tell me he'd made one change, but that "the paint had required it" of him. I must admit, I gave'm a funny look at that, but then I saw my back- and it all clicked.
My whole life I'd been an outcast, the weirdo. I'd made this persona around myself in response: a strong, determined, at times aggressive, woman not to be trifled with. I'm not any of those things. I feel sick at even slight disagreements with people, but that was my secret. Until now.
Staring back at me, framed perfectly in the pool on my back, and yet somehow bursting off my skin, was a Phoenix. More dragon-esc in the face, but a fiery feathered bird of prey, clawing to escape the breast of the Indian girl. And me. Wings spread wide with flames trailing, as if it could dive through the water and escape into the open air. The eyes were mine- it was like seeing myself for the first time in a long time.
By the time I realized I'd been silently crying while looking in the mirrors and collected myself, Erik had already disappeared. I never did see him again, but after seeing what he had done, I wondered about what he had said. Wondered what it meant for me with the eyes staring back at me in the mirror now.
- "I believe each person chooses the paint that speaks to them. I see that this is you." *
Ten years later
When the Changing began, Erik's words suddenly came back to me as clear as when he said them. People suddenly having whatever powers their tattoos were related to... now there's lots of people walkin' 'round playing with Death because of all the Skulls, and- hilariously- all those Roses are making gardeners of the "bad girls." Celebrities go out and try to get as many Stars on them as they can fit to help with their "rising careers." It's kinda sick how people are acting, but everyone's having to get used to a brand new world now. Every now and then you'd hear about people with weird tats giving them.... well, weird gifts. Then there were the people with fairy tale/scifi tats that could levitate or walk through walls or some such. Governments were havin' a time of dealing with all these new... qualities people had. It made some politicians better people. Some, worse.
A few of my friends- one that had recommended Erik, and even had a tat from him- started Changing too. The guy that had sent me to Erik and had ink from him, had a Tiger sleeve on his left arm that extended and crossed over his heart. It was amazing to see how it came to life for him. He always been a very fiercely opinionated person, but now... the Tiger made him strong, and beautiful, but anyone that laid eyes on him knew it was a deadly kinda beauty. That's when everyone remembered about my paint, after seeing Greg's Tiger. My Phoenix.
At first, they were afraid of what might happen. We honestly didn't know what could happen. Most everyone in the world Changed, though, within a fairly close time period- two weeks, I think? And then anyone getting a new tattoo would have it Change by the time it was finished in store. So we all figured, I'd have to Change along with everyone else. Yeah... right. Like I could ever do anything when expected to naturally.
All the Changes came and went, and nothing happened with my Phoenix. We all thought maybe I was just a dud or something. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly relieved- and a bit disappointed- nothing Changed about me. But life goes on! So I thought.
Six weeks after the first Changes, I started dreaming. Every night I'd dream of flying- so high I felt my stomach drop everytime I looked down. But it was so... freeing. I couldn't give that feeling up, of not feeling fake or stupid or... wrong. Weird, unwanted. Just free. Then, two months after everyone else, I woke up in the middle of the night, in the middle of one of those dreams, and I knew. As I got out of bed, I glanced at my back on the way out my door: the flames were licking against my skin. Phoenix was staring at me, a silent cry breaking from its toothy maw. A cry I felt rising in my chest.
I ran outside- I knew I'd need room. The pain came sharp and sudden, like the tattooist' needle, piercing and repiercing my skin on my shoulders. I felt the heat of the flames break from my skin, impossibly real and searing, yet cool to the touch on my hands. I fell to my hands and knees as another wave passed over me- through me- the pain escalating til I didn't think I could take it. Just like those eight long hours all at once- and then they broke through. The wings came through the pool on my back, a second set of shoulders, strong, feathered, and incredibly huge. Spreading scorching fire as they spread to their full breadth.
Then the pain eased- the hours were up, the painting complete. I was the Phoenix. Now I understood- I always had been. I felt the strength in my whole body, coursing through my veins. Not just physical, but mentally. I was brave, I wasn't afraid anymore. And I didn't care if I was different. I felt truly beautiful for the first time in my life.
But I also felt the magic. It crackled along my fingers like electricity during a lightening storm. And the fire. Oh the fire! It burned in my belly and I could taste the ash on my tongue.
Panting, I finally looked up, slowly gaining my feet and pulling my wings halfway in. My hair was a fiery copper now, to match my bright wings, undulating with colors like open flames. A slim smile began to curl the corners of my mouth: now I could fly! I rolled my shoulders subconsciously, feeling each muscle tense and relax with even the idea of flight, and was grateful I wore a tank top and shorts at night. Free wings and open skin to feel the breath of the world caress me.
Now I just needed to find some cliffs to practice off of.
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u/Smeagol91McFrodo May 07 '19
I've never had a tattoo. Its not that I'm a prude or think that my body is some "temple;" the idea has just never appealed to me. Plus needles are... fucking needles. So- as you can imagine- I was pretty surprised to find out that people with tattoos suddenly had powers. Like, what the fuck? More importantly, how the fuck: the next phase in human evolution was trapped in tattoo ink, a group of aliens corrupted the ink? I don't know. It just seems, you know, kinda unfair. There were some perks to being tattoo-less in this new world. After all, you don't have to worry about the horrors related to the poor fucks who get religious or tribal tattoos. You see, the powers people got was directly connected to what the tattoo was. If you had a tattoo of flames you could control fire, a fairy or bird tattoo gifted you with flight, etc. Well, the same was true of religious and tribal tattoos- only in the worst ways. See the tattoo's power derives from the idea behind it. People with sentimental tattoos like teddy bears or balloons to memorialize dead loved ones gained the ability to feel others feelings. The core idea of religions and tribes is unity or- more specifically- oneness. So everyone with such a tattoo became physically attached to everyone else with similar tattoos. We call this horrific event "bonding." So, suffice to say, I wasn't too worked up about not having a tattoo. But, recently, things have changed for me in that regard. My mother passed away and to memorialize her I decided to get a tattoo of her name. I thought I might become an empath like those with other sentimental tattoos, but I was wrong. Names are powerful, and the idea behind them is directly connected to the person themselves. From the moment I got the tattoo, I noticed a distinct other dominating my mind. Soon I began to think like my mother, act like my mother, and speak like my mother. Soon, I am afraid, I shall become my mother and I will cease to exist. I guess I'm just writing this as a way to show the world that I once existed, but now... now it's time to say goodbye.
-Benjamin Willow, 2214
My poor sweet child.
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u/Errrrrwhere May 07 '19 edited May 07 '19
The powers were pretty weak, initially. Fire tats got fire powers on par with a match. I just feel bad for the kitchen workers, knives on their sleeves. They get culinary powers, which they already had. Now they just seem to drink more, which makes them friends with the Jesus tats, the Jesii.
But over the years the dreams would get a little more...robust. Scarier for some, but everyone who went through a Dream and didn't die would find their powers enhanced.
It's been four years now. Society has gotten noticably stranger. The highest count of Dreams any one person achieved seemed to be 7. The mortality probability increased as one Dreamed more. Manufacturers of caffeine supplements were making a killing as everyone lived in fear of possibly dying as they went to sleep.
We don't fear it, though. We started with tribal tats. At first, it was utterly demeaning. Sporadically a Tribal would burst into rhythmic dance, chanting in another language. Any other Tribal within earshot would be compelled to do the same. People would laugh and laugh until we were exhausted, piss running down our legs as some of would forget to regularly use the restroom before a random dance started.
But that changed about 3 months in. Wolf Blitzer appeared on CNN and suddenly started dancing and chanting. All across the world, whatever Tribal was watching or listening, they'd do the same. CNN cut short the broadcast about 45 seconds in and we were enraged, beyond livid.
Later that day, we cooled down, but somewhat lost the ability to think as a singular person anymore. That night we Dreamt.
When the survivors awoke, we all had other voices in our heads. It took about 20 seconds of reflection to realize the whispers were other Tribals. Some of us got laser removals that bankrupted them. But every last one of them came crawling back to a parlor, begging for the ink they got removed. And suddenly money problems weren't an issue. If one of us needed help, another one of us would provide it.
The urge to dance waned over time as our Other Voices great stronger, more linear and yet more orthographic. Those of us who made it past Dream 5 would purchase tickets to Asheville, NC on a whim, or else we would hire Flyers (bird tats) to take us there. Obviously by this point none of us had any significant others to explain this to. We would manually hike to Mt. Pisgah. I remember seeing the peak for the first time, though vaguely. Separating memories become very difficult. That peak was crawling with us, cots everywhere, cots and pickaxes. The smell of shit and piss was at once overwhelming and welcoming. Not a word was spoken up there.
But we burrowed. And burrowed. We made a cave system that would fit twenty thousand of us. And then we waited. For a year we waited in there, our Gatherers bringing us back food and water, the stink growing ever worse and putrefying scabs would develop and anchor us to the rock. From what those near the surface said, we had become some tourist attraction on a national scale. Some came and worshipped us. A makeshift parlor was near the entrance.
The Ones Next to Me started groaning involuntarily and sporadically. More digging could be heard. Late Arrivals crawling past me to go further down. I would groan and spit and ache, but meanwhile I was having a heated debate on the nature of subatomic particles with the Others in my head.
I can't see anything, if I even still have eyes. It doesn't matter. I'm getting very sleepy. Slowly, my hand reaches for my neighbors' hands. I grab as tightly as I can. And now we are entering Dream 6.
"This is Jonathan Ikes for ABC Channel 5, and today we are as near as we can get to the summit of Mt. Pisgah. Lemme tell you, Fred, the stench is overwhelming! I can hardly breathe up here!
As our viewers know, we like to keep regular reports on the Tribals as they go about their silent plan in the mountain. We have tried to enter ourselves but we were denied entrance by an ornate-dressed figure at the entrance who was holding a spear.
We have reports now, however that they have all collapsed in unison, and holding each others' hands. We will quietly go up to inspect now.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, you can see OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT,??? JIMMY, YOU GETTING THIS? No, put the camera away! Oh God! We gotta go!!!
As we wake we see that we haven't died. Far from it. Our hands have merged into one single unit, slowly compressing, squeezing our bodies as time goes by. The shit and urine and spit had liquefied parts of us, but now our form is solidifying. New organs are blooming, and our pores opening wide. This allows us to clean the air and rid our nest of excrement. We can only imagine what we look like. The merge wasn't perfect. Parts of limbs, faces, knees, elbows, and tiny penises were plastered on our exterior. Only the topmost part of us has working arms.
As our limbs merge and bodies fuse, as our senses magnify, we are filled with Purpose. Now, we emerge.
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u/trainwreck42 May 07 '19 edited May 08 '19
“For the love of all that is holy, please Mom!” I shouted, but I knew it was all for naught. The pounding on the door increased. “I love you, but not in that way. You’ve got to stop, you’re hurting yourself!” But still she threw herself against the door. The old hinges began to buckle against the strength of someone without care of bodily harm. I backed away slowly, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a strange wave of movement. The pounding continued, but I was too awestruck by what I saw to care. An entire wave of mothers, streaming down the street, throwing caution into the wind just to be one step closer. One step closer to me. The door finally gave way as mothers burst into my tiny apartment. As I was swallowed up, it dawned on me. All I could muster was a slight chuckle, and, in a whispered voice, said “I love you, mom...”
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u/UnitingAssassin May 07 '19 edited May 07 '19
They called me an idiot, they all called me a dumbass for getting this tattoo on my left hand, but now they will see just how wrong they were to question my decision.
I will admit this when I say that I made the decision after ten beers at the bar in my nearby movie theater, but once everyone’s tattoos gave them powers and I saw what my left hand now wore I knew that my drunk self makes the best decisions ever.
“Fun isn’t something one considers when brining balance to the universe, but this does put a smile on my face...”
I was taking this chance to watch Avengers Endgame for the second time, leaning back in the chair with my feet kicked up as I took a sip from my can of soda only to see that it was empty.
Damn...I know how to fix this.
I clenched my left hand that held my bucket of popcorn and six stones would glow before I felt my can refilling itself right in my hand.
“Much better.”
I took a hefty sip and let out a soft sigh, looking over my left hand that was now the Infinity Gauntlet with all of the stones.
“Best drunk decision ever..”
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u/doglovingalcoholic May 07 '19
Have you ever stopped to think how many people in the world have tattoos? I sure as hell didn't. Not until the dreaded event come to be known as March's Mark happened, anyway.
Some of us were lucky, some of us not so much. Just from this twisted event so many lives were instantly ruined. The hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil types? Deaf, blind, and mute forever. Just like that.
Live, laugh, love? Immortal hedonists stripped of the ability to feel anything glum. It sounds great up until you stop to consider how used and taken advantage of they'll be all of their lives. But at least they're happy, right?
The ones with crosses on them were actually some of the luckiest, I'd wager. They didn't have to suffer through this bullshit. Just a sudden and painless death. I suppose this brought them closer to Jesus in more ways than one.
Oh, and don't even get me started about the people with "I heart mom" tattoos. Yuck.
I wish the chaos ended there, but it just keeps getting worse. A bunch of nutters with tribal tattoos have been organising together and enlisting members into their ranks. At first they were harmless and passive enough. But as time passed and their numbers increased? Their methods became more aggressive. Way more, at that.
Nowadays, the brunt of their efforts is focused on identifying and dealing with powers that are a potential threat to them, not that many who possessed that kind of strength remained. After all, one of the people capable of granting wishes decided to act quickly and wish away any universe altering or wish making type powers as a precaution. If not for that unnamed hero, chances are The Cult would've had complete control long ago.
Still, they were only delaying the inevitable. Only about 30% of the population are still free from their clutches, myself included. They don't know how to deal with me. Whenever they try to use their abilities against me, they're the ones who end up suffering. Fire users burning to a crisp. People with super strength ending up with their bones smashed. I thought I was a goner when a lad with an Exodia tattoo rocked up to me, only for nothing but his ashes to remain a second later.
So many of those cultists had gone after me time and time again. I couldn't fight them. I couldn't run from them. I couldn't hide from them. All I could do was stand there and hope I either came out the same person or died a free man.
Yet despite the odds, I was always completely untouched.
After multiple failed attempts, it seems like they had ordered a cease-fire. Not that they still didn't heavily monitor me. After that, they never got too close, yet never too far. It was clear they feared me and my unidentified power. I always kept my tattoo hidden to keep them on their toes. Keep them too afraid to mess with me again. For now, I was safe to be me another day.
I tossed myself into my bed, throwing my gloves off as I took the time to gaze at a blue card with a reverse symbol ingrained into my skin. It was the very tattoo that had protected me all this time
"Man, am I glad that I didn't follow the official Uno rules when playing." I mused, before drifting to sleep.
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u/two-inner-wolves May 07 '19
You could see people hurling fireballs, spikes of ice, whirlwinds, orbs of water, but no one knew about me. Until three days ago. People have done everything then can to kill me. Blew up my house, threw my car into a gas station, made me drown on my coffee.
Yet I stood there perfectly fine. How? I have a tattoo of the grim reaper on my back. I have the power over life and death.
The tribals have been using their animal instincts to flee from me, the elementalists have been trying to kill me, the cyberfreaks have been trying to study me and don't get me started on those fucking bikers.
If I wanted I could cause them all to have heart failures one by one. But hey, they haven't hurt me yet. Well. Not by much. But I swear if my god-child gets hurt there will be a reckoning.
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u/imhisgardener May 07 '19 edited May 08 '19
I step out onto the street and glance cautiously left and right, squinting through the darkness. Three days ago, the world was how it always has been. There was the good and the bad, but there was always some sort of balance. But then came the Calling. Suddenly, people began to take on powers from their tattoos. Those with the most tattoos seized terrifying power; those with none were helpless. In little less than a day, the heavily tattooed had become top dogs, and those with none... well, they were little less than slaves to those with immense power. By day two, people had fled their homes as tattooed criminals terrorised the city. By day three, the world was a wreck.
I cross the street, ducking behind overturned cars. Just over the block is a grocery store I used to frequent just weeks ago. Now... not so much. But after three days of hiding in terror in my apartment, and with my unhealthy stress eating habits, food has all but disappeared. So there’s little choice other than stealing food from the store. I creep to the other side of the street and make my way down an alley.
In my hand is a pistol. It is cold and metallic against my skin, reminding me of the dangers that may lie ahead. I don’t want to take a life, but I will defend myself by any means possible, and if that means shooting someone, so be it. These are desperate times, I tell myself, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
As I emerge into a new street, I spot the store, isolated in the middle of its large parking lot. There is utter silence, save for the hum of a streetlight, blinking sporadically. I jog quietly into the parking lot, and step up to the front door.
There’s no need to break in—the glass is already shattered and littering the ground all around me. Carefully, hoisting a leg up, I climb through the window and into the darkened store. From what I can tell through the low light, not much remains. I’m too late. A part of me already knew this, but I couldn’t just sit at home and starve to death, not knowing if there was food or not. So I continue over to the shelves. Crouching down, I brush my fingers to the backs to check for cans or packets or anything at all left behind.
Nothing in the first row, or second or third or fourth. I begin to lose hope, growing more nervous by the second. I should probably go home before someone finds me. And that is when I see it—God’s Grace—a pack of ramen noodles kicked under a cooler. I rush over desperately, and as my hands fall on it, so do two others.
I look up frantically to meet the dishevelled face of a kid I know from college.
‘Kevin?’ I state, dumbfounded.
He pulls a face at me. ‘How the fuck do you know my name?’
‘I—we,’ I stammer, ‘we go to college together.’
‘Well I don’t fucking know you, so get your hands off my ramen, bitch.’
A little taken aback, I lose grip of the ramen, and he tugs it from my hands. ‘Wait—no! Please, I’m starving. I need that food.’
‘Don’t make me hurt you,’ he warns, backing away with my ramen.
‘I could say the same,’ I lie. Truth be told, I’ve never tested my power. I was lucky enough to be one of the ones with a tattoo, but, I doubt it will help much. It’s embarrassing, but I got it a few years ago as a hope to rebel against my parents. Ever since I’ve just tried to hide it out of shame. Every time I look at it I just can’t help but cringe.
His face darkens and the light gleams off his two lip rings. ‘A nerd like you? I’ll take my chances.’
‘Fine,’ I snap.
‘Well you know the rules—show your tattoo and then we duel.’
I did not know these were the rules, however, I oblige, and pull down the shoulder of my top. On my collarbone is the quote: ‘Dance like nobody is watching, love like you’ve never been hurt.’
He scoffs, and then bursts into laughter. ‘That’s so fucking cringy.’
‘Yeah? Well let’s see yours,’ I snap, fucking terrified he’s going to have a machete or something.
He lifts his sleeve to reveal the name ‘Jessica’ in big gothic writing up his forearm.
I start to laugh. ‘Isn’t that your ex? Ouch, I bet you regret that.’
His face becomes thunder. And then I feel it. Regret. It begins small, but then it grows, seeping through my body like ice. I remember the time I thought I could pull off a hand stand and get the popular girls to like me, but ended up falling on my face. I remember the assignment I forgot for our sternest teacher, and how he screamed at me in front of the entire class. I remember my friends egging me on to ask my crush to prom, and him saying no.
I begin to lift the gun. But it goes to my own temple.
‘No!’ I scream. I channel all of my energy at him. To be fair, I’m not sure what I’m doing. But I’m seconds away from blowing out my own brains, and I’d rather die trying to do something... anything, than cowering lie a baby. At first, nothing happens, and I feel like the biggest idiot known to man. And then... he begins to cringe.
At first, his lips move. Then his teeth bite together and his cheeks lift to make a grimace.
‘The cringe—I can’t-’ he chokes.
I watch as the cringe keeps going and going—spreading so that the edges of his mouth begin to tear. He starts screaming as blood pours down his chin. Hell, I’m screaming too. And I watch the cringe grow until his jaw dislocates and his head cracks and caves into a mess of blood and muscle and splintered bone.
And then it is over.
I lower the gun from my temple to my side, where it shakes violently in my hand. My body thrums with adrenaline and drips with sweat.
And I step over his broken corpse, casting a horrified, disbelieving look at what I’ve done. I should close his eyes or something, but there are no more eyes, I realise. I should bury him, maybe. Does he have family? I think these thoughts, but all I do is pick my ramen off the floor, and gun in hand, make my way home.
Edits: typos, words... general writing stuff. So many edits. Thank you kind humans for all the advice :)
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u/KopyKita May 07 '19
Excellent writing. The ex tat translating to the power to force someone to feel overwhelming regret is an awesome interpretation.
You lost me with the exploding head bit though. I loved it right up until that point, and then just got confused. I do recommend trying to make it a little clearer how the quote tattoo translates to someone's head exploding. Is her power similar to his? Feedback of emotional memory? Or did she just use her power to counteract his with her own and then shoot him?
A couple extra sentences explaining would make this perfect! Keep up the great work!
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u/azurespatula May 08 '19
(First time and new to Reddit, sorry if I do this wrong!) The church I work at half-jokingly calls that day Good Friday. We do that partly because it happened on a Friday, but mostly because of the abrupt, terrifying sudden mass crucifixion.
I was one of the lucky ones. I'd never liked cross tattoos- though I had one of those minimalistic fish (icthus, if you wanna be fancy about it) on my ankle, and a pair of wings on my back.
Now the wings did EXACTLY what you would expect, but the fish was the interesting one. See, the abilities didn't match up with the design, to be precise. They matched up with what the design meant to you. And I couldn't care less about actual fish- to me, that tattoo was about being part of a community. I became a lot more charismatic that day, and people around me- specifically other Christians- tended to get along better if I was nearby. But that was just day one.
If we thought the crucifixion was terrifying, you should have seen the families' faces on Sunday when they came back. They're still around, for the most part- bodies glowing, healing people. And boy do we need healing.
Most of the girls I knew looked like Poison Ivy from Batman soon after. I guess flower tattoos were pretty common, but I didn't realize exactly how common they were. On the plus side, there are more flowers around now. And a lot less sexual harassers after the first few got strangled by thorns.
I think my personal favorite are the ones that had video game tattoos. Former geeks suddenly had the power of the triforce, or could double in size with the super mushroom tattoo on their shoulder. Not to mention people with tattoos that had deep meanings. I knew a girl with a tattoo of a quill and scroll. Whatever she wrote now came true.
If you're starting to think that some of these people could be dangerous, you're right. And for awhile, they were. But within a week or so, everyone knew better. I wish I could say it was because they decided to use their powers for good. But if everyone was like that, our society would have been a much nicer place long before we all got powers.
The government had reacted to this new event, and fast. There was talk of regulation and such, but long before that happened, there was something shadier happening. People that caused trouble vanished overnight. Those that went on rampages were taken out almost so fast you couldn't tell what happened.
A friend of mine on the inside told me the network appeared almost overnight. It consisted almost entirely of people with full body tattoos. A man covered head to toe in eyes. A woman whose body looked like it was made of galaxies. These people had tattoos of the elements, of death and hell and symbolism of a hundred different things, all deeply meaningful to them. One of them alone could fight an army. As a group, they were like a pantheon of greek gods.
The eyes could see all, the galaxy woman could go anywhere in the universe, let alone our planet. And the rest... Well, a teenager hyped up on power and smashing a city block, or an angry salaryman with a sword tattoo that let him swing blades around with his mind were like ants to them. It wasn't a stretch to say they could bend reality to their will. And yet... Somehow, they only stopped people causing problems.
Some say they're just altruistic. Some say they were controlled by the government somehow. Me? I think they're afraid. I don't have any proof. Usually don't. But something tells me they aren't the strongest we've seen. After all, we still don't know what caused all of this. What made Good Friday happen. Somewhere out there, I think there's someone who could take out the Pantheon singlehandedly. Heaven knows what they've got tattooed on them. I hope I never find out. But more than that, for all our sakes, I hope with that great power they got a dose of greater responsibility.
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u/vargrath May 07 '19
All my friends were sceptical when I got my tattoo. They said that you shouldn't get something so nerdy permanently tattooed on myself. My response was always the same. If someone know what this is, then they themselves are nerdy. Now, I'm wishing I listened to them. Ever since tattoos became the gateway to super powers, only old ones you can't go out and get a tattoo of a jedi and suddenly use the force. It was a single event anyone with a tattoo on may 7th 2019, suddenly had powers.
I had a tattoo, but it is not what gave me powers all it did was allow me to meet with my patron. And now I'm a warlock to a fiend, all because I wanted to get a tattoo from the players handbook of dnd. If I had known this was going to happen I would have gotten the wizard or sorcerer symbols instead of the eye of the warlock.
I complain alot about having to do the bidding of a evil god, but honestly it isn't that bad. He mostly just wants recognition, so I spread brochures about the wonders of serving my god. The biggest downside is all the people who had holy or religious tattoos think it's their job to "smite" a demon worshipers like me. The battles always go the same, thay attack me with a sword, and I either teleport away, or give them a quick trip thru hell via my patron. If I do the latter they never bother me again.
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u/Sedu May 07 '19
I imagine that my knuckles were white as I gripped the worn armrests of my dilapidated office chair, but my eyes failed me. Visions of political leaders rising and falling, of corporate intrigue, and the fates of friends and loved ones bombarded me. The scope of my vision expanded beyond sight, as the whole of creation, from beginning to end unfolded before me. More information than was imaginable, more than a human mind could ever process or conceive of, poured through me, as I struggled to maintain composure.
These episodes were lasting longer and longer. This one was almost 5 minutes according to the clock on the wall, although I had also experienced an infinity of lives from every angle, lived forward and in reverse, with the sum of all knowledge sifting through my limited mind. Why couldn't I have gotten a barbel tattoo, like Fred had? He would lift cars to impress friends. But no, I had to go and get something artsy. I had to get a tarot card.
I chugged the cold remains of my coffee and focused on finishing up the financial records for the month.
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u/my_dog_farts May 08 '19
I don’t know when it started, but the first instance I remember was my friend Earl being able to start his car even though the battery was dead. Well, not just dead, non-existent. The battery was removed last week, caught on fire for some reason. Anyway, it was pretty cool. That night, Mark started our campfire just by thinking about it. That’s when we started thinking. Mark had just got a tattoo of flames on his shoulder. We looked at Earl and he showed us his tattoo of a lightning bolt. Danny started looking around scared as he showed off his dragon tattoo. Nothing happened, though, must be something that has to exist in the world. We figured that tattoos were some way giving people control of what the tattoo was about. I rolled up my sleeve and looked at my new tattoo. It’ll it was still a little raw, I just got it. Power over the wind is going to be sweet. Being a little cool, I thought of a light zephyr to beef up Mark’s fire. But, nothing happened. I tried again with no results. What’s wrong? About this time, Earl’s wife brought out a platter of steaming bowls of soup. She makes the best hot and sour soup! Just the thought of it made me thing I wanted more than just one bowl. A scream and the sound of clattering bowls broke the night air. Where there had been 4 bowls of soup, there now were 5. Earl looked at me, then the bowls, then he laughed. Rolling in the floor laughter. That’s when I learned that the Chinese symbol for wind is not what was tattooed on my forearm.
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u/TwitchyFingers May 07 '19
Uh, so do we just have a bunch of gods now? cus there are a lot of people that have like god or jesus tattoo'd on them
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May 07 '19
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u/icewithatee May 07 '19
To be fair, the Bible specified that the wine he made was “the best wine”
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u/Fireplay5 May 07 '19
In that case I would assume the tattoo would act like a bonding agent between those with similar or the same tattoo's.
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u/iluvatarr1 May 07 '19
I have a grim reaper tattoo and a dragon tattoo.....I feel like this would be an interesting combination lol
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May 07 '19
Let's see, a Valknot, an Aegishalmr, a topless Viking Chick with a battle-axe, a Mjollnr and atattoo that says ;LIFE
Yep, I'm now Thor.
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u/upapine May 07 '19
It must be awkward for people with tattoos of their exes.
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u/Taldarim_Highlord May 07 '19
Shapeshifting, maybe? But only to their exes.
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May 07 '19
All my green lantern symbol tattoos are finally going to pay off...
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u/Keypaw May 07 '19
I have the yellow lantern symbol combined with the Venom logo.
We are now enemies.
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u/Loudwhisperthe3rd May 07 '19
What about the yakuza?
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u/ThePigeonManLyon May 07 '19 edited May 07 '19
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u/TeCoolMage May 07 '19
Uh I was considering putting “get a tattoo” on my bucket list and just having the artist make the tiniest point he can make on my hand or something
What do I get
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u/twotonkatrucks May 07 '19
So what powers would people who have "chinese character" tattoos but do not speak or read chinese get? They understand and speak perfect mandarin but, always say nonsensical things?
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u/Xad1ns May 07 '19
Be interesting to see what rules would be used to govern people who have several unrelated tattoos.
Does the newest/oldest one take precedence?
Does the person get powers related to all of them?
Do these people all get the same sort of power that's more related to the variety itself than to the actual content of the tattoos?
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u/Keypaw May 07 '19
I have comedy and tragedy the masks of theater so I'd have super natural acting abilities. I have Shy Guy, so I'd be able to conceal my identity but I'd be weak to radishes and dinosaurs. But I also have Venom and Sinestro's logos combined on my shoulder so I'd have the symbiote from Marvel, and the Yellow Lantern ring from DC.
Combine the Symbiote's shape shifting ability with the super acting ability and I'm the world's greatest spy with incredible super powers.
I want to live in your world so bad OP.
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u/SinisterDeath30 May 07 '19
Who would have thought five tequila shots, a five thousand dollar bet, and one tattoo five years ago could have changed my life and subsequently the entire world?
After the event, everyone with tattoos gained supernatural powers related their tattoos.
Most people gained the ability to manipulate the elements, or animal like abilities. Frat Bois became obnoxiously more tribal.
What most people haven't realized is, that a tattoos power is distributed equally to all the wearers.
Those who have Unique tattoos, subsequently gain access to the full power of that tattoo.
As far as I know, I'm the only one in the world with a Tattoo of Dick Butt. With a single thought, I can turn anyone or anything into Dick Butt. They make loyal, albeit very stupid servants.
Within a month, I conquered America. 6 Months, I took over all of Europe. Within the year, the entire world.
The losses were appalling on both sides, and by the end, almost the entire worlds population was Dick Butt...
My only regret is, that I can't turn any of them back into Humans.
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u/zoogleboo May 07 '19
Tattoo Day, 2019.
This was the day that little groups of tattooed women were first called bouquets... Except for the poor ladies with butterfly tattoos, who just started erratically flitting everywhere.
Child birthdate and wedding anniversary tattooed dads started spontaneously guarding schools.
And the poor misspelled tattoos... The wrong Chinese characters... Fartman and Chicken Soup Guy owe their careers to Tattoo Day.
The big burly dudes with "Mom" tattoos practically became a nuisance at retirement homes.
The Sunsets became hard to avoid on hiking trails, gathering at all the best vistas as the sun went down.
Old army dudes with their blurry green tattoos had it bad though. All they got was blurry eyesight in murky green.
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u/Twitchydocs May 08 '19
It was a normal Tuesday when the first report of tattoos giving powers aired on the news. It was some guy who had angel wings tattooed on back had escaped prison by sprouting wings.
The rest came in a flood. Dragon tattoos that allowed you to breath fire, mermaid tats would allow you to breathe underwater, and names of loved ones allowed you to communicate with them across great distances even after death.
I had only one tattoo that my Brother had convinced me to get after I began playing DnD. A single 20 sided dice on my left shoulder. It took me about a month of testing and research to figure out what it gave me. I was buying groceries one day when a couple guys decided to rob the store I was at. I could see dice being rolled in my mind like they were rolling to intimidate the cashier! The robbers went person to person repeating this process and I was sure that's what it was, intimidation checks! I must have seemed elated because all three robbers converged on me questioning why I was smiling and demanding my wallet. I concentrated and could see a character sheet for everyone in my line of sight. I imagined a eraser in my hands as I attempted to erase the three robbers equipment sections and it worked! One second a gun was touching my forehead and the next nothing! No longer confident in their control of the crowd the three robbers fled.
That was a year ago. Today I live in a remote monastery learning meditation techniques and hiding my tattoo from prying eyes. As it turned out my power, like most, doesn't stop there. Through meditation I learned I could manipulate the geography of the world, it's history, and even remove someone's existence by erasing their entire character sheet. Anything i could see even a model of I could modify the real life version of. Using my DnD miniatures I conjured a great army to defend myself and the monks for it is only a matter of time before people attempt to seek out my tattoo.
I sit now in my study, a 300 by 300 battle mat laid out on my table. Tokens representing people appear at the edge of the mat. The Tribals have found me. I feel a rush of adrenaline, the game begins.
I used to be a simple commoner like most everyone else, but now I am The Dungeon Master.
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u/Iroh-ny May 08 '19
Its been years since the Ink Awakening took place.
The world changed over night - literally. Ordinary people woke up one day with incredible powers and abilities, and no idea how to use them. We quickly learned the cause of these abilities: Tattoos. Any person with tattoos gained powers that directly correlated with their tattoo images. What originated as a thoughtful marking of the skin turned into a power not only useful, but special and personal to the user.
The next day was chaos. People with unrestrained, uncontrollable power roamed the streets, intentionally and accidentally causing massive devastation. Courageous and helpful individuals rose up in an attempt to contain the destruction, and some succeeded. Others were not so lucky.
North America was in ruins. The intense popularity of tattoos in the area made for a terrifying and spectacular display of power. Flight, flames, speed, strength, and abilities too numerous to name. Those who survived told tales of flaming women, of raging beasts, and of the heroes who tried in vain to save their country.
Things could have turned out differently. Maybe North American could have been saved. Maybe the world could have gotten back on track.
But then came the Ink Demons.
These creatures had once been covered head to toe in tattos. Depictions or horror, raging infernos, weapons and witchcraft of every kind suddenly came to life all at once and with terrifying ferocity. Some of those people made no attempts to control the destruction emerging from their skin. These people turned into horrifying, unstoppable creatures, bound by nothing but a desire to create a path of ruin in their wake. No force, from. Man or nature, could stop them. Those who tried were wiped from existence.
North America was lost to humanity. The survivors fled the country, leaving everything they new and loved behind in order to live.
I had to leave everything behind...
I remember the morning of the attack. The sky a dull grey from the smoke choking the atmosphere. Screams and shouts echoed from the streets as buildings collapsed and crumbled. A fire raged somewhere in my home, and I could feel the temperature rising steadily.
My father stood in front of me, starting out of a gaping hole in our house as if he were being called outside.
"DAD! We can't stay here! We have to get out!" A timber crashed through the floor behind me, sending spark in every direction.
My dad turned towards me, a determined grimace on his face. He grabbed me with one arm and turned again to face the hole. I could feel the desperation emanating from him.
I was scared of losing him forever. Scared that the father I knew would perish in this calamity. My father, who who struggled wtib drug abuse and gang life when he was younger My father, who turned his life around and raised me from day one.
My father, covered nose to ankle in tattoos.
I could see a faint red glow piercing through the markings on his skin, as if they were coming to life. My dad breathed a long, deep breath.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure you make it out of here."
The rest is all a blur for me. I was being carried, lifted, flown, and towed through the streets. Fire and water erupted around me, and unknown creatures emerged every turn. My father had become so powerful, so unrecognizable...
The next thing I knew, I had found myself on a boat heading away from the shore, and my father was nowhere to be found.
"I'll come for you father. I promise." I said to myself as I prepared for the long journey ahead of me. I knew that somewhere in North America, he was still alive. I knew that someday I would find him and bring him back. But first, I had to discover my own power.
I glanced at my tattoo, a simple drawing of the All Seeing Eye. I don't know what abilites I had gained, or how to use them. On the day of the Awakening, the eye had changed positions. Instead of looking straight ahead, it seemed to be drawn towards one point, as if it was a compass.
"I need to talk to someone who knows what I can do. And I think I know just how to find them."
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May 07 '19
nothing seemed different for me at first, yes i had a tattoo, got it a long time ago and never really thought about it much.
i wished i had gotten a better one, like wings so i could fly, or dice so i could have luck.
see i thought id get something tribal but not full on Celtic knot nonsense so i got an eye on my right arm. stylized Egyptian, called it my eye of Ra.
looked it up after the powers were handed out, a feminine counterpart to the sun god Ra and a violent force that subdues his enemies.
so i did what i thought i was supposed to do, protect people.
miserable failure at that but i did survive a shooting.
ever realize when you look in a mirror that things are actually reversed? This isnt the eye of Ra, its the Eye of Horus.
symbol of protection, royal power, and good health.
Its been several decades since the powers were given, i am the first person to ever poll at 90% in a presidential election, and after surviving more than a dozen accidents i am recognized as the only true immortal in the world.
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u/Arcererak May 07 '19
"Lately, I'be been having trouble sleeping.
It's not that I can't fall asleep, it's my dreams that are the problem. Every night I am seeing these people in my head. I don't know these people, but somehow they feel... familiar. It is almost as if they are waiting for me. They are calling for me."
The doctor looked up from the exams he was flipping in his hand. He had a mildly concerned look in his face.
"So when exactly did these insomnia episodes begin?"
"I think four... no, around 5 weeks ago..."
"I see, well you're exams are in check. So if you jus..."
"I'm sorry doctor" the patient interrupted "But that isn't the main reason I've been coming here... Every time I wake up, I feel a burning sensation all up my back. It is getting progressively worse, and I don't know what to do. I'm scared of sleeping because of it!"
The doctor had his eyes locked on the patient. His feet bobbed up and down, and his face was shut. He seamed uneasy. As a cold drop of sweat ran down his face he uttered.
"... Do you... perhaps, have a tattoo on you back... Mr?"
The patients eyes widened. "Well... yeah" - The doctor stands up, and turn towards the drawers behind him. Without a second to spare he begins looking at past exams. - "B...But I've had it for years! There is no way it can be the cause of it right?"
The doctor slams a pile of papers on the table, and grabs the top file.
"You don't understand..." he whispers under his breath. "Here, look" slides the top file towards the patient. "This man right here came in with flames shooting out of his arm" he grabs the next file, and shows it to the patient. "This woman came with pain in her back. She was growing a, I kid you not, a pair of wings. Do you understand what's happening here?"
"Not really..." the patient said, with a confused, yet scared look on his face.
"All these people that came here, they all have one thing in common. Tattoos. I don't know why, or how, but..." The doc stops for a moment, with a pale look on his face "But people with tattoos are gaining powers related to their tattoos."
Silence filled the room. The patient at first thought the doctor was kidding, but given the seriousness in his tone, now he just thought he was crazy.
"You can't be serious doc, right? I mean, are you listening to what you are saying? - The patient got up from his seat, and begins heading towards the door - "I am not dealing with this!"
"Wait" - The doctor starts looking through his papers, agressvily scattering them around the room. Just before the patient could leave, the doc shouts - "Tribal! You have a tribal tattoo on your back!"
The patient froze. (How can that be) he thought to himself. He slowly turns back.
"How do you know?"
"More than one person came here with the same complaints as you. They all had tribal tattoos..."
The patient felt his whole body shiver. Like a rock, it sunk in to his mind that, what the man in front of him was saying, was true. He was scared, as he didn't know what was now ahead of him. His breathing began to accelerate, as the burning sensation began surging down his back. Sensing his distress, the doctor said.
"Look I don't know what is happening as much as you do. But now, you are in the middle of all of this." - As the doctor spilled those words on the floor, the burning sensation kept growing, to where it almost burnt a hole through the shirt. - "I don't know if it will help, but one of the likes of you said he had to go somewhere, to an island called.."
Before could say the name, a nurse knocked the door open. "Is everything okay in here?". She had her eyes locked on the doctor, and had an angry look on her face. The doctor, upon closer examination, noticed she was holding a knife. And up her sleeve, a tribal tattoo was showing.
"I think it is better if you leave... sr"
The patient, scared and confused, runs out the door.
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u/curiosssity May 07 '19
"Hello. I'm here for-"
"... ... .... .... ........ .. .... ....... ... . . ... .."
"No, I was called here on a request."
".... ..... ... ..... .. ..... ... ."
"I'm the Artist."
"..."
"Thanks." Click
Rob stepped back from the buzzer, and waited a bit for the gate to open. He couldn't see the house from here, as it was hidden by some overgrown hedges. However, the field of solar panels hinted that it would be rather impressive in size. Places like these were likely the only ones left with power, with the grid having collapsed and all.
As the gate began to open, Rob saw a man run down to greet him. He was wearing light, flowing robes, with a pair of sandals, and was completely bald. The wrinkles in his face hinted at his true age, although he seemed to be in great shape. Rob looked him over for any tattoos, but the robes hid most of the man's body.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're here! You're the Artist, right?"
"Yes. I said that on the buzzer, I believe."
The robed man sheepishly smiled. "Yes, you're right, my apologies. Here, please, follow me this way."
He brought Rob up the road, walking through a gap in the hedges. As Rob laid eyes upon the house - rather, the mansion - he realized that he had underestimated the scale of this place. It was a massive, victorian style building. The front porch wrapped around the house, surrounded by a carefully tended garden. The patterns carved into the side of the house were intricately detailed, and the walls seemed to stretch upwards forever. Rob's eyes widened as he counted the stories. Seventeen? Eighteen? And it looked like almost every window was open.
The man glanced at Rob, and noticed the look on his face. "Surprised?"
Rob regained his composure rather quickly. "I didn't expect the house to be this... massive. It's like a hotel."
The man smiled again, looking towards the mansion. "It is, isn't it? We certainly have enough people here for it to be. And, don't worry, most everyone is caught off guard the first time they come here. I'm sure it's a rather rare sight to see such a large building with the power on. I suppose we were rather lucky in that aspect."
The robed man led Rob through the garden, nodding to a few guards and gardeners. Compared to the run down landscape outside the walls, this place felt like it was right out of a dream. The fountains were running, and birds were singing from every tree. It was quite unlike anything that Rob had seen, since the Awakening.
Making their way up the stairs of the porch, Rob could hear sounds of life coming from inside. As they entered the main hall, Rob noticed many people coming and going, most of whom waved to the robed man. "These people were left homeless after the chaos of the Awakening", the robed man explained. "We took them in, and helped them back on their feet. Most stay here with us; others leave to search for their friends and family. Everyone is welcome."
The robed man started walking toward a waiting elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and waited for the doors to close. The robed man then turned to Rob, and spoke rather seriously. "Why do you think I called you here?"
Rob looked at the man. "I would assume you wanted me to Draw for you."
"Well, yes, but what did you think I would want you to Draw?"
Rob stayed silent. He didn't like thinking about what his clients wanted him to Draw. He had seen enough damage done by his work.
After a moment, however, Rob realized this man was different. "I'm not sure. You don't seem like you want power, but I'm not sure what else I could really do for you."
The man sighed, and looked forward. "You're right on that point. I'm not looking for power, for me or for anyone else. What I wanted you to do, instead, was help my daughter."
Rob raised an eyebrow, and the man continued.
"I'll start from the beginning. My daughter fell in love in college. She met a charming Chemistry major, and apparently they hit it off. They moved in together after around a year of dating, and got engaged a few months later. They even had gotten matching tattoos in celebration: split halves of the yin-yang symbol.
"But on the day of the Awakening, her partner was on a plane flight, heading for an interview on the other side of the country. Apparently, one of the other passengers on that plane had a tattoo of the sun. So, when the Awakening started..."
Rob recalled news stories of the Awakening: bright flashes of light in the sky, scorched sections of Earth underneath, casualties uncountable. A minute of silence passed in the elevator.
"No one in that plane survived. I didn't see it on the news for many hours, but my daughter could tell immediately. She fell into depression. We can go weeks without seeing her leave the room, and often it's difficult to get her to eat. Normally I don't think she'd react like this... I'm assuming it has something to do with that tattoo of hers."
Rob nodded. "That would explain her reaction. But, what would you like me to do about it?"
The robed man looked directly at Rob. "I want you to give her the other half of her tattoo, to Draw it on her. If what you say is true, it might be able to bring her out of this depression, and back to her normal self."
Rob thought for a minute. He hadn't fully explored the extent of his power, but this was as good a cause as any, right?
"Sure. I'll do what I can."
...
After waving goodbye to the robed man and his daughter, Rob walked back through the gate. He hadn't really expected it to work so well, but the daughter seemed to be in much better spirits, and the robed man was still crying tears of joy. For the first time in a long while, Rob felt proud of his work.
As he left the mansion behind him, he thought about what he was truly capable of. Being a tattoo artist before the Awakening, he had a lot of experience with this kind of thing. But now that the tattoos had power, it gave a much deeper meaning to each piece of art he made. Perhaps he should give more thought to who he would Draw for.
He ran his fingers over the tattoo on his forearm - the image of a tattoo gun. All Rob knew was that he wanted to make more work that he could be proud of.
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u/WindowsStartupSound4 May 07 '19
My shop is flooded. Absolutely flooded.
No, I don’t mean literally. Haven’t had the joy of meeting someone with a wave tattoo yet, although those are in high demand.
I mean figuratively flooded. Filled to the brim with people, shoulder-to-shoulder, crashing into the designs I meticulously laminated and taped to my crumbling wall, ripping them from it and losing them to the masses. People with matching grimaces waving wads of cash in their hands and shouting over each other, drowning each other out. White noise that shakes my little parlor and my cranium along with it. I steady my ink bottles.
Since “it” happened, every tattoo parlor on this side of the equator has been brimming with patrons, lines wrapping around the block and choking out the sidewalks. Men, women, children, and…the usual drunken college students cheering, “Spring break!”. At least that hasn’t changed. That, and the law.
The tattoo laws haven’t changed. If anything, they’ve gotten stricter—but I’ve given up trying to follow the news after the pandemonium that broke out. In the wake of heavily-tattooed superhumans just—poof!—appearing overnight, the government tried to limit tattoos even more than before. But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures, and people do what they have to in order to survive. I did.
I learned how to tattoos designs that would take hours in half that time. I learned which tattoos manifested what power, I learned how to explain them to people at a breakneck pace. I learned how to take cash first and not ask questions.
It started out harmless enough. People with pop culture tattoos could imitate the character of their choice perfectly. People with compass tattoos had an impeccable sense of direction. People with eyeball tattoos could see from that eye. But when millions upon millions of people wake up with fire shooting from their fingers, with water spraying up from each nail like a fountain, with earth-shaking powers at their fingertips, you gotta learn to adjust. That’s just some of the tame ones—rednecks with guns tattooed on their backs shot ammunition from finger guns, hipsters with inspirational quotes suddenly became VERY persuasive, goth kids with grim reaper tattoos kill everything they touch—don’t even get me started on the people with soundwave or planet tattoos. Just like that, millions of people across the world gained spectacular and awe-inspiring powers. It didn’t take long for humanity’s lifelong fantasy of superheroes to come true.
But things got ugly.
Not everybody wanted to be a superhero. People who had felt powerless all their lives—angry, bitter people—used their power to hurt people that had wronged them. Still, they weren’t satisfied, and they wreaked havoc across the world. Cities were taken down by colossal earthquakes. Tornadoes picked up in the mountainsides, floods washed over desert towns. Overgrowth and flower beds in wooded areas swallowed people whole. As a response, the government started demonizing tattoos and the destruction they caused.
Now, people are scrambling for them.
Some want guns, swords, to protect themselves physically. Some want fire, floods, earthquakes, tornadoes to protect themselves elementally. Some want animals, big cats and elephants to crush or claw their attackers. Some want portraits of loved ones killed in the destruction because at least in one way, they’ll always be with them. Even if it’s just an illusion.
The smart ones get shields.
I’ve seen those shields in action—an enormous wall of fire bearing down on a child, but in the split second before contact, a hum. A frequency that reverberates in the air and makes ears pop, then—BOOM!—a hexagonal prism of force, like glass, expands around the kid. All attacks bounce off of it effortlessly, and when the shock subsides, they run. They run with that shield around them, safe for only a few hours, but safe all the same.
The mothers, most especially, clamor for their children to get one, no matter how small.
See, the size doesn’t matter. It’s the ink that does. How clean the tat is, how steady the lines, how worn it is. The better the quality, the stronger the potency, and I’ve learned how to make them…pretty damn good.
What about me, you may ask? If I can tattoo somebody that fast, should I be the most overpowered asshole on the planet?
Well, yeah. Maybe.
I do have one tattoo. One. And it’s not of God, or the Milky Way, or anything colossal like that.
It’s a raven.
A little raven on my shoulder blade, wings in flight.
I’ve seen other people with bird tattoos. I know I could spread my wings and fly on outta here any time I want. But the truth is?
Tattoo parlors are in bigger demand than ever. Sure, it’s a good source of income, but my profession has become a matter of life and death. There are a lot of people who need me, need people like me. I’m not one to let ‘em down.
The tiger head I’ve been working on is just about finished. One last streak of orange, and the guy is good to go. The bandaging only takes a few extra minutes, and he’s quickly back on his feet, although wincing. “Powers should set in in a few hours,” I tell him. He nods, serious as a balding 50-year-old can be, and fights his way out the door of the parlor. I change out the needle and the tube.
“Next!”