RP:Thoughts of Goodwill And Charity

SynopsisJoan once again travels out to Rynvale this time she hopes to see and visit with Leoxander and or Lita in hopes to get a tattoo by either of them.

The Governor's Residential Villa

Leoxander jolts from a deep rest, becoming more aware of their surroundings. Leoxander was far easier to track down these days, having pinned down the island's south side as his stomping grounds. Even though he didn’t have a lot of ‘political’ experience, he was going with instinct and intuition, finding the inside rumors and the outside flaws for a long-term plan to get the port in a working state. Chee (the one-eyed, minutes older pup that Leo called ‘Grim) prowled and wove the buildings while Jee (or Git) seemed to like smelling the sun as if he could reach it with his large nose, and sometimes skittered when his brother topples over a bit of debris. Dark ledger in hand, his heel hooked onto a fence banister, and he lifted himself into a balanced seat to finish jotting notes and numbers. He wasn’t shirtless, but he wasn’t armed and in uniform, either. Just a loose black shirt with the collar unlaced, jeans, and boots. But there was definitely a knife stashed away on his person, somewhere.

Joan had that floppy big sunhat held on top of her head as she made her way through the shopping district, the vampiric healer muttering under her breath about the evils of full-on sunlight upon her very icy ivory pale exposed bits of skin. She was a city vampire and was used to heavy gloomy cloud covers like Vailrin or the shaded areas of Cenril. Out here on this island was nothing but a lot of full bright sunlight, it didn't affect her too much but she did feel a slight drain on her powers when she was out here all because she was not used to that damn direct sunlight that shined down. As she moved out from the clinic and down the streets moving towards the main drag she would cast her voided light violet gaze to take in the general public as she moved past in a firm stroll, a brow arched upwards as she finally noticed that this area was not like the other cities she lives in and visited, there was more of the poor and downtrodden, she'd offer a 'clink' of her tongue as she kept on her way, she'd need to speak to the clinic to see if they could try to set up a soup kitchen or something along those lines. It would help to also offer the basic necessities in mini care packets with personal hygiene products and an offering of gently used but clean and in decent shape second-hand clothes and shoes. Nodding her head firmly she would draw up short once she came back to her senses as she finally noticed the dirty-blonde maned old salty sea wolf as he rested, seeing he had a ledger in hand the undead woman would cross the distance between them as she called out to him, she would draw up short once she was within hearing distant "Hey there Leoxander. Got a moment for me to bend your ear?" She gave his two pet maned wolves a chance to come forward to greet her if they wanted to, she'd dig into a small low-slung satchel she wore against one hip with a hand searching for a couple of pieces of dried jerky to offer the wolves.

Leoxander couldn’t read minds, but he would have protested that Port Rynvale -was- like no other city. The center of the island held the lush greens and more of those fine high-elven structures, but at least the buildings close to the shore were properly lifted off the ground to prevent flooding and let the air travel through. His own house had a couple of large, colorful pinwheel-like fans that hung in the open windows and redirected the ocean breeze, but they could be wound to do so on their own for a while without the wind. He looked up when movement down the road drew him to the color purple, just as Grim’s strange bark sounded from one side and ‘Git’ because to walk closer to Joan. His unshaven jaw lifted, hair half knotted back but coming loose and falling over his eyes again. “Hey, Chari. Survivin’ the heat wave?” It was one of those abdominally warm days on the beach that would cool down by the next week, hopefully. Sweat rarely touched the hot-blooded Lycan but he had a peppering on his face and arms. Closing the book and writing stick away. “Should we bend it in at the house or pub? Wouldn’t want yours to melt any longer.”

Joan fished out a couple of pieces of that dried jerky and with a sharp whistle to each maned wolf the vampiric healer would toss each one a piece, her attention going to the Lycan as she offered a rolling shrug of her vested shoulders. "House, pub, or tattoo parlor will work. That is if you feel up to inking me up." She'd offer a fully fanged smile as she adjusted her floppy sunhat upon her head at what she thought would look rakish, the floppiest part folding over hiding the sight of one of her voided eyes as she waits to follow wherever Leo decided to go. "I won't melt...I just warm up to almost live body temperature if I'm out in full sunlight for too long. I'm not used to full-on sunlight is all." She explains before asking if she could try to set up a soup kitchen in conjunction of the clinic and on behalf of the healer's guild, as well as passing along the idea of supplying those that sought out the help of the supposed soup kitchen with also basic needs. "It is charity of course. But for the good of the citizens as a whole."

Leoxander glanced in the direction of Soulskin but it just so happened that he’d conveniently brought equipment and materials home per Loravelle’s request. “Home it is. ‘Bout due for a bite to eat, anyhow.” He leaned forward to land on his feet and scratched through messy hair, pulling the strip of leather cordage free. “Go on, boys. Go, harass mum.” A motion toward the beach, and they knew the captain’s orders, sprinting in a race toward the estate though they got distracted at the door on the porch, roughhousing. “Lora says back’s lookin’ better.” They’d finally reach the building to stamp the sand off the steps, and if Loravelle wasn’t already at the door because of the noise, he’d start to push it open with a call. “You decent, babe?”

Loravelle was still getting used to the noises that came along with living with just Leo and the pups instead of her larger family, and the sound of the twins' barking accompanied by stamping boots, the door opening, and Leo's voice simultaneously jolts her out of her focus at the stove turning steaks over in a pan with surprise and brings a grin to her face. “Yes!” She shouts, then moves the pan away from the fire so the meat doesn't overcook so she can meet Leo and presumably any company he brought along with him at the door. He wouldn't ask if she were decent otherwise, she suspects. Along the way, the mouse freezes mid-step near the doorway. Should she head back to the kitchen to make more food for company? They had plenty.

Joan would roll her eyes, but that be very hard for anyone to notice since her eyes were all that voided light lilac color as she followed behind the lopping off maned wolves and that old salty old sea wolf about his comment of his scars looking better, Joan knew her abilities when it came to magical healing. If she knew she could do it, she damn well did it. As she followed behind up the steps to Leo and Lora's villa the undead woman would make sure to lift one shoed foot up a bit at a time to knock any sand off the souls before stepping fully into the place. "Hm, good it should damn well look better, I almost got smoked by that damn living Lycan energy of yours in exchange, I must be the first vampire healer stupid enough to attempt." The thought of snacks would make her hungry had she been still alive, as she didn't need to eat like living beings, as Leo calls for his mate Joan would take a moment to clearly study the villa, very snazzy she thought tho her attention is taken by the sound of Lora's answer to Leo and her approaching steps till they falter. "Uh...I just need snacks and tea if you please." She'd call out to the smaller woman if she was still in the kitchen.

Leoxander said, "To be honest, I didn’t even think about it. It’s been a lot of time since there’s been any hatred.” Between wolves and vampires. When he’d been changed, there was a lot to learn, and between Mahri, himself, and other of the scattered Nyxians, they all had plenty of scars once people realized and used silver to their benefit. Closing the door behind them, he caught the smell of cooking food outside and just took a private moment to count overdue blessings. He’d never had a house, or the type of lover that would have a hot meal waiting. Before Lora could backtrack to answer herself, Leo tossed his book and pen aside somewhere convenient and pulled in his fiancé for a brief kiss and a murmur against her lips, “Smells so good.” Her? Or the steak? Anyhow, he released the shorter dark-haired woman and glanced back to Joan, the shadow and ventilated house very comfortable for most, though the wolf was always hot. “Wha’ kinda snacks we talkin’ about, healer?"

Loravelle heard Joan's request for snacks and tea, but before she could properly greet the vampiric healer and hurry back to the kitchen to put a kettle on the stove, she was swept up in Leo's arms. Grinning at both him and his murmured words, she kisses him back. She doesn't separate from her love just yet instead hopping up on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder at Joan. “I have crackers in one of the cupboards and these dried seaweed...chips?” She isn't sure what to call them. “They're salty.” But maybe Joan preferred something sweet, and honestly, seaweed snacks might not taste good with tea. “We have coconuts too.” Lora? Offering up a portion of her coconut hoard? How generous of her.

You would linger a bit behind, waiting to give the couple their moment before she moves to follow after, "Anything sweet." Joan did have a sweet tooth, and thanks to being undead she would never suffer the fate of mortal women when they overindulge in the sugary baked goodness of them delightful carbs. "Cake, pie, the normal sweets." She didn't think seaweed would do it, nor crackers, and coconuts?! Maybe if it was baked into something,"

Leoxander finally let Lora go, not one to throw public display around others, but it was becoming more and more difficult to resist. “We can break into the fudge and cookies; I got plenty more from Red bein’ shipped before the bash.” Leo, of course, took up a seat at the small ‘breakfast’ bar that had stools on both sides, so he sat down where the alcohol was tucked away in cabinets and begin to prepare them drinks. The mouse may or may have not noticed his palm and steal one of those coconuts and after a rinse of sand and dirt off his hand (unconcealing the brand on his left to do so, he began to husk and slice the coconut as well as blood orange, which is one tree that grew well in the orchard in the shade of the cove. A handful of ice and some mint leaves plucked from the windowsill plant and a lime mashed in the glass with a wooden pestle before he added some of the extra coconut milk and some sweet rum. “Bourbon, was it? You want ice?” And the answer of yes would ring out from a second cup, otherwise he twisted some of the blood orange slices and dropped it in. His drink was a simple one, spiced rum with cinnamon, a little ice added to cool it off without watering it down. “We still got’a pick up that missive. I can have the dockmaster bring it by, but I don’ want it too close to the house or sand, here.” Easily enough those specks could mix into the grains and if nothing else, it would make things very difficult for Leo to enjoy that claimed stretch of land. Either glass was pushed on the bar in the general direction of each lady.

Joan would hold up her hand and refuse the offer of bourbon, when it came to snacks Joan only drank tea. It was just her way. some might like some booze with chocolate, but Joan didn't, it was just her way is all no disrespect to her host and hostess. "Black tea with sugar and cream will do if you have any." She grew quiet as Leo seemed to be addressing his mate now after she refused the booze. She'd listen with half an ear and show polite interest.

Loravelle frowned. Not at Joan's request, but that she hadn't considered baking cakes or pies. She should try that sometime, now with a full kitchen to mess around in. But Leo is right, they had plenty of other, better sweets. With that in mind, she gives Leo one more hug and a quick peck on the cheek before leading the way into the kitchen to raid the cupboards for a plateful of cookies and fudge for Miss Joan. She steals one of the fudge squares for herself along the way before setting the plate down before the vampire, then busy herself with filling up the tea kettle for tea as well. There was still dinner to tend to, but Lora could multitask. Tea kettles didn't need to be babysat anyway to ensure that they boiled. Was it in poor taste to give Leo dinner while only giving Joan a plate of sweets? Hopefully not, but there's an apologetic expression tugging at her features all the same when she trades the glass Leo pushes her way with a plate of steak for him. “I can stop by and get the missive,” she offers, though she's wary. More about what it says than bringing it home, because she certainly wouldn't do something like that.

Leoxander happily traded the steak for the coconut mixer, which he put in a tall glass so she could get a little buzz going with him. “At least take the boys with you. Would prefer Lita went since Mahri ain’t at the shipwright’s right now.” Joan would get her tattoo. Sooner than expected with the way Leo hunched over his plate like a convict and picked it up in both hands to tear into the rarest part for a hungry bite. Half through a mouthful with a bit of rare steak juice dribbling in his chin whiskers, he could hopefully be understood between that and his drawl. “Lady’sere f’ some ink. Where’at, again?” If she had left them the sketch it had been preserved but carboned over and embellished with roses that he intended to mix a swirling, vibrant purple for, with some mixed and blended high and low lights.

Leoxander happily traded the steak for the coconut mixer, which he put in a tall glass so she could get a little buzz going with him. “At least take the boys with you. Would prefer Lita went since Mahri ain’t at the shipwright’s right now.” Joan would get her tattoo. Sooner than expected with the way Leo hunched over his plate like a convict and picked it up in both hands to tear into the rarest part for a hungry bite. Half through a mouthful with a bit of rare steak juice dribbling in his chin whiskers, he could hopefully be understood between that and his drawl. “Lady’sere f’ some ink. Where’at, again?” If she had left them the sketch it had been preserved but carboned over and embellished with roses that he intended to mix a swirling, vibrant purple for, with some mixed and blended high and low lights.

Joan had indeed left the drawing at Leo and Lora's cozy villa on her first visit! She would rub at her inner right wrist before twisting her wrist upwards to expose the area she thought the purple sugar skull tattoo should go. "Here if possible. I don't have any arm hair anymore, so you don't need to shave the area, just wipe it well and clean before. Oh...but how are you going to make sure it's going to stay? I almost heal over completely since I keep myself fed pretty well and often with fresh blood." She was curious how her body would react and if it would just eat up the ink and the tattoo would just be gone within a few days as her body absorb and broke down the ink.

Loravelle probably had a third of the coconut mixer Leo made for her down already by the time he suggested taking the boys and recommending Lita to come too. She nodded in agreement. It wouldn't make much sense if only Lora read the missive. She wasn't in charge of the island like Leo and Lita were. His drawl had grown on her, and it was easy enough for the mouse to understand. Joan is getting a tattoo? She looks at the vampire, interest apparent. Her fascination with ink might border a little on obsessive even if she only had three pieces so far, but each one was so very significant to her. So much so that Lora glanced down at the tiny dot inked on her hand before refocusing on Joan. “What are you getting?” But then she remembers that beautiful illustration of the skull. It'll look great on Joan's wrist, especially if Leo and Lita are doing the work. The tea kettle began its shrill whistle that prompted her to set down her drink on the table so she could move it off the heat, and she searched the cupboards (they're a teensy bit disorganized since they're still settling in) for not only one of her favorite teacups and saucers for Joan but a tin of black tea and sugar. As for cream...Did they have any? She could at least prepare a cup of tea by itself and put both it and the small tin of sugar with a spoon before Joan, then go searching for cream. “We might not have any.” Her tone is apologetic, but she looks to Leo just in case. “Do you remember if we have cream anywhere?”

Leoxander continued to devour his breakfast as Joan answered him and he nodded as that was a very intelligent place to tattoo. Sure, there were veins not too deep under that thin flesh, but there were fewer nerves, a relatively flat surface, and easy to tend to. “Lita’s go’ somethin’ for that. We’ll head ov’r there after. An’... I’been in that game with self-healers, plenty. You might need three ‘r four sittin’s b’fore yer body jus’ accepts it.” Maybe why so many of his own were faded and needed retouch. But those were perfect for Loravelle’s practice. A few last rushed bites and he habitually wiped his hands on his jeans and the back of his wrist across his unshaven face before he stood. “Jus’ the coconut milk ‘till we head to Cenril or stick some cows in the stable.” He replied to Lora as she tried to be the perfect host. “I ‘aven’t shown this to the Mouse, either.” Mentioned as he searched the drawers in a desk in the next room, unless he was paused to wipe the steak off his hands and face, first.

Joan would gratefully take the freshly brewed cup of black tea and the sugar once Lora placed the items before her, with a super grateful smile full of fangs Joan would go to town on that sugar bowl...this is where the vampire would spoon in three large spoonfuls into her tea then stir it, in a classy lady-like manner...by this point, it was more sugary flavored hot water now. Joan was an addict too -sugar- since for most dead their tastebuds pretty much died when their body went through the final mortal death. Yes, sadly the tastebuds went, and it had to be loads upon loads of sugar for her to even barely taste it. "It's okay if you have no cream, and no thank you...I'm not a fan of the coconut milk." She'd take one of each of the offered snacks soon after and nibble away in a content manner. Omnomnom. Yes, manners, all lady-like again tho she was savage with that poor sugar container. 'A moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips' use to be the saying for those that overindulged on the sweets. She watch the couple with polite interest once again as they got close once Leo was finished. Someday Joan might bother to look into what all the fuss was about romance but honestly, she didn't see the point for her herself. Everyone was pretty much a walking corpse open and up for examination to her. "Ooh okay, here I was thinking one sitting and I'd be good..." She dropped off, yes she did read up on the practice and the art of tattooing but it was rather limited. She'd finish off her sugary tea as now her full attention followed Leo her head tilted a bit to show he had her full focus.

Loravelle can't help her smile as Leo finishes his plate. She knew he would, but it was just good to see him enjoying a meal in their home. At the mention of self-healing, she's reminded that Joan is a vampire and casts a glance her way momentarily. There isn't fear in her eyes like there would have been long ago, but the same sort of curiosity she possessed for Leo's lycanthropy. Bodies that healed themselves sounded like something plucked from myths back home instead of reality. Before she can get too caught up in her thoughts, the mere mention of coconut milk perks Lora up and she remembers. “Oh right! Let me get that for you. Miss Joa-,” but she stops short at Joan's response. They'll need to get a cow, Lora suspects. Not just for milk, but beef. ...Did Leo know how to take care of a cow? Lora didn't, but that was something to bring up later. Or maybe Vhys had cows. The mouse is getting too lost in her own thoughts and grimaces at herself for being so inattentive. When she notices Joan's teacup emptied, she fetches the tea kettle and black tea leaves to pour her some more, if the vampire wanted. This didn't feel like falling into her former subservient role at all, which is a slight surprise for Lora. It's just...being polite, really. Eventually, she does return to her unfinished coconut drink while eagerly waiting for Leo to return from the next room.

Leoxander shrugged at Joan as he unfolded the sketch and handed it over for her and Lora to inspect. “Relax, babe. Chari knows where the kettle is.” While the vampire went over the design, she would see he didn’t alter much from her shape and idea. He added shading in the eyes and skull for a more three-dimensional tone, making it ‘pop’ to life, ironically, off her skin a bit. Then there was the floral embellishment that curled like musical notes enchanted the curls and weaves, at either side like a crest, but the roses were bundled at the bottom corners, a couple of full bloom and a few buds amongst the thorns placed at proper places to not tear apart the synchronism of the piece. It was just a scribble of different purple shading and maybe the slightest highlight of reflection on the crown of the skull, which wore one of those only blooming roses as an accessory like a tilted cap. Flowers, a center jewel, and twisting vines blended into the decorated face in a ‘day of death’ style, some of those rose petals were falling, withering in the descent. Leo was back to finishing his drink and retrieving his plate if Loravelle had not. See… some manners. Sometimes.

Joan took her time to look over the improvements that Leo laid out for her and Lora to look over. Joan thought it looked fine to her and said as much aloud. "Looks good, I'm ready for the stick and poke. Bring it on." She would pour another fresh cup of hot water over the spoonful of black tea leaves into her cup, and another three huge scoops of sugar followed. She stirs with her spoon into the steeping tea leaves and then takes a long drink ready to do this after that load of sugary tea begins to run through her system.

Loravelle marveled over the sketch Leo returned with, so much so that she audibly gasped. “It's beautiful, Leo. You're so talented.” She could praise him for his artistic skill forever, probably, but kept it to the one compliment for now while trying to and likely failing, subtly wink at the wolf before peering back down at Joan's tattoo. When the vampire suggests that the tattooing is going to begin soon, at least how the mouse interpreted her words, Lora wonders if the other woman might want a little bit of privacy. She may have already displayed where the tattoo was going, but Lora thought it might be rude to hover. “I'll run over to get the missive,” she offers, and immediately whistles for the twins to come to her side. Before leaving, she approaches Leo and throws her arms around him for a quick embrace and kiss goodbye. “Thanks for washing the dishes, babe,” she murmurs, whether he actually washed them up later on or not. It looked to her like he had more interesting work to do anyway. To Joan, Lora flashes a smile. “Good luck, Miss Joan!” She might not need luck, given her vampiric nature. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much for her. Lora hoped not. After sliding flip-flops onto her feet, she's out the front door and on the street, twin-maned wolves in tow.

Leoxander nodded to Joan, already bringing out the large chrome case that had his equipment, which had traveled from Jolly Roger to Soulskin, now home, but who knew where else it had been? He’d been in this business long before he established himself on land, though tattoos at sea were always a risk, the rogue was a natural survivor and had a small bit of alchemy and brewing knowledge of his own. Only a healer in the sense of making sure that ink was permanent in a world where nothing was certain. Grabbing a barstool, he motioned Joan to get comfortable in his preferred corner of the couch, dragging the coffee table closer as if it was made of cardboard and not heavy oak, so she’d have space for her tea, and he’d have a flat surface for the inks and items he needed. He was already about mixing inks, and without warning thumbed the back of her arm with something wet and shimmery, not explaining just yet. It was an allergy test to the pearlescent power that caused currents of gloss like the sea, though he did verify she’d trust him with the strange addition. Gloves the scar on his left hand and the tattoos on eight knuckles. Nine if you counted the green dot between thumb and forefinger. Cleaning the spot was next, which he had actual stinky antiseptic for, but paused at that, too, not knowing the effect on her skin. Before Lora could get too far, he caught her up by the clothes she was wearing and pulled her in for a kiss. “Be careful. ‘Member the howl for help?” Excepting a nod, he let his lover go.

Joan had followed, sat where directed as she balanced her teacup and saucer till that oak table was brought over. She'd settle but quickly wrinkle up her nose at the feel of the slimy wetness touching her icy pale skin, she'd offer a small shiver as her only reaction before saying, "Uh...so long as it's not your blood or dragon's blood I should be okay." Her eyes were wide as she watches all this hubbub in a fascinated manner. Her first ink session, how cool and neat?! She would have bounced up and down on the couch cushion had she not been older and more mature. Instead, she watched closely her whole arm rest on the couch arm as her wrist was held up out and steady.

Leoxander prepared towels in addition to the cushioning of the couch before he touched the antiseptic to her skin. He’d inked Lita before, and a forsaken elf with their moon-touched skin, but he was pretty professional when it came to putting a mark on another body. He took time to trace the design with a wet, temporary ink utensil and once her skin was dry, stood from the stool with a focus on her entire arm to make certain the tattoo didn’t fold or crease weirdly, within that realm of possibility. Another reason why the wrist was a good first. Once the carbon duplicate was stamped, inside out so it was right side forward when he needed it in, he let her inspect the placement as he dug out Fox’s ingenious steam-powered inking machine, finding the head and the black cartridge to set up for the outline. “Wouldn’t be quite righ’ o’ me to kill you after you saved my life, Chari.”

Joan looked over the placement, gave a firm nod of her head to show her approval of placement the vampiric healer would take a long drink from her tea, and once Leo pulled out that strange-looking machine, she'd give him a questioning glance. "What I had researched the tools was a sharpened bone or metal needle or needles. A small tapping hammer is used to hammer the needle into the flesh over and over again. That there is new, yes? It will do the same thing as the old poke and hammer process?" She figured he wouldn't try to kill her, but still, there was that underlying thought and fear, as he once said their races were once at war against each other. "Yeah, I figured that. Okay, *deep inhale of breath, an exhale follows.* let's rock it out."

Leoxander paused in his preparations. “I have those two if that’s what you prefer, but the detail won’t be as crisp. Typically use those for rites, brands, and clan.” He had one faded on his wrist from days when the Cabal was alive and to be feared. “It’s quicker, a bit less painful. Bes’ o’ the best made this.” It had ‘Silver Fox’s mark carved in the side of the handheld tool. “I’d ask Lora to play for you but she’s on her mission. Swear she’s got some healing goin’ into those notes of hers.” Regardless, there was a calm atmosphere, no fire in the hearth just the cooler afternoon air breezing through. Regardless of her questions, he wiped some of the lines a little less bold and hit the foot pedal that was an easy adjustment - the man played the drums, so keeping that steam pressure going was a rhythm in his own mind. He touched the needle to her skin lightly at first to get her used to the heat and pressure, then went to work on the outline unless she stopped him.

Joan winched in pain the moment that special mixture of ink bit into her icy pale flesh, "Okay... this is new, and OUCH." Joan said aloud, she felt like jerking her forearm back, but she asked for this, had looked forward to this, so she toughed it out, only the wincing and the tightness around her eyes and her very thinly pursed lips let on that she felt the sting of the special ink mixture pierce her flesh. She'd begin to inhale and exhale, deep inwards breathing through her nose and a strong long breathy exhale would follow in a steady rhythm. "Uh. Yeah, a bard can heal through their music and or song, a combo of the two is often used...but if she can 'heal' through the music she has some latent magical ability." Talking seems to ease Joan's obvious discomfort. Yup, she was having dark thoughts of yeeting Leoxander right out the nearest window...the thought of her picking up the pirate by the scruff of his shirt collar and heave-hoeing him right out through the glass window pane made the vampiric healer snort out a giggle of laughter, at this she's cup her free hand over her mouth and nose as she said to the Lycan with a narrow-eyed stare, "You most certainly did not hear a giggling snort come out of me, and if you ever tell anyone I did so I will highly deny it and tell everyone I saw you in old holey underwear!" She threatened.

Leoxander stopped the second she cursed, furrowing his brow at the mention of diluted dragon blood. That might be Lita’s method but Leo only used that poison in the ring. “If you want Lita to do this with her mix, it’s gonna ache a lot more than this. From hollering to giggling, he really wasn’t sure if she was ready for this and his foot paused. “I’ma wait ‘til she’s ‘round before I go any farther.” He did glance at her skin to see if the small line he’d started was fading, brushing over her wrist with the cool antiseptic to control the burn. “I haven’ added the pearl so it ain’t that, but I never seen anyone react like that. So… yer body might not like the pigment.” Frankly, he was dumbfounded, but not stupid enough to continue after a reaction like that. “This should heal over or fade easily enough. I barely touched through the first layer.” He began to dissemble the machine and dropped the needle head in a jar of the same strong-smelling cleaning stuff, unloading the ink capsule for later. “As for the music. I’ve always felt that, but I d’know many bards that use that kind’a skill.”

Joan waves off Leoxander's concern trying to stop him. "I'm sorry, I'm not used to the pain of any kind, please go on I promise I won't be a big baby about it anymore." She'd stared down at the small mark and let out a tired sigh, she was honest she had not felt pain in a very long time and this all just reminded her in the first place why she asked to be turned into one of the undead. "It was a first-time knee-jerk reaction."

Leoxander shook his head stubbornly. "Tough luck, Chari. We can continue tomorrow or when I talk to Ace, but I ain't riskin' the hand that heals me." He was still putting away his workstation, leaving it in the living room to show he had no qualms and continuing once the dots were connected. "An', well, Lora didn't even have that kind'a reaction, so we need to find what suits yer skin." Leoxander said to you, "I do have something for you, in the meantime."

Joan lets out a heavy sigh as she nods just accepting Leo's judgment call. "I'm sorry I'm not Loravelle, I'm a completely different person and this is my first time being tattooed." She'd get up and move to put her now empty teacup and plate into the sink in that very nice kitchen, "Okay, but I don't need anything in repayment if that is what it is, I'm duty and honor bound to offer my healing skills to all those that I come across that are hurt." She'd gather up the rest of the cookies and fudge before leaving the kitchen and come up upon Leo now, nibbling on a piece of that very good fudge to make herself feel better, Joan tended to eat her feelings if she was honest, but shhh that is a deep dark secret she won't share, not even on the pain of the final death.

Leoxander furrowed his brow at her words. “I was jus’ usin’ her as an example. She’s recently had her first…” and second, he muttered in his brain. Personally, he loved a painted canvas. “It ain’t so much a payment as it is a promise, ‘savvy?” Peeling the gloves from his hands, he picked up her tea to refill it, so she had something to soothe her besides cookies and fudge but disappeared into that room again momentarily. “I ain’t a man particularly bound by honor, healer, you know that.” He returned and sat on the other side of her. He’d bandage her arm if it needed it but doubted with what little he’d done it would bother the vampire at all. A small handful-sized object was wrapped in the recycled, thin paper that Lora and her sisters created, but it was just folded around it. “I’m callin’ you ‘Chari’ because of this.” He placed it down for her to take it, a little wary with what she could pick up, but inside was a gleaming, swirling Charoite stone that had bits of black formed into it here and there. “An’ I’ll be there to help you, jus’ as you’d be there to help me.”

Joan paused, her free hand going up to press her thumb and index finger against those icy pale lips as she blinks a few times in a rapid manner once she took the small paper wrap gift, her chin jerking upwards as she fought not to let out a small sniffle. "You didn't need to do this." A pause as she knuckled at the corner of one eye to make sure she didn't shed a blood stain tear, it wouldn't be considered right, not for a big bad evil necromancer. "Thank you...guess this means I can't try to take over any towns with a freshly raised horde of zombies now." She joked.

Leoxander replied with a smirk. “Jus’, not mine. An’ I’d be so bold to ask some lenience on a few.” He was joking right back, but who knew in this world? “Go on, ice your arm up. You can stay here, Simon’s, the townhouse if you want some luxury befitting her grace…” The humor was back in eyes that began to reflect that amber color in the sunset peeking through the windows. “I’ll make sure you got what you need.”

Joan wraps up the gift back up in the fancy paper as she gets up, "I'll take a raincheck. I need to head back to the mainland and up to my hometown. I got a meeting with someone named Iintahquohae. Kas told me to seek her out about trying to join one of the noble vampire houses in Vailkrin. Seemly I can't run around without belonging to the house with the chance of coming war." She'd get up and offer the Lycan a nod of her head in way of letting him know she was about to depart. "Once more thank you and I promise I'll bring my big girl panties next time and not be such a baby next time." With that, she'd move towards the door of the villa. She had a boat to catch.

Leoxander murmured as he stood up with one of those achy grunts. “Don’t mention my name t’her…” He was concerned about Joan’s meeting with Kasyr, but said nothing and filed it away for information by now. “Please do.” He nudged her as he headed back to the bar to refill his drink. He would be heading out to meet Loravelle after Joan was on her way.