[Time Warp] Neaten Up, Girl (Lucy)

[Ivy Takiyok]

This takes place June 2025

The only thing, Ivy liked to think, that had changed about her as she'd gotten older was the number she had to fill in on legal forms. The shop was still standing, her wardrobe had changed so minimally that some of her relatives would give her evil stares at family events, and on the wall over the counter was a picture of her old apprentice/turned artist, which Ivy had insisted she sign when Lucy had had her first exhibition.

"I taught you everything you know," Ivy had joked as she held out the sharpie, "so remember me when you're rich and famous, lion cub."

It was nostalgic as anything, Ivy had to admit as she looked down at her next appointment and then up at the young woman already on the table with her face down. The piece that wrapped over her right hip and back was a personal favourite of Ivy's.

She'd started first by touching up the banner and the highlights. "So," she said as the needle hummed quietly, "I've caught you up on my news. Is your life anything but weddings now? My sister couldn't talk about anything else."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Really, signing a picture for a friend was the least she could have done to be grateful. Why someone as talented as Ivy had ever taken a chance on a nineteen-year-old stubborn ink manipulator had always been beyond Lucy's understanding, but she didn't like to question it.

As much as her tattoos had never been an enjoyable sight for the matriarch of the Serrano family, Lucy wanted them to look perfect. It was more important than a dress or anything else normal people would have stressed over. Get the ink early. Give it time to settle. Really, it was a like a hair cut for regular people.

Ivy wanted to start with her favourite - far be it for the Australian to deter her choice. Wonder Woman vs Giganta it was.

Leaning forward as she did, she allowed the artist she'd grown so fond of to have free reign over where she started. Ivy was the only tattoo artist in the states who ever got a chance to put a needle of ink into her skin. It was impossible to ignore the way new ink always felt, but she resisted the urge to let it shift and settle. It was distracting to let it dance underneath her skin while she was trying to work.

"I'm barely planning it." Lucy replied in time, "So I guess not really. But I guess so at the same time. Her family are like..." She paused, resisting the urge to wave her hands to find the descriptive manner she wanted. "Crazy. Not the good kind. The overbearing, let's be formal as fuck all the fucking time kind of crazy. Passive aggressive at the bloody dinner table crazy."

[Ivy Takiyok]

Ivy never laughed when she was working, it make the needle wobble and her eyes made even the tiniest mistake stand out. But she smiled anyway. "Do you have one of those fake dinning rooms to plot where you sit everyone?" she asked curiously, "so you can make sure your creepy uncle isn't sitting too close to your stiff mother-in-law?"

She wiped away the excess ink, looking at the result with satisfaction before changing the ink and needle. "That sounds pretty shit," Ivy said bluntly, leaning over and starting to work again. "Why're they involved anyway? Are they getting married?"

Formal weddings were so far from Ivy's scene the idea of them just amused her. So much money for flowers and dresses and food; two of her friends had gotten married at a festival, with over 200 people who had no idea who they were but were all up for the free party. It had been fun, which seemed to be the point.

Wiping again to look at what else could need a little help to make Wonder Woman shine, Ivy tossed her head to move some of her hair out of her face. "How many of your family is coming up? Sounds like you need some back up."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"I don't." Lucy retorted sharply, but she faltered a second later; "...They do." But jesus, didn't that statement about a mother-in-law suit Anna Blaise to a T.

Lucy had to muse over the question for a time. She'd been asked it before, but never by Ivy. And so the response could afford to be a little more raw and, in a sense, unrefined. "I don't even know. I can't understand it, really. Can't tell you a decision I've made, except for the fact that it's gonna be here. Australian weddings are as bogan as you reckon they'd be. Nearly broke dad's heart when I vito'd the whole bloody country as a location." She wanted to laugh at the fact, but concentration denied her the right. The muscles of the back twitched involuntarily enough as it was. "They've only got one daughter. They want it to be perfect. Maybe it's meant to be that simple." Of course it wasn't. But she was trying to find peace within the rapid chaos.

"Last I heard it was over a dozen, if you count cousins." And boy, did the Serrano's count cousins in everything. "They're not much better. Takes six months to agree on a single fucking thing. It's like a bloody never ending war between the families."

[Ivy Takiyok]

Ivy had met Lucy's father before, and it had gone extremely well. She pulled a face as she tried to remember what bogan meant, other than 'bad'. Australian rednecks, she thought. Well, she'd always gotten on pretty well with rednecks as long as they didn't spout bullshit at her and kept the guns in the truck.

"The Australians verses the Yankies," Ivy murmured, narrowing her eyes to hone in on the bold comic book style lines she was working on fixing. "Not the usual theme for a wedding, I suppose you could dress doves up in different colours though." She glanced up and with her free, gloved hand, gave Lucy a pat on the shoulder. It was meant to make her relax as much as it was meant for comfort.

"Families are wonderful," the older woman said, pursing plum coloured lips as she checked her needle. "But they're wonderful because we only see them once or so a year. That sounds like the planning committee from hell, darl."

Another wipe, another close look, and continue. If you wanted to do a job right, it would take time. "So how many of these babies will they see, with your dress on?" she asked curiously. Ivy loved watching Lucy's tattoos move and animate, and she could imagine with all the emotion floating around at a wedding they'd probably be pretty active.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy smiled to herself as she felt at the familiar hand pat down on her shoulder. It did wonders to put her at ease, stopping her from getting worked up about the subject. It was easy to get frustrated over. "Just you wait. They're not gonna calm their shit for the day." She'd have laughed if she could have.

"They're the best when you live on a different bloody continent, mate." Lucy agreed. As much as she found herself missing her family from time to time, it wasn't enough to warrant visiting more often. "Impromptu visits from dear old dad and all."

Seriously, the guy loved Ivy. Half the time Lucy was sure he visited just to hang out with her.

Lucy pursed her lips at the question, trying her best not to turn her nose up at the whole concept of a dress. She momentarily felt her muscles tense at the word. Shit, she hoped it didn't mess with Ivy's concentration. She doubted it would. "Just the arms, but I figured you might as well fix all of them." It was a bit of a painful process, assimilating the ink to move as smoothly. Better to get it out of the way now.

Besides, they were all going to get seen eventually. "Shit," The Australian started, breathing a slow sigh. Anything to stop her from moving too much. "You reckon it's meant to be this stressful?"

[Ivy Takiyok]

"Your dad," Ivy said seriously, "is fucking brilliant." Lucy knew how well the two got along, and just how loud they got when there was drink around. She was counting on him to be there, otherwise she was aware she would probably just end up embarrassing Lucy and her lady friend by chatting loudly to anyone who happened to be at the bar.

Not that that was a bad thing; that was what family did, embarrass the the young ones. And Lucy was family.

Grinning as she worked over the finer details of Wonder Woman's face to clear them up, Ivy nodded. "I can do that," she said. "Let me know if you want a break, or a beer or something." Not many people would want to do all of their work in one go, but Lucy was a tough bird, and knew what she was getting into.

Wiping the extra ink away, Ivy stared at the tattoo to see where else needed some fine tuning. Without looking away, her pupils blown huge in her head as she looked, the older woman laughed again, loud and brash. "Well that's what I'm told," she said, "I've never understood it myself. Why the fuck would you want to make it so hard on yourself, you know?"

The needle started up again as she went over the smaller definitions of the costume. "Like, it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life, or something. I always just figured it was better to keep it small, and then throw a huge party afterwards so people can give you shit."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"Oh yeah, I know." Lucy replied, unable to stop herself from grinning at the way Ivy spoke about her father. "He bloody well loves you too." God knows he'd told her enough over the endless stack of drinks they'd shared together.

She took into consideration the offer Ivy made, nodding her head shortly. Slowly. Not enough to significantly move; she wasn't that stupid. "It's all good for now. You know me." The only difficulty came from trying to control the way new ink felt underneath her skin. The way it meshed with the old. The way she wanted to automatically shift it to get a good, decent hold of it all.

It was always good to talk things out with Ivy. Their relationship had progressed well enough that Lucy knew she could trust her. She was someone in her corner; as unbiased as she could be, because she wasn't a blood relative.

"It's like you read my fucking mind." She replied, rolling her eyes before closing them slowly. She thought about all the finer details - the things that were going over her head. The extravagance of the whole thing. "You better turn up in leather and something with leopard print. Otherwise I'd be crazy disappointed in you." She chuckled to herself, trying to keep the movement minimal. But the thought that followed was worthy of laughter; "Plus y'might give a couple of the Blaise family members a damn heart attack. Best gift I could ever ask for."