Lights, Camera, Orc-tion!

9: Heart

Where Avicia was to stab Kahdreg ended up being, understandably, the guest bathroom.

Like the rest of the apartment, it was relatively modest. Well, compared to what Avicia's imagination had been braced for. Done up in whites and pale blues, it was clean and a little roomier than her own facilities at home. With a sink and big mirror, ringed with bright lights. To the far side, a bathtub decked out with a rather fancy looking shower curtain and a plain toilet. No bidet or some fancy bit of dwarven plumbing or golden toilet seats, like her unforgiving mind had previously imagined.

It was strange to think such a placid place would be the setting for knives and blood. Consensually.

Well... one dagger. And hopefully not a lot of blood. Avicia gripped the dagger as she stepped back to observe her work. It took some effort to not let her eyes drift. To not graze over Kahdreg's muscles and scars with her gaze.

Sitting on the toilet lid - since Avicia had no hope of reaching their shoulder otherwise - Kahdreg craned their neck to see what she'd done. A squarish heart made of straight lines was scratched onto their right shoulder, to act as guidelines for Avicia's more permanent mark. She considered chickening out on actually doing the messy work, since Kahdreg had offered to do that bit before she had them sit.

Though, once Kahdreg glanced at her handiwork in the bathroom mirror, they shot her a wry look. She could almost hear the exasperated 'really?' in their thoughts. With their semi-derisive snort at her choice of design, coupled with that infuriating smirk, Avicia's consideration backtracked.

"Sit there," she demanded, shoving the shower curtain to the side and pointing to the lip of the tub. "I don't want this place looking like a crime scene."

"Yes, ma'am." That smirk only grew as they moved. From the sound of their words, they doubted - or knew - it wouldn't get that messy. But, they were humoring her.

Avicia glanced away from them, realizing how intently her eye followed the shift of their body and their muscles. Her brain kept feeding her altered thoughts. Like would they move this languidly in a dimly lit bedroom? She swallowed, readjusting her grip on the dagger. Once she heard them settle, she turned and took a step closer. Her eyes carefully remained trained on the design on their shoulder.

Slowly, she pressed the blade into their skin. Kahdreg didn't flinch. In fact, they seemed impossibly at ease. The tension in Avicia's shoulders knotted a little further, skimming the metal across their flesh, experimentally. It took more pressure, more force, than she thought it would to draw blood. Was that the same for humans? Or were orcs just thicker-skinned?

Though, even once she managed to scratch a line, a mere red droplet oozing from the cut, the orc chuckled, "You need to press deeper to leave a scar. You sure you don't want me to do this part?"

"I can do it," she snapped, glaring up at them with her lips bunched tight. They still watched her carefully, a lazy grin on their lips. Her cheeks burned, frustrated at her own uncertainty.

Returning her attention to the task at hand, Avicia's frown deepened. Readjusting her grip on the dagger's handle yet again, she hesitated bringing it back to the green skin. It was a little unsettling to press a knife to someone's body. Especially with intent to scar them. Things like that seemed violent and hateful to her human sensibilities.

But Kahdreg was an orc. Scars and wounds had a different kind of meaning in their culture, compared to her own. Repeating that eased her apprehension. With an inexplicable desire to prove her grit to them, Avicia leaned forward, blade raised to the design.

The coppery scent of blood soon filled her nose. Though Avicia did her best not to focus on the cuts and the oozing blood. Distracting herself as she worked, Avicia forced her tone to be light and conversational as she asked, "Do you have a first aid kit?"