Deicide

January 23, 23XX

"Stop moving, or I'll mess it up."

"I can't help it, this hurts." He squirmed a little more.

"Well, it would sure suck the fun out of your birthday gift if I messed it up." Howlan pressed the foot pedal down again, and continued sticking ink in Eden's back.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, by the way."

"Of course, Eden. Anything to get you out of that ugly as fuck trench coat."

"You've got a very dirty mouth for an Elf." Eden twitched again.

"Disgraced Elf."

"Aw, Howlan, you'll never be disgraced in my eyes."

"Shut up, Eden. Otherwise I might just mess up and have to start all over." Howlan pushed a handful of feathers away from the area he was working on. "Can you, like, move your wings maybe?"

"Yeah, as soon as you stop groping them." Eden moved both wings to an upright position.

"I don't know why you want to do this, anyways. They're pretty, there's no reason to hide them." Howlan set a hand at the base of Eden's left wing, working on the tattoo there.

"What if it turns out I'm, like, a disgraced species or something? Or some planet thinks I'm an omen of death?" Eden threw his hands out dramatically.

"Stop moving. Or you're gonna have to pay for the next bottle. Motion-magic ink is expensive on this planet." Howlan pressed down on the foot pedal again. After a few minutes, he finally sat back. "Done."

"Really?" Eden sat up. He stretched his wings out. "How do I use it now?"

"Just sort of," Howlan hugged himself and shimmied his shoulders, "wrap your wings around yourself and set them into your skin. Eventually you'll be able to do it without skin contact, but I think that's the best way for now."

"Right." Eden set his hands in his lap and wrapped his pitch-black wings around himself. He wrapped tighter, until finally they just weren't there. "Whoa." He marveled at his back, feeling all of it. He couldn't believe how normal it felt. "Wait, how do I get them out again?"

"Just sort of flex your back." Howlan bent his arms behind him with his elbows leading, pushing his shoulder blades out.

"Okay." Eden shoved his arms back, and his wings just kind of appeared. "That's so cool," he whispered. He left his wings out for the moment, putting them into the tattoo and holding them there did have a cost. Just those few seconds had left him a little drowsy.

"Happy birthday. Y'know, on Earth you're no longer a minor as of today." Howlan smiled.

"Really? You're a minor until you're eighteen on Earth? How restrictive." Eden grabbed his blank white mask from a nearby table, "Let's go into town? I wanna get lunch." Eden fastened the two metallic clasps behind his head, securing his mask.

"Alright." Howlan grabbed his jacket off a chair and pulled it on.

"And, since it's my birthday and all, it's your treat right?" Eden wrapped his wings back into his tattoo and pulled on a normal-person shirt. It felt odd against his bare skin.

"We pool all our money together, idiot."

"I know, just give me the moment," Eden whined, locking the door behind them.

"Fine, whatever. Sure, lunch is on me. Happy birthday, Birdie." Howlan smiled.

Eden locked the door behind him and stuck the key back into his shirt. It felt good, wearing a short sleeve shirt outside. He never got to have short sleeves unless he was inside the house. Everywhere else, he wore a trench coat to hide his wings. "So, I was thinking maybe somewhere in the town square?"