Chapter Text
Beta’s eyes bugged out as she watched the artist, torturer more like it, literally hammered in the design across Kotallo’s arm. She watched as they held an ink dipped chisel in one hand cut across the marshal’s skin while they beat a steady rhythm against the back of the device. Beta involuntarily gulped knowing that was about to happen to her soon. Her eyes tracked the chisel as the artist occasionally dipped their instrument in the colour they were working on, before placing it back against the marshal’s skin and started hammering again.
She looked to her sister next to her, finding solace Aloy looked just as concerned about it all as well. This whole excursion had been her sister’s idea, but somehow, she had agreed. And between them was their mother who looked to be the only one enjoying the novelty of it all. Probably because she already had a tattoo on her arm, a small little globe, so she already knew what to expect, and the fact she was utterly fascinated by what she said was the old methods before machines were used.
Beta fiddled with the sheet of paper in her hand and stared at the drawing.
Of all the types of tattoos she had agreed to, Aloy had somehow convinced her to get matching sleeve tattoos.
With Kotallo’s help they had essentially taken all the symbols of the subordinate functions, HADES and HAPHEASTUS included, and arrayed them down their arms following the traditional Tenakth art style, with lines still branching out from GAIA’s symbol, that would lie on their shoulders.
There had been much debate about whether or not to include the two functions, considering their own history with them, but considering what they were meant to do in the grand scheme of Zero Dawn’s design, they had agreed to keep their symbols in, but added designs to denote HAPHEASTUS’s defeat, while HADES’s symbol was shattered and disconnected from the whole, a part of Zero Dawn that had been purged and discarded.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Beta mumbled as she found herself inexplicably drawn towards the artist as they continued to work.
“Yup,” Aloy immediately replied, before tearing her gaze away to look at her sister. Her expression softened as she slowly reached out and touched Beta’s shoulder. The girl leaned into her sister’s solid grip, finding comfort in her physical presence.
“What about you? It’s not too late,” she said.
Beta knew it wasn’t too late to back out. She knew this was entirely voluntary. And yet as she looked down and thought about what it represented, what it meant to her, she couldn’t find it within herself to back out.
She shook her head, resolute. “I’m going to do it,” she squeaked out. “Doesn’t meant I’m terrified.”
Elisabet sat down next to the girl and slowly wrapped her arm around Beta’s shoulder, drawing her into a half hug. “It’s perfectly normal to be scared,” she cooed, rocking the girl back and forth. “If you have questions, ask them. Don’t be put off if they find your questions odd. If you want to know something, ask.”
Beta nodded. She felt her shoulders ease a bit as she reveled in the warmth of her mother’s arms.
They continued to watch for some time before a Sky clan woman came by, dropping a large bag she’d been carrying down and met with Kotallo, chatting for a spell while the artist worked. Eventually Kotallo directed the woman towards the redheads nearby.
The gave the marshal a hearty pat on the should before gifted her gaze towards them and approached.
Beta eyed the woman. Her body was covered from the neck down in a variety of designs, all in the familiar black and white colours of the Sky clan. Her black hair, with streaks of grey around the temple was pulled into a tight braid that ran down the length of her back. Surprisingly her was nearly bereft of paint, save for smears of purple across her cheek bones, and hint of eyeliner around her eyes.
When she spoke, it was in a soft, low, dulcet tone, like one would speak to a frightened animal or child. “Which one of you is Beta?”
The girl perked up and slowly raised her hand.
The woman smiled. “I’m Ketinga, I’ll be your personal painter for your first marks.”
The girl blinked, surprised. “But…aren’t you from –”
Ketinga was quick to wave the girl’s worries aside. “That matters not. What matters is you may have concerns. I am here to answer your questions and guide you through everything until your piece is complete. So, what do you say?” The woman offered her a gentle smile, and a nod towards her pack. “Ready?”
Beta hesitantly looked between the woman’s rather imposing form, despite her disarming expression, her pack, and Kotallo who’d been quietly observing the situation before them.
“Why?”
“Because I trust her,” the marshal called out. “She will take care of you. She has decades of experience and has painted many young aspirants through their first marks.”
Beta turned to Aloy, who looked like she was reigning her intrigue in favour of waiting for her sister’s response first.
“It’s your call,” she murmured.
Eventually Beta nodded. “Let’s do it.”
XXXXX
Beta shifted self-consciously in her seat, dressed in only bindings as to not get any of her cloths stained. She looked down her arm, marvelling at the pattern that’d been drawn on onto her arm. It’d been one thing to see mock-ups of the design, but to watch as Ketinga painted the pattern onto her’s and Aloy’s arms and see their idea realized, even if only in stencil form for now, made it all real.
That what she did was real.
Ketinga settled into her stool. Beside her a table was ladened with all her gear, ready to begin marking Beta’s skin.
The woman had been thorough in her explanations, from how she’d take their designs and create the template on their arms, to the process of how she’d draw the images upon their skin, to how to best take care of them arms in between sessions. She took on all of the girl’s concerns with aplomb.
Anxiety ran rampant deep within the girl’s chest, but alongside it was the feeling of anticipating. In a moment she was going to begin the process of memorializing the events of her short life in ink.
The older woman picked up a chisel and dipped it into a pot of black ink. Beta watched as Ketinga gently shook the implement, clearing it of stray ink back into the pot. The girl’s eyes tracked the tool as it was placed and settled against one of the lines on her shoulder. She caught moment and watched as the Sky clan woman place the small mallet against the back of the device.
“Ready?”
The girl nodded.
Beta squealed the moment she felt the first strike.
There was a momentary pause before she looked back to the woman, who sat by patiently until she saw Beta nod.
This time Beta was more prepared for the spike of pain as the woman began beating the chisel with her hammer, driving the needle into the girl’s skin and began the process of marking the girl’s skin in ink.
This hurt. This was definitely pain. And yet there was something else beneath it all. There was something so visceral about her pain. She could feel the rhythm of Ketinga working. She could feel the chisel rubbing against her skin as it traced the patterns drawn into her arm. She could feel her arm starting to throb and heat as the first few lines were drawn one after another.
A part of her wanted to scream, wanted to flinch.
But there was another part of her that said something else.
It wanted more.
Despite the agony her shoulder was in there was something so primal about it that held her in place, something that moved her so.
Tears began to fill her vision as she realized more and more that this was simulation. This was actually happening.
This was real.
“Beta?”
The girl gasped, nearly jumping from her seat.
It took her a moment to realize that everyone was looking at her worriedly, including Aloy who had clearly leapt up from her chair with ink slowly dripping down her arm.
She flinched when she felt something touch her cheeks, only to realize it was Ketinga dabbing her face, and that was when she realized she was crying.
“Are you alright child?” the woman asked in a slow soothing voice.
Beta quickly nodded. She couldn’t find the words to explain what happened, only that she knew that what she experienced was a good thing.
“More,” she croaked.
For a moment Beta feared that painter would say no. The silence seemed to drag as Ketinga heavily scrutinized her, searching for any hint of deceit or a tell that said Beta wasn’t ready to continue. All Beta could do was double down that she wanted to keep going, and despite the instinct to look away she stared the woman in the eyes and prayed she could convey what she wanted without words.
Eventually Ketinga smiled. She slowly settled her hand atop Beta’s and gently grasped it.
Her hand’s felt odd to Beta. It was rough and worn like Aloy’s, but she held her hand so softly, like Elisabet did. It felt warm. She reflexively curled her fingers around the woman’s hand.
“Ride the high my child,” she murmured, and then resumed work.
XXXXX
Two hours.
It took her two hours before she needed a break.
Her arm sang in a way she’d never thought possible before. It was hot. It was sore.
She hesitantly touched one of the lines Ketinga carved into her arm. It stung. But she kept touching it anyways.
A hand gently grasped her hand and pulled it away.
“Enough of that child,” Ketinga gently admonished. With a rag she gently dabbed away the last of the ink before she pulled out a tub of cream and smeared it across the girl’s arm. “Go eat,” she instructed as she work. “Do not wander out into the sun for long, and by the Ten, do not play with your marks yet.” She gently swatted Beta’s hand away. “You’ll have your life to play with it.”
Once the woman was satisfied, she helped Beta off the table and ease on a sleeveless shirt before letting her rejoin her family, who were now just waiting for Aloy. Unsurprisingly the huntress had a higher tolerance and could go for longer.
“Hey,” Elisabet greeted the girl as she approached. “How you feeling?” she asked. The woman walked around and marveled Beta’s left arm. She grasped the girl’s hand and gently turned Beta’s arm back and forth as she studied the lines, eyes tracing the outlines of the various sub-functions Ketinga had drawn into her arm. Her gaze shifted to the top of Beta’s shoulder where GAIA’s symbol was now etched into her daughter’s skin. A feeling of pride filled her heart as she thought how far Beta had grown since she’d gotten to know her.
She glanced up towards her daughter, who was watching her look at the tattoo. “It’s beautiful,” the woman murmured.
Beta gave her a small nod as she also started to study the tattoo, turning her arm this way and that as she studied the woman’s work.
“Is it…supposed to feel like this?” the girl asked.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m…alive?”
Elisabet felt her heart suddenly leap into her throat as her gaze shifted to the massive scar that ran across Beta’s right temple, and her heavily modified Focus she always wore, even as she slept. She’d nearly forgotten Beta still struggled with simulacrum withdrawal syndrome.
She reached out and gently cupped Beta’s cheek and rubbed her thumb back and forth. “Yes,” she quietly said, fearing she’d break down crying if she spoke up any louder. “It’s that adrenaline high people experience.”
Beta slowly nodded. “But it feels…more. Like…everything feels and looks so…sharp. So…in focus. Like I’m…actually here.”
This time Elisabet couldn’t hold back a sob. “I’m so sorry they took so much from you.”
The girl merely shrugged. “It’s…it’s in the past.”
Elisabet shook her heat vehemently. “Doesn’t invalidate what you feel,” she reminded the girl. “What you feel right now, is perfectly fine. It is okay to enjoy this moment. I just wished you got to experience this so much sooner in your life.”
Beta shifted awkwardly. It was still hard to contextualize her mother’s grievances. She knew intellectually she’d been robbed of so many things. But the emotions behind it, she was still learning. She still had so much to learn. But in this moment, with the feel of her mother’s hand on her cheek, and her right arm singing, she was content.
She felt alive.
And in that moment that was all that mattered.