Work Text:
Ink
The first time he saw her without her paint, it was shocking and grounding at the same time. The shining blue designs had been something that Duck had grown used to seeing when Minerva appeared to him. He’d assumed that they were permanent marks on her body. Some right of passage she endured back on Miralaviniax. He’d been too tired to mention it that first night she stepped out of the bathroom, scrubbed clean, or in the week that followed.
“So they’re not tattoos?” he found himself asking one morning as he watched her carefully reaffix the twist tie around the package of sliced bread.
“What are you referring to, Duck Newton?” she gave him a bemused smile. “Up until this moment our breakfast has been silent. I am afraid that in my current form on Earth that I cannot read your mind to follow your thoughts.”
He took a big sip of coffee, kicking himself for not starting an actual conversation before spouting some bullshit. Being around Minerva always made him feel a little embarrassed, like he was the weirdo alien. Though to her, he was. He kept one hand on the handle of his mug and motioned vaguely to his own head with the other.
“The uh...designs on your head. Thought they must be like, a tattoo you had to go through when you come of age or somethin’? I saw a show on the national geographic channel one time showin’ stuff like that.”
He watched her run a hand over her head, nose scrunching a little when she felt the hair that had started to grow. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, snapping out of it when the toaster lever popped up.
“Tattoos as I understand are very much permanent.”
“That’s right.”
“They are not tattoos.” she said, moving over to the toaster with her plate. “It is a design passed through my family and painted on by hand with an ink derived from a bioluminescent plant. It is for warriors only.”
Duck took a bite of his toast and thought over her words. Minerva brought her plate to the table and sat across from him.
“Traditionally, a loved one paints the warrior’s head for them. Sometimes for battle, but sometimes for cosmetic purposes. As I was the only one left on my planet, I have been applying it myself.” she looked down at her plate. “However, I was not able to grab the remaining ink before I had to throw myself into battle here on Earth.”
“So...what? That’s it then? You’re just not gonna do it anymore? We can get you some makeup. I know I’ve seen Aubrey wear blue lipstick before…”
Minerva shook her head.
“It is alright, Duck Newton. Women in Kepler do not have the same idea of beauty or cosmetics as the women from my planet.” she picked at the crust on her toast. “Perhaps I should assimilate to the local culture more so I can blend in.”
Duck rolled his eyes.
“Now you don’t need to be goin’ and doin’ that alright? You look fine as you are. You don’t need to try and change yourself just to fit in with the beauty standards in Kepler of all fuckin’ places.” he pointed at her. “In case you forgot, we got mothman livin’ in a winnebago and all sorts of other weird shit. You’re the least of anyone’s concerns.”
When she didn’t answer, Duck got nervous. Had he upset her? So much of her few weeks there had been spent trying to get her accustomed to Earth culture as well as preparing for whatever laid ahead of them. He just wanted her to know that she didn’t have to throw away her culture for everyone else’s sake. He laid his hands on the table and tried again.
“Listen...what I mean is like...Kepler’s got a good way of kinda meetin’ people where they are. We’ve got all sorts of folks.” he sighed. “I just don’t want you to think that you gotta change for anyone. Your culture is important to you and if you want to hold onto it, you should. I didn’t word it the best. So I’m sorry.”
Minerva was quiet for a moment.
“Thank you.” she said simply, her smile returning, but softer this time. “I do appreciate it.”
--
By that night, Duck was already researching on his phone. What he needed was called woad. The plant in West Virginia and it was in season. He felt lucky, but then again, he usually was.
Over the next few days, he kept an eye out while he was at work, looking for woad plants that he could harvest the leaves from when the time was right. He marked down on his map wherever he found them so he could go back later.
Duck felt a little foolish standing in Leo’s kitchen tearing up the long leaves with his hands. What if this didn’t work? What if it did work but he offended her? He tried to push away any anxious thoughts and kept focused on the task at hand. He watched countless videos and read articles discussing how exactly to get the pigment extracted. It wasn’t hard, but it was tedious. He smiled when he saw the liquid in the pot go from brown to green to blue. He was actually doing it. He couldn’t help but feel proud. Encouraged to go on, Duck carefully poured the liquid into a jar to let it settle. This took a few days, but Leo was more than happy to let him continue his work there. Finally Duck was able to get rid of the leftover water in the jar and collect the dark sediment at the bottom. He poured it in a pan and let it sit out back of the apartment complex. It needed a few days for the liquid to evaporate.
The days passed, Duck checking on the pan every day after work. He felt giddy when he saw the pigment left dried in the pan. He couldn’t help but pump a fist in the air in victory. He rushed upstairs to his apartment a bit too fast. Out of breath, he opened the door, expecting to see Minerva on the couch. Instead, he saw his fat cat CJ staring at him from the arm of the couch.
“Minerva? You home?” he called, heading towards his spare room.
“Yes, Duck Newton. I am making use of your electric razor. My hair was getting too long for comfort.” came her voice from the bathroom.
Duck didn’t even mind that she was using his razor, the timing was just too perfect. He went to his desk and rifled around in an old coffee cup to find the perfect paintbrush. He hadn’t used them in awhile. Getting ready to fight off whatever they were up against was more important than model ships.
As he left the room, he suddenly got another surge of anxiety. Was this stupid? Was he stupid? He sighed and went towards the bathroom. The door was already open and there was Minerva, finishing up shaving her head. She looked like herself. Well, mostly.
“Uh...hey. I dunno if this is gonna be like...offensive? Or anything? But I made something for you. If you want it.”
Minerva turned and looked down at the tray he was holding. She took it from him and looked at it carefully.
“It’s woad paint. I made it. I know it’s not the same as some special luminescent plant but I thought you’d like it. Thought it’d make you feel more at home, I guess.” he rocked on his heels a little, trying to search her face for any sort of reaction. “It’s alright if you don’t like it, I won’t be upset.
”
“Duck Newton, it is incredible.” she said finally, smiling wide. Duck sighed in relief, rubbing at an eye.
“Good. I was worried you wouldn’t like it and then I’d have to throw it out and I did work pretty hard on it.”
“It seems like you did.”
“Oh, here.” he held out the paintbrush that he’d gotten from his desk. “If you wanna use it.”
She didn’t take the paintbrush, just stared at it almost cautiously for a moment.
“Do you remember when I told you that a loved one usually does the painting?” she asked, still looking at the paintbrush.
Duck felt his face grow warm. Was she implying--?
He cleared his throat.
“I do. I remember that.”
“Duck Newton, I would be honored if you were to paint my head.”
“Well...I would. I’d do it but I don’t know the markings and I’d just mess it up…” he said, mentally kicking himself immediately afterwards.
“My family is gone. The painted lines that they once gave me are a memory I have. You are part of my family now. I want you to paint whatever you see fit.” she looked at him now, her eyes piercing and sincere. His throat felt dry, but he nodded.
“I...Yea, sure. I’ll do it for you.”
They didn’t speak as they made their way to the kitchen. Minerva sat in a chair, unmoving, her back straight. Duck got a small cup of water and placed it on the table next to the pan of newly dried woad. He felt nervous. He didn’t know what would look good. He’d never done something like this before. He dipped the brush in water and then ran it across the surface of the pigment. The deep blue color bled into the white brush hairs.
“Okay, I’m gonna do it now.”
“You will do fine.” she assured him softly.
He started out a little shaky at first, starting at the back of her head near the nape of her neck. He swept the brush upwards, making a soft oval shape before going back for more paint. Duck soon just let go and allowed himself to paint how he felt. There were some jagged lines, but some gentle curving ones as well.
“You’re doing well.” Minerva said, tipping her head back to look him in the eyes.
“It’s actually kinda nice. I mean fun. But you look nice. Uh…”
She just smiled at him, her eyes crinkling before returning back to her original position.
Duck lost track of how long he’d been painting. They stayed in silence until he put the final touches on the front of her head.
“Finished.” he announced, placing the brush in the cup of water.
Minerva opened her eyes and stood up.
“I must go look,” she said. She rushed to the bathroom with Duck following behind her.
“Sorry if it looks dumb.” he muttered as she admired herself from different angles in the bathroom mirror.
Minerva shook her head and reached out to take both of his hands in hers.
“It looks amazing. You have done really impeccable work, Duck Newton. This suits me. It tells the story of my time with you before and now here in Kepler.” She squeezed his hands. “Thank you.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. She really liked it. He couldn’t believe it.
“Just wanted you to feel more at home is all.”
“I do feel at home.”
Duck felt his face get warm for the second time that night.