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Linatius and The Demon Egg of Memories
A Confounding Found Purpose

A Confounding Found Purpose

If Lin had learned anything, it was that tattooing was hard. She had thought she might have a natural affinity for it, and yet her hands ached from holding the lump of metal that had gone from impossibly light to like an anchor over the hours. Her first dozen lines were rough and bumpy, and that wasn’t even mentioning the veritable nightmare that was Cortez’s face. Though that wasn’t the most tragic of occurrences, really. Honestly, she would have felt just as bad had she made the man handsome, so there didn’t seem to be any winning.

Still, after five hours of hard work, with the moon leering overhead and exhaustion creeping into Lin’s bones, she could look upon the tattoo with something resembling pride. For a first piece, it was decent. There were things that she would change if she could, but that was always the way with her artwork. That’s why she never looked at her art when she was done… At least, she thought that was the reason. There didn’t seem to be any advantage to dispelling that illusion. So, she planned on happily maintaining it for the time being.

“It’s about time I get going.” She announced, standing up with a yawn. After a moment of awkward silence, she realized that Grizz had dozed off halfway through the tattoo somehow. While it was ridiculous, Lin couldn’t exactly blame him, she felt the same tiredness he must have. The exhaustion was so intense that her vision began to wobble, everything in the room distorting and twisting.

Grabbing the chair to support herself, she made eye contact with the nightmarish face that she had etched onto Grizz’s skin. The jagged, uneven eyes seemed to glare into her very soul, lamenting the ugly fate she had placed upon it. Lin couldn’t believe someone would be walking around with this on their body forever. A permanent reminder of her incompetence.

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“I’m sorry.” She muttered.

“Está bien. Estoy Feliz.” The tattoo replied with a wink.

To say that Lin blanched would be to say that the sun rises in the east, that politicians lie and that Chupacabras make for surprisingly loyal pets so long as you don’t live on a farm. It’s just too obvious a statement to hold any meaning. So instead, suffice it to say that Lin completely panicked, knocking over her chair and sprinting out of Grizz’s apartment so fast she bruised her shoulder trying to slam the door open before remembering to unlock it. Four flights of stairs and three city blocks rushed past before Lin slowed in her step, more from exhaustion than choice.

Still, she kept herself from stopping or collapsing (as her body so eagerly insisted she do) and instead walked forward. Panting heavily and wincing from the pain coming from her everywhere. That was good. As long as she was hurting, she couldn’t think about what had just happened.

As she stumbled her way home, a flickering light from above joined her. Forcing her aching neck to tilt upward, Lin was surprised to see the flame spirit from before. She couldn’t be sure how she knew it to be the same one, but she knew. Extending her hand, she took one of its writhing fire tentacles in hand. The heat was excruciating, but it filled her body with an undeniable, invigorating energy.

Walking home with her new spirit friend, Lin reflected on how often pain portended good things, like a growth spurt or hard-earned promotion. And yet, there were some pains from which she couldn’t help but flee.