There's an infamous saying that people use when they force themselves to slow down.
"Rome wasn't built in a day!"
Mars never really liked that saying because most people forgot the second half, which he found much more important.
"Rome wasn't built in a day, but it was torn down in one."
Maybe that was why he chose to get it tattooed down his arm, in the original Latin of course. It had been his first tattoo of many, though it was the only one on his left arm. His right was a full-color sleeve of the universe. Stars and planets and comets, everything. People said it matched the one in his eyes, though he found that ridiculous.
The human obsession with exploring the cosmos was lost on Mars. He'd seen stars emerge and die, planets spin and spin until it made him dizzy before they crashed into something and became nothing more than rubble, comets fly on an infinite tour of the galaxies until they burned themselves out. It was hard to find the wonder in the outskirts of a universe he'd been born with. Everything was finite, nothing stayed forever, you couldn't save that which was but a mere creation.
Mars had been sure he'd be the same way. An infinite immortal resting in the space between the stars until his existence died with the universe. After all, finite things had never really been his style. It was why he'd taken such a liking to the human phrase.
That was…until he met him.
"Hello?"
The soft-faced boy leant his body to the left slightly, as if it would give him a peak into the other man's head,
"How much is it for a tattoo?"
An unsure smile tickled his face as he straightened his back again, slim fingers absentmindedly picking at his nail beds.
Ollie had been many places and seen many things, countrysides, sprawling cities and ruins of once beautiful civilisations. Still, ironically, the man who stood in front of him was one of the more fascinating landscapes he'd seen. His skin was filled with illustrated stories of times past, a drastic composition to the blank canvas that was Oleander. He almost felt the urge to ask the story behind each one.
Almost.
Mars's head snapped up out of his thoughts so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. He quickly scanned the newcomer, biting back his defensive questioning of how long he'd been standing there. "Ah, that depends on where and how big." He leaned back in his chair, messing with his lip ring as he spoke.
He looked soft, nervous. Though considering Mars didn't see a lick of ink on him, he supposed that was to be expected. But there was something about him that Mars couldn't pin down. Something…weird. Though maybe it was just the scent of freshly cut flowers wafting off of him that was messing with his head as much as it was messing with his nose.
Ollie grabbed the first button of his top and undid it, following the rest down till the shirt gapped just his upper torso,
"Can you do it here?" He asked using both his index fingers to lightly graze the healed scars under his breasts, "just like, two little flower stems- I bought a drawing."
He fished a thin piece of paper from his jean pocket, carefully unfolding it, hand shaking slightly more than he would've liked. Upon the paper laid an illustration of a man's chest, two branches of marigolds placed in the same area he had pointed to early. The line art was noticeably messy, scratchy, but it was clear it had been drawn with some level of care and effort. Ollie lightly held the paper out to the man, glancing away, avoiding his eyes.
Mars took the paper carefully, tracing over the outline of the design lightly with a fingertip. "So a scar cover-up. Yeah, I can do that. But are you sure about this?" He raised an eyebrow at the man, a little unsure. He wouldn't stop him if this was truly what he wanted but… "Chest tattoos hurt like a bitch since there's very little fat to pad the muscles and bones from the needle. Not sure if that'd be my choice for a first tattoo."
Not to mention over surgery scars. Scar tissue doesn't like to be messed with like that. He chewed on his lip. If this was what he wanted in order to feel comfortable in his own skin, Mars was all for it but as a first tattoo? Eh, he was a little wary, if only from experience.
A pit formed in Ollie's stomach,
"I hadn't… really thought that far." he swallowed, fiddling with his fingers, "All of this is really spare-of-the-moment, you know?"
That was much more than he was willing to admit about his current situation, and he hadn't really said anything. He paused in thought for a moment, then finally made eye contact with the man.
"Yes, I'm sure this is what I want. You only live once, right?" he smiled weakly
Mars just stared at him for a minute, not saying anything. Did he think the guy was crazy? A little. Was he all for it? Definitely. He just smiled and shook his head. "I haven't seen someone live by that phrase harder since Ella wore that silver jumpsuit to her sister's wedding to tell her her fiance was cheating on her. Got into a fistfight with the bastard, oh it was a mess. Seriously, you should've seen it, she would've gotten kicked out if she hadn't won. I would know, she brought me as her plus one. Me! Oi, I thought she was gonna drag me in there with her."
Mars couldn't help but laugh at the memory. The 70s had been a time. He stood from his chair, flicking his hair out of his face as he motioned for Ollie to follow him back. "You got a name, kid?" Kid. He had to stop doing that. It was gonna get him in trouble one of these days.
He blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden spiel,
"Um- Oleander. Like the flower." he paused,
"My name is Oleander."
Ollie slipped into the back of the shop, bright lights burning his eyes slightly. He adjusted to the lamps before admiring the different pictures adorning the wall. Frames of what he assumed were clients sat neatly in a grid pattern, the newer ones from a week ago, and ones that went as far back as the 80s. Must be a family business, he hummed to himself, eyes studying the grainy texture of the older images.
"Oleander. How pretty. Do you mind if I call you Ollie? As pretty as the name is, it's a bit of a mouthful and I don't wanna stumble every time I try to talk to you." He chuckled, readjusting one of the pictures of one of his first clients before settling onto his rolling chair and giving it a spin.
"I'm Mars, by the way. Forgot to mention that. Yes, like the planet. No, that wasn't the intention. My mother was obsessed with mythology and wanted to give her son a strong name but Ares seemed a bit on the nose so she went with the Roman translation, Mars. She'd call me Tyr occasionally since she absolutely adored Norse mythology."
"Yes, Ollie's fine," he gave a sort of squished, closed mouth smile, awkwardly climbing into the chair. He actively chose against bringing up the use of past-tense with his mother, though he'd hesitantly admit it did pique his interest slightly.
"Mars is a nice name, I love space and stuff." He scrunched his nose abit at the statement, internally scolding himself for the nervous small talk. He leant back in the chair and pushed his shirt a few more inches open then it was before, considering he had completely forgot to button it up before.
"So-um, how does this work exactly?"
Mars began prepping his materials, making sure to keep the picture well away from any ink. "Well, first there'll be a stencil made with a temporary ink so that we can make sure the placement and size are right, it looks okay, all that fun stuff. Then we get you prepped and give the tattoo. It's really not that complicated of a process."
He shrugged, taking another once over of Ollie. He seemed kinda…jumpy. Though maybe that wasn't the right word for it. He was nervous for his first tattoo too so it wasn't like he could blame him but this was different. He just couldn't place it, like he couldn't place a lot of things about this guy. Huh…weird.
"I see. Well, whenever you're ready." Ollie squirmed slightly under the mans gaze,
Was it that obvious there was something wrong with him?
He didn't think he looked too bad, maybe the bags under his eyes and the obvious everyso often stiflied yawns gave him away.
The cool air in the shop was a nice contrast to the burning heat that had surround him outside. If it wasn't for the blinding ceiling lights, he might've thought it'd be cosy.
Mars snapped on a pair of black nitrile gloves and got to work. He laid the drawing out, ready to make his stencil before pausing for a second. He chewed on his lip before looking back over at Ollie. "Do you mind taking the shirt off? I know it's a little cold in here but it'll be easier to work without it and I don't want to get ink on it. It seems like such a nice shirt, I can't be staining it."
Don't make it weird, don't make it weird, you've had countless shirtless people in your chair before why are you suddenly being so weird about this one guy? Get it together Mars, you're acting like some rookie. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, like that would bring him back into focus.
Ollie nodded slowly before carefully slipping his shoulders out from the patterned shirt, scrunching it up and tugging it into his lap. He leant back into the chair once more and held his chin upwards, giving Mars more access to his bare skin. Squinting his eyes lightly, he let his body melt carefully into the leather chair.
Sure, he was nervous, but he's been nervous most his life, so whats so different now? Why now did his stomach turn when the older man lightly placed his fingers along the scar, pulling on the skin ever so slightly? Why now did his mouth feel dry as the rubber material of the gloves gripped to the thin see-through hairs the lined his body?
Mars ran his hands lightly over the scarred skin, just trying to get a sense of scale as his mind started to wander again. I know these kinds of scars. They look old but he doesn't seem much older than me. Wonder how long it's been. "Why Oleander?" He just about slapped himself. What kind of question is that? Let the guy have his name, dammit!
"I-I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I just meant, what made you pick it? Just a love of the flower or is it something more?" I mean, if the overwhelming smell of roses and lavender doesn't give it away, I think you have a thing for flowers. But it's…nice. I don't mind it.
Ollie's lips quivered upwards,
"Yeah, flowers basically," he whispered,
"Babaanne used to have an Oleander bush in her garden, and we were never allowed to touch it 'cause of how poisonous it was,"
he took a deep breath as cool gloves grazed his skin once more,
"The flowers were always so pretty, but I couldn't have it, no matter how much I wanted it-" he stuttered over his next words,
"Sort like- how I felt about myself. No matter how much I wanted to be different, it was always going to be out of reach."
Ollie's lips quivered, this time downwards.
"Well, considering you're sitting here getting what you're getting, I don't know if I agree with you on that part." Mars offered a half smile, rolling himself back over to the drawing to reorient things in his head. "Babaanne, that's…Turkish, right? I'm rusty with my translations so excuse any inaccuracies." He chuckled. He'd watched the dawn of language, of course he knew all of them. But the being rusty part was true, he hadn't used his extensive language knowledge in almost a century.
"Why marigolds then? Why not oleanders? I mean, I understand wanting to use something that comes on a stem like this, but if it holds such significance to you, why not use it?"
"Yes, it's Turkish, I lived in Turkey till I was five, and then we moved out to the states for some reason. It means 'father's mother'."
Ollie lifted himself off the seat slightly with his hands, before plopping back down again. He wasn't much of a talker, especially to strangers, but something about this man made him wanna reciet poetry to an audience of gods,
"Well, to be honest, I chose marigolds for a few reasons, but mostly because I thought it might be weird to have something im named after tattooed on my skin," He smiles wryly,
"But I think that might've been me overthinking. It's okay though, I love marigolds too, they have such interesting symbolism."
Mars just shrugged with a slight smile. "To each their own I suppose. Can't say the same for myself though." He pulled up his right sleeve to expose the full galaxy on his arm. "I made sure to have Mars specifically put in there. Not entirely sure why since, again, that's not the reason I was given the name but eh, I thought it looked cool." He pointed out the small red planet just a few inches above his elbow.
"Though I can understand the symbolism point. People always get really confused when they see I have a full sleeve down one arm and then just a singular tattoo on the other." He pushed up his left sleeve to expose the old English font of the quote he had decided to make his life. "Yes, it's in Latin. Yes, I'm that much of a nerd."
Ollie smirked,
"Latin's a nice language, but it's kinda hard for me to understand. So many words that mean so many different things, I have a hard enough time with English as it is."
He turned his eyes from Mars' face to the tattoos littering his arms. He noted the different swirls and stars that painted his skin, then blinked a few times after they started moving,
"What made you get into tattoos?"
Mars sat and thought for a second before answering. It'd been so long since he heard that question, he'd just about forgotten the answer. "Because I find something poetically ironic in wanting to immortalize something in something finite. The human body is so fragile and soft, yet we brand our skin with words and images in hopes of making them last beyond our feeble memories or bodies."
He had to bite his tongue to avoid saying too much. It was…mostly true. The only thing that wasn't was the "we" in his statements. He wasn't human, never considered himself to be. But it was true, he found the motive behind tattoos absolutely fascinating. "But the heart is a fickle thing. To want to remember something beyond what the mind is capable of. I find it fascinating, truly."
"I never really thought about it like that," he hummed.
"I always see it more as like, a decoration, I guess. Like pretty pictures to make you sorta think a bit, but you're right, most tattoos are reminders of times past."
Ollie watch as the man brandished a small pencil, for what he assumed was the stencil. He turned his head to the left slightly and spotted a mirror, scanning his dishevelled looks. He hadn't really given himself much time to get prepared for this, he had left work in a hurry just to come to this little shop, one he passed every day on his way to work, for a tattoo he wasn't even thinking about yesterday. It had all happened a lot faster than he had planned.
Mars worked on the stencil, pointedly not thinking about the warmth of Ollie's skin under his fingertips as he did so. "So, Ollie my mysterious customer, tell me about yourself. Cause right now I've got a hodge podge of information. You're Turkish, you had gender-affirming surgery I'm gonna hazard a guess and say…at least a year ago? If the healing is anything to go by, that is. And you smell like a garden so I assume you work as a florist or something dealing with a lot of flowers. Or I'm totally wrong and you just like really heavy floral perfume. Who knows."
He flashed a quick smile before turning back to his work. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind it. It's just like this wall of fragrance. Though, to be fair, it's a lot nicer than some of the other clients that have walked through that door there. I'll take flowers over charcoal and sweat any day."
Despite his best judgement, Ollie let a small giggle pass through his lips,
"Um, my names Oleander, but you already know that. Im 20 years old, I was born in Turkey but I've spent most of my life in Spokane. I work at a florist just down the road, the one owned by that old, grey lady at speaks like she has pizza dough in her mouth-" he grinned,
"And uhhhh- I've always wanted a dog, but it feels irresponsible to get one now, I think." he paused,
"Or a cat."
"Oh, I have a cat! He's the shop cat! Sweet little thing. Sassy little shit but I adore him. He's around here somewhere, probably asleep on the windowsill in my office." He glanced around to see if he could catch sight of the black cat he'd taken in but the creature was nowhere to be found.
"He was a stray I found outside in the rain while locking up one night. Scared the shit out of me, lemme tell ya. But now he's mine and he lives here. Named him Crom after the Irish god of death since he just about gave me a heart attack and my last client of the day had been Irish."
