Scoping for ink

[Thalia]

"Right," she affirmed with a grin, since Rune seemed quite pleased with the identification - though why on earth she suddenly thought to bring it to attention now, Thalia had no idea. She opened her hand to take the sketchbook back, and settled it on her lap. Glancing down idly, the tips of her hair tickling her hands, it was about then she realised she’d drawn the tree leafless. Dead, which hadn’t been what she’d intended at all. Bright and colourful and full in bloom, that had been the picture in her mind’s eye; deep in contrast to the black ring of the snake. It wasn’t the first time that sort of darkness had crept into her work of late, completely unintentionally. Subconsciously. It was troubling, and she chose to ignore it.

"I reckon a sleeve would suit you," she said, adding a few more notes to the page. Her gaze drew back up, only to distractedly follow Rune’s grin and gestured indication of the man hanging about the café. He wasn’t difficult to differentiate from the touristy crowds still milling about the street; mostly because he was lounging against a wall, but also because he was making little secret of his interest in them. The pipe he held was terribly old-fashioned, which was curious, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a grown man wearing dungarees, though these looked like maybe they were working clothes. He certainly had the arms for a labourer. How long had he been staring at them? It wasn’t the sort of thing Thalia was inclined to spot – might not have done at all, if it hadn’t been pointed out. Arbatskaya was full of odds and sods; you couldn’t notice all of them.

She tipped an indifferent shoulder to Rune, since she neither knew nor recognised him. If he was an opportunist – and Old Arbat drew plenty of those – then he was making an awfully bad job of remaining inconspicuous. And if it was a creepy mind game, he’d probably bitten off more than he could chew with Rune -- and that was where her theorising ended, as her thoughts caught up on something else. "Badass pretty!" She laughed at the expression, or perhaps at how prim her accent made it sound. "I like that. You sure you want it on your wrist? I could do something awesome with dragons and flowers."

Extermination; she hadn't imagined that for an answer, but she supposed with hair and make-up like that Rune wouldn't have a regular desk job. It wasn't much in the way of enlightening inspiration, as she'd hoped; not unless Rune wanted to incorporate rats and roaches into her badass pretty. Thalia, at least, would much prefer the flowers. Her pencil had begun moving again, though now she was just sketching various serpentine heads and tongues while she thought. "Oh, just the art-stuff these days. Used to work here, actually."