[ Mal watches him, wondering if he's going to refuse after all. But he doesn't, and so he nods, steeling himself. ]
I'm not cold.
[ Why does he keep saying that? It doesn't matter, though. He undoes his tunic, casting it aside, and stands to turn his back.
It's nearly covered already in a full-back tattoo, something between a compass rose and a starburst, or a sun. There are letters worked into the design, though in no language Gabe could read even if his tech lets him pick them out. But there's a blank space at the top of his shoulders, above the tattoo, and that's where Mal gestures now. ]
no subject
I'm not cold.
[ Why does he keep saying that? It doesn't matter, though. He undoes his tunic, casting it aside, and stands to turn his back.
It's nearly covered already in a full-back tattoo, something between a compass rose and a starburst, or a sun. There are letters worked into the design, though in no language Gabe could read even if his tech lets him pick them out. But there's a blank space at the top of his shoulders, above the tattoo, and that's where Mal gestures now. ]
Up there.