Summary: possibly faster to read?
Word Count: 170
Jane Constantine has all sorts of tattoos. Some are ones that she’d gotten to be the smoky singer of Mucous Membrane. Anything to fit that punk trend, anything to get them all a good shag. These days, the tattoos are more nostalgic. She doesn’t miss those days; she’s a little more practical than that. But still, she can think about those days with a little quiet smile, raise a glass in memory, and all roads don’t lead straight to Newcastle.
Many of them are various spells of protection. One, she’s particularly proud of, is the result of her using a spell to actually absorb a magical artifact, one that repels the impure of heart. The wards don’t seem to work unless they actually attempt to physically hurt her, more’s the pity, but she didn’t expect too much from a dodgy spell like that.
Some of the tattoos, in other words, are window dressing. A misdirection. Some of them are the real deal. It’s rather appropriate, Jane thinks with a smirk.