We are not alike.

The sounds of a needle buzzing floated through the room like an actual insect flying on brittle winds. The melody of the steel meeting flesh was like an orchestra all on its own as the sharpened tip made little pricks onto pale flesh to finish covering up the mistakes he’d made in his younger years, the stains of Na Fianna covering his flesh had to be banished from sight as he sat backwards in that chair with his arms draped over the headrest of it, a Japanese Seven Stars hangin’ loosely between his middle and index finger, the cherry ever so prominent in that dully lit room. Another tattoo, this one to cover up the oghams and glyphs that’d been prodded and poked into his back using woad blue ink.

A withered tree was being placed across his back with names carved center of the trunk as if the whole thing was some kind of memorial wall, a picture that tried to cover up the ink and scars that littered the flame haired boy, the outlines being masterfully drawn free hand by the biker behind him. It wasn’t the level of work you’d expect to be done in the basement of a bar, but the old man knew his craft better than what you’d ever think that he did. Danny’d have to thank Johnny for the man’s contact information all over again when he was done. The redhead didn’t move an inch while the needle went over his skin, connecting the ink that was starting to truly come into fruition.

“I wonder,” spoke that raspy, cigarette cured voice. “If you’ve gotten any ink of Na Fianna tattooed onto your skin, Morgan. I wonder how you’ll remove it, or will you plead to your little cult that it doesn’t mean what they think it means, that you well and truly have no allegiance to the group that my alleged betrayal of is the reason that you’re coming out, guns blazing, to fight me over. Will the Muppets believe you, or will they make you choose between your skin and them, just like they made you trade in your dignity, honor, and soul? I’m only asking because I’ve never been so desperate for a lover’s approval that I’d deepthroat their boot to the heel.”

Pause. Beat.

“Then again, you are a girl of mixed heritage sleeping with a group of muppets that house a white supremacist who’s publicly defended a piss fetish among them, so who knows what you’re willing to swallow.”

Danny brought that cigarette up to his lips and inhaled that carcinogenic smoke once more, savoring it only to blow it out to the side before those light colored eyes focused on the camera.

“I expected more from you. A little oath driven warrior coming to avenge her teacher, slay the monster, and bring honor to herself for the sake of her order. Instead, she’s forsaken that order, and crawled back to her pile of muppets like a desperate bitch in heat because being good to her word was just too hard for her. When I left Na Fianna, at least I did it for a bigger reason than to appease a group of people who only have a personality when a fist is shoved up in them from behind. I want to burn them down for what was done to me, you wanted to leave because you couldn’t hack being anything more than someone else’s play thing.”

Sneering, the ginger looked unimpressed.

“For all you say about Sam Tolson, at least the broken down Knight doesn’t change who she is for whatever group she’s around. Did you hear me? You have less integrity that the woman that you can’t seem to shut the fuck up about, Payne. It’s almost as if you try to find the worst people that you can just so you can scream ‘look at her, instead of me! See how awful she is? I’m not that bad’ when in reality? Aye, you’re just as bad, because I’ve never seen one of the women that you’re oh so happy to hang out to dry decide that they wanted to sell what was left of their soul to be part of the very definition of sad.”

Making an ‘ach’ sound, he released a pent up sigh.

“I was hoping that someone who had been under my brother’s tutelage would provide a challenge, after all, you certainly stepped up to fight in Union Battlegrounds. That should mean something, that should mean that you’re tired of succeeding in places like Hybrid, and NFW, but we all know that should be, rarely equals up to what is. Trust me, Love, after I get done putting my boot to your oblong head? You’re going to run right the fuck back to the ponds you raised yourself out of so fast that it’ll be as if you never deigned to leave them. I’m quite sure that you’ll even double down on it all and join the Shieldmaidens, if they’ll be so gracious as to have a two faced cunt that’s adept at speaking out one side of her mouth about loyalty while gurgling the piss from her masters in the other side.”

The trunk was finalized on his back, the impromptu memorial plaque that was as simple as names carved into a tree. The names were readable, but probably wouldn’t mean much to anyone who read them outside of a select group of people. Danny knew who they were though, and that’s all that mattered to him. They were names worth honoring, worth showing to the rest of the world. They were names that he wanted to carve into Morgan’s own flesh, but that wasn’t a sentiment he was ready to vocalize just yet.

“I appreciate your gallantry, your expressions of what you’d do if and when we meet, but had I not been pulled off of you? I’d still be picking what used to be your throat out of my teeth. Now? Instead? You lived long enough to not be a name on a memorial wall in Northern Ireland and instead, you’re going to live out as a black mark on my idiot brother’s name. You did him proud, didn’t you? Telling him you’d live up to his expectations. I bet you even told him you’d one day shoulder the weight he does now, but instead you folded from the shadow he casted because someone got offended that someone said mean things. What did you think those oaths meant, Morgan? I know what they meant. I have dead friends because of them. You and I? Are not the fucking same. The two of us have drastically different versions of the word sacrifice means. I stepped away from my family, my safety, and my image to do the right thing. You? You couldn’t even stop dating a control freak and a nazi.”

Pause. Beat. He shook his damned head.

“You hate to see it, really. If Na Fianna didn’t deserve a death knell for what it’s done, it surely fucking does for people thinking that you’d amount to anything more than a second string bed warmer in the second coming of the Cornett family.”

Finally, as the tattoo artist moved to stand, he clapped a massive, gloved, hand on Danny’s shoulder to let him know that he was taking a break. Danny just nodded over his shoulder before looking back to the camera, staring into it as if he could see Morgan Payne.

“You’re the daughter of an alleged legend who never mattered to anyone outside of his own sphere of influence. You’re the member of a family that never seems to be relevant unless you’re in NFW. You’ve proven to be nothing more than an ugly little flower who wilts under real pressure, so if nothing else, you’ve lived up to your family legacy. My family legacy? It’s written in the blood of our enemies; and even though the lot of them want me dead and buried, I exist, I thrive. I’ve faced some of the best in this industry already. I’ve exposed pretenders for what they are, for who they are. You?”

He finally sat up properly, fingers resting on the top of the chair’s back.

“You’re just the butt of a fucking joke that no one wants to laugh at anymore because of how sad it is.”

With that, he got up to his feet, shrugging those shoulders to get feeling back in them.

“I have no love for my brother or his sentimentality when it comes to the weak. Better than you become a cautionary tale for those who can’t let go than ever try and embarrass your family further by trying to stand up to your betters, Morgan.”

Pause. Beat.

“You've had your fairy tale, Payne. Now it’s time to wake up and face the grim fucking fable that’s going to end your story permanently.”

He flicked that cigarette at the camera, making his exist as the scene faded out.