theresalwayshope | that's all they really want...some fun...

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that's all they really want...some fun...

It was another loud night for her uncles, and before Tris woke up the next morning Allison had eggs, muffins, and sausage going for breakfast...along with coffee. Lots of coffee. As they ate, Tris mentioned the party in the mountains, which Allison wasn't attending. She fully intended to try and track down Jason before midnight so they could at least have a midnight kiss...

But even girls followed the code: bros before hos. Well, the gender-appropriate version.

"Tell you what," she'd promised, "if the party gets to be too much? Text me, take the tram down from Kagura, and we'll go out and do something nuts to ring in the New Year. I'll do something fun, yet slutty, to make it up to Jason."

The ensuing blush she'd gotten out of Tris had been reward enough, and now, just a few days later, she was out on patrol when the text from Tris came in.

Still want me to come by?

From beneath her hood, Allison grinned and texted her back.

My apartment, one hour. In case you want to change or something.

It was enough time to make it back to her apartment via the roof, stash her costume, get the clip in streaks out of her hair, and find something to wear. By the time Tris showed up, Allison was not only ready, she was actually looking forward to the evening.

"You, me, drinks." she informed Tris cheerfully once she showed up at her door. Hooking an arm through hers, the pair started a brisk walk down the corridor. "You and I, Miss Prior, are gonna paint the town red."

...which basically translated to finding a bar not too far from the building, since she also had plans to stop by and see her uncles before midnight. They were going to be around, just not really busy, and she'd seen Tris chatting with Athos at the party so if he was there, at least they could hang out. Three beers in, Allison wasn't drunk, but she was feeling really good, and Tris was right next to her at the bar, putting her in perfect range to just plop her head on the other girl's shoulder with a grin as she tried to dance a little to the music blaring over the crowd at the same time.

Rolling her gaze up, she caught a glimpse of one of Tris's tattoos...and her alcohol relaxed brain made a jump to something Tris had told her once before, which drew her gaze to Tris's earlobe right nearby, smooth and unpierced.

"Hey!" she called, making sure she could be heard over the din as she lifted her head. "How come you got all that gorgeous ink, but never got your ears pierced?"

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It takes me a second to register the question, reaching up to touch my left ear, where I've placed the little metal wing cuff. It is kind of funny, she's right, that I've covered myself in tattoos but not the ear piercings that seem customary for nearly all women and several men. It seems that even many children have them and that getting them forms some kind of rite of passage.

"Because I just kind of...threw myself into getting tattoos at Dauntless, but I'd never had any piercings or ink before I joined them." I hadn't really planned my tattoos either. My first had come from tagging along with my other initiates to watch them, only to end up with the crows on my collarbone.

"I still don't wear much jewelry." I touch my ear and then my necklace. "This is more than I usually wear ever."

"And it looks good...especially with the short hair, which? I love." Allison informed her with a grin, reaching up to playfully tug a lock at the nape of Tris's neck. "But you should still have your ears pierced, you know? Because you can be dressy, but totally understated with just some studs or something, you--"

She cut herself off, eyes going wide with revelation. She should have thought of it sooner, really...if she stopped to think about it hard. Funny, how a few beers could just make everything so crystal clear...

"Tris! My God...we should do it tonight." Allison giggled, hand dropping to her shoulder. "We could find a tattoo and piercing parlor, get your ears done...it's actually better that way, you know? Not like those piercing guns at the boutique--never mind. Come on, we're getting your ears pierced."

I've never understood how easy Allison is with touch. Though I don't mind it, it's still always a surprise. Less surprising is the way her face light's up the way Christina's did with crazy ideas. I guess what Allison's about to say before she even says it and I laugh and shake my head before signalling for the bartender to bring us water and more French fries.

Why not?

"If I'm getting my ears pierced, maybe you should get something too. Eat up, if they're anything like Dauntless, a good shop won't let you get anything until you're sober."

This idea is insane and I'm already caught up in it.

"Hey! I am not drunk!" Allison protested with a laugh, deliberately putting on her best pout as she poked Tris's shoulder playfully. "I'll have you know I can handle my beer, and I've only had three. At worst, I'm...liberated, not drunk. Hmph."

"Here ya go, some just came out."

The bartender explained their good fortune as he deposited a plate of fries in front of them, piping hot. Picking up one, Allison tossed it back and forth between her hands for a second, blowing on it to cool it before she finally took a bite. As she did, she made a sound bordering on pornographic. She couldn't help it, that was a really good French fry. They were those thick steak fries, dusted with season salt, and they were hot so the inside was smooth and the texture felt really good in her mouth...

"Okay," she relented as she chewed and swallowed, "maybe I'm tipsy." Or getting a contact high, a notion that was strong enough that she stopped to sniff the air more closely for some trace of pot. Finding none, she shrugged and reached for another fry, offering it to Tris with a grin as the bartender brought over two glasses of water to go with the fries.

"You think I should get pierced, or get a tattoo?" she asked, grabbing another fry of her own. "I've thought about it, but I still can't quite figure out how to get all three things I want combined into one piece, you know?"

"Anyone who gets that infatuated with a French fry needs to switch to water," I assure her. Even so, I'm feeling...playful. More than I've been in a long time. Maybe my New Year's resolution won't be so hard after all. Peeta's advice has always been sound, so I've stuck to it, except for one thing. Since I've been here, he's chided me for keeping to myself and not relying on the people who genuinely care for me. Allison is one of those people.

I chew on my fry for a minute, looking Allison over thoughtfully. "You've wanted a tattoo for a while, haven't you?" I ask. Not that I'm exactly a model of planning. Most of my tattoos had been done on impulse. The more time I give myself between the idea and the application, the more time I have to convince myself out of it. My birds had been perhaps a week from idea to appointment.

"You've wanted something for your family, haven't you?"

Allison nodded to both questions, finishing her fry and reaching for another. "I want to combine three symbols: werewolves, the bow, and the family crest, a fleur de lis. Like my uncles wear on the pauldrons from their uniforms? I had an idea for part of it..."

She trailed off, popping the rest of her fry into her mouth and gesturing vaguely as she looked around for something she could use to write with. Finally, she grabbed her purse off the bartop, located a pen, and grabbed a paper napkin. Smoothing it out, she began to draw with reasonable skill, sketching out a bow in a couple of brisk strokes, then the arrow notched in it. As she continued, however, drawing out the arrowhead, it was visible as the shape of the fleur de lis.

"See? The fleur de lis is the tip of the arrow, I've got the bow...but I don't know how to get a wolf in there, you know? It's been bugging me for a while...if I can figure that out? I'd be set."

Unconsciously, I twist my arm back and scratch at my right shoulder, at my Abnegation tattoo. Both of those faction seals are a declaration of the person I was and have become and I understand why Allison's chosen to make those symbols come together for herself. They're her declaration too.

"How did they draw wolves on shields when your family first started?" I ask, thinking of the family crests I've seen in books and at the museum here.

"Reared up on its back legs. Rampant?"

Allison frowned thoughtfully, reaching for her glass of water to take a healthy swig as she tried to place what Tris was saying. She was tipsy, because it took a full thirty seconds before her eyes widened. "Oh! Like..."

She trailed off, frowning thoughtfully as she moved her pen above the napkin, then began to sketch one out beside the bow and arrow, keeping proportion so it was about the same size.

"Like the kind used in heraldry?" Finishing a few moments later, she showed it to Tris. "Like that?"

I watch her sketch, grinning as she draws out the exact thing I'd pictured. "You could even put a shield around it and make it look like a family crest, if you wanted," I suggest, my enthusiasm growing as they fit together.

"Do you like it?"

"It's...oh my God, Tris, I think it's perfect." Allison breathed with a smile. She was about to sketch the shield when she froze...then grinned and instead began to sketch out banners above and below the wolf and bow.

"The wolf's eyes will be red." she explained. "The fleur de lis will be grey, for silver, and instead of the shield..."

With the scroll banners sketched out, she printed the first half of the Code across the top, then she second half below.

Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes.

Even though it's just a sketch on a napkin, I can already envision the lines and colors moving across Allison's skin as if they belong there. The Argents were her family, of course, but I think they behave like a faction in some ways. I understand and relate, smling.

"It looks beautiful." I eat a bigger handful of fries, ready to get sober and ready to make that a reality.

Allison laughed a little as Tris hastily stuffed a handful of fries into her mouth, but followed suit, then reached for her water for a larger swallow.

This? Was the best idea ever. Tris getting her ears pierced, Allison getting a tattoo...

"We should...do something together." Allison decided with a mouthful of fries, pausing to swallow with another swig of water. "The piercing, the tattoo...we each do that, and we should do one thing together. Like...belly buttons! We can both get our navels pierced, too. With matching navel rings. It'll be amazing!"

I laugh at the idea, because who will ever see it? I never wear clothes that show my navel, not even when swimming.

Then I turn the idea over in my mind, thinking of how it would end up being secret. Still a bond of friendship, but one I get to reveal at my discretion. The thought makes me smile and I nod.

"I know the artists at Stick 'Em pretty well. Let's go there."

Allison mouthed the name of the place to herself, then remembered the birds on her forearm. She'd never been out that way, and now she felt a little thrill of excitement because this was happening. They were doing this, and she was kinda tipsy (but Tris was right, the food and water was helping), and it was New Year's Eve.

Raising her glass of water, Allison held it out to Tris for a toast, grinning.

"Let's...c'mon, help me eat these fries so we can go before I lose my nerve." she teased.

After the darkness of the last couple weeks, this already seems to be a better way to start my year. I've gone to the party and given friends--and they really are friends--my best wishes. Now I'm observing the occasion with a new mark and with a good friend.

I grin wide, eating another handful of fries. "No backing down. Or the Dauntless would call you..." I can't keep a straight face, thinking of Uriah's word. "Well they told me that pansycake is a grave insult but I don't think I believe that."

Allison mulled that over with a grin. "No...no, I can see that. Sounds similar to insults from my world. 'Pansy' is slang for a wimp where I come from. Kind of an offensive piece of slang, not as lighthearted? But I like that. Pansycake."

Reaching for another couple of fries, she gestured with one before popping it in her mouth. "I'm gonna have to use that."

"Yeah, but it sounds a little too ridiculous to be a grave Dauntless insult." I try to mimic the gravity that Uriah had carried, like it had really been something dire, but I just can't manage it.

"Well, once you have a tattoo, then you can use it. Then you'll be really Dauntless."

"Well, isn't that the point?" Allison laughed. "Dauntless is tough and brave and strong...if you get called something that ridiculous? It's a slap in the face!"

She paused, reaching for another handful of fries and shoving three in her mouth in her haste to eat.

"I fee' mo' sobuh." she informed Tris through a mouthful before she finished chewing and swallowing around a fit of giggling. "C'mon, eat faster...I want this, like now. Hurry up, slowpoke pansycake."

"I'm plenty sober," I assure her, even as I stuff another handful of fries and chew quickly around the mouthful. Giving Allison a close-lipped grin, I wait until I can talk to stand and wait for her.

"I settled up our tab. We're just waiting on you."

Allison rolled her eyes with a grin, but just for good measure she chugged down another three or four swallows of her water as she slid off her stool. Grabbing her jacket and her purse, she pointed at Tris mock accusingly.

"You're such a troublemaker." she declared, clearly not meaning it as she slid on her coat, shouldered her bag, and linked her arm through Tris's. "So bossy, such an instigator...were I not straight and hopelessly in love with my boyfriend, I would be tempted to let you have your wicked way with me. I'm sure that would be a very Dauntless thing to do post-tattooing...wait, did I grab the napkin with the drawing on it? Or did you? Damn, where did it go?..."

"That's what Divergents are for," I say. Though I'm sober, the convivial atmosphere makes it easier to let tjoke slip through. "For instigating change."

Then she jokes about being romantic with me and I try not to turn too obviously red. It's just as well she's happily taken because there's no way I could pass myself off as someone experienced.

Luckily, I have the napkin. "Got it, right here."

Allison could all but see the desire to blush in Tris's face, and it only made her giggle, despite her worry for the design...worry Tris promptly assuaged by assuring her she had the drawing.

"My hero." she grinned, tugging her towards and out the door. "Lead on, Macduff...I don't actually know where this place is, so steer me forth into your den of inequity and sin. Maybe I'll get a tramp stamp, too. Then I'll be a real woman of ill repute."

"Mac-who?" I echo, filing away yet another reference I don't know. No matter how much I hear or read, there always seems to be infinitely more to learn.

"And why do they call them that anyway?" Tobias' tattoo had extended into that area and many other Dauntless had expressed admiration for that expanse of back as a good canvas.

"Macduff...look for a play called Macbeth." Allison explained, grinning as they emerged from the bar and started down the street. "And they call it a tramp stamp because, in my world, lower back tattoos are thought of as being cheap looking. It's a stereotype that they're popular among skanky girls, girls who sleep around a lot. And...it's true, sometimes, but not always. Hence, stereotype."

"Well that's a silly reason," I say. I may have been raised in chaste Abnegation, but I know plenty of other factions engage freely in themselves, with or without tattoos.

"And it would look nice on you. The back is a great place for tattoos."

"That's what stereotypes are for, babycakes: they're silly and often ridiculous." Allison pointed out cheerfully. "But you are so not wrong about the back. Tonight, I'm doing right shoulderblade...although damn it, now you have me considering a lower back tattoo for some future date...it has to be a really interesting one, though. It can't be anything too cliche."

I start to say that I think it sounds ridiculous, but then I think about what the factions had believed of one another and then I can't help but think of glass houses and stones.

"It could tie into your shoulder piece," I suggest gamely.

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