Black and grey realism arm sleeve on a man's upper arm and forearm, showing a skull, a feathered wing, smoke and scrollwork.

Black and grey skull and wing arm sleeve

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A tattoo sleeve covers the upper arm and forearm of a man in a black vest, with a feathered wing at the shoulder and a large skull at the centre. Smoke, swirling scrollwork and a chess piece fill the gaps down to the wrist. The shading is smooth and detailed in black and grey, with strong highlights on the skull and wing against a blurred studio background.

Realism Upper arm Forearm Skull Wing Smoke Scrollwork Sleeve

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The game had been running since the church clock struck eleven, and Mrs Ottoline Vane had not yet moved her bishop. Across the board, in the candlelit back room of the Lantern Tavern on Gallow Stair, the stranger drummed two long fingers on the oak and waited with the patience of a man who had never once been in a hurry. His clay pipe sent smoke toward the rafters, and the smoke unspooled into curls that looked, if she squinted, like the scrolled iron gates of a churchyard.

Keep reading

"Your move, madam," he said. His voice was dry as a page turned in an empty library.

She had not come for the game. She had come because her brother had wagered his boots, his watch and finally his name against this man, and had woken the next morning unable to recall any of them. Ottoline meant to win back at least one. She slid her knight forward and felt the room lean with her, the way a ship leans when the wind finds the sail. Behind his chair, the shadow of a wing stretched up the wall and did not match the man's shoulders.

They played until the candle guttered. When she finally trapped his king against the edge of the board, he did not protest. He only laughed softly, lifted his pipe, and let the last of the smoke drift over the pieces like a veil. By dawn the tavern was empty and the board held a single white pawn, standing alone on the square where her king had been, and the windowsill beside it was damp with the smell of tobacco and rain.