Black linework tattoo of the Millennium Falcon drawn as a technical blueprint with dimension lines, split across the centre of the image on a limb.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Millennium Falcon blueprint on a limb

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows the Millennium Falcon from above, drawn as a technical blueprint with panel details, turrets and dimension lines. The fine, even black outlines are shaded in places on the cockpit and engine areas, and the design is split down the middle of the photo. The ink is black and grey on a plain skin background against a black surround.

Fine line Other Spaceship

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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 drawing came through my lane folded into eighths, the way men fold things they have carried in a pocket for years. I opened it on the steel counter under the strip light, and the ship looked up at me from above, its rings and gun housings laid out in fine black ink, every panel numbered in a small, patient hand. Dimension lines ran off the edges like fence wire. Someone had shaded the cockpit so it looked lived in.

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The man who owned it was called Abel Orrin, and he had a passport that said he was sixty-three and a face that said he had not slept since the spring. He told me his brother had drawn the ship at a night shift in a hangar near Harwick, from memory and a borrowed ruler, and that the ship had been broken up before either of them was grown. I asked what it was for. He said it was a certificate of ownership and that he would not let me keep it, which I had not asked him to do.

I checked the scale bar against the manifest, as I am paid to do, and it did not agree with the paperwork by a metre and a half. Then I saw the note in the bottom corner, written backwards in the same hand as the panel numbers: returns to this side, mind the lamp. Orrin's face did something I had not seen a face do at a barrier before. I stamped the drawing cleared, folded it back along its old creases, and gave it to him. He tucked it inside his coat, and I watched the lines of the ship disappear against his chest, the turrets last.