Colour neo-traditional tattoo on the side of the ribs showing a reptile wearing a red hat with a green feather, sipping a martini through a straw.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Reptilian figure with martini on ribs

Neo-trad · Ribs · Colour · Photo

A reptilian character with a scaly red-brown head, green eye and fanged mouth wears a red hat with a green feather. It sips from a martini glass garnished with an olive, and its body is rendered in soft purple-pink fur. Bold dark outlines and saturated colour fill the design, which sits on the side of the ribs.

Neo-trad Ribs Reptile Lizard Hat Feather Eye

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Blue Gannet had three rules pinned behind the bar, and Corwin Teal had broken two of them before the second round. He was a lizard of some vintage, with a scaly red-brown head and one green eye that he kept half-lidded for effect, and he wore the same red hat with its single green feather every evening the tide was high. Rule one said no hats indoors. Rule two said no drinking on the job. The third rule, which Mags had written in her own looping hand, said simply: Don't let Corwin near the olives.

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He was not on the job. He was off the clock, leaning on the sticky counter of a harbour bar in a town where the fishing boats came in grey and went out gold. Inside, the jukebox was stuck on a crooner who sang about the sea as if it had personally wronged him, and Corwin liked him for it. He pushed the straw aside with one claw, took the glass by its stem and considered the olive the way other men considered horses.

Mags came down the bar with a tea towel over one shoulder. 'That's the third one,' she said. 'Your feet have gone purple again.' He looked down at the soft purple-pink fluff bunched round his ankles, the fur he had grown in the cold spring and never quite shed. 'It's the damp,' he said. 'The damp gets into everything, Mags.' She set a saucer of cashews beside him, then, without a word, a second olive on a cocktail stick, which she dropped into his glass with a plop.

He held it up to the window, where the harbour lights were coming on one by one like a row of patient eyes. 'Rule three,' he said. 'I think you've been reading the rules wrong.' She went back to polishing glasses, and the crooner, at last, finished his song.