Black solid-ink tattoo of six small superhero icons in a row on the inner upper arm of a person flexing their bicep.

Row of six Avengers icons on upper arm

Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo is a row of six small icons: a circular shield with a star, a bow, an Iron Man style face mask, a hammer, a raised fist and a dark circular emblem. Each motif is rendered in solid black ink with simple outlines and minimal shading, and they sit evenly spaced across the skin. The arm is flexed against a plain white wall, with the subject's long purple hair falling across the right side of the frame.

Upper arm Shield Star Bow Hammer Fist Emblem

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The ferrywoman at Saltmere kept six tokens in a leather pouch, and she would not say where they came from, only that her grandmother had carried them over the drowned road when the sea took the old town and the glass towers on the mainland went dark. Hesketh asked her once what they were for. She tipped them onto the table: a round shield with a star worn into its face, a bow with no arrow, a mask with its eyes half shut, a short-handled hammer, a grey iron fist, and a dark disc like a hole cut out of night.

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Every spring her daughter carried the pouch across to the farm island, where the families were quarrelling over the well again. Nobody on the island could agree whose well it was, so the tokens were laid on a flat stone and each family took one. The bow went to the archer's widow, who could no longer draw it but liked the shape of it. The mask went to the boy who could mend any hinge in the village. Hesketh had always wanted the hammer, and it went to him at last, though he was too young to lift it.

That left the fist, which the cooper took, and the dark disc, which nobody wanted. It sat on the stone while the sun went down behind the water. Then the ferrywoman's daughter picked it up and held it between her thumb and finger, and held it against the last of the light, and the shadow of it lay across the whole quarrel. The older men looked at the ground. Someone said the well was big enough for everyone.

They drew water that night on one rope, bucket after bucket, and Hesketh's hands ached from hauling. The disc went back in the pouch, and the pouch went back on its hook by the ferry door.