Black and grey realism tattoo of a skull with a money bag, banknotes, diamonds, stars and music notes on the upper arm, shown from three angles.

Skull, money bag and diamonds on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A large skull sits at the centre of the design, with a dollar-marked money bag, banknotes spilling out of its mouth, and two faceted diamonds below. Stars, music notes and swirling smoke fill the background around the skull. The shading is smooth and detailed, with soft grey gradients and sharp highlights on the teeth and diamonds. The photograph shows the same arm from three angles against a black background.

Realism Upper arm Skull Dollar sign Banknote Diamond Star Music note Smoke

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last note of the set was still hanging in the brass when Vernon Pike slid an envelope across the bar, face down, the way a man deals a hand he has already read. Jonah Crane wiped his mouthpiece on his cuff and didn't touch it. He knew the figure inside. He had known it since March, when the Lantern's booking money went missing from the safe and his name was the only one anyone said out loud.

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'Count it,' Vernon said, and Jonah did, his thumb rough on the notes while cigarette smoke rolled off the ceiling fans and down over the tables like something looking for a way out. Vernon's diamond ring caught the bulb above the bar. It was the size of a sugar lump and twice as cold. 'Twelve weeks,' Vernon said. 'Or the Lantern keeps the horn, and you take the night train home with nothing but your lip.'

Jonah fanned the banknotes out on the wood, the way his father had taught him to lay out a hand of patience. Then he tore the blue-inked figure off the front of the envelope, pushed the notes back across the bar with one finger, and kept the scrap. Vernon's grin widened until his gums showed. 'You're a fool, Crane.' 'Probably,' Jonah said. 'But I can still play.' He lifted the cornet, pressed it to his mouth, and let loose a long, low note that rolled off the bandstand and out through the door.

Outside on Hollis Street the rain had stopped. He walked the empty pavement with the case on his shoulder and the cold stars showing over the rooftops. Behind him the Lantern's doors swung shut on Vernon counting his winnings, and somewhere in the dark the tune kept going, one bar at a time, until the streetlamps died and nobody could say whose breath was carrying it.