Colour tattoo across the upper chest showing a girl in a blue dress standing between two armoured figures who hold a long pole, one in grey and one in red.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three figures tattooed across a chest

Chest · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo covers the upper chest with three full figures arranged in a row. A girl in a blue dress stands at the centre, flanked by two armoured figures in grey and red who grip a long pole that stretches across the design. The outlines are clean and the shading is soft, with red and blue used as the main colour against grey and skin tones.

Chest Girl Armour Figure

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The guards at Lantern Gate had been told to stop anyone who came up the cobbles carrying a key, so when the girl in the blue pinafore arrived with nothing in her hands but a pencil stub, Corporal Ashe lowered his pole and said nothing at all. The pole was lacquered ash, as long as a rowing oar, and the two men on either side of it had worn the same grey plate for thirty winters. One of them still had a red plume that had gone the colour of rust in the rain.

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"Name?" asked the red one, though he knew it. Everyone knew her name. She had been coming through the gate since she was small enough to duck under the bar.

"Mary Coyle," she said, and then, because the pole lay between her and the city, she added, "I've only come to ask the clock." The clock in the square had stopped at a quarter past eleven in the year the river froze, and nobody had asked it anything since. The grey guard laughed without much sound, the pole creaked as he tightened his grip, and the ash came to rest against her collarbone. She did not flinch. She had learned that the pole never struck anyone who did not first try to climb it.

She reached up, not to the guards but to the wood, and turned it a quarter in its brackets the way her father had once shown her to open a shuttered window. The two men stumbled apart like dropped puppets. The gate swung wide onto the square, and the clock, after a long breath of brass, began to tick.