Colour realism leg sleeve tattoo on a calf showing the Cheshire Cat, the White Rabbit holding a pocket watch, and a blue caterpillar on a hookah.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Wonderland characters leg sleeve on a calf

Realism · Other · Colour · Photo

Three panels of a colour tattoo sleeve wrap around a lower leg. The left panel shows the Cheshire Cat grinning beside a hookah, the centre panel shows the White Rabbit in a waistcoat checking a pocket watch, and the right panel shows a blue caterpillar smoking from a hookah. The shading is soft and smooth with strong highlights, and the green and blue background ties the three scenes together.

Realism Other Cheshire cat Pocket watch Sleeve

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The clock in the Archive of Sealed Hours had stopped at eleven minutes to four, the same as every morning I had worked there, and Mother Ostrander still insisted I wind it before the shutters rose. I did as I was told. Brass springs groaned under my thumbs, and somewhere beneath the vault the old reticulum hummed, feeding the dome its weather.

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The courier came up the lift at twenty past, late as always, a thin man in a grey waistcoat with a watch chain that rattled when he moved. He called himself Hollis and swore he had never once been on time. 'Grand Lacuna wants the Looking Glass cartridge by noon,' he said, flipping open the watch in his palm. 'Noon, Ada. Not a minute after.' I asked him where the cartridge had come from. He only tapped the watch face and said the hour was not a thing one asked about.

Down in the stacks, the cartridge sat beside a hookah nobody had lit in forty years, its bowl gone green at the rim. The painted grin above it had been there longer than the archive itself, and some mornings the smile seemed to have crept a little further along the plaster. On the top shelf the blue caterpillar kept its patient watch, smoke curling from its mouth into the ventilation grille. In nine years it had asked me exactly one question: who did I believe I was? I had never answered. I was beginning to suspect the question was the cartridge.

When I placed it in Hollis's hands, his watch read eleven minutes to four. He smiled the way a cat smiles when the canary is already gone, and the lift doors closed on him. The hum beneath the dome rose to a note I had never heard before. I wound the clock again, because it was the one thing I knew how to do for certain. Upstairs, the shutters did not rise.