[While it might be matter of course to listen aptly to the answer to a question you yourself had asked, Kiritsubo's attention on Yasha as she speaks of the meaning she assumed lay in her mark was almost too direct, as if she was staring past the other woman and into something far deeper. Something like 「truth」beyond. But with a blink, as if clearing her eyes, her focus is back to normal as if it had never been anything but, and her smile is slow and indulgent.]

That's a pretty layered tale. It's like the resort knows you better than all the rest of us.

[She has been paying particular attention to the tattoos- or, rather, what many people tended to refer to as tattoos. She did not. Perhaps it is her hobby, she has so many herself, most of them visible despite the blood staining her skin from the pool.]

Longing, hmm... ?

[As if she has taken on a challenge, she muses aloud, lips pursing slightly as she mentally browses her "catalog", years of reference and study and cultural experience that leads her to say,]

I would have gone with crocus... Or perhaps false acacia...

[Stained fingertips brush over her own throat, one of the few surfaces of her upper body actually free of any colored ink. But as she does... her eyes turn back to Yasha, her smile turning a bit sharper. She is leaning closer, the movement encouraging the honeycomb inked on the inner curve of both breasts to kiss in the center.]

Perhaps you'll let me ink you sometime... I could do far better work than some casino artist, that I promise you.