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[h2][color=Orange]Damon Fawkes[/color][/h2]
Location: magneto choas 
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Damon kept his bow held true. He was trying hard to keep his parasites contained but they trusted less then he did. Scales slid around his arm brushing at the edge of his flesh taking on an odd realistic yet not look. [color=orange]”It may not do anything but I’d rather hold this then let the things on my body know. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust them.”[/color] this was the first time he was visibly working with effort to both hold the stance and hold the tattoos. Only three at a time could get out and he could feel the strongest ones fighting to get out first.

Then someone grabbed his bow and lowered it. [color=orange]”.....you tell me how well you’d handle angry animals of ink trying with effort to escape your skin”[/color] he winced. His bow had been lowered they sensed he was no longer aiming. He hisses in pain as a dragon claw suddenly pierced through his arm the claw partially outside of his flesh took on a realistic onyx gleam that became more dull when it reached his flesh and became ink. [color=orange]”....if you really want me held together help me get to that training room....or just out of here.....fast”[/color] when the tattoos behaved he had full control of them except the dragon....and now he barely held all of them in.