Of Tattoos and Sigils

by OneWhoSeesOnlyDarkness

Seraphina "Era" Grey was a college student when the organization known as Typhon kidnapped her and turned her into the assassin known as Sigil. Fast forward 40 years, now she is an ex-assassin and ex-agent of SHIELD living a normal life. But Typhon has reemerged and the Avengers need her help. (I only own Sigil and Typhon, everything else belongs to Marvel. Possible Romance later)

2. Chapter 2

Era touched the black spandex stretched over armor with a soft reverence before pulling the costume from the box that had been its home for the past three years. She put it on and looked in the mirror.

She wore a tight turtle-necked shiny black spandex crop top with a bottom edge that tapered down to a point a few inches above her belly button. Her low riding spandex pants were similarly black and shiny. She wore a dark red belt with black pouches on it. On her hands was a pair of tight black spandex fingerless gloves. Over all that, she wore a mostly black coat. The coat was armored on the shoulders and upper arms and had three spikes down the upper arm. The sleeves were the same dark red as her belt, each broken by three black rings placed from the elbow down. The coat was as long as a trench coat but it reached the bottom of her butt, then split off into many strips that created a many-tails effect. On her feet she wore a pair of black combat boots with dark red laces and she had her hair tied back into a ponytail. She had put on makeup; black eye shadow and eyeliner with dark red lipstick.

Era hesitated, than pulled a tiny paintbrush, no more than three inches long, and a small container of black liquid out of the pouches on her belt. She stripped off her left glove, pushed up her sleeve, and sat down at her desk, setting to work.

When she was finished, there was a pair of wings painted into her skin. She placed the supplies back in her pouch and looked around the apartment that had been her home for the past few years. She turned and left.

When Era reached an abandoned area of the city, she pulled a dagger from a holster in her boot and slit open her thumb. Once she was sure the wound was bleeding sufficiently, she sheathed the dagger again and rubbed the bloody thumb over the wings, which didn't smear despite its still wet appearance. The tattoo-like thing glowed red and it seemed to absorb the blood. Then a rippling pain tore through Era. She had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out. The pain subsided and Era looked back to see the silhouette of a pair of black bird wings on her back. She flexed her muscles and watched the wings stir and give a weak flap. Contented they would work, Era tensed and jumped up, the wings carrying her into the sky.