How Green Becomes Wood

"It is more trouble than it is worth," Dark repeated, as he often did. Then, he answered Xander's question in a way incredibly typical to him, "Skin is part of flesh. I believe flesh is all of the non-bone parts of a human, and I believe viscera counts as flesh officially, but the internal organs are treated differently than the muscle, skin, and fat which we usually consider to be flesh. Why do you ask?"

I guess if it's so powerful, she should guard it, Milo texted back, If it was easily accessible, it may stop working.
 
"Because it's important to know," Xander said promptly. He frowned thoughtfully. "Think skin is its own thing. By itself. It's an incredible organism." He fell silent for a while, mulling over the wonders of skin, and then roused himself again. "Thanks for lunch. It was really good."

You raise a good point! I should go now. See you tomorrow! Xander probably will, too. Alec signed off and eyed Xander. "Maybe we should cut back a little if he's supposed to go to school tomorrow."
 
"I think all skin is flesh, but not all flesh is skin," Dark replied, and after a moment added, "But my skin is mostly ink, now." Really, he was just curious about how zooted his son was. Then he looked at Alec, "We will see how he is tomorrow."
 
Xander turned to squint at Dark. "Huh. Yes, it is. Your body has eaten a lot of ink."

"At least he's not as bad as you were that one time," Alec said cheerfully.

Xander scowled at him. "I'm right here. What are you talking about? I'm fine."
 
"Isn't it your nature to be unsatisfied?" Xander asked.

Alec snickered. "I guess he'll have to start covering up some of the old ones."

"That'll be a job. When can I get mine?" Xander asked.
 
"Maybe instead of erasing your current canvas, maybe you should get a new one," Xander said. "When do I get mine?"

"How is he going to get a new canvas? Buy a manaquine?" Alec demanded, confused.

Xander snorted. "No, by putting it on other people."
 
Xander pouted at that. "Can't I get, like, parental permission or something? I'm practically eighteen. I've been seventeen forever!"

"Aw! He wants to be just like his Ba!" Alec crooned and then laughed.
 
"Xander, I am not denying you because I think you do not know what you want, I am denying you so you do not get stuck with poor quality work," Dark told him, "Although I do appreciate you want to take after me."
 
"I think many people do not wish to be like me, considering I am a tattooed, mentally-ill nihilist who has more in common with Anton LaVey than with the most famous man in the Vatican," Dark pointed out dryly, "but I appreciate the compliment. Anyway, it is nearly June, so you really only have eight months to wait and not a full year."
 
Xander looked at him quizzically. "You want to found a company that calls itself a church with the stated reason to get teens and adults, mostly teens, to give him money?"

"Eight months away from eighteen. That's not panic inducing at all," Alec mused.
 
"He was a carnie who lived in a great black house and whose explorations with the occult gradually morphed into the Church of Satan, it began as a study group," Dark corrected, "but I think you may not be in the right mindset for discussions on Laveyan Satanic philosophy. Also, the aesthetics are excellent." Then he looked again at Alec, "You will be fine, not much changes at 18."
 
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