They're more than skin deep (Lucy)

[Ivy Takiyok]

Business always got a bit slower in winter. The collage kids were mostly with their families, and they were her best source of business. Sure, Ivy was about ready to stab the next person who asked for a tribal shoulder piece, but business was business and business was good. Mostly.

Ivy didn't deal well with boredom. Resting her feet on her desk, Ivy contemplated calling it a day and cracking open a beer or two. It was past noon, so she wouldn't even feel that bad about it. She had no appointments and it was looking too cold outside for walk-ins. There were a number of signs on the door ('Come on in, we have heating!', because people here were wimps about the cold) that still said open though.

She'd give it another hour. Maybe she could go over inventory again, write a shopping list...

Yawning, the artist ran her fingers through her teased up black hair and adjusted her halter top before looking around. Her eyes narrowed as she searched for some tiny imperfection she could waste the next ten minutes taking care of it. There were at least four new flecks of dust on the frame of one of her paintings. She could dust...

Ew.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy took pride in her tattoos. She wore them with intention. She worked with them; they existed as entities, not just artwork. They took her emotions and displayed them. They roamed when they wanted to. It meant that they faded a little quicker, and she had to frequent a professional to fix them up.

In theory, she could do so herself. But that sounded messy. And painful.

As she ventured out into the cold, Lucy layered up with her usual khaki parka and paint splattered beanie. She refused to wear gloves - because they were more awkward than anything else - so she kept her hands stuffed securely in her pockets. Before she walked in, she tapped a few times on the glass. Her hand was already freezing by the time she tucked it away again, so Lucy pushed the door open with her boot-clad foot instead.

"Hey," She greeted simply, hauling the hood she wore off her head. "You got time?"

[Ivy Takiyok]

"Hmmm?" Ivy muttered, glancing up as she heard a knocking on the door. Customer? No dusting! Her day had just improved by at least 60 percent, and she grinned at the girl who'd ben the cause of that. "Sure thing, sugar," she said, standing up and bracing her arms on the counter as she took a good look at the potential customer. Sometimes, her heightened sight made it easier to tell if she was dealing with a kid or just a very youthful adult.

The blast of cold air that had been let in reached her, and Ivy glanced at the heater to make sure it was still doing its job as she rubbed her heavily tattooed arms.

"What're you wanting?" she asked, even as she opened up her book, then looked up and held out a hand tipped with long orange nails. "Also, could I see some ID?"

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy didn't appear bothered by the notion of being called Sugar. Rather, something about it made her find a grin. She was by no means uncomfortable in the place, but she knew everything she wore covered everything else she wore; her tattoos were hidden.

"Touch ups." Lucy replied, reaching around to her back pocket and searching for the apparent ID required. She figured she understood that much, given legalities. "The dark lines are getting a bit faded. Whites probably need re-doing too."

Handing over her ID, she made the move to pull her sleeve back and show the woman what she was talking about. The lion on her forearm looked a little faded with time. "I got it like, three years ago." She explained.

[Ivy Takiyok]

Glancing at the ID, Ivy looked hard for any signs of it being forged or fake: it was what she was in the habit of doing for anyone who looked under 25, and when Ivy looked, she saw everything. Tell-tale ink bleeds, differences in photos, watermarks, nothing was missed and it only took a moment.

"Alright Lucy," she said, putting the card back down, "let's have a look."

The lion was beautiful, lovely shading, and Ivy hummed to herself in appreciation as she looked for bleeding and fading closely, then blinked. "Three years?" she said, sounding skeptical. There was a little fading, and the highlights could use a bit of a tidy up, but it was in pretty great condition.

"You keep it covered a lot?" she asked, scratching her head through her teased up hair as she closed her eyes, concentrated, and opened them again. Her pupils widened to inhuman proportions to take in the extra detail, but three years was... reasonable.

And it was nice to see someone who was taking care of their art. "Alright," she said, blinking as her pupils shrunk slightly, "Lines, and I can fix the highlights up. Take a seat, hun."

Gesturing at one of the red leather recliner chairs, Ivy turned to wash her hands and get her equipment ready. "So where'd you get that piece done?" she asked over her shoulder. "I love the detailing around the mouth."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy caught her sceptical tone, trying not to get so caught up in it. This was the first time she'd actually bothered getting touch ups done in the states since she got here. Usually she waited till she was home - going to the same guy her dad took her to before she left to go to Hammel.

"I was sixteen, yeah." She replied in time. She didn't bother to explain the parental consent story to her; she likely knew that was the case already.

Lucy briefly glanced up at her when she asked if she kept it covered, confusion emanating from her dark eyes. It made her curious, too. "Nope. Just jackets in winter because it's so bloody cold here." But look at her, the way she didn't worry about the weather. She was obviously used to it, so Lucy knew her complaint would likely fall on deaf ears. At least her accent was a dead give away as to why she felt so cold.

Nodding once, Lucy sat down as requested. She shrugged the parka off her shoulders, setting it aside so the rest of her tattoos could be shown. She'd worn something sleeveless to make it a little easier.

"Back in Aus, right before I moved here. I'm up at the school nearby, so." She explained idly, glancing at the markings across her skin. "I usually go back to the same place to get more work done. But I couldn't be fucked this time around to make the trip for it."

[Ivy Takiyok]

Ivy just laughed at the complaint about the cold. "I'm from Alaska," she said, and that would be enough of an explanation. She took the parka as it was finally pulled off and hung it up behind the counter, taking a moment to take in all the pieces Lucy had on her arms. It was an impressive collection, and Ivy loved it when people got colour pieces. Those were her favorite.

"You're australian!" she exclaimed, as the accent finally fell into place. "No wonder you're cold, I was down there a few years ago doing some work, and it took some getting used to, let me tell you." She'd walked around in her bra and shorts for a lot of it, honestly. An easier country to show off her work, but she'd had to slather on the 50 SPF.

Still admiring the ink all over Lucy's arms, Ivy nodded. "That's a long trip to take for a fix up," she laughed, gesturing to one of the red chairs. "Which one do you want me to have a look at first?"

So her new customer went to Hammel... most people there were too young to get tattoos, except for some of the teachers. She's ask about that later. You always needed something to talk about when you were working.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Alaska. Lucy ventured to guess it was a hell of a lot colder there than it was here. Though honestly, she didn't even really know where there was.

"I am, yeah." She replied with a small laugh, especially about the added comment about the cold. "Guess it's just something you, what, acclimatise to?" Lucy asked, crinkling her nose as she thought of how long that seemed to be taking for her. "Ah well, if it's true, three years and counting. Still not getting a whole lot better."

Lucy had to nod along to the concept of how long the trip took. "It's a long bloody trip to move here." She shrugged, never quite feeling comfortable in Pilot Ridge. Much less where she'd actually come from. "Go where you know the works good, I guess. I just don't worry about that much any more." Glancing up at her again, Lucy quickly back peddled in her mind.

"Not that I think you suck, or anything like that." She spoke definitively, raising her eyebrows at her own faltering voice.

Settling into one of the chairs, Lucy idly tapped at the lion on her forearm. "I reckon it's as good a place as any to start. It's one of the oldest, anyway. Not a lot of maintenance work done on it, though." Lucy felt oddly nervous about the admission. She knew how it looked compared to how it probably should have. But this was Pilot Ridge. Weird shit happened all the time.

[Ivy Takiyok]

Ivy had indeed raised her sharply pencilled eyebrows, but couldn't help but laugh as Lucy quickly tried to make up for her slip. "No worries," she said, adopting a pretty horrific australian accent, before dropping it. "Gotta work harder then that to offend me, sweetheart. I'm glad you stopped by, this looks like it'll be a fun job."

Pulling up her stool to perch next to Lucy's chosen stare, Ivy focused on the lion's face carefully. She didn't have to worry about her eyes upsetting the customer if she was from the school, which was the only reason Ivy could think of for an 18 year old australian to be somewhere quite like Pilot Ridge.

"Huh," she murmured, eyes sliding down the animal, "alright. I can do that. Let me get set up." Standing, she moved over to measure out the inks she'd need, as well as pull on a pair of bright orange plastic gloves. Setting up her work station, she sat back down and with a wipe disinfected the area. "Ok," she said, "let's get started! I guess I don't need to tell you it might be a bit uncomfortable, ey."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy couldn't help but laugh at her attempt at an accent. People who didn't have it should never try it. The same would be said if she ever attempted to rock an American one. Or any other one. Australians just... Couldn't talk like anything but themselves. "I'll keep that in mind." She replied, grateful that it was taken so lightly.

Briefly, the ink manipulator furrowed her eyebrows at the sound she offered. She waited while she was setting everything up, comfortably used to the process by now. For someone so young, she had her fair share of ink. And by proxy, a fair amount of inking up stories.

Though clearly, not nearly as much as her.

When she was ready, Lucy offered her arm out to her. "Nah, it'll be good I reckon." She replied, a knowing grin pulling at the corner of her mouth.

She tried to settle her ink, really. But the moment a needle inched towards the lion, his eyes shifted. And he stared right at her. The ink manipulator herself seemed completely oblivious to the fact; second nature as it was.