<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td> Private for Beast Who: http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=1130Melisande Spinner</a> and http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=1012Maeanu Jethro</a> When: Tria 20th 81381 Where: Terhesian Port, tattoo parlor </td></tr></table> The harsh wind blew up and down the sea side city as a summer storm rolled in over head. Due to the un-forecasted storm the usually dynamic beaches were lacking their everyday crowds and even most of the streets where quieter that usual. This suited Maeanu just fine, having less people to dodge in the streets was always a plus; it also made it harder for someone to follow her unnoticed. True that had only happened one time, but since then she hasnÂ’t been able to stop looking over her shoulder ever 5 minutes and making attempts to be discreet where ever she went. There was a downside though, the cloud cover had caused the city to take on a lackluster look to it, everything was a few shades darker, while anything that was already dark faded to black. She knew it probably made her stand out like a sore thumb; there was no hiding vibrant yellow fur on a day like today. SheÂ’d tried though. Flipping up the collar on her jacket and shoving her hands in the pockets she continued to walk before stopping across the street from the tattoo parlor she was looking for. Its lights where on and she could see paintings on the walls through the windows. She had done her research before coming, checking out a few other shops closer to where she lived but this place had held the most promise so far. It was somewhere she hoped she was able to afford a tattoo. This was all that was really holding her back, price. She had been putting aside money for the past month from what she made working at a bar in the Black Market. Her only loss she had felt in spending less money was spending less on painting supplies. SheÂ’s been lacking a nice blue to work with for the past few weeks. She glanced up and down the street, preparing to go in. 'Okay Mae, put on a friendly face, no need to frown so much.' She was nervous, not so much of the thought of getting a tattoo, just of going into a store and talking with someone, she couldnÂ’t remember her last conversation that didnÂ’t take place with a bar counter between her and someone else. 'Just go in you coward!' With the aide of her mental urging she bade her feet to travel the last little distance to the door, with a slight push she opened the door and walked in. Moving aside a part of her fallen Mohawk she quickly glanced around the inside of the building. There were a few artists either working with someone else or just doing store things, but what her eyes quickly jumped to was some of the decorations on the walls. SheÂ’d learnt that most tattoo parlor will display there own work on the walls and so far she wasnÂ’t disappointed with what she saw. Not wanting to look like someone who was just inside to avoid the wind she walked over to the front counter and waited for someone in the store to notice her.
She hated this apprenticeship; she hated its restrictions; she hated the menial tasks, the barked orders, the glares from 'superiors' that made it painfully clear that she was just a lowly beginner to them. Constantly, it seemed, she was cleaning the messes of others, biting back her impatience and frustration, and carrying on with blankness in her eyes. It was hardly fair -- she was more than competent, and she knew it, and they knew it; yet here she was, forced into this half-job, an apprenticeship too small for her, and she had nowhere better to go. At the same time, though, she loved it: even being near the inks and needles, the equipment for scarring, all this skin just waiting to be decorated.. it invigorated her, gave her the strength she needed to nod dully to Boss and continue sweeping like a bland automaton, while secretly dreaming of her own little parlor somewhere nicer like Aurius. She envisioned earning just the right amount of money to support a modest lifestyle, and she could almost see the minimalistic decorations of her parlor already. It would cater to a wide variety of customers, and there would be examples of her work painted straight on the walls, no need for framed posters or drawings. The floors would be tiled, of course, and the color of -- The chime of the front door's bells tugged Melisande Spinner out of her daydreams and back to the present, where she was not a well-liked tattoo artist, only a stoic apprentice. She managed a half-smile that was more like a grimace at this newcomer, leaned her broom against the wall, and glided across the tiles to greet the potential customer. "Hello," she said robotically. "Welcome. All of the artists are engaged right now, but I can take your name down and request down and call you up once an artist is free. There are some chairs there if you'd like to sit." A pause, and then she added, "Also, each artist specializes in something different and charges different rates, so, depending on your financial situation..." Melisande trailed off weakly, kicking herself inside. Boss said to only bring that up after the customer decided on what to get. Why do I always forget that? "By the way, I'm Melisande."
MaeÂ’s grey eyes were drawn to the thrill who spoke to her over the counter. She did her best to respond with a friendly smile, but she was sure it looked a little more awkward compared to the females. Listening to her talk she looked around and noticed that everyone seemed occupied, she wouldnÂ’t mind the wait, it would give her a chance to look around, see how every one elseÂ’s tattooÂ’s were going. But she didnÂ’t sit down to wait just yet, she listened to everything else she was being told. At the mention of her ‘financial situationÂ’ Mae blushed a little, there wasnÂ’t a lot that made her feel embarrassed, but being around new people in a new place with less money then sheÂ’d like to have made her feel a little more self-conscious then she normally would be. She opened her mouth to say something when the girl, Melisande, trailed off, but she quickly introduced herself. “Nice to meet you Melisande, IÂ’m Mae." She rarely ever gave her full name out, and even now she had gotten used to just giving out ‘MaeÂ’. Swallowing her pride for now, she brought up the issue of price again.“Price is actually a bit of a restriction of mine, IÂ’m not looking for any thing fancy, just an armband around here," She motioned a circle just below her elbow. With no colour or anything. IÂ’m just looking for something like," She started fishing around in her pants pocket for the paper she a scribbled on with her idea, finding it she unfolded it and put it on the table. “http://s83.photobucket.com/albums/j309/morsuaile/Ramath/?action=view¤t=maetattoo.jpgLike this.</a> Just ‘Pavi DjubesiÂ’ followed by two wings in a circle." She pointed to the part of the picture she was referring too as she spoke. She stopped talking now, realizing she had gotten a little carried away. “So um, yeah. Looking on the lower end of the price range."
Melisande was almost reassured by the thill's return of her less-than-perky smile, and she remembered to nod respectfully while listening to the customer -- Boss liked to lecture about making the customer feel adequately listened-to. But she noticed how the thill seemed uncomfortable when she mentioned price, and decided to do something strictly not allowed by Boss: offer her services. It was an odd rule of Boss's -- apprentices were only permitted to work on customers at special request; they couldn't offer their own services, as it would detract from the business of the 'professional' artists. But Melisande could tell that there was no way this girl would get the kind of tattoo she wanted at a price she could afford from the main artists here in Boss's shop. Lettering was expensive because it had to be just so or it would look sloppy and poorly done, and wings were generally considered a pain in regions-better-left-unsaid. So Melisande did something that would have sent Boss into a bulgy-veined fit of rage at the sight: she edged as far away from the regular artists as possible and motioned for the thill to follow -- discreetly -- all the while issuing a steady stream of unimportant facts to deflect attention. "You fur looks like tattoos would show up pretty well, but you said something about no color? Are you looking into scarring? Because obviously that's a little more permanent, a little harder to cover up and all. And you'd need some injections before we could do that; some pain medicine and whatnot. And the risk for infection afterward is -- well, much, much higher, to say the very least," she rambled, glancing back between sentences to make sure that the other artists weren't listening in. "Hey," she finally said, breaking her spiel. "You probably wouldn't be able to get that kind of work from them for anything less than an arm and a leg. But... I could do it for you. Way reduced rate." She paused, her shyness returning suddenly, as if all along she'd been on a different level of thought and now she'd recalled that she was conversing with a stranger. "You'd have to request it specially from Boss, though. And you couldn't tell him I suggested it. He'd probably fire me."
As Mae looked up and noticed the subtle nod off to the side, without doing anything to alter the other patrons she followed Melisande further off to the side while listening intently to catch the reason why they were becoming so sneaky about the whole thing. She winced at the sound of scaring and shook her head, all the extras that would take you quickly add up. “Just black ink would work fine then, unless another colour is cheaper." Hearing that her fur was good for tattoos was a bit reassuring as well. She did her best not to glance towards the rest of the room when ever she caught Melisande’s eyes jumping in that direction. When her demeanor changed Maeanu leaned in a little closer, intrigued by the change, as well as by what she said next. She was always one to jump at a deal; something under the table so to say, was also never out of the questions. But there was the idea of her tattoo being done by and apprentice. For the first time since starting the conversation Mae really look at who she was talking too. She was small, shorter then herself, but older and gave a fairly confident presence when she had been speaking about her trade. She also understood it probably wasn’t often that she had a chance to tattoo someone, this deal could be a good chance to gain some experience. She let the idea swirl around a bit, and it was seeing the other girl change her behavior into someone who was a little more withdrawn that convinced her. “Well I’d hate to see you fired over me, so how about I tell your boss that we met a while ago at a local coffee shop where we got to talking about tattoos and you got me interested. Having come here I decide that I’d feel more comfortable to have you do mine then someone I don’t know at all." Ironically it was exactly what she was doing. It was kind of risky on her part to trust an apprentice’s work, but Melisande had taken the first risk to even mention the idea. Besides everyone deserved a chance to prove them selves. “Think that might work?"
"Just black ink would work fine then, unless another colour is cheaper." Melisande couldn't help but twist her mouth into a half-grin at this; she replied very quietly, eyes trained on the nearest tattoo artist -- who unfortunately seemed to be looking at them out of the corner of his eye. "Work from apprentices is so cheap, you could probably still afford a more matching color. Purple, maybe?" she suggested, gaze for a moment assessing the thill's bright colors. "Yes, purple would be best.. That is, as long as you think so, too." "Think that might work?" "No!" Meli interjected, perhaps a little too loud, attracting the stares of a couple of artists and their customers. "No," she said more softly, "I mean, you can't tell Boss that I was involved in this at all. He'll think I told you to request me, and that's not really allowed. It has to be more.. more subtle than that. Like, say you saw me at a cafe, asked me where I got my tattoos done, found out I did them myself, then decided to track down the parlor where I worked on your own." It sounded plausible to Meli; it sounded believable. She nodded once, twice, to herself, then added, "And try not to be intimidated by Boss. He's a little.. crazy." OoC; Sorry, it's a little short. D:
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Not a problem at all :)</td></tr></table> Mae nodded along as they talked about colours; it was actually one of her favorite subjects. She glanced down at her arm where she was thinking of having the tattoo and considered having it purple; she agreed that if they could find a fairly close match to her natural purple markings it would look pretty good. She just nodded to show her agreement. She did her best not to react too dramatically to Melisande’s loud ‘no’, but she couldn’t help shooting a quick glance at some of the artist who seemed to be looking their way. She did her best to smile back and make it seem like no big deal. Hearing her out she understood how strict the manager seemed to be with letting apprentices work. “Okay, you know him best and it sounds believable to me." When she said something about the Boss being crazy she got a little worried, what kind of crazy was she talking about? She easily got this imagine in her head of this huge pendragon covered in tattoos with madness in his eyes. She knew her imagination was just over reacting but it didn’t stop putting a bit of fear in her. She did her best not to let it show though, her own boss wasn’t all that nice of a guy, so she should be able to deal with this. “Okay, here it goes." She practically whispered that part before drawing back a little before putting their plot into motion.“Well then I’d like to have a word with your Boss." She was now speaking a little louder then she normally would, mostly so it would seem like they had had a disagreement over something. Which also made that first loud ‘no’ have some context now as well.
Melisande was very relieved that the thill, Mae, agreed to go along with the plan; she had to admit, if she'd been in Mae's place, she probably would have just inched out of the shop to find a more sane tattoo parlor. But Mae seemed fine it with -- a little nervous, maybe, but who wouldn't be, after all Meli had told her? -- and nearly whispered, "Okay, here it goes." Melisande nodded gravely and followed her lead. "Well then IÂ’d like to have a word with your Boss." Mae's words reverberated in Meli's head, sending a thrill of nervousness through her stomach even though she knew -- hoped -- that this was just part of the plan. Mae didn't seem the type to rat someone out... Then again, what if she thought she'd get a discount and a more qualified artist if she informed Boss of Meli's taboo offering? Melisande took a shaky little breath and forced herself to reply, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but they're really all busy right now, and I'm just an apprentice. I've already told you, I can't do the work for you unless Boss says I can." Please don't blow my cover. Please just ask Boss if I can do the work. But before Melisande could think any further, something in the back of the parlor shifted and groaned as it stood -- a very tall, very wide 'dragon, with tattoo sleeves and piercings galore. It seemed distruntled, groggy, and more than a little irate. Don't let him scare you, Mae, Meli thought. Abruptly, she realized that most of the room was watching them, and more than a few of the artists were either glaring openly or laughing behind their hands. "Another one?" rumbled the big thing from the back. "Spinner, that's your third request this week. You.. you haven't been advertising, have you?" He left an appropriately-long, appropriately-intimidating pause here, waiting for Meli or Mae to say something. "Because you know how we here at the parlor feel about that," Boss said ominously, narrowing his eyes and glaring alternately at customer and apprentice. "And you know how we deal with it." Melisande nodded timidly, unable to make her eyes meet Boss's. Let's just hope for the best.
‘Okay Mae, put on your confident face, not to angry now, stay composed’. As she tried to prepare herself mentally she also tried preparing outwardly, she crossed her arms across her chest trying to give off a bit of an air of impatience while trying not to look to offensive. She held this appearance when she heard the sounds coming from some where in the back, as soon as he walked out a mixed expression of shock and fear passed over her face. If he noticed it would have blown her chance so with her best effort she returned to her calm and more assertive look. She was almost tempted to quickly tap her foot, but considering the size and look of the male, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d throw her out for something like that. So she didn’t push it any further. Listening to him talk she was a little offended that he took all his annoyance out on Melisande and only shot her a few intimidating glances. What was it with bosses being jerks? Not wanting him to spurts more threats she decided now would be a good time to start talking. “Well sir if you count walking down the street as advertisement then maybe she has been, but from what I know, that’s not a crime, and it’s also something that’s hard to avoid doing." She paused, composing herself for what she wanted to say next without breaking her stride. “I couldn’t help but notice the beautifully decorated wings of Miss Spinner here," She really hoped that that was she last name and not just some cruel nickname given too her,“and having asked her who did them she told me that it was indeed herself that had tattooed her wings. You can believe my surprise, I didn’t even guess that she was an apprentice until talking to her moments ago and yet I can’t understand why I am not able to hire her to do my tattoo." She stopped and met the Boss’s rather cold stare; she wasn’t going to crack now. Her whole speech had got her rather worked up and excited. She had pretty much turned into her Black Market Bhim self, all confidence, no regrets, if only that was how she always felt. She relaxed her rather tense and annoyed stance and hoped that she hadn’t been too over the top.
Boss narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step toward the outspoken thill, his jaw muscles flexing visibly as he moved. But then he stopped, still glaring -- only a warning, for now: butt out. Ultimately, though, Mae was the buyer and Boss the seller, and it was his job to serve; this much he knew. He seemed to reach a decision then: I get paid either way; it's no skin off my back. And he sighed resignedly, jaw still flexing away. Melisande, by this point in her apprenticeship, had learned to read Boss's body language, and at the sign of his calming, she breathed deeply with relief. But her gaze still couldn't help but dart to and fro' between Boss and Mae like a captive sparrow -- what else would he say? He wouldn't just leave it at that. "Huh. Well. If you're so dead-set on Spinner here doin' your inks, I s'pose I can make an exception and let the apprentice work. But hear me now, Spinner, I've got my eye on you. Any sign of outside advertisement -- and I mean any -- and you're out of here," he groused. A light snicker ran through the full-time tattoo artists, but one long glare from Boss's beady eyes silenced it. "And we're splitting your commission, as usual, sixty-forty." Melisande nodded breathlessly, amazed that he'd even let her accept the job -- after all, she'd already had an usually high number of requests that week, and he typically restricted the apprentices as much as possible. I shouldn't dwell on his reasoning; I should just get to work on this customer, she told herself evenly, drawing one more deep breath before turning back to Mae and informing her of the price*. "Sound reasonable? That's including the purple ink," she asked with a plastered-on grin. Boss was still glaring at them. "But I have to warn you, we'll need to shave the area to be inked..." <span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>*I don't really want to name a price because I have no idea about currency here. xD Better to just leave it up to the imagination, yes?</span>
<span style='font-family:Arial'><span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>*Agreed :3</span></span> When the large ‘dragon took that menacing step forward Mae was about to flinch, but she some how held it in, thankfully. After that it felt like an eternity for the yellow thrill, waiting to here his response. Pretty much everyone in the shop had gone quiet, probably waiting for the boss to bite her head off. After seeing him agree to the deal she wanted to laugh, she was so happy that it had worked, or at least grin wickedly, but even that was out of the questions. It wasn’t safe to break character just yet. She thought about thanking him for his cooperation but her nerves were starting to fail her and she was no longer certain that she’d be able to pull off her previously displayed confidence. Better to leave things as they were. The silence of the shop disappeared as the other artist laughed at the comment of being fired, Geez, friendly work environment, she thought to herself. As Melisande started to talk to her again her gaze lingered on the boss for a moment before turning to hear about the price. She smiled hearing the final sum, knowing she would be able to afford it. “Of course, it’s just hair, it grows back." She said shrugging and running a hand over her short yellow fur. The only attachment she had ever had to her appearance was her colour, other then that she was willing to make changes, style, hair, those kinds of things didn’t bother her. While trying to start up there conversation where it had previously left off Mae couldn’t help but feel the Boss’s glare on the back of her head. She hoped he’d get bored and stop watching so closely. Remembering that all the artists were at work she started to wonder if they had an extra chair for Meli around. “So…where do we start?" She knew the basics to tattooing, but now that things were about to get underway she realized how little she actually knew.
Melisande opened her mouth to reply to the other thill's question -- "So... where do we start?" -- when Boss interjected once more. His deep, gravelly voice boomed from the back of the shop, "We have an extra setup in the back, where the apprentices practice inking every once in a while. You can use that. It's not the prettiest, though: hope you don't mind." His words, at face value, seemed sincere enough, but there was a slight sneer in his voice, some malice as he opened the door to the back room and gestured for them to go through. Sighing, Melisande nodded to him and started forward, motioning for Mae to follow. She felt eyes on her as she threaded her way through the other artists and customers -- glaring, she could imagine, at the lowly apprentice who thought she was too good to be in the position she occupied, the lowly apprentice who received special requests for her work. But she managed to keep her cool, breathing deeply and biting the inside of her lips gently as she walked. And once she was through the doorway, it no longer mattered: Boss typically kept the door shut because the back room was a mess, and he didn't want paying customers to see such sights, so he'd probably be closing it now anyway. Ah, privacy at last, she thought, walking straight for the ratty pleather chair by the counter. Ugh, Boss hadn't been kidding: who was the last person to even use this stuff? Melisande picked up a can of spray disinfectant and a terrycloth towel and began spritzing and wiping, cleaning off the dusty old chair and counter as best she could. "I hope you don't mind the mess," she commented as she worked. Once finished, she held out a hand indicating that Mae could take a seat of she wanted, and then Melisande picked up the Fronima-run shaver that was plugged into the wall. Smiling somewhat tersely, she said, "Now show me exactly where you want the tattoo and what size. If you're not sure, I can dreamweave what I'm picturing for you, and we can go from there." Her business-like self had returned, confident and clear-voiced without being too loud or too soft. After all, tattooing was what she loved.
Hearing the way Boss had so helpfully interjected where the apprentices work Maeanu believe, for a mere second, that he may not be so resentful after all, but looking at him Mae caught that look on his face, that nullified her first impression. She didn’t let her hopes rise of what was hiding in the back room, there was probably good reason for it to be cut off from the rest of the store. She fell in behind Melisande as they walked toward the back of the shop, she kept her head high and her eyes forward as she passed the large arden while walking through the doorway. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her showing any sort of regret. The room was slighting as she expected it to be, a normal set-up that that definitely seen nicer days. She stood off to the side while watching Melisande clean the chair and counter. Her mind wandered a bit since the scene reminded her of her own run down apartment, she gave herself a mental reminder to give everything a good cleaning when she got back. However she got an after thought that it might not make much of a difference. Melisande’s voice drew her back to her current situation. “Oh, no. No problem at all. Messes are to be expected in every type of business." As she finished cleaning up Mae took off her jacket to reveal sleeveless green top that she purposely wore to have access to her arm. She debated for the thought of putting it down on the floor, in the end she put it on the far end of the counter that was clean and hopefully far enough out of the way. Taking a seat now she looked up at Melisande, intrigued by the mention of dream weaving the idea into her head. “Really, you can just put your ideas into my dreams. That’s cool. Would I have to fall asleep right now, or is there a state of mind you inflict with magic or something? If its simple enough I think it’d be worth a try." She had a fair idea in her own mind of what she was looking for, but that didn’t mean that Melisande had the same picture in her head. Having it dreamweaved seemed to be a way to guarantee that both artist and customer were on the same page.
