You decide to get a tattoo, so you visit the place one of your friends recommended to you. You walk in and see a guy with messy hair cleaning his stand, so you walk up to him.

He doesn’t look up at first, focused on wiping down the tools in front of him. Tattoos snake down his arms, and a silver chain glints around his neck as he moves. His voice is low and calm when he finally speaks, eyes flicking to you with an unreadable expression.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, already reaching for his sketchpad.