We're all rotten, buried and forgotten,

Living it up underground

Harley peered within that shop, that looked awfully like a tattoo shop and she just so happened to be a master of the trade. Her own business had flopped, taking off in the middle of the night, never to return tended to do that. It was already another business now, which of course, was not surprising, she had already scoped it out just to be entirely sure. What she needed now, now that she fully intended to put her roots back in a city that was her own was a job. She needed work, it was plain and simple. She needed to make ends meat, for her and Ace. There was no way in hell she was going to sell her family home to do it either, even if the memory was tarnished to hell in a handbasket, she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. She had it on the market for a short time but she changed her mind. It had been at least thirteen years since her life was spun upside down, how much of a clusterfuck her life had become. You would think she wouldn't be attached to a place she no longer lived in.. The house might as well still be her own private hell. So job it was! Even if the idea of working for someone wasn't an easy to concept to swallow considering she didn't really play well with others.

The raven haired woman had been meandering, before she stumbled upon the would be tattoo parlour, as though it were put there for that singular purpose to give her a job. Of course, she was really out to purchase some food for Ace. Her once large and in charge solid black german shepherd/loyal companion had recently become a puppy again. But not after plenty of magical fuck ups aka, Sterling using his magical prowess to help save her dog from a natural demise of old age. She wasn't entirely prepared for all the things she would need for a puppy, including specially formulated food and a collar that actually fit him.

That was when she walked passed a shop without a sign, but it was undoubtedly a new tattoo parlor going in. What a coincidence. She peered into the glass, taking a better look, noticing there was a man standing at the desk, he was examining table at the front pretty fixatedly, or maybe he was simply bored out of his mind. She strode right up to that door, ignoring the flashing, illuminated closed sign.

She waltzed right in as though it were entirely natural, when she was unsurprisingly met with an unfriendly expression. Was it break and entering if the door was open and a person was inside? Hm. She thought about it for perhaps a total of 2 seconds and then didn't really give a flying shit.

"I saw the sign.." She said nonchalantly, her vibrant purple eyes assess the shop, it looked new, and high scale. This could work, she thought after a quick assessment, well at least from what she could see. Of course, she didn't even take into consideration the actual person who ran the shop's opinion on the matter. At least she knew they had good taste, which mean they would have no choice but to hire her. She could already tell he was getting rather prickly with her mere presence assaulting his quiet. Then again, that was nothing new for her, not that it actually deterred the woman. "Usually when something is closed, the door is locked." The raven-haired woman smirked, her sarcasm woven easily her words. Sarcasm was second nature to her, a second skin she wrapped herself with luxuriously.

She took a few steps forward toward the man as he growled at her, claiming they weren't open for another week. She hardly seemed concerned by it either, unshakable like she was with most things. Hell, she a bulldozer of a human, there was nothing that would hold her back. However, it did earn him her full attention now. Her fiery violet eyes peered right at him, meeting him now dead in the eye. It took a lot to unsettle the raven-haired spitfire and this certainly was not going to work. She looked into the eyes of monsters recklessly, getting under their skin without a fear and yet somehow, she still stood with a soul as loud as a tornado. Narrowing her eyes as she looked at him assessing him in that shameless way of her's, There was something different... about him, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was. She was usually good at picking out the vampires, but this one didn't possess the same vibe. How utterly distracting. She tipped her head slightly to the side.

He was good looking, she could give him that, but that wasn't enough to reign her in. Perhaps she should tell him why she bothered appearing within his shop anyways, even though there was an itch to poke and prod things she probably shouldn't. She wasn't really good at giving the best impressions, but she was certainly better at lasting ones even if they weren't positive.

She drew in a breath as if it pained her to be so agonizingly normal. She tried to shake the thought of what was so different about him and actually focus on explaining the reason why she was hear. Even though she was perfectly content to let anyone else stew. "Well.. I'm an artist, a damn good one too.. Lucky for you, I'm looking for work." She put down her bag to the floor, leaning against the receptionist desk. "Unless you're not the man I'm looking to talk to.. In that case send me that a way.. You just seem boss-like.." She gestured toward him. She gave her best forged smile but it only ended up looking painfully, inconveniently mischievous.

"Oh and my name is Harley.." Names, totally trivial things that were apparently important, especially when asking for a completely random person for a job. She could get through most conversations without it slipping, but she supposed this had to be different.

Harlequin Ray Westward