3:45PM
He casually leans against the desk, brows furrowed as he disregards the woman with a narrow gaze, Brenden hardly caring to be polite. Truly, he didn't think the woman was here for a tattoo, if he had to guess, he merely assumed she was in here to get out of the torrential downpour that was currently happening. Normally, the warlock wouldn't have minded and yet, today was simply not a good day. His mind was entirely wrapped up in Nora, spending another night in jail. It almost had him clenching his jaw and pinching the bridge of his nose once more but Brenden manages to slide it to the back of his mind... for now. Instead, he watches the woman throughly barely concealed irritation, which only increased as she continued to stand in front of the censor. Perhaps he shouldn't have made the comment he had, simply because he could see the surprise and disbelief flit across her features. Okay, maybe not the best route to go.
After he sends the fluffy towel flying towards her feet, it hardly takes him long before he's tossing her that cloth to dry her face, Brenden glowering at the purple-haired woman as the censor continues to go off. His whole body tenses and he's nearly ready to tear it off with his affinity before she finally moves. Relief surges through his body, though it hardly shows it on his face. As the stranger moves farther into his parlor, he moves towards her and then past her as he reaches down and grasps that censor as it goes off once more, tears it from the side of the door and tosses it into the nearby trashcan. He should have gotten the damn bells in the first place. Satisfied with his newly enhanced store, he leans down and grabs the white towel before striding back to the desk. Folding it over the top, he turns his dark eyes back on the woman, his features entirely stony as she thanks him.
"I don't normally have half drowned women show up in my shop," he grunts at her as he leans against the desk once more, his corded arms folding across his chest. Her next question catches him off guard, the barest hint of surprise dancing across his features as he furrows his brows at her. "This city is by the ocean, of course it rains all the time," he growls at her as if it was the stupidest question he had ever been asked as his gaze travels to the outside. Brenden didn't mind the rain, actually, he rather enjoyed it from time to time, it was comforting and a relief from those rather hot summers. His gaze isn't fixed on the window for long before it travels back to the stranger; customer, whatever she was as he continues to regard her with his intense stare, "What do you want?" He asks then, even on a good day Brenden wasn't polite, yet, most people who wanted tattoos didn't care if their artist was nice or not, they just wanted it to be good.
"I don't allow soliciting in my shop and if you're in here to get just get out of the rain, I suggest you leave," he nods his head towards the door, Brenden in an entirely no nonsense mood at the moment... making him a complete asshole. The man can't help himself, being a dick meant he didn't have to get close with anyone and no one wanted to get close with him either. Who would want to be around a man like that?