A Thousand Reasons

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Open to Syd Croswell-Miklos and takes place shortly after the war event thread.

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“Right over this way, the kind young lad just opened his shop the other day.” The aged lady led Lasair forward, pointing at a shop. It didn’t look that organized or like the doors were open, but the sign hanging on the door read “Miklos Tattoo Parlor is OPEN,” so he had to trust the lady. The last name hanging at the top of the store unsettled him a bit, but he reminded himself that the store couldn’t sit empty forever. Business had to move on, money needed to be made.

“Thank you. And here,” reaching into his pocket, he gave an earring to the lady. She already had one, and now the matching one was hers too, completing the set. The earrings were one of the things Lasair’s mom had made personally, putting a lot of effort into the design, and he couldn’t bear selling them off as easily as he had done with some of the other pieces. Giving them to a nice lady brought some joy to him, and when she explained that she was going to give them to her granddaughter, it only made him feel better.

Smiling, she turned and left the red head then. “Have a good day,” she said, turning to leave. She vaguely wondered why the man had asked her where the newest tattoo parlor was, but shrugged it off as someone wanting to avoid people who knew him.

Taking a breath, he pushed open the door, looking around with a level gaze. “Hello?”

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Another long day of moving boxes around in the back made the Ronuvian exhausted. Giving pause, he sighed and leaned against one of the steam engine bikes left behind by his cousin. "Nikolai," he called to the head but received no answer. Since breaking the news that Viktor would not be returning the dollwork head had gone silent and ceased to operate.

Sighing once more, Syd was resigned to be alone again today after realizing that tattoos were far less popular in this country than his own. However, the sound of the bell alerted him someone had entered the shop. More excited than he was willing to admit, the freckled man quickly stood upright and made for the front of the store. As he did so he suddenly felt his excitement melt into an unsettling bundle of nerves. After all, this could just be a robber or an attacker. The thought made his chest grow tight but he pressed on either way.

"H-Hello," he replied back to Lasair after emerging then cleared his throat. "Hello," he repeated more clearly and offered the fiery haired man a nervous smile. "H-How can I help you?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

His voice sounded empty as it emerged from his throat, but it still rung out into the air. “You do tattoos, right? I’d like something, a sort of mural. Well, uh, before I get to that,” he paused, mouth fading into a thin line when he wasn’t speaking. His next question sounded unusual, but he needed to ask it anyhow. “Do you keep a log of your tattoos? If I’m getting a tattoo here, I’d like it to be kept off the books. Is that alright?” He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few moments, already wondering if this was a bad idea. Turning around and leaving now would be an easy way out, but he didn’t exactly want an easy way out. Not anymore. Despite that, the place didn't exactly look like it was ready for business. It was a bit messy, cluttered, and remnants from the previous owner were here and there. The tools usually used with tattooing weren't visible, but then again, if he didn't have them then he wouldn't be getting business.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Syd stood before the stranger at his door and could not help but study his features. Was that a peircing at his brow...? He didn't squint his eyes to be rude though he wanted to get closer and see for sure. The freckled individual then had to wonder whether this stranger's hair was natural or not. Curious questions but none he wished to ask aloud.

"A-A mural?" It was not an uncommon request. "I can--" he did not finish his statement when the other inquired of log books. Smoothing out the front of his clothe while listening, he bit his lower lip. Being asked such a question should have worried him. Should have.

"Yes and no. I, uhm, I keep a log when I make tattoos, but there are no names or descriptions... Just how much time I spent on the work and how much I charged. I-I do it in case auditors... For when they tax. Does that bother you if I record the hours and pay rate? If not then I can ignore your records. Please, come in?" He made a mild gesture with his hand to beckon the other closer where seats were set up around a small table. On the center of the table was an array of books and sketchpads as well as writing tools.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

He nodded, understanding the reasoning. “As long as my name isn’t with it, then all logs are fine.” Following him into the table, he sat down, pretending not to notice how closely the other was looking at him. Was there something on his face? Or maybe it was his general ander features; or maybe the piercings? It didn't matter, let the guy stare. Clearing his throat, he continued. “This will be my first time getting ink. I’m, uh, not sure what I should do next. Describe what I want?” he asked, looking down at the books. His hands slipped towards his pocket, grabbing for the piece of paper within. Lasair still kind of felt awkward in the presence of the other, but he tried to ignore it. This tattoo was something he really wanted to have. It was something that he felt would help him handle life a little better. It wouldn't make life easier, but still, he would feel just a tiny bit better once it was on him. A visual representation of the feelings he had within.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

"Your name will not be within my logs. I, uhm, I promise," replied the Ronuvian as he smoothed out the front of his clothe and sat in a seat across from Lasair. "The first tattoo is usually hardest for some because of where they choose to place it. Any words of advice I can offer is that I would not put your first tattoo anywhere where the skin is thinnest because tattooing over the bone usually hurts more. I would also try not to place the tattoo anywhere that will aggravate you too much because the tattoo must be covered for a time and it will peel like a terrible sunburn. However, I will not keep you from picking any particular spot you wish... Uhm, except," he trailed off and flexed his hands while glancing at his feet then cleared his throat. "I-I do not do tattoos on more, uhm, well, personalized... Areas?" This man was coming for a mural and he highly doubted that it would go on his privates--but he had enough strange encounters to warn people ahead of time now.

Lifting his gaze once more though now his cheeks burned red slightly, he watched Lasair remove the paper from his pocket. "Typically I sketch out ideas of what you would like done unless you already have something? Is that what you would like tattooed...?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

His head nodded slightly as the artist explained, the accent sounding familiar to the ander although ht couldn’t quite place it. He lifted an eyebrow at the crotch restriction; it seemed the boy was somewhat timid. Lasair didn’t mind that in the slightest, the area was a touchy for himself at times too.

When the question came to him, he revealed the small piece of paper. “I already know what I want and where I want it, but the only thing I have a picture of is this.” He pulled the paper out and set it down. The image looked so precise, so neat, it didn’t really look like it had been copied by a normal hand.



With the paper on the table now, he continued to explain what he had in mind. “I want this right about here,” he lifted his hand to the upper part of his chest, right about where his rib cage started. “The colors don’t need to be exact, but I'd like something close to it, at least." Pausing, he waited to see what he would say about the image before continuing.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

People knowing what they wanted was not unusual and it made his life far more easier than those that came stumbling in drunk without a single clue of what they wanted tattooed. They typically were the ones who wanted tattoos in the oddest of places and of the strangest things. When Lasair set the paper on the table, Syd scooted forward to the edge of his seat and leaned over to eye the piece. What was so special about it that he needed it off the records? Or was this man simply wanted?

With a slight turn in of his lower lip so that he may hold it between his teeth, he rolled his eyes upward to study Lasair one more time. The piercings were unsettling because he was used to hooligans getting them but something about this man's face did not strike him as threatening. He was gorgeous really. Wonderful facial structure. He hoped this man would never seek tattooing his face.

"The colors should not be difficult to replicate. They will not be exact but Inpromise you they will be close enough. Judging by how you explained the paper there is more you wished to do...?" Now that they were talking business he seemed to be more relaxed with his shoulders slouched in a comfortable position. "And you wish to have that piece by the sternum?" He had briefly seen where the other had gestured but was ashamedly far too distracted by his face. 

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Nodding, he reached into his other pocket and took out a pen, but didn’t use it just yet. “Yeah, sternum. I’m bad with the names. And yeah, there’s more. I want this to sort of be, like, the pendant on a necklace.” He took the pen and drew on the picture, although he wasn’t exactly a skilled artist. “With the two chains being, like, shackled to the prongs of this symbol.”



Frowning at his drawing, he set the pen down. “Well, the shackles should be bigger than that, but do you see what I have in mind?” he asked, hoping the idea would be conveyed well. “It’s like a necklace, but instead of a normal pendant, it’s connected like this.” Gesturing with his hands now, he traced the path he wanted the necklace to follow, leading up and over his shoulders.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

A quiet hum left the Ronuvian as he watched the other draw his idea while explaining it. Without a word, he seized one of his own sketchbooks from the table, a charcoal pencil, and an eraser then sat back on his seat with his legs crossed at the knees. Syd set the sketchbook on his lap and touched the pencil to the paper with quick fluid motions to draw out the pendant and the chains. Every now and then he glanced up to look at the drawing then when he was through he turned to show Lasair the sketch. It was no different than the setup the other had made on his scrap of paper but the chains were much bigger than he had drawn. "Like this? Doing it like a necklace should not be any issue. Were you hoping to have the necklace wrap around your back and loop?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

The ander went silent as the other reached for his sketchbook, recreating the image with surprising skill. Lasair almost smiled when he saw the picture. Almost. But it translated as a slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth, fading again in under a second. “You drew it perfectly,” he replied, but then paused. He sort of stumbled as he continued on. “I, uh, well in back I want it to change. As it goes over my shoulders, I want the chains to turn heavy duty, you know, bigger links and all that. And I want them to be holding up a weight, a big one that spans my whole back. But not on the back of my arms, just my back. And I want some names on the weight, um.” Stopping abruptly, he leaned back, realizing he had been slowly moving forward as he described the picture in his head.

He scratched at the back of his head, speaking up again. “Sorry, I’ll slow down.” His tone returned to the same tone as before, the emotion fading out of it again.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Syd could not help but watch the others features for any hint of whether or not the man liked the design or would simply mislead him and tell him what he wanted to hear. The direction his lips curved with the twitch must have been good so he smiled softly in turn when Lasair spoke. "I am glad you like it--oh, oh, uhm I am very sorry. You can call me Syd, sir. If that will make our transaction easier." He was not expecting a name back but at least the other could utilize his name if he chose.

Faintly he noticed the other moving in closer and it made him sit up straighter while listening to the fiery haired man explain his tattoo design. What this could symbolize was many things and it only made him want to ask but that would be unprofessional so instead he nodded along. "Oh, no, you are fine, sir. This seems to be something you are passionate about and the idea is quite unique. I am thrilled to work with it," he replied then turned the page of his sketchbook, smoothed the paper then began to sketch. From the top of the page began small links that gradually grew larger until attached to a giant, rectangular weight with grooves on it. "What names did you wish to have tattooed and how did you wish to have them placed," inquired the artist without looking up.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

“Syd? It’s a pleasure to meet you, Syd,” he made a point of repeating the name, hoping it would help it stick in his memory. “My name is Lasair, Lasair Lupen. Call me what you will, whatever would make this easier.” Rocking forward a little, he chewed on his cheek again as he inhaled through his nose. “The names, there’s only four. I’d like them in a row, near the top of the weight, in whatever font you think would look nice.” He needed to take another breath, this time through his mouth before he continued. “The names are: Averus, Viktor, Avery, and Bartholomew. I can spell them, if you need. Viktor is with a k, since some spell it with a c.” His eyes fell to the floor as the names left his lips. Four names. Four people. Four lives, all lost because of him. The guilt still ate away at him even now.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Such an interesting name, thought the Ronuvian as he silently moved his lips to repeat the name. "Mister Lupen, then." Four names near the top. Should be simple enough. He would try at least three or four different fonts to give his client a wide range of styles to choose from. While he waited for the names to come flipped the sketchbook to tear out a piece of paper then folded it horizontally to write the names up so he could hold the names over the design without ruining the design. He nodded along to the names though paused in hearing how Viktor was spelled. His cousin always hated using a C. The instruction brought a small but sad smile to his lips as he resumed his folding then went about scribbling the names with the names organized in alphabetical order. The first set was bold print, the next flowing script, the third thin slanted print, and the fourth old fashioned print. "How are these, mister Lupen?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

The artist seemed to be lost in his work, but paused when Lasair mentioned the name spelling. It was an awkward sort of look, and he would have asked about it, but there were other things pressing at his mind right now. First off, the various names being shown in front of him. He looked over each series of fonts carefully, deciding that he already didn’t like the bold or the thin fonts. That left the old fashioned and the flowing one. Tapping a finger to his mouth, he contemplated them for a bit.

“They look good. I like the flowing one best,” he finally decided on. “Looks the nicest. Oh, but I don’t want them in the order you have them in. Viktor should be the second name, not the last.” There was a reason they were in the order that they’re in. It’s the order they were lost.