A Thousand Reasons

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

A small smile came to his mouth as he saw the photo. The two looked so happy, having fun. The smile was gone as soon as he remembered that Viktor was dead because of him. That happiness, that fun, both of them gone. He felt some water well up to his eyes and he stepped away from Syd, hiding his face away from the other man.

He didn’t answer the friend request, he didn’t really have the time so. The artist hurried downstairs before he could say a word. Lasair was thankful for that, in a way. It gave him a few moments to recompose himself, pull the pieces back together again. Deep breaths, try to stay calm. Clench, unclench hands. The books, a public library, huh? It made sense. Perhaps he could sneak one or two book to the guild library, but the rest he would pass on the bookstore Elaine lived at.

Reaching up, he pulled one of the technology books off the shelf and flipped through it. All the picture looked alien and foreign to the ander’s eyes. At the same time, they were fascinating in the sense that they were a forbidden fruit. A whole field of study, so well documented and so thoroughly understood, and Lasair couldn’t lay a finger on it. It was common for anders to be fascinated with technology, and Lasair was no exception to this. When he was done wandering among the pages, he closed the book and returned it to its place on the shelf. Turning around, he left the room and returned to the entrance.

The first thing he did was pick up his cup of tea. It wasn’t as warm as when he had left it, but that was okay. Taking a large drink from it, he looked towards Syd with a conflicted expression. “I think that, um, being friends would be good. If you don’t mind the lack of professionalism, I mean.”

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Downstairs Syd had not touched his tea once and had left it to cool while he labored over a large sketchbook in order to procure neat line work of the art he had sketched earlier. He was close to half way down with the front piece that would sit on top of Lasair's sternum and travel by his clavicles before slipping past his shoulders. Upon hearing Lasair come down stairs, he gave pause to the drawing, set the pencil down then turned to look at the fiery haired man. Quietly he watched him approach the table wondering why he looked so troubled until he took up the tea cup. Mister Lupen had not taken anything from upstairs that he could readily see.

Upon hearing the man's reply to his previous inquiry upstairs, Syd's brows lifted and he studied the other. "I would not mind, no. 'Tis quite lonely in a new place with new faces and to have at least one friend would be very appreciated," he replied with a small smile. "When would you prefer to start your tattoo...? Shall we meet tomorrow and I shall have the line work completed?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Stealing a glance at the sketch book, Lasair rather liked the way the drawing was turning out. But he also couldn’t help but notice that Syd’s tea remained untouched. He set his freshly empty cup down and noticed the odd sort of comparison the two formed when next to each other.

Looking back up, he nodded to Syd’s suggestion. “Yeah, tomorrow sounds great. Is there a specific time you’d like me to come?” he asked next, looking down at Syd’s hands and the slightly exposed tattoos being shown. If he really did those, then Lasair was glad he came to this shop. There was skill and expertise in those tattoos that not every other artist out there would have.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

As Lasair placed his tea cup down, Syd leaned over to grab his near the rim rather than the handle then lifted the cup to his lips for a full drink. The liquid had gotten considerably cool by now though he rather preferred it that way to scalding. Afterwards, he set the cup back beside Lasair's empty one then stood with the sketchbook in hand. "I am an early bird so any time is favorable. You're my first client, really. If you should show before the shop opens in the morning do not hesitate to go around back and knock on the garage. I might be there cleaning so I can let you in. Did you have any last questions for me? Any concerns about the process?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Standing as well, the ander nodded. “I’m not sure how early I’ll be, but I’ll be here. Oh and when should I pay you? I don’t have much money on me right now, but I’ll bring some tomorrow. Which also brings the question of how much this’ll be. If it’s a bit up there, are a couple payments okay?” He glanced towards the table, not seeing the paper with the emblem on it any longer. It must be under the tea tray, he decided. That was okay, Syd would probably need it for the design. But after that, Lasair would like to get it back.

After Syd answered, he turned and left with a shake of the hand for goodbye.

--

It was morning, around ten or so, when Lasair made it way back towards the tattoo parlor. It should be open by now, at least that’s what he hoped.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

"Several payments work splendidly. I'll only charge you what I work on for that day. Does that work? If not, I can always have you pay a little here and there." They discussed rates for a short time after to agree on price. Syd certainly did not cost a lot to go to though part of it was his naivety in what should be charged in this country.

Syd was up a little after dawn which meant going about his daily routine of washing, dressing, eating, exercising, and lastly cleaning. By the time Lasair came around, Syd had not changed from the sleeveless shirt he had chosen to wear for his chores leaving his arms fully exposed while on his legs he adorned pants with tears at the knees. The bell had hardly been audible to the artist over the record music playing classical tunes from such famous artists as Mozart and Beethoven. However, upon hearing Lasair's arrival, Syd was quick to jump over a chair and silence the music before lifting a hand in greeting. "Good morning, Mister Lupen. I hope you had a pleasant night last night and a wonderful morning today. Are you ready? Do you have issues with people seeing you get tattooed or should I put you behind curtains?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Lasair’s eyebrows bounced up upon entering. Music was being played. It was a splendid surprise, given that the chosen song was usually not available live. Of course recorded music wasn’t the same, but it was something that anders usually couldn’t experience on their own. He was saddened when it was shut off.

But the sadness was only there momentarily, replaced with a sense of wonder as seeing Syd’s arms in full. They were fascinating and intricate, the way they gave the impression of machinery and technology. And yet they were only shades of ink embedded in the skin.

It took Lasair a moment to realize he was staring and that questions had been sent to him. Blinking a few times, he found his voice. “Your arms are amazing. If you made that, then I have no doubt you’ll create what I have in mind for my tattoo.” It was mostly spoken to account for his lingering eyes, but it was an honest compliment too. “What do you mean by people seeing? Other clients? Or passerby’s?” He glanced towards the window and then towards the back of the shop. “I’d rather not have random people seeing, if that’s okay?” he asked with a hint of nervousness. He knew a lot of people in the city, and a lot of people knew the old him. The chances of walking by were slim, but still large enough that he didn’t want to risk it

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

The compliment caught the Ronuvian by surprise and he had to blink as color rose to his cheeks. He felt flattered by the other's words and offered Lasair a smile. "Thank you. Your words are very kind though I did have help on a few places I couldn't reach. And yes, other clients or passerby's. The bench out here is for people who do not mind being seen or for people getting simple tattoos in areas not so private. For patients who are uncomfortable with showing any part of their body there is hidden spot. Here, come this way," beckoned the freckled individual as he led the way toward the back left corner. Rails had been applied to the ceiling and from there curtains had been hung that draped all the way to the ground. In the center of the corner was a long bench. Against the wall was a small table, his tattooing tools, colors, paper with the line work on it, an extra chairs.

"If you'll just have a seat on the bench I'll get the curtains." He was already tugging at the fabric to slide it across the rails to section off the part of the store they would be occupying. "Oh, and, uhm, please undress any articles of clothing in the way of where you want your tattoo. Have you shaved your body at all?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Giving Syd the compliment reminded Lasair of his old ways. The reasons why he had taken up that lifestyle were right there within the way Syd answered. It made a smile grace the ander’s face, but only momentarily. In the blink of an eye, it was gone again. Still, the feeling was a refreshing change from the despair he had been wallowing in.

Walking where directed, he took off his coat and set it on the rack before sitting down. He had worn a simple white button up shirt today and began undoing the buttons while Syd closed the curtains. “Shaved? No, I haven’t. I, uh, didn’t know I was supposed to.” His words came out with confusion, but the realization quickly dawned on him as he reached the final button. Hair would probably get in the way of tattooing. Oops.

Letting the shirt fall from his shoulders, he tensed up a little as he felt a draft from outside. Chilly, but nice. He could handle the cold just fine. Thankfully, Lasair was not a hairy man which would make the shaving somewhat less painful. A small tuft the color of dull orange was on his chest, and his back was relatively clear, save for a few stray strands here and there.

Glancing towards his shirt, he reached to rest a hand on it. “Should I go get that done and then come back? I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

Closing the curtains had not taken very long though he wished he had been slower when he turned on Lasair part ways through with unbuttoning his shirt. Clearing his throat lightly, he lowered his gaze and stepped over to his tools where a small container rested. "No, no, I should have told you. My fault. Terribly sorry for that. You do not have to leave and go do that. Many people get spur of the moment tattoos, you know? So almost every tattoo artist I know of has razors and cream. Would you, uhm, prefer I do it or you?" The razor he showed Lasair was an older kind. A simple blade that could be flipped closed. But in order to show Lasair meant he had to turn and face him and because he didn't want to be rude he had to lift his eyes to meet the others. He didn't care how people teased him. There was definitely a difference in seeing someone's body when operating medically on them than there was for just seeing someone's body. This was work though. Being flustered like this hadn't happened in awhile. All of it was quite embarrassing.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

Was he…blushing? It was hard to tell with the freckles there to mask some of the color, but there was color there. Lasair took it as meaning the lack of a shirt made him uncomfortable. Admittedly, the ander would probably also be blushing if roles were reversed. But he rolled his shoulders and tried not to dwell on the thought. “If you don’t mind. It would be easier, not to mention faster, than if I left to get it done elsewhere.” Syd was quickly becoming someone interesting to interact with. Maybe Lasair would have to get another tattoo after this one.

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

A small nod was given to hide the way he swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. "I do not mind," came his reply, proud of himself that it actually sounded fluid and not as nervous as he felt. While approaching Lasair with both the razor and container of cream, Syd contemplated his plan of action. He could take the easier route and work with Lasair's back first which would allow him a moment to not feel awkward, but then that would leave the awkwardness for the end when he would be shaving the man's chest. Alternatively he could do chest first and get that out of the way then give him that break with doing Lasair's back after. What perhaps made this whole scenario awkward was that Syd was never sure how people were and sitting in silence was sometimes comfortable with the right people and sometimes awkward with the wrong people. Sometimes talking eased the task and other times the talking tread in dangerous zones that made him uncomfortable.

Lasair did not seem to be the overly talkative time. He struck Syd as quiet and thoughtful--maybe sad as well. Was it just the death? Did more happen to him? The Ronuvian still wondered about the other three names. When he finally reached Lasair, he decided on the man's chest first and so set both the container and razor beside Lasair on the bench before leaving to seek a short stool. Upon returning, he set the stool in front of Lasar then took up the container. "I, uh, apologize if this may seem a touch awkward for you? I know it can be for me at times but it has nothing to do with you--I'm just an awkward human being," blurted the artist, not really meaning to but feeling he owed Lasair some sort of response as he worked on unscrewing the lid. From the underside of the container, he unscrewed another piece and this revealed the brush for the cream which he then dipped into the compound. "Mister Lasair, would you mind if I put on music," he paused to ask, lifting his gaze from the brush to Lasair's face.

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

The ander watched with gentle eyes as the other moved around. He seemed to be flustered, but he blamed it on his personality. It was a believable argument, so Lasair didn't question him on it. As Syd opened the container, Lasair sat up a bit straighter, direction his eyes to the wall. Staring at him would probably make him even more uncomfortable, and if he was nervous with a blade in his hand....
At the offer for music, his eyes lit up a little. "Music would be nice," he answered, doing his best to hide his excitement. Perhaps today was his lucky day. Music, a tattoo, and nice company all together at once. But the tattoo might not be as pleasant as he thought it would be. And then he remembered that shaving risked cutting him. And there was black blood under his skin, not red. Would Syd be okay if he knew about Lasair being an ander? He'll just have to cross that bridge when he gets to it. 

[Syd Croswell-Miklos]

The agreement for music brought a bright smile to the artist's lips. Music was something that relaxed him drastically and inspired much of his work. He was certain if he had that on while working the process of being near Lasair and touching his skin would not be as uncomfortable. "A moment then." With the container still in hand, the Ronuvian stood from his stool and exited the cover of the curtain. The ander would be able to hear the human walking away toward the musical device then fiddle with it. The record was changed for a similar genre then the needle returned on the record before the sound began to emerge in a soft hum. There was mild background noise, but that was what made records less enjoyable than the live performances. Still, one could not complain.

Moments later, Syd reappeared behind the curtain with a grin and took his seat back at the stool. "I hope you do not mind the choice of music. I have other ones... but they are, uhm, how do I put this... my father used to claim it sounded like a bunch of hooligans hitting instruments against a wall," he explained, lowering his gaze to the cream before lifting the brush to dab onto Lasair's chest before smoothing it over the skin. The music had helped soothe him and now he did not mind being in such close proximity of the other. "Have you a favorite genre or composer of music, mister Lupen?"

[Lasair Landevier Lupen]

While Syd walked off to play the sound, Lasair relaxed his posture and glanced around. The tools for tattooing looked fascinating; perhaps during or after the session he could ask for details about them. The music was a nice addition to the atmosphere, it soothed Lasair too, but only to a point. He could never quite relax completely these days.

He sat up straight again as Syd returned, glancing at his face before returning his eyes elsewhere to rest. “I like this music,” he began, shivering a little as the cream hit his chest. It was colder than he expected. “As for my favorite, well, I’ve never heard a song I didn’t like so I can’t really answer that one. I wouldn’t mind listening to your other ones sometime as well.” His voice came out slowly, saying most of his words between the strokes of the blade on his chest.

The shave went by without a problem for the majority of it. But then, at the end, Lasair felt a twinge of pain and flinched back. It was only a small cut, just a tiny line, but it was enough of an opening for black blood to well up and spill out of. His hands quickly reached up to try and cover the spot, but he was slow to react. Syd would have seen. The ander's face turned to one of conflict and slight fear, he didn't want to lose the friend he had just found.