2019-06-08 - Cheater Cheater

It's late and Easton's out and about in the neighborhood. He apparently didn't learn his lesson about prowling the streets drunk last time, or at least wasn't put off by finding an injured Alexander. But here he is, ambling down the street with his uneven gate. He puffs away on a cigarette, dressed in his usual plain gray tee-shirt, dark jeans and scuffed brown motorcyle boots. He stops outside the tattoo shop and looks at it, why does this sound familiar. It takes a few moments for it to sink into his brain, but then it does..

"GEEEEEEOFF!" Easton doesn't really bother looking in through the window to find out if Geoff is actually working tonight but oh well. He bursts in the door, still smoking, which is probably not allowed and certainly not hygienic.

Well. If one is comfortable with running into Alexander in the first place, running into an /injured/ Alexander probably isn't all that unusual. Not in this town. Not with that Alexander. But such is Gray Harbor, and so its' occupants have learned to pretend they don't live in an episode of the X-Files.
Ahh, the drunks. Always a charming part of working the night shift in a tattoo parlor -- so much so that Lex seems entirely unphased when that door is thrown open and the stranger comes ambling in. "He's off tonight, sweetheart," she's drawling, her accent far more 'city' than 'small town'. She's seated herself on one of the rolling stools, and simply used an abused combat boot to push herself and said stool into Easton's view.

"You lookin' for something, or for someone?"

Easton's comfort levels are slowly climbing again here, not that he's at least pretty sure he's not losing his mind. Yes, it's not 100%, but he's working on a solid 2/3rds majority at least that he's of sound mind. Of course with climbing comfort levels, he's also loosening up a bit too. Hence that entrance.

He watches the rolling chair and the very much not-Geoff come rolling into view. He aws, and inhales on his cigarette, only to realize once he has a good lung-full of smoke that he's not supposed to be doing that. He holds up a finger, steps outside to both step out his cigarette and exhale before coming back in.

"I was looking for Geoff, because I'm pretty sure I need new ink. But mostly I need someone to fix eighteen year old me's idea of a good tat. Because it's sad. Not like a Yankees tattoo sad? But still." Because out east either a Yankees or Red Sox tattoo is the ultimate cliche in doofy white guy's first tattoo. He extends a hand to her.

"Easton."

At least there's no tramp stamp? As far as she knows. So far.

Lex is raising a pierced 'brow as Easton explains his presence in the shop, and snorts openly as he recounts his 18-year-old self's decision making. There really should be an age limit on these things. And a breathalyzer. Definitely a breathalyzer.

There's an outright sigh as she watched the inebriated stranger deal with his cigarette, and she's passing whatever time it takes by spinning right to left on that stool. ADD much? And then he's back.
"Babe, if you already got Geoff on board... I think I might be steppin' on his territory if I do anything permanent." At least she's extending a hand to meet his own. "Lex."

"Nope, I'm texting him right now to say it's his own damn fault." And true to his word, Easton has his phone out and is typing things with one hand, while his other hand starts pulling up his tee-shirt. He manages to slip the shirt over his head and pull a stool of his own over. He sits with his back to Lex and says "First, selfie to show Geoff that I'm cheating on him, but only on this fix. I promise he'll get all my actual new ink."

He holds up the phone to take a picture of him and Lex, he waits for her to get closer to pose if she wants, but doesn't seem bothered if she doesn't.

The tattoo in question on his right shoulder blade is a big red C with a very red bear coming through it. A college logo for sure, and not done terribly well. The color is inconsistent, the lines a bit wonky.

"I'm thinking zombify the bear? Turn the C into .. God, anything else? And ditch most of the red, except where zombie bear has feasted of course."

"Mmm..." is Lex's less-than-convinced response as Easton makes his case regarding Geoff and his fidelity. The woman's pulling her own phone out as Easton makes his way closer, and she's clicked it onto a text stream by the time he's near enough for the selfie. Turning to stare up at the half-naked man, and pointing at said text-screen. There you go -- she posed.

And then she's going back to actually /reading/ said text stream, snorting to herself and shaking her head in a way that sends a few tiny silver braids toppling over a tattooed shoulder. "Honey, we got rules in these places. You got in bed with Geoff, you stay in bed with Geoff. You want something pierced? I'm your girl. Your ink... is gonna have to wait 'til he's on shift.

"Look, first off, we were very drunk and it was the couch. And I'm preeetty sure I don't need any more holes." He spins around on the stool to face her again, and maybe for the first time actually looks at her. He tilts his head off to the side and says, "Yea, no. Not a good time for me to decide on that. Besides I already have enough extra metal bits." He taps his fake leg, and smiles, drunkenly as if this were some clever play on words.

"Hmm." He looks around the shop and then back at her and asks, "So. You can't ink me. I'm not up for extra puncture wounds." He appears to be considering something. "Can you at least point me in the direction of a good hookup?" He gets a slightly hopeful twinkle in his eye. "Geoff is being good. As he should. Good Geoff. But I c'd really use an oxy hookup."

Drunk Easton is not subtle. Well, neither is sober Easton. They have that in common.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, this town went even /deeper/ to hell..." is Lex's response to his request for a 'hook-up'. At least it didn't involve her pants? Or the lack there-of. That probably wouldn't have been a good idea with so many... piercing instruments nearby.

"Oh, hey," she's offering then, glancing down at her phone as it gives off its next insistent buzz. "He's cool if I fix your shit jobs. Nothin' new, though. You're his whore." She offers a smile then, cheek piercings giving her a /charming/ set of dimples.

"Clean out've oxy. Fuck, clean out've anything good. You find a hook up? Hook /me/ up." She sounds serious. Yeah, she's serious. "So what's it gonna be, Easton? We fix some of your idiocy, or you wanna go look for something to snort?" She didn't miss the wooden leg quip, but nor did she even spare said limb a glance.

He seems confused at first about the town going deeper to hell comment. Because he hasn't mentioned any of the myriad of craziness that could easily fall along those lines. But he keeps his mouth shut for now.

Looking down at his phone, at a picture text from Geoff he says carefully, "Uh. Maybe we should just do a consult? Talk about possible designs ... not sure he's as okay with it." The picture of Geoff with Bennie in the background both drinking in his trailer a possible sign that he's willing to break bro-code if Easton is. Blast you and your turn about!

"Aw. See, now I feel like that's the response I keep hitting." He is disappointed but not terribly surprised about the lack of a score. It takes time.

"Maybe I could see some of your original work?"

"Hey, it's your call. I can do repair work, but he's got dibs on the fresh meat." Or so Lex has interpreted the various texts from the other tattooist -- which seem to be coming to both of them, in one form or another. "Or a consult. Not like I got somebody waiting." There's a less-than-subtle roll of her eyes, and a pointed glance toward the door. Hey, it takes time to transition from drunken-city-life back to insane-but-small-town life. There might be monsters and conspiracy theorists, but there aren't /nearly/ as many stupid-yet-lucrative tramp stamps. Followed, naturally, but the repair work. That was the life.

"I'm pretty sure you can score weed around here, but if you're lookin' for any of the heavy shit, you're probably gonna have to hit downtown. You doin' /that/... well, then I can give some recommendations. 'Round here? You see shit /without/ the drugs."

"Yea, let's stick with consult until I can make sure Geoff's nose ain't actually bent about this. He's very sensitive." Easton looks very sincere for just a moment as he says this, until he adds, "Mostly his nipples." He maintains a straight face, but that's probably a joke. He looks at the door and shrugs, "Yea well good thing you were open, because you have me! Willing to pay for design work, even if Geoff is jealous of anyone else getting their hands on all " yes, there's a flourish of his hands down his bare torso, "this." But this time he at least laughs.

When she offers him some tips on where to score, he just nods and says "I will take any and all advice. But yea, weed's easy enough." But then she's talking about the town and he seems to sober up, just a touch. He nods and says, "Yea. I'm new round here, but fuckity dicks mcshadows has decided to give me a crash course." Yup, fuckity dicks mcshadows. Because pain-eater or darkmen or just shadows all sound too ominous. He looks her over again, as if trying to ascertain something about her glimmer or aspects, though he's far too impaired anyway. He asks, almost tenderly but certainly with the most genuine sincerity so far tonight, "You doing okay?"

Well, Lex is certainly shiny. As to what /type/ of shiny... well, that remains to be seen. Or felt. Or... well, we'll not get into /all/ of the possibilities. His lapse into sincerity has that eyebrow raising once more, the triplet piercings glinting in the light. You really should be able to see when you're drawing on people, right?

Another of those half-natural grins breaks her more characteristic smirk as he voices his opinion of... "Fuckity Dicks McShadows, mm? I take it you're new to town? Or if you ain't, you weren't on the radar a decade or so ago." Was that an insult or a compliment? After all, those who /were/ on the radar... well, there have been incidents with axes. So she's heard.

"Yup." Easton readily agrees to the name of the big bad that's haunting this town and all the shiny folks. At least in his very shaky understanding of the local mythology and life in general right about now. So. Shaky. He notices that she doesn't really answer his question, but well maybe she doesn't love drunk strange men, who are still shirtless for no good reason, asking after her welfare.

"I am new." He tries to follow but has to ask, "Who's radar? It's? Theirs? Yours? NSA?" The last one thrown in for a laugh, but who knows, maybe this is also a government conspiracy? Why not.

According to some, the NSA is /well/ aware of Gray Harbor. But the 'joke' does earn a slight smirk from the younger woman. "Mmm, sorry you had to... well, find this place? I'm guessin' things were a lot less... confusing wherever it is you came from." She sounds sincere. All too sincere.

"I was born here. This shit was 'normal' to me until I got shipped off to Seattle and stopped... well, things were pretty normal. Bitch mom and brat siblings, but hey, beat the whole... nightmares come true bit."

She hasn't backed away from him, for what it's worth. As for her state of being? Well... she's back in a town that she's just pronounced her hatred of. There's bound to be a tattoo about that. Somewhere. "People like us are drawn here, I think. If you came from somewhere else, you were unlucky enough to stumble in. Not sure why, but it's fuckin' hard to stumble out." Dryly spoken, with a frank expression toward Easton -- drunk or not.

Easton doesn't seem particularly sad about having found himself in Gray Harbor, though that definitely seems to change by the day or hour. He just shrugs and says, "Like you said, I felt like I was supposed to be here." Yea, like he was drawn here for a reason. Now if only he could figure out if that reason is good or bad.

"I think it's not all bad." He looks outside as if expecting the town to react to his feint praise for some reason.

"So. Anyway.. about that zombie bear, I'm thinking at least ex out the eyes, longer claws, maybe some tearaways in the fur..." He spins again so that his back is towards her as he talks, getting into the details of the design and less about the ooky spooky town.