The Art of Painting (open)

Guest

The public holiday had given him a chance to hop onto the Hogwarts Express and head to London. During the summer holidays, he had scored a freelance position with a tattoo parlour. He'd sold a few designs and during the school weeks, he'd gotten some custom orders. It was good pocket money and though he lost the rights to a piece once he sold it, the tattoo parlour had agreed to credit him with the design if a customer was particularly impressed with it. Through that, he'd get commissions to do one-of-a-kind designs. It was difficult with him in school and the only communication being e-mail. He'd do a sketch, send it back. If he was lucky, the customer would be satisfied. If not, they'd tell him what they wanted to change and he'd have to redo the design to their satisfaction. Certain people were fussy beyond belief and even more couldn't make up their minds. He'd make the changes they requested only for them to ask him to revert back to the original design. People were so hard to please.

The ride into the city was uneventful and Elleon got off the train, heading straight towards The Magic Ink. With him were five original designs as well as three personalized ones that a couple of rich kids wanted. The job didn't come without hazards. A few times, he'd gotten troll orders, guys ordering lewd designs and texts. He'd turned those down as politely as he could, only accepting the ones he was comfortable making.

It didn't take him long at all to find the place. A quick glance around the shop told him that it was a busy place. All the chairs were full of people either getting their tattoo or looking through design books while waiting for their turn. Seeing that all the staff were busy, Elleon quietly waited by the counter, content with watching the activity around him while waiting.

Guest

[[OOC: Plotted with Lyd; change of timeline is agreed upon. She'll edit her post when she can. Also, Lyd -- sorry it's short, not a lot of Delia muse. xD]]

A short, couple-of-days long holiday had been announced -- a public holiday of some sort that Delia didn't care about -- and she'd opted to leave Hogwarts. While she couldn't perform magic yet, she could still have her freedom. Her mother hand long since signed a permission form, allowing her to get a tattoo despite not being of age just yet, although Delia hadn't followed up on it. There were so many things she wanted, so many ideas, that she hadn't been able to choose. Besides, she wanted something that truly captured her, and nothing less.

That, however, did not stop her from going to tattoo shops around the world -- quite literally -- searching their books and designs for ideas. So far, she'd found none. One day, though, she knew she'd come across something that spoke to her, and she'd get it. For now, she satisfied herself with merely looking.

Stepping into the somewhat crowded store, Delia glanced around, taking in the atmosphere. She'd been there a few times before, and the staff recognised her by now, and she nodded a greeting at them. They seemed too busy for her to talk to just yet, but that didn't bother her. She didn't mind waiting and looking at the catalogue for anything new. Maybe this time she'd see something she liked or felt drawn to.

As she approached the counter to grab a booklet, her eyes were drawn to the male already there, and a smile broke out on her lips. Almost immediately, her phone was out of her pocket and in her hands, and she quickly typed in a message before walking over and confidently tapping the male on the shoulder once. Grinning, she handed him the phone.

Dude, the f*** you doing here? Didn't know you were into tats.

Guest

Elleon had just paused through his casual scan of a design book on the counter. It was a drawing of a tiger lily and the detail and strokes of the design had captured his interest. Whoever had drawn it up had quite a good eye. Each line had been carefully planned and yet drawn in such a way that looked effortless and spontaneous, as if the artist had made it on a whim.

He looked for a signature at the bottom, something to tell him the mastermind behind the design. There was nothing. Frowning a little, he scanned it once more. Every artist had their own tells, and a keen eye could tell who was holding the pen when there was no signature - provided they had seen previous work from the same artist. But Elleon couldn't find anything that popped out. He'd just have to ask one of the staff later.

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. It didn't startle him as it would a Hearing person. Part of his life was people tapping on him to get his attention. Turning around, he saw that it was Delia. He gave her a grin, taking the phone from her and reading what it said, almost chuckling at her words. His fingers flew across the keyboard, typing out a response to her.

I'm not. I do original designs and sell them. I also do personalised orders. Great way of making some money. You here for a tat?

Guest

Of all the people she expected to see at a tattoo place, Elleon was not one of them. He typically seemed so uptight, more so than some of the Purebloods she knew. He questioned her first selfie, didn't really talk much about anything private... In any case, to see him at a tattoo shop looking at tattoos surprised her. Needles weren't something many people liked, after all.

Taking back the phone, she glanced at the message and grinned. Of course he did. It made much more sense than what she first thought or expected, and she smiled. It did seem like a good way to make money, if money was needed; she herself had no need to work, but she could see how selling art would be a good sourse of income. Quickly, she typed back a response.

Not exactly. Want 2 get 1, but can't find 1 I like. Been looking 4 a while now n hvn't found anything nice. Wat do u draw? Can I see some of ur designs?

Holding it back out, Delia shrugged. She wanted a tattoo that suited her, that she claimed as her own. So far, none that she'd seen had stood out; some were too big, other too small, and others just too ugly. Still, she knew that she'd find one eventually. She was patient enough to wait, after all.

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