#damien;thread

Did Damien know his apartment complex's policy on pets?

No.

Did he care?

Also, conveniently, no.

Besides, snakes were very quiet, and he was lonely at home, something he absolutely hated. As much as he took pains to be alone, he never wanted to be lonely. While a cat or dog might have been a more clear choice, even a bunny, hamster, guinea pig, bird... Damien had his mind set. He wanted a snake. Something that didn't seem to be big on love and cuddles (maybe a fish would also do).

The problem was that every time he tried to pierce his ear with a needle, it got infected. And yeah, maybe that should have been a sign that he ought to go to an actual tattoo or piercing parlor and shell out some money to get it done. But that wasn't what he was going for, it didn't fit his image. If he was honest he kind of enjoyed when it got infected.

Still, he wanted to do it for real and he wanted to do it for his damn self. So he waited until the Claire's was busy, which meant that it was overrun with tweens and moms, and strode inside, confident, as if he belonged there.

The piercing counter was in the back corner, and he wandered over to it, looking at random items on the racks and walls as he went, until he got to the counter and pulled open a drawer. There it was, the object of his greatest desires (at the moment): the piercing gun. He grabbed it, shoved it into the backpack he was holding, and turned around — only to see a dude staring at him.