“i’ll be with you in a second !” hazel calls through permanent record. it’s like she has eyes in the back of her head; her gaze doesn’t lift, attention settled on the screen of her laptop, but the chime of the bell on the shop’s door tells her all she needs to know. with the other two artists’ guns buzzing away in the background, it’s hazel that’s left seeing to the individual who’s decided to wander into the parlour, and after making sure the supply order goes through ( buying cling film, paper towels, disposable razors, and various other thrilling items in bulk isn’t exactly her favourite part of the job, but it has to be done ) and successfully closing down photoshop, that’s exactly what she does. as she emerges from her station at the back of the shop, hazel offers the figure a smile. “hi ! sorry about that, kinda had my hands full,” she says, hand lifting to the counter to turn down the music playing through the building. it’d been a quiet day, and the customers currently wincing through the sore spots didn’t seem to mind the unholy trinity known as permanent record’s tattoo artists making the most of it by playing the music a little louder. “what can i do for ya ?”