When Dimitri told his employees that he was closing the shop for renovations, they cheered. Since the shop had a few years on it since Dimitri first opened, it needed new furniture, paint, flooring, and updated equipment. Since the renovations would take a month to complete, he planned to go hunting. However, none of his leads panned out. It seemed all the scumbags were being quiet. With no one to go after, he decided to take a vacation, traveling the country to find other artists and inspirations for his own works.
Dimitri is standing outside the third stop on his journey. A tattoo artist named Isaiah Kalama does beautiful work from the portfolio he had seen online. He hadn’t bothered dressing up, never did. He felt uncomfortable with such items that reminded him of the higher ranked duras’s back in his homeworld. He wore black jeans with a silver chain, a white tank top with a black jacket, and black boots. He had his lip ring and ear gages completing the ‘punk’ look that he preferred. If that didn’t put people off enough his black eyes with red pupils normally did the trick. With technology nowadays, it was easier to lie and say that he had tattooed his eyes and wore red contacts. It was better than the truth that they were his natural eyes. Lying about the brand was harder to get away with, as some people could tell that it was not a tattoo, especially fellow tattoo artists, but it was a lie he kept up if possible.
Dimitri enters the tattoo parlor and smiles at the first person he sees, “Hello, I’m looking for an artist by the name Isaiah Kalama? Is he in today?”
