such great heights [greg]

A tinkle of a bell rang overhead as Tara pushed open the door to the shop and a wave of familiarity and déjà vu washed over. Graffiti is Art Too, with its black leather chairs, its stingy scent of antiseptic in the air, and its whirring buzz of ink guns on skin, were a comfort to her. She hadn't worked there in years but she still came by often to visit Greg.

Speaking of her friend, she spied him with a client toward the back and not wanting to interrupt, Tara took up a seat in one of the empty chairs, nodding a hello to Stork, one of Greg's current employees. She watched with curious eyes as G conversed with a blonde bombshell whose legs seemed to stretch all the way to her boobs. Greg was walking Blondie out and then it was just her, him and Stork.

"You couldn't get her to seal the deal?" Tara asked Greg as soon as the door was shut behind Blondie. "That should have been an easy one." Tara flicked her hair off her shoulder and sat up a little straighter. "Like oh my god," Tara began, her voice high and sarcastic. "I totally want to get a tattoo of like an angel with devil's horns." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and smacked a pretend piece of gum in her mouth. "Or maybe like a heart with sparkles?" Tara said in a mocking impression of what most girls came into this shop looking for.

Then she grinned with a wicked gleam in her eye and sank back into the chair. "How's everything been, G?"

The young woman standing in front of him was as indecisive as she had been for the last twenty minutes as she flipped through the pages of the flash art binders Gregoire kept in stock for just these occasions. So often witches and wizards came in wanting a tattoo but having no idea what they wanted. While Gregoire was always ready to help them make a selection he very much preferred tattooing things that actually had meaning to their owners. All of his tattoos held some kind of meaning to him, even the tiniest ones had a story, and to the French artist that was half the point of even getting them. He wasn't one to turn away a paying customer though and if she was just going to get something rudimentary it would be a good time to let one of the apprentices take a shot. The attractive blond flipped her air has her heels clicked on the paint stained floor, it seemed she wasn't finding anything suitable. Gregoire kept a small, friendly smile on his face as he tried to seem approachable even though she couldn't make up her mind. He hated going into tattoo shops and feeling unwanted when he was younger so he made sure that was never the case at his shop.

The bell above the door rang as the woman flipped the back of the binder closed and turned to him with a sigh. "Maybe you should think on it?" He offered, friendly as ever, "Getting a tattoo is not something to take lightly." His gray eyes shot toward the door as he saw who was coming in and the smile on his lips became a real one instantly. He always enjoyed Tara's visits. Turning back to the woman as she seemed a little disappointed he brushed a large hand over her arm, up from her elbow, reassuringly. "Take a few days, think about things that have significance to you, and then come back. We can work together and I'm sure you will be pleased." The woman nodded in agreement and turned to walk out the door, Gregoire's eyes didn't follow her, although Stork's seemed to be pasted on her rear end as she moved. Instead he was focused on the witch who had just entered and he set down the binder he was holding before she began her little performance. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head at her. She was outspoken, he was used to that, and he was amused by her. Gregoire would never say such a thing himself but in a way he agreed with her. It could be a little annoying when people like the woman who just left came in. It was tedious and left him no room for creativity when they just picked some random image from a book.

Chuckling just a little bit more he crossed the room and sank into the chair next to hers, separated by a small table with some tattooing and art magazines scattered across it. "Same as always, helping the rebel kids rebel, helping the women with daddy issues get something they can show off with their small clothes on." Gregoire wasn't usually the type to bad mouth anyone but he also wasn't a super stiff. Get him drunk and he'd seem like any entirely different person, no filter at all. He leaned back into the chair, tired from the long day of work, and pointed behind him with his thumb, toward the street front. "Don't worry she'll be back I wager, and with a picture of a butterfly or a dolphin, if I had to guess." He laughed again before turning toward her in the chair. "How about you, what sort of trouble have you been up to lately?" He asked with a smile on his face, knowing her life was probably loads more interesting than his. She jumped from place and job like it was nobodies business and she was hella fast on a broom. In some circles she was even quite famous for it. Gregoire chewed absently on his lip ring as he waited for her reply.

Tara grinned at Greg when he chuckled at her antics and sat back in her chair, her fingers lightly tracing the top of the chair's arms. She nodded with twinkling eyes as he spoke and smirked, "It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it, right?" She followed his hand where he gestured and her eyes popped wider as she laughed. "Yes, a butterfly. She's definitely a butterfly type of girl."

Her eyes traced the inky black lines on his neck that disappeared under the collar of his shirt, the skin pulling as he spoke, and Tara found herself just as mesmerized as she always had been with tattoos. Meeting his eyes, she said, "Oh, the usual. Work, bartending, racing.." The last word with emphasis as glee seeped into her tone and her eyes. "I won the race against Razor last weekend," she admitted, her green eyes sparkling. And I made bank from it too, she added to herself.

"When are you going to come to another race?" Tara asked with a tilt of her head, her long dark hair falling off her shoulder in a silky curtain. "It's about time I took some more money from you, right?" She teased, remembering the last time he had come to a race that he had made a bet against her and had lost some money on it. There wasn't many thing she was an expert at, but she was pretty damn good at racing and she knew it.

Glancing around, her eyes fell on the chairs, the ink guns, the pieces of art on the walls, Stork, and finally back to Greg. "I miss it here," she told him, a twinge of reminiscence on her voice. She turned in the chair and grabbed one of the ink guns and held it up, pointed at G. "Think I still got it?" she asked with a grin. When she had worked here, she really hadn't been a tattoo artist, leaving that to more of the creative souls Greg hired. But she had become familiar with how to use it and had even tattooed a few letters on a friend after they had had too much to drink one night. "Want an original Tara Kingsley masterpiece?" she offered, though not sure if there would be any blank skin left on him and the areas that were probably still un-inked were not areas Tara wanted to be familiar with.

The word racing caught his attention and pale blue eyes turned toward her face. It was obvious that it was her life's passion and Gregoire could respect that. "Did you really?" He asked, knowing the name Razor and knowing that was quite the feat. "Nice." He said with a friendly smile. Gregoire enjoyed going to the races but it had been so long since he had. They were like their own separate world. They had their own culture, customs, and everything and Gregoire ate that up. He loved immersing societies like that, it was one of the things that had made him fall in love with tattooing so quickly. "Oh no, I won't be making the same mistake twice." He said in reply to her comment about making money off of him. He had bet against her the last time he went and he had left with a few less coin than he had planned to. He should of known better than to bet against her but her opponent seemed more experienced, he thought he made a logical decision. "Let me know when the next one is." Gregoire sat forward in the chair and pivoted toward her a little. He really needed to get out more, and not just to the bar a few doors down. He needed to get back the social life he had let fall apart. He used to be pretty active, used to know a lot of people, but recently he had kind of let it all slip away.

His eyes followed her as she picked up one of the tattoo guns and the corners of his mouth turned up with a smirk. Tara hadn't worked at the shop long enough for Gregoire to consider her a master at tattooing but she was further along than some he had let apprentice there. At least she wasn't afraid to poke people with needles, like another of his students, because that was kind of a big part of the job. He laughed out loud and shook his head at her. "Depends on what you feel like drawing." Gregoire didn't have much real estate left when it came to skin but he was certain he could find a small patch of bareskin for her to tattoo on. He was always down to get another tattoo it didn't matter that she didn't have proper training or that he didn't know what she might ink onto him. He trusted that she wouldn't intentionally give him blood poisoning and that was really all the assurance he needed. Even if she put something ridiculous on him it wouldn't bother him too much, it'd make for a good story. Gregoire was always pretty relaxed when it came to stuff like that. If he was worried about other people's opinions he wouldn't of gotten any tattoos let alone done his whole body up in them.

He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and found a spot on his forearm, near the inside of his elbow, that had a few inches of bare skin. "Just no butterflies, yeah?" He said with a laugh and held his arm out toward her. It was a dare, in its own way. She had offered to tattoo him and she probably assumed he would deny so they only thing he could do was call her bluff. He wondered if she would go through with it. He wondered if she even remembered how. "The on switch is on the side." He whispered, with a sarcastic tone of voice, and chuckled again.

Tara nodded with a grin. "You should've seen him acting like a git after he lost. I hear he bet a lot of money on that race." If it was possible, she looked even more pleased with herself knowing that she had won and he had lost and she had probably went home with a large share of his money. "Good," she said with a quick laugh and the nodded. "I'll owl you when the date is set for the next one. Shouldn't be too long now," she said, her eyes glittering with devilment. "Can't keep Ace away from the people for too long. Gotta give them what they want."

Her eyebrows rose as he rolled up his shirt and suddenly this whole game was just that much more exciting. Was he really going to... he spoke and she grinned brightly, moving to the edge of her chair. She heard the challenge in his voice and while hints of uncertainty surfaced within her over not having done this is so long, Tara wasn't one to back down from a challenge. And then Greg's snarky whisper made her laugh, her head tilted back and she was a goner. Meeting his eye, she grinned at him. "Shut it or I'll give you a pink butterfly."

Glancing down at his arm, she found a tiny space near the inside of his elbow and it didn't take her long to decide exactly what she wanted to permanently put into his skin. She held the ink gun in her left hand and held his arm steady with her right and paused. "Last chance," she said, throwing the challenge right back at him. Best part was she wasn't going to tell him what she was tattooing. He would have to see for himself when she was finished.

As he rolled up his sleeve and called on her dare offered her a little smile, toothy and lopsided as usual. Normally he'd assume the other person would back down long before he did but he'd known Tara long enough to know she could still surprise him. He laughed at the pink butterfly comment, he did not want a pink butterfly, but if she gave him one he supposed he wouldn't hate her forever. He shook his head at her and the thought of him donning a particularly girly bug on his forearm and then he settled himself in the chair. She said last chance and he didn't blink. "Do your worse Ms. Kindsley..." He said, still playing the game. "But ya know... don't really do your worst cause' I will have to wear this for the rest of my life...." The process of tattooing had changed quite a bit now that they was magic involved but tattoos were still permanent. There were plenty of concealing spells that one could use to cover them up but they would never go away, not really.

"Remember to hold your hand steady," He began his usual speech when it came to training apprentices on how to tattoo. It was a fine art and a real science but when it came down to it it was all about the proper technique. And it was something that came with time and practice. Gregoire had had a lot of it in his lifetime but she had only been in the shop for a few months before she passed through onto her next gig. In a way he envied her lifestyle. Always on the move. Always something new. Yet at the same time he wouldn't change his life even if he had the chance. He looked around the shop as the familiar sound of the tattoo gun buzzing soothed his senses, he loved it here. It smelt like acrylic paint and parchment, it was decorated his way, he could wear what he wanted, no ties or blazers for this man. It was his own little slice of perfect and he had carved it out all by himself. He felt proud, and then he felt the need.

"Don't stretch the skin Tara, you're lines won't connect proper if you do..." He wasn't mean about it, it wasn't even nagging, just him trying to show her the one thing he was good at. He poured his soul into tattoos and he wanted others to appreciate just how much they really took. And he liked teaching. He had taught a semester of art at Beauxbatons once, as a substitute, and it was one of his most favorite memories. The little kids with their bright ideas and sticky painted fingers. "You're doing great, just don't forget to breath." He offered her a smile and tried to hold his forearm as still as was humanly possible. He was intrigued to figure out what she was drawing so he tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better view from a different angle but he had no idea. "So what are you putting on me?" He asked as the machine continued to whir.

"You asked for it," she teased him with a grin and a spark in her green eyes. Seeing the inky black lines, the colored shapes, the art on his skin made her want to touch her fingers to his skin just to trace the designs, but she held back and instead glanced up at him. "You coulda said no." Then she laughed, short and sweet, as she shook her head, her brown hair falling about her shoulders softly.

She held the ink gun in her hand and it was both familiar but strange. She remembered the feel of it but it was still almost unknown to her. For a moment, she doubted whether she could do this or not. But then Greg's low voice rolled over her and she dug for that steely strength she always relied on. I can f*cking do this, she told herself as she straightened her spine and threw him a quick grin. "Yeah, yeah, I got it," she replied in response to his instruction. And then she took his advice even if she wasn't willing to admit it and focused on steadying her left hand.

Tara put the needle to his skin and then drew it back, testing as he had taught her to see if his reaction to the pinprick. But as she expected, Greg was a seasoned pro and barely moved at the touch of the needle. So she lowered her head once again and went to work. She smiled to herself as she set about the tattoo, already impatient for his reaction when he saw what she had inked into his skin. She was so focused that his low voice almost made her jump. "I know," she replied softly even as she loosened her grip on his skin so she was, in fact, not stretching it. Greg had always been so good at teaching, and usually in a way that she didn't completely mind. In a small way, her heart squeezed as she recalled how much she had liked hanging out with Greg when she had worked here in his shop and how much she had missed that.

Memories of yesterday swirled in her mind as the buzz of the ink gun droned on in the background. Her hand stilled as she laughed quietly at his next comment and she rolled her eyes a bit. But she definitely wasn't going to admit that she had been holding her breath a little. He probably already knew. "I'm not telling you," she told him a sing-song voice and a sly smile, as she paused briefly to flick her eyes up to him. "You'll just have to wait and see."

She began again, almost finished now with the little tattoo she was giving him, proud of her progress so far. And she began thinking of her own ink, one he knew about and one she was pretty sure he didn't. "I was thinking about getting another.." she mentioned casually. "Maybe a dolphin," she added, a smile on her voice.

Gregoire watched as his protege worked her magic and then let his eyelids slid down. Getting tattoos had always been soothing to him. Sure there were always certain parts of his body that were extra sensitive to the needles touch but he'd gotten so many of them now that one in this location didn't even phase him. He let the buzzing sounds sooth him as he got comfortable in the cushy chair but made sure not to move his arm. She was dead set on not telling him what she was tattooing so Gregoire decided to stop asking. He leaned into the surprise of it and it was actually kind of thrilling. It'd been a while since a tattoo excited him the way this one was. He felt her relaxing on his skin and was thankful she was still taking his instructions. He'd spent enough time with her to know that Tara Kingsley did what Tara Kingsley wanted, and he admired that quality, but not when a needle in her hand was so close to some important veins. He let out a chuckle when she stated that she was thinking about getting another tattoo. He wanted to give her more tattoos, she had excellent skin for it.

As a tattoo artist Gregoire didn't exactly get to chose the quality of his canvas and some times he missed that. He hated when he had to tattoo skin that was just unreliable. It stretched funny, had weird lumps or blemishes in just the wrong spot. It was weird but it was true that one wrong located freckle could change the look of an entire tattoo. Tara had that perfect porcelain skin, it took to ink well, and it was smooth and firm because she was young. It was one of the best kinds of skin for it. "A dolphin?" He asked incredulously and opened one pale blue eye lazily to stare at her before laying his head back down. "Maybe a dolphin with a rocket launcher strapped to his fin, that'd be more suiting for you." There were a lot of words he could use to describe one of his former employees but dainty and delicate like a dolphin was not one of them.

Unless she was getting it because of the other, less kosher, trait that dolphins shared with humans. Dolphins were the only other species on the planet that had sex for fun... he wondered if that was where she was going with the tattoo but he decided to keep that snippet to himself. "You gonna' add color to it?" He asked, head still laid back on the chair and eyes closed. If she wanted to he wouldn't mind but she was using one of the machines that would have to have the colors manually changed. He would of let her use a magical one if she wanted to but the traditional ones were just more real for Gregoire. They had the real pain, real sensations, and he was a traditionalist in this matter. "Can I look yet?" He said as his leg started to bounce a little. He was growing impatient but more importantly he was growing hungry. "We should go to the hole and get some lunch?" He nodded in the direction of the Goblin Hole, a local dive down the street, that he frequented at least three times a week. The food was shit and the staff was worse but it was an affordable meal.

She was almost finished now and the grin that fell about her lips was impossible to quell. Tara flicked her green eyes in his direction only to find a picture of Greg seemingly completely relaxed, eyes closed. She was all of a sudden tempted to punch him where it counted just for being unaware, but she resisted the urge considering she was holding the tattoo gun in one hand. Still. The struggle was real.

"A rocket?" she repeated with a laugh, looking at him before he closed his eyes once more. "I'm not getting a f*cking dolphin rocket," she said with a shake of her head, rolling the chair around and setting to work once again on Greg's nearly finished tattoo courtesy of the one and only Tara Kingsley. "It's just.. I don't think I can stop with two tats. I've been itching for another and it's been a while since you did the last one." She spoke softly and slowly, her tone and rhythm of voice echoing the way she inked his skin. She just had to be smart about them because her parents definitely wouldn't approve. That's probably why her lip tattoo had been such a delicious conquest for her.

"No color," she answered, finishing the last part. She wasn't as patient as Greg was at this and she didn't think she had enough of it to add anything other than the simple letters she had created. "I'm done," Tara said, the excitement lacing her voice and making her green eyes dance. "Look, look," she told him as she moved her hands away from his arm and set the ink gun down on the cart. Inked in black onto his skin, in a little spot that had somehow been left untouched after all of his other tattoos were three little letters. Clear and neat, but telling. It spelled out 'TKO' and Tara had a shit-eating smile on her face. "Now you'll always have my initials on you, but to save face so you don't look completely whipped, you can just tell people it's for 'total knock out' and keep the real reason to yourself."

With that, she winked at him and laughed and then stood, pushing her hair over one shoulder as she pulled on her jacket. "I'm hungry for those sweet potato fries. You game?"