When the bell rung above the door Gregoire was in the store room moving some things around. He'd just gotten a new shipment of Flukes Ever-Changing FillerQuills so he wanted to get them stocked before he left tonight. He had to set his own goals, be boss and employee, because other than the random apprentice tattoo artist he didn't really have any workers. Gregoire didn't mind too much but it would be nice to have some help. Some days he felt like he did everything but art at his own art shop and that made him a bit uneasy. He was the type of guy who needed to put ink to paper, or skin, to feel whole, to feel relaxed. As he heard someone enterring the shop he grabbed the large box with both hands, lifted it, and carried it out of the back room with some difficulty. Who knew quills could be so heavy?
He had reached the end of the hall, carboard in front of his face before he registered what she was saying. His sleeves covered the tattoos on his forearms and the black jeans he was wearing hid the rest until he set the box down on the counter. He smiled at her, listening to her little speech and nodding. First impression he got was that she was entirely too proper for a job like this. Everyone who'd worked here in the past shared at least one or two things with Gregoire's brand of style. Tattoos, strange hair, piercings, punk clothing, but she didn't really seem to fit the bill. He wasn't the type to judge though so he decided to give her a fair chance.
"What's your name?" He asked simply before pushing up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos that flooded his skin. As he turned his back to her the tattoos running up his neck into his scalp were set on display and he flicked his wand at the box. The quills began to float out of the box seamlessly and the French man used his magic to guide the first one, the others quickly falling in line, before he turned back to her.
"Opening's for a salesclerk, means you'll be cleaning, helping, stocking, and pretty much just minding things while I'm in back." He nodded toward the hallway he'd just come out of. The stock room was on one side but on the other was a set of smaller tattooing parlour rooms each with their own chair and equipment.
"Wanna' tell me what makes you good for it?"