InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Unlike some OTHER Robin Hoods"

Benjamin Kohler † (bound_benjamin) wrote in bound_rp,
@ 2013-12-27 00:00:00

Entry tags:

benjamin kohler, ezra winters, in progress, private

SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT...

Date: Saturday, December 1, 2012
Time: Around 1:30 in the afternoon.
Location: Rebel Underground
Status: Private, In Progress.
Warnings: Explicit Language and Juvenile Delinquency
Characters: Ezra Winters and Benjamin Kohler
Description: 'Sure thing, McLovin... That license is super legit. Let's get you inked.'

The interior of Rebel Underground wasn't entirely what one might have expected or imagined. The studio was kept in pristine condition and smelled faintly of sandalwood incense that Benjamin had lit earlier. The leather love- seats were inviting, magazine racks well organized, portfolios prominently displayed, and the walls were lined with an array of pre-made tattoo designs for uncertain customers to peruse. Glass cases contained various gauges of piercing paraphernalia and a wide assortment of healing ointments to apply to brand new ink. From the stereo equipment hidden in the paneled ceiling, the White Stripes currently serenaded those within the studio at a volume that certain individuals would consider to be a little too loud.

Situated in a leather office chair, located behind the reception desk, Benjamin appeared to be in a world wholly his own. His mechanical pencil maneuvered feverishly over what would have otherwise been nothing more than a stark white piece of sketch paper. Since this hour of the day tended to bring a lull in business, he was taking the opportunity to work on potential designs for a customer he would see later that evening. His focus fell fully on the dragon he was conjuring forth on the page. It was rather spectacular and would prove to be a stunning tattoo once color was applied. Benjamin knew that his client would be overjoyed with this creation - when all was said and done. Still, he intended to offer the man a few options. Flipping to a new page in his sketch book, the artist began to draw yet another dragon. This one seemed overtly cruel and ferocious. Its dark eyes pierced through the page; threatening to burst forth and set his business in flames with one blast of dragon fire. Given Benjamin's magical gifts, it seemed unwise to finish that particular sketch. He tore out the page and unceremoniously tossed it into the trash bin. Dealing with an irate dragon? Not the best way to spend an afternoon - if at all avoidable. The dark witch sincerely doubted that his current insurance covered acts of dragon destruction!!!

After coming up with another half-dozen tattoo options for his client, Benjamin seriously debated going out for a cigarette. It was then that the studio’s phone rang and cut that internal debate short. "Hello, you've reached Rebel Underground. How can I be of service?" The woman on the other end of the phone clearly learned English from one of Charlie Brown's teachers and obviously had no understanding of punctuation. He could barely make out what she was trying to ask of him, but he made a valiant attempt to respond. "We're open till 10:00pm on Saturdays… And yes walk-ins are welcome." That seemed to suffice, judging by her muffled 'Thank you'. "Anytime." After hanging up the phone, Benjamin just shook his head. People like her were further incentive to hire an assistant. With that thought in mind, he opened up his laptop and began to type up help wanted advertisements for the local newspaper. Hopefully, he'd finally get a few worthy applicants... But Benjamin had absolutely no intentions of holding his breath.

EVIL MASTERMIND seeks minions to sacrifice their lives in pursuit of world domination attempt. Must be prepared to work 24-7 for a deranged psychopath and no pay. Messy death inevitable, but costumes and laser death rays provided. No, amusing as that might be… He seriously needed a few loyal employees who were not afraid to get their hands dirty, could keep dark secrets, and would look away if a situation call for it. But how exactly did someone advertise and/or screen for that? His index finger beat the hell out of the laptop's backspace button until nothing remained on the screen. Benjamin was going to make another attempt when the little bell attached to the entrance chimed; heralding a new arrival. His icy blue gaze landed squarely on the young man lurking in the threshold. Maybe he was lost? There was no way in hell that the boy was eighteen. It wasn't long after 'Icky Thump' came to an end and was replaced by Rotersand's 'Random Is Resistance'. Before offering up greetings, Benjamin tilted his head to take in the sight of the familiar looking lad. "Welcome to Rebel Underground..."

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bound_ezra
2014-05-16 06:03 pm UTC (link)

Ezra was incredibly nervous, and had spent the better part of fifteen minutes pacing outside of the shop, as he rubbed his hands over his fake ID. He thought the fake ID was pretty authentic looking, but he didn't know much about them, and had no idea that it in fact looked more like a piece of cardboard covered in laminate. He took a deep breath before he wrapped his fingers around the door handle and opened the door slowly. The Tattoo parlor had a clean smell, which put him a little more at ease. This wasn't some run down sort of rusty needle tattoo shop. It was clean, neat, and very tasteful, in his opinion. His eyes followed the floor all the way to the voice that welcomed him inside.

He walked timidly across the floor, to the man across the room. "Oh. Uh. I'd like one tattoo please." He said with a smile, as if he was ordering a cheeseburger. He clearly had no experience. Before the man could say anything, he tried again. "Lets get some ink to slingin'...?" He said as he tried again. This was no use. Why did he ever think he could pull this off? Ezra scratched his head awkwardly, with a little tilt. "I..." He paused for a moment. "uhhh yeah."

He was so nervous his body was almost trembling. He wasn't too wild about needles, and was beginning to have second thoughts. Thoughts of his last doctor's visit flashed through his head. It was chaos. He screamed and shouted, and yet that didn't stop him from getting that last round of shots. Actually the only reason he was got those shots was because six nurses held him over a table with his pants around his ankles while the doctor immunized him. The time before that, he had to be sedated. Why had he thought that this would be any different? He was bound and determined to get this tattoo, and maybe a navel piercing. Men seemed to like women with navel piercings. Perhaps Michael would like him even more with a navel piercing. He was crazy about that boy, and would do anything to make him happy.

"Maybe..." He touched his belly. "a piercing too?"

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bound_benjamin
2014-05-17 02:49 pm UTC (link)

It was almost as though there was a bright neon sign hovering over the boy's head!

The young man's body language needed absolutely no translation; his nerves and apprehension were palpable as he timidly made his way into Rebel Underground. Benjamin found himself shaking his head as he idly pushed his sketch book aside. He'd tattooed minors in the past, but those were done under very special circumstances. The only thing preventing him from immediately sending the kid packing was the simple fact that a sigil he'd recently carved into his upper thigh was tingling; subtly announcing the presence of another witch. Any more insight into the young man's magical abilities required focused concentration and closer proximity. Benjamin stood up from behind the reception desk, folded his arms loosely across his chest, and then proceeded to offer the teenager a slightly sideways grin. 'Ink slinging...? Oh, for fuck's sake, is this kid serious?' The older, darker witch successfully managed to refrain from laughing as the boy continued to awkwardly fumble his words. In no way did the teen belong in a tattoo shop, but at least he had enough common sense to find his way to a reputable establishment and not some sketchy hellhole that recycled their used needles. He had to wonder if the young man's parents were aware of what their son was up to...

'While I'm not at all above contributing to the delinquency of minors or corrupting innocent young minds, I really should ask...' "Just how old are you anyways? Do you have ID or written permission from a legal guardian?" Benjamin believed he already knew the answers to the questions he'd asked, but he figured it would be entertaining to watch the young man squirm under blatant scrutiny. Casually bending at the waist, he leaned forward, and set his elbows to rest on the surface of the reception desk. With a nonchalant nod of his head, he silently beckoned the boy to come closer. Blue eyes remained fixed on the teenager as Benjamin continued on with a more serious line of questioning. "Is there any particular reason you want to get yourself inked and pierced at this point in time?" 'Eighteen not soon enough for you or do you just want to piss off your parental units?' Not that it really mattered one way or another. "... And aside from the possibility of a naval piercing, what were you thinking of getting tattooed?" Benjamin hadn't decided if he was going to aid in what seemed to be a mild act of rebellion just yet... It really depended on what he could learn about the boy and what motivated his desire to face Benjamin's tattoo machine in all its glory. If his determination was unwavering, he could always go elsewhere to get his tattoo and piercing done... Better it be Rebel Underground. At least that way, Benjamin could ensure that the work was done right and the boy's health wouldn't be put in jeopardy.

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bound_ezra
2014-05-17 07:35 pm UTC (link)

Ezra said nothing for almost an entire minute before he was summoned to the desk. He sputtered for a second nervously, before opening his mouth to answer the questions he was asked. He fiddled in his pockets and pulled out his fake ID, and handed it to Benjamin. It read John Smith, and it showed that he was exactly eighteen years old, to the day. Something that he hadn't noticed, actually. "I'm eighteen. You know, legal to smoke, and get tattoos. You know, all that cool stuff, that I can do now because I'm legal...and stuff." He added, with a nervous giggle.

"Oh...well you see...I...like stuff, and something means a lot to me, and I want to put it on my body." He replied, still a little nervous, but adamant in his desire to 'get inked'.

"Oh. Well I want to get a line of snowflakes....down there." He said as he traced the area of his lower abdomen, right on the line created by his slenderness that ended right below his hip bones. "I can pay in cash." He said as he opened his wallet to reveal two one-hundred dollar bills. "Cash talks, right?" He asked, hoping that would sway the tattoo man a little.

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bound_benjamin
2014-05-17 11:06 pm UTC (link)

The silence seemed to stretch out endlessly as he waited for the young man to open up his mouth. It was somewhat amusing to watch the younger witch sputter and fidget beneath his gaze. Benjamin took the fake ID that he'd been handed and chuckled softly. 'I've seen monkeys piece together more convincing IDs...' "John Smith, huh? Did you happen to get this ID at the bottom of a cereal box?" Abruptly straightening up; Benjamin reached for a pair of scissors that were stowed beneath the reception desk and boldly cut the obviously fake ID into diagonal quarters. It was too pathetic to exist in the world and wouldn't fool anyone. Despite the fact that he'd destroyed the ID... Benjamin was still listening to the boy and didn't seem intent on pointing the young man towards the exit. If the kid wanted to briefly wander off the path of straight and narrow, who was he to argue? Benjamin had done far worse in his lifetime. "Cash talks, but you shouldn't... If I agree to do your tattoo and piercing you can't tell anyone that it was done here or by me. Do you understand that, Mr. Smith?" The last thing he really wanted to deal with today were irate parents knocking at his door.

He took hold of his mechanical pencil and sketch pad, prepared to do a few preliminary drawings if the kid didn't already have an image in mind. "I'd rather not see you resort to some half-wit tattooist found in a sleazy back alley shop who has no idea what he's doing... Consider yourself lucky to have caught me in a good mood." Benjamin smiled warmly; perhaps in an attempt to calm the boy's nerves. "What's the significance of the snowflakes? Born in winter? Like to ski or snowboard? Have a secret snowman fetish? If so... No judgement." The witch chuckled lightly before he absently began to sketch a line of snowflakes on the blank page before him. "If you don't know exactly what you want and you're looking for inspiration, there are posters on the wall that might be helpful. I can also come up with a few design suggestions. Just make damn sure you choose a tattoo that you want on your body permanently, because removal can be a real bitch. Then you should take a peek at the case over there..." Benjamin pointed to the display of starter studs and rings that would be used to pierce the young man's navel. "Once the piercing fully heals you can upgrade to a more appealing stud or ring."

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bound_ezra
2014-05-18 08:46 pm UTC (link)

"Yeah...Mr.John Smith, in the flesh, in person, right here in front of you, on this plane of existence..." He prattled on nervously. He had never been that nervous in his life. "No, of course not. I got it at the Driver's License Office...place." He watched curiously as Benjamin reached for the scissors. "No!" He practically shouted as he cut the fake license into pieces. "I paid good...I mean...now I'll have to wait in line at the Driver's License Place all over again." His eyes darted around with each lie. He was not good at that at all.

"I won't tell anyone." He said as he made a zipping motion over his lips. "Oh, um yes. I understand." He said with a nod, a little more at ease. It seemed like he was going to get what he wanted after all. He smiled widely, eyes crinkling at the edges. The only other person who smiled like that was his older sister, who would be pissed if she found out he had decided to get a tattoo without her knowledge, but he was almost eighteen.

"I just like them...I like the cold, and winter is my favorite season." Truthfully the snowflakes were a throwback to to his last name Winters, and to his witch power. "I promise, no snowman fetish." He added, just to make sure there was absolutely no confusion.

"Here, let me show you what I want." He said as he grabbed a blue pen, and a piece of paper, and sketched out what he wanted. He was a talented sculptor, but not a drawer by any means, but it was a good enough rendering that perhaps Benjamin would get the idea and improve it. "Oh, just over there?" He asked before he walked to the display, and pulled out a simple metallic teal ball with a small bar. He had a small frame, so the small ball and bar were perfect for his small navel.

"Ok...I guess I'm ready." He said as he took a few big breaths, psyching himself up.

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bound_benjamin
2014-05-20 10:47 am UTC (link)

The young 'Mr. Smith's' objections to having his driver's license destroyed came as no real surprise. Benjamin had absolutely nothing to say in response to the poorly crafted lies that tumbled out the kid's mouth. If 'John' had spent more than twenty dollars on that piece of crap ID, he had overpaid. It was destined to be confiscated at some point... Better it be by Benjamin, someone who really didn't give a shit, than an authority figure that would have given the boy serious grief for being in the possession of false identification. Benjamin briefly smirked as 'John' made a zipping motion over his lips. It was painfully obvious that the boy needed to be schooled in the fine art of deception... And he had serious doubts regarding the young witch’s ability to keep those lips sealed.

Seeing how thrilled the kid was about getting his piercing and tattoo, Benjamin found himself unable to shake that strange sense of familiarity he had initially gotten from 'John'. That smile… No, HER smile was simply unforgettable and realization hit Benjamin like a fuck ton of bricks! 'Mr. Smith' bore an uncanny resemblance to the lovely brunette he had coffee with the other day. If memory served him correctly, and it did, Andrea had mentioned having a younger brother. Of course, this meant the dark eyed beauty was probably a witch as well. Yeah, this situation he currently found himself in? It was more than likely going to come back and bite him hard in the ass... Already Benjamin was concocting replies to angry allegations he imagined being confronted with!!!

A single brow arched as 'John' spoke of his reasons for getting snowflakes permanently inked on his body; clearly he knew and/or believed that there was more to it than a simple love of winter. When the possibility of a snowman fetish was amusingly shot down, Benjamin softly chuckled as he recalled someone by the name of 'Micheal' being mentioned during his conversation with Andrea. He pushed his thoughts of the boy's sister aside for the time being; allowing himself to focus on the preliminary sketch that had been provided. As the other witch moved to examine the merchandise, Benjamin put his artistic talents to work for the youth. He took the idea he'd been presented and ran with it. Once a sketch was prepared, he held it up to 'John' for approval. "If this is alright, I can go ahead and make a stencil... And then we can get you prepped for both your ink and piercing." Benjamin could easily have free-handed it, but he wanted to make sure to line it up exactly where 'Mr. Smith' wanted it. Plus, it gave the kid a little extra time to back out if his nerves got the better of him. Blue eyes drifted to the metallic teal ball with a small bar 'John' had selected and he nodded his head in approval. "Nice choice..."

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bound_ezra
2014-05-20 04:31 pm UTC (link)

Well he had spent quite a bit on the damned thing really. It was essentially fifty dollars down the drain. If it allowed him to get the tattoo though, it was closer to fifty dollars well spent. It was probably better that the tattoo man had cut it before he got a wild itch and tried to buy beer. The thought of Andy quite possibly murdering him was enough of a deterrent that he'd likely never ever do that.

"Oh yeah! That's even better!" He exclaimed excitedly as he saw the sketch. It was exactly what he wanted. "That is perfect. Wait, prepped? What do you mean, prepped?" He asked curiously, and slightly nervous. The small wind of confidence that he had gained was steadily weakening. "Thanks, it's my favourite color. It matches my eyes." He said with another smile as he set the ball and bar onto the counter.

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bound_benjamin
2014-05-20 07:00 pm UTC (link)

Pleased by the young man's reaction to the image he'd skillfully rendered, Benjamin carefully tore the page from his sketch book. He shook his head lightly as anxiety seemed to taint the boy's excitement. Obviously the requisite paperwork was being intentionally forgotten, but there were still steps to be taken before 'John' would be faced with the tattoo machine. Having dealt with more than his fair share of nervous and frightened clients, Benjamin easily managed a reassuring tone as he explained exactly what 'prepped' entailed. "Honestly, there is nothing to be concerned about. I'm going to take the sketch and make a stencil... Which won’t take long at all. Then we'll head into my little 'office' over there…" He nodded in the direction of a private room off to the side which functioned as Benjamin’s personal work space. "Once you're comfortably situated in the chair, I'll clean my canvas with rubbing alcohol and remove any little hairs with a brand new disposable razor. After that, you'll get a chance to preview your tattoo because I will be positioning and transferring the stencil onto your skin… That's when the real fun will begin." Okay, so ~~maybe~~ that last sentence could have been phrased in a vastly more comforting way -- but Benjamin just couldn't resist indulging in a little amusement at the kid's expense. "We'll do your piercing after the tattoo." With that said, he went about the business of creating a stencil with the studio's thermal-fax machine. It was a simple process that took no more than a few minutes. Before moving to escort 'Mr. Smith' into the aforementioned 'office' space, Benjamin grabbed the ball and bar that had been set on the counter. "We're all set to begin… Are you ready???"

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bound_ezra
2014-05-21 12:13 am UTC (link)

He was immediately soothed by his tone of voice. He liked knowing what would happen before it happened. Perhaps this was his just desserts for tricking someone into underage tattoing and piercing him. He walked over to the small office as Ben talked to him, and succeeded in making him nervous again. His eyes were wide with fear, but he was determined.

"Don't you have any drugs or something so it won't hurt?" He asked as he waited by the door for Benjamin to come back with the ball and bar. He felt a vibration in his pocket and pulled his phone out to see who had texted him. It was his sister asking where he was and when he'd be home. He texted her back with a lie, saying that he was getting something from a friend.

He thought for a moment about if it was a good idea, after he shoved the phone into his pocket. Perhaps a henna tattoo would have been a little better, and maybe a magnetic ball. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." He replied as he waited to follow Ben into his office.

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bound_benjamin
2014-06-11 03:01 pm UTC (link)

The kid's concern about the tattoo hurting and the expressed desire for drugs… Well, it set Benjamin up perfectly to reply with, "Oh, yeah… I’m on them right now. I won’t feel a thing." He punctuated those words with an amused smirk. The kid didn't need to know that he wasn't completely joking; he’d had a Vicodin about an hour ago to help ease the ache of his knee. At least the persistent annoying throbbing had subsided. Plus, his limp was barely noticeable as he stepped out from behind the reception desk. Benjamin casually moved past the young man and into the side room. He gave further thought to what tolerance 'John' would have to the sting of the tattoo machine. There were some tattoo virgins, and veterans alike, that couldn't help but flinch against the feel of needle on flesh. 'Clients who can't sit still make for fucking awful canvases'. Although he typically enjoyed watching them squirm… Benjamin had a few topical anesthetics in stock that were sometimes effective in diminishing the pain. They came in handy when he was working on extremely sensitive areas. Sigil magic was always an option, but it was one that was typically reserved for very select individuals. 'Mr. Smith' would have to hope that the 5% Lidocaine in the 'Tattoo Soothe Numbing Gel' would suffice. "Before I can honestly answer your question I need to know... Are you currently taking any medications – prescribed or otherwise? Do you happen to have any allergies, 'John'?"

Turning to face 'John', he held up a little jar for the boy to see and patted the black leather chair that seemed to be waiting expectantly for ~~its next victim~~ someone to fill the void. "Have a seat, kid…. Allergies pending; I have a few topical gels that might help the procedure hurt less, but because of where you're getting the tattoo done. Well, there's a fair chance you'll still feel some of the machine’s sting." Though still listening to what the young man might have to say in response, Benjamin set to business. After slipping on a pair of black Nitrile gloves, he opened up a cabinet on the wall in order to gain further access to his supplies. All that he would need was set out on the surface of the rolling metal tray, situated not far from the leather chair. The piercing would wait till the ink was complete. This sort of preparation was clearly routine and he'd done it countless times before... Benjamin was quite obviously at home in his work space. 'Contributing to the delinquency of a minor… Not exactly on my to do list. But, what the fuck?' Benjamin could only hope that, if the truth came out, the boy's sister would see be amenable to going out with him.

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bound_ezra
2014-06-12 05:34 pm UTC (link)

EZRA ❆ WINTERS


His mouth dropped open. "Why do you need drugs?! Shouldn't you be some sort of sober? What if you make a mistake or something?!" That had gotten him. Throughout the whole ordeal he had been relatively ok, until that precise moment. He could feel the color as it threatened to drain out of his face. "I know you're joking. It's against the law." He said, half bluffing, and half trying to convince himself that he was in good hands. Although, he sort of had it coming. 'John Smith' seriously? "No, I'm not on any medications." He lied, but he had done his homework, antidepressants didn't cause bleeding or anything relevant to tattooing. Besides, he didn't want the world to know he was on medication. That was between him, Andy, Cassi, and the court order. "I'm not allergic to anything either." He added, truthfully. He would have punched a buffalo in the face for that pain relief gel though. "Do I need to pull my pants..." He asked as he stalled for a moment before Benjamin confirmed his suspicion, and threw him a towel. It was obviously a modesty towel. He turned his back, and pulled his pants down revealing a tight pair of blue briefs, and a lot of creamy white soft skin. It was obvious that he didn't go outside much. Ezra pulled the front of his underwear down as low as he could without taking anything out and turned around and sat back in the chair, awkwardly. He could have counted on one hand the people who had seen him in his state of undress. He lifted his shirt, and goosebumps speckled across his flesh. "Ok. I'm ready." He said as he gripped the arms on the chair tightly, clearly frightened out of his mind.

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bound_benjamin
2014-06-12 09:09 pm UTC (link)

Okay, so the young man wasn't on any medication… But maybe 'Mr. Smith' would have been better off if he was. A couple of Valium seemed appropriate... If 'John' had a genuine issue with what was meant as a playful jab, then the kid seriously needed to mellow the fuck out. Vaguely irritated, the dark witch let loose an inaudible sigh. Benjamin knew his tolerance better than anyone else and was more than capable of performing his job. "I was only teasing you, kid. You left the door wide open to what was meant to be joke. It was just idle commentary that I found impossible to resist." ...And if 'Mr. Smith' honestly wanted to bring legalities into the conversation, well, the tattooist could have reminded the young man that he technically shouldn't even be there. But as Benjamin filled tiny cups with ink, he tried to further assure the boy that he was in good hands. "I'm genuinely sorry if my failed attempt at comedy made you uneasy. That wasn't my intent - at all. You don't have anything to worry about. Despite contributing to the delinquency of a minor; I’m actually a very competent and experienced tattoo artist."

Benjamin answered 'John's' question by tossing a dark maroon towel his way. The towel was meant to cover up the boy's most intimate bits and preserve his modesty. The tattooist busied himself with final preparations; ice blue eyes diverted away from the young man while he tugged his pants down somewhat and settled into the black leather chair. The kid was frightened as hell and Benjamin was slightly concerned that 'John' would jump out of his skin the very moment that the tattoo machine was turned on. He was beginning to consider using a sigil to ease the young man's nerves, but decided to take a 'wait and see' approach before resorting to magic. "Alright then. I will apply the Tattoo Soothe. Followed by the stencil." A fresh sponge, covered in chill gel, slid over the segment of pale flesh where 'John's' tattoo would be applied. After giving the gel a moment to air dry, Benjamin positioned the snowflake stencil and then transferred the image directly where the boy wished his ink to permanently reside. Once that was complete, he handed 'John' a small mirror for approval. "Before I get to the ink, how does that work for you?" While waiting for a reply, Benjamin sat down on a rolling stool beside the leather tattoo chair.

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