New Friends Who: Ryan and Rachelle Where: Tattoo You - Gotham When: Tuesday, Jan. 28th Rating: M - language, sex talk
Ryan had been operating a small tattoo parlor in Gotham for the better part of two months now. There was something about Gotham that just spoke to her. There was a frenetic energy about the place. Anyway. She was happily working on a few different designs at the front desk while she waited for her next client. Work had been steady lately. She knew that she'd have to advertise for partners, possibly an apprentice and definitely a receptionist in the near future, but let her have today first and worry about tomorrow tomorrow, okay?
"ALLLLLLLRIGHT, BITCH! YOUR 3 O'CLOCK APPOINTMENT IS IN THE MUTHAFUCKIN' HOUSE!"
Oh, good. Rachelle Martin-Bale was indeed in the house, and she appeared to be at her smug, obnoxious best (or worst, your choice). Dressed in baggy jeans that hung low on her hips, with a snug Black Sabbath tee, she walked in, snapping her gum loudly as she looked around.
What Rachelle would have noticed when she looked around was a small contained waiting area with a couple of seats, art on the wall and flash books for people to peruse. Ryan hadn't taken the time to paint the walls just yet, so they were regretfully plain. Where Ryan was seated was more of a self-contained booth separate from the waiting area, with a computer and desk set up. She'd just finished working on a design that she'd worked up for Rachelle, but had a few back up's just in case that one didn't fly. "I can see that," she replied with a grin. Oh, this woman was a riot. She stood up and leaned over to give Rachelle's hand a shake. "I'm Ryan."
Chelle walked over, shaking Ryan's hand with a grin. "Hey. I'm Rachelle." She said, still kind of getting used to the fact that she was actually becoming pretty famous here. "Nice to come into one of these places sober for once." She deadpanned, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Last time I walked out with the ol' nips pierced and I don't even remember a second of it."
Ryan couldn't help it. She glanced down to see if those piercings were still there, then realized what she was doing and squeezed her eyes shut. "You know, I really should have just asked," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. There were a lot of habits that she was going to have to break if she was going to be in a relationship now, huh? "Sit, sit." She pointed to a bar stool opposite her. "I've got a few designs worked out for you."
"What, these?" Rachelle asked, not giving a fuck about lifting her shirt and bra to show off the goods. "Glad I got it done, though. The Wives love 'em. It's so cute how Morgan loves playing with 'em with her tong-..." She paused, half-closing one eye. "Too much?"
Ryan's eyebrows shot up and she couldn't help it but laugh. "I guess that depends who you're talkin' to," she pointed out. Obviously it wasn't an issue for HER, but some people might make some comments. "Never thought about nipple piercings myself," she realized.
"Ain't gonna lie: they hurt like a motherfucker while they're healing. But afterward?" Oh no... the grin on her face? Meant something entirely inappropriate was coming. "Hell, now they feel so awesome I find MYSELF playing with 'em sometimes."
Ryan couldn't help it then. She burst out laughing. "Jesus. I don't blame you! Now put those things away before someone comes in and thinks they're a form of payment." Ryan snorted, shaking her head as she invited Rachelle to the private area.
Pulling her shirt back down (the woman was either shameless, batshit crazy, or some wonderful combination), Rachelle sat down and started to unbutton her shorts, pulling them down just over her hips and rolling to her side. "You finished the design we talked about, I'm guessing? Cos... this is where I want it. Just don't go getting all molest-y. Or go ahead. I don't really care."
"Alas, poor Yorick. As tempting as that sounds I just don't fly that way." Ryan showed Rachelle the design. "You wanna go bigger or smaller?" She asked, positioning it over the spot where Rachelle wanted it.
"That's... actually pretty damn good. Maybe just a liiiiiiiitle bit smaller, but otherwise it's the tits" Chelle said happily, excited as she hadn't gotten a tattoo in years.
Ryan fussed about for a minute, getting Rachelle all situated before getting to work. "So how many bad boys of these do you have?" She asked. She was the type to make conversation while she worked.
"Just a few." Rachelle said, preparing herself for the initial pain. "An Imperial emblem on my other hip, a Red Sox emblem on my left ankle, and my band's logo on the underside of my right wrist."
"Just a few? I'm surprised." Ryan had gathered from Rachelle's general personality that was the the type to have a lot of tattoos, apparently. After cleaning and shaving the area, Ryan finally put needle to skin. "I should probably slow down on all the ones I've got. Can you believe my girlfriend doesn't have a single one? Not one."
"I can't see that lasting long..." Rachelle snorted, before her eyes went wide. "The not-having-tats thing, I mean. Not the relationship. Jesus I shouldn't talk sometime." She let out a soft whimper (one that, hilariously, Morgan and Neely would be familiar with for far different reasons) as she felt the needle begin it's work. "I'm so fucked in the head..." Chelle muttered, more to herself. "That hurts like a motherfucker and it's totally turning me on."
"Nah, dude. You get off on pain, I get that. I don't know that I'd have so many if I didn't enjoy it." Which was probably TMI for most people, but since Rachelle was being honest she figured she could do the same. "Plus, I happen to be very good at my job."
"So,tell me about this girl you're so sweet on." Rachelle groaned, fingers tightening around the arm of the chair. "You're smilin' brighter than the goddamn sun, so you gotta be dying to talk about it."
"Am I that obvious?" Ryan asked with a husky chuckle. She continued on the tatt for another few seconds, tongue poking out in concentration. "Regina. You'd probably get on well with her, actually. Although I don't think she'd flash her tits at a stranger." She snorted. "But she's got this dry wit and she's so much smarter than me. She's seen some shit, but she's strong." She paused briefly, re-inking the needle. "We were friends for years, you know? Either I was just blind or too stupid to see... Anyway. Long story short. We're dating now. And I'm pretty sure I'm obsessed, which between us? I think kinda freaks her out. I don't think she's ever really seen me in love before. I mean, fucked around, sure, and there was this one girl before her... but this is serious next level obsession."
"Just hang in there." Rachelle said, trying not to laugh at her description of obsessed. "Trust me. That's a cute kinda obsessed. I've been down the scary side of that road, and the road YOU'RE on? As long as you don't take it too far, you'll be fine."
Ryan nodded. "Trust me, it's not Joe Goldberg levels or anything. I know my limits. I'm just still at that 'crave her company all the time' stage, I think." She started tattooing another section. "Jesus, dude. Your skin is amazing. It's criminal that you don't have more tattoos."
"Well, apparently spending two years as a self-harming alcoholic is good for the skin. Who knew?" Rachelle asked in that sarcastic drawl of hers, smirking. "Thanks, though. Sorry. I'm shit at accepting compliments, even from my girls. Keep meaning to work on that, actually."
"You really should. I mean, obviously I don't mean it in a 'I wanna bone you' kinda way. I just think that you have amazing skin and needed to know that." Ryan grinned broadly.
"In spite of how I tend to act usually... I have some major self-esteem issues. Tell no one." Rachelle chuckled, letting out another groan/moan at the pain. "Goddamn. My head is spinning right now. I love it."
Ryan's eyes flicked up to look at Rachelle's face. Ah. She meant that in the happy way, not the 'I might pass out' way. Good to know. "You want me to call someone to pick you up when we're done here, or you've got that covered already?"
"Yeah, I just gotta call my personal chauffeur." Rachelle said, before snickering. "Also known as 'calling Morgan'. She's totally my bitch and she loves it." Some things never seem to change, hm?
Ryan snorted. "Not that I'd ever tell her, but I get the feeling I'm gonna be the bitch in the relationship. Not even remotely intentionally. I'll just be like 'You want cake? A footrub? A bubblebath? I can make it happen.'" Yep. She had it bad, folks.
"You should get some tips from Morgan." Rachelle said, helpfully. "Like... 'How To Be A Better Bitch' or something." She scrunched up her face then. "Nah, scratch that. That doesn't sound right."
"Yeah. I don't think she'd appreciate you pimping her out for bitch work." Ryan chuckled. "We should hang some time."
"Fuck yeah. Come by the bar sometime. I'm there most evenings, just because I love chaos." Good lord, has anyone ever been as unnervingly honest as Rachelle? She tensed as one spot surprised her with a slightly sharper pain, but kept herself from moving.
"Breathe," Ryan reminded her. Still, they were almost done. The design Rachelle had asked for was fairly simple and smaller than most stuff that Ryan had done in the past. "And yeah, I bet you do," Ryan chuckled, getting back to the conversation. "You'd struggle to keep up with me though, babe."
"I stood my ground for a while drinking with Jessica Jones and goddamn THOR. Try me." Chelle snorted, stifling a yawn. Damn she was tired today... fuck it though, she'd sleep when she was dead, right? "So tell me more about yourself. Right now I just know you're hot, a helluva artist, and you're obsessed with some chick."
"That's... about the extent of it." Awr. She was kind of cute when she was sleepy. "Actually." Back home she would have been more cautious with this, but: "If I said 'The Portman Institute', would that ring any bells?"
"Shit yeah it does. Talia's my homegirl." Rachelle chuckled, the words 'small world' coming to mind. "I love that girl and how much she helps the supernatural community."
Ah good. This was the same Rachelle Martin-Bale from back home, not some cheap alternate universe knock-off. "Me too. I lived there for a while. First LA then NY then back to LA." She'd moved back to LA primarily because Regina needed her, truth be told, but she also had a greater handle on her abilities by that point too. "That woman is a godsend."
"Such a hot little piece, too. Not even gonna lie: if I was single? I'd wear that ass out like old pair of sneakers." Oh god. Never change, Rachelle. Never.
"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. I was gonna say that I could read your thoughts, but there's really no need to when you say whatever's on your mind anyway!" Ryan cracked up laughing, shaking her head. "Anyway!" She slapped her own thigh. "We're all done here!"
"Oh, good..." Rachelle laughed, taking a deep breath hearing that. "If I got any MORE turned on, I mighta asked you to choke me during it." OH MY GOD RACHELLE.
Ryan burst into a gigglefit. "Maybe next time," she joked. Oh, she LIKED this one. She was definitely going to have to go to Rachelle's bar sometime to hang out.