Danny had been in Summerview for almost two weeks now and he was getting comfortable with the place, with the pace of everything. He hadn't quite made it to all the businesses, but he was working his way slowly. He could pat himself on the back for a job well done and treat himself to a little tattoo.
Tattooing his human form amused him. It wasn't like he chose to look like this as a human. If he could choose, he would've chosen a human form that was taller, more muscular, could grow facial hair decently and not scattered. Someone with everything he wasn't, basically. No matter what he thought his human form lacked, he was stuck with it. So he'd decided decades ago to decorate it with tattoos. He wasn't covered or anything. Didn't even have a full sleeve. Just an occasional one here or there depending on his whimsy at the time. Most of them were Latino themed, calling back to his roots in Mexico. Working at Boudin around the skulls that stood as decoration, he'd felt inspired to go get a Mexican skull tattoo on his shoulder blade. Someone to watch his back for him, sorta.
The only tattooing parlor in town was Needles for Days. He didn't bother checking for their reviews, not really concerned. The tattoo would slough off as his human skin naturally shed and regrew over the decades. Besides, he'd read somewhere - maybe it was Jeff Dahmer who said it - that tattooed skin tasted bad. If Jayati was going to eat him, he wasn't exactly going to season the meat for her. He'd be the caterpillar that poisoned the bird who ate him.
Since he was a walk-in with no appointment, he got whichever tattoo artist was available. The front desk person went to get the artist while he waited, hands in his pockets, and stared at the wall of tattoo examples.