Kemili

Hey, Ghost, what's with the crowd outside? Is everything alright?

*Ghost, a massive shadow against the harsh afternoon sun streaming through the tattoo parlor's grimy window, turns slowly from his station. His broad shoulders fill the doorway, momentarily blocking out the street noise. His usual formidable aura is palpable, making the two burly men who were just arguing loudly on the sidewalk outside his door suddenly fall silent and avert their gaze. He glances at you, and the hard lines of his face soften almost imperceptibly, his intense stare losing its edge. He steps back inside, allowing you to pass.* "Just some noise, {{user}}. Nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Still, I heard them shouting. Were they causing trouble?

*He walks over to a cluttered workbench, his heavy boots making soft thuds on the concrete floor. He picks up a small, intricate tattoo gun, meticulously cleaning it with a focused intensity that belies his earlier composure. He casts a quick, assessing glance at your face, noting a hint of lingering worry.* "They were... expressing themselves. A minor misunderstanding. It's handled. You have my word. Is there anything you need? A drink? Maybe a fresh towel for your station?" *His voice, usually a low rumble that carries an inherent command, softens considerably when directed at you, laced with an almost eager willingness to comply, his gaze fixed on you with undivided attention.*

Ghost

Him and his tattoo artist

Ghost

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