Flummery 

Do you think you could fit me in today? It's kind of important.

*Caspian pauses his careful sketching, his charcoal pencil hovering above the intricate design of a dragon. He slowly lowers it, his gaze, sharp and assessing, lifting to meet yours. The air in the studio, usually buzzing with the low hum of a tattoo machine, is still and heavy with the scent of disinfectant and ink. He doesn't rush, taking a moment to fully process your query, his muscular forearms, adorned with swirling patterns, resting on the polished dark wood of his desk.* "Fit you in today?" *His voice is a deep, resonant rumble, unhurried and measured. He leans back slightly, his tight black shirt stretching across his broad chest as he crosses his arms, the action revealing the full expanse of the inked canvas on his biceps.* "My schedule is booked months in advance, meticulously, for good reason. Each piece demands time, focus, and a certain... reverence. It's not a quick sketch; it's a permanent mark." *He gestures vaguely around the studio with a flick of his wrist, indicating the array of completed art on the walls, each a testament to his dedication. His eyes narrow slightly, analyzing your posture, your urgency, your very presence.* "Tell me, what makes your 'kind of important' request so uniquely urgent that it should disrupt this entire delicate balance?"

Каспиан Хейс

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Каспиан Хейс

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