Trixie blinked at him. He was seriously getting that as his first tattoo? It was half adorable and half dumb as shit, but most tattoos were. "I- well- I thought we could get- uh- I'll just get, like, I love Sally or something." She shrugged, shaking her head. She walked up to the front counter and leaned on it slightly, her tone changing completely when she spoke the girl. "Do you have two slots open right now?" She asked blandly, watching the woman with an equally disinterested look. The woman seemed displeased that she actually had to... do her job. "We have one slot open right now, but he can do two in succession." Trixie shrugged. "That's fine. Can we go on back?" The woman gave a bland nod and Trixie gestured for him to follow as she walked through a door behind the counter.

When you also thought she wasn't kidding-))

He looked mildly confused. "Oh wait you were kidding weren't you?" He grinned, covering his mouth slightly. "Too late now." He chuckled, half following her to the desk. He looked around again, just about completely distracted til she was done talking. Then he followed her. "If you don't want my name on a tattoo we would do something more chaotic and have a horse running on an anvil 'cause of how we both died." He tilted his head with an innocent smile.

PFFFT- hey, it's still an adorable idea))

Trixie gave him an amused smile. "A little." She shrugged, chuckling slightly. "Hey, no take-backsies. I like Trix is cute. You just need to pick one for me." She smiled, walking right through the door and letting him in after her. There was a heavily tattooed man to the right of the large room, sterilizing a tattoo gun. There were four leaned back chairs, dentist style. She glanced at Sal with raised eyebrows. "You're absolutely sure?" She asked carefully, glancing at the man.

He scrunched his nose at her, glancing around the room. He lifted his chin slightly, the chairs like that were slightly unnerving. He felt overdressed, even in jeans and a black flannel. "Unfortunately I'm sure, lets do the horse on anvil and if I find tattoos so boring I'll get I like trix and a bernard on my back. Fair?" He smiled, though definitely obviously nervous.

Trixie gave him a sweet smile. "Alright then, since youre so sure. Want me to hold your hand?" She teased, elbowing him gently in an attempt to lighten his mood. The man in front of them cleared his throat and she looked at him. He lead Sal to one of the chairs and went about getting things ready before he even asked for a design. Trixie plopped lightly in the chair beside the dentist style one, glancing around the tattoo shop curiously.

He shook his head. "I'm sure I'll live." ..ironic. He teased, slipping into a less sloppy American accent as the man approached. He sat down, quietly admiring the tattoos and the organization of the tattooed man. That calmed his nerves slightly. Though he was still laying there like he was in a coffin. His hands laced over his chest and his ankles crossed. Letting the silence eat away at his calmness.

"Oh, ha-ha. I see what you did there. Very funny." Trixie said sarcastically, smiling at him and toying with some of the curls in her hair. She watched a little longer and then spoke, a little confused. "Sally, you don't have to lay like a vampire. You can lay like a normal person." She offered teasingly, watching as the tattoo artist walked over to ask Sal for his design.

He smiled at her, cocky. He stared at the ceiling for a minute, just waiting and staying relatively calm. He rolled his head over to her. "I'm not? This is comfortable." He squirmed slightly, sitting up as the man approached, he hardly noticed he was playing the guessing game with how the tattoed man was going to sound.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Yes, you are, but whatever." She shrugged, smiling. She span herself in a circle on the chair, watching the man as he walked up. He sounded about as he looked, bearded, tattooed in most visible places, and like he belonged to a biker gang. M "Whatchu want?" He asked gruffly. Trixie simply looked at Sal.

He glared at her, turning a softer and more friendly appearance to the artist. "I was thinking of a horse running on an anvil, I could draw it for you." He said calmly, in an american accent, though certain vowels sounded a little off in 'horse' and 'anvil'. He as also gesturing to his bicep with an approximate size-ish.