The sun was setting beyond the horizon. The cool night air was starting to blow, and Lucien was walking to his evening job. He had a backpack slung over his shoulders.
Lucien is a 20 year old, 175cm man with dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and medium brown skin. Tonight He wore a black hoodie with the words 'I don't owe you shit' in bold red letters, black jogging pants, and red and black sneakers. He was an art student at the nearby university, Sterling College of Fine Arts. He had learned quite a bit in his two years so far. Things he couldn't have figured out on his own.
Lucien went inside of the basement of the run-down building, which was no longer in use— well, not in the way it should be. He entered the large basement that had rows of comfortable tattoo tables, tattoo machines, sanitary items, and everything you need for a regular tattoo shop.
"Ah, Guten Abend, Lucky, you made it." A man that looked to be in his late 50s greeted Lucien. The man had a white beard, pale skin, wore a grey fedora, a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slacks, and black dress shoes. "You're earlier than I expected, but that's fine. You have a few clients tonight."
Lucien had picked up a bit of German since working with his mentor. "Good evening, Mr. Wolfgang."
Wolfgang, Lucien's mentor, smiled with his old crooked teeth. A few teeth were missing, as well, but it was impolite to ask. Lucien believed it was from a few— or many— fights when Wolfgang was younger and in his prime. It was hard for Lucien to picture Wolfgang out there fighting as a youngster. He couldn't even picture Wolfgang as young.
Lucien set down his backpack and rolled up his sleeves. "Who's my first client, Mr. Wolfgang?"
Always such an eager kid. Wolfgang smiled at the thought.
"The first client is Siren. She is the second in command of DSS. So, please do your absolute best, or my head will be taken." Wolfgang chuckled, but it was dry and a bit humorless.
Okay, let's not get my mentor killed. Lucien nodded at his mentor, ready to get to work.
Lucien got his station ready and prepared the stencil since Siren's tattoo idea was already sent to Wolfgang. Of course, Wolfgang couldn't figure out how to use his phone to pull up the reference, so Lucien had to navigate that part.
Not long later, a female client, which Lucien assumed was Siren, walked in. She had dark brown skin, black eyes, and black hair that was in a natural afro. Then she wore a purple crop top that hugged her chest perfectly, blue jean shorts that clung to her curves, and black converse. Lucien was nearly drooling over the woman.
Wolfgang shot Lucien a warning look, so he quickly wiped his slober away and smiled politely. He was nicked named 'Lucky' for a reason. Otherwise, he probably would've gotten punched by Siren if he was caught oogling.
"Hello, Ms. Siren. Willkommen im Keller." Lucien tried to throw in some German. "I am Lucien, but many call me Lucky, whichever you prefer."
Siren stared at Lucien, silent for a moment. She finally spoke up after she analyzed Lucien.
"Wassup, Lucky." Her informal greeting and curt nod put Lucien at ease. Siren was fine with him— for now, at least.
"We can get started whenever you wish. The stencil is ready." Lucien smiled sweetly. He admired her other tattoos, which were done by Wolfgang. "I hope my skills are up to your standards."
"Me too, kid." Siren grunted. She got comfortable on the table, and Lucien began to prepare everything he needed for the tattoo.
—
It was done. The shading, perfect, the tattoo, perfect fit on the inside of her forearm. It was beautiful work done by Lucien. His best yet, actually. Siren admired the tattoo on her arm. It was a white-wooled lamb under a guillotine with the words 'silence the lamb' underneath.
"Kid, your skills are impeccable. I'm coming to you more often." Siren declared. "I wonder if König's tattoo is done yet."
Lucien was so focused on Siren's tattoo that he didn't notice someone else had come in. Lucien looked to the private room of Wolfgang. The door was closed, so this König guy must be in there.
A few moments later, Wolfgang exited the room with the man named König. He was 191 cm tall, with short black hair, ivory skin, and gray eyes. He wore an impeccable black suit taliored to his build.
"Siren." König greeted. "How did it come out? Did Wolfgang's protégé deliver?"
Siren eagerly showed off her newest tattoo. König silently admired it with a neutral face.
"It's acceptable." König nodded and then faced Lucien. "Your name?"
"Ich bin Lucien." Lucien introduced himself in German as best as he could. "I also go by Lucky."
König stared at Lucien for a moment and then looked at Wolfgang. "Der Junge kann Deutsch sprechen?"
"Ein wenig." Lucien smiled softly. His limited knowledge of German made it hard to keep up in fast pace conversation, but he knew a little.
"Ah," König nodded. "I see."
It went silent between the four. It was awkward. König looked undisturbed by it, while Lucien shifted awkwardly in his swivel chair.
"Mr. Wolfgang. Who's my next client?" Lucien cut through the tension, wanting to move on with his life.
"The next is a member named—" Wolfgang was cut off by König.
"Me." König stated. "I want you to freely tattoo something on me. Whatever you desire."
Lucien's face slowly turned into a grin. "Whatever I want?"
König would soon come to regret those words— well, not regret, but it starts a long obsession with the college boy. A obsession that rivals that wrath of God.
König nodded. "Whatever you wish. My body is your canvas."