As Damian exited the building he was greeted with a sudden gust of cold and wet winter wind that was rather bitter sweet. The pain of something other then his tattoos was always a bonus yet now he could help but to begin to shiver. How had he forgot that it was winter he stood still as the windy continue to whip around him hitting any visible bare skin he momentarily turned around and looked at the apartment building his eyes slowly glancing up to the fourth floor where his room was located. He began to contemplate if he wanted to go back inside to retrieve a hat and scarf but he reluctantly let out a sigh, his warm breath turned into fog in the cold. He opted out of going back inside he figured if he kept on walking maybe his body would naturally start to warm up and the parlor wasn’t all that far away.

The parlor could be located in physical alleyway but patrons had to make sure that before entering the alleyway that was used to actually enter the parlor that no muggles were around. To actually access the that alley, one would cast a spell that shifted them into a parallel alley that was located in what appeared to be a secondary dimension Damian was never actually sure and thought it best not to ask. All that he knew is this alleyway was actually dangerous for non-patrons of The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor, dangerous to those that paid ill will to the manor and muggles. The alley would actually trap those individuals and slowly but surely turn into a maze, of course the owner of the Parlor did a bi-weekly sweep through the alley and released any muggles trapped inside before making sure to wipe their memories first. Those that indeed have ill will were doomed to wander the maze to driven insane, once their sanity was gone they would be released knowing no one would ever take them seriously again. Damian thought this was rather inhumane of the owner to do but he didn’t question it as he feared being trapped himself, and would rather take a hard pass on that.

Thankfully the area in which he lived in wasn’t all that populated a lot of the surrounding buildings around his apartment building were abandoned. The streets were littered with building as old and in disarrayed as his home, and unlike his home were condemned. Parked by the curb of the sidewalks were abandoned cars, some were filled with trash some where empty and some had people living in them yet all of them had absolutely no tires on them. He walked down the empty sidewalk heading to a alleyway a couple of blocks away from his apartment just to be safe.

He found himself down a deserted alleyway the only residents of the alley were tipped over trash cans that were wearing a vest of rust, a flakey rust that was orange in red in color. Damian examined both exits of the alley remaining silent as to hear is there were any passerby’s that might witness him, there was an eerie silence that hung through the alley this silence let him know that the coast was clear. He pulled out his wand from is pocket, he pointed it at the stone side of the building that help fund the alleyway with a flick of his wrist gray smoke started to ooze out of the tip of the wand as he began to draw a circle on the wall. The smoke left a gray ring before it pulsed a black and blue, the ring began to expand around Damian and the alley.

The alley grew black as if someone snuffed out a candle extinguishing the light, the sun being the metaphorical candle. The darkness began to fade and he found himself in a very familiar place a place he recognized the narrow stone washed and weathered alleyway that lead to The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor. Currently the alley was empty this was part of the trap the door itself is always right beside them, the door would only appear under certain situations but Damian being a returning patron knew the simplest trick as to make the door reappear. He extended his hand out spreading his fingers out the palm of his hand facing outwards he continuing reaching out until something hard stopped him.

He knew this hard surface was the door to the parlor itself, his extended hand now turned into a fist he started to knock on the hard surface of the invisible door. Once he started to knock on the door the door suddenly came into view the blue door stood out almost blinding compared to the colorless backdrop of the stones around it. Reaching for the door knob he twisted it and began to open it slowly upon the other side of the door was the parlor he had called his secondary home. Ironically though the parlor was called The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor the insides were no way following the same color scheme as its name sake. The insides fashioned warm colors like brown, red, and gold, giving it almost a vintage-steampunk interior design to it. The walls lined with designs of previously created tattoo designs, some were plain designs and some of them were charms manifested in the forms of tattoos. Those tattoos had descriptions written under them telling the consumers what properties they gave.

As he entered a thin skeletal man sitting behind a dark oak J-shaped counter holding a magazine stared towards him. This man was the receptionist of the Parlor his purpose Damian was never sure of it wasn’t exactly like people could come in and make an appointment. If they did he wouldn’t be the face you would want to see, he was very shaggy and unkept looking. Damian wasn’t a vain person but sometimes looking at the receptionist he would wish he would take at least some time to cleanup a tiny bit. Vincent was his name and he fashioned a fauxhawk, the sides of his head were buzzed short but it wasn’t even in the least bit and on top of his head the ‘hawk’ part was black and oiling looking as it laid down past on his eyes. Even Vincent’s face looked oily but his face was also covered in many piercing two were fashioned on his left eyebrow and one on his right eyebrow and one was secured on his lip. After looking up to see Damian his eyes drifted back down to his magazine as he bit his lower lip slightly.

“And here I thought someone interesting found the parlor…” Vincent said under his breathe as he flipped through his magazine paying no mind to Damian. Damian heard him completely as he walked to the desk, “And here I thought the owner would hire someone good looking to greet the customers, not someone that would make them run back into the alley” he rebutted back seeing if they would force a response back from Vincent. Vincent looked at him his brows clenched together his face displeased “Who asked for your opinion you useless stray.” Vincent and himself have always acted this way since the day they met it was normal so the others within the parlor never tired to intervene. But from some outsiders prospective they seemed like enemies but they were actually pretty chill in all honesty “so is there any new job postings?” he asked Vincent. “I think a few came in today but I can’t be positive” he said as he went back to his magazine.