i've been a mess since you stayed * evan

[ATTICUS DERAUX!]

i like a kick in the face, the things you do to me

The feeling of 'home' washed over him as he opened the door to the tattoo parlor that he was going to get touched up at. He always loved places like these, with the heavy metal playing through the speakers and the sound of a buzzing needle in the back room, he loved it. Seeing as his body was eighty five percent covered in tattoos, he had spent a lot of time in the tattoo parlor. Back home there was only one person who had worked on all of his zombie tattoos, the ones that covered all of his torso, but he knew it was hard for a good artist to fuck up a touch up. He knew that he could trust whoever went in with the machine, to an extent at least; if the parlor itself looked gross and run down, Atticus would turn around and walk right back out. However, the establishment he was in now was clean and well-kept, a good thing to see in a parlor. He knew a lot about the health and safety when it came to tattoos, if only because he had become good friends with his tattoo artist, who would bitch to him about all of the other stupid tattoo artists around town. Some of them, by the way that he explained them, it was miracle they all weren't shut down and demolished or that someone hadn't come back with a lawsuit. It was truly disgusting.

Now that he was in the parlor, he looked around, seeing all of the designs and odds and ends that they had used to decorate the walls and shelves. It was intriguing to Atticus and he could look at all of it for hours if he had the time; unfortunately, with being a sound tech for a big band on an even bigger tour, Atticus knew that he would have to get back sooner rather than later. As he looked around, he heard footsteps and realized that someone was probably coming up to the front. Turning his head, he gave a smile, seeing the shocked look on the girl's face before she seemed to hide it away. When she asked what he was in for, he walked up to the counter and explained that he was in for a simple touch up and that he knew that he was early. He could see the girl eyeing him up and down, trying to comprehend just what Atticus had done to his body. That was when she asked just exactly what he needed touched up he chuckled and pointed to the spider web in his ear as well as the lines on his lips. The ones on his lips faded easily and he had already had two touch ups on them since he tattooed his face, but he didn't mind touching them up. He liked them and would keep them no matter how often they faded.

It was obvious that the girl was absolutely astonished by the amount of tattoos that covered Atticus' face and body, something that Atticus was totally used to at this point in his life. The shocked looks only increased when he was with Ophelia, knowing that people were judging him. It never phased him in the slightest, if only because when he was with her, it was just her and him - no one else. As the girl walked into the back, looking for the artist that was supposed to do his touch up, Atticus turned around and leaned on the counter. Once again he found himself looking around the shop, taking in the pictures, the statues and the other things that they had plastered to the wall. Before he could even realize it, he was looking at a beautiful, young woman that could only be Evan Monroe. A wild grin appeared on the twenty four year old's face as he looked at her, "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in..." he teased before he continued, "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be off being beautiful somewhere else?"

SIX SEVEN FIVE, I'M SORRY THIS IS SO HORRIBLE, NATE!!

[EVANGELINE MONROE!]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] you're killing me now and i won't be denied by you Staring at her self in the mirror, Evan critiqued her own appearance down to the finest detail. Such scrutiny was a part of her daily routine, whether she was leaving the bus to grab some groceries and then return, or going out to a bar. She never left to do even the smallest of things without making sure she looked absolutely perfect. Today, she had picked out a cute black top that had a deep scoop neck – purposely showing off as much of her tattoo chest piece as she could. She added black short shorts and a pair of heels to complete the look. Her make-up was relatively simple, having focused most of her attention on her eyes in hopes of making them one of the first things people saw when they looked at her. Last but not least, her dark brown and red hair was pushed over one side, her natural waves accented with the help of a curling iron. She was pleased, at least, this time. Evangeline grabbed a pair of sunglasses and her red clutch – that was already stocked with the necessities – on the way off the bus. She was on her way to a specific tattoo parlor to visit with one of the artists there, a friend of hers. Although Evan was plenty nervous about seeing someone from her slutty cokewhore past, she knew that he was still one of the best artists she knew. Of all the people she knew and connections she had, he was the only one she trusted – aside from herself – to contribute to the artwork she had inked on her body. Unfortunately for her, this guy was particularly talented in the style of art that she wanted her next tattoo to be in. She may be juvenile in thinking that she had moved past that stage of her life completely, but she still didn’t want to revisit the place in her life that proved to be the catalyst for her downfall. The girl allowed herself the trip to the tattoo place to be just a little bit vulnerable, mulling it over in her mind and giving herself a few pep talks along the way. By the time she had arrived at the parlor, Evan had talked herself into a confidence coma and fooled herself into thinking she was ready for this. Her head held high, her hips swaying with a little extra emphasis while she walked, the ex-model walked into the building as if she owned the place. She wasn’t even sure that this guy was even going to scratch at the surface, but just in case, he wanted him to know that she wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. To her surprise, the first living soul she laid eyes on was far from a face from her past. All it took was one look at the inked tendons and bones, the teeth and dark shadows around his eyes and Evan found that she was breathing a small sigh of relief. Knowing that Atticus was there gave her a full dose of genuine confidence, not the manufactured stuff that she’d forced upon her self. “I could ask you the same thing.” She commented casually, though she quite honestly meant every word. Handsome too, but Atticus was definitely a beautiful creature. She was convinced that she hadn’t seen even half of his tattoos and even that in itself captivated her. Lifting a hand, she slowly grazed her nails over her chest, behaving as if the gesture was merely to point out the tattoos that existed there. While she did that, she spoke, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I practically grew up in a tattoo parlor.” She smiled softly, before walking towards him, her hips still swaying just the right amount. Once she got close, she brushed right past him and perched herself on top of the front desk for the time being, crossing one leg over the other. “Where’s little Miss Ophelia, by the way? I have something for her.” words: 671 - tags: atticus - outfit: click (with a few described alterations)

[ATTICUS DERAUX!]

i like a kick in the face, the things you do to me

Over the years, Atticus had grown more and more accustomed to the looks that people would shoot at him while he walked along the streets. He knew that society as a whole wasn't exactly ready for his outer appearance to be accepted but that never really mattered to him. Ever since he was younger, he showed that he was much different than a lot of the kids in his class. Instead of sports or getting to know people, he preferred to hang out by himself and doodle and sketch. Sure, some other kids did just that, but not many drew things like Atticus did. At a young age he started to draw very dark and twisted things, usually most of them thought up by the horror movies that he would watch as a kid- his favourite being zombie movies. His mom was also a huge horror movie buff but never really let Atticus watch them, which was why he would sneak them into his room and watch them when he knew his mom was asleep. As he grew older, his mom started to realize what he was doing, but never really cared because he was now old enough to actually watch such sick and twisted things.

In his later years of highschool, his friends started to realize just how much Atty really enjoyed the idea of a zombie apocalypse, having bought both the zombie survival guide as well as world war z. That was when his friend's gave him the name 'Zombie Boy'; well, at that point it was all uphill form there. Atticus had already got a few tattoos from grade eleven, onward, but when he got out of highschool, he started on his journey to covering almost seventy five percent of his body with ink, including his face and head. Honestly, when he first started on his face, his mother damn near kicked him out of the house, seeing as she didn't approve of what he was doing to his body. She would always ask the same question every parent asks their children when they get a tattoo, 'What are you gunna do when you're eighty and your tattoos don't even look like tattoos anymore?'. Atticus' reply? I'll be eighty, why the fuck would I care?' It was true wasn't it? Nothing really mattered all that much when you're old. You've lived you life and you're either happy or upset about it. Honestly, Atticus would love to be eighty, look down at his tattoos and remember what kind of life he'd had.

As he watched Evangeline walk into the tattoo parlor, he could barely keep his eyes from straying. There was no denying that Atty was physically attracted to the woman in front of him, but he knew that it went further than that, as scary as that sounded to him. A smirked played upon his face before he nodded, "Yes, yes. Sorry. I shouldn't have asked such a stupid question." he joked before he took a step closer to her, "I should have asked, what specifically are you looking for by coming here? Touch up or a new piece?" he asked before she asked where Ophelia was. That slightly dampened his spirits. He liked that Evan enjoyed his daughter's company, but he wanted her to enjoy just his as well. Never did he intend on using Ophelia as a chick magnet, it just sort of happened, but he never took advantage of it, "She's with her mom for the month." he explained and nodded softly, "You could give it to me and I can make sure she gets it. Or would you rather give it to her yourself?"

SIX ONE THREE, I'M SORRY THIS IS SO HORRIBLE, NATE!!