💙 (any of my muses :) You can pick)

1000liveslived:

syx-blue:

1000liveslived:

syx-blue:

With his holowatch firmly in place and activated, Syx strode into the small tattoo parlor wearing his most often used dark skinned face. His afro filling a portion of the space his blue head did in order to help the disguise generator. He found that the less the watch had to drastically fabricate the more realistic the disguise and the longer the charge lasted. Generating flowing hair and clothing he wasn’t actually wearing stressed the-the algorithms in the watch and increased the likelihood he’d end up looking like a CGI character come to life. 

Smoothing out his leather jacket, Syx grinned at his uncle and leaned against the counter. Chatting about business and news since he’d been in prison. Passing on messages from those who were still inside. 

Noticing Paige coming in he gave her a little wave, heading over toward her and plopping down in her tattoo chair as if he hadn’t turned down every offer she’d ever made to give him one. He flashed her a wide charming smile, green eyes shining. 

“Draw up anything new while I was gone?” he always adored seeing her sketches for her designs. 

His sass had her brown eyes narrowing fractionally, her lips pressing together. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she was silent before she shifted. Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the counter and began tapping her finger on her arm, simply waiting for an explanation.. mostly because she had no fucking idea what to say 

“Fuck it…” hefting a sigh Syx eased himself up and slumped into the chair again. Melting into it, bone weary with exhaustion, he wondered in an almost pleading tone, “If you are just going to stand there… could you at least get me a glass of water? Please?”

Even if Syx asked nicely, Paige didn’t move, didn’t take her eyes off him. Now that she could properly think, she was realizing several things all at once.. and none of them were good.

“..So what, you think you can just lie to me for all this time, and then come in here like we’re pals? Like you want to see more than just my art?” She threw his words at him, her finger stilling on her arm to grip tightly at her bicep. 

Rubbing his forehead, Syx growled, “Do I look like I showed up for friendly chat?” setting his jaw he raised his chin in defiance, “No I don’t expect you to ever speak civilly to me again, but that doesn’t change the facts. Who do you think protects this shop? Keeps it from getting robbed in this god awful neighborhood? Who’s Uncle you work for?”

He knew this would come. Always knew. He only cursed himself that she would likely quite and leave his uncle without his best artist. Looking away from her accusing eyes he told her, “You… can just leave if you want. I’ll explain what happened to Uncle Mickey. You won’t lose your job… he’ll write you a reference if you prefer…“ or he’d forge it is Uncle refused.