2025-06-20 - Introductions: A client's bespoke order

What a miserable day to be offering some rain, a little light splashing but one of those June episodes that downpours and then stops an hour later with the sun coming up and baking everything instead. Leaving those who left their home wearing a coat to cook. To fry inside. Casey, on this day, is one of those people. Or rather will be a little later on today since he is arriving to the Quill and Ink carrying an umbrella to keep the drizzling rain off of his head.

Pushing on the front door, the tall grey-hair kissed man is turning to shake his umbrella outside before leaving it to prop down in one of those holders. A dark blue knee length waterproof jacket is being worn draping down his front while he is wearing a grey suit jacket. A dark blue tie, faint paisley pattern alongside, to match the jacket as Casey is arriving in. Listening to the room, quickly taking it in to see about a receptionist or someone to point him in the right direction.

The guy at the reception desk is dressed in the kinds of attire one might expect for a tattoo studio on the Boo'edwalk of Spellbound. He's tall and lanky, and his black and white tattoos disappear under costuming in the same shades. He's wearing a crisp white button-down, open at the neck, and his sleeves are rolled up to just below his elbows. His forearms are covered in black and white portraiture. His slacks are black with thin white pinstripes, held up with black suspenders. His hair even matches the motif, long and shaggy, dyed black except for the one stripe of platinum white that swoops down over his blue eyes.

He looks up at the suited man walking into the shop, and does a quick check of the appointment book. Nothing scheduled for the current time, must be a walk-in. "Welcome to Quill and Ink," calls out a rich baritone. "I'm afraid all our artist are currently with other guests, but I'm happy to help you find a bit of art or theme you might like, and get you scheduled for sometime convenient to your vacation plans. I'm Miles. How can I help you today?" In poor Miles' defense, Casey is not visibly wearing his name badge, so the poor helpful kid is just assuming him to be a very over-dressed tourist. Spellbound gets far more of those than some people ever might suspect.

Casey really does look like a man who has been dropped in the middle of the ocean without a life raft as he is suited. Booted and groomed immaculately. The growth of darker facial hair clearly maintained earlier in the day, not looking wiry on his face. His rich dark chocolate hued eyes gazing across to Miles, fingertips moving to his own jacket to push open on the buttons while speaking.

"It is the right place." There is a little disarming statement there to bring and focus Casey's mind at being in the tattoo parlour. "I am Casey Mateo, one of the concierge's at one of the hotels and have a guest who is..." Hand reaching into his upper pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. "Looking for a unique piece. They drew something if that is helpful? I must admit."

Laughing a fraction, one of those I don't belong here laughs.

"I do not know how this works. If someone shows off their work and it is done, or something else entirely."

Sitting comfortably behind the writing desk, one ink-black oxford propped upon a knee as he leans back in his chair, Miles reaches out and takes the piece of paper that is offered. He skims over the bit of art, and whatever his opinion on the drawing might be is unknown, professional enough to see what is desired without his own opinions visible enough to influence a client's choices. "Guest services makes sense." The more information Miles gets from Casey, the more sense it makes. He consults the large, heavy reservation book open on the desk in front of him.

As Miles is looking over available appointments, he reassures the concierge, "People bring in their own designs more than often enough." A lot of people want one of the artists to do the sketching up of a design, or the choose from the various park-themed flash. But so many tourists drop into Quill and Ink with pre-planned ideas or outright drawings that they want upon their skin as if instead of an artist, their tattooist is merely a xerox for ink into skin. But at the end of the day, the clients are the ones wearing their pieces for life, and the artists merely want to do their best at making sure each new owner of art walks away without regrets about their choices.

"It looks like," Miles murmurs after checking the book, "We're fully booked for pre-planned appointments over the weekend, but I've got spots on Monday and through the rest of the week, if your guest is at the park long enough for that to work?" And, if the guest is not here that long, "Our walk-ins for today have all been penciled in already, but I can add them to the cancellation list in case anyone changes their mind last minute. Or they can come by first thing when we open tomorrow to claim whatever walk-in slot they might prefer. We schedule those daily as first come first served."

Looking down at the drawing, it is a crudely drawn Chinese-style dragon with giant goat horns that are wrapping around it's body. The whole creature bent in a figure of 8 shape while around it are either clouds or rudimentary blotches of ink. To some it might look absolutely radical, truly a piece of art but in this case... the drawing is heavy handed and with several sharp dragging marks for the edges. It is a mess to say the least.

"Good, good. I think in this case the guest woke up in the morning and thought this looks really-really-really-cool sir.." Casey's voice is pitching a little higher in tone as he is repeating himself, imitating that faster speak that he had to ensure from the guest. A sardonic tint to his words, to his humour, while his hand is moving onto the paper itself. "Monday could work, or cancellation. Say..." Glancing past Miles now, towards the studio itself, Casey's rich dark-chocolate hued eyes are looking into the studio itself.

"Do you know who that might be with? Only because the guest is extra particular on how they want the horns captured plus will pay a good deposit if they can see the art beforehand."

Miles is a professional. He listens to Casey and he does not judge. He looks at that drawing, and... He. Does. Not. Judge. Well. Miles looks at that drawing and he does not judge out loud. He mostly even keeps it off and out of his expressions, too. Calm, serene, the zen of not his body, not his problem. He listens to Casey's story about how this concept came to be in existence at all. The shop has certainly seen stranger (and uglier) requests. They usually try to gently guide people into wiser decisions, but, at the end of the day... It's the client's body and the client's wishes.

But when Casey mentions the client wants to see the art first? Miles has some clarifying questions. "So this isn't a thing where they're bringing in their own flash and just need someone to ink it on?" It's a theme park. Most of the clientele come in one of two forms. There are those who are on vacation and want a cool souvenier that will last a life-time, and they pick a piece of flash from the ornate frames on the walls or one of the artists' work books... Or they've been emailing and texting with an artist ahead of time about a custom piece to be designed and ready before they arrive on vacation for their pre-booked in far advance inking session with a design that had already been handled.

Miles might look just a little worried now. Spellbound is known for its customer service and its efforts to do what they can to make the magic happen. Miles doesn't know if he can make this magic happen. If he were dealing with the client directly, he would never make this offer. But Casey works here. He's one of them, right? He can make this offer, and if the artist says no, it can all stay copacetic, right? Miles is really hoping that's right. "We're booked out on custom work for a while, and I'm not sure a walk-in spot is going to want to risk what they get in that regard." But... "We've got a new artist in the shop, though." He clarifies, "Not new to the art, she's been in the trade for a while now. But since she's new to us, she's less booked than some others, though. She's off for the weekend, and isn't scheduled back in again until Wednesday. You could give her a call and see if she's willing to work something out about it?"

Casey's head is nodding low to Miles as he is listening to the predicament going through the receptionists mind as he is sharing it on. The concierge's left hand is moving down onto his hips after reaching for the paper. Pulling the 'art' closer to him before slipping it back into his top pocket. "I know this is a difficult ask Miles, if I told you the customer is a generous tipper and likes diet coke. So a lot of diet coke on the day might get them to be very generous." Casey's voice lacing itself with upspeak as he is adding. "Would that help?"

There's an eyebrow from Casey heading up before he is quickly adding on the idea of getting something out of this. A lead and a start for the concierge to work with. An artist who is new to the shop so might be a little more pliable to trade with. "I'll take that. She is off for the weekend? I could call or text then if that is okay."

Miles isn't certain that diet coke is going to bribe many artists all that far, but. Maybe that's just him? He pulls open a slender drawer of the writing desk, just deep enough to hold pens and a bit of paper. But he pulls out a business card. It's matte black pressed linen paper, one side embossed with the name 'Maggie' in bright pink metallic ink. The other side lists a phone number for Quill & Ink, a cell phone number, an email, and a fairly decent number of socials.

As to if or when Casey might try texting or calling? All Miles can do is shrug. "She's off until Wednesday," he repeats. "But if you want to reach out..." He shrugs again. "We've chatted in passing a time or two, but like, I don't really know her, man. Maybe she's a work-a-holic and she'll be down for a chance to kill the time off. Maybe she's got her phone full off and won't look at it again for days. I couldn't guess. But. If you're really needing to make this happen..." He glances at the full appointment book. "If you can get her to tell you yes, she's probably your quickest way of doing this. If you can't convince her..." It's clear that Miles is absolutely counting on Casey to convince her, "I'll see if there's more I can do, but, unless we're talking about this client is generous enough to bribe a private after-hours booking?" Miles is pretty sure whoever Casey is trying to help might be SOL.

"Work-a-holic after my own heart. How new? Because if she is really new then that might be a bit easier to do the convincing." Exhaling a little bit, Casey's eyes are lighting up at the chance to twist an arm a little easier. Workplace guilt and wanting to fit in.

"But this is great. Maggie." Repeating the name on the business card as he is collecting it, Casey is bringing it to his pocket while pulling out his phone. Holding the two loosely in his hand before nodding in Miles' direction. "This works though, thanks Miles. Trust me, this will go down well with the client."

Casey is waiting a moment or two for parting comments from Miles before turning to leave the Quill and Ink. Outside it, reaching for his umbrella while tapping away Maggie's phone number with his phone. Bringing it up to his ear while waiting to hear a connecting sound on the other side.

"A few months," Miles tells Casey in regards to how new Maggie is to Spellbound and to the shop here. "But seriously, man. Good luck!" He's probably wishing luck about getting the ink setup in a manner that will make Casey's client happy, rather than about dealing with Maggie herself. But. He doesn't clarify, so... It could go either way.

Once he's put that number into his phone and hit send on the call, though? All he gets for a while is a series of ringtones. It's about a half moment away from rolling over to a voice-mail account. When it's answered, the voice at the other end is a smokey bit of contralto, thick with sleep, and she sounds a little confused. It's her work line, not her personal. Maggie is off for the next few days, Monday and Tuesday actually being intentional as she's worked enough overtime in the last few weeks that she has the comp time banked for it. So if she's getting a call on a Saturday from the shop, something probably is wrong, right? "This is Maggie?" It's phrased as a question, but it's not a question of who she is. It's a question of who is calling her - and more importantly - why?

Flicking up his umbrella, Casey is holding it over his head while pressing the button to ping it open. The rain had not died down while he was inside the tattoo parlour. He wasn't there long enough for this late-Spring (early-summer?!) shower catching him off guard. Exhaling deeply as he is hearing the phone ring-ring-ring.

"Maggie? Maggie from Quill and Ink, Right?" Casey is asking the question before leading on without giving her a chance to reply. "I work at the park here. Look I will cut to the chase. Have an offer for you that you are going to want to hear. I know it is your day off but... this is a great opportunity for you."

Really putting on the salesman pitch there, Casey is walking down the road slightly more while talking on the line.