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"Comfortable? This is going to take a while and once I get started…" He said but even then he leaned in with an almost clinical passiveness to trace light fingers with pressure over her skin…poking, shifting where she centered on the roll of towel and then finally nodded with a small frown.

"Not hurting your back is it?" he added. "I think this will work fine." he waved a half distracted finger at her. "If its not going to break you I mean." He fished out a disposable razor, and a spray bottle.

"Witch hazel, astringent, and helps keep inflammation down…and I gotta shave the area"

She chose well, once he got started, the sound of the tattoo gun, or even when he used the chisel it was a music and a conversation all its own, like being part of a symphony or a story where the players were ink, skin, machine and blood.
When he’d gotten his first tattoo-gun tattoo he’d described it as feeling a bit like having a cat claw drifting just under the surface of his skin. Admittedly the feeling had happened over and over again but it had only really stung when they had gone close over his shoulder, but tattoos were different for everyone in how much they hurt, though at least ‘hot zones’ for pain were pretty universal.

Perhaps the one interesting thing besides watching the lines appear on her skin, the careful removal of blood, the tilt of his head as he craned his neck back and forth searching for something that only he could see. He hummed, or perhaps softly chanted might be more accurate as he worked.

It took several hours to finish the work, simple though it was, he meticulously moved over each line, though with her wandering mind and relaxation with music the time probably floated by with only the vague ignorable needle sting. He finally leaned back In his own chair, dabbed carefully at it again a few more times with the witch-hazel dampened cloth and then nodded.

“Lemmie grab a mirror so you don’t have to bend to see. Fraid I don’t have a full length Mirror.” He offered and set the tattoo gun carefully down where he could carefully clean it.

Whatever he’d been chanting he didn’t seem to have any inclination to mention it, he just looked generally pleased with his work.

“You know the rules, clean clothes, loose clothes, unscented soap careful what you moisturize with so you don’t smother it.” He was saying it pro-forma to be sure, but it was always better safe than sorry.

"Well enough on my end, but the tattoo guns are a lot more gentle than the chisel." He grinned. "You're the one who passes judgement on how it looks. Plus we'll need to see what might scab out with it too, could still end up with little faded spots in the lines."
He offered her the mirror.

"Aye mate, like I said I do touch ups free, at least the ones where its literally a miss on my part. If you come back in a few years to touch up faded ink I might charge a small fee for using more ink, but honestly, its just to keep in supplies at that point." He grinned.

"If you ever want to add more let me know, I don't think I'd recommend anything with the chisel but your skin works bloody well with the gun. Damned pleased the runs can make it work here let me tell you."

He made a non comittal but amused sound. "The only people I know who have ever found the chisel relaxing have no sense of pain at all, that was an adventure let me tell you. The gun is its own story." He chuckled. "Normally I'd ask for money but…seems I've got a room mate all the sudden. We could use something like a changing screen since, I'll swap you if you can pick one up on leave."

“Uh…well, HER name is… Lina, and SHE wasn’t expecting to find out someone was already in the room.” He cleared his throat looking embarrassed.

"That...would be amazing." He said with a nod. I considered moving into the basement too just to be a gentleman but, bloody hell Mate, I don't want to be inking people down somewhere with that kind of reputation."

He shook his head vigorously at the thought.