His alarm went off when the sun was already high in the sky and the street was bustling with activity, but the bedroom was still bathed in silence and complete darkness. Boggard "Bog" Kingsley groaned mournfully as the insistent blare relentlessly pulled him from the bliss of sleep. One long, lanky arm emerged from under a bundle of covers and slammed around on the night stand until he finally managed to silence the annoying device. Like a vampire rising from the dead he sat up and sleepily watched as the covers fell back onto the bed, hopelessly tangled in his fitful sleep. With another groan he pushed himself to his full height, suddenly towering over everything in the room.
Bog stumbled sleepily to the bathroom and proceeded to take a shower that consisted mostly of him staring blankly at the off-white tiles of the small cubicle and bending down slightly to rinse of the soap that he had half-heartedly rubbed into his hair. When he stepped out of his tiny shower the bathroom was filled with steam and one glance at the fogged up mirror was excuse enough not to shave. The stubble on his pointed chin would live to see another day. Bog's face was all hard angles and sharp features that he had inherited from his father. His cheekbones were high and very pronounced on his thing face and his pointed nose rested crookedly on his face, the result of one too many bar fights. He pushed his unruly black hair back so that it was out of his eyes and slicked back on his head. The stubborn locks refused to stay slicked down and instead one wayward hair draped down onto his forehead. Bog rolled his eyes at his hair's antics but decided to ignore it in favor of wrestling with his clothes.
A few minute later he shuffled into his small kitchen wearing ripped jeans and an old band t shirt. His gaze was locked on the antique coffee maker that was sitting innocently on the counter. He rifled around in the cupboards as the old machine started up and eventually he emerged victorious with a bag of coffee. As Bog waited for his coffee to magically fill his cup he slid on his warn black combat boots. They were about the only shoe that he could find that fit his huge feet. It seemed like for most of his life being his height and being skinny was more of a burden than a blessing. Especially with a mug like his.
Absentmindedly he rubbed at the prickly stubble that had taken up residence on his chin and desperately tried to push those poisonous thoughts out of his head for just one more minute. It had been nice waking up from a dreamless sleep for once and his head had been blessedly empty up until that moment. It was too late. Those poisonous little thoughts that whispered about how ugly and unworthy of love he was were erasing his good mood.
With a growl he forced himself to his feet. He snatched the familiar chipped mug off of its perch on the drying rack and angrily poured scalding coffee into his mug. He then slipped on his favorite leather jacket and left his apartment. Behind him the door slammed indignantly and the stairs echoed with the force of his steps. As he neared the bottom of the stairs the sound of people talking and music became louder until the walls were practically pulsing with the noise.
Bog yanked open the door at the bottom of the stairs and walked into a pub in the middle of lunch rush. He sipped his coffee as he gracefully made his way between tables towards the front door. He nodded to Stephanie, the bouncer and a childhood friend of his. The thick, muscular woman gave him a half smile but her steely eyes never left the interior of the bar. He dirty blonde hair was cropped short to her head and she was wearing a t-shirt with the name of the bar printed across it in big white lettering. The Dark Forest had been his father's bar and when his father had passed away Bog had inherited it. While he loved running the old place he divided his time between here and his Aunt's shop.
He had almost made it outside when suddenly a shrill voice echoed throughout the bar and stopped him in his tracks, "Bog!" An older woman with frizzy reddish brown hair hobbled up out of nowhere, dragging a stumbling young woman behind her.
"Look who I found just waiting around." Griselda Kingsley smirked and shoved the poor girl forward. She was obviously drunk already and had no idea what she was getting herself into. Bog took a deep calming breath and turned around to reluctantly address his mother and the latest 'wife material'.
"Guid mornin' mum." His deep voice rumbled with a thick Scottish accent and he warily watched as the girl in front of him swayed dangerously. Suddenly she stumbled over nothing and sent her fruity drink splashing onto the ground. The majority of it managed to soak the bottom of Bog's jeans and his boots. He snarled in disgust and he short temper flared up like a firework. His electric blue eyes practically sizzled with anger as he glared at his mother and the girl she had dragged along with her.
Griselda just ignored his furious look and quickly ushered the sloshed girl away from the mess. She waved her hands dismissively and the crooked grin on her face remained in place.
"Oh don't worry about her dear. There are plenty of lovely young women in the bar today. Care to take a crack at a few?" She winked and elbowed his side hard enough that he flinched and looked down at her in a glorious mix of fury and embarrassment.
"Mum. I dorn't-" he tried to protest but Griselda cut him off with another screech.
"THEO! COME CLEAN UP THIS MESS!" Almost immediately a short skinny guy rushed out from the kitchen with a mop and a bucket. He had an eager smile on his face and when he realized where the mess was it grew even larger. He hurriedly began mopping but all of his attention was focused on Stephanie.
"H-hi Steph." H greeted her tentatively and she spared him a slight smile and a head nod before going back to watching the lunch crowd. Theo immediately turned bright red and his grin became impossibly bigger as he happily mopped up the mess of drink.
"Now no more excuses Bog. I want you to go find a lady and charm the pants off of her." Griselda scolded her son who slumped slightly and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Mum ah dorn't hae time. Ah gotta get tae work." He growled out and like a flash of lightning Griselda's smile transformed to a disapproving frown and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't like that you are still working for that...that harpy!" She spat out the word like it had burned her and narrowed her eyes at her son. Dreading the idea of having this argument again, Bog slowly inched back towards the door. Before he could think of an answer there was a crash as the girl that Griselda had been pushing on Bog knocked over a stool and her own glass. In that moment of distraction Bog darted out of the bar and onto the street.
The sunlight hit him like a searchlight and he was momentarily blinded as his eyes tried to adjust to the onslaught of bright light. The bar had been dimly lit and his apartment was barely lit so the sudden intrusion of sunlight affected him more than usual. Cursing under his breath, Bog trudged down the street, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes burning slightly. He only had to walk a few blocks before he reached his destination, a small tattoo shop called 'Strange Magic' sat nestled between a restaurant and Bog's favorite bookstore.
His Aunt Aura Plum ran the tattoo shop and happily employed her favorite, and only, nephew on the weekdays during the afternoons. He specialized mostly in cover ups but occasionally he took a client that wanted something dark or too complex for Plum. Bog braced himself, his grip tightening on his coffee cup, and then pushed open the door. He was immediately assaulted by the sights and sounds that were unique to Plum. The short curvy woman was clad in a skin tight sparkly blue dress and her cotton candy pink hair was piled on top of her head in a messy style that looked vaguely like a beehive had been perched on top of her head. Her face was caked with colorful makeup and her body was covered in jewelry. She was pierced from head to toe, and sported an impressive tattoo collection, half of which she did herself.
Plum's work was impressive to say the least and she was the only person that Bog trusted with his own tattoos. As it stood both of his arms were covered in angry, dark vines, only broken up by leaves and the occasional pink primrose. The tattoos connected on his shoulders and became a set of dragonfly wings that had yet to be finished.
When Plum caught sight of Bog she put her hands on her hips and smirked teasingly at her nephew. "Well well well. Look who showed up." Bog just walked past her towards the secluded room that housed his station. The decor of the little shop was a mix between whimsical and just plain random but Bog's space was dark and comfortable and completely devoid of sparkles. As he walked past plum he was hit with a wall of her perfume and he had to cough slightly to dispel enough of it for him to breathe.
"Fuck Plum, ye wearin' enough perfume today?" He groused grumpily and Plum frowned for a moment before the mischievous glint returned to her eye. She followed Bog back to his station much to his chagrin and lingered in the doorway as he began to set up his equipment.
"You're just grumpy because today is the last day of the best." She grinned and Bog looked up at her in confusion for a moment before it hit him. Plum had a proclivity for tattooing matching tattoos for couples that came in. Didn't matter how cheesy or how bad, Plum would gladly tattoo just about any matching tattoo for half price. Unfortunately that gave the shop a reputation and most of their clientele consisted of lovesick fools looking to get matching ink. It made Bog sick. Not long after he became proficient in cover-ups, Bog made a bet with his Aunt that every tattoo that she did would end in a cover-up done by him. He was the only cover-up artist in town and made sure that the shop also had a reputation for sick cover-ups.
Only about a month ago Plum had tattooed two teenagers that had just graduated from high school with matching infinity signs that contained each other's names. Almost as soon as the customers left Bog had blurted:
"Ah give it a month." Plum had immediately accepted the bet and thus began their little competition. Bog always won.
They'll shaw up. Ah know it. Now lae me aloyn woman. Ah got stuff tae do." He smirked and relaxed in his chair, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing helping him keep his sanity. In a place like 'Strange Magic' it probably was. He had about an hour of alone time before the door jingled to signal that a customer had walked into the shop. After a minute, Plum's tense voice echoed back to his station.
"Bog... you have a customer." It sounded like someone was pulling her teeth the way she said it and a victorious smirk spread across Bog's face as he got up and strutted out to the lobby. Standing at the counter and refusing to look at Plum was the young girl that she had tattooed a month ago. When the girl saw Bog she hurried over to him and away from Plum who managed to simultaneously look hurt and angry. Bog just grinned at his aunt and ushered the girl back to his private work place.
She requested that the tattoo be covered up by her favorite flower, a rose. Bog had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He could do roses in his sleep he did so many of them. Instead he prepped his ink and silently got to work, blazing through the intricate and delicate flower like it was nothing. A couple hours later the piece was done and he was checking the girl out at the front. As if on cue the boy with the matching tattoo shuffled into the shop. He froze when he caught sight of his ex and Bog had to stop himself from turning around and sticking his tongue out at Plum. The girl shoved her money at him and then bolted from the store, steadfastly not looking at the boy.
"Lemme guess. Ye wanna cowre up th' tattoo ye got lest month?" He leaned on the counter and spun the pen he was holding in between his fingers. The awkward look on the boy's face only got worse as he wordlessly nodded yes and a smile spread across Bog's face.
"Excellent." He murmured and then led the way back to his station. He cleaned everything down and then got to work on the Godzilla ripping out of the boy's arm. As he worked the boy chattered on endlessly about the movie, its history, the remakes, his favorite scenes. Just about anything he could think of about Godzilla. By the end of the session Bog was starting to understand why the girl had broken up with this kid. Once the piece was done and he had been paid he turned around and smirked at Plum who was angrily flipping through a magazine at her station.
"Pay up love guru." He said sarcastically and Plum reluctantly fished fifty bucks out of her wallet before throwing the cash at a still smirking Bog. She pouted as she walked over to the front counter and fixed her nephew with a determined glare.
"You're like the grinch of love." She said petulantly Bog just chuckled and bowed in acceptance of his new title.
"Yer a fool if ye think tattoos are gonna make people faa in love." He snarked as he swallowed the last of his now cold coffee. He put the mug aside mournfully and looked out at the darkening streets. It was still during business hours but a storm was rolling in that was darkening the sky and making the wind groan as it raced past their shop.
"Someday my little love recipe is going to work and then you'll be the one owing me money!" Plum huffed and Bog rolled his eyes, deciding that it would be best to ignore her, at least it was until she made one more spiteful comment.
"And I hope that it's you that falls victim to it." She smirked when Bog stiffened and turned to face her, his face as dark as thunder and his blue eyes blazing with fury.
"Ye keep yer meddlin' hans it ay mah life! Ah dornt wanna hae tae deal wi' ye an' mum. Yer almost worse than 'er!" He roared indignantly but Plum just rolled her eyes like he was a child throwing a tantrum. An observation that wasn't too far off. Neither of them noticed the roaring of a powerful engine growing closer to their shop. They also didn't notice when a deep purple motorcycle came to a stop in front of their shop.
"I'm sick of you glooming up my shop with your ban on lovey dovey tattoos you big GRINCH!" Plum screeched as the rider got off of the bike and started walking towards the door.
" Because love is dangerous. It weakens ... It rots. It destroys order. And without order, what is left? CHAOS!" Plum rolled her eyes at the familiar rant but in response Bog only raised his voice, his face turning red with the force of his anger. Plum opened her mouth to retort but someone cleared their throat pointedly. Plum's face immediately transformed into a friendly smile and they both turned to look at the woman that had waltzed into the shop like she owned the place.
"How can I help you dear?" Plum asked in a sickly sweet tone and Bog just huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't evn paying attention to the customer as he stewed in his own ire. The woman spared him a glance that went unnoticed before turning her brown eyes to Plum.
"I'm here for him." She nodded to Bog who suddenly looked at her in surprise and confusion. Plum wilted a little when she realized that wasn't going to get her ink on the woman's dainty little form.
"I need a cover up. Now." Bog just nodded in shock and gestured towards his room. The woman nodded to him and led the way. Bog spared a confused glance at Plum who just shrugged and went about her business.
"You coming bean pole?" Her voice called from the back and Bog hurried after her, slightly impressed by her no nonsense tone.
" So whit can Ah dae fur ye?" He asked gruffly as he sat down in his chair. To his utter shock the woman ripped off her shirt to reveal tanned, smooth skin. She turned around and still managed to pin his startled eyes with a serious look.
"I want you to give me wings."