It wasn't exactly easy owning a business in the middle of a shit hole like Gotham… Now some would assume this statement to be something of an opinion, but in Eva's case this statement was a fact and in her case an incredibly harsh truth. Sure, rent on the building was reasonable. Shit, she was a college drop out in her mid-twenties who ran her own business. She was her own boss, how many college graduates could say that… Probably many, but that was beside the point. Either way, Gotham was a rough place, difficult to grow up in and difficult to stay in. Most people tried to get out once they hit college, but being a foster kid wasn't from a city with a reputation wasn't very attractive to colleges outside of Gotham.

Spinning the keys to the shop around her point finger, Eva locked the door and went about cleaning up. She had a strict rule that artists clean their stations, but that didn't exactly mean the floor was safe from germs. Eva had been questioning for a couple years her thought process on renting out a location on the docks. All that wind, sometimes the sand got in. It was mess. Hell, one time a fucking seagull sauntered into the place. Smirking, Eva pushed the mop about the black linoleum floor. Her artists had loved that, the next day she came in to find that chair the seagull had occupied on its visit had been permanently reserved with commemorative sketches, fuck, Christian got a tattoo of that flying rat as a gag. What some people would do to commit to a joke, but who was she to judge? She had a tattooed "Despite my ghoulish reputation, I really have the heart of a small boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk" on the inner part of her right arm. Christian had his idiot humor, whereas Eva had her dark humor.

Shoving the now cold mop into the bucket, Eva surveyed the interior of "Naughty Needles." Ready to go for tomorrow morning. She had a couple sessions scheduled, both of them regulars. Though Eva was no fan of tooting her own horn she was well known in the inked part of the Gotham community. Her favorite subjects of work were usually warped, dark, and even sickening. Last week a member of the Russian mob had come in wanting the lips of a woman coated in blood on his chest, complete with Eva's trade mark ability to induce shine on the ink to make it look like real blood. Gross out tattoos were a personal favorite, the more messed up the more creative and indulging her work could be.

Eva was just about to head to the back to grab her purse and a jacket when a sharp rap on the door sounded. She froze, hand straying to the register where a gun was kept. Fingers grazing the cool metal, she took a breath and called out to the stranger at the door from her position. "I'm sorry but we're closed for the night! Come back tomorrow!"

There was another rap on the door. Taking the pistol in hand, Eva walked quietly over to the window next to the door. Drawing back the black-out curtains she attempted to make out the figure. The lights on the docks had long gone out for the evening, casting the person in shadow. Confident in her decision to make the glass on the windows facing the docks bullet proof, Eva tapped the window and pointed the gun. "I said we're closed asshole!"

She could tell from the profile that it was a man, he turned slightly and looked her up and down. Eva had lived in Gotham all her life, in her time she had spent on earth she had tased 3 guys, maced 5. Adding a guy with a bullet in the leg to the list of assholes that tried something wasn't much of a stretch. This guy though, he didn't seem to be threatened by the gun. Eva's hands shook a little, but she kept the gun steady. The man drew closer to the window and that was when the light in the shop caught his face. Eva felt the breath steal from her as she looked into the eyes of a criminal that was all too familiar. Trying to regain her composure, Eva gritted her teeth and snarled. "I said we're closed. Leave or I'll call the cops!"

Ever so slowly, the red lips pulled back into a menacing grin, revealing a set of metal encrusted teeth. "Now, you must be Eva Anton?"

All Eva could do was blink in shock. When this guy knew your name, you were in trouble. Smirking, he pulled something from his coat pocket and pressed it to the window. It was one of Eva's businesses cards. Black in color, the lettering mixed purple and blue with an elegant variation of Impact font. On the bottom, there was quote that read "Beauty is skin deep. A tattoo goes all the way to the bone."

Eva stared at the car for a good minute and then felt the urge to gag when she noticed that the card had been horribly stained…. Was that blood? He chuckled. "You came highly recommended from a recent client. You've got serious talent, honestly I couldn't leave this bit of work."

Then he held up something else. Eva threw up a bit in her mouth. It was human skin, recently decked with the bloody lips of a woman. She couldn't tell where the inked blood ended and the real began. Swallowing down the bile, the tattoo artist looked up that the man. He seemed to be enjoying the fear in her eyes. "Now—"

He folded up the skin and tossed it to someone behind him. It was then that Eva noticed that he was not alone. "How about you unlock the door and we can begin my consultation, hmm?"

Eva licked her lips nervously. Of all the shit, of all the crazy fucks in Gotham, it had to be the Joker. A lazy smile revealed his glittering teeth. "Or, if you'd rather make it difficult…"

He slammed his hands against the glass and laughed. "Cause I'm good either way. I bet you have a lovely scream."

When he laughed, Eva felt a series of icicles being shoved into every vertebrae of her spine. Well, she didn't have much in the way of choice. Wasn't like she could whole up in the shop until he left, hell, he'd probably come back and trash the place. Eva had no qualms doing work on criminals, she'd inked the worst of them. This one though, Joker wasn't exactly stable. Say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, ink the wrong thing and that would get her a bullet in the head or worse. There was a knock on the window, jolting Eva out of her thoughts. "Let's make it easier. I've got a nice little selection of TNT in the car and I could knock out this whole building and drag you out…"

Eva stared at him, at the car behind him, and his goons. Letting him have his way would be best. Still holding onto her pistol, Eva pulled her keys out and unlocked the door and the Joke walked into "Naughty Needles" as if he owned the place.