Eva didn't go home that night. The thought of driving after that encounter was enough to freak her to the next level. Joker could be waiting for her, he could have his goons watching her, he could on a whim decide to follow her home and use her kitchen supplies to give Eva a home-made tattoo. The list of fuckery was endless and Eva couldn't see herself being able to drive without wrapping her car around a lamp post because a shadow looked too much like Joker or Batman.
Sleep evaded her, Eva stayed up most of the night trying to do more for "the Joker project." He wanted more, what did that even mean? Was she supposed to waste her valuable time spit balling tattoo designs only for him to reject them? Pausing, letting her pen rest on the screen, Eva thought for a second. Yes, that's exactly what she would do. Joker was priority now, even if he didn't pay. His distaste would be more than a huff and storming out the door. It would be a bullet in her head, a laugh, a huff, storming out the door, and in an insane twist, blowing up the whole damn dock out of spite.
Licking her lips, Eva got back to work, going over every second she spent talking to Joker. He liked blood effect, but he found her desire to limit the tattooed gore amusing. He seemed to enjoy the simplistic line work she was showing him. His overall look was disgustingly garish. Desperately detailed designs would derail the effect he had on people. Joker wasn't some mafia goon that needed ink to communicate himself a threat. He was a threat, the embodiment of danger with a reputation that screamed not to be screwed with if you value your everything. Shuddering, Eva found herself doodling something along the lines of a grinning skull with a jester cap. Next to be doodled were playing cards, A few seconds later she wrote the words "damaged." It didn't take long for her to erase that, subtly, the work needed subtly.
Eventually, Eva was forced to call in delivery at around 1am. Her terror had managed to burn through what she had eaten for dinner. Stress was taking over and when Eva stressed, she would grow ravenous. Snatching up her cell phone, she called a pizza place called "Slice of Hell" that operated till 2-2:30am. It was located a couple steps from Gotham Heights so it could get away with the name and its business hours without the place getting robbed. Eva had also done work on practically all of its employees including Virgil Kane, Slice of Hell's owner.
Eyeing her work, Eva a turn around the shop as she ordered. "Damn Eva!"
"Yeah hey Virgil."
She was surprised that he was working. Virgil ran the place, he shouldn't be doing graveyard stints "you should be sleeping!"
"So should you, what the fuck are you doing at the shop!?"
Virgil's voice quieted, though it didn't do anything to kill the excitement "I came in because Bruce Wayne stopped in with his date."
Eva smirked "Seriously Virgil you are whipped like the rest of Gotham, Wayne is just a guy and not even a good looking guy. His neck is huge."
Virgil huffed "Well, what would you do if he came into your place for a tattoo?"
Taking a seat, Eva laughed. "Let Deluca handle him, I'd get the major reimbursement by putting a spike in the station charge. All the money without having to deal with Mr. Richy Playboy."
There was a chuckle on the other end "You are ruthless Eva. I will warn you, Wayne's been eyeing Heather's sleeve throughout the meal, so she might be sending him way."
Eva groaned. Not another high maintenance client. Joker was enough. "You sure he's just eyeing her arm? Heather pretty damn hot."
A voice cut into the conversation. It had a bit of southern lilt to it "Thanks Eva, but he asked about the sleeve and I gave him your card."
Falling back into the couch, the tattooist knocked her head on the window. "Gee, thanks Heather."
"Welcome doll!"
Virgil came back on "Now I know you didn't call for the conversation. What're you looking for tonight?"
It was at that moment that Eva's stomach growled. "You still got the Third Circle special?"
"The medium mushroom, three cheese, jalapeños, buffalo chicken, celery, with pickled carrots and blue cheese crumbles?"
Eva nodded. "And a large soda."
"Yeah we still have it. All going to the shop."
"Alright, thanks Virge. Don't chap your lips kissing Wayne's ass."
She hung up before Virgil could retort.
It was about 6am when Eva called it quits and ate her last slice of the Third Circle special. The sun was finally rising, which meant that Gotham's nightly terrors would bed down for the day. She felt safer going home. Before locking up, Eva left an excuse note for Christian, Kia, and Deluca. On her way out to her car, she texted her two appointments and rescheduled them just as she pulled off the docks and onto the main rode.
15 minutes later, Eva pulled into the parking garage of her apartment. Rubbing her eyes, she dragged herself up the stairs. Pigeons (or flying rats if you preferred) had taken up their cooing in order to greet the morning. One of the rats had perched itself on the railing. Without a second thought, Eva smacked it. Causing the flying rodent to take wing as it cooed in pure disdain. Smirking, the tattooist fumbled for her keys and made weary attempts to unlock the door. Shit, wouldn't it be the cherry on top of everything if that pigeon belonged to Penguin. She was certain he couldn't speak bird. Still, seeing how Eva's luck took a turn down shit creek and towards the ocean of fuck all; he probably spoke pigeon fluently and Eva would be in for a rude awakening.
Hearing the click of the lock, she tried to open the door, it wouldn't budge. Groaning, Eva gave it a forceful kick "Piece of shit…"
Rent was cheap, but upkeep was nonexistent. Eva had complained about her door 2 months ago, and the landlord had yet to get off his lazy ass and take a look at it. Slamming the door, Eva went through the tiring process of shedding her jacket, purse, and keys onto the entrance table. Her shoes came next, though not as gracefully. One boot was being particularly stubborn, within seconds Eva was on the floor. Within minutes she was out cold and her raucous snores assaulted the apartment.