Dekker always wanted his shop to be a place that his artists could call a home. That is what tattooing had been for him when he was young and lost. It seemed that even with tattooing becoming more prominate in society the people who actually devoted their lives to the art were the misfits. It was a safe place for those who needed a place to feel like they were part of something greater.

When Dekker had met Niqui she needed a place like this shop and he was thrilled that he could give it to her. The girl was lucky though, much luckier than some of the other people he had met and helped through life. Yes she had her nightmares, the went through very hard times, he would never discredit her hard past. Niqui had found love, and even had a little one who was the light of their life. Not many people could pick everything up so quickly and into something so wonderful.

Even with all that, with her life picking up, he could see that she still needed that art. That was a mark of a true artist, when the art was something that despite good or bad needed to be a part of life. Dekker laughed gently at the blonde. “I do all the paper work during the day, come on now.” Actually he did the paper work when he got back to the apartment above the shop after his last appointment. As long as he got it done he could say he did it whenever, using the business side of all of it as an excuse for his house just seemed the best option.

It was good to hear Niqui say she missed tattooing out loud. There was nothing quite like it. Tattooing was personal and technical. You got to make a connection with countless people all while doing something that you loved. “Of course what kina jerk would I be if I didn’t welcome back my apprentice?” There was a good amount of people that Dekker had taught how to tattoo. He kept up on their careers. Of course there were also those who gave up and walked away from the machine because in the end it simple didn’t work out. That was always disappointing but he would rather someone bow out of tattooing that go on without their heart in it.

He continued to watch as she worked. “Remember to pull lines towards you, that way they are more confidant.” As she grew in her career and her skills got stronger she could push and pull the lines and they would be consistent. For now it was best she see the needle sin the tube and monitor the depth. “And don’t be afraid to sculpt. It’s not about being perfect it’s about distracting an hiding mistakes. Sculpting lines is a good way to go in and smooth out small shakes here and there and bring in different line widths to add interest.” Dekker was sure he had gone over that lesson as he was describing the tattooing process. Now that she was working on him actually tattooing it was the best time to reiterate those points.

Being a vampire was never something Dekker hated being. At first he was angry because he felt he couldn’t do what he loved. There was five years that he had to deal with not tattooing. The blood lust was too much. He would become ravenous. Dekker tried and tried and tried. He could get through a small tattoo but nothing more until he learned how to control himself.

He had to get a routine down. Dahlia taught him that. A big part of why he could never hold turning him against her was because she supported his art. The woman taught him how to be patient, and drink well before even attempting. With time he was able to tattoo longer and longer.

Dekker only slipped once. It was early on of course. He was just so determined to keep himself there and under control. That led to a man getting torn apart. Dekker was not a subtle feeder when he was truly hungry. He would claw at the flesh to get to blood. He would be covered in red by the time he was done. It was upsetting and that was the part of his vampireism he hated. Dekker didn’t like the brutality that took him over. There were few things that shook Dekker. How blood lust took over and explosions. The years didn’t take away his PTSD. It probably never would.

Dekker just smiled. Sleeping or not his artists knew that he spent every waking moment dedicated to his shop. He worked hard because he was given the gift to do something he loved for eternity. He got to watch as tattooing evolved and changed and became more beautiful.

“Maybe…but you have talent.” His eyes were fallowing her machine. “It was tough making the decision, hoping that you would pull it together.” He shrugged. “Honestly I was more worried that mommy mode would take over and you would be a wreck without your chicklit.” Talent or not there were some things that called louder than art to some. So far it seemed that Niqui would be able to balance it.

She didn’t vocally acknowledge his direction but he could see her adjusting as she line the tattoo. All little things he tried to make sure she was remembering. Work on the tips of the tube, to make sure that the needle isn’t sinking too far in. Listen to the machine, how it bogged, how it hummed, make sure that it was at the right voltage. He didn’t want to bark at everything she was doing. There would be a little chat at the end so he could explain more and have her see it.

When she cleaned off his leg to reveal the line work he shifted his chair and looked it over. It wasn’t too bad, better than he would expect form someone so young in their career and coming back after that amount of time. “Good. But you see on some of your curves?” he pointed these things out not to beat her down. This was just one of those things that knowing your mistakes was crucial. Tattooing was not about being perfect it was about adapting and hiding the mistakes. “You tilted your machine instead fo keeping it upright. The needle is then goin in at an angle; it could blow out while healin. So what I would do is bring shading in from there. Use the black to hide it make the water look darker in the middle so it all matches. “

He smiled at her comment. “If it was easy everyone would be doin it. For every eight apprentice’s only one is expected to make it.” Dekker had known some tattoo artist that had twelve apprentice’s and none stuck with it for one reason or another. “Just remember with color it’s easiest to go from dark to light that way nothin get’s muddy.”

A soft smile graced his lips. Dekker liked to think that he had a good judge of character. He had been around people for long enough Dekker currently knew the difference between a shit bag and someone who enjoyed the world of body modification. At one time he was more on the shit bag side of it.

He did have a soft spot for anyone who had a story, people who had overcome. Not that he wanted anyone to have to have a hard life. As much as he would kick and complain about how ‘terrible’ it had been. Truthfully he did himself in with a bad attitude and wanting to complain. Getting tossed into a foreign country with a gun and some boots and told ‘thank you for sacrificing for your country’ did him some good. It humbled him. Tattooing a gave him a purpose.

It had seemed that Niqui found tattooing as an outlet that was healthy. Her husband and child then grounded her. Dekker supported everything in her life because he wasn’t just her boss. A shop was a family. Not only did he want her to be good, she needed to remain humble and constantly have that thirst to learn. Too many times had Dekker seen a young artist get cocky and then soon plateau.

As his young protégé quietly corrected as he spoke Dekker watched. The music around was calming. He knew that sometimes the other’s would tease him for the classic songs that he liked. It was calming. The old songs helped him cope with the ever changing world. He tried to be fair and when it was more than just him in the shop he would let one for the girls pick. Normally it was something fast paced with electric guitars and gruff vocals.

That soft smile grew. “Believe me if I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t let you tattoo me. And if I didn’t care about making you better I woul’n’t say a thing.” He was sure that she knew that. Back when he was learning there was a lot of bullying that went on. Guys would humiliate the apprentices’. There would be teasing. It was all to prove that one was worthy.

His apprentices weren’t ever picked on. Of course they had to clean, go through it all like was expected. The floors the counters. Tubes. Set up and break down. All of it and more. Niqui was on the very end of it. She no longer had to set up for him, or scrub his tubes. Dekker just watched her, looked over the tattoos she was looking to do. Or that was where she was before she left. So far it didn’t look like much was forgotten. He was just being nit picky while he was this close and watching every line she made.

She worked on the color now. Small circle so that the color would pack in, just like he had taught her. “Oh you know that answer,” Dekker crooked and eyebrow. Then again that might have just been a passing comment closer to when she was just starting. Though he did have his preference Dekker could do most styles. “American traditional. It was what I focused on when I started and have always loved.” It was a little more than just that. When he was learning to tattoo that was the only style there was. After a couple of years Japanese came state side.

Niqui made a face at him and Dekker just returned with a careful curl of his own lip and crossing his eyes. Years of practice helped with understanding how to talk or even snarl at someone without flashing his fangs. The face didn’t last long and soon gave way to a laugh. She seemed to be falling back into comfort with tattooing, even being in the shop. He picked up on how she was nervous before, looking around on the walls trying to catch what had changed in her time away. Not much really did change in the handful of months. Niqui’s spot was still Niquis spot. Really Dekker had just added some new pieces of art here and there and replaced one of the couches up front with three black and gold chairs.

“I don’t think you have seen some of my tattoos,” another small laugh. Being a vampire did help all of his tattoos stay bright and stand the test of time. No sun meant no fading from the UV. He hadn’t covered anything yet, there was little to regret when it came to the ink on his body, even the sillier ones. Like his armpit tattoo, ‘don’t laugh’ scrawled on his waist, his palm tattoo, and even a certain tattoo of two pigs on his side. “And I don’t think you would want to risk your spot either.” Only part of that was a joke. He was fairly relaxed when it came to what went on his body as long as he knew the artist was having fun. Still if she did do something bad on him he had no problem telling her kindly that maybe just art was in her blood but not tattooing.

He knew that she wanted to be the best that she could. There was even a hint that maybe she was gunning for being a famous sought after name. She did well in choosing a mentor. Dekker was admitably humble when it came to his skill, but the gift of having close to eighty years of tattooing under his belt clearly showed. He had his love of American traditional but everything staple style he was good at, Japanese, soft black and grey, neo traditional. New school had him in the it took longer for him to actually design but he could even pull that off like the old masters of that style. Only because he knew and learned under those people when the styles came around.

“I lost my chance at doin that,” He teased. “If there would have been any makin you stand outside in a pink bunny footie pajamas that would have happened in the very begin’n not at the end silly.” He could never say bad about the girl. Her skill was only as good as his teaching at this point. Natural talent was nice but tattooing was something that was only really learned by being shown how to do it properly. If she got stuck or didn’t graduate her apprenticeship it was because Dekker had failed her. That was how he saw it anyhow.

Most of Dekker’s tattoos were his most beloved style. His chest, neck and throat were. Half of his arms, pieces on his leg. The others were all scattered in style, a good chunk done in Japanese. “People who say things like that don’t really know how to do it.” He smirked. There was a time that he would get mad, snap at those people. Now he just let his work speak more. He would simply invite them to put their skill where their mouth was. Most of people’s American Traditional was more like Nontraditional with their color choice and adding a bunch of little things. True traditional was done in just five colors: black, yellow, red, brown, blue. “A portrait is no harder than something like you are doing if you know the technique behind it. The only reason people get intimidated is because of the connection with the person that they are getting it of.” He shrugged. Simile tattoos were harder than things with a million little details. Straight lines and circles were the hardest thing to do. “When you strip a tattoo of all the little frills and bells and are left with simple straight forward line work and large fields of color to pack in true technical skill is on display. If those lines aren’t clean then it’s obvious, if that color isn’t packed it’s on display.”

A careful grin was given to Niqui. Dekker wasn’t sure he was the best ‘boss man’ ever, but he did like to think that he was at least a fair shop owner. Technically the girls that worked for him were all their own bosses. They just paid him to have a chair and space to work. A boss was never something he wanted to be. So he respected the people he had working for him. It took a lot of trust but Dekker had hand picked each one. For the first week he was serious business with each girl as they joined. Not that he ever thought that any of them would try and walk over him but there was always the chance. He would have none of it. Now they were a shop family and nothing to could break that.

“I’m flattered that you think that. Then ya should if you let me teach you.” His humble ways only went so far. Dekker knew that his should could easily be the best. With his background and name in the industry alone. He wanted young and talented artist because he could help mold them along with reap the benefits of hat talent.

The face that she pulled next made him chuckle. “Ah…nah, I was figurin’ that I could just go an find some in a second hand store.” There was surely a reference in there that Dekker was missing. He made no real effort to keep up with the times as they changed. Binging on movies as they came out. Hording music as it popped up on radios. In the back of his head a voice told him he needed to. If he was trying to come off like he was the average thrisy something year old tattoo artist. The truth was Dekker didn’t care about most of the media as it updated. He wanted his crooners.

As Niqui continued to color in the tattoo he watched. Taking note of what she was doing, how she was doing it. He just laughed as she snapped at it. “I was hardly saying tha you were doing anything wrong.” Dekker shook his head. “I love the color go for it, no need to keep your pallet limited. You have the colors at your disposal that is a dream the traditional guys wished would come true in their life time.” It was a fact. He knew that he was just itching for new pigments as he was tattooing. Dekker was just lucky that he was gifted an eternal life so he could.

When she cleaned the finished tattoo he looked down at his leg. A proud smile spread across his face. "It looks good." Dekker pushed up from the chair and balanced on his good leg. “Give me hand and help me over to the mirror? I wanna look at it there.” He asked, one hand resting on the arm of the barber chair. It would be annoying to ware his normal prosthetic for a while. Dekker tried to remember if he had any that just relied on straps more than a sleeve like he used to wear.

“Ooof old man. Come on now you hurt my pride there,” He mocked and stuck out his bottom lip. She didn’t know the half of it. Dekker had stopped really thinking about age, what old meant sense he had met Dahlia. She and Tahlia both quickly got it in him that a lady never tells and a gentleman never asks. Even if they didn’t physically age It seemed that they clung to this idea that they were old. Dekker didn’t care, then again he was fairly young when it came to a vampire.

“So I’m guessin that was a Christmas movie what you said was from?” He asked. Most movies seemed complicated to make. As the years rolled by more and more was added to cinema. It made his head spin trying to even understand how any of it was possible. Especially the popular muggle films. They were just so grand. Apparently most of the stuff was done with computers. Those ridiculous things that he was sure he would never get the hang of.

He chuckled carefully, not wanting to mess her up just when they were so close to finishing. “He is, I’ll be proud to wear him.” Honestly her comment was flattering. What Dekker was most proud of was that he was able to be more than just some monster or a name on some faded list of veterans that were a victim of war. He had art that was walking around with someone for the rest of their life. Tecniques in the tattooing world that had stood the test of time and were used still. Sure Niqui had no idea that there were things that he had contributed to the scene so long ago. There was a mix of teal that was something he made when the newer colors were coming out and pigments were being tested and mixed. He knew and somewhere it said his name next to the color.

Dekker steadied himself on her and hoped over to the full length mirror just across from Niqui’s station with her help. Another perk of his vampirism was that the longest the tattoo would take to heal on him was a week. A third of the time it took normally. He still had to keep up the act though, claim that all the steps were happening when he knew they should.

“Oh yeah I have a different one upstairs. I might need your help to get up there if you don’t mind.” He glanced down at her and then at the refection. There were some silly rumors about his kind. Crosses and mirrors somehow betraying him and showing what he was. If the first were true he would have birst to flames by just stepping foot in his own shop and looking on the wall. The second he would have somehow had to avoid the multiple mirrors around. In the end it would have been a hard thing to to hiding what he was from the people he worked with.

“You did a great job Niqui.” Dekker said as he looked at his new piece in the mirror. “Looks like ya didn’t forget too much.” He looked at her with a proud grin. As if she were his daughter and she had brought home a perfect report card from school. “I’m still gonna look over everything ya do. Maybe keep some of the bigger stuff for later, but in general not a whole lot will be different from when you left.” No need to get too excited and allow full sleeves and back pieces when she had just gotten back form a long leave period.