Ezra stepped into the shop, the bell above the door jingling. Gen followed behind him, her white hair bound in a ponytail.
"Mr. Living Ink." Ezra nodded to the tall thin man that stood behind the counter. The artist was a subject of the City Lord and wouldn't be involved in the war. Besides, he would know what the tattoos are but wouldn't be able to tell what they actually do.
Living Ink smiled politely, returning the nod. "Welcome. What can I do for you today?"
"The usual." Ezra answered. "New tattoos. Same price."
"Ah." Living Ink nodded. "It is with great regret that I inform you that the price has increased."
"Increased?" Gen turned away from where she had been examining the inks. "Why?"
"It's a matter of demand and supply, ma'am." Living Ink nodded politely.
