Gone OCs, AUs, Good/Bad Ideas and Headcannons

AU: A Flower Shop and a Tattoo Parlor Pt. 1

Oh boy espresso sure makes depresso go away

I don't usually like clichés, but I couldn't resist with the whole "flower shop and tattoo parlor" universe. And be prepared for confusion, is it Caike? Gairen? Ciana? Dram? I'm being legit merciless on this AU. Have fun when part 2 comes out next week and that is a PROMISE (for once)

Sorry for updating minimally in the past couple months ):/

-School Bus Sam the Sammy Sam Man

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Across the street, an empty store front with posters saying "UP FOR LEASE" hung in the dusty windows.

"I heard it was shut down for salmonella poisoning."

It was Drake. He was relatively tall and looked badass. Tattoos everywhere but his face. He did most of them.

Caine was hired straight of out grad school. He didn't care much for intellect and needed a summer job.

"T'sup intern?" Panda lightly punched his shoulder.

"Mmmh."

"Something on your mind?" Drake was standing next to him now.

"What do you think they'll replace it with?"

"Hopefully not another parlor."

"They wouldn't be allowed. There's a parlor on Klein Avenue so they would be shut down for over-saturation. No one needs three tattoo parlors in one city."

"Mr. Smarty-pants over here. If only that knowledge was enough to get you a job." Drake chuckled.

Caine was unaffected by Drake's shitty deprecating jokes.

"Too bad. I liked that café," said Panda from the counter.

~·~·~·

A week later it had been announced the new store would be a flower shop. Caine was excited to have a nice view from the front window.

"Hey fuck face!"

"Yeah?"

"Print these out." Drake handed him two sketches. Before someone got a tattoo, they would print out the sketch as a temporary tattoo to use as a guide. That was half Caine's job.

The other half was disinfecting the area of the tattoo before someone got it. He liked his job sometimes, when he got to prep tramp stamps for hot girls. That was one of the only perks.

But then came the times he prepped some drunk fraternity kid who lost a bet and now has a tattoo of a dick on his ass. Not Caine's best day.

~·~·~·~

"And why do you want to work here?"

"Uh," Quinn paused, "a salary?"

The interviewer laughed. "No silly, I mean really, are you good with people, do you really like flowers, do you like to see all the cute girls that come in for flowers, talk to me."

Quinn smiled, "My friend, out of town, she works at one of these. Says it's really fun. And at this point I don't think I'll get sick of the smell of flowers."

The interviewer was in fact a close friend of his mother, who had known Quinn for a while. She had brought him in to make sure they had plenty of employees to start with.

"Honetly Quinn, you seem compotent enough to work here. I mean, hell, a monkey could do this job."

"Awfully bold of you to assume I'm smarter than a monkey."