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“Is that truly what happened?”
Damion, the tattoo artist of the new Zaunite store Perfect Ink examined his new customer closely as he talked on in on, at this point becoming nothing but an inaudible drool. His design was almost complete as he looked forward with perceptive eyes, dabbing the pen in the ink. The customer wanted something simple, as they all do, but this particular tattoo bored him to no end.
The customer wanted a tattoo of Doctor Mundo on his back, particularly the iconic “Mundoverse”. As if having to give an explanation, the man explained he wanted to show women that he was not only strong like Dr. Mundo, but that he was also smart.
It is a good thing Damion savors patience.
With a twist of his hand, Damion pricked at the man’s skin with extreme precision, drawing the broad and strong chin of the famed Dr. Mundo. Couldn’t help but try and concentrate on the annoying drabble that was this man’s “issues” for a few seconds…
“And der I was, just starin’ at deh guy in fron’ o’ me! He thought he was so tough! You wanna know what I did to deh shmuck!? BAM! Mah fist went deep in ‘is sorry face! Yeah!”
The man held his hand up to Damion, as if wishing for some form of a….
Damion took a deep breath, replying to the customer.
“You surely seem strong, getting this tattoo shows an.. Immense amount of genius and prowess, as you have already intricately told me.”
Damion was almost unable to control himself from laughing at this sorry excuse of a being as he curved with his pen, drawing the gouged and exposed eyes of the rather hideous Dr. Mundo. The man, as much as a “genius” as he was, decided that it was a good idea to continue trying to talk to Damion.
Just wait until you finish.. Then he will be gone. Just wait.
“Anyway, I came back dat day to fin’ out dat mah wife was cheatin’ on me wit’ dat same shmuck I smashed in deh face! So I walked over der with my fists raised and I beat deh hell outta dat sore losah!”
This man… Is driving me insane.
Damion’s quick artistic hand was now at the speck of hair that lay upon Mundo’s head, the excitement of this finally coming to an end was almost exasperating for him, but he stayed quiet as he continued to draw. The little finite features that Damion took immense precision and skill to commence would usually be missed by most “Professional” artists in Runeterra. It was no disguise, Damion was probably the best artist Valoran had to offer, but he choose a solitary life of a tattoo artist for his path.
Ask him yourself if you are so interested.
With the tattoo almost in completion, Damion’s eyes glowed with intent as he moved his hand in quick pace, like a man pricking at a fly with chop sticks. He slices and cuts with his pen, etching out the design on the flesh of his target. For this artist, drawing was like initiating combat with oneself, a battle against the mind and the focus one brings forth into their work. A sword master dances with his blade in hand, following fluid motions of repeated stances in his mind, practiced unto perfection, but he knows when he must step out of his normal bounds to face his opponent, just as a superior artist knows when patience and concise motions must be replaced with skilled timed quick pricks and slices. Every now and then the quick fluid strikes of the masterful artist would find its way back to the ink bottle, taking a quick masterful thrust and slicing back through the air to make its way back to his target.
With one final motion of his pen, he completed the shadowing in the crease of Mundo’s shirt… What a wonderful peace of art it was, although it was surely not complimented by the disgusting image that was the proud Zaunite Doctor. Although the image was entirely black, it looked to be an exact replica of Mundo himself, but it was much more finite and in reality… Better.
“But it’s all black!” Said the foolish man.
Patience is obviously not your forte.
With a quick flash of Damion’s hand, a mesh of colors sprouted out from his hand, oozing out like snails from a hole. Damion placed his hand on the image, allowing the colors to slowly crawl their way to the masterful piece of art, their splotched trail slowly disappearing back into Damion’s skin. The colors finally made their way, forming a pentagonal prism around the singular image, standing still for a few seconds. From their small cores a short hissing sound began to crackle and pop at the air, like that of a lighted piece of dynamite. Then with a furious explosion they popped and splattered all on the image, the small parts slowly making their way to their proper places. They absorbed in with the black ink, replacing it’s crude coloring with their own bright sparkling mesh.
“There, it is finished just as you requested.” Damion said, giving a slight nod to the customer as he slowly walked away from the work area, carrying his supplies with him. The oaf of a man could not help but writhe in the excellence of his drawing as he turned his back to the mirror, admiring his “immensely good looks” as he said it…
It was quite annoying.
With his materials placed in their proper areas, the artist looked back at the man with quick eyes and a grin on his face.
This is always my favorite part.
“So, ‘ow much do I owe yah?” The man said as he looked at the mirror, seeing the reflection of Damion.
The artist only chuckled in response as his hand writhed with a dense black ink, swirling in between his fingers as he moved them malevolently, a dark intent burning in his deep eyes. The door quickly shut as the dark ink shot out from the cracks in the ground and in the door, encompassing everything in their sight. The man turned in horror to Damion, raising his fists in some hope of defense.
“Do-don’t make meh ‘urt yah man!”
The pathetic notion sent Damion into a overpowering cackle as he rose his hand, the black energy swirling chaotically and sporadically with the swift motion. The image on the man’s exposed back began to fluxuate and pulse with energy as Damion’s grip tightened, the man screaming at the top of his lungs at the immense pain. The foolish man fell to his knees, broken by the overpowering agony that shot forth in his body. Blood slowly dripped from the sides of the newly created piece of art as it pulsed faster and began to beat with energy.
This… Is my favorite part.
Damion watched in excitement as the image raveled and shook on the man’s back, the black energy that seeped from the ground began to siphon into the drawing, trying to pull something out. Then, a massive blue hand shoots out from the man’s back, blood and little pieces of flesh rocketing out from the wound in a mesh of immense amounts of blood. The man screamed in agony as another blue hand shot forth from the opening in his back, trying to climb out of the suffocating prison that was this man. Finally, in a spurt of energy, the being shot out from the man’s back, more blood shot out as flesh was torn and ravaged by the massive being.
A new creation..
The being stood tall by the side of the man, looking down at him with immense eyes and his tongue waggling in the air carelessly. With his massive hand, he lifted the helpless being, forcing him to stare at the large man eye to eye, the blood from the man’s back oozing out from the beings massive hands. The man screamed at the top of his lungs as the immense amount of shock snapped into his sense of reality.
“WOT!? IT CANNOT BEH!?!?!”
Dr. Mundo, clad in his traditional Mundoverse work out uniform, stared forward at the foolish man with his massive eyes, the syringe piercing indefinitely at the shoulder of the massive man.
“Dr. Mundo no like small man!!”
Damion walked to the side of Mundo, talking in a calm voice as the disturbed man screamed and shook with all his might.
“Mundo, do not worry. He will become apart of my vast collection. As you will.”
Mundo nodded as he looked back at the man, giving a massive grin.
“You are so dead! Mundo like artist man!”
Damion placed his hand on the man and Mundo as the black ink swirled around the two menacingly, the artists eyes sparkling with a deep dark intent as he grinned. The ink shot forth from their sporadic placement in the air, attaching itself to the two beings. The two, helplessly covered by the massive amounts of ink watched in horror as they saw themselves being absorbed into the man’s skin with the ink. The man screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to fight back in anyway he could possibly think of, but it was already to late for this foolish man. The Doctor only laughed and giggled as he began to be absorbed, laughing at the screaming man.
With a final gasp, the screams and laughter of the two infantile beings finally came to a close. Damion looks to his arms, watching as the two dash quickly up his arm to his chest, being absorbed into him. With a grin, the artist walked over to his desk, taking out a piece of paper and his pen. Once again, he stabbed at the ink bottle with his pen, slicing forth at the paper in quick concise strikes.
The cover up is always amusing.
When the drawing was finished, Damion lifted the paper up, staring forward at the drawing as he gave a quick cackle. His hand swirled with black energy as he quickly lifted it up, as if he was conjuring something from the ground. In a mesh of the immense black ink that writhed the ground, a being was formed by Damion.
The man who came into the store.
He turned the man around, looking to his back.
Yes… The tattoo was there.
The Artist looked to the man, talking in a commanding voice.
“Your orders are simple ink blot… Assume the personality of the man I have absorbed, and act out his life endlessly.”
The man nodded, walking out of the store with a grin on his face. As commanded, the ink blot ran up to a group of women, showing off his newly acquired tattoo.
Damion only smiled as he walked outside, turning the sign around…
And the process repeats… Gahahaha…
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