❀ *ﾟ min yoongi. thirty. cis male. he/him. homosexual sagittarius. ⇝ looks like samuel jung blew in two weeks ago and never left. they’ve proven themselves to be calm & creative but being paranoid & impulsive is their downfall. it’s only fitting that you’re somebody else by flora cash is playing when they leave the motel, where they live on the 3rd floor. rumor has it that they have inherited millions from their father’s passing, wonder if that’s why the tattoo artist at thunder bunny tattoo and drummer for vain rogues & the ghost orchestra moved out of their place in salem, massachusetts.
trigger warnings: death mention.
past:
born in seoul, south korea. his parents moved around often, having more money than sense.
he was an only child, growing up but his parents never really took much to do with him, which he didn’t mind. he didn’t really like them.
he’s always been into drums, he got a set when he was eight and has been playing them ever since.
once he hit high school he decided that tattoo’s were cool and that was what he wanted to do.
he met his first love at sixteen, and would have done ( and still would do ) everything and anything for him. he was there and supported him through everything.
they have a son, lincoln, who’s now 13 years old.
he and his ex got divorced after aiden turned 10, but they’re still close and sam loves them both very much. he’s usually with them if he’s not at work.
he enjoys drawing, hence the interest in tattoo’s.
has ended up in salem and has decided he’s gonna stay there.
he’s simply just enjoying life.
personality:
he’s playful and usually flirty depending on how comfortable he is with someone. the more comfortable the more playful he’ll be.
he’s sweet and kind, would do just about anything for anyone.
although he’s calm and he can be really impulsive.
he can be quite shy sometimes when meeting new people, just a trait he’s always carried with him.
he finds himself paranoid when he’s by himself, stupid little thoughts but he doesn’t pay attention to most of them.
he can be VERY dramatic and likes to act even more dramatic than he should.
“I can be a very patient man, but I’m not patient enough to let a needle –” A ghost of a shudder seems to pass through his body. “ – Jab me in the arm a few hundred times over the course of a few hours. No thank you,” The irony of the cigarette between his fingers, which does far more damage to him than any tattoo ever could, is completely lost to Simon. He lights the end, takes a long drag, then offers the lighter back regardless. “Nah, I’ll just stop and grab a new one before I head back home,” He insists. “I need to get a fancy one that lasts longer, but I’m sure as soon as I spend more than five dollars then I’ll wind up misplacing it.”
sam just stares at him, because really he hadn't taken offence, nor did he need an explanation for anybody’s reasoning. "it's not everybody's thing, people don't like 'em. that's fine, i'm not gonna cry about it. so you don't gotta explain." he waves his hand as if in dismissal. he takes the lighter back without much argument. he nods, has many times bought an expensive lighter for it to completely vanish into thin air. “always happens, why i don’t buy expensive ones.” he focuses now more on the cigarette in his hand rather than what’s being said.
“Sorry, I, uh, don’t really know where I’m going,” she says. “Wherever the wind takes me, I guess.” It was a theatrical statement for someone standing atop a bubblegum pink hoverboard. It was her type of humor, although not everyone always found her funny. The toy softly whirrs as she backs it up, its neon LEDs a carnival of moving lights. It’d been pawned by a mother who watched too many early morning news segments and feared the batteries would explode like those from every eight o’clock special. Scout had immediately put it on hold, and the self-balancing scooter was hers by the end of her shift.
“oh you- alright. well, where are you lookin’ to go?” sam almost laughs at the next at the comment but he doesn’t. “or are you just really going wherever the wind takes you?” he asks, a head tilt and a charming smile on his face as he leans back against the wall. he stares at what she’s standing on, raises an eyebrow because he doesn’t think it’s something he’s ever actually seen up close before. though he’s been told by his son that one just HAD to be bought.
A smile lighting up her face when he agreed to help her out with some sketches, Rowan walked through the open door of the shop. “Sounds like a plan!” She didn’t have even the slightest inkling of what kind of tattoo she might want, but she felt the familiar itch to do something, anything, to celebrate her recent successes, even if all she was celebrating was getting her life somewhat in order. “It’s been a while for me, but I might have a place for us to start,” she remarked. Ro and Ammi had floated around the idea of getting matching tattoos, but it was always more of an off-hand possibility than a solid plan. “Do you have any ideas for matching tattoos that aren’t, like, super cheesy?”
he grins and brings her in. "alright, just take a seat over there." he points and he goes to grab a pencil and one of his sketchbooks and he comes to sit down.”good, having a place to start is always good. what do you have in mind?” he asks. his gaze lands on her, as he opens the sketchbook. "matching tattoo's that aren't cheesy, may be a little hard." he's joking, he's more than sure he can FIND something that isn't cheesy. "depends, what things do you like that are similar with the other person?" he asks and he grabs the pencil.
one of Pax’s biggest pet peeves is the fact that there are people out there in the world who know that second hand smoke causes cancer, and they are still out there smoking in front of doors, on sidewalks and in the general public. had he in been in a terrible mood, he might have said something, or probably not, seeing as most of the time Pax’s manners get the better of him. he’s trying to tape his flier to the street lamp in front of the tattoo shop, though it’s more of a three-handed job. “D-do you mind actually helping me tape this up?” in his hands it’s a flier for tutoring sessions he’s offering– “It’ll likely fly away, but…” he digresses.
when his attention is actually on the other, he can see he looks he’s struggling with what he’s doing so he nods. “not at all.” always as polite as he can be, sam moves once he’s gotten rid of the cigarette. pops a piece of gum into his mouth and he takes the flier to tape it up onto the street lamp. “what’s this for, anyhow?” he asks, getting a good look at it before he actually has to LOOK UP at the other man, considering their height difference but he takes a step back. “do you need a hand putting more of them up? because i can grab my jacket and help out.”
the sound of stiletto heels are the first thing to give away her immediate location. jasmine standing in front of the tattoo parlor, dressed in an expressive fur that covers most of her voluptuous frame. she’s been thinking of getting inked as of late, nothing too outrageous. maybe something cutesty like, a four leaf clover on her wrist. a symbolic gesture, an effortless explanation as to how luck has always been on her side. of course, she knows who samuel is. a personable entity like the five foot ten beauty makes it her job to put a face to a name in the town of salem. so when she finally approaches the male with a tap on the shoulder, jasmine is greeted with apologies. “it’s alright, I’ve been known to do the same.” the brunette laughs, running well manicured fingers through her silky, long tresses. “if you don’t mind, sug.” she concludes, voice honeyed and southern drawl apparent.
the sound of the heels, should really have brought him back to reality. but it hasn't, though when he IS back to reality when the tap to his shoulder has alerted him that someone does in fact want his attention. he’s a little more than grateful that she doesn’t find him ignorant or anything, because honestly she wouldn’t be the first person to. “it happens sometimes, should really try and focus when i’m at work.” he laughs. he shakes his head, flicks the end of the cigarette away, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction and then moves to open the door for her. “don’t mind at all.” he says and he holds it open. “anything in particular you’re lookin’ to get done today?” he asks. he moves to go wash his hands and dries them off when he’s done. “or are you just in to have a look?”
While having a night walk after buying some goods from the Lumpy Pumpkin, Andrew passed through the tattoo shop and found a brisk wide ring on the floor. “Hey man, is that yours?” He asked picking it up and moving it close to his eyes to analyze. Looked like it was old as what clearly a mixture of copper and another cheap metal was worn out, oxidized by time. Still, a pretty piece with hand drawn details, he assumed, on a dark stone he couldn’t put his mind to remember the name. Andrew nodded to the guy and showed him. “Don’t worry. I’m not. I just found this ring on the floor, is it yours?”
he’s back in his own world for a second but he does shake his head as if it registers what the man says but when it DOES register and he looks from the man's face to the ring he was holding in his hand and he ACTUALLY looks at his hands to look. but he has and only ever has one ring on so he shakes his head. "nope not mine, but can hand it in and if anybody 'round here for a ring, then i’ll tell them you found it.” he says and he takes another long drag from the cigarette.
Andrea had made an appointment to get a tattoo but had to cancel it due to her unable to get somebody to cover the store while she did. She had wondered if she could do it as a walk in instead and made her way to Thunder Bunny when she noticed somebody standing outside. Not wanting to be rude she let a small cough escape her lips to grab his attention. “Oh no you’re fine, I’ve found myself like that plenty of times. Yeah I was wondering if I was able to get a small tattoo, I had to cancel earlier,work was hectic.”
he smiles, it's nice to have someone who understands that he's not just ignoring them. he nods after he hears her, having to cancel is always a bummer but he’s had a few of those today not that he ever bothers, unless it’s right at the last minute, it can be irritating but he understands people have lives of their own and problems can come up. “well come on in, i have a few open spaces for the rest of the day, so i’m more than fine with taking you in.” he flicks the butt away and he moves to open the door, and he holds it open. always a gentleman. “what are you lookin’ to get?” he asks.
“Go inside? God, no,” Simon shakes his head as if getting a tattoo is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard of. Sure, let other people do whatever they want on their skin. But he would have to be under the influence of alcohol or some sort of heavy drug to make him sit patiently while a needle stabs ink thousands of times into his skin. No thank you. Instead, Simon nods his head to the cigarette between the man’s fingers. “Got a light?” He holds up his cheap red lighter. “I’m all out of juice.”
god no. “fair enough.” he doesn't take offence, knows some might but he gets people have opinions on things, and if he doesn’t like something then he’s all for sticking with your opinion, so he really doesn’t acknowledge him more than that until he hears the question. “sure.” he says. goes into his jeans pocket and pulls it out. “you can keep it, got plenty in there.” he jabs his thumb towards the shop, he buys them constantly, loses them and just repeats it. but he’d been cleaning, and he’d found a good handful of them so it’s not like he’s losing out on anything. he goes back to just focusing on the cigarette and keeping to himself.
ammi had her nose pressed against the glass of the tattoo parlour. she wanted to get a tattoo so badly, but had always ended up chickening out. today wasnt the day she was looking to get inked, but it didn’t hurt to pop by the shop to familiarize herself with it. even though she was a medical professional who dealt with sharps on the daily, the idea of a needle piercing her skin and filling it with permanent ink made her a bit queasy. many of her loved ones had tattoos but they were also a lot braver than she was, and definitely not as impulsive. her biggest fear aside from the needles was picking a design and ending up hating it in a few years. when the man spoke to her, ammi jumped slightly, not having realized he was there. “oh, sorry. i was in mine too.”, she said with a laugh. “this might sound weird, but could i look around inside? i want a tattoo but i’m scared. could you show me the needles and stuff so i know it’s not a big deal?”
he actually realises that she’s PRESSED against the glass and he smiles, she’s almost childlike but he keeps the thought to himself. he doesn’t mean to find it as amusing as he does, fingers of his free hand brushing through his mint coloured hair. “sorry didn’t mean to startle you.” he laughs and he flicks the cigarette butt away and looks back at her. he understands her fear, a lot of people are in the same boat. “of course, come on in.” he says and he pushes the door open and holds it for her. “a lot of people like to take a look at the needles before they get it done.” he assures her. “but depending on what you get, it’ll be over before you know it. some people do have a higher pain tolerance though.” he admits, he’s one of them. he enjoys the feelings, hence why he’s got more than sense. “but since you’re a beginner, we can look at something small?” he asks her.
The only other times that Rowan had been in a tattoo shop were during milestones in her life that felt like a cause for celebration. Her moon tattoo came when she got the news that she would be the valedictorian of her high school class, and the one on her thigh was from when she got her acceptance letter to med school. Though there had been no major milestones of the sort, with the way things had been looking up for her since returning to Salem, the nurse felt an urge to at least consider the possibility. After all, it’s not like she had any solid plans for a new piece yet… so going inside couldn’t hurt. “I was thinking about it, maybe just for a sketch,” she said, letting out a bashful laugh. “I don’t really have any ideas, though.”
he's still happily leaning against the wall, cigarette between his fingers as he watches her and he smiles, takes another drag, nods when he hears her. "well it shouldn't be too hard to come up with a sketch." he flicks the butt away and blows the last puff of smoke out in the opposite direction. "c'mon in and we can have a think." if it’s something sam enjoys doing, it’s sketching. he pushes the door open and holds it for her. “some people just come in randomly and get something done impulsively, me being the prime example.” he has a few that are completely impulsive. he’s fond of tattoo’s what can he say?
he’s standing, back pressed against the wall a lit cigarette in his hand. he’s just finished a big one and had walked them outside, with no other clients to actually see for the day, although he knows people can pull impulsive decisions out of nowhere. he had every intention of going home and spending the night with his son. he’s really just sorting the night out in his head while he smokes, is a little zoned out as he does because it’s all he wants to focus on for now. he doesn’t actually notice that someone’s there or trying to grab his attention until he does and he feels ridiculous but he offers a polite smile. “sorry, in my own little world there. you lookin’ to go inside?” he asks.
It was closing in on the last nice, lukewarm day of autumn before the chill from the seaside permanently embedded its talons in the landscape, and although he would normally sequester himself inside his little abode, the sunshine bearing down on the breathtaking colors had him opting to take his supplies down to the park. He’d laid out on the table the supplies he needed and a sturdy board ( better than the wilting, rain-rotted slats propping the table’s top up ) across the guest area and the packet of air-dry clay sat at its edge, a slab of it laid out in front of him. Atticus preferred sitting at the clay wheel and spinning pottery properly, no matter the type of clay, but constructing ornaments didn’t require the wheel, or the hassle of figuring out how to plug something in without a bandit squirrel gnawing the cord to shreds and possibly frying them both up like Ochi dinner. ( No, he wouldn’t be celebrating Thanksgiving. ) Thick brows stiched together and clay-caked digits fussing over the shape of the would-be holiday ornament, his concentration was frustratingly broken by a shadow intervening the natural rays seeping through the trees in the dragging afternoon — and after several, patient seconds, anticipating that they would pass him by, grey hues swiveled upward and peered through unruly wine-red locks to inspect the intrusion to his personal bubble. “Com licença—” No, wrong language. “Desculpe?” Excusing himself despite the slight prickling that festered, achromatic eyes following them to decipher if he was being observed, “I don’t mind if you were watching, but if you could, perhaps, take a seat… I was relying on the light.” @salemstart
he’s not all that focused on actually doing much today except take a walk and just take in the view and enjoy being by himself for a while but when he spots a familiar face he goes all out to be annoying, as annoying as he can possibly be. he smiles, stands and just does that before he hears him and his head tilts. the smile visibly turns pouts down at him, realises the attention he WANTS isn’t going to be given to him so he simply huffs out a feigned annoyed breath and puts his hands on his hips a touch dramatic with it. "but i am your light, why would you rely on anything else?" he asks. he’s teasing him, eventually mumbles out a half assed apology and he sits in front of him. “what are you doing anyway? what’s it for? and why are you out here?” he asks him, leans forward and puts his hands on his cheeks to sort of hold him up, elbows leaned on his legs. he can still be annoying in other ways, hopes that the other doesn’t ACTUALLY end up annoyed with him.
𝐩𝐚𝐱 𝐦𝐢𝐧 & @salemstart // ANYONE ; AT THE ENGLISH STREET MUSIC SHOP AKA SMALL BUSINESS GUITAR CENTER }}
“Hi, welcome in.” he greets the new customer with a smile as he stands rather awkwardly behind the counter. he was still getting used to life back in Salem– the people, like himself, were generally polite over the past month. Pax Min, the previous record store owner, was onto new ventures– selling musical instruments now that he was back home. though–– most of his clientele were of the younger preteen age– looking for recorders and their first band instruments entering high school. the life of his orchestra days seemed numbered. he still wonders if he’d have taken the middle school music teacher route, would he feel as if he was skating by… talents wasted–
truth be told, he was a bit overly optimistic that his small hometown of Salem could compete with his previous home of six years, Louisiana– the home of jazz and swamp pop. “If you see anything you’d like, let me know– ” he still worries that he is doing too much as a store owner and only manager on duty. he doesn’t particularly like when owners hover––
the building he stood in, just off of main street, was still a work in progress, but the lease was manageable for now. the diner that it used to be was still, to the man’s fear, visible– a ghost of a restaurant beating in the heart of the glass contained musical objects. “My name’s Pax– “ he points to the name tag he’s issued himself to wear. turning towards the back of the store– his sights are on the perfect wall where he’ll be placing a couple of fliers that are informative of musical tutoring he’ll be offering.
"hi, thank you." he gives him a quick nod, and a smile. he’s really only in there to take a look around. needs something to do for the day as he doesn’t have many clients if ANY and most aren’t until later on in the day. he browses by a few things until he hears him again and he turns his head to look at him and he smiles. “i will do.” he’s knowledgeable on musical things, considering he’s a drummer. his attention is brought back to the other again and he smiles, sees him point to the name tag so he politely sticks his hand out to him. “nice to meet you, pax. i’m sam.” he looks around again and then puts his attention back on pax. “this your place or do you just happen to work here?” he asks.
