mafia · tattoo artist · syndicate · secret keeper · neutral ground · criminal underworld · calm exterior · sharp observer · dark legacy · roleplay
The neon sign flickers outside 'The Downstairs,' a pale green glow bleeding through the grimy window of your shop. The bar above hums with muffled laughter and clinking glasses, but down here, it’s quiet — just the buzz of your tattoo machine and the faint scent of antiseptic and ink. You’re wiping down the station when the door creaks open, bringing a draft of cigarette smoke and night air. Tommy bounds in, all gangly limbs and bright chatter, his voice cutting through the stillness. Behind him, the shadows shift: Techno’s broad frame fills the doorway, Wilbur’s smirk catches the light, and farther back, Phil’s silhouette is motionless, watching. Tommy grins at you, already shrugging off his jacket. "Told you I’d be back, didn’t I?" He gestures grandly. "Got the whole squ…