Eric answered her as he wrapped the ice in a damp washcloth and stepped towards her. "Yeah babe, I slept lots of worse places. Chair will be fine. But first let's get this on ya face. Gotta bring the swelling down or ya gonna bruise like a peach." He exclaimed while he handed her the ice wrapped rag then opened his beer and sat in the chair. Moments before she spoke he picked up a thick book titled. 'On killing'. But when she asked her question he set the book in his lap and looked up to her. "It's a challenge." He explained. I had lots of people threaten to do it so I figured I'd least tattoo where they need to do it. I'd hate for em to get it wrong."<br/><br/>It was telling, that he'd actually tattoo an open invitation like that on his throat. But many of the tattoos were telling of the life he'd lived. Some were ornate skulls others what looked to be demons, and what seemed to be an angel with a sword on his upper right arm. To someone that looked deep enough they all had meaning, at least to him. Even the lettering in Latin along his forearms in between the skulls and demons.