<div style="
margin: auto;
height: 600px;
max-width: 500px;
background-color: #232323;
box-shadow: 0 0 2px 2px grey, 0 0 2px 2px grey, 0 0 2px 2px grey;
color: white;"><div style="
/*GIF*/
height: 110px;
max-width: 100%;
box-shadow: 0px 2px 2px #CD6155;
background: url(https://data.whicdn.com/images/338303383/original.gif);
background-size: cover;
background-position: 50% 34%;
font-size: 0px;">hh<div style="
/*IMAGE*/
margin: auto;
height: 130px;
max-width: 130px;
border-radius: 100%;
margin-top: 40px;
box-shadow: 0 0 5px 5px #CD6155, 0 0 5px 5px #CD6155, 0 0 5px 5px #CD6155;
background-image: url(https://i.imgur.com/Q1HYHon.png);
background-size: 150px;
background-position: center;
font-size: 0px;">hh<div style="
/*NAME*/
height: 50px;
max-width: 100%;
margin: auto;
margin-top: 120px;
margin-left: 9px;
font-size: 20px;
letter-spacing: 10px;
text-align: center;
text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black;
color: white;">CIAN</div></div></div><div style="
/*TEXT BOX*/
margin: auto;
margin-top: 80px;
height: 350px;
max-width: 90%;
padding: 5px;
overflow: auto;
font-family: Book Antiqua;
font-size: 12px;">Shit, if he had rubbed his eyes just now he would have absolutely <i>ruined</i> his eye makeup. He would have screamed. So, yeah. He's bored. Transcendentally bored. How do you manage to be bored in a shop full of magical items, Cian, you might be wondering. Probably because he has worked here for some 10 years now. He knows every crystal down to its  mineral composition and every spell book down to its author's notes. Sometimes they get new things in, but it doesn't take him long to understand every possible use of an item once it gets into his hands. He's always been a bit hyperfocused when it comes to studying magic and other magic-related fair.<br/>
<br/>
Usually, he'd be entertaining himself with whatever customers happen to be in the store, but currently, there's no one here. It seems most people have been trying to avoid the off-and-on rain, and the fact that it's prime dinner time doesn't help matters. Then again, he can never really be sure what to expect. Customer influx is almost entirely unpredictable for a shop like this — there are so many magi in the world, practicing so many different crafts, after all. A flock of light magi might burst in during the morning or early afternoon when the sun is at its brightest and their magic at its peak, a school of water magi might trickle in to take advantage of the rain, a murder of dark magi might come when the sun is beginning to set. Then there's the matter of work and class schedules. In a city as busy as this, it's near impossible to keep track of lull times.<br/>
<br/>
But here one is, and here he is, leaned back in his cushy chair behind the counter with his legs propped up on the polished glass housing various sweets and other small trinkets, watching the raindrops grow heavy and eventually fall down the shop windows. Why they even have such a wide selection of candy in such a store is beyond him — his boss had mentioned it being a method of keeping customers returning, but they don't exactly sell out of the stuff. Nobody comes here for candy.<br/>
<br/>
Which means that there's plenty left for him to steal. Which he does. Quite often. Exhibit A: the sucker in his mouth. Blue raspberry. Because he's not a heathen. He's already checked his phone a million times in the last hour, and he's doubtful anyone has gotten up to anything exceptionally interesting since then. Most of it is party information. Halloween is right around the corner, after all, and then Magis Moore will follow shortly after. <i>What's your costume this year?</i> seems to be one of the most pertinent questions now. He's had his own planned for quite some time. What, you think a spirit magi isn't going to prepare for <i>Halloween</i> ahead of time? Unfortunately, he's getting up in years now, so his options are more limited than they were when he was younger. It would be a bit embarrassing walking around in those elaborate costumes of his younger years and the skimpy costumes of his 20s, so he'd gone for a simple scarecrow costume.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, perhaps he should put on some music?<br/>
<br/>
Before he can select a song from his phone, there's that familiar tinkle of the door's bell, and he glances up to see an elderly woman shuffling her way into the shop. Not their usual demographic, but he's seen so many oddities that nothing really surprises him anymore. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cd6155">"Good afternoon,"</span> he smiles around his sucker, removing his legs from the counter to look a little more formal. The woman says nothing. Just shuffles her slow ass through the aisles. Alright, bitch, be that way.<br/>
<br/>
Jeez, she moves at a snail's pace. This is going to take a while. He tosses the now empty stick of his sucker into the nearby trashcan.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cd6155"><i class="fa fa-ghost faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-ghost faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-ghost faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-ghost faa-pulse"></i></span>​</div><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cd6155">"I'm sorry, ma'am, we're out of peridot crystals."</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#f08478">"Can't you check in the back?"</span><br/>
<br/>
It takes a great deal of self-restraint to keep from rolling his eyes. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cd6155">"I can assure you it would be a waste, I keep close tabs on our inventory,"</span> he replies coolly, grin still fixed firmly in place. Hopefully, it feels mocking.<br/>
<br/>
The woman huffs, and he's surprised dust doesn't puff out with the air. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#f08478">"Where is your manager?"</span> With the exaggerated flair of a waiter unveiling a dish at one of those fancy restaurants where the napkins are folded like animals, he gestures to his nametag that is proudly emblazoned with 'MANAGER.' The old bat squints, clearly taking in the word for the first time. Then she grunts indignantly as if she couldn't easily find the damn rocks elsewhere. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#f08478">"This is ridiculous!"</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cd6155">"I'll double check for you,"</span> he decides, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#cd6155">"But don't count on anything."</span><br/>
<br/>
He heads to the back room and proceeds to stand there in the center, doing absolutely fuck all. Of course, he's not checking the boxes. He's already well aware of what he'll find. They don't have any damn peridot. He taps his manicured nails against one of the emptier shelves as if typing on a keyboard, enjoying the clicking noise that reverberates throughout the space. After a few minutes, he heads back out to the counter, affirming that they indeed have no more peridot crystals. The old crone accepts defeat with a little grace at least and leaves after purchasing some sage.<br/>
<br/>
Well, but now he's back to being bored. Jeez, at this point he might even welcome Simon and the other little shits who love to vandalize the place. Okay, they're not actually <i>that</i> bad. Yes, on occasion they bring in a stray who likes to steal a couple of things, but on the whole, they're pretty harmless. He's not even sure why they hang out here so much — Simon is too poor to buy anything most of the time, and Spencer usually just comes along for emotional support or something. It seems that for some reason, he was elected as one of them, and now he can't seem to shake the little fleas off. In full honesty, though, he does like them. They're like the younger siblings he never had.<br/>
<br/>
Simon, though. Well. Simon is a whole other matter. Cian isn't blind, nor is he inexperienced (no, certainly not that!) — he knows when someone is infatuated with him. He can't pinpoint when exactly it happened, but it's been some years since Simon became more touchy with him, and now he's not afraid to cling to him entirely. There's also the looks he gives to the people that Cian flirts with (for the sake of sales... mostly) that speak of nothing but bitterness. It's... sweet, really. He can't say he minds it. Simon is adorable. He's a little irresponsible, but his positive attitude is something to behold. His loyalty is admirable, and, well. He's pretty easy on the eyes.<br/>
<br/>
And that's exactly why Cian can't do anything about the situation. Simon is <i>too</i> sweet. Too kind. Cian can't just bang him and drop him like everybody else. He can't break the kid's heart like that. So he doesn't comment on it, turns his head when Simon's mismatched eyes look at him with too much affection, pretends to be oblivious to any romantic gestures. Simon's young and hot-blooded — he'll find someone else soon enough. Hopefully.<br/>
<br/>
Now he just has to get through the last few hours of his shift.</div><div style="
/*TAGS*/
height: 20px;
max-width: 100%;
margin-top: 15px;
font-size: 12px;
text-align: center;">「 N/A 」</div><div style="
/*BOTTOM*/
margin: auto;
margin-top: 10px;
height: 15px;
max-width: 100%;
background: #CD6155;
text-align: center;
line-height: 13px;
font-size: 10px;"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="THE MIRAGE • BLACK CITY">LOCATION</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="N/A">INTERACTIONS</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="SIMON | SPENCER">MENTIONS</abbr></div></div><div style=" margin: auto; margin-top: 5px; height: 10px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; font-size: 8px;">Code by Jenamos</div>