<div style="
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color: white;">KELLAN</div></div></div><div style="
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font-size: 12px;"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#76b797">"Fuck this weather,"</span> Kellan huffs under his breath, trying to contain his shivering as he struggles to get old door of his shop <i>Déjà Vu</i> unlocked and opened. Leaving the building abandoned for half the year isn't the best thing for its hinges, but he can't be assed to pay someone to maintain it while he's gone. Maybe he could convince Gale to do it? The guy certainly takes up enough of his time during working hours to account for the favor. He hardly ever buys anything, either, just sifts through everything while regaling Kellan (unasked) with his latest exploits that are usually not meant to be spoken about in a public setting. So, really, he owes him.<br/>
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Finally, he gets the door open, and he retreats from the icy rain into the dusty workplace. The shop is small, only needing enough space to contain him and the knick-knacks he sells, and dimly lit by the few yellow bulbs overheard that sputter to life with the flick of a light switch. He's only just returned from his summer adventures three days ago, the increasing chill driving him back to his home country and to the bustling chaos of Black City as it does every year. He has yet to personally inform anyone of his return except for the Bambergs, a family of jewelers that he works closely with for the sake of appraising the gems he comes across in his travels. This year, he'd managed to come across a particularly striking diamond necklace which he may or may not have swiped off of a socialite's shelf. It's more of a choker than a necklace, the entire thing just long enough to go around the average neck, and composed of 24K gold which pokes out in-between the embedded crystals. In the center is a particularly large diamond, about 4 carats, and worth more than his entire house. Although, given that he lives out of his van behind his shop, that's not saying much.<br/>
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Anyway, they're the only people he's personally informed of his return, but there's no way that they're the only ones who know about it. His usual clientele, perhaps even 'friends,' since he's in a generous mood, always seem to have a knack for sensing his annual arrival. It's almost creepy. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#76b797">"Hello, my darling, did you miss me?"</span> he asks the deserted shop as he strips off his gray plaid scarf and black peacoat. The only answer is the creaking of its walls from the harsh wind. He huffs, flipping on the switch to the 'OPEN' sign in the window so it can beam it's red and blue light onto the cold autumnal streets. Rubbing his freezing hands together, he moves sluggishly to his seat at the counter, flipping on the heater he has set beside it, turning it to its maximum intensity. He feels a deep sympathy for all of his fellow merfolk stuck out in the city's cold near-daily, most of them merchants forced to stand outside in stalls.<br/>
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When he's finally stopped shivering, he whips out his phone, shooting off a quick text to Brenna. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#76b797"><i>I'm back, and I just opened shop. I have a diamond necklace here you might take an interest in.</i></span> Call it favoritism, because it is, but Brenna is one of his richest (and more importantly, frivolous) customers that he has. If anyone is going to buy his newest addition, it would be her. He tucks his phone away, glancing at the necklace in its display case. Right beside it is another necklace — this one much less garish and less valuable in number but much more valuable in sentimentality. It belonged to his friend Albert, the son of the Bamberg family, once upon a time. Through unfortunate circumstances, it eventually ended up in his hands (through honest means, mind you), and has provided him quite the moral dilemma. Should he give it to his friend and miss out on thousands of dollars, or should he make him buy it just as he would anyone else?<br/>
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When Albert had found it, he'd seemed quite set on earning the money to buy it fairly, but his determination has done little to quell the guilt niggling in the back of Kellan's brain. As much as he tries to be cost-effective, his trips around the world aren't exactly cheap, and this shop is his only real method of earning cash for the year. Unfortunately, antique stores aren't as popular as they once were, and a bad season can put the rest of his year in jeopardy. He needs every cent he can get. He already pays his family for their services, too, so does he owe him more? Ugh, maybe he's just a shitty person.<br/>
</div><div style="
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text-align: center;">「 <a class="username" data-user-id="9084" data-username="MaryGold" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9084/">MaryGold</a> 」</div><div style="
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color: black;"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="DÉJÀ VU">LOCATION</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="BRENNA {TEXT}">INTERACTIONS</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="GALE | ALBERT">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>