Shine Masateru<br/>Time; June 5th, 2018.  Monday, afternoon<br/>Location; Central Shopping District, "Threads of Fate"<br/>Tagged; nobody<br/><br/>The outside of the seer's shop, as some called it, was simple. A small sign had three figures on it, apparently working on making clothes. Those familiar with Greek mythology might actually recognize these women as Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, and this would surely also explain the interesting name of the store.<br/><br/>The windows were tinted darkly, so that one could hardly see inside, while on the interior, one could actually see quite well outside. The interior was moderately lit, everything being bathed in a pale golden glow from the colored lanterns that were carefully placed. Their was no real direct light; it was all ambient lighting.<br/><br/>A long, red carpet led the way up to a raised platform in the back of the store, where a large table held a crystal ball in the center. Off to the side, one may see tarot cards, and a small, red flannel pouch that seems like it contains a number of stones or perhaps beads or marbles.<br/><br/>Behind the table sat the man in a black, crushed velvet suit; not something that he felt particularly comfortable in, but it seemed to work for the job. It had golden yellow trim and accents here and there.  An eye patch fully covered his left eye, while his one good eye focused on the door to his establishment.<br/><br/>Along the way up to the platform, their were glass display cases. These were full of numerous methods and means of divination, and even little placards that explained what they were and how they were used.<br/><br/>When one entered the store, they were not just greeted with these strange sights; their was also the smell of incense. Dragon's blood incense, today. It was not annoyingly pungent, just lightly there.  In the distance, their was the sound of running water, like a quiet little stream happily burbling. Their was also a constant flow of air, as if from a fan, but a look around the place revealed no such device.<br/><br/>The man waited, quietly. His store would be open for another three hours. It was quiet now, but he knew about a dozen or so more people would find their way in before he closed up. So for now, he sits upon his chair--more of a comfortable, plush throne, really-- and waits, patiently, quietly thinking upon that damned dream.<br/><br/>One dream, in all his life, that's ever stuck with him. One dream that he can actually recall. Why? What was the meaning? What was the purpose? Who were the others that were in it? Mere figments of his imagination? Shadows of his own self? It's been nearly a year now... and no matter what he's tried, his spirit guide, his mentor of sorts, had nothing to say; nothing of substance, at least. She remained aloof on it, citing that it was not her place to explain that particular vision, but always assuring him she'd be there when he needed her.