The sun was high above the city of Blairville, the city of wonders, when a teenage boy ran out the door of his small home and through the streets. Wind blew through his short, messy, black hair as he sprinted with a panic evident in his brown eyes. Weaving in and out of crowds as he came upon them with a plethora of apologies, he was clearly in something of a hurry, wherever it was he was going. Of course, being in such a rush can cause one to forget their surroundings and as he was crossing the street, he was nearly run down by a passing carriage, prompting another hasty apology before he was back to his sprint. Finally, he arrived at the destination towards which he was in such a mad dash, panting heavily, sweating profusely, and quickly adjusting his tan shirt and black pants which had become somewhat disheveled along the way. After catching his breath, the young, six foot tall, man looked up at the building he had arrived at, almost as if to check if he had gotten the right place. Sure enough, the sign on the small shop read Blairville Antiques, leaving no doubt that this was his place of employment.
"You're late again, Max!" Came the upset, but clearly feminine voice of the clerk and daughter of the shops owner as the target of her fury came through the door, almost before the small bell attached could even ring. After giving a slight wince, Max looked to his equally young assailant. She had blue eyes and brown hair, which she kept in a ponytail, was about half a foot shorter than him, and wore a white shirt along with a knee length black skirt. "What?" she asked with a puzzled expression, causing a flair of red to dance across Max's face before he looked away out of embarrassment. "Uh, nothing, um...I should get to work right?" Before she could answer, the boy shuffled off to his duties in the shop's storage room, sighing at his own cowardice.