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Of his Story: Not many know the past of the man Inri, for those other residents of the city are either too broken--be it physical or mental or otherwise--to want to know. But as long as any of them could remember, he was always working there, at the store, a pleasant smile teasing at the corners of his lips.

There are rumours, though, and they float as easily as feathers on a warm breeze. Some say he fled the uncomfortable life of rich and staunchy parents to get in touch with the common man, while other say he was taken in by the first owner of the store. Still others say that he is not of any world known to man, upper or lower or anything in between, but that the pointed ears are a sign of a race spoken only in words from paper and pen. Words like those the man surrounds himself with, a wistful air seen only deep within those depthless eyes.

Who he is: Quiet but confident, Inri is a man who is comfortable with who, or what, he is. He is rarely the first to answer a call for help, but if he sees that no other is on their way, then it is without a doubt that he will do what he can. For he is not unfriendly, but not the most comfortable with words, either. It is is body that speaks for him, with it's constant motions and telltale signs.