[right][h3][color=ed1c24][b]Ciaran[/b][/color][/h3]Florence, Italy  ||  Shopping~  ||  Morning-Afternoon || Phil ([@BCTheEntity])[/right][hr]
There was a tune, a rhythm on the roads of Florence that one young man was tapping to as he rapped his fingers on the impressive haul he made - shopping bags, boxes towering on top of each other, all filled with multitudes of brand items, from Gucci, Prada, Valentino, with the list going on. It was quite the surprise that Ciaran could even carry all of these items, let alone be able to watch where he was walking, but in his own peculiar way, he managed it.

Ciarans face looked to be obscured by the befuddling array of clothes and shoes he may or may of not of purchased with some of the funds he was given by the Speedwagon Enterprises, but he didn't let that possible trouble deter him, nor did he let this wall that was as tall as the man he was supervising prevent him from observing not only the new stand user, but the vicinity.

Alas, this all came to an end when Phil interjected, questioning if he had enough clothes, which resulted in Ciaran turning to face the man, his head no longer buried in the copious amounts of clothing as he coyly tipped his head to the side before a small quizzical frown formed, [color=ed1c24]"Do I have enough clothes?"[/color]

He pondered this and from the way his eyes were flickering about, it could almost be mistaken that he was performing quantum physics over how to create a more fuel efficient rocket and looked at different avenues to work from...

[color=ed1c24]"Now [i]dooooo[/i] I?"[/color]

If you completely disregarded the sing-song voice he chirped out as he pursed his lips, before smirking slightly. [color=ed1c24]"I dunno Phil, there are plenty of other stores I want to go to and these bags are reeeeaaaally getting heavy,"[/color] Ciaran pouted, sticking his lip out and looking at the taller man with puppy dog eyes.

In reality, it really didn't burden him much, and the closest burden he would have right now is a financial one. While the Speedwagon Enterprises were paying for his room (and by proxy, Phils), he did have to purchase his own food. He would purchase some fine dining, but alas, even [i]he[/i] had to make sacrifices such as this - designer brands and clothes or luxurious and delicious Italian food? The choice was, sadly, clear from the get go.

[color=ed1c24]"Maybe I could get a [i]big, strong[/i] man to [i]ease[/i] my physical woes, my poor, [i]poooooor[/i] arms can't taaaaaake this anymore,"[/color] he teased, his toothy grin widening as he looked over at the guy and chuckled heartily to himself.

Even with the deceptively ditzy attitude, he still kept on high alert and was keenly aware of the environment around him. Even with his face stuffed in the clothes, he had been noting a couple of the more unassuming landmarks, observing people pass by him, etc. One woman dressed in Prada and a bright red specialty designer jacket with a golden gryphon layer over the red had passed them about 2.8 seconds ago and was now about 2.94 meters away. About 5 meters away, there were two men, gossiping and chattering about differing subjects, one of them mentioning about how their cousin was accosted by some Passione mafioso a few weeks ago into another town and that was just a small portion of it all; he could only thank heuristics as he sifted through the crowds while babysitting Phil.

After all, he needed to be ready to fight at the drop of a hat as his shadow rippled a bit, as if someone cast a pebble into a calm, unperturbed lake, mimicking Ciarans every movements.