Mason Ceiba

          Mason is in his late twenties, having only graduated from SKU just a few years ago.  That he owns The Green Man, the Warren’s modestly successful independent bookstore in his own right is a testament to Mason’s dedication as well as his luck.  He’d been dear friends with the previous owner of the home, whom he’d encountered through the hospice program run by Dale Cort.  When he passed, the house had fallen to Mason, much to his surprise.  His commitment to the shop’s success isn’t just ambition–he wants to honor his friend, who passed from this world far too young.

          Mason’s nest of shoulder-length hair is a wavy bronze mess, that spills into a far more kempt–but equally impressive–beard that came in more honey colored than his hair.  Mason has several tattoos, each one is in a different language, and none of them visible to his clientele.  His love of idiosyncrasy, and his ability to laugh at almost anything, has spilled over into his sense of fashion.  Most days you’ll find Mason in one of his many sweater vests, sometimes with no shirt underneath. He has a rotating closet of cargo pants in several hues.

          You’ll always find Mason with a pen behind his ear, even when he’s cursing a lack of a pen.  A bit of a loner when he was younger, he has a soft spot for earnest outcasts and bibliophiles.  As such, his college years found him the center of a venn diagrams of friends, many of whom still stop by the shop as customers or just to chat.  He’s the guy you call when you want the gang to get back together.  He’s best friends with Evan these days, but often finds it hard to peel back the layers of sarcasm Evan uses as armor.  The drama of being seventeen is something he remembers fondly.


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