Where Anyone is Possible
Alastar’s Apothecary is just like any normal apothecary, supplying medicines and things to those in need. However, it has it’s own little secret - it’s run by two witches.
Location: Victorian Era - London
Latest Activity: Oct 9
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X. Adrienne's present childlike demeanour persisted at in her delight at the feline presence, and again at the appearance of the dark, handsome woman from above-- before her attention was recalled to the Margaret in her attempt at French. A demure giggle escaped her as she grinned bashfully, surprised and again delighted. Words escaped her mouth like bubbles leaving champagne: "Eh oui madame, je m'appelle Adrienne et je suis bien enchantée vous rencontrer, et votre chat aussi."
She completed her sentence politely, but slowed down a little as she realised she must be getting difficult to understand. "But it is really quite a beau pays of yours, and a quaint beautiful place you have here. Might I know your name, as well?" her accents were cultured, though her constructions suffered a little from influence of other tongues floating around in her mind-- behind all the white garments and soft giggles, the young lady was really quite sharp. But, as it were, amicable. .X
The shop owner nodded to the man as he entered.
"Good day sir."
She said before focusing her attention back to the Adrienne; her sister could take care of this man in wolf's clothing. Margaret gently dabbed the wet cloth along the young lady's brow.
"It is far alright, the weather in the city is not as welcoming as the people it seems."
She smiled kindly to the woman. Her smile faded slightly as she stole a glance up to Autumn.
"I thought you were going to find a home for that animal, dear?"
Although Margaret appreciated the cat's talent as an exterminator she was not pleased with it's living in their home. It had tried to eat her birds the other day. She had seen it eying her two defenseless doves with hunger.
"At the very least you were going to keep it from running amuck down here?"
Maybe now wasn't the time for this conversation but Margaret thought it would be easier to deal with her darling sister if there were witnesses around. Her turned her gaze back to the ill young lady.
"You are French? Err, how did it go again? Comment vous appelez-vous?"
She was rubbish at French, really any language other than English or Latin. She pronounced every consonant and her accent was incredibly laughable. She tried though.
X. Adrienne had a moment to register the woman's gesture before noticing the wolf, at which she coughed in surprise before nodding in dismissal. She redirected her attention towards the pretty young woman. In fact, this direct confrontation with medical treatment caught her unawares. Ill enough to be convinced to come to the apothecary, she hadn't yet really considered her own state--an inattention quite typical of her. So she smiled, crinkling her mouth as her eyebrows moved slightly to frame her large, innocent eyes, and amiably took a seat as directed.
Ah, how much more clearly her illness was visible in the eyes of a stranger! Of course, she wasn't so afflicted as to succumb, but she nodded to the first inquiry. It was about time to accept treatment.
Intrigued by the woman's round, dark eyes, Adrienne considered what might constitute an amicable social inquiry. She opted to be still a moment, and take cues as they were offered. Instead, she offered a bit of explanation. "I must excuse myself, mademoiselle, but I seem to be somewhat affected by the weather, as they say. Mais, it is no grande chose," she offered. .X
The front would open once again. Revealing a 6'5' tall male wearing heavly enchanted steel wolf armor. that was carefully crafted to look like wolf when both standing and moving. Follwed by his entire face and head coveed in a metalic wolf mask, before connecting to the armor to leave not open areas or anyy clue as to what he looked like under it.
His ever glowing blue eyes flash gently to give him a better veiw of what was wround this shop.
Margaret spun around at the sound of the door creaking open. With an audible gasp she rushed over to the young woman, a wooden stool in tow.
"My poor dear, please sit down. Are you well?"
It was a silly question but Margaret felt compelled to ask. Clearly this woman was not 'well' as anyone with eyes could see. Margaret picked a cloth from the closet and wet it before drawing closer to the woman.
She asked, motioning the cloth toward the woman's face. Miss Alastar wasn't going to be rude, she was a moderately respectable lady of course!
Now, Margaret was no doctor (no woman was at this day and age) but she had spent time in hospitals before. When she had delivered medicines or was checking up on some of their customers. She knew that fevers, if not controlled, could be treacherous. That's what the cloth was for, to rid this woman of her sweats. As for the cough, she was still thinking. It would depend on what was wrong with the lady. Most likely she would make a tea with herbs the question was which ones.
X. Fighting a cough, Adrienne wiped some sweat from her forehead and forced open the door. Travelling had never disagreed with her like this... She wondered whether she ought to blame the rotten English air or some mistake of her own. Dusting herself off, she looked around tentatively. .X
The shop had been closed for a few weeks now. Margaret was to blame. She heard of riots going on a few towns over, looking for witches or any persons who delt with them. She prayed their customers understood her worry, even though Autumn did not approve of her actions. During that time Margaret had stayed clear of magic, not even dealing with small things like cleaning spells. She lived as a normal human would. She hated that word, 'normal' but she embraced it for the time being. She was scared, and rightfully so. She imagined that burning at the stake or hanging were even less desirable than they sounded.
Now that the riots and searches had settled down it was time to open back up. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining onto the London streets. The young woman took a breath as she propped the door open, trying to air out the small apothecary. She turned the sign in the window from closed to open with a confident nod. Today would be good. There was no rain in the forecast, it wasn't going to be ungodly hot either. If there was ever a perfect day to re-open today was it.
"Autumn, I expect at least three customers today!"
She declared to the empty room. Margaret wasn't exactly sure where the other Alastar was, but she figured the woman wouldn't be beyond hearing distance.
Three customers, that's all Margaret wanted from today. Three customers, whether it be prescriptions that needed filled or herbs bought, three customers would get Margaret to tomorrow. The cobblestone streets were not alive yet however, it still being fairly early in the day, so Margaret went to dusting off the counter tops around the shop.
"Three customers and today will be good."
She muttered to herself as she cleaned.
Caelem hums lightly, nodding at her words. "I suppose you're correct. Now... I must go. Have a good day, and may the winds of change favor you." He smiles at her as he turns to leave, the box of paid for ingredients in his hand. He exits the door calmly, smiling like the cat that got the cream.
"No, no. I'm the one who should be thanking you. You've given me the means to help my nephew. That means a lot to me. Thank you." He himself couldn't help a chuckle.
"Ah. Thank you for all of your help." He pulls his wallet out and searches through it, perusing through his many, many forms of currency before selecting one and humming. He pulls out the required twenty pounds, extending it to her with a smile. "Here you are, twenty pounds."
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