Bittersweet Beginnings & Brewed Awakenings

Lips pursed, a finger rubbing at her chin, Frankie studied the blonde with the focus of someone trying to solve a very stupid mystery. "Are you guys fucking, or is this some kind of rebound thing for him? You know he’s, like, obsessed with his ex, who’s totally moved on, by the way — for, what, a century or something?" In her opinion, Juniper could do so much better. But here the vampire was, bearing witness to a roommates-to-lovers romance.

Frankie set the doughnuts on the kitchen table and took a slow look around, like she was touring a museum. A witch’s house — how fascinating. She remembered how everything in AJ’s penthouse had some weird smell, and an odd neon glow, all poisonous and gooey.

"I’d love a Negroni, thanks, babes." Stilettos clicked across the floor. "No, that’s okay — I’ll catch up with him another time. Now that you’re here, we can get to know each other a little better." There was a devilish smile on her red lips, the kind nobody knew if they should trust. Behind that friendly glow was a predator whose hunger could never be quenched.

She relaxes when Frankie starts to wander. There is plenty for her to look at, so it gives Juniper a moment to breathe. Sighing as she pressed her warm face into Sage's fur before putting the critter down. Letting her scamper behind the new guest. Following Frankie around curiously as Juniper makes her way to the Alcohol cabinet. 

She was making doubles. Frankie had a lot of energy and Juniper would need to keep up. “ I don’t know if I should be worried or not.” She joked- only slightly. Cocktails with a vampire in her pajamas wasn’t exactly how she planned her evening. But she was given little choice. Frankie was more intimidating than Garrick. She really did not want to get on her bad side.  

"There is no need to apologize, the girl who works days loves to do this kind of thing. An excitable little witch, leans towards a gift with the earth." She fondly recants of Allie. Such a silly little witch with nothing but love in her heart and brambles in her soul. She takes the mortar, looking over it for a moment before clicking her tongue.

"This one won't do, it's one of our ones more so for people who think this is a silly little tourist trap. Way too porous,, you'll lose half your ingredients." Standing the vampire wanders the aisles a moment before humming in acceptance and coming over with a different one.

He’d gone off the deep end now with his head somewhere else, he was making a mess out of decent folks mornings, like Juniper who didn’t deserve to start her day cleaning up after him. When she came back to the counter, he pulled himself upright and gave her his best smile; all kindness and charm. "What kind of cowboy would I be if I didn’t cause a little trouble in town, huh?" His eyes softened, honey warm despite the fatigue. "But that one’s on me, Juniper. I’ve not been myself lately." He fished a twenty out of his pocket, smoothed the worn bill between his fingers, and slid it across the counter. "So, please, accept this before I knock over anything else."

While she rang him up, Colt wilted a little, hands tucked into his jeans pockets. Eyes finding the chalkboard menu above her blonde head, pretending like he might order something new, though they both knew better. Juniper gave him that look — 'please do not say plain black coffee.'

He grinned, and asked: "What, you and plain black coffee had a fight or something? He told me he’s been feeling left out. Says folks like all those whipped cream, vanilla gal types, and now he’s jealous." A lopsided, silly joke. He watched her mouth for the faintest twitch of a smile. "So, guess I’ll have to order the sad, jealous, plain black coffee."

She knew better. After a while you could often guess a person's order by sizing them up. And everything about Colt screamed plain black coffee. As upsetting as it was, she knew better. It was still amusing to watch him look at the menu. Entertain the idea of something else for less than a moment and then turn back. Not a very adventurous cowboy after all. 

“You will not find shared affection here. I can’t stand coffee. But at least most people have the decency to try and hide the flavor.” Laughing and rolling her eyes before turning around to make his drink. Motioning him around to the side of the counter to free up the register. “You are lucky I take pride in my work. Might not be my thing- but I’ll be damned if we serve drip-coffee-sludge.” It took time to brew each cup by hand. But it was the detail she felt made the biggest difference.  

The question makes her grin. “Well… I’m partial to West Side Story, but that’s not til spring. Honestly, I'm excited for them all... I guess The Importance of Being Earnest is kind of like my brainchild, since that's kicking off our civic theatre program I've been championing. I'd be lying if I said I loved every show the same, but I think they all fit well into the season, and they're all good shows! The one we just opened is a lot of fun, too, it's a musical that lets the audience vote on the ending..."

(Oh my god, you're talking too much.)

Sybella blinks. "Sorry! Wow, got carried away. Just call the theatre and ask for me when there's something you want to see."

“I will be sure to do that. Sybella right? And likewise. Brewed Awakening is very much a business dedicated to supporting local artists. Feel free to reach out at any time and I’m sure we could figure something out.” She couldn’t help the smile on her face. She could stand here and talk all afternoon probably. But she knew better. There was a lull in the flow of customers at the moment and she was taking advantage of that. 

Slowly she began to move then towards the line so she could actually order. “It was lovely meeting you Sybella. I hope to see you around the neighborhood some more.” And she meant it. It felt nice building rapport with people beyond her coven.

Ren takes the cup and feels the warmth of it soak into their hands, and offers a smile - a grateful one - to Juniper. "Thanks," she says. "Thanks a lot, really."

Moving to drink, they stop for a second, acknowledging the warning. Taking a small, tentative sip, their face lights up a bit, "Oh, wow, that's great!" Something about it makes them think of Freehold. Creates nostalgia somehow.

There's a beat in the conversation then, and Ren nods, looking at the cup, at the cafe, and then finally, back at Juniper. "I uhm, I'll get back to you in a couple days then? With like, with like a mockup?"

She leaned onto a pillar for a moment, crossing her arms and nodding with a grin. “Sounds good to me. Oh I’m so excited. You really just made my day by coming in y’know? That wall has been bothering me so much.” She needed to keep herself from getting too riled. “A mockup will be great. Here…” She took out one of the cafe business cards and wrote her number on the back. “You can get a hold of me at either this number or the cafe's email on the back. I look forward to working with you.” 

She followed them to the door and waved them off. Feeling good about the interaction. Following their socials immediately, partly to look at their art, but also to just offer some silent support. She knew what numbers like that could do for a business; it was only fair to return the favor.

April… wow, time had flown. It felt like the year had just started, but somehow they were in the back half of the year already. (He’d been here too long — he never stayed this long anywhere, not if he had a choice.)

She was sure Finlay was no different, though he didn’t immediately strike her as dangerous. He was courteous to witches. Had a better understanding of the symbiotic relationship hunters share with them. It made it easier to be more realistic with conversation. “I wouldn’t call it uncharitable. I’ve met Fellowship that are lovely. But I would be lying if I said they were the majority. Plus I’ve only met them since moving here.” 

She can’t help but laugh at his hesitation. “I’m really liking Port Leiry. But I do know it’s an acquired taste. In all honesty it isn’t all that different from my hometown. Just bigger, more to do.” More complicated politics. But that wasn’t her cross to bear right now. And she didn’t need to tell Finlay something he was already well aware of. The Gala had been enough of a clusterfuck for everyone.  

"It's strange asking this here, but you're making sure not to drown yourself in work, right? Work life balance is important in any profession." She couldn't help herself.

His hand holds the towel on his waist when he reaches into the dryer for sweats. Damp hair dripping water, and footsteps that leave a trail from the bedroom to the kitchen. Juniper's focused on the mirror, lining eyes, and powdering her face an' whatnot.

He thinks Juniper forgets that his definition of youth ain't the same as hers.

But he's heard about the rave, 'cause Garrick's spent enough time at the docks. Not for the boats, or the wolves. The ocean don't get escape him when he needs a change of scenery. They always orbit around each other, in every stop he makes.

Last time he thinks he saw Juniper cutting a rug (at least, with an audience), was at the gala — and they'd been careful of her injury. Garrick's noticed she don't use her cane as much anymore. That the limps faded, and her knees gotten workin' again.

Garrick steps around to the other side of the kitchen counter and drops his towel. Mostly so he ain't just dropping clothes in her face. Then, he steps into the sweats. The rave don't sound so pure and effervescent to him. And a light laugh says as much, "You's gonna be alright down there?" He don't mean it to sound patronising, as much as it's an edge of concern. "I means, we ain't got the track record for best behaved in places like that, ay?" Not just the we, of the dead. But, them; supernaturals, packed in a place where there's magic and power forever trying to climb the blasted towers he's always wantin' to topple.

Turning her head to say as much was a mistake- again, and she quickly returned her gaze forward and to herself, choosing to just shut up instead. Garricks lack of modesty was something she would never get used to. At this point it was nearly a reflex to look directly at the floor or ceiling when passing his room. She at least tried to alternate so her neck wouldn’t get sore. She tried not to make it his problem. 

She assumed it was a vampire thing, so much time spent alive that you couldn’t be bothered by things like self-embarrassment or conservatism. Must be nice.  

She finished her makeup just in time for the other to make himself decent. Rolling her eyes when he laughs. She’s prepared to be stubborn, a prickle of self righteousness running down her spine before she realizes he isn’t making a jab. It’s a genuine concern, which is almost worse. She’s bad at dealing with genuine. The wind out of her sails, she sighs with a smile. “ It’ll be fine- I’ll be fine. Honestly sometimes I think you forget I’m not human.” 

Free now to roam, she made her way into the bathroom to retrieve her perfume. Coming back into the living room as she dabbed the scented oil onto her neck and wrists. “Besides. It’s Halloween, if there is one day out of the year we can misbehave, it’s Halloween. I just want a little excitement. We both know you will probably be out later than me anyways.” She crosses her arms. Leaning on the back of an armchair.

She could be realistic, her night was probably going to end with take-out, alone, on her own couch by 2 am. Going into it with that energy was boring though. She at least had to pretend to entertain the idea of something more exciting. “I’ll have my cane with me. That should be plenty of protection. And there’s going to be a bunch of people I know there as well. You should come too. At least check it out, werewolves throw really good parties. I can handle the cover charge.”    

Orville was happy to spend an evening hanging off Jaya’s elbow — it was delightful enough they agreed to do a costume with him, and he truly enjoyed every moment he could spend with the witch. Besides that… incident earlier, he’d been careful not to stray too far from them, but that didn’t mean they were spending the whole night at each other’s side. They were here as friends, not partners, after all.

He hung on the edge of the group all currently conversing amongst themselves — none that Orville knew well enough to step in, and too many of them talking to feel comfortable adding to the mix. He glanced around, spotting Jaya out of the corner of his eye, and turned to step closer to them again.

He asks if they are familiar and she needs to take a moment to look at the man properly. Taking in his features and posture, the air around him. Since he had mentioned it. “I’m not sure, but I do think I’ve seen you before… You’re Jayas friend. The one he came with tonight.” But that couldn’t be the only place she had seen him. 

        she means it that tinkerbelle’s eyes are beautiful, but allie struggles to not get lost in the forest of them. then, she gives up, completely, happily swallowed up. when she blinks, tinkerbelle’s eyes go from a sweet summer green to deep in the forest. nostalgia weaves it’s way in with her simple admiration of beauty, and, now, she’s dreaming about a forest she can’t remember. trees adorned with flowers that are nowhere near their little cottage. she doesn’t recognize them, nor the tiny, sweet voices giggling, holding secrets bundled to their chest in the shape of wildflowers. stomping through rivers, looking for frogs- that allie kissed, but never hoping they’d change. petal adorned crowns and pinkie promises.

        but- it’s strange, there are two blonde little girls in her rave-dreams. one paler than the other, who’s just a teeny, tiny bit smaller. allie had spent her childhood alone, save from her mother- well, it wasn’t very nice to say alone, then, is it? because there had been a woman there, barely older than allie is now, trying her very best to take care of a whiny, needy little girl named valentine. but, anyways, there hadn’t been any other kids- ever.

        tinkerbelle’s definitely magical to make her dream of impossible things like that, allie’s breathing in her enchantment from just standing near. in the same way that tinkerbelle stutters, it takes allie too long for her cloudy head to catch up to what she’s saying, the curiosity changing back to the beautiful butterfly of glee.  “ it was, like, so much fun! i could totally do yours- but, i mean, the fairy stuff suits you, you’re not much of a deer, to me. ”  maybe just pixie glitter and various spots of green to highlight her eyes-  “ oh, wait! ”  allie pats the pocket of her furry mini skirt, finding a little compact of sparkle.  “ look! you want some? ”  it’s not the most exciting thing, only highlighter, but she happens to think the silver glitter looks beautiful on any one, especially a tinkerbelle without her pixie dust. and, well, even if she had, glitter’s the kind of thing you can never get enough of. 

At first, she blames the sensation on the magic lingering in the air and smiles anyways. Nodding in excitement when glitter is offered. She tried not to think about the strange churning in her chest. Instead offering her face to the other girl. “Absolutely! Kind of hard to overdo it with the shine with this costume. And I can’t help but agree with you. I don’t think a deer suits me either. You pull it off fantastic though.” She should not be trusting a stranger at a rave with powder near her face. But they wouldn’t hurt Juniper. She didn’t know how she knew that though. She was confident. 

She didn’t think twice about holding back Bambis hair. Immediately stepping up to the shots with her and bundling the hair carefully in her hands, not wanting to disrupt the curls. Suddenly her hands were smaller, holding back a familiar entanglement of blonde. Ginger and citrus, it’s soothing. The little girl is sick, Juniper is helping. What little girl? There was no little girl. And no one was sick. 

Now this is what she's been pining for. A bag of potent powder here, a phial of pulverized pugnacious there, and she was making a fine amount of trade on party-favors alone. Dressed in vines and leaves and glitter, hair stained red for the evening, for the first hour or so she bumps shoulders, grinds hips, and drapes hands over the shoulders of all manner of unique denizens of the night - ghouls, goblins, killers, princesses, vampires and werewolves and witches real and otherwise. Some buy her fixings, others simple pay her a smile.

She hadn't quite understood the concept of Halloween, as explained to her by Lara, nor by Blair, nor by darling Chamomile. No, it had taken Vanessa talking her through it to really get her in the spirit, and now here she was, wearing something that she'll have to remember to re-use for the stage at the Cabaret sometime, only a jacket protecting what little her costume's left to the imagination and only mildly regretting it in the chill of an autumn evening.

And now she sits, watching folks toss balls at a target to dunk their friends into a tank of beer when she catches a covensister passing nearby. "Wahey!" she says, leaping in front of her with a clipclop of her healed boots. "How now sister! I'd not expected to see you running amok here!"

There was something to be said about peer pressure, she watched it work its own magic as one by one more people lined up to offer themselves up to the plunge. Drunk and giddy and not even remotely thinking about the longevity of their evening. It was an entertaining sight. But she had always liked people watching, wondering what went through their heads as they made the choices they did. Curious. 

A familiar voice and a flash of green in front of her pulls Juniper from her passing hobby. She startles slightly before smiling. “Hey Briar. You’re in good spirits tonight.” She laughs a little. Phial circles were never really closely knit. Bonds held together by similar craft, respect, and a need for numbers. But she would be negligent to not know her covensisters, even if they didn’t mingle. 

She liked Briar. They were eccentric. Unapologetic. There was a lot to admire in how the witch conducted herself from what little Juniper had seen. “Now what kind of witch would I be if I didn’t at least let loose once in a while? Halloween practically gives us permission.” She glanced to the side, smiling as another sorry soul got soaked in cold beer. “I will admit this is a little livelier than my usual haunts though.”

This city sucked. 

The Fellowship branch had no structure, and sure, that was the point, but there was a difference between picking his own hunts and having zero reliable backup without having to contact the Brotherhood and let those self-righteous witch-lovers grab the credit in their reports. 

He’d already had to take it upon himself to do some shit on his own he never would have done back home, and it was getting tiring. Stuff like going to some event that was absolutely a supernatural gathering, packed with monsters looking to get high and make more little monsters (okay, that’s just bitterness, he knew that wasn’t how it worked) or whatever it was they did at these things. 

Whatever was going down, the Brotherhood wasn’t going to be the only ones on the scene. He was going to be here, keeping a watchful eye for anything too out of place.

TRICK! Who spiked the punch? You're seeing ghosts. That can't be real, right? 

He could tell something was wrong as soon as he set the glass down, a chill going down his neck as the number of people at the event more than doubled in the blink of an eye. Some solid-looking, some translucent, quiet and slow as they milled about, almost a hilarious juxtaposition to the dancing, partying crowd. 

Werewolves knew how to throw a party. Juniper had been to one or two back home. Though she hadn’t been in a mindset to fully enjoy herself. Forgoing drink and dance to stand on the sidelines. Forcing herself into the role of wallflower. Fearing attention, avoiding it like it would burn. 

Turns out she rather liked attention.

Maybe the culprit was alcohol, drugs or the magic in her veins reacting to the static air around her. But she felt warm to the bone and lighter than air, if she didn’t know any better, she would think the wings on her back actually worked. She didn’t know what time it was, nor did she find herself caring all that much. Who cared what time it was when there was someone giving her all the attention she could possibly need. 

Juniper had never been the most skilled dancer, but she had rhythm, which mattered more than perfect coordination in this type of setting. Besides, her current dance partner didn’t seem to mind. It occurred to her she didn’t actually know his name. If he had given it to her, the music was too loud for her to hear it. If not- well it’s not like she had asked. 

        bambi’s grazing- exploring, perhaps. and, really, she’s having a lot of fun just wandering through the rave. because of the whole water thing, she’s never really been to the docks before, and all that she knows about what goes on here is that this is where they really spooky wolves live- not that they throw awesome parties! it is, like, really, really loud though. so loud the music feels like it’s grabbing her and shaking her, and waking up all of the quiet things inside of her so that they start screaming too. or maybe that’s just the drugs she’s on, ‘cause those are just as fun.

        allie’s found a quiet-ish corner by the apples, where she can hear other people talking, mostly, instead of getting swallowed up by the bass. when she’s closer, she realizes that they’re not just trying to get some fruit in the middle of a rave, but, instead, they’re cute little apple shots. next to her, there’s a blonde girl with her hair tied up in a bun, and allie gives her a soft little gasp.  “ oh my gosh, you’re, like, so smart for putting your hair up- ”  but when allie gets a closer look at the other girl- she smells flowers in her hair when she turns to look at her, something green tickling at allie’s skin -she realizes she’s met a fairy!  “ oh, wait, you’re tinkerbelle! that’s so freakin’ cute! ”  she squeals, forgetting all about the apples, as her attention turns to the pixie. her head tilts, along with her smile beaming, but something … stops her. or maybe she only pauses, like the breath had been taken from her lungs. it’s awfully silly, but allie has a hard time taking her eyes off of the other woman once she’s looked at her. a forgotten warmth fills her chest, keeping her there. it’s like she can hear her name being called, softly, swept away by the wind.

The night was going well, but she was far from drunk. A little lighter on her feet, her normal anxiety tempered and under control. Still she was a long way from the giddiness she hoped to end her night with. 

The last two drinks she had been offered had obviously been tampered with; it was probably magic and not drugs, but either way she didn’t fancy becoming an episode of 20/20. Whatever was in that cup she would need a trip sitter for and she simply did not have one. So they had accidentally spilled in moments of manufactured clumsiness. No one was going to get mad at the girl with a cane for not being steady on her feet. 

By the time she found the apple shots she was more than ready for another drink, maybe two. She knew how to be patient however, so she didn’t mind the wait. The girl next to her was buzzing, it was a little contagious. 

It took Juniper a moment in the lights and commotion to realize she was Bambi, and that she was talking. A smile broke out on her face. “Thank you so much! Bambi is such a cute idea too! I would have never been able to pull off that makeup.” It was impressive, much like the girls' bubbliness. Bubbliness that seemed subdued the longer she looked. 

Juniper thinks just for a moment she sees something in the expression of the other girl. Something less than recognizable, yet more than familiar. Do they know each other? Juniper would remember a girl like this. Wouldn’t she? There might be a name on the tip of her tongue, but she feels like she is forcing it. Writing off the growing tingle at the base of her skull as a normal chill or shiver. 

The compliment is so sincere and blunt she can’t help but laugh, pulled out of the moment and returned to the party around her. “Oh my goodness. That’s so nice holy shit.” She was in a bit of disbelief. “Sorry- I just- Thank you. You look absolutely incredible tonight too.” She offered her hand to shake, feeling awkward but delighted at the same time. “I’m Juniper, if you need a hair tie I have a spare.” 

Halloween's one of those nights that's always been earmarked in a calendar because ain't nobody being themselves for a day. Wearing them masks and costumes so they's can be anybody other — everyone's either locked away in their houses feeding sugar to curtain climbers or they're out at some festivity getting sloshed. It means there's a lotta places empty, and a lotta opportunity for a criminal, and a scoundrel to slip between the cracks.

He's still figuring out this roommate business, since Juniper opened her door and invited him in. Gave him a room to hide from that big ol' star, 'cause she's got some gripe about the cove and cavernous stayovers.

Bedroom doors wide open (because he don't know what boundaries are) when he gets out of the shower and begins searching for a pair of sweats. He's got one of her botanical towels wrapped around his waist, tucked in to keep it tied. Yesterday's forest green one is still half over a desk chair, half on the carpet. He'd been meanin' to pick it up to hang it out. 'Cause he knows he's using up (and dirtying) all of Juniper's guest towels when he comes back lookin' like a grease monkey after a night goosin' it down Blacktop.

He thinks his sweats are in the dryer, actually.

It's when he's in the lounge that he's gotta do a double take, 'cause he don't remember Juniper having wings on any given day. She might be some kind of magical entity but he ain't seen her flapping all insect-like around her pad. He's gotta say she does look a bit more like a dragonfly than a wasp.

He leans against the sofa's armrest, smiles at her getup. It's cute, he supposes.

"You's knockin' on doors tonight, flower?"

It was surprising when he took her up on it so quickly. At first it was weird, not uncomfortable. She had expected sharing her space would feel like an invasion of privacy on some level, even if she agreed to it. It didn't end up being bad though, just different. 

Now- four months later, her biggest issues were keeping Sage out of his room (she still didn’t understand what the issue between them was), and the fact that at this very moment she had to get ready in the living room because the only other full body mirror she liked was in the bathroom. 

Word of the rave had spread through the grapevine and ended up in Juniper's ears a couple weeks ago. At first, she didn’t plan on going, operating on autopilot and denying herself the fun for no good reason. Realizing her self-sabotage she felt a responsibility to go in the opposite direction; now she was having brief second thoughts. 

She didn't think she looked bad, but the longer she struggled to get the wings in place, the longer she looked at herself and the longer she looked at herself, the more likely it was she was going to start over thinking her everything with destructive efficiency. The bathroom door opening saved her from that fate. “One of these days I’m going to let Sage wreck your room if you keep leaving it open like that.” she called out an empty threat; it’s not the first time she has said it. As such she is pretty sure it’s falling on deaf ears anyways. 

It is just after she gets the wings firmly in place that Garrick speaks, earning himself a sideways glance after Juniper startles slightly, her eyes quickly avert themselves, however. Returning to the mirror as a place to focus on. “I am too old for trick or treating Garrick, by a long shot. I’m going that rave down at the docks. Couple hundred supernatural's packed into a warehouse with unlimited access to magic and booze? I have to see what that’s all about.”

With how much she had been hearing about it over the weeks, she just assumed Garrick knew about it too.

“I’ve got everything we agreed on, and then some extra of everything, just in case.” He said, opening his bag to set out the various bottles and tools he’d brought, holding out the too-strong liquor to her. “For you. Keep the bottle, I don’t serve the stuff in my lounge and I’m more of a wine man, myself. Now, talk me through the procedure.”

Juniper gathered her notes and spread them out across the living room table. Walking through the steps of the surgical side of the procedure was simple enough, establish an intravenous line, make sure Juniper can’t feel a damn thing, cut, break, puzzle the bone back together- it was the rest that was within the realm of the unknown. “Basically, I am going to be fusing the bone and incision back together, fusing isn’t the right word… growing.” She sighed. 

“I’ve been… experimenting. So far, I’ve been able to completely regenerate dermal incisions and lesions with high rates of success, minimal or nonexistent scaring. Balancing the cost is tricky, and I’ve never done it on this scale, or with bone. But if it can be done, we’ll know by the end of the night. If not… Then I’ll just be in a cast for a couple months. No biggie.” Yes Biggie. But she wasn’t going to make a show of her fragile pride. This had to work. It all had to be worth something.

The offer takes Ren off guard though, and at first their knee-jerk reflex is to wave off the charity. "Uh! You don't have to," they says, hand scratching idly at the back of their head for a moment. "I'm uh, I don't do a whole lot of caffeine. It makes me all jittery." They don't wanna be rude by refusing the offer either, though. "So, uh, I guess something without?"

Their hands find their pockets then, reflexively trying to scrounge up a couple bucks or some coins, even if it's just to stuff in a tip jar or something. "I uh, appreciate it," they say. The work, the drink, the kindness, all of it.

“No caffeine- got it.” Her motives weren’t completely altruistic, kindness given is kindness earned in the grand scheme of things. At least that’s what she chose to tell herself. So when she got behind the counter she made sure to take her time. Swapping the black tea for chamomile, not only would it aid in relaxation but it provided a lighter base, which gave her more to work with. Heated to exactly 160 degrees. She stirred in a small amount of enchanted vanilla syrup to wake up the magic, using a cinnamon stick for luck and abundance. A single word of intention is spoken under her breath and the magic comes alive.

She returns to the artist with a bright smile, pleased with the amber cup of peace she was carrying. “Here, and please- it really is on the house. An opening day treat, don’t think too hard about it.” In a to-go cup as promised she didn’t want to keep them longer than they were comfortable. “It’s a caffeine free version of our mulled cider. It is hot though so please be careful.” It wasn’t a good idea to burn the mouth of someone she was hoping to work with.