@limbox-ofthestar

Many people from the nearby towns gathered to Jubilife City whenever the flea market was open. Being in a central location for the west side of Sinnoh, customers and merchants found it to be convenient for buying and selling homemade goods. Among the rows of stalls and tents, there is a small table towards the corner of an alley that boasts different plants for sale. Among them are medicinal herbs, pollinator flowers or colorful pots of plants for the succulent savvy folks. There are even small jars of local honey from Floaroma Town available.

This market was one of those rare times where Marjorie didn’t mind being around so many people and engaging with them. She was happy to answer their questions from the most common to the most trivial. Sharing her passion with others easily helps her forget how exhausting this could be.

It’s not until the crowd begins to thin out when Marjorie takes an opportunity to sit down for a moment and let herself rest.

“Ahh, I can’t believe how much we’ve sold already, Chervil.” She comments with a satisfied sigh. The Leafeon gives her nothing more than a swish of his tail in response, finding the shade underneath the table a great place to take a nap instead of minding the booth with her. Not that she really needed the extra help.

Her short break is soon interrupted when another customer comes into the booth, perusing the leftover merchandise she had before the crowd came through. Marjorie quickly stands up from her seat, brushing her market apron and casts a smile to the girl that walked in.

“Maybe help you with anything?”

Wheel of Fortune: What would my muse consider to be a good change? How lucky do they consider themselves? How often do they take responsibility for their actions? 

Everything.

“I’m pretty claustrophobic. I start to freak out when I’m in really confined spaces for too long. You know, stuff like a small bathroom, an elevator...a closet...” Quentin began to shift his weight from one foot to another as if trying to distract himself. He rubbed the side of his left arm with his opposite hand, before bringing his arm down to pick at his fingernails. It was a nervous habit he had been trying to stop for years now.