The Blessed Thistle[FxF, Fantasy/Modern, Romance, possible extreme themes.]

[ObscureObscenities]

The Blessed Thistle
Modern/Fantasy, FxF, Romance, Could be dark

My idea for this one is a woman who believes herself to be a witch, and or someone who is a witch for sure, but a rather weak/inept one, who is thrust into a dangerous situation where people, or the world, is relying on her, and her weak powers, to do whatever she can to save the day. I imagine thrusting her into some serious situations, and grappling with her being a sweet perhaps bumbling young witch, with very little power, showing that she will do her utmost fucking best anyway. This can be a sweet playful game also, or a very serious intense one. really eager to work with this one.


Intro 

              “Terra, honey, we need more scones taken up front please.” Chimed Elain’s voice through the kitchen and Terra perked up from the table she had been doing her work at. “Yes, yes of course!” Terra answered quickly, a small flush filling her pale cheeks for no reason other than Terra could blush at a look, a word, or hell a thought. “Once second!” She piped up with a bit of enthusiasm as she moved, brushing her hands off on the pink apron that hung from her neck. She was glad for it, she’d been leaning over the table rolling clumps of dough into buns, and the floured surface had already left a nice white line across the pink of the apron, which was only messed up more as she cleaned her floured hands on the fabric.

                Strolling over to the racks in the warm kitchen she picked up the tray laden with warm, and fresh scones, only out of the oven in the last couple hours they were usually some of the first things picked out during the day. Balancing the tray carefully in hand she pulled it free and started for the door leading out into the main shop. This process was of course complicated by the fact that Terra was prone to end up tripping on invisible objects any given twenty feet or so, or at least that’s what people assumed of the somewhat clumsy young woman. Fortunately this morning, she was able to navigate between the mixing equipment and work surfaces that filled the kitchen, to get to the exit without having to apologize profusely for running a trays work. It wouldn’t be the first time it had if it had happened, and she said a small prayer under her breath as she slipped out of the door for making it there without trouble.

                The shop, Taste E’s Treats, was a little cooler out here, than in the kitchen behind which still had ovens working on different baked goods to be put out for the day. Bright welcoming colors, and the scents of fresh baked goods was a welcoming waft to anyone who came through the glass doors, kept nice and clean, all the better to summon patrons in with. The walls were colorful, but not because of paint or wallpaper, as they were a comfortable pale yellow, bright and inviting, but more so because of the art pieces that covered nearly every spare scrape of walls. The yellow peeking out from behind art ranging from modern and serious, to abstract pastels of flowers, and even in one corner a rather risqué oil portrait of the shop’s owner herself Elain. Though it had to be decades old, because the woman behind the counter had hair without an ounce of color left to it, and her sun kissed skin showed lines from her warm smile and crinkling eyes that the painting had no indication of.

                Terra was already blushing again having had to walk past the portrait, Elain claimed she’d had a young man do it in exchange for a life time of free pastries. But she managed to make it to the long glass counter that held the various delights being offered up for the customers whom flocked to the bright colorful shop each morning. Tarts, strudels, cookies, and pies, scones, biscuits, breads of all sorts, Elain loved having something for nearly everyone and the varieties changed often enough that even their regulars got to try something new all the time. Balancing the tray against the back side of the case, thankfully there was a small ledge meant for it, because with Terra’s record, if she did so without it it’d be the end of some deliciously filled scones. She started to doll the vettles from the tray into the case, focusing on her task and paying little attention to the people who filled the shop.

                The shop was not super busy yet, not this early in the morning, but it had people coming in, making sure they got the treats they wanted for the day, or their breads fresh as Elain always promised them to be. The smell of coffee cut the warm yeast smell of baked bread some, and she could hear the hiss as Liz handled helping a customer with their coffee order on the far side of the bakery counter. Terra had always enjoyed the combination of fresh baked scents and coffee, the slightly bitter warm notes of the coffee and the yeasty warmth of the bread a pleasant marriage in her mind.

                “Hey…is that her?” Came a voice from the other side of the counter, where a line awaited making their orders known, and coffees brewed. Terra redoubled her focus on her task refilling the class case, her head bent down. Usually her hair would be in her face, helping to hide it away as the redness in her cheeks was already starting to warm to life. But here in the bakery she tied the bright red locks back into a bun behind her head, keeping it out of the treats as one would wish, and it left her feeling…exposed. “What? Her? Who.” The voices weren’t kept terribly low, it wasn’t like Terra was trying to eavesdrop on anyone, she was just doing her job…the blush continued.

                “Her That’s Heathrow’s witch, isn’t it?” The flush that had been building deepened to a crimson on her pale cheeks, it made the freckles almost vanish as the pale skin deepened in color, and Terra finished getting the scones into the case, straightening up, pulling her large bakery tray against her chest. Her bright, and deep sapphire colored eyes flicked from the case, for an instance to the customers who were talking. It was two young men, she didn’t recognize them, but they caught her glancing at them, and the other’s eyes seem to alight with recognition. “Yeah it is!”

                The blush was creeping down her neck and against her chest now, she could feel the warmth of it, even if the apron covered her from the neck down. She broke eye contact quickly and turned, hurrying herself back towards the kitchens. Back to where she was not going have to deal with customers, and where she could try to get herself to stop blushing. It was stupid, she shouldn’t be blushing, they recognized her… so what right? It didn’t help, and the heat of her face rivaled some of the ovens she as she moved to put the tray away and head back to her buns, she had more work to do.



                “You get some sleep now dear, no no, don’t argue with me. You keep staying up all night like you do and you’ll burn yourself up. End up with as many wrinkles as I have in half the time you hear me?” Elain’s voice followed her even as she closed up the rear door of the bakery, blushing and bidding goodbye with a wave. The shop wasn’t closed for the day but the baking was done, which means she got to go home. She’d left her apron, and work clothes in the small changing room Elain had, her boss was wonderful and covered the laundry expense on their shop clothes. Always said having flour on everything you owned was annoying and insisted on it.

                She straightened the loose comfortable black skirt that clung to her waist and billowed around her legs, her slipped free patting the sidewalk as she rounded the corner, giving a last passing glance to the shop as she started her walk home. There were more people inside now, mid-morning was a busy time for them, but they didn’t need her help up front. No, she was more likely to pour coffee on someone, or drop their tasty treat on the counter than to help any. No, they sent her home when the baking was finished for the day, and she preferred it that way too. Turning away from the shop finally she pushed some of her long curling red hair from her face, tucking one side back behind her ear, the other loose to provide the shroud she hid behind. Her ear held a long dangling silver earring, a piece of little stars, and crescent moon, which had tiny symbols carved on it.

                A matching piece of silver work graced her throat, till the stars hid away beneath the collar of her dark green t-shirt. Her friend Georgia was always complaining that she could dress up more, try to wear things to bring peoples attention more. Georgia never seemed to understand that the last thing Terra wanted was anymore of anyone’s attention being specifically on her. Tall, at nearly 6’, with bright red hair, and sapphire colored eyes, there were usually more than enough eyes turning her away when she went anywhere. She never knew what to do with it, and while she certainly wasn’t awful on the eyes, she had never really seen past the freckles that covered her nose and cheeks, the eyes that seemed too wide and frightened, or the fact that at the barest prompting he cheeks would ignite into crimson. Georgia could keep her opinion, but Terra was comfortable, and that mattered more to her than fixing to be looked at by people.

                She’d spent the remainder of her shift in the bakery working and thinking of the two young men who had noticed her, who had seemed to point her out with their words. Heathrow’s Witch… it was not actually an insult, though some may think of it as some, and she really shouldn’t blush at being called it, but it was the way they had said it really. The disbelief, or rather…humor to the tone that she’d detected. She didn’t mind being called a Witch, in fact, she was quite insistent on it. No, what embarrassed her as much was that they found this Witch…working a shift in some bakery to make ends. She sighed depressingly to herself as she rounded the corner to her neighborhood, the street sign she passed under proclaiming Heathrow St.

                Heathrow, was in a poorer district of the city, the shops that lined the street were a fit to them, little bauble places that likely hadn’t sold anything all month, but didn’t close because there was nothing else that wanted the property. A laundry mat, small corner store that sold things more expensive than anywhere else because people couldn’t afford to go further away to buy their items, the liquor store was always popular too. Apartments soared into the skies above shops that lined the main st. Terra could have afforded somewhere nicer than Heathrow, easily in fact, if she had just wanted an apartment for herself to live in. But she had bigger aspirations than that, she didn't want to work in a bakery forever. No, she had more in mind for herself, she had a purpose. To hell with those customers from earlier, she was Heathrow's witch, and she was proud of that….well mostly.

    The reason she lived in this district, was because she couldn't afford a shop, in any other district in the city. An apartment, sure, but she'd never be able to afford a store front somewhere besides Heathrow. She took a corner, off of Heathrow, but just a little, stepping down a small side street before coming on her place. A sign was fixed to the wall above a small stairwell descending a level. The Blessed Thistle hung above her as she stepped down the small set of stone stairs, there was half windows at street level that let light into her shop, and pots of plants filled the rim of the windows and hung at the tops of them. At the bottom of the stairs she pulled her keys from her slim backpack, and unlocked, then pulled the gated security fencing to the side revealing  her glass door which had more words in similar stylized script as her sign above.

    Healing, Charms, Potions, Herbs. It listed followed by Witch's services by appointment. Lastly a set of hours, noon to midnight, and the shops phone number. She used her keys to open the door and step inside and was immediately hit with the rich scents of plant life and herbs. Her shop, dark at the moment, was as familiar to her as the back of her hand and it was easy to navigate over to where the light switch was, and aide the limited light coming in from the ground level windows at the front top of her shop. With the lights on the comfortable feel of her little shop settled over her and eased a tension out of her shoulders.

    Small displays set into the walls held candles, charms worked on wood, or small pieces of jewelry, another rack held small vials of different potions, various colors and bottle shapes all stoppered tightly. Throughout the shop plants were potted but growing openly, the vines of most hung over other racks and displays, or even dangling from the ceiling. It was almost a herb shop enitrely without the other baubles, but it was hers. And where one might think of a witches shop as dark and dingy, her space was lit well, and warm, welcoming.

    Terra set her backpack on the small counter in the rear portion of the shop, next to a door, and moved to open the door. It was 11, she would have the shop open proper soon, though Elain would complain tomorrow again if she came in yet again with just a few hours of sleep to her early shift baking. The woman meant the best, but just...didn't understand. This wasn't Terra's hobby, it was her life, not the baking job...this.

    Stepping through the rear door, the back stock room was...not a stock room, she'd actually managed to convert the room into a bedroom, a studio really, another small door led to a small bathroom, and she had a bed to one side of the room. The other side held a dresser with her clothes and few personal things she had left on the top of it. She had sold pretty much everything she owned to afford the downpayment on this shop, but she had it, and it was hers.

    At the end of her small bed a portly grey cat lifted its head and blinked yellow eyes at her before meowing. Terra gave the fat cat a flat stare. "Yes. Georgia, you did sleep my entire shift." Terra answered the grey feline, whom blinked slowly at her then laid its head back down on the bed. Giving an exasperated sigh she stepped past rubbing grey ears briefly before taking using the bathroom. When she was finished she shooed Georgia out into the shop proper. "I feed you to keep the mice away from my herbs, don't make me go find someone better at it." She chided the lazy cat as it gave a grumpy meow in protest to being ousted from the bed and pushed from the back room out into the shop.

    Settling herself at the counter she took a deep breath getting comfortable, because she would be here for a while now. She didn't get many customers...mostly people looking for novelties, pretending they were interested when she tried to tell them about the items they were looking at, but she could see. She could see the doubt, the disbelief in their gazes...  and she wasn't going to let that bring her down. She knew what she was, she was a witch, and she would make everyone see it, somehow.

    "Did you do anything besides nap today Georgia?" Terra asked the grey cat, who had found her way to a small patch of natural light that made it in the windows at the front of the shop..