The halfbreed had been up for several hours in order to prepare for business' open on the chilly Monday morning. She stood before her workbench, pounding and combining various ingredients into powder for the latest of orders.
"Thirty doses"! Why would anyone need thirty doses of this foul-smelling stuff" It's likely not even potent enough....But a recipe is a recipe and he did insist that it be exact, my professional opinion not considered."
She spoke candidly to a thin and mostly hairless dog that lay quietly in the chair to her left. The Chinese crested peeked at her through white foundations, it's glassy-eyed expression giving the fey'ri more company than comfort.
"Bother. I can't believe that rumpled old sot demanded pick up as soon as we're open, as well, after dropping off the order at the last minute..."
The dog woofed softly and she smiled lovingly towards it, "That's right, Nikolai!"
Each resulting dose was measured, weighed, and spooned carefully into a thin white envelope, each stamped with her insignia, then labelled and set aside.
Dark eyes scanned her desk and she took down a stack of papers, each outlining an order that would need to be filled today. She separated them into time slots on the wall, allowing a two hour buffer before their requested pickup.
Next, she returned the powders and additives used for her recently completed project to their respective homes. Fungus was placed in a cabinet, a jar of bone shards on the shelf, and several other varying powders were returned to the locked cabinet beyond her desk. A place for everything and everything in it's place.
Her preparations complete, the demonkin strode through her shop, righting shelved products that had been turned or disturbed. She was a stickler for order and organization, you see, and would stand for nothing less than perfection in her place of business.
The last and final order of business was to cross the front counter and slide through a raised panel in the wall. She passed down a hallway past shelves lined with aged volumes and scrolls, reaching the in-house library. A couple of books were selected from the collection and she turned on a heel, returning to the storefront. The books were deposited on her desk.
She reached down into her chair and lifted her wiry, canine companion into her arms, nuzzling it with affection. Settling into the highback, she glanced to the waterclock perched in the corner. She had fifteen more minutes to relax before turning over the open sign which read:
"DarkStar Apothecary: Open for Business"
"Thirty doses"! Why would anyone need thirty doses of this foul-smelling stuff" It's likely not even potent enough....But a recipe is a recipe and he did insist that it be exact, my professional opinion not considered."
She spoke candidly to a thin and mostly hairless dog that lay quietly in the chair to her left. The Chinese crested peeked at her through white foundations, it's glassy-eyed expression giving the fey'ri more company than comfort.
"Bother. I can't believe that rumpled old sot demanded pick up as soon as we're open, as well, after dropping off the order at the last minute..."
The dog woofed softly and she smiled lovingly towards it, "That's right, Nikolai!"
Each resulting dose was measured, weighed, and spooned carefully into a thin white envelope, each stamped with her insignia, then labelled and set aside.
Dark eyes scanned her desk and she took down a stack of papers, each outlining an order that would need to be filled today. She separated them into time slots on the wall, allowing a two hour buffer before their requested pickup.
Next, she returned the powders and additives used for her recently completed project to their respective homes. Fungus was placed in a cabinet, a jar of bone shards on the shelf, and several other varying powders were returned to the locked cabinet beyond her desk. A place for everything and everything in it's place.
Her preparations complete, the demonkin strode through her shop, righting shelved products that had been turned or disturbed. She was a stickler for order and organization, you see, and would stand for nothing less than perfection in her place of business.
The last and final order of business was to cross the front counter and slide through a raised panel in the wall. She passed down a hallway past shelves lined with aged volumes and scrolls, reaching the in-house library. A couple of books were selected from the collection and she turned on a heel, returning to the storefront. The books were deposited on her desk.
She reached down into her chair and lifted her wiry, canine companion into her arms, nuzzling it with affection. Settling into the highback, she glanced to the waterclock perched in the corner. She had fifteen more minutes to relax before turning over the open sign which read:
"DarkStar Apothecary: Open for Business"