2023.02.20 Slap-Happy at Witches' Brew

02.20.23 Slap-Happy at Witches' Brew
A cat meets some mystics at the coffee shop/bookstore.
IC Date	02.20.23
Players	Caressa, Riptavian, Trent Towers, Trey
Location	The Witches' Brew
Spheres	Fera, Changeling, Mage, Sorcerer

Witches Brew and Occult Shoppe - Main Room

When entering the shop, the door will chime from an old-fashioned little bell set above it. First to assault the senses are the scents within the shop, there are heavy herbal smells along with delicious scents of baked goods. Describing the shop itself, it can be considered broken out into two sections. A front section that is the entirety of the front of the shop houses the cafe portion, and a back section that is split in half with one half devoted to tall bookshelves and a wide-variety of books, while the other half is devoted to a huge herbal and apothecary section that includes needed supplies for the practicing pagan. Separating the front and back sections of the shop is a long, rectangular glass counter for specialty items and checkout. It has a narrow space to enter and exit in order to serve customers and check people out from the cash register that is at this counter. There is a sign that states, 'If you can not find the book you are looking for, please enter your request in the special order book.'

The front of the store has nooks built against the front windows that are comfortable window seats with piles of cushions for the customers to sit and read, chat or snack comfortably. There are also plush, comfortable seats that have high cushioned arms arranged in cozy triangles around little tables for people to relax and chat. Just to the left beyond the cafe seating is a long glass counter that is displaying a plethora of baked goods, all very interesting and all very delicious. Behind the counter is a barrista that can also offer a multitude of drinks, from coffee, to tea, to water or any non-alcoholic drink. All drinks are delivered in unique cups, no two cups are alike, and they are all porcelein.

In the far back of the room, behind the bookshelves and shelves of merchandise are two doors that are always closed. One door has a sign on it that says 'Employees Only', the other door says, 'Private'. At the front of the store, there is a set of double-glass doors on the right hand side that lead into an expansive greenhouse, although the glass windows are often misty due to the moisture of the greenhouse beyond.

       PLACES/+views/+notes available - +note/read here/PEACEFUL_AURA        

NOTE: There are several cameras pointing at the entry door, the cafe and specialty counters. Also - if you do anything in this shop that would be noticable, or Mia or any other workers that work here are involved/impacted, please @mail Anyu.

Trent steps through the front entrance, causing the bell above the door to jingle.

Caressa steps through the front entrance, causing the bell above the door to jingle.

Caressa wanders in and makes her way slowly to the counter. "Oolong and a coffin brownie, please." She pays and waits patiently for her order.

Trey is seated at a table, leafing through a book from the stacks and sipping a cup of coffee. Most of the patrons seem to be giving him a wide berth, though he doesn't look like a serial killer or anything.

"Oh, hey, Caressa," says Trent, also up at the counter. The rooster is once again absent today, Trent in a buttonup shirt and loose-fitting suit jacket, slacks, as if he were coming from some meeting somewhere. With his buzzed head, it gives him a sort of post-high school sports frat business student aspect, even if he's a little old for that. "Sorry I had to bounce so suddenly yesterday--did you figure out what was up with the girl?" He accepts the coffee he'd just ordered and scans the bar, eyes lingering on the lonely Trey.

Caressa turns around quickly, or as quickly as she can manage at hearing her name, "Oh, hey Trent." She smiles, then adds conspiratorially, "We've got to stop meeting like this, with your c...oh, you didn't bring your friend?" She makes a dismissive gesture, "Oh don't worry about it. I hope you and Erika had a good night."

Trey's senses tingle. He glances up slowly, dark eyes watching the two at the bar with calm curiosity, not so much a creeper as an eavesdropper with a hint of amusement to his face. Maybe he's just people watching in lieu of watching TV. The book he's perusing, one about native Californian flora and minerals and their spiritual and magical correspondences, is marked with one finger of his left hand, the cup in his right.

"Massa's taken the rooster out for who knows what mysterious business," Trent rolls his eyes. "He made him this little cape--it's powerfully goofy. They're a good pair. As for Erika, she got me home safe. Not much more than that," he winks. "See that literary twink over there, parked by himself?" he gestures with his chin to the browsing Trey. "What say we go crash his party? Bet you five bucks he's got a secret. Seems like everybody who passes through this place does." And hey, at that moment Trey looks up at the pair of them! Trent grins and tips the guy a little salute, sauntering over toward him. "Hey, man," he says easily. Do Bastet have Rage? If so, Trent seems untroubled by it. "Name's Trent, and she's Caressa. That's a good reference you got," he traces the edge of the book with a finger. "I use that one in my own garden. Author knows her stuff."

Caressa's gaze flits to Trey, head tilting at him. She smiles, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She turns around to collect her order. "Well, I really prefer the table in the window." She sighs, "Trent, jeez." She shakes her head moving over to the window table and making a controlled fall into the seat.

Trey decides that this is just *fascinating*, so when the two approach, he makes a welcoming gesture. One that is for naught, it seems; he shrugs and takes book and mug along with his backpack toward the other table, wirth an inquisitive cant of his brow toward the lady, asking if he might join. Not shy, then.

He tells Trent, (and Caressa, if she seems amenable), "I... am the card between the deuce and the four," he says with a grin that might be a little *too* toothy, but not threatening per se. In any case, the man seems pleased for the company. "Also called Trey," he adds, sparing them the riddle-mongering this one time.

"Le trois, et le roi," says Trent gravely, trailing along after Trey and joining Caressa without worrying about further invitation from her. "What can I say, Lady C," he grins her way, "I'm -personable.- C'mon, sit, Trey, let's wile away the hours. Do you play cards, or just play it fast and loose with the personal metaphors?"

Caressa nods and motions invitingly to one of the empty seats at her table, "Feel free. Nice to meet you Trey." Her violet-silver eyes flit to Trent, she grins, "You're cocky, is what you are." Though she gives a playful wink. "I bet we'd have had some wild times if we'd met a few years ago."

Trey says, "Some, but I'm no gambler unless I'm flush. At the moment, I'm rather... not." He shrugs and smiles, unashamed of his lack of scratch, and takes the remaining chair at the window table. "Good, plenty of people to watch as well as conversation," he notes. He motions to the book and notes, "I'm new to the area, so I thought it would be good to find the best equivalents for things you can't get easily here. I prefer to gather my own when I can. I think the spirits appreciate the effort."

"You flatter me! I'd never have been enough to hold your attention! Now you'll have me wondering about that alternate reality where it's -my- kid in your belly," Trent says dreamily. Then he snaps back to reality. "Or not. Seems like dangerous territory." Quirky little smile.

"Oh? You a practitioner, then?" he says, his attention focusing in on Trey. "I've been known to dabble in the herbalist's art myself. The garden is sprawling and full of mysteries. If you ever need a tract of half-wild half-manicured wood to roam in, don't hesitate to come knocking. I can let you loose in my backyard with a sickle and a satchel and you should be able to appease your spirits for weeks on what you find." Does it count as 'gathering your own' when you're using someone else's garden? It sounds like Trent's garden is somewhat ~wild~, in any case.

Caressa nods to Trey, "Have you met Lyric? He owns the place. I think you two would hit it off. " Her cheeks go pink, and while she doesn't hide or cower, she does suddenly seem more youthful and innocent. Her hand moving to rest on her belly and a little wiggle in her seat, "I don't know. I think you'd be surprised what holds my attention. and hey, I won't fault you for your dreams...fantasies..whatever." Then back to Trey, curiously.

<OOC> Caressa says, "the last to Trent, obviously"

"Oh, yeah," Trey says, almost lazily. "I don't claim to be an expert but a wild garden would be a welcome place. What's growing there?" He's curious, and that much is obvious. "I also have to stake out places that don't belong to anyone to search, because sometimes people get pissy when you step onto *their* territory." He grins at the comment about Carissa's belly, and he says, "In my experience, telling a woman you want to make her pregnant tends to make her shy away. Or maybe it's just because it's me and I have all the tact of an oncoming truck." He shakes his head at the question. "Lyric. A very unusual name. I haven't met him, no, but perhaps I should seek him out. Being new to a place means there's always room to meet potential new friends."

Trent had half expected to get smacked for that one, so Caressa's relatively positive response gets a relieved grin out of him. "I'll try at least to keep them to myself in the future," he rumbles, a little teasingly.

"Yeah, I lucked out," he snrks to Trey. "Glad I'm not the only one with that bad habit, though. I wouldn't say -want- to! Just, it's hard for my mind not to drift that way. My own magics trend toward...sweat, spunk and sangre. Fertility's a focus. I admire it in others," he lowers his head deferentially toward Caressa. "And just imagine myself participating!"

"As for the garden--everything. Fennel, mugwort, pumpkins. Out-of-season cherry blossoms and nuts from foreign climes. I work it most days, work myself into it, perform my workings on it, and it flourishes for me. It'll be 200 years this year it's been kept," he says with a quiet pride, more serious now than he had been discussing fertility matters a moment ago. "A great responsibility and honor to keep it alive out there. But guests are always welcome. I can't keep such a treasure all for myself."

Caressa is already pregnant, and is getting near to the end of it given the size of her. "I'm a rare one, I'll admit. I don't mind it." She shrugs, "Spring is approaching, it stirs a lot of things." She grins to Trent, "Steele and I are planning our wedding. hmm.. i wouldn't mind hearing about them. But you can't tempt me away from Steele." She inhales deeply as she listens. "We, should discuss such thing in private. Spare our new friend." A motion is made towards Trey. She looks to Trent rather pointedly, "Careful." Is said with all the tone of a mother warning a child.

Trey cracks up at Trent's boldness and notes, "If your balls were any bigger they'd have their own gravity," with a smirk. "I've never gotten smacked, but... well, when I was younger, and didn't think before speaking, that particular incident led to me realizing that sometimes, it's good to keep my mouth shut. Well, I try, anyway."

A slow blink follows at the discussion of the fertile land. "A 200-year garden? That's impressive. Shows some serious effort at custodianship of the land, which is not all that common. That *is* an honor, and in any case, if I do use your garden, I will properly thank the spirits there." He seems very serious about that, despite his easy humor earlier. As Caressa warns Trent, he says, quietly, "Secrets given to people like me are ones kept, for the wise know when not to speak, and honor demands."

"I think I'm technically Massa's property now anyway," Trent says. "Although he's only forbidden me messing around with other men, not women. I--anyway!" Enough on that horny-ass topic. He tilts his head in acknowledgment that he wasn't being all that sssubtle. "Passed down from adoptive mother to adoptive daughter all the way down to me, the callow adoptive son. Not clear to me if I'm supposed to adopt a daughter to pass it on to myself or exactly what the score's to be." Listening: "And we appreciate your circumspect nature. Like I was saying to her before we came your way...seems like everyone who passes through here has secrets they're itching to share."

Caressa smirks at Trent, Trey gets an appreciative smile. "Secrets should be my middle name, but it isn't. I'm a psychiatrist, so yeah, confidentiality is a good thing." She picks up her brownie to take a bite, suddenly wincing and hissing as she somehow manages to bite her tongue. "uhfucngawd!"

"Then I think I will like this place a great deal," Trey notes with a wry but sincere smile. "There are a great many secrets perched on the tips of people's tongues. People want to be *known*, in so many cases, and don't realize that the person who comes to know you might not wish you well." He considers the passing-down rite. "Either adopt one or take on a student -- a young one, not a child -- who fits. If it was always women's land, it should return to women's hands in the long term."

"A psychiatrist? A healer of minds and souls. Something this world needs badly. So much madness of the darkest sorts out there." He blinks at her exclamation. "Are you all right? you didn't bite anything off, right?"

"Technically to keep the cycle I should take on a child young enough to be my granddaughter, at an age she'd remember me as her father, too. I've got a few years before I'm quite old enough for that. I--" And then Caressa's spasming. "Contractions?" he interrupts himself immediately. Well! What else is it gonna be?

Caressa lifts one hand to cover her mouth, so the other reaches up beneath it to hold her tongue a moment. "No, its alright.." She says to Trey, her hands slowly lower. "Just bit down wrong I guess. " Then she swats in the air near Trent. "No, thankfully he's going to be a good boy and wait till Beltaine. I hope. Ever played midwife. I wonder if you'd panic." She shakes her head with a smirk and roll of her eyes at Trenth

Riptavian steps through the front entrance, causing the bell above the door to jingle.

Trey ohs and relaxes a bit. "Birth around Beltaine? Good fortune, then, for a child to come just on the birth of the year's greening. Not that California really has a *winter* like we see in other parts of the country, but still... symbolism matters." He raises his brows at Trent. "Have you been a midwife before?"

"I've only ever been present at the other end of a pregnancy," Trent admits. "I'm good enough at bodies that I'd like to think I could deliver a child off the cuff with minimum risk to life and limb, but I'd be leaning on esoteric gifts, not practical ones. I should learn the mundane way of it some time." Trent, Trey and Caressa are all seated at the table by the window; Caressa just yelped but apparently just bit her tongue. Caressa is now checking messages because she's somewhat AFK.

Trey nods at that and says, "That's a good skill to have, whether mundane or..." he grins. "Esoteric. I admit, I'm not much of a healer. I can put a salve on something or bandage a wound but that's about it. I've never seen a human being give birth." He reaches for his coffee mug and sits back, pressing a finger to his lips. "Is this place lacking doctors or is it a preference to have a home birth?"

Rip comes lumbering in, a few eye shifting to him, a little bubble of discomfort spreading around him as he awkwardly skulks into the little bakery/Witchery-supply store. Hands find his pockets as he cues up. Oh, good...The person in front of him is leaving, cues always do seem to go quickly when he gets in line...15 blueberry muffins are ordered and he heads back for the door. But then he isn't. Sharp ears catch a snippet of something and curious feet follow up. Soon enough hes interjected himself into Trey and Trents conversation, sidling up to the pair of the and looming to peer down at them as he adds, uselessly, "Ain't much different'n anything else what live births, really..."

"Lady C and I both adhere to an older way. I suspect for her the ritual of birth will be a sacred one, and she wouldn't want the trappings of modern medicine getting in the way of the sprigs of holly and lamb's blood and whatever other accoutrements she deems fitting to bring her child into the world. We're -very- good at bodies when we want to be, her people and mine. Pain turns to bliss with the stroke of a sprig of fennel, a whistle to the right god ensures luck and health. The Old Ways. But the ones that, y'know, actually work."

He looks up at Rip: "It's a little different, right? Because our stupid heads are so big. Most mammals have heads that actually fit in their mothers' birthing canals, but ours are all...watermelony."

"Ah, that makes sense. A birth has so much spiritual significance that it seems wise to mark the occasion appropriately," Trey notes, agreeing. "The Old Ways." He marks those words into his memory, it seems, and then looks up, way up, at the tall man who jumped in. "Yeah, that's the problem, human heads are huge. Human babies are really kind of pathetic looking in most cases, and they're helpless for so long, it just makes you wonder how humanity managed to survive, doesn't it? I mean, most mammals are mature within a year or two..."

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Caressa rolls Strength vs 6 for 2 successes.
1 +7 +9 10
<-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->


Caressa doesn't even get through her last message. Oh, she's been listening. She looks up at Trent, and catches Rip coming in. Too bad Trent vomits words before Caressa's hand whips up and slap him hard across the cheek. "I -said-, shut the fuck up! Now help me out of this damned chair and walk me to my car."

"You ever haff'ta pull a calf out of a cow? Spend your mornin' shoulder deep in ol' bessie and tell me how well they fit. But ya, alright. We do have big stupid heads. Being bipedal hurts, too. Fuckin' up the hips." a sage nod and then. He glanced at Trey, giving him a slow up and down and then grunting. "Social bonding. Hallmark of human domination. Apes together strong, or some bullshit, right?" Then the slap happens and Rip immediately burst into a fit of laughter hard enough to double him over, hands on his knees. "Oh fuck pretty boy! Boss lady jacked your shit up, God damn." he says through the laugh, straightening himself up. "You alright there, Boss-lady? You want for I should take him up to the roof and shake him upside down? Put the scare on him?" he teases, either not picking up on, or willfully ignoring the tension of the moment.

Yawp! Well, that startles Trent. But he's not about to argue with the pregnant witch-queen. "Yes, Lady C," he says reflexively, as if they'd pre-arranged it, and is immediately on his feet, extending an arm to her to help her to hers. Submissive isn't quite the word; it's a little too proactive. But it's close to submissive! Obedient, at least! "I think she just wants me to shut the fuck up," he says abashedly to Rip's offer to fuck him up.

Trey is about to answer gaily when The Slap happens. He doesn't seem stunned, just a touch surprised, which he conceals rapidly. "I... gathered that," Trey offers, gaze moving among the three assembled around him, eyes assessing. "It was a pleasure meeting you both," he offers lamely, trying not to piss off the Pregnant Lady With the Fast Fingers.

Caressa growls. Tendrils of shadow move through her hair. It may be nothing, it might be something. She looks to Rip, shaking her head. "No thanks Rip, I can do that myself." Moves tendrils of shadows weave into her hair, and over her left shoulder. "You are coming to the estate young man! We're having a talk!" She pulls herself out of the chair, using his arm, and if she could drag -him- to the door she would.

<---======##====================[ Dice Roll ]=====================##======--->
Riptavian rolls Perception vs 7 for 0 successes.
6 6
<-------------=============++++++++++++++++++++++++=============------------->


The first thing that may come to mind for those watching might be 'oh shit, Hel.' Hel hath no fury like a woman scorn...or just a very pissed off Caressa.

Man, those shadows would be /really interesting/ if Rip wasn't such an oblivious twat. Speaking of being oblivious, when Caressa becons Trent with the 'young man' moniker he perks like he might think shes talking to him. "Huh? Shhure, I can help you out.." he says absently, munching on one of the over a dozen muffins he's got in a sack. Trey gets his own slap now! But this one is much softer and on the back. A heavy clap of a hand as if he and the total stranger had been best friends for years. "Good to meet you too!" He says, seeming to again assume he had been a part of the group addressed despite being a total interloper.

Trey is game to be friendly to Rip as well. "Trey," he says in short, sparing the big man the riddle. "My pleasure." He makes an effort not to show any reaction to thr thump, which, while relatively gentle compared to the pimp-slap Carissa laid on Trent, is still more than he was expecting.

Caressa pauses a the door. She gives Trent her keys, "The red lexus, warm it up. So help me it isn't here when I get back.." She voice slowly shifting to gravel. "I'll..be right back." She turns around and makes a bee-line towards the ladies' room. Baby. bladder. yeah.

"You must be one of her underlings, ya? You wanna toss me those keys? I can bring it around if you wanna go help her to the bathroom." Rip offers with a half-cocked grin. "She ain't about to pop is she? I'm like, basically a Doula. I popped out a kid not but a year'n a half ago. Home birth and all." Trey gets another glance as Rip repeats. "Trey trey trey...got it, trey. Locked in my memory now! ah-...ha ha. Never going to forget." by the end of his statement, hes fallen a little flat. Deadpan, just kind of staring at the stranger far after hes finished speaking.

Trent fields the keys. "I think anybody she wants to be her underling is her underling," he says dryly. "I appreciate the intervention, but I'll be alright. And so will she. She's not on the verge of anything." He shrugs and makes for the car as he's been bid. He was raised by a witch; it's usually easier than arguing, in his experience.

Trey says, "Take care, man," toward Trent, wincing. Poor guy is in for it, he suspects. There's more going on than meets the eye, and Trey is not In On It. That fact alone is a bit frustrating, but otherwise, it's been a nice enough afternoon-slash-evening, so he's not going to complain too much. "You're a doula?," he asks Rip."

Caressa arrives from the restroom an appropriate amount of time later. Stupid baby sitting on her stupid bladder. When she returns, she keeps her head bowed letting her long auburn hair hide her face. She says nothing but anyone in her path just parts and give her a wide berth. Then she's out the door.

"Yeah well, what do you expect from a mafia queen?" Rip casually banters back to Trent. "Power talks, bitches walks." he says with a sage nod to the poor man deemed Caressas gopher for the evening. Trey get a light shrug in return. "I'm not like, accredited. But I've assisted in several births, including my own kids."

Trey ohs and says, "Experience means more than a piece of paper in any case. When I have my own, I hope to be able to help in the birthing." Someday, someday, just not right now, it seems. He smiles and then asks, "So, are you bringing all of those home?" He motions to the bag of muffins.

"Nah im heading in to work soon. Figured I'd be the coolest guy in the fuckin' office and bring up something for the boys'n'girls in the overwatch." he replies idly, watching Trent and lady-C leave with a skeptical eye. "The boys going to get his ass tanned. What was he talking about to get such a shut down?"

Trey shakes his head. "I'm honestly unsure," he offers ruefully. "He talked about his garden a bit, things like that. I mentioned that I gather my own materials for my ritual observances." He taps the book before him, one that lists herbs, flora of all kinds, and minerals native to California and their meanings and uses.

"Yeah? Right on, I ain't really about that hippie shit, but good on you for believing in something." Rip replies with a sniff and a twitch of his nose. "WELL!" he proclaims loudly for no real reason. "I gotta get going, you have a just....God damn brilliant day, alright, Trey?" Another pat on the back and hes turning and heading for the door.

Trey cracks up and says, "Likewise," amused and pleased for some reason.