♜ apothecary

@jeon jungkook .

[tw: death/dead bodies, blood]

Dreams were an oddity for Angelina. She scarcely had them but, when she did, they always seemed to carry a lot of weight. Memories of things she couldn't recall and the always shrouded faces of who she knew were her birth parents. This night's dream was shaping up to be different, though. As the corpses of the two she only knew in her dreams lie still on the ground, a disembodied version of herself approached them and reached out to turn over the first body, so close to seeing her mother's face, when a thunderous pounding sound startled her into turning toward it. Nothing. Set on her mission, her wraith-like avatar turned back to her parents, only to find them both decomposed to the bone...

The apothecary woke with a start, sitting up straight in her wool-stuffed bed with her heart thundering and her gaze darting about as she regained enough spatial awareness to recognize the knocking at the shop's door. There was no mistaking the sense of urgency in each rap and, soon, the familiar voice registered. Wasting no time, Angelina got to her feet and tugged on her night robes. Familiar with the space, she didn't bother lighting a lamp and simply hurried out to the front of the shop to greet her unexpected guest.

"Jungkook, what could possibly be so urgent that yo—" Sentance halting, she cursed under her breath the sight of the minstrel, his usually nicer clothes utterly drenched in blood that was darkened to a sinister shade in the moonlight. At a glance, she couldn't make much sense of where it was stemming from, but it was clearly worse than his typical "accidents." Silently, the apothecary hurriedly ushered him inside and helped lower him onto a stool, paying no mind to the patch of crimson seeping into her own garments. "Are you able to remove your shirt on your own?" she asked, taking care to lock the door lest any unwelcome visitors follow the trail of blood he'd undoubtedly left behind. "Don't force it if you cannot. I'll only be a moment." With that, she left his side to begin lighting the candles dotting the cluttered room. Bit by bit, a hanging carousel of herbs; shelves and shelves packed with vials, books, and satchets; and a messy but organized work desk all being illuminated by the warm glow.

@angelina danilova [TW: blood, violence] There was nothing that Jungkook regretted more in that moment as he ran through the dimly lit street, clutching the side of his torso. Out of every women he could have wooed and buttered up, it had to be a taken one. He grunted and turned the familiar corner to lose the angry assailants, his shallow breath hushed as he staggered up to the apothecary’s door. It looked closed, but that didn’t stop the minstrel from desperately banging onto the wooden surface.

“Angelina, angel. Ugh- .” Hushed curses aired out through cracked lips, his fingers nearly digging into his side. Cautious eyes flickered around before his fist resumed beating at the door. “Lina. Open up, please. It’d prefer it if my clothes don’t get any more tainted than it already is. They’re expensive you know?” To him. Pretending to be someone he wasn’t was expensive, but it was the price to pay for someone like him if he wanted anything the world had to offer. Plus, it was much too fun for him to give up. Humans were stupid. And what they don’t know won’t hurt them too much.

After an entire morning a buzz with activity, Angelina finally finds a moment to breathe after she bids the last lingering customer adieu. Releasing a quiet sigh, she sinks on her work stool and utters the words "what a day.." in a way that feels vaguely familiar—deja vu hitting her like a ton of stones.

"The cold season is always busiest, little one." The gruff, but warm voice of her father suddenly fills her head. She feels his rough hand—affectionately patting her recently shorn locks and it suddenly like she's 7 years old again, experiencing a day's work at the in-town shop for the first time. The shop around her looks the same as it ever did, but she's viewing it from a much lower angle before she looks up to the source of the voice with a child's doe eyes. Ealdwine is smiling at her like the cat that got the cream and it's then that she notices his other hand is conveniently hidden behind his back.

Curiosity gets the better of the little apprentice and she speaks up, dragging jade eyes away from the curious spot with inquiry and wonder dancing in them. It's not long before the apothecary brandishes a wrapped loaf of sweet bread, partially uncovered with the raisins embedded in it glistening in the low lit room. Young Angelina's gasp of surprise was nearly drowned out by the loving manner in which her mentor explained, "A little present, to celebrate 7 winters since I found you," while nudging the dessert into her much smaller hands.

Back in present day, Angelina feels the ghost of a smile on her lips as she can practically smell the raisin bread, before the ringing of the shop's bell breaks her reverie to announce a new arrival. Taking a steeling breath, the 25-year-old apothecary quickly brushes away the beginnings of tears and smooths her apron before returning to the front of the shop with a warm greeting and the mental reminder to visit the baker before she retires for the day.