Susannah rocked back on her heels, which was a motion fast engraving itself to habit, and stared up at her new storefront. Caféfront. Whatever.
The move to the city was by turns difficult and quite easy. Adventurers were now constantly coming and going from Swamptown, and she was an appreciated public figure, so fetching a protective escort to a big city with some adventurers who had loot to sell was, figuratively speaking, a breeze.
She ended up in Konox city, which was almost the size of the capital. It made excellent business between a gold and a diamond mine, and had expanded over the years to absorb a port town to the north, which then spurred more growth.
Or so the real estate agent said.
Susannah did not really care. It was big, and adventurers wouldn't harass her. The air smelled like brine as you got to the north, industrial smog as you got to the south, and coffee in her shop. An upgrade from Swamptown, and a downgrade from many places she had been. Konox landed firmly in the good enough category, and that was just fine with her.
That was where the easy things ended. But nevertheless, for an exorbitant monthly rent, she got her new café.
It was filled with the decor she bought for Swamptown. Magisplash gray paint had been flicked onto the walls, where it then magically expanded out to cover them in an even, glossy coat. Her tables were made of wretched wood, and the seats were so plush that if you leaned back into them you could be consumed. In fact, one person had. Poor Jerry.
The tables had dollies and moss tablecloths. Blackout curtains were drawn over the windows. The display counter was currently empty.
The kitchen was unpacked, but there was no heat from the oven or waft of sweetness.
The outside had a tiny terrace, only two tables worth. She had a painted sign that looked like a stiff wind might send it to splinters.
She had set one of her wretched wood tables outside. She had spares, as her new café had a smaller interior. The wood had caught fire, screamed, "The sun! Oh, the sun, it curdles mine heart--!" And in a flash of flame burst into smoke and a small pile of ash. This pile of ash got up, shook a fist at her, and stiffly escorted itself underneath some shade. She hadn't the heart to sweep it up yet.
Overall, her new café, so perfect for Swamptown, felt gloomy, depressing, and utterly unfit for the big city.
Susannah made a slow, 175° turn on one foot, lost her balance, wobbled her other foot to the ground, then shuffled the extra 5° for a full body turn.
The shop across from hers was a flower shop.
Its outer walls were pale yellow, and it had two massive open windows between the screen door. Flowers of all colors burst out of the windows, in no organization.
The sign above it was white trimmed and had ivy carved along it's pastel pink words. It read 'Any Flora Here' and further proclaimed in smaller text underneath, 'we do events.'
It was bright, and pretty.
Susannah hesitantly approached. As she got closer she smelled jasmine. She recognized it only from her experiments in baking with flowers. There were no scents from the other flowers to conflict with it. She rested a hand just above the mesh screen. The air was hot.
Susannah went inside.
Plants were everywhere. Hanging from the ceiling in planters, freely dangling like vines, crawling up the walls, flooding the floor, everywhere she looked there was a leaf or a stem or a bloom. The patches of the walls she could see through the plants on the floor were so covered she could not discern the color of them.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The difference from the heat radiating out from the door and actually being inside was staggering. It felt like a humid jungle climate, or a perfectly ordinary greenhouse.
She couldn't hear anything. No rustling or whistling or chirping. She brushed a leaf with her fingers. It wasn't waxen, but it felt fake without the noise of life.
There was a winding path forward. It was root filled and no section of the floor was undirtied. Her vision was blocked by a cyan leafed branch, but she assumed the florist was onwards, into the plants.
She cautiously made her way past the plants.
There was a desk at the front. It was made of metal, oddly. Susannah did not recognize it, but she guessed copper. It was clutter free. The only thing on it, in fact, was a silver bell. There was no signage, but she could take a gander at its reason. She pressed her pointer finger to the top of it.
Ding!
She waited a minute, then two. Ding. Ding, ding, ding.
From the plants, a distant shout, "Alright, I'm coming, I'm coming, keep your cap on!"
Then, a man burst through the plants. He was big. The type of tall and wide musculature that pushed the boundary of what pure human genetics could achieve. He looked like he could physically pick someone up by the throat with one hand to choke them.
He had brown hair, cut close to his head, and bright gray eyes. There was a gnarly scar across his throat. Thick and ropy, like someone took a knife cloaked in fire and hacked into his neck.
He was wearing a brown apron, no shirt underneath it, black work pants, and rubbery pink boots with ducklings printed on them.
Most eye-catching were his tattoos.
Two full sleeves of tattoos on his arms, that curled onto his neck, torso, and face.
The right arm was plant themed. Carnivorous plant themed. She recognized white snapwyrms, sabertooth lilies, and baby's bone.
The left arm was deep sea creatures. The kraken wriggled an arm in a wave to her. She looked away before she could see more.
What she could see of his chest had something scaly curled along it, possibly a dragon. A taloned hand arched up his throat, onto his chin, along his cheek, clutching something.
He smiled at her. The hand shifted to the side.
Susannah was, against her will, intimidated. She rallied. "Hi. I'm your new neighbor, across the way. My name is Susannah."
His smile grew, losing some of its customer service shine. "Well how about that? That lot's such a revolving door they stopped trying to sell it. My name is Karulk, owner of this here shop, and let me be the first to give you a grand ol' welcome to Konox!"
Susannah was now downright terrified. His accent told all; this man was from Saxes. She wasn't going to be able to politely leave this conversation for hours.
"Thank you. It's an… interesting city, I'm sure. I'm running a café, Soul Coffee, and found myself in need of new furniture. And Magisplash. Wretched wood just isn't cut out for all this sunlight. I was wondering if you could point me to some stores?"
"Well I'll be. You got wretched wood? Where're you from? Swamptown?" He laughed like he had just told a joke. In a way, he had.
"Yes, actually."
"Oh." His smile faded. "You looking to sell it?"
"Sure I could, but I need new furniture first…?"
"Of course, of course. Directions… let me think. Go to the open market and ask around for Frolly. She'll bring you right to the right shop. And if you need help lifting anything let me know."
"Thank you for the offer, and everything really. I'll keep it in mind." Susannah worried about the direction this conversation might take if she didn't resolve it quickly. "Daylight is burning. I best be off now."
"Daylight is always burning. The stars burn up their cores for light. I know a fair amount of astronomy, being a botanist and all..." He scratched his chin. There was some dirt under his fingernails. Small stains appeared where they rubbed.
"That's nice. Maybe we can talk later? I really want to get some of this done today."
"Alright then. See you later, neighbor."
She nodded and turned away.
Under his breath Karulk then added, "I hope."
Susannah heard that and chose to ignore it. She threw over her shoulder, "Thank you again for the help."
It was time for some shopping.