A Spoonful of Sugar

[practicalmateo-blog]

orphaned-selkie-theo:

It wasnt the odd plants that were carefully organized in the bottles and jars that attracted Theo in the store. It was the various containers they came in. With his backpack bulging from him shoving his thick seal pelt in it, and wearing the too big tee shirt he had found laying around Iann’s place and boxers that made his legs look even thinner then they were, the boy was an odd sight to see. But at least he was wearing clothes now. 

Large brown eyes wide and curious, Theo was reaching out to touch one particularly large jar filled with god knows what when the other spoke. Theo’s head snapped towards the other, dirty blond hair messy and askew. “…yes.” Theo responded, not really sure what the other meant but not wanting to ask for clarification.

Mateo didn’t pay any mind to the boy’s attire. He was used to people coming in in all states of dress. He’d seen plenty of people walk in in their pajamas looking for something to cure the illness they’d come in contact with overnight. The boy certainly fell into that category. Perhaps having come straight from a lover’s place considering how the clothes clearly didn’t belong to the boy. 

Mateo heard the tentative response and the hesitation was enough to watch him grabbing for one of the large jars of chamomile. The dried flower heads coiled and small in the jar. “Chamomile,” Mateo spoke up as he looked at the jar with the young man. “I’ve been selling a lot of that this time of year. “Really good for upset stomachs and helps you sleep,” he continued trying to be a little more helpful. 

[diegolunadaily]

[callmedaisy-blog1]

New Town, New Me//Open

[practicalmateo-blog]

callmedaisy:

Daisy turned at the sound of someone’s voice. She smiled apologetically, blushing a little. Her father had always chastised her for not being able to hide her feelings. To live in their world she would need to learn to council her expressions. When she was younger Daisy had tried in order to please her father. As she grew older though she had done her best to hide her feelings in order to protect herself. It was a skill she’d never really managed though.

“Yeah, I haven’t got any change,” she admitted. She didn’t mention that she didn’t have a credit card either. The one she’d got in her legal name and used to buy a plane ticket to London had long since been discarded. Daisy wasn’t sure if that made it obvious that she was on the run. Either way it probably didn’t matter to this man. “And I think I’ve used all my luck up for the day, so if I tried to pop into a store it’d be towed before I got back,” she added, still smiling apologetically. 

Mateo shooed away her options with a wave of his hand. “I wouldn’t chance it if I were you,” he told her. “I saw the parking enforcement office a block or two back. I’m not sure if they made it through this way or not yet,” he observed. Mateo rarely drove, his home was situated just close enough to his work and to the essentials he needed. Bread and butter was never more than a brisk walk away but still he was well aware the unnecessary hassle a parking ticket would cause. 

“Here,” Mateo began as he protruded the coins rattling around in his pocket and offered them to the girl with his open hand. It wasn’t much. Roughly an hour or so’s worth but that was plenty of time to get an errand done or at the very least make change somewhere else.  “These would just end up collecting dust back home anyways. I’m terrible at spending my change and this should last you a while,” he explained offering her a smile. 

[practicalmateo-blog]

pruerosales:

“Uh?” It struck Prue as stupid to have believed she could just go unnoticed as she browsed through the store, trying her best to read through all the labels in vain hopes to understand what each thing both contained and was for. At least it was way easier than going through a pharmacy, that was for sure. “Actually, I think you could.” Probably, since he ran the shop. Duh, Prue. 

Leaving the little bottle of something green she had taken back in it’s place, Prue walked to the man, tapping her fingers gently on the counter out of a nervous habit. “Do you happen to have one of those ‘strong enough to bring anyone back from the brick of death’ kind of medicines? I…happen to know someone who isn’t really responding to conventional medical treatment, and I thought perhaps something a little more natural could help?” If no, then perhaps she could get the man to lower some of the prices on his potion ingredients, thought that wouldn’t be for the patient she had been assigned but for the house she needed to set wards on. 

“I know I’m asking for a bit much, but considering your prices, I suppose you might have something strong enough to warrant the prices? You know, some rare root you had to buy from the black market or something?” Prue imagined that the shopkeeper must have to buy some if the ingredients for his remedies outside town - unless she had misjudged Soapberry and the town had more secret little places than she had imagined. 

As much as Mateo loved Mrs. Petrovic, her needs never really satisfied his desire to teach and truly help someone which was the mindset Mateo was in whenever he came to work and judging by the woman’s demeanor she was in need of some help. Though her question saddened him. This wasn’t the first time someone came to him in a dire situation. He knew this was someone grasping at strings and when traditional treatment failed, he was one of the first to get tugged. Unfortunately, what most people don’t realize is how much naturopathy is based in prevention that saving one’s life comes long before they’re at death’s door. 

Mateo would keep those thoughts to himself. Now wasn’t the time to push his ideology. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt,” he confirmed not about to make empty promises as he walked them towards his stronger section. They didn’t need anything to clear up sniffles or help someone sleep. “It all depends on what pushed them to the brink in the first place,” he continued eying the Sweet Wormwood in particular. 

Mateo had to laugh a little. “I don’t have anything here that comes off the ‘black market’,” he assured her, “But yes, I do have things strong enough though most of their strength comes from someone’s diligence when taking it and the longevity of it,” he explained. His work wasn’t meant to be a quick fix. 

[practicalmateo-blog]

perenellelamorte:

The stark distrust earned from over a century of dealing with shysters and snake oil salesmen promising the cure for all ills as long as money changed hands lessened as his demeanor shifted and her questioned answered without hesitation. Either he was a very good liar or honest, and while she didn’t like to put all her eggs in one basket, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt for now. She didn’t apologize to him; she’d been right to ask, but she did relax. Her posture opened, and she looked around the store with less judgment and more of the curiosity that she had said that she had visited the store with. “All right, don’t get your feathers ruffled; it’s an honest question,” she said finally, knowing that he’d either hold a grudge or understand why she asked. Or both. 

She walked towards him, appreciating that he wasn’t like others she had met. “To be fair, I say that there’s benefits to your store as well, and it’s good that you’re here,” she said to him before she held out her hand in a belated greeting. “Perenelle Lamorte, and if your relationship with Mrs. Petrovic gives her something to look forward to, then bless you - in whatever religious or non-religious way you want to take that.” She smiled finally, beatific and like she hadn’t come in ready for a fight in case he was up to no good. “So, spin me a story. Do you have anything in here that would help with snake venom?” she asked candidly, never knowing what tricks any person who lived in Soapberry had up their sleeves. “Or, if you can’t help with that - what made you want to open this store and where’s a good place to start looking for the uninitiated?” What he sold wouldn’t help her, but she had a roommate and her daughter to look after. “Show me the good stuff.” Unsure exactly of what the good stuff was. 

Mateo noticed her shift in posture happy she was able to suppress her judgement enough to not be giving him the cold shoulder. After all, she had been the one who walked into his place. Even if it was an honest question her delivery could use improving. No one likes to here accusations made about them and the practice they’ve made their life’s work. 

Mateo relaxed again as the woman approached him and offered her hand. “Thank you,” he began. Even if it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, Mateo was well aware of the importance of his work and the fact that there wasn’t already someone offering his services in town already was shocking. When there’s werewolves and vampires and like beings walking around the thought of following a normal prescription with an ingredient list chalked full of words no one but the scientists in the labs can pronounce had less appeal. “Mateo Ortiz,” he introduced himself as he took the woman’s hand–– vampire. That certainly explained some things. Vampires had more than enough time to be rooted in their opinions. “I hope it does, I look forward to seeing her too,” he said returning the smile. 

Hearing her ask about snake venom certainly made Mateo raise a brow. “Oh, no. I don’t care any animal products here. Well, besides the infused honeys,” he corrected. He’d been varying degrees of vegetarian and vegan over the years only really toying with his diet when he felt he was lacking in one area or another and he didn’t really see the health benefits of a fatty, dense diet so there was no need for a meat locker here. Her second question was much easier to answer and was enough to make him leave the safety from behind the counter. 

“Well, the store itself is out of convenience if anything. I don’t think I’d have the heart to prescribe something to someone and not be able to offer them exactly what they needed,” he explained. The world revolved around convenience and he knew his advice would easily get thrown out if they had to then explore of his tinctures. “As for showing you the good stuff that all depends what the good stuff is needed for,” he said with a chuckle. If you asked him everything he sold could be considered the “good stuff” in the right context. 

[practicalmateo-blog]

perenellelamorte:

Perusing, as her daughter liked to call it, was shopping with little intention of buying, but Peri had some time before her shift started at the hospital and with her roommate having disappeared after failing to find her some eclairs and her daughter spending time with Henrik and her potential-date not answering her texts, she was left with more time than she normally had. She saw Mrs. Petrovic walk into the store and slipped in behind her. Normally, her shift ran well through the time that she had time to explore what Soapberry had to offer.

“Just curious,” she commented to him, as he wrote something down. “You can ignore me.” She didn’t want someone following her around the store trying to push any snake oil on her, and she wasn’t sure the reputation of this store owner or if what he peddled was any use or if it was strictly psychosomatic. She picked something up, a bundle of herbs that spoke of aiding in sleep and she studied what they were. They’d work, she noted, not a stranger to the medicinal craft that some witches specialized in despite having gone the more traditional route. 

“Tell me,” she said suddenly, peeking around to locate him before she continued to speak. “Are you the sort that would rather everyone use what you sell regardless of modern medical treatment or are you confident enough in your craft to realize that you won’t know everything and will send people to the hospital if they need care?” she asked bluntly; her bedside manner saved for those that were brought to her and never wasted when she was making introductions. Skip the fluff and dancing around and straight to what she needed to know. “She likes you, you know. Mrs. Petrovic does. It’s like you hung the stars and the moon. That’s some responsibility you got.” 

Window shopper. It was clear to him now that she had no intention of buying anything and he was perfectly fine giving her space. He wasn’t one to hover or force a sale especially not when it came to the matters of one’s health. That was a journey of trials and tribulations that had to be started on one’s own. So Mateo kept on his path, facing the labels on the bottles that Mrs. Petrovic had toyed with and pretended to read. He’d wait until their paths would cross again even if it was just to wish her a nice day as she left. 

The question made it clear their encounter would last longer than a brief moment. Her question was abrasive and had he not heard the question posed in varying degrees of politeness since college he might’ve taken offense to it. “It isn’t about the sale,” he clarified almost instantly. It was the only part in the question that genuinely rubbed him the wrong way. Mateo cared very little for the linings of his pockets and more about the genuine wellbeing of the people who saw him. “But to answer your question, yes, I’m aware of my limits. I’ve advocated for traditional medicine many times,” he informed her as he straightened up. Not about to let his body language project any weakness. 

At the mention of Mrs. Petrovic he turned his attention to the door half expecting her to walk back in. “I know,” he told her. He liked her too. The woman was the closest thing he’d have to a Valentine this year. Mateo’d have to remember to bring flowers for her on the 14th. “And there’s no cure for old age. There’s nothing wrong with offering her friendship. That’s what she’s really coming to see me for.” He knew the therapeutic value her trips to see him had. They got her up in the morning and gave her something to do. That alone was more effective than anything he or traditional medicine could provide her to keep her going. 

[practicalmateo-blog]

Mrs. Petrovic was a sweet woman. Her head barely reached his sternum and her vision was holding on by a thread. She often times mistook, Nina, the striking Ocelot, to be some very odd mutt of a dog–– though she still loved on her, shaky hands and all despite the inherent confusion. The woman almost always reeked of menthol cough drops (not prescribed by Mateo) and today was no different. Her smile was as bright as ever as Mateo paid attention to her like she was the only girl in the world. 

Mateo had no cure for the laundry list of aliments the woman had and after showing her the array of of tinctures located on the shelves in his small store front, he sent her home with a mix of herbs and dried petals that would make nothing more than a good cup of nighttime tea for the women to enjoy with her shows. Mateo ushered her to the door. “Alright, Mrs. Petrovic tell me how that helps you sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told the women as she hobbled her way out with her own warm departing words. Like clockwork she’d be back again at 11 for her daily “check up” as she liked to call it. 

Mateo softly closed the door behind her and turned his attention to the person who had slipped in some time while he was helping Mrs. Petrovic. 

“Just browsing?” Mateo asked as he went to his books and scribbled down what he’d given the women still giving the person space as they looked around. He had his fair share of window shoppers though with it being cold and flu season more and more people were turning to him when their flu shots failed. His prices also were quite competitive when it came to ingredients for potions though the witch no longer partook in those kinds of creations his services and products were still available to both the ordinary and extraordinary. 

[callmedaisy-blog1]

New Town, New Me//Open

[practicalmateo-blog]

callmedaisy:

Adelaide Caldwell, now Daisy Clark pulled into Soapberry Springs after almost two days of straight driving. Part of that was because she had been way to jazzed to stop. The other part was that she had wanted to leave as little trace of herself as possible. Skipping out on her own wedding was not something that her father would appreciate very much. A sick feeling twisted her stomach every time she thought about it. 

To combat this she mostly tried not to think about it. Instead she focused on the fact that after six months of being trapped in her father’s house she was free. For the first time in her life she was free. It was a thought that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. Daisy pulled into a parking spot on Main Street and got out of her rented car.

She needed to pay for the spot. The only problem was that she wasn’t entirely sure how. When she had withdrawn money from the bank they hadn’t given her any change and she didn’t have a credit card or even a bank account to go with her new name. Daisy stood at the parking meter, chewing her lip and trying to figure out exactly what she should do. 

No matter how many fancy or revolutionary coffee machines and pour over devices Mateo owned the coffee he made at home never tasted very good. It wasn’t bad, per sé just unremarkable and that exactly why he’d indulged in a nice cup this morning. With the change left over from the exchange Mateo left the busy cafe with his hot cup of joe in hand. Even if it was just straight, black drip coffee it still tasted 100 times better than whatever it was he made at home. 

Mateo was on his way to work when he noticed the rental car and the woman standing in front of the pay station. Since she was clearly out of town Mateo decided that this would end up being his first good deed of the day. 

“Need help? I think I’ve got a few quarters” Mateo told her as he reached into his pocket to thumb at the coins that were now dying to be out of his pocket. If they weren’t spent now they would just wind up in couch cushions or in change jars never to be spent again.