Thatcher Wicket

30 years old. Co-Owner of CuriosiTea. [Thatcher is a member of When the Smoke Clears RPG.] [I track the tags thatcherwicket and wtscthatcherwicket.]

[thatcherwicket]

How Do You Do? (And Shake Hands) || Annica and Thatcher

[urchinwithnograce]

Annica was at the supermarket for her daily shopping trip. Things didn’t get used as much when she was shopping for herself. So she shopped mostly every day. It wasn’t unusual to skip a day every now and again, but things were fresher when she ate them if she bought them every day. It was a simple fact of living alone. One or two days worth of anything that could spoil and that was it.

She did have a small stock of other things, cereal, soups and the like. But Annica enjoyed cooking fresh. Perhaps it was the fact that her father owned a seafood restaurant and the girls got top of the line food growing up. Her taste buds were spoiled… but when one had the money to do such a thing… it was less of a problem than it could have been otherwise.

She’d been rather bundled up when she first arrived, had, scarf and jacket all necessary to keep her cozy in the cold of the winter. But now both lay temporarily discarded in the corner of her basket. She hadn’t planned to get oranges, but as she walked past they just looked so good. So, she paused to examine them. To see if they were as good as they could be for tropical produce in wintertime in maine. She didn’t catch a voice speaking to her first off, but when she did she turned. As his face lit up with recognition, so did hers. She grinned. “You do indeed! Hello! Thatcher right?” She could swear that was what his name tag said…

[thatcherwicket]

Thatcher's eyes widened slightly when she called him out by name. Must patrons didn't bother to learn his name, if he told it to them, and even fewer picked it up on their own. It made his grin gleefully, and he nodded in response, a bit bouncy as he rocked on his heels, "Right!" But then a frown marred his features, though it was a perplexed expression, not a sad one, "But I don't think I've ever learned your name. I should have..." Thatcher had always been good with faces, but never names, and though he recognized the shop's usual customers he rarely managed to learn names. His gaze found the tips of his shoes, and his hands stuck themselves in his pockets, an expression that was sure to mean that he was a little embarrassed for not knowing. "What's your name?"

[thatcherwicket]

Tea-riffic || Cedric and Thatcher

[xgivemework-blog]

Cedric looked at every ingredient on the surface, he had knowledge of tea of course, knowledge enough to make a decent cup of tea for himself when Louise was not at home and when not feeling his time could be used in a more useful thing; so when he found out she was around he usually got a way to convince her to make him a cup and if he failed, well… The was CuriosiTea.

"Chai" he repeated, truthfully intrigued as Thatcher continued to prepare the drink he was telling him about. "Winter Chai, sounds good for the time of the year. A little bit to obvious but fits" his sight followed his every move, he had no better thing to do and after all he’d go sit at any table later.

"Let me know how it works out, I’d like to taste it. You’ve given me lovely tea cups in the past I have to say. But I’m afraid I cannot remember your name for the life of me."

[thatcherwicket]

"I can tell you in ten minutes..." he muttered, going into the back for the briefest of moments in order to get a stack of tea cups. There were ten cups stacked, and he put one before each of the infusers. He pulled a bottle of sparkling water out too, for a palette cleanser. Dropping the infusers in their respective cups, he poured water over all of them, filling the cups halfway. Now that they were steeping, he could take a quick break to make his customer's tea. 

A cup of Earl Grey later, he was walking around the counter, so he could hand the cup to the man. "Thatcher," he grinned, offering his name, before he glanced back over his shoulder, to see how his new blend was doing, distracted by that, as he usually let his chai steep for longer. If he didn't, the flavor would be overpowered by milk, if he decided to add it to today's tasting.

Thatcher pranced over to the tea again, looking at the color of the steeping beverage, knowing it was almost ready, but no quite. The waiting drove him insane, he hated it.

[thatcherwicket]

Artist (inspired by x)

Thatcher does not draw. Nor does he paint. He’s far too jumpy to dance. And though he reads a lot, and tells stories, his brain always flies far too fast for him to be able to write them down. So he doesn’t consider himself an artist, most of time, though creative certainly is a word to describe him. Blending teas, however, is his one art, a form of expression through flavor and scent. He’s been blending for as long as he can remember, finding himself fascinated by more than just the flavors of his favorite beverage, but also how it was made. His fixation has reached the point where his window ledges have become miniature gardens, growing tea leaves and anything he can add to infusions, if they’ll grow in Maine’s climate. It’s a bit of an addiction, but it’s an art. And in Storybooke, Thatcher is the maestro.

[thatcherwicket]

Tea-riffic || Cedric and Thatcher

[xgivemework-blog]

Cedric had been in his headquarters far too long, so long that Louise had tried to kick him out but in a way more gentle manner. You’re far too pale, you need a little more color. Have you tried going for a walk? It’s lovely in this time of year! 

Of course his answer had been a tight smile, who on Earth thought it was a lovely time in winter? Let alone, catch a little of color in this time of the year. “That woman has gone nuts.” he muttered under his breath as he pulled the collar of his coat up to fight against the winter chill. What he needed? A nice cup of warm tea and there was only one place he could think of when the word tea came to his mind.

Walking down the street he made his way to CuriosiTea, –the name still struck him funny to the clever choice of words for the shop’s name-, he did not pay attention to the other people walking around him nor he gave the slight of glances to any customers inside, if there was he didn’t notice and if there were, he didn’t mind. All he wanted was a cup and a cup alone.

"I’d like a a cup of Earl Grey please" said Cedric, answering the clerks question while looking around for a table to sit at when an specific scent caught his senses.  "Could you tell me what tea is that one you’re blending? Smells delightful" For a man set in his manners, this inquiry had even surprised Cedric himself.

[thatcherwicket]

"Earl Grey," Thatcher muttered, making a mental note to get that- as soon as he was done with this. Earl Grey they had plenty of, a popular choice, and it would have made more sense to make the customer his cup now. There was already water heated to the right temperature, as he'd made two pots for his experimentation. And the tea was on display, just inside the counter that Thatcher was working on, but the man was focused. It didn't occur to him that making the other tea now was an option. 

In front of him were different components, the usual blend of darjeeling they liked best at the shop, cloves, ginger, cardamom, vanilla beans, which were one of his favorite things due to the smell, nutmeg, and cinnamon chips. The perfect ingredients for blending together a chai tea to keep one warm during the cold, Maine winters. Exactly what he needed, suffering from the cold as much as he suffered at the smell of coffee.

"Chai," he looked up from the tea, putting each of the little piles into a different tea infuser, quickly scribbling notes regarding the ratios on a post-it, and placing it beneath the infuser, before going on to the next one. Ten infusers sat in front of him by the end, with a pile of the same combination beside it, incase he needed more later. "Winter chai. It's new. Or will be. It's not finished yet."

[thatcherwicket]

Keep Calm and Drink Tea || Diana and Thatcher

[nevra-erdogan-deactivated202107]

"Yeah," She said. "Our house was fine, a little messy with everything getting jostled around but fine." She said. Luckily no walls had caved in or anything like that. She was thankful as well that neither of her parents had been hurt. "My cat broke her foot though. She’s in an itty bitty cast but the vet says it’s healing well which is good." She said with a smile. She hesitated slightly. She thought she knew him or knew of him from Maddie at least. "Thatcher right?" She asked with a smile. "You know Maddie I think. I mean I’ve seen you around but I don’t think we were introduced."

[thatcherwicket]

"Poor cat!" Thatcher frowned. Everything had sounded fine up until that. He didn't like it when animals got hurt, and though he was never a big fan of cats, it was a shame that the poor thing had gotten hurt. The mean earthquake messed with everything. "Thatcher," he agreed, nodding slightly, "I know Maddie. We work together. We're friends. You're her friend, right? I've seen you before."

[thatcherwicket]

Tea-riffic || Cedric and Thatcher

Thatcher was manning CuriosiTea alone at the moment. It was halfway between the morning usuals and the lunch rush, which meant that it wouldn't take more than him to keep up with any orders that came by. And with Mira and Dorian both not even ten minutes away, it didn't matter if there suddenly was a boom of activity, he could call them in to come rescue him.

He hadn't even bothered going to the back of the shop when he decided to take the quiet time to blend new teas. He'd gone to get the components, true, but then he'd brought them out to the front, to sit at the counter. The front of the shop already smelled strongly of tea, but the scent only intensified as he began to blend, the sheer amount of flowers, leaves, and other things permeating the air. It put a smile on Thatcher's lips, and he began humming to himself, fully devoted to his work. Some people painted, others danced. Thatcher blended. 

He was almost done with a new blend, creating different mixtures with different proportions of this to that, when the door open, prompting him to look up. "Can I help you?" he asked the man, a regular at their shop, though the name escaped Thatcher, tea taking up the vast majority of his conscious mind. He needed to sample, to see which tasted best, before he could clean up and focus on anything else. But, alas, a customer!

[thatcherwicket]

If You Give a Hare a Carrot Cake || Christina and Thatcher

Thatcher had been on the way to his car, parked down the block from CuriosiTea, when a tempting smell led him to a shop. Oddly enough, he'd never been to this place in his little town. He'd never even noticed it, and he worked down the street. It said that it was called Sweet Italy Bakery. He'd never been to Italy before, but now seemed like a good time to get the Storybrooke equivalent. The aroma was too sweet for him to do otherwise.

He walked in, surprised to notice that the shop was nearly empty, but that let him walk right up to the counter, eyes immediately falling onto the window of sweets on display. Crouching down in front of it, Thatcher looked over each and every one, getting through about half of them, when a name caught his eyes, causing his jaw to drop and all of him to shake for a moment as a shiver of disgust ran through him.

"Coffee cake?" he suddenly looked up, catching the eyes of a woman working there, "Why would you ruin a perfectly good cake like that? Does it have actual coffee in it?" Tea biscuits, of course, that was a perfectly logical dessert to offer. But coffee cake? That was even worse than carrot cake, and that contained the vile, loathed vegetable. "Please say it's made to poison your enemies! Or that the name is a lie! A cruel, cruel lie! Coffee cake!" He'd stood, beginning to pace, voice falling into a murmur as he mumbled to himself, trying to make sense of such a dessert. Maybe he didn't like Italy, after all.

[thatcherwicket]

How Do You Do? (And Shake Hands) || Annica and Thatcher

Thatcher had been rushing through town, head ducked low as wind buffeted his features. With his collar turned up against the cold, his face was almost completely hidden by the coat, head even less visible with the hat sitting on top. The man hated cold. And he wasn't the kind to hate things, he hated hate. Except when it was towards the cold. Even with his three layers, and having had a cup of tea to warm him up from the inside before he left, the man was still shivering as he rushed towards his destination: the supermarket. 

Oranges were important if one wanted orange peels. And that was the part Thatcher planned on infusing to make a new winter tea. It wouldn't be ready for a bit, not until he dried the peels properly, and that was time consuming. But the longer he pushed back his trip to the market, the longer it'd take for the tea to eventually be made. Luckily the store had a decent fruit selection, and oranges in stock during the winter, so when he got into the produce aisle, the only thing holding him back was the woman standing in front of what he needed.

"Excuse me," he wiggled his chin to get his face out of the folds of the coat, so his voice carried, "excuse me, Miss." But as he caught a better look at her, the thought of oranges slipped his mind for a moment, "Wait! I know you! Hi!"

[thatcherwicket]

Spoon! || Thatcher and Mira

[6ximpossiblethings-deactivated2]

"Maybe fire isn’t the best idea?" she thought aloud. "We wouldn’t want to burn down our wonderful castle, would we?" she said motioning to the room around them.

[thatcherwicket]

"Who builds a castle that isn't fireproof?" he pouted at Mira, arms crossed over his chest very much like a little boy would stand. Sighing dramatically, he walked over and kicking a table leg, frowning at it, "No harming the tea, traitor! That's blasphemy."

[6ximpossiblethings-deactivated2]

Do You Wanna? || Thatcher & Mira

[6ximpossiblethings-deactivated2]

"Maybe because it’s strong like a spear" She said thoughtfully. She wasn’t too sure on spearmint, but it was possible. "You never really know where a name can come from, it can be inspired by the weirdest things.

[thatcherwicket]

"Do we have any spearmint?" he asked aloud, suddenly wondering if it was strong enough to impale something small, a piece of bread, maybe, like one would be able to do with a butter knife. It needed to be at least that strong if it had any hopes of competing with the likes of spears. "Very weird," he nodded slightly, "The people who name things must be mad!"

[6ximpossiblethings-deactivated2]

A Wonderful Time (Storybrooke Ball) || Thatcher and Mira

[6ximpossiblethings-deactivated2]

She smiled walking towards the car. “Why thank you sir” she said as he opened the car door getting inside. "I’m not sure, where else could they hold such a grand event?" She told her friend as she watched him get in the car.

[thatcherwicket]

"I don't know, I was just making sure," he smiled. He didn't know if they might be holding it outdoors, or in one of the schools, or something of the sort. The extent of his planning was to find a suit and arrange to pick Mira up on time. He didn't know what else would go on. Putting the car into reverse, he pulled out of the driveway, beginning to drive towards the ballroom, humming to himself along the way.

[thatcherwicket]

Once Upon A November || Alina and Thatcher

[alinathelionfish]

Good gods, Alina’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of the dog-eared and annotated book. There was note taking, but there was also a line between that and book abuse. Though she didn’t believe it was abuse in this man’s case. He probably just was obsessed with the story of a kooky, strange, far off land that was magically accessed through a rabbit hole. Did he know the running joke of it though? The book being in a sense compared to a trip on acid? In short, Alina agreed that he needed a new company. 

"I’d say you’d need a new copy, in that case." She looked over the book before offering it to him. "Unfortunately it’s not nearly as small as your moth-eared loved one. But with a sturdy cover, I think it would withstand more. Was there anything else you needed help with?"

[thatcherwicket]

"I hope it will," Thatcher nodded, looking over the hard covered book. It'd be harder to carry around, but then again he probably shouldn't carrying books around with him all the time. There was real life to focus on, and he knew he should get better about that, into the habit of getting his head out of the clouds and to be more of a part of the real world going on around him.

Holding the book to his chest, he shook his head at the other question, before remembering something he had wanted to say. His mouth moved before his brain had time to figure out if it was a good idea, a smile stretching over his features as he spoke. "You're a really good storyteller. Really very good. It was nice to hear, I haven't heard anyone tell stories since my youngest sister went to middle school. Apparently you're too old for stories once you're in middle school, did you know that? I'm not convinced, I don't think anyone's ever too old for a story, but that's what my siblings told me, and seven against one has to have some sort of validity, right?" He blushed slightly, "You probably don't care... I'm sorry... Ignore that."

[thatcherwicket]

Once Upon A November || Alina and Thatcher

[alinathelionfish]

Once the children started to wander around the shop, Alina stood up and stretched out her back, aching from sitting in an awkward position for nearly two hours. Oh how the parents probably loved the free babysitting. 

While some of the kids already left with their parents, Alina kept an eye on those who still lingered in the children’s section. And a closer eye on the shy looking man that seemed to slowly drift towards her. She didn’t think there was any reason to be so awkward when inside a book store. A place for nerds, geeks, book lovers to unite and feel at ease. It was home base, in that sense. 

A smile tugged on Alina’s lips before she gave a small nod. “I do. It’s such a popular one among everyone that it would be a pity not to have at least three available at all times.” She turned towards the general direction of fantasy but didn’t move. She gently tapped her finger to her chin then started walking towards the ageless classics. “Ah, here she is.” Alina pulled the new hard cover bound book from it’s temporary home then offered it to the young man. “Last one, too. For now. I’ll have to order more next week.” 

"Have you read it before?"

[thatcherwicket]

Thatcher nodded along at her idea, definitely glad to know that he and his friends weren't the only ones interested in the classic in their small town. He watched as she looked around, eyes following her gaze as he wondered where the story was hiding, following a few steps behind her when she moved towards a shelf. He nodded again, eagerly, when she said she needed to order more. It was always a good idea to have his favorite book in stock, in his opinion everyone should read it, always. He'd read it so many times that his copy was falling apart, and always had a hard time understanding why everyone else in the world wasn't in the same boat as him.

"I have!" he beamed at the question, "It's my favorite book!" Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his copy, a small, pocket sized version he'd gotten as a gift one year, "But mine's falling apart and hard to read, see?" He flipped through the pages, showing it to her. There were spills and stains from where little siblings had gotten their hands on it, pages torn or falling out because of them too. His notes and drawings of things were all over the place as well, some even over the words of the story. It was obviously a well loved book, but if he wanted to keep reading it, he'd need a copy in slightly better condition. He'd always had to retire his copy of Alice in Wonderland every few years, for as well as he tried to care for it, there was only so much he could do for the book.

[thatcherwicket]

Once Upon A November || Alina and Thatcher

[alinathelionfish]

Nothing was more exciting to her week than Reading Day. Though she enjoyed being a librarian at the Elementary school, the Reading Grotto was more homey. It was hers. In her father’s name, yes, but that was simply because she wasn’t old enough to have gained a good credit score at the time of signing a loan. Technically working for her father wasn’t terrible, really there was nothing to complain about. 

Dressed appropriately in a pair of jeans and a loose long sweater, Alina waited what seemed like forever for her young friends to pile in. She always did take it as a compliment that the parents would leave to get other shopping done while she entertained the little ones. 

The “Dive into a World of Adventure” corner was blue, ocean themed with a great wide arm chair. The Mother of Pearl chair, designed to mock oysters that held the precious “rocks” for humans to discover. It was her favorite chair when designing the shop, never being able to resist the urge to connect to the ocean as much as possible. Anyone was allowed in the chair, of course, but only Miss Alina sat in the chair when it was Reading Day. 

Alina pronounced and projected with a loud clear voice, using necessary tones to separate the characters of the book. Today, a boy no older than seven picked a short chapter box. Despite some girls’ reactions to the dragon based story, they sat in the second row and were just as interested a few chapters in. The book lacked in illustrations, but when there was a picture page, she lowered the book, using the pause to let her voice recover before continuing. This is a long one, she mentally commented as she showed the illustration of the second to last chapter. Her eyes scanned the crowd quickly, conducting a brief head count, when suddenly she noticed something new that wasn’t there a chapter ago. A young man. Alina glanced quickly up to him but soon returned to her reading. If he needed her, he’d have to wait. The kids had her attention first.

Not twenty minutes later, Alina closed the paperback book and offered it to the boy grinning ear to ear at her. “Here you go, Jimmy.”

[thatcherwicket]

Thatcher stood quietly as the story continued, eyes occasionally slipping shut as he listened. Not out of boredom or exhaustion, not in the least! But because he could better see the words that the woman was reading, the sentences forming into pictures and a whole world inside his head, wrapped up in the string of words that was the story. A smile played on his lips as he listened to the tale of a dragon, one that was very different from the jabberwocky beast that occupied his mind, whenever a champion needed to fight a dragon in his battles. But it was a good story nonetheless, a happy ending making it worth listening to. So many real life stories ended in sadness, he had a soft spot for anything where everything turned out right. There were things to be learned from the real life tales, but without a happily ever after, he almost preferred to be left in the dark. Not knowing, but being able to enjoy life and reach the end unscathed by the misery that tried to drag everyone down, once the hope, optimism, and simplicity of childhood escaped.

With that, the story ended, pulling him out of his reveries. Eyes opened slowly, and he stood back, watching the children scatter, some running to their parents, outside, others staggering themselves through the children's section of the store. It seemed that only the woman was left, in her chair, and Thatcher found himself drifting towards her, almost pouting. He wanted another story, one to share with people. This one didn't seem to be intended for his ears, but he'd caught a glimpse of it, anyways, reminded of those days back when he lived at home with his little siblings.

Suddenly aware he was standing only a few feet from the woman, he clutched his tea close to his heart, suddenly wondering what he was supposed to say without sounding bad mad. Adults weren't supposed to be on the listening end of story time, especially ones without children, or even a good reason for being in the store.

Blushing softly, he looked at the toes of his shoes, trying to think of a reason for approaching her, brain going into overdrive for a short moment before an excuse popped to mind. "D-do you have Alice in Wonderland in stock?" he murmured, hoping that was a good enough excuse. His copy was worn, tea stained, water damaged, and filled with notes in every margin and free space. If one wasn't him, it was near impossible to read, and even he had trouble with it sometimes. He needed a new copy anyways. Hopefully that was enough of an excuse, and he wouldn't look like too big an idiot for not going to "C" for Carroll in the literature section.

[thatcherwicket]

Help... HELP! || OPEN

Thatcher was at Granny's not sure what to do with himself with CuriosiTea closed for the day. Everyone but him had insisted on closing for a day to reorganize the kitchen, his personal organized mess. He always knew where everything was, but apparently everyone in the shop had a problem with it. So of course the one day he couldn't work, his friends hadn't invited him to help rearrange the kitchen.

So he'd gone to the diner instead, not wanting to haunt the bookshop or library again, as that was what he did if he didn't work both shifts every day. He was sitting peacefully enough, people watching, occasionally muttering a comment to himself, when his order was brought to him. Looking down, he was happy to see his waffles there, but something horrifying quickly dragged his attention away from the breakfast food. 

Coffee was in his mug. Coffee. The product of coffee beans. The root of all evil. Coffee. The sight was enough to make Thatcher yelp, backing away from his setting at the bar top quickly, so fast that he accidentally somehow managed to knock a bottle of maple syrup all over the person next to him. "Help!"

[thatcherwicket]

Flavor (inspired by x)

Of Thatcher’s many qualities, one that always stands out is his indecisiveness. He’s never been good at picking much of anything, and when he does, chances are he’ll change his mind at least five or six times. Important decisions he can make, but when it comes to small things, like his favorite flavor of tea, or which shirt to wear, it can take him hours and multiple people to help pick which. He’d never cared too strongly over which of the little things he got, more than happy with whichever he receives. It’s just a matter of having to choose for himself that causes him more stress than joy.

[thatcherwicket]

Keep Calm and Drink Tea || Diana and Thatcher

[nevra-erdogan-deactivated202107]

Diana smiled, strolling into the quaint shop. She glanced up at the menu. “Can I just get a simple mint tea?” She asked with a smile, looking at the man. Her eyes wandered around the room. “Woah, you’d almost think this place wasn’t hit by the earthquake at all.”

[thatcherwicket]

"Sure," Thatcher grinned at the request. He had a kettle sitting on the counter, and turned it on to heat the water again, setting it to the ideal temperature for a mint tea before getting the blend and scooping some into an infuser, which he dropped in a teacup he'd had sitting beside the kettle. He just needed the water to heat, now. "Uh huh," he nodded, "we worked hard to fix it up. And it wasn't hit too bad at all. Did your places last okay?" This was Maddie's friend. He didn't know if she worked somewhere, or where she lived, but hopefully none of it had been hit.