Dedicate Rosethorn (
roseshavethorns) wrote in
lastvoyageslogs2015-11-23 01:12 pm
[Woman of Good Repute]
Who: Aunt Rose and OPEN
Where: Salvation Apothecary, about town
When: All but the last couple days-ish of the breach
What: Before You Get Bumrushed wild west breach
Warnings: TBA
Even with an influx of new faces in town, Rose Shelby feels no need to advertise her own business. The locals know both where to find her and of her reputation for being very, very good, both at mixing medicines and at midwifery, when it's called for. As for the newcomers, well, it's no skin off her nose if they're daft enough not to know what to make of her little storefront, right in the middle of downtown with its sign declaring Salvation Apothecary, and a pictogram of a mortar and pestle for those poor sods who never learned to read.
She does, however, immediately start to stock up on hangover cures and balms for cuts and bruises. Strangers in town, in her lengthy experience, mean more drinking and more fighting. And lucky for her customers, she grows as much of her herbs as she buys or trades from local farms, traders, or orders from back east, so her shelves typically stay quite well-supplied.
To most of the town, she's Aunt Rose, though she's only a blood aunt to one Thomas Shelby. A gentle way, perhaps, of avoiding the fact that she's a lifelong spinster, now well past her marriageable years. It's one of the things she likes about the west - being a single woman of her age, and a shop proprietor at that - would make her something of a pariah among those with more sensitive constitutions in the cities. Here, people see her skills before her skirts.
She's a small woman, and fierce, with her fingers on the pulse of the community. She finds ways to get her medicine to those who can't afford it, and aids Pastor Boyd's charity ventures quite frequently. She even takes in strays with some frequency.
And when some of those strays have a criminal history - or when the topic turns to her beloved nephew's "business ventures," for that matter - well, she's always sure she has no idea what folks are talking about.
When she's not behind the counter at her shop, she can be found about town, visiting friends and clients or catching up on news with the neighbors. It's not uncommon for her to bring her nephew a lunch so he has something that isn't drunk or smoked, nor is anyone surprised when she gets in heated arguments with the town doctor on a regular basis.
Where: Salvation Apothecary, about town
When: All but the last couple days-ish of the breach
What: Before You Get Bumrushed wild west breach
Warnings: TBA
Even with an influx of new faces in town, Rose Shelby feels no need to advertise her own business. The locals know both where to find her and of her reputation for being very, very good, both at mixing medicines and at midwifery, when it's called for. As for the newcomers, well, it's no skin off her nose if they're daft enough not to know what to make of her little storefront, right in the middle of downtown with its sign declaring Salvation Apothecary, and a pictogram of a mortar and pestle for those poor sods who never learned to read.
She does, however, immediately start to stock up on hangover cures and balms for cuts and bruises. Strangers in town, in her lengthy experience, mean more drinking and more fighting. And lucky for her customers, she grows as much of her herbs as she buys or trades from local farms, traders, or orders from back east, so her shelves typically stay quite well-supplied.
To most of the town, she's Aunt Rose, though she's only a blood aunt to one Thomas Shelby. A gentle way, perhaps, of avoiding the fact that she's a lifelong spinster, now well past her marriageable years. It's one of the things she likes about the west - being a single woman of her age, and a shop proprietor at that - would make her something of a pariah among those with more sensitive constitutions in the cities. Here, people see her skills before her skirts.
She's a small woman, and fierce, with her fingers on the pulse of the community. She finds ways to get her medicine to those who can't afford it, and aids Pastor Boyd's charity ventures quite frequently. She even takes in strays with some frequency.
And when some of those strays have a criminal history - or when the topic turns to her beloved nephew's "business ventures," for that matter - well, she's always sure she has no idea what folks are talking about.
When she's not behind the counter at her shop, she can be found about town, visiting friends and clients or catching up on news with the neighbors. It's not uncommon for her to bring her nephew a lunch so he has something that isn't drunk or smoked, nor is anyone surprised when she gets in heated arguments with the town doctor on a regular basis.

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He squares up to the counter, his long arms braced against it, and leans forward, scrutinising behind the counter with wild eyes.
"Horrible day, isn't it, Miss Shelby? I need Turkish tobacco, supplies for the synthesis of protoxide of nitrogen, enough foxgloves to poison a large dog, and another pot of that wonderful apple jam you used to make if you have any left over."
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She pulls out a little jar of ammonium nitrate. "And I don't sell lab equipment. See one of those machine-making fellows for that. May I ask whose large dog you plan on poisoning, Dr.?"
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"Well, nobody's dog, ideally," he says, brightening up. "I've always been very fond of dogs. No, it's other properties of Digitalis I'm interested in." His eyes briefly darken. "Did Iris or one of her gaggle ever tell you about my hearts?"
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Salvation isn't tiny, but it's not a big town, either, and Tommy can find time for her most days. Today, he's come to her place, carrying some biscuits and tea leaves he got off someone who was passing through. He hops up on her counter, rings the bell obnoxiously, and yells-
"Time to get your nose out of the fucking mortar!"
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Rose steps from the back, wiping her hands on a clean towel. "You dragged yourself from your horses for me? Should I be flattered or worried, dear boy?" She leans forward, patting his cheek fondly.
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"I can't just have missed you, Rose?"
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"Got any rose leaves or mountain daisy in?"
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He manages not to blush at the way she looks at him but it's a near thing. He knows what most people think of him. Most people don't think much of Indians or half-breeds. It's why he stays to the outskirts of town when he can
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"Mornin', Miss Shelby! Your delivery came in."
He's been here not even a month and has decided that Aunt Rose is an intimacy he hasn't really earned yet - but he attaches no judgement to the Miss, having some fairly strong feelings about the right of a woman to remain unwed if it's better for her than the alternative might prove to be.
He eases the door shut with that same toe, so it doesn't slam.
"Where can I set this down?"
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"Here, let's set it on this stool so I can unpack it." Given the nature of her orders, she does like to check immediately to be sure everything's arrived clean, dry, and exactly as she requested.
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She genuinely enjoys visiting the apothecary. Aside from the fact that it smells simply wonderful inside the shop, she is always glad to see Rose. She's a feisty little woman who knows her own mind and Venus admires that.
"Hello, Miss Rose. How are you today?"
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Either way, she gestures for the taller woman to take a seat as she heads back to the counter.
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Today, Nina has decided that if Rose has taken responsibility for making sure Tommy eats, she can make sure Rose does. To that end, she brings a basket by with coffee, fresh cornbread, and cheese from the general store, a few slices of meat pie, and two little wrapped molasses puddings. "I thought we could have lunch together," she offers as she sets the basket on the counter. "Are you free?"
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She's still not entirely sure what to make of the girl. Thomas adores her, of course, but she can't shake the worry that a woman who'd knowingly get involved with a man with her Thomas's business connections might be here for more than just love.
But Nina's a sweet girl, and Rose does like her. She hopes she's fretting for nothing.
"Let me lock up and put the lunch hour sign out. If you'd like, there's the table in the kitchen?" She gestures to one of the rooms back behind her counter.
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He smiles almost immediately when he steps in, pleased to see her in the first place, and then more so when it's obvious she's alone, which means they'll have more time to talk.
"Afternoon, Aunt Rose. Hope I'm not disturbin' you."
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"Are you a customer today?" She looks him over, instinctively checking for signs of ill health, though he's been much hardier in recent years.
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Luna - resident undertaker - pops up in front of Rose Shelby's counter, eager and interested in what she considers to be her mortal counterpart.
"Only, I've had a man die last week with the most luxurious locks. I'm sure you could craft a good wig out of it, if you were looking to buy."
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"How fortuitous. How did he die, then? Religious man? Left any sort of will?" The usual questions. She didn't deny the usefulness of cadavers in the medical business, but she refused to touch any person whose legal documents or sensibilities forbade the act.
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It's why when she comes over to see about those repairs Tommy mentioned, she looks calm and pleased to be there, rather than a little ghoulish and irate.
She knocks on the doorframe, and pokes her head in.
"Rose?"
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"Furiosa, come in. Something I can help you with?"
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She used to see him a lot more: he practically raised Gene, who was always much too sickly to be out this far from civilization, but somehow between the two of them that boy made it to adulthood. Now after he checks in with Gene, Dean always lets his distinctive but aging black mare carry him to this particular store front, always has a bit of money left over to spend on something here. It benefits the both of them, and he always enjoys speaking with her.
"Good afternoon, Aunt Rose," he calls as he steps in the door, leaving his mare at the trough outside.
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It wasn't as simple as that. No, Stephanie had taken it upon herself to patrol the streets, in ways she could never do by the light of day. All of Barbara's ranting and lecturing left her completely unmoved; she hadn't been this stubborn since she discovered her mother's own secret.
It's hardly fair, really, because goodness knows Barbara had been tempted towards this very thing time and again, and she had taught her daughter some basic means of self defence. She ended up sewing up the tears in her suit and treating her wounds as best she could.
Now, she's at Rose's apothecary for more supplies.
Her smile is rueful as she steps inside. "Newcomers keeping you busy, Rose?"
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Or perhaps she's more in tune to difficult children than most, given her own boy. "Hangover cures, splints, and nasty cuts to clean. All to be expected with strangers in town. You?"