Misfits had been trading in this small city on the banks of a river in the American Bible Belt for about five years now. The sole proprietor, one<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Filarge.lisimg.com%2Fimage%2F5507039%2F740full-krysten-ritter.jpg&amp;hash=16d70dd1d7305e4e5724b6dd0f5bea21" href="http://ilarge.lisimg.com/image/5507039/740full-krysten-ritter.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"> Andrea McCall</a>, clearly ran the shop more as a hobby than anything else. She was obviously independently wealthy, as when she had arrived in town, she had bought a large house on the edge of town that was nearly derelict, paid cash up front, and then had renovated it in a matter of weeks to be a home many of the neighbourhood's residents were envious of.<br/><br/>She had also purchased a modest sized retail unit in one of the busy commercial areas of the city, and had fitted that out as well. Those people who took the time to get to know her, said she was charming, friendly, gracious and generous. But the nature of her business, not to mention her attire and the way she seemed to attract young people, turned the majority of the Christian Right wing against her.<br/><br/>Misfits was outwardly a gift shop, but the gifts Andrea stocked were generally on the fantasy side - dragons, fairies, wizards and witches, castles, goblins and ogres... Statuettes in a range of materials from resin to bronze, and in sizes from a couple of centimetres to almost a full metre for the most expensive. Along with those there were birth stones, amulets, crystals and costume jewellery. Behind the gift area was a section selling books, dealing with a diverse range of subjects from herbalism to the occult, pagan gods to Christianity, witchcraft to alternative medicine, and a small section of selected fantasy and science fiction.<br/><br/>Upstairs, towards the front of the shop was a large area dedicated to teenage clothing - mostly girls' cloths and mostly in the various Goth styles. Towards the rear of the shop was something that resembled a cross between a coffee lounge and a youth club. Comfortable chairs and sag-bags littered the room, there was a drinks vending machine that sold coffee, tea, hot chocolate and soup, and another vending machine that sold brand-name snacks and cold drinks. While the brand-name stuff was always available and a lot cheaper than elsewhere, the hot drinks were free, and really good quality. The lounge area was called "The No 'Bad' Zone", labelled as such in big letters, with a sign under it listing what was 'bad'.<br/><br/>And over it all, Andrea presided. She dressed mostly in comfortable, form-hugging clothes of black or red, and was about as easy-going as any adult could be.<br/><br/>And so of course the bible-thumpers had labelled her "Witch". With the current laws regarding religious freedom in the USA, they were unable to actually have her arrested and burned at the stake. Witchcraft per-se is not actually illegal. Sacrificing virgins to The Horned God - that is illegal.<br/><br/>Andrea answered her critics - when she bothered to pay them any attention at all - by laughing. "Seriously?" She had said on the local television news, "A witch? Really! What sort of person actually believes in witchcraft, in this day and age? I ask you! Next thing you know they'll be saying that Santa Clause and The Easter Bunny are real!" And yet, the rumours persisted.<br/><br/>A police raid on her premises, following an "anonymous tip-off", found only perfectly legal herbal remedies (many of which actually worked), and a small quantity of Peyote that she kept locked in a safe for sale to Native Americans for religious purposes.<br/><br/>Oddly, one of the police officers who was on the raid was a member of one of the local evangelical churches. Andrea spotted him putting his hand in his pocket an pulling out a pack of white powder. She immediately drew the attention of the sergeant leading the raid, the officer was suspended and later arrested and charged.<br/><br/>And now, on a particular Saturday morning, Andrea was getting ready to go and open the shop. And she had decided the time was right to take on an apprentice.<br/><br/>"Are you sure?" Gwendolen Morgan asked her. "Are you certain she's the one?"<br/><br/>"Yep. Absolutely." Andrea replied. "Gwen, she's absolutely perfect. I know in my bones, she's the right choice."<br/><br/>"She's a klutz, She trips over her own feet, she's dropped out of high school to annoy her parents, she's ill disciplined..."<br/><br/>"And what was I at that age? All those things and more. And yet you chose me, trained me, and look at me now!" Andrea did a little twirl in her kitchen and knocked over her coffee cup. Fortunately it was empty. She caught it before it could roll off the table.<br/><br/>"Still a klutz!" Gwendolen sniggered.<br/><br/>Andrea glared at her, then shrugged. "Anyway, Gwen, she's my choice. And that's final."<br/><br/>Gwen laughed - or more accurately, cackled. "On your head be it, sugar!"<br/><br/>Andrea shook her head. Her mentor was always full of advice, but Andrea was headstrong and stubborn. And she knew that her choice was correct. Kaileigh O'Sulivan was to be her apprentice. Of course, the tricky part might be convincing Kaileigh of that...!<br/><br/>At the shop, Andrea Found the sign she had made yesterday, waited until she saw Kaileigh coming towards the shop, and popped it into a prominent place in the window:<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><b><span style="font-size: 22px"><u>HELP WANTED</u></span><br/>
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<i>Apply Within</i></b>​</div><a class="username" data-user-id="1399" data-username="@Lethia" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1399/">@Lethia</a>