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xxxxxThe bay window beside this door is filled with brightly colored tapestries, candles, dreamcatchers, crystals, and a little wooden altar with seasonally rotating decorations. This window is truth in advertising, as the inside of the shop looks much the same, if /slightly/ better organized. The entire space is suffused with a powerful melange of pleasant scents: herbs and books and essential oils. One entire wall is taken up by candles from plain, solid-colored sticks to fragrant jars covered in fantasy art. One corner is packed with hundreds of jars of dried herbs, and near it are brightly lit glass showcases full of semi-precious stones and symbolic jewelry. Between these sit several rows of tall bookshelves crammed with volumes of ancient magical lore and modern occult manuals alike.
xxxxxThe other side of the store is slightly less busy: a counter with registers (perennially buried in knick-knacks and charms and the like), a small cafe serving locally roasted coffees, locally brewed kombucha, and a rotating selection of teas and herbal tisanes. The back of the cafe has a curtained-off area for divination by the Amazing Lala, who plays up her 'Gypsy Witch' gimmick just enough to seem ironically kitschy.
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- Mutants are certainly welcome to patronize this store -- almost a little too welcome. From both employees and a lot of their frequent clientele alike, the typical attitude towards known or obvious mutants is kind of creepily fetishizing; mutants are often treated like some kind of extra-special exotic curiosity, asked a million overly-invasive questions, requested demonstrations of their powers, treated to lengthy theories of how mutants are secretly angels/deities/spirits/deeply in touch with the natural energies of the world, and generally completely dismissed and ignored if they try to get a word in edgewise about how they might feel about any of this.
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