Orchid Quinn - The Unseen Leaves of Fate (Patreon)

In the dimly lit, absurdly cluttered room that reeked of damp cardboard and questionable decisions, Orchid Quinn found herself pondering the bizarre twists of fate that had led her to this precise moment. With her unruly hair forming a chaotic halo around her head and her glasses perpetually perched at the edge of her nose, she was the picture of disarray. But, oh, she was endearing.

Orchid, with no shred of psychic ability to her name, had successfully masqueraded as a fortune teller at ‘Mystique & Mischief’, the most notoriously dubious funfair in London. Little did the awestruck visitors know, the shabby tents and neon signs were just a whimsical facade for the London mafia’s more clandestine operations. The fortune telling tent, with its worn-out carpets and flickering lights, was Orchid’s realm of faux mysticism.

Having successfully escaped the dreadfully dull life of a trainee accountant, Orchid found herself entangled in the world of organised crime. But not just any organised crime – the most British variant you could imagine. The London mafia, with their inexplicable obsession with tea and their strangely bureaucratic approach to crime.

As she sat amidst her collection of sci-fi memorabilia and dog-eared fantasy novels, Orchid began to pen her weekly column for ‘The Underworld Brew’, a magazine so aggressively ordinary that it could only be a front for money laundering. The publication's ties to the mafia were as subtle as a sledgehammer, but Orchid, with her head in the clouds, was blissfully ignorant.

Soon, her charming ineptitude and her uncanny ability to reference Star Wars in fortune telling had caught the attention of the mafia’s radio station, ‘Tea Time Transmissions’. In a bizarre twist of fate, she had landed a guest spot on their sinisterly addictive lifestyle show, ‘Cuppa Conundrums’. Orchid was on air, and London was listening.

Little did she know, her quirky fortunes were now being broadcasted to the criminal underworld, serving as cryptic coordinates for tea smuggling operations. Orchid, with her distracted nature and her penchant for shiny things, was blissfully unaware of the gravity of her words.

But as she sat there, pen in hand and tea at the ready, a sliver of realisation began to creep in. Had she bitten off more than she could chew? Was her tea addiction, her crippling weakness, leading her down a dangerous path?

Orchid Quinn, with her ridiculous charm and her complete lack of fortune telling talent, was in over her head. And she hadn’t seen it coming. Not one bit.