One day in Carmina Gadelica
It isn't long after Lauren enters the Elixir Emporium that she leaves, a canvas bag slung around the dark imp's shoulder. For protection against that pesky sunlight, vizor shades have been cast and her wings wrap around her shoulders like a gauzy scarf. She lazily goes through the contents, counting her items, tossing her hair back and shaking one such ingredient in its box.
Goldenblade is walking through town, herself, and passes the Elixir Emporium on her way from one place to another. She offers a nod to the Imp exiting, and chuckles at her apparent delight with her purchase. "Got something nice?" she asks curiously, her own purchases making bulges in a sack that clanks.
A swirl of three-quarter inch sleeves sees Lauren presenting the box in her hand. Which is actually a glass cylinder with a tiny teardrop in the center. "Well," She begins, eyeing it suspiciously, "I selected mournful moonlight because I didn't /want/ to dye itself," she explains patiently, her gaze and the glass box on display. "But this looks like melancholia to me, don't you think? Nothing about this says 'mourning love."
You have asked the wrong girl for cosmetological advice, when asking Goldenblade, and she gives Lauren a completely blank look. "My wife might have known about that," she says with a chuckle, "But I have to say, I'll trust your judgement on the matter." She pretty clearly wears none, and if her face as the flush of the great outdoors and healthy exercise in huge amounts, there is no cosmetic involved. "Doesn't quite work with the bricklaying, anyhow," she confides with a wink.
Lauren listens closely, her dark gaze going from Goldenblade to the glass cube. "Oh, no, it's not for makeup," she says, laughing suddenly. "It's just dye for silk. I should like to catch someone's eye, maybe another patron, make some fast change," She says, sliding the box between her fingers until it falls back into the bag. "But. Bricklaying?" She asks, equally as confused now.
Goldenblade ohs, but finding it has to do with clothes really doesn't change her lack of expertise. "Ah, I see," she says when it's explained that it's a dye, and she suggests, "Maybe the dyed cloth turns a slightly different shade than what the material is?" Because that's a thing, on rare occasions. "I helped my kids tie-dye once for a school festival, and the yellow die made distinctly orange shirts." She shrugs, but as to bricklaying, she nods. "Fifty years on the job, just retired before the game started," she explains. Which would put her player, what, in her seventies?
Lauren looks absolutely and totally at a loss for words, and her shadow begins to exaggeratedly and pointedly begin to dance about. "Well," She says finally, "I find myself handy with earth magic in general. I mean it's not exactly my thing, but well-rounded in all the elements. Does that see much use in your profession?"
Goldenblade huhs? "Earth magic? Not at all, miss. We don't have access to Earth Magic in real life, though I'd swear some foremen must have thought so sometimes. Now I guess when we're building in the game, a bit of Earth Magic gets used. I don't bother much, to be honest." Though that's probably because she's advanced her construction pretty high, and she's known as the Eas Builder, Eas being the Olympus Alliance HQ site. As far as being well-rounded, she says, "That's good, at least. I'm a bit lopsided, elementally."
Lauren carries on, jocular enough to enjoy the company. "See, that's all I really wanted," She says, laughing quietly. "I. Wanted. Magic. And computer programming... sort of gave that to me," she says. "Sort of. I mean it's gorgeous but the idea of still making clothing and such for enchantment? Exasperating."
Goldenblade shrugs at the mention of magic. "You kids are all about the magic," she says with a smirk. "Magic this, magic that. And computer programming?" She shakes her head. Seems like she lumps that in the same category as magic. "But if you make clothes, that's a good trade. Lots of people want clothes." Though apparently not Goldenblade, whose attire was forged rather than sewn.
"Everyone loves clothing," Lauren says, watching Goldenblade from the side of her gaze. "When you reach into a warm kitchen sink after a long day, you want the /right/ rag, don't you?" She asks. "You know, the one that can scour anything from fingers or dishes or even pans. But when you want to dry, that rough material only moves water around." She slings the bag around a shoulder. "So you want that soft cotton. Everyone loves nice cloth."
Goldenblade may be the exception to everything in Lauren's life? "After a long day? I don't mind sinking into a tub, I guess, but I don't know about getting a dishrag. My wife generally did the dishes, up until close to the end, really." She sighs a bit. I guess I do my own dishes now, but I honestly don't think too much about dishtowels, sorry." She shrugs helplessly. "I mean, we've had a dishwashing machine since the late sixties, so that did most of the work."
"Mmm," Lauren says at the use of past-tense, narrowing her eyes in sympathy but choosing not to pursue the topic. "While it is real, I do like magic," She says, leting the sentence trail off.
Goldenblade sighs but lets that topic drop, nods about magic being real. "It is, I grant you that. It does things reliably, or as reliably as anything works in this game, and it's repeatable and consistent. It's almost like a real tning, only with weird gestures and phrases instead of movement and action."