i don’t know if you know,
Elsie attempted to lift her staff from the now ruined brew; it was stubborn at first, nearly cemented in, but finally gave way, flinging tiny charred bits with her. Clodded dirt; why did everything
turn to clodded dirt when she messed up? Once, Cordelia had failed a synthesis, and her result was a lot of seeds. Cordelia got seeds, Elsie got dirt… a match made in heaven. She was told the result of a failed synthesis is a direct reflection on the alchemists’ soul, but something about that didn’t sit right, as true as it seemed. Elsie simply didn’t want to accept that her soul was made of plain, depressing, dry
dirt. She would’ve been more content with quicksand.
She quickly turned around, ready to shut the door and bolt it shut at this time… why was she still running as open
, anyway? No one was going to come, no one even knew she was here, or existed… Well, everyone except the tiny kid in front of her, who looked seventy pounds heavier with cold and snow; in an inadequate coat and toting a bunny toy with her. Nothing about her seemed particularly exceptional – just a little kid wandering around in the late evening, hardly dressed for the weather and without parents. Wait, without parents?
“What the hell is going on here?” Elsie bellowed, rushing right past the little girl. She leaned on the heavy wooden door until it closed against the elements, then tested the door knob… it held fast, they weren’t about to get blown out again; so it was the little girl who opened her door, and not the wind. There was a small satisfaction in that, as at least her house wasn’t made out of paper; at least not completely. The windows could rattle and shake as much as they wanted, just as long as the door didn’t come open again. With the door shut, Elsie was able to turn her failed-synthesis rage onto the little girl in full swing. It was always bad to lose a synthesis, especially when she was as far along as she was. Only another ingredient and she would’ve been done, but lo and behold that wouldn’t be happening today. Instead, she’d lose all those ingredients for absolutely no
benefit, no money to be made off of it. Reagents weren’t cheap, either.
“Seriously kid, what is going on here? I’m just minding my own damn business in my
own damn shop when you come pushing the door open like you own the goddamn place! Do you have any
idea what the hell you just did!? I lost a good couple thousand gold in that stupid cauldron now, and I have freakin’ DIRT
everywhere to clean up.” Her nostrils flared a little, “AND SNOW.” Grumbling, the woman turned back around, walking straight to her cauldron. She was still fuming, and what the hell was she supposed to do now? Suppose she’d just ignore the kid or something, maybe.
Elsie was ready to shovel the little girl straight out the door, maybe pick her up by her collar and boot her out in a classic cartoon reference, but this child only responded by trying to hide behind the sopping wet bunny toy she was carrying, stammering out a sad, cold little apology that never quite made it out. Elsie had only glanced over her shoulder to gauge if she was still here, and saw the sorry sight. It made her frown, grumble again and turn around… this little nugget wasn’t much older than a toddler, or maybe she was a toddler, she didn’t know the difference; she was so tiny and something was odd about her; not to mention that hiding-behind-the-bunny trick was so adorable that Elsie couldn’t help but crack the tiniest of smiles at her.
“Alright, Alright… Goddess help me,” she murmured, her voice much more quiet and subdued. She approached the girl slowly, hands in front of her to negotiate peace. “Look, I’m really sorry… little… girl. I uhh… where are… your parents? Are you lost or something?” She was really floundering to fix this once again; Elsie made a mental note to try and reign in that temper sometimes. “…You look really cold. Here, let’s worry about all that in a second. Just, uh, there’s a blanket on the couch. Get that coat off and wrap yourself up tight. I’ll restoke the fire.” Pointing to the couch, she widened her eyes a bit, pursing her lips tight to signal Just do it, don’t fight with me,
to the girl. Then she turned back to the fireplace, shoving fresh wood back into the pit with the old. With a bit of fluid and the strike of a match (Elsie usually did this with a flash bomb, but she decided to play it safe with this kid), it was quickly roaring again and the room began to heat back up.
“Fuckin’ kids,” she murmured to herself as she worked, loud enough to (unfortunately) overhear. Standing back up, she rubbed her hands on her dress leaving two big black smudges across the fabric; she only looked at it a minute and shrugged, unaffected. “Alright kid, what’s going on here?”
but i found someone worth taking life a bit slow
(elsie boucher) w26 – evening – grace