It's Easy Being Green

               Lower Trades, Early Afternoon

It's a bright and warm day, making all the metalwork in the Lower Trades shimmer in brief blinding reflections. The noise is a constant stream of metallic clangs and trotting of wheeling carts to and fro.

Amongst all of this is a small general goods store, which a teenaged human girl slips out the front door of, wiping a bead of sweat off of her forehead. She makes a show of tossing a pouch into the air and snatches it, the bag clinking softly. "Maybe I shouldn't call Dad's bluff next time," she grumbles to herself before one of those carts wheel on by. A gobber hauling some kind of small assortment of plants and compounds. And many fuses.

Her fatigue expelled, she jogs after the cart, grinning to herself. "Greko! Hold up!" she yells.

This can't be good.

The trades district is another place to explore, and is a bit more Bryn's style than the more 'fancy dandy' places east and higher up. Goblintown is even more interesting. She exits from the excess of gobbers and back to more of an event mixture; not that she has anything against gobbers. The one coming generally towards her on the cart is noticed, so she takes a few steps aside to make way. The cart is bigger than her, afterall. It could also be more unstable, combustible, and/or reckless than she (and that is saying more than one might expect).

As she waits for it to pass, she spies a familiar face running after. A hand is lifted in greeting, though she doesn't immediately interrupt whatever business she might have with the gobber. It's probably important.

Greko stops as he's being hailed, the middle aged and pale green gobber craning his head up and around the cart. "Wuh?"

Cynthia zips by Bryn. "Hi!" Before skidding to a halt next to the Oruch and Greko. "Hi Greko! Did you just get back from the docks? Did you restock? My grandparents were wondering if you had more ginger root for the store?"

"He scratches at his balding head. "Well, yes, I gots that, is that really all that-"

"Alsodoyouhavemore triputine powder and silciates?" she rattles off, bouncing on her feet.

Greko stares before narrowing his eyes. "... why?"

"I wanna make SMOKEBOMB!" she enthuses. "And make it PINK!"

Bryn recognizes the root... or at least knows what a root is. The rest of the things Cin asks about don't make much sense to the oruch, causing her to blink. It's not until Cin explains just what the exotic ingredients are for that Bryn understands. That sounds dangerous. It sounds like something Warrick might not be too thrilled about.

That leads Bryn to walk towards Cynthia and the now-stopped cart. "A pink smokebomb?" She eyes Cin a moment, looking both curious and a bit dubious. Then she looks to Greko. "Ye got enough o' that stuff ta make more'n one?" Because it also sounds like fun.

Greko is about to refute Cynthia's request, but Bryn makes his attention go in another direction. Sales. "... why yes, I do. Enough to make a handful of the pellets easily. Or several sticks. Depends on what you're wanting."

"Cynthia grins up at Bryn before turning back to Greko, pumping her fists. "I wanna make the pellets to try!"

He turns to Bryn. "I can make either or for you. Unless you want it pink, then you'd want Cynthia to do it. I can easily sell the materials for it though," he rubs his hands together.

Bryn thinks about it for a second. Well, maybe half that. Not even enough time to look at Cin's fistpumping. Not directly. "Alright," she offers up some coin. "we'll take the stuff to make a couple handfuls of pellets. Stuff for the pink, and stuff for some other colors, too." Nothing against pink, but variety is the spice of life. Besides, there's nothing wrong with furthering local businesses and encouraging creativity in today's youth.

There's not even another thought as coin is exchanged, and several bags are changed hands, both from Bryn and Cynthia as the teen girl has several bags and pouches of different things. And a wide grin. "Thanks!"

Greko waves a hand off, turning his cart to stop by the store Cynthia just left. "Yes yes, just don't tell your father where you got it is all."

Cinny blows air out. "Pbbbff. I don't know what you're talking about."

Greko taps the side of his head before going inside the general store.

Cynthia half turns down a cramped alleyway. "Come follow me! I got a little spot behind the store to work on stuff! Thanks again! What colors you want?" she rattles off, wanting to skip but too weighed down to do so.

"Right behind ya!" Bryn didn't need told twice. She's already thinking of the imminent excitement. "Red. Red's good. Maybe some green ones, too?" She's slowed a bit in the alley; not by being weighed down, but having to deal with the narrow, cramped confines. "Where'd ya learn ta make this stuff? Sounds handy!"

The duo spill out behind a larger alleyway, though behind the general store is a picketed fence that Cynthia steps over, getting into a small patch of grass with a couple of chairs that sit next to a back door, as well as a long workbench that has some glass tubes, a burner, and other simple tools of the trade. "Well, I sorta learned a little in school," she says, carefully placing the bags on the ground. "Just small stuff, things for like tummy aches and headaches. But I got a book from the Althean temple that shows you how to make a lot of other things. And, well, I got lots of friends in Goblintown so they showed me some stuff."

She gets a handful of some rough grey rock before dumping it in a mortar, her articulating with the pestle. "So just like, um, blend it all together and see what happens?" she shrugs. "I dunno what I'm doing half the time. All I really know how to make is like, hang over cures."

Bryn is glad to move into the larger space, and her intake of breath is audible as if she might've been holding it before. She looks at all the fancy equipment as she listens. Then bushy brows lift up. "Gobbers're good folk to know. They know all kinds of shite." Then she looks at the pestle and shrugs. "Um, sure? You're the expert at this stuff. 'Specially if those hangover cures work. Might need to learn some of those, or buy 'em from ya. Hit the taverns hard, too, huh?"

Cynthia starts to grind ingredients down to powder. "Yuh, they are. Living next to Goblintown is honestly really cool. Good food, good explosions, fun times!" Powder gets moved into a beaker, another compound is dumped into the mortar. She scratches her head with the pestle, smearing grey on the side of her face, as she furrows her brows. "Eh, I'm too young for that. I tried ale once without Dad knowing, I /really/ didn't like that. But Dad and his guard friends says the cures work, so," she shrugs.

She sets the work aside, messing with a dial on a burner. "So uh, I guess you go to taverns a lot? I only really go for the food. Or Dad takes me sometimes when we don't feel like cooking."

Bryn ahhs at the explanation of the cures then chuckles about the food and explosions. The work Cin does intriguing and interesting to watch, even if Bryn's not very ..crafty, herself. "Ye, I like the taverns. Like to drink, like to eat. Not much for cookin 'less its something ya can stab with a stick and hold over the fire. Rats, scorpions, the sort."

Cynthia turns the dial more, before pressing a button as there's a spark and a tiny 'whoosh' of flame as a lamplight is set ablaze on the burner. She puts the beaker on it. "I like eating too," she grins. "I can sorta cook, whatever Dad showed me. We take turns on who makes dinner. Scorpions are really good. Goblintown's got a lotta fun things to try."

She resumes grinding. "Least its something to do, going into Goblintown. When Dad is out, I'm sorta all over the place trying to fill the free time."

"Ooh!" Fire. Bryn ain't a goblin, but that doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate it. "Eatin's important! Need it ta get big 'n strong! And stay breathin." Which are both important. Though other things, are, too.

"Da's out alot, eh? I get that. Mine was out lots. Mum, too. Lots of huntin, raidin, scroungin. Didn' have a goblin town or any town ta keep me busy, though. Ye got it good."

Cynthia giggles, seeing as the simple burner got that kind of reaction. She adds some kind of clear liquid to the beaker, it turning into a smoky grey color with a 'paff'. "Well, that's true. Mom wasn't very tall, so I don't think I'm going to be the 'big' part, but I getcha!"

She bobs her head, giving Bryn a side eye. "Mmm. Well, he didn't really do all that. Raiding maybe? But like, the opposite. Defending against it? Hunt sometimes." She gives a little shrug, looking down at her work, black hair obscuring her face. "Yeah, I guess so. Depends. Least I'm not going hungry or anything. I get kinda bored sometimes. So I kind of just do whatever looks interesting."

Bryn lets out a snicker at Cynthia and accompanies it with a friendly pat at her shoulder. "Ye, don' think yer folks 'n mine woulda got along so great; only thing similar'd be bein gone alot. But not so much now, right? Seems your da's around way more, now. An yer right: better bored 'n hungry. Don' need food to fix bored. There's always somethin to do."

She watches the stuff change color as she adds more stuff to it. "Like making stuff." Which she's not very good at. "Or breaking stuff." Which she might be better at.

GAME: Warrick rolls 1d20: (9): 9

The pat seems to reassure Cynthia, her looking up and smiling a bit. "Yeeeah, I don't think so, heh." She pulls out some yellow looking powder from one of the purchased materials, before getting a scoop and adding it to the flask. It immediately turns green, with a faint green and scentless smoke rafting from it. "Ooooh. But, yeah. He's around more, but he's also gone for longer. Had like guard shifts and stuff where he'd be home. Or when he was in the military, he'd have set times he'd be home. But now its when those jobs post, sometimes he's gone for a really long time, like a week or so. But it's okay. He stays for a long while when he gets back."

She bobs her head, the smile turning to a grin. "Oh I love breaking stuff, like-" she turns, bumping the dial on the burner. Which makes the flames go bright. The beaker bubbles and blurbles before, "-oh man-"

>FLOOMPF!<

A massive cloud of green erupts out of the beaker, jetting past the two and dissipating through the back alley.

Cynthia blinks, then turns to face Bryn. The entirety of her front is caked green. Slate eyes blink owlsihly. Before she bursts into laughter.

Bryn grins wide back at Cynthia's grin and comment. "Ye! I lo-" And then there is an 'ohmanFLOOMF'. Bryn blinks as the cloud dissipates, showing a non-green spot on herself again. Admittedly, she was mostly green before, but now its much more uniform.. at least on the side closest to the beaker. She takes one look at Cynthia and the girl's laugh is more than enough to trigger her own deep laughter. "Cousin!" she manages to get out, pointing a finger at her. Cin did say she likes to break things and is now green! There may not be many qualifications to being oruch-adjacent.

Cynthia wheezes, pointing back at Bryn. "Cousin!" she fires back, laughing and coughing as powdery green flakes off of her clothes and skin.

After a moment to collect herself, she leans against the workbench. "Well! *cough* That sorta works! That's going to be fun to make! And.. clean!"

Bryn's laughter switches briefly to coughing after she inhales some of the flaking power shaking off from her hair. At least it doesn't seem to stain? Much? After clearing her lungs, she bends over to vigorously shake her head to help get rid of more. Bryn waits for it to settle a little lower before chuckling. "Eh, that's what the bath place or the river's for, right? Ain't too hard to wash off." Though turning baths (or river?) green might be a bit conspicuous.

"Sides, that's what it's s'posed ta do, right? Make a big cloud o' smoke? Seems it worked just fine ta me!"

Cynthia snickers, dusting her shirt off. "Oh for sure, I'm prolly jus' gonna head home to wash off. But- not right now! No point in washing off if its gonna blow up again!"

She grins. "Yep! Now I just have to make it not explode just yet! If want to hang around, there's some chairs right there! But no guarantees about you staying the same color for a little while!"

She empties out the beaker, and remakes the solution, this time with a new color: purple. This was going to be a messy day.