Hey to both of my readers!
My Landlord fella introduced me to this fella, seemed like a nice fella and all, not the Landlord, I mean, and the fella said he knows something I should be knowing about the whereabouts of Madame B and where she might be, umm, abouts.
This fella, Patch, sez that Madame B. had him as a student every time.
Every time, what? I asked him.
“Call me Patch”, he sez. “Let me tell you about Madame B., she told me, every time, that she could teach me some useful aspects about magic. Why did you go to Madame B.? Anyways, you writing this down? Patch, P A T C H. I’m a pyrodiverseamancer. I can make flame in balls, spears, or sheets. And I can hold it in my hand.”
I watched RL careful and when he took a breath I jumped in with the question, “Does yer know where Madame B. is nowadays?”
“Nope. If I knew where she was I would have told that Landlord guy. What’s up with him anyway?” He looked thoughtfullishly up at the butterfly wings on my travelin’ caravan interviewin’ place, ”All I can really tell you is that every time I went to Madame B.’s school, she greeted me with "Ful, los hi dovahkiin?" asking if I am dragon-born, and with a twinkle in her eye that looked like bits of flame she would smile and I could smell burnt stone. So, dragons, I know she felt herself drawn to dragons.”
I wrote “dragons” on my scrap o’ paper. And iffn I accidental-like blows up a mountain range again, I’m plannin’ to tell the Landlord I’m pyrodiversified, which sounded like a talent, iffn you ask me.
I kinda felt Patch was onter a solid ground, definite maybe fer sure. So I thanked him with a free cube prim, looks like it is made outa the wood, but it’s not. One thing our family allays said was “Prims don’t grow on trees, they just look like they do.” Tryin’ ter get a prim ‘llowance outa my Gramps was like prying a Yak Tick outa a stampedin’ yak, left you trampled like.
“I’ll see you agin, I hope”, I fared him well, sumthin you say, y’know.
“Every time, Man, every time.” And he blinked out.
The grid owner, Miss Mari, she had interviewin’ees fer me too. One of them Miss Mari said, was an attendant in a magikal store, the one where I couldn’t find it ‘cause it weren’t there. Anymore, sort of thing. The ‘nother one, she worked in the magik as a designer. Not quite sure what that looks like as a job. Mayhaps makin’ the spells match the wand or sumthin’.
Next: “Hey Miss Bollister, Miss Mari tells me you attended a store of the magik?
“Yes. How may I help you?”
I showed her the picture of Madame B. and asked if she had seen her?
“Yes. How may I help you?”
“I guess I’za hopin’ you had some knowin’ of where Madame B. was livin’ or teachin’ or hanging out, sort of thing, like where I might find her. Be a real timesavin’ iffn you did.”
“I certainly did not pry into people’s lives when they visited the Magical Emporium. I feel the faux intimacy implied by asking questions about which I haven’t the faintest interest is a waste of everyone’s time.”
“About Madame B., then, yer didn’ ask about where she gets her ‘nother magikal items, meybe?”
“No, it wouldn’t do. Your Madame B. spent an inordinate amount of time perusing over Dragon Artifacts in the showcases, plus she went cover to cover through all of our Dragon Editions of the Emporium’s catalogue. I do suggest she has a keen interest in the beasts.”
I carefully wrote “dragon” on my scrap o’ paper just under the ‘nother “dragon”. I felt one o’ them inner smiles makin’ my face want to smile out there too. “Miss Bollister, may I offer you a Cube Prim what looks like wood ter thank yers fer yers time?”
“Tell Miss Mari I am pleased to help her, every time.” And she was gone.
More next: “Miss Aura, Miss Mari tells me you design magic.” And I waz tryin’ to brush some crumbs from my beard and act all
cognoscenty and such while I thought hard ‘bout some example what would be interesting’, ‘n all.
“I would like to think I had the skills to design magic. I imagine Mari referred to me as a magical designer; I design magical worlds for Opensim. It’s mostly a blend of archaic and obscure environments, symbols, eerie settings.”
“Does yer design with dragons?” I asked, afore holding my breath.
“I certainly do. Dragons are de rigueur.”
And she speaks French too, I thought. “Does yer know Madame B.? She loves the dragons too, maybe as de riguerously as you.”
Aura smiled, “I’m afraid I do not know her. However, I can suggest a few places she might go to study unusual dragons. Is that advice of interest?”
Well, gosh, YES! I inner-voiced. I carefully wrote down “dragon places” under “dragon” under “dragon” on my scrap o’ paper.
“I would be pleased as sunshine onna cat iffn you could help me out.” And I offered her TWO free cube prims what looks like wood fer her next project. She accepted them with a tilt of her head.
“I will send a note to Miss Mari with some ideas for you. Lovely to meet you; I must away,” Miss Aura smiled goodbye.
“Well, iffn you need more free cu…” And she was gone too.
Dragon … Dragon … Dragon places … I’m inter somethin’ Madame B. Feels right.