Ribbons and fabric and bows, oh my! [private]

As they wove their way through the clusters of people outside of the store, Esther’s eyes were drawn to the threads of the living.

White and tightly wound. These people were safe from death’s demise -- but for how long was anybody’s guess.

All the people in the world have threads. And every single one of them will run out of time. And every thread must be cut, there are so many threads to be cut, do any of them worry about this --

“How many things do you think we can buy?” said Lorelei, and this shook Esther out of her thoughts. Her teammate seemed boundlessly energetic; enthusiastic about this trip. She talked of buttons and fabrics and a portable iron, English bleeding into German and speech weaving between the two languages, and at the last item Esther resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was a near miss.

“I think we can buy as much as we want… within reason,” she said, expression as neutral as she could bear to keep it. But then she thought of the iron -- as ridiculous as the prospect was -- and let out a small scoff, tossing a dangling end of her scarf back over her shoulder. “But... a wrinkled cuff or sleeve sound like the least of our worries. Practicalities first. We will buy what we need... or rather, what we came here to buy and then… and then we can go about seeking other things. Yes.”

The doors swept open as though in welcome, and a gust of warm air whooshed out from the entrance, sending Esther’s scarf wavering. She counted her blessings; an immediate one being that the chill of early autumn wouldn’t hound them past the doors of the shop. Under their feet, cement transitioned to cheap ridged carpeting, and then, after another set of automated doors, into (mildly scuffed) tile. And then they were there, beholding many shelves and colorful items.

The craft store was by no means grand (perhaps Esther had gotten used to grand, having lived in HQ), but she found herself quietly marvelling all the same. The store reeked of wood and clay and faux flower dyes, and despite the less-than-posh nature of the place, there was so much to be seen --

… But there wasn’t all the time in the world to marvel. She had no idea when her phone would buzz with an incoming reap order (though it would hopefully be later, rather than sooner). Standing dazzled at a few aisles of craft supplies seemed like a waste of freedom.

And yet she was determined to enjoy this (perhaps some of Lorelei’s avidity was rubbing off on her, though she couldn’t truly say). After swiping a small basket from the store entrance, she turned back to her teammate.

“Lorelei.” A pause. “That magazine you’re holding, did you… did you find anything that caught your interest?”

Esther wondered if it was fabrics. She hoped it was fabrics (a bit selfishly, perhaps -- she wanted to make sure that their actual shopping was done before they began looking at other things). But whatever it was, it didn’t matter.

So long as it’s not the portable iron, I suppose. Tch.

She tapped the toes of her boots against the linoleum and waited for an answer, idly gazing around while she still had the time to do so.