Chapter 268 - Cat Business VII
Claire stifled a yawn as she watched the pens, coins, and papers change hands. The cat was nervous; her tail was straight, her fingers were shaking, and her back was as stiff as a board. She took extra care not to drop her copy of the enfeoffment as she carefully placed it in a wooden frame prepared well in advance. They had made their decision soon after they were shown the final property, but it wasn’t until another two days later that they finally signed the deal.
The delay was not caused by the usual haggling and feigned disinterest, but rather a third party’s involvement. There was no reason for Arciel to be present. She could have easily followed through on her offer of payment by way of a later reimbursement, but the squid had declared that she would take time out of her schedule to witness both the signing and grand opening. Her involvement had turned the otherwise simple process into a whole ordeal; the shadow mage had to sneak out of the castle without a guard and stealthily make her way through town by slinking from shadow to shadow.
“I was expecting a more expensive purchase,” said the queen in question, her lips twisted into a frown. The maid handling the cash, who the squid had effectively trafficked through the city, was far from relieved of her burden; the coin purse had lost only a fifth of its weight.
It was not the previous owner’s generosity that drove the low price, but rather the state of the building. Even with the dilapidated theatre requiring a thorough renovation, he upsold the land for the hefty sum of four gold coins, almost twice the market value of an empty lot. It wasn’t exactly a wallet-friendly price, but neither would it have weighed heavily on their finances, even without the squid footing the bill. Claire didn’t know the specifics, but she recalled seeing the cat rubbing her face against a sizable pile of gold just the previous night, when she thought that no one was looking.
“Yeah, I know, right!” said Sylvia. “I still think we should’ve gotten the one by the sea.”
“You just want to eat fish every day,” said Claire.
“Shhh! That’s supposed to be a secret!”
Arciel watched over the exchange with an amused grin, her fan propped up against her chin the whole while. “It has been far too long since I was treated to this dynamic.”
The statement was met, of course, with violence. Claire prodded her several times in the side before finally raising her perfectly deadpan voice. “We saw each other half a week ago.”
“We did,” said the witch, with a nod. “And that was half a week that I spent without any semblance of good company. There are few that would speak openly with me in the castle, and even fewer willing to do it in broad daylight.”
She made her best puppy-dog eyes, bending over and looking up at her friend with the cutest pout she could. But again, she was met with a prod.
“Because it undermines your authority,” Claire rolled her eyes. “Stupid squid.”
“Perhaps, but I would much rather deal with the consequences of that should they arise than spend my time all alone in a hostile palace.”
Claire shrugged. “Your fault for becoming queen. We could have assassinated her and been done with it.”
“It is not as if I had ever truly wanted the crown. I simply could not be so irresponsible as to allow my family’s nation to be swallowed by its neighbours.”
“Mmnnnn… maybe you can shove onto one of your cousins or something when Al’s done,” said Sylvia.
The squid sank into thought, lightly tapping her fan against her chin as she twisted her lips into a frown. “That is certainly an option I shall be considering. But their sanity remains in question. We shan’t know if it has been restored until their rehabilitation is complete.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Natalya walked across the property’s foyer and joined the group chatting by the door.
“Nothing important,” said Claire. “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” The cat raised the building’s deed with a shy smile and hid the bottom half of her face. “It’s all ours now.”
“Yours.”
“Ours,” said the cat, firmly. “I’ve put everyone else as co-owners. Maybe that way, you’ll be a little less inclined to run away.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Claire looked towards the previous owner, who was still chatting with the agent on the other side of the lobby. “Why are they still here?” From what she gathered from their conversation, their presence was entirely unnecessary. Their exchanges were centered around the recent news, with each offering his speculation and advice to the other.
“They should be leaving soon.” The cat smiled awkwardly. “They seemed really into it, so I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt them.”
“I can.” The reckless moose began walking over, but Lia grabbed her by the wrist before she could engage.
“It’s okay, Claire, relax,” said Lia. “It’s not like they’re causing us any harm.”
“We can’t renovate while they’re here. The stupid squid has to leave soon. We came up with some pretty good ideas last night, and this is her only chance to see them.”
“You did?” Lia tilted her head.
“Yeah!” chimed Sylvia. “Uhmmm, one sec, I got an idea actually…” She took a moment to focus on her surroundings, before casting her spell and forming a bubble around the unwelcome guests. “There! Done!” The fox nodded contently. “Now, they shouldn’t notice anything even if we start changing everything.”
“However did you manage that?” asked Ciel.
“Oh uhm, it’s simple really. I just made them immune to illusions for a while with one of my buffs.” She clapped her tiny hands together and grinned as she focused her eyes on the cat. “Do you wanna see one of the fun ones or the boring ones first?
“The fun ones, I guess?” said Lia.
“Mmk! One super fun whatever-the-heck-this-shop-is-supposed-to-be coming right up!”
The orange furball leapt onto the ground and twirled as a series of quick, upbeat notes escaped the depths of her throat. Though fast, they were deep, much lower than anything to be expected of a critter so small. The ringing vibrations resonated within the listener’s minds, numbing them as the scene was suddenly distorted. The building was replaced by what looked to be an ancient ruin. Its already half-destroyed walls transformed with piles of rubble stacked high, their gravity-defying structures possible only because of the magical letters inscribed into their frames. The roof retained its hole, wide enough to see the sky from anywhere in the building, and the fish tank was converted to a pool, a quaint wellspring with a series of stones placed around its perimeter. There was an artifact manning the front desk—an ancient golem with Boris’ face, built with lost technologies and armed with blasters and cannons.
“This is the first thing we came up with,” said the fox. “Oh and the golem thingy was Claire’s idea. It’ll ask the customers a riddle and start attacking them if they mess up.”
“Ignoring how awful that would be, is any of this even possible?” asked Lia, with a blink.
Sylvia put a hand on her chin. “Uhmmm… we probably can’t build it for real, but it’s not like it matters. We could just make it a permanent illusion zone thing.”
“I don’t know… It probably wouldn’t leave a good impression on our customers if we fiddled with their minds.” She paused for a moment before nodding. “Whatever we end up doing has to be possible even without any magic.”
“Oh, come on! That rules out like all the fun ones!” The fox puffed up her cheeks. “Normal buildings are boring.”
The illusion faded as she voiced her complaint; the runic stones faded back into wood, and the pool turned back into an ordinary glass box.
“I know they might be a bit bland, but they’re also genuine.” Natalya crouched down in front of the fox and lightly scratched her ear. “And I really want to sell the idea that we’re honest and reliable.”
Sylvia blinked a few times before tilting her head. “Doesn’t that mean having Claire help out is like, a really bad idea? She’s a total slimeball.”
“I am not,” huffed the princess.
“Yeah you are! Did you already forget about the time that you were pretending to help Dad’s friends even though you were working for Alfred? You literally tricked that weird purple guy whose name I can’t remember into letting you kill him!”
“Frederick. The goblin king.”
“Yeah, him! You basically made him so sad and disappointed and horrified that he gave up on life!”
Claire shrugged. “I didn’t see any other way to kill him. His skin was too tough.”
“See!” Sylvia pointed a paw at the accused. “She’s a total slimeball. She’s just gonna give people she doesn’t like bad advice so they end up dying somewhere!”
“T-that shouldn’t be a problem,” said Lia. “I was just going to ask her to be a receptionist and handle most of the consulting work myself.”
“If I may, I believe that to be just as ill-advised,” said the witch. “She will surely resort to violence in the case that she is tasked with dealing with an unreasonable customer.”
“The three of you do realise that I’m listening, right?” muttered the lyrkress.
“Yup!” said the fox.
“We know,” said the cat.
“Naturally,” said the squid.
In trying to defend herself, the moose was immediately met with a trio of accusing stares. She responded with her usual blank look, her eyes resting on each of theirs for a brief moment before she twisted her lips into a trembling pout. Her eyes started to water, and her hands shook as well, but she dismissed the act after looking around again and finding no one fooled.
“You’re all awful,” she said, with a more genuine pout. “What if I was really sad?”
“Then you’d probably be hitting us instead,” giggled Natalya.
“That is a scenario easily imagined,” said Arciel, “and felt as well,” as she moved a hand to her cheeks.
“Mmmnnn, I know it doesn’t really sound like her, but Claire actually gets pretty expressive when she’s down,” said Sylvia. “Like this one time, I kinda like, accidentally disappeared without saying anything, and sh—”
A hand was immediately plastered across the fox’s face, its owner’s eyes narrowed and screaming bloody murder.
“Another word out of you, Sylvia Redleaf, and I swear, I will make sure you never speak again.”
The words themselves were threatening, but the faint blush on her otherwise stoic face told a completely different story. Her tormentor could feel her lips twisting into a smug grin. For once, she was in control. And the sadistic strings in her heart were screaming at her to take full advantage.
“Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone about all the times you’ve spent clinging to me and crying.”
The vixen cackled, even as a bright red moose grabbed her by the neck and violently shook her back and forth; the minor brain trauma was well worth the resulting moment.
Similar interactions continued throughout the day, with Arciel staying until the group was able to settle on a design. In the end, they decided that renovation was pointless. The whole building was torn down and rebuilt as soon as the previous owner vacated the property. Where there was once an amphitheatre, the magical fox constructed a large, rectangular gymnasium. Massive rear end aside, the building’s facade was made into that of a tavern. It was a design shared by half the reception hall. There were tables and seats present for those sitting around, as well as a refreshment corner and a large blackboard. The idea was for it to eventually serve the same purpose as the city’s employment center, in the case that the shop ever grew popular enough to take on the role of curation. That last bit had been Arciel’s suggestion, and a fresh goal for the cat to work towards.
On the other end of the entrance hall was a large counter with several chairs placed behind it. Behind that was another layer of rooms. Some were warm, private spaces meant for foxnaps, sporting single beds, bathrooms, and nightstands, while others were kept cold, so that they could be used to store the various goods that the store planned to stock. There was even a sick bay at the far end. Natalya had reasoned that, with a training ground present, they required a medical facility for anyone that needed to rest and recuperate.
Sylvia was on staff as the resident healer and was in charge of taking care of whatever she determined to be a reasonable fix. Whether that metric was accurate, only time would tell, but Natalya had more confidence in her than the rest of the girls—and Boris for that matter—combined.
Finally, there were the shelves, where they would stock common goods for adventurers, and the massive counter used for reception and consulting. It was wide enough for multiple people to work it at once and extended directly into an underwater space. The clear glass tank, visible beneath the floor, was directly connected to both the arena and the canal in the street. It even had its own entrance, equipped with an added mechanism for the group’s only non-swimmer to lock it from above the water.
Both the aboveground space and the massive tank were modestly decorated, sporting a few weapons and artworks so as not to give the impression of poverty while also avoiding the bourgeoisie attitude inferred from a more expensive collection. The battleworn blades and hanging illustrations were fox-signed, with a vixen-shaped print pressed into the blades' tangs, and an equally fluffy signature carved into the paintings’ bottom right corners. The oil-based canvases she used looked ready to dissolve beneath the waves, but that was hardly anything a little extra magic couldn't easily fix.
As for the name, Lia had long decided on The Misguided Adventurers' Consulting Company. It was a little on the nose for Claire's taste and frankly far too long for any purpose—the adjective in the title was entirely unnecessary—but Natalya had insisted on keeping it, labelling the scheme something of a Paunsean tradition.
The signboard was one of the few things that Sylvia didn't make. She very well could have forged it with her magic, but Olga had already commissioned a local blacksmith to hammer it out. It would be another few days before he was finished; the elven metalworker in question was planning on crafting each letter individually so that they could be freely arranged at Natalya’s discretion. And it was only on said board that the group was still waiting.
Just a few more blinks, and the cat would be open for business.
Chapter 268 - Cat Business VII
Claire stifled a yawn as she watched the pens, coins, and papers change hands. The cat was nervous; her tail was straight, her fingers were shaking, and her back was as stiff as a board. She took extra care not to drop her copy of the enfeoffment as she carefully placed it in a wooden frame prepared well in advance. They had made their decision soon after they were shown the final property, but it wasn’t until another two days later that they finally signed the deal.
The delay was not caused by the usual haggling and feigned disinterest, but rather a third party’s involvement. There was no reason for Arciel to be present. She could have easily followed through on her offer of payment by way of a later reimbursement, but the squid had declared that she would take time out of her schedule to witness both the signing and grand opening. Her involvement had turned the otherwise simple process into a whole ordeal; the shadow mage had to sneak out of the castle without a guard and stealthily make her way through town by slinking from shadow to shadow.
“I was expecting a more expensive purchase,” said the queen in question, her lips twisted into a frown. The maid handling the cash, who the squid had effectively trafficked through the city, was far from relieved of her burden; the coin purse had lost only a fifth of its weight.
It was not the previous owner’s generosity that drove the low price, but rather the state of the building. Even with the dilapidated theatre requiring a thorough renovation, he upsold the land for the hefty sum of four gold coins, almost twice the market value of an empty lot. It wasn’t exactly a wallet-friendly price, but neither would it have weighed heavily on their finances, even without the squid footing the bill. Claire didn’t know the specifics, but she recalled seeing the cat rubbing her face against a sizable pile of gold just the previous night, when she thought that no one was looking.
“Yeah, I know, right!” said Sylvia. “I still think we should’ve gotten the one by the sea.”
“You just want to eat fish every day,” said Claire.
“Shhh! That’s supposed to be a secret!”
Arciel watched over the exchange with an amused grin, her fan propped up against her chin the whole while. “It has been far too long since I was treated to this dynamic.”
The statement was met, of course, with violence. Claire prodded her several times in the side before finally raising her perfectly deadpan voice. “We saw each other half a week ago.”
“We did,” said the witch, with a nod. “And that was half a week that I spent without any semblance of good company. There are few that would speak openly with me in the castle, and even fewer willing to do it in broad daylight.”
She made her best puppy-dog eyes, bending over and looking up at her friend with the cutest pout she could. But again, she was met with a prod.
“Because it undermines your authority,” Claire rolled her eyes. “Stupid squid.”
“Perhaps, but I would much rather deal with the consequences of that should they arise than spend my time all alone in a hostile palace.”
Claire shrugged. “Your fault for becoming queen. We could have assassinated her and been done with it.”
“It is not as if I had ever truly wanted the crown. I simply could not be so irresponsible as to allow my family’s nation to be swallowed by its neighbours.”
“Mmnnnn… maybe you can shove onto one of your cousins or something when Al’s done,” said Sylvia.
The squid sank into thought, lightly tapping her fan against her chin as she twisted her lips into a frown. “That is certainly an option I shall be considering. But their sanity remains in question. We shan’t know if it has been restored until their rehabilitation is complete.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Natalya walked across the property’s foyer and joined the group chatting by the door.
“Nothing important,” said Claire. “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” The cat raised the building’s deed with a shy smile and hid the bottom half of her face. “It’s all ours now.”
“Yours.”
“Ours,” said the cat, firmly. “I’ve put everyone else as co-owners. Maybe that way, you’ll be a little less inclined to run away.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Claire looked towards the previous owner, who was still chatting with the agent on the other side of the lobby. “Why are they still here?” From what she gathered from their conversation, their presence was entirely unnecessary. Their exchanges were centered around the recent news, with each offering his speculation and advice to the other.
“They should be leaving soon.” The cat smiled awkwardly. “They seemed really into it, so I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt them.”
“I can.” The reckless moose began walking over, but Lia grabbed her by the wrist before she could engage.
“It’s okay, Claire, relax,” said Lia. “It’s not like they’re causing us any harm.”
“We can’t renovate while they’re here. The stupid squid has to leave soon. We came up with some pretty good ideas last night, and this is her only chance to see them.”
“You did?” Lia tilted her head.
“Yeah!” chimed Sylvia. “Uhmmm, one sec, I got an idea actually…” She took a moment to focus on her surroundings, before casting her spell and forming a bubble around the unwelcome guests. “There! Done!” The fox nodded contently. “Now, they shouldn’t notice anything even if we start changing everything.”
“However did you manage that?” asked Ciel.
“Oh uhm, it’s simple really. I just made them immune to illusions for a while with one of my buffs.” She clapped her tiny hands together and grinned as she focused her eyes on the cat. “Do you wanna see one of the fun ones or the boring ones first?
“The fun ones, I guess?” said Lia.
“Mmk! One super fun whatever-the-heck-this-shop-is-supposed-to-be coming right up!”
The orange furball leapt onto the ground and twirled as a series of quick, upbeat notes escaped the depths of her throat. Though fast, they were deep, much lower than anything to be expected of a critter so small. The ringing vibrations resonated within the listener’s minds, numbing them as the scene was suddenly distorted. The building was replaced by what looked to be an ancient ruin. Its already half-destroyed walls transformed with piles of rubble stacked high, their gravity-defying structures possible only because of the magical letters inscribed into their frames. The roof retained its hole, wide enough to see the sky from anywhere in the building, and the fish tank was converted to a pool, a quaint wellspring with a series of stones placed around its perimeter. There was an artifact manning the front desk—an ancient golem with Boris’ face, built with lost technologies and armed with blasters and cannons.
“This is the first thing we came up with,” said the fox. “Oh and the golem thingy was Claire’s idea. It’ll ask the customers a riddle and start attacking them if they mess up.”
“Ignoring how awful that would be, is any of this even possible?” asked Lia, with a blink.
Sylvia put a hand on her chin. “Uhmmm… we probably can’t build it for real, but it’s not like it matters. We could just make it a permanent illusion zone thing.”
“I don’t know… It probably wouldn’t leave a good impression on our customers if we fiddled with their minds.” She paused for a moment before nodding. “Whatever we end up doing has to be possible even without any magic.”
“Oh, come on! That rules out like all the fun ones!” The fox puffed up her cheeks. “Normal buildings are boring.”
The illusion faded as she voiced her complaint; the runic stones faded back into wood, and the pool turned back into an ordinary glass box.
“I know they might be a bit bland, but they’re also genuine.” Natalya crouched down in front of the fox and lightly scratched her ear. “And I really want to sell the idea that we’re honest and reliable.”
Sylvia blinked a few times before tilting her head. “Doesn’t that mean having Claire help out is like, a really bad idea? She’s a total slimeball.”
“I am not,” huffed the princess.
“Yeah you are! Did you already forget about the time that you were pretending to help Dad’s friends even though you were working for Alfred? You literally tricked that weird purple guy whose name I can’t remember into letting you kill him!”
“Frederick. The goblin king.”
“Yeah, him! You basically made him so sad and disappointed and horrified that he gave up on life!”
Claire shrugged. “I didn’t see any other way to kill him. His skin was too tough.”
“See!” Sylvia pointed a paw at the accused. “She’s a total slimeball. She’s just gonna give people she doesn’t like bad advice so they end up dying somewhere!”
“T-that shouldn’t be a problem,” said Lia. “I was just going to ask her to be a receptionist and handle most of the consulting work myself.”
“If I may, I believe that to be just as ill-advised,” said the witch. “She will surely resort to violence in the case that she is tasked with dealing with an unreasonable customer.”
“The three of you do realise that I’m listening, right?” muttered the lyrkress.
“Yup!” said the fox.
“We know,” said the cat.
“Naturally,” said the squid.
In trying to defend herself, the moose was immediately met with a trio of accusing stares. She responded with her usual blank look, her eyes resting on each of theirs for a brief moment before she twisted her lips into a trembling pout. Her eyes started to water, and her hands shook as well, but she dismissed the act after looking around again and finding no one fooled.
“You’re all awful,” she said, with a more genuine pout. “What if I was really sad?”
“Then you’d probably be hitting us instead,” giggled Natalya.
“That is a scenario easily imagined,” said Arciel, “and felt as well,” as she moved a hand to her cheeks.
“Mmmnnn, I know it doesn’t really sound like her, but Claire actually gets pretty expressive when she’s down,” said Sylvia. “Like this one time, I kinda like, accidentally disappeared without saying anything, and sh—”
A hand was immediately plastered across the fox’s face, its owner’s eyes narrowed and screaming bloody murder.
“Another word out of you, Sylvia Redleaf, and I swear, I will make sure you never speak again.”
The words themselves were threatening, but the faint blush on her otherwise stoic face told a completely different story. Her tormentor could feel her lips twisting into a smug grin. For once, she was in control. And the sadistic strings in her heart were screaming at her to take full advantage.
“Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone about all the times you’ve spent clinging to me and crying.”
The vixen cackled, even as a bright red moose grabbed her by the neck and violently shook her back and forth; the minor brain trauma was well worth the resulting moment.
Similar interactions continued throughout the day, with Arciel staying until the group was able to settle on a design. In the end, they decided that renovation was pointless. The whole building was torn down and rebuilt as soon as the previous owner vacated the property. Where there was once an amphitheatre, the magical fox constructed a large, rectangular gymnasium. Massive rear end aside, the building’s facade was made into that of a tavern. It was a design shared by half the reception hall. There were tables and seats present for those sitting around, as well as a refreshment corner and a large blackboard. The idea was for it to eventually serve the same purpose as the city’s employment center, in the case that the shop ever grew popular enough to take on the role of curation. That last bit had been Arciel’s suggestion, and a fresh goal for the cat to work towards.
On the other end of the entrance hall was a large counter with several chairs placed behind it. Behind that was another layer of rooms. Some were warm, private spaces meant for foxnaps, sporting single beds, bathrooms, and nightstands, while others were kept cold, so that they could be used to store the various goods that the store planned to stock. There was even a sick bay at the far end. Natalya had reasoned that, with a training ground present, they required a medical facility for anyone that needed to rest and recuperate.
Sylvia was on staff as the resident healer and was in charge of taking care of whatever she determined to be a reasonable fix. Whether that metric was accurate, only time would tell, but Natalya had more confidence in her than the rest of the girls—and Boris for that matter—combined.
Finally, there were the shelves, where they would stock common goods for adventurers, and the massive counter used for reception and consulting. It was wide enough for multiple people to work it at once and extended directly into an underwater space. The clear glass tank, visible beneath the floor, was directly connected to both the arena and the canal in the street. It even had its own entrance, equipped with an added mechanism for the group’s only non-swimmer to lock it from above the water.
Both the aboveground space and the massive tank were modestly decorated, sporting a few weapons and artworks so as not to give the impression of poverty while also avoiding the bourgeoisie attitude inferred from a more expensive collection. The battleworn blades and hanging illustrations were fox-signed, with a vixen-shaped print pressed into the blades' tangs, and an equally fluffy signature carved into the paintings’ bottom right corners. The oil-based canvases she used looked ready to dissolve beneath the waves, but that was hardly anything a little extra magic couldn't easily fix.
As for the name, Lia had long decided on The Misguided Adventurers' Consulting Company. It was a little on the nose for Claire's taste and frankly far too long for any purpose—the adjective in the title was entirely unnecessary—but Natalya had insisted on keeping it, labelling the scheme something of a Paunsean tradition.
The signboard was one of the few things that Sylvia didn't make. She very well could have forged it with her magic, but Olga had already commissioned a local blacksmith to hammer it out. It would be another few days before he was finished; the elven metalworker in question was planning on crafting each letter individually so that they could be freely arranged at Natalya’s discretion. And it was only on said board that the group was still waiting.
Just a few more blinks, and the cat would be open for business.
