Chapter 14
Haunted Service
Travel Journal — Days 16–19
Victor has been on the team for four days.
He has:
- acquired a job,
- acquired a title,
- acquired several admirers,
- and somehow acquired permission to haunt my workplace.
I did not approve of most of these developments.
Cinder is finally running without looking surprised by his own legs.
Owlbert has decided that exact schedules are now legally binding.
I think we're almost ready for Falkner… Almost.
- - - - -
By breakfast, Victor had already insulted the curtains. “They lack conviction.”
Ravina looked up from her toast. She was sitting in the Pokemon Center's cafeteria for some breakfast with her boys before work. “They're curtains.”
“That is no excuse.”
Victor drifted closer to the Pokémon Center window and regarded the pale morning light beyond it with visible disappointment. “The Mist Pavilion, however…”
Ravina stopped chewing. Cinder, stretched out beside her chair, opened one eye as Owlbert remained perched on the back of the opposite seat.
Victor turned. “…has potential.”
“No.”
“I have not proposed anything.”
“You were about to.”
Victor smiled. “I was about to inquire whether your place of employment accepts talented independent performers?”
“No.”
“A tragic loss for the arts.”
“You've never been there.”
“I have heard enough.”
“You have heard me complain about it.”
“Exactly.”
Ravina pointed her fork at him. “You are coming because I don't trust you to be left unattended yet.”
Victor placed one gaseous curl against his chest. “Wounded.”
“You voluntarily performed your own capture yesterday.”
“I wished to make an impression.”
“You succeeded.”
“Then we agree.”
“We do not.”
Cinder gave a low trill and Ravina reached down and scratched beneath his jaw. “You're staying at the Center today, my Fireball.”
His eye opened fully. “Don't give me that.”
He sat up, which now that he was a Quilava, involved considerably more Cinder than it used to.
Ravina smiled. “You still need your movement work.”
A soft grumble. “And Owlbert needs his routine.”
Hoot.
“Exactly.”
Victor looked between them. “You leave them here while you work?”
“Sometimes.”
“And me?”
Ravina looked at him as Victor widened his eyes. “Surely you would not deprive Violet City of this face.”
“You are mostly face.”
“A particularly good one.”
Ravina sighed. “Come on.”
- - - - -
The Mist Pavilion was quiet when Ravina arrived, but not empty, never empty.
But between the morning tea crowd and the afternoon tables, the public room had settled into a softer rhythm. Lanterns were still lit beneath the darker beams despite the daylight.
Water moved through the ornamental channel. Somewhere behind a screen, someone laughed.
Ravina stepped inside wearing her now-familiar pink-and-white uniform, complete with fox ears and tail, as Victor stopped behind her.
For once, there was silence, that Ravina turned to face him
His eyes were enormous.
“Oh no.”
Victor drifted forward, slowly and reverently.
“This…” Ravina crossed her arms. “…is magnificent.”
“I knew it.”
Purple curtains hung between dark wooden supports, gold accents caught the light, low tables sat arranged across polished floors. Incense curled faintly through the room. A Goldeen passed beneath the bridge of the interior watercourse.
Victor rotated. “Why did you describe this as a workplace?”
“Because they pay me.”
“This is a stage.”
“It is a restaurant.”
“A stage with refreshments.”
“It is not a stage.”
A spoon sailed past them and Victor watched it as the spoon disappeared into a Murkrow's beak.
A white hand appeared from behind the nearest screen and two fingers curled.
The Murkrow immediately returned the spoon. Victor stared and Ravina sighed. “Don't encourage her.”
Just as Chinatsu emerged and the elder fox and ghost stared at one another and Ravina immediately knew she had made a mistake.
The old kitsune's eyes moved over him once. Purple vapor, white eyes and wide grin.
Just as Victor's gaze moved over her. White hair, fox ears and tail.
With a perfectly composed expression, they remained silent as Ravina looked between them.
“No.”
Neither reacted.
“I mean it.”
Victor drifted closer. “Madam.”
Chinatsu raised one eyebrow.
“My.” Ravina covered her face. “God.”
Victor bowed deeply, somehow.
“I am Victor.”
“Chinatsu.”
“I know.”
Ravina looked up. “How?”
Victor's eyes remained fixed on Chinatsu. “Presence.”
Chinatsu smiled. “You may stay.”
Ravina's head snapped toward her. “What?”
Victor's grin widened. “Excellent.”
“No. Hold on.”
Chinatsu took a slow draw from her pipe. “You brought me a talking Gastly with theatrical instincts.”
“I brought him because leaving him alone seemed irresponsible.”
“Wise.”
“That does not mean you employ him.”
Victor looked offended. “I have already been accepted.”
“You have not.”
Chinatsu regarded Ravina, then Victor, then Ravina again. “Oh.”
Ravina knew that sound, she hated that sound. “What?”
Chinatsu's smile grew. “I can work with this.”
Victor's eyes gleamed as Ravina pointed between them. “Absolutely not.”
- - - - -
By lunchtime, Ravina had acquired a new sash. It was darker than the standard pink, with purple embroidery curled around the edges in stylized smoke patterns. Small ghost-shaped charms hung from one side.
Victor floated behind her shoulder as Ravina looked at herself in the mirror then glanced at Chinatsu, then at Victor. “This is your fault.”
Victor gasped. “Our fault~.”
“That is worse.”
Chinatsu adjusted the fall of the sash. “There.”
Ravina stared at the result.
The ordinary uniform still looked innocent, mostly. But with the darker sash, the tiny charms, and a literal Gastly hovering behind her like an overenthusiastic curse, it looked deliberate.
Chinatsu stepped back. “Haunted shrine maiden.”
Victor whispered: “Yes.”
Ravina closed her eyes. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Chinatsu smiled. “Temporary haunted shrine maiden.”
Ravina opened one eye. “That is technically better.”
Victor circled her. “Your reluctance improves the character.”
“I am not in character.”
“Exactly.”
Ravina pointed at him. “You do not get to improvise anything that frightens customers.”
Victor looked wounded. “Define frightens.”
“Running.”
“Reasonable.”
“Screaming.”
“Overly restrictive.”
“Victor.”
“Fine.”
“And no whispering directly into anyone's ear unless they ask.”
Victor hesitated and Ravina narrowed her eyes. “Why did you hesitate?”
“I was considering artistry.”
“Consider less.”
Chinatsu coughed delicately into one hand.
Ravina looked at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're laughing.”
“I would never.”
Victor looked at Chinatsu. “You are.”
“Traitor.”
“Artist recognizes artist.”
Ravina groaned.
- - - - -
Victor's first customer interaction occurred six minutes later. An adult couple sat near the watercourse. Ravina brought their drinks as Victor remained behind her, mostly hidden in the shadows beneath the beam.
That had been the agreement, mostly hidden, quiet and atmospheric.
Ravina placed the cups. “Your tea.”
The woman smiled. “Thank you.”
Victor slowly emerged from behind Ravina. “May your evening be less bitter than the cup before you.”
The man and woman stared.
Ravina stared and Victor smiled.
The woman laughed first. “Oh, I love him.”
Victor bowed. “Finally.”
The man pointed. “Does he actually talk?”
“Yes,” Ravina said. “Frequently.”
Victor floated closer. “You, sir, possess the bearing of a tragic swordsman.”
The man looked delighted. “I do?”
“No.” Ravina's head snapped around as Victor continued smoothly. “But you could.”
The woman burst out laughing and Ravina pressed her lips together.
Victor turned toward her. “Was that acceptable?”
Ravina sighed. “Unfortunately.”
He beamed.
By the end of the hour, three tables had asked for him by name, and Chinatsu raised the price of Ravina's section.
After Ravina noticed. “You did not?”
Chinatsu looked innocent. “You have an additional performer.”
“how does that work?”
“Profit.”
Victor appeared beside them. “I approve of this woman.”
“Of course you do.”