Hyena Werks, a Proud Orario Company.
DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI
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Chapter Nineteen:
All Hallows 'Yeen
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"Imma' ghost, Ooooh~"
Hestia stared up at me, slack-jawed, as I waggled my fingers at her–clearly in awe of my supreme costume-making ability. She stood in the doorway to my shop, having just stumbled in for the morning shift. Dressed in business casual with a dress shirt and a skirt, she cut a professional, if relaxed image. One enhanced by the mug of steaming coffee in one hand and a half-eaten scone in the other. I had to subtly tug the hem of my bedsheet down to peek through my eye holes. For in the immortal words of one famous, if fictional, racist: “I can’t see fucking shit out of this thing.”Hestia drew out a slow “Ooookay?” as she closed the door behind her with a hip check–cutting off the curling tendrils of cold fall air that had trailed her inside. "Does… whatever this is-” She waved a hand in my general direction. “-have anything to do with all the paper bats outside?”
“Mhm!” I nodded happily, glad to see that my papier-mache cutouts translated well enough. “It’s for the Festivities! Speaking of which-” I reached down behind the counter, grasping blindly for the… There it is! I straightened up with a bowl of homemade caramel candy in paw, which I proudly plunked on the countertop. “Care for a candy? It's an old Gnomish recipe."The goddess blinked, gears visibly shifting behind her eyes. I could see the very moment where her mind switched from the ‘normal’ track and onto the ‘dealing with the gnoll’. Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, she shrugged and strolled over–grabbing a piece and popping it into her mouth.
Her face scrunched up immediately–like a cat being presented with vegetables. Papa’s good ol’ family caramel immediately glued her mouth shut. She vigorously chewed it for a few seconds before forcefully swallowing it back with a grimace. "Have you been huffing potion fumes again, or is there a reason for all of this?"
"Oh, come off it!-" I waved her cruel words away like they were, well, potion fumes. "You accidentally get yourself high one time while brewing some potions, and suddenly you're an addict!?"
"Twice, you mean." She sighed, shuffling past me to take her seat behind the register. "And I sincerely doubt you forgot to open the workshop doors both times. But seriously, what is this about? People are going to ask, and I need something to tell them other than 'my boss is just crazy'. That excuse is getting old."
I harrumphed at her, petulantly crossing my arms at the lip I was getting. In only a bit more than a month of working for me, Hestia had really come out of her shell. Almost entirely shedding her fear of her inhuman boss in the process. Her timid demeanor was gone, and in its place was a snarky short-stack that could talk smack with the best of 'em.
A skill she needed, considering what kind of clientele we dealt with.
"It's a holiday we celebrated back home,” I grumbled, annoyed that she hadn’t even once complimented my costume. “Called Hollow-” I stopped myself, because a much funnier idea came to mind. “…Yeen, where every fall, after the harvest ends, all the little ones would dress up as monstrous beasts and go out at night to ‘scare’ treats out of their elders. Something to do with appeasing the souls of the dead, and the beginning of the winter months, or somethin’.”
Hestia squinted up at me, suspicious. “There was a lie in there, but I don’t know where.”
I just stuck my tongue out at her, dramatically swishing my bedsheet about like I was the Phantom of the Opera. “And you never will, Hestia. You'll spend the rest of your immortal days haunted by the lies and half-truths I whisper."
She just rolled her eyes, a good-natured smile tugging at her lips. "Whatever you say, Max. Whatever you say." Quickly scarfing back the rest of her scone, she reached over and dragged the book containing the store's ledger towards her. "Did you ever get around to forging more of those special arrow tips in between your 'busy' schedule of cutting out all those paper things? We're running low on both the Pop-outs and CoCs."
"Yeah, they're in the back. I made fifty of each. Do you think that'll be enough?"
She made a face. "To last us to mid-morning, maybe. The only thing that moves faster is Bags of Holding, and you know how long those stick around."
I grimaced in return. In order to preserve my own sense of pride as an Artificer, and my sanity, I had made a house rule: I’d only make three BoH a week, and charge fifteen mil' a pop for them.
They were, without fail, gone the second those doors opened every Monday morning.
Finding out my own version of a modern Mechanical Broadtips–Arrowhead tips with ‘Pop-out’ blades that only deploy after penetrating a target, and the razor-edged Cut on Contacts bodkins, was being eaten up just as voraciously was a bit of a bummer.
They were fiddly little pains in the ass to make, requiring the finesse of a watchmaker and the steady hand of a surgeon to assemble all the little springs and sharp blades.
"Why the hell are they so popular?" I grunted, idly scratching my belly with my claws. "They do know those things are meant for hunting mundane big game, right?"
"Apparently, the Pop-outs can drop mid-Dungeon monsters with just one shot if you even hit close to a vital." She said as she flipped through the book, making notes in the margins for items that were either too low or else not moving fast enough. "And the CoCs shred scaled armor like no one's business. I've had more than a few adventurers trying to preorder both in bulk, and even more asking if they could be made with better materials."
I groaned, already dreading what a bloody mess it would be trying to put those things together with supernaturally strong metal. I cut myself enough times just using basic steel!
"I'll think about it," I muttered, slumping onto the seat beside her. The bedsheet pulled taut against my face, immediately blinding me, which I ignored. “Anything else I should worry about?”
“Not right now, no. We should have enough stock left to get us to the weekend. We will be needing more Low-Grades soon, though. So maybe you should work on finishing up that still." She shot me a sidelong smirk. “Unless you want to read your ever-growing stack of ‘fan mail’, instead?”
I tipped my head back and groaned, pure mortification flashing through me like a bolt of lightning. Hestia, the little monster, just guffawed at my misery–snorting from around the lip of her coffee.
“Give it to me straight-” I begged, "-how bad is it?”
“Well…” She bent down and reached under her station–her eyes locked with my own as a Cheshire grin split her face. She hauled up an enormous stack of envelopes and let them slam down onto the countertop. “-That depends on your definition of bad, Max.”She pulled off the top bunch and shuffled them with the skill of a Vegas dealer. “If by ‘bad’, you mean twenty fresh letters from Apollo, all stinking to high-heaven with the finest of perfumes, then–it's bad.” All the pink envelopes dripping with hearts and swoopy letters got shoved to the side. “If bad means seven more from Ares demanding your eternal fealty, then pretty bad.” The blood-red ones, stamped with stark military stencils, joined the discard pile. “Or if you mean the five new ones from Altena–three calling you a heretical abomination, and two begging you to come lecture at the Academy? Then it's really bad."“-Or do you mean!-” I slowly clamped a paw over her mouth, and just sadly shook my head.
“Please, please stop Hestia.” I shamelessly pleaded through my bedsheet, tail tucked and my ears pinned flat. “Before I make good on my plan to use Disguise Self and sneak off to join a commune somewhere.”
Hestia snorted again–right into my fucking paw. I snatched it back like I’d been scalded, shooting her a look of pure disgust as the little gremlin unashamedly smirked back.
I made an exaggerated show of wiping my paw off on her shirt, to which she only rolled her eyes. “Oh, quit fussing, you great big furball. I already asked around, and everyone said those old fogies ruling Altena complain about everyone. The most they’re gonna do is keep impotently shaking their fist and sending mean letters. And Ares? He is a confirmed man-child. He’ll stomp his feet and throw a fit, but he won't actually do anything… probably.”
“Thanks, that’s 'real' comfortin-”
“Apollo is going to be a real issue, though.”
I groaned again. "Why the hell is he so obsessed with me!? I've barely said two words to the lunatic! I'd almost understand if he was after my skills or something, but all he does is send me poetry! Bad poetry! I don’t even swing that way!"
"Because he's a hedonistic pig with a taste for the exotic." She muttered, pausing to scratch another mark in the book. "The libido of Priapus, the tenacity of Nodens, and not one scrap of either’s charm to make him even remotely tolerable."
She stabbed her pen down with far more force than necessary, tearing a hole through the page. Without a word, she shoved it my way. I dutifully cast Mend on it and passed it back, tilting my head in confusion. "You two know each other?"
She shook her head fiercely. "Hel no. That ass just wouldn't leave me or any of the other ‘Virgin’ Goddess alone! Back in Tenkai, that creep was always trying to catch us alone so he could snatch us away. At least the other pushy gods, like Zeus, had something going for them! Something that made their advances tolerable, funny even." With a sigh, she put down her pen before she laid more abuse upon the innocent log book. "Like I said, he had a thing for the exotic, and there's nothing more exotic than a goddess who hasn't…" She paused, a dash of red creeping across her cheeks. "...just hasn't."
Hestia turned to meet my eyes. "I can't tell you what a relief it was to hear that he had descended–that I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. So relieved, in fact, that I didn't really think about all the poor mortals who would have to put up with that lecherous beast."
A hint of her usual humor returned as she quirked a grin at me. "Poor, exotic mortals like you."
I gave up any semblance of dignity or pride and let myself fall against the counter, spreading out across it in a limp puddle of fur and misery. “Damn. So this is what it feels like to just be wanted for your body.”
A surprised laugh bubbled up from her. “Welcome to the club, Max. The other Virgin Goddesses and I meet every other week for group therapy sessions.”
“I’ll try to pencil you in.” I grumbled into the hardwood counter, before levering myself up to meet her eyes. “Seriously, though, how in the Nine Hells am I supposed to get him to fuck off? Those gray-suited goons of his are getting bolder by the day. It’s only a matter of time before they try something crazy.”Hestia stilled. “Have you told the Guild about the one you caught sneaking around yet?”
I hummed noncommittedly, crossing my arms to rest my chin on. “They told me to come back when Apollo actually did something. Apparently, sneaking around someone's backyard in the middle of the night isn’t a crime. I told them that the next one I found on my property was going to become Snarf’s newest chew toy. And he goes through those fast.”
Snarf perked up from his usual place in the corner, excitedly growling out an electric whir.
"Sorry buddy, not just yet. I promise I'll let you play with the next fucker who tries to test me."
Disappointed at the lack of new toys, Snarf slumped back down, his glowing eyes dimming in disinterest.
"What did the Guild say about your threat?"
I turned back to Hestia to find her on her feet and stepping around the counter with a clipboard in hand. "Promise, actually. And I dunno'. I stopped listening after the half-breed I was talking to started screaming about somethin’ or another."
Hestia let loose a long-suffering sigh as she pulled down a box of Everbright Lanterns from a nearby shelf; tapping a finger to each one and counting under her breath. She then shoved them back up and turned to me. "My advice to you, Max, is to take a step back and relax. Let him play his little games until he gets bored and moves on to his next victim. If you react or engage at all with his nonsense, then he'll know what he's doing is getting to you. And then? If you give him even the slightest cause to–he'll escalate."
"That sounds like a whole lotta' hassle." I growl. "It'd be way easier if I just send one of his goons back piecemeal. Then he'll get the message."
"Absolutely not." Hestia firmly denied with a shake of the head that sent her twin tails spinning. "Because one: I actually like this job, and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire between a god’s familia and whatever nonsense you’ll pull out to meet them. And two… there's no winning that fight, not really.”
I straightened up, a frown on my muzzle, but she interrupted me with a raised hand. “I’m not saying you couldn’t beat him, I’ve seen enough of the stuff you’re squirreling away down in the basement to know that that fight would be-” She paused, chewing on her words for a moment, before deciding on, “-quick. But, if you go down that route, if you attack the Apollo familia, Hel, when you win against the Apollo familia, then all that’ll happen is you’ll make an eternal enemy out of him. And Max? We gods can hold a grudge for a long, long time. He’d bide his time, rebuild his forces, and then he’d go for the throat.”
“And if you managed to kill his mortal body, and force him back to Tenkai?” She sadly shook her head. “Then he would just wait to get his claws on your immortal soul. A fate I wouldn't wish on anyone.”
A long silence stretched between us before I blew out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll try it your way. But if he fucks around, then he’s gonna’ find the fuck out.”
She gave a small chuckle, turning back to her work. “I’ll do some digging, ask around some old friends of mine, and see if I can’t find a legal way to make him back off.”
I perked up, a little happy curl to my tail at her words, touched by her loyalty to someone she’s only known for a few weeks. “Thanks, Hestia. You really don’t have to go that far for me.”
She shot me a grin from over her shoulder. “Goddess of the Flame, remember? It’s my job to protect the house and home. And I think this is more than worth it.”
We shared a smile when suddenly the ringing bell of the front door opening drew our attention.
Hestia put down the box she was holding and stepped around the shelf. “Sorry, but we’re not open just yet-” She froze when she laid eyes on who was standing in the doorway, taking off their coat.
“What's up, Tsubaki? Come on in.” I nodded to Hephaestus’s captain. Her sole eye crinkled in a lopsided smile as she looked up to me. Which immediately froze on her face when she registered what the hell she was looking at.
Her eye turned towards Hestia, seeking answers. Hestia, hunched inwards and surrounded by a miasma of shy awkwardness at the sight of her old friend's right-hand woman, only shrugged. “It’s apparently ‘Hollow Yeen’?”
“Want some candy?” I piped up, nudging the bowl forward.
She looked in between the two of them, waiting for the punchline. When one wasn’t forthcoming, she shrugged and also took a piece. The level five adventurer didn’t even struggle with the sugary cement. “So… why are you dressed as a bed?”
“Ghost, actually.” I sniffed, “I haunt these hollowed halls now. Confess your sins to me, or be cursed forever more.”
“I like some good scratch.” Tsubaki immediately and unashamedly declared–leaving Hestia a blushing, stuttering mess.
I burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face before her deadpan delivery. Getting my giggles under control, I gestured for her to take a seat. “Good enough, I guess. What brings you out our way, Tsubaki?”
“Business, I’m afraid.” She said, taking out a letter from… down her shirt without so much as breaking eye contact. “Hephaestus-sama sends her regards, and her regrets for not being able to attend in person, but recent events have demanded her attention.”
“No worries,” I said as I sliced the envelope open with a claw and began to read from the fine paper. It was clearly written by the goddess's own hand and contained her usual blunt manner of speaking. It concisely listed what she wanted, with no allowance for lawyer-speak or flowery language; It read more like a requisition order than a letter. And with every line I read, the further my eyebrows climbed towards my mohawk.
Reaching the end, and the five billion Valis opening offer written there, I looked back up at the impassive blacksmith. “Is she serious?”
“Deadly.” She nodded, crossing her well-toned arms over her chest, and kicking up a leg to rest across her knee. “My goddess has given me leave to offer you whatever you want to accept this commission, within reason.”
“Contract negotiations are supposed to be a bit more contentious, Tsubaki. Ideally, one side doesn’t just admit how badly they want something.” I grumble, slightly disappointed that we wouldn’t have a nice verbal spar over the job.
She shrugged. “You should know by now that we don’t operate that way, Max. Are you interested?”
I considered it, chewing over my demands as I tapped a claw against the paper. “For the five billion-” Hestia choked aloud at the sum casually being thrown around. “-and for the right of first refusal to purchase… Let's say thirty percent of all high-end Dungeon-mined ores the Hephaestus familia acquires for the next ten years.”
She scoffed. “I said ‘within reason’, Max. Make it ten percent.”
“How about we split the difference and say fifteen?” I counter.
Tsubaki leans back and tilts her head to the side, squinting her eye at me in intense focus. The air between us becomes electric, sparks flying as our stare down grows to new heights of!-
“Ok, we have a deal.”
Damn.
Deflating a bit at the lack of challenge, I hold out a paw, which she clasps with a grin. “Alright, then. I’ll get started on your workshop immediately. It’ll probably take me about a month to finish.”
Her grin turns feral. “Looking forward to it, Max.”