u/Acceptable_Egg5560

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“Lervua? Hey, Lervua?” a muffled blur called from galaxies away. “Lervua…? Are you…?”

A call to it? To the ghost? But why? The ghost was fine. It could sit here all night and not complain. The ghost would never complain. Never again. It knew the price of speaking out. It still had the scars to prove it.

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had never asked Shaal for help.

Help was reserved only for those who deserved it. Help was reserved only for the righteous. Help was reserved only for those worth helping. Shaal was like that, but the ghost wasn’t. Why had it bothered Shaal to begin with? What a waste… A stupid, useless waste of time… The ghost should have just gone through with its original plan.

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had gone through with its original plan.

But no, that wasn’t reality. It was a cosmic joke, a cruel prank on the innocent soul next to the ghost that they were here instead. They were at this party, this raucous event that burned and blistered the ears. Listening to this false speech which proclaimed some sort of fictitious cognition of freedom. How dull. These besotted bastards and their thoughtless urge to dance to the first drum they hear beat. These brash Humans and their illusions of control in a world already wrapped in strings. These voice recordings with faces, set to echo a narrative unchosen by them, naive to the true machinations of their surroundings.

The ghost stared in horror. The ghost stared in disgust. The ghost stared in sadness. It could not turn away, for fear of forgetting what its paws had wrought.

These puppets danced under invisible strings, naively proclaiming their freedom. They raised their arms and cheered, unbeknownst to them that a malevolent paw still reached out to twist their limbs like dolls. Easily used, broken, replaced. And those strings — those awful, titanium strings which had once trailed back to the ghost — were still there. Dormant, gently pulling just enough to let it know they existed.

Ever since that fateful day, the ghost’s paws had bled. Even now, they bled. Gushing orange, as though the ghost even possessed a heart to pump it with. A cold, ethereal blood that carried neither warmth nor life. Poison, engineered only to

sicken. And where had this bleeding come from? Not from the back, like all the naïve little toys around it. From the front, right where each of the strings had once been sewn in. Not those of a puppet, no. They were those of a controller, apuppeteer. One who laughed while making its toys live out their awful,hilarious lives.

But the strings weren’t cut. They hadnever been cut. They couldn’t have been cut. The strings were indestructible. The strings were inevitable.

No… they had simply beenyanked out. Plucked like an insidious weed, then tossed to the side. And the paws still bled. Oh my, how they bled and bled, and they just wouldn’t stop; left only in desperation as they grabbed and clawed at something,anything, that could plug up the holes.

Was that what Shaal was? Just a plug? A tool meant to stop the bleeding? A damp cloth used to wipe away the orange? The guilt? Just… just another puppet?

“That’s just business, Lervua,” He spoke in the ghost’s ear like a haunting echo. “There’s winners and losers, simple asmthat. And I can tell you one thing, WE are certainly no losers. And you know why? It’s because we stay ahead of the curve. We take advantage of markets nobody’s even THOUGHT of before, or things nobody realizes even IS a market. And we do whatever we can to ensure that we stay on top. It’s not my fault that some people just can’t keep up. Now pretty yourself up, would ya? We’ve got guests coming over soon, and you look disgusting.”

Staying ahead of the curve? Wasthat what they had been doing? And if the curve itself was built of flesh and bone? What then? Was it still justifiable? Was it still “just business?”

No! No, no, no! It wasn’t! It wouldn’t have been! It would never be!IT, the ghost,would. never. be!The ghost ensured it! It plucked and tugged andRIPPED out thoseDAMN STRINGS itself! Its paws melted into orange blood for a modicum of real control! For the slightestchance that the mounds of wrongs that “curve” had been built on could one day be leveled.

But the ghost had gotten nowhere with it. It had tried to wipe its crying eyes with those awful, awful, bloody paws and ended up blinding itself even more.

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had never even existed.

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had disappeared before it could have caused this harm.

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had gone through with its original plan.

“Lervua…?” a voice echoed through. A sparkle of light in an encroaching darkness. “Lervua, please… Please be alright…”

Hazy eyes blinked a few times as something warm held the ghost tightly. The world about the ghost had turned cold and dark. Not due to any ill effects, but caused instead by the surroundings. The ghost and Shaal were outside now, seated on the ground in some nearby alley.

“Lervua… I’m here… It’s okay… I’m here…” Shaal muttered soothingly from below it. “Please come back to me…”

She had curled up next to the ghost, providing warmth and comfort with her embrace, yet not so much that it felt as though she were crowding it. An effort not gone to waste, as the unrelenting winter breeze which filtered in through the main streets would have caused even the thickest wool coats to flinch.

“Wh-wha…?” the ghost muttered out. “What happened…?”

“Oh!” Shaal suddenly piped up, rising from its chest in a heartbeat. “Lervua! You’re okay!”

Speaking of heartbeats, the ghost finally noticed its own. For some reason, it was thumping about at a laysie’s wingbeat. The ghost could practically hear it echoing in its ears. And its breath… It was as if there was hardly enough oxygen in the universe that could fill the ghost’s ethereal lungs.

Needing to breathe, the ghost had instinctively shied away from Shaal, causing the beautiful woman to give her ghastly partner a bit of space.

“Sorry!” she blurted. After a few more deep breaths, Shaal began to explain, “Everything was going fine, and we were just eating dinner, when all of the sudden you went completely wall-eyed! And then you didn’t talk or respond to anything I said, so I brought you out here, and I was so worried, and you just kept freaking out, and I—”

Suddenly, she lunged forward into the ghost’s chest, the lovely reds of her wool overshadowed and blotched out by the soulless whites of the ghost’s.

“—I was so worrieeeeeeed!!!” Shaal cried out. Blubbering, she asked, “Are you okay now!?”

“I-I’m okay… I think…” the ghost said with uncertainty.

“What happened back there?” asked Shaal with a sniffle. “Is this a medical thing? Do I need to take you to a hospital? I wanted to call an ambulance, but I was afraid they were gonna blame it on us being around Humans or something and not treat you!”

Sighing deeply, the ghost thought back. From its perspective, it had just been in the pub mere moments ago, eating food and doing its best to talk with Shaal. Then, that speech from the pub’s owner… The fake freedom he thought he’d been afforded, which the rest of the pub’s patrons had been tricked into believing. Hearing all of that just reminded the ghost of… Him. And then suddenly, things after that went… blank… Perhaps there was a flash or two of Shaal leading it by the paw out the door again, but the ghost couldn’t tell if those memories were entirely real or fabricated.

“It’s… it’s of no concern,” the ghost said with another gasp of air. “I just… I zoned out, I believe. I’m… I’m sorry… I truly believed I was improving at it.”

“‘Zoned out?’ Seriously?” Shaal replied in disbelief. “Lervua, I’ve seen you zone out before. And none of this was anywhere close to before!"

“Perhaps this simply was a particularly dastardly one?” the ghost attempted with a shy laugh. “L-let us just not concern ourselves over such minor details. The main focus is that I am well again, yes? We should return to our seats before they mistake us for thieves.”

Attempting to sit up, the ghost was met with only opposition from Shaal. Her two paws practically shoved the ghost back down, steadfast and determined.

“I already paid,” she said firmly. “And seriously? ‘Minor details?’ Lervua. You just got out of a full-blown panic attack. If it were any worse, I thought you might have started stampeding away! I’m not letting you back into that pub until I can be sure it won’t happen again!”

At that, the ghost simply exhaled a flimsy breath, turning its head down to avoid looking at Shaal. From this perspective, the bleached, pale coat of wool almost seemed like the snow it was often compared to, if only because the ghost desperately wished to melt away into nothingness.

“It was the speech,” Shaal surmised. “It made you think about Vane, didn’t it?”

The ghost’s breath hitched. Shaal had been dead-on. Perhaps it

was a bit brash to say so in such flat words, but there was no denying their truth. But how awful of a truth it was, despite how obvious. Besides Shaal herself, he was the only thing that had been on the ghost’s mind for literal decades. The ghost would have done anything to change that fact. It would have studied any topic, talked to any person…swallowed any pill…

A well of ice-cold tears streamed out from the ghost’s pained eyes, only for them to trail along an already beaten track. Apparently, the ghost had been crying for some time already. Two paws curled around legs, pulling the ghost into as small a ball as it could manage.

“Want to… Want to talk about it…?” Shaal asked with a steady voice, plopping down next to the ghost.

A ghastly tail waved to the affirmative. However, it wasn’t until half a scratch later that the ghost’s quivering, muted voice manifested. “That Human… He was… misinformed…”

Shaal placed a paw on the ghost’s leg. “How so? The Federation’s in shambles, isn’t it? How is that misinformed?”

“He is not free,” the ghost said firmly. “None of them are free.”

“Vane can’t influence us anymore. You know this,” she pointed out. “We didn’t go through all that trouble with Sharnet and Vekna for nothing, right? It’s over now.”

“My father is not an actor at the moment. That does not mean he does not still influence us.”

“Hardly!” Shaal denied. “Last we heard, he was seen leaving the planet. You can’t get much more distant than escaping the entire solar system!”

“It does not matter. He still influences us regardless.”

The auburn angel tilted her head. “Oh come on, Lervua. We’re out of his net. Or, really, his net’s been cut. The guy’s got no control over our lives now. You don’t have to live with your tail scanning for stalkers anymore.”

Another stretch of silence. The ghost loved Shaal, and it most certainly did not deserve her, but the woman could be a little short-sighted at times.

“The burn,” it pointed out.

“On Sneed and that Gojid?” Shaal asked. With a scoff, she rebuked, “What? Do you think you’re responsible for that or something?”

The ghost gave her a solemn look.

“Stars above, you actually do,” Shaal said in disbelief. Shaking the ghost’s leg slightly, she asserted, “Lervua, that is not your fault! That was some… some speh-brained exterminator with a trigger claw! You had nothing to do with that!”

“And who gave the exterminator their cleanser?”

Shaal paused. “What?”

“Who gave the exterminator their cleanser?” the ghost repeated. “It couldn’t have come from nowhere. So who gave it to them?”

“The… Guild, I guess?”

“And who gave the Guild the cleanser?”

Shaal twisted her face in thought. “I dunno. Some factory somewhere?”

“And who built the factory? Then sold it to the Guild?”

“That’s… I don’t know.”

“But I do,” the ghost said, then took another long breath.

“And who was right there with him? Who was the one who helped run the numbers? Who was the one who moved the pieces around on the board? Solgalick’s Light, if I saw the make and model of the cleanser, I could most likely direct you to the manufacturer who assembled it.”

“Vane is abahstahd, Lervua,” Shaal said, something of a soft growl to her voice. “You know that. Brahk, I think even he knows that. Just because he forced you to do some brahky stuff for a while doesn’t mean that you’re anything like him.”

“Forced…?” the ghost repeated, a slight scoff to its voice. “Was I really… forced…?”

The ghost gripped at its head, pulling at its ears with trembling claws. How could it have been forced? That would have implied unwillingness. And if the ghost had been so unwilling as Shaal claimed, then…

Then…

Then why…? Why had it felt sogood?

“Father, I believe I located an inefficiency,”an old, familiar girl said, an eagerness to her voice that hadn’t existed for a long time.“A Head Magister in the C-Quadrant is attempting to attach a workers’ rights addendum to an upcoming legislation. It seeks to heavily decrease the tax percentile for lower-class households, or those diagnosed with PD, while increasing the percentile for the upper-class by more than one-percent.”

“What!?”Vane screamed back, almost choking on his dinner.“It was Teilum, wasn’t it? Sneaky shadestalker, I’ll grant him that. But he’s not gonna screw me over that easily. I’ll pull some strings and see if I can’t throw a quick smear campaign together. You keep an eye on things in the meantime.”

“Yes, father.”

**“Oh, and Lervua?”**he continued, hardly looking up as he went

in for another bite of his food.“Nice catch. I sense you’ve got a strong future in this business ahead. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

“Th-thank you, father.”

The ghost’s ears felt as though they were about to be ripped off. It pulled and it yanked; the pain it felt now only a shallow retribution for that which it had once caused. A soothing, auburn paw, however, halted that retribution with a gentle touch.

“Yes! You were forced!” Shaal explained, breaking through the memory with her voice alone. “I was there! I saw what he would do whenever you didn’t obey!”

“Then why…?” the ghost queried, a small whimper emerging in its throat. “Why… Why did Ilike it…? Why did it make me feelproud?”

“He indoctrinated you,” Shaal soothed as she talked. “Full brain-washing. The worst kind. The kind that makes you think that good things are bad and that bad things are good. But that part of you is gone now. You don’t have to worry about it anymore. You don’t have to worry about what he thinks!”

“But I still hurt people…” the ghost rejected, its voice lumpy and weak. “I hurt so, so many people.”

“You thought it would make Vane proud of you. You were wrong, and you realized that. Now, you can grow.”

“Yet I still constantly see reminders of it. On the news, on the streets, and…” The ghost waved its tail over to the bar. “Everywhere…”

“Not everything is your fault, Lervua,” Shaal eased. “You might have played a small part in it, but Vane’s reach was so much worse than anything you might have done. And by Solgalick’s Light, you are not responsible for the actions of some braindead exterminator.”

The ghost didn’t respond to that, electing instead to play with a tangle of some of its white fur. That was, until Shaal placed a paw on the ghost’s leg, causing it to jump slightly.

“You’re not the same person you were back then,” Shaal continued. “You helped Sharnet and Vekna in their investigation. You played a huge part in taking down Vane. Now, you may not be able to fix all the damages, but that doesn’t mean you need to suffer for the rest of your life. You wouldn’t hurt an innocent personnow, would you?”

At this, the ghost felt as though its chest were about to collapse. Shoving its head into its knees, a muffled voice was all the returned. “IhuryudidnI…”

Shaal chuckled slightly. “What was that?”

“IhuryudidnI…”

“Lervua, you know I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

The ghost lifted its head. “I said… I hurt you, didn’t I?”

Another chuckle. “What?”

“The date… The party…” the ghost explained, fighting the urge to shove its face back into its legs. “Today was… It was supposed to be a special event. A celebration of the Federation’s defeat. A time for revelry and lax festivity; the atmosphere in which you thrive.”

“Well, yeah, I guess. But I don’t see what that has to…” Shaal began before suddenly trailing off. With raised ears and a tilted head, she continued, “Lervua… Do you think you hurt me by running out like you did?”

The ghost faltered, hiding its head away once more. Another trail of tears welled and burst from its eyes as it blubbered, “I’m sorryyyyyyyyy…”

A reassuring paw brushed the back of the ghost’s head. “Lervua, I don’t care about any of that.”

“It was supposed to be your day. And I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. We had a ton of good food, didn’t we?”

“Well yes, but—“

“And we can always come back. We don’t need to come during a big party.”

“I know, however—“

“So long as we’re together, I don’t care what we’re doing.You’re what makes me happy. I could be locked in a bunker deep underground andstill be okay, just so long as I could see you every day.”

“I… I…”

The ghost was speechless. It could not move its head for fear of waking up from the dream it was half-convinced it was in.

But as a gentle paw wormed its way into the tightly-wound ball of white wool and prodded the ghost to lift its muzzle, the soft light of the outside world could manifest nothing but pure reality. The fact that this was actually happening, that these words were genuine, was enough to turn the ghost’s tears into a full waterfall.

“You’re not the same un-empathetic, bratty girl I met that first day so long ago,” Shaal said, a warm beam of sunlight shining across the edges of her maroon wool. “But if you keep beating yourself up like this, soon there isn’t going to be anything left! You’ve grown, Lervua, and you’re going to keep growing. And I’m going to be there with you until the end of it.”

“B-but…” the ghost tried, barely able to edge a word out. Eventually, it managed to stitch together a thought, only doing so in the form of a scream, “But you do EVERYTHING for me! You work so many claws a day, you never take breaks, you cheer me up when I’m sad! And what do I do in return!? I just make everything so difficult for you! You can’t even partake in your favorite pastimes without worrying about my feelings! I’m… I’m useless!!”

The concern was met with an unyielding stoicism. “You are not useless. You do a lot of things for me too, remember? Remember our first tax season together when I couldn’t even string two numbers together? Besides, if I were upset about any of that stuff, I would’ve mentioned it by now, wouldn’t I? Whatever youthink is annoying about it, none of it really matters to me. You’re worth every last drop of effort out of me.”

“But—!” the ghost tried, but was silenced by Shaal in an instant.

“Whatever other reason you come up with for thinking you’re a burden, you can keep it to yourself,” she said, unabashed by the ghost’s arguments. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m stuck to you like a prickleberry no matter what.”

That seemed to hush the ghost, halting its voice in its tracks. Instead, Shaal stood up before sticking out a paw towards the ghost. Pulling the white-wooled specter to its feet, Shaal bent low to brush off any pebbles or dirt that may have stuck.

A content look plastered across her face, Shaal said, “Now come on, it’s freezing out here. Wanna go pick up some cheap wine from the store and binge some Human movies back at the apartment? This entire conversation has made me wanna cuddle youreal bad.”

Still speechless, the ghost could do nothing but wag its tail in the affirmative, allowing Shaal to lead the way. Out through the alley, back on the street, trailing all the way towards the small corner of the city they had come to call home after fleeing the ghost’s father all those cycles ago. And all the while, the ghost…

No.

No, I should stop saying that.

All this “ghost” talk.

What if Shaal could have heard it?

She wouldn’t like me saying that about myself.

As we walked home, I,Lervua, had a lot of time to think. This life that I’ve lived, these mistakes that I’ve made. They were mine to concede to. But they were also mine to atone for.

The strings of my days as a puppeteer were still out there, indestructible and inevitable. But living in fear of the past would only invite those strings back into my life. And if I so let them, they would quickly bind themselves around both mine and Shaal’s necks.

The effects of Vane’s control still glowed with the light of the sun that starship of his was last seen flying towards. I thought we’d escaped it, or at least avoided his gaze for the time being. But it still controlled me just as much as it had the day I realized the error of my ways. It was still eating me alive, and I was complicit in its predation.

I had to change. I had to grow. And I would. If not for my own sake, then for Shaal’s.

“Er… Shaal…?” my voice sounded out, a surprising amount of will behind it that hadn’t been there back in the alleyway.

“Yeah?Wadzup?” the auburn beauty replied with another of her Human phrases.

“We should go back there. To that pub,” I stated.

What was this feeling…? This burning sensation in my chest?

When was the last time I had felt like this?

When was the last time I had spoken like this?

When was the last time I had been so confident?

“What? Now? Did you forget something?” Shaal asked.

“No,” I replied. “I was referring to the future. Let us try once again.”

Shaal waved the suggestion away. “Oh, that’s alright, Lervua. I know you think you spoiled my time, but I honestly don’t want you feel like you have to—“

“No,” I said firmly, a spark behind my eyes that caused even Shaal to flinch in shock. “I want to go. You are unoccupied tomorrow, correct?”

“Well, yes, I think I—“

“Then let us go. My treat,” I said with finality. That was about all the courage I could muster in the moment, however. My shoulders slumped as I eked out. “Er… It may be less populated tomorrow. Still, I insist.”

Shaal thought it over for a moment. She seemed inclined to turn down my offer, only to take a second look at my eyes. I focused them, the determination evident in every feature of my expression.

“You know what?” she eventually replied. “Sure! If you’re certain, then I trust you. Let’s give it another try!”

I wagged my tail. It would take cub steps, but I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere if I didn’t try to keep moving forward. And eventually, should I finally move far enough, those titanium strings might snap under a far mightier resolve.

“Helya,” I said, copying the crude phrase Shaal had been so fond of. Something she was more than happy to reciprocate as we trod the final steps home.

I didn’t deserve her. I really didn’t. The sins I’d committed far-outweighed any happiness I was afforded. But would it be so bad if I could enjoy this one thing? Would it be so selfish if I held Shaal in my arms and didn’t let go? And perhaps, one day, with enough effort, might I could actually deserve her?

A ghost walked these streets. A terrible, terrible ghost. But what was a ghost if not a spirit fueled by the regrets of its past life? Could a ghost not seek to rectify its failures? To look past the veil of shameful mistakes and aim for a peaceful future? Was a ghost, even one as shameful as I, truly beyond redemption?

Shaal certainly didn’t think so. And now, neither did I.

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“Dia duit! Welcome to Sneed’s, where the only war you have to worry about tonight is who’s going to be handling the bill. The name’s Moira and I’ll be your host tonight,” the Human, who the ghost eventually placed to be a woman, introduced. Without a word, she began reaching for each of the dirtied dishes left behind by the table’s previous inhabitants.

“Stars, ain’t that a timely catchphrase,” Shaal commented with a friendly wag of the tail. “How long’ve you been waiting to say that?”

The waitress replied with a hearty chuckle. “That obvious, am I? Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to call me out on that today. Can you blame me, though? Not every day you get to celebrate the end of a genuine interstellar war. Hard to believe the whole thing only lasted half a year, err, cycle in retrospect.”

“Most stressful few Nights of our lives, huh?” Shaal agreed with a breath far too exhausted for how early into the festivities the two were. “Half a cycle to you maybe, but generations to us. Feels like the weight that’s been draggin’ my tail around my whole life has been lifted.”

The waitress nodded cheerily before slowly panning her alien, binocular eyes around the room. “A lot of people are feeling like that. We’re just one of many places across Venlil space that are throwing a party like this.” She turned her head back to give Shaal and the ghost a big, toothy smile; the kind that would have earned a prompt call to the exterminators hardly half a cycle prior. “But I’d bet my left asscheek that not-a-one is doing it better than us!”

“Hehlya!” Shaal replied in earnest, the alien phrase she had been practicing earning an even wider smile from our waitress. Leaning so far forward in her chair that she was halfstanding, she continued to cheer, “That’s why Lervua and I came here! If we’re gonna celebrate the end to all the stupid bloodshed, then we’re gonna do it the Human way! Destroy ourgohdaahm stomachs! Ain’t that right, hun?”

Shaal turned her head down to look at the ghost, which became startled by the sudden attention. The Human was now staring at it too, causing the shy sinner to curl up into its pale arms slightly, bleating out a noise of surprise. However, it was only a few moments later that the ghost managed to steel itself briefly enough to respond. The ghost was such a sinking anchor to Shaal already; the last thing it wanted was to spoil what little good harvest there was by embarrassing her after such an impassioned speech.

“I-indeed!” the ghost called out in its strongest voice, yet still only amounting to a whisper barely audible enough for the two closest to it to hear. “L-let us… erm… enjoy the festivities to their… erm… fullest capacity!”

“That’s what we like to hear,” the Human said with a much more considerate smile, before producing a small pad of paper and respective writing implement. “Anyways, what’ll you two fine folk be having?”

Shaal got to business ordering, pointing at different items scribbled into the menu while asking what each one was. The questions were likely something the waitress had needed to answer quite often considering their customer base, and she was ready to detail any with a prepared description. Each one had made Shaal react with stars in her eyes. Given that she had just finished a long shift of work the Claw prior, the ghost didn’t doubt that she was fighting through quite the starved stomach.

Because that was what she was at the moment: starved. When was the last time Shaal had really enjoyed a trip out like this? When was the last time she wasn’t swamped with work to keep it out of the gutter? When was the last time she wasn’t haunted by the ghost?

As Shaal began actually requesting some dishes, the ghost did not speak up, instead allowing her to choose and order for it. Once or twice, she would ask the ghost if something sounded good, to which it would simply wag its tail to the affirmative. Truthfully, the ghost did not care. Its desires were meaningless. Its desires were selfish. Its desires were dangerous.

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had never desired anything again.

And with that, the waitress was off, gone into the disarray of laughter and cheers, returning the two to their relative lonesome. Shaal idly waved her tail about, absorbing the atmosphere of the pub around them. Meanwhile, the ghost simply tapped its ethereal claws together, allowing time to pass around it. Its thoughts, however small, blanked, and the pupils of its deathly eyes dilated just the slightest bit.

Everything could be static. Everything could be noise. Everything could beignored.

Soon enough, a feeling much too familiar to the ghost hazed over its mind. As though a switch had been flipped, all sounds and chatter around the ghost slowly melded into one. Its dilated eyes began to blur, its breathing slowed, and its tail ceased almost all movement. For just an instant, all sensation melted away, leaving only the vague acknowledgement of existence in its wak—

The ghost blinked, then huffed out a breath. ‘No! Stop it! Don’t zone out!’it thought to itself.‘This is supposed to be Shaal’s sun! How is she going to feel if the partner she brought just sits here wall-eyed the entire time!?’

The ghost needed to try harder. The ghost needed to be better. At this moment, the ghost needed to stop being itself. Shaking its head ever so slightly, it refocused itself back into the intense, raucous world it had momentarily left. Leaning forward, it attempted to break the mold as best it could, becoming a weak echo of someone who far more deserved Shaal.

“S-so, uhh!” the ghost began with a quavering, almost shrill voice. “H-how was work today!?”

Shaal’s eyes widened slightly, her ears raising in surprise.

“Oh!” Focusing in on the ghost, she answered with a whistling laugh, “Well! Thanks for asking!”

She had responded to that as though surprised. But of course she was. The ghost wasn’t ever competent enough to do something as simple as small talk before, so why should she have expected anything better from it? She would have experienced better company with a newly-born pup than the ghost.

“Good question! I guess my answer to that is… ‘Ugh,’” Shaal said after a moment’s thought.

“H-How—” the ghost’s voice faltered in a squeaky stumble over itself. Coughing, it attempted, “How inauspicious! I-I mean… Uhm… How, err… spehful!”

Shaal giggled at that, earning a bright orange bloom to burst from the ghost’s ears.

“You don’t have to force yourself, you know,” Shaal said, her ears still beaming in delight. “I know that you don’t like chatting around other people, and honestly, I don’t mind just sitting around and enjoying the atmosphere. It’s okay! Don’t get me wrong, though! I appreciate it, but if it makes you uncomfortable, then—”

“No!” the ghost shouted back before it became tempted to accept. Shying back down, it elaborated, “I-I mean… N-no, I… Iwant to talk. It’s…I’m okay. I promise.”

“If you say so,” Shaal returned cheerily, taking the ghost at its deceptive word as though it were the truth. Softening her posture a bit more, the glowing woman began to weave into one of her fascinating stories. “Anyways, so, get this. At work today, this Gojid dude who I work with, Sovlin. No, not The Sovlin. Just a normal one. So, he’s been on my tail about this, quote, ‘project’ that he came up with where…”

On and on Shaal went, recalling the tale of her woes and struggles from the day. All the while, the ghost listened, and it listened well. It didn’t get distracted, it didn’t pick a corner of the room to stare at, and by some sheer miracle, it didn’t zone out. Nowadays, pride was a rarity within the ghost’s mind, but the slightest twinge it felt at remaining fully present was enough of a high to be exhilarating.

“So then the guy has thetail to tell the team that he’d still be the one to take credit for the project that we’d be working on!” Shaal continued, a hint of exasperation to her voice.

“No he did not!” the ghost replied in a whisper, yet nonetheless shocked. “How callous!”

“I know, right?” Shaal enthused back. “I almost ran up and plucked out the quills outta his back right then and there!”

“I cannot imagine that would have passed over well,” the ghost replied back with a soft laugh. “Predator Disease facilities may be on the verge of shutdown in this province, but that will not prevent other means of counterpoise.”

“Yeah, especially ‘cause this guy is my boss’s son,” Shaal sighed out. “Spehhead acts like he’s in charge of everyone while still on training wheels. Absolutely no sense of self-awareness, like he lives in his own little world. Brahkin’ nepotism, amiright?”

Suddenly, a chill went down the ghost’s spine. Turning its head down, it replied, “Erm… yes. Quite so.”

“Oh speh, sorry,” Shaal quickly worded out upon recognizing the ghost’s reaction. “Lervua, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not—”

“It’s fine,” the ghost said, forcing its tail to wave calmly. “I know you meant no denigration towards me.”

Whether she had meant it or not, Shaal was right to judge the ghost. She was right to insult it. She was right to hate it. And though the ghost knew that Shaal would never do so in earnest, it felt a strange chord of satisfaction at the accidental slight. It was as though justice was still being dispensed in at least some capacity.

“Yeah obviously not, but I should probably be more careful with my words, right? I don’t want you to get reminded of—“

“You do not—“ the ghost interjected hastily, its voice suddenly raspy and almost catching on itself. Taking a small breath, it attempted again, “You do not need to concern yourself with that — with him. It was a simple slip of the tongue. Nothing more substantial than that.”

The ghost waved its tail some more, stoically radiating an air of uncharacteristic self-absurdness. But interaly? A different story was told. Its heart was thrumming a thousand beats a minute. At just the slightest mention of him, the world began to turn hazy, the warmth of the lively pub boiling into a suffocating heat.

None of that would affect the ghost. Not today. Today was Shaal’s day. She was worth fifty of the ghost. No, fivehundred. The feelings and preferences of the ghost were irrelevant when stood next to Shaal’s, like comparing a fort of mud and sticks to that of a towering castle. And so, the ghost would do everything in its power to protect that sanctity.

“Instead,” the ghost continued to reassure, “might I request you tell me more about your day? How is it you are planning to thwart that Gojid and his vexatious dastards?”

Shaal appeared to buy the act, a similar wag of enthusiasm coming from her tail. At that, the story picked back up where it had left. All the while, the ghost attempted to ignore the budding thoughts which ever-burrowed into its skull.

It wasn’t long after that the waitress, Moira, returned. Atop her hands and arms were multiple trays, each containing an assortment of alien foods and drinks. They were kept atop with an impressive balance, especially for someone with no tail to speak of.

“Sorry for the wait, you two,” the Human said with a professionally cheery voice. “You would not believe the line of orders back there. Sneed’s got the whole kitchen in a frenzy.”

“No worries!” Shaal replied. “That busy, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Moira chuckled back. “I do not envy the newbies on dishwasher duty. We were expecting a big turnout, but nothing like this. Sneed’s worrying his butt off that somebody’s gonna call the triggerhappy arsonists on us or something due to the noise alone.”

“Would that really happen?” she said with a tilted head. “Like you said, you definitely not the only place hosting a party right now. Besides, I thought the Guild was all but shut down on this side of the planet.”

“If there was an actual chance of it, you wouldn’t catch me here. But it’s hard to feel like we aren’t tempting fate at least a little bit. Or, I guess you could say, ‘playing with

fire,‘” Moira said casually, not earning as much of a positive response from Shaal as she seemed to hope for. Coughing awkwardly, she pivoted by saying, “Regardless. Isn’t that what we’re all celebrating in the first place? We Humans might have had it particularly bad this past year, but we aren’t blind to you all either.”

As the waitress began to deal out the dishes about the table, pushing some decorations to the side to make room, she gestured about to the rest of the pub. All around the three, species of many varieties continued to holler and celebrate as though there wasn’t a care to be had in the galaxy. Food was downed and glasses were held high while groups intermingled, making friends out of strangers with wild enthusiasm. There was a certain beauty to it that the ghost couldn’t help but feel warm about.

“For all we’ve had to suffer through, it isn’t like the Feds haven’t kept you all under their thumb either,” Moira explained. “How many hundreds of years have they controlled your lives? How many people have suffered due to those crazy Fed laws, or lost loved ones to those damn exterminators calling it ‘cleansing the taint?’”

“Too brahkin’ much,” Shaal concurred. “I’m Pred Diseasedazz fahck, and I’m sick of feeling like I’m gonna get dragged off to a facility and be ‘fixed’ one day. If you ask me, Humans are the best thing to ever happen to this planet.”

Moira seemed to light up at that, her face twisting into one of those gentle “smiles” Shaal seemed to adore. Apparently, it was something that was meant to be feared. To the ghost, however, it remained a neutral impression at worst. While the ghost could not quite understand where Shaal’s fascination stemmed from, it did not scare the pale specter in the slightest. After all, the ghost had witnessed far worse atrocities in its time.

“You and many of the other folks here. I still can’t believe that was the norm on this planet,” the waitress said. “I’ve been told all sorts of stories, none of them good. But now, with those damn Feds pushed back, we can finally start to live our lives free. The leash has been clipped, so what else is there to do but celebrate?”

The ghost ducked into its shoulders at that. Another chill shot down its spine without mercy, causing the ghost’s tail to droop even further than it already had been.

Shaal, noticing this, decided to hurry along the interaction. “You can say that again! Anyways! What’ve we got here? Don’t want the food to be getting cold, right?”

“Not unless you want Sneed to come out here and thrash you himself,” Moira laughed in response.

The Human then began to explain each of the dishes in more depth than she had already given us. Though neither of the two were particularly big eaters, Shaal had elected to order them a small feast of alien dishes to snack on. Various sylvannalike delicacies called “sandwiches” sat in rectangular cuts along a long plate, each with unknown fruits and vegetables stuffed inside. Crunchy, thin triangles of a heavily salted and fried strayu were set on a plate next to be used as edible scoops for the bowl of green sauce next to it. A starchy root vegetable had been cut into thin, long wedges, fried, then heavily salted and served next to a viscous, red sauce. And finally, for the drinks, a pair of brightly hued, pink and yellow cocktails were sat, complete with the petal of a flower sticking out for garnish.

It was never in any doubt, but it couldn’t be denied that the Humans had a certain flair for presentation when it came to their meals. To where others would assume blood, carnage, and gore to be their definitions of aesthetic, beauty instead flourished. It would have been a cosmic shame to have it be wasted, especially by the galaxy’s imprudent denigration of Humans as nothing but predatory monsters. There was only one monster in this room, and it most certainly wasn’t Human.

That being said, the drinks were thankfully mixed with a venlil’s taste in mind. They might have been pretty, but the Human capacity for alcohol tolerance was adorably pitiful at best.

With a clenched, almost careful fist, Shaal raised her glass into the air. A bit of the pink mixture spilling out, she announced, “Come on! Let’s do the ‘cheers’ thing!”

Another aspect of Human culture Shaal had been hopelessly eager to mimic. Not that the ghost minded. It was actually quite fun! Ears raised in understanding, the ghost answered the request with a raised glass of its own, albeit in a much more tactful grip. Two fingers and a thumb daintily wrapped around the base of the glass, lifting the drink up until its glass clinked ever so slightly against Shaal’s, the flower garnishing it not so much as floating a hair out of place.

“Cheers!” the two said in unison, only for them both to reel in shock when a genuine crowd of drunk aliens and venlil alike were spurred by them to shout the same. Shaal and the ghost paused for a moment to stare out into the pub, before turning back to face one another and share an awkward laugh. Then, the two imbibed their drinks, basking in the sweet pull of the fruit juice, the bitter bite of the alcohol, and the surprisingly salt rim which tied it all together.

A moment later, Shaal bit down on the garnishing flower. The ghost did as well. Why wouldn’t they? It was the best part, after all.

“Well? How is it, Lervua?” Shaal asked with an expectant look. “Can’t imagine it beats much of what you’re used to.”

The ghost wagged her tail affectionately. “Astonishing as it may be, the flavor is verily something of a nostalgia. Sweet, yet not overpoweringly so, with a hint of citrus to help it mellow. Certainly, the quality of the alcoholic base is of ipsom to iron when compared to the aged Solreggum Orchards frequently imbibed back in the manor, but I can’t quite say I find it distasteful.”

This earned a familiar whistling laugh from Shaal, causing the ghost to stutter out, “What?”

“You sound like one of those Aafan wine criticizers on holovision,” Shaal pointed out. In a mock gesture, she held her glass from its base and stirred it about. Mimicking the intonation of a socialite, she said, “I must say, this fourtytwo eighty-three Gojidi white is marvelous. It has an ever-so lovely velvety-ness and an ever-EVER-so opulent musky aroma.” Switching her voice, she instead mimicked the voice of a waiter. “Very good, sir. But I must say. That isn’t the wine. It’s mop water from the janitor’s bucket.”

The ghost’s ears flattened in annoyance. “That’s a terrible impression…” it mumbled. “That’s not even what the word ‘opulent’ means…”

“Okay, but was the voice spot on, or no?”

“It was…” the ghost began, before conceding into a light chuckle of their own. “Adequate.”

Shaal seemed satisfied at that. She always had a certain capability of pulling a laugh out of the ghost, no matter how small. No matter how much of a waste it was in the end. The ghost didn’t deserve to laugh. It deserved to suffer.

The reminder of its position in this world was enough to make its shoulders slump.

Noticing this, Shaal was quick to pull the ghost’s attention somewhere else. “Anyways! How’s about we dig in? I wanna be wrecked by the end of tonight!”

“L-likewise…” the ghost concurred, albeit half-heartedly.

Its tone soon changed as it reached forward and sampled a small bite of the plated food. While the ghost had certainly been no stranger to Human cuisine, it never ceased to amaze that ghastly creature as to how flavorful and savory each bite could manage to be. Like an ambrosial exploration of the senses, the differing foods greeted the ghost’s welcoming tongue, going down just as quickly as the next bite entered.

“Thanks for bringing me out here, Lervua,” Shaal commented in between lusted mouthfuls of food. “It means a lot.”

The ghost tilted its head in confusion. “This was your idea, no? I merely followed your lead.”

“Yeah, but you agreed to come with me,” she countered, shoving a literal fistful of fried wedges into her mouth. After allowing a moment to chew and chase it with a sip of her drink, she said, “Otherwise, we would have just spent the whole day hovelled up inside. And while, don’t get me wrong, I do love spending time with just the two of us…”

“You find it more mirthful to engage in public events,” the ghost finished for her.

“Yeah!” Shaal agreed.

“I understand,” the ghost said. “I will try harder from now on.”

She placed a paw on the intangible, frigid limb attached to the ghost’s ethereal form. “Thank you, Lervua. I don’t want to pressure you. It’s just…” She took a small breath. “This is nice.”

The ghost waved a tail at that. When Shaal was happy, it was happy too. She had already done so much to sacrifice the hapless creature, it was only a shame that all of it had been a waste. The ghost’s preferences did not matter. What made the ghost uncomfortable was only a stacking burden on this selfless angel. To whom had once been a free, unfettered spirit was now a person chained down by the unyielding weight of the ghost.

What kind of justice was it that Shaal could not enjoy life’s simple pleasures now that the ghost was a part of her life? What kind of happiness was she losing out on with this omen of bad luck haunting her every step? When would it be that Shaal realized this and finally cut off the loose thread?

It was only a matter of time, surely. Until then, however, the ghost, despite its better judgement, planned to relish its undeserved attention. All the while, it would attempt to reduce the damages it caused. If that meant stepping out for a heart-thumpingly loud party on the other end of town, then so be it. A single happy wag from Shaal was worth more than the ghost’s entire being.

It was when they were approaching the end of their meal that Moira, flanked by a middle-aged male Human the ghost assumed to be her boss Sneed, stepped up on to a small stage underneath one of the holoprojectors. The man spent a few moments attempted to get everyone’s attention, tapping a glass with a silver utensil, only to yield little results. Only when Moira elected to suck in a breath and bellow out,“OI!!! SHUT’CHER GOBS YA BUNCHA DRUNK BASTARDS!!” did the room actually heed their presence. A number of diners began to shiver and quake in fear of her powerful voice. Surprisingly, even some of the Humans. Shaal, meanwhile, simply chuckled in amusement.

“Thank you, Moira. And sorry, all, for the startle,” Sneed said, his voice weak and raspy; a noticeable burn mark running up from his chest and around his throat. Coughing, it was easy to tell just how much this speech strained him.

“It’s been a year, you know. Since I came here,” he began, throwing back a sip of a murky brown drink. It appeared strong, enough to irritate his throat even more. Not that the man seemed to mind all that much as he went in for another. “And in that time, I’ve seen this place transformed.”

Chatter amongst the crowd germinated, only to be silenced as Sneed waved them down. A brief glare from Moira may have also played its part in their continued silence.

“I was there, on board one of the first refugee ships. Taken in by a Gojid with a heart of gold and a mouth that wouldn’t ever shut the hell up.” He glared over at the same Gojid that had been drunkenly reciting tales to a table of people, who replied with a guilty look. “A year ago, this town was a terrible place, ruled by its fear of my kind. As lovely as my roommate was, I couldn’t even walk out our door without folks running away in fear and sicking those damn arsonists on me. Even worse, my friend over there became ostracized by both his herd and his family. They called him crazy. Diseased. A monster. Just for daring to let something like me into his home.”

He took another sip, breaking into a thin cough. He gripped the burn scars around his throat as though it would do anything to mend the internal damage. “I fuckinghated it. And I’m ashamed to say… I hatedyou. All of you lot, for forcing me and my kind into this horrible mess.”

The man breathed a quick sigh, removing his grip and instead rubbing at the scar; a nervous reflex. “I didn’t make it out unscathed.” He gestured to the Gojid, who briefly became the focus of everyone’s attention. On closer look, similar burn scars trailed up the alien’s skin, rooting from their claws and up into their arm, mostly obscured by a layer of brown fur. “But neither did he. And it took me far too damn long to realize that Humans weren’t the only ones hurting.”

“You were controlled,” he said with a snarl. “And some of you still are. When I first came here, the Exterminator Guild held this town’s leadership by the throat. We Humans were*‘allowed to exist,’* but only by the barest meaning of the phrase. Held at flame-point for so much as looking at somebody wrong. And kind, empathetic folk like my roommate were secretly brought to those torture centers with the word ‘hospital’ slapped on them.” He looked down solemnly, the vast majority of the crowd — especially Shaal — joining him. “I had to learn that it wasn’t your fault. It never was. It wasalways somebody in the background. It wasalways somebody that had their hand, paw, claw, or wing over the remote. It wasalways somebody with a damn agenda; a way to profit off of our misery.”

People turned to each other in a respectful silence, patting each other on the back or rubbing at each other’s ears. Shaal wanted to do the same for the ghost. Solgalick above, she knew more than anyone how true it had been for the two of them. Except, if she had actually reached out to comfort the ghost, the ghost wouldn’t have felt it.

Everything was… numb. And it was becoming harder and harder to hear the speech, what with that thumping sound coming from all directions.

Finally, the Human lifted his head up and smiled out into the crowd, unafraid to show the fullest extent of his aged, yet beaming teeth. “But things’ve changed now. I’ve grown, you’ve grown,we’ve grown. The Magistratta himself came down as a herald of the Governor and dismantled the Guild and its influence. And while it might take a long while before things really fix themselves…God knowsthis ramshackle old place was the best anyone was willing to sell me… I know things’ll be on the up-and-up from here on out. No more tyrants with flamethrowers. No more generations-old conspiracies. No more propaganda machines forcing you to be afraid of your own shadow. No moreFederations!”

An uproar of cheers and tail thumps broke out from the crowd. Though for some reason, it barely made it through the ghost’s ears. It was fuzzy, as though plugs had been shoved through its ear holes and down deep into its brain.

“From now on! We! Are! Finally! Free!” Sneed’s now muffled voice barely registered through the fuzz and thumping noise.

More so, the crowds of people had strangely grown rather hazy. Their raised paws and hands seemed to wave back and forth as if under water. Or perhaps the now blistering heat of the pub was creating some manner of heatwave? Not that the ghost could leave if it wanted to. It needed to stay here to support Shaal. If it left, Shaal would be upset, and then the ghost would truly be worth nothing.

It would have been better for the world if Shaal had never met the ghost.

Speaking of which, where was Shaal? The ghost could not see her. It could make out her voice, however. The heavenly voice, it sounded like a call.

[Prev]-[Next]

Behold readers!! A while back, u/YakiTapioca announced they were free for commissions, and I knew their work was of the highest quality and jumped at the chance! Well, after they worked hard, they have completed their wonderful work, and so I have published it for all to see and enjoy!! Please, tell Yaki that they're amazing. I wish them all the good things in this life!

Now Onward to read!!

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[Next]

A ghost walked these streets.

A terrible, awful ghost. One of misfortune, of ruin, of shame. Incorporeal in body, and inauspicious in spirit. A living specter of splotchy white, more reminiscent of cheap plaster meant to cover over damaged and abused property than that of the crisp snow it was often compared to. And what grievous damage it was; that the ghost was always on the verge of shattering like millennia-old glass. Just one push — just one shove — and what meager standing of respect it has for itself threatened to collapse.

Laugh if you must. Point and stare all you please. Judge without fear of retaliation. For to many, the ire thrown was not undeserved, and may indeed be a righteousness. It was just to laugh, and even more so to hate. Because if the ghost could have caused even a twinge of warmth, even if it needed to burn itself on the pyre to do so, then that was all that mattered. And when the ghost was nothing but ash and dust, perhaps then it could think to itself the one thing it had dreamed of for so long.

‘I deserve to exist.’

But what would have been the point of that? Who would have cared whether the ghost had been self-assured? After all it had done — to mock, to haunt, to torture — how could there exist a single soul out in the universe who could tolerate the ghost for even a moment? More pressingly, how could the universe itself be so cruel as to force such a burden onto another? Was it a punishment? And if so, for whom?

The ghost nearly tripped as a blunt, yet soft jab pressed into its shoulder.

“Lervua!” a soft voice announced alongside a warm laugh. “Stop messing around! Can you answer my question already!”

The ghost breathed in sharply, nearly choking as the dry winter air scratched at its throat like a predator’s claws. And as it spoke, its voice was a phantom of the shrill horror

it had once been so long ago. “S-sorry, Shaal… Erm… What was the question again?”

‘Zoned out again,’ the ghost lambasted. ‘Useless…’

Perhaps it was by some cruel twist of the universe that the kind soul before the ghost hadn’t noticed its disassociation. Instead, she simply spun around on deft paws, as if the ground itself were a waxy stage. And with another warm laugh, she queried, “What do you think of my new hat?”

The ghost staggered slightly, no words coming to mind that could do justice to its true thoughts. Eventually, a scant few sounds dripped their way down into the mouth, the first half of which escaping as nothing but mumbles. “Bahh-buhh-bu— Uhh…”

“Wow, that bad, huh?”

“No!” it sputtered back. “No, no no! I-It’s really great!”

“Pff! Just teasin’!” Shaal replied, jogging in front of it.

Her legs moved at a steady rhythm to walk backwards while simultaneously keeping up with the ghost. More impressively, as she put her arms up to lean the back of her head into, not a hint of fear leaked from her features as she essentially moved blindly. So seamless, so confident. So… unlike the ghost.

“I already know I look seckshi ahs fahk!” she declared, her giggly voice ringing to the ghost’s ears like golden bells.

On that, the ghost could not disagree. Shaal was many, many things. And should all those things be scratched eternally into stone, it was not audacious to say one would need several continents of surface area to do so. She was a tapestry of delicate fibers picked solely from the most lustrous fields across the planet. She was a euphoric melody strung on chords of sunbeams and starlight. She was the very epithet of passion and joy made manifest. And it was only the ghost’s hubris in being so incompetent that it could not do Shaal’s presence any more justice than the pittance it could manage.

Needless to say, Shaal did look “seckshi ahs fahk,” as she had so blatantly put it using one of those quaint yet brash Human phrases she’d become so fond of. She looked good in anything; she looked good in everything. From the finest threads of imported Yufuin silk to the cheapest winter ipsom rags. It was a fact of the universe; a quantum-mechanical constant. The light simply bent to her will as though she were its master, showering her in a never-ending golden glow. But among all the warm jackets and colorful apparels she had donned, none of it had held so much of a spark to the towering flame of beauty that was Shaal herself.

Her wool was a soft caramel sweetness, its light-brown curls like that of melted sugar and syrup hardened into toffee. Though grown out to combat the chill embrace of winter, the slightest hint of a darker undercoat could be seen from beneath the umber clouds. It was the color of a fresh cup of tea on a snowy morning, steeped just enough to be the perfect balance of light and dark. Deeper than her overcoat, but not so much that it clashed. And attached to her arms, a series of bright golden bangles were locked into place, so well-chosen to seamlessly fit alongside her brown-sugary tones that they appeared almost natural.

But that hadn’t been the topic of discussion. It wasn’t unlike the ghost to get sidetracked staring at the far more elegant sun-herald before it. For as distracting as Shaal’s beauty could be, it was her choice in headwear that day which drew the most interest. Shaal had been rather fascinated by the convent of those peculiar new predators as of late. Humans were truly… a lot of things, most of which the ghost could not place its meaningless paw directly on, but it couldn’t deny that they were a fascinating bunch. They seemed to shake things up wherever and however far their furless limbs could reach, a prospect that Shaal had come to be rather entertained by. And whatever Shaal enjoyed, the ghost did its best to enjoy alongside her.

Things just felt… right… that way…

“It’s a rather lovely article,” the ghost commented after Shaal did another once-around to show off. “Where ever did you manage to find such a thing?”

“Ugh, Lervua, you wouldn’t believe it!” Shaal replied with an eager, yet solemn voice. “I was checking some second-paw stores online when I found this Human woman practically giving her entire life away for clippings to the bale. Something about how her landlord didn’t want her around anymore ‘cause she was ‘bad for business,’ or some speh. Now, I know we’re not exactly sunscorched with credits, but I couldn’t let her sell this thing for the steal she was giving it away at. You know how much this thing could have gone for if it was made by anyone else?” The ghost took another look at the hat, inspecting it more closely. The smooth, silky material it had been carefully crafted out of was certainly easy on the eyes. A bright, crystal white — far more impressive than the ghost’s own pale, barren wool — added to only by what appeared to be a single, massive white feather perched conspicuously across the rim and down the back. Despite the initial conclusions a more skittish Venlil would have made, the feather was clearly artificial. Even a creature as fallible as the ghost could spot the slight transparency of plastic amid the barbs. Regardless, artificial or not, Shaal had a point. Such a design would have emptied quite the pocket if produced by anyone but the intrepid Humans. Who could have known that they could dress so lavishly when they wanted to.

None of that, however, did much to answer Shaal’s question. Without much thought, the ghost guessed, “Uh-uhm… Perhaps… A thousand credits?”

“Pssh!” Shaal returned. “Try ten-times that! And I snagged it for the price of a few warm meals! So needless to say I didn’t mind clawing out double the cost she was giving it away for.”

The ghost paused for a moment, its pace slowing the slightest bit. “I am… ambivalent over whether to feel joyous for you or forlorn for the woman from whom you procured it.”

“I dunno, she seemed pretty happy,” she said. “Told me she’s been tryin’ to give this thing away for weeks, but noone would take it on account of the, y’know.”

She gestured to the feather lolling about behind her head. At this, the ghost waved its tail in understanding.

“There do not exist many who would not bolt at the sight, I presume,” the ghost commented.

“Bahstaads might be thinkin’ it’s like some sort of… uhh… idunno. ‘Revenge hat,’ or something?” Shaal added, twisting her paw on a swivel as she thought.

“She did not attempt removing the feather?”

“You kidding? That’s the best part!” Shaal replied, reaching up to protect the adornment with her paw. “It’s what gives it life! It’s what makes it unique! Also, apparently it’s stitched in there pretty well, so removing it would undo the fibers.”

“Ah.”

“Either way, she said it used to be her good luck charm back on Terra. But now it’s ‘nothing but trouble.’ Told me she hopes it gives me the same luck she used to have with it.”

“Well is that not endearing,” the ghost replied with a soft chuckle. “I suppose it did bring her one last bit of luck if you were willing to lavish that much for it. You’re so charitable!”

The brown-wooled beauty turned away at the ghost’s words, stifling her own adorable giggle. Her tail swayed impishly from side-to-side, and a small hop was added to her next few steps. The ghost’s attitude was boosted a bit by this as well. Though temporary and likely tripe compared to what other, more deserving people could have managed, it did warm the ghost’s blackened and catatonic heart to see its compliment so well received. If only for a moment, the ghost felt as though it were alive again, only to fall back into its old grave no more than an instant later.

It didn’t deserve to be happy. It didn’t deserve to be loved. And it most certainly didn’t deserve Shaal.

“Aww! Thanks, Lervua!” the misguided angel returned, before her tail twisted in a mischievous swirl. “But the Human didn’t mean that kind of luck.”

“Oh?” the ghost said, twisting its ears to the side curiously. “And, pray tell, what did she mean?”

“Apparently, she called it her ‘hunting hat.’ But before I could say anything, she shushed me and said, ‘not that kind of hunting,” Shaal explained, the swirling of her tail slowing into a flirtatious twist about the tip. She slowed her pace somewhat, allowing the ghost to catch up with her before it knew what was happening. Then, abruptly leaning in close to the ghost’s white wool, whispered, “But I was way ahead of her. I told her I knew exactly what she meant, but that I’ve already got my own prey at home waiting for me. No hunting required~.”

The ghost froze in place, its ethereal spirit like compacted ice beneath a tails-length of snow. In an instant, wires had crossed over in the ghost’s mind, frying it to a mush.

“A-aa-a-aa-aaaa— A-and… Wh-wh-wh-wh-what d-did shesayafterthat!?” it stuttered out, meshing the last few words into one collective jumble.

Luckily, Shaal had picked up on the meaning through the ghost’s vocal incompetence. Snuggling closer, she answered, “Wellll~. She just laughed and told me the hat’s good for that too. Apparently, folks like a girl with a good sense of style. So, pray tell, Lervua… Does me wearing this hat make you feel at all clossser to me~?”

Nothing of intelligence emerged from the ghost’s snout at that. Instead, a series of nervous baa’s and bleats was all that screeched out into the open air, earning some curious glances from the scant-few bystanders walking by.

“I-I-I-I-I-I,” the ghost repeated, and if it had anything in mind to actually say, it was clear as day that thought would never fully emerge.

“I’ll take that as a yes~.”

The moment seemed to stretch into eons, yet was still too painfully short once over. Not long after the ghost had threatened to collapse in on itself, Shaal’s attention turned somewhere else. Her ears swerved forward towards a nearby sound, one that the ghost noticed not long after. The faintest echo of lively, cheerful music textured the frigid air, enticing all those who heard it inwards. Though such a guise made the ghost naught but indifferent, the allure worked its charm on Shaal, whose tail suddenly began to sway to its rhythm.

“Oh! That’s the place!” she announced, before bolting in its direction. “Come on! I’m starving!”

The ghost reached its paw out toward Shaal, who had already turned away. It longed for the warmth and affection that its shallow soul had experienced far-too briefly. It was an ache, a desire, a need. And yet it knew, deep down, that need was only selfish in nature. The ghost had been consumed by selfishness before, and it had since been handed the bill. A bill that no amount of money, however unfathomable, could equate. A bill that the ghost was still paying off to that day, and likely could never settle. A bill… that had cost it everything.

So it had to ask itself: Could someone, could some-thing, which had accrued that much blood-stained debt be allowed to act so selfishly as to seek happiness? Did it deserve happiness? Or had this all been some form of cruel mistake?

Against its better judgment, the ghost followed.

Only a few scratches of hastened steps were what separated Shaal and the ghost from their destination, a small yet curious pub off a brief turn of the main road. The street and adjacent sidewalk were rather narrow, though not uncomfortably so, and would have allowed at least a single vehicle to pass by without issue. And though the deep chill of a winter’s day had been scratching at the exposed skin of their ears during the trek here, the cozy inlet allowed for a somewhat relaxing respite from the icy breeze. Meanwhile, the pub itself was not what the ghost had imagined when Shaal had suggested they go there. From the looks of it, it had been situated on the second floor of one of the tightly packed buildings with only a single, dimly lit sign buzzing against the wall to signify there was anything there. It would have been entirely inconspicuous had there not been a pawful of Venlil, along with a Yotul-Human pair, standing about outside its entrance staircase.

A far cry from what the ghost had grown up with, but perhaps that was for the best. Long ago, this was the kind of place it would have looked at and scoffed, assuming it had even noticed the place at all. But much had happened since then, and the ghost had learned time and time again not to overlook such details. The world could be beautiful if one stopped to behold it, but perhaps it was for that reason a creature with such foul eyes as the ghost had missed that beauty for so long.

“Is this the location you were expecting?” the ghost asked in a flat whisper.

“The name matches,” Shaal replied. Holding her visual translator up to the sign overhead, she read aloud some of its alien script, “Sneed’s Feedery and Seedery.”

“And you’re quite certain this is the Human pub that just opened up?” the ghost worried. “It strikes me as a little… ermm… ramshackle.”

“Yeah. Building’s old, but the ownership’s new,” she said with confidence. “A buddy’a buddy’a mine bought it from some old guy named ‘Valuck.’ Dude was just letting this place crumble to dust. The sign’s old’n dusty on purpose, I think. New owner brought it with them from Terra after it miraculously survived the bombings. It’s symbolic, I’m told.”

“Ah…” the ghost replied, its voice petering out.

By this point, the two of them were receiving a few curious stares and side-glances from the surrounding folks. A bolt of lightning shot down the ghost’s spine, causing it to duck its head a little into its shoulders. Ears folded back, a tail drooped into the cold ground, and only a faint whimper could be heard. Seeing this, Shaal was quick to notice and grabbed the ghost by its intangible, sickly white arm, urging it up the stairs.

“Come on! No point in standing out in the cold! Let’s check it out!” she called to the ghost in a soothing, enticing voice.

In a daze, the ghost pushed down the quickly forming lump in its throat and followed. The old staircase creaked under the slightest movement, causing the ghost to inwardly cringe. However, it only took a few steps to reach the pub’s unassuming entrance. A cheaply cut slab of dark wood met their eyes, one barely tall enough for a creature of the ghost’s height to pass through. From just beyond it, however, a motley of sounds could be heard. Chatter, music, laughter, and most of all, cheering.

This was definitely the place.

Pushing through, the sounds only amplified as Shaal and her ghastly specter entered the pub. By its very design, the interior was shocking to behold. Albeit aged, the building was plainly Federation standard. The mix of flat, soft concrete and smooth corners to prevent injury was enough of a giveaway, much less the fact that all installations were clearly Venlil height. All of which juxtaposed heavily against the untamed revelry that took place within.

Tables both regular-sized and tall enough to dangle one’s legs off of stood about. They’d seemingly once had an organization to their placement, but had long-since been moved about to join into an extensions of others; most likely by the staggering number of people about. While predominantly Human and Venlil, a number of species from the newly-founded Coalition were present, including Yotul, Gojid, Zurulian, and even a few Krakotl.

A testament to the grand crossing of planetary borders, folks of all backgrounds fraternized and celebrated. Drink in claw, a Gojid bent over a table to recall wild stories to a crowd of listeners. A Venlil and Krakotl danced with wings over arms while poorly attempted to sing along to some Human song playing loudly over a speaker. And, much to the ghost’s quickly blooming face, a Human and Yotul pair rather violently held their mouths to each other in an act of intimacy it was only vaguely familiar with. Even the loners were in on the action, a wooden bar full of both the chatty and silent together, a Venlil bartender quick to fulfill their drinking needs.

Despite the festivities, holoprojectors inlaid into multiple walls displayed the true reason we were all here: celebrating the end of the Federation. Even the more distracted of the patrons would occasionally glance up towards a screen, cheering on footage of a Fed militant ship blowing apart into nothing but cosmic dust. It was mostly cleanup now — the Humans had made sure of that — but it still managed to spark a tear of joy in even the most stalwart souls among us.

“Stars above! Now isn’t this place a brahkin’ riot!” Shaal exclaimed in a tone rich with excitement.

“Y-yes…!” the ghost replied quickly, yet hesitantly. “Quite the pleasant… erm… cacophony, I’d say!”

Leading the ghost to a recently used table which had yet to be cleared of its used glasses and plates, Shaal beamed a light giggle. Pulling a chair out for the ghost, she replied, “‘Cacophony?’ Really?”

“Is that not an apt descriptor?” it said, a bit of an orange bloom working its way into the ghost’s pale ears. Tapping a claw to its incorporeal cheek, it continued to justify, “Do tell. What manner of vernacular would you choose for an eatery so raucous as this? A strident? A clamor? Or perhaps something more daring? An uproar, if you will?”

“Loud, you dork!”

“A bit brash, don’t you think?”

“Why use big word when small word still good?” Shaal replied dumbly, earning a small chuckle from the ghost.

But of course, Shaal had possessed a solid argument. Why would someone use such extraneous terms when such shorter ones proved sufficient? An obvious mentality, so close to the ground, yet somehow still so far above the ghost’s head. But that was just yet another lesson the ghost had to learn. It had always been moments like these which solidified how much wiser and well put together Shaal was than the ghost. At the end of the day, the ghost could have pulled out every high-end term it knew and still wouldn’t have stood a candle to Shaal’s ever-glowing flame.

Was there even a point in the ghost talking at all?

It would have been better for the world if the ghost had just shut up permanently.

“S-sorry…” the ghost admitted with a drooping head. “You’re right. I-I shouldn’t…”

“Don’t apologize!” Shaal cried out in response. “I love my adorable, tall, walking thesaurus of a girlfriend! You describe things how you want to describe them!”

“B-but… you were—”

“Just teasing, you goof,” she eased. “Honestly, ‘cacophony’ is a pretty badass word. Describes this place pretty well, don’cha think? I should say it more often.”

A slight wag of the ghost’s tail twirled the air around it for a brief moment, only to tuck in on itself the instant the visage of something moving towards them entered its periphery. A waiter, a Human one, approached the table with a practiced deftness, dodging the frequent Venlilian and Yotulen tails which poked out the backs of each chair. They even curved easily around a table of drunken Gojids acting far too lax with their quills. Soon enough, the Human was right next to the two.

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We return!! Apologies for the long delay, I do hope to be publishing more than one chapter a month, but that all depends on life being calm and writers block not rising it's ugly head. Still, We love these characters so much and have finally completed a chapter for all to see. Thank y'all so much for your patience!

Thank you, u/SpacePaladin15 for this universe. May you always feel the passion of creation!

And thank you, u/TheManwithaNoPlan for all your work! This story is just as much yours as it is mine, and I cannot express just how honored I am to have you as my friend.

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Memory Transcript: Tarlim, Giant Foreman. Date: [Standardized Human Time] November 7th, 2136.

…Mmmmmmmmnnnnnn…

…

…Hhhhhhhhhnmmmm…

…Rrrrrfffffffffirst claw?

My eyelids felt like slabs on concrete against my eyes as I faded back into consciousness, uncomfortable to be under but too heavy to move. I could hear my heart beat thudding in my ear, pressed against itself from my sideways position. The bedding beneath me felt soft and warm, but I had a nagging feeling that I had something more important to do than remain on it, something I couldn’t afford to miss. Mustering my willpower, I managed to pry my eyes open just enough to see… nothing?

Ah, I woke up before my alarm. No wonder, considering how restless I was last paw.

It was all too good to be true: an offer to do a job I would love being handed to me as soon as I revealed my worries to Sharnet, a date with a wonderful woman that had both a marvelous tour of a gallery and a completely free meal at a luxury restaurant? Returning to the facility to find the paperwork I had asked Merva if she could help with all completed? Jacob giving a toast during “dinner” in the cafeteria to my new job and the rousing cheers that followed? It felt like a dream… and perhaps it was. I didn’t feel any different physically—not relatively speaking anyway—and the sheets beneath my sparely-furred skin felt familiar. Was… it all a dream?

*SKNREEEEKKK*

I felt my ears shoot up as a rattling snore interrupted my groggy first-claw thoughts. It was still too dark to make out any details, but as my eyes began to adjust to the lowered light levels, my mind only now noticed the light weight on my arm and chest. I centered my gaze on the spot I felt the pressure most firmly upon and… She was still here. 

She is still here.

I remembered, after last meal, Sharnet and I had decided to spend the evening just hanging out together and cuddling as we read or watched videos on our pads, chatting and showing each other what we found until the allure of sleep had eventually come for us both. By the Tenets, it was as if we had entered The Flow while it was at its most gentle and calm. Just us, together in the same room, acting like we had known each other our whole lives and not like we only met a few Herds ago. She had crawled right into my bed without giving me any chance of argument, curling herself between my arm and chest. Without my thick wool, I could feel every molecule of her still pressed up against me.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My head returned to its natural position as I stared at the darkness around me, soaking in the serenity of the pre-waking. This was… I didn’t know the right word to describe it to an acceptable capacity. Not even calling it perfect felt like it was adequately describing how natural and fulfilling it felt to have her next to me. It… it was like she was satisfying something nestled deep within my very nature,sSomething beyond the desire for Venlil to sleep close together to defend the herd. Even her snoring—loud and cutting as it was—produced an oscillation in the tip of my tail as I felt her chest rise and fall against me. I could just close my eyes once more, and stay here forever.

“Shame about that,” my body stated to me, “'cause if you don’t get to the bathroom in the next minute or so I am pretty sure my bladder is going to explode.”

I stifled a groan as I did my best to carefully extract myself from Sharnet, gently peeling her off of me despite my own wishes. Why must my body betray me like this, no fair at all! I praised the Tenets that we Venlil were deep sleepers, so I didn’t wake up Sharnet with my movements. Still, I couldn’t just leave her sprawled across the bed like a discarded fruit peel, so I took the moment and tucked my pillows for her to lean into so that even if I wasn’t present, she could still feel where I was. She seemed to take well to my surrogate, pressing her face into the clothen articles in her sleep.

So cute. I can really only see her outline, but I just know she’s so adorable.

“Indeed,” my body replied, “unfortunately now I don’t think you have enough time to put on your leg braces. You know what to do.”

Grabbing my braces from where I had left them, I immediately slid off the bed and drug myself toward the bathroom as fast as I could with my arms. Feeling the carpet beneath me transition to tile, I sla- I gently slid the door closed behind me after almost making a critical mistake. 

I may have a biological emergency, but that was no reason to disturb her. Of course, now came the issue of hauling myself onto th—

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<Nope, not looking at that. Not a chance.>

{Ah, come on Jaq. He’s already had his Little Stonebuilder out for all to see when he was high on pheromones! What’s so different about this?}

<...>

{Okay yeah you know what that’s fair.}

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I stepped out of the bathroom unsteadily, feeling along the wall as I carefully searched for where I remembered the main door to be. Sharnet’s snores had ceased, leaving the only sounds in the room now my footfalls and the gentle whirs of my leg braces. Using my memory—along with some more feeling around—I picked up my data pad and stood once again, looking at Sharnet unmoving upon the bed. We Venlil slept like death at our deepest, and that was a depth I still did not desire to stir her from. Wow, I am being poetic this waking, aren’t I? I shook my ears, suppressing a giggle as I grabbed the door handle and gently slid it open… only to find myself pressing my face into a fist.

“Woop!” Jacob barked, jolting his hand back, “Sorry! Ah-“

I cut him off with a shushing hiss, pressing a finger to my lips in imitation of the human gesture. I jerked my ears back, gesturing to the bed and Sharnet thankfully still asleep atop it. Recognition and understanding immediately spread across Jacob's face and he stepped back with a smile to allow my exit. “Shoot, sorry,” he whispered.

I flicked my ears understandingly as I gently slid the door shut, turning my attention back towards Jacob in full. His smile had turned into a smirk as he tilted his head up towards me. “Ya know, Ah could say so many things about you and her, but Ah think Ah’ll save that for breakfast. Prepare yourself, Tarlim, for Ah shall channel my most ribbing constriction- constrect- blelwle- bwla! Dammit, Ah was trying too hard to sound cool.”

I laughed, whistling in amusement at him stumbling over his words. “Key word being “trying.” Seems you and I are alike in our particular need of some caffeine. Gotta kickstart that brain of yours somehow.”

“Hey, not all’uv us can get by on jus’ 4 hours!” Jecob protested, crossing his arms at me. “Not like that matters much here, life goes on whether Ah get’ta be apart of it or not. We poor humans gotta make do.”

“Well, then let us be off to the cafeteria,” I gestured down the hall with a twirl of my paw. One of Jacob's eyebrows raised in response. “We’ll see if they have that blessed bean juice you so require!”

“Poetic today, ain’cha? Yer jus’ in a great mood today, huh,” he laughed, “and whoooo can blame ya? Gotta wonderful girl on yer bed, and ah night of such vigorous activity behind ya it has brought hair back onto yer chest and everywhere else on ya!”

I paused in my walk and stared at him. “That… what? I guess that was technically a coherent sentence.”

“A sentence of all time,” Jacob agreed, face flat. “Man, ah’m just bad at wording today.”

“Hee, honestly I am glad to hear that “wording” again. Been a bit since we’ve just been able to chat, hasn’t it?” I mused as we walked through the halls of the facility. Since most of the humans left, it’d gotten much quieter, but at this point in the paw I was grateful for that. A low cloud of brainfog still lingered in my head despite our conversation.

“Yeah, things just keep happening and- oh! Raght!”

I tilted my eye, feeling my ear touch the chilling with my head turn. “Hm?”

“Ah was coming ta get ya cause a big anteater guy arrived here! Said ya told ‘em to be here, that you had judged him and he had to obey you as his new…” Jacob snapped his fingers then pinched his beard trying to think. “Y’know, it didn’t really translate; ‘boss’ wasn’t quite right, but somehow similar to ‘Don?’ Whatever it was, he’s currently in the cafeteria with Sulven.” 

I flicked my ears in surprise. “Wha- already? I told him to come in later than this, right? I haven’t even had my first meal yet!”

“Then good thing he’s right where we’re eatin’!” Jacob smiled. “Plus, we can see how he handles being around humans while they eat too…” He paused, his smile turning into a sad frown. “And hopefully not get approached by anyone blaming him for Earth.”

Now that caught my attention. I stopped once more in my stride to look at him, though we did have to let a human who had been walking behind us pass by before continuing our conversation. Might need a better spot for this talk than the hallways.

“Are there still people who would do that here?” I asked regardless. “I was under the impression that attitude left along with the majority of the facility’s human population.”

“Not really something we can be rid of fully,” Jacob stated with a frustrated sigh. “Somethin’ Ah’ve noticed with people: when they lose somethin’ or someone they care about, they want retribution. An’ sometimes—shit, Ah mean all too often—they jus’ want an outlet to force their pain upon. Don’t even matter if it’s got anythin’ to do with it or not.”

My ears drooped, and I crouched so that I could be on his level and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I- uh,” wait, telling him you heard rumors about Humanity First cells being found dead won’t help! That’s just saying ‘it’s good more of your people died!’ Think brain, find something comforting!! “Well… I mean, ah, you humans aren’t alone in that. That kid I’m meeting was trying to do that exact thing to Sharnet before I stopped him. I know it’s a bit cynical, but humanity doesn’t have a monopoly on sheetee people.”

Jacob barked a laugh at my pronunciation of the human curse, and patted my hand. “Well, here’s to them also having the capacity to improve like ya hope fer that k—” His brow furrowed as he seemed to finally register everything I said. “Wait, that anteater was a kid?”

“Yeah! A Kid! He ran off here and tried to attack Sharnet on his own!! I might have broken his arms if Sharnet hadn’t noticed and stopped me!”

“Good Lawd! Why would he do that??”

I shrugged. “Sharnet thinks his parents were drug lords.”

“Ah.” He stated flatly, connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” I agreed, standing up.

“And ya think putting ‘im t’work here will help ’em not turn out like them?”

“I can only hope,” I confirmed,  just in time for my stomach to protest its emptiness. “However, that will have to be a task for after first meal. I’m starving!”

“Ah! Ah’m certain that your rigorous activity with Sharnet burnt off plenty of energy!” Jacob reached up and patted my back. “Repetitive movements are wonderful calorie burners after all!”

I squinted down at him, a little uncertain if I was understanding him correctly. “It… was?”

“Then it’s a good thing that we got a new full shipment of Tofu! So you’re going to be able to rebuild all that lost protein a’ yers in no time!!”

He IS!!

No matter how I focused, I was unable to prevent the formation of the bloom upon my face. Jacob quite naturally exploded in joy at the sight of my fluster and I playfully whapped his back with my tail tip. “Oh, you! Jacob- you… for that, you had better not be lying about the Tofu!”

“Ha!! Hey, the opportunity presented itself, Ah had to.” He jogged ahead, beating me to the cafeteria doors, holding them open for a burning white Venlil pair who reached it at the same time. “And you better believe Ah didn’t lie about the tofu! Fried with olive oil, garlic, and y’all’s firefruit juice!”

By the Tenets, give me strength to save some for Sharnet.

I felt my stride quicken as the scent of the first meal landed upon my to—

{-Command Requested: Awaiting Input-}

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{Ah, come on. Gonna skip the eating scene?}

<I’m more curious about that Rompalla kid, honestly.>

{Pfff, sure. Okay then.}

<What? What?!>

{( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) }

<GAH!! I told you to stop doing that, Vee! It sounds like angry static…>

{I am angry static!}

<You’re annoying static.>

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I had almost failed in my task.

The tofu was just so good, I almost devoured a whole serving tray of them before I had the proper presence of mind to set aside a plate for Sharnet. She was quite thankful for it when she arrived [5.483 minutes] after us, and she even gave me a loving nuzzle for “my strong providing boyfriend” before saying she was going to eat in the library to not distract from the meeting between me and the juvenile Rompalla. Just on time, really, as it started rather quickly afterwards with the boy walking up behind me and throwing himself to my feet.

“My Don! I am sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier, I didn’t recognize you!”

I swallowed my tofu, making sure I didn’t choke myself as I turned in my seat to address the boy. I needed to act stern and steady with him, that’s what he responded to. “Well, that is only natural as I am not wearing any outfit here. And I must say, you have impressed me by arriving early.”

The boy was nearly shaking as he pressed his head into the ground. “Y-yes! You honor me, sir!”

“You would have honored me better if you had never set down the path you’re upon right now,” I continued, trying to channel authority into my voice. Yes, authority was what I needed to display here. I had seen that there was a child on a horrible path and demanded he come here to set him off it. The fact that he arrived even though there wasn’t anything stopping him from running meant he was sincere in the desire. So as the man who called him, it was up to me to set him right…

How the Brahk do I do that?

“I-I’m sorry,” the boy groveled, “I let my anger get to me, I crossed into your territory. Please have mercy on me, Don.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but words failed me. When I had been holding him in my paws, furious at him for attacking Sharnet, it had seemed so obvious. Get him here and put him to work. But what lessons do I want him to learn? I claimed this responsibility, what do I-

“How goes it with the anteater?”

Despite Jacob having mentioned the animal the Rompalla resembled before, I still felt a shudder at the concept of something predating exclusively on insects. Jacob certainly had a way with introducing himself to a conversation. “No problems so far,” I answered him with a flick of my ear. “Though you have reminded me. You,” I talked down at the boy. “You have not introduced yourself. What is your name?”

“I- I am Thrempruff. I am sorry, I meant no disrespect.”

I reached behind me and picked my pad off the table, swiping through the apps to the employment tab. “Well, hrmm, okay! I ordered you here because quite frankly, you drift in a flow of rapids that will happily dash you upon the rocks and drag you down into an oblivion of the Still, your story remembered only as the path to be avoided by those who grow anew. Your survival thus far has been a stroke of luck, but when you attempted to attack my girlfriend, you came dangerously close to being dashed upon the rocks.”

To my side, I saw Jacob leaning back a bit in surprise. Honestly I didn’t blame him, that last sentence almost came out as a full growl. I couldn’t let myself get pissed at the kid, not while he’s still willing to learn. Focus. Breathe. Calm…

“...However,” I continued, “I believe that you can still get out of the dangerous current you’re caught in through proper learning, useful experience, and active work. You thought that all the world was how your family had done things, so I shall endeavor to shatter that viewpoint even more here. That is to say…”

I paused, my tongue feeling weird in my mouth. Was I starting to ramble? Thrempruff was still paying attention with both his eyes upon me, but his head had begun to tilt with confusion. I probably had to summarize to the point if I was t— 

Summarize to the point? Phrase your thoughts better, brain!

“I believe that constructive work is necessary for the health of the soul, even redemptive for those looking to heal from the past, and thus I am setting you to work as part of the kitchen crew of this facility as a trainee.”

Thrempruff’s head straightened at my command, but there was still a hesitant uncertainty in his eyes. “The kitchen?”

“Yes. It is not glamorous, but it is still something vital to be done. Providing food—the very lifeblood of… life, a necessity that I know you will feel the urgency of under the tutelage of your new boss.”

“New boss? I- I thought-”

“That you would be working under me?” I finished for him, “Sadly, I must delegate. I have been hired by the High Magister of this District to ensure that a highly important project is constructed with equally high quality.”

His eyes then filled with awe. While my exact feelings on that job were a bit complicated, the idea that I had a direct connection to the High Magister was seen as quite important to the Rompalla. It probably put me on the level of importance of his own father in his eyes, at least in terms of status. At the very least, that reverence will make him less resentful towards me for setting him to work under someone else.

Speaking of which!

I tilted my head up and gazed over toward the cafeteria serving line. Right nearby, taking a break from her self-appointed job, was exactly who I was hoping for. “Merva!” I bugled. Her ears immediately flicked towards me and she turned so an eye was looking at me. Her family followed her gaze to me, and I flicked my ears forward in calm and waved that I wished to speak with Merva specifically. 

With a stiff flick of approval from her tail, she stood and handed little baby Perl to her son Jervel; seemed I had interrupted a feeding, speh, I made sure to signal apologies as she approached. She didn’t respond of course, nothing beyond the slightest sway forward of her ears, but that little expression still said a lot. “Hello, Tarlim,” she flatly stated, “what may I do for you?”

I gave her a thankful bow, gesturing to Thrempruff with one hand and the filled application on my pad in the other. “This is Thrempruff. I have hired him on to work so that he might learn empathy for the plight of those here, and was hoping that you might take him under your wool and guide him so he may learn the ropes in a kitchen environment.”

“Ah yes, I do believe I know him already,” she responded, casting an eye upon the boy. “My husband and Jervel spoke with him earlier. I do believe he has much to learn, both in skills and tone. Yes, I shall lead him by my tail to be a proper man.”

She didn’t even hesitate as she turned and wrapped her tail around Thrempruff’s arm and began to pull him alone. “Come, the first meal-cleanup is soon to begin.”

Thrempruff stumbled a little at the first tug, but when I didn’t alter my expression at him, he quickly jolted forwards and followed her guide. “Ah! Yes, Madam Enforcer!” I watched them walk away, releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Twisting back around in my seat, I leaned onto the table and sighed. I prayed by the Tenets that I was doing the right thing.

A hand patted my back. Jacob was next to me, never having moved, smiling. “Redemption, huh?” He asked. “Think it will work for ‘em? Sonuva crime boss ‘n all?”

I shrugged. “He seemed willing. If people are willing to work and reenter the Flow, then I should give them the chances they deserve and support they need. Just… I hope I’m doing things right.”

“Those are wise words, Tarlim,” he soothed with a smile. “Chances they deserve and support they need if they’re willing. Ah will absolutely keep those words in mind.” Once he finished talking, however, he tilted his head at me. “...’Course, it looks like you got somethin’ else on yer mind, or someone?”

I didn’t think I made any changes to my features, but a smile crept across the human’s face before he flicked his hand towards the door. “Go on, git over to yer new girlfriend and give ‘er the rundown. I’ll keep an eye on how the kid’s doin.”

“...Are you sure?” I asked, briefly switching my attention between him and Thrempruff in the kitchen, struggling to figure out how to apply a fur net onto his head. Jacob simply raised an eyebrow at me, and I knew him well enough to interpret what that meant. “Hee, thanks Jacob. I owe you one.”

“Jus’ make sure it’s diluted this time! Don’t wanna end up pukin’ my guts out like on that train ride!” He joked as I stood and made my way towards the door. I flicked my tail mischievously at him as if to say without words, “No promises!”

Now, to be in the company of the most wonderful woman in my life! …Maybe she’ll have some leftover tofu.

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