The shopping went well, she thought.
After Green left, and the kids ate the abomination Beasty and Miles had wrought, she gathered them all and decided to spend another fuckton of cash, but this time, to solve problems for them and not herself. They went to a mall.
Max could tell that these kids would have been satisfied with the bare-boned basics.
They did not, in fact, get the bare-boned basics.
Max went hard on luxury and comfort buys, on new clean clothes that didn't hold on to the funk of homelessness, on soft sheets with designs they all got to pick out for their own spaces. Fluffy bath towels. Fluffy rugs and throw pillows that everyone got to vote on if it went in the shared spaces. Hygiene products like new brushes and toothbrushes. Deodorant. Shampoos and hand-folded soaps. Bath salts. A laundry detergent they all agreed smelled nice.
They picked the final bed for the final bedroom and a couch for the living room. A dining room table and chairs. Dishes.
All the stuff they needed to make a house a home. All the stuff they hand-picked to make a home theirs.
When they were done, she scheduled movers to deliver all the big stuff she didn't want to mess with later that afternoon, and Steve --wonderful, perfect Steve-- brought them back home to the store.
On the door, attached by a piece of cheap tape, was a sealed envelope that was addressed only "To The Owner." It had no return address, but Puppy said it smelled like tobacco and thug, whatever smell that is. It was also, very conveniently, right next to a cracked window.
Damn, if they cracked the window with that obscene amount of wards I have on it, whoever did this probably used a gun. Someone is shooting out my windows? Why?
After entering the store, making sure all the beasties were inside and safe, closing the door and locking it, and applying an assessing eye to her favorite wonky shadows to make sure they were still there and okay, she read the note.
It tried very, very hard to sound official as if sent from the city or a government agency. Unfortunately, the person that wrote this note had to have had a reading level just below Flower's. Way, way below Beasty's. Probably equal to Puppy's though, he doesn't seem that bright.
The letter went into great detail about how, in order to operate a business in The Company's District, she needed to pay for a permit. And pay for insurance, through, you guessed it, the Company. Pay for the privilege of parking in her own parking lot. All the windows in her building also needed a permit.
These idiots can't even throw down correctly spelled flags, the stupid shits. Max snorted. She put the letter face up on a counter. She pulled out her phone, absently putting her bag on the floor. She dialed a number. Left a message. Put her phone in her back pocket, and turned to the kids.
"Okay, beasties. Let's all go to the bench in the back. We're doing a medical check-up, making sure you're all fit as fiddles, and I'm gonna teach you all a basic Cleansing cantrip. It's for when you spill something on your clothes. Any clothes you kids have that have lingering smells on them that the detergent can't cut, use Cleanse on them. If it doesn't work, either toss them out or store them, please. We'll go shopping for anything we missed tomorrow. Come on."
"I think she's saying you stink, Merri." Flower snickered. He sure was blooming.
In the previous 24 hours, he'd gone from trying to hide in her presence to flipping Puppy shit. Food and safe sleep does a boy good? Good. Give 'em hell, kid.
"Shut up, Budge." Oh, ho. Puppy sure does sound pissy.
Flower’s right, though. They all are a little pungent.
Max was already heading back to the back when Beasty spoke up.
"What about the window? And the extortion? What about that?" Max stopped walking while she answered. She turned around to look at her. Miles was perched on Beasty's shoulder.
"Oh, Beasty, baby, my precious little child. These things are why I have a lawyer. If they keep up with their shit, Mr. Green will eat their godsdamned fingers off." Max smiled a huge smile. A wicked smile. It was a treat to have an evil, conniving, vindictive lawyer on her side. In her 'family'. He'd issued an offer to be in her bed, too, but she was still undecided.
For some reason, Puppy got pale. Must be the magic in the shop, again. Damn. I'll need to get him something for that. A personal anti-magic ward? Maybe.
She started walking again. They all marched back to the alchemy bench and the three kids looked at each other as if daring the others to go first.
"It won't hurt. I'm not going to take blood or anything. Just a check-up. A touch is all." She cooed at them. Cajoled. Patted the little stool in front of the bench. Pointed.
Flower stepped up first.
"Look at you, being the bravest of the lot. Good job, Flower. You can have the last piece of cake from last night that I was saving for myself tonight, after dinner.” She patted his little bony shoulder. She needed to pump these kids full of food. They were all too thin. “You also have my permission to eat it in front of the other two, because cowards don't get cake." Flower smiled his evil grin and looked at his brother and sister in triumph.
Puppy and Beasty both groaned really loud. Calls of "That's not fair!" and "The fuck, Budger!" and “But it was so good!” were muttered.
"Don't listen to the haters, sweetness. They just want your cake. This will be quick." She smiled her biggest smile at him and he relaxed. "Good job, kid. Now, I'm just gonna touch your head. Is that cool?" Flower nodded. He closed his eyes. She touched the crown of his head and closed her eyes.
Multi Cast: [Calm], [Diagnose Illness], [Diagnose Disease], [Diagnose Parasite], [Diagnose Curse], [Diagnose Blessing], [Diagnose Injury], [Cleanse], [Mend], [Remove Illness], [Remove Disease], [Remove Curse], [Max's Healing] = Spell Created: [Divine Doctor's Touch]
[Divine Doctor's Touch]: (Hidden, goddess spell, Unique) Cure almost any ailment. Heal [10*int+wis] damage to yourself or others. Touch range. 10MP. Instant cast. No cool down.
Not bad for a spell I just pulled out of my ass.
Max tried to cram as many healing abilities as she could think of in that one cast, and man, did she ever. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do would work-- casting abilities vary from person to person, world to world, system to system. Her system was technically piggybacking off of Miles, back from when he was still a system and not a demigod war golem, so it seemed that whatever she wanted goes.
Fucking sweet. I am so hax.
It took her mind a moment to wade through her smugness to realize what the spell bounced back. She saw the diagnosis, and her fingers clenched into fists.
"Flower? Baby boy? Why are you cursed?" She asked gently, and his shoulders rounded and his body curled into itself.
If he didn't want to answer, she wouldn't make him. But she really wanted that answer. The more she read it, the angrier she got. She tried to bank it because she didn’t want the kids to think it was directed at them.
Curse of the Wolf Witch: Feel pain when you think positive thoughts about your beast. Indefinite duration.
He answered like it had been asked of him before. It probably had.
"Because I'm a raven and not a wolf. Some people think it makes me special. The pack witch thought it made me a monster. She kept trying to remove my animal, but I wouldn’t let her. So, she was trying to get me to do it myself. It won't come out because it's in my soul." He shrugged like it wasn't a big, godsdamned deal.
Stolen novel; please report.
But it was a big, godsdamned deal.
She kept a straight face. Barely.
"That's so, so incredibly fucked up, and on so many levels that I think I need to punch something. Okay.” She took a deep breath. Forced herself to calm down. “I removed that and you should be back to normal. Maybe better?” She grinned at him and smoothed a hair off of his forehead that had fallen down. Man, these kids kinda reek. “And... ah, where did you guys say your pack was? What town?"
Fucking flags. But okay. This flag is one I'm glad to see. Not that it's there, but now that I've seen it, I can do something about it.
Flower told her the town's name. If she didn't make a personal visit, maybe she'd call in a favor from Green. Contract The Shitty Company to go bust heads, since they are apparently the local riff-raff. Hire a godsdamned hitman. She'd ask Puppy later if he wanted to learn how to [Smite] so he could do it himself.
Okay.
She turned to the others and said with a big, fake smile, “Our Flower is absolutely healthy and fine. This spell just probably cured his cavities. Next!"
Beasty had a surprise of her own to give Max.
"Don't be mad, okay? It was my idea." Beasty was nervous. Her hand drifted up to Miles, who was on her shoulder, and Miles looked guilty.
Ever see a spider look guilty? Max hadn’t either, not that she could remember, not throughout all her lives and deaths and years, so it was perplexing.
A foreboding feeling. Max's hand hesitantly touched Beasty's head. The fuck?
Miles’s Neural Lace: [Hidden, demigod blessing] You have the ability and hardware to interact with and command machines and networks, up to and including a level 1 firewall. [Blessed by the demigod Miles, permanent]
Sigh.
Flag. Okay, so Miles has locked into a hero route playthrough. Or this is possibly, more than likely, his villain origin story. I tried to tell him, but nooooo, 'I don't want to listen to the monster that has seen everything.' He is going to run us headlong, headfirst into this. This heartache. He’s all in on the kids. Okay. I guess we're doing this, then.
"I guess I'll have to have a talk with Miles about it later. I'm not mad. At either of you." Max took a moment to put the words together. "It's probably a good thing someone other than me can hear him. It would save me time from trying to make his speaker if he tagged all of you."
And added, "In the future, I'd like it if you both didn't feel like you had to hide stuff like this.” She looked directly at Beasty, “ I know we are not there yet, that you don’t feel you can yet, but I made a promise to keep you safe, and that means even from me. And Miles. So. There's that."
Max thought for another minute. "Don't steal money from anyone unless you clear it with me first."
She thought some more, "Do you know exactly what he did, or?"
Beasty looked at her earnestly. "No, he just cast something on me and now I can talk to him. And see the internet really good." Beasty grabbed her backpack that was on the floor at her feet. She tugged it up and opened it. Pulled out two sodas. She offered one to Max, and Max put it on the countertop. “Vending machines do what I say now, too.”
"Okay. My rule about stealing money stands. You need to do it right or we get mad people up in our faces. Vending machines are free game."
Puppy had his own little issues.
At least it's flag-free. It's just going to be a shit conversation.
"You have a venereal disease? I cured it, but maybe in the future, don't stick it in questionable people? Sometimes, it's worth it if the... wait.” Max belatedly remembered she was talking to a teenager. “I don't have anything else to say about it. It sucks, I know. It's gone now, though. But I'm definitely teaching you guys Cleanse and maybe Heal tonight because I don't want to ever have this conversation again." Max said that sentence super fast, and was really, really glad it was over. It was out there, and she'd never have to say it to Puppy again. Hopefully.
Maybe.
Gods, she hoped so.
Puppy was mortified. He teared up. He cussed about a dude named Clark. His face crumbled and his eyes looked heartbroken and betrayed.
I did not see that coming. I made other assumptions. Lesson learned again, Max, that it's not your place to assume. It's fine. I'm so done with tonight. What a horrible journey these kids have had.
"Okay, I'm done. You beasties gather 'round to learn a cantrip or two. Then you get to do laundry and unpack all your new stuff." She rubbed her hands together and then shook them out, as if to shake off bad thoughts, and started the planned teaching portion of the evening.
She walked the kids through the tricks of using a rhyme, made up to personally resonate with their own minds, to cast what she would consider to be level zero spells. The ones that usually came standard in system worlds, if you specialized into them: Cleanse and Minor Heal.
Casting without an interface was a neat trick and it took her dozens of lives to figure it out, but she was proud she could pass on this info to kids that had never been treated as if they would amount to anything. If they did it right, and devoted enough time and energy to it, they could grow their mana pools big enough for bigger things, but now wasn’t the time to bring up their long-term plans.
Tonight was for building pack bonds. For Max to ease herself into thinking this was going to work. Showing the kids that she cared about their health, showing Miles that she was now all in, too, and applying a gentle hand here and there to provide comfort. Succor. Much like the plants in her greenhouse, aiding the new growth of a newly built family.
She was emotionally tired. Wrung out. Talked out. But she had to have one more, possibly horrible, talk after this.
Just exist.
After the lesson, the kids went to do whatever they do in their apartment. Hopefully bathing. The sun was going down and the furniture delivery people left hours ago.
Max shifted into a sparrow and flew to the top of her greenhouse. She sat on a rafter and thought. She looked down on the circle of trees, the herbs that were growing, and at all the life she had made possible in her miniature demesne. This was all concrete and lifeless a month ago.
After the conversation with Miles, she tucked her little beak under her wing and rested her eyes.
----------------------------------------
Max: Why'd you bless the Beasty?
Miles: Because I wanted another friend.
Miles: I wanted someone else to hear me. Sometimes, you don't want to talk and I've had enough silence.
Miles: Sometimes, when you do talk, it makes me sad.
Miles: I wanted her to talk to me because she's funny. And smart. And mostly happy.
Max: ...
Max: I'm not mad. That's a fair point. You should tag the other two, too. I was scared it'd give them a system initiation, but if it didn't, then that is fine.
Max: We should all be able to talk to each other. I guess we are their pack now, huh?
Max: Just... don't think you need to hide stuff, okay? I'm not a monster. I mean, I am, but never to you guys, okay?
Max: I’m in it for the long haul, Miles. We will do this together and see it through. To whatever end.
Max: I’m sorry I made you feel alone.
Miles: It’s okay, Max. I’m in it for you, too. Thanks for understanding. And for not soldering me to anything. Or to myself.
----------------------------------------
In a high-rise office across town, an average-looking man called “Enter.”
"We just got a cease and desist letter from a lawyer, Boss." The henchman today was less nervous. Still nervous, but less. He walked into the office after knocking and immediately started speaking. He stood at attention in front of the Boss's desk, holding a big brown envelope full of what was presumably papers.
The Boss narrowed his eyes. "From who?" He was sitting at his wooden desk with his sleeves rolled up. His arms were on his desk and he had a pen in his hand. He had a pile of papers in front of him. A different, but matching jacket was hung on the back of the door.
The past few weeks had been stressful but calm. No news isn't always good news. He was waiting for whoever had declared a shadow war on his business to make their next move.
"Greenleaf Law, on behalf of a new shop near the docks, in the old neighborhood. Used to be the Ellson's main distributing warehouse. It was turned into a greenhouse and herb shop."
"Who sold that asset?"
"Mel signed off on it, Boss. It was after you sent out the notice we needed to cut some fat and raise some cash. He was approached by the lawyer for it. He sold it for a mint. I'm not surprised it's already ready to open, they were throwing around credits like it was going out of style. The construction and refurb were fast."
"And it was sold a month ago?" Boss rolled up his sleeves and pulled open a drawer. He got out a ledger and started flipping pages.
"More like three weeks." Henchman was still at attention. The Boss didn't care if they slouched or stood like the good little toy soldiers they were, as long as they were concise and brief.
He flipped and flipped until he found the page he was looking for. He drew some lines between some dots in his head.
The Boss looked down at a page. "What's the cease and desist say? What was it in response to?"
"Mel sent the standard 'cost of doing business in the neighborhood' letter in the old Ellson turf. Shot out a window on his way out. Said the place looked flush. Full of merch, and the building looked like a premium build." The henchman sounded like he was reciting something. Like he had rehearsed this speech. Or he had been told exactly how to say it.
Boss did some thinking. He had suspicions. He also had a hunch.
"Send an apology letter to Greenleaf Law. Agree to the desist order." Boss put the ledger back in the drawer of the desk. "Then, I want you to send a team to set fire to the building."
The henchman went to move out of the door and stopped. "The law office building?"
"No, the warehouse. Don’t burn it all the way down, but give it some scorch marks. Let’s send a message to whoever thinks they don’t have to play ball that we own the stadium.”
----------------------------------------
Later that night, Max was startled awake in her sparrow form, with the sound of bullets hitting glass, and of her wards screeching alarm.