Our plan began an hour ago with me attempting to order some snacks. Opening the sleek website, a selection of twenty or so goods presented itself to me. Choosing at random, I clicked on four different options before proceeding to checkout. Here, I simply had to insert my email, and room number, before authorizing the payment of thirty points using my school card (of which involved scanning it with my phone). Having undertaken the process, we were greeted with the news that it would arrive by tomorrow morning, during some unstated time. To our guess, we would be able to confront whoever delivered the goods, and thereby procure information about their chain of command. It was a solid idea if I say so myself. Not perfect. But solid by metric of us being in a school environment and the bias that it shouldn’t be too difficult to solve the issue.
“Damn, the wait is killin’ meh!”
Ceylica bobs up and down on the sofa, hands shaking all the while. From what I can tell, she’s quite excited over the whole affair. No doubt, eager to exercise her power and authority over some hapless high schooler looking to make a quick buck.
“Just wait,” I reassure softly. “I’ve asked quite a few students to keep watch for their deliveries, so we can assess whoever’s sending them”.
“Ye, I know, I know.”
“You know, but you still can’t help it.”
“Yep.”
“Just think about what you’re going to do with them.” I remind her. “Come up with something fun, like holding them feet first over a bucket.”
Ceylica nods her head up and down, evidently thinking it over.
“Maybe you can make them your slave or something.”
I bite my lip, hardly believing what I said. Is this what years of moral guidance by Guillaume amounted to? Suggesting to keep someone as a slave? They do say you take after those around you, but hopefully, it doesn’t reach the extent of Ceylica.
I mean…
Would I really want a servant?
My gaze loosely settles on the catboy across the sofa. Then, as if prompted by his existence, I find myself considering that, just maybe, having a cute guy obey my every whim wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Your gaze approaches flirtation, madam.”
Heat returns to my cheeks. Across, the boy’s leaf-green eyes settle on me, prodding me to reply.
“Ahem.” I manage to let out, thereby suppressing my embarrassment. “I was just looking, respectfully.”
No use in denying it. All that’s left for me at this point is to salvage whatever dignity I have left.
…
Actually, why do I need to salvage my dignity in the first place?
I’m not some kind of prude with antiquated morals. Let a girl have her moment, dammit, what shame can I lose from just looking?!
“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Beautiful things deserve to be looked at, hehehe.”
The half-demon looks to me, chuckling, arms folded as if taking great amusement. Together, the couple share in their glee, no doubt seeing me as some unfortunate, if not entertaining, third wheel.
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The morning following our plan was, as one with hindsight might’ve seen, a testament to our failure. The parcel had arrived, yes, but the plan itself was not without frustration. We had situated students all across campus, having asked them to keep watch of any deliveries in the potential early morning. Despite this relatively simple request, however, none seemed to have actually managed. Just this morning, upon greeting a snoring student at our dorm door, Ceylica had been informed of the tragic news. That, he had fallen asleep just shortly after 1 am, and promptly given up on his duty. Were it not for my intervention, I very well believe that she might’ve sent him flying to outer space or dunked him headfirst into the toilet.
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Considering what was at stake, her expression was justified. No one likes to lose money, least of all me. Given that it wasn’t my own that was actively hurdling down the drain, though, I managed to be the voice of reason and, through nonchalant words of appraisal, soothe whatever fury she had.
Sort of.
She still settled on having the poor sod carry her bags for the entire day, but I guess that isn’t too bad. Better some extra weight on your shoulders than being shoved into a toilet.
When we settled the question of punishment and due justice, however, we were faced with the greater issue at hand.
What were we going to do next?
Since our chain of command strategy had gone into the gutter, our next course of action was to move on and come up with something new. While we could’ve waited another day and repeated our same approach, Ceylica was insistent on otherwise. Again, a matter of money.
Inappropriate as it is to my situation, I ponder over the matter, eyes staring blankly into the distance.
“Eat up!”
At this moment, a force equivalent to a localized nuke falls on my shoulder. The pain, substantial as it is, immediately wakes me up from my reverie. Now thrust back into the land of the living, I sigh and continue my lunch.
“Ye won’t get the energy to think for meh if ye don’t eat, Morg!”
“Right…”
I try to pick up my fork. As I do so, a quiver of pain courses through my nerves, originating from my shoulder but extending all the way to my fingertips.
Whatever strength Ceylica has, she sure can’t control it…
“So, ye got any new ideas?”
Asking from across the table, Ceylica’s eyes demand answer.
“Not as of the moment.”
No sooner than I reply, the girl leans forward and stabs a piece of meat off my lunch tray.
“That’s yer punishment.”
While watching this minor spectacle, I sigh and continue to eat. What remains of our lunch period then passes. Normally, I’d then walk to my next class and carry out chatting, however…
“What do I do with my free period?”
Today is not one of those days. With no class after lunch, a time slot of an hour has been allotted to yours truly. Deciding to muse it over fresh air, I make my way outside and settle on a nearby bench. Of all the places to sit, this one proves both comfortable and relatively quiet.
Not too quiet, mind you, as there are other wayward students around. But quiet to the point where I can still hear the wind blow and birds chirp in the distance. Proceeding to rest my computer bag by my side, I take out my laptop and phone, setting them both on the resin table in front of me. I then set about working. Toiling away at the usual, managing projects and decisions, reconciling irresponsible financial records, and whatnot.
About fifteen minutes in, however, I find my thoughts pulled away by a succession of high-pitched bings coming from my cellphone. Given that I turned my notifications for anything except important things off, this naturally poses as some interest. So, there I sit, clicking the side button on my cellphone screen—only to be greeted by the name Lucius Mortius. And not only his name but his name under the notification Transaction has been Completed.
This, I infer by the funds allocated, is a result of my paycheck. But, what I do not infer is why. He’s about a week too early, and the sporadic succession of sending my payment across five different transactions is abnormal, all things considered. Feeling at odds with this, I reach for my steel bottle and drink from it, as if gulping down mouthfuls of cold water will help me process it better.
“Hm.”
Try as I might, even with a minute of thinking, no reasons still come to mind. Could this just be one of Lucius’s silly pranks? I mean, I’ve never thought of him as one to do something like it unless there’s some great incentive, but as of the moment, what incentive is there?
I lift my head, watching an orange leaf whistle by, gently falling to the ground. Somehow, it occurs to me at this moment that the orange leaf is particularly reminiscent of a brand of candy called million, which happens to specialise in what one might call, ‘orange flavoured candies’, and it is at this moment of occurrence that I am consequently reminded that I could do with one.
Eat.
Yes, but what does eating have to do with anything?
Well, you can profit off the people eating by selling snacks…
And who sells snacks?
Ceylica.
And how do you sell snacks?
With a banking system.
And when did this new website to sell goods come in?
Two days ago.
And when did Lucius and I come in?
FIVE DAYS AGO.