Chapter 1: The Fireplace Flirtation
Chapter Text
The common room of the inn had begun to quiet for the night. Chairs were turned over on tables, the hearth crackled softly, and the air smelled faintly of woodsmoke, tea, and a hint of melted honey butter from the evening’s dessert.
Terra sat cross-legged on the rug near the fire, a low bench behind her supporting an open toolkit and several gears and bits of metal that sparkled with faint enchantments. Her sleeves were rolled, her fingers smudged with oil and spell-paste. Her expression was calm, focused—until she sensed someone approaching.
"Hey there,” said a voice just a little too close. “Whatcha workin’ on?”
She didn’t look up.
He smelled like stale wine and something trying very hard to be cologne. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him leaning with one arm on the fireplace mantle, trying to angle himself into her line of sight.
"You always sit down here alone?” he asked, casual, coaxing. “A girl like you shouldn’t have to keep warm by herself.”
Behind the bar, Jayce glanced up from wiping down glasses.
“Oh no,” he muttered.
Viktor didn’t look up from his notes.
"Two silver says he makes a comment about her eyes within thirty seconds.”
Jayce grinned.
"You’re on.”
Down at the hearth, the man tried again.
"You’ve got that mysterious thing going for you. Kinda intense. I like that.”
Terra still didn’t speak. She quietly set her tools aside, placed both hands on the floor, and stood.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The man’s smug expression flickered as she rose—and kept rising. She stood just shy of six feet, lean and wiry with a stare like cracked granite. She didn’t need to say anything. Her height, the grease on her fingers, and the absolute lack of amusement in her expression said it all.
He backed up a step.
“Uh—I was just saying hi.”
She tilted her head slightly. Still silent.
He cleared his throat.
“Y’know what? Never mind. You have a good night.”
He retreated. Quickly.
Jayce slapped a coin into Viktor’s palm.
"Eyes,” he muttered. “Ten seconds after the mysterious line.”
Viktor smirked faintly.
"They always think they’re original.”
Terra sat back down in front of the fire without a word.
Jayce leaned on the bar.
"Should we ask her if she wants in on the betting pool?”
"She would destroy us,” Viktor said.
Jayce nodded.
“…Fair.”
Chapter 2: The Aftermath Reinactment
Summary:
Jayce and Viktor have far too much time on their hands. Terra regrets knowing them.
Notes:
Word count: ~1000
Chapter Text
The fire crackled. Terra had returned to her quiet place at the hearth, this time with her arms folded, head slightly bowed, tools resting untouched beside her.
She was trying very hard not to react.
At the bar, Jayce cleared his throat.
> “So uh—yeah, hey. You come here often? Wow, those are… intense eyes. Bet you melt ice cubes just by looking at them.”
Viktor replied in a low deadpan, mimicking Terra’s exact stoic posture.
> “My ancestors are judging you.”
> “What are you working on? You know, you don’t have to warm yourself alone…”
> “I prefer solitude. Especially from beings who smell like they bathed in regret and vinegar.”
Jayce laughed and broke character, slumping over the counter.
> “Okay, okay, that one’s not fair. He didn’t smell that bad.”
> “He smelled like expired charm and a side of unresolved issues.”
Terra didn’t look up.
> “Are you two done?”
Jayce raised a finger.
> “One more reenactment. I’m gonna try it from the stool-sit angle. That was his second mistake.”
Viktor sighed, pushed back from the bar, and retrieved a candle to mimic her lighting.
> “We need props. Someone get a cloak. And a bad attitude.”
---
Across the Room…
Mara, the inn’s top server and betting board mastermind, stood in the hallway with her arms crossed.
She watched with unimpressed amusement as Jayce attempted a theatrical lean and nearly fell off the stool.
> “Do you ever do anything useful with your downtime?” she asked.
> “We’re preserving history,” Viktor said. “Educational. Archival.”
> “You’re both lucky she didn’t break your kneecaps.”
From her spot by the fire, Terra finally looked up.
> “Yet.”
Jayce froze mid-gesture.
Viktor turned slowly, looked at her, and whispered:
> “See? That. That’s why we don’t flirt with the forest witch.”
---
Betting Board Update:
That evening, Mara added a new entry to the chalkboard behind the bar:
New Entry:
“Fireplace Flirtation Fallout”
– Coin exchange: Viktor +2 silver
– Jayce: Emotionally scorched
– Terra: Untouched. Superior. Looming.
Chapter 3: Attempt #2 (Poor Bastard)
Summary:
Another contender. Another mistake. Jayce now keeps coins in every pocket for betting emergencies.
Notes:
Word count: ~1000
Chapter Text
It was a slow night.
The common room had that soft buzz of background chatter and clinking glasses—the kind of atmosphere that made bad decisions feel romantic.
Which is exactly the mindset the next idiot must have been in.
He was younger than the first. Slightly. Sweaty. Definitely intoxicated. He stumbled up to Terra where she sat on her bench, working quietly on a tiny rotating mechanism that hissed with occasional runes.
> “Heyyyyy,” he slurred. “You a mechanic or an angel?”
From behind the bar, Jayce did a slow, dramatic turn.
> “Oh come on. Again?”
Viktor didn’t even look up from his book.
> “Five silver says he doesn’t make it to a second question.”
> “Taking that bet.”
---
The Mistake
The man leaned closer.
Terra set down the tool in her hand.
> “I’ve got a question for you, actually,” she said, voice calm.
He blinked, hopeful.
She reached behind her and grabbed a small object. A delicate, polished accessory with a faint green glow and some very suspicious metal teeth.
> “What do you weigh?”
> “Uh—what?”
> “Never mind. I’ll find out.”
She pressed a rune. The device clicked. Whirred. Then snapped forward in a burst of spring-loaded motion that clamped harmlessly—but loudly—around the man’s wrist.
He screamed.
It buzzed.
He tried to shake it off.
It zapped him lightly.
He screamed again and stumbled backward, bumping into a chair and knocking over a half-finished pint.
The room stared.
Mistress Curl—sleeping in the rafters—opened one eye. Judged him. Went back to sleep.
---
The Aftermath
The man fled. Probably back into whatever swamp spat him out.
Jayce tossed a coin onto the bar.
> “Ugh. One question does count, technically.”
Viktor flipped a page.
> “She asked first.”
Terra returned to her work in silence.
Jinx peeked around the corner with a cookie in her mouth.
> “You guys still betting on flirt failures?”
> “Always,” said Mara from her usual spot, marking the board with a new tally.
> “I want in.”
> “You already have a line. It’s just titled ‘Jinx Chaos: Misc.’”
> “Fair.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: “Attempt #2: Wrist Zap Edition”
Jayce: -5 silver
Viktor: Quietly smug
Terra: Unbothered. Victorious.
Jinx: Offered to “improve” the accessory for future test subjects
Chapter 4: Quiet at the Hearth
Summary:
Viktor and Terra. No flirting. No tension. Just quiet honesty and deeply earned stillness.
A bit more serious tone just for some world building.
Notes:
Word count: ~1400
Chapter Text
The hearth was down to its last few coals, glowing like sleepy fireflies. Most of the inn had gone still—Jinx had been dragged to bed after trying to build a raccoon detector, and Jayce had passed out in the hallway halfway through telling himself a bedtime story.
Only Terra remained in the main room, seated with her back to the hearth bench. A thick blacksmithing manual was balanced across her knees, but she wasn’t reading. She stared at the glowing coals with that stillness only she could carry—like part of her had grown into the floorboards.
The silence stretched.
Then footsteps.
Soft. Uneven.
She didn’t have to look up to know it was Viktor.
---
He crossed the room at a measured pace, leaning on his cane with each step. His coat hung loosely off one shoulder. A dark blanket draped over his arm. He didn’t speak until he’d carefully settled into the cushioned chair near the fire.
> “I assumed you’d be the last one awake.”
> “I assumed you’d forget to sleep again.”
He blinked at her. She didn’t look at him.
Then she smirked.
Just slightly.
Viktor snorted.
---
They sat like that for a while. Not quite in companionable silence—but not awkward either. Just two people with nothing to prove, nothing to chase, and nothing pressing enough to push them apart.
Eventually, Terra reached for her book again but didn’t open it.
> “They always expect something else.”
Viktor glanced over.
> “Hmm?”
> “People. When they flirt. Or ask you to dinner. Or give you a look they think is subtle.” She waved a hand vaguely at the air. “There’s always some expectation attached. A direction it’s supposed to go.”
> “Romance,” Viktor murmured, almost distastefully.
She nodded.
> “Sex,” he added, a little more distastefully.
Another nod.
> “I’ve never understood the point of either.”
That made her glance over at him. His tone was calm—clinical, almost—but not rehearsed. He wasn’t making a statement. Just… telling the truth.
Terra tilted her head.
> “Same.”
---
They were quiet again.
But this time, it was different.
Not distant.
Closer.
---
Viktor leaned his cane gently against the chair and drew the blanket around his legs.
> “When I was younger, I thought I was broken. Everyone was running around like overcaffeinated hummingbirds trying to fall in love or… whatever the other thing is. And I just wanted to be left alone with my ideas.”
> “Same,” she said again, quieter this time.
> “Then I tried. Once.” He looked into the fire. “Disaster.”
She let out a quiet breath—almost a laugh.
> “Same.”
---
He looked over. She was watching the fire again, but there was a faint crease in her brow. Something fragile hiding just under the surface.
> “I don’t mind people,” she said. “I even love some of them. But not like they want. Not like that.”
> “They think you’re withholding,” Viktor murmured.
> “They think I’m afraid.”
> “They always do.”
---
She folded her arms.
> “I don’t hate affection. I don’t hate people. I just don’t want their version of it. And when you try to explain that…” she trailed off, then added, “They look at you like you’re a glitch.”
> “Or a puzzle they can solve.”
> “Or worse—like a challenge.”
Viktor grimaced and nodded slowly.
> “Yes. That.”
---
They sat again in silence. But now it hummed with unspoken understanding.
Terra leaned back slightly, arms still folded, eyes soft.
> “You ever… wish you could make people understand without having to explain?”
> “Constantly.”
> “Ever get tired of feeling like you don’t belong in your own story?”
He looked over at her.
For once, he didn’t have a clever answer.
Just a tired one.
> “Yes.”
---
The fire popped.
And then, gently, without ceremony, Terra shifted her legs to stretch out slightly—just enough to share the warmth.
Viktor didn’t say anything.
But he adjusted the edge of his blanket to cover the small space between them.
Not touching.
Just there.
---
They didn’t have to explain it.
They just… were.
Two people who didn’t want romance.
Didn’t need sex.
Didn’t crave attachment in the way others demanded.
But still loved. Deeply. Quietly.
In the way that mattered.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: “The Hearth Pact”
Participants: Viktor & Terra
Dialogue: Minimal
Emotional Impact: Devastating
Quote of the Night: “Same.”
Mara’s Note: Softest moment on record. Jinx is not allowed to touch this one.
Chapter 5: Mara's Code System and Betting Board Expansion
Summary:
One betting board wasn’t enough. We now have secret signals, colored pins, and weaponized eye contact. Chaos has structure now. Be afraid.
Notes:
~1400 words
Chapter Text
Mara didn’t set out to become the inn’s unofficial operations manager.
It just happened.
One day she was hired as a part-time server with sharp handwriting and sharper observation skills. The next, she was organizing supply shelves, mediating staff conflicts, and drafting diagrams for how to stack chairs without collapsing the multiverse.
And then, of course, came the Board.
---
The Origin of the Code
It started with a note.
Then a tally.
Then a snarky comment about Jayce’s romantic failures.
Then a running log of how many times Viktor forgot to eat.
Eventually, it grew.
By now, the Betting Board behind the bar was covered in chalk lines, color-coded pins, small sketches, and a corner labeled “Miscellaneous Jinx.”
But one day, Mara had had enough.
---
The Trigger
It was mid-afternoon.
The inn was full. The bar was packed. Jinx was duct-taping frog hats to mugs and calling it “branding.”
And in the middle of it all, a customer wouldn’t stop following Terra around asking her what she was doing, why she was doing it, and if she was “one of those mysterious girls who just needs the right guy.”
Jayce was busy. Viktor was pretending not to exist. Jinx was selling chaos.
Mara caught Terra’s eye from across the room.
It was a look.
And Mara understood.
She walked over.
Took the man by the arm.
Led him to a table with no windows and a suspicious draft.
And left him there.
When she returned, she opened her notebook.
> “We need a system.”
---
The Meeting
That night, Mara gathered the full staff.
Viktor was trying to leave.
> “Sit down, Sparkles,” she said.
> “I have no reason to—”
> “Do you want Terra to vaporize the next idiot in the common room?”
> “…Proceed.”
She laid out the chart.
> “This is the Code System. You feel uncomfortable, harassed, cornered, overwhelmed, or generally not up to dealing with nonsense? Use your code.”
---
The Codes
Each person got a color and symbol:
Terra: Silver leaf
Viktor: Blue hex
Jayce: Red lightning bolt
Jinx: …Frog sticker
Isha: White feather
Mara: Gold flame
> “If you see someone use their symbol, or if it’s pinned near the bar, you respond. Got it?”
Jayce raised a hand.
> “What if it’s a prank?”
Mara narrowed her eyes.
> “If you prank the code board, the board pranks you back.”
Jinx immediately pinned three frogs to it.
Later, her entire bunk mysteriously collapsed.
No one confessed.
Jinx was impressed.
---
First Use of the Code
Two nights later, a guest cornered Isha and asked why she was so quiet.
She didn’t respond.
Just walked up to the bar and pinned her white feather on the board.
Mara saw it.
Terra saw it.
Curl saw it from the rafters and narrowed her eyes.
Jayce didn’t.
He got assigned cleanup for the next week.
---
Viktor’s Denial
> “I don’t need a code.”
> “Everyone needs a code.”
> “I’m emotionally stable.”
Terra snorted.
Jayce nearly fell off his stool.
Mara handed him the blue hex anyway.
He didn’t pin it.
But he kept it in his coat pocket.
---
Board Update:
System Upgrade: Code Signals Activated
Emergency Use: Authorized
Unauthorized Use: Forbidden and Cursed
Jinx: Still banned from inventing code-related gadgets
Viktor: Has one. Will deny it
Terra: Never used hers. No one ever pushes her that far. Yet.
Chapter 6: The Arrival of Isha
Summary:
No one knows where she came from. She didn’t speak, but she stared. And somehow, that was enough.
Notes:
Word count: ~1500
Chapter Text
It was just after the lunch rush when she arrived.
No fanfare. No luggage. No dramatic wind blowing through the doors.
Just the soft creak of hinges and the quiet patter of footsteps that shouldn’t have been so silent.
Jayce was elbow-deep in repairing a broken barstool.
Jinx was hanging upside-down from a ceiling beam.
Mara was behind the bar updating the latest disaster stats.
Viktor and Terra were—blessedly—not present.
The girl stepped inside and just... stopped.
She looked around slowly. No expression. No flinching.
Just big eyes, wind-worn clothes, and a presence that made people pause without knowing why.
---
No Words
Jayce straightened up, wiped his hands, and approached with a polite smile.
> “Hey there. You lost?”
She said nothing.
He tried again.
> “Hungry? We’ve got soup.”
Still nothing.
She tilted her head slightly.
He blinked.
> “Okay. Soup it is.”
---
Adoption, Apparently
She didn’t speak during lunch.
Didn’t smile.
Didn’t even make a sound when Jinx sat across from her and started talking about the merits of weaponized cutlery.
But she watched.
Every movement. Every exchange. Every twitch of body language.
By the time Terra came downstairs, the girl was already sitting by the hearth.
When Viktor walked in, she was drawing something with a piece of charcoal on a napkin.
Mara looked up from behind the bar and said,
> “She’s staying.”
Jayce blinked.
> “Did she say that?”
> “No. But she’s staying.”
And she did.
---
The Upstairs Room
They gave her a small room with a view of the garden and a blanket too big for her. She curled into it like it had always been hers.
No questions asked.
No explanation offered.
It wasn’t needed.
The next morning, the room had been subtly rearranged. The bed was pressed into the corner. The window had a chair beneath it. The blanket was carefully folded when she wasn’t in it.
Viktor passed by once and murmured,
> “Efficient. I approve.”
---
Communication Style: Eyebrows and Eyeballs
She didn’t speak, but her expressions said plenty.
Raised brow: Mild disapproval
Flat stare: Utter disbelief
Slow blink: Approval
Tilted head: Why are you like this?
Small smirk: Usually when someone else suffers
Perfectly blank expression: Deadliest of all
Jinx quickly learned not to underestimate her.
Jayce immediately tried to adopt her.
Viktor pretended not to notice her shadowing his footsteps for hours at a time.
Terra? Terra simply nodded once when Isha walked into her workspace and sat quietly in the corner.
It was enough.
---
The Day She Helped
It wasn’t even a big thing.
A guest dropped a tray.
No one moved fast enough to help.
Except her.
Isha caught the edge, reset the glasses, and handed the tray back with perfect control—all in one motion.
Still didn’t speak.
The guest blinked and said, “Thanks…”
Isha blinked back once.
Walked away.
Mara stared at her for a long moment, then turned to the board behind the bar.
> “Isha gets a code.”
---
Betting Board Update:
New Arrival: Isha
Communication: Eye contact, death stares, occasional napkin sketches
Emotional Damage Potential: High
Quote of the Week: None. Literally
Jinx’s Comment: “She’s like if a librarian and a wolf had a baby.”
Viktor’s Comment: “She is unnervingly observant. I respect that.”
Chapter 7: The Karen Protocol
Summary:
Jayce is cornered. Viktor is a wounded husband. Terra is a betrayed forest queen. The Karen is spiritually slapped into next week.
Notes:
~1800 words
Chapter Text
Jayce was minding his business.
Which was rare.
He was fixing a loose hinge on the entryway door, one knee on the floor, humming to himself with a pencil behind his ear. The sun was out. The breeze was nice. The hinge was cooperating.
So naturally, the universe decided to punish him for being happy.
> “Excuse me.”
The voice hit him like a perfume-scented brick.
He looked up.
He should not have looked up.
---
She wore a neon pink blazer that seemed to shriek with every step, paired with heels that could aerate soil. Sunglasses too large for her face, earrings the size of teacups, and a smile that was all teeth and no soul.
> “Do you work here?” she asked, already annoyed.
> “Uh—yep,” Jayce said, standing up.
> “I’ve been standing here for five minutes,” she said (she had not), “and not a single person has offered me service. I need a room, fresh towels, a list of wines, and—” she leaned in, “—your name.”
Jayce blinked.
> “Just so you know, only one of those things is complimentary.”
> “Oh, don’t be modest,” she purred. “Someone as broad-shouldered and handy as you—clearly something around here comes with a little extra… service.”
---
The Code is Activated
Jayce internally screamed.
Externally, he smiled politely and reached into his pouch.
He pulled out a smooth red lightning bolt token and set it gently on the windowsill behind him.
Behind the bar, Mara saw it.
> [CODE RED: Jayce – Cornered by a Karen.]
She flipped the emergency pin.
Upstairs, a soft magical ping went off.
Viktor stirred in his chair.
Terra looked up from repotting a carnivorous herb.
They both stood at the same time.
---
The Intervention
Karen leaned even closer, eyes scanning Jayce like a slab of meat with tool skills.
> “You know,” she whispered, “I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be manhandled by someone who knows their way around a wrench.”
Viktor appeared in the doorway behind her like a cursed painting.
> “Excuse me?”
She turned.
And stared.
He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. His coat hung off one shoulder. His cane clicked loudly as he walked forward with all the menace of a hextech banshee.
> “What did you just say to my husband?”
---
Jayce opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Then decided to just let it happen.
Karen blinked.
> “H-Husband?”
> “Yes. Husband.” Viktor narrowed his eyes. “Is that difficult to understand, or is it just the heels cutting off circulation to your brain?”
Jayce whispered, “Oh my god.”
And then—Terra.
She stormed in from the garden, dirt on her gloves, murder in her eyes.
> “What is happening?!”
> “He’s cheating on us,” Viktor said bitterly, turning away like a wounded prince.
> “With a Karen?!” Terra clutched her chest in horror. “After everything we’ve been through?!”
> “I knew he still had feelings for brunch wine and entitlement.”
> “Don’t say that!” Terra gasped. “Don’t you dare.”
> “I saw her TOUCH HIS ARM, TERRA.”
Karen backed up.
> “Wait—I—this was just—he flirted with me first—!”
Jayce: “I breathed.”
---
The Spiral
Viktor dramatically placed his cane against the wall and leaned on the doorframe.
> “You want him? Fine. Take him. But know this: he snores. Loudly. He alphabetizes his socks. He cries during dog food commercials.”
> “And,” Terra added, “he says he can cook, but it’s just eggs and trauma!”
> “Okay wow,” Jayce muttered.
> “You’ve opened a wound today, woman,” Viktor said. “A wound we may never recover from.”
Karen turned and ran.
She tripped over a potted plant, shrieked something about lawsuits, and vanished down the hill with her blazer flapping like a wounded peacock.
---
Aftermath
Jayce collapsed against the wall.
> “What the hell was that?”
> “Protection,” Viktor said, already straightening his collar.
Terra smirked and tossed her gloves onto the windowsill.
> “That’s what you get for being flirty-adjacent.”
> “I WAS FIXING A DOOR.”
> “It’s the aura,” Mara called from the bar. “You radiate ‘please bother me.’”
Jayce sighed.
> “I hate it here.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: The Karen Protocol
Code Used: Red Lightning Bolt
Viktor: Scorned husband energy, 11/10
Terra: Betrayed spouse rage, 13/10
Jayce: Emotionally broken, confused, allegedly a cheater
Mara’s Note: “Any future Karen interactions are to be handled by Team Divorce Court.”
Jinx’s Comment: “I want to play Terra next time.”
Chapter 8: Mistress Curl appears
Summary:
She was not adopted. She simply arrived. The hearth is hers now. Viktor is her throne. Jayce is her scratching post.
Notes:
~1700 words
Chapter Text
The first sign was the hair.
A single, jet-black cat hair on Viktor’s coat.
He plucked it off absentmindedly, not thinking much of it—until he found a second. Then a third. Then one curled around the rim of his teacup in the lab.
He did not own a cat.
No one at the inn owned a cat.
---
The Sighting
Terra was the first to see her.
Or rather—feel her.
A weightless shift in the air, like someone watching her with the patience of a god and the judgment of a bitter librarian.
She looked up from the garden path to the second floor balcony.
There, on the railing, sat a perfectly black cat. Small. Fluffy. Eyes like polished amber and a tail that flicked once in deliberate disapproval.
Terra blinked.
The cat blinked back.
Then vanished.
---
The Official Entrance
The next evening, the hearth was lit. The chairs were arranged. Viktor had finally—finally—settled into a soft one with a cup of tea and a sigh that could power a city.
And then, without warning, a blur of shadow leapt silently onto the arm of his chair.
And settled in his lap.
Viktor froze.
The cat loafed.
Terra and Mara looked up.
Jayce, passing through with snacks, stopped mid-step.
> “...Do we know her?”
The cat lifted her head.
Stared directly into his soul.
Jayce flinched.
> “Never mind.”
---
Judgment
She inspected each member of the inn over the next two days.
Not socially. Not curiously.
Judiciously.
She sat on Terra’s workbench.
Sniffed one of Isha’s boots.
Nudged a frog-shaped tool Jinx was using, sending it into the wall.
Walked across a blueprint Viktor was inking.
Clawed the armrest where Jayce had just sat.
She never meowed.
She stared.
And then, when it was done—she returned to the hearth, curled up in Viktor’s lap again, and closed her eyes.
---
The Naming
Mara was the first to speak the name.
> “She’s clearly in charge. Mistress Curl it is.”
Terra nodded once.
Viktor muttered,
> “This is my life now.”
Jinx tried to call her “Snugglebutt.”
She was scratched.
Only once.
Jinx accepted the consequences.
---
The Poster
After two days of increasing dominance—stealing warm chairs, repurposing laundry baskets as thrones, and deciding Viktor’s blue coat was hers now—the staff had no choice.
Terra drew it.
Mara laminated it.
Jayce posted it in five locations.
---
WELCOME TO THE CURL ZONE
Rules of Engagement:
1. Do not move Curl.
2. If Curl is on you, you are not allowed to move.
3. If Curl chooses you, you must accept your fate.
4. If Curl rejects you, try again in a hundred years.
5. All seating arrangements are subject to Curl’s will.
6. Curl is the law.
—The Management
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Arrival of Mistress Curl
Claimed: Hearth chair, Viktor’s lap, Jayce’s self-esteem
Touch Tolerance: Low
Purring Power: Weaponized
Viktor’s Quote: “She weighs six pounds and I live in fear.”
Terra’s Reaction: Respectful nod
Jinx’s Reaction: “She’s soft but deadly. Like a frog grenade.”
Isha’s Reaction: Draws her loaf pose in charcoal. Pins it to the board.
Chapter 9: You may not move (Curl has spoken)
Summary:
Viktor makes the mistake of trying to take care of himself. Curl says “no.”
Notes:
~1300 words
Chapter Text
The inn was quiet.
The late hour had drained all the noise, leaving only the faint pop of embers in the hearth and the soft creak of settling floorboards.
Viktor, for once, had listened to reason and gone to bed early.
Well. Early for Viktor. It was only two hours past midnight.
He’d barely managed to change shirts before collapsing onto his bed in a graceless sprawl, his leg brace still attached.
---
Mistake #1: Sleeping in the Brace
The thing wasn’t uncomfortable on its own—it was designed for all-day wear. But sleeping in it?
That was like trying to nap with a shovel strapped to your shin.
By the time the moon reached its peak, Viktor was stirring.
His leg twitched.
The brace resisted.
A dull ache spread through his thigh and knee.
He groaned softly, rolled onto his side, and reached down with a sigh to undo the first latch—
---
Mistake #2: Moving
There was a sound.
Not a loud one.
A whisper. A flutter. The soft landing of six pounds of authority.
He froze.
---
Mistress Curl had entered the room.
And she was already mid-leap.
Viktor blinked once as a shadow sailed across his bed and landed squarely on his ribs.
She loafed immediately.
Tail curled. Paws tucked.
Eyes already closed.
She was asleep.
Instantly.
---
> “No, no, no…” he whispered.
He tried to shift his arm under the blanket.
She growled.
Lightly.
Not a hiss. Not a threat.
Just a quiet, annoyed hrrmff that said, “I’m aware of your sins.”
---
Viktor lay flat on his back, eyes wide open.
The brace still dug into his knee.
His ribs were now occupied.
The blanket was not reaching his shoulder correctly.
And the cat was purring.
Loudly.
Like this was her bed.
---
Mistake #3: Attempting to Escape
He tried to shift again, just a little.
Curl opened one eye.
Her tail thwapped his arm.
Once.
He stopped moving.
---
Eventually, he sighed.
> “I was going to take it off.”
Curl blinked.
> “You are a tyrant.”
Purr intensifies.
---
Morning Comes
Jayce peeked in at dawn and immediately slapped a note onto the door.
---
DO NOT DISTURB — VIKTOR IS BEING HELD HOSTAGE
by
Mistress Curl
(again)
---
Mara marked the board.
Terra left a cup of tea on the windowsill.
Jinx quietly sketched a wanted poster for “The Purranator.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Curl Enforces Bedrest
Hostage: Viktor (willing, eventually)
Brace Status: Still on
Sleep Quality: Moderate, enhanced by purring
Curl’s Judgment: Absolute
Viktor’s Quote: “I can’t feel my ribs but she’s warm.”
Chapter 10: The Interview Day
Summary:
Jayce is single. The inn has opinions about that. Viktor and Terra take turns destroying the hopefuls. Mel arrives last. She is inevitable.
Notes:
~2000 words
Chapter Text
It started with a joke.
Jayce was venting over breakfast.
> “I’m great with a hammer and terrible with feelings. Is that really such a turnoff?”
Terra, sipping tea:
> “Yes.”
Viktor, not looking up from his blueprint:
> “Undeniably.”
Mara, clearing a table nearby:
> “You know what we need? An interview process. Like speed dating but with collateral damage.”
Jinx, from the ceiling:
> “I’LL MAKE THE FLYERS.”
---
The Rules (Created by Chaos)
By noon, the event was posted in five locations.
By evening, they had applicants.
> “Date Our Disaster!”
Come meet Jayce. He’s tall, strong, emotionally clueless, and makes great pancakes.
Bring a resume. Bring a snack. We’ll handle the sabotage.
—The Inn Management
Jayce protested exactly once.
Then Viktor handed him a rose crown and told him to “smile like a prince about to be devoured.”
---
Round One: The Whispery Poet
She spoke only in haikus.
Had a pet dove named Whisper.
Kept trying to “read his aura.”
Jayce tried to be polite.
Terra lit sage and told her Jayce was born under a cursed moon and his aura eats birds.
She left.
---
Round Two: The Gym Lord
Flexed at the door.
Tried to arm wrestle Mara. Lost.
Called Viktor “Vicky.”
Viktor took offense in five languages.
Jayce spent the next five minutes apologizing while Terra casually dismantled the man’s weightlifting belt mid-sit.
Exit: tearful.
---
Round Three: The Enchanted Baker
Too perfect.
Sweet. Kind. Brought free pastries.
Jinx grew suspicious.
Discovered the woman’s cookies were enchanted with mild euphoria charms.
> “You don’t like him. You roofied him with a croissant.”
Chaos ensued.
Jinx stole three for research.
---
Round Four: The Therapist
Listened. Asked deep questions.
Too deep.
> “Do you think your drive to protect others comes from unresolved paternal trauma?”
Jayce: visibly malfunctions
Viktor: “...I like her.”
Terra: “Same.”
Jayce: sinks under table
---
Round Five: The Disaster Bard
Showed up with a lute.
Tried to seduce the whole room.
Jayce was into it for five minutes until the bard hit on Viktor and Terra simultaneously and winked at Curl.
Curl slapped him.
It echoed.
---
Round Six: The One with the Frog Hat
...It may have just been Jinx in disguise.
Jayce didn’t question it.
Mara removed her manually.
---
Then—She Arrived
Evening light spilled through the inn’s front door as a new figure stepped in.
Tall. Regal. Confident.
A familiar sharpness to her eyes.
Clad in traveling black and gold with just a hint of smug amusement in her smirk.
> “Sorry I’m late,” she said smoothly. “Am I too late to apply?”
Jayce blinked.
> “...Mel?!”
---
Mel, Unbothered
She walked in like she owned the place.
> “I saw the flyer.”
Terra narrowed her eyes.
> “That flyer was not meant for you.”
> “And yet it found me.”
Viktor: “We are not responsible for what happens if you hurt him.”
Mel: “I’d never.”
Jayce: “WHAT IS HAPPENING.”
---
The Interview
Mel sat across from Jayce like this was any normal conversation.
She didn’t fidget.
Didn’t flirt—at first.
She just talked.
Calm. Curious. Casual.
Jayce leaned in.
For once… he listened.
---
> “Why now?” he asked quietly.
> “Because for the first time in years,” Mel said, “I can sit across from you without expecting an explosion. And because I like you. Even when you’re being an idiot.”
Jayce: visibly stunned
Viktor and Terra: visibly suspicious
Mel: smiles
---
> “So,” she added, eyes glinting, “how about you and I get dinner.
Somewhere that doesn’t serve weaponized cookies.”
Jayce:
> “...Yes. Yes. Please. Yes.”
Mara updated the board mid-cheer.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Interview Day
Viktor: 6 sabotages
Terra: 5 sabotages
Jinx: Disqualified (probable sabotage of her own disguise)
Jayce: Emotionally overwhelmed, also crowned with lettuce by Jinx
Mel: Showed up late. Left with a date. Unshaken. Unfazed. Unbothered.
Curl: Scratched the bard. A legend.
Chapter 11: The Date (with Surprise Parents)
Summary:
Viktor did the research. Terra made it weird. Jayce is going to need therapy. Mel is having the time of her life.
Notes:
~2100 words
Chapter Text
Jayce had never been this nervous about a date.
He had faced down arcane disasters, science gone wrong, multiple near-deaths, and a raccoon Jinx once modified with hover boots. But dinner with Mel—actual dinner, just the two of them—was enough to make him sweat through his good shirt.
She looked flawless.
He looked like he was trying very, very hard not to mess it up.
> “Relax,” Mel said, smiling as they sat down at the quaint corner restaurant just outside the inn. “This isn’t a trap.”
> “You say that,” Jayce muttered, glancing over his shoulder.
> “What, expecting Terra to pop out of the soup?”
> “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
---
Ten Minutes Later
> “Why are there two shadows behind you?” Mel asked, sipping her wine.
Jayce blinked.
> “...No.”
He turned around.
There they were.
Viktor. In a dark coat with reading glasses perched low on his nose, holding a cane with the air of a stern intellectual.
And Terra. In a knit cardigan she absolutely didn’t own yesterday, holding a framed photo of Curl.
They approached the table like this was parent-teacher conference night.
---
> “Jason!” Terra beamed.
Jayce blinked.
> “My name is Jayce.”
> “That’s what you always said,” Viktor replied with a sigh. “Teenagers.”
Mel nearly choked on her drink.
> “Who—?”
> “I’m his mother,” Terra said smoothly. “And this is his other mother. From a different timeline.”
> “I’m his father,” Viktor corrected dryly. “We’re progressive.”
> “And disappointed,” Terra added.
---
The Stories Begin
Jayce tried to stand.
Terra put a gentle, terrifying hand on his shoulder.
> “Do you remember the time he got his tongue stuck to a hex-spanner?”
> “I was nine—!”
> “He tried to kiss it,” Viktor added helpfully. “Said it was ‘the prettiest machine he’d ever seen.’”
Mel leaned forward, fully invested.
> “What about the time he cried over that one episode of Starlight Guardian Frogs?”
Jayce turned beet red.
> “You made that up.”
> “Did I?” Terra opened a photo album that definitely hadn’t been there five seconds ago. “Explain this then.”
Jayce screamed internally.
---
The Real Stories Begin
Then Viktor got quiet.
Smiled faintly.
> “You know,” he said, “when he was twelve, he rebuilt his entire school’s science fair display from scraps. Wouldn’t even take credit. Just wanted the other kids to win.”
Jayce blinked.
> “How did you know that?”
Viktor sipped his tea.
> “I may have called your mother.”
Jayce audibly gasped.
> “You called my mother?!”
> “Yes. She is delightful. And deeply unfiltered.”
> “I’m going to combust.”
---
Mel Is Thriving
Mel leaned her chin into her hand, eyes glinting with amusement.
> “You know, I always wondered what meeting your family would be like.”
> “These aren’t my family.”
> “We’ve known you longer than she has,” Terra said.
> “We share trauma,” Viktor added.
> “We own your emotional damage.”
> “And your laundry.”
> “And your dignity,” Terra finished.
Jayce covered his face.
---
The Final Blow
Terra pulled out a hand-drawn certificate.
> “Congratulations,” she said, handing it to Mel. “You’ve passed the interview. You may now date our son.”
> “You forged a certificate?”
> “I hand-inked it.”
> “It has a frog seal,” Viktor noted.
Mel laughed so hard she snorted.
Jayce slumped in his chair, spiritually defeated.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Jayce’s First Date
Viktor: Called his mom, brought receipts
Terra: Made up most of the rest
Mel: Glowing. Triumphant. Still holding the certificate.
Jayce: Emotionally deceased
Quote of the Night:
> “We’re progressive. And disappointed.”
Jinx’s Review: “I rate this five talking socks out of four.”
Chapter 12: The Midnight Runway
Summary:
Isha returns. Mistress Curl struts. Jayce provides unhelpful commentary. Viktor takes notes. Terra pretends not to care and absolutely cares.
Notes:
~1600 words
Chapter Text
The inn had long since closed for the night.
Chairs were stacked, the hearth dimmed to a warm glow, and the kitchen was quiet except for the slow cooling of the ovens.
But behind the bar, something stirred.
A whisper.
A flick of fabric.
The faint click of claws on wood.
---
Isha Returns to the Spotlight
She emerged from the hallway like a specter of precision, her arms full of carefully folded cloth. Her expression, as always, was unreadable—but her eyes gleamed with purpose.
She wore a pair of custom-fitted fingerless gloves with tiny stitched vines curling around the wrists—her own design.
Trailing behind her, like royalty late for a gala, was Mistress Curl.
Tonight, Curl wore a deep violet capelet, embroidered with gold thread and tiny silver buttons down the back.
She did not walk.
She glided.
---
The Runway
The bar counter had been cleared.
Cushioned with folded linens.
Lined with tea candles in safe little jars.
Viktor had absolutely not helped.
The evidence of his help was pure coincidence.
The fabric-measuring quill on the bar was for science, obviously.
Isha tapped a small chime.
Curl sat.
Waited.
Then, at some invisible signal—
She walked.
---
The Reviews
Jayce, seated nearby with a drink:
> “That cat has more runway presence than I’ve ever had.”
Viktor:
> “That is a generous understatement.”
Terra, arms crossed in the doorway:
> “She’s not even trying.”
Jinx: appears from nowhere, holding up a sign that reads “9.7”
---
The Wardrobe Changes
One by one, Isha presented more designs:
A sleek black coat with adjustable straps and silver thread accents
A pale blue poncho with leaf patterns that shimmered in certain light
A utility vest with tiny enchanted pockets (one of which Curl refused to return)
Each time, Curl allowed Isha to dress her.
Each time, she walked the bar like a queen returning from exile.
She even did a spin once.
Jayce clapped.
Viktor quietly noted the stitching structure.
Terra turned away but smiled to herself.
---
The Last Look
The final piece was a soft crimson shawl, patterned with gold leaf veins. Elegant. Regal. A little dramatic.
Curl sat at the end of the bar, turned around, and looked directly into Isha’s eyes.
Then she loafed.
Approval.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: The Midnight Runway
Isha: Silent. Perfect. Unchallenged.
Curl: Walked like the floor owed her money
Jayce: Sobbing internally from the elegance
Viktor: Taking notes he swears are not about cat fashion
Terra: "Not impressed" (is absolutely impressed)
Jinx: Has already started working on cat goggles
Chapter 13: Curl Therapy and Mel's jealousy act
Summary:
Jayce misses his girlfriend. Curl decides he may not move. Mel returns. Jayce panics.
Notes:
~16000
Chapter Text
Mel had been gone for three days.
It wasn’t even far—just a short trip to handle a diplomatic issue in Piltover.
She promised to be back by the weekend.
She left him a note.
And a snack.
Still, Jayce?
A mess.
---
The Sulking Begins
He did not say he missed her.
Instead, he made a show of sighing dramatically in doorways.
Staring into his soup like it betrayed him.
Fixing things that didn’t need fixing.
Viktor: “You’ve adjusted that hinge five times. Please let it die with dignity.”
Jayce: “She could’ve taken me with her.”
Terra: “You cried over toast this morning.”
Jayce: “IT WAS CRUNCHY IN A WAY THAT MADE ME REFLECT ON LOSS.”
---
Enter: Curl
Terra had had enough.
She snapped her fingers twice in the common room.
Curl emerged from the shadows like she’d been summoned from another plane.
Jayce was mid-sulk on the couch.
Curl leapt onto his lap and loafed directly on his thigh.
Purred.
Jayce looked down.
> “No. Not like this.”
Curl blinked.
> “I have to—”
Thwap. Tail to the chest.
> “Okay. I guess I live here now.”
---
The Trap is Sprung
Jayce remained pinned for two full hours.
Every time he shifted, Curl flicked her tail or pressed harder.
At one point he sneezed.
She licked his hand.
He stopped resisting.
> “You win, okay? I’m not allowed to be sad unless you approve it?”
Curl purred louder.
---
The Return of Mel
The front door creaked open.
Mel stepped in, brushing dust from her coat.
> “I’m home.”
Jayce perked up.
Then froze.
Curl was still in his lap.
Loafed. Proud. Purring.
Mel arched a brow.
> “Well. I see I’ve been replaced.”
Jayce panicked.
> “NO—she—this isn’t—she attacked me!”
> “So she’s a homewrecker,” Mel said, walking slowly toward the couch.
Jayce turned red.
> “I didn’t cheat! I was cat-held!”
> “Is this how you treat all your girlfriends, Jayce?” she said, deadpan. “Replace them with judgmental loafs the second they leave town?”
> “She’s not even affectionate! She just vibrates with disapproval!”
> “Like me.”
Curl thwapped him with her tail again.
---
Mel leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, and whispered,
> “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Jayce covered his face and groaned.
Curl looked smug.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Curl Emotional Containment Protocol
Jayce: Trapped, sulking, deeply flustered
Curl: Claimed the thigh
Mel: Pretended to be jealous, actually amused
Terra: Extremely proud of herself
Viktor: Watching from the staircase like a man observing a soap opera
Jinx: Knitting cat-sized breakup hats, just in case
Chapter 14: Viktor and the Cold of Doom
Summary:
Blanket fort. Blanket cape. Blanket ghost. Viktor declares war on soup. Children cry. Curl is the final boss.
Notes:
~2300 words
Chapter Text
It began, as all tragedies do, with a single sneeze.
> “It’s just a chill,” Viktor muttered.
Jayce, from across the room:
> “You sneezed three times and then told your teacup it had betrayed you.”
> “It did nothing to stop the draft.”
---
Layering Begins
By morning, Viktor had assembled:
3 scarves (each from a different drawer)
1 shawl (Terra’s, borrowed without permission)
1 robe (Jayce’s, definitely not asked for)
2 blankets (one of which trailed like a cape)
1 teacup
1 cane, used only for dramatic pauses
He looked like a wizard who’d lost a duel to laundry.
Guests in the common room fell silent as he passed through, muttering darkly to himself about the betrayal of the immune system.
---
The Drama Escalates
Jayce:
> “You should lie down.”
> “I will not perish horizontal. Not like the others.”
Terra:
> “You mean people who rested and got better?”
> “The weak.”
---
Quote Highlights from the Day:
“Tell Curl she may have my schematics.”
“If I die, burn my tea—not for ceremony, but out of spite.”
“Soup is a liquid lie.”
“My sin was ambition. My punishment is phlegm.”
“If I cough again, I want a plaque.”
---
The Blanket Fort
He built it on the community couch.
Quietly. Systematically. With terrifying focus.
Pillows, stacked like walls. Blankets, draped like a monarchy in exile.
An empty mug served as a ceremonial torch.
A small sign hung outside:
“DO NOT ENTER. CONTAINMENT ZONE. GHOSTS POSSIBLE.”
Viktor entered, cape flowing, and loafed into the heart of the cushions.
Curl entered shortly after, without permission, and claimed the deepest corner.
---
The Collapse
Children peeked through a hole in the blankets, giggling.
Then—thwap!
Curl’s paw lashed out like a trap sprung from darkness.
There was screaming.
There were tears.
One child shouted,
> “THE FORT IS HAUNTED!”
Then the weight shifted.
The fort collapsed in a heap of cotton and muffled despair.
From inside came a low groan:
> “I will haunt these blankets.”
---
Mel Arrives (Unfortunately)
She walked in just in time to see Jayce trying to fish Viktor out of the rubble with a broom handle.
> “...Do I want to know?”
Jayce didn’t look up.
> “He called the fever a ‘betrayal pact with the wind.’”
Mel nodded.
> “So. Business as usual.”
---
Post-Fort Statements from the Wreckage:
“Tell Terra she may never wash these sheets. They are now a shrine.”
“This is how scientists fall—under duvets.”
“I no longer need the physical plane. Just tea and vengeance.”
“Bury me with my slippers.”
“Do not let Jinx repurpose my fort for experiments.”
She already had.
---
Curl’s Reign Continues
After the collapse, Curl sat atop the largest cushion like it was a throne made of failure.
She did not blink.
Only purred.
Viktor reached up from the blanket ruins and said hoarsely,
> “She’s won. Let her rule.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Viktor’s Blanket Apocalypse
Fort Dimensions: Approximately one couch wide, three blankets high
Collapse Time: 47 minutes
Curl: Undisputed fort queen, defender of the loaf
Children Traumatized: 2
Viktor’s Final Statement:
> “Let the linens know I fought bravely.”
Terra: Added him to the “No Forts Without Supervision” list
Jinx: Salvaged 30% of materials for her project “Furni-treat: edible cushions”
Chapter 15: The Carving and the Curse
Summary:
They defiled her favorite tree. Now they will know fear. She never speaks. She never blinks. The inn will never forget.
Notes:
~1800 words
Chapter Text
The willow stood at the edge of the garden, old and wide, its roots like twisted veins in the earth. Its branches dipped low and long, brushing the ground like curtains of green silk.
It had always been there.
Before the inn.
Before the town.
Before people started calling the garden “pretty” instead of “sacred.”
Terra never said so aloud, but it was hers.
She sat beneath it to think.
To rest.
To breathe.
She’d mended its bark with magic, brushed off aphids by hand, and once threatened a squirrel with banishment for biting it.
So when she saw the initials carved into the base of its trunk—deep, sloppy, fresh—she did not scream.
She didn’t make a sound.
She just stood there.
And the wind died.
---
The Teenagers
Three of them.
Rowdy. Loud. “Just passing through.”
They’d joked about ghosts.
Mocked the guest log book.
One tried to flirt with Isha.
Isha just stared until he forgot what vowels were.
That should’ve been a warning.
It wasn’t.
---
Day One
They returned from their garden escapade laughing.
That night, as they walked past the hearth, they saw her.
Terra.
Standing in the far corner.
Back to them.
Perfectly still.
They blinked.
She hadn’t been there a second ago.
They turned away, unsettled.
When they looked again—she was gone.
---
Day Two
One of them knocked a vase over in the hallway.
It didn’t break.
But when he turned around, she was there.
Standing in the guest laundry room.
In the dark.
Face unreadable.
Hands folded.
She didn’t speak.
He backed out slowly.
Didn’t sleep that night.
---
Day Three
Whispers began.
Jinx claimed she saw Terra crawl across the ceiling.
Jayce found a note in the betting board drawer that simply read:
> “They carved the tree.”
Viktor muttered,
> “Fools. She loved that tree more than most people.”
Mara placed a sympathy tea order preemptively.
---
The Haunting Escalates
One teen opened a cupboard—Terra was standing in it.
Another turned over in bed—Terra was sitting in the chair across the room, motionless.
They entered the common room. The lights flickered. She was standing in the fireplace.
No one knew how she got there.
She never said a word.
---
The Breaking Point
They tried to leave early.
Luggage in hand.
Voices shaky.
Excuses mumbled.
As they passed the bar, Terra appeared behind the counter.
Still.
Silent.
Hands resting on the wooden top.
She tilted her head slightly.
Slowly.
The one who carved the deepest flinched.
The front door creaked open.
The willow branches swayed.
Though there was no wind.
They ran.
---
Aftermath
Later that night, Isha was spotted gently tending to the tree, placing runes near the scarred bark.
Terra stood behind her.
This time, smiling softly.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Tree Desecration Haunting
Haunting Style: Blair Witch x Garden Guardian
Words Spoken: 0
Apologies Received: Screamed while running
Isha: Restored the bark with chalk runes and quiet vengeance
Curl: Sat in the tree the entire time, watching
Jinx: Made “Haunted by Terra” badges and is selling them in the gift shop
Chapter 16: The Second Date (and Unwelcomed Assistance)
Summary:
Jayce just wants a quiet night with Mel. The inn wants chaos. Terra and Viktor have other plans. Curl supervises. Jinx intervenes.
Notes:
~1800 words
Chapter Text
It was supposed to be simple.
Jayce made the reservation himself.
A cozy little booth at the inn’s dining corner.
Candles. Food. Mel. Peace.
No drama.
No chaos.
No Viktor dragging Mel into a metaphysical conversation about weaponized trust.
No Terra throwing shade like it was a horticultural defense tactic.
Just dinner.
He even ironed a shirt.
---
It Begins with Promise
Mel looked radiant, of course.
Jayce complimented her without stuttering, which he considered a win.
She smiled. Laughed. Leaned in.
The food was served.
There was eye contact.
He didn’t spill anything.
Yet.
---
Then the Interference Starts
First: the violinist.
Jayce hadn’t hired a violinist.
But suddenly, from behind the counter, Jinx emerged with a cardboard violin, making screechy string noises and shouting,
> “ROMANCE. ROMANCE. AWKWARD EYE CONTACT.”
Terra appeared moments later and calmly escorted her out.
Jayce sighed in relief.
Until Viktor arrived.
---
Viktor’s Surprise Contribution
> “I have prepared a brief presentation,” he said, setting down a scroll.
> “No,” Jayce whispered.
> “I call it ‘A Timeline of Jayce’s Most Embarrassing Moments,’ subtitled ‘You Deserve to Know What You’re Getting Into.’”
Mel clapped.
Jayce died inside.
---
The Timeline Highlights:
Age 9: Thought he could “reprogram” a toaster. Burned his eyebrows off.
Age 13: Tried to flirt by quoting a physics textbook.
Age 17: Joined a duel to impress someone. Lost. Cried.
Age 22: Claimed he didn’t cry. Was lying.
Age 25: Still quotes physics textbooks.
Mel was charmed.
Jayce considered faking a faint.
---
Terra’s Contribution
She brought a dessert tray.
Nothing unusual.
Until Mel noticed every item on the tray was labeled:
“CRÈME BRÛLÉE (SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE JAYCE’S FIRST CRUSH)”
“TART OF POOR DECISIONS”
“COOKIES OF UNRESOLVED ISSUES”
“CAKE OF SELF-DOUBT (PAIRS WELL WITH MEL’S STARE)”
Jayce groaned.
Terra winked and walked away.
---
The Final Straw
Curl.
Jumped up onto the table.
Sat between them.
Turned.
And farted.
Loudly.
Mel blinked.
Jayce stopped breathing.
Curl looked smug.
---
Somehow, It Works
Mel leaned forward, smiling.
> “You know what I like about this place?”
Jayce stared at her, dead-eyed.
> “It’s completely unhinged?”
> “Exactly. Makes you look almost normal.”
Jayce blinked.
> “...Was that a compliment?”
> “Absolutely not.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Second Date Chaos
Sabotage Involved: Terra, Viktor, Jinx, Curl
Dessert Name Winner: “Cake of Self-Doubt”
Jayce: Crumbling
Mel: Thriving
Curl: Still on the table. Still judging.
Isha: Secretly rated this a 7/10. Too predictable. Would’ve used sparklers.
Chapter 17: Uno Reverse Day
Summary:
Jayce cooks. Viktor bartends. Terra hosts. Isha manages. Jinx—well, Jinx. The power dynamic has shifted and no one is safe.
Notes:
~2000 words
Chapter Text
It began, as many catastrophes do, with a Jinx suggestion.
> “Let’s all switch jobs for a day!”
> “Absolutely not,” Viktor said immediately.
> “I’ll make signs!” Jinx replied, already halfway out the door.
Terra didn’t object.
Mara sighed.
Jayce smiled too fast.
By the next morning, the signs were up.
The board read:
“UNO REVERSE DAY - ALL ROLES FLIPPED. MAY THE GODS HAVE MERCY.”
---
The Assignments
Isha: Manager
Jayce: Cook
Viktor: Bartender
Terra: Hostess
Mara: Guest
Jinx: Chaos Intern (self-appointed)
---
Clipboard Commander
Isha appeared in the dining room carrying a clipboard that was comically oversized.
It nearly dragged on the floor.
She wore tiny glasses perched on her nose and had a pencil tucked behind one ear.
Her silence was devastating.
Each time someone performed a task, she scribbled a note.
She did not explain the notes.
Jayce:
> “Am I doing okay?”
Isha:
> Scribble.
Jayce:
> “That felt like a ‘no.’”
---
Jayce the Cook
He was enthusiastic.
Optimistic.
Loud.
And very bad at seasoning.
> “Today’s special is… uh… hot bread with sauce!”
> “What kind of sauce?” Viktor asked.
> “Yes.”
Smoke filled the kitchen.
Curl had to be rescued from the oven area.
A guest cried.
Terra quietly handed out antacids with every meal.
---
Viktor the Bartender
Elegant. Deadpan. Ruthless.
> “What’s in the ‘Melancholy Sunrise’?”
> “Mostly despair. And orange juice.”
Guests were both intrigued and terrified.
He stirred drinks with scientific precision.
Did not smile once.
A tourist tried to flirt with him.
He responded with a twelve-minute lecture on water chemistry.
---
Terra the Hostess
At the door. Smiling. Too much.
> “Welcome,” she said sweetly. “I hope you enjoy your meal. Your aura is extremely fragile.”
She assigned seating based on vague forest energy readings.
Told one couple their table was “bad luck” and moved them mid-salad.
Complimented someone’s shoes and then whispered,
> “But they’ll be stolen if you stay past sundown.”
They paid and left early.
---
Mara the Guest
She sat at a corner table sipping a drink and silently judging everyone.
She left fake reviews on parchment slips.
> “Chef made me question my choices.”
“Bartender may be an actual ghost.”
“Hostess possibly cursed my chair.”
She rated her experience: 3.5 stars, would return for the chaos.
---
Jinx the Chaos Intern
Wore a vest with “INTERN” stitched in frogs.
Added sparklers to drinks.
Installed a “slide whistle” for announcing guests.
Painted eyes on all the loaves of bread.
No one stopped her.
Viktor claimed he was “too sick to intervene.”
He wasn’t.
---
Isha’s Final Evaluation
At the end of the night, the clipboard was posted behind the bar.
Isha’s Uno Reverse Report:
Jayce:
“Kitchen enthusiasm admirable. Fire suppression required.”
Viktor:
“Technically perfect. Spiritually haunted.”
Terra:
“Threatened three customers with fate. Effective.”
Mara:
“Very convincing guest. Would tip.”
Jinx:
“Fire hazard. Emotional support. No notes.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Uno Reverse Day
Emotional Damage: 6/10
Food Safety: Pending
Chaos Intern: Promoted to “Occasional Supervisor”
Jayce: Burned 3 things, cried once
Curl: Sat on Isha’s clipboard once. Was forgiven.
Terra: Said, “I should host more.” Everyone disagreed.
Chapter 18: The Blueprints of Beasts
Summary:
Viktor inhales something he shouldn’t. Creates a chaotic masterpiece. Jayce is proud. The others try to understand. Viktor becomes one with the blueprint. The blueprint becomes one with him.
Notes:
~2000 Words
Chapter Text
It was supposed to be an ordinary maintenance run.
Jinx had left a “non-explosive” scent-dispersing prototype in the back storage room.
Viktor, already tired and looking for a misrouted part shipment, wandered through the space, breathing the air like a fool.
The prototype activated.
The prototype should have smelled like lavender.
It did not.
---
Ten Minutes Later
Jayce found Viktor at the lab workbench.
He was surrounded by every scrap of parchment the inn owned.
His hair was wild.
His scarf was tied around his head like a war banner.
His hands were flying across the page.
Jayce:
> “Are you okay?”
Viktor:
> “Don’t interrupt the vision.”
---
The Masterpiece
The blueprint was… something.
Sprawled across three joined pages.
There were cogs. There were lines.
But also:
A squirrel labeled “primary weight-bearing unit”
A badger operating a gear lever
Three measurements marked in “curl lengths”
One labeled “2.5 anxious frogs”
An arrow pointing to a box that read, simply, “emotionally volatile zone”
Viktor stood up, cape dragging behind him (when did he get a cape?), and declared:
> “I have transcended form. This is my legacy.”
Then he collapsed.
Face first.
Into his bed.
---
Jayce’s Parental Moment
Jayce rolled the blueprint up gently.
Tied it with twine.
And marched it to the fridge.
He stuck it there with a magnet shaped like Curl.
> “I’m so proud of him.”
---
The Interpretations
Terra:
Stared at the blueprint for ten minutes.
Declared it “an accidental summoning circle.”
Left a salt ring around the base of the fridge.
Jinx:
Made a prototype based solely on the badger diagram.
It meowed when touched.
Isha:
Pinned a sticky note next to it that read:
> “Unclear. Possibly divine.”
Curl:
Sat directly on it for a full hour.
Clearly approving.
---
The Morning After
Viktor shuffled into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around him like a mourning shroud.
He made tea.
He turned.
And froze.
There, on the fridge, was his blueprint.
Not crumpled.
Not mocked.
Displayed.
He walked up to it.
Studied it.
Brows furrowed.
Eyes scanning.
Jayce, cautiously:
> “Do you… want me to take it down?”
Viktor didn’t answer.
He just stared at it.
Like it was speaking to him in frequencies no one else could hear.
After a full minute, he murmured:
> “...There’s something here.”
Jayce:
> “No, there’s really not.”
Viktor:
> “No, listen. The frog ratios align with the gear shift model from 2 years ago. This… this might actually work.”
Jayce, horrified:
> “Oh no.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Viktor’s Animal-Based Schematic
Origin: Secondhand Jinx prototype exposure
Animal Units of Measurement: 6
Actual Engineering Value: ???
Viktor’s Final Judgment: “There is genius in chaos.”
Terra: Asked if frogs will be harmed. Jayce said, “emotionally, probably.”
Curl: Claims authorship by loafing on it again
Chapter 19: The Accidental Invention
Summary:
Frogs, failure, and functionality. Viktor reverse-engineers his own nonsense and somehow builds the inn’s new favorite appliance.
Notes:
~1800
Chapter Text
It started as a joke.
Jayce had taped a sticky note beside the blueprint on the fridge:
> “IF YOU BUILD THIS, I’M MOVING OUT.”
Viktor read it.
Then looked at the squirrel diagram.
Then back at Jayce.
> “Challenge accepted.”
Jayce immediately regretted everything.
---
Phase 1: “Research”
Viktor collected every piece of scrap metal and wiring from the back closet.
He also found:
Two gears Terra was saving for a garden spinner
One overly aggressive whisk
A length of tubing labeled “NOT FOR SCIENCE (JINX)”
A perfectly intact plunger
A single, confused frog (returned to the garden)
Isha silently handed him a roll of tape and walked away.
---
Phase 2: “Refinement”
Viktor squinted at his original drawing.
> “Okay, obviously the badger is metaphorical.”
Jayce:
> “Was the frog metaphorical too?”
> “No. That one was emotional calibration.”
Terra walked by, paused, stared at the blueprints, and muttered,
> “I’m not helping you explain this to the health inspector.”
---
Phase 3: Construction Begins
It was loud.
It involved the whisk spinning at incredible speeds.
Jinx donated a frog-shaped activation switch.
Jayce provided noise-cancelling earmuffs.
For himself.
Curl observed from atop the fridge like a gremlin god.
Isha occasionally held things without being asked.
---
The First Activation
Viktor, holding his breath, flipped the switch.
A soft whir.
A small click.
A burst of light.
And then—nothing exploded.
Which was promising.
The machine spun quietly, adjusted its gears, and poured tea.
Perfectly.
---
Jayce blinked.
> “Is that… is that a self-calibrating, mood-sensitive tea dispenser?”
Viktor nodded slowly, staring at it like it had spoken to him in ancient Zaunite.
> “It adapts flavor, temperature, and brew strength based on aura readings and biometric cues.”
> “You invented an emotional support kettle.”
> “...Yes.”
---
They Named It
Mara dubbed it:
“The Steep Seer.”
Terra tried it once, muttered “acceptable,” and walked off sipping jasmine.
Jinx painted googly eyes on the front.
Curl swatted them off.
---
The Inn Reacts
The machine adjusted Jayce’s tea when he was flustered.
It gave Isha warm lemon balm when she looked tired.
It gave Curl lukewarm water with catnip mist.
When Jinx tried to prank it, it shut down for an hour out of self-preservation.
Everyone applauded.
---
The Blueprint Remains
Still on the fridge.
Still chaotic.
Still unreadable to anyone else.
But now, a small sticky note rests next to it in Viktor’s handwriting:
> “Sometimes, brilliance begins with frogs.”
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Viktor Builds the Frog Blueprint
Result: Fully functional, inn-approved tea unit
Practicality: 10/10
Method: 2/10
Curl: Claims victory by napping next to it
Jayce: Admits he was wrong. Refuses to say it out loud.
Jinx: Designing a duel machine called “Coffee Carnage” in retaliation
Chapter 20: Manager Mode Activated
Summary:
A rude guest pushes too far. Isha does not raise her voice. She raises the clipboard. The destruction is total.
Notes:
~1700
Chapter Text
The inn had weathered many types of guests.
The enthusiastic.
The dramatic.
The haunted.
The extremely confused (usually lost pilgrims).
But this one?
This one was rude.
He barked at Mara.
Snapped his fingers at Jayce.
Called Curl “just a cat.”
(Curl clawed his boot within 30 seconds.)
Everyone tensed.
Then he said the words:
> “I want to speak to whoever’s in charge.”
And like a storm front made of judgment and wool sweaters—
Isha appeared.
---
Her Entrance
She stepped into the common room in complete silence.
Oversized clipboard in hand.
Expression blank.
Hair perfectly parted.
She did not blink.
She did not smile.
She walked right up to the guest, flipped a page, and began writing.
---
The Guest Blinks
> “Are you—uh—the manager?”
Scribble.
Flip.
More scribble.
He looked nervous.
Jayce peeked from the kitchen like a man watching a volcano build pressure.
Terra sat in the corner, sipping tea, eyes gleaming.
---
The Evaluation Begins
Isha held up the clipboard, revealing the top page.
At the top, in her perfect handwriting:
> Evaluation: Guest 47-B – Behavior & Demeanor Assessment
Bullet points followed:
Volume: Inappropriate. Not in a theater, not the main character.
Tone: Condescending. Would not recommend.
Finger snapping: Unacceptable in 8 out of 9 dimensions.
Treatment of Cat: Criminal. Curl has declared a vendetta.
Personal Energy: Like wet socks on a cold floor.
The guest stammered.
> “I—you can’t just—”
Isha flipped to page two.
---
Page Two: Life Audit
> Estimated Number of Friends: 0–2, all coworkers.
Emotional maturity rating: Banana peel.
Sense of style: Last-minute clearance section.
Romantic potential: Declined.
Average Yelp review energy: One star, all caps, spells “restaurant” wrong.
He gaped.
Isha didn’t move.
Scribble.
Flip.
Final page.
---
Page Three: Suggested Improvements
“Apologize to Mara.”
“Pet Curl (with permission).”
“Stop using the phrase ‘I’m a paying customer.’”
“Use your indoor voice. And your indoor personality.”
“Leave before you are replaced with a better version of yourself.”
He slowly backed toward the door.
Curl sat in the center of the hallway like a tiny, fluffy bouncer.
He sidestepped. Nearly tripped. Then fled.
---
Aftermath
Jayce:
> “...I think I’m in love with that clipboard.”
Viktor:
> “I want to digitize it and sell copies.”
Terra:
> “We don’t deserve her.”
Curl loafed directly beneath the clipboard, now displayed above the bar.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Isha Goes Full Manager
Clipboard Pages Used: 3
Guest Ego Shattered: Yes
Curl’s Role: Enforcer
Suggested Edits by Jinx: “Add ‘smells like melted crayons’ to style critique”
Mara: Called Isha “Boss” for the rest of the day
Chapter 21: Jinx Day (Whatever Happens, Happens)
Summary:
Jinx has free reign for the day. There are sock puppets. There is a goat. Viktor disappears. Jayce reconsiders his life choices. Terra digs a shallow grave—“just in case.”
Notes:
~2000 words
Chapter Text
There was no warning.
Only a hastily scribbled note pinned to the wall of the dining room:
> “It’s Jinx Day. Rules are off. You’re welcome.”
—Management (probably)
It was signed in glitter and jelly.
---
Hour 1: Morning Sock Briefing
Breakfast was interrupted by Jinx standing on a table wearing a scarf made of mismatched socks.
Each sock had a face drawn on it.
She performed a dramatic skit called:
> “The Tragic Backstory of Lefty the Forgotten Sock.”
Jayce tried to ask questions.
A sock named “Judge Blistertoes” shushed him.
Viktor left the room. Swiftly.
---
Hour 2: Unscheduled Parade
Jinx marched through the halls banging pots together while chanting:
> “THE FLOOR IS LAVA, PAY YOUR RENT IN DANCE.”
She threw marshmallows at anyone not moving fast enough.
Isha sidestepped the parade.
Mara joined in for two laps before feigning an ankle injury.
Terra barricaded her room with mushrooms.
---
Hour 3: Guest Rebranding
Jinx rewrote the names on every guest room door.
Examples:
“Room 2” became “The Echo Chamber of Regret”
“Room 5” became “NO BONES ZONE”
“Viktor’s Lab” became “Frog Church”
“Jayce’s Room” became “The Hot Mess Express (First Class)”
Viktor returned, saw the label on his lab, and quietly left again.
---
Hour 4: Chaos Projects Begin
No one saw what happened between breakfast and lunch.
But by the time the bell rang for food:
There was a live goat wearing roller skates in the garden
Jinx had painted a mural of Curl on the dining wall (with wings)
The hearth had been converted into a “Snuggle Pit,” filled with pillows and questionably warm glitter sand
She installed a lever labeled “DO NOT PULL.”
Jayce pulled it.
A speaker somewhere in the walls screamed:
> “YOU HAD ONE JOB, JAYCE.”
---
Hour 5: The Quiet Period
Everyone braced themselves.
Because Jinx was quiet.
Too quiet.
She was seen whispering to Curl.
Curl nodded once.
Then loafed in the center of the dining room like a beacon of impending judgment.
Jayce:
> “She’s planning something.”
Terra:
> “I know that look.”
Isha: Scribble.
---
Hour 6: The Jinx Heist
Three chairs went missing.
So did a lamp, a full loaf of bread, two spoons, and Viktor.
No one saw him go.
They found a sock puppet on his lab door.
It said:
> “Science Boy. Taken. Return after snacks.”
---
Hour 7: The Reveal
At sundown, she called everyone to the garden.
Unveiled her “masterpiece.”
It was a giant banner hung from the trees.
Painted in bold, bright letters:
> “HAPPY NOT-BIRTHDAY, FAMILY!”
Beneath it was a chaotic tea party setup.
No one had a birthday.
She handed out hats anyway.
Jayce cried a little.
Mel made a toast.
Viktor reappeared with no explanation.
Curl sat in the center, wearing a paper crown.
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Jinx Day
Goat Appearances: 1
Questionable Levers: 3
Viktor’s Will to Live: Under Review
Terra: Dug a shallow grave, "just in case"
Isha: Labeled the day as “unexpectedly effective team bonding”
Jinx: Assembled a puppet play titled “Next Time, More Fire”
Chapter 22: The Manager and the Goat
Summary:
Isha ascends. The goat is suited. Sunglasses are involved. Screaming occurs. Everyone obeys. Eventually.
Notes:
~1900 words
Chapter Text
Following the chaos of Jinx Day, most assumed Isha would return to quiet oversight and occasional clipboard judgments.
They were wrong.
She had leveled up.
---
The Morning Meeting
Jayce wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
Stopped.
Stared.
At the center of the dining hall stood Isha—clipboard in one hand, tea in the other.
Beside her stood a goat.
In a black suit.
And sunglasses.
Jayce blinked.
> “...Why is there a goat in a tux?”
Isha flipped a page on her clipboard.
The goat screamed.
Jayce instinctively stepped back.
---
The New System
Isha now held briefings every morning.
Quiet, efficient, and terrifying.
She tapped items off her clipboard.
The goat followed her at every step, occasionally screaming when:
Someone wasn’t listening
Someone spoke too loudly
Viktor tried to leave early
Jinx suggested “surprise glitter inspections”
Guests tiptoed through the hallways.
Jayce referred to the goat as “HR with horns.”
---
The First Offense
One guest left a mess in the tea corner.
Isha arrived silently.
Tore off a note and handed it over.
The note read:
> “Violation: Utensil Neglect.”
“Penalty: Immediate Reorganization of Spoon Drawer.”
“Assisted by: Gerald.” (The goat)
The goat screamed once.
The guest complied.
---
The Second Offense
Jinx installed a ceiling catapult.
Isha stood beneath it.
Looked up.
Wrote one thing on her clipboard.
Handed it to Jinx.
Jinx read it.
Paused.
Then high-fived the goat.
And uninstalled the catapult.
> “I’ve never felt so seen,” she whispered.
---
Managerial Excellence
Viktor tried to sneak a lab shipment through the front without approval.
The goat blocked him.
Would not move.
He tried to sidestep.
The goat turned.
They locked eyes.
The goat screamed.
Viktor backed up, muttering,
> “Your power is unnatural.”
---
The New Poster
Mara, with Terra’s help, created a new sign for the wall.
---
BEHOLD: THE MANAGER AND THE GOAT
All decisions final.
Clipboards are sacred.
Screaming is communication.
You may not pet Gerald. You may ask.
You may not outvote Isha. You may try.
—Management
---
Betting Board Update:
Event: Goat Management Protocol
Goat Name: Gerald
Formal Attire: Yes
Screams Per Hour: 4–6
Isha’s Authority Level: Absolute
Jayce: Terrified but weirdly proud
Curl: Loafed next to Gerald once. Mutual respect achieved
Jinx: Sketching blueprints for goat-compatible jet boots. For emergencies.
Brought_to_you_by_Ceravon on Chapter 17 Thu 17 Apr 2025 02:04AM UTC
Last Edited Thu 17 Apr 2025 02:04AM UTC
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