Lucky Rabbit

Dinner consisted of five courses, starting with a mushroom tartlet that none of the children liked, though only Thaniel and Geraldine actually tossed them onto the floor for their pets. Miss Cupcakes gave the squishy gray thing a single sniff and turned up her nose, so Pandy got to eat both of them. The cobb salad went over a bit better, and Pandy had her own, so she didn’t mind that Thaniel only gave her the tomatoes. Soup was something that smelled fishy, but Pandy didn’t get to try it, and the main course was filet mignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, and sauteed asparagus. Pandy got all of the asparagus, while Miss Cupcakes and Lord Winston ate steak.

No one could say the students didn’t eat well, though teachers wandered among them, correcting posture and utensil selection, as well as making sure conversation focused on polite but innocuous subjects, such as the weather, the food, and what they’d done over the summer break. This prevented Thaniel and the others from talking about what had happened that day, and once dessert – a chocolate souffle with whipped cream and raspberry coulis – was done, the chancellor stood up.

“We hope each and every one of you had an overall positive experience today. At times, it can be a struggle to remember how important education is, and what a difference it will make in your lives, but I assure you, you will be better for this experience.” His gaze swept the room, catching on a few specific students, and Pandy guessed Thaniel and the others weren’t the only ones who’d run into trouble at some point.

“As part of that experience, we expect each and every one of you to participate in keeping the school clean and helping both the staff and your fellow students. To that end, some of you have already received assigned chores for this evening, so you may now be excused to go attend to those.” Chairs scraped as a few students rose and left the dining hall. Most of them were older, and actually looked excited about whatever they were going to do, but some of them were distinctly sullen.

Once they were gone, the Chancellor smiled around at the remaining students. “The rest of you will be assigned chores based on your small group. When I call your advisor’s name, please stand.” He listed a few teachers, their students rose, and about ten children were sent to the stables. More students went off to clean and tidy the classrooms and hallways, while others were told to report to the gardens to help with watering and weeding.

Finally, Ms. Wellington’s name was called, and Thaniel and the others rose. They, along with Mrs. Lovett’s fifth-year group, were sent to the kitchen. The kitchen, where Jonah worked, and if he was there, he would presumably recognize her and Thaniel. After all, it wasn’t like there were any other white rabbits with red eyes thumping around the school at night. Probably.

A young man in a white apron led the group of nine students – apparently one of Mrs. Lovett’s students didn’t live in, and was thus spared doing chores – back to the kitchen, which was far from the dark, empty space Pandy remembered. The vast table was now filled with small stations that had obviously been used to prepare the meal, and were now covered in peels, drippings, and squashed things. The huge sinks – which had just looked like more counters when illuminated by moonlight – were filled with pots, pans, and greasy dishes.

“You and you,” their guide said, pointing at fifth-years, “will wash dishes. You remember how, right?”

The three students sighed but nodded, and were handed gloves that looked like they might be made from waxed or oiled cloth, rather than rubber. Next, Geraldine and Abbington were assigned to dry the clean dishes, while the Isidor and the tallest fifth-year was supposed to put them away. Thaniel, Eleanor, and another of the older students were set to clean off the table, and the last fifth-year was handed a broom.

Once all nine students were hard at work, the aproned young man – who couldn’t have been more than twenty – settled himself down on a chair off to one side and took a pad and pen from his apron pocket. He began scribbling away, paying no apparent attention to the children except to lift his feet when the boy with the broom had to sweep around his chair.

Pandy and Lord Winston settled in under the table, though Miss Cupcakes tried to stay near Geraldine. She gave up after being splashed with warm, soapy water one too many times – which was exactly once, for anyone who was counting – and joined the rabbit and dog beneath the table.

Chores only lasted half an hour, which was a miniscule amount of time compared to the amount of work to be done, and Pandy knew she couldn’t do anything that would take long or draw attention to herself. Still, she pulled up her Status and examined it.

Name: Pandy

Race: Rabbit? (Deceased)

Age: 24

LF: 1/1

Mana: 15/15

Stats▾

Strength: 8 Intelligence: 12 Agility: 15 Pain Tolerance: 1Skills▾

Hop: Lv.15 (30/55) Bite: Lv. 14 (32/46) Scratch: Lv. 10 (2/10) Minor Heal: Lv. 15 (54/55) Wings of Glory: Lv. 1 Verdant Surge: Lv. 1 Vita Herbalis: Lv 1 Boons▾

Ismara’s Blessing IMark of KerosCorruption Points: 118

She stared at the three digits of her Corruption Points, knowing that it was time to do something with them, especially now that Keros had apparently managed to convince the System to tell her how many CP it would cost to get any particular skill. The question was, what should she get? She had a plan, but frankly, it terrified her. She had already talked herself out of it once, and she was sure she could do it again if she tried hard enough.

So maybe the first thing was to find out what her options really were. Of course there were a number of spells and skills she’d like to have, but almost all of the best ones were used by characters besides Clara. Given that Verdant Surge had definitely been glitchy when she got it, she really thought she should talk to the idiot god before she tried something like that again. What if using non-Clara skills was as bad as pushing the SPIN! button?

She could always just try leveling up Vita Herbalis, maybe using some of the asparagus-bits on the floor – the sweeper boy wasn’t very good at his job, and hadn’t even tried to reach very far under the table – but she wanted to know what some of Clara’s other skills would cost if she needed them.

she thought, deciding to try one of the first spells Clara learned.

Use Twelve (12) Corruption Points to cast Dispel?

Pandy thought, remembering how it felt to gain a spell. Yes, she could definitely afford this one, but since she didn’t have any demonic or Dark influence to get rid of at the moment, she wasn’t going to waste her CP and endure the creepy-crawly discomfort that filled her when the System did…whatever it did to her.

The important thing was that this spell cost twelve points, while Vita Herbalis – a mid-game spell gained only on Bastian’s path – was fifty-two. So what did that tell her? Was the difference because Vita Herbalis was only available in one quarter of regular, non-gacha-using playthroughs, or because of how much later in the game it was?

she thought. This skill was one Clara got if she did well at the midwinter ball. It was really only useful in the Kaden and Edgar routes, but Pandy always picked it up because, well, why not? All it did was make certain people slightly more inclined to like her, but it was always nice to be liked, right?

Use Thirty (30) Corruption Points to use Graceful Presence?

she said again. That…wasn’t really helpful. The different routes really started to branch after the midwinter ball, and Clara got Vita Herbalis in the very next chapter, if she danced with Bastian last, and went for a walk in the garden with him, so that he could show her a flower that bloomed only at midnight on Midwinter Eve. But Vita Herbalis cost a whole twenty-two CP more than Graceful Presence. Was that because Graceful Presence was a skill you got almost automatically? Honestly, as long as your Charm and Talent were at least level ten, you couldn’t avoid it unless you chose not to dance at all, which would result in a Friendship ending, at best.

What else should she try? Maybe something that would provide some protection next time the world tried to murder Thaniel.

Use Twenty-one (21) Corruption Points to cast Shield of Light?

That…was actually tempting. Shield of Light wasn’t very strong, at least not in the beginning. Rather than being a true shield, it prevented some damage from hitting, depending on its level and how much damage was being dealt. Clara learned it right before going into her first dungeon, though she didn’t really need it there.

Still, if she used twenty-one points on Shield of Light, she might not have enough for the spell she actually wanted, which meant it was time to see how much that one would cost. Drawing in a deep – but unnecessary, as always – breath, Pandy thought,

In Gacha Love, the Charm of Shifting Faces was an end-game item given to Clara as a reward for defeating the demon army. You could choose to use it exactly once, allowing you to experience various ‘epilogues’ for other characters, including fallen villains and your rejected suitors. If you didn’t use it, the game skipped directly to Clara’s wedding and a brief montage of her future life, leading directly into the credits and then Game Plus, so you could start over again.

The question was, was the charm itself magical, or was it enchanted with a spell called ‘Shifting Faces’? If it was magical in and of itself, this probably wouldn’t work, but technically, Pandy knew where the charm was, she just wasn’t sure how she was going to reach it. She could figure it out eventually, though.

If it was enchanted, and when Clara used it, she was actually casting a spell, then Pandy should also be able to learn the spell now. It wasn’t a spell Clara was supposed to learn, per se, and it was an end-game spell, and Pandy suspected both of those things would increase the CP cost, as well as potentially draining or damaging the god.

Words flickered in front of her eyes, faded, then reappeared. She couldn’t focus on them, and she certainly couldn’t read them, and then they started to drip like someone had just smeared grape jam across her nonexistent screen.

Use One hṹndręd fifty-six (¹56) ₡ⱺrruption Points to cast ƺƕƖƒɫɨɴρ ϝΔϿɞᴤ?

Pandy stared at the barely legible words. For the first time, she was glad that the System used both the written number and the numerals. The one in one hundred-fifty-six was barely an afterthought, and she might well have missed it entirely. She had had a feeling this would be expensive, but more than one hundred and fifty Corruption Points? How was she ever going to get that many? Well, other than drinking blood and…sitting near Thaniel’s new friend, Suzanne. Would she even be able to do that again, though? Now that the term had properly started, surely the older students wouldn’t want to sit with a quintet of six-year-olds.

The gentle bell chimed, letting the students know their daily torment was over. Dishes were dropped back into soapy water with a splash, the broom was thrust against the nearest wall, and the fifth-year students were gone with barely a word to the young man who worked in the kitchen. He looked up from his notes, shaking his head, then looked at Thaniel and the others.

“You can go as well,” he said, not unkindly. “You’ve got an hour of free time, and you probably don’t even have homework yet. Enjoy it while you can.”

The children exchanged glances, and then Eleanor nodded politely. “Thank you very much, ah… May I ask your name?”

Now the young man did look surprised. “I’m Calum. Just one of the assistant cooks.”

All five children looked at each other, and Geraldine started to edge toward the door, but Thaniel said, “Being polite doesn’t cost anything, but sometimes being impolite costs a lot. That’s what my mom always said. But what’re you writing?”

Calum blinked, then held up the book. “It’s a list of what we’ll need to buy at the market in the morning. I have to keep track of what we have, then take out what we use, and lay that against the meals Chef Farrier has planned for the week, and how many students we have.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s a lot of math, and you have to know all the recipes or look them up, but Mr. Farrier says a good cook knows his kitchen inside and out.”

“So you want to have your own kitchen someday?” Thaniel asked, though he looked at the book like it might have some kind of polynomial plague.

The young cook still seemed very confused to be speaking to one of the students about something other than their chores, but gamely said, “Yes. Lots of people go to Falconet, and they remember Mr. Farrier’s meals fondly. Training under him will give me a leg up when I apply to work in the kitchen of any noble house.”

“That makes sense,” Thaniel said, nodding. Then he swung around to what Pandy suspected he’d been working up to the whole time. “Is Mr. Farrier a kind of old man, with a-” he mimed a potbelly that was much larger than the one Jonah actually sported.

Calum almost managed to keep a straight face. “I suppose a, um, young student like yourself might see him that way.”

Thaniel grinned, flashing his dimples again. “Would you tell him the boy with the bunny said hello, and thanks again?”

“I…will.” Calum agreed, and Thaniel nodded before reaching under the table to scoop up Pandy.

Turning back to his friends, he said,“Let’s go to the practice grounds. I want to show you all my sword!” He headed for the door, then paused and waved to Calum, who was still seated, looking entirely nonplussed. “Thanks Mr. Calum!” The other four echoed this with varying degrees of formality, and the children left, with Miss Cupcakes and Lord Winston hot on their heels.