Single post in Ivy Chateau: Prelude

The cry of pain snapped Ketzal from his idle tapping, sitting up in the chair to look for which mouse had managed to hurt themselves. Spotting Frappe in the hall nursing her paw, he relaxed. "Frappe - the universe is telling you you're pacing too much. You'll wear the carpet raw." Her weary complaint echoed back, and she started the trek to the front desk where he was. Ketzal moved through the computer's tabs as he waited, her travel slowed by both her small strides and her disappointed pace. A small sigh from behind the desk signaled she was ready. He leaned forward over the desk to see the diminutive Pokemon, grabbing one of the carrots off the platter to hand down to her. She took it silently, starting to nibble at one end while he spoke. “Look. I understand why you’re worried. Two full days without a customer…” He sucked in some air through his teeth, releasing it in a quick laugh. “...doesn’t look great. But most companies don’t make money for the first couple of years, and we’re operating at a lower overhead than pretty much any hotel in the region!” He offered cheerfully. She gave no response, despite his wait. A moment passed, Ketzal waiting for the mouse to offer anything to the conversation before giving up and sitting back in the chair. The Cinccino finished her snack sitting in front of the desk, safe in the knowledge he couldn’t see her over it. She struggled to put her thoughts into words… a little time to compose herself was necessary. Eventually, she’d have to deal with it though. She had nothing else to do. Everything was as ready as it could be. With another dramatic sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, walking around the counter to get Ketzal’s attention again. [Hi.] The salute-wave was unenthusiastic and the accompanying squeak nearly mute. Ketzal turned in his seat, looking down at his friend with an amused smile. “You know, one day you’ll miss this place being so quiet.” Her look of disinterest made it clear she didn’t appreciate the sentiment. Brushing a hand along his face, Ketzal continued, “Frappe… ugh. Sitting around moping isn’t good for you, and apparently walking around moping is worse.” [I don’t know.] “Don’t know what?” He asked, surprised. [Why this is bad.] “You don’t… what?” Ketzal paused, repeating, “You don’t know why this is bad.” to himself. “Well, what were you expecting to happen when we opened?” He asked gently, leaning forward in his chair. Her paws increased in speed, a foot tapping against the ground nervously as she opens up. [I know not to get my hopes up. I know we weren’t supposed to get guests yet. But I hoped anyway. And I’ve spent so long hoping. Now we’re here. It’s so close!] She squeaked aloud, a reserved excitement to her accompanying statement. Then she stopped. Then, one more set of signs. [But it’s so quiet.] “Oh.” Ketzal muttered, pushing himself back up. He surveyed the empty lobby for a moment. He’d been in hotel lobbies before. Outside of breakfast hours, they normally were pretty quiet. People didn’t spend time in the lobby, they passed through to get to their rooms or passed through to go explore the surrounding areas. But now, this made a little more sense. He had assumed her request for entertainers was some odd lost-in-translation moment. “Frappe, what does this place look like when it’s done? What do you want to see on a normal day?” Frappe looked lost in thought. There were a million answers to the question, and it was hard to be specific with the language she was using. She had to try though, if only for her own sake. [Swarming.] Her paws had to stop to cover a small bout of titters. [Pokemon, big and small, in the rooms, in the lobby, talking, laughing. Some enjoying beautiful weather outside, chasing each other around or training in the arena! Great food, better people, everyone so happy to be together!] “A family.” She stopped cold. The warmth of the dreamscape was lost, the baggage that had suddenly been forced on it making it uncomfortable. [No.] Her paw cut the air quickly, her attention suddenly anywhere but him. [You said make it feel like a home. People at home should be happy and comfortable. Safe. But they’ll leave. It’s temporary.] Ketzal watched her for a moment, letting the tension hang in the air. He only spoke again when she finally made eye contact. “Alright. Yeah, you’re right. We’ll only have each guest for a week, maybe a month at worst.” He concluded with a playful smirk. “But that’s useful for me. I didn’t realize… I thought you wanted to run this more like a human hotel. Guess I should’ve figured your plan would be a little more unique.” [How?] She retorted defensively, her eyes narrowed. “Well, in a human hotel, you don’t stay in the hotel. You just go there to sleep. But in a Pokemon hotel, we probably should expect our guests to stay on the premises. I might have to actually find you one of the singers you put on the list. We’ll see what I can do.” He shrugged, watching her expression gradually change to one of surprise. Little miscommunications weren’t particularly rare between the two, but the line between humans and Pokemon was something they weren’t often reminded of. It was easy to forget she’d never stayed in a normal hotel before. They had had many more difficulties with Frappe being short or illiterate than being ‘too Pokemon’, especially considering there were a number of Pokemon that were both of those things. [Thank you.] She seemed distracted, but far less mopey than she had been. Thoughtful, if anything. [Maybe it will be weird, but I can accept that. If Pokemon are happy here, I don’t care how weird we are!] Frappe stuck her tongue out at Ketzal, getting a small laugh. She began to speak aloud, apparently considering something, before stopping with a sudden squeak. [But that doesn’t matter if there’s no Pokemon here.] “Stop, stop. Don’t go back to sulking. I meant to do this earlier, before we actually opened, but here.” From the desk drawer, Ketzal drew two pamphlets. Being of his design, they weren’t anything incredible, just some paragraphs of text accompanying well-angled photographs that accentuated the ‘rustic charm’ of the building, but they would do. “I’m going to send these to Citris and Sheo, and maybe I can drop some of them around town. Give them a look.” He handed them down, with one being immediately dropped so she could better inspect the first. Turning it around, upside down, folding it, unfolding it, doing all of these things in random order, eventually, she had her decision. With a decisive shake of her head, she tossed them both in the trash bin. “Frappe!” [We should send personal invitations!] She grinned. [Those two are the investors, right?] “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I actually know them personally. I only met Sheo when they closed down his first farm and Citris… well, we don’t travel in the same circles anymore.” Ketzal shook his head. He reached for the pamphlets, only to be stopped by a swat at his hand. With a determined squeak, she explained, [Then I’ll write them! I can thank them and invite them to visit.] “You can’t write.” Ketzal shot back immediately, rolling his eyes. “Or read.” [Just give me some paper.] She stared back, a sly challenge in her eyes. With a shrug, Ketzal sat back up, digging in the drawer for something to write on. After displacing about half of the assorted small tools and files thrown in the drawer, two blank pieces of letter paper finally end up on the desk. He glanced down at her. He then stood up. She gave a dramatic curtsy of thanks, hopping up into the chair so he could push her up to the desk. “Alright, let’s see it then.” Ketzal smiled, leaning over the desk to the side so he could watch her fumble with the pencil. He would be surprised to watch her cast it to the side. Her claws dug into her scarf, searching for the thin fishing line invisible against her coat until it finally caught. Slowly, she worked her claw along it, pulling the small pouch out and over her head to free it. “Oh, Frappe, really? For this?” Ketzal shook his head, exasperated. She placed the pouch on the desk to free her hands. [I have to practice with it!] She protested, an indignant chirp her defense. “Can’t wait to see this go wrong. Evil magic letter destroys stone castle, more at 9.” Ketzal stated, his mock headline complete with a smirk. [It won’t be that bad, calm down.] She pulls the pouch open, the coin-sized pink gem emitting a dim glow among the gray haze of dust within. Reaching in and pulling it out, she swore she could hear the soft chimes of the Fairy magic, singing its otherworldly tune. The gem was held to the light, its translucence marred by the coating of dust across the surface. With a peek over at Ketzal’s disapproving watch, she gave her own little smirk. She gave him another quick squeak of reassurance, then she was ready to begin. Holding it in both paws, she whispered to herself, <I wish I could tell them how thankful I am.> A quick moment of reflection to check for any obvious slip-ups that could be interpreted in such a way to somehow cause the letters to come to life and destroy the building - because you never know - and she continued. Gingerly, she released one paw, brushing it against the dirtied faces of the gem to clear the dust coating. She then sprinkled it across the letters, watching as the dust sparkled in the air, settling into strange looped shapes. Once the dust had settled, it glowed a soft pink like that of the gem, then vanished, leaving behind markings black as char. “Huh.” Ketzal stood upright, moving to the other side of the letters as though his perspective would change the result. He then shifted again, standing just next to Frappe. Quickly she dropped the gem back into the bag of dust, pulling the cord over her head and burying the pouch back in her scarf. [What does it say? Read it read it!] She signed, squeaking loudly and rapidly. Her excitement was obvious enough, the chair rotating from her eager movements, but Ketzal wasn’t moving fast enough for her. Cautiously, her human made to grab one. He stopped just above the letter, waiting for some searing heat; nothing that obvious. The font looked proper, a formal cursive, written in black instead of blood or neon or something else crazy. Maybe it had worked right this time. Holding it at a safe distance, he read: “Dear… Citrus.” He scanned over the other letter quickly, finding it at least spelled the other name correctly. “We can fix that in post.” There was an annoyed grumble, Frappe rolling her eyes at the technical failure. Clearing his throat, he continued, “My name is Frappe, and I’m the Cinccino whose dream you helped fund. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am for your generosity. This hotel, now open to the public and ready to serve the Pokemon of Nimbasa, stands in no small part due to your investment, and it’s my sincere hope that our success may in some way serve to benefit you in pride, fortune, or mere gratitude. You are a angel in all of our eyes - a angel? It should be an angel.” He looked down at her, frowning. [I’m going to hit you.] “May this day find you well, and all those to follow… yours truly, Frappe.” Done with the joking, he reread it silently to himself. Just the fact that it hadn’t burnt through the counter meant it had been better than he expected, and while he wished he had the chance to actually test Frappe’s abilities with this gem, clearly she had been. She was more comfortable using it than she had been the last time it’d come out. The handwriting was more than just legible, it was far better than his own. Perfectly spaced, measured, with a consistency in the letters’ designs that only a printer could match. With a quiet hmm he returned it to the desk. “It’s a little schmaltzy, but it’ll work.” [A… What?] “There is one issue though.” He said, suddenly serious. Frappe looked up in concern. Snatching the pamphlets from the bin, he added, “It doesn’t actually invite them to show up. So, we’ll send both, and see who comes!” Frappe sighed, rolling her eyes. [Fine. They better show up though!] The now-folded letter and pamphlet fall into an unearthed envelope with a soft thk. “Something tells me they will.”