Chapter Text
The quaint little city of Virtua City was a sleepy place. In as much as a city could be sleepy with cars and traffic lights and quaint coffee shops. Buildings painted in hideous pastel colors all blending properly, like some order-obsessed maniacs lined the sidewalks, with high-ish brick walls topped by wrought iron spikes. Not the most effective anti-burglar tool, but it got the job done, Bae supposed. The city was often nicknamed the eternal fall, because trees seemed to shed and shed and shed and yet never run out of leaves. The carpet of browns and golds and reds and oranges made for a nice accent with the lightly overcast day.
“You heard about the mansion in the forest?” The bartender, a tall girl with pink hair whose nametag read Calliope, a name Bae loved, asked, playing around with one of the many levers and switches on the coffee machine.
“No, but if you give me a discount on the coffee, I’ll tell you all about it!” Bae flashed one of her charming smiles, the ones that had gotten her plenty of late night companions during her investigative journalism degree. Calliope rolled her eyes, Calli to her friends, of which Bae was certain there was one or two. Maybe three, if you counted the love-hate relationship she carried on with the fast food worker a few blocks over.
“I mean, yeah, story time, but also, hell no. You’re already abusing your membership privileges.” Calli said, and Bae couldn’t help laughing.
“Anyways, you were saying?” She asked, waiting for the girl to finish making her vanilla pomegranate cinnamon latte.
“The house. The one in the forest. Someone bought it.” Calli said, and slid Bae’s drink over the rollerway in the counter, an ingenious invention that Bae had only partially helped engineer. She was a detective, after all, not a sciency techy person.
“Yeah? How much did it go for? Who moved in?” Bae asked, watching Calli lean back against one of the counters. Thankfully, Bae tended to visit on dead hours, so chilling and chatting was a very viable passtime.
“Okay, so my friend in real estate-”
“Scammer that she is,”
“Ahem! Anyways. My friend was the agent who sold it, said it went for easily four or five times its actual value.” Calli sighed, and Bae leaned forward. This was a backwards little town city place. She actually wasn’t sure if it was large enough to be a city. What made a city a city anyways? The number of skyscrapers? Cus if it was that then Virtua was so not a city.
“Who bought it?” She asked. Again. Backwards little podunk town. People with that kind of money visited Virtua to hide. And if there was something to hide, Hakos Baelz would be the first to uncover it!
“She said it was someone named Ouro Kronii.” Calli said, and then pushed off of the counter. “Hi! Welcome to-” Bae tuned her out. Favorite pad and second-favorite pen in hand, Bae started scribbling. What do millionaires normally hide from? Taxes. Other rich people. Secrets. Not an extensive or specific list. Why here? It wasn’t a tax haven, that Bae knew of, but now she’d be asking a lawyer she knew was into tax law to go over her taxes soon. It was… kind of isolated. There was still the twice-a-day bus to the big metropolis a couple of hours drive away. She was in the middle of scratching out the taxes (something she dearly wished she could do in real life), when Calli started talking again.
“Said she dressed like it was the 1800’s almost. Walked around with a maid, paid for the house in cash.” Calli said. That caught Bae’s attention.
“Like… millions of dollars… in physical bills?” She started jotting down in her notebook. When you paid in cash, you were, more often than not, looking to go paperless, to leave no trail. That settled it. This Ouro Kronii was hiding from someone. But who, and why? That would likely be answered by whatever google would bring up, but it was something to keep in mind.
“Yeah. Said the whole thing gave her, like, the shivers or something, iunno.” A thought occurred to Bae.
“Isn’t this, like… wealthy eccentric central?” She gestured at the partially empty streets outside the cafe windows. “There’s the one that says she’s a sorceress of some kind, there’s the guy who likes to pretend to be a time traveler, the japanese demon guy, this place is basically full of weirdoes!”
“I mean… yeah? But that’s, like, small time stuff. Ame said that this Kronii character gave her weird vibes, and you know Ame.” Bae did not, in fact, know Ame. The aforementioned Ame, one Amelia Watson, was a local who had her hands in just about every pie in town, and somehow never seemed to actually earn anything. It was astounding. Bae had, more than once, tried to figure out where all the money went. But without some kind of court order, she couldn’t exactly ask to see the finances for several of the most well-loved businesses in town.
“So she’s some kind of eccentric plus plus?” Bae said instead, because Amelia Watson was eccentric like nobody else. So if she said someone was eccentric, it was doubly so. Calli hummed her agreement.
“Rush starts in like… five. Dunno if you wanna stick around for it.” Calli said, after a beat of silence. Yeah no. Rush hour was too many people for Bae. She hopped off the stool and made her way to the exit.
“Yeah no. That’s too much for me. See ya ‘round Calli!” She waved her goodbye as she left the cafe. She loved Calli. But that many people, in close confines? Nah. Pass. Nope train to Fuck-that-ville. Whatever terms you wanted. The long-ish walk back to her little one bedroom flat had her thinking. If this Ouro Kronii was hiding from something, it might be something she could use. Granted, that was no guarantee of anything. And she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d use it for. But a juicy piece of blackmail never went astray. Her building came into view a couple of hours later.
A tall, ugly thing, in an infuriatingly soft pastel peach color, with inoffensive, white-trimmed windows. Not even the brick fence with wrought iron spikes could make it even a little more threatening. Letting her keys jingle out from one of her jacket pockets, she opened the white door with its creaky hinges. Wooden floors and carpeted stairs led her to her 5th floor flat. Once inside, she threw her messenger bag on the faux pleather couch in the corner, and set about starting up her computer.
The dusty thing whirred to life, flashing in red blue and yellow. The LED strips inside had long since stopped working properly, and Bae had been to busy (read: lazy), to put in new ones. She opened up the browser some 5 minutes after she’d turned it back on, a testament to the little workhorse’s immense efforts.
“Let’s see, let’s see… Oro… Cronie…” She paused in her typing. “How d’you even spell that?” She asked the empty flat. Fifteen minutes later and some variations on the spelling she hadn’t even guessed at, the webpage for one Ouro Kronii popped up.
“Hah! You cannot escape my immense googling prowess!” Bae crowed, and then promptly almost fell out of her chair. A minute or so of grumbling later, she finally started to do a bit more digging into enigmatic rich girl Ouro Kronii. Not that there was much to dig into.
Born to a wealthy family, the girl had her fingers in… a pie. Her family owned Ouroboros Inc. though no amount of googling would tell her what they did. Perhaps it was a shell company for something more illegal? It would explain the need to hide, and the payment in cash. There were no pictures of her beyond a few family portraits. Not even a good shoot from some papparazzi. Was this woman a ghost? Bae sighed and leaned back in her chair, careful not to reach the tipping point. There wasn’t really much left to do except the legwork. She shot a quick message to Calli.
You free?
Depends. What d’you need?
You have Ame’s mumber?
*nyumber
**number
Yeah. Gimme a sec.
Bae waited patiently by making herself a coffee. Her coffee machine percolating away happily, she wrote down Amelia’s number in the little black book she kept in the false bottom drawer in her room (which she had bought to sound as sus as possible when she told people, if she ever did). Then she typed it intoa new contact on her phone, and dialed it. The phone rang twice before someone answered.
“Hello, you’ve reached the all-encompasing office of Amelia Watson, what’s your problem and how can we solve it?” The cheery voice asked. Bae smiled at nothing.
“Well, Miss Watson, My name is Hakos Baelz-”
“Oh! Calli mentioned you’d probably be calling today! How can I help you, Miss Baels~?”
“Well, I was hoping you’d have time for some questions later today,” Bae glanced at the grimy clock on her stove, which she really needed to clean. It read 8:42 P.M., “Or tomorrow, as the case may be. I have some questions for you about a client of yours.”
“Of course! Though you should know that I maintain a very strict client privacy policy.” There wasn’t really a warning in her voice, but Bae took it seriously enough,
“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to ask your impressions of them~!” She said. There was a near silent hum, probably from the fridge.
“Sure! Calli’s cafe, tomorrow at noon?” Amelia asked, and Bae nodded, before realizing that The other woman couldn’t see.
“Sure! I’ll be there!” She said, and hung up the call. She went back to her second favorite note pad and started writing. It would be several hours before the interview questions were manageable, so she had best get started.
It dawned on Bae that maybe sleeping at her desk was a bad idea. Streamers of light from the still half-hidden sun found juuuust the right angle to spear Bae’s eyes, even through her eyelids.
“Ow! Gods damn-! You’re an ass!” She yelled at the sun. Unfortunately awake, she cracked her back and did her best to wipe the drool off of the desk, thankful that none of it was on the note pad. Corkboard behind her computer screen was littered with pins and torn out pages, listing questions and possible avenues of questioning.
She stretched and yawned, awkwardly standing and stumbling to the kitchen to stuff whatever was available into some eggs for a good morning omlette. She was still flipping the egg, albeit with little success, when her phone rang. A quick walk out of and then back into the kitchen, and Bae answered the phone.
“Yello~!”
“Bae bae~!” The voice on the other line was one of the few voices she could sew unmitigated chaos with.
“G-shark! Whats up?”
“Listen. I have a research trip down to Greece-”
“Are you still chasing Atlantis?” Bae asked. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in Atlantis, this world was full of enough mysteries and secrets that it was entirely possible that the sunken city was real, it was that Gura had been hunting the city for years now.
“Got some good leads this time! Amphoras from before Troy fell, and some Phoenician scripts-” Gura started, but Bae stopped her.
“Easy there, sharky! I’m still makin’ breakfast.” She said, and could almost feel the way Gura’s face heated.
“Listen. Listen. I’m just glad I didn’t wake you up.” Gura mumbled. And that about summed up Gawr Gura, didn’t it? Lucky accidents and an absolute disregard for… close to anything.
“And your point, fins-for-brains?”
“Hey! Who’re you callin’-! No! No, I will not be sidetracked! Anyways. I was gonna ask if you wanted to come with, or if you wanted me to get you something?” Gura said, obviously having difficulty reigning herself in.
“The ugliest souvenir you can find!” Bae laughed into the phone. Gura’s responding giggle told her all she needed to know.
“Aye aye cap’n! I’ll let you get back to breakfast!” Gura said. And that snapped Bae’s memory back to the here and now. Well, more here than now. Because here , her eggs were more on the… burney side of things.
“My eggs!” Bae screeched, diving to turn off the stove and pull the frying pan out of the fire. She heard Gura laugh this time, and growled at the phone.
“Enjoy breakfast!” was the last thing said before the call cut, and Bae struggled not to throw her phone at the wall. Grumbling and serving herself the blackened omlette, Bae compiled her final list of questions. A few key ones thrown in with various more innocent and genuinely curious ones would… obscure, to some degree, her line of questioning. Which… wouldn’t help much, since she’d basically confessed to being particularly curious about a specific client. Bae silently cursed herself. Tearing out the page, she wrote down all the urgent questions and a few innocent ones she was just genuinely curious about. Then she finished her overcooked breakfast and cold coffee, and got ready for the day.
A few hours time found her sitting in the patio area of Calli’s cafe. It wasn’t actually her cafe, but Calli was the most popular bartender there. And she hosted the alcohol nights on the roof. Fabulous shindigs, if you didn’t mind forgetting a whole night of your life.
“Hakos Baels?” A voice asked, and Bae turned to speaker. Amelia Watson looked remarkably unremarkable. The button up shirt with the overly decorated collar accented with a tweed jacket and a matching brown skirt. Black leggings led to black shoes, though not heels. Elegant, but not overdressed. Bae had to respect that in a woman.
“Baelz with a z.” She said, standing and holding out a hand. “Amelia, I presume.” She said, and then gestured across from herself at the empty chair. “Please, take a seat.”
“Baelz, then.” Amelia sat across from her, her already-ordered drink in hand. “You have some questions for me?”
“I do, I do.” Bae tapped her pen against the open notepad. “First, some icebreakers, what coffee do you drink?”
“I don’t.” Amelia said, sipping loudly from her coffee cup. Bae nodded.
“Perfect. Icebreakers out of the way. What do you know about the mansion in the forest? The one you sold recently. Allegedly.” She asked, throwing a not-very-subtle wink in Calli’s general direction. The tall barista sighed and shook her head.
“Allegedly.” Amelia agreed. “Well, its a large house, for two people. 7 Bedrooms, 8 baths, an underground pool and gym, two large dining rooms, one library, one study, three large living rooms, one of which doubles as a home theater… of sorts.” She said, listing everything off like she were selling the house all over again.
“Large property then?” Bae asked, writing everything down. Amelia made a so-so gesture.
“Big enough to host friends, but like I said. For two people? More than overkill.” She took another sip of her coffee.
“And what kind of person would buy this much overkill, as you put it?” Bae asked, finally getting into the meat of what she wanted to know.
“An eccentric. Perhaps one who seems convinced that its still the 1920’s, and not 2023.” Which was a fascinating implication.
“Welcome to the town of eccentrics, miss Watson. We love it here, but you might not!” Bae said, though Amelia Watson had been in town for longer than herself. Her reward for her eccentricity was a laugh.
“I suppose so! Anyways, I find that anyone who buys that house is asking for trouble.” Amelia said, and that caught Bae’s attention.
“Looking for trouble?” She asked. Amelia nodded.
“That house is centuries old. It was apparently some kind of out post, then a fortress, then a chateaux, then a mansion, and now a derelict wreck. Sorta. Any maid in that house would most certainly have her work cut out for her.” Amelia mumbled, half into her cup.
“How does that translate to trouble, exactly?” The curiosity gnawed at Bae like a beaver on a branch.
“Places like that house have… history. And it ain’t always good.” There was a pause as Amelia took another sip. “I’d argue that it’s almost never good, but good and bad are relative.”
“Well now, isn’t that interesting. Personal experience, miss Watson?” Bae poked.
“Please, its just Ame. Or Watson. None of this ‘miss Watson’ business. It’s bad for my image.” Bae took a moment to process it before laughing.
“Your image is that you have no image!” She said. Ame laughed and set her empty cup back down on the table.
“That much is right!” Ame pulled a pocketwatch for the inner pocket of the tweed jacket and clicked the button on it once. “That, unfortunately, marks as much time as I have today! Be seein’ ya ‘round miss Balez!’
“Please, its Bae, to my friends!” Bae said, standing and shaking Ame’s hand.
“Bae, then!” Ame said, and waved as she left the building. Bae watched her leave, and then wandered back to the bar, looking at all the questions she didn’t get to ask.
“Calli… what am I missing?” Bae asked, only falsely despondent.
“Sure, I’ll have your drink ready for you in just a second!” The overy cheerful and overly false tone was her immediate response. The coffee brewer machine started up, hissing and glugging off to her right when Calli finally answered. “I dunno dude. I dont even know what you’re looking for. But if you’re looking to learn more about it… why not just visit?”
“Visit?” Bae asked.
“Its a place. They’re people. Just… be less… bombastic about it.” Calli said, then turned back to the woman at the counter, “Here you go miss! One white chocolate mocha!” The customer waved her goodbye and then Calli turned back to Bae. “Go say hi and do that charismatic thing you do.”
“Calli, you’re a genius!” Bae said, sitting up straight.
“Duh. Now scram, you’re taking up counter space!” Calli said, before turning to the customers that had just walked in. Bae did as ordered (an already strange occurrence), and plotted her way to the nearest park in her mental map. 1920’s was a look she could do. And she could do very well… for a given definition of 1920’s, Okay, so maybe a crappy Sherlock Holmes cosplay from college wasn’t the most in time-appropriate outfit, but it’d work. Maybe. Probably. All she had to do was get things ready, and then the manor on the hill would have a new visitor.