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Nonlocality (Oneshot)

Summary:

Annie, desperate to save her failing shop, takes a spur-of-the-moment decision, and discusses with the (emotional) consequences with an angelic acquaintance.

Notes:

This fic should've been published back in September but my beta forgot about it and I was in the middle of what can only be described as untenable laziness, but here we are.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Annie had a strict rule: no business outside of working hours.

Rather unfortunately for her, she rarely followed it.

Not by choice, or even by habit, though the latter did pop up many a time when dealing with customers outside of the store. Rather, Annie found herself with the same problem all other small businesses had: namely, that she bore all its responsibilities.

That wasn’t to discount Kira, though. Of course, the girl was a lovely assistant who went above and beyond even if she only received minimum wage. Annie felt bad for taking advantage of someone as sweet as Kira, especially since she knew the young woman since when she was child. Kira, for her part, waved it off. She had told Annie privately that, while she had initially accepted Annie’s job offer in order to earn some money, she had quit most of her part-time jobs because she had much preferred the freedom Longwood General offered. Annie suspected that meeting up regularly with a certain boy played into her reasoning too. After all, Annie was also once a romantic, even if it didn’t end particularly well in her case. Plus, she had first-hand knowledge of how he was quite a, well, charming individual.

Whatever the case, Annie could only be exceptionally grateful. Panties sold reasonably well (for both male and female customers alike, for whatever reason), and the young lady was excellent with a needle. That wasn’t to mention all the other tasks she did that weren’t strictly part of her job description and Annie could only wish that she could express how much she valued more strongly than just a meager paycheck.

It was especially fortunate, too. Her father had used his connections to secure a prime spot in a respectable section of Longwood back when it was his store; though the location was not quite placed in the bustling centers of downtown, it did at the very least have a paved sidewalk with reasonable foot traffic. Much more than could be said for the outskirts of the town, where Annie bought Fresh Milk and other supplies to resell. Its proximity to the Longwood Guild Hall had its perks as well; Annie couldn’t count how many times their guild master had inadvertently saved her business. Unfortunately, this excellent location came with the drawback of high bills and higher rents, which Longwood General could only barely keep pace with.

It was for this reason that Annie found herself sitting on one of her rarely-used barstools. Spread across the short bar was a tall stack of crumpled invoices and remnants of the last consignment. Her seat creaked as she fidgeted with her tallies, pencil in her hand clutched just a little bit too tightly.

Annie rubbed her tired eyes. It wasn’t often she had evenings to herself, what with also working at the restaurant, so although this technically did count towards her ‘free time’ she had to have it reserved for such bookkeeping like this.

She noticed that she was sitting in low light. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights since she got back. The sunlight through her windows had been enough a couple hours ago, but by now the sun was beginning to set. What dwindling light that did make it through bounced off the pink walls, granting a muted but comforting glow. 

Annie hopped off the stool, flicking on the lights before heading to the window blinds. Her gaze drifted outwards to the street below, now devoid of traffic and pedestrians, and beyond that to the great skyscrapers in the distance, and past that the vast ocean.

She shook her head, drawing the curtains closed. Looking to her left, she gazed at the framed print of the Pilgrim’s Path. A gift, actually, from that pleasant Miruku girl. Or rather, the Miruku with the tail. Or rather, tails, plural. The woman had apparently become aware of the shopkeeper’s fondness for such ancient things and made a print from a photograph her party had taken of the region. Annie was no stranger to the Pilgrim’s Path, having paid it a visit a few times after Miruku’s adventuring party rediscovered the ancient site, but the gift was nevertheless rather thoughtful. At the very least, it spruced up the wall quite nicely and tied the room together just a little bit more.

Indeed, her apartment was one of the few things that Annie had genuine feelings of accomplishment for. While she was certainly no interior designer, her apartment was finely arranged, even if it had meant splurging a bit extra on things like furniture, or weird pink car models. Plus, she enjoyed keeping it clean, a habit she wished would rub off onto Jack. It was, after all, much easier to stress over bills in a clean environment. And most importantly, this was her home now. Empty, sure, and far smaller than when she shared a home with her ex-husband and son, but something that Annie could be proud of. 

If only there were more people to share it with. Visitors were rare to come by.

She should probably call her son sometime. Remind him to take care of himself and eat healthy. And that there was a cute lady who visited her store today who would be perfect for him. And-

She caught herself before her brain could wander anymore. Jack was certainly busy doing… something, probably. She wasn’t entirely sure. He insisted that he was happy, but Annie was always a worrying mother.

Oh, listen to her. No one would find such an overbearing motherly attitude to be attractive at all. She’d probably have to change her presentation if she wanted to reenter the dating market.

She sighed before refilling her tea. Normally she’d settle for a nice, large glass of cabernet, but surprisingly, being drunk was ill-productive towards handling finances. It was rare for her to find time to unwind nowadays.

She made her way back to her seat to try to juggle the numbers again. But going over the stacks and stacks of due notices and bills could only beckon more feelings of hopelessness. Margins were exceptionally low, and even negative more frequently than Annie would’ve liked. She couldn’t possibly think of any reason why her gains were so lacking. It wasn’t as if she was handing out 25% flat discounts on the regular, or giving whole-body outfits out for free from a roulette wheel, or handing a present anytime a Haremon browses the store for, she didn’t know, maybe five, ten, twenty minutes? And sees an item on the wall they can’t afford.

Annie sighed. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that her generosity was at odds against keeping her store afloat. But her father had always said to treat loyal customers generously. And, well, Longwood General was her late father’s store, so she tried her best to honor his memory. Plus, her customers did genuinely seem to care about her, and Annie would always strive to repay that kindness hundredfold.

Still, kindness hasn’t exactly been pulling in profit, and Annie was nearly at wit’s end. The prospect of surviving until tomorrow was not a game Annie felt playing, especially when it seemed that every day was a fight for a chance at another. Worrying about whether tomorrow would even come— she wasn’t sure her spirit could take much more of it. At some point, she felt, there would be no more chances. Though she wouldn’t show it to others. After all, her customers always have their own burdens. It would be too bothersome if she burbled on and on.

She should learn a lesson from Kira and just flip the proverbial table, live life how she wanted to. To take initiative, to listen to her heart. The girl was rather wise in these regards. Maybe Annie, too, should simply throw her hands up in the air and give up on the General Store.

And maybe that wouldn’t be the worst decision. She did inherit the shop soon after adulthood, and with no others willing to bear the responsibility she quickly found herself forced as a new business owner. No one else had any direct stake in the store’s success. And between the shop and raising her son, she rarely had time for herself to actually enjoy herself. Sure, the beach was nice and all, but that was only an occasional treat that usually ended up with her losing some of her shop’s stock anyhow.

Though, at this rate, there may not be much choice in the matter. Annie exhaled exhaustion.

So, fraught with worry, Annie just barely noticed her phone ringing. A short conversation later, and she found herself having agreed to paying a visit without hesitation to her most treasured of customers.

Ahh, well , she thought. Those numbers could wait; might as well distract from them.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Annie felt sick to her stomach. How could she do something like this?

The shopkeeper was walking herself back to her apartment. It was, after all, not particularly frugal to pay for a taxi for a relatively short walk.

Though perhaps doing so would be the smart choice, considering the envelope stuffed with cash she had stashed in her purse, nestled in a pocket and hiding alongside it a photograph of her son. She clutched the purse closely to her chest. Any nefarious conspirator would find her an especially obvious target.

The weather was turning cold again, and a strong wind blew through Annie’s body as she clutched her coat closer to herself. The streets were deserted, the sky a pure-black blanket assuaged by the yellow glow of the lampposts blinding out all but the brightest of stars. Only the fierce howling of the wind pounding on her ears. Her footsteps ushered soft clacks against the sidewalk. Ghastly shadows seemed to lurch behind every trashcan and signpost, hiding in wait for when Annie would put her guard down before lunging at her meek frame.

It was at times like this that Annie was thankful that monsters and feral Haremon generally stayed away from Longwood’s borders. Whether it was a result of the policing duties of the Guild or the local government, or those strange men in lab coats and wielding tools of frightening design, or maybe a natural aversion to human settlements, Annie was glad that the streets of Longwood were, generally speaking, very safe. She wasn’t sure if she could handle herself should monsters start roaming the streets at will.

But the expectation of safety did little to abate the fears festering in her heart. She quickened her pace, just a little, her footsteps matching the beating of her heart, pounding against the sidewalk, hair billowing behind her.

And to think it had started so well! Every time he invited her to her apartment it was always so genuine, be it to gift her sweet trinkets or to ask about her interests. Or to undress in front of him, but she was sure there was a perfectly wholesome reason for that!

This time was no exception, having invited Annie over, as he so often did with his other acquaintances, to return a lost item.

The problem, of course, was that this lost item, a rather suspicious stack of bills stuffed hastily into a nondescript envelope, wasn’t hers.

He had seemed rather surprised, too. For a person who usually responded to situations with a mix of good-naturedness and poor jokes, he did seem rather bewildered at Annie’s abrupt declaration of the cash’s ownership. She tried coming up with some vague excuses in response to his prying, which given his lack of further pressing hopefully worked.

She had no idea why he had thought the item belonged to her. He seemingly had a good enough understanding of who lost what, or at least, enough that Scarlett hasn’t berated him extensively like she would any incompetent guild members (of which, if the guild master’s secret praises were to be believed, he certainly was not). The envelope had no indications of, well, anything, but did have an aura of sinister intention. And Annie was the furthest thing from participating in nefarious dealings, she made sure of it! At least, if you discounted working with that ominous corporation downtown. But she was otherwise spotless! Not a single crime in her body!

And yet she could no longer hold her head up proudly after tonight. Never before had she ever stolen anything. Even whenever customers teleported in items they couldn’t fit in their bags, she would make sure that they were fairly compensated.

But this? This was her outright taking money that wasn’t hers.

And now, hurrying her way across street crossings, Annie could only curse how foolish her snap decision was.

He was, at heart, a kind person. Kind to his companions, and generous with his tipping, and surprisingly kind to even faceless NPCs. And she lied to him.

Guilt.

Annie stopped.

She was heaving, though she couldn’t succinctly explain why. Annie rested her arm against the nearest lamppost, leaning on it to try to calm her adrenaline, its light beaming down on her. Her offhand clutched her chest tightly. Around her she could only hear silence; not the distant rumbling of vehicles, nor the faint hum of crickets. The wind had died down, leaving only her and her thoughts. Legs shaking, she almost wanted to throw up, but managed to hold it down.

Panting, Annie tried to collect herself. It wasn’t like her to be so dramatic and unabashed with her emotions. Fighting her instincts, she slowed her breathing and her body soon calmed.

She couldn’t help but worry. Things will be alright, right? Curious as he was, he wasn’t the type of person to pry. And, well, for her to have stumbled into a large sum of cash right as her store was about to crumble, that certainly had to be a gift from above. Surely this fortune couldn’t have been by accident. Or maybe he knew that she was struggling and tried to disguise his generosity! Indeed, what a kind fellow he was.

Annie shook her head. Deep in her heart, she knew all of that wasn’t true. Impulsive as it was, it was her choice. And it would be her who would have to bear its burden.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Longwood General always had an air of gallantry to it. The store stood out rather humbly against the backdrop of the city, with a warm and inviting atmosphere spilling out from its large windows, its wooden frame standing out modestly against the tall apartments and churches and storefronts of more extravagant presentation.

Though its stockage was rather unusual, Longwood General indeed had a reliable base of customers. Absurdly so, too; seriously, what kind of mom-and-pop (or rather, only-mom) store would sell dynamite, children’s toys, and piping-hot coffee in the same location? Normally, only the weirdest of customers would find any appeal to visit regularly. But towards whatever niche Annie’s unusual business-sense seemed to direct the inventory, the cramped store at least had a reasonable count of reliable customers. The Guild was the largest purchaser, of course. Scarlett’s continued patronage was invaluable, and the neighborhood children seemed to be naturally drawn to the general store, be it due to Annie’s gentle and caring personality or her generous discounts on sweets. Annie never really could turn down such cute little faces.

This early morning was a particularly quiet one, something that Annie occasionally appreciated due to her lack of personal time, though given the events of last night she wasn’t sure if she should feel remorse instead. Those memories were still fresh, and she desperately wished for someone to converse with to get her mind off of things.

She leaned into the counter, idly tapping her pen against it. Outside, the leaves were beginning to fall. Autumn seemed to be arriving late this year; most trees had yet to change their colors, and the temperatures outside were still warm enough that Annie felt comfortable leaving the windows open, the gentle breeze wafting through the store and bringing the scents of the city, from the faint whispers of gasoline to the hearty breath of the nearby bakery. The golden sunlight radiated through the windows, showering the shelves with an orange glow. It was still early in the morning, so the typical hustle of the city had yet to intrude on Annie’s small paradise.

Annie yawned before taking a deep sip from her thermos. The tea cascaded down her throat, cradling her body with a warm pick-me-up.

Rolling her shoulders, Annie ducked underneath her counter. Her eyes briefly met the photo of her father, placed there to remind her how important the store was to her, before pulling out the small pocketbook tucked right beneath the countertop. It was a rather plain list of business-related chores. Extensive, yes, but thanks to Kira (that girl was certainly a godsend), the list found itself rather cleaned out.

Humming to herself, she stepped behind to the small storeroom, before stacking a bunch of wares onto a small trolley. It was getting rather cramped back there; sometimes Annie questioned her agreement to store overstocked items (how in the world was she going to offload dozens of individual dandelions?) but it was her job to support her customers, even if she had to buy the strangest items. Though, Annie too must admit, it was rare for general stores to buy any item from their customers, no matter how obscure or mundane, as if it were a pawnshop. So, perhaps ‘job’ might not have been the best word of choice.

Regardless, a few long minutes later her cart was piled high, and she slowly tugged the trolley out to the rows of shelves.

Annie’s exceptional organizational skills had two benefits. The first was obvious: any customers who wanted an item could find it exceptionally easily, as if browsing a menu of sorts, they could easily pile whatever they needed into their basket before checking out. It was an efficient system, which meant that any customers who needed a quick stop before heading out could easily just grab what they needed and be on their way; and those who had a bit more time had plenty to chat with Annie about the happenings of the town or gossips of its residents, though regarding the latter Annie tended to stay away from the more unsavory types of Longwood’s more unique characters.

The second was that it meant that restocking was very efficient. When the occasional customer would come in and purchase twenty-five chocolate milks in a single batch, it was rather important for Annie to be able to make sure the shelves were full. Though it was infrequent for the store to become so crowded that the store became desolate of wares, Annie’s father had insisted on an emphatic presentation being proper for any self-respecting general store. Annie herself had to agree, if for the personal reason of making herself feel comfortable in the otherwise austere décor.

Pulling a few cookbooks off her cart, Annie moved towards the small magazine rack right next to the store’s doors. Picking up the latest copy of some magazine regarding the excellent culinary value of white bread, she faced the rack before realizing the magazines were already there.

Of course , she thought to herself. Magazines, unlike drinks or medicines, were rarely purchased more than once. She pulled the trolley towards the small fridges, before again realizing that the rows of milk bottles and potions, too, were lined up orderly.

It was only now that Annie remembered she had restocked just before closing up shop last night. She shook her head. It wasn’t like her to be this forgetful.

She sighed, before pushing the trolley against a wall behind the counter. Might as well keep the items around for when customers eventually show up. Even if today thus far has been quiet.

Annie returned behind the counter, doing her best to remain attentive. No matter how bored or tired she got, it was necessary for any shopkeeper to remain attentive.

Whether you’d call her responsible, meticulous, or obsessive, Annie kept herself busy with thinking. Her latest shipment from the ranch outside should be coming soon; she should prepare space for all the bottles of Fresh Milk that the local hospices always seemed to need, especially with the rising frequency of monster attacks. And she should also prepare a present for that sweet farm girl who shows up every once in a while; Delilah always did remind her of her own son– despite the girl’s sweet demeanor Annie could tell that Delilah, too, had a sense of aimlessness in her life. Delilah not wanting to be tied down to the life she was born into would be very disappointing for her, and Annie always encouraged the young girl to– 

Ahh, darn, she let her mind wander again. She had to focus on her shop, even if nobody was entering. It was just a bit difficult though. It always seemed like something was going on, and Annie always felt the responsibility to help out when she could. And being idle only stimulated her idle thoughts to cultivate.

Normally at times like this Annie would have gone scavenging. In fact, she did so almost every day. But the chances of running into him would be too high, and even if he did forget the conversation last night, that was too large a risk to take. Not on him finding out about her little lie, mind you, but whether Annie could keep herself composed enough to not break down in regret in front of him and his friends and draw suspicion.

Nevertheless, adventuring was a nice break from the everyday monotony. Seeing the wilderness, the ruins, and the occasional adventurer was a rather nice contrast from staying in the shop all day. Perhaps in another universe she would have found herself on a different path, but in this one the shop took priority.

A chime from the bell startled Annie from her stupor. She snapped to attention, straightening her back and putting on a genuine smile.

“Welcome~.”

In came a tall, buxom woman of unparalleled beauty. Each step of hers imbued an almost otherworldly grace, almost as if she was floating rather than walking. Her silver hair, glinting as if painted by the goddesses, gently rustled as the breeze from the open door rushed into the general store. She moved with deliberate yet effortless poise towards the shopkeeper, her large wings and elegant bow nimbly avoiding knocking over display cases and shelves.

“Greetings, esteemed friend,” Serrah’s voice rang like bells in the evening.

Annie was always admirative of the seraph, even before she knew the angel was, well, an angel. While she was a bit hesitant at first due to Serrah’s, erm, fashion-forward appearance, her charitable work as the custodian for the chapel down the street did earn Annie’s respect. And that was before she had revealed her true person (much to Annie’s surprise; she never caught on what in retrospect was quite obvious) and started servicing the town by fighting monsters alongside the rest of her newfound Haremon companions.

“Serrah!” Annie said, smiling. “I have your usual order right here.”

She pulled out a prearranged bag full of exfoliants, cleansers, foot scrubs, and all other sorts of wellness supplies.

“Thank you very much, my dear. Though I doubt I will have much time to relax now that I have identified that vile harlot, I must appreciate your efforts towards my repose.”

“Erm. Yes.”

“I mean it sincerely,” Serrah said, warmly. “For you to have put aside such time away for me, a humble customer, despite your certain workload. In fact, I rarely even see you at the chapel anymore.”

“Oh, about that,” Annie replied. “Apparently I’m supposed to be a Catholic.”

“Really? Was that Word of God?”

“Oh, do you mean Titania? Or Yahweh?”

“Something like that. It doesn’t matter since it’s likely not canon,” Serrah said, as if knowing something others wouldn’t. “Titania cares not for who you believe in if you maintain her message of love and sensuality, so long as you do not associate with that hellspawn Lilith. And that it complies with Steam Community Guidelines, of course.”

Annie shook her head before facing Serrah once more. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I am definitely fine.”

Serrah tilted her head. “Something seems to be bothering you, though.”

“Oh no, dear. I’m doing quite alright,” Annie said, waving her hands. “It’s just the same old running the shop. Nothing new happening in my tired old life.”

“Hmmm?” Serrah pondered out loud. “Usually when someone says something like this, it means they have some sins to confess. At least, it would seem like it from my millennia of experience as a priestess.”

Annie shook in surprise.

“Yet,” Serrah continued, shrugging, “You have never once struck me as the dishonest type, so perhaps it is I who should adjust her perception of the world.”

“Ahh, well, yes. I’m pleased to know you think that of me,” Annie stuttered. She heaved a sigh of relief. “I swear I’m doing fine, dear.”

“My friend, I have visited your humble store for many months, and yet this is the stiffest I’ve seen your shoulders. Pray let me hear your burdens.”

“I appreciate your concern, Serrah,” Annie said. “But I’m telling the truth, I swear. I’ve just been managing the shop as usual.”

Serrah paused to think for a moment. “That may be true, but perhaps that may be the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“We all have routines, and we gain great comfort from them. But people of all walks of life also seek experience. We are naturally curious and grow bored without excitement.” Serrah looked down at her bag of spa supplies. “Perhaps you should close up shop for a week or so. When was the last time you took a vacation?”

Annie shuffled her feet. “I… don’t remember, actually.”

Serrah gave Annie a pointed look.

“Oh heavens,” Annie replied, insistently. “I am barely in a position to take any time off. I’m hardly making ends meet as is, and I don’t think the store could handle my absence, even for a short while.”

“But is it not better to take a break and return at full strength, rather than waste away persisting in mediocrity? Not to imply that you are middling, of course, but I believe your talent and effort far exceed, well, this.”

Annie sighed. Serrah’s simultaneous praise and criticism was not something Annie was especially used to. “I don’t know dear. It’s just that, just that people rely on me,” Annie said, gesturing to Serrah’s bag. “Adventurers come in daily to buy supplies. Parents buy groceries. And people like you visit frequently enough that I know you’ll be disappointed if the shop closes even just for a day.”

"I can assure you that I would be perfectly content even if I discovered your store was closed for a few days."

“I wouldn’t,” Annie replied quietly, though loud enough for the seraph to hear her.

“Hmmm?”

“Eep! I mean, I couldn’t bear to see others have difficulties in their lives. It’s just who I am, I guess.”

“Who you are? My, what an interesting take. Someone who lives for others, perhaps?”

“I guess?”

“Tell me,” Serrah asked. “When was the last time you did something truly just for yourself?”

“Well… the other evening I relaxed on the beach. Even met up with that new punkish girl with the hair that, umm, puts me a bit on edge. Traded them a few sand dollars, too! Strange that she’d want a duplicate of the swimsuit she was already wearing, but the lovebirds seemed pleased with their exchange.”

“… I suppose that counts. What else?”

“Ah! The grocery store I frequent had a really good deal on purple potatoes last weekend. I got a bit excessive and couldn’t take all of them home, so I stopped by the soup kitchen and helped make them into a really nice chowder. The workers I met there were really kind and helpful!”

“Mmmhmm.”

“And I just remembered. I had a really nice chat with Jack—my son—the other night.”

Serrah raised an eyebrow. “Did you, now?”

“Yep! It wasn’t much, just a few reminders to do chores, catching up on a few things. And how much I love him, of course.”

“… I see. Being a mother must certainly be a wonderful experience.”

Annie nodded in agreement. “It’s not for everyone, I know. And there are times when I hope he’d try harder for himself. I know he’s in a rough spot right now, and I do wish he’d stop playing those video games with those strange two-dimensional women in them, but he’s the most important person in my life. I just wish it was a bit easier for him to know that.”

Serrah stood there, pondering. Long enough for Annie to wonder whether she said anything strange, until Serrah smiled. “He is very lucky to have you indeed,” the seraph said.

“I appreciate it! And I’m lucky to have him.”

“But returning to the topic at hand. I do not find it coincidental that all your examples of self-fulfillment involve the betterment of others.”

“Oh! I, well, I suppose you are correct, dear,” Annie blushed. “I’m really not good at this, aren’t I?”

“I cannot disagree there. It is hardly a bad thing to be selfless, but it is malignant when it suppresses one’s ability to help others.”

Annie took a deep breath. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be a shopkeeper,” she sighed, defeated.

“Perhaps you are not,” Serrah nodded in agreement.

For the briefest of moments Annie’s adrenaline spiked in shock after hearing Serrah’s comment, but that quickly transposed to dismay. Serrah was right. About twenty years of working in this store, and yet she still found herself floundering about. What was she even doing? Had she really gone so far as to bury herself so deep into habit, building a cage around a life that would forever remain stagnant, shooing away any ‘dreams’ or ‘aspirations’ in order to maintain the sanctity of ritual. For all the times she had chided her son for wasting away, yet could she not see the same prosaicness in her own actions. She was about to speak of her resignation before a gentle, warm hand rested itself on her shoulder.

Annie looked up.

“However, we rarely get to choose our own obligations or duties. At times, we must take on what we find distasteful, or even abhorrent. And we make excuses to delay what can only be inevitable,” Serrah said, warm with understanding and reassurance.

She paused. For a second, Annie could see the flash of disquiet in Serrah’s unfocused eyes, the seraph twinging her bowstring irregularly, as if in trepidation.. But the seraph quickly regained her usual aura of composure before turning her attention towards the shopkeeper.

“Perhaps a clever mind can reconcile excuse and duty to create a more elegant solution. Or perhaps it may be impossible to do so. But, in my many years, I do know one thing with utmost confidence. To be able to so constantly strain oneself for the sake of others—you should be proud of yourself. There is great valor in your resolve.”

Serrah glanced at the large clock hung behind the counter. “I really must get going. For all the enjoyment of our conversation, I must attend to the chapel. And perhaps to myself, too, should I have the time.” Serrah smiled, before bowing her head. “I must say my thanks; you’ve given me quite a bit to ponder over. Thus, please consider myself the first of many successes of today’s endeavors, my dearest shopkeeper.”

Annie, stunned, could only offer a modest bow in response. The seraph didn’t seem to notice anything strange about her, or at least pretended not to. As she headed to the doorway, Serrah offered a final wave goodbye before her large frame disappeared into the street beyond.

Once Serrah left her line of sight, Annie groaned audibly. She wasn’t sure if she could handle another conversation like that one, and it was still early in the morning. The seraph was just too confusing at times, especially with her backhanded compliments. But Annie supposed that was the type of person Serrah was, and she certainly didn’t seem to be a bully. Still though, she could really use a breather.

Annie pulled a Bottled Water from inside behind her counter, her eyes briefly meeting the stashed photograph of her father, her mind again briefly lingering on her most recent conversation. Not sure what to make of it, she tried to re-center her mind once again on her store. It was, after all, still the beginning of the day, and there was much to do. The city’s frenetic pace was picking up, as the sounds of cars and trucks began filling the ambience, as was the chatter of pedestrians. The sun, having risen up from the horizon, was now illuminating the store with a bright light, mingling with the colors of the store’s wares into a vibrant tapestry of hues.

The bells on the door rang. Another customer walked in.

“Welcome!” Annie said, a bit more cheerfully than before.

Notes:

Given that these oneshots have been matching the Haremcord mods’ favorites, this probably means that Daisy will star in the next one. Unfortunate, since her personality is rather uninteresting, for me at least.

What I love about Haremon is all the small details that are mentioned but never expanded on. Like tiny lore bits that make, at least my weirdo mind, go “hey that’s fucking weird”. In this case, it was the envelope stuffed with cash lost item, which is a strange thing for Annie to take. This leads me to do some thinking (why did she take the envelope) and a story formulates around that, mainly on why characters act the way they did (she is desperate for money; though that is hardly my only theory, but certainly the most forgiving). Other weird small details I like including too, like how she has a picture of the Pilgrim’s Path for some reason, or an out of place pink model car on her shelf.

I also think Serrah and Annie have the same niche in a way. Not in the MILF niche (though that’s true, fight me) but in their characterizations. Both are shown to be driven by senses of duty: Serrah her loyalty to Titania and Annie to honor her father. And both are sort of stuck in a rut because of it. It’s an interesting parallel.

This story’s a bit weird since it actually places events in a certain point in time. Luckily, storywise this is about the part where Fuckboy unlocks the casino, where he starts savescumming cleverly betting and earning millions, which he then gives to Annie via tips. I usually don’t like timeline-dating since aside from my typical rules (assume a 100% save, and in the case of Zero Point, certain ending choices) I’d prefer to keep it open for any reader, though I can probably just title some chapter “Superposition” and it’ll all work out. Speaking of, that story is now revised and readable, and will probably be my primary Haremon-related focus going forward.

Seriously, what's up with that car?

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