Cinnamon Bun

Chapter 278: Three – Knight of the Feather Duster


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Stray Cat Strut (A cyberpunk system apocalypse!) - Ongoing

Fluff (A superheroic LitRPG about cute girls doing cute things!) - Ongoing

Love Crafted (Interactive story about an eldritch abomination tentacle-ing things!) - Completed

Dreamer's Ten-Tea-Cle Café (An insane Crossover about cute people and tentacles) - Ongoing

Cinnamon Bun (A wholesome LitRPG!) - Ongoing

The Agartha Loop (A Magical-Girl drama!) - Hiatus

Lever Action (A fantasy western with mecha!) - Volume One Complete!

Heart of Dorkness (A wholesome progression fantasy) - Ongoing

Dead Tired (A comedy about a Lich in a Wuxia world doing Science!) - Hiatus

Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Three - Knight of the Feather Duster

“After you, ma’am,” I said as I opened the door before my friends.

Awen curtsied, as she had done at every other door I opened for her, and Amaryllis rolled her eyes, also as she had been doing all morning.

After leaving Caprica at the entrance of the library the day before, I had started practicing my chivalry. That meant opening doors for ladies, and helping them sit down, and also fighting monsters. So far I was two for three in the chivalry department, and I was sure we’d have to fight some sort of monster eventually.

“You know this isn’t going to work,” Amaryllis said.

“It probably won’t work,” I said. “Which doesn’t mean it will never work, just that it’s somewhat unlikely to work. Unlikely isn’t impossible... ma’am.”

Amaryllis huffed a mighty huff. “Stop calling me ma’am.”

“I think it’s cute,” Awen said. “Broccoli’s not doing anything mean.”

“Opening doors and being courteous isn’t mean, no, but it’s annoying when it’s coming from Broccoli,” Amaryllis said. “Besides, I can open my own doors, thank-you-very-much.”

“I would never imply that you can’t, ma’am,” I replied.

Awen giggled while Amaryllis fumed quietly.

I started practicing chivalry the night before, and so far I hadn’t gotten a skill for it. But I did get a lot of innocent fun teasing Amaryllis by being too nice to her, so that was a plus. I figured I could keep it up for a little bit. Being chivalrous was basically being nice with extra steps, and that sounded just peachy to me.

“Are you going to open the door to the guild too?” Amaryllis asked some time later as we arrived at the front of the Goldenalden Exploration Guild. The place still looked as rough as it had the day before.

“I certainly will, my lady,” I said before bowing at the waist to Amaryllis.

She crossed her arms and pouted while Awen laughed next to her. “You don’t know how to bow,” Awen said.

“I don’t?” I asked.

She shook her head, then smiled as I opened the door for her. “I’ll show you later.”

“Please don’t,” Amaryllis said.

“Ah, hello!”

Reginald was standing in the lobby, along with a sylph that I didn’t recognize but who was obviously some sort of journalist. He had a small cap on, with a feather sticking out of it, and he had a notepad tucked into one of the pockets of his ink-stained coat. A bag sat by his feet, big and lumpy, with the flash-bulb of a camera sticking out of the top of it. The journalist nodded. “Hello,” he said.

“Hello Reginald,” Amaryllis said. “And hello Mister...”

“Yanick, I work for World Watcher Weekly,” the journalist said.

We had a quick round of handshaking and introductions, Reginald standing to the side and smiling the entire time. “Yanick here will be running a small article on your journey all the way here. I was hoping that one of you could sit with him and recount the tale?”

“Ah, it can’t be me,” I said. “I promised I’d do some gardening and clean the place up, remember?”

“Yes, of course,” Reginald said.

“Awen and I should be able to retell the story without issue,” Amaryllis said. “Should we do that here, or is there a more comfortable place to have this kind of discussion?”

“There’s a lounge room upstairs,” Reginald said. “I’ll guide you there in a moment. Captain Bunch, you’ll find all the tools you need in the shed out back.” He searched his pockets for a moment before handing me a keyring. And then, before I knew it, my friends were ushered up the stairs and I was left in the guild’s lobby with a keyring in hand.

“Uh, okay,” I said to the empty room.

Shrugging, I started to wander around. It didn’t take long to find a broom closet under the stairs. I had Cleaning magic, of course, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to swish a duster around as I worked.

And I couldn't swish-swish a duster around if I didn’t have a duster to swish-swish.

I started with the lobby, humming to myself even as I pushed Cleaning magic into the duster I wielded and into the air around me as an aura. That meant that the more time I spent around a corner, the more my magic ate away at the dust and grime and cob-webs. Swishing the duster against the glass display cases and spider-webs only made it faster.

Of course, I made sure that there weren’t any poor spiders on the webs I was cleaning away, and when I did find one, I’d carefully coax it onto my hand, then go outside where I placed the nice spider on the bit of grass next to the guild.

Once the lobby was sparkly and clean and smelled fresh, I moved through the guild, mostly keeping to the corridors until I found an exit to the back.

The yard there was rough, with the grass having gotten too tall and filled with weeds.

The shed at the very back was a bit run down, but still serviceable, though there was a small bee’s nest clumped onto one side of it.

I made sure not to disturb any of them as I fetched a few tools. There was a reel mower, stuck in the back, and some trowels and rakes and other tools. Most of them had a patina of rust, but a quick inspection and I figured they were perfectly usable, if in need of a bit of maintenance.

So I tugged out the tools I needed and got to work. The reel mower chewed through the grass with a whirl, especially after I pumped some magic into it to make it run smoother, and then, once the small lawn was all trimmed up, I started to dig out the weeds one by one.

I was actually having quite a bit of fun! Gardening was a nice, quiet way to spend some time. I wished I had a friend to share the quiet with, but being alone for a little bit wasn’t so bad.

I moved around to the front and started to tend to the plants around the guild’s entrance.

It was quiet out. People were at work, and those who weren’t were usually older sylph moving past in a hurry, clearly quite busy, or younger sylph that looked like they were scouring the city, looking for some fun trouble to get up to. I had a few gawkers; I guess a bun doing gardening work in an armoured dress wasn’t all that common a sight in Goldenalden. No one interrupted though, except for some kids that ran off laughing when I made silly faces and wiggled my ears at them.

The flowers at the front of the guild were in dire need of some love. They were still strong, with good roots holding them in place, but they were being choked out by some meddling weeds.

I tugged the weeds out and set them to the side. They could be mulched up later and used as fertilizer, maybe.

Gardening - D-34%

Not bad!

Once the flowers were given a bit of space and some water, they had a better chance of growing big and strong. I cleaned up the flower boxes, then got to cleaning the front of the guild. It was tricky to get to the higher parts. I could only jump so high, after all, and flinging Cleanballs at the windows and facade was only so effective at taking off the grime and dirt caked onto the bricks.

I was just trying to figure out a way to get to the very top of the building--maybe I could hang off the edge?--when the front door opened and Awen stuck her head out. “Oh, there you are,” she said.

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“Heya,” I said. “Is everything going well?”

She nodded. ‘Yes, for the most part. The journalist is done with the interview, I think. He wants to take a picture, and we want you to be there.”

“Oh, sure,” I said. I patted down my knees, a bit of Cleaning magic taking care of any dirt stuck to me and washing out the grime under my fingertips. “I’m ready!”

“Great,” Awen said. “We’re waiting upstairs, in the lounge.”

“We’re going to take a picture there?” I asked.

“I guess,” Awen said. “Come on?”

I nodded and followed after her. It was nice seeing the lobby without any dust in it, the few loose items reorganized, and the room smelling much more fresh than it had before. There was just something very satisfying about a room that was entirely clean.

“It looks nice,” Awen said. “Did you do everything?”

“No, just the lobby, and a few of the little open spaces around. Mostly I spent my time outside. I didn’t get Reginald’s permission to do all the other little rooms. Though I did blast a bunch of Cleaning magic into the washrooms, so those should be clean too.”

“I think he’ll be happy,” Awen said with a nod.

I hoped so too! And maybe it would help the guild get a few more members if they saw that it was nice and neat inside and out.

We climbed up to the second floor, then moved over to the lounge where I darted ahead of Awen and opened the door for her. “M’lady,” I said.

Awen laughed. “That’s awful. But thanks.”

Reginald looked like he was in a much better mood, with a big grin on and enough energy pouring off of him that he couldn’t stay still. The journalist, meanwhile, just looked confused. He was staring at his notepad, as if not quite believing what was written there.

Amaryllis was seated, all prim and proper, on the biggest lounge chair in the room. One leg carefully crossed over the other and an aura of smugness so strong it was almost physical wafting off of her.

“Uh oh,” I said.

“It’s not... that bad?” Awen said, likely guessing at some of what I was thinking.

I cleared my throat. “Ah, I’m here,” I said.

“Oh! Wonderful!” Reginald said. “We just wanted a photo, for the newspaper. I’m certain the article will be that much more impressive with an image to go with it.”

“Sure,” I said.

The journalist set aside his notebook and started to fiddle with his camera, something that seemed to require a lot of his attention. Meanwhile, Reginald got the three of us to stand closer together. I got to be in the middle, because I was the tallest, with Amaryllis to my right and Awen to my left.

“I kind of regret not bringing my captain’s hat,” I said.

“It would be a bit ostentatious,” Amaryllis said. “Best to look somewhat humble, as a contrast to the story itself.”

“That sounds surprisingly worrying, coming from you,” I said.

Amaryllis grinned. “Now now, I said nothing but the truth.”

“She didn’t lie,” Awen conceded. “But, ah, I think Amaryllis said the truth in an interesting way?”

“That sounds like something she would do,” I said.

“I’m literally standing right next to you,” Amaryllis said.

I grinned at her. “I know. I can feel you. Your feathers are nice and soft today. Have you been doing something special with them?”

She gave me an unamused look. “You’re a moron. Also, no, but the temperature here is more agreeable than I expected. Feathers tend to be somewhat more temperamental than hair or fur, I think. At least when it comes to things like humidity and pressure.”

That was interesting. “Neat.”

“Ah, yes, could everyone squeeze in a little closer?” the journalist asked. “Mister Reginald, yourself as well.”

Reginald stepped to the side so that he was next to Awen. Close, but not so close that he was actually touching her. “Like so?” he asked.

The journalist nodded. “That’s great. Is this anyone’s first photograph?”

Amaryllis was the only one to nod. She blinked then looked at me. “You’ve been in photos?”

“Plenty?” I said.

“Oh. Well, I haven’t.”

“Just blink a lot after the flash,” I said.

“Alright everyone,” the journalist said. “Look into the lens here, that’s right.”

“And say cheeeese!” I said as the pan exploded with a bright burst of light.

***

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