Disclaimer: Soul Nomad and the World Eaters is the property of Nippon Ichi Software. Rating is for offensive language, mild violence and suggestive themes.

AN: I'm adding a special note to my SN stories to apologize for the use of some slurs in Gig's dialogue (possibly elsewhere in the stories, but that's where I remember them occurring). I'm going to let the text stand for the record, but I should've avoided them when I originally wrote the stories, and I'm very sorry for using them.

The Hotpod Melee

1

Revya stepped in front of the floor-length mirror and took a long, hard look at herself.

Vitali came to her shoulder. "Did I mention that I appreciate this?" He bustled past, heading for the door that led into the kitchens.

"Last time I was here," Revya said before he could escape, "I don't think there were any uniforms." Carefully, she revolved, taking in the rear view, then the front again. A snowy lace collar was tied just under her chin, dropping down onto a snug, bright red bodice. Under a frilly apron, the dress' skirt flared at the waist to a near ninety degree angle, only an inch of frothy underskirt hiding her rear. The lacy tops of her stockings left two inches of thigh bare. And her shoes were eight inch platform heels.

"I swear, it was the waitresses' idea," Vitali insisted, tying on his own frilly apron. "They wanted to feel like a team. And, not to be vulgar, it hasn't hurt business."

"Maybe it's all right for some people." She used her palms to press the skirt down; it rustled and didn't yield much; when she raised her hands, the skirt sprang back up. "But I'm not really a...I'm the sort of girl who picks up a sword and...you know...breaks things."

"You look lovely," Vitali said absently, hand already at the door that led to the restaurant's vast kitchens. "Now get your cap on and work section C. That was Annalee's assignment."

Annalee, Revya thought as she found the flat, lacy mobcap, tying the ribbon under her chin. She'd never even met the girl, but she resented her plenty. Revya had just come to Astec to visit Vitali, see if she could talk him into lifting the (third) lifetime ban he'd placed on her, Gig and Danette. He'd been in his restaurant, the now-famous Tranquillity Grotto. He'd been scrambling, trying to replace one of his waitresses who'd quit that morning to elope with one of the customers.

Gig was right, Revya decided as she headed for the door, her heels clunking. She was way too nice.

"You hold the tray like this, see?" Brytta, the head waitress (dressed in a green getup) explained. "That counterbalances the dishes nicely - no, a bit higher on the shoulder. Don't let your hair trail in. Maybe you should put it in pigtails or something... Right. And remember, the tables are numbered from left to right in each section except by the fountain-slash-koi pond where you go up and down in files. Good?" Before Revya could say anything, Brytta clapped her hands, brown curls bouncing. "Get to it!"

Revya got to it, walking as fast as she could in her heels, ankles wobbling. Three times in the first hour, she accidentally crashed the flare of her skirt into a customer's face, she nearly toppled back into the decorative fountain in the restaurant's center, she banged her forehead once against the hanging blueblaze bloom, and she gave the wrong trays to the wrong customers four times. Brytta must have been reporting back because Vitali gave her hard looks when she passed him in the kitchen, and once she caught him gnawing his braid in frustration, but when she tried to apologize, he waved her on with a smile.

During their brief lunch break, Brytta hoisted Revya's hair into pig tails (it still smelled vaguely of the chamomile-apricot tea she'd accidentally dipped it in that morning). Glancing at herself again in the mirror, Revya thought chances were good that she was past recognition.

Business slackened off in the midafternoon, leaving Vitali and his harem of froufy waitresses tidying up before the evening rush. Vitali changed the menus in the large front window and set out the fake entrées. Angeleva, in yellow, worked the plants with the watering-can. Tori, in blue, replaced the tablecloths. Brytta and Revya blazed through the place-settings, then spent the remainder of the afternoon in Training Revya How to Walk in Heels While Balancing a Tray and Avoiding the Lewd Stares of the Clientele Without Falling Over, lecture number two.

Then, the dinner rush.

Finally, at about two in the morning, Tranquillity Grotto was silent again, the employees listlessly straightening up. Revya stepped into the back alley to dump all the wilted flower centerpieces. When she came in, Vitali was ticking off today's books, adding up the profits.

"Hey." She put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about all the goof-ups today."

He glanced up, blinking abstractedly. "What - oh, no, it's not a problem." He dipped his quill into an inkwell and crossed a t. "Most waitresses have it rough the first day. Tomorrow will be better."

"Oh." She glanced at her left hand, which she'd inadvertently dunked in a customer's bouillabaisse. "Okay. You just seemed kind of upset with me."

Vitali wrote on for a moment, as if he hadn't really heard her, then paused and frowned. "What? No, no, of course not."

Vitali's waitresses bunked together in a flat above the store. For convenience's sake, Revya had inherited Annalee's space for the time being. She sat on her small bed, relieved to be in comfy (if borrowed) pjs, massaging the balls of her feet.

"So how long are you going to be here?" Tori asked, braiding her long black hair.

"Until Vitali hires a replacement, I guess." Revya sighed. This morning, she'd expected to just drop in on Vitali, then head back home. Instead, she'd been drafted, having to send a quick note back to the Village. "We're old friends, I can't just leave him hanging." Well, actually, yes, she could've. Vitali probably wouldn't have even blamed her, but...

"Don't worry," Angeleva said, already snuggled between her covers, "you'll love it here."

Day four found Revya practically trotting through section C. She'd found that if she kept her feet moving in a perfect rhythm, the pain tended to numb itself and she could carry her tray quite steadily. "More crinkleberry wine, please!" Thunk, thunk, thunk. "Can I get more salty rolls?" Thunk, thunk, thunk. "Get your ass over here, I've been waiting for my pasta for five minutes!" Thunk, thunk, (mutter), thunk.

"Thanks, girls," Vitali said, hanging his apron on its hook that night. "We're doing well." He looked down at the stack of evening mail, a concerned frown rumpling his forehead.

Several hours later, Brytta sat up in bed. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Revya turned over her pillow for the third time, setting her cheek against its relative coolness. "Huh?"

"You're thrashing around like a fish out of water. Something up?"

Revya shrugged, not really wanting to admit to it. However, Brytta didn't take the hint, still staring at her. Revya sighed. "Homesick, I guess."

The head waitress tilted her head sympathetically. "First time away from home, huh?"

"No. Actually - not at all." Revya threw one of her blankets off. "Just missing everyone back at home. Especially the husband."

"Hm." Brytta chewed her pinkie nail. "It's not good to be needy."

Revya rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't think I'm needy." She wasn't. She and her other half were often apart from each other, traveling around Prodesto on various errands or visits. There were times when they were downright thrilled to be apart. She'd even spent two months away from him earlier that year, traveling with Grunzford. But nevertheless, she was missing him, and Danette, and the Village, and everything that made her feel all right with the world.

"How long you been married?"

Revya glanced over; she'd almost forgotten about Brytta. "Since last summer."

Brytta shrugged and settled back down. "Six months, huh? Well, at least you're out of the honeymoon phase."

After hearing that, Revya eventually drifted off to sleep.

But too soon, it was morning, and Vitali was calmly letting off a stick of dynamite in the kitchen.

"You're leaving?" Brytta goggled at Vitali, then glanced at the other three waitresses. "I haven't seen you take a vacation once, not in five years."

Vitali gave a small smile. "I'm afraid so. Nothing permanent, of course. I just find I - that is-" He tapped his chin, glanced at his pile of mail, obviously stalling until he could make himself articulate. "Someone has need of me for the next three weeks." Ignoring his waitress' skeptical looks, he turned, heading for the back door. "My cousin Curio should be here shortly. He oversees a chain of taverns in Orviska, so you should find him more than capable."

And with that, he was gone.

And halfway through the lunch flurry, a man with long blue hair stepped in, his red duster trailing to the ground. He caught Revya by the arm as she passed, nearly capsizing her. "Hello! Curio of Orviska, at your service! Where might I find the head waitress?" Revya used a soup spoon to indicate Brytta, then hurried on.

Revya didn't see Curio again until one-thirty in the morning, when the last customer teetered out and Tori twisted the key in the front door. Then they heard a loud applause, and Curio stood in the kitchen doorway, clapping his hands a few more times for emphasis. "Do I have everyone's attention? Splendid!" He gestured. "Come with me, come with me to the kitchen!"

When they'd come with him, come with him to the kitchen, he looked them each over. "My, my, Vitali does like them cute." He laughed, ignoring Revya's raised eyebrows and Tori's frown. "This will work out nicely. Now, Vitali tells me you usually open at eight."

"Eight on week days, nine thirty on-" Brytta rattled off.

Curio laughed and set his finger to her lips. "Well, why don't we help cousin Vitali out? He's losing coin by not nabbing the early morning crowd. I want you lovelies ready at five."

"Five?" Angeleva squeaked.

Curio smiled serenely. "I'm glad you can hear."

They muttered. They grumbled. They stepped with unnecessary forcefulness down the stairs to the kitchen. But they were down by five in the morning. Curio, however, was not.

Angeleva yawned, blinking in the early-morning twilight. "Great. Back to bed then."

"He left us a list," Tori said, unhooking Vitali's personal clipboard from the wall. They clustered round.

Morning, ladies!

Just a few things to do before we open at six-thirty - yes, six-thirty sharp! We're opening with a sale on breakfast pies, so tell the cooks to make those in reserve. Also, be sure to set out signs in the window, use yellow paint, or red, yellow and red paint excite hunger, you know. I'll be along shortly. I'm sure you can muddle along without me.

-C

Tori looked over her shoulder. "Hey, chefs!"

Silence. None of the chefs had yet shown up.

"They're too smart for this," Revya muttered.

"I'll get the fires going," Brytta said, rubbing her forehead. "Angie, find me some recipes for breakfast pies."

Even after the lunch melee, Curio still hadn't shown, and both the waitresses and the finally-arrived chefs were hoping he'd fallen down a sewer, at the very least. Revya clattered back into the kitchen, nearly rolling her left ankle over (she'd never be used to the heels), and stared at her right wrist. It sported a large yellow splodge. Now, was that mustard from some customer's lunch or hunger-exciting yellow paint from the signs this morning?

She was by one of the kitchen's windows, and it suddenly banged open, shutters bouncing off the walls. "Hello, peons!"

Revya spun, happy and wary at the same time. "What are you doing here?"

Gig noticed her and did a double take, then raised an eyebrow and crossed his elbows on the windowsill. "Just who are you?"

Revya dropped her smile. "This is one of those times when you're not being funny."

Gig leaned further in to get a better look at her. Revya vaguely tried to press the skirt down over her thighs. It wasn't that she minded showing skin, this was just such a thoroughly stupid way to do it.

"When I heard you were going to moonlight as a waitress, I thought you were just being a patsy." Gig's head snapped up. "Are you indulging one of Vitali's weird fantasies or something?"

"I have no idea. And I'm in kinda a hurry, so-"

"That you have no time for me? Suuure." Grasping the top of the sill, he hoisted himself through the window and into the kitchen.

As he did so, Brytta backed into the kitchen, carrying a tray of assorted gelatins. "Revya, have you seen the - Oh no, it's the hotpod guy."

Gig shrugged. "Worse things to be known as. C'mon, kid, hook me up."

One of the cooks passed Revya a plate of appetizers. "Gig, we have to sell these. Vitali's not here, and if he finds out we've dumped all our hotpods into you, he'll mince us up and serve us in a soup."

Gig gave her a withering look. "You're so unimaginative! Why does the cleric even have to know?" He popped a hotpod into his mouth. "You just said he's not here. It's called cooking the books."

Revya shook her head. Firmly.

"Dammit, what good is it having someone on the inside if she's not an enabler?"

"You know, there are times I think it is an addiction with you."

He chomped another pod, using his thumb to wipe away a trail of juice. "So what about all those things you vowed to me, huh? Just going to ignore them the moment it gets tough?"

"I never vowed to feed you hotpods and - hey!" With snake-like swiftness, she slapped his hand as it went back for the tray and its bowl of candied hotpods. Seeing Gig with a hotpod was such a thoroughly normal sight, she hadn't even registered it until now. "Go and harass someone else, I have to get these moving." She hurried out, feeling a twinge of guilt that she'd left Gig in a room full of hotpods and frenzied chefs.

Revya didn't get a chance to breathe until twelve that night, and as she stumbled into the kitchen, she couldn't help hoping Gig had hung around to wait for her.

"Nah, he left around two o'clock," Angeleva said, wiping down her tray. "Thank heavens we managed to save most of the hotpods."

"Good," Revya said, feeling deflated. So he'd come to get his hotpod fix, not catch up with her. Figured. She shook her head. No, be reasonable. Who'd want to wait thirteen hours? Bit excessive.

"Hello, my baubles, how did everything go?" Curio bloomed in the doorway, then swept among them, ignoring the complaints they instantly started heaving at him. "Splendid, splendid, I'm glad to hear everything's so vigorous."

More yelps from the wait staff. He waved his hands as if to both silence them and rise high above them. "Now, now, I have contracted a deal I know you'll like. Cousin Vitali will adore it. Have you ladies heard of Campanule Hotpods?" They were shouting by now, so he shouted more loudly. "Rare - delicious - nobles will pay scads for them - great price - old friend of mine in the market - should boost business by two hundred percent! - order as many as you need - Well, that's all ladies - ladies - no, please, not the hair - LADIES-" A ripple of laughter as he twisted out of the knot of angry waitresses. "Shall see you tomorrow! Ta and good night!"

"You know," Revya said, looking out the front window, or what little could be seen through the many posters and cook-off challenges plastering the glass, "I'm kind of glad Curio isn't showing up."

Two days had passed since they'd seen their boss, and though a crate of imported hotpods had arrived, Curio had not.

"Wowz," Brytta said, looking at the bill. "These things are steep. I could buy my parents' house with this crate."

Tori twisted the ends of her hair. "Curio must actually be a decent businessman...somehow."

Shrugging, Brytta told the cooks to incorporate the Campanules into the more popular recipes while Angeleva and Revya made posters promoting the fancy pods. By that evening, one glance at their profits told them the hotpods were more than paying for themselves. They ordered fifteen more crates.

Word must have spread to Curio, because he was there the next morning at five o'clock, beaming. "What did I tell you?" He waggled a finger in Angeleva's face. "What did I say?" He raised his eyebrows at Revya. "Success! Vitali won't know what hit him when he sees these profits." Chuckling, he patted his waitress and sauntered out.

There was something of a delayed reaction.

"He just patted my head," Brytta said in a strangled voice.

"He just patted my cheek," Angeleva responded.

"He just patted my butt," Tori mentioned.

"He walked right past me," said Revya.

And thus to business.

There was always a dead period directly after the evening rush. When Revya was on her much-needed dinner break, noshing on a sandwich, she heard the sound of a disturbance at the far end of the kitchen. She half-rose from her chair, then decided, nah, she couldn't bring herself to care enough.

"-told you and told you, you're not allowed here, if you show up again, I'm going to call the town guards-"

"He said I'm not allowed here as long as I gobble up the profits-"

"-right, so if you don't leave now, I'll hit you with this-"

"Holy hell, what sort of villains are you? Can't I even see my own widdle wifey or is she too busy getting fitted for a pair of bunny ears?"

Revya swallowed the rest of her sandwich and clunked over to the backdoor, trotting around the side of the restaurant. Gig stood at the window, out of striking range of a small assistant cook and a very large pair of tongs.

"Hey, there you are," Gig said brightly. "Did you bring any hotpods?"

She latched onto his wrist and attempted to draw him away from Tranquillity Grotto. "Is that all you think about?"

"I can't believe you're still asking dumbass questions." But after shaking his wrist free, he fell into step beside her, walking further into Astec. "So, when are you going to be done with this shit?" he asked presently.

"I honestly don't know. Until Vitali comes back and finds a new-"

"Just hire the first beggar you meet. Damn, why should you have to put up with all of this?"

Revya toyed with one of her earrings and looked up at him. "What, are you missing me?"

"Hm, let's see." He began to tick off on his fingers. "One, I get all the hotpods at home to myself, except for when the cow barges in. Two, I get the bed all to myself, which means the covers are all mine, the pillows are all mine, no one's snoring and making a racket every time she rolls over in her sleep-"

Revya ticked off on her own fingers. "One, I'm getting restaurant-cooked food three times a day. Two, I'm not sleeping next to a freak who wakes up every time I blink-"

"-Three, you're dressed like some pedophile's nympho princess-"

"-Three, you're getting plenty of time on your own to pick out a new sofa, which I hope you like, because you'll be seeing a lot of it-"

"-Four, all the work's made you bitchy and unreasonable - Hey!" He grabbed her as she slumped against him, transferring most of her weight onto himself. "What's wrong? Damn, did you twist your ankle?"

"Hate it," Revya said, removing her heels. They'd come to a small park, and she deposited said heels beneath the first convenient tree, limping slightly. She didn't raise her voice, but she didn't lose any vehemence either. "I hate it here. I want to go home. And I'm missing you like crazy, for some stupid reason."

She felt Gig sigh and mutter, "Back atcha", before drumming his fingers against her waist and continuing with a more characteristic confidence: "Okay, so we'll go back and you can give notice, and then we'll go home and the cow patty will squeal and throw her arms around and you and knock you down and probably give you a concussion. All good. Why are you shaking your head?"

Revya tucked herself against him, happy both to be close to him and to be totally scrunching up that horrid skirt. But not happy enough. "I can't desert the others."

"Desert? What? C'mon, this isn't a prison compound, it's a restaurant."

She shook her head again. "No, it's - If you haven't been there, I don't think you'll understand. Curio is just...gah."

"That bad, eh?" Gig switched to rubbing the back of her right shoulder, which tended to tighten up when she felt tense. She wondered if he remembered that from when they were fused or if it was just coincidence. "All the way to 'gah' level. I believe it. You're slumming with Suxalot, and I don't even get free hotpods."

After a moment, Revya lifted her head from Gig's chest and gazed at him. After five seconds, she showed no appearance of wanting to stop.

Gig raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"My you're getting a lot of mail," Curio said five days later.

Revya looked up, blinking against the lamplight. It was after-hours, and she'd been ready to collapse onto the nearest horizontal plane and sleep, but she'd caught sight of the evening mail stack. Most of the letters had been for her. "Oh, you know, just telling everyone about how great the restaurant's going."

He smiled and chucked her under the chin.