Who was Selphie Tilmitt?
Quistis sat in her apartment at the end of her peculiarly eventful day and asked that question of the online world. She was inundated with answers, most of them the same, echoing what she'd read in the newspaper. After some scrolling, she found Selphie's personal website, Taiga Chick, and clicked on the link.
"Taiga Chick is moving!"a banner across the homepage read, followed by a short article explaining why.
Booyaka, everybody! If you are a regular visitor to Taiga Chick, you probably already know what's up, but for those of you who don't, I'm moving to Dollet! Why Dollet? Because! It's so pretty, and there are these really cool attractions and shops there, and it's WARM! Plus, it's just fun to say … is it Doll-et or Doe-lay? What are the people there called? Will I be a Dolletician? Hehe, vote for Selphie!
Anyway, even though I'm changing locations (and biomes – I guess I'm Temperate Deciduous Forest Chick now XD), I'm not leaving this website. You can still count on the quality content you're used to, and I'll never run out of stories about my Trabia. The only difference is, now I'll have stories from another place, too! Things will only get better around here!
Stay tuned!
Selphie :-)
Quistis smiled. Selphie seemed pleasant and friendly, hardly the warmonger Rinoa feared she was. Still, Quistis felt a bit more investigating would be prudent, and clicked through to the content on Selphie's site. Taiga Chick was appropriately named, as it chronicled Selphie's life in the Trabia region. There was information about the area – its ecosystem, its history, and its people – some casual information about Selphie, and a sizable collection of videos and articles, many of which were humorous and no doubt accounted for Selphie's large following. There were sledding races, snowman-building contests, and an amusing little series called "Will It Sled?", in which Selphie tested out various items for their utility as a sled and offered her rating and comments on each.
Satisfied that Selphie was not a megalomaniacal heiress bent on establishing rule in Dollet, Quistis decided to close out of the webpage. But as she moved the cursor toward the corner of the screen, something caught her eye. It was a picture of young Selphie grinning at the camera, a thin braid hanging over each shoulder, a medal around her neck, and a rifle in her arms. "Throwback to when I won the under-16s at the Trabia Nationals!" the caption read. Quistis clicked on the picture and found it was filed under, among other terms, "guns".
This was getting interesting.
Pulling up all posts under that term, Quistis discovered that Selphie was a competitive shooter, with several awards and titles to her name. In addition to photos and videos from competitions, Selphie offered reviews of firearms and ammunition, tips for better shooting, instructions for cleaning and maintaining a variety of guns, and basic safety procedures. The final post in the list was a video titled "Welcome to Trabia," which appeared to have been recorded years ago. Quistis clicked "Play."
A younger-looking Selphie, bundled in a coat, hat, and scarf, bounced into view and introduced herself. She gave a quick tour of her village and the surrounding area, and then the video cut to Selphie shooting tin cans off of fence posts a good distance away. She turned to the camera with a wide smile.
"You're surprised I can shoot, right?" she asked. "Well, it's a Trabian thing! We learn to shoot almost right after we learn to walk. It's for survival.
"You see, even though we're connected online, it's still super-duper expensive to deliver things up here, so we Trabians just get our own food. One Snow Lion can feed a village for months! We need to protect ourselves, too. There are Snow Lions in the forests and Blue Dragons in the mountains, and if you've never seen an angry Mesmerize, you're really, reeeallylucky!
"But you have to be super-duper careful with guns, too. I'm going to make a video later showing how to stay safe, but don't go playing with these things, okay? Guns are tools, not toys! It's a Trabian rule. Now, let's go visit Mrs. Englemann. She makes the kee-yutest jewelry out of Mesmerize hair!"
Quistis stopped the video. That explained a lot. Selphie liked guns because she had grown up around them. To her, they were tools of survival, dangerous but necessary, and fun to operate, to boot. In this context, her excitement over tanks and military-grade weapons was similar to Quistis' excitement over top-of-the-line industrial ovens. Selphie wasn't necessarily violent, just familiar with firearms in a different way than most people.
Rinoa, on the other hand, had grown up in Deling City, the daughter of a high-ranking army officer. It was only natural that she would associate guns with violence and oppression. Quistis hoped that, if Selphie and Rinoa ever met face-to-face, they could find common ground through another topic, because the chasm between their stances on firearms was not easily bridged.
Quistis copied the link to the video and sent it to Rinoa, with a note stating it was for context. She wasn't sure whether Rinoa was even out of police custody yet, but Quistis hoped that when Rinoa saw this, she might soften her views on Selphie, and maybe even welcome her to Dollet. It was a long shot, but one worth taking. None of them could afford to alienate a potential customer. Not even Rinoa.
•o•o•o•o•o•o•
"Good morning!" Rinoa breezed into the bakery, a dreamy smile on her lips, any trace of yesterday's agitation vanished. "What delectable treats do you have for me – and not Angelo – today?"
"Well, aren't you chipper?" Quistis said, pointing to the day's menu. "I figured after the way your little demonstration ended yesterday, you'd be pretty upset."
"Oh, you saw that?" Rinoa studied the menu, then moved to the display case. "I don't suppose you also saw the officer who arrested me?"
"I must admit, that's not where my attention was focused."
"Then you missed out! He is handsome, the best-looking guy in Dollet! He's got this unruly brown hair that just won't stay under his hat, and the loveliest blue eyes I've ever seen." Rinoa sighed and pointed out her cupcake selection.
"Uh-oh," said Emmy, placing the cupcake in a box, "has the long arm of the law snatched your heart?"
"I don't know about arms, but this guy has legs for days. The long legs of the law."
"Did any part of the law actually get around to charging you?" Quistis asked. She rang up Rinoa's order, then looked her in the eyes, frowning. "A criminal record could have major ramifications for your business."
"It was nothing! A citation and a small fine. Xu said detaining me was more trouble than it was worth, so – "
"Xu?"
"The police sergeant."
"You're on a first-name basis with the police sergeant?"
"Well, not exactly. But it was right there on her nameplate, and I was trying to be friendly, so … You know who's first name I'd really like to know? That officer's." Rinoa smiled again. "His last name's Leonhart, and Xu says he's new to the force and a stickler for rules. She says she doesn't think he should've even arrested me. Xu's such a nice lady."
"You think so only because things went your way. A person doesn't become a police sergeant by being nice."
"Oh, Quistis, what are you so worried about?"
"The state of the neighborhood." Quistis brushed an errant crumb from the cash register. "This little business district is like its own ecosystem. If one of us goes under, traffic slows down even more, and then we're all in very real trouble. We have to take care of each other. And ourselves."
Rinoa nodded. "I understand. But I would never do anything that would put Sant'Angelo Books in any real danger. Yesterday's charge was mild disorderly conduct. No one's going to avoid my shop just because of that." She brightened. "Oh, that reminds me, I have a promotional idea I'd like to run by you. I'll give you the details at lunchtime."
"I'm looking forward to it. By the way, did you get around to watching the video I sent you?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
Rinoa winced and looked away. "I guess I see where she's coming from. But that still isn't the whole issue. Right now, she's living like some kind of princess on money that was made largely from wars. I don't know if she even realizes that. Until I know how she spends it – if she tries to do some good, or just hogs it all – it's going to be real hard to change my mind."
"If you do see her around town, please try not to be confrontational," Quistis warned, then gave her a conspiratorial grin. "I know you're eager to see Officer Leonhart again, but I don't think causing trouble is going to endear you to him."
"Quistis is right," Emmy chimed in. "Stand-up guys don't like troublemakers." She ignored the other women's curious gazes and straightened the takeout containers on the counter. "If only they noticed us straight-arrow types, too," she added quietly.
"Well, I'm off!" Rinoa announced. "It's delivery day, and Zone will be in to help, so I've got to get there before he tears through the boxes looking for naughty magazines. He knows I don't sell that stuff!"
"Perhaps a cupcake might ease his inevitable disappointment," Quistis offered.
"Hah! Zone's kinda insecure about things. I think the pink wallpaper here would be enough to send him running."
"His loss."
"Absolutely! See you at lunchtime."
As the door closed behind Rinoa, Zell wandered in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. "Kitchen's ready to go for the midday batches," he said. "And what the heck was Rinoa so chirpy about?"
"She took a liking to the policeman who arrested her," Quistis explained, then thanked Zell for prepping the kitchen and headed back to start on the next batch of cupcakes.
"Now that would be an unlikely couple," Zell muttered, then turned to Emmy. "Right?"
Quistis didn't catch Emmy's reply, but grinned to herself as she heard Emmy and Zell begin a lively conversation, punctuated by laughter. She tied her apron around her waist, readied her materials, and began baking, letting the rest of the world – with its heiresses and policemen and bottom lines – drop away for a little while.
•o•o•o•o•o•o•
"Why do I give twenty percent off when you only give fifteen?" Quistis looked at the coupons Rinoa presented her as part of a cross-promotional proposal.
"Because my items cost more," Rinoa said. "If you give fifteen percent off a cupcake, that's a negligible discount. And if I give twenty percent off of every book bought with this coupon, I'll never make a profit."
"But what about my profits? Every gil counts, even with the bulk discount I get from the suppliers."
"You won't be selling every cupcake at a discount. This can be a limited-time promotion. Or a limited-time recurring promotion. Like, the first Saturday of each month, and the customers have to use the coupons within a week."
"That would be easier to handle, and to prepare for." A customer approached the counter, returning her plate and cup. Quistis thanked her and wished her a good day, then turned back to Rinoa. "But the issue remains: how will you get customers into either of our shops on that day?"
"I'm still thinking about that part. I've considered themed events, especially geared toward families. 'Summer Reading Made Fun,' 'Campfire Stories,' 'Make Your Own Picture Book.' Stuff like that." Rinoa's eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe I can order some of your cupcakes to draw people in!"
"I like that idea very much."
"At a discount?"
"The standard business discount."
"There's no 'really good friend' discount?"
"Sorry, but no."
Rinoa laughed. "It was worth a try. But really, this will be a great promotion for both of us! Now, what kind of cupcakes do I want?" She propped her chin on her hand to think, and Quistis began wiping down the vacant tables.
The little bell above the door tinkled, and before Quistis or Rinoa could turn around to acknowledge the customer, the customer announced herself by talking loudly into her phone.
"Okay, so here we are, Day Two in Dollet and I'm in the mood for something sweet!" she said. "I just stumbled across this cute little bakery called Quake, and it smells super delicious in here. I'll get back to you all to let you know what I find! 'Til later!"
Quistis' shoulders spasmed at the mispronunciation of her bakery's name, and the rest of her body tensed when she recognized Selphie Tilmitt. She smiled politely. "It's pronounced 'cake'," she said, as gently as she could.
"But it's spelled with a 'q'."
"Which is not followed by a 'u.' Welcome to Qake. How can I help you?" Quistis glanced at Rinoa, and saw her glaring at Selphie, tracking Selphie's movement from the door to the counter, probably looking for an indication of violence in every step.
"Let's see … what do you have here?" Selphie peered into the display case, leaning close and fogging up the glass with her breath. "These all look really good! I can't decide. What do you recommend?"
Quistis looked toward the kitchen. Emmy was very good at pairing customers with flavors they enjoyed, but she had just stepped out for her break. So Quistis recalled what she'd seen of Selphie's website, and combined this with the cheerful energy Selphie exuded now to hazard a recommendation.
"Our lemon-raspberry cupcake is very good," she said at last. "It's tangy, but with a hint of sweetness, thanks to a vanilla cream filling. It's perfect for a sunny day like today."
"Sounds good! I'll try that one, then."
"For here, or to go?"
"Here, definitely. I wanna get a feel for the place. Dollet is so different from where I grew up, it's like I've landed on another planet!"
"She probably has," Rinoa muttered, shrugging off Quistis' frantic gestures telling her to remain quiet. "So," Rinoa continued, louder, "you say you're new to Dollet. You wouldn't happen to be Selphie Tilmitt?"
"The one and only!" Selphie beamed, settling into a chair.
"I've heard about you. Your inheritance –"
"And I know who you are, too! You're that protester from yesterday."
Quistis grimaced and assumed a white-knuckled grip on the plate she was carrying to Selphie. She hadn't expected these two women to jump right into the issue that divided them, and she certainly hadn't expected them to do so in her shop. She worried that she might end up meeting Officer Leonhart today, after all, and not in a way Rinoa would appreciate.
"Um, yes," Rinoa said. "How did you recognize me?"
"You were all over the news. Plus, some of my followers sent me videos of what happened." Selphie looked up and smiled as Quistis set down her cupcake, but immediately turned her attention back to Rinoa. "What did you mean by 'blood-stained money?'"
Rinoa blanched. Quistis hovered nearby, holding her breath, waiting for Rinoa's response and Selphie's reaction. Rinoa had really done it this time.
"Well," Rinoa said finally, setting her jaw and looking for the world like a captain prepared to go down with her ship, "look at the nature of your uncle's business. Yes, Blue Dragon supplies people like you, who use guns as daily tools. It also supplies criminals who use guns to bad ends. But that's not what made your uncle rich. The big money isn't in individuals, it's in military forces. Blue Dragon supplied anyone who asked, and the longer the wars went on, the more money the corporation made. That's what I meant by 'blood-stained money.'"
Selphie looked down at her cupcake. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. But that didn't have anything to do with me, and it still doesn't. Uncle Rendel only left me his money and his property, not his business. I have no say in what Blue Dragon does."
"Yet you enjoy the profits."
"What am I supposed to do? Renounce it all? That won't fix anything! The money still has to go somewhere, and it'll probably end up in the hands of people who won't do anygood with it."
Rinoa's eyebrows raised. "Good? I assume you're talking about more than flashy parades when you say that."
"Of course! It's true that I'm having lots of fun, now that I can afford to, but Uncle Rendel's fortune is way too much for me to spend in my lifetime. So, I'm finally able to give more than just pocket change to the people whose work I admire."
"Mm-hmm. And who might those people be?"
"The Moomba Rights Organization, the Snowflake Scouts, the International Orphans' Fund, the Chocobo Trust." Selphie counted each group off on her fingers. "Hold on, I have their cards in my wallet." She fished a bright yellow wallet decorated with chocobo silhouettes from her purse and produced a handful of colorful business cards, then fanned them out on the table, next to her yet-untouched cupcake.
Rinoa's eyes widened, and she picked up an orange card. "The Moomba Rights Organization," she read.
"Moombas are native to an island north of Trabia," Selphie explained, "but a lot of them get caught by trappers and sold as slave labor. The MRO investigates reports of Moomba abuse, rescues them when they can, and rehabilitates the rescues. They're very popular in Trabia, and the kids in school hold craft fairs to raise money for them. Now, I can give them a thousand times that much every month, and still have plenty left over!" She shrugged. "Buuut … if my blood-stained moneyis really that bad, I might have to reconsider."
"Wait, that's not what I –"
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Selphie laughed. "I honestly don't care what you think about me, or my money. I'm gonna enjoy myself, and help out people when I can, and I think that's a pretty good way to live."
"I agree," said Quistis, smirking at Rinoa over Selphie's head. "It's your money, after all, and you seem to have found a balance between personal enjoyment and social responsibility."
Rinoa made a face at Quistis, then looked at Selphie. "Perhaps I may have judged you too harshly," she admitted. "I'm sorry."
Selphie grinned. "Don't worry about it!"
"But this had better be more than a game to you. Doing good is a commitment, and I hope you stick to it. I've got my eyes on you, Selphie Tilmitt."
"Great! I love attention."
Rinoa gaped at Selphie for a moment, then laughed nervously and excused herself.
"Wow," said Selphie, after she'd left. "Is she always that intense?"
"Not usually," Quistis answered. "But she has a passion for justice and empathy, and a few personal issues to sort out. She's actually very nice, but I think right now, you've confounded her. Give her a while, and she'll eventually settle down."
"No problem. I don't let stuff like that get to me, anyway."
"That's good to hear. Enjoy your cupcake." Quistis took her leave, but had not even made it to the register when Selphie let out a squeal.
"Ooh! Flippin' fudge muffins!" Selphie cried. "Where is that baker? Get them out here, now!"
Oh, dear. Now what? Quistis took a deep breath and approached Selphie. "I'm the baker," she said. "How can I help you?"
"This cupcake is amazing! I've never tasted anything so tangy and fluffy and sweet all at the same time. How many more do you have in the case? I'll take them all!"
Quistis' eyes widened, and she let out a surprised chuckle as she glanced over her shoulder to survey the display case. "We've got three left," she said, "and I'll certainly sell them all to you, but how about making it a half-dozen with some of our other flavors?"
"Great idea! Let me see what else you've got." She sprung up from her seat and started toward the case, but paused. "Oh, by the way, I don't think we had a proper introduction. Both you and your friend knew who I was – naturally – but I never got your names."
"The woman you were talking to is Rinoa. She owns the bookstore a few doors down."
"Neato! I hope she doesn't mind me checking it out sometime. And you?"
"I'm Quistis Trepe." Quistis extended her hand.
"Pleased to meet you!" Selphie shook her hand and repeated her name several times. "Say, is that where the 'q' in Qake comes from? Very clever; I like it!"
Strawberry, caramel, and chocolate cupcakes rounded out Selphie's half-dozen, and she bounced up and down as she accepted the box from Quistis. "I'm sure I'm gonna love these," she said, then became serious. "Um, Quisty, I was wondering … I saw you also have some cakes here, and … um, do you take special requests?"
"It's Quistis. And yes, I do. Special orders must be submitted at least seventy-two hours in advance and agreed upon by both parties. Within those requirements, I'm happy to fulfill your request."
"Whoo-hoo! Next weekend, I'm having a party at my house. It'll be my official debut, with lots of music, fun, and, of course, sweets. And I think I've just found my go-to baker. I'll drop by with my request tomorrow. Thanks, Quisty, you're the best!"
Quistis began to correct her again, but thought the better of it and simply smiled and waved as Selphie left the bakery. She hadn't expected to attract Selphie's patronage so soon, and she certainly didn't foresee Selphie being so impressed with her offerings. Perhaps cupcakes were a rarity in Trabia, or perhaps the range of available flavors was limited there. Whatever the reason, Quistis had just landed the most lucrative client in Dollet without even trying. She began humming to herself as she wiped down the table Selphie had left, and wondered vaguely what kind of request she had in mind.
It was probably going to be something ostentatious, Quistis figured, coming from the woman who'd arrived in Dollet by tank. That was not Quistis' usual style, but it might be a fun change for the bakery. She was confident that she and her team could handle the request.
After all, just how eccentric could a single cake be?