Rob X Punzel ~ Three!

For the first time in a little over a year, the golden light of the system swirled and coalesced into a new skill written out on Becca's arm.

Basic Skill ‘Hair Helper’ has reached level ten: Perfection!

Advanced Skill unlocked. 

Advanced Skill: Tangle Tamer: Level 1/10

Tangle Tamer is a continuous passive skill which causes the hair growing from the crown of the user's head to become [Minimally] soft to the touch. Damaged hair [Minimally] repairs itself, ensuring flawless strands at all times. The texture of the hair can be [Minimally] chosen, allowing the user to go from sleek and straight to voluminous curls, and can [Minimally] yet automatically braid itself into intricate patterns. A glowing aura surrounds the hair, [Minimally] reflecting the user's mood and releasing a scent the user has [Minimal] control of.

Immediately, a pleasant smell drifted past Becca's nose—a decidedly strange occurrence so close to the toilets. The dark room brightened, and a loose strand of her hair drifted across her field of vision, ever so slightly releasing its own light. She brushed it behind her ear reflexively, raising an eyebrow in surprise at how much softer it already was. “Maybe I can cut my hair and weave it into pillows or something?”

Oddly enough, even if she was half-joking, her hair reacted to her words. It bunched up, away from her hand, staying in place without intervention for the first time she could remember. Becca swung her head side to side slowly, and the new hairstyle remained—glowing orange to reflect how pleased she felt. “Well, that's a neat trick. If it's going to grow more than a couple feet longer every day, I'm glad to know it’ll at least try to stay out of my way.”

Leaving the dark room, she made her way over to her bunk in the dormitory and immediately tried to fall asleep. It had been a long day of manual labor, and she had no extra energy to stay awake. Even so, she found herself tossing and turning with excitement from having gained an Advanced Skill. Then, even when she was extremely tired, she found herself unable to sleep. 

Becca always sank into a slumber at sunset, as candles were considered a frivolous luxury, but even the Minimal glow emanating from her hair was enough to disturb her rhythms. Every time she half-awoke, she sat bolt upright, thinking she’d overslept and morning had already come. By morning, she felt even more tired than when she had gone to bed. Still, the sleep-deprived girl got up with a groan and shuffled to the door. There had been too many times where she didn’t get to the kitchen as early as possible and her half-portion breakfast had been seized by another hungry child—she wasn’t about to add to the tally.

After scarfing down the meager meal, she left the orphanage once more, off to search for any tedious job she could take to earn a few copper. So began her usual morning, going from store to store, doing her best not to look like a beggar or a brazen mugger. As had happened every day previously, Becca was shooed away as soon as the shopkeeper of whichever door she darkened realized she wasn't going to be a paying customer. 

The morning passed all too quickly, and a deep pit of exhaustion yawned before the young lady.

“I really hope it's not going to be one of those days.” She looked up and down the street, looking for any reputable business where she hadn't already offered her services. “One day of not earning coppers always stretches into at least three. Come on, someone has to need a hand.”

She wandered down the next road, finding herself standing and staring at a kiosk selling apples. The fresh, juicy smell of the crisp red fruit perfumed the air, causing her mouth to water and her eyes to go wide. Becca's stomach let out a plaintive wamble, and she found herself reaching out unconsciously…

…only for a firm hand to clamp down around her wrist. She jerked and tried to twist away, but the shopkeep held her firmly. Meeting his eyes, she found them to be hard and pitiless. “I hope you were planning to pay for that. I'm sure you know the penalty for stealing.”

“Get off of me; I didn't even touch one!” Becca demanded loudly, drawing the attention of the morning crowd with her words and the suddenly purple light spilling from her hair. “Do you attack everyone who thinks about buying from you?”

“Are you going to buy one?” He chuckled disbelievingly, though he tossed her arm to the side and waved her off. “Don't let me catch you near my fruit again.”

“I wouldn't want your rotten apples anyway.” Knowing better than to stay still and risk the man sending her on her way with a kick, Becca dashed down the street, weaving through the crowd until the fruit stand was far behind her. Finally, her stomach once again began protesting as her rapid movements brought her to the very edge of running out of energy. 

Becca was forced to slow and search for shops once more. She hadn't been in this part of the city before, though she was used to her job hunting forcing her to expand her range beyond what she was comfortable with. Now, Becca was closing in on the actual merchant district, the last layer people from her district could enter for free. Orphans were actively warned away from trying to go even as far as the merchant district, as the children who lived there were highly territorial over openings for work, especially apprenticeships. 

She’d seen far too many of her friends return home bloodied and bruised to want to risk it herself. Just as she turned away to start circling home in a wide search pattern, Becca's eyes landed on a type of shop she had never seen before. Reading the sign above the door which had been carefully painted, she murmured, “Sorin’s Curios. Huh. What do they sell?”

Though her heart rate surged with alarm, and a large part of her wanted to turn around and head for safer territory, she cautiously entered the store. A bell rang above her head, and the orphan went still for a moment. When no one yelled at her for the intrusion, she carefully glanced around. As far as she could see, no two items for sale were the same, which she found to be extremely odd. Most shops were extremely specific in what they sold. Clothing stores sold clothes. Bakers sold bread. 

Falling back on bad habits, Becca murmured aloud, “What’s a ‘curio’, and what does it do?”

“Welcome, young lady. An excellent question.” The soothing voice came from right beside her, nearly causing Becca to leap away and knock over an assortment of glass baubles. Only her well-maintained sense of self-preservation kept her from making a larger mistake than simply staying still. Ever so slowly, she turned wide eyes to the man standing beside her. “Is there anything I could help you with today? Or was it only curio-sity that brought you in?

When she didn't respond, the man shrugged slightly, the smile never vanishing from his lips. “I mean ‘curiosity’, I was trying to do a play on words there. Just testing it out on a new customer to see how it would be received.”

Realizing she was being rude to a potential employer, Becca shook off her nerves and firmed up her stance. “No, I understood it. I was just taken by surprise by how close you got to me without me noticing. I'm sorry to say, I don't think I can afford anything here. The… stuff you have for sale is…”

“Interesting, isn't it?” Surprisingly, upon hearing she wasn’t going to buy something, the man didn't immediately throw her out of the shop. “That's the whole point now, isn't it? I find people who aren't interested in purchasing when they walk through the door are often those who spend the most. But something about your… let's say wan appearance leads me to believe you won't be one of them. So, if you're not here to buy, and I can't sell to you, what do you want?”

“I'm looking for a career.” Expecting an immediate refusal, she launched into a detailed explanation before the man could shoo her out the door. “I'm stronger than I look! I can organize, clean for hours, and I don't complain. At all. If you need a job done, I'm your girl.”

“That's…” The man hesitated, slowly shaking his head as his smile turned into a grimace. “My line of work does not translate to apprenticeships very easily, not unless you have a merchant class and skills. There's just no way for me to-”

“I don't need an apprenticeship!” Becca ran a hand through her hair, head turning in disagreement. Her long curls swooped back and forth with the motion and shined with a hopeful pink light. “I’m just looking for somewhere I can earn an honest living without having to beat the coins out of some random passerby. I'm from the orphanage down in the lower ring of the city, and I want to be able to bring home food for my siblings.”

“Oh? Brothers and sisters?” The grimace on the man's face shifted into something… slightly more akin to puzzlement. “How many?”

“We’re not related by blood… I’m pretty sure.” Becca understood that honesty was the best policy here, as anyone could simply walk to the orphanage and get information on the children. “I grew up with some of them and practically raised others. I'm sure you don't have to guess how few donations they get there, and I-”

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, but… are you covered in fruit juice or some kind of perfume? It’s quite surprising.”

Only then did Becca realize he hadn't been looking at the ceiling, he’d been trying to sniff out the unexpected scent in the air. “Err… no, my hair just always smells good, for… reasons. I went near an apple kiosk earlier, and I think I picked up the, um, aroma there. Not exactly something I can list when applying for a job.”

“Perhaps not in a shop which sells basics and essentials, but in a curio shop?” He leaned closer, his eyes inspecting the literally glowing golden hair. “Smells and light. Curious, curious indeed! In fact… perhaps exactly the sort of oddity I need in a sales girl. Tell you what, there's always plenty of kids willing to pick up a broom or mop. If you can instead impress me in the store, bring in customers, find a good balance between informing and distracting them to make sales… I’m open to taking you on.”

The man lapsed into silence, and it was only after a few wild heartbeats that Becca realized he was waiting on an answer. “Really? You'd do that for me?”

“I wouldn't be doing anything for you. You'd be doing work for me!” Stepping away, the man motioned for her to follow him deeper into the shop. “I need to know you can do the work, though. As a little test, I'm going to give you until the end of the day to make your first sale. If you can do that, I'll give you a week of work. Impress me, and I'll get you a work outfit.”

“Then you mean to hire me long-term? You'd let me work here long enough that you'd buy me a whole uniform?” Becca was swaying on her feet as she tried to reconcile reality with this strange turn.

“Again, that's up to you… and I just realized I don't know your name.” The man turned and sketched a bow at her, though the grin on his face told her he also realized exactly how silly it was for a shop owner to bow to an orphan. “I’m Sorin, of Sorin’s Curios, and you are?”

“Rebecca Punzel.” Trying to match his energy, she swept into as proper of a curtsy as she could. “I go by Becca. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Pah.” Sorin scoffed as he once again turned to walk deeper into the store. “We'll see about that. Look around; you see how lovely and casually this store is arranged? You wouldn't believe the amount of work that goes into making it look that way… but if you stick around long enough, you'll learn.”

A bell rang at the front of the shop, and immediately Sorin’s countenance shifted. His shoulders fell back into a relaxed position, his eyes softened, and a small smile appeared on his lips. “Watch me and try to learn. The day is already half done, and you might only have one or two more chances.”

“Then I’d better not miss out on this one.” Becca swept past the shopkeeper—much to his surprise—and directly approached the lady in a fancy gown who had just stepped into the store. “Welcome to Sorin’s Curios! What in our window could have possibly earned us the attention of such a beautiful noblewoman such as yourself? No… let me guess… it must have been this three-colored decanter. A gift for one of your favored suitors? Look how it catches the light-!”

Seeing Becca ruthlessly hard-sell an expensive crystal decanter to someone who may have wandered into the shop by accident caused Sorin’s eyes to go wide. When she sneakily pulled a strand of her now waist-length hair into her hand and held it under the bottle to cause it to sparkle with luminescence as she slowly rotated it, he began nodding in approval.

“She's a natural!”