User:Nextoy/Farside Pub/Clean Energy

The life of a wiccan is a hard one to follow at times. It's a life where you are sensitive to things most would consider unrealistic, and depending on where you live hiding your identity would be part of who you are. It's not too dissimilar to most alternate belief systems in that sense, I suppose.

In a way, I got it easy. That, or much worse.

See, there’s this tavern I live near. Farside Pub, or something like that. Either way, they hire me for skills most people would want to keep under the radar: energy manipulation, and spiritual sensitivity.

I suppose it's easiest to explain in the form of a story. Keep in mind, I’d consider this an average example of my work there.

“I’m here for this month’s cleaning, sir.” I told the barkeep as I entered, a watermelon flavored sucker in my mouth. Honestly I don't like the artificial watermelon flavoring in most things, but it keeps me concentrated.

“Good, we’ve had a bit of a mess recently. People-” He didn't need to finish, I could already sense it.

“Let me guess, I have a headache ‘cause of some unruly customers?”

“Yep. Last I checked some special snowflake -” god I hate that phrase “- came in and started makin’ a mess a things. Even got our normally docile tenants all up in a bunch.” The barkeep explained, motioning towards one of the more friendly specters looking all grumpy.

“I’m not a therapist, sir.” Except for Lucy. Sweet thing doesn't need to be dealing with this mess. “But if I can clean up the energy maybe they’ll adjust back to normal.”

“If ya can get them to calm down though ah’ll double ya pay, how’s that sound?” That offer again?

“...Alright, fine.” In truth, this happens every time. He always pays double my normal wage, cause I always do the therapist work. I hate being nice sometimes.

“Alright, I’ll close up for a bit so you can focus then.” He always does that. The regulars are used to it, and he keeps the outdoor section running for people who still want to hang around.

Sometimes I hang out with them if I finish early. Nice bunch, for the most part. Sometimes the anthros can be weird, especially that mean panther who doesn't let me pet him, but other than that it's a pretty chill community of sorts.

As he went into the back I started my prep work, mostly double checking enchantments, and detangled the energies out front.

You ever have a mess of wires, maybe behind your computer or near your TV, and tried to split them apart into the individual cords? Imagine trying to do that without being allowed to unplug anything. That's my job in a nutshell.

The main tavern area is always the worst part. Lotta people bringing in conflicting energy and emotions. Most people would expect it to be near the bar itself where things are the worse, but honestly it's the pool tables where I have to take the longest.

I plug my headphone in - I purposefully bought a “pair” that's only for the left ear - and get to work on this tangled mess. I only listen to instrumentals on the job. Makes it so I can pay attention to the spirits better.

Speaking of, one of them was bugging me. Little kid, probably got stuck here. Poor thing. It seemed to be asking for it's mother, by the looks of it.

I say “it” cause little kids all look the same to me, honestly.

This lines up nicely though, as another spirit last month was looking for her lost child. I doubt they’re the same family, but a mental note of things was made.

Side note: they weren't the same family, but they did enjoy each other’s company enough to cross over together three months later.

As I was finishing up on the bar a bottle of whiskey fell off the rack. Then another. God damn it.

“Stop. Now.” I ordered, turning over and glaring at the likely culprit. A mass of negative energy that tossed a wine glass at me.

“I swear to god if you don't knock that shit off I WILL trap you in a jar of dirt.” I threatened, getting a few more things thrown at me in the process. Nothing I couldn't dodge.

All it took was a simple displacement spell to get it to calm down. Just tugging some of that energy away from the primary mass, and he was quieted for now.

“Ya done?” I asked, glaring it down as it tried to flee- oh no you don’t. Not upstairs. I anchored the energy strand to the counter and grabbed a bundle of sage as I took a step closer.

“We gonna find a way to peacefully send you off, or am I going to banish you?” I asked, waving the sage in its face. Honestly I had no intention of using it and stinking up the place, I have other spells for that.

After a few moments of negotiation it ended up leaving on it's own. It might be back later, but if it is I’ll deal with it then.

Side Note: It came back twice. On the third encounter I didn't need to banish it fully. Six months since last sighting.

Now when dealing with the pool tables I have a habit of setting one of them up for a game. This keeps the spirits occupied and out of my way, and when I’m done working near a table I set it up as well.

They’re pretty good too. Played against them myself, and it's tough. Decades of practice does that. Maybe if I had studied physics in college I’d have an edge.

Maybe if I had attended college I wouldn't be stuck in this dead end job. Least the boss is nice and it pays well enough. Better than working fast food.

My least favorite part about this job is not playing the pinball machines whenever I work near them. They even had an old school Adams Family table. One of these days I need to just blow five bucks topping the current high score.

Still, I always put one credit in and pull the lever. Turns out one of the spirits here is addicted to them. There’s even a sign next to the machine that talks about how you can do the same as me and “be amazed as the game will try to top its own high score!”

Talk about shrewd business.

The easiest part was always the dining area. All I really need to do is set down a bowl of water and some incense and clean it up later. No idea why it works, just something the manager told me the last guy did.

After that I made my way into the kitchen. I’m not allowed into the actual back, something about how it has a delicate equilibrium, but the kitchen needs to be clean of detrimental energy.

But there’s a disgruntled chef there that's always making a mess of things. He’s nothing new, but most of the newer menu options come from him.

Which is why I suppose that Barkeep and his security guy is back here as well. I sigh and get to work following the new idea this spirit came up with. Some quesadilla variant that was actually pretty good. Too spicy for my tastes, but then again I was raised a bit further from the border than the others.

Side Note: with the spirits permission I actually published a cookbook under a pseudonym. Didn't sell very well, and as a part of the contract two thirds of the money I make off of it goes to the pub.

Once the chef was appeased, I got to work cleaning up this mess. Most of the work is cleaning up after the chef, honestly. He tends to go on Gordon Ramsay-esque tangents at the workers when they mess up his recipes.

Also, I dunno how these guys get food in and out of here. It seriously just appears from what I can tell, since there's no loading area from what I can see.

Once the kitchen was finished up, it was time for me to head up stairs. Sometimes I get interrupted on the way up by a confused customer, or the spirits wanting me to set the pool tables up again.

“Outside, left along the parking lot, turn to the side of the building and listen for the sounds of drunk people.” I have memorized these directions by heart at this point.

Now the upstairs area is tricky. There’s rooms rented out to spirits, and I have to make sure there aren't any freeloaders in vacant rooms.

Before you ask, yes they have ways of paying rent. Take the chef, for example. The dead can teach us far more than the living ever will. It's a simple service for service exchange.

Chef’s room was clean already, since he does take care of things to a degree. Everyone else needed a bit of maintenance. It's the living guest rooms that usually worry me.

Spiritual hobos are a thing, you know. They tend to make our living customers nervous. Cleaning them out is the biggest part of why I’m hired. Usually they can be negotiated out, sometimes recruited as a member of the staff even. The rest of the time though I need to kick them out myself, sadly. Can't win em all, I guess.

Lucy is always last though. She is the most sensitive of anyone here, and won't come out until I’ve cleaned everything else up. She has been here since the pub was a farm, and she’s scared of almost everything. Died in a tornado, from what I heard.

The barkeep often says she’s my adopted daughter. One of these days he’s getting punched over it.

As everything else is cleared out, I walk into her room. It's hidden away from the customers and disguised as a staff break room. Its decorated like a typical little girl’s room and has a computer specifically made to play movies, like a lazy man’s arcade cabinet. It's the calmest place in the whole tavern, and I like to keep it that way.

In truth, playing with Lucy is the best part of the job. Most of my time is spent here in Lucy’s room, and she’s pretty smart. Despite having died when she was maybe eight or nine, she’s been dead long enough to grow as an intellectual. Sometimes I even put documentaries on her computer for her to watch.

Side note: I’m still working on getting a 1TB HDD filled with stuff for her to watch. Movies, documentaries, live concerts, tv shows, and even some anime. Dubbed, of course. She doesn't have the attention span to watch foreign movies with only subtitles.

With the place clean and Lucy appeased for the time being, I headed downstairs and reported work too the boss. Best part of the job is that it comes with a free drink if I decide to stay for a bit afterwards.

“Shot of whiskey. The good stuff.” I always order that. Helps me wake up before I either head home or play with the drunks. Apparently the boss appreciates my order.

Before you bitch about it being dull and how you wanted to see some story of be tangling with some demon and slapping it with my magical witch dick, that's not my job. They got someone else for that. I just clean up and sometimes work containment for those kinds of spirits.

I guess, in the end, I’m lucky to have a job that appeals to my skill set. After all, it's not like my kind has ever gotten persecuted for being good at this stuff. Nope, never.