The Victoria Housekeeping Co. building basked in rare quiet, sunlight filtering through stained glass onto the foyer’s marble floor. No clients called, no Hollows loomed—a slow day. Von Lycaon stood by the parlor window, gloved hands clasped, tail swishing faintly as he scanned for dust. Rina hummed in the kitchen, her drones drifting lazily. Corin fidgeted near the staircase, buzzsaw idle, while Ellen sprawled on a velvet chair, lollipop clacking against her teeth.

Lycaon: Ahem, this stillness is…unsettling. We must remain productive.

He turned, eyeing a crooked frame. His ears twitched as he adjusted it with precision. Rina floated in, a tray of scones in hand, Drusilla and Anastella trailing with teacups. Her violet eyes sparkled mischievously.

Rina: Oh, Lycaon, must we invent tasks? Relax, have a scone.

She set the tray down, Anastella nudging a cup toward him. Lycaon sighed but took it, sipping stiffly.

Corin: Um, I-I could prune the ivy again! It’s, uh, growing fast…

She clutched her buzzsaw, shuffling nervously. Rina smiled, patting her head.

Rina: Dear Corin, it’s perfect already. Why not rest?

Corin blushed, retreating to a corner, muttering to a potted plant. Ellen yawned, tail thumping the chair. She flicked her scissors open and shut.

Ellen: Booooring! No Hollows, no action. Can’t we spar or something?

Lycaon’s red eyes narrowed.

Lycaon: Ellen, discipline. This is a chance to refine our skills, not slack. Ellen groaned, popping the lollipop out.

Ellen: Yeah, yeah, boss. Refine this, refine that—where’s the fun?

Rina chuckled, Drusilla hovering near Ellen with a napkin.

Rina: Patience, Ellen. Even sharks need calm waters sometimes.