#and thus began a beautiful friendship full of manipulation and lying and wacky weather

[hannahmanderr]

Vortex and Lance Thunder for the ask game.

(affectionately calling this friendship Weather Report)

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"So do we have a deal? Because if not, I've got this Fenton... soup thingy and I'm not afraid to use it!"

Vortex simply glanced at the thermos in the trembling human's hand and yawned. The sound of his yawn echoed of the low rumblings of a summer thunderstorm. "Pleassssee. As if that... lowly devicccee could hold me a second time."

Lance's quivering intensified in tandem with the static in the air, but he steeled his jaw and kept the thermos firmly trained on the ghost. "Oh yeah? W-well, if it doesn't, then I'll just have to call Phantom to come take care of you!"

The clouds that formed Vortex's eyebrows arched upward. "The ghossst boy?" Like the child Prince didn't have enough to deal with, given those pesky Observants and their agendas. Not that Vortex would ever admit it, but young Phantom's power and spunky attitude had impressed him from the start. He'd never be... ugh, friends with the Prince, of course.

But did he really want to run the risk of ending up on his bad side again?

A gale-force breeze ruffled Lance's perfectly manicured hair as Vortex sighed. "And what would you have me... do again?" the ghost asked, still with an air of boredom.

"All you gotta do is tell me what the weather's gonna be." Lance hoped he didn't sound near as terrified as he felt. "I don't care what you do, as long as you don't tip off Phantom or - or the Fentons, or the hunter girl, or anyone! And not make some storm that ends up destroying the town or anything. That too."

Vortex put a hand to his chin. "A blank... canvassss, you say?" The idea certainly was tempting, even with the human's restrictions. "And... what would be in it for you?"

"A job," Lance replied immediately. "There's an opening out in Milwaukee. If I can impress them with my accurate weather 'predictions,' then they'll definitely hire me, and I can finally get out of this town for good! No more getting sent out into the field for ghost reports, no more getting my hair ruined by ghosts, no more nearly getting run over by the Fentons!"

"I do not know what a 'walkie' is or what milling has to do with it, but what would I get... onccce you obtain this job?"

Lance faltered. The idea of finally getting out of this ghost-ridden town had sent him into such an eager tizzy, the aftermath was something he hadn't considered.

And if he did get the job and went to Milwaukee only to start failing in his predictions...

He pinched his eyes shut and lowered the thermos. "I... suppose you could... come with me... but only if you agree to help me!" Carefully, he peeled one eye open the tiniest bit. "So... will you?"

Vortex hummed before bending down to the human's eye level. When he flashed a grin of wickedly sharp teeth at Lance, lightning crackled across his face. "Conssssider it a deal, human!"