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goblincas · 3 years

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Chutes and Creatures: A Four-Story Story

Oh no, it seems that a notorious fugitive is trespassing within Bnanom Brictom Community Center! And during a family-friendly Halloween event, no less. Shameful.

It's Lovell's first day as a center volunteer, but damn it, he's more than prepared to handle this.

(Featuring... loose and very homebrew-y DnD inspiration!)

To: Staff @ Bnanom Brictom Community Center

From: Bnanom Brictom Security and Office of Inner-Community Relations ([email protected])

Good evening, everyone. I sincerely hope this message reaches you all well, conditions considered. An update: The building-wide lockdown is now in place. Right now, we can use all the help we can get. Feel free to continue mingling with party guests, both to keep up morale (your own and the guests’) and to gather potential scraps of intel or information, if you happen to stumble across it. Now, we’re not necessarily suggesting you all take on the role of amateur vigilante sleuths, but make of this message what you will. ;-)

Feel free to travel between floors as necessary— nonetheless, if you’re able, we suggest limiting or preventing floor-to-floor movement by party guests, whenever possible. In the meantime, we will continue our personal investigation and monitoring of the situation. Thank you again for your continued cooperation.

Expect a staff-exclusive raffle to be arranged, at the Center’s earliest possible convenience.

Happy Halloween,

Bnanom Brictom Security and Office of Inner-Community Relations

I. Rooftop

No doubt, this wasn’t how Lovell had expected his second day of community volunteer work to wrap up. Sure, to be fair, he’d never exactly been on the best of terms with luck— whether that luck belonged to himself, or to the victims of whatever collateral immolation he’d managed to create, that time around. In a way, Lovell supposed his mere presence was a bit of a time-release, possibly airborne poison. What right did he have to act shocked?

None. Absolutely none.

Sliding a finger across the chilled surface of his phone screen, Lovell watched the sky turn red and pulpy, before oozing down into the horizon. And since news had traveled fast among the face- and body-painted attendees, chatter had already grown frenzied, spiking in pitch and fervor. Straight-faced children clung to their parents’ arms. Several guests had since tugged off their wigs and other extraneous bits of costumery, signaling the spiritual end to their booze-free festivities. Lovell tugged at his cape on reflex, but kept it fastened around his neck. The fabric felt thinner than ever, tickling at his calves, before being swept back into the breeze.

“Alright, okay!” one of Lovell’s fellow volunteers hollered, using his cupped hands as an entirely ineffective megaphone. The guy was clearly a human, yet costumed up as an especially malnourished looking drow elf. It’s always what you can’t have, ain’t it?

“Listen. I know this whole situation isn’t what y’all were hoping for, sure, I get that. I really, really do. But y’all gotta stay put. Can’t move around the building until this is all sorted out— faster security can sort their way through the building, the sooner this will all be over. And, hey, how cool would it be if ya can go on to say that you were at the party where a world-infamous, kinda unhinged fugitive was finally taken in? Talk about a story for all your future parties, am I right?”

As the human volunteer babbled away, clearly still processing his own uneasiness, the crowd began to quiet. There was a short beat of silence after the volunteer finished, which hung in the air and soured at an astonishing pace; until, at last, an attendee spoke up.

She was standing, alone, toward the heart of the swarm. Her party store witch’s hat was tipped forward, its brim casting a shadow over her features. “There’s no way we’re safe right now, then. This super isn’t okay. So, you’re just fine with potentially endangering our lives in your whole quest for justice?” the petite half-elf said, speaking evenly, and at an unfittingly polite volume. “I mean, didn’t this guy they’re looking for, like, kill a ton of people or something? What if he’s on this stupid roof with us, right now? C’mon!”

From somewhere over Lovell’s shoulder, he heard a faint whisper of, “Well, we push ‘im right off, then,” followed by a snort and some stilted laughter. Lovell clucked his tongue, but couldn’t quite temper down his own giggle. Nothing wrong with making light of, frankly, a borderline Draconian situation. It was a philosophy he tried to live by, no matter how unsuccessful he often was at doing so.

Another stiff breeze swept through the crowd, and Lovell pulled his cape tighter around his arms.

As Lovell’s co-volunteer lost hold of his barely controlled state of panic, the half-elf began to scan the crowd, which was slinking back into conversation. After spotting Lovell’s mostly-concealed yet fluorescent yellow Bnanom Brictom polo, she huffed and charged toward him, wiry arms folded across her chest. Lovell readied himself by stiffening up and straightening his posture, defaulting to what he fondly deemed his business-friendly mech stance.

She stationed herself barely a foot ahead of Lovell, tilting her chin up to continue holding steady eye-contact. Still, when she spoke, she did a top-tier job of injecting some highly sterilized, artificial calm into her voice. “Please, please tell me you at least have more information for us. I’ll take anything,” the half-elf pleaded, furiously drumming her fingers against her own forearm.

Lovell shrugged, and the half-elf deflated. “Sorry, I only know what was in the email they sent out to us, which… wasn’t much. Look, I get the ethical questions that should definitely have been raised before this plan was made, but there’s not much that I can do for you. This is kinda completely out of my control.”

The half-elf chewed on her bottom lip, before breaking eye-contact to heave a sigh at the ground. “Whatever, fine,” she said, scuffing her boot against the concrete. She turned her gaze back up, squinting at Lovell in what seemed to be an attempted menacing glare. And, surprisingly, it was pretty damn effective. Huh, impressive. “Can I at least ask for a favor, then? At least, if it’s something that’s even in your purview.”

“Sure.” He could certainly use a distraction.

“I want you to find my girlfriend,” the half-elf said, her voice growing louder and more strained. “She’s probably still on the top floor. I was a dumbass and left my phone in the car, so I just need you to make sure she’s okay. And let her know that I’m okay, too. Can you at least do that for me, if I’m legitimately gonna be trapped in this petri dish of strangers having emotional meltdowns? Please?”

Beginning to gleam down at them was the ruddy face of the moon, as it fought its way through the clouds.

Lovell wiped his clammy palms onto his jeans, nodding at the half-elf. “Actually, sure, I think I can do that.”

“Great!” The caricature of a witch was bouncing on her heels. “Alright, so, I need you to look for Bryn. That’s her name. She’s the super tall, unfairly glamorous half-orc chick, and she’s carrying a couple of plastic battle-axes. She hand-painted those herself, y’know. Just tell her that Merrie sent you, and that I’m safe, alright?”

To think, he’d only wanted some mindless volunteer work at the local community center, and now there he was: Lovell Polonian, freelance messenger of love. God knows if he couldn’t stabilize his own damn relationship, then he’d just have to carry the torch for someone else’s.

Lovell flashed a final thumbs up, before heading toward the streamer-draped stairwell.

Meanwhile, his co-volunteer had entered a fugue state, swallowed by the mob.

II. Second floor

Sharply-tinted, orange and yellow string lights were blinking throughout the ballroom, chattering amongst themselves. Not long after reaching the floor, Lovell scrunched his nose; the space smelled like a chemical rosebush, as if a full can of dollar store air freshener had been detonated maybe an hour prior. It kind of burned his nostrils, just a bit.

Alright, maybe more than just “a bit.”

Lovell paused at the base of the stairs. He surveyed the sparsely packed room, where party goers were in a similar state to those on the rooftop. Several scuffed, plastic jack-o’-lanterns lined the walls, perfectly situated to watch the madness unfold.

Certainly not to Lovell’s surprise, Bryn wasn’t especially hard to locate. After all, she was the tallest guest in the room. Her loosely coiled, auburn curls rolled down much of her back, adorned with clovers and softening her otherwise angular features. Bryn’s thick brow was furrowed, while she clutched the pair of battle-axes in her left hand.

Lovell approached the half-orc woman cautiously, not wanting to startle her and end up bonked over the head by some lovingly decorated plastic. Next to a half-orc, he could hardly feel any scrawnier and less capable of immediate self-defense.

“Hey, excuse me, are you Bryn?”

Still, Bryn jolted, knocked out of her thoughts. She stared vacantly at Lovell for a moment, buffering as she rejoined reality. “Um, yeah. That’s me. But who the hell are you?” she asked, narrowing her gaze.

Lovell raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Just an innocent volunteer. Merrie sent me.”

At that, Bryn’s shoulders sagged, as she no longer attempted to mask the heaviness. “Shit, really? Wait, is she alright? Because I swear, if she—”

“She’s alright,” Lovell cut in, before Bryn managed to spiral into an all-out panic. “She was worried, and I needed something to do, so here I am. Just checking in for her.”

Bryn nodded slowly. “Oh, okay. So she’s still up on the roof, then?”

“Yup.”

“Well, guess that’s all I can ask for, at this point,” Bryn said, shaking her head and sighing, her hair cushioning the movement. “That she’s safe. God, this is such an awful situation. Awful. Hey, do you at least have any idea when the hell they’re gonna let us out of the good ol’ danger cage?”

Despite his better judgment, Lovell quirked a grin. “No clue. And your girlfriend had some pretty similar thoughts, by the way. Choice words ‘n’ all. To be perfectly fair, I don’t think anyone’s really on board with all of this.”

Bryn snorted. “Yeah, well, maybe aside from the literal cult recruiter or whatever in our midst. I’m sure that bastard’s getting a real kick out of this mess. Like, do they really think locking down the building is gonna make a difference? The guy uses dark magic, for god’s sake. Warded or not, I kinda doubt he’s gonna be contained within a damn community center. Sheesh,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and frowning.

Lovell’s responding chuckle was weak, but it was certainly there. He hesitated and peered around, giving the room another once-over. Most party goers had broken off into clusters, commiserating amongst their own ecosystems. The lights continued to buzz and flicker, chipping away at the darkness that had spread throughout the room.

Turning back to the half-orc, Lovell smiled. So long as he made the effort to hide his teeth, maybe it could even be read as a semi-comforting gesture. “Think of it like this, then: if that weirdo fuckhead can bust his way out quickly, then the lockdown isn’t gonna last all that long. So, maybe it’s all for the best, y’know?” Lovell shrugged noncommittally.

Again, Bryn narrowed her eyes— but before she slipped in a response, a rough hand clapped down onto Lovell’s bicep. He jumped, before peeking over his shoulder.

“Boy, I’m gonna need your help with somethin’. You’re gonna come with me now, alright?”

Lovell was met with the grizzled scowl of Higgins, archetypical Northern Dwarf and long-time Bnanom Brictom head of security. Lovell’d only had a chance to meet the guy once, during his orientation the week prior.

By the time Lovell thought to turn back to Bryn, the half-orc had already wandered off.

Higgins tightened his grip on Lovell’s arm, bruising the flesh beneath his fingertips. “C’mon, son, you gotta come with me, now.”

III. Ground floor

Higgins’ office was bare-walled and low-lit, with a blackout curtain preemptively drawn. Lovell let the oak door ease shut behind himself, while the Dwarf moved to lean back against his own desk, facing the volunteer.

Lovell shuffled his feet, stabilizing. “So,” he said, holding out the syllable. “Wha’dya need me for?”

“Well, lucky you, I’ve got an emergency chore for ya,” Higgins grumbled. He huffed, hopping up to sit on the edge of the desk.

“And, that is…?”

“Well,” Higgins began, not even attempting to feign any amount of confidence over the situation. Oh, how reassuring. “I’m gonna need ya to get some supplies for me. Can’t waste my own time diggin’ around for it right now, but I sure as hell can waste yours.” Higgins punctuated his request with an amused snort.

Lovell nodded, steadily. “Sure, okay. What do you need me to find, then?”

Higgins sighed. “I won’t sugarcoat it, boy. Weapons. Gotta keep our defenses up, should we need ‘em. And it ain’t as if we’re pullin’ out that stuff often.”

“Oh,” Lovell muttered. He cocked a brow, hands fiddling behind his own back. “And, why are there weapons in a community center, in the first place? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking, I guess.”

“N’aw, it’s a fair enough question.” Higgins batted a stout hand around, dismissive. “Don’t mean I’m gonna answer it for ya, though.”

Lovell couldn’t help but chuckle. Really, he should have seen that response coming.

“Just gotta find the damn basement key for ya, then I’ll send ya on your way. I’ll give ya a map, don’t worry— should show you where everything’s lyin’ around down there. Sound good, hm?”

Flashing his brightest and most saccharine grin, Lovell nodded. “Totally. Sure thing.”

IV. Basement

“Okay, what the absolute fuck were you thinking?”

Batting an especially ambitious spiderweb out of his face, Lovell huffed.

“I know you’re down here, asshole.” He had his hands planted on his hips, glaring into the darkness. “Still don’t know what the hell you’re actually up to right now, though,” Lovell proceeded to grumble, complaining to himself in a moment of intense self-pity.

From behind Lovell, a second voice seemed to flutter around in the air, materializing before it even had a source to anchor itself to. “Really, dear, I just wanted to surprise you at your brand-new job! No need to drag me to couple’s counseling over it. Goodness,” the voice drawled, deepening and growing clearer as it solidified within the space.

Lovell turned on his heels, cape whipping around, before it slowly settled back against his body. “You’re absurd, you know that? And a jackass. Do you, like, get off on fucking with me, or something? Actually, no, please don’t answer that. Lord, please.”

From behind a staggered tower of plastic bins packed with nativity decor, a taller man emerged. He swaggered closer to Lovell, who simply glared in greeting.

“Scarus,” Lovell said, matching the ever-present warlike glint in the other man’s eyes. “You do realize that my whole point in doing this was to relax for once, right? Sure, it’s inevitable at some point that I’m just gonna get tossed through another fucking dimensional portal, but for now, I just wanted to do something… simple. Until my stupid magic short-circuits and fucks me over again, at least.”

At that, Scarus deflated ever-so-slightly, but countered the change in posture with a roll of his eyes. “Okay, but like you said yourself: We both know good and well that you won’t be here for long, and it’s not as if I meant to be noticed. Truly, I didn’t. Really, what kind of military-grade community center has such drastic warding? I promise, I meant to slip in and say hi, and that’s it.” Scarus flicked a strand of blond hair away from his face.

Lovell scrubbed his eyes, the fight already draining from his bones. “Fine, well, whether you meant to cause it or not, there’s a total lockdown of the building. And now everyone’s totally panicking. All they wanted to do was go to a stupid, family-friendly Halloween party, Scarus. A Halloween party.”

Scarus raised his pointer finger maybe just a bit too proudly, smirking. “Ah, well, in my defense: You already know I’m not the biggest fan of Halloween, as it’s commonly celebrated. Really, it’s offensive, more than anything. Maybe I did the right thing by—”

“Don’t,” Lovell supplied. “Just, don’t. Don’t even start. Listen, if you just leave right now, maybe I won’t have to carry several dozen pounds of weapons up a flight of stairs. Okay? And, for god’s sake, don’t you dare tell me that I need the exercise, or something. I will absolutely burn you in your sleep tonight, and I will feel no remorse.” Okay, maybe Lovell would feel a tiny slice of remorse, although he would certainly do the burning, nonetheless. No question. Really, there was nothing quite like some third-degree retaliation during a lovers’ spat.

“Fine. If you’re only going to chastise me, then I have no issue with heading out.” Scarus stepped forward briefly, planting a kiss on Lovell’s cheek. Lovell felt himself warm at the gesture, until, wait, no—

“Scarus… what the hell did you just do to me?”

Scarus shrugged. “Protecting myself,” he replied. “I have no intention of being set on fire tonight. Of course, feel free to use non-draconic flames instead. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly equipped to handle some bodily arson sans childish magic, no issue at all.” He snickered, pulling Lovell into a quick hug. “Alright, my fire-breathing little darling. I’ll just be leaving, then. I’ll have dinner waiting for you, alright?”

“Oh, you better, bastard.”

#my writing #my post

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