fh_trips | Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Feet Below Fandom, Tuesday

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bde summer 2021: donut holes

Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Feet Below Fandom, Tuesday

The second Tuesday in the hole saw the campfire big and bright. There were loads of marshmallows to toast, chocolate and graham crackers for those who wanted to full-on make s'mores (despite, you know, the lack of adequate bathing facilities down here), and even some hot dogs for those who wanted to eat something other than massive amounts of sugar after the quest to finish off all the ice cream at Chilly Boulder before it melted.

Now they just needed some crappy beer and an asshole with a guitar playing "Wonderwall" and it'd be a proper high school style rager. Or, you know, they could all just mope and/or brainstorm around the fire for a bit.

[open!]

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There was also, perhaps a little less anticipated by the narrative, at some point, a fully functional, two-anvil blacksmith shop joining the slowly building mini-village under the surface, and, sure, nothing had attacked them yet, but they now had a ton of weapons at their disposal, too, and a ridiculous monster of a machine that, despite its name, would not likely manage to get much Crumbling done down here at all.

But once the forge landed and Amaya, miraculously not suffering at the expense of falling weapons and ensuring that the Crumbler was fine, too, warily went to peek out the door to see what happened.

And promptly started swearing.

"Ahh confound it all! Stars damn it, zards!"

She disappeared inside again, emerging a moment later, wielding a heavy mace.

"I swear, if I see one goblin down here, I will pulverized you into goblin paste! Stealing a woman's bed ain't good enough for you, huh? Now you gotta steal her whole sho--"

She paused, blinking at her surroundings, which appeared to distinctly lack any goblins, and lowered her weapon.

"Oh," she said slowly.

"Kaaaay.....?"

How insane were the odds that would make Beaker be directly under one of those anvils when they fell? Astronomical, right?

And yet.

You know what? That sort of dedication was damn impressive.

That was why Beaker was Amaya's favorite.

And that is also why, once Amaya returned to the shop to take stock of what might need fixing, she was immediately startled by what looked like a familiar splat of felt underneath one of the anvils.

"Zounds! Beaker?"

She didn't wait for a meep of confirmation before she was moving to try and shove the anvil off of him. Which was no small feat, those things were heavy, but she just might be able to get it off of him without needed to fire up the Crumbler...

"Meep meep meep meep," Beaker said, sounding squished and disgruntled.

"There....we....go!" grunted Amaya, giving her shove into the anvil everything she had until it tumbled off of Beaker with a dull thunk on the floor, and then Amaya needed a moment to catch her breath and roll her shoulder because she was definitely going to feel that one in the morning, and then she looked down, wondering if she should offer her hand to help him up.

"You alright, there, Beaker?" she asked, knowing full well that he was. "Need me to get the bellows to get you back in shape?"

Was it...weird that she hoped she needed to get the bellows to get him back in shape?

"Meep meep meep," Beaker said, gone almost two dimensional because it was funny.

So yes, get the bellows!

Amaya nodded with complete understanding.

Not because she actually knew what Beaker was saying, of course. Just because certain tropes were also deeply embedded into her own coding, as well.

"On it!"

So she returned very quickly with the bellows, and got right to work with them to pump enough air into him to get him back into the third dimension.

Edited 2021-07-06 17:11 (UTC)

"Meep meep meep!" Beaker said triumphantly after his nose had reinflated back to its usual size, putting his arms up over his head.

Hooray! Now he was...still stuck in a hole!

Small victories, right?

Small victories!

"Atta boy," Amaya gave pump of her fist, as well, in approval, with a proud little nod. "No need to feel so depressed. Air'll always be there to help you put when I can."

Oh, those were hilarious!

Possibly to just the two of them. Beaker gave her double thumbs up in appreciation of the puns.

"Uh," Travis said, rather taken aback by the medieval weaponry. "Yeah . . . haven't seen any goblins down here yet."

Why did these people all insist on giving him more things to worry about?

Because a lot of these people have been here for way too long.

"Hm?" Amaya's attention shifted and she blinked at Travis a little, mostly just confirming that, yup. Not a gobin. Then she frowned, because if goblins weren't involved, then what was???

"Good," she decided with a firm nod. "Hopefully it stays that way, the last thing I want to deal with today...or any day, for that matter...is goblins."

It was a real problem.

"I will . . . take your word for that." Travis thought there were probably other things that were worse -- goblins were just, like, short obnoxious people, right?

Spoken like someone who had never dealt with goblins before, really. Or, at the very least, had never had their bed stolen and then tried to be wooed by them!

"So...what is going on here?" asked Amaya, because, surely, Travis wasn't sick of answering that question yet!

"Buildings just being sucked down into holes?"

Well, at least Amaya, for all her obviousness in the last week due to fancy cane-sword work, was pretty quick on the uptake.

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