# Finding Aid
### A Dimension 20 Interactive Fiction Adventure
//Story Tags: Wizards, The Undead, Mind Control, Spreadsheets//
---
(input-box:2bind $name,"=XX=","Type your name in this box!")
[[That's me!]]Your name is ''$name.'' Welcome to The Unsleeping City!
You haven't been here long: you were only awakened to the truth of the magic that undergirds this city and many others two weeks ago. You're still pretty fresh, all things considered.
Despite this, it's kind of a relief to have access to this world. You hadn't exactly been doing the best for yourself before this. Job-seeking is //hard//. (Shout out to degrees in Creative Writing. They don't exactly pay well.)
You'd been lucky enough that Ms Sinclair — Esther, she'd told you to call her — had been kind enough to offer you a paid position at the Gramercy Occult Society.
They'd been looking to hire a librarian. And a quartermaster. And a guy to juggle spell components. All sorts of things that require copious amounts of inventory management. And you'd looked like you knew your way around a spreadsheet or two.
So you said, sure; what else were you going to do now that you could see that the guy operating the bodega downstairs from your apartment was really a manticore. Get back to applying for copywriting jobs?
So that's where you're at.
[[The library of the Gramercy Occult Society.]]It makes sense that there's a library underneath here: there is a library above-ground too, after all.
You'd asked if there was any sort of inventory management system software that you were supposed to learn, and Esther had shaken her head and said no, nothing that complicated. Wizards are fond of their analogue spellbooks, and not so fond of computers on the best of days. They aren't exactly artificers. Gramercy's last head wizard had been over a hundred years old, and so hadn't been super keen on complicating things more than they needed to be.
You and JJ are probably the closest thing they have to technological native Zoomers, and JJ is a quantum physicist. He knows his way around these things. You've just got a Humanities degree, which, if you've learnt anything about how the economy works, is functionally useless in comparison.
But you are good at writing, and organising, and you've done a little bit of secretarial work before. Surely this can't be that difficult?
[[It's time to dig through your desk.]]You haven't got much in here, but you still take a look. There's a clock perched on the desk, probably to tell the time given that you can't see the sun, and a [drawer under your desk.]<tuc1|
There's also a standard issue desktop computer, which looks a little old but functional enough for your purposes. You boot it up.
(link-repeat: "Submit password.")[{
(set: $password to (prompt: "Please enter the password", "Enter password here"))
(if: $password is "wizardsrock2")[
(replace: ?results1)[ [[I'm in.]] ]
]
(else:)[
(replace: ?results1)[Access denied.]
]
}]
[]<results1|
(click: ?tuc1)[(replace: ?tuc1)[drawer, under your desk. It slides open with a nice click. Poking through it, you note that it contains keys to some unidentified doors and little bits of miscellaneous stationery — pens, notepads, a stray rubber band.
On one of the notepads, you spot [something scribbled down.]<tuc2|]]
(click: ?tuc2)[(replace: ?tuc2)[something scribbled down.
PASSWORD: wizardsrock2]]You successfully unlock the computer with the help of a conveniently placed post-it, and get to work looking through what your predecessor had left behind. Which: it looks like it wasn't much?
The desktop is pretty sparse, it seems like it's just the default apps that have been installed on it, as well as a single spreadsheet labelled (color: green)[(link-repeat: "INVENTORY")[(open-url: 'https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/158fKnv1nqBZuK-U31guhLky8y-BfkyiMXA0jk2o2lt0/edit?usp=sharing')]].
Opening it pulls up a very simple spreadsheet with a list of inventory that the Society seems to currently be holding onto. (link:"Hang on.")[Hang on.
This isn't Excel. This isn't even (link:"Google Sheets.")[Google Sheets.
What the hell is this?
[[Text your boss.]]]]They won't let you do anything [[Search for the book.<-else]].
(force-input-box:2bind $book3,"=XX=","1087")
(event: when $book3 is "1087")[The lich smiles.
"Give it to me."
[[You do.]]] (if: visits >=15)[No. //No.//
[[You resist.]]] You hand the book over, compelled by the weight of an overwhelming desire to be helpful to this person, no matter the cost. Your customer chuckles, salutes you, and leaves.
From outside the room, you hear an explosion, and the sound of laughter.
//Oh. That's bad//, is all you can think to yourself before you pass out.
[[Fuck.]]Esther responds almost immediately, and you're impressed by what an excellent texter she is. You personally hate replying to texts, and a regular 24-hour response rate is already pretty impressive for you.
(link:"Check your phone.")[''$name'': Hi Esther
''$name'': Sorry but I don't think I'm familiar with exactly how to use this spreadsheet programme? It's not one of the ones I've used before
(after: time + 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Oh right that]]
(after: time + 4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': I got it off a halfling from another universe sometime last month]]
(after: time + 6s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': It's called Hexcel haha]]
(after: time + 8s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Just use it the way you would any other spreadsheet software. It kinda works the same]]
(after: time + 10s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': I mean, mostly the same. You can cast with it but that takes a bit of work and I haven't figured it out 100% yet
(link:"...")[''$name'': Okay cool thanks
(link:"...")[Well, you guess you're on your own!
[[Start typing.]]]]]]]The spreadsheet isn't actually that complicated. There's a search bar on the first page that seems to be able to pull data from the full inventory list into it, which is pretty intuitive to use. You spend an hour or two sifting through the stuff in the spreadsheet, and eventually realise it doesn't make sense to sit there at the front desk with no idea what any of these items look like.
You pop into the (link: "back office.")[back office.
There's rows and rows of shelves of boxes here, of various shapes, sizes, colours, materials, and configurations. They don't seem to have any meaningful sense of order, or consistency in form.
You have no idea what's in //any// of these boxes.
[[Try opening one.]]]You try the box closest to you first, an orange one shaped like a heart, and realise very quickly that it's locked. Giving it a once-over, you realise that none of the boxes have mechanical or even electronic locks, and so must be sealed shut in some arcane fashion.
You sigh. This might be more complicated than you imagined.
[[Back to the door.]]Turning back to the door, you notice a [piece of paper stuck to the wall.]<tuc3|
There's also... a pinpad?
[[Try typing something in.]]
(click: ?tuc3)[(replace: ?tuc3)[piece of paper stuck to the wall.
Upon closer examination, the piece of paper says:
(align:"<==")+(box:"=XXXXX=")[Hey! I'm quitting the Gramercy Occult Society to be a rogue wizard in line with Tony Simos of the Order of the Concrete Fist, but I thought I would be considerate to whoever my successor is and leave some instructions on how to operate the system.
If you have access to the Hexcel spreadsheet, you should have noticed that the items people want have item ID numbers associated with them. If you enter the IDs into the pinpad, the system is enchanted such that the box with the item you're looking for should float out from the shelves to give you what you're looking for. That's Hexcel babey!
Okay, bye! I'm hoping no one reads this, because that means our scheme would have failed terribly and I'm probably either dead or in wizard prison. Not sure which is worse.]
You kind of hate this guy.]]The pinpad seems to accept 4-digit codes. You try to recall the first item ID that you saw at the top of the list of items, just as an experiment.
(input-box:2bind $book1,"=XX=", "Type your PIN here!")
(event: when $book1 is "1001")[A medium-sized purple cardboard box gently floats over to you, compelled by your use of spreadsheet magic. It deposits itself on the wooden table next to you, and the cover lifts itself off.
Inside, there are three pristine copies of //Misty Moore: An Unauthorised Biography//, and they're even signed by the celebrity herself before her tragic passing (and, err, from what you've come to understand, her rebirth).
"Fascinating," you mutter to yourself. You retrieve a copy, and the box closes itself and returns to its shelf, just like that.
Suddenly, you hear the bell at the counter ring.
[[Well, answer it!]]]Through the door, you see someone waiting for you at the counter. Hurrying back to your post, you realise that it is also, thankfully, someone that you know — it's Kingston Brown, the Vox Populi of the city.
Or, well: you don't //know// him, like you've never spoken to him one-on-one before, but you'd seen him on the day that Esther had introduced you to the Society last week. He'd been hanging back in the corner and speaking with JJ, who had been gesticulating wildly as he explained the new discoveries he had made about how the technology that made the Umbral Engine work. Kingston had chuckled a little at JJ's enthusiasm, and you'd overheard something about how glad he was, again, that there was fresh blood helping out in the Unsleeping City.
So, you don't know him, but he seems nice. And surely he won't be that mean to you if you don't know where anything is today?
Kingston clears his throat. "Hi, sorry, $name, was it?"
"Yup, that's me!" You chirp, plastering a bright smile on your face (oh god, he knows your name). "What can I help you with?"
[[Help him.]]Kingston looks a little sheepish. "Yeah, thank you. See most of the time, my powers... I'm able to do most of my things without the need for extra materials. The city provides, you know? But there //is// one thing that is really difficult for me to do without.
"I don't use them that often, thank god, because it's not that often that I have to actually //use// Revivify, but I do need to keep real diamonds on me just in case. Alejandro used to keep them in a protected box in the back of the storeroom, so that only the store wizard — that's you, I think — would be able to retrieve them."
You nod slowly. You think you know how this works now?
[[Find the diamonds.]]"Yeah, it shouldn't be any problem at all. Give me a sec," you say, checking your now-handy spreadsheet before heading back to the pinpad.
(input-box:2bind $gem1,"=XX=", "Type your PIN here!")
(event: when $gem1 is "1012")[This box is much smaller than the last one, a black box with the texture of velvet. The box snaps open, revealing 11 tiny sparkling white gems, lined up in neat rows. You aren't an expert of any sort, but god, do those look //expensive//.
You hand them over to Kingston for his inspection, and he looks pleased. "The same quality as my man Alejandro always got them!" He blows a kiss to the heavens in thanks, then remembers you're still standing there.
"Right, sorry. Thank you so much for your help. I'll text Esther to let her know you've got a good handle on things."
You beam. You're getting an A in inventory management. Something which is reasonable to want and possible to achieve. You're //definitely// going to— Ah shit, you can't tell your therapist about this. Because of the whole secret magic thing.
(Maybe you can tell her you got a new job? In a library? At the New York Public Library? You are kind of sitting here underneath it, anyway.)
While your brain cycles through these thoughts, you wave goodbye to Kingston and settle back into your activities.
[[What were you doing?]]]Well, now that you've figured out how the spreadsheet works, you don't have that much to do. It //is// fairly simple; Esther was right.
Speaking of your boss: sounds like she's pinging you again.
(after: 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Kingston just let me know how helpful you were, good job
(link:"...")[''$name'': Yeah, he just came by
''$name'': He mentioned a name. Uh. Alejandro?
''$name'': Am I spelling that right
(after: time + 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Yeah, Alejandro Ortiz]]
(after: time + 4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': He was the previous archmage of Gramercy before I became the archmage, and also my mentor
(link:"...")[''$name'': Wow, what happened to him?
(after: time + 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': He died
(link:"...")[''$name'': Oh my god my bad
''$name'': Sorry my condolences
(after: time + 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': It's fine it was a few years ago]]
(after: time + 4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Plus, he's in Heaven now, so I can kind of go see him if I want to at the Terminal, but I do have to go through Nod, which is a little annoying
(link:"...")[''$name'': Yeah I can see that
(link:"...")[You settle down to go through the rest of the spreadsheet.
[[Do that.]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]There's four columns on the spreadsheet, all of which are fairly intuitive.
The first is item IDs, which you're already familiar with. The second is the name of the item, which is also easy enough to search up. Next to that is the //type// of the item, whether it's a book or spell component or whatever. And the last thing is the quantity of the item.
Looking over the list, you're really getting the impression that Gramercy is a little bit wacky about some of the stuff that it chooses to keep around. Like, what the hell are (link: "//'bags of blood of ambiguous origin'?//")[//'bags of blood of ambiguous origin'?//
Two bats flutter up to your desk, and immediately transform into vampiric teenage girls.
[[AH!]]]"Oh my god, sorry, we didn't mean to scare you!" says one of them. The two girls are identical Latina goths with very sharp teeth.
"I'm Ana, this is Amelia, sorry again! We were in a rush because we got hungry." Ana smiles at you cheerily. "We keep our snacks in the back, if you could go and get two of them for us."
Right. Vampires. Snacks. //Right.//
You nod, and shuffle to the back. Right.
You can do this.
[[Find their snacks.]]You go to the pinpad.
(input-box:2bind $snack1,"=XX=", "Type your PIN here!")
(event: when $snack1 is "1074")[The girls whoop and cheer as a much heavier-looking metal cooler extracts itself from the crowd, and when you open it, there's a small hiss from the compression of the fridge. You see bags of blood that have been modified to look like Capri-Suns inside.
Well, at least whoever got them seems to have a sense of humour.
You pick out two and bring them to the girls. Amelia snatches one immediately, while Ana gently takes hers from you with thanks, and pokes a straw through the hole. They both take big sips of the blood, and sigh happily.
"Okay, we're going to get back to spellwork now. See ya!" Finishing their drinks, the girls toss them into the nearby trash can and transform back into their winged forms.
[[Well. That sure was something.]]]Honestly, they're less intimidating because they're vampires and more intimidating because they're eternally teen girls. But they're sweet. You're sure you'll see them around again; it sounds like they're also wizards at Gramercy.
If this is what your job is going to be like — running errands for people, maintaining spreadsheets, spending your free time learning spellwork, you're not going to complain! Everyone so far has been really nice.
[[Have fun at your day job.]]Most of your job seems pretty ad-hoc, that is to say, you'll only have something to do if someone actually comes to you with a request. You feel like it might be smart to find something else to do in the meantime, just to make sure you're using your time wisely. Or you're going to spend your whole time in this place playing [Solitaire.]<tuc4|
You look through the spreadsheet. Is there any book that you could use for learning spellwork? Something that would be good for beginners?
[[You think you have something.]]
(click: ?tuc4)[(replace: ?tuc4)[Solitaire.
You open up the desktop to check if they actually have it installed. Devastatingly, they do not. This god-forsaken computer has magic spreadsheets but doesn't even have Solitaire.]](input-box:2bind $book2,"=XX=", "Type your PIN here!")
(event: when $book2 is "1098")[Instead of being contained in a box, a well and truly dog-earred copy of //Wizardry For Dummies// flies directly off the shelves and into your hands, like it was personally excited to get to you.
"Huh," is all you have to say.
[[Read the book.]]]As a beginner, it does seem really accessible to you, not in the least because of the //For Dummies// title. (You make a mental note to ask a senior wizard if the guy who writes these is awakened to the Unsleeping City too.)
[[Study hard!]]You get a full three hours of study before your next customer (is that what you call them?) comes by to make use of your services.
In that amount of time, you've managed to copy down and learn Dancing Lights into one of the spare grimoires that's been lying around, so now you've learnt your first real wizard spell, and it's even a cool party trick! You've switched the ceiling lights off for the purposes of practice, and the glowing orbs now dance around where they were lit, giving the room a sense of warmth. It's cool. This is so cool. Being a wizard //does// rock.
"Hello?"
[[Augh!]]You drop your concentration by accident, and the entire room plunges into darkness immediately.
"Shit man, my bad. Didn't mean to scare you." The intruder flicks on the light by the door, and you're met with a grey-haired, grey-eyed woman, who has the deepest and darkest eyebags you've ever seen in your entire life. And you've seen some people who were really in the trenches; you went to college. Some of your friends are even //lawyers//.
But no, this lady is different. She's not exactly intimidating, but something... Something about her energy is. Well. it's //strong//, for sure. You can't tell if it's malicious. Then again, you only began being able to sense this sort of thing two weeks ago, so who really knows.
She's still waiting for you to answer.
[[Dude, answer her.]]"Sorry, hi, yes, can I help you." You pause, stumbling through your words. "Sorry, that was a question. Not a statement. Um, how can I help you?"
The woman seems mostly amused by your lack of composure. "Hi. Yeah. I'm Charlie. Kingston mentioned you were the new store wizard. $name, was it?"
You nod.
"Cool, yeah. Anyway. Esther wants me to pick up a few things to teach some of the newbies some spells. She says that I'm the 'best person for the job'," and here, Charlie makes air quotes with her fingers, "because it's my specialty. Doesn't matter that I tell her that they're not going to be able to do the spells like me, and also, we have enough necromancy spell scrolls to go around; the fuck do they need me there to read a book for. They're wizards, they're supposed to be good at reading books."
She snorts. "But then my dumbass boyfriend reminded me that I should go and pick up his books for him, since he left them here by accident the last time //he// was in Gramercy, so I guess I'm the errand guy now."
Seeing your look of confusion, Charlie pauses to clarify. "Sorry, my boyfriend's Pete. The Vox Phantasma? Guy with a moustache and you can see his peppermint tooth when he smiles?"
[[Oh yeah, you know him.]]He was //also// at your orientation, but he came running in late because he said he had to close up his shift at the bookstore he works at, and then he got sidetracked. Charlie laughs a little when you tell her this.
"Yeah, that sounds like Pete," she says. "Anyway, he said he left two books here by accident, and then whoever was in at the time made a note that they belonged to him, but he kept forgetting to swing by and pick them up."
You nod, noting this all down on one of your spare notepads. Suddenly, Charlie snaps her fingers like something just occurred to her. "Shit, yeah. I need materials for the kids too, together with the necromancy scrolls. Damn. If you've got any bones in there, that would be helpful."
Okay, so you've got a few things here, that you need to retrieve.
[[Get the things!]]You take your notepad with you to the backroom, just so you don't forget anything.
(input-box:2bind $pete1,"=XX=", "Type your PINs here!")
(event: when $pete1 contains "1051" and "1044" and "1043" and "1041")[One by one, the boxes slide neatly out of the shelves and deposit them in front of you. You retrieve, in order, a bundle of necromancy spell scrolls, a box full of bones, a copy of //The Body Keeps The Score//, and a copy of //Polysecure//. Items that normally go together, of course. Both books seem to have plenty of sticky tabs planted within them.
Charlie groans when you hand the items to her. "He was taking //notes//?"
She shoves the books into her coat pockets (which seem endless in number, and also seem to be able to hold things much larger than they look), hoists the entire box of bones and bundle of scrolls under her arms, and makes a shrugging gesture in thanks. "Cool, see you later."
Before she heads out the door, Charlie adds, as an afterthought, "you're doing a good job, by the way. Don't worry so much."
[[Man.]]]The rest of your day is fairly uneventful. No one else comes by with any major requests, mostly just asking for directions to other rooms in the building. JJ stops by briefly to bring you a coffee, which is very sweet of him. He says it's good to have someone else close to him in experience, even if he's a little bit ahead of you. He was starting to feel like the youngest person at the party.
You chat for a little bit about how your studies are going, so you show him your little party trick, and he's very impressed by how quickly you've picked it up.
You are going to get an A in wizardry. This is something that is reasonable to want and possible to achieve.
[[Get an A in wizardry (reasonable to want and possible to achieve).]]JJ leaves you to your own devices after a bit, and you go back to studying your book. By this time, there aren't many daylight hours left — again, not that you can see them from underground, but the clock informs you that it's almost time for you to clock out of your shift.
What a beautiful, successful, first day of work. If this is what the rest of your days are going to be like, it's really going to be smooth sailing.
You're feeling very optimistic.
[[The monkey's paw curls another finger.]]Halfway through your conversation, JJ says, "it is really cool that you're a store wizard, though. I didn't even know that was a type of wizard that existed."
You shrug. "I mean, I didn't either. I thought most wizards just like, sat in their towers and waved their wands and did some magic shit. This is just kind of like, typing numbers."
"Yeah, well, so is my job, and I'm a physicist." JJ says it so matter-of-factly that it elicits a little giggle from you. "But really, Esther did mention that only store wizards can actually interact with the backroom, so if you don't have that designation within the Gramercy system, none of that really works for you? Something like that. Like, I can't just walk up to the pinpad and press it. It wouldn't do anything for me. It's a really cool function of Hexcel to be honest, to be able to have registered users for it—"
JJ rambles on, but you're a little surprised. You like being helpful, but you didn't realise your job was actually //important// in any way.
You suddenly feel like there's a lot more weight on your shoulders than you'd previously thought.
[[Huh.]]Someone stumbles into your room.
Well, you //say// someone, you don't know who this person is. You don't recognise them, and it's weird to say this, but they don't look like anyone you've ever met in your life. Simultaneously, none of their features stand out to you at all.
You smell— what //is// that? The person smells like something familiar too, but you can't quite place it. At best, you might say it's metallic, but not the kind you would associate with machines or anything. It's a warm smell, if that means anything.
The someone speaks.
[[Listen to them.]]This Dimension 20 fanfic-game was written by Joan joanofradius, also known as (link-repeat: "@wormholes")[(open-url: "https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormholes/profile")] on AO3 and (link-repeat: "@scalematey")[(open-url: "https://scalematey.tumblr.com/")] on Tumblr. Find me there!
This fic was built in Twine, using Harlowe 3.3.9.
(Also, thank you to Zack @nervestatic for letting me borrow Charlie! :])
Mirroring this story onto AO3 (link-repeat: "here")[(open-url: "https://archiveofourown.org/works/80849791")] for comments and kudos! But I don't think I'll be able to figure out a way to fully port it like the last time, just because there's too much stupid coding involved. I hope you had fun, thanks for reading!
[[Return to the start.->START!]]Their voice is both gruff and smooth, an equal proportion of both high and low pitches. "You're the store wizard, eh?"
You nod, cautiously in affirmative. "Yeah, that's me. I didn't catch your name, uh..."
"Oh, it doesn't matter too much. Don't worry about it, I'm just a visitor passing through." They lean over the counter. "Could you do me a favour."
In the next sentences they speak, you can hear the gravity of invocation inflected in their words.
''"Could you get Alejandro Ortiz's Master Spellbook for me?"''
[[Search for the book.]] You frown at your visitor.
"Sorry, do you have some form of ID? Like, do you work here?"
They're caught off guard by your question, like they'd expected you to just comply with their request.
"I mean," you babble, "everyone who's come down here so far either works here or is like, a prominent member of the City, I can't just hand things to you willy nilly. Like, granted, I don't know every single person in this place — it's //literally// my first day — but I feel like I should do my due diligence in asking you to identify yourself? It feels like it's the right and important thing to do. Err. Not that Esther asked me to identify literally everyone, but man, you're being kind of weird right now by refusing to say anything. So if you could just—"
You are interrupted by the sight of a blue bolt of lightning lancing through the door and straight into your visitor.
[[AHH!]]You're swimming in a black void.
You're the only source of light, and floating around you in space is a never-ending sea of boxes.
Cardboard boxes. Metal boxes. Plastic boxes. Wooden boxes. Boxes as tall as a suit of armour. Boxes so wide they could hold a piano, or four. Big boxes. Small boxes. Circular boxes. Hat boxes. Boxes for gloves. Boxes for gifts. Glass boxes, the kind with open tops.
[[You're in a box.]]Kingston Brown enters the room, and this time he's in scrubs. He must work here, you realise: you'd heard he was a nurse, but not the exact details. He takes one look at you and goes, "ah, you're awake! That's good."
He checks your vitals and takes your temperature, and all seems to pass inspection, so he looks relieved. At your look of confusion, he says, "we were really worried that there would be lasting effects from the spell, but thankfully you seem fine."
"...what spell?"
Kingston frowns. "Right, yeah, you wouldn't know. The lich — that's the guy you interacted with — cast Dominate Person on you. To get Alejandro's spellbook."
Oh dear. You haven't gotten to that part of your wizard studies yet. By virtue of that fact, as well as the name itself, you can deduce that it's not only high level, but also //bad//.
Your face must signal your horror, because Kingston winces, then pulls out your chart and marks a few things off. "No lasting magical damage as far as I can see," he says, "but maybe some psychological bits."
[[Tell him about the grey child, and the weird dream.]]You wake up.
The first thing you realise is that you're no longer in an office chair. You're in a bed, which is very cozy, but also very strange, considering where you just were. Perhaps more unusual than this is that it's not //your// bed, it's a //hospital// bed.
What the hell //happened// to you?
Someone knocks on your door, and you start in response.
[[Well, it's not like you're going anywhere.]]You're in a box, and the walls are transparent. Your limbs are pressed up against each other, joints contorted into painful positions. You try to stretch instinctively, to move into a marginally more comfortable position, but it's moulded to your shape. You can't seem to move at all.
The boxes continue to float past you. Pink box. Box for a TV. Box for the disassembled parts of a mobile home. Shipping container. A cat with heterochromic eyes peeks out of a cardboard box, bounces past you into the next one, gives you a wide smile with terrible teeth, and then blinks out of existence. The world is a box, and you're just one of the units in it.
[[You see something.]]The spell doesn't touch you at all, but god, does the other guy look //pissed//. They're singed now, and you realise that the metallic smell from earlier wasn't just blood, it was //ozone//.
"Dude, stop bullying our employees on their first day of work." Charlie strides back into the room. She's covered in soot and dirt, and there's lightning laced through her fingers. In hindsight, you realise that she was actually trying //not// to intimidate you earlier. She's in full combat mode now, and it's //terrifying//.
The other guy hisses at her. She flips them the bird back. "Get the fuck out of here," she says, "and stop harrassing our store wizard."
Magic erupts from her fingertips, and you dive for cover under your desk immediately.
[[Hide!]]It smells horrible in here: with the scent of rot and artifice and lightning all mixed together, it's the best you can do not to throw up. You hug your knees close to your chest and plug your ears with your fingers.
"Stupid fucking lich!" You hear Charlie snarl, and then there's the crash of something into, and then //through// a wall, as well as the sound of bones being crushed.
[[Wait for the sounds to dissipate.]]When you're sure that they're gone, you peek out from behind your desk.
There's a massive gaping hole in the wall where the door used to be. //Well//, some part of your brain remarks, //at least you're not going to get jumpscared by new visitors anytime soon.//
Your phone buzzes.
(after: 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Christ, I just heard what's going on over there]
(after: 4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Are you okay??
(link: "...")[''$name'': Yeah I'm okay Charlie came and handled it
''$name'': The door's busted though
''$name'': Who is that guy???
(after: time+2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Rogue lich, from what I've heard from Kingston]]
(after: time+4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': He's catching up with Charlie right now]]
(after: time+6s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': They should be able to drive them off without a problem, or at least keep to keep the lich occupied enough for you to get home safely]]
(after: time+8s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': I'll send you an abjurative ward you can put up around your place that will at least alert us if they try to come after you again]]
(after: time+10s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Hopefully it shouldn't take them that long to get rid of the motherfucker though
(link: "...")[''$name'': Yeah that sounds wise and helpful
''$name'': Can I go home?
(after: time+2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Yes you can go home]]
(after: time+4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': Congrats on finishing your first day at Gramercy!]]
(after: time+6s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[''Esther Sinclair'': See you tomorrow?
(link: "...")[You think about it. You look at the gaping hole in the wall, and the copy of //Wizardry For Dummies// still sitting on your desk, and the leftover dregs of coffee from JJ. You think about how despite everything,everyone has been really //nice// to you today. Even if it's been a little weird. Other than the lich, of course.
And also, you think about the bodega manticore, again.
[[Reply to your boss.]]]]]]]]]]]]''$name'': Yeah okay
''$name'': See you tomorrow lmao
You take your book, shove it into your bag, and shut the door to the backroom. You throw the keys in your bag, humming, and make sure your desk is neat and tidy.
Finally, you turn to the computer, stare at your spreadsheet, and sigh.
[[Shut it down.]]In the distance, you can still hear the sound of glass being smashed, and the ignition of fire and wail of spirits. You're just going to have to get used to it, you suppose. Things are really //weird// around here, but in the kind of way where it makes sense, in the context of how things are. Man.
You close all your tabs and shut down your computer, turn off your lights, and go the fuck home.
''THE END.''
[[Try again?->START!]]
[[CREDITS.]] It's a small grey child, with short black hair and eyes that feel like looking into pools of the abyss. It's dark around you, sure, an inky blackness that stretches on for ages, but their eyes are //gone//, the holes where they should be filled with an even //blacker// black, the kind that Anish Kapoor would kill to have in his inventory.
(You really hate the cultural referents your brain draws from sometimes.)
The grey child squints at you. They float closer, and frown.
"I haven't seen you before, have I?"
You try to shake your head or speak, but you're stuck in a box. You can barely breathe, as is.
They seem to get the sentiment, regardless, and shake their own head. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all."
You don't know who this grey child is, but you hope they're going to help you. You try your best to plead with them with your eyes, and they press their palm to your face, against the glass.
When they speak again, it's with authority. "You can do it. Just wake up, $name."
[[Wake up.]]He doesn't seem surprised at all. "That's Nod, yeah. The Monarch of the Dreaming. Pete knows them better than I do, but it sounds like they helped you out, which is good. Hopefully that dispelled any remainder of enchantment that the lich had on you."
[[What happened to the lich?]]You enquire after your evil visitor. Kingston rolls his eyes, which seems uncharacteristic. "They got away. Charlie tried to chase them, but they managed to escape with Alejandro's spellbook. It's... Frustrating, to say the least." He stops to look at you, then adds, "Not that it's your fault, of course. It's almost impossible for you to dodge a spell like that, especially if you weren't expecting it at all."
Kingston places your chart back in its slot on the wall. You can tell he's disappointed, but trying not to take it out on you. "I'll let the others know that you're awake. Once you feel better and we're sure that you can move around by yourself, we should be able to discharge you. In the meantime, get some rest. I need to get back to trying to track this guy down."
With that, he takes his leave, and the door shuts with a gentle click behind him.
[[Think.]]You can't help but feel bad. You know he said it isn't your fault, but you can't help but feel //bad//.
You wish you'd been able to do something. You wouldn't have been able to stop the lich entirely, they seem far too powerful for that, but you wish you'd been able to do //something//. Maybe it was just the luck of the draw.
You press your hands over your eyes. Maybe you're not cut out for this. Maybe you shouldn't be a wizard after all, and go back to your normal life.
Yeah, that seems wise. You'll text Esther in the morning.
With that concluding thought, you roll over, and fall back into an exhausted sleep.
''THE END.''
[[Try again?->START!]]
[[CREDITS.]]