Woman killed at Las Vegas apartment loved people, parties

Life in the Harem

A look at the harem of Jabba the Hutt-from the eyes of many of its inhabitants.
Mefora Arless
Her eyes straining from the transition out of the blaze of her homeworld's sun into the darkened room, Mefora struggled to see even a foot in front of her. A loud clang, followed by the beep of a lockpad, told her that she was sealed inside the cell. The floor beneath her bare feet (she had lost her shoes when the mansion was raided) felt smooth and cool. A scent of flowers, fruit, and something she could not quite place filled the warm air, and a whirring (if invisible) fan sent tendrils of it washing over her, the scent swirling around her and enticing her forward. Stumbling blindly ahead, she made solid contact with a wall, made not of stone but of some thick, draped cloth. Following the lines of the drapery, her hand ran over a switch, and she froze. A voice hailed her from the darkness. “Go ahead, press it. We could all use a little light, you know." It was a friendly voice, with a hint of mischief about it. Still, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with turning on the lights. She took a deep breath and flicked the switch upwards.
Mercifully, the lights did not snap on all at once-her retinas would have disintegrated from strain. A series of glow panels slowly lit up, and then some sky-lights opened, showing her a scene that she wouldn't believe existed even in the luxuries of her plush mansion, let alone on this city-world.
What she had thought a cell was actually a massive room, with a floor of white marble, only the edge of which was visible under the thick rugs that lay on it. Piles of cushions were scattered about, and low, broad silk couches lined the walls and edged the ten large pools that were cut into the floor. A light steam rose from them and rolled along the floor, swirling around any solids it encountered. the walls, as she had discovered, were made of a thick, soft fabric, which hung in billows from golden cords and marble pillars, or else long silver rods between the columns. Bowls of exotic fruits and wine stood on holders throughout the place, and the exotic scent was revealed to be from the many braziers that puffed sedately from discreet alcoves. Trays of perfumes or makeup lay next to each couch, apparently at the disposal of their occupants-and it was the occupants that drew her attention the most.
Fully two dozen extremely pretty girls lounged on the rooms luxurious furnishings, or in the pools, or even on the thick carpeting. To a one, they seemed at once expectant, but also entirely at ease-one had not even stopped shaving. Most were sipping sedately at goblets of fine gold or crystal.
One couch in particular drew her eye. A sea of billowy blue silk, the four girls on it somehow seemed superior to the rest, and even while she waited one got up and walked gracefully over. She was extremely beautiful, with rich brown hair and a perfectly sized chest. "Welcome," the girl intoned, a grin threatening to break through to her face, "to our world." A flick of a wrist summoned one of her couchmates. "Jess, show her around and prepare her, please. The rest of you," she admonished, a smile now well in evidence, "Quit staring, its rude." The girl named Jess replied, "Of course, Your Highness," and bowed deeply. 'Her Highness' patted Jess on the back as she left, sliding down into the pool nearest her couch. she had not even bothered to undress-then again, Mefora realized, she didn't have to. Save for the collar necklace she wore about her neck, she had nothing to take off. A look around showed this to be the case with much of the room-except for the collars (apparently a popular decoration) few wore anything at all, none anything substantial.
A tug snapped her back to herself. Jess (herself dressed in little more than a panty) drew her away to a door behind some of the curtain walls. "C'mon, you need a makeover," Jess told Mefora. "You mean I'm going to have to dress like that?" she asked incredulously. "You call this dressed?" giggled Jess. "That's my point. Do I have to?" Jess sighed. It was like this with every new girl. "You'll get used to it." Mefora shrugged. After all, everyone else had.
Going through the door, they walked down a short tunnel and found themselves in a small, well appointed greenroom. A shower stall of fine crystal and gold trimming stood in one corner, and most of the remainder of the space was filled with an ordinary looking makeup counter. Mefora was struck by how unused everything looked.
"It's everlasting," Jess explained patiently, when Mefora commented on this. "The stuff never comes off, and so we never use it, except for new girls. That other bunch in the main room is just for fun." With a quick, skilled hand, she began to apply it. As she finished, Mefora snuck a peek at the mirror and gasped-the girl there looked nothing like the Morwillian noblewoman that had entered the harem. That girl was an Empress, a queen, and, somehow, a whore. Her dirty blond hair was now the color of auburn, her cheeks slightly flushed, her lips a deep, sensuous cherry color that perfectly matched her nails.
"Now for this," said Jess, as she gently pinched Mefora on the shoulder. "Into the shower, girl." She laughed playfully. Still unsure of herself, Mefora undressed (Jess covered her eyes) and got in, turning on a flood of warm water and rose petal scent. Jess gave her a minute, and then called through the door, "Ok, olive will be fine."
"What?" asked Mefora
"Here, I'll show you." With that, she opened the door and climbed in.
"Hey!" exclaimed Mefora, startled. "What're you in here for?"
"It'll just be a minute," Jess promised. Turning off the water, she began to work a measure of liquid from a pink bottle over Mefora's skin-all of her skin. Mefora couldn't help but balk as Jess' hands slid along and around her breasts.
"Is that necessary?" she asked, as Jess finished her bosom and began to work down towards her abdomen. The older girl was quite focused on her task, and seemed to be taking a great deal of care to make sure that she got the dye to cover Mefora's entire person. Her answer was a bit more clipped than usual.
"Yes. And, by the way, if you could give me a hand-" she indicated the bottle-"this would be a lot faster."
"Is it really that important?"
"You bet. It would look terrible if we were all different colors, right? The High Exalted One needs to look good in every way-and that means that we need to look good. C'mon, hurry up." At Jess' urgings, Mefora took a little of the stuff and gingerly began to rub it onto the folds around her entrance. Jess herself had moved on to her back, and the sense of her finger tips sent goosebumps rippling down Meforah's spine time and again. She noticed and paused, whispering in Mefora's ear,
"Hey! Loosen up, girl! It'll only be a minute more." Meforah could swear that she felt Jess kiss her as she said that. It wouldn't have been out of place.
After the last of the dye was applied to the space between her toes, Jess helped Mefora out of the shower. Both girls' clothes had been whisked away, as had the makeup, leaving the mirror sitting alone on the washstand. Jess pointed her to it and flicked on the bulbs that surrounded the glass.
Mefora gasped. Her skin, formerly pale from the weak, cold sun of her home planet, had deepened to a rich olive tone, complimenting the auburn mane that had somehow appeared out of her former brown locks. Cherry-red lips, dark eye-liner, and just a touch of blush completed the ensemble, all making for a girl that any Princeling would be ready to kill for. There was one thing missing, though.
"Jess, what am I going to have to wear?" she asked. Despite the manner that they had conducted themselves with in the shower, Mefora liked her modesty, and the thought of wearing what some of those girls had been was more than a little sickening. Jess just laughed.
"Here you go," she giggled, and pulled out a panel from the wall. It was hung with a number of different costumes, none of them remotely solid. Jess moved around to the other side of the rack and began to flick through them. Before long, she had made her decision.
"This one," she muttered with conviction, and brought it over. It was a rich turquoise, and had been fashioned to look like seaweed, with curling tendrils that flashed with silver highlights when it moved.
"Just in from Mon Calamari. It's supposed to be form fitting." said Jess as she pushed the shapeless mass into Mefora’s arms. Surprisingly, it felt not like seaweed but like smooth, light cloth. Mefora looked at it in surprise.
"It feels a bit-" she broke off. The strands had come to life, and now twisted themselves around her, forming a comfortable and very revealing one-piece costume. She noted with relief that they had thought to cover her breasts (sort of) and the small triangle between her legs (less so).
While this was happening, Jess had snapped open a drawer in the washstand and pulled out a pair of small, emerald-set earrings, a sheaf of gold thread, and an anklet. The jewelry, Jess explained would not come off until it was told, and the costume would work in the same way.
"And those are for?" Mefora asked. The thread still sat on top of the washstand, untouched.
"Oh, right," cried Jess. "I forgot. Her Highness would have been furious." Pulling the threads loose a few at a time, she began to weave them into Mefora's hair, skilled fingers flitting back and forth. In a few minutes, the thread was gone. "Right, now that'll be permanent, just like this," Jess said, holding up a metal collar. To Mefora's horror, it was irremovably affixed around her neck. "Jess, do I really need to wear that?" Mefora asked. Jess smiled. "Of course, it's the most important part! Don't worry, you'll soon treasure it," Jess answered. At least it seemed comfortable, and it's silver color matched her outfit. Jess beckoned her out of the makeup room.
"Come on, I'll show you around." she invited. Moving self-consciously, Mefora went with her.
This time, they did not re-enter the harem, but instead took a lift up to a floor that seemed to be entirely made of luxury bedrooms, each one seeming a mini-harem of it's own. Jess kept up a running commentary.
"These are the private rooms, of course, for the important or experienced slaves. You may notice the name plates on the doors." Looking around, Mefora noticed seven bedrooms. Three on each side, and one at the end of the hall. That one had a golden name plate with Amanda engraved on it. One of the others had Jess.
"Now, if we go down one floor-" they did-"we find the 'night rooms'. Part of our job is to chat up the people in court, and this is where we sleep if we are successful."
"You mean that-" Mefora spluttered, horrified.
"Yes. Get used to it-you really don't want to be the least bedded when inspection time comes." They entered the lift again. It stopped on a floor with dozens of closed, though probably comfortable, bed rooms. "These are where we sleep when we are not successful."
The lift went down again. "We don't really have enough rooms for everyone, so either double up or sleep in-" Jess stepped out of the lift and flung the door at the end of the hall open. "-here!"
They were back in the harem. Stepping out of the lift and opening the door, a chorus of cheering and congratulations greeted their arrival.
"Good one, Jess!"
"You've still got it!"
"Her Highness will be astounded-forget The High Exalted One!"
One girl in a pink and purple costume strode over and threw her arms about Jess. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, and kissed Jess full on the mouth. Jess responded with equal passion. Mefora goggled for a moment, and ten slipped away from the small crowd to wander among the harem's luxuries.
Finding an unoccupied corner of a pool, she slid in, a sigh of pleasure escaping her as the heated water enveloped her with a cloud of honey scent. Reaching behind her, she pulled a large globular fruit from a bowl and began to peel it. the Rind came away in a cloud of lemon-scented musk.
"Wise decision," said someone. Mefora looked up to see a lithe blueish Twi'lek behind her, sliding out of the nets that made up her costume. She cast them aside and dropped naked into the pool beside Mefora, twitching her lekku with enjoyment. A small tinkling filled the air-the lekku-tips had been pierced and hung with small bells. The human girl tugged away the last chunk of rind, pulling out the seed-pod with it and spraying a fine mist of juice into the air. Carefully separating a chunk of it, she popped it into her mouth, relishing in the explosion of sweetness on her tongue.
"You'll need some relaxation. Everyone does after her intro." The Twi'lek stretched out on the bench beside her, modelling bare, sensual curves to the fullest extent. One taloned hand dipped into the water and came up holding something. "Yours?"
"Oh, NO!" cried Mefora, dropping the fruit by the side of the pool. the limp mass in the alien's hand was her costume, now ruined. She grabbed it away, horrified-for no reason, as it turned out. The minute it touched her, the strands flew to life, wrapping about her limbs as if they had never come off. To make sure, she tugged on one. It unraveled, and the whole lot was set by the poolside. Reclaiming her snack, Mefora turned to the Twi'lek.
"What were you saying?"
"Everyone needs to settle in a bit. I only got here a few weeks ago myself, but it's not hard to get used to if you go with the flow," She pulled a handful of grapes from the bowl. "So, did they tell you about the games yet?"
"What games?"
"Oh, we have some friendly competitions now and then." She put an emphasis on the word friendly that made Mefora slightly suspicious, but she didn't say anything, just popped down the rest of the fruit. "By the way, I'm Yifa'toar. You?" The Twi'lek broke off, looking inquiringly at Mefora.
"Mefora Arless. So-what goes on around here?" she asked. Yifa's answer was cut short by an explosion of cheering at the other end of the pool. "Come on," she said, "Race you there." The two girls took off, and swam rapidly to the far edge. A sort of contest had broken out amongst a dozen or so of the girls. standing around one of the couches, a massive scarlet one, two girls at a time would pull each other down onto it and try to keep a liplock for as long as possible without coming up for air. Yifa and Mefora looked on in growing fascination as they watched some pairs go for nearly a minute wrapped up in each other. Mefora was shocked at how easily the girls here kissed other females, and with how much passion they did so with-thoughts that were unpleasantly interrupted by a strange sensation that suddenly flowed up her body. She wanted to do it too.
With a start, she realized that Yifa had looped a braintail around her shoulders and was slowly rubbing her thigh. By way of response, she slid a hand along the Twi'leks back, a row of goosebumps exploding in its wake. Yifa turned and gave her a look that set off a storm inside Mefora's stomach, and before she knew it they had clambered out of the pool to join those milling about near the couch.
In short order, the two of them were standing right at the edge of the 'playing area', and cheering with everyone else. A hand pressed into the small of her back, and Yifa whispered to her, "Come on, it's our turn!" They collapsed into the silken dunes, hugging each other tightly. Mefora pulled a sheet away from her face-and Yifa lunged forward from behind it. Their lips met, and she lost the ability to think of anything but the full form of the Twi'lek pressing into her stomach. sliding her tongue out, she met Yifa's halfway, the two doing a slow, delightful dance. It was an age before she remembered to breathe, and they broke apart, rolling off to the ecstatic squeals of the onlookers. Mefora, however, heard nothing but the thudding of her own heart. That was far too enjoyable for what it was.
"That was amazing!"
"A minute and a half!"
"Best time all day!"
"We won!" Yifa told her.
"I shouldn't have liked that. I've never liked that. But I did. Why?" Mefora asked. Yifa grabbed her hand.
"Come, I'll explain to you about your new life," she said. In one of the empty rooms upstairs, the two girls settled into a hot tub and Yifa started to talk. It was the same speech she herself had received upon her "initiation".
"In this place, we don't conform to traditional standards. This is a life concerned with pleasure, the High Exalted One's first, ours next. It doesn’t matter what we do-as long as someone enjoys it," she paused, "Thusly, you will instinctively enjoy whatever you do, whether or not you think you should. Its complicated but, well, you'll learn."
"I hope I do soon," grumbled Mefora, "That felt too weird."
"Well, then.." said Yifa, and suddenly caught her up in a hug, pressing them hard together. Her hands slid along Mefora's back, and the costume dropped away, joining the Twi'lek's on the bottom of the pool. Their lips met, and then Mefora slid a hand downward along Yifa's stomach, feeling her full form. Yifa clamped one hand across the back of Mefora's head, the other across her backside, and they both dissolved in bliss.
After an hour of amazing pleasure, Mefora and Yifa finally relaxed. Mefora, however, still had some questions.
"Look, Yifa, no one's really told me what my purpose is here. I don't know where I am, I don't know how long I'll be here, and I don't know who this High Exalted One is."
Yifa stared at her. "How do you not know who your new master is? Didn't you see the massive palace on your way in? How many people do you think it could be?"
"I don't know. I'm a Morwillian noblewoman who's only told about what happens on my planet. I don't know what goes on elsewhere, though there are some strange rumors of late."
"And what are these rumors?" Yifa asked. Mefora shrugged. "Just that the Empire has fallen and a new one has taken its place, nothing credible really," she said. Yifa leaned in. "And who rules this Empire?" Yifa questioned. "I don't know, my homeworld is very isolationist, but the rumors say he controls most of the galaxy, and that he's legally restarted the practice of slavery," Mefora answered.
Yifa grinned. "Yes he has. We're living proof of it!" Mefora paled. "Jess said that, but I didn't want to believe it. Why? What did I do wrong?" she asked. Yifa shook her head. "It's not what you did wrong, it's what you did right. Your new master has judged you of high enough beauty and character to be his slave girl," she explained. "So who is your master?" Mefora asked impatiently.
Yifa grinned. "Our master is the emperor himself, the ruler of the galaxy," she revealed. Mefora was stunned. "Why would someone like that be interested in me? For that matter, how did I even end up here?" Mefora cried. "You were probably captured during the scouting of your homeworld. It wasn't part of the last empire, so our master hasn't taken it yet. As for why he's interested in you, well.." Yifa said, stroking Mefora's breasts, "That should be obvious."
Mefora didn't know how to react. She had never liked her planet or her family, but she doubted her new occupation would be better. She sighed, "So, Yifa, what is your..." Yifa shook her head.... "Our master like. What kind of man is he?" Mefora asked. "Well, Mefora, our master isn't a man, or a human, for that matter," Yifa said. Mefora was relieved. "So that means I won't have to spend the night with him," she breathed, but Yifa immediately contradicted her.
"No, you will still have to pleasure him," she explained. Melina paled. "What species is he?" she asked, nervous. "Mefora, our master is...." Yifa didn't finish. "Who?" Mefora begged impatiently. "I can't say his name. I'm not worthy," Yifa said. "Just say it!" Mefora yelled. "Well, it is for the good of The High Exalted One, I guess I can spell it," Yifa offered. "J-A-B-B-A," Yifa began, saying one letter at a time, "T-H-E H-U-T-T," she finished.
"What! I'm enslaved to a Hutt?" Mefora cried. "Well, obviously, as they're the only ones who can have slaves in the new galactic order," Yifa explained. "Listen Yifa, I'm an aristocrat, not a slave. Jabba can't just take me like this. Surely someone on my planet will come looking for me," Mefora protested. Yifa shook her head. "No, in fact, he's allowed to take any girl he wants, regardless of her status. As for someone coming for you, I doubt it. Your planet has been untouched so far, but I bet it's being captured right now," at Mefora's look of horror, Yifa quickly added, "But few innocents die during the Hutt invasions. Our mater just wants the entire galaxy to experience the prosperity his empire brings."
"No! Yifa, I've seen a Hutt before when one visited my planet, they're the most vile things in the galaxy! I can't be enslaved by one!" Mefora protested. Yifa shook her head again. "Well, you are. Trust me, acceptance is always the first step in realizing your place." Mefora stared, this girl was nuts. "My..my place. What the hell are you talking about!" she demanded. "Well, what you will be for the rest of your life. You see...you are now a pleasure slave to The High Exalted One, who will serve him in any way he desires. You belong to The High Exalted One now," Yifa explained.
Mefora could not accept this. "No, I will not stay here! Why did this happen to me? All I've done is good throughout my life and now I'm a slave to a disgusting Hutt. Why?" she begged. "No, Mefora. You've got this all wrong, you're a lucky girl. I know it's hard to believe, but being a slave here is an incredible experience. You've seen the harem, you know how well we are treated here," Yifa began, but Mefora interrupted her, "Yes, I believe that, though I don't know why. But Jabba is still a Hutt, a disgusting, evil, Hutt!" she said.
"No, Mefora. You look upon our master as something to be reviled, but you couldn't be more wrong. Being a Hutt doesn't make him evil, it makes him a superior being. Hutts are far superior to any other species, and our master is the greatest of them all. You should be honored to serve him. He treats us very kindly, and in return we give him our loyalty," Yifa explained. Mefora started to protest, but Yifa cut her off. "I know what you're thinking, but pleasuring him isn't something to dread. after one night with him, you'll be praying every night that you are offered the chance to serve him alongside our Queen."
When Mefora did not respond, Yifa continued, "I know it's hard to accept, but you'll enjoy this life. You've seen our amazing harem, you know how happy your sisters are. There are no drawbacks to this life!" Mefora finally replied, "Yes there is. Even if Jabba, the harem, and sex here are as wonderful as you say, there is still the loss of freedom, the loss to do as you please," Mefora countered. Yifa laughed. It wasn't a cold, sadistic laugh, but a sweet, amused laugh.
"The thing about freedom? No one here misses it. Neither will you. You know the big harem door, that leads to the rest of the palace?" Yifa questioned. Mefora nodded. "Well, it's not locked. You know why? Because no one here wants to leave. There are twenty five girls here, and none of them prefer freedom to this. How can you refute that. You have been given the chance to be one of us and live a happy, care-free life. Embrace it!"
Mefora considered this. Two dozen girls lived here, and all of them were happy. was it really possible? To give up her stressful life as am aristocrat and embrace a life of pleasure. Could she really become a slave. A happy, willing, slave; and enter a life of pleasure? If what Yifa said was true, it seemed to be an attractive way of living. Yifa seemed to read her mind. "Yes. Join us. Accept your master's protection from a cold, hard galaxy. You know this is where you belong," Yifa said.
Yifa began to lean forward. Her eyes were closed and her lips were pursed for a kiss. Mefora knew that, somehow, accepting that kiss would seal the deal. She would be accepting her life as a slave and embracing her passions, which had been repressed for twenty-two years during her life as an aristocrat. Time seem to slow as Mefora pursed her own lips and began to lean forward as well. How she wanted that kiss! Wanted to release her passions!
They were interrupted by the door being pushed open. An entirely naked girl strode in, and beckoned them out of the pool. "Come on down, and quick. We are having a meeting," she said, then spun on her heel and strode out. Yifa scowled, but led Mefora out of the room and into the lift. She pushed the '1' button and the lift went down.
As they came out of the lift, they were quickly drawn into a conference. The girl in the pick and purple costume who had kissed Jess earlier was addressing all the other girls.
"Her Highness’s birthday is tomorrow, so we need to think of something to celebr-" and the wall disappeared. Mefora never saw what happened next; a bolt of blue energy surrounded her and drew her towards the hole.
The wall had not really disappeared though, as much as was vaporized. A single starship hovered in its place, sucking the new girl in like a snack. As she disappeared inside, a man slowly strode out of it and leapt the two feet to the floor. He was wearing a suit of armor, like none of them had seen, and spoke in a low growl.
"Tell your master he owes me something," he ordered, and returned to his ship. The thing's engines glowed, and it streaked up and away.
One girl spoke. "Boba Fett!," she sounded shocked, and, as Yifa turned to her, fainted.
Yifa'toar
It had been three days since the disastrous strike on the harem. While the wall had been rebuilt and the general spirit of things restored, the slaves had been seeing more and more problems around the palace. One of the pools had simply evaporated one night, leaving an empty hollow in the floor. The water had been replaced, but it was still unnerving. The delivery of fresh fruits had been late. The court itself was uneasy, as if danger lurked everywhere.
Of course, the biggest clue was the harem queen herself: she had come sobbing into the room one afternoon, long before the High Exalted One normally released her, and was finally convinced to tell the rest what had happened. In short, distraught bursts, she had revealed that the High Exalted One had forbade her to pleasure him, for fear of injuring her out of anger.
The reactions amongst the girls had varied. Some sat as if expecting to be shot at any moment. Others went about with a forced air of cheer. Still others, such as Yifa, were simply too shocked to do much. Lying in one of the harem pools, she simply kept seeing the scene over and over, watching her friend disappear in a beam of blue light. So entranced was she by the memory that she didn't even notice her queen coming before she called out, "Girls! Listen up!" Looking around, she spotted Leia, who seemed quite happy about something. As her subjects gathered around her, she began to explain.
"I have just been with the High Exalted One," she said, with obvious delight, "And he has asked us to help catch the usurper that attacked us and took one of our sisters. We are to spread word of much reward amongst the court and listen for any rumors we may, in addition to our duties. Are there any questions?" No one raised their hand, and after a minute, the queen said, "Excellent. Lets' practice, then. We want to be in top form tonight."
The court reopened in grand style, with food, drinks, and spice in abundance, and some of the best routines that the girls had ever put on drawing wave after wave of applause. The musicians were likewise startling, and Jabba was quickly surrounded by many admiring courtiers. Inquiries about the closures were laughed away. Everything was fine, they were told.
Yifa, though not dancing, did her best with the role she had been given. Clad in a shimmering, skin-tight layer of silvery cloth, she cozied her way around the visitors, keeping her ears open for any hint of the bounty hunter.
However, her efforts were fruitless-the man had proven as elusive to the rest of the galaxy as he had to Jabba's hired army, and no one had seen him for months. This distressed Yifa greatly. She wanted her friend back.
She was cozying up to a big, male Twi'lek, one of the mercenaries, when a shout of "SCILENCE!!" boomed from the throne. A tall being with six arms stepped to the center of the floor, and bowed low.
"Mighty One, I have brought you the head of your enemy," it said, and unfolded one of its hands. The helmet it had been holding clattered to the floor, prompting shocked gasps from the girls. They had all seen it before.
Jabba chuckled loudly, and then waved off his henchmen.
"Put it there," he ordered, pointing next to the plinth that had held Han Solo. The two guards bent for the helmet-and were suddenly blown back from it. Of it's own accord, the thing rose from the floor, and began to speak in a measured tone.
"Hello, partner," it began, filling the title with scorn. "You still owe me. The harem was only the beginning. If I do not receive payment, more will follow. For instance..." a light on the visor flashed. Below the floor, the rancor's gate slid open and the beast fell out, sporting a massive black eye and clearly stunned. "And one more thing-if this had been a thermal detonator, you would be-" and at that point, one of the guards recovered enough to blast the thing out of the air.
The entire world of the harem had been thrown into disarray. The girls had been told to avoid the main floor, the queen had adopted a distant, uninterested air toward everything, and the whole place seemed far too tense to be good. As such the day of the canyon races, unenclosed, massive pod races, couldn't seem to come soon enough.
Beginning on the fiftieth level of the palace, racers would maneuver the twenty-kilometer course through the city’s mountains and valleys of Nal Hutta at breathtaking speeds, drawing thousands of spectators, millions of credits in bets, and the very finest the racing world had to offer. Naturally, of course, Jabba would preside over all of this, and so his entire retinue of slaves accompanied him to the palace balcony when the day came. The girls had worked out a new routine to be performed before the races, and every slave was excited for the spectacular event.
Walking toward the balcony, Yifa guessed what this was all about. Their dance would be a statement to the rest of the galaxy: We are enslaved by Jabba and love it. We are happy to serve him. He is an excellent master and an excellent emperor. Yifa didn't care though. What was the harm in sending an underlying statement if it was completely true? As they emerged onto the platform, a quarter of a kilometer around, a roar of cheering greeted them. This was good. It signaled that the galaxy was beginning to accept the Hutt practice of owning slaves. and a spectacular light show began, provided by the force fields surrounding the big ferrocrete slab. Huge floating stands had been set up all around the massive palace. It was beyond anything Yifa had ever imagined.
The dance kicked off, and as expected, the girls were in top form. Every eye in the enormous crowd followed each move as it grew wilder and more suggestive, culminating in the Queen's solo performance, which had the crowd on its feet in the first five seconds. She danced around, beautiful, graceful, and intense. As she finished, Jabba called for silence, and his girls retreated to the throne.
"Let the race..." he began. Engines flashed to life. Pit crews raced for cover.
"BEGIN!" Jabba gestured. Yifa watched as the twenty-odd racers shot off-except one. One single pod caught an unstart, and, with a wild twist, came in at the bottom of the stands, aiming for the repulsor-lift generators. It never arrived.
In a blaze of laser fire, the pod disintegrated, and a small starship dropped down in front of the palace balcony. Its hatch opened, and two figures walked out-and, apparently, through the shields. The voice from the helmet boomed out.
"In regard, Partner, for this mornings readjustment of assets, I have something to return to you."
Yifa looked away from the starship. The two figures were from the harem. One was a girl she had known in passing, called Mara. The other...
"Mefora! You're BACK!" she cried as the girls reached the throne. A massive group hug followed, and the race was totally forgotten.
Len Marela
How the harem entertains itself-and others.
It was well after practice time, and so the girls were lounging in hot baths or on the couches, soaking up the harems luxury. They had finished entertaining the afternoon court, and now were enjoying each others' company in the usual manner.
Len in particular was having fun. She had never been very good at the tickle game, but joined in with a will, generally to shriek with laughter as soon as her opponent reached her bare (then again, all of her was, for the most part) stomach. Due to her less-than-agile- build, she had never been much of a dancer (by the harem standard), but was easily the one of the most experienced pleasure slaves there.
As she pulled away from yet another loss, gasping for air, Len rolled onto the floor and saw a pair of feet dressed in silk slippers coming towards the couch. Standing, she caught sight of Amanda, the harem mistress, with a bemused look on her face. She watched for a moment, and then clapped for attention, bringing the game to a (sort of) halt.
"Girls, we need to prepare for a rather special event," she began. "There is going to be a rather large convention of the more important beings in various fields in this Palace in a few months. It is indescribably important that we be ready to help our master make the best possible impression. He stands to lose or gain quite a bit here, so no slacking, from anyone."
The harem quickly became a bustle of activity, but Len, being a pleasurer and not a dancer, mainly just sat by the side, until a tap on her head made her turn. Her friend, a young girl called Tina around the harem, was standing there. The two were easily the best pleasure pair in the palace, next to Leia and Amanda, and possibly Jess and Lyn Me, but Len and Tina were actually best friends, not just lovers. Besides, the other pairs were generally reserved for the Hutts, and never had visitors come to them.
"Want to 'practice'?" grinned Tina, pulling off her skimpy bikini. Len shot a smile back at her, and then tore her costume away and dragged her onto the futon. The two quickly spiraled into sensual bliss, and only dragged themselves apart to head to the pool. They had about five minutes of fun, and then were called out for a sort of roll call that took place before each performance. The girls would be told by their Queen who was to do what, and for how long.
"Her Royal Highness!" the mistress, Amanda, called. The milling slaves immediately knelt, and Leia entered, dressed in her new silver, gem studded costume, which covered rather a lot less than it might have. The bottom half had been reduced to little more than a single triangle of silver with a massive ruby set in it, and the top was a thin band of twisting silver wire, supporting two elegant silver blossoms that had been festooned with rubies of their own. It was worth more than most beings had ever seen. She looked at the girls for a moment, and then began to speak.
"Most of you already know your jobs, so this won't take too long. However, one more thing has just come up-the High Exalted One will be touring some of his holdings soon. as I and some others will be going with him-" she said this with obvious pride-"Amanda will be in charge for a week or so. Now, as for tonight, there is one small change from normal. Third and fourth shift dancers, you will be switching routines. I have decided it will look better on everyone," she gestured at the studio end, indicating that the two shifts in question should make sure they knew their new assignments. They did, of course-but practice never hurt anyone.
"You will practice your new routines now," Amanda ordered, "Anything less than perfection will be met with consequences." Amanda then shook her head, as if to clear it. A weird look had appeared in her eyes, then it disappeared. "Right, you heard her," said Leia, though she eyed Amanda wearily. This wasn't like her. Len went over to watch the dancers practice.
Throughout the whole erotic routine, Amanda stalked the edges of the mats. Every once and a while she would harshly criticize a dancer, with a weird look in her eyes. Amanda constantly shook her head, as if to clear it. Len wondered-she had been like this briefly after the horrid kidnaping, but that had passed-right?
Tina slid down onto her futon. "I'm beat. Want to go for a swim?" Len shook her head. "Tina, what's wrong with the Mistress?"
"What? the way she's acting? Nerves," the other slave explained. As she talked, she slowly slid Len's bra up. Len flopped down against her, saying, "If so, I hope it's over soon. It's annoying," Tina slowly began to lick the now-exposed nipple, but paused to say, "Me too," before returning to her task. Len cupped a hand behind her head, and then slid the other between her legs, feeling the warmth there. She dug her fingers in lightly, noticing how Tina jerked when she did, and transferred her mouth to the other side of Lens chest.
"OH!!" Len squealed. Tina had hit some sort of sweet spot, and was flicking at it again and again. By total reflex, Len balled her hands-and in doing so brought Tina over her brink, with Len following a second later. By the time the pair had resurfaced, they had to leave for court.
In the throne room, the pleasure slaves were quickly 'deployed' throughout the side areas and bars, while the dancers had a final warm-up in a green room behind the throne. Len, working the right-hand side as usual, scored quickly-a large, muscular Corellian was standing there, and took an immediate interest. She was quite on her game, and soon had the man fetching her drinks for the evening-one of the perks of a pleasurer, but then, the dancers rarely seemed to need them. Before long, they retreated to a night room, and fell into the fullest joys of love before dropping into a warm, deep sleep. Len, at least, was satisfied-this was her job, after all, and she was happy to see it well done.
She woke early the next morning, and left through the hidden door to the harem, her catch still asleep behind her. She slid into one of the pools, tossing her costume aside, and then slowly began to snack on some of the fruit in a nearby bowl, marveling at how quiet everything was, even though she could already hear some people moving about upstairs. Waiting for some of them to appear, she lay back, watching the fog that sometimes came into the harem from somewhere.
submitted by Slippery_Dancer180 to jabbaleia [link] [comments]

A Break in Monotony

"Due tonight, or you'll never need to come back here again" my boss told me before heading back to his office. A tall tower of filed documents leaned on the wall of my cubicle, emitting a foreboding sense of dread and helplessness.
I wanted to say something. Like maybe along the lines of I’m no damn robot!! sending the pile of papers flying.
But of course, I couldn't do it. I just let out a sigh, stood up from my chair and headed to the vending machine. This was going be a long night, I needed all the caffeine I could get…
Working an office job isn't an occupation I'd relate to "Reaching my dreams!". Doing paperwork while being inside a box was one thing, being in a group of people who barely knew my name would be the straw that broke the dreaming camel's back. With fatigue and self-loathing coming together with the short and awkward conversations, it felt as though I never left college.
At the start of everyday, I would get up from bed, get dressed, eat whatever leftovers I had in the fridge and then head out. Where I'd go down to the same building to do the same damn job. After a long shift of hunching over a computer, it was time to go back home. Then repeat everything.
Other people would make things a lot easier, but friends were hard to come by. Oddly enough, none of them lived anywhere near my apartment. Walking home with someone was as rare as me cooking food I actually liked.
As a result, motivation ranged from Oh god, not another day of this! to simply Do people even know I exist? The monotony of the day-in and day-out work cycle seeping away whatever life energy I had.
Cutting the pretentious crap aside, I was getting sick of my life. I wasn't asking to be a multi-millionaire, I just wanted something more exciting to happen. At the very least, a good change of pace to make things feel less like purgatory.
Something to break the monotony in my life…
Holding a can of "HI-Octane Caffeine", I slipped a bill in the vending machine and pressed the button for a snack. The metal spring slowly twisted. Much like someone spitting me on the face, it stopped halfway, forgetting to dispense the candy bar I paid for.
“Of course…” I mumbled to myself.
Before I turned away, I saw a certain somebody hitting the machine with her fist. The treat inside got unstuck and fell down with a resounding THUD!
"Trouble with the vending machine again?" Tina asked, one of the receptionists and one of the only people that talked to me on a daily basis.
“Yeah, can't catch a break today" I reached down and took the candy bar. "Thanks"
"Don't mention it, I'm always down for some vandalism every now and then" I hoped to god that wasn’t true.
"Tim and Catherine already out?" I asked.
She nodded. "You know how they are” she said. "They're probably at the bar right now, drinking as much cherry pop cocktails they could afford"
"Ah, I see…" Why haven't you joined them? I thought of asking her.
We both met around our second year of college. We only saw each other in one or two subjects. I only got to spend more time with her when we were part of this study group. She constantly asked me for help in Statistics, and we pretty much got along after that.
Out of everyone in that group—hell, out of everyone in all my classes—she seemed to be the only person I found myself feeling attached to.
Imagine my surprise when I happened to spot the same short and short-haired gal in a receptionist uniform when I applied. She was pretty ecstatic that day, and honestly, so was I.
"What about you? Any of your friends still around in the office?" she asked. I fell silent. I could only give her a look that said what I couldn’t. “Max…you’re kidding?”
I wished I was, but I could only shrug and look away.
“You’re pulling off an all-nighter again? By yourself?!”
I slowly nodded. “Afraid so…”
“You cannot be serious! You’re gonna kill yourself over a bunch of papers?”
“Not like I have a choice, Carlos said that I shouldn’t bother coming back if I go home without all of ‘em finished” I popped open the can of coffee and took a sip. “Besides, I think I’m getting used to it by now” though I wish I never needed to in the first place.
“But this is the fourth time in a row this week! Are you sure you don’t wanna…ya know? Do something about this?” she asked, following me as I walked back to my cubicle.
“Do what? File a complaint?”
“Yes, you have the right to do that!”
“I don’t know if I could” I said, a little ashamed of how spineless it sounded.
“And why not?”
“T-too complicated,” I lied. “And really, I can handle this!” I lied again…
“Max, that’s not…ugh, never mind” she groaned. “Still, you shouldn’t do all of this by yourself… Or hey! Maybe, I can help you”
“No, I don’t wanna keep you here because of me” as much as I appreciated her company, I didn’t want her to suffer along with me. “Go, I’ll be fine, really…this is my job after all. I chose to be here…”
Her hand fell on my shoulder, stopping me in place. I turned to her, a genuine look of concern on her face. “Max, I…just don’t overwork yourself. You’re not some superhuman who can take on the same crap everyday. You deserve a good break every now and then too” A cold shiver washed over me, feeling the sting of those words. Same crap everyday
“I know…” I replied, turning away.
“If it’s Carlos you’re worried about, we could tell HR some news about him…” she vaguely suggested.
I looked back, and she flashed me with a warm smile. A happy smile that I couldn’t help but be drawn to for years…
“I-I don’t think that’s necessary” I stammered.
“Aw, come on! I mean, if push comes to shove, we can just tie him up and throw him down in a lake”
“Please don’t do that” much like vandalism, I prayed to the heavens she’d never do that.
“Relax! I was only kidding” she said, punching me on the shoulder.
We both chatted on for a little while longer, until I got back to my cubicle. We managed to kill an additional fifteen minutes, talking about last year’s Christmas Party. Soon enough, I managed to convince Tina to go home…all by her lonesome. I was willing to come with her, walk her home, even if we lived far away from each other. If it wasn’t for my job on thin ice, I’d go the extra mile. And if I lost my job, what would stop us from drifting apart completely?
“Well…I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow then” Tina stated.
I nodded, sitting back down on the office chair. “Yeah, thanks for keeping me company”
She gave me an awkward shrug. “N-no problem, hehe”
She turned around and started walking back down the hall. “Have a safe night, and good luck”
I smiled and waved at her as she went…
There was something at the back of my mind that I’ve been meaning to ask her…
A question that could lead to the break in the cycle that I’ve been looking for…
“Uh, hey! Tina!” I called out to her.
She stopped midway, turning back towards me. “Yeah? What is it Max?”
Something that I had been wanting to ask her for a long time now…
“I…uh…” it was on the tip of my tongue. I just needed to force it out, take a step away from my comfort zone, finally say the words. “Y-you have a safe night too!” and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it…
She gave me another smile before saying “Thanks!” and continuing her way down the hall. “Goodnight Max!” her voice echoed as she left.
A big, long sigh of disappointment escaped my lips. “You blew it Max, way to go…”
There I was, sitting at the office chair that became more and more uncomfortable with every minute and hour. Typing away as if it wasn’t 1am in the morning. The caffeine had did its job…but in an ironic twist, a strange feeling of paranoia began to manifest within me. Being alone in that building suddenly hitting me.
The irrational fear soon subsided as another hour rolled by. Along with the energy I had. 2:32am, still there, working and still wishing I had a better backbone for myself to finally say something to my boss.
Somewhere down the line, I thought about Tim and Catherine, out drinking in a karaoke bar, singing the hit singles of the 90’s and early 2000’s, generally having a great time. Just like Tina had told me…eventually, I thought about Tina herself.
I wondered if she was already home, or maybe she decided to catch up with her two coworkers. Thinking about her smiling and happy made me feel a little better. At least she was having fun…
I began to wonder if she would even consider going out with a loser like me. A lonely slob who was somehow fine with going through the same crap everyday; ate the same microwaved breakfast, dressed the same stupid clothes for work, and took in whatever annoying task my boss had to give me.
Yet another hour passed, and my eyes grew heavier with each key I typed. Everything seemed to slow down, no matter how hard I tried to quicken the pace, it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere anymore.
My arms were tired, my legs were numb, everything in my body felt cold…
Typing…
Tabulating…
I had to be awake…
I opened my eyes, the faint sunlight coming in from a slit between the blinds of the windows. I looked around, trying to recall the reason I wasn’t in my semi-comfortable bed…
Eventually, I remembered…
The urge to go back to sleep held a tight grip on me. I thought better of it, and reluctantly stood up, shaking the grogginess out of my system.
My stomach suddenly groaned in hunger. I needed to eat. I didn’t even bother checking on my laptop. That was a nightmare I was willing to put off for now.
The building was deserted. At least from the floor that I was on. There should be at least a janitor or someone from the maintenance crew coming in; if they had already, then seeing my passed out self must not have made them flinch. That, or they didn’t care at all.
My footsteps echoed in the dim hallway. That dreaded vending machine being the only source of light, other than the covered-up windows. The lighting made the long walk feel a lot more ominous than it was.
I walked towards it…but then decided to go for the one downstairs instead. I did not want to waste five dollars over fault machinery…again. Besides, I might finally see another person, maybe even chat with them if I was lucky.
Much to my dismay however, the elevator was still out. Thankfully, the door to the stairway was unlocked. The same stairs where I last saw Tina the other night…the same stairwell where I stopped her and almost asked her out, but didn’t.
Despite being in the office at the early hours right after sunrise, it still felt like I was stuck in this godforsaken loop. This was not the kind of break I was looking for. If you can even call it that.
I let out a yawn as I got down to the ground floor of the building. It was still 6:28am, a little early for any of my coworkers to come in.
Despite this, I heard somebody opening the front doors.
Going to the main lobby, I just missed someone entering the receptionist’s office. Someone with long grey hair…a bit odd. I never really knew anyone, at least people that had business with that particular office, with that shade of dark-grey on their heads.
My stomach roared with anguish again, and I had to switch my focus back to what I was doing. I figured it was nothing anyway; maybe Catherine trying out different hairstyles again or whatever.
The vending machine was tucked into a corner right beside one of the waiting area’s couches. The sight of it gave me a feeling of comfort for some reason. Maybe it was because this one didn’t have a reputation to eat my money more than I ate the snacks it had.
But…right as I inserted the five dollar bill, it spat it back out. Letting out an automated voice that I never heard before.
Please insert only the corresponding bills into the slot, thank you!
My brow furrowed in confusion “What the hell…?” I tried it again, but still, it refused.
The oddities seem to just continue on from there. Looking at the items inside the machine, they looked like your standard everyday candy bars and other branded snacks…but taking a closer inspection told me otherwise. Odd names such as “Mulchy Grass-Chips”, “Worm-O-Bars” or “Sperry Energy Brick: Xtra Fishy flavored”.
I slowly backed away, the familiar machine now looking like an otherworldly contraption trying to blend in with everything. A feeling of uneasiness settled in, along with utter confusion.
Just then, I heard the sound of a door opening behind me…
A couple of footsteps rang out before the person stopped abruptly, letting out a surprised gasp.
“Uh…Hey, does the vending machine look weird to you?” I asked. I turned around, hoping to meet a familiar face and help me…
Instead, it just made things a whole lot worse…
The person in front of me was definitely not Catherine, or any other employee I knew. Or human for that matter.
The eyes…
Two large and wide green eyes with only black slits as pupils. Reminiscent to the gaze of a cat. Deadly looking fangs protruded from her mouth, which was currently hanging agape. Fluffy and pointed ears sat atop of her head, with long and thin whiskers from the cheekbones. Claws extending slightly out of each finger of her human-like digits. A lighter shade of grey on all of the short fur that covered her face, neck, hands and legs. With her dressed in a business uniform that hid the rest of her body; blue coat, red tie, and a black pencil-cut skirt.
I was petrified, unable to move or think of what to do next. Was this a dream? It had to be. What the hell was I seeing?! The concept of being mauled to death by this outlandish creature made my legs tremble. She stood on the spot. Unmoving and unblinking as I was.
I extended my shaky index finger and pointed at the creature. “What…what are you?!”
As soon as the words left my mouth, she let out a blood-curdling scream! The shrill voice cracking as she frantically backed away. She stopped midway, grasping for what looked like a large notebook behind the receptionist desk. Raising it in in the air, she screamed again and threw it directly at me.
I raised my arms and managed to block the notebook from my face. Before I could run, I felt a barrage of different office supplies hitting me. Pens, more notebooks, a clipboard, even a desk lamp, shattering on the floor.
Just as I thought it was over, I could hear the doors behind me opening. “Isabelle! What’s wrong?! We heard you…” a deep voice behind me trailed off.
I heard another high-pitched scream, coming face to face with three more unnatural creatures dressed in formal business attires. The short one who was currently screaming and pointing at me had orange hair (and fur), squinty eyes, and a long snout similar to that of a fox. Another one was behind her, tall, full of feathers, a long pointed beak, and a puffy arm that was holding what looked like a phone that kept flashing and accompanied with faint Clicks! as she did.
The last person, there really was no better way to describe it. It was a bear! A bear dressed in a business coat and slacks! A shocked and angry looking one at that!
All of them kept staring at me, making me feel like I was the foreign entity in the room…
The bear stomped aggressively towards me. “What did you do to Isabelle?!” he shouted, leaning closer and towering over me in height and size. I could see the rows of scary-looking teeth he bore. I felt the need to answer, to tell whatever the hell this thing was that I didn’t do jack crap to anyone named “Isabelle”. But my throat went dry.
“I-I…” I tried to tell him. Despite the modern and civilized attire he had on, the predatory gaze, the blaring of his teeth, and the overall menacing killer features were still there…
Without warning, it grabbed me by the collar and raised me up in the air. “What did you do?! W-what even are you?!”
I could see the fox run up to the bear before grabbing him by the arms. “Greg! Calm down!!” it pleaded. “Put him down!!”.
Finally, he did let me go, and immediately, I booked it. Running off to the opposite direction. With the group of animal people still blocking the entrance, I headed back up the stairs in a frantic sprint.
I didn’t know where I was going, I just wanted a place to stop, be safe, and think. I came running back to my cubicle…but seeing the entire office made it impossible for me to clear my mind. My eyes darted everywhere, spotting each alarming difference made me shiver. The printers, PC’s and other equipment looked normal, but many of them were either a few sizes too short or too big. In fact, the room was a lot more spacious than I remembered! Even my familiar cubicle, the same one I woke up in, not only did it not have my laptop nor the stack of folders my boss had given me, but the normally bleak and bland space I owned was now plastered with different motivational posters and random photos. How the hell did I not see any of this?!
I ran to the bathroom, seeing the larger and wider stalls at the end of the room making me even more dizzy. “I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m DREAMING!!” I shouted at my reflection. I splashed cold water on my face, slapped myself multiple times, but still, the minute but incredibly concerning differences were present. A tall toilet here, a short sink and mirror there, Eucalyptus scented toilet paper. It all still felt like I was in a strange funhouse for children, the sizes and shapes of everything being exaggerated.
I managed to at least keep myself calm enough to comprehend everything. No matter how hard I tried to push the thought down, what I was experiencing at that very moment was no dream. Whatever building I found myself standing on, it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. All those things outside, however…that was a lot harder to accept.
I kept my eyes on my reflection. “You can do this, you can do this…you can do this…” I kept repeating.
After a while, I realized that staying there wouldn’t really do anything for me. I decided to leave the bathroom, then just figure things out from there. My hand was back on the knob of the door, the cold metal bringing me that sense of familiarity, while seeing how big the door was reminded me of how surreal the entirety of the situation was. With another deep breath, I turned the knob and stepped outside.
Everything was quiet. I walked toward the windows and pulled the blinds open to get a glimpse of the environment outside.
The city had changed. Immediately, I saw a billboard with the words “Glam-Fur Moisturizer” above a group of slender but still very hairy figures with tails. On the corner of it, were the words “Best in New Randall Jarellonia!”
New Randall Jarrellonia? I found myself repeating in my head. Is that the name of this place?
It sounded like a town, or a city more than anything else. Especially with the buildings that surrounded the billboard. From that height, I was able to look at the other citizens walking around…
All of them were animals. Tall birds with beaks and feathers, hairy mammals with fluffy tails and ears, scaly reptiles with large bodies and mouths. I could correlate each and every one of them to some other species in the animal kingdom, accompanied with clothes from modern day fashion. Not a single trace of a definite human being…
I tried to rationalize things. Come up with a good explanation to what I was experiencing. And the most logical thing I could come to still made me feel like I was going insane. After going through everything I witnessed and experienced, it wasn’t that the world I lived in had changed to look like that, but rather I was somewhere different entirely…
Crazy as it sounded, I was somehow in a completely different world.
One that had wild animals walking, talking and even working like people. If that were true, then it would mean I was the oddity, not them. I was the one who was invading the mundane tranquility they were accustomed to…
I was the one who gave them the break in the monotonous cycle of everyday living…
Why me?
Why me, of all people? Sure, I was a guy who desperately needed something different to happen in his life, but I never expected to be transported to another world! A new girlfriend, a freaking promotion, new coworkers that actually talked to me!
Ding! I heard a familiar elevator reaching the designated floor. The sounds of heavy footsteps following after it.
I was soon face to face with a group of tall people wearing dark black suits; most of them seem to bear the snout of a grey hound or wolf, each of them having their own set of shades covering their eyes.
One of them stepped forward, eyeing me up and down for a few seconds. He turned to the rest of the crowd, nodding. “Right, bring him in” he said nonchalantly.
He pulled out something from inside his coat. A slender and shiny tool, the shape telling me that it was something along the lines of a gun. Before I could react, he pulled the trigger and I felt something sharp pricking my arm.
I cried out. Looking down, I saw a tiny dart now embedded through the sleeve.
Instinctively, I pulled it out. I looked back up and saw three of them walking towards me. I tried to run, but my legs felt numb. I could feel their arms grabbing both of mine, carrying me away while I lost control over my body.
Going in and out of consciousness, I felt myself being lied down on a stretcher.
“…W-what cha gonna do with ‘em?” I heard someone ask.
“I’m afraid that’s classified ma’am”
“Okay…what do we do…“ the voice trailed off.
“We’ll make sure none of this ever happened”
A sudden shock ran through my wrists, jolting me awake with a yelp. From my hazy vision, I could barely comprehend the new room that I found myself in. Boxed in, with flat grey walls, with lights lining the corners and ceiling. I looked down, seeing my hands and feet attached to a chair with metal clamps. I tried forcing them loose, but they wouldn’t budge.
“It’s no use, tried doin’ that for a while now…” a familiar feminine voice said. I looked towards the sound, a blurry figure that soon cleared up, revealing to be the very first face I came across. “Howdy, hehe…” the grey-furred cat lady said nervously. She too was on a chair similar to mine on the other side of the room.
An instinctual feeling of dread came to me, seeing the impossible creature before me. But looking at her closely, her sharp green eyes now taking on a tired and worried expression, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy.
“Not much of a talker, aren’t ya?” she suddenly asked. “It’s all right…I was feelin’ frazzled mahself when I woke up and saw you. I-I mean! No offense er anythin’…” she apologized.
“N-none taken…” I said, ending with a nervous chuckle.
Silence filled the cold unnatural air. Lasting for a few minutes. Something mechanical whirring faintly behind the walls, bringing back the feeling of fear and unease at the lack of context to everything. As scary as it was, knowing that there had been another person with me helped me calm down. Even if that said person was covered in fur.
“Mister, I-I think we got on the wrong foot today” she announced. “I admit, I feel really terrible fer…throwing things at ya…”
“How long have we even been here?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know…been an hour er so since I woke up, but…I ain’t too sure” she replied. “Listen, I’m really sorry ‘bout earlier…my name’s Isabelle, what’s yours?”
“Max, and it’s okay…guessing you don’t have a lot of people like me, huh?” I asked her. She shook her head. Of course, I already knew that. “Heh, figures…it’s nice to meet you, but I admit, I can hardly call being here a pleasant experience” I joked.
She laughed at that. “Yeah, I-I get what’cha mean…why do you think they’re keeping us here?” she asked.
“I don’t know, probably has something to do with me, that’s for sure…” I said grimly.
We talked for a while. Mostly about who I was and where I came from. It was hard to explain how the mundane in my life worked; even if it was eerily close to what her world considered as normal.
When it came to family, I could see a distinct shift in her mood. She began to tell me about her life back at the farm in the country. Reminiscing on a few memories here and there.
“Haven’t seen ‘em in a while. Oh, just thinkin’ about uncle Jared’s pumpkin pie is makin’ mah mouth water, hehe” she recounted. “…I can’t imagine how worried they must be right now. Ma and pa must be shoutin’ at the fellers at the police station, tellin’ ‘em to go look for me…if they even know that I’m gone”
“…Sorry to hear that” I told her.
“It’s fine, it’s fine…”
Another awkward silence filled the room, this time, it felt like I was the one who needed to say something. “Honestly, where I’m from, it’s…pretty boring,” I started. She asked me why, and I regretted opening up the topic. But I stuck to it, and elaborated…next thing I knew, I was telling her everything.
From the boring routine of wake up, go to work, get back home, sleep and repeat, to the fact that I haven’t made a single move to change things. “Worst part is, I don't really have anyone to blame but myself. I never took any risks, always stayed in my comfort zone, only doing things out of it when I really need to. Because of that, I just kept on waiting, and waiting for my life to get more exciting, going with the flow and crap like that…until I finally realized that I'm still doing the same routine for years now"
“Don’t you have anyone that you care about?” she asked me. “Someone that makes it feel like you ain’t in this darn loop?”
I was going to tell her no, I didn’t have anyone like that…but then, I remembered Tina.
“There’s…there’s this one girl at work, she’s a receptionist too, oddly enough…” I started. “Short hair, cute eyes, likes kicking things…I never really know why she stuck around with me. But she does, practically the only one who talks to me on a daily basis, makes fun of my hair, tells me to get out more…the one person that makes me want to be someone more than just…this”
“…She sounds like a nice person” she said.
I nodded. “Whenever I’m with her…things don’t seem all that bad” I added. “Or m-maybe I’m just being overdramatic about this”
“Mister, I don’t think so” she replied. “From what you told me, you and Tina…What you and this girl have, it ain’t just somethin’ ya get everyday. It’s a lot more special”
I shifted in my seat as best as I could. It was obvious what she was implying for me to do…
“Do you think she’ll go for a loser like me?”
“I think she cares for ya all the same” she told me, without a second thought. “Willin’ to bet that she’s just waitin’ for ya to ask her, hehe”
I felt my lips gave way to a smile. Deep down, there was a part of me that wanted to believe at the thought of that. Only covered by my own self-loathing. Hearing it upfront however, I could see that there was no point in denying it. And never in a million years would I expect to hear that from someone like Isabelle.
“Say, what’s her name anyways?” she asked me.
“Her name’s Tina, and god, do I miss her…”
She let out a short laugh. “Tina, huh?”
“Why? What’s so funny?”
“Sorry, it’s just…that’s my lil’ sister’s name too, ain’t that a funny coincidence?”
I found myself laughing too. It was odd. Despite everything about her appearance spelling the fact that she wasn’t human in any sense of the word, I was able to relate to a lot of the things she had told me, and as did her. I was glad to have met her.
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Out of nowhere, a series of sirens filled the room. A red blinking light keeping in tune with the panic-inducing sound.
“W-what’s goin’ on?!” Isabelle shouted.
“I don’t know! I-I don’t know!!” I shouted back.
To my right, I noticed the wall suddenly parting at the middle, forming a short opening similar to that of a door. A line of tall dark figures came in, clad in ballistic armor. They made their way towards Isabelle. I could hear her, shouting something before she got cut off, one of them injecting something in her arm. Moments later, she was knocked out.
“Isabelle?! Isabelle!!” I shouted. They ignored me, and proceeded to free her from the chair. “What are you doing to her?!” I demanded.
“Put her to sleep,” I heard another feminine voice answer me. I felt a cold brushy hand touch my forearm. “I assure you, she’ll be fine. Can’t say she’ll remember you though” I turned to my left, and saw what looked to be a rabbit dressed in a lab coat.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Back to her life, within the city limits. With all due time, she and the others that had the chance of meeting you shall wake up in their beds. Thinking this was all just some crazy fever dream” she explained to me. “And soon, you’ll be doing the same”
I let out a yelp of pain, feeling the needle in my arm. Almost immediately, I started feeling dizzy.
“Finally, this experiment is over. If it were up to me, I’d have you dissected” I heard her say, before my eyes fell shut.
Crying. She was crying. And she sounded…familiar. It was her, it was her!
I opened my eyes, beside me, there she was. Blurry and hard to make out, but I knew it was her. “Tina…?” I tried to say, but all that came out was a gravelly whisper.
She stopped crying. “Max? Max!” I could hear her say. She stood up and started running across the room. I tried moving my head, my vision soon returning to normal. I soon realized that I was in a hospital, feeling the IV tube in my left hand.
“So, you’re finally awake” a foreign voice asked. It was a tall man, dressed in a black suit, looking to be at his 40’s. My head throbbed in pain as I tried to sit upright. “I suggest you don’t move too much” he told me.
“Who are you…?” I asked him, regaining my voice slowly.
He leaned in close. “Nobody, just someone who’s glad to see you here, that’s all” he said ominously. “Welcome back, mister Howe” after he gave me the strange message, he left. A doctor and a nurse going in afterwards, with Tina in suit.
They asked me a lot of questions, most of them I couldn’t even answer myself. All that I could remember was that I pulled out another all-nighter at work, and the rest was a blur…at least, for now. Oddly enough, the doctors didn’t seem to mind at all. As if they were more relieved that I didn’t remember anything.
As for Tina, she was quite the opposite. I’ve never seen her cry, at least not this much. And I felt bad for her, but I was glad to have her there with me. Telling me everything that she knew before she heard about me being confined at the hospital. A coworker of mine found me apparently, practically lifeless. He called an ambulance, and for half the day, I was asleep. When she first heard of this, she immediately ran out of her house, not caring about her shift coming in a few hours.
She told me she was worried about me, hated me for not listening to her…hated herself for not convincing me to leave. I told her it wasn’t her fault, that I really should’ve just gone home myself. Thankfully, I managed to get her in good spirits in the end.
“I’ll be back tomorrow” Tina promised me, as she needed to get home.
I was confined to the hospital for two more days, most of my problems stemming from me practically working myself to death. After Tina left, things just got quiet. Hours passed by. The TV in my room letting me watch old reruns of the show “Hey-Hey-Harold”.
All the while, there existed a lingering thought at the back of my mind. One that bugged me throughout the night. Like there was something I was forgetting…
“Oh, her name makes me swoon just thinking about it! It practically spells Grace when you hear it!” the lovable oaf Harold exclaims.
“So? What’s her name?” his roommate Ethan asked him.
“I just told you, it’s Grace” the laugh track plays, dragging me along with it. I was a sucker for stupid jokes.
“Grace, huh? Hehe”
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, just…that’s my little sister’s name too”
“Huh, ain’t that a funny coincidence?”
I felt my heart skipping a beat, my eyes widening at the sound of those two lines. There was no joke, nothing funny to hear or be seen, but it stuck with me for a while…
Until finally, things started to piece back together again.
Isabelle… I muttered to myself.
As time went by, memories started coming back. Thinking about them feeling like I was desperately trying to recreate a dream, one that become clearer and weirder with each passing moment.
Every thought started with either a Why? or a How? Why was I back? Why could remember everything? How was I even here again? If it wasn’t for the vivid images in my head, I would’ve thought that it was all just one crazy acid trip.
Worst part was, who was I going to tell it to? Those people…those animals. Terrifying as they were in my eyes, I couldn’t help but think about Isabelle. I wondered what was happening to her now. I found myself worried for a while, but if what that rabbit woman said was true, she should be back to where she belonged…only question was, did she remember me? As I did her?
My mind drifted back to what she had told me. What you and this girl have, it ain’t just somethin’ ya get everyday. It’s’ a lot more special…
“And that’s how I lost to Catherine at poker that day” Tina concluded. A story that…I honestly can’t remember much. All I remember is that I nodded to that last statement, my mind busy. “You even listening?” she asked, as if she had read my mind. “Something on your mind?”
Normally, I would’ve said that it was nothing, or make up something else entirely. “There’s a new cafe in town, right?” I asked. “The one with the syringe straw thingies?”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t know, why’d you ask?”
“Well, once I get back home, I was thinking…maybe you wanna go out there sometime?
The confused look she gave me dissolved to a more shocked expression. Her eyes widening as her face grew red. “You…you did not just do what I think you did?” she asked nervously.
I shrugged. “I mean, if you’re up for it”
I felt a warm hand clasp around mine. “Don’t be stupid,” she scolded. “Of course I’m up for it”
submitted by StrangeStorylines to nosleep [link] [comments]

Breaking the Monotony

"Due tonight, or you'll never need to come back here again" my boss told me before heading back to his office. A tall tower of filed documents leaned on the wall of my cubicle, emitting a foreboding sense of dread and helplessness.
I wanted to say something. Like maybe along the lines of I’m no damn robot!! sending the pile of papers flying.
But of course, I couldn't do it. I just let out a sigh, stood up from my chair and headed to the vending machine. This was going be a long night, I needed all the caffeine I could get…
Working an office job isn't an occupation I'd relate to "Reaching my dreams!". Doing paperwork while being inside a box was one thing, being in a group of people who barely knew my name would be the straw that broke the dreaming camel's back. With fatigue and self-loathing coming together with the short and awkward conversations, it felt as though I never left college.
At the start of everyday, I would get up from bed, get dressed, eat whatever leftovers I had in the fridge and then head out. Where I'd go down to the same building to do the same damn job. After a long shift of hunching over a computer for hours, it was time to go back home. Then repeat everything.
Other people would make things a lot easier, but friends weren't as abundant as I would like. And oddly enough, none of them lived anywhere near my apartment. Walking home with someone was as rare as me cooking food I actually liked.
As a result, motivation ranged from Oh god, not another day of this! to simply Do people even know I exist? The monotony of the day-in and day-out work cycle seeping away whatever life energy I had.
Cutting the pretentious crap aside, I was getting sick of my life. I wasn't asking to be a multi-millionaire overnight, I just wanted something more exciting to happen. At the very least, a good change of pace to make things feel less like a miserable purgatory.
Just something to break the monotony in my life…
Holding a can of "HI-Octane Caffeine", I slipped a bill in the vending machine and pressed the button for a snack. The metal spring slowly twisted. Much like someone spitting me on the face, it stopped halfway, forgetting to dispense the candy bar I paid for.
“Of course…” I mumbled to myself.
Before I turned away, I saw a certain somebody hitting the machine with her fist. The treat inside got unstuck and fell down with a resounding THUD!
"Trouble with the vending machine again?" Tina asked, one of the receptionists and one of the only people that talked to me on a daily basis.
“Yeah, can't catch a break today" I reached down and took the candy bar. "Thanks"
"Don't mention it, I'm always down for some vandalism every now and then" I hoped to god that wasn’t true.
"Tim and Catherine already out?" I asked.
She nodded. "You know how they are” she said. "They're probably at the bar right now, drinking as much cherry pop cocktails they could afford"
"Ah, I see…" Why haven't you joined them? I thought of asking her.
We both met around our second year of college. We only saw each other in one or two subjects. I only got to spend more time with her when we were part of this study group. She constantly asked me for help in Statistics, and we pretty much got along after that.
Out of everyone in that group—hell, out of everyone in all my classes—she seemed to be the only person I found myself feeling attached to.
Imagine my surprise when I happened to spot the same short and short-haired gal in a receptionist uniform when I applied. She was pretty ecstatic that day, and honestly, so was I.
"What about you? Any of your friends still around in the office?" she asked. I fell silent. I could only give her a look that said what I couldn’t. “Max…you’re kidding?”
I wished I was, but I could only shrug and look away.
“You’re pulling off an all-nighter again? By yourself?!”
I slowly nodded. “Afraid so…”
“You cannot be serious! You’re gonna kill yourself over a bunch of papers?”
“Not like I have a choice, Carlos said that I shouldn’t bother coming back if I go home without all of ‘em finished” I popped open the can of coffee and took a sip. “Besides, I think I’m getting used to it by now” though I wish I never needed to in the first place.
“But this is the fourth time in a row this week! Are you sure you don’t wanna…ya know? Do something about this?” she asked, following me as I walked back to my cubicle.
“Do what? File a complaint?”
“Yes, you have the right to do that!”
“I don’t know if I could” I said, a little ashamed of how spineless it sounded.
“And why not?”
“T-too complicated,” I lied. “And really, I can handle this!” I lied again…
“Max, that’s not…ugh, never mind” she groaned. “Still, you shouldn’t do all of this by yourself… Or hey! Maybe, I can help you”
“No, I don’t wanna keep you here because of me” as much as I appreciated her company, I didn’t want her to suffer along with me. “Go, I’ll be fine, really…this is my job after all. I chose to be here…”
Her hand fell on my shoulder, stopping me in place. I turned to her, a genuine look of concern on her face. “Max, I…just don’t overwork yourself. You’re not some superhuman who can take on the same crap everyday. You deserve a good break every now and then too”
A cold shiver washed over me, feeling the sting of those words. Same crap everyday
“I know…” I replied, turning away.
“If it’s Carlos you’re worried about, we could tell HR some news about him…” she vaguely suggested.
I looked back, and she flashed me with a warm smile. A happy smile that I couldn’t help but be drawn to for years…
“I-I don’t think that’s necessary” I stammered.
“Aw, come on! I mean, if push comes to shove, we can just tie him up and throw him down in a lake”
“Please don’t do that” much like vandalism, I prayed to the heavens she’d never do that.
“Relax! I was only kidding” she said, punching me on the shoulder.
We both chatted on for a little while longer, until I got back to my cubicle. We managed to kill an additional fifteen minutes, talking about last year’s Christmas Party. Soon enough, I managed to convince Tina to go home…all by her lonesome. I was willing to come with her, walk her home, even if we lived far away from each other. If it wasn’t for my job on thin ice, I’d go the extra mile. And if I lost my job, what would stop us from drifting apart completely?
“Well…I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow then” Tina stated.
I nodded, sitting back down on the office chair. “Yeah, thanks for keeping me company”
She gave me an awkward shrug. “N-no problem, hehe”
She turned around and started walking back down the hall. “Have a safe night, and good luck”
I smiled and waved at her as she went…
There was something at the back of my mind that I’ve been meaning to ask her…
A question that could lead to the break in the cycle that I’ve been looking for…
“Uh, hey! Tina!” I called out to her.
She stopped midway, turning back towards me. “Yeah? What is it Max?”
Something that I had been wanting to ask her for a long time now…
“I…uh…” it was on the tip of my tongue. I just needed to force it out, take a step away from my comfort zone, finally say the words. “Y-you have a safe night too!” and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it…
She gave me another smile before saying “Thanks!” and continuing her way down the hall. “Goodnight Max!” her voice echoed as she left.
A big, long sigh of disappointment escaped my lips. “You blew it Max, way to go…”
There I was, sitting at the office chair that became more and more uncomfortable with every minute and hour. Typing away as if it wasn’t 1am in the morning. The caffeine had did its job…but in an ironic twist, a strange feeling of paranoia began to manifest within me. Being alone in that building suddenly hitting me.
The irrational fear soon subsided as another hour rolled by. Along with the energy I had. 2:32am, still there, working and still wishing I had a better backbone for myself to finally say something to my boss.
Somewhere down the line, I thought about Tim and Catherine, out drinking in a karaoke bar, singing the hit singles of the 90’s and early 2000’s, generally having a great time. Just like Tina had told me…eventually, I thought about Tina herself.
I wondered if she was already home, or maybe she decided to catch up with her two coworkers. Thinking about her smiling and happy made me feel a little better. At least she was having fun…
I began to wonder if she would even consider going out with a loser like me. A lonely slob who was somehow fine with going through the same crap everyday; ate the same microwaved breakfast, dressed the same stupid clothes for work, and took in whatever annoying task my boss had to give me.
Yet another hour passed, and my eyes grew heavier with each key I typed. Everything seemed to slow down, no matter how hard I tried to quicken the pace, it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere anymore.
My arms were tired, my legs were numb, everything in my body felt cold…
Typing…
Tabulating…
I had to be awake…
I opened my eyes, the faint sunlight coming in from a slit between the blinds of the windows. I looked around, trying to recall the reason I wasn’t in my semi-comfortable bed…
Eventually, I remembered…
The urge to go back to sleep held a tight grip on me. I thought better of it, and reluctantly stood up, shaking the grogginess out of my system.
My stomach suddenly groaned in hunger. I needed to eat. I didn’t even bother checking on my laptop. That was a nightmare I was willing to put off for now.
The building was deserted. At least from the floor that I was on. There should be at least a janitor or someone from the maintenance crew coming in; if they had already, then seeing my passed out self must not have made them flinch. That, or they didn’t care at all.
My footsteps echoed in the dim hallway. That dreaded vending machine being the only source of light, other than the covered-up windows. The lighting made the long walk feel a lot more ominous than it was.
I walked towards it…but then decided to go for the one downstairs instead. I did not want to waste five dollars over fault machinery…again. Besides, I might finally see another person, maybe even chat with them if I was lucky.
Much to my dismay however, the elevator was still out. Thankfully, the door to the stairway was unlocked. The same stairs where I last saw Tina the other night…the same stairwell where I stopped her and almost asked her out, but didn’t.
Despite being in the office at the early hours right after sunrise, it still felt like I was stuck in this godforsaken loop. This was not the kind of break I was looking for. If you can even call it that.
I let out a yawn as I got down to the ground floor of the building. It was still 6:28am, a little early for any of my coworkers to come in.
Despite this, I heard somebody opening the front doors.
Going to the main lobby, I just missed someone entering the receptionist’s office. Someone with long grey hair…a bit odd. I never really knew anyone, at least people that had business with that particular office, with that shade of dark-grey on their heads.
My stomach roared with anguish again, and I had to switch my focus back to what I was doing. I figured it was nothing anyway; maybe Catherine trying out different hairstyles again or whatever.
The vending machine was tucked into a corner right beside one of the waiting area’s couches. The sight of it gave me a feeling of comfort for some reason. Maybe it was because this one didn’t have a reputation to eat my money more than I ate the snacks it had.
But…right as I inserted the five dollar bill, it spat it back out. Letting out an automated voice that I never heard before.
Please insert only the corresponding bills into the slot, thank you!
My brow furrowed in confusion “What the hell…?” I tried it again, but still, it refused.
The oddities seem to just continue on from there. Looking at the items inside the machine, they looked like your standard everyday candy bars and other branded snacks…but taking a closer inspection told me otherwise. Odd names such as “Mulchy Grass-Chips”, “Worm-O-Bars” or “Sperry Energy Brick: Xtra Fishy flavored”.
I slowly backed away, the familiar machine now looking like an otherworldly contraption trying to blend in with everything. A feeling of uneasiness settled in, along with utter confusion.
Just then, I heard the sound of a door opening behind me…
A couple of footsteps rang out before the person stopped abruptly, letting out a surprised gasp.
“Uh…Hey, does the vending machine look weird to you?” I asked. I turned around, hoping to meet a familiar face and help me…
Instead, it just made things a whole lot worse…
The person in front of me was definitely not Catherine, or any other employee I knew. Or human for that matter.
The eyes…
Two large and wide green eyes with only black slits as pupils. Reminiscent to the gaze of a cat. Deadly looking fangs protruded from her mouth, which was currently hanging agape. Fluffy and pointed ears sat atop of her head, with long and thin whiskers from the cheekbones. Claws extending slightly out of each finger of her human-like digits. A lighter shade of grey on all of the short fur that covered her face, neck, hands and legs. With her dressed in a business uniform that hid the rest of her body; blue coat, red tie, and a black pencil-cut skirt.
I was petrified, unable to move or think of what to do next. Was this a dream? It had to be. What the hell was I seeing?! The concept of being mauled to death by this outlandish creature made my legs tremble. She stood on the spot. Unmoving and unblinking as I was.
I extended my shaky index finger and pointed at the creature. “What…what are you?!”
As soon as the words left my mouth, she let out a blood-curdling scream! The shrill voice cracking as she frantically backed away. She stopped midway, grasping for what looked like a large notebook behind the receptionist desk. Raising it in in the air, she screamed again and threw it directly at me.
I raised my arms and managed to block the notebook from my face. Before I could run, I felt a barrage of different office supplies hitting me. Pens, more notebooks, a clipboard, even a desk lamp, shattering on the floor.
Just as I thought it was over, I could hear the doors behind me opening. “Isabelle! What’s wrong?! We heard you…” a deep voice behind me trailed off.
I heard another high-pitched scream, coming face to face with three more unnatural creatures dressed in formal business attires. The short one who was currently screaming and pointing at me had orange hair (and fur), squinty eyes, and a long snout similar to that of a fox. Another one was behind her, tall, full of feathers, a long pointed beak, and a puffy arm that was holding what looked like a phone that kept flashing and accompanied with faint Clicks! as she did.
The last person, there really was no better way to describe it. It was a bear! A bear dressed in a business coat and slacks! A shocked and angry looking one at that!
All of them kept staring at me, making me feel like I was the foreign entity in the room…
The bear stomped aggressively towards me. “What did you do to Isabelle?!” he shouted, leaning closer and towering over me in height and size. I could see the rows of scary-looking teeth he bore. I felt the need to answer, to tell whatever the hell this thing was that I didn’t do jack crap to anyone named “Isabelle”. But my throat went dry.
“I-I…” I tried to tell him. Despite the modern and civilized attire he had on, the predatory gaze, the blaring of his teeth, and the overall menacing killer features were still there…
Without warning, it grabbed me by the collar and raised me up in the air. “What did you do?! W-what even are you?!”
I could see the fox run up to the bear before grabbing him by the arms. “Greg! Calm down!!” it pleaded. “Put him down!!”.
Finally, he did let me go, and immediately, I booked it. Running off to the opposite direction. With the group of animal people still blocking the entrance, I headed back up the stairs in a frantic sprint.
I didn’t know where I was going, I just wanted a place to stop, be safe, and think. I came running back to my cubicle…but seeing the entire office made it impossible for me to clear my mind. My eyes darted everywhere, spotting each alarming difference made me shiver. The printers, PC’s and other equipment looked normal, but many of them were either a few sizes too short or too big. In fact, the room was a lot more spacious than I remembered! Even my familiar cubicle, the same one I woke up in, not only did it not have my laptop nor the stack of folders my boss had given me, but the normally bleak and bland space I owned was now plastered with different motivational posters and random photos. How the hell did I not see any of this?!
I ran to the bathroom, seeing the larger and wider stalls at the end of the room making me even more dizzy. “I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m DREAMING!!” I shouted at my reflection. I splashed cold water on my face, slapped myself multiple times, but still, the minute but incredibly concerning differences were present. A tall toilet here, a short sink and mirror there, Eucalyptus scented toilet paper. It all still felt like I was in a strange funhouse for children, the sizes and shapes of everything being exaggerated.
I managed to at least keep myself calm enough to comprehend everything. No matter how hard I tried to push the thought down, what I was experiencing at that very moment was no dream. Whatever building I found myself standing on, it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. All those things outside, however…that was a lot harder to accept.
I kept my eyes on my reflection. “You can do this, you can do this…you can do this…” I kept repeating.
After a while, I realized that staying there wouldn’t really do anything for me. I decided to leave the bathroom, then just figure things out from there. My hand was back on the knob of the door, the cold metal bringing me that sense of familiarity, while seeing how big the door was reminded me of how surreal the entirety of the situation was. With another deep breath, I turned the knob and stepped outside.
Everything was quiet. I walked toward the windows and pulled the blinds open to get a glimpse of the environment outside.
The city had changed. Immediately, I saw a billboard with the words “Glam-Fur Moisturizer” above a group of slender but still very hairy figures with tails. On the corner of it, were the words “Best in New Randall Jarellonia!”
New Randall Jarrellonia? I found myself repeating in my head. Is that the name of this place?
It sounded like a town, or a city more than anything else. Especially with the buildings that surrounded the billboard. From that height, I was able to look at the other citizens walking around…
All of them were animals. Tall birds with beaks and feathers, hairy mammals with fluffy tails and ears, scaly reptiles with large bodies and mouths. I could correlate each and every one of them to some other species in the animal kingdom, accompanied with clothes from modern day fashion. Not a single trace of a definite human being…
I tried to rationalize things. Come up with a good explanation to what I was experiencing. And the most logical thing I could come to still made me feel like I was going insane. After going through everything I witnessed and experienced, it wasn’t that the world I lived in had changed to look like that, but rather I was somewhere different entirely…
Crazy as it sounded, I was somehow in a completely different world.
One that had wild animals walking, talking and even working like people. If that were true, then it would mean I was the oddity, not them. I was the one who was invading the mundane tranquility they were accustomed to…
I was the one who gave them the break in the monotonous cycle of everyday living…
Why me?
Why me, of all people? Sure, I was a guy who desperately needed something different to happen in his life, but I never expected to be transported to another world! A new girlfriend, a freaking promotion, new coworkers that actually talked to me!
Ding! I heard a familiar elevator reaching the designated floor. The sounds of heavy footsteps following after it.
I was soon face to face with a group of tall people wearing dark black suits; most of them seem to bear the snout of a grey hound or wolf, each of them having their own set of shades covering their eyes.
One of them stepped forward, eyeing me up and down for a few seconds. He turned to the rest of the crowd, nodding. “Right, bring him in” he said nonchalantly.
He pulled out something from inside his coat. A slender and shiny tool, the shape telling me that it was something along the lines of a gun. Before I could react, he pulled the trigger and I felt something sharp pricking my arm.
I cried out. Looking down, I saw a tiny dart now embedded through the sleeve.
Instinctively, I pulled it out. I looked back up and saw three of them walking towards me. I tried to run, but my legs felt numb. I could feel their arms grabbing both of mine, carrying me away while I lost control over my body.
Going in and out of consciousness, I felt myself being lied down on a stretcher.
“…W-what cha gonna do with ‘em?” I heard someone ask.
“I’m afraid that’s classified ma’am”
“Okay…what do we do…“ the voice trailed off.
“We’ll make sure none of this ever happened”
A sudden shock ran through my wrists, jolting me awake with a yelp. From my hazy vision, I could barely comprehend the new room that I found myself in. Boxed in, with flat grey walls, with lights lining the corners and ceiling. I looked down, seeing my hands and feet attached to a chair with metal clamps. I tried forcing them loose, but they wouldn’t budge.
“It’s no use, tried doin’ that for a while now…” a familiar feminine voice said. I looked towards the sound, a blurry figure that soon cleared up, revealing to be the very first face I came across. “Howdy, hehe…” the grey-furred cat lady said nervously. She too was on a chair similar to mine on the other side of the room.
An instinctual feeling of dread came to me, seeing the impossible creature before me. But looking at her closely, her sharp green eyes now taking on a tired and worried expression, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy.
“Not much of a talker, aren’t ya?” she suddenly asked. “It’s all right…I was feelin’ frazzled mahself when I woke up and saw you. I-I mean! No offense er anythin’…” she apologized.
“N-none taken…” I said, ending with a nervous chuckle.
Silence filled the cold unnatural air. Lasting for a few minutes. Something mechanical whirring faintly behind the walls, bringing back the feeling of fear and unease at the lack of context to everything. As scary as it was, knowing that there had been another person with me helped me calm down. Even if that said person was covered in fur.
“Mister, I-I think we got on the wrong foot today” she announced. “I admit, I feel really terrible fer…throwing things at ya…”
“How long have we even been here?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know…been an hour er so since I woke up, but…I ain’t too sure” she replied. “Listen, I’m really sorry ‘bout earlier…my name’s Isabelle, what’s yours?”
“Max, and it’s okay…guessing you don’t have a lot of people like me, huh?” I asked her. She shook her head. Of course, I already knew that. “Heh, figures…it’s nice to meet you, but I admit, I can hardly call being here a pleasant experience” I joked.
She laughed at that. “Yeah, I-I get what’cha mean…why do you think they’re keeping us here?” she asked.
“I don’t know, probably has something to do with me, that’s for sure…” I said grimly.
We talked for a while. Mostly about who I was and where I came from. It was hard to explain how the mundane in my life worked; even if it was eerily close to what her world considered as normal.
When it came to family, I could see a distinct shift in her mood. She began to tell me about her life back at the farm in the country. Reminiscing on a few memories here and there.
“Haven’t seen ‘em in a while. Oh, just thinkin’ about uncle Jared’s pumpkin pie is makin’ mah mouth water, hehe” she recounted. “…I can’t imagine how worried they must be right now. Ma and pa must be shoutin’ at the fellers at the police station, tellin’ ‘em to go look for me…if they even know that I’m gone”
“…Sorry to hear that” I told her.
“It’s fine, it’s fine…”
Another awkward silence filled the room, this time, it felt like I was the one who needed to say something. “Honestly, where I’m from, it’s…pretty boring,” I started. She asked me why, and I regretted opening up the topic. But I stuck to it, and elaborated…next thing I knew, I was telling her everything.
From the boring routine of wake up, go to work, get back home, sleep and repeat, to the fact that I haven’t made a single move to change things. “Worst part is, I don't really have anyone to blame but myself. I never took any risks, always stayed in my comfort zone, only doing things out of it when I really need to. Because of that, I just kept on waiting, and waiting for my life to get more exciting, going with the flow and crap like that…until I finally realized that I'm still doing the same routine for years now"
“Don’t you have anyone that you care about?” she asked me. “Someone that makes it feel like you ain’t in this darn loop?”
I was going to tell her no, I didn’t have anyone like that…but then, I remembered Tina.
“There’s…there’s this one girl at work, she’s a receptionist too, oddly enough…” I started. “Short hair, cute eyes, likes kicking things…I never really know why she stuck around with me. But she does, practically the only one who talks to me on a daily basis, makes fun of my hair, tells me to get out more…the one person that makes me want to be someone more than just…this”
“…She sounds like a nice person” she said.
I nodded. “Whenever I’m with her…things don’t seem all that bad” I added. “Or m-maybe I’m just being overdramatic about this”
“Mister, I don’t think so” she replied. “From what you told me, you and Tina…What you and this girl have, it ain’t just somethin’ ya get everyday. It’s a lot more special”
I shifted in my seat as best as I could. It was obvious what she was implying for me to do…
“Do you think she’ll go for a loser like me?”
“I think she cares for ya all the same” she told me, without a second thought. “Willin’ to bet that she’s just waitin’ for ya to ask her, hehe”
I felt my lips gave way to a smile. Deep down, there was a part of me that wanted to believe at the thought of that. Only covered by my own self-loathing. Hearing it upfront however, I could see that there was no point in denying it. And never in a million years would I expect to hear that from someone like Isabelle.
“Say, what’s her name anyways?” she asked me.
“Her name’s Tina, and god, do I miss her…”
She let out a short laugh. “Tina, huh?”
“Why? What’s so funny?”
“Sorry, it’s just…that’s my lil’ sister’s name too, ain’t that a funny coincidence?”
I found myself laughing too. It was odd. Despite everything about her appearance spelling the fact that she wasn’t human in any sense of the word, I was able to relate to a lot of the things she had told me, and as did her. I was glad to have met her.
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Out of nowhere, a series of sirens filled the room. A red blinking light keeping in tune with the panic-inducing sound.
“W-what’s goin’ on?!” Isabelle shouted.
“I don’t know! I-I don’t know!!” I shouted back.
To my right, I noticed the wall suddenly parting at the middle, forming a short opening similar to that of a door. A line of tall dark figures came in, clad in ballistic armor. They made their way towards Isabelle. I could hear her, shouting something before she got cut off, one of them injecting something in her arm. Moments later, she was knocked out.
“Isabelle?! Isabelle!!” I shouted. They ignored me, and proceeded to free her from the chair. “What are you doing to her?!” I demanded.
“Put her to sleep,” I heard another feminine voice answer me. I felt a cold brushy hand touch my forearm. “I assure you, she’ll be fine. Can’t say she’ll remember you though” I turned to my left, and saw what looked to be a rabbit dressed in a lab coat.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Back to her life, within the city limits. With all due time, she and the others that had the chance of meeting you shall wake up in their beds. Thinking this was all just some crazy fever dream” she explained to me. “And soon, you’ll be doing the same”
I let out a yelp of pain, feeling the needle in my arm. Almost immediately, I started feeling dizzy.
“Finally, this experiment is over. If it were up to me, I’d have you dissected” I heard her say, before my eyes fell shut.
Crying. She was crying. And she sounded…familiar. It was her, it was her!
I opened my eyes, beside me, there she was. Blurry and hard to make out, but I knew it was her. “Tina…?” I tried to say, but all that came out was a gravelly whisper.
She stopped crying. “Max? Max!” I could hear her say. She stood up and started running across the room. I tried moving my head, my vision soon returning to normal. I soon realized that I was in a hospital, feeling the IV tube in my left hand.
“So, you’re finally awake” a foreign voice asked. It was a tall man, dressed in a black suit, looking to be at his 40’s. My head throbbed in pain as I tried to sit upright. “I suggest you don’t move too much” he told me.
“Who are you…?” I asked him, regaining my voice slowly.
He leaned in close. “Nobody, just someone who’s glad to see you here, that’s all” he said ominously. “Welcome back, mister Howe” after he gave me the strange message, he left. A doctor and a nurse going in afterwards, with Tina in suit.
They asked me a lot of questions, most of them I couldn’t even answer myself. All that I could remember was that I pulled out another all-nighter at work, and the rest was a blur…at least, for now. Oddly enough, the doctors didn’t seem to mind at all. As if they were more relieved that I didn’t remember anything.
As for Tina, she was quite the opposite. I’ve never seen her cry, at least not this much. And I felt bad for her, but I was glad to have her there with me. Telling me everything that she knew before she heard about me being confined at the hospital. A coworker of mine found me apparently, practically lifeless. He called an ambulance, and for half the day, I was asleep. When she first heard of this, she immediately ran out of her house, not caring about her shift coming in a few hours.
She told me she was worried about me, hated me for not listening to her…hated herself for not convincing me to leave. I told her it wasn’t her fault, that I really should’ve just gone home myself. Thankfully, I managed to get her in good spirits in the end.
“I’ll be back tomorrow” Tina promised me, as she needed to get home.
I was confined to the hospital for two more days, most of my problems stemming from me practically working myself to death. After Tina left, things just got quiet. Hours passed by. The TV in my room letting me watch old reruns of the show “Hey-Hey-Harold”.
All the while, there existed a lingering thought at the back of my mind. One that bugged me throughout the night. Like there was something I was forgetting…
“Oh, her name makes me swoon just thinking about it! It practically spells Grace when you hear it!” the lovable oaf Harold exclaims.
“So? What’s her name?” his roommate Ethan asked him.
“I just told you, it’s Grace” the laugh track plays, dragging me along with it. I was a sucker for stupid jokes.
“Grace, huh? Hehe”
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, just…that’s my little sister’s name too”
“Huh, ain’t that a funny coincidence?”
I felt my heart skipping a beat, my eyes widening at the sound of those two lines. There was no joke, nothing funny to hear or be seen, but it stuck with me for a while…
Until finally, things started to piece back together again.
Isabelle… I muttered to myself.
As time went by, memories started coming back. Thinking about them feeling like I was desperately trying to recreate a dream, one that become clearer and weirder with each passing moment.
Every thought started with either a Why? or a How? Why was I back? Why could remember everything? How was I even here again? If it wasn’t for the vivid images in my head, I would’ve thought that it was all just one crazy acid trip.
Worst part was, who was I going to tell it to? Those people…those animals. Terrifying as they were in my eyes, I couldn’t help but think about Isabelle. I wondered what was happening to her now. I found myself worried for a while, but if what that rabbit woman said was true, she should be back to where she belonged…only question was, did she remember me? As I did her?
My mind drifted back to what she had told me. What you and this girl have, it ain’t just somethin’ ya get everyday. It’s’ a lot more special…
“And that’s how I lost to Catherine at poker that day” Tina concluded. A story that…I honestly can’t remember much. All I remember is that I nodded to that last statement, my mind busy. “You even listening?” she asked, as if she had read my mind. “Something on your mind?”
Normally, I would’ve said that it was nothing, or make up something else entirely. “There’s a new cafe in town, right?” I asked. “The one with the syringe straw thingies?”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t know, why’d you ask?”
“Well, once I get back home, I was thinking…maybe you wanna go out there sometime?
The confused look she gave me dissolved to a more shocked expression. Her eyes widening as her face grew red. “You…you did not just do what I think you did?” she asked nervously.
I shrugged. “I mean, if you’re up for it”
I felt a warm hand clasp around mine. “Don’t be stupid,” she scolded. “Of course I’m up for it”
submitted by StrangeStorylines to IsekaiWorkshop [link] [comments]

100 Weapons that can Talk and their Personalities.

Thank you to all the contributors!
Contributors: u/MaxSizels u/cheddarsnail u/jyscwfirestarter u/apple_of_doom u/tomcAt67 u/rollinthundaga u/PsiBandGuy u/begeara u/camtarn u/joryho u/valetria u/McFirn u/spycrab_unlicensed u/jediporg12 u/macadeku u/Graytis u/riventitan u/insert_title_here u/saucememer u/Owlbear_Camus
  1. Ryu- katana forged by high elves that only speaks in haikus.
  2. Pierre- a knife that was once a chef. Gives cooking tips to the player.
  3. Katherine- a maul that's personality is the last person killed with it. The current personality is a level 5 human fighter named Katherine.
  4. Rudolph- a greatsword pacifist. Refuses to attack foes but gives wielder +1d6 AC for one turn if the wielder hadn't used an attack or spell that turn.
  5. Axton- a greataxe and family man with a loving wife and two kids.
  6. Axetette- a greataxe and loving wife of Axton.
  7. Axton Jr- handaxe and son Axton and Axetette.
  8. Axella- handaxe and daughter of Axton and Axetette.
  9. Bugrulgar- a Warhammer that makes fun of wielders with 18 Str or bellow and makes fun of the party if the wielder is the strongest one in the party.
  10. Tina- a Morningstar that gives anywhere between -2 and +2 stat alterations depending on her mood.
  11. Jack- a longsword that is crazy and screams everything except when whispering to the wielder to "take back the throne".
  12. Mick- a hammer that doubles as a bagpipe. Was once a bard and was cursed to have his soul bound to his weapon.
  13. The captain- a shield who was once a paladin that swears to protect whoever is his wielder.
  14. Gramdal- an ornate halberd who dreams to become jewelry.
  15. Barry- a scythe that does 1d6 necrotic damage and 1d4 piercing. He’s just an all around nice guy. Criticals do triple damage.
  16. Zephyr- a longbow that tells the user how far a target is and the wind speed.
  17. Salvador- a heavy crossbow who claims of how great a warrior he was. Is actually a coward who was cursed to be a weapon by the warlock he left to die.
  18. Dovarion- a stick with a dragonbornes decapitated head on it. Breathes fire.
  19. Doravio- sister of Dovarion who breathes lightning.
  20. Dart- a dart who helps people cheat in darts.
  21. Iowa Jims- a whip that hates snakes.
  22. Saltybeards cannon- a cannon that uses cartoon sound effects when fired.
  23. Simone- a rapier that insults the user for poor sword fighting skills.
  24. Clerics Morningstar- if a paladin or cleric wields this weapon they can hear the the god they worship speak to them. Does not speak often.
  25. Stabitha and Slashley- A rapier and a scimitar combo who behave like sterotypical "white girls" and always badmouth the other when its not around "OMG like look at her! That sheath is like SO last century! So gross i cant believe she actually goes out like in public like that".
  26. Cory- a venomous snake. 2d6 poison damage. The victim must make a con save equal to the wielders wis modifier+their proficiency+8. If failed the afflicted takes 1d8 poison damage subtracted by their con modifier. Can only be wielded by PCs of 15 wis or higher.
  27. Cursed sword of Zanthius- a longsword made of bones. The wielder hears constant whispers and screams inside their head when holding the sword.
  28. Prometheus- a poor looking longbow constantly screaming in pain. Will break after 10 uses.
  29. Glaive of actors- a glaive that doesn’t speak for three days to gather information on the wielder. After three days the glaive will perfectly impersonate the wielder but won’t know any secrets of the wielder unless the weapon had overheard it.
  30. LaChancla - A talking flip flop, counts as a +1 magical club, except it's thrown and has the returning ability at the end of the wielder's turn. It always complains about its "dogs being tired", loves a good polish... perhaps too much.
  31. Leo- a Morningstar that is an opera singer. Does fire damage and creates 20 feet of light and 20 feet of dim light when singing or dealing damage.
  32. Solomon- a shortsword who refuses to attack without his twin brother Cain.
  33. Cain- a shortsword who refuses to attack without his twin brother Solomon.
  34. Todd- a knife that loves the beach. Talks like a California surfer.
  35. Sick Icarus- a great axe guitar that was once an aasimar bard.
  36. Little Marcus- a light crossbow who is 8 and wants to grow up to be “a big crossbow”. Will eventually grow into a heavy crossbow and personality will change based on how the party treated Marcus as a child.
  37. Cow Hater- a warhammer that is pretty nice but will actively try to kill any cows he sees.
  38. Karl- a sickle that swears by the distribution of wealth and wants to kill the rich. Will threaten the wielder if he is some form of Nobel or comes from a rich background.
  39. Vlad- a warhammer and servant to Karl.
  40. Catorius- a weapon that changes based on the wielder Ex: shield for a paladin, knife for a rogue. Counts the amount of kills the wielder gets from the moment they pick up the item.
  41. Zerrich Mythforged, Elder of the 12 Realms, Kingmaker and Godslayer, Ruination of Worlds- A greatsword who is incredibly vain and condescending, always knows better than you, and urges you to rush headlong into battle relying on his power. Occasionally adds some extra damage to attacks, when he feels like it, of an elemental damage type he chooses.
  42. Doctor Byrd- a former doctor who was turned into a Tesla coil from a failed experiment. Heavy weapon does 1d10 lightning damage. Will help wielder with information on unknown substances.
  43. Grumblestrike - This dwarven warhammer, if wielded, constantly sings loud and insulting battlesongs. Every creature (other than dwarves) in a 30 foot radius gets angry about the wielder and must resist the anger to not attack him ( DC15 Wisdom). Any dwarf in the radius is inspired and gets advantage in their attack role. The hammer quietly murmurs that he/it is a better choice if the character wield another weapon or tries to solve a problem diplomatic.
  44. Stabby- a small dagger that really doesn't like being covered in blood and just wants to be a whittling knife. Though kind of a doormat stabby wil try to convince it's wielder to not fight with it by giving them tips on how to use another weapon by telling them how much better it's brethern are at combat, try giving them some quality choking tips or just simply try to get them to attempt diplomacy and peace. Despite that it's actually a really strong magical weapon capable of ignoring the bonus in AC that comes from wearing armor.
  45. The quabbling quivebarnaby/shotty/hawkeye/etc.: A ancient quiver that can't talk by itself, instead it can only talk by putting arrows inside it. The catch is that the quiver is a extremely eager to share it's many stories along with a hatred of being interrupted. Not only that but every arrow that get's put inside it has a seperate copy of the quiver's personality. One or two of them are actually quite nice grandpa like companions with a near infinite amount of tales to tell and the knowledge that comes with it. But any more of them and they will constantly get into fights, interrupt each other and talk their wielders ears of (though they know to stay quiet during stealth and keep the talking to a minimum during fights).
  46. Beatrix - a katana of exceedingly high craftsmanship that holds the soul of a bride betrayed on her wedding night. She seeks revenge on a gentleman named Bill and all those who work for him.
  47. Keeedo, the sling- Makes elaborate innuendos about how he would like to 'sling' the nearest new female. Not a good companion in the presence of bar wenches and queens. Will ignore females he has known for at least a day.
  48. Dingla Hopper- A trident that floated to the surface and was picked up by a passing fishing ship. She wants to see new places and gives a +2 bonus after seeing enough places with the player.
  49. Edgar- a vial of acid and a masochist. Edgar wants nothing more that to be thrown at people. Edgar’s glass has a special pouch that will repair Edgar after being broken and replenish the acid inside. This feature can be done once a day. The victim also hears Edgar yelling very loudly in their own head. Edgar does 1d10 acid and 1d10psychic damage.
  50. Ilthindr- a hammer with an eye. Iithindr was once a lawful evil monk who now resides in a weapon after a warlock betrayed him. He is forced to help the wielder despite hating them unless they are also lawful evil. Wielder gains +2 perception.
  51. D’lthmirsflayt- a jumbled mass of tentacles. D’lthmirsflayt only speaks in deep speech and explains all the instructions to use it. The wielder must first feed D’lthmirsflayt enough living creatures to fill up the weapon, then they must feed it a lich’s filactary. Then lastly the player must translate the deep speech. After all is done the players get a +2 in their choice of int wis or cha, a +1 in str dex or con, and +1 AC. D’lthmirsflayt is a heavy finesse weapon does 2d6 psychic and 1d6 piercing and a range of 20 feet.
  52. Biscuit Mansfield- a spear with the soul of a very excited golden retriever.
  53. Slick Rick- a dagger that looks like a harmonica. Slick Rick was one part of a crime family but was turned into a dagger after cheating a wizard out of gold. Slick Rick gives the wielder advice on what to say and usually defaults to lying. The wielder gains +2 cha and a proficiency in deception. If the wielder already is proficient in deception they gain expertise in deception.
  54. Brantsiver - the soul of an archivist trapped inside a shortsword. The sword's hilt is covered in brass carvings, depicting a library full of books, scrolls, and magical apparatus. Able to respond to almost any "what's that thing?" query, and can cast Identify once per day. Brantsiver Keldo died on a research expedition to the Lost Library of Poonf, and often talks of its wonders; when he's not sighing happily about particular books fabled to be in the library, he's a quiet but pleasant voice to talk to.
  55. Thinga - a long rice flail (1d6 Bludgeoning - 5lbs - Finesse, Reach, Two-Handed) containing the soul of a rice farmer. Thinga was killed by goblins while walking through his field one night, and each day he wakes up reliving his last moments, with no memory of his new life as a magical weapon. He spends each morning questioning the party on where he is, who they are, and what their purpose is. By mid-afternoon, he has resolved to help them on their mission and explored his new powers. After at least six hours talking, Thinga transforms into a heavy war flail (+1, 1d8 Bludgeoning - 7lbs - Heavy, Two-Handed, Reach). Regardless of form, when fighting goblins or protecting peasants, Thinga gains an extra 1d6 Thunder damage.
  56. Sick Brick- a brick (1d4 bludgeon, throwing) that sneezes often.
  57. Stack Max- a shield who always complains about how you’re carrying too many items.
  58. Byek’ki - a pale wood bo staff that when striking an opponent talks about their basic interests in life. Wielder takes a -1 to intelligence, however any creature hit must make an INT save. On a fail, the creature is deafened.
  59. Pennington - A +1 wand that used to belong to a wizard academy. If the wielder misses with a spell attack, the wand will encourage them patronizingly and give them some help by becoming a +3 wand for their next turn. If they miss the second time he gives up and becomes a regular wand for the remainder of combat.
  60. Doctor Wallop - A warhammer who constantly nags the wielder if there are wounded allies nearby. Deals an additional 1d8 radiant damage if the wielder cast a healing spell on an ally last round.
  61. Oakley - A longbow that thinks it's just the coolest. Frequently reminds the wielder how awesome they look together. When making an attack with Oakley, you may use either your Dexterity or Charisma modifier.
  62. Talking sword- a shortsword that always reminds the party how “I can talk” and “weapons don’t do that” or “I bet you don’t see talking weapons often”.
  63. Eyelander- a lazy talking ghost sword, with its own will, attunement doesn't work perfectly with it.
  64. Artemis- a crossbow who is paranoid and sees visions of the future. The wielder cannot be ambushed.
  65. Bartolomeo - a big warmace, with the apperance like a greater bag of holding with a staff attached. He is following the party and constantly remind them, that he want to find an old man, with a white beard and red clothes until the start of winter. If the party is nice to Bartolomeo, he acts like a greater bag of holding and could be used as a great mace +2 with 1d6 dmg (because he is biting). Sometimes he would not give you a stored item (especially if you were acting evil). You have to tickle him, then he spits out your stuff.
  66. Harrison- A heavy dwarf warhammer that giggles uncontrollably when being swung.
  67. Axe of Pazuzu- a battleaxe that translates infernal to the wielder.
  68. Luther- a +3 longsword that was once worshipped by a cult and laments the party for taking him away from his life as a cult leader.
  69. Mr.Snip- a cast iron crab statue. When in range he will pinch them doing 2d4+wisdom modifier. Mr.Snips only speaks aquan. He liked to have gold and enjoys hurting people. He wants one day to be cast in gold.
  70. Gloves- a pair of +2 cestus with mouths that make growling and snarling noises.
  71. Polnareff - arrogant rapier that can speak Elven and tries to flirt with women.
  72. Ferguson - a remarkably sturdy kite shield with a prominent relief-sculpture of a steadfast, surly-looking unarmed knight with arms folded across his chest. Boasts of combat prowess at inappropriate times. Growls menacingly moments before combat. When the shield is used in combat, however, the decorative knight animates to cower in terror with each incoming blow, and utters cringey noises. It does carry a 3-point AC bonus, it's just awkward after combat as it downplays its own cowardice, and instead highlights its own version of actual successes during the melee.
  73. Gestalt- a net that says discouraging words to victims. -2 on all checks to escape.
  74. Gunther - A flintlock/rifle that belittles and mocks its user at first. The more fights its user wins using it however, the more it warms up to them and starts giving them helpful battle advice.
  75. Ulsbane- a +3 axe wielded by a hex blade warlock. Talks of great beasts and monsters to kill and how he can offer power beyond imagination.
  76. One sword to rule them all- a greatsword that speaks in movie references.
  77. Jakobs flute- a +3 shortsword that doubles as a flute. Was once owned by a powerful bard. Will sing of the parties accomplishments when resting, this counts as a 1d12 song of rest.
  78. Diplomarius- a +1 longsword that can turn into a pen. The pen can move on it’s own and will write things to the party. Diplomarius is very scholarly and will insult all non magic users of the party.
  79. Feldor- a 12 year old sorcerer who died along with his family years ago and can speak through a decorative knife from beyond the grave. Will speak to the user in a poor sounding quality and occasionally gets interrupted by his parents who want him to come down for dinner which he will normally reply with “not now mom I’m helping adventures!”. Can be used as a spell casting focus for any class and does not require attunement.
  80. Paul- An axe possessed by the spirit of a lumberjack. Comments occasionally on the quality of wooden fixtures, furniture, etc, and urges the wielder to fell particularly large, healthy-looking trees with him. Gruff and stoic, but overall not a bad guy.
  81. Knick- A particularly unintelligent shovel. Prone to pointing out the obvious. Wants the wielder to steal things, seems to have a particular fondness for grave robbery. Found with Knack.
  82. Knack- A particularly unintelligent pickaxe. Prone to giving awful advice and suggesting hare-brained ideas and schemes. Has somewhat of an obsession with gold. Found with Knick.
  83. Dad- A greatsword that seems to adopt the wielder as its child upon attunement. Offers dadly advice, platitudes, etc., and enjoys telling stories of his youth. Exceedingly proud of the wielder by default, and admonishes them when they misbehave or do something considered "bad" by typical moral standards. Grants a +1 to Wisdom saving throws.
  84. Mom- A greataxe that seems to adopt the wielder as its child upon attunement. Has a personality and vocabulary roughly equivalent to that of a stereotypical 1950s housewife. Insists that the wielder stays safe and takes care of themselves, and fusses over them when/if they fail to do either. May attempt to mother other party members, as well. Grants a +1 to Charisma saving throws.
  85. Kendra- A sardonic, lackadaisical mace that despises fighting, not because of any moral qualms, but because it's so much damn work. Grants a +1 to attack and damage rolls, but only for the first three rounds of combat.
  86. Chad- An ornate shortsword with a frat boy attitude. Enjoys parties and women. Gets defensive if you refer to him as a "shortsword" and insists that he's totally a longsword.
  87. Frank- A longbow that insists he's just a normal person and doesn't know how he got in a weapon, totally freaked out by the prospect of being used in battle.
  88. Cursed sickle of the mummy lord- a +2 sickle that is cursed. Once the weapon is held the wielder loses their ability to speak and all their words come out of the sickle. The wielder can’t speak without holding the weapon until the curse is lifted.
  89. Gremblo- a goblin trapped in a whip. Will try to convince the wielder to do drugs and eat poisonous plants.
  90. Percius- an awakened shark head on a stick. Does 2d8+ str modifier. When hungry Percius will talk only about murder and eating but when he’s full he’s actually a very nice person who makes poetry (of varying degrees of quality) and is a wine and cheese expert.
  91. Lance hardwood- a +2 spear with his name engraved on the shaft that says nothing until a party member makes a joke about his name. He’ll then get very defensive about how people shouldn’t make fun of his name. After a while if the party doesn’t stop Lance will impose disadvantage on attack rolls to the wielder out of spite.
  92. Shield of the wise elders- A shield that gives the wielder +2 wis. Once a day the wielder can ask the shield if there are traps nearby. The shield will then tell the wielder of the amount of traps within a 100ft circle but not where they are. If a trap requires a passcode the shield will speak the passcode to disarm the trap. The shield knows no language barrier.
  93. Xsan- a spear made of a Lizardfolks bones. The spear used to be an old Lizardfolk with dementia before a warlock used him as an experiment. Xsan will go into fits of hysteria and will on occasion talk about his wife whom he loves.
  94. Ra'aliki- The tip of a spear, found embedded in the back of dangerous game. Excitable and curious, and eager to bury itself into the flesh of any notably exotic creature. Does an extra 1d6 damage to beasts.
  95. Gaz’yuthlix- a battleaxe that does 2d8 fire damage and 1d8 slashing damage. The axe will use cunning words to convince the player to keep using it and entice the wielder with how powerful they are together. The axe will drain the wielder of energy. With the axe the wielder no longer gets benefits from short rests. Over time this will extend to long rests and later will extend to all forms of healing. The wielder must bury the axe to remove the curse or use a spell to remove curses.
  96. Sword of truth- a +2 longsword that only speaks to correct a wielder if they are lying.
  97. King- a +1 shovel wrapped in barbed wire that deals an extra 2d8 to undead creatures. King despises undead and wants to bury all of them. King will make puns often to the party.
  98. Theodore archduke of Quentshire- a sling that claims to have royal heritage. Theodore refuses to sling anything that isn’t precious gemstones.
  99. Tybalt- a golf club that does 1d8 bludgeon and is versatile who hates golf. Tybalt's favorite pass time is watching hockey. He sees being a weapon as a job and the party as his employers. Tybalt is unbreakable by all means except for level 7 spells or higher. The party must discuss a day of the week for Tybalt to be inactive and 10 minutes in the day for Tybalts lunch break. On Tybalts lunch break and day off he does 1d4 and complains about "having to work on his day off".
  100. blade of Arthur - A +1 staff that thinks it's a sword because it was used by a child named Arthur as a play sword. Over the years, it was convinced by the child's imagination that it is a wondrous sword and constantly belittles the wielder for not sharpening it, not holding it correctly, getting it wet, etc.
submitted by DEADPYNE to d100 [link] [comments]

Lets Build d100 weapons that talk and their personalities.

Thank you to all the contributors!
Contributors: u/MaxSizels u/cheddarsnail u/jyscwfirestarter u/apple_of_doom u/tomcAt67 u/rollinthundaga u/PsiBandGuy u/begeara u/camtarn u/joryho u/valetria u/McFirn u/spycrab_unlicensed u/jediporg12 u/macadeku u/Graytis u/riventitan u/insert_title_here u/saucememer u/Owlbear_Camus
  1. Ryu- katana forged by high elves that only speaks in haikus.
  2. Pierre- a knife that was once a chef. Gives cooking tips to the player.
  3. Katherine- a maul that's personality is the last person killed with it. The current personality is a level 5 human fighter named Katherine.
  4. Rudolph- a greatsword pacifist. Refuses to attack foes but gives wielder +1d6 AC for one turn if the wielder hadn't used an attack or spell that turn.
  5. Axton- a greataxe and family man with a loving wife and two kids.
  6. Axetette- a greataxe and loving wife of Axton.
  7. Axton Jr- handaxe and son Axton and Axetette.
  8. Axella- handaxe and daughter of Axton and Axetette.
  9. Bugrulgar- a Warhammer that makes fun of wielders with 18 Str or bellow and makes fun of the party if the wielder is the strongest one in the party.
  10. Tina- a Morningstar that gives anywhere between -2 and +2 stat alterations depending on her mood.
  11. Jack- a longsword that is crazy and screams everything except when whispering to the wielder to "take back the throne".
  12. Mick- a hammer that doubles as a bagpipe. Was once a bard and was cursed to have his soul bound to his weapon.
  13. The captain- a shield who was once a paladin that swears to protect whoever is his wielder.
  14. Gramdal- an ornate halberd who dreams to become jewelry.
  15. Barry- a scythe that does 1d6 necrotic damage and 1d4 piercing. He’s just an all around nice guy. Critical do triple damage
  16. Zephyr- a longbow that tells the user how far a target is and the wind speed.
  17. Salvador- a heavy crossbow who claims of how great a warrior he was. Is actually a coward who was cursed to be a weapon by the warlock he left to die.
  18. Dovarion- a stick with a dragonbornes decapitated head on it. Breathes fire.
  19. Doravio- sister of Dovarion who breathes lightning.
  20. Dart- a dart who helps people cheat in darts.
  21. Iowa Jims- a whip that hates snakes.
  22. Saltybeards cannon- a cannon that uses cartoon sound effects when fired.
  23. Simone- a rapier that insults the user for poor sword fighting skills.
  24. Clerics Morningstar- if a paladin or cleric wields this weapon they can hear the the god they worship speak to them. Does not speak often.
  25. Stabitha and Slashley. A rapier and a scimitar combo who behave like sterotypical "white girls" and always badmouth the other when its not around "OMG like look at her! That sheath is like SO last century! So gross i cant believe she actually goes out like in public like that".
  26. Cory- a venomous snake. 2d6 poison damage. The victim must make a con save equal to the wielders wis modifier+their proficiency+8 rounded down. If failed the afflicted takes 1d8 poison damage subtracted by their con modifier. Can only be wielded by PCs of 15 wis or higher.
  27. Cursed sword of Zanthius- a longsword made of bones. The wielder hears constant whispers and screams inside their head when holding the sword.
  28. Prometheus- a poor looking longbow constantly screaming in pain. Will break after 10 uses.
  29. Glaive of actors- a glaive that doesn’t speak for three days to gather information on the wielder. After three days the glaive will perfectly impersonate the wielder but won’t know any secrets of the wielder unless the weapon had overheard it.
  30. LaChancla - A talking flip flop, counts as a +1 magical club, except it's thrown and has the returning ability at the end of the wielder's turn. It always complains about its "dogs being tired", loves a good polish... perhaps too much.
  31. Leo- a Morningstar that is an opera singer. Does fire damage and creates 20 feet of light and 20 feet of dim light when singing or dealing damage.
  32. Solomon- a shortsword who refuses to attack without his twin brother Cain.
  33. Cain- a shortsword who refuses to attack without his twin brother Solomon.
  34. Todd- a knife that loves the beach. Talks like a California surfer.
  35. Sick Icarus- a great axe guitar that was once an aasimar bard.
  36. Little Marcus- a light crossbow who is 8 and wants to grow up to be “a big crossbow”. Will eventually grow into a heavy crossbow and personality will change based on how the party treated Marcus as a child.
  37. Cow Hater- a warhammer that is pretty nice but will actively try to kill any cows he sees.
  38. Karl- a sickle that swears by the distribution of wealth and wants to kill the rich. Will threaten the wielder if he is some form of Nobel or comes from a rich background.
  39. Vlad- a warhammer and servant to Karl.
  40. Catorius- a weapon that changes based on the wielder Ex: shield for a paladin, knife for a rogue. Counts the amount of kills the wielder gets from the moment they pick up the item.
  41. Zerrich Mythforged, Elder of the 12 Realms, Kingmaker and Godslayer, Ruination of Worlds. A greatsword who is incredibly vain and condescending, always knows better than you, and urges you to rush headlong into battle relying on his power. Occasionally adds some extra damage to attacks, when he feels like it, of an elemental damage type he chooses.
  42. Doctor Byrd- a former doctor who was turned into a Tesla coil from a failed experiment. Heavy weapon does 1d10 lightning damage. Will help wielder with information on unknown substances.
  43. Grumblestrike - This dwarven warhammer, if wielded, constantly sings loud and insulting battlesongs. Every creature (other than dwarves) in a 30 foot radius gets angry about the wielder and must resist the anger to not attack him ( DC15 Wisdom). Any dwarf in the radius is inspired and gets advantage in their attack role. The hammer quietly murmurs that he/it is a better choice if the character wield another weapon or tries to solve a problem diplomatic.
  44. Stabby- a small dagger that really doesn't like being covered in blood and just wants to be a whittling knife. Though kind of a doormat stabby wil try to convince it's wielder to not fight with it by giving them tips on how to use another weapon by telling them how much better it's brethern are at combat, try giving them some quality choking tips or just simply try to get them to attempt diplomacy and peace. Despite that it's actually a really strong magical weapon capable of ignoring the bonus in AC that comes from wearing armor.
  45. The quabbling quivebarnaby/shotty/hawkeye/etc.: A ancient quiver that can't talk by itself, instead it can only talk by putting arrows inside it. The catch is that the quiver is a extremely eager to share it's many stories along with a hatred of being interrupted. Not only that but every arrow that get's put inside it has a seperate copy of the quiver's personality. One or two of them are actually quite nice grandpa like companions with a near infinite amount of tales to tell and the knowledge that comes with it. But any more of them and they will constantly get into fights, interrupt each other and talk their wielders ears of (though they know to stay quiet during stealth and keep the talking to a minimum during fights).
  46. Beatrix - a katana of exceedingly high craftsmanship that holds the soul of a bride betrayed on her wedding night. She seeks revenge on a gentleman named Bill and all those who work for him.
  47. Keeedo, the sling- Makes elaborate innuendos about how he would like to 'sling' the nearest new female. Not a good companion in the presence of bar wenches and queens. Will ignore females he has known for at least a day.
  48. Dingla Hopper- A trident that floated to the surface and was picked up by a passing fishing ship. She wants to see new places and gives a +2 bonus after seeing enough places with the player.
  49. Edgar- a vial of acid and a masochist. Edgar wants nothing more that to be thrown at people. Edgar’s glass has a special pouch that will repair Edgar after being broken and replenish the acid inside. This feature can be done once a day. The victim also hears Edgar yelling very loudly in their own head. Edgar does 1d10 acid and 1d10psychic damage.
  50. Ilthindr- a hammer with an eye. Iithindr was once a lawful evil monk who now resides in a weapon after a warlock betrayed him. He is forced to help the wielder despite hating them unless they are also lawful evil. Wielder gains +2 perception.
  51. D’lthmirsflayt- a jumbled mass of tentacles. D’lthmirsflayt only speaks in deep speech and lays out the instructions to use it. The wielder must first feed D’lthmirsflayt enough living creatures to fill up the weapon, then they must feed it a lich’s filactary. Then lastly the player must translate the deep speech. After all is done the players get a +2 in their choice of int wis or cha, a +1 in str dex or con, and +1 AC. D’lthmirsflayt is a heavy finesse weapon does 2d6 psychic and 1d6 piercing and a range of 20 feet.
  52. Biscuit Mansfield- a spear with the soul of a very excited golden retriever.
  53. Slick Rick- a dagger that looks like a harmonica. Slick Rick was one part of a crime family but was turned into a dagger after cheating a wizard out of gold. Slick Rick gives the wielder advice on what to say and usually defaults to lying. The wielder gains +2 cha and a proficiency in deception. If the wielder already is proficient in deception they gain expertise in perception.
  54. Brantsiver - the soul of an archivist trapped inside a shortsword. The sword's hilt is covered in brass carvings, depicting a library full of books, scrolls, and magical apparatus. Able to respond to almost any "what's that thing?" query, and can cast Identify once per day. Brantsiver Keldo died on a research expedition to the Lost Library of Poonf, and often talks of its wonders; when he's not sighing happily about particular books fabled to be in the library, he's a quiet but pleasant voice to talk to.
  55. Thinga - a long rice flail (1d6 Bludgeoning - 5lbs - Finesse, Reach, Two-Handed) containing the soul of a rice farmer. Thinga was killed by goblins while walking through his field one night, and each day he wakes up reliving his last moments, with no memory of his new life as a magical weapon. He spends each morning questioning the party on where he is, who they are, and what their purpose is. By mid-afternoon, he has resolved to help them on their mission and explored his new powers. After at least six hours talking, Thinga transforms into a heavy war flail (+1, 1d8 Bludgeoning - 7lbs - Heavy, Two-Handed, Reach). Regardless of form, when fighting goblins or protecting peasants, Thinga gains an extra 1d6 Thunder damage.
  56. Sick Brick- a brick (1d4 bludgeon) that sneezes often.
  57. Stack Max- a shield who always complains about how you’re carrying too many items.
  58. Byek’ki - a pale wood bo staff that when striking an opponent that talks about their basic interests in life. Wielder takes a -1 to intelligence, however any creature hit must make an INT save. On a fail, the creature is deafened.
  59. Pennington - A +1 wand that used to belong to a wizard academy. If the wielder misses with a spell attack, the wand will encourage them patronizingly and give them some help by becoming a +3 wand for their next turn. If they miss the second time he gives up and becomes a regular wand for the remainder of combat.
  60. Doctor Wallop - A warhammer who constantly nags the wielder if there are wounded allies nearby. Deals an additional 1d8 radiant damage if the wielder cast a healing spell on an ally last round.
  61. Oakley - A longbow that thinks it's just the coolest. Frequently reminds the wielder how awesome they look together. When making an attack with Oakley, you may use either your Dexterity or Charisma modifier.
  62. Talking sword- a shortsword that always reminds the party how “I can talk” and “weapons don’t do that” or “I bet you don’t see talking weapons often”.
  63. Eyelander- a lazy talking ghost sword, with its own will, attunement doesn't work perfectly with it.
  64. Artemis- a crossbow who is paranoid and sees visions of the future. The wielder cannot be ambushed.
  65. Bartolomeo - a big warmace, with the apperance like a greater bag of holding with a staff attached. He is following the party and constantly remind them, that he want to find an old man, with a white beard and red clothes until the start of winter. If the party is nice to Bartolomeo, he acts like a greater bag of holding and could be used as a great mace +2 with 1d6 dmg (because he is biting). Sometimes he would not give you a stored item (especially if you were acting evil). You have to tickle him, then he spits out your stuff.
  66. Harradon: A heavy dwarf warhammer that giggles uncontrollably when being swung.
  67. Axe of Pazuzu- a battleaxe that translates infernal to the wielder.
  68. Luther- a +3 longsword that was once worshipped by a cult and laments the party for taking him away from his life as a cult leader.
  69. Mr.Snip- a cast iron crab statue. When in range he will pinch them doing 2d4+wisdom modifier. Mr.Snips only speaks aquan. He liked to have gold and enjoys hurting people. He wants one day to be cast in gold.
  70. Gloves- a pair of +2 cestus with mouths that make growling and snarling noises.
  71. Polnareff - arrogant rapier that can speak Elven and tries to flirt with women.
  72. Ferguson - a remarkably sturdy kite shield with a prominent relief-sculpture of a steadfast, surly-looking unarmed knight with arms folded across his chest. Boasts of combat prowess at inappropriate times. Growls menacingly moments before combat. When the shield is used in combat, however, the decorative knight animates to cower in terror with each incoming blow, and utters cringey noises. It does carry a 3-point AC bonus, it's just awkward after combat as it downplays its own cowardice, and instead highlights its own version of actual successes during the melee.
  73. Gestalt- a net that says discouraging words to victims. -2 on all checks to escape.
  74. Gunther - A flintlock/rifle that belittles and mocks its user at first. The more fights its user wins using it however, the more it warms up to them and starts giving them helpful battle advice.
  75. Ulsbane- a +3 axe wielded by a hex blade warlock. Talks of great beasts and monsters to kill and how he can offer power beyond imagination.
  76. One sword to rule them all- a greatsword that speaks in movie references.
  77. Jakobs flute- a +3 shortsword that doubles as a flute. Was once owned by a powerful bard. Will sing of the parties accomplishments when resting, this counts as a 1d12 song of rest.
  78. Diplomarius- a +1 longsword that can turn into a pen. The pen can move on it’s own and will write things to the party. Diplomarius is very scholarly and will insult all non magic users of the party.
  79. Feldor- a 12 year old sorcerer who died along with his family years ago and can speak through a decorative knife from beyond the grave. Will speak to the user in a poor sounding quality and occasionally gets interrupted by his parents who want him to come down for dinner which he will normally reply with “not now mom I’m helping adventures!”. Can be used as a spell casting focus for any class and does not require attunement.
  80. Paul- An axe possessed by the spirit of a lumberjack. Comments occasionally on the quality of wooden fixtures, furniture, etc, and urges the wielder to fell particularly large, healthy-looking trees with him. Gruff and stoic, but overall not a bad guy.
  81. Knick- A particularly unintelligent shovel. Prone to pointing out the obvious. Wants the wielder to steal things, seems to have a particular fondness for grave robbery. Found with Knack.
  82. Knack- A particularly unintelligent pickaxe. Prone to giving awful advice and suggesting hare-brained ideas and schemes. Has somewhat of an obsession with gold. Found with Knick.
  83. Dad- A greatsword that seems to adopt the wielder as its child upon attunement. Offers dadly advice, platitudes, etc., and enjoys telling stories of his youth. Exceedingly proud of the wielder by default, and admonishes them when they misbehave or do something considered "bad" by typical moral standards. Grants a +1 to Wisdom saving throws.
  84. Mom- A greataxe that seems to adopt the wielder as its child upon attunement. Has a personality and vocabulary roughly equivalent to that of a stereotypical 1950s housewife. Insists that the wielder stays safe and takes care of themselves, and fusses over them when/if they fail to do either. May attempt to mother other party members, as well. Grants a +1 to Charisma saving throws.
  85. Kendra- A sardonic, lackadaisical mace that despises fighting, not because of any moral qualms, but because it's so much damn work. Grants a +1 to attack and damage rolls, but only for the first three rounds of combat.
  86. Chad- An ornate shortsword with a frat boy attitude. Enjoys parties and women. Gets defensive if you refer to him as a "shortsword" and insists that he's totally a longsword.
  87. Frank- A longbow that insists he's just a normal person and doesn't know how he got in a weapon, totally freaked out by the prospect of being used in battle.
  88. Cursed sickle of the mummy lord- a +2 sickle that is cursed. Once the weapon is held the wielder loses their ability to speak and all their words come out of the sickle. The wielder can’t speak without holding the weapon until the curse is lifted.
  89. Gremblo- a goblin trapped in a whip. Will try to convince the wielder to do drugs and eat poisonous plants.
  90. Percius- an awakened shark head on a stick. Does 2d8+ str modifier. When hungry Percius will talk only about murder and eating but when he’s full he’s actually a very nice person who makes poetry (of varying degrees of quality) and is a wine and cheese expert.
  91. Lance hardwood- a +2 spear with his name engraved on the shaft that says nothing until a party member makes a joke about his name. He’ll then get very defensive about how people shouldn’t make fun of his name. After a while if the party doesn’t stop Lance will impose disadvantage on the wielder out of spite.
  92. Shield of the wise elders- A shield that gives the wielder +2 wis. Once a day the wielder can ask the shield if there are traps nearby. The shield will then tell the wielder of the amount of traps within a 100ft circle but not where they are. If a trap requires a passcode the shield will speak the passcode to disarm the trap. The shield knows no language barrier.
  93. Xsan- a spear made of a Lizardfolks bones. The spear used to be an old Lizardfolk with dementia before a warlock used him as an experiment. Xsan will go into fits of hysteria and will on occasion talk about his wife whom he loves.
  94. Ra'aliki- The tip of a spear, found embedded in the back of dangerous game. Excitable and curious, and eager to bury itself into the flesh of any notably exotic creature. Does an extra 1d6 damage to beasts.
  95. Gaz’yuthlix- a battleaxe that does 2d8 fire damage and 1d8 slashing damage. The axe will use cunning words to convince the player to keep using it and entice the wielder with how powerful they are together. The axe will drain the wielder of energy. With the axe the wielder no longer gets benefits from short rests. Over time this will extend to long rests and later will extend to all forms of healing. The wielder must bury the axe to remove the curse or use a spell to remove curses.
  96. Sword of truth- a +2 longsword that only speaks to correct a wielder if they are lying.
  97. King- a +1 shovel wrapped in barbed wire that deals an extra 2d8 to undead creatures. King despises undead and wants to bury all of them. King will make puns often to the party.
  98. Theodore archduke of Quentshire- a sling that claims to have royal heritage. Theodore refuses to sling anything that isn’t precious gemstones.
  99. Tybalt- a golf club that does 1d8 bludgeon and is versatile who hates golf. Tybalt's favorite pass time is watching hockey. He sees being a weapon as a job and the party as his employers. Tybalt is unbreakable by all means except for level 7 spells or higher. The party must discuss a day of the week for Tybalt to be inactive and 10 minutes in the day for Tybalts lunch break. On Tybalts lunch break and day off he does 1d4 and complains about "having to work on his day off".
  100. blade of Arthur - A +1 staff that thinks it's a sword because it was used by a child named Arthur as a play sword. Over the years, it was convinced by the child's imagination that it is a wondrous sword and constantly belittles the wielder for not sharpening it, not holding it correctly, getting it wet, etc.
submitted by DEADPYNE to d100 [link] [comments]

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