Chapter Text
Riz says it can’t be identified. Gorgug is pretty wary about that.
He’s not going to act like he’s some all-knowing figure of arcanotech, but he’s pretty sure any machine is identifiable, if you really cared to try.
“It was probably just one of Bill’s rich people toys,” Riz reasons, turning it in his hands. The thing is square and adorned with golden accents, though it’s mostly made up of a big, blue dream crystal -- palimpsest-like, really.
Gorgug grabs one of the handles on the side and tugs, watching it extend and retract with each pluck. “It’s meant for something,” he mutters, not removing it from Riz’s grasp. “It’s not just, like, a crazy phone case, right?”’
Riz shrugs. “It was Bill Seacaster’s, man. Rich people are weird.”
That they are, Gorgug thinks, looking up to eye the single (currently) rich person he knows on the other side of the basement. Fabian digs through a box, oddly examining the various gadgets and gizmos he pulls out.
Only one hour without the girls has left the three of them scavenging the basement of Seacaster Manor. The Bad Kids had planned a thorough snack-making venture under the pretense of Senior Sunrise on Monday -- the yearly tradition where soon-to-be-graduates sit together and watch the sun rise on a new school day, during the new school year. It's kind of bullshit, Gorgug thinks, but Kristen's making a speech, and Fabian insisted on making an appearance, so they're all going, because that's how the Bad Kids roll, and have always rolled.
Then, of course, though, the girls called off -- just their luck. Fabian can't cook for shit and Gorgug and Riz only know the bare essentials (when they complained about this, Fig reprimanded them for enforcing gender stereotypes) so snack-making was put on hold.
Instead, the boys are scavenging in Fabian's basement, not letting the hangout go to waste.
Originally, the intention was to find Fabian’s old game system, to see if it was worth salvaging a full thirteen years past its prime. Then, though, as cleaning your room often goes, one old thing leads to another, and then you’re wearing a shirt you haven’t seen in seven months and you’re taking a million pictures with the digital camera you begged your parents for and never used.
It’s weird doing it on this end -- Gorgug didn’t know Fabian before being a teenager and it’s hard to imagine him as a kid. He keeps finding things with long, winding memories behind them that Gorgug and Riz don’t know how to comment on, especially with the stories about his dad.
Riz can make basically anything an investigation, though; it was almost like he could sniff out the singular unlabeled box buried beneath a million others. That’s where he found the doohickey they’re staring at now -- a glittering, rectangular crystal, with handled, golden edges, buried beneath a collection of many various and sundry objects.
“Maybe Adaine can cast Identify on it,” Riz suggests, his eyes still trained on the thing. “She’s always been better at that stuff.”
Gorgug’s brows furrow. “Or you can just ask Fabian.”
Riz smiles warily, that regular vague look of panic behind his eyes. “Is he gonna know?”
Probably not. Still, Gorgug grabs it and shouts across the room, “Yo, Fabian!”
He doesn’t look up, as should’ve been expected. Instead, he holds up his pointer finger. “One second, Gorgug, I think I’ve found the right box.”
“Do you know what the hell this is, man?”
Fabian glances up briefly, then does a double take when he very obviously does not recognize the contraption. He squints, though, not revealing that.
“That’s…that’s a…” He swallows. “That’s, like, a fancy phone case.”
“It is not,” Riz insists.
“How would you know, the Ball?”
“It’s got handles.”
“Yes, well, so do mugs. They’re not any less of a cup.”
Despite that oddly profound notion, Riz makes a hmph kind of noise and grabs the machine once again, going back to spinning it in his hands. Gorgug eyes him as he fidgets with it.
Upstairs, the thick thud of the Seacaster Manor French doors ring out. The three boys look up at the ceiling oddly, the creaks from the floor not revealing much about who it is. Layered chattering indicates more than one person, and Gorgug’s deep-seated gut feeling is confirmed with a pitter-patter of the stairs.
“Don’t worry, guys, we’re here to make the function worth having,” Fig announces, spreading her arms and curling her lip.
Kristen and Adaine follow behind, carrying plastic bags with big, yellow logos on the front. Kristen’s mouth is completely muffled by fries when she says, “You guys want Dragon Wild Wings?”
Fabian reaches out without commenting and is given one of the bags by Kristen. “How did you guys know we were here?”
Fig plops on the floor with no invitation, folding her legs under her and opening a massive box of mozzarella sticks. “Where the fuck else would you hang out if not the manor?” She takes a big bite out of one and slurps up the stringy cheese with her tongue.
“Where were you?” Gorgug asks. “You guys said you couldn’t make it.”
Struck a nerve. All three girls groan dramatically, even though Fig and Kristen’s mouths are full of food.
“Blame Fig,” Adaine remarks.
Fig whines, a shrill squeal coming from the back of her throat. “Me? Kristen’s the one who wanted to paint her room.”
“Wha-? Bullshit!” Kristen shrieks. “You did it first.”
“Only because Adaine did!”
“No! That’s such-”
Adaine sighs loudly. “We’re grounded.”
“Grounded?” all three boys ask in perfect sync.
“I didn’t know Jawbone knew grounding existed,” Riz mutters to himself.
Gorgug shakes his head. “What did you guys do?”
“Kristen, and yes, it was Kristen,” Fig says, “wanted to paint her room. ‘Cause the stone walls in her room are super depressing.”
“Right, but Fig did it, like, three weeks ago, so I thought it was acceptable,” Kristen clarifies. “And Adaine did it before that.”
“It was acceptable because we asked,” Adaine asserts.
Fig hums. “I didn’t ask, but they didn’t find out, and that’s where you failed.”
Riz waves his hands dismissively. “So, all three of you are grounded because Kristen painted her room?”
“No, all three of us are grounded because I got the paint…a little less than legally,” Fig explains, shrugging.
Gorgug’s brows furrow. “There’s such a thing as ‘illegal paint’?”
“There is if you steal it from behind the paneled-off section,” Adaine insists, rolling her eyes. “As Fig did.”
“You didn’t stop me,” Fig shrugs. “I was getting the good stuff.”
“Yeah, well, the ‘good stuff’ turned out to be locked away because it was enchanted with pixie dust,” Kristen explains. “And any reasonable spellcaster knows that something enchanted with pixie dust will start flying.”
“And apparently, we are not reasonable spellcasters,” Adaine shrugs.
“So, long story short, the paint started flying because we didn’t mix it up, and it got all over the house, and…” Fig huffs. “Well, my mom is my mom, and we got grounded. We can’t leave the house without explicit permission for two weeks.”
Fabian hums. “I feel it was a little deserved.”
Riz and Gorgug make similar noises of agreement.
“Okay, well, not all of us have benevolent rich-people lives,” Fig remarks, waving her hands around. “Some of us grew up in middle class homes with middle class bills and middle class parents-who-got-divorced-a-little-too-late. We have to take matters into our own hands.”
“My mama probably wouldn’t even notice if I painted my room,” Fabian mutters, shaking his head. “At least Sandra Lynn is making an effort.”
Gorgug swallows, the obvious question itching the back of his mind. “Wait, but if you can't go out, are you guys still going to Senior Sunrise?"
“Oh, we’re already breaking it just being here,” Adaine shrugs, moving to sit next to Fig. She takes a polite bite of a fry and says, “Like you said, I don’t think Jawbone knows how to ground people. We kind of just left the house.”
“Yeah, but if Sandra Lynn found out…” Kristen starts, interrupted as all three girls shudder at the thought.
“She won’t,” Fig insists. “Not on my watch.”
Adaine glances back over to Riz and Gorgug, finally noticing the contraption in Riz’s hands. She clocks the state of the room, amiss and scattered, and, all Adaine-like, sets her jaw.
“What are you guys doing?” she asks, a testing lilt to her voice.
Caught, all three boys sigh.
“Just- long story short, we’re looking through Fabian’s old stuff,” Riz explains. “He’s trying to find a computer, or something.”
Fabian scowls. “The Falconflier 300 XPro, the Ball.”
Riz hums dismissively, waving his hand. “Whatever the hell that is.”
“And what’s that?”
Adaine points exactly where they all thought she would. Riz only half shrugs, holding it up for her to take. “You tell me.”
Kristen, sat on the staircase, brows furrowed, mouth still stuffed: “Fabian doesn’t know?”
“I would need a catalog to know every single thing I own, alright?” Fabian insists, waving his available hand in Kristen’s direction. “If I rattled them all off for you, we’d be here for weeks.”
“I’m sure,” Adaine says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Gorgug watches the way she meticulously scans the object, not a corner unturned, each glance placed with care. Everything she does, she does with purpose.
Fig, meanwhile, mindlessly kicks the box of mozzarella sticks in Riz and Gorgug’s direction, tearing into another one with her teeth. Before either of them can say anything, she says, “That looks expensive.”
Riz studies the new box she’s opening. “How much food did you guys buy?” His criticism does not stop him from digging in for a stick of his own.
Fig shrugs. “We got the employee discount. The girl at the counter made out with Kristen at a party once, or something.”
Kristen shrugs too. “I honestly thought she looked like Tracker in the dark. Turns out she has blue hair, so.”
Horribly, Gorgug feels a pang in his chest -- a selfish voice within him tells him that it’s just so easy for Kristen to get girls. He feels like he’s stumbling over himself trying to be suave; might as well be throwing up on their shoes doing so.
And yet, Kristen hardly pays attention to what she said, standing to look at the contraption over Adaine’s shoulder. “That thing is sick as fuck.”
Adaine laughs a little under her breath, still turning it around in her hands. She tugs on the handles, like Gorgug did, though her tugs are a bit more gentle. “Is this a dream crystal in the center?” she asks.
Riz shrugs. “Thought so.”
“Can you cast Identify on it?” Gorgug asks.
Adaine hums. “I don’t see why not. Hold, please.”
A collective “Holding!” rings out throughout the basement, though to varying degrees of excitement and patience. Adaine’s eyes glow white as she communes with her spell.
Fig takes a loud, squelching bite of a mozzarella stick, which is apparently what’s inside the other box too. Fabian looks repulsed, quietly munching on the chips Kristen gave him. “Did you guys get anything other than appetizers?”
Kristen shrugs. “She said she could only get away with the appetizer deal. There was one burger and Fig ate it.”
“And I do not feel bad about it.”
A swoosh of magical noise later, Adaine is back to the present. Gorgug expects to see an answer cross her eyes, but instead, it's pure annoyance. “Nondetection,” she whines, handing the thing off to Kristen. “I can’t believe I’m the Elven fucking Oracle and I can’t get past a nondetection spell.”
Kristen, ever riddled with ADHD, immediately starts tugging on the handles too, watching the way they shrink back into the inside. “Do you think the handles do anything, and we’re all just fucking with them and making it worse?” she asks.
“Well, it’d have to work first,” Riz points out.
Fig finally stands too, reaching out for it. “Is it on-?”
“I don’t think it turns on-”
Despite Kristen’s hypothesis, Fig grabs the other handle, tugging on it with the fervor of a child jealous of a toy.
As soon as both of their hands are on it, both pulling, a loud, crackling spark emerges from between them, making both girls freeze in a panic.
Gorgug is quick to his feet, tripping over himself to get over to them. Everyone else -- even Fabian -- aren’t far behind, confused and alarmed.
“What the hell was that?” Gorgug demands.
Kristen and Fig look at each other, panicked. “That wasn’t you?” Kristen asks.
Fig is incredulous. “What? No!” she shouts. “Just because it was fire-!”
“That was fire?”
“It wasn’t fire. It was just a spark,” Riz insists, his authoritative voice cutting in. “Nobody freak out. It was probably just a…?”
He stops. They wait. He doesn’t continue.
“It was just what?” Fig demands.
Riz blanches. “Um…y’know. A fluke.”
“A fluke of what?” Adaine asks, bewildered. “Sparks don’t just happen. Right? I mean, unless that happens regularly in your house, Fabian?”
“Maybe it was one of the lights,” Fabian insists. “They haven’t been changed in ages. I’m sure one of them is…I don’t know, old. Or finicky.”
Even he doesn’t sound very sure, and Gorgug can basically smell the curiosity on Kristen from where she stands next to him. In a moment Gorgug must’ve missed, Kristen and Fig make the choice to pull it again.
More sparks fly, a larger, blueish light emerging. The Bad Kids shriek and separate, the two perpetrators quickly retracting in fear, staring at the magic mess they’ve created, up until the very last second of its existence.
Silence.
Then, Kristen laughs a little, incredulous.
“Pull it again,” she says, a glint in her eye.
“What?” Adaine and Riz’s voices ring out, but they’re silenced by the mischievous grin spreading on Fig’s lips.
“Fig, do not,” Adaine insists.
“Yeah,” Fabian says, “without me.”
“What?!”
Fabian hurries to Kristen’s side, moving to join his hands next to hers. “It’s my stuff. If this solves world hunger or something, I want my maximum legend status solidified.”
“It’s not going to solve world hunger,” Riz insists, but Fabian grabs a firm hold of the handle. He glances at Gorgug, as if asking him the same question.
For a second, he blanks. Does he want him to tell Riz that this is going to solve world hunger? Gorgug can’t say he’s particularly educated on the subject, but he doesn’t really think this little dream crystal has much power behind it.
Then, though, Fabian gives him a very pointed look, and he gets the message: Grab on.
For a second, Gorgug has a debate with his innerworkings. All logic says fuck no, dude, that fire was gnarly and Gorgug doesn’t particularly care to get shish-kebabed in the basement of Seacaster Manor. If that’s the battle his dumbass friends want to fight, then they can fight it.
Then, he listens to that final thought. His heart pangs either with fomo or genuine fear for his friends’ lives. And all at once, he can’t stand it.
“C’mon,” Fabian says. “Spring break, man.”
Fuck it. Gorgug huffs and hurries to Fig’s side, grabbing the other side of the handle.
“Gorgug, you can not be serious,” Adaine chastises.
“He said ‘spring break!’”
“You’re all being ridiculous.” Adaine drags the skin under her eyes frustratedly. “Look, guys, it’s clearly unsafe. Let’s just put it down.”
“At some point, you’re doing this on purpose,” Riz agrees. “To burst our blood pressure, or something.”
“You guys are not even a little curious?” Gorgug asks. “No part of you wants to see what it does?”
“Of course I’m curious,” Riz says, his arms spread, “I just don’t want to die.”
Kristen shrugs mindlessly. “I’ve died. It’s not so bad.”
Gorgug hums. “No, it’s pretty bad.”
“You’re not making a point,” Adaine insists. “Drop the thing, guys. C’mon.”
Nobody moves. Adaine stands there, shaking her head like she’s waiting for a response, but none ever come. Instead, Gorgug catches the glint of Fig’s fangs as another grin creeps up her face.
“Riz wants to touch it.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Adaine insists, whipping around to look at him. “No, you don’t.”
If Riz had any particular opinion on the subject, it's gone in a second. He clamps his mouth shut like it’s been glued that way.
“Adaine, come on,” Fig whines. “We do everything together. It’s always been that way, and it’s always gonna be that way, right? We go on every adventure together. Even the bullshit ones!”
“Our bullshit adventure was getting grounded, Fig,” she whines. “C’mon! You know you’re gonna blow something up, or some shit. Jawbone is going to be so mad.”
“Jawbone’s not gonna know!” Fig insists. “Come on, Adaine, please? If you don’t, we’re just gonna do it without you guys, and it’s gonna be, like, half as fun.”
“And that’s if it does anything at all!” Kristen chimes in. “Y’know, other than start a fire.”
“Right, exactly!”
Everyone turns to look at Adaine and Riz, unreadable, awkward expressions on their faces.
For a moment, Gorgug feels a pang of envy. They have a sense of responsibility he typically prides himself for having, a backbone they don’t turn over at the drop of a hat just because their friends asked them to. For a second, he regrets his decision.
Then, though, a look of disgust crosses their faces. It takes all of about five seconds for decisions to click into place, Riz first to move -- he slots in next to Gorgug, quietly putting a hand on the handle.
“Y’know, in elementary school, I told my mom I was going to be so against peer pressure,” he mutters. “I was a D.A.R.E. warrior.”
Adaine huffs annoyedly, moving to stand next to Fabian. Her hand latches on, sandwiching Fabian’s hand between hers and Kristen’s. “I wasn’t, but my fear of abandonment is unfortunately going to get me every time,” she laments, “so…”
Fig just grins at her. “And yay for that!”
“On the count of three, everyone just pull as far as it goes,” Kristen says. “Like tug of war, or something. Ready?”
Gorgug nods curtly, readjusting his grip on the handle.
“Okay. One…”
Gorgug’s foot digs itself into the ground,
“Two…”
Gorgug eyes his friends, similar looks of determination on their faces.,
“Three!”
Gorgug pulls -- hard as he can without raging -- and his friends follow their instructions. The sparking grows and grows, the blues swirl into purples and the flame burns before their very eyes, dividing them in half.
For only a moment, Gorgug is able to steal a glance at Adaine’s look of hesitance through the flame, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Guys?” Riz asks, the flame only growing bigger, angrier, hotter.
“Don’t stop!” Fig insists. “Just-!”
“I don’t think we should-!”
CRASH!
In a second, the flame is entirely gone, but glass is everywhere, scattering all over their feet. The crystal lay in pieces across the floor, completely shattered, leaving only the handles as evidence of its existence, still in the hands of the Bad Kids, respectively.
Adaine huffs, dropping her hand. “Great. We broke it.”
The Bad Kids disperse, underwhelmed by the grand finale. Gorgug catches Fig stealing a glimpse at the floor, shrieking in annoyance.
“Dude! There’s glass in the mozzarella sticks!” she shouts, like someone killed her mom, kneeling next to the cardboard box like it's a grave. “What the hell?”
Fabian huffs, strolling back to the boxes he was rummaging in before. “All this and we still haven’t found the Falconflier 300 XPro.”
Kristen blows raspberries. “Well, that was a total bust.” She saunters over to the other side of the room -- where Gorgug and Riz were sitting earlier -- and heads for the speaker system (which, frankly, Gorgug is marveled still works after the countless Seacaster Manor ragers). “You guys want some tunes?”
Riz grunts. “Please. The silence is killing me. And that’s coming from me.”
"No, we should go do snacks," Adaine pipes up. The group groans, but she only shakes her head. "C'mon! At, like, two-thirty in the morning on Monday, we're all going to regret it. Let's go. It's what we came here to do."
And just like that, it’s all over, the contraption forgotten and discarded. A fluke, a mistake, trash.
Gorgug still stands there, though, cradling the golden-arched handle in his hand, as everyone trudges up the stairs with their bags of Dragon Wild Wings. He spins it around, attempting to understand what about it would’ve caused it to break, what coincidence would’ve saved him and his friends from another bullshit adventure. For a second, he lets himself wonder what it would’ve done if it hadn’t.
"Gorgug, dude!" Fig calls. "You comin' up?"
Gorgug glances up, catching her eye for a second. "Yeah. Sorry. Coming."
Then, like everyone else, he pockets the handle, climbs the stairs, and forgets about it for the rest of the night.