Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms

Vell’s throne was far more comfortable than the shoulders of the crowd, and he lounged in it comfortably as he overlooked his dominion. With his Divine Consort Harley at his left hand, and the new High Priestess Lee at his right, Vell surveyed the kingdom of the dining hall, and saw that it was good.

“How are the negotiations with the isolationist faction faring?” Lee asked an advisor. She was far more suited to the (very limited) bureaucracy involved with running a cult, and had taken over the minute-to-minute operations.

“Their leader is amenable to your offer of truce, though she has refused a meeting,” Ngose said. He wasn’t all that good of a lead diplomat, but he was one of the few people in the cult Vell recognized and so he had assigned him a role arbitrarily.

“That’s fine,” Lee said. “And what of the former Marine Biology department?”

“The Fishwalkers have been informed they are never to return to school grounds,” Ngose said. “Though they do not seem unduly upset with their punishment, ma’am, content to stride among the dying fish as they are.”

The loopers had been unable to resist a slight jab at the longtime annoyance of the Marine Biology department, but they didn’t want to actively hurt them. They’d do just fine out on the ocean floor, with plenty of fish carcasses to examine.

“Fine by me,” Vell said. ‘The Almighty Tallest doesn’t want to hurt anyone, just make sure they don’t bother him.”

“My apologies, I did not mean to question your wisdom,” Ngose said with a bow.

“It’s cool,” Vell said. “Anything else, Ngose?”

“Yes. I have gathered some of the scattered, including these two.”

Some guards pushed Cane and Luke forward at the point of measuring sticks that had been converted to spears. Vell waved them off.

“They claim to know you, and call you friend.”

“Yeah, those are my roommates, they’re cool,” Vell said. At the word of their Almighty Tallest, the guards retreated and returned to their posts.

“Hey Vell,” Cane said. “Nice crown.”

“So apparently you’re in charge of this place, eh?” Luke noted. “Not too shabby.”

The kingdom of Vell was pretty organized, as far as post apocalyptic cultist societies went. There wasn’t any misogyny, and only a few people were wearing leather harnesses.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Vell said. “You two want a gig? Lee, what kind of positions do we have open?”

“There’s a clerical -as in the religious kind of cleric- role that I think Luke would do well in,” Lee said. Vell nodded. He wasn’t one for religion, but authority was nice.

“The harem is always hiring, if Cane needs a gig,” Harley said with a wink.

“I don’t have a harem,” Vell said.

“Yet.”

“I think I’m good,” Cane said, casting a skeptical and entirely heterosexual glance at Vell. “Any commander of the guard stuff? I liked those spears.”

“Yeah sure, how’s captain sound? Not too much responsibility, but you’re still in charge of people,” Vell suggested. Cane agreed that it was a sweet gig. “Oh yeah, by the way, did Renard make it? I was hoping to make him my royal chef.”

“He’s alive, but he somehow slept through the whole thing and it seemed rude to wake him up.”

Vell shrugged. He could do with some nice food, but honestly, he was just glad Renard had survived for once. Better to leave him to his own devices. He had plenty of other creature comforts to enjoy in the meantime. Some of his emissaries were even bringing him a few more. Cane and Luke wandered off to take up their new roles and made way for the newly arrived procession of soldiers.

“Hail, Almighty Tallest,” the lead soldier said. “The sophomore clan has seen the light and pledged themselves to your cause. As a gift to appease your eminence, they offer this.”

Th guard swept his hand to displayed the offered bounty -about fourteen young men and women, bound in chains and wearing barely any clothing.

“Fine concubines for your-”

“Whoa, hey, hold on,” Vell said. “Get the chains off of them. We don’t do slavery or anything like that around here.”

“Oh no it’s cool,” one of the male “concubines” said. “We volunteered for this.”

Another of the offered “concubines” leaned forward with a broad smile on her face.

“We’re into bondage!”

“The safe word of the day is ‘tallest’,” another concubine added. Vell stared at them for a moment and then relaxed into his throne again.

“Well alright then,” Vell said. ‘That’s fine. I guess. Harley, uh, do your thing.”

Harley, who had been waiting several hours for this, hopped out of her seat and took the lead of the consensually chained procession. She clapped her hands together and led them to a back room she had prepared for just such an occasion.

“Alright alright, everybody follow me and on the way you can tell me all about your preferences and favorite positions,” Harley said. “I’ll start. I’m Harley and I’m all about cowgirl, but I also like-”

Her voice faded away as she led them off and away from Vell’s throne. Lee watched her go for a moment, then turned back to Vell, who was slightly preoccupied addressing the soldiers.

“But seriously, no chains and no slavery,” Vell said. “Unless there’s informed consent involved. Then it’s cool, I guess. But rule of thumb, no chains.”

The soldiers dispersed to carry out his orders, leaving Vell to relax once again. This time there were no interruptions, and Lee could get a word in.

“You’re doing very well, you know,” Lee said. “This is by far one of the kindest cults I’ve ever been a part of.”

“Thanks. I’m trying my best,” Vell said. “Though, weren’t you in charge of a cult once? How’d that go?”

“A bit more chaotic than this, I’m afraid,” Lee said. “I was not ‘divinely appointed’, as you are, so I had to strong-arm a bit to maintain order.”

“I’m sure if you were the Almighty Tallest you’d be doing a pretty good job of it,” Vell said. “You’re doing half the work already.”

“I live to serve, oh Almighty Tallest,” Lee said. Vell bumped her on the shoulder to knock the sarcasm out of her.

“Seriously, Lee. I’m kind of lost on my next move here. We’ve got a few hours left and I don’t know what to do.”

“I know you’re trying to rule with humility and grace, dear, but I absolutely must recommend lying on a chaise lounge while someone feeds you grapes,” Lee said. “Hedonistic, yes, but it’s every bit as delightfully decadent as it looks.”

“Hmm. Alright, but we’re going to need to find volunteers to feed us grapes,” Vell insisted.

“We’ll also need to find some chaise lounges,” Lee said. “Shockingly, there are very few to be found on college campuses.”

And yet the loyal servants of the Almighty Tallest managed. They located a matching set, even, allowing Vell and Lee to lie head to head as they relaxed.

“You were right,” Vell said between grapes. “It feels so indulgent, and yet-”

“The indulgence is what makes it feel so good,” Lee said. “Like having that extra cookie you know you really shouldn’t.”

“Good point,” Vell said. He looked towards one of his volunteer attendants. “How many grapes have we got?”

“More than enough, Almighty Tallest, I assure you,” the freshman said.

“Cool. After we’re done you guys should try this, it’s great,” Vell said.

“Vell, darling, I truly admire your charitable spirit, but please just relax and enjoy yourself,” Lee said. “This is supposed to be ‘you’ time. You don’t need to think about other people.”

“I mean, once I’m done, they might as well enjoy themselves too,” Vell said. “I’m still taking my time, I’m enjoying this.”

“Whatever you guys’re talking about, I’m sure Lee’s right,” Harley said, making her presence known. She strutted across the room and elbowed her way onto Vell’s lounge, cuddling up underneath his arm. “Scooch. What’s going on?”

“Good timing, Harley, we were just discussing self-indulgence, and you are the master of it,” Lee said.

“Well don’t say that like I’m some kind of hedonist. I just like to bang,” Harley said. “Speaking of, I hope your relaxation plans didn’t involve the harem. They’re a bit exhausted. I’m up for another go around, though.”

“I’ll be fine,” Vell said. “Maybe later.”

“Suit yourself,” Harley said. She helped herself to a few grapes and then kicked her feet up. “Anyway, other than the usual eating, boning, and relaxing, I don’t have too many ideas.”

Vell thought about it for a moment. He also dismissed the volunteers feeding them grapes, so that they could talk more openly.

“Is it weird that I just sort of want to play video games?” Vell said. Between studying and apocalypse-preventing, Vell didn’t get much time to sit around and enjoy mindless entertainment.

“It’s a little weird,” Harley said. “Come on, you’re basically a demigod! Make people dance and sing for your amusement, or something.”

“I’ve just never really found that kind of stuff amusing,” Vell said. “I don’t really like telling other people what to do.”

“I can tell them to do it and you can just watch,” Harley suggested. Vell did not take the bait. “Ah, you’re right, the novelty would probably wear off pretty fast.”

“I don’t know about ordering them to dance, but you should try to keep your ‘subjects’ in line, Vell,” Lee suggested. “You have done a good job keeping everyone on their best behavior. There hasn’t been a single human sacrifice all day.”

“Is that usually a problem?”

“Oh yes, quite,” Lee said. “It’s usually one of the first things they do. As soon as the robes get put on, somebody gets put on the fire.”

Vell checked the time. They’d been eating grapes in private for about twenty minutes.

“On that note I think we better go check on the cult,” Vell said. Lee checked the time and hopped out of her chaise lounge.

“Oh dear, yes, we’re pushing it a bit,” she said. “Better get a move on before one of your subjects calls a crusade.”

Vell put his crown back on and headed back to the dining hall. He found a suspiciously high number of people sharpening their makeshift spears.

“Excuse me, Cane, what are people doing?”

“People took you disappearing with your closest advisor to mean you were planning a declaration of war,” Cane said. “I tried telling them you weren’t that kind of dude, but they said ‘desperate times’ and all that other crazy junk.”

“People do get horny for murder around here,” Harley said, sounding far too unconcerned with that very concerning thought.

“Alright, well, none of that, no thank you,” Vell said. He grabbed the spear out of the hands of the nearest soldier and put it on the ground. “We will not be doing any war, here, no.”

The disappointed militia began to discard their weaponry. While Vell oversaw the disarmament, Luke called for his attention from across the room. Vell turned to see his roommate standing in front of a large, makeshift catapult that Luke and the other physics students had built.

“Should we disassemble this, too?”

“No, no, that can stay,” Vell said. “I want to see some stuff get launched out of that. But not like, at anyone, okay?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” Luke said. He’d only gone along with building it in the hopes of seeing some watermelons get chucked across the quad.

“Vell, dear, I do believe the people need some form of, well, outlet,” Lee said. ‘They’re all rather manic.”

“Eh, maybe we should just let them be manic,” Harley said.

Vell put a hand to his chin. He did want to relax and enjoy himself for a while, but he also didn’t want to leave his “followers” to devolve into some sort of obscene murder cult. He stood on the slightly angled floor of the dining hall and tried to come up with a solution.

“Vell’s got his thinking face on, this ought to be good,” Harley said. His ‘thinking face’ had produced no results so far, until Harley’s voice reminded him of a workable idea.

The chaise lounges upon which Vell had all too recently relaxed had been repurposed into a new pastime. A very different one from their original, sedentary purpose.

“Go go go! They’re catching up!”

“What do you want me to do, man?” Cane shouted. “Hit the gas? It’s a sled!”

Kanya and Himiko thumbed their noses at Cane and his partner as the robotics department team shot past the neurology department team. The lounge chairs had become very comfortable sleds for two teams competing to race down the sloped school grounds the fastest, just as Vell and Harley had done before the cult had formed. The crowds of cultists, placated by the spectacle and the cutthroat competition, packed the sides of the makeshift racetrack and cheered on their chosen teams. After seizing the advantage, Kanya and Himiko maintained it, making it to the bottom a few seconds ahead. Cane berated his partner and then began the long slog back up to the top side of the fallen school.

“My sincere congratulations to the victors,” Vell said. He presided over the racetrack like a roman emperor watching over the Circus Maximus. The presence -and approval- of the Almighty Tallest helped keep the cultists placated. Vell would wager that the races (with the occasional catapult interlude) could keep everyone calm and non-murderous for the rest of the day.

“Should there be prizes?” Vell whispered to Lee. “I feel like there should be prizes. Pride is only going to keep people invested so long.”

“Just tell them the prizes will be delivered tomorrow, dear,” Lee suggested. Vell nodded in approval. There wouldn’t be a tomorrow for this timeline, so that would work out just fine. Vell watched the next race play out between the robotics department and the arts department, as Kanya and Himiko claimed another victory over Adele and her partner. While the racetrack reset, a tangle of frizzled red hair worked it’s way to Vell’s side.

“Vell,” Freddy said. “Hey, Vell! Apparently you’re in charge now.”

“Oh hey Freddy, nice to see you’re, uh, not concussed,” Vell said. “Yeah, it’s a long story. “What’s up?”

“If you want to borrow a concubine, they’re sitting two rows down,” Harley said.

Freddy did look, but only for a second. He snapped his attention back to Vell.

“No, well, the thing is, my roommate tried to get the dehydration gun fixed, and, uh…”

“It’s even more broken, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well the good news is it’s not like there can be any less ocean,” Harley said, waving at the dry seabed around them.

“He actually kind of broke it badly enough that it works in reverse now.”

“Ah.”

Across the quad, the malfunctioning machine blinked on, and the water blinked back in. Thankfully the abyssal pressure of the ocean depths crushed everyone before they had time to drown.

HARL33:

good job being a god king vell

Lee:

Indeed!

We must make a cult leader out of you more often.

vharlan03:

not today though

im gonna get a head start on stopping that dehydration gun

Lee:

Please do.

I rather like the ocean, I would hate to see it gone for good.

Vell promised to do his best, and his two partners in crime were satisfied with that. Vell rarely failed to follow through on a promise. Unless, of course, he died in some gruesome fashion before being able to fulfill it, as the two started to fear might be the case the longer he went without updating them. Lee and Harley met up at lunchtime and decided the best course of action would be to check in on Freddy’s dorm and ensure that Vell had not somehow dehydrated himself while fixing the malfunctioning ray gun.

“Heyo Freddo, you home?” Harley shouted. The door, as always, opened quickly at Harley’s call.

“Yes, hello, hi, I am here,” Freddy said.

“Cool, nice to see you,” Harley said. “Is Vell here?”

“What’s up,” Vell shouted. Harley pushed her way past Freddy to see Vell relaxing on the couch, engrossed in a video game.

“Just making sure you didn’t turn yourself into a raisin,” Harley said. “Did you fix the shit?”

“No, but it shouldn’t be a problem,” Vell said. He pointed over his shoulder at the dorm room kitchen. The dehydration machine stood, fully assembled and fully malfunctioning, in front of a row of dangling raw meat.

“I couldn’t actually figure out how to fix it so I just borrowed some raw meat from Renard,” Vell said. “Now every time the dehydration thingy misfires we just get a piece of beef jerky.”

The machine emphasized his point by choosing that time to misfire, reducing one of the strips of raw meat to a dehydrated and lightly spiced husk of it’s former self. Lee pointed to the machine.

“May I?”

“Please do,” Freddy said. He and Vell had both gotten a bit sick of the jerky over the past few hours. It made for a good stalling technique, though, until Freddy’s roommate returned and could fix it properly. Lee helped herself to the makeshift jerky and found a seat.

“Either of you two want to play?” Freddy offered. “We’ve got more controllers.”

“Thank you but no, I feel as though I’d just drag you two down,” Lee said.

“I just don’t like video games,” Harley said.

“Really?” Freddy said, trying and failing to hide his disappointment.

“Can’t fucking stand them,” Harley said. “I’m social, I do social things, I got to be talking to people, engaging with them. You do your thing, though.”

Harley found herself a seat and relaxed, chatting with Lee as the boys played their game. The moment of relaxation wasn’t quite as good as being fanned by servants, but it was still pretty good.