Chapter Text
The Inventory is finally open to full business, catering to all kinds throughout the day. The Player, back to regular size, emerges from a nearby port-a-potty, not sure how they got there, as they stride over to the door that leads into the place where all games are played. It’s close to midnight. The Witching Hour of all games, when spirits are high and standards are low. It’s time to see if your new friend has gotten himself situated at The Inventory.
The vibes at The Inventory this night were immaculate. It looks like several fights have taken violent turns, the elevator was still out of order, the slide was gone. Perfect for midnight. Dingy. Dirty. Too humid. Things have taken a turn for the worse. It’s the same every night. Hours upon hours spent cleaning, before going throughout the day, servicing clientele with games of all kinds. You have to use one of the employee entrances. You see the genuine storage area of The Inventory, a where the games are stored in plastic bins, and food is stored properly, but with the night drawing to the witching hour, food was scarce.
Was that a Minecraft Silverfish eating some bread?
You pay it no mind as it looks at you, you walk through the food storage area, passing giant barrels of liquids you probably couldn’t even think of, all so that all clients have what they need. Libations of all kinds. You’ll need them for the game you're playing tonight.
You manage to find the false barrel by identifying the light coming from the cracks. Spinning the nozzle, you pull the door open, and end up behind the bar.
“Barkeep… more wine…” A tired, but still somehow bombastic voice mumbles down to your left. You look down the bar and there sits…
Gabriel
Ultrakill
You decide to slide down a bottle of the stuff for him, which he grabs, pours into a shot glass (you drink wine in shot glasses?), and then tosses the bottle over his shoulder, leaving a dark purple splatter on the wooden floor of The Inventory. A robotic huff pierces your ears as V1 walks over and cleans up the bottle with a vacuum and power washer.
“I heard-*hic*- this was a den of sin! But all I find are people having… MERRIMENT! They should-*hic*-! …” He takes another sip of wine and just goes back to sulking.
“That’s not the bartender, dumbass.” A more casual voice was leaning on his chair, feet on the dirty poker table, now located on the 2nd floor. A familiar knife is sticking out of his masked head.
Deadpool
Marvel
“Welcome to the party, champ. You here to win big tonight? We got some high god damn stakes!” Deadpool cackles polishing a gun. He pulls the knife out of his head and holsters it, "Souvenir~."
The Player makes their way up stairs, seeing that his seat overlooks the rest of The Inventory in its currently rather dingy/destroyed state. Those that were sensible were long gone.
“You see? We’re rulers of the night here. Those that drank too much or can take a beating are those that stick around when the sensible ones are gone. No host tonight, and the Dealer only pops out when the table’s full. Been tryin’ to get angel boy down stairs to join us for a bit of fun, but he’s clearly…” Deadpool and the player look down at him, as he’s reaching for another bottle of wine, “Thinking about it. Do you like the ambiance I’ve been putting on?” He pulls out his phone, playing what seems to be Spotify. “Would you prefer I keep this kind of ambience or should I lighten the-”
His phone shakes a bit, a sparking a couple times as a black & white bear logo appears on it. New music begins playing.
The ceiling cracks, surprising Deadpool and the Player, as they look up. They follow the forming crack as it travels along the ceiling to a very specific spot above a chair. “Death? Are we being Final Destinationed?” He asks, hoping for an answer from his on-again-off-again significant other. A white haired individual falls through the hole formed by the cracks, already sitting in a chair, crushing the chair that was below him that contained a skeleton, shattering it and it's chair to bits.
The dust clears and the white haired individual shakes his head, as several chunks of drywall and splinters fall out of his wild hair “Where am I?” damn he sounds tired.
Nagito Komaeda
Danganronpa 2
“You here for the game?” Deadpool asks, a bit suspicious.
“I… was just in another game. But I guess I just busted out. A shame.” He shrugs.
“Well tonight we got somethin’ that’ll bolster that ol’ pocketbook right swell.” He says, a clear grin under his mask.
“Hm. Very well. I’m always tired of these games of chance but I have a good feeling this one will provide some real… entertainment.” He says with a weirdly sinister smile, “Hope… I win.”
“Alright! We got 3 weirdos. Just need angel boy up here and-”
“ALLOW ME TO JOIN THE REVELRY!” Gabriel teleports up to the table, scaring the shit out of Deadpool and Nagito, standing with his hands on the felt in excitement, clearly still drunk, “I wish to see what you humans do when you have no purpose in life and god being dead!”
“Hm. Gonna have to check up on Thor after this…” Deadpool thinks out loud.
You are one short.
The lively music fades as a club beat permeates The Inventory.
“Sorry dealerino, witchin’ hour is too close, everyone else is asleep.” Deadpool tries to make a deal.
I will make do.
A disembodied hand descends from the ceiling, goes down the way you came enters the fridge… and grabs something. Reversing course, the hand pulls back and places.
An orange.
On the seat to the right of the player.
“...I believe that’s a fruit.” Nagito was confused.
The hand goes 3, 2, 1, then snaps. The fruit has transformed into… a fruit man.
Orange
Orange Roulette (Newgrounds)
“Fuck me not again…” The Orange puts his hands to his face in despair.
The waivers have been signed… Let us begin.
Deadpool places the shotgun on the table as the disembodied hand (and freaky face) adjusts it accordingly, and a devilish smiling face floats over everyone.
1 Live Round. 2 Blanks. I insert the rounds in an unknown order.
The shotgun slams down onto the table.
"Your turn, champ." Deadpool looks giddy.
"Oh, I've never played Roulette like this before." Nagito observes, gears turning in his head.
The Orange just scowls, knowing he'll never escape this fate, "Bring it on." He steels himself.
"Fascinating, *hic*, a gun. What will you do with it?" Seems Gabriel is going to get quite a lesson in... "human entertainment".
The Player picks the shotgun up. Let’s get this party started.
*Click*