Vamps in Chaos

Chapter Twenty: A (Supernatural) Day Off

After the council gathering and recent magical chaos, Babe decided it was time for a break.

"Alright, team. I'm calling it. We're having a day off. No drama, no council, just... chilling," he declared.

Ollie's face lit up. "A day off? Does that mean movies, snacks, and... a 'no magic' rule?"

Billy tilted his head thoughtfully. "A... day off. Is that... formal relaxation? I've heard of rejuvenation practices, but are there structured guidelines?"

"Nothing formal," Babe said with a laugh. "It just means... doing whatever we want to unwind."

Billy, looking intrigued, nodded. "Then, if we are to relax, we must ensure it is done... effectively."

Without a moment's hesitation, he outlined a "Relaxation Efficiency Scale" with categories for "optimal posture" and "measured breathing." Soon, despite himself, Babe got competitive, determined to score higher than Billy in the "art of relaxation." Ollie joined in, eagerly tallying points on a makeshift scoreboard as the enchanted furniture cheered them on. Babe's couch, channeling surfer vibes, even yelled, "Bro, just go with the chill, man!"

After a few rounds, Babe, feeling unusually carefree, looked around and gestured toward the TV. "Alright, Ollie, why don't you set up a movie for us?"

Ollie's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. "Oh, I've got this!" He quickly tried enchanting the loft for "maximum relaxation mode," hoping to impress. But the loft's enchantments took on lives of their own.

The toaster began giving Billy-era advice with every slice of toast it produced. "Have you considered taking up needlepoint to improve your marriage prospects?" it offered as Billy passed by, as if completely serious.

The TV, meanwhile, had decided on a historical documentary marathon, featuring wildly inaccurate accounts of events Billy had actually lived through. "That is NOT how the Black Plague started," he muttered indignantly, arms crossed as he eyed the screen.

In the corner, the mirror—determined to offer "modern" stylings—gave Babe a trendy new hairstyle and Billy a TikTok-inspired e-boy makeover, complete with chains and eyeliner. Looking himself over, Billy tugged at his oversized hoodie with obvious discomfort. "I feel... drafty," he admitted.

"Not bad," Babe teased, giving him a once-over. "Just add a few hashtags, and you'll be trending in no time."

Before Billy could reply, the mirror turned to Babe with a mischievous grin. "And you're next!" it announced, showing a projection of Babe with pink highlights. Babe backed away, laughing. "I'll pass! I'm here to relax, not relive my high school phase."

During a break from their "relaxation competition," Babe stumbled across a hidden door in the loft. He cocked his head, frowning. "Was this here before?"

Billy joined him, equally intrigued. "A relic of a previous resident, perhaps?"

Already halfway inside, Ollie beckoned them both eagerly. "Let's check it out!"

Inside, they found a cozy, dimly lit space filled with magical artifacts, dusty shelves, and portraits that seemed to shimmer with life. The walls felt almost sentient, shifting to display memories and artifacts that seemed linked to each of them.

Ollie's eyes caught on a crystal ball, and as he leaned closer, it suddenly spoke up. "In exactly 3 minutes, Billy will say 'preposterous' seven times." Babe set an invisible timer in his mind, stifling a laugh as he continued exploring.

On a nearby shelf, enchanted photo albums flickered to life, showing memories from their lives. They saw an image of Billy's first attempt at using a smartphone (and promptly dropping it in horror), followed by a flash of Babe's regrettable 80s fashion phase, complete with neon colors and leg warmers.

"Oh wow, look at you!" Babe laughed, pointing at a younger Billy with his awkwardly held smartphone.

"Preposterous," Billy muttered, which the crystal ball noted as its first "correct prediction." The memories continued cycling, each flicker sparking laughter and, in Billy's case, the occasional scandalized muttering.

As they continued exploring, a photo came to life, showing Babe and Billy's first encounter. Babe nudged Billy, smirking. "You were so uptight back then."

Billy gave a small, almost embarrassed smile. "I was... unaccustomed to such... informalities."

The mood crystal on the wall blushed a soft pink as the two shared a quiet laugh, but before the silence grew too warm, Babe cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the shelves.

After the hidden room exploration, Babe introduced Billy to food delivery apps, showing him how to order anything "at the touch of a button." Enthralled, Billy ordered from practically every restaurant nearby, his curiosity getting the better of him. Minutes later, the loft was bombarded by delivery drivers bringing armfuls of food.

Ollie, in a panic, tried hiding all the deliveries in pocket dimensions, but each time he opened a new dimension, he misplaced an order—one dimension ended up filled with endless noodles, another with a mountain of breadsticks.

"Babe, my gratitude must be expressed formally," Billy declared, setting to work on calligraphy-inked thank-you notes for every delivery person.

Trying to control his laughter, Babe noticed how close they were standing amid the chaos, sharing an unexpectedly private moment—until the doorbell rang again, and they burst out laughing all over again.

Back in the hidden room, they found themselves suddenly trapped. Ollie's last enchantment had created a series of "bonding exercises" as part of the "escape." To "strengthen friendship," the room locked the door and forced them into rounds of trust-fall exercises and escape challenges, which only made things worse.

Billy treated their predicament as a formal imprisonment, laying out elaborate plans from siege tactics he'd learned in the medieval era. "We'll form a blockade on the southern wall, and breach from the north point at dusk," he muttered, as though he were leading an actual battalion.

Meanwhile, Ollie's enchanted chair stood guard at the exit, its bouncer-like demeanor adopting Billy's own formal tone: "I must respectfully deny your exit request at this time, good sirs."

Caught up in a forced trust-fall exercise, Babe found himself catching Billy, and they locked eyes just inches apart. They both froze, sharing a heartbeat's pause before the enchanted chair applauded with a hearty "Well done, good sirs!" that effectively broke the tension.

Finally freed from the room, they returned to the main living area and collapsed on the couch, completely spent from the day's "relaxation." They queued up a movie and settled in with enchanted popcorn that somehow managed to taste like memories.

Billy's first bite brought back the taste of his very first feast as a vampire. "Refined, yet... startling," he said thoughtfully.

Babe's handful of popcorn tasted like the 1700s, which he promptly spat out. "Why does it taste so... dusty?"

Ollie giggled as his popcorn took on the flavor of his past spell mishaps, each bite reminding him of his "learning moments." Laughing, they traded popcorn and swapped stories, feeling closer than ever as the movie played softly in the background.

With the lights casting a warm glow around them, Babe glanced over at Billy, catching him in a rare moment of pure contentment. And as they settled into the cozy silence, Babe realized how much this chaotic, quirky little family had come to mean to him. Their lives, though unpredictable, had found their perfect balance together.