Episode One: Reginald the Archive Dragon
with
Fudge, Keeper of the Magical Menagerie, Floofy Ginger Overlord of Level 16, and Snack Acquisition Specialist
Greetings, my furbulously floofy friends!
It is I, Fudge, your resident ginger icon, reporting live from the Magical Forest on Level 16, a place filled with wonder, enchantment, and creatures who absolutely do not respect purrsonal boundaries or snack storage protocols.
As the appointed Keeper of the Magical Menagerie since 2018, when all the magical creatures were brought back from The Clockwork Labyrinth as dimensionally displaced refugees, I’ve decided it’s high time I introduced mew to the extraordinary beings who now call BBHQ home.
Each post, I’ll be sharing one creature from my magical entourage, along with insider gossip, snack preferences, and any incidents involving unexplained bunker happenings, scrolls, fog cannons, or emotional meltdowns, etc, and I'll let mew in on a little secret: I will be adding these notes to my upcoming books that I'm writing, called;
The BBHQ Creature Compendium ~ How To Survive Level 16 and Still Come Out Floofy
plus
Creature Herding for Newbies
And for those of mew who haven't read the original adventure linked above, or are a little bit lost, let me tell mew about the forest.
🌳 Welcome to the Magical Forest on Level 16🌳
A place so enchanting, even reality takes a holiday.
Deep beneath BBHQ, far below the sensible levels where things like “logic” and “filing systems” allegedly exist, lies Level 16, home to our breathtaking, nanobot‑crafted 15‑acre Magical Forest, created specially for the refugees by Deezul the Badger, who tries to keep the nanobots contained. In this instance, he failed.
So, if mew’ve ever wondered what happens when ancient enchantments, rogue creativity, and a team of over‑enthusiastic nanobots collaborate… this is it.
This isn’t just a forest.
It’s a whole world tucked away deep inside the bunker.
The moment mew step through the shimmering threshold, the air shifts; warmer, softer, tinged with wildflowers and something sweetly indefinable. The trees tower above, their leaves glowing with bioluminescent veins that pulse like gentle heartbeats. Some trees hum. Some whisper. Some giggle if mew tickle their bark. Every tree has a purrsonality, and none of them believe in “quiet.”
The canopy above adjusts to your mood, bright and sunlit when mew’re joyful, dusky and star‑speckled when mew’re contemplative. It’s a forest that listens, responds, and occasionally offers unsolicited advice.
Scattered throughout are several crystal‑clear lakes, each one reflecting a different sky. Some show the real world. Others display constellations from forgotten realms. A few reveal your future snack choices. Tiny islands drift lazily across the water; floating moss beds purrfect for naps, miniature forests, glowing mushrooms, and the occasional creature who prefers solitude and snack deliveries by boat.
Waterfalls cascade from colour-changing 'mood cliffs', tumbling into pools that glow from within. One waterfall occasionally turns into rainbow mist if mew compliment it. Behind the largest falls lies a cavern filled with crystals that hum harmonies when mew enter via the secret path.
I discovered it first and declared it is my “Thinking Spot,” though I mostly nap there, but don't tell anypawdy! MOL
Between the trees lie pockets of rolling meadows, each one a different shade of dreamscape. One meadow is filled with knee‑high flowers that change colour when mew purr. Another has grass so soft it feels like walking on clouds. A third is home to butterflies made of light who follow mew around like tiny floating fans.
The entire forest is alive, not in a spooky way, but in a deeply comforting, “mew belong here” way. Magic drifts through the air like pollen. The light is always purrfect. The temperature is always “just right.” Time moves differently, slower, kinder, as if the forest wants mew to stay just a little longer.
It’s the kind of place where worries dissolve, naps hit different, snacks taste better, and every creature, from pom‑pom fluffballs to crystalline dragons, feels at home.
It’s a sanctuary.
A playground.
A refuge.
A dream made real.
And once mew’ve breathed in that enchanted air, the rest of the world feels just a little too ordinary.
Today’s Creature Feature Star?
A dragon.
A miniature dragon.
A miniature dragon with a clipboard.
Brace yourselves.
🐉 Introducing… Reginald
Species: Crystalline Archive Dragon
Age: Unknown (he refuses to disclose and says it’s “totally irrelevant to his professional image”)
Current Posting: Level 6 Library Archive
Special Skills: Fog cannon operation, scroll whispering, emotional triage, dramatic entrances
Reginald originally hatched in the Magical Forest, but one afternoon, after I told him about Melvyn having a near nervous breakdown over a thesaurus that called him “mediocre,” he decided the Library Archive was where he was needed.
He stomped up to Level 6 wearing a purple cape he made from a curtain and tieback tassel, carrying a clipboard he stole from Parsley, and announced:
Never fear, Reggie is here!
Melvyn fainted.
Vera Prime applauded.
The prophecy scrolls hummed in approval.
It was a whole thing.
If mew missed Melvyn's Mewsings and Reginald's antics, click here to go to Episode One
📚 Reginald’s Official Duties (According to Reginald)
1. Fog Cannon Calibration
He installed two fog cannons in the archive.
No one asked for them.
No one approved them.
He insists they are “essential for dramatic effect” during filing emergencies.
2. Scroll Emotional Assessment
Reginald claims he can “taste narrative tension.”
He licks scrolls.
We’ve stopped trying to stop him.
3. Cupboard 7B Mediation
Cupboard 7B is temperamental.
Reginald is the only one who can coax it open without it hissing or quoting ancient curses.
4. Motivational Fog Deployment
When Melvyn spirals (which is hourly), Reginald releases a gentle lavender fog and says things like:
“Inhale confidence. Exhale chaos. Repeat until scrolls stop whispering.”
“Breathe in the lavender. Breathe out the existential dread.”
“Fog is clarity in disguise. Let it settle. Then file your feelings alphabetically.”
5. Filing Rituals
He performs interpretive dances to “align the archive’s emotional frequencies.”
The mice join in.
Melvyn cries.
Vera Prime (formerly V1.0) writes haikus about it.
6. On-site Data Destroyer
He incinerates sensitive papers, old hard drives, etc., that are no longer needed at BBHQ. Using concentrated controlled bursts of flame, of course, and only in BD1, aka Bomb Disposal Room 1. The first time, he got a bit effervescent, and fire extinguishers were deployed; now, he's more careful! MOL
🧀 Snack Preferences
Reginald is a connoisseur of:
Smoked cheddar
Aged Gouda
Anything labelled “Do Not Eat – For Experimental Purrposes Only”
Scroll crumbs
Melvyn’s emergency biscuits (he denies this, but the crumbs in his spikes tell another story)
He also enjoys sipping brimstone and lava tea while judging Melvyn’s posture.
🐾 Fudge’s Personal Review
Reginald is a delight.
A menace, yes.
But a delight.
He’s efficient, sparkly, and has the emotional intelligence of a seasoned therapist with a fog machine. He once stared down a cursed thesaurus until it apologised. He reorganised the prophecy scrolls by “vibe.” He told Vera Prime that her haikus lacked depth, and she has been trying to impress him ever since.
He is, in short, exactly the kind of chaos BBHQ loves.
Although Basil sometimes complains when he discovers that his office has been used as an impromptu pawty room on occasion, though he never mentions it... Mew only know because he'll stomp into the Control Room clutching rainbow streamers, and say, "Not again!"
16 Quotes From Reginald
“I don’t do chaos. I do structured whimsy.”
“Scrolls are like emotions ... best filed before they explode.”
“If it doesn’t sparkle, is it even a solution?”
“I’m not dramatic. I’m atmospherically enhanced.”
“Fog is not a distraction. It’s a lifestyle choice.”
“I lick scrolls for nuance. Don’t judge me.”
“Melvyn spirals. I choreograph.”
“My clipboard is enchanted. It knows when mew're lying.”
“I once reorganised a prophecy by mood. It wept with gratitude.”
“I don’t burn documents. I liberate them from relevance.”
“Cupboard 7B respects me. Mostly because I bribed it with lavender mist.”
“I am not a miniature dragon. I am a compact archivist with flair.”
“Vera Prime writes haikus. I edit them for emotional clarity.”
“The glitter calculator fears me. As it should.”
“I am the fog. I am the flair. I am the filing system.
"When chaos erupts, join in, it's the only thing to do!"
🔍 Field Notes from Level 6
A few highlights from Reginald’s first week:
He declared Melvyn “emotionally dehydrated” and made him drink three cups of catnip tea.
He convinced the glitter calculator (P.U.M.A.) to stop unionising by offering it a fog bath.
He taught the library mice a filing chant. They now sing it at dawn.
He built a “Fog Fort” out of scrolls. It is structurally questionable but aesthetically pleasing.
He told the Wedge of Wonder that its aura was “a bit clingy today.” The Wedge hummed in embarrassment.
🔮 Coming Next Time…
Prepare yourselves for Squish & Squash, the pom‑pom duo of pure joy and questionable decision-making. There are only two of them, pink and orange, and they have recently discovered glitter. I'm afraid, not of Squish and Squash, but the glitter, it is now sentient, so I keep a teaspoon on me at all times, well, it worked for Parsley! MOL
Link to Episode Two... coming soon...
Until then, my magical furiends…
Stay curious.
Stay chaotic.
And remember:
If your scroll hums, Reginald’s your dragon, and if mew'd like to read more about his adventure in the archive, click here to go to episode one.
Until next time... Snack responsibly, scroll wisely, and never trust glitter and most impawtantly...
🐾 Fudge 🐾
Keeper of the Magical Menagerie
BBHQ Level 16
