I may write butts when I get off work.

I don't think it works if they never realize you're there

Smeared on the face of the target? Drowned in the flow of alcohol for the night's activities? Blotted on a napkin, devoured with the meal? Smeared into the target's body during foreplay or oral sex? Popped like a bug by a clumsy kiss?

Worse, your last moments will probably be on government film.

These knives, hidden against her thighs, against her ribs, within her sleeves . . . easily thrown at an opponent and delivering instantly fatal doses of lead, carbon monoxide, the sewage and party drugs of these micro peoples, directly into a target's bloodstream.

Which is a problem in its own right, as Marketing has a few microphiles who utterly enjoy abusing anyone small enough for their tastes. Trapping them in formal shoes, or on chairs or desks they can't safely get down from, or in pockets or purses . . .

However, there's a minimum weight necessary to trigger these panels . . . and the other method of harassment reporting requires a physical sheet of paper that cannot be filled out as a shrunken desk. So, anyone shrunken for violating too many company rules can't report harassment.

". . . Get her out."
"I am VERY full of pie."
"I said, get her out."
"No. I'm full of pie and very satisfied."
"I can HEAR your stomach gurgling, you're digesting my girlfriend!"
"But I don't want to vomit up all this pie."

Honestly, yeah, sounds fun.

Yeah, I'm picturing it as a magical construct designed to troll adventurers, by hiding inside their bag and refusing to let them open it, and then swapping their equipment out at random. For a normal adventurer, it's annoying. For you on your shapeshifting mask quest, it's always dangerous.

See, and here I was thinking about them as a kind of amorphous shadow creature thing, similar to KH Shadows and their ilk, but just eyes and hands, a weird little creature that can scuttle along the ground really fast to hurry into your bag to do its gimmick, but otherwise dies to a single hit.

But, it's made up for, a little bit, when they just decide, apropos of nothing, to shrink you to make into their toy and plaything because the power to shrink people made them realize how "positively cute and helpless" you were.

So, uh, win some lose some?

And, of course, being stuck on the shelf gives you a lot of time to try and catch the Bagvoid as its sneaky hands reach out of the bag to swap what mask you're wearing, to regain access to your inventory . . . or get turned into a slime and mistaken for a health potion by another adventurer.

Yup. And, it'll make that specific regular enemy into Priority Number 1 in any and all scenarios. Even when you aren't put into a superboss encounter by the little tricksters, becoming a reptilian lamia or draconid on a snowy mountain and watching your health rapidly decrease could be hellish.

More than one player will not realize that a Bagvoid actually made it into their bag until they try to talk to an Amazon NPC, get reduced to an Inchling, and get crunched . . . or, worse, become a Wallmouse while talking to their Lamia friend and get eaten by a friend in one go.

However, Bagvoids are a uniquely annoying enemy in a game where your primary puzzle solution and most of your combat options come from opening your bag to switch between masks- they seal off that inventory, and forcibly swap what mask you're wearing at random times.

For instance, there's little hidey-holes all over the place for your Inchling's Mask to get you fun goodies, and the necessary items for various sidequests. Having to push a lost earring like a boulder, because picking it up to put in your inventory means it would grow with you.

Spooky Halloween giantess, dressed in that signature black-and-orange, waking up to her romantic hyper-feminine gf being even bigger than she is . . . truly, you've given this couple quite the gift!