They tilt their hood at Corsair.

You are beginning to wonder if this trip is a good idea- for an entirely new, unexpected reason.


This guy is annoying as fuck.

Your chest sinks.

She shrugs.

That immediately hits a nerve, the curse user writhing around and kicking their legs.

Her thumb claw points over to Cross.

An enormous flash of light sears through the clearing, blinding you, your ears ringing-




Your screen fizzles as you try to get your bearings- when did you fall over? When-



The curse user isn't in Corsair's glove any more.



They're in front of you.



Their head tilts.

They move their sleeve in a flourish, a black and white paw visible as they hold some kind of...lightbulb.

They throw it at the ground, shattering it into the snow.


Black ooze seeps out from the shards, a sickening feeling growing in your chest.

The entire world goes dark.







You feel the pulse.


It starts slow, faint colors cutting through the abyss. 




It gets louder, each throbbing beat making it more clear.

Neon, blacklight contours, as if the clearing was sketched in glowing ink. 

At first, Corsair is


baffled.
Extremely so.

Not having a clue how they'd gotten out.



Only to spot the light.



She rushes over,
getting between it and you.

You realize how awful that sounds.

You sway from side to side as you walk.

She scratches the back of her neck.

She holds up her scepter.

The cowboy snaps her claws.

She leans the scepter up over her shoulder.

You do an anxious, awkward shoulder gesture.

Her head tilts ever-so-slightly.

You realize you may have said too much.

It comes out too fast.

SHIT




Corsair doesn't respond to that.

She stops, turning to you.

Corsair resumes walking.




You rub your elbow before continuing after her.












It's quiet.









Not long after she'd started walking again,


she stops.






Saying nothing.












The woods feel darker, than before;
trees closing in.











There's a distinct chill.










You slow down before stopping in place.

She flicks her scepter out, spinning it in her claw to a ready position.



You immediately reach for your hatchet, a low, strained beep escaping you as a distorted giggle echoes.








You are in a circular clearing.

Why hadn't you noticed before?






Why hadn't you noticed it getting dark?



What was-









What a cute backstory!



Corsair takes a deep breath.




Her scepter raises,
glowing with gorgeous hues; like nothing you've ever seen.
Buzzing like neon.


She twirls it gently, in a sweeping motion.



Then, flicks it to the side.




A flash of light emanates from not too far away in the woods.









Something rushes towards them both,
before redirecting to not far in front of them in the clearing.


A



giant, floating white glove
holds a figure up by their collar, floating not far off the ground.


Her eyes open again.

The figure is cloaked, but

clearly toy scale, hands on their hips and visibly annoyed from posture alone.

A tail lashes under their robe.

Their tone is mocking, a spiteful mimicry of a petulant child.

The laughter leaves their voice.

Corsair grimaces.

The cowboy tilts her head back to you.

The hand deliberately dangles them about.

They make a loud indignant hiss, tail lashing more and more.

She yawns.

An irritated beep bursts out of you as your pixel character wiggles in unmasked annoyance.

Your keychain tail lashes, Snicker's brows raising as it makes imprints in the snow.

Snicker keeps her eyes trained on you-

-before laughing, a mechanical barking sound.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, and not particularly kindly.

Corsair is simply staring at Snicker at this point, but she just seems to look tired more than anything.

You feel your circuits short for a moment, the coldness to her tone making you wish you hadn't asked.

She hesitates.

She opens her arms dramatically, eyes narrowing.

There's no joy to it.

Snicker's jaw clamps shut.





Her painted animatronic eyes roll to the side.

She rolls her eyes.

Corsair leans her scepter to the side, pointing at you.

You have been frozen to the spot.

...all that to go get told to ask somebody else...


You do your best to avoid looking stupid.

She reaches for the crank at her side, raising the metal gate-

-the only thing ahead of you looking like long stretches of snow and trees.






Zero signage at all.

Corsair leans her scepter on her shoulder and steps through the open gate.

She gives a wave, not looking in Snicker's direction.

You quickly catch up behind her-

And then the gate closes.

She gives the slightest of shrugs.

The snake rubs her face.

You shake your head.

You nod a little.

She's ahead of you, not looking in your direction.

But it seems like she can tell, somehow.

She rubs her chin with a thumb, then shrugs.

She raises her scepter a few inches and taps it, showing it to you.

The colors catch your eye.

She stares at you.

The animatronic is not taking the bait.

She makes a spitting sound, the intent obvious even without any saliva involved.

You try and fail not to flinch.

She points to your screen face.

Corsair grabs Snicker's wrist, yanking her over to face the snake instead.

Her grip tightens, staring Snicker down.

Snicker bares her teeth for a moment, her eyelids shifting into their angry state just as briefly-

-before she yanks her hand away.

The nod she gives is exaggerated, a little huff escaping.

You wring your hands.

You take a moment before nodding.

You open your hands about as large as you remember.

Your pixel character can't help but make a nervous shimmy.

She turns her head just enough to glance over at you, but makes no further comment.

You glance around, letting out a soft beep as you notice rustling in one of the nearby trees- nothing large, but-

The snake rubs her shoulder, looking somewhat nervous.

hope i didnt offend



You point at the trees, some rustling still going.

You snap your head to attention.

Sure enough, a massive wall of wooden stacking logs lays ahead, a structure in your direct path.

It looks...scratched up and stained, having clearly seen better days, but incredibly sturdy.

A metal gate- actual metal from the look of it, not plastic...and god, *old* too- is built into the frame, clearly custom fastened for a secure fit.





You can't help but feel somewhat awestruck by it. Actual metal architecture, such a rarity in the city-



Corsair lets you marvel at the metal, while she approaches the guard leaning by the gate.

The cowboy nods back in your direction.

Snicker lets out a-

....mechanical *snore*, before snapping awake with an animatronic CHUNK.


Her eyes snap open, jaw gnashing a few times- you really, really do not like the look of those teeth, even if you desperately try to assure yourself she's just...getting her bearings.

Sure enough, her tone is cordial.

She grins, hefting the scepter up onto her shoulder.

You look over at Corsair, hoping your confusion is more discrete than it feels.

The cowboy steps to the side, blocking Snicker's view of you.

You bow, hard enough to make your keychain tail rattle.

Snicker's scary mouth clamps shut, shocked.

She grabs you by a horn with her massive paw and yanks you upright, getting a surprised chirp.

The cowboy instantly pulls Snicker's hand off of you.

Snicker nearly shifts to the manic, teeth bared state-

Before slowly grinding her gears back down, pulling her hand out of Corsair's gently.

She slaps the gate wall.

The words sting.

She glances over at Corsair.

Corsair's grip tightens around the scepter, her wooden claw nearly balling into a fist.
She's staring daggers, though Snicker doesn't seem to notice at all.
The snake says nothing, regardless.

You have the floor.

...and Snicker has the information.
Picking your words could get you some important clues.

You are now in control of Crossbone.

You're doing a good job of looking upbeat, you think. Excited. Ready to get cursed! 


Yeah!









Your battery panel itches around the seams, something you try to shove out of your mind. 


Everything's packed to go, and thankfully, your supplies and belongings are way more intact than you thought. The only main loss was your food supplies and some bandages, but your hatchet is safe and looking good to go. 

....you'd rather not think about how the plastic has a permanent-looking black stain, though. It did sink into that thing's eye, but....



Focus.

Corsair seems to be carrying nothing in particular, other than that scepter of hers.

You look over your shoulder at the intensive care unit.

Her scepter suddenly pulls her arm that direction as well, but the cowboy yanks it back just as quickly.

You let out a soft, inquisitive beep.

You feel a slight sense of unease.

The ICU's door opens, getting you to snap to attention as Guthrie steps into view.

The blanket plush claps her flap-like paws together, no sound made at all.

Scout immediately perks up.

He looks down at the mess of supplies burying his lap.

You remember carrying Roulette's frozen, broken down body.



How terrified you felt.







The fear that it might not have woken up, that you've been suffocating for the sake of the others' worry-
















...and that you did not do enough.

Guthrie makes room for you, every step feeling heavy  as you make your way inside.

You find Roulette half-curled up in the small room, curtains still drawn by the window.

It still doesn't look good at all, but you do your best not to think about that
Its aperture is very slightly open, but it's sleeping, as far as you can tell; its chest rising and falling with simulated breath.













It's hard to look at in this state.







Something about it makes you feel sick.

It's hard to keep yourself in the room any longer.




I-
I should-
I should say something I should-

And you are immediately out of there.


Corsair meets you at the far end of the room once you gather your things to go.

You point to the magical scepter, keeping your eyes off of the orb.

The colors are mesmerizing.

Swirling, drifting about in the scepter's crystal.



Until Corsair moves it around to the other side of herself, blocking it from view.

Tim trusts her. 
That'll be good for now.

Your attention's caught by hearing the dog in question in a conversation with Scout- a distressed one, from the sound of it.

You approach carefully-

Seeing that the two of them are staring at the space between their cots.

He refuses to look at either you or Scout.

It hits you that he's on the verge of tearing up, his voice strained.

She looks conflicted.

Cross lets out a shy beep, rubbing her elbow.

You walk over to sift through your pack, trying to find something-

-pulling out an admittedly wrecked-looking pom pom hat.

Cross does her characteristic pixel wiggle before taking your hat, holding it to her chest and settling down in bed.

You feel that warm glow in your chest, pleasantly familiar.

The bear looks over at Tim.

They turn to their gay endeavors, leaving you and Corsair again.

She steps over and flops into the empty bed next to Tim, only to wince.
The cowboy's scepter glows for a moment, and she grimaces, before dropping it onto the floor next to the wall.

With a sigh, she removes her poncho.

Tim shoots him a look, the bear snuggled up to him so thoroughly that they looked like two  heads sticking out of the shared blanket. 

Once her poncho is off, the snake sprawls out with a big stretch,
keeping her hat resting over her face to block the light.

His voice is a whisper.

He sighs before allowing himself to rest on Scout's shoulder, trying not to look embarrassed.

He can't help but laugh, not particularly happily.

Cross nods, avoiding looking at his face.

Corsair is glancing in Scout's direction from under the brim of her hat.

Though, only Tim notices.
He tries not to look obvious, maintaining his current expression.

He panics, ears flopping up as the bear leans on him dramatically.

The cowboy grins, but it's gone just as quickly as it appears.
Tim unclenches at that, allowing the bear this  moment of respite.

Theyre sweet....
.....

A flash of Lickety's rage-filled face in your mind, splattered with tar.

.....
I can't blame Cross for being worried for him.

Almost as if she could hear you, she reaches for your wing-

-the character on her face making a sleepy expression.

You smile, aware how exhausted it looks on your face, before tucking Cross in and laying back in your own bed.











....Corsair wasn't kidding. This bed is awful. 






Wow.








Ceiling is unfamiliar, too.
Have you even slept in a room that WASN'T yours or Cross' at Laurie's before this whole mess? Surely-





Toy store, sure, but-





It's





probably not a huge deal










people do sleepovers all the time

Cross looks up, uncorking a large nail polish remover bottle. The cap is the size of her entire  hand, the brush as big as her forearm. 

The liquid drips, a sense of trepidation filling your chest. You don't like it.

She lowers it to her arm, making a pained beep as it eats at the skull-shaped paint markings there.

You try to grab her arm, the plastic crumbling at the touch. You reel back, letting out a terrified squeak-

When you look up, a black liquid "crack" appears to have materialized on her screen, spreading slowly.

A pixel goes dead, and then another.

A horrible, dull beep can be heard in the back of your mind.

You wake up gripping your blanket so tight you almost rip it.

You blink, catching your breath.

Your girlfriend is standing there, wringing her plastic hands.

Intact, and skull-patterned hands.

She lets out a startled beep as you wrap her in a huge hug, squeezing her hard shell as much as you could- your body denting before hers ever would.

You immediately detach, Cross looking a mix of flustered, sad the hug was over, and nervous.

She nods, chirping.

The snake's tongue flicks.

She jumps.

You look over, Scout rummaging through his own bag and Tim taking inventory.

The virtual pet's keychain tail rattles.

The cowboy is already putting her poncho back on, stretching her neck.

You lean in to whisper to Cross.

You feel a slight twist in your belly, but-

The snake stands, snagging her scepter from the floor.
She nods towards Scout and Tim.

Tim finally looks up from his sorting.

The snake tilts her head to the side, tapping her scepter against her shoulder.

You may now pick which party members to control.
All routes will  be fully and equally revealed at some point in the future, but you will only be able to control One.

ROUTES:
Polka
Scout + Tim
Corsair + Cross

Vann freezes, unsure what to say.

She gives what is very clearly a forced embroidered smile.

And then deflates, giving you a tired, defeated look.

You strike a pose, leaning your wing onto the table.

She drops her voice down, nice and quiet.

You startle at the pleading look in her glass eyes.

She pauses.

Her face lights up.

Her face is tinted with pink blush, the cat rubbing the back of her head and looking sheepish all of a sudden.

The anatomy model saunters back in with a piling heap of-

...gummy...sandwiches?

You look between the two toys-

Gutsy, with a beaming expression on its face-

And Vann, looking panicked with wide glass eyes and faux fur standing on end.

It holds out the jiggling stack.

You get your tower of gummy sandwiches and give the two of them a nod, wobbling your way back to the room.....

His shoulders slump a little bit.

The snake keeps her head forward as her eyes glance over.

He laughs, nervously.

Tim's tone softens, the dog looking down at his lap.

She's quiet a moment.

She sighs and shakes her head, eyes looking up in exacerbation.

Her wooden claws tap at the scepter.

He takes a deep breath,  squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

And then exhale.

He stops for a moment, realizing how fast he was talking.

Another breath.

He blinks.

The snake arches her back, stretching.

He couldn't help but laugh softly, a lot less anxious this time.

She chuckles.

He trails off for a moment to gather his thoughts, eyes wandering to the snake's scepter.

Colors swirl in the crystal at the top of the scepter.
The dog finds himself transfixed

until Corsair picks it up off the table, holding it in her claw.

She switches it to her left claw, away from Tim.

She snickers, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

The snake stands up with a stretch.

The snake laughs; it comes out rickety, like wood clanking together.

She twirls her staff, heading for the door.

He hurries along, swerving around other bargoers and following close behind.

The crowd seems to part for her, almost supernaturally.

Soon enough, the pair reach the door; making their way out and down the steps.

The stairs feel especially precarious going back down, Tim trying not to get too caught up in the brief exposure to the cold air as the two of them walk back from the bar to the lodge.

Once they step back inside the main building, he lets out a soft sigh.

She rolls her arm, shaking off the cold.

He takes the lead now, gesturing for her to follow.

He can't say he'd missed the hunting trophies lining the walls, his tail tucked as nerves settle in. A brief attempt to speed up only makes him realize how sore his body is, forcing him to slow.

She props him up briefly with her arm.

He nods, taking it without protest.

She grins.

Tim snickers.

He freezes, the sound of footsteps approaching as he reaches a junction.

A familiar looking walkie talkie steps by, sipping a mug of something.

She tips the brim of her hat.

She nods, following Tim along.


Tim waits until they're out of earshot, approaching the infirmary door.

The wooden snake smiles.

Tim hesitates-

-and nods.

The door opens slowly, Tim peeking his head in.

The door opens fully, revealing the wooden snake cowboy.

Scout and Cross freeze- Polka still not back.

She gives a slight wave to Scout as she steps in.

The snake scans the room, idly spinning her scepter on occasion as she passes by everyone.

She gives Tim a confused look, the dog making an indiscernible hand gesture.

She spots the empty bed.

The snake looks to Tim, tongue flicking.

He shoots Cross a tired look.

The virtual pet sighs, a soft, droning beep.

As she steps to the end of the room, the snake's scepter suddenly pulls her arm in the direction of the window, pointing to Roulette's room.

She looks mildly surprised for an instant, but shakes it off quickly enough that Scout and Cross don't even seem to spot it.
The two only see her pointing the scepter at the window.

Tim tries not to let his nerves creep up.

She practically has to pry the scepter away from the curtain-covered window; once more only noticed by Tim.

The snake steps back over by Tim, leaning against the wall next to him.

Scout makes a noise of mock-shock.

He winks, the beanie dog blushing.

She pats his shoulder.

He can't help but laugh, albeit shyly . His eyes widen as Scout gets out of bed, walking with a significant wobble towards the snake.

The yellow tinted bear gets close enough to get a good look at Corsair, peering all around her- and at her scepter.

Corsair stares.

Then, cracks up laughing.

She tilts her head.

He freezes.





No one speaks.



She glances around.

You could have heard a pin drop.


She holds her scepter up.

The snake resumes her posture against the wall, as if nothing had happened.

Tim's voice comes out cold- a complete and utter tonal shift from earlier, one difficult to distinguish whether it was full of anger, fear, or both.

She looks under the brow of her hat, over at Tim.

The snake stretches her back; her voice entirely calm as she settles back in her spot.

Tim growls, a startlingly serious noise.

He can't meet Scout's eyes.

The bear turns to Corsair, hands on his hips.

She sighs a little.

The snake looks up at the ceiling, then moves her claw to point around the room.

She points out of the room.

The snake then points at the bear.

Tim weighs the scepter in his hands, having to tear his eyes away from its shimmering colors...

I gotta give this back...
...especially seeing how stern that toy was with the crowd. Something's up there, and I don't wanna be on their bad side...

He takes a moment to steel his nerves before slowly walking over, shimmying as inconspiciously as possible.

Once near the snake, he clears his throat.
They hold out their hand expectantly, and he passes it over immediately.

They take the scepter and set it down on the bar, tapping it to stop it from rolling.

They hold up the staff.

Tim peers over at the staff, eyes widening.

The snake peers over at him for the first time, toy tongue flicking.

They snort.

They take a swig of their drink,
then cock their head to the side.

Just enough to see Tim.

Tim glances away instinctively, before forcing himself to make eye contact.

The snake looks forward, taking a drink.
They crack their neck and roll their shoulders.

They look back over at Tim.

He pales.

They raise their glass slightly in affirmation.

His keeps his tone even, trying not to sound accusatory- or too excited.

He leans in, lowering his voice.

He shakes his head.

The snake squints.

The snake's claw raises towards him from their poncho,
ready to shake.

He extends his own paw, trying to keep his grip steady as he takes their hand and shakes.

His eyes light right up, tail wagging.

The snake smiles.

He fumbles with his hands, trying to gesture what he means and failing.

She smiles and laughs.

S-she said-!!!!!!!

His tail only wags harder, eyes bright and excited.

Shit! Okay, right, remember where we are-

He drops his voice down to a quiet whisper, cupping his muzzle and leaning in.

She turns fully towards Tim on the barstool.
The snake twirls her scepter in one claw before pointing to her chest with it.

She laughs.

Tim nods, a bit too eagerly.

...she's so cool...

The snake can't help but snicker, patting his shoulder.

You nod, unable to keep from smiling at its enthusiasm.

Vann gives the walkie talkie a quick, grateful bow before turning to you.

Comms starts walking out, the cat looking even more nervous.