[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

You back away from the window, gesturing for Fatale to join you.

Another sound cuts through the dark, a deeper voice- growling and snarling.

Devo, my Devotion....
Where did you go?
You can't hide from me forever.

Fatale makes a strangled sound, taking more than the few steps back you suggested. She's already with her back to the far wall, her chest heaving.

FATALE: He's-
FATALE: He's found us-
POLKA DOT: C-calm down-

 

Polly, where are you?
We never finished our job!
Don't you remember?

 

Your ribbon feels like it's choking you.

POLKA DOT: We-
POLKA DOT: We need to spread out-
FATALE: Don't l-leave me alone with him!

 

Her voice comes out shrill, desperate.

Come here.

The words seem to boom, shaking both of you to your core- it's both voices at once, feeling out of sync and distorted.

The lights outside seem to come closer.

POLKA DOT: I-if we spread out-
POLKA DOT: It won't be able to focus on both of us-
FATALE: Where are we supposed to go, Ribbon?!

 

She's practically screaming now, grabbing at her chest and gripping it tight enough to bunch her coat fabric in her fist.

Be a good girl and come here.

Fatale lets out a strangled noise before collapsing to her knees, covering her ears.

One more down.

You hear Daemon's voice as clear as day, shaking you to your core.

It'll be a quick slice.

Fatale's cheeks tint black.

Isn't it something when they burst?

You feel the weight of a bat in your wings.

 

---

 

Tim scrambles to his feet, every part of him screaming to run, to get out of here-

Curly, don't you want to be my little girl-?

He snatches up his sword as he dives behind a crate, narrowly avoiding cutting himself on the blade in the process.

TIMOTHY: Shit, shit-

 

Another slam on the bulkhead, Tim's head pounding along with it.

I thought you cared about me-

The scottie dog lets out a whimper, covering his muzzle with his scarf.

Don't let her hear you, don't let her hear you-!

My Cuuuurly girly.
I know what you need, you need me to take care of you...

 

The door will hold. It'll hold, it has to hold-

I...I need to get through this.

For Devo, and Silk Ribbon, and- and Fatale, and Roulette, and Cross, and all of the others-

I need to-

CURLY

 

---

 

Roulette is shaking hard enough for its parts to sound loose.

It trudges forward regardless, going for the privacy screen.
But, its legs fail, and it catches itself on the couch, looking barely mobile still.
The bot tries to prop its scythe on the floor in order to stand back up, but it isn't going well.

CROSSBONE: R-roulette! You need-

 

She's struggling with her own words, her hands shaking.

CROSSBONE: You need to let me do this-!

 

With an extended, distorted beep, she pushes past the weight pooling in her legs- as if she herself was feeling frost creep up them- and getting to the door opening.


The void hangs in front of her.

ROULETTE: Don-
ROULETTE: Don't...get close, I can-
ROULETTE: I can-
 

You need to listen to me. I'm trying to keep you alive.


The second voice speaks into her ear again.

 

It's dangerous.
More dangerous than the rest of you.
Remember what Polka Dot said?
It's the strongest of you.
You've seen how it fights. You know it is.

ROULETTE: Willow-
CROSSBONE: Rou-
CROSSBONE: Roulette is my friend!

 

She grips the side of the door, her hands trembling. She can feel the grease and grime of digging through trash all over her fingertips.

It is? You don't even know who it is.
Faysal isn't someone you're safe around.

Cross can hear that Roulette has managed to stand behind her.

ROULETTE: I can-
ROULETTE: Let me handle th-

 

Why do you think it doesn't want you to be by the exit?
It doesn't want you to leave.

ROULETTE: That is Not-
ROULETTE: Denny, pl-

 

Oil streams from its lens.

ROULETTE: I wouldn't-!

 

And if it's Really your friend,



Then why did it try to kill your girlfriend once already?



Roulette stops moving.
Its aperture is open wide.

 

The exit is open.
You have an advantage.
It'll be stalled in just a moment.
While you can,

 

RUN!

ROULETTE: . . .
ROULETTE: I. W.

 

Don't worry.

The first voice comes from behind Roulette.
It tries to swivel, to swipe its scythe in that direction.
But it can't move fast enough to even try.

I still love you.
I always will.

Its arm twitches upward as it gasps loudly and stumbles away.
As if it'd knocked something off itself.

It freezes, sickle vibrating in its claws.
Its head sparks and sputters.

You poor thing.
It's good I found you.

 

Roulette's shoulders wrench upwards, its elbows nearly pushing together.
The motion throws its stance off entirely.
Its sickle clatters to the floor.

 

I've got you.

 

It squirms like vermin caught in a snare.
Oil stains its wet clothes as it trembles, its parts heaving.

ROULETTE: ...o-oNn-n me-e-on-m-me-!

 

Come on.
Why the tears?
You could look a lot happier that I'm back.

Give me a smile.
I can always tell when you smile.

You look so Cute.

 

Its aperture shuts, hanging in an awkward standing position.
As if it's being held there.
Oily tears continue on regardless.

ROULETTE: -OnMe-on-n-nmm-e-ePle-ea-s-s-s