[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

You slowly get yourself off the couch, cracking your back before making your way sluggishly over to the cabin's bedroom.

The door's shut tight, and you hesitate while raising your wing up to it.

...he seemed...irritable. Easy to agitate.
But Roulette says he's cool, so-
Maybe...it'll be fine if I just-

 

You knock, screwing your eyes shut as you hear rustling behind the door-

It opens.

POLKA DOT: G-good morning!

 

You open your eyes.

Red cheeks.

FATALE: ...mmmgh.
POLKA DOT: Oh! Oh, uh-
POLKA DOT: Fatale, right?
FATALE: Y-yeah....
FATALE: ...what happened last night?
FATALE: I remember blacking out, and I woke up in bed...
POLKA DOT: U...uh....
POLKA DOT: Well-!
 

She narrows her bead eyes at you.

FATALE: You dealt with him, didn't you?
POLKA DOT: He! He wasn't all that bad!
POLKA DOT: He seemed more agitated than anything dangerous-
FATALE: You're lucky to be alive!
FATALE: You'd have done better tying him up or something- he could have killed you in your sleep!
POLKA DOT: No, he-
POLKA DOT: He just went to bed after the monster or whatever left.
POLKA DOT: Just...tired.
POLKA DOT: ...I didn't feel like he wanted to hurt me.
FATALE: ...hmph.
FATALE: Well...I am glad you're alive.
FATALE: Both in the cases of him and the monster.
FATALE: ...it didn't injure you? Or break in?
POLKA DOT: No, just...scared the shit out of both of us.
POLKA DOT: Felt some weird stuff too, but...it didn't attack.
FATALE: ...I wish I could ask Scout what it is.
FATALE: He would probably know...

 

Her voice is soft, forlorn.

She shakes out of it quickly, however, her eyes determined.

FATALE: We should get out there as soon as possible.
FATALE: ...the rest of our party needs you, after all.
POLKA DOT: Hey, they- they need you too. All of you.
FATALE: Please. Emotionally, yes.
FATALE: Physically, I am well aware of our status as dead weight.
FATALE: ...however, we also do have a compass.
FATALE: Due north, correct?
POLKA DOT: Think so...
FATALE: We head that way and look for landmarks.
FATALE: ...does that sound okay?
POLKA DOT: Works for me...let's eat and head off.





 

Tim sits there for a few moments, going over things in his head.

...okay. I don't- I don't remember which way we were going. That's really bad.
But I need to find the others. I don't want to leave them alone to have god knows what happen to them-
Shit, this is bad. Okay.
I'll eat something and go.

The scottie dog's jerky breakfast tastes dull and bland after the night he'd just had, any tastiness overridden by the sheer exhaustion weighing on him. Maybe he's just too dead to detect any flavor, but more than anything, he just hopes it's not an indicator of narrative fuckery-

Wait!

TIMOTHY: That's it!
TIMOTHY: S...surely...surely the narrative would find it dramatic if we reunited!
TIMOTHY: That would lead to the best story, right?
TIMOTHY: It'd be pretty crummy if I just survived that to die alone...
TIMOTHY: I just have to keep going! And- it'll-
 

...when has the narrative ever had my best interests in mind?
That whole thing in the Toy Store, the voices I heard-

....


....

No. I met my friends and made it to Laurie's.
I need to believe in something. Even if it's directionless for now.
I need- I need to have conviction!
And then I'll get where I'm going!

He finishes his jerky, tucking the empty bag in his pack before slinging it over his shoulders, grabbing his sword, and heading for the bulkhead.

Tim takes a moment to steel himself-


-unlocks the door-


-and hauls the doors open as best as he can with his shoulder, holding his sword tight.


They slam open with a crash, nearly scaring him out of his wits. Snow spills in from the outside, having fallen overnight in the storm. Spluttering, he makes his way out-


Nothing but clear white snow, completely untouched.

...here I come.









Cross gets up slowly, tiptoeing over to Roulette and the little car.

CROSSBONE: ...Roulette.

 

She keeps her voice quiet, but audible.

CROSSBONE: There's- your little friend is back. And on you.

 

The weasel is awoken by her voice, lifting its head to watch her warily.

It takes Roulette a while to do the same, at first just attempting to adjust itself.
The bot tries to roll to its side, but can't manage it with the car-weasel's extra weight.

ROULETTE: ...mmn...

 

Its lens barely opens, coming immediately face-to-face with the car.
Its lens Widens.

CROSSBONE: I-it's okay! It didn't hurt you at all!
CROSSBONE: I think it just, likes you!

 

Roulette looks slowly to its side, noting Cross, then back to the weasel.
The car is unmoving, looking back at Roulette with an impossible-to-read face.

ROULETTE: ...It is...still a wild animal.
ROULETTE: ...I won't assume anything. Let me...

 

It ever-so-slowly shifts itself towards the edge of the couch.
The weasel glances about, at first attempting to move enough to stay on the couch,
but eventually relenting and hopping to the floor.

It moves around to the other side of the couch, away from Cross, but still watches Roulette.



The bot stands, letting out a grunt of strain, holding to the couch.
It reaches over, snagging its scythe, which is promptly has to use to keep itself upright.

Roulette glances out the window.

ROULETTE: ...daylight. And looks like the blizzard has cleared up.
ROULETTE: We should try and regroup with the others.

 

It hobbles towards the door; clearly unsteady, but managing not to fall.
The car follows along.

ROULETTE: . . .
ROULETTE: I'm sorry, I do not have food for you.

 

The weasel keeps looking at the bot, occasionally glancing back at Cross.
Roulette sighs.

ROULETTE: ...this could be a problem.
ROULETTE: I imagine it expects food. It could become agitated and attack later if not given any.
ROULETTE: Or attack someone else later, for similar reasons.
ROULETTE: ...Or just steal more food from other people.
ROULETTE: I should have been more careful.
CROSSBONE: ...that is tricky...
CROSSBONE: Maybe...hmm....
CROSSBONE: Do you think it plays fetch?
CROSSBONE: We could throw something outside and book it.
CROSSBONE: ...kinda mean, but...
ROULETTE: It's fast enough that I doubt that would matter.
ROULETTE: And I do not want it to end up trapped in here.
ROULETTE: ...I'll try and think of something.

 

Roulette pushes the furniture out of the way of the sliding door, instantly exhausting itself in the process.

As it holds itself up on the wall, it stares out into the entryway.

ROULETTE: ...Willow.

 

Cross rushes over, fearing the worst.

CROSSBONE: Y-yeah?
CROSSBONE: Do you need help?

 

It doesn't look at her.

ROULETTE: ...I know it makes no difference.
ROULETTE: But I apologize for...everything yesterday.
ROULETTE: You should not have had to come find me. I should not have done what I did.
ROULETTE: And.
ROULETTE: ...all the things you...heard-
CROSSBONE: ...don't worry about it, okay?
CROSSBONE: I won't tell anyone about what happened if you don't want me to.
CROSSBONE: ...and I meant what I said.
CROSSBONE: Whatever went down between you and Polka...
CROSSBONE: I know her well enough at this point to know that if it was an issue, she would have said something about bringing you along.
CROSSBONE: And from what I can tell, she thinks pretty highly of you, so...
CROSSBONE: ...water under the bridge, okay?
ROULETTE: ...I appreciate it.
ROULETTE: But I think it's a bigger issue than that.
ROULETTE: ...You don't need to deal with any more of that, though.
ROULETTE: I'll do my best not to make any of this a problem.
ROULETTE: You barely know me. Me being your responsibility shouldn't have happened.
ROULETTE: I will do my best not to trouble you again, or...Polka, for that matter.
ROULETTE: I will handle and conduct myself better, as much as I'm able to.

 

It makes its way out of the living room, heading for the front door.
The car-weasel rolls along after it.

Cross stands there for a moment, steeling herself....before following suit.

It clutches the front door when it reaches it,
trying to disguise that it's holding onto it for support.

ROULETTE: ...and.
ROULETTE: ...thank you. For not letting me die.
ROULETTE: Devo, and the rest, did not need that weighing on them.
CROSSBONE: ...no one wants that for you, Roulette....
CROSSBONE: ...let's get back to them, alright?
ROULETTE: ...I'll get you back to her.

 

It opens the door, stepping out into piles upon piles of snow,
which immediately become difficult for the still-recovering bot to maneuver in.
It pushes forward regardless.

ROULETTE: ...we were on our way north.
ROULETTE: So, based on the sun's location...that way.
ROULETTE: ...I moved west and walked in parallel with you all, before, but I don't know which direction this manor is in relation.
ROULETTE: Do you remember which direction you went?
CROSSBONE: ...more west, I think.
CROSSBONE: It wouldn't be a bad idea to follow which direction the trees get thicker in, I think.
CROSSBONE: Hallowed Wood being the goal, and all.
ROULETTE: We can. But we also want enough of a field of view to spot the others.
ROULETTE: Northeast is likely our best bet, then.

 

It stumbles, and recovers.
The car nudges its leg, though the bot tries not to give it attention.

ROULETTE: Ready, Willow?

 

She nods, keeping a close eye on the bot.

CROSSBONE: Ready when you are.
CROSSBONE: ...let me know if you need help, okay?

 

It already seems to be stubbornly pushing itself beyond its limits.

ROULETTE: I appreciate it. I'll handle it.




 

The snow easily comes a quarter up your leg as you trudge through it, grateful for your snowpants. The trees are definitely getting thicker, and all you can really hope for is that the others are heading the same direction...

Fatale seems to be struggling through it, her expression furrowed and scrunched.

POLKA DOT: ...you holding up okay?
FATALE: I-I'm!
FATALE: I'm great-!
POLKA DOT: You don't have to lie.
FATALE: Not in the mood to bitch, believe it or not...
FATALE: Let's just keep moving.



 

It feels like an hour, maybe two, who even knows, passes before you see it.

A flash of red, to your east.

You squint.

Red, black, and white.

It freezes as you look over, shaking Fatale's shoulder for her to look.

FATALE: ...oh my god.

 

The shape starts running at you-

-and you run back towards him.

TIMOTHY: R-RIBBON!
TIMOTHY: F-FATALE!

 

The two of you slam together in a big hug, both of you shaking and trying not to cry.

POLKA DOT: Oh my god, I-
POLKA DOT: You blew right away-
TIMOTHY: You're okay, you're both okay-

 

He lets go after a moment, rushing over to Fatale.

It's clear he wants a hug, but he hesitates, unsure how to handle the situation.

Fatale rolls her eyes, relenting.

FATALE: ...come here.

 

She opens her arms, Tim wrapping his own around with a delicacy that surprises her.

TIMOTHY: ...I'm so sorry.
TIMOTHY: I- you were going to try and trust me-
TIMOTHY: And I left you alone.
TIMOTHY: I'm...I'm so sorry.

 

His shoulders start shaking again, Fatale giving him a light, awkward pat on the back.

FATALE: Please.
FATALE: I'm not about to blame you for the worst storm I've ever seen.
FATALE: Give me some credit.
TIMOTHY: I-

 

Tim pulls back, wiping his eyes and nodding.

TIMOTHY: ...okay. You're right.
TIMOTHY: I'm just- I'm so relieved you're okay...
POLKA DOT: I mean, same here! Sheesh...
FATALE: ...

 

Fatale pulls away, rubbing her elbow.

FATALE: Do...you think Roulette and Willow are okay?
POLKA DOT: ...they have to be.
POLKA DOT: Just.
POLKA DOT: They gotta.




 

The three of you start trudging further north, the light filtering in through the canopy overhead just enough to have a good idea of where you were going. There's not a lot of conversation, everyone too exhausted to even go into the night prior...and fearful of the status of the other two party members.


Your party reaches a clearing where the trees thin.


Far to the east, you spot an odd-looking, large figure.

You squint.



Two figures.
One hold the other up by the shoulder as they walk in tandem.

You practically drop your backpack in order to run, Fatale and Tim following behind as best as theye can with their packs still on.

POLKA DOT: WILLOW!
FATALE: Is that Roulette?!
POLKA DOT: I-I think so!
TIMOTHY: Fuck, is it okay-?!





ROULETTE: ...Willow.

 

The camera-bot gestures the virtual pet towards the east horizon.



There's a sense of relief in its voice.
Though, it doesn't seem entirely eager.

The car-weasel, meanwhile, keeps itself hidden behind the bot.

CROSSBONE: Oh my-!

 

Cross doesn't drop Roulette or speed up, simply letting out a string of loud beeps and lashing her chain tail around.

CROSSBONE: H-HEY! WE'RE OVER HERE!

 

You're practically falling over yourself as you stumble in front of them, taking a minute to catch yourself before realizing that you cannot immediately go for the hug move while Roulette's being propped up.

POLKA DOT: I...I knew you two would be okay.
CROSSBONE: I promised.

 

Roulette notices the lack of hug and pulls away from Cross, using its scythe to hold itself up.
Allowing the two to do so.

You squeak one in, giving Cross a huge squeeze.

Fatale's caught up in the meantime, rushing over to Roulette.

FATALE: I-!
FATALE: I'm so glad you're okay-

 

The bot nods, unable to drum up much excitement in its exhausted state.

ROULETTE: I...am. Very, very glad you are alright.
ROULETTE: I am sorry I left. I cannot apologize enough.
ROULETTE: It was extremely foolish of me, and I put...you, Willow, everyone in danger-
FATALE: You're back now!
FATALE: Don't do that again, but-
FATALE: ...I'm...just glad you're back.
FATALE: I was scared that- I was scared that our last conversations would have been-

 

She turns away, slightly.

FATALE: ...I didn't want you to die having hated me.

 

It finally, properly looks up.

ROULETTE: ...I have never hated you. Any of you.
ROULETTE: I Never Could.
ROULETTE: ...please...please don't think that.

 

Oil pools at the edges of its lens, barely visible,
unable to hold back all of the emotions that'd been building.

FATALE: I'm-
FATALE: I'm sorry-
ROULETTE: You do not owe me an apology.
ROULETTE: You did Not do anything wrong.
ROULETTE: I-

 

It tries to take a step forward, and loses its balance, barely managing to catch itself with its scythe.
Its repositioning inadvertently reveals the weasel-car hiding behind it.

Fatale's eyes widen-

-but she prioritizes helping Roulette back up, choosing to squint over its shoulder at the car and give it a clear warning sign.

The car squeezes itself up behind Roulette's legs, eyes wide.

It lets out the tiniest growl at Fatale; brief, and clearly frightened.

ROULETTE: Sorry-
ROULETTE: It. Followed me. It hasn't Stopped following me.
ROULETTE: I don't want to antagonize it.
ROULETTE: ...I have been doing my best not to give it affection or food or, anything, hoping it will leave.
ROULETTE: But it-

 

The car nudges against the bot's leg.

ROULETTE: ...it does not want to leave.
ROULETTE: I am not sure what to do.
FATALE: ...it didn't attack you?
FATALE: Or try to steal again?
ROULETTE: No.
ROULETTE: It-

 

Roulette struggles to speak, looking at the ground.
Embarrassed, maybe?
It's always difficult to tell.

ROULETTE: Slept.
ROULETTE: ...On....me.
ROULETTE: I assumed it might've been cold, but.
ROULETTE: I had nearly frozen to death, I wasn't warm.
ROULETTE: And I was just next to a fireplace. It could have laid down beside the couch instead, closer to the fireplace.
ROULETTE: ...I assume it's still just waiting for food. I have no idea.
TIMOTHY: ...maybe it likes you?
FATALE: Wait, you-
FATALE: You nearly froze to death?

 

Her eyes go wide.

CROSSBONE: I helped where I could, but...
CROSSBONE: I'm really glad that I found it.
ROULETTE: It-
ROULETTE: Sorry. I should not have phrased it like that.
ROULETTE: It wasn't that dire.
ROULETTE: And Willow helped tremendously.
ROULETTE: You do not need to worry.
ROULETTE: Is everyone else alright?
ROULETTE: We should keep moving, if everyone's ready.

 

Cross seems to consider saying something, but sighs.

CROSSBONE: Heading north more is our best bet. We're almost there.
FATALE: Let's get on with it, then...
TIMOTHY: I'm in favor. We can talk on the way.
POLKA DOT: Lemme just get my bag...

 

You head back to get your backpack, hauling it on....and going on your way with the rest, finally reunited.



You are now back in control of Polka Dot. There's a lot to talk about...