[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

You look away.

POLKA DOT: I...don't want to decide that. Not yet.
POLKA DOT: Not without talking to my friends.

 

Mange grumbles, leaning onto one wing.

MANGE: I was kind of hoping you were the "ask questions later" leaderly type.
POLKA DOT: Sorry to disappoint.
POLKA DOT: You said I'm the least injured one.
POLKA DOT: They won't cause you trouble. Stuck in bed, right?

 

He grumbles again, looking more and more annoyed.

SNICKER: Might not be so dumb after all. She's giving you hell-
MANGE: Snicker.

 

The animatronic chuckles, looking away.

POLKA DOT: I'm just gonna sit here-
MANGE: Mmmgh.
POLKA DOT: and wait for them to wake up.
POLKA DOT: No trouble from me.
POLKA DOT: I almost just died- so did my friends.
POLKA DOT: Last thing I want to do right now is run around and get into more shit.
MANGE: But you will.
MANGE: For your girlfriend's sake.

 

Something twinges you in a bad place about the way he says it.

POLKA DOT: You got a problem with-
MANGE: Why in the hell would you want that?!
MANGE: I'll take the opportunity to blow this magical pest's head off easy, but-

 

You feel rage boil up inside your chest.

POLKA DOT: It's IMPORTANT to her.

 

He gives you an unamused look.

POLKA DOT: It's-
POLKA DOT: She needs this!
POLKA DOT: It'll make her more herse-

 

Snicker lets out a low hiss, Mange's expression freezing into one you can't discern- but it's not happy.

MANGE: Stop.
POLKA DOT: But-!
MANGE: You want to survive in this town?

 

He leans in, his beady eyes boring a hole into your head.

MANGE: Don't say shit like that.
POLKA DOT: ....

 

Your anger's still there, but something about the tone of his voice-

You start feeling very, very scared.

POLKA DOT: W-why-
MANGE: I've seen your friends' bodies in the infirmary.
MANGE: Had to, to assess the damage.
MANGE: I know one of them is modded.

 

....oh
oh god

MANGE: I don't care what this is for you. A fetish, something you "need", whatever.
MANGE: But I have been running this place-
MANGE: And I have inherited it from old faith.
POLKA DOT: ...f...faith?
MANGE: The kind of people who don't take kindly to things that challenge them.
MANGE: I make the changes I make-
MANGE: But if I kick all of those people out, the people who want this shit stamped out-
MANGE: We would go under and die.
MANGE: I need hunters. Builders. Workers.
MANGE: You try getting people to stick around in a place like this.

 

He almost spits it out.

MANGE: SO-
MANGE: If you want to not get your shit kicked in-
MANGE: Don't tell them the real reason you're here.
MANGE: Make a cover story.
MANGE: Keep your heads down.
POLKA DOT: I-

 

You're stunned, glancing over and seeing Snicker staring right at you.

As soon as you make eye contact, she looks away, her face twisted into a pained grimace.

You look back at Mange, his face grave.

POLKA DOT: B-but-
POLKA DOT: You're in charge-


 

The wolfduck says nothing.

POLKA DOT: ....
POLKA DOT: Does-
POLKA DOT: Does it have to be-
MANGE: Don't you think I've tried?

 

His voice comes out hushed.

MANGE: Just...do what I say.
MANGE: Or a ragmirror's the least of your worries.

 

Neither of you look away, the tension killing you.

i-
it's not-

it's not right

POLKA DOT: ...okay.



 

You're not even able to process a further response before another toy enters the room, coming out of a door on the wall behind you.

????: Well!
????: Good news!

 

You can only hear them approaching from your current position, their footsteps soft.

MANGE: They awake?
????: Mostly!
MANGE: Well, look at that.

 

Mange gives you a look.

MANGE: Our conversation is over.

 

The toy in question comes into view, a startlingly flat person- a blanket? yeah, those are quilted patches- wearing a warm shawl not unlike the one you had back at Laurie's. There's a plush head on top, looking like a cutesy lion- and little paws on the corners of the blanket to match, both for hands and feet.

????: Aw, are you being mean to her?
????: Don't mind Mange, he's a big softie deep down-

 

Mange squeezes his eyes shut.

MANGE: Guthrie.
GUTHRIE: Very deep!

 

Snicker can't help but let out an amused snort, Mange's brow furrowing further.

MANGE: Can you show-

 

He sits there for a moment.

GUTHRIE: Did you not ask for her na-
MANGE: Mmmmmmmgh.
GUTHRIE: Your manners, man!
GUTHRIE: Well, I haven't been raised in a barn.

 

They step forward, extending a little blanket paw.

GUTHRIE: As you heard, I'm Guthrie.
GUTHRIE: I run the lodge's, well, lodging aspects, as well as the infirmary.
SNICKER: They're the only doctor we have, so get used to them.
POLKA DOT: ...the only one?
GUTHRIE: Oh, yes. But I'm very skilled.

 

You nervously look at Snicker, who shrugs.

GUTHRIE: But-
GUTHRIE: Please! Introduce yourself.
POLKA DOT: I'm, uh-
POLKA DOT: ....
POLKA DOT: Silk Ribbon.
GUTHRIE: What a lovely name!

 

They point to your choker.

GUTHRIE: And an accessory to match!

 

You can't help but give a tired smile at that.

POLKA DOT: T..thanks.
GUTHRIE: You want me to show you to your friends?

 

You're immediately out of the chair, wincing at how suddenly you moved.

Body's still sore...

POLKA DOT: Yes. Yes, uh- yes please.
MANGE: Hey, Guth-

 

The two of you pause, turning to face him.

MANGE: That, uh. The robot.
MANGE: He doing okay?
GUTHRIE: It uses, um, it, actually!
GUTHRIE: Its friends were very clear on that.
MANGE: ...got it.
MANGE: Well, don't let it fucking die.
MANGE: The state it was in, and all.

 

You feel a bit sick.

POLKA DOT: I...is Roulette okay?
GUTHRIE: Oh, I mean-
GUTHRIE: Come with me, and I'll give you the gist.

 

Guthrie starts leading you down a hall, the lodge's wooden walls feeling far less cozy and far more oppressive now.

GUTHRIE: So...the damage.
GUTHRIE: We have five beds in our infirmary- four for standard patients, and one for more intensive care.
GUTHRIE: Three of your friends- Devo, Willow, and Tim-
GUTHRIE: Are in the normal ones. They're all up right now.
POLKA DOT: And they're-?
GUTHRIE: Okay would be a stretch, but....
GUTHRIE: They're taking well to my healing spells.

 

...that's a thing?

POLKA DOT: I-
POLKA DOT: None of us are, uh-
GUTHRIE: Not used to magic?
POLKA DOT: Not even a little bit.
GUTHRIE: Well!
GUTHRIE: I can't fix everything, but I can do some mending without needing traditional supplies or repair techniques.
POLKA DOT: ...just like that?
GUTHRIE: I mean...
GUTHRIE: It does hurt!
GUTHRIE: Quite a bit!
POLKA DOT: Ah.
GUTHRIE: For all parties, actually!
POLKA DOT: ...Ah.
GUTHRIE: But, sincerely, I don't mind.
GUTHRIE: Everyone's been very charming.

 

That's a way to put our bunch...

POLKA DOT: Wait-
POLKA DOT: So, Roulette-
GUTHRIE: It's in the intensive unit, yes.
GUTHRIE: A lot of broken parts.
POLKA DOT: fuck...
GUTHRIE: I...

 

The optimism in their voice wavers for a moment.

GUTHRIE: I can do my best.
GUTHRIE: There are some things too deep for my magic to reach.
GUTHRIE: But I promise- I will do everything I can to help.
GUTHRIE: ...okay?

 

You nod, too many emotions to process all at once.

The blanket plush stops, pausing to open a door-

-and gesture for you to go inside.



You're met with your party- well, almost all of it- snapping up to look at you.

All three of them are in ill-fitting hospital gowns.

Devo's- no, the- yellow tinted one. Scout- but he Guthrie said his name was Devo?- eyes widen, Tim crying out and eating shit the second he tries to run in for a hug.

SCOUT: Oh, shoot-!
CROSSBONE: T-Tim, waT-Ttch out-

 

It's clear your girlfriend is barely holding herself back from getting up, the wires hooked up to her back-

an image that reminds you far too much of your dream

-keeping her from doing the same as Tim.

You rush in and pull him into a tight hug, ignoring the fact that your body is screaming. Tim's clearly doing the same, having a hard time keeping tears back.

TIMOTHY: O-oh god, I thought-
POLKA DOT: I-I know man, I know-

 

You squeeze each other so tight that it's hard to think through the pain, eventually releasing the hug after what feels like an eternity.

Tim wipes his eyes.

TIMOTHY: G-go do Willow, next.

 

You don't have to be told twice, scrambling to your feet-

-only to approach her a lot more carefully, hyperaware of the wires.

POLKA DOT: You, uh-
CROSSBONE: I l-L-oOk like shit, huh?

 

Her voice warbles, distorting and glitching. She sighs at the distressed look on your face.

CROSSBONE: I-It'S tempo-tempo-r-rary.
CROSSBONE: I got a lot of gun-gunnnk in me.
CROSSBONE: They got it out b-BBBut I need time to dry-
CROSSBONE: S-sorry for how ba-ba-BBBbad it sounds....
POLKA DOT: No, no, just-

 

You give her a gentle squeeze, rubbing your face against her neck.

POLKA DOT: I just want you to be okay. I'm glad you're here.
CROSSBONE: M-me too...

 

You take the time to breathe in the scent of plastic, something you don't think you can live without at this point.

SCOUT: Do I get a hug?

 

You peek over, the yellow-tinted bear giving you a coy look.

SCOUT: I, Devo, your very very good friend-

 

You return a look back, telling him not to push his luck.

He's clearly holding back laughter, you rolling your eyes as you go over to give him a hug- making sure to pat his back for emphasis.

POLKA DOT: Well, Devo-
POLKA DOT: ....

 

Your voice turns serious, quiet.

POLKA DOT: I'm glad you're okay.

 

A whisper, now.

POLKA DOT: ...all of you.

 

Scout makes a soft, pleased noise.

SCOUT: I'm really glad you're okay too, Ribbon.
POLKA DOT: Is-

 

You don't pull away, not wanting Guthrie to hear.

POLKA DOT: Is he okay...?

 

Scout doesn't respond for a moment, his voice suddenly just as serious as yours.

SCOUT: I don't know.
SCOUT: We can talk about him when the doctor's gone.

 

You nod, letting go of the hug.

POLKA DOT: ....

 

You look at the ground, knowing you what you need to do next.

Guthrie smiles when you turn to them.

POLKA DOT: Can I see-
GUTHRIE: Mmmhm.

 

They gesture for you to follow them, heading for a curtain at the far end of the room.

There's a cheap looking window next to it, letting people look in from the outside without needing to go in. You can't help but peek-

You can barely see Roulette.

What you can see isn't at all encouraging.

Its head is turned to the side away from you, a single arm visible; the rest of it under a blanket in the hospital bed.

The side of its head almost looks like it has lacerations in it, though you guess it's a combination of the ice damage letting too much tar in, warping the metal.

Its arm is similarly cut up at spots, looking as if someone had gone after it with a saw-toothed blade.

Some parts of the metal look like it's been melted; stripping the camouflage paint and warping it, especially along the rusty portions of Roulette's arms, which seem to have sustained the most damage.

All in all: It looks terrible.

You let out a soft, strained noise.

GUTHRIE: ...I know.
GUTHRIE: It's-
GUTHRIE: I'm going to do all I can.
POLKA DOT: But what if-!
GUTHRIE: ....

 

They can't meet your eyes, at first.

GUTHRIE: I've handled cases like this before.
GUTHRIE: And I refuse to let someone die if I can do anything at all.

 

A glance, now.

GUTHRIE: ...can you trust me on that?

 

You look back at the rest of your party-

...alive.
Able to move.
Talking.
If they can be okay, if this magic works, then maybe Roulette-

POLKA DOT: ...yeah.
POLKA DOT: Let's see it.

 

Guthrie leads you inside.






Roulette doesn't move an inch as the door opens.

For a moment, you almost think it's asleep,
until you move to its bedside and see that its aperture is somewhat open.

Its fans are whisper-quiet, save for the occasional crunching sounds, which cause the bot to flinch slowly, straining.

It seems to be waiting for what it likely assumes is the doctor to speak.

GUTHRIE: ....hi, Roulette.

 

Their voice is soft and gentle.

GUTHRIE: Silk Ribbon's here to see you.

 

Its head tilts a few degrees, seemingly unable to move much more.

It doesn't speak.

POLKA DOT: ...can...it talk?
GUTHRIE: Not much.
GUTHRIE: But...I can give you two some space.

 

They pull over a rolling chair, setting it next to Roulette's bed.

You take a cautious seat by the bot, Guthrie quietly leaving.






You happen to look over at it, noticing it's looking at you now.

ROULETTE: ...all...O...K...?
POLKA DOT: ...yeah.
POLKA DOT: Everyone's alive.

 

It takes a while to process that.

ROULETTE: ...apolog

 

The bot's fan hitches, stopping entirely with a loud scraping sound.

ROULETTE: ...g...g...g...g...

 

It resumes.

ROULETTE: ...g...ie...s...

 

Even now-!

POLKA DOT: N...

 

You hold back your immediate frustration with the situation.

POLKA DOT: ...it's okay, Roulette.
POLKA DOT: Really.
ROULETTE: ...You all...could have...died...
ROULETTE: ...because of...
ROULETTE:  . . .

 

Its lens closes a little more as its head tilts back to the pillow again; the robot seeming to nearly pass out.

ROULETTE: ...plea...se...b-

 

Its voice cuts off entirely, coming out as quiet, garbled static for a few seconds.

ROULETTE: ...be...oka...y... Please.

 

You can feel tear-paint starting to well up.

POLKA DOT: ...I will.
POLKA DOT: I promise-
POLKA DOT: ....
POLKA DOT: ...but only if you promise too.
ROULETTE: ...can...not...
ROULETTE: ...Think
 

Its gaze drifts off slowly.

ROULETTE: Think
ROULETTE: ...might...not be...here...tomorrow.
ROULETTE: Can't...promise.

 

Its lens looks cloudy.
A few stray oil tears run down.

ROULETTE: ...my...fau-
ROULETTE: ...l...lt...lt-t...t...
ROULETTE: ...t...

ROULETTE: ...deserv...ed...
POLKA DOT: N-no, it's-
POLKA DOT: You don't. You don't deserve what happened.
POLKA DOT: You never did. And you won't.
POLKA DOT: Plea-
POLKA DOT: ...please.
ROULETTE:  . . .
ROULETTE: ...m...ean...t...

ROULETTE:  . . .

ROULETTE: ...Sor...ry.
ROULETTE: You... look... scared.
ROULETTE: S...or-R-R-R-R-Rr-ry.

 

Your throat hitches.

POLKA DOT: It's-
POLKA DOT: It's okay.
POLKA DOT: ....
POLKA DOT: Y...you want me to bring you anything, later?
ROULETTE: ...I don't...w-want...you t-
ROULETTE: T-t-to...watch...me, die.
POLKA DOT: I won't.
POLKA DOT: Because you're not gonna die.
ROULETTE: ...please...do not...worry.

 

You don't say much, looking down at your wings.

I...wish...
I knew how to help you.
What to say to make you feel okay again.




 

But it feels like too much to say.

 

Its lens nearly closes.

ROULETTE: ...t...ire...d...

ROULETTE: ...Pol...ka...

 

Roulette writhes in slow motion, as if trying to keep itself awake, or perhaps out of pain.

ROULETTE: ...hu...r...ts...s...s...

 

It goes still.
Your eye paint widens for a few seconds, until you realize it's sleeping.



You screw your eyes shut.

Counting to ten.




Holding back the tears from coming.



Not now.




okay.


You step out of the intensive care unit.



Everyone is staring at you- Guthrie no longer present.

POLKA DOT: Did they-?
CROSSBONE: They got the hint.
TIMOTHY: We...can speak freely now.
TIMOTHY: ....
TIMOTHY: Guthrie's genuinely, really nice, but-
SCOUT: I think we all feel it.

 

His voice is serious, like earlier.

SCOUT: Something's up with this place.
SCOUT: ...and we have ground to cover.