[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

POLKA DOT: ...well, uh-
POLKA DOT: Thanks for the heads up, but...
POLKA DOT: Your, uh, boss-
COMMS: Mange isn't my boss.
TIMOTHY: ...isn't he the leader here?
COMMS: Yeah.
SCOUT: And you work under him?
COMMS: Mm.
TIMOTHY: S...so...?
COMMS: Not my boss.
POLKA DOT: ...got it.
POLKA DOT: Mange, though- he's...being kind of-
COMMS: Let me guess.

 

Comms stares blankly at the wall, sighing.

COMMS: He's asking you the exact opposite.
POLKA DOT: Yyyeah.
COMMS: ....he does that.
COMMS: He's probably got it out for you a bit. You're out of towners.
COMMS: Could be good to do what he says if you want to earn his trust.

 

He sighs again at the look of panic on your party's faces.

COMMS: Relax.
COMMS: He isn't gonna hurt you or anything.
COMMS: Just not afraid to give somebody the cold shoulder if they scorn him.
COMMS: Good person to have on your side.
COMMS: So...either work with him-
COMMS: Or leave now.
COMMS: Those are your options if you know what's good for you.

 

It's clear that this doesn't assure any of you, your party exchanging glances and sweating. Comms looks you all over, his eyes trailing from one person to the next.

COMMS: ...you lot look like shit.
COMMS: Have you eaten yet?
CROSSBONE: No, not yet...
SCOUT: We haven't left the room, except Silk Ribbon.
POLKA DOT: I mean, I still haven't-
POLKA DOT: Unless you count whatever the hell Mange shoved down my throat.

 

You make an awful face, remembering the taste.

COMMS: Ah, yeah.
COMMS: That's Gutsy's cider recipe.
COMMS: Could wake up a corpse.
POLKA DOT: ...that was cider?

 

Comms shrugs.

COMMS: We also use it for sink cleaner.

 

You stare at the walkie talkie, dumbfounded.

COMMS: Gets the grime right off.

 

You look at your party, everyone equally disturbed.

COMMS: It can cook better than it can brew, at least.
COMMS: I'll take you right to it, and we can bring stuff back for your bunch.
COMMS: The lodge is a bit of a maze, might get lost otherwise.
POLKA DOT: ...

 

While you're apprehensive...everyone does look pretty hungry.

POLKA DOT: ...alright, yeah.
TIMOTHY: I'll-!

 

Tim hops out of bed, shaky on his feet.

TIMOTHY: I'll come with!
COMMS: Not looking like that, you won't.
COMMS: Put some damn clothes on first.
COMMS: People will kick you out if your ass is showing.
TIMOTHY: R...right.

 

It takes Tim a little bit to locate his clothes and get dressed, Comms turning away while he does. It's...

You're not sure how to feel about it. Anxious, maybe-

-the fact that this is so different from Laurie's sits weirdly with you.

TIMOTHY: A-alright!

 

He's got his snowpants on, along with his trademark striped sweater you've seen him wear a million times, kept covered up by his jacket this whole time.

POLKA DOT: Looking good, man.
TIMOTHY: Thanks...

 

And with that, you're off.




The lodge is still unfamiliar to you, and despite the warmth inside, it's just as unnerving as the thoughts you had earlier.

You go to whisper to Tim about it-

-only to see him already ducking down a different hallway without a word.


S-shit-!
I don't know what he's-

COMMS: ...your friend thinks he's pretty slick, huh?
POLKA DOT: !
POLKA DOT: I-I dunno-

 

The walkie talkie chuckles.

COMMS: Let him be curious.
COMMS: It'll be fine. If he runs into trouble, he'll learn quick.
POLKA DOT: I thought you said-
COMMS: Don't worry about it.
COMMS: In a place like this, people say that getting lost just means an adventure.

 

He glances away.

COMMS: ...something like that.
















 

Tim doesn't slow down his steps until he knows he's out of earshot- or at least, assumes so.


Thank god for soft plush feet...


He startles as soon as he gets a better look at the walls of the hallway he's in- covered in more hunting trophies, all of things he'd prefer to only see in a nightmare.


Nnngh...
...
At....least Scout will enjoy seeing these, later, probably...

...time to get a look around


He speeds right back up, trying to get away from the beasts' glass eyes and taxidermied grins.

The doors he passes seem nondescript- other rooms, perhaps? It's growing strikingly similar to Laurie's the more he sees, something he puzzles over as he turns corner after corner. When he passes by people, they don't look up from what they're doing, too locked into conversation to notice a bean plush sneaking around at whatever the hell time it is. It was dark outside the windows when he woke up, it was dark now, and that's all he had to go off of...

But...


They're just...talking. Laughing.
They're not screaming hate or anything-
How...
....am I supposed to know who's safe?


As if answering his thoughts, someone raises their voice in an open room, the dog panicking and opening the closest door, jumping through it and slamming it behind him.


He stumbles-


-falling into snow.

TIMOTHY: S-shit-
TIMOTHY: A back door...?
 

He finally gets a view at the sky, though it's barely visible through the treeline. Pitch black, with glittery stars- the same as what he saw before going unconscious.

...he doesn't like thinking about that again.


Best to keep moving...


With a grunt of pain, he gets up, trying not to think about his still-healing injuries.


Guthrie...probably won't kill me. Probably. Seemed too nice...


Using the light of the lodge's windows, he's able to get a look around.


He's struck by sound - music, and commotion - that doesn't seem to be coming from where he just exited.

It takes him a moment to realize it's coming from above him.
What looks to be the lodge's third floor, comparatively tiny. All the noise is coming from the windows up there.

By happenstance, he spots the edge of a stairway around the other side of the lodge.


...well....
Maybe...it'll be fine.
Only one real way to go...


With trepidation sinking in, he goes for the stairs.

He feels the soreness in his legs, his back, his everything as he makes his way up.
By the time it feels like a mistake, it's faster to just finish making it up the rest of the way instead of going back down.

Grumbling to himself, he manages it- having to keep from doubling over and heaving as he finally reaches the top.

The commotion is louder now, but not deafeningly so.
A single step inside shows him what all the fuss is about.

It's a bar, that much is immediately clear- but far rowdier than Laurie's, by a long shot. He's about to take a look around before the sound of someone cheering catches his attention-

-only for his entire face to go pale.

At a large table, a toy with scratches and scuffs all over any visible plastic they had extends an arm, a smug grin on their face.

At the other end is a massive toy- semi-translucent purple rubber, covered in warts and greebles, and more long than it was tall- a proper centaur, crossed with a serpent-like dragon. Its mouth stayed in a completely neutral, jagged expression, eyes bulging and tired looking.

It rests a spindly, fragile looking arm on the table, hand raised.

CROWD: Ohh, you're gonna get it!
CROWD: You can't do it man, you've never won!
CROWD: Let him try, let him try!

 

The rubber beast rolls its eyes, the bulging features too prominent to have any subtlety whatsoever.

????: You don't need to hype him up.
????: It's unnecessary.
CROWD: You hear that?!
CROWD: Vortex is talking shit!
VORTEX: ....

 

It focuses its attention on the toy across the table.

VORTEX: Go on.

 

The plastic toy grabs onto Vortex's hand in a death grip-



-only to have his arm slammed down in a motion so quick you barely register it happening.

The crowd cheers, Vortex's opponent pulling away with a pained hiss.

VORTEX: ...I didn't hit you that hard.



 

The bar is pretty dimly lit, a lot of candles mixed in with the dim yellow light bulbs, but a cheap-looking plastic chandelier hanging above the tables lights them up plenty.
Shadows cast long and wide across the room, only making the dragon loom further.

VORTEX: Maybe if you train harder, you'll win.

 

Vortex watches as the toy grumbles, walking away and trying to ignore the jeers and ribbing of the crowd.



It simply looks forward, expecting more.



All the regulars shy away from the other seat, bickering and teasing one another to sit down, despite knowing it's pointless

In contrast to the dragon, another figure practically swims through the long shadows, completely hiding within them to the point that Tim doesn't notice them

until they've sat down in the chair across from the champion.



A wooden snake toy in a poncho and hat, with what looks to be an odd, decorative scepter strapped along their back.
They look over at the dragon with an inscrutable expression, saying nothing.

VORTEX: ....
VORTEX: You're not from around here.

 

They don't respond,
pulling the scepter from their back.
Tim notes the ball at the end of it has a very nice look to it, likely having an internal light to put colored patterns across it-


And Tim suddenly finds the handle thrust into his paws.

????: Hold this for me?

 

Spoken not all that much like a question.
They don't look over at him, still watching the dragon.

TIMOTHY: I-!

 

He grips the scepter without hesitation.

????: Thanks.

 

It feels


beyond strange in his paws, making his fabric stand on end here and there.
The dog is transfixed by scepter's colored ball.

He snaps back to reality what feels like ten minutes later; likely only a few seconds.

????: Any more gloating before we start?

 

They tip their hat up, smiling at the dragon.

????: Better now than never.
VORTEX: ....
VORTEX: No.
VORTEX: I don't think that will be necessary.

 

It places its arm down on the table.

The snake's movements are slow, deliberate.
Elbow on the table.
Claw against the dragon's.

????: You count down.
????: Call it a home field advantage.

 

It narrows its eyes.

VORTEX: Three.
VORTEX: Two.
VORTEX: One-

 

The dragon shoves its claws against theirs as hard as it can, straining.



Only for the snake's claw to go nowhere.
Dead-steady.

????:  . . .
????: We startin' on go?

 

It says nothing, baring its teeth just slightly.

????: ...Oh, you started.
????: Good to know.

 

The dragon finds its palm lowering
slowly
slowly
towards the table.

Struggling with all its might, its entire arm shaking.
The snake's limb moves as smoothly as ever, as if it were lowering against air.

????: Little bit harder.
????: Your hand still there?
 

The crowd is howling at this point, Tim just barely able to make out the wrestlers' conversation.

Again, Vortex says nothing, visibly struggling to keep its cool.

The snake looks

distracted, all of a sudden.
Their progress stops, as if they were holding the dragon's claw where it was.

????: ...Hey.
????:  . . .

 

They glance at the crowd.

????: Hey.
 

Tim feels thunder boom against his chest.
The crowd shuts up.

????: ...'Ppreciate it.
 

Refocused,
they return to their efforts,
the dragon's claw hovering just above the table.

????: Last words?
 

Nothing-

-but then-



-an appreciative smile.


Its hand touches the table.

The match over.

The stranger nods,
stands,
and reaches their other hand across the table for a handshake.

Vortex takes it, giving them a healthy shake.

VORTEX: Make yourself at home.

 

They smile back as they return the shake.

When they finish, they glance at the crowd.

????: Y'all never seen arm wrestlin' before?
????: Nothin' to see here.

 

The stranger parts the crowd, moving past them to reach a barstool - one they'd likely gotten up from before the contest.

They sit back down as if nothing had happened...



...apparently forgetting the scepter still in Tim's paws.



The crowd resumes talking, soon ending up noisy once again.

Tim looks between the scepter- trying not to get distracted by the ball on top once again- and the rest of the bar, dumbfounded.

Vortex remains at its seat, looking significantly more comfortable without the crowd jeering at it and its opponents. Even so, it simply stares distantly, lost in thought.

The stranger is still sitting at the bar, now with drink in hand, idly chatting with the bartender.

The crowd disperses a little, seemingly no other challengers looking for a try.
The bar feels a lot more open now, the dog noticing the pretty, but worn green carpeting, as well as a separate room with darts and pool.

Though, the crystal scepter within his paws feels pressing.

...regardless of what he plans to do with it.

 

The mess hall is full of empty tables, chairs strewn around haphazardly. A large chandelier made of wood and...antlers? hangs above the space, along with the usual trophies you've come to expect.

There's a black-furred plush cat cleaning a table, wearing a big bow collar and a warm-looking dress. Comms makes a crackle of acknowledgment, the cat startling and assuming a salute- only to startle even more when she sees you.

????: S-sir!
COMMS: Evening, Vann.
VANN: Sh-
VANN: She's alive!
????: Wait-!!!

 

Another voice comes from behind a window not unlike the one you've worked with back at Laurie's, a toy scrambling out of what you assume is a kitchen area.


You nearly yelp as you see it-

A translucent plastic toy with wide, manic-looking eyes-



-full of sparkly pink intestines, looking far too soft to be plastic themselves.


I-is that?!

COMMS: Gutsy, chill.
GUTSY: Holy cow!
GUTSY: You didn't bite it!
POLKA DOT: I-I uh well

 

Before you can object, both toys are rushing over to peer at you up close, Comms looking properly annoyed.

GUTSY: Whoa...
GUTSY: A couple bad scratches, but nothing Guthrie can't fix!
VANN: You're incredibly lucky...
VANN: Ragmirrors have taken out so many hunters here...
GUTSY: Yeah, but-
GUTSY: The swordsman saved them!
COMMS: Knock it off.
GUTSY: Cmon, Comms!

 

The gore-filled toy pulls back, hand on its chin. You realize now that it's wearing a stained apron and nothing else, glimpses of the rest of its body revealing that yes, it is absolutely stuffed with intestines.

GUTSY: I can't help it....
GUTSY: It's so fantastic...
GUTSY: So romantic-
COMMS: There's nothing fantastical 'bout somebody who thinks they're too good to play by the rules.
COMMS: And if you knew what's good for you, you'd stop getting crushes on sword-hauling freaks.
GUTSY: Freaks are the best kind, though...

 

It pouts, its little drawn-on mouth looking extremely put out.

GUTSY: You just don't get it.
COMMS: You're right, I don't.

 

Despite this guy's scary look...

...it feels like it'd fit right in at Laurie's.

VANN: W-well-

 

The plush interrupts that train of thought, wringing her paws.

VANN: I'm...really glad you're alive....

 

Her voice is soft, gentle- reminding you a bit of Cross when you first met, actually.

GUTSY: Same here!
GUTSY: Whatever y'all want- it's on the house!
COMMS: ...you're gonna give a party of five free shit?
GUTSY: Uh huh! Adventurer's discount!
COMMS: Gutsy, you're already on thin ice.
GUTSY: Take it out of my paycheck!
GUTSY: Tonight, they eat free! Whatever they want!