[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

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.

CROSSBONE: You good to go, Corsair?

 

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

CORSAIR: Good as I'll ever be.
CROSSBONE: Good.
CROSSBONE: ....

 

You look over your shoulder at the intensive care unit.

CROSSBONE: ...I just have one more thing to do myself.
CORSAIR: Take your time.

 

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.

CROSSBONE: Why's it doing that?
CORSAIR: ...hm?
CORSAIR:  . . . 
CORSAIR: Scepter's just drawn to certain things, certain people.
CORSAIR: Part of how the magic works. Nothin' to worry about.

 

You feel a slight sense of unease.

CROSSBONE: ...if...you say so-

 

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

GUTHRIE: Hello hello, good morning!

 

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

GUTHRIE: Thought I heard folks up and about!
CROSSBONE: ...Is-
GUTHRIE: We're stable!
GUTHRIE: It was a rough time of it, but it should be out of the woods.

 

Scout immediately perks up.

SCOUT: It's going to be okay?!
POLKA DOT: Thank god..
GUTHRIE: Mhm, but it's still in bad shape.
GUTHRIE: I should be able to get it up and running better soon, but it will still take time and rest.
GUTHRIE: Likely a week, by my estimate. Full bedrest.
GUTHRIE: I don't get a lot of electronic toys, but...
GUTHRIE: ...that's the best I can give you.
GUTHRIE: So, for now- one visitor at a time, keep it low key. 
TIMOTHY: Should be doable...
TIMOTHY: ...and it'll be fine while we're out?
GUTHRIE: Oh, yes.
GUTHRIE: I'll be checking in regularly.
SCOUT: Well...I want to check in, but-

 

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

SCOUT: ...gonna need a sec.
SCOUT: Anyone else want to go first?
CROSSBONE: ....

 

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.

CROSSBONE: I'll go.

 

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-

CROSSBONE: stay safe please





 

And you are immediately out of there.


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

CORSAIR: Get what ya came for?
CROSSBONE: ...mm.
CROSSBONE: Let's go.


 

You are desperate to get this shit out of your head, and thankfully, leaving the room for the first time as a conscious individual gives you plenty of new things to worry about.

CROSSBONE: What on-

 

The lodge halls may be empty of people, but the trophy heads on the walls certainly do a good job of staring.

CROSSBONE: ....
CROSSBONE: Th-
CROSSBONE: Those are monsters, right?
CORSAIR: ...Not worth thinkin' about too hard.

 

Corsair takes the lead, quickly exiting the lodge.




The cowboy keeps a leisurely pace, enjoying the morning air as she makes her way gradually towards the town gate.


You, on the other hand-


Your coat's still fine, Fine, it's fine, it's here and it's warm, but you swear on your life that the light scratches in the material have dropped the temperature down. Surely.


You do not fucking like the cold.

CROSSBONE: S-so, um!
CROSSBONE: You know the area?
CORSAIR: More or less.
CORSAIR: Been here a lil while.
CORSAIR: ...Y'sure you don't need an extra layer?

 

She glances back to you, noting your scratched-up coat.

CROSSBONE:  I!
CROSSBONE: It's not like I can buy something new-
CORSAIR: Y'all didn't bring any supply funds for when ya got here?
CROSSBONE: I mean, sure, but-
CROSSBONE: ...no idea if the money's even good here.


 

Embarrassment sets in.


She shrugs.

CORSAIR: Worth a shot if that coat's not cuttin' it.

 

The cowboy turns her head forward once more.

CORSAIR: ...But I get the feelin' you wanna keep movin' on.
CORSAIR: All the same to me.
CORSAIR: Just may wanna think about stockin' up later. Gets cold at night, here.





 

You can feel your circuits fizzling.








You have no idea how to talk to strangers on a good day.




But conversation is important, right?








This is not going to be easy.