[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

CROSSBONE: L-look, just-
CROSSBONE: Everybody sh- Shut up for a sec!
????: Oh, sure. Of course.

 

They tilt their hood at Corsair.

????: See? 
????: You gotta shut up for a bit.
CROSSBONE: She-
CROSSBONE: You're the one who's-
????: Shouldn't have used everybody then!

 

You are beginning to wonder if this trip is a good idea- for an entirely new, unexpected reason.


This guy is annoying as fuck.

CROSSBONE: LOOK
CROSSBONE: I just- I just want to-
CROSSBONE: I JUST WANT TO BECOME A MONSTER, OKAY! 
????: ....
????: ........eh?
????: You a fuckin' pervert or something? 

 

Your chest sinks.

????: L-like, holy shit
????: You actually WANT this?!
????: Hey. Hey. Snake. Cowboy snake lady.
????: She for real?

 

She shrugs.

CORSAIR: Some people wanna look different.
CORSAIR: Don't really see the problem.
CORSAIR: Not sure why you're questionin' and judgin' her considerin' what you get up to. 
????: HEY

 

That immediately hits a nerve, the curse user writhing around and kicking their legs.

????: You got NO right to assume you
????: "GET"
????: ME
CORSAIR: Wasn't sayin' that I know everything about you.
CORSAIR: But I get that you curse people.
CORSAIR: Change people's lives, sometimes destroyin' 'em in the process.
CORSAIR: Now you got someone here, right in front of ya-

 

Her thumb claw points over to Cross.

CORSAIR: -sayin' she actually wants you to do that.
CORSAIR: No huntin' anyone down.
CORSAIR: No ruinin' their life.
CORSAIR: So, not sure what you're bent outta shape over.
CORSAIR: Shouldn't you wanna do it? Ain't that what your goal is?
CORSAIR: If not, then what the hell's the point?
CORSAIR: What's all this for?
CORSAIR: ...Just looks like a kid havin' a tantrum that's gone too far, from where I'm standin'.
????: .....
????: Tch. 
????: Alright. 
????: Aaaaalrighty!
????: Shows what y'all know. 
????: I'll indulge you.

 

An enormous flash of light sears through the clearing, blinding you, your ears ringing-




Your screen fizzles as you try to get your bearings- when did you fall over? When-



The curse user isn't in Corsair's glove any more.



They're in front of you.



Their head tilts.

????: Let's do a demonstration.

 

They move their sleeve in a flourish, a black and white paw visible as they hold some kind of...lightbulb.

????: We'll see if you get it more then.

 

They throw it at the ground, shattering it into the snow.


Black ooze seeps out from the shards, a sickening feeling growing in your chest.

????: See you never.


 

The entire world goes dark.







You feel the pulse.


It starts slow, faint colors cutting through the abyss. 




It gets louder, each throbbing beat making it more clear.

Neon, blacklight contours, as if the clearing was sketched in glowing ink. 

At first, Corsair is


baffled.
Extremely so.

Not having a clue how they'd gotten out.



Only to spot the light.



She rushes over,
getting between it and you.

CORSAIR: I've got it, get back.

 

Her scepter raises.



Neon wells up within it, as it vibrates violently in her claw.

She glances over at it, trying to puzzle this out.


ZAP!




A spark careens off her scepter, immediately striking her chest.


Her form freezes,
beginning to burn away; eroding into dark magenta.













The scepter spins in the air,
then falls into the grass.





The dark spot where Corsair had been fades.

Something moves within it, though.


Something tiny.







A figure within stands up, hardly coming up to your knee.

A very, very small plush, one without much detail.
A toy's toy;
an accessory,
a trinket.

A snake plush, sporting a minuscule poncho and hat.

CORSAIR:   .   .   .   






CORSAIR: ...Hell.


 

A laugh echos from the dark, first shocked, then hysterical.

????: WOW
????: Even better than I thought!
????: Holy shit!
????: H-holy shit. You're so small.
????: Haaaave fun!

 

Another loud pulse, and the chill...shifting.





They're gone. 






The leaf contours rustle, ink redrawn in real time as there's movement in the bushes.

CROSSBONE: C-
CROSSBONE: Corsair-
CORSAIR: I got it, I-

 

She moves towards her scepter on instinct,
but the neon lights are still pulsing from it.

CORSAIR:  .  .  .  

 

Her eyes next glance over to the black bulb, still in the ground; still painting the nearby landscape in neon.

CORSAIR: That light.
CORSAIR: Gotta be what's doin' this.
CORSAIR: ...Shouldn't touch the scepter while that thing's here.
CORSAIR: Gotta pull that thing out or break it. 
CORSAIR: ...That's my best gue-

 

The scepter glows brighter, sparks of neon splashing off from it,
'staining' the nearby grass as Corsair backs up.
The bulb, in turn, does the same.

A cacophony of buzzing fills the air, the plush making her way all the way back to Cross, now,
shielding her eyes as the lights get too bright.

CORSAIR: Cross-


 

A loud CRASH! rings out, as the black bulb bursts,
its broken shards fizzling away into nothing.




The impossible dark recedes, now replaced with a more natural one.
In less than an hour, it has become night.




The scepter sheds a few stray sparks,
then the sphere at its top goes completely dark; inactive, from the looks of it.

CORSAIR: . . .

 

She steps over to it, carefully touching a push claw against it.

CORSAIR: ...hot to th' touch.
CORSAIR: But I think it's safe to carry.

 

The snake tries to do so, but it's clearly too heavy for her.
She curses under her breath.

CORSAIR: ...Cross, would you mind?
CORSAIR: We need out of here. Sooner the-

 

You snatch up the trinket and her scepter before she can even react, fully intent on bailing the fuck out. 


The plush makes a noise somewhere between a question and a surprised yelp.

CORSAIR: ...CROSS!
CORSAIR: WOULD Y-
CORSAIR: DAMMIT, SLOW DOWN!
CROSSBONE: I WILL SLOW DOWN WHEN WE ARE OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!!!
CORSAIR: WE'RE NOT GONNA GET OUT OF HERE WITH YA SPRINTIN' THROUGH THE FOREST AT NIGHT LIKE YOU'RE ON FIRE!
CORSAIR: If there's anythin' else dangerous out here then all this noise is just gonna draw it to us!
CORSAIR: So SLOW DOWN before you hurt yourself!

 

You skid to a stop with a grating beep, keychain tail nearly tripping you up in the process.


Corsair is clinging tightly to your arm, still shaken from the roller coaster ride.

CORSAIR: ...alright.
CORSAIR: Alright, we just need to...
CORSAIR: ...God's sake, I don't even know where we are, anymore...

 

She places a rounded plush claw to her forehead, eyes closed.

CORSAIR: ...got no supplies to set up camp.
CORSAIR: We're... just gonna have to keep movin'. 
CORSAIR: Quietly this time; no panickin' like that again.
CORSAIR: We move slow but keep movin' in a persistent direction.
CORSAIR: ...Moon's not out tonight, so...
CORSAIR: ...just... gonna have to pick a direction.
CORSAIR: Look for buildings, or even better: Lights.
CORSAIR: When we see somethin', we investigate slowly, from a good vantage point.
CORSAIR: Make sure we know what we're walkin' into.
CORSAIR: ...You good, kid?

 

You're frozen in place, the only movement a small, buzzing vibration as you try to calm the hell down.

CROSSBONE: I-
CROSSBONE: Nn-
CROSSBONE: dont do well in pitch black like that

 

You are very aware that your internal beeping is audible to Corsair, a pulse you're desperately hoping slows.

CROSSBONE: Don't. Don't tell the others.
CROSSBONE: Night's fine. 
CROSSBONE: No issue with. Night time.
CROSSBONE: fuck

 

She's quiet for a moment;
looking away, claw rubbing the back of her neck.

CORSAIR: ...We're gonna get back, alright?
CORSAIR: Chances are the scepter lights up again soon enough.
CORSAIR: And then we'll be fine.

 

She subtly glances over, likely trying to see if that helped at all.

You let out a little fizzle, and then a nod. 

CROSSBONE: O-
CROSSBONE: okay
CORSAIR: ...Let's...
CORSAIR:  . . . 
CORSAIR: ...How 'bout we keep movin', and
CORSAIR: we can... talk, a little bit.
CORSAIR: That... sound good?

 

You start to snap out of it.

CROSSBONE: Y
CROSSBONE: Ye-yeah.
CROSSBONE: Um
CROSSBONE: I just..walk and we talk?
CROSSBONE: Anywhere?
CROSSBONE: i can't really see where we're going
CORSAIR: Just go slow, vision should adjust as you go.
CORSAIR: And keep your voice low, quiet.
CORSAIR: ...If I tap your arm, stop and don't talk til I say to keep movin'.
CORSAIR: Easy enough?

 

You nod-


-taking your first few steps.

CORSAIR:  . . . 

CORSAIR:  . . ..

CORSAIR:  . . .

 

After far too long, she finally seems to realize you aren't speaking first.

CORSAIR:  . . . 

CORSAIR:  . . . 

CORSAIR: ...Hobbies?
CORSAIR: D'you-
CORSAIR: Have ya got any, I mean?

 

She isn't very good at this.

CROSSBONE: oh
CROSSBONE: oh, Um
CROSSBONE: I do...fashion design.
CROSSBONE: and modeling
CORSAIR: ...tell me about that. 
CROSSBONE: W-well-
CROSSBONE: Where I come from, Playscape...
CROSSBONE: It's...tricky.
CROSSBONE: People like, me, and I guess- all of our party-
CROSSBONE: ...aren't liked very much.
CROSSBONE: Just...in a different way than here.
CROSSBONE: ...I get to be a part of a movement against that, I guess.

 

You laugh, just a little. 

She rubs her forehead, clearly not getting it.

CORSAIR: ...with... modeling?
CROSSBONE: Oh-
CROSSBONE: It's-
CROSSBONE: Uh...
CROSSBONE: Okay, so- it's a city.
CROSSBONE: Right? 
CORSAIR: Followin' so far.
CROSSBONE: And it's a really big city.
CROSSBONE: And...there's not enough to go around.
CROSSBONE: Or...
CROSSBONE: There would be.
CROSSBONE: J-just-

 

You feel your voice getting angrier.

CROSSBONE: It's all owned by just-
CROSSBONE: All these rich fucks
CORSAIR: How most cities work, yeah.
CROSSBONE: Yeah.
CROSSBONE: But-
CROSSBONE: It's like- free for all.
CROSSBONE: As long as you're in the right place, you can get killed no issue.
CROSSBONE: And people take the parts.
CROSSBONE: ...I'm part of a group that takes in like- low-income toys.
CROSSBONE: Newbies, especially.
CROSSBONE: And gives them a place.
CORSAIR: ...Live there yourself?
CROSSBONE: We all do.
CORSAIR:  . . . 
CORSAIR: And the... fashion? Design n' modelin', all that?
CROSSBONE: Oh, um-
CROSSBONE: I help make garments for people.
CROSSBONE: And...um
CROSSBONE: um
CROSSBONE: hm
CROSSBONE: one of
CROSSBONE: um.
 

You did not realize you'd be explaining kink fashion to a cowboy today.

CORSAIR: ...got... entertainment there, I'm guessin'?
CORSAIR: That kinda thing?
CROSSBONE: Yes! 
CROSSBONE: Yep!
CROSSBONE: s-
CROSSBONE: SELF EXPRESSION
CROSSBONE: and all that

 

She chuckles.

CORSAIR: Uh-huh.
CORSAIR: Sounds like it.
CORSAIR: Well, I'm glad it's somethin' you're proud of.

 

You let out a relieved beep.

CROSSBONE: ...thanks.
CROSSBONE: I really am.
CROSSBONE: It's-


 

Something's bright in the distance-

The silhouette of a building just barely visible.

CROSSBONE: C-Corsair!
CROSSBONE: Look!!

 

She pulls herself up higher on your arm.

There's palpable relief on her face,
though she's trying to tone it down a little.

CORSAIR: ...Probably good news.
CORSAIR: Head in that direction, just stay real quiet.
CORSAIR: If it looks safe, we head in, and we've got shelter.

 

Your footfalls are quiet as you creep closer to the light, one step, and then another, and then anoth-


Your foot steps on something hard.




Ceramic.




You freeze.

CROSSBONE: c
CROSSBONE: c-cor-
CROSSBONE: please don't tell me that's
CORSAIR: Step back-
CORSAIR: ...It's a corpse.
CORSAIR: Someone who got cursed, looks li-
CORSAIR: -Doesn't matter right now, just means it's not safe.
CORSAIR: Head back, hurry-

 

Before you can even think about-

????: Back up.

 

There is




a gun.



Pointed at your head. 




i
oh god
ohgodohgodohgod






You had taken out the duster so easily.

Small monsters, no big deal. 
It's different.


Way different.


The ragmirror nearly killed you- it's a fucking miracle it didn't.
But that was, yknow, a new experience.
You'll never sleep easy again after that, your biggest fears realized, but you had no idea what you were even getting into there.










You absolutely, 100%, know in perfect, personal detail, how bad guns are when they're pointed at your fucking face.


You glance down at the plush you're holding.

She seems to be doing her best to stay entirely limp, trying to look like an average trinket.
Though, from your vantage point her eyes are open wide; thinking,
and trying to sneak a look at the person holding the gun.





You are now also looking at a porcelain doll corpse with its face shattered into a billion pieces.

Likely from being shot.




With the gun.

CROSSBONE: I- i
????: I said move.
CORSAIR: ...Vortex, hang on.

 

She's speaking, but still hasn't moved,
her voice seeming slightly muffled, or perhaps seeming to come from you.

CORSAIR: Need you to stay calm... and lower the gun, or at least take a step back.
CORSAIR: Not here to hurt you.

 

The gun immediately lowers, the toy in front of you looming with a distinctly monster-esque posture.

VORTEX: ...this some kind of joke?
VORTEX: ....

 

The barrel rises.

VORTEX: Not the first time I've heard a mimic. 
VORTEX: Gun goes down when you can prove you're not one.
CORSAIR: . . . 
CORSAIR: Vortex, this is... Willow, one of the new people who arrived in the village recently-
CORSAIR: Not the one speakin' right now, just-
CORSAIR: Need you to... not panic and shoot me.
CORSAIR: I haven't moved yet, but... I'm the... plush trinket that she's holdin' right now.
CORSAIR: I'm gonna sit up, and I need you to... not shoot me - or her - in the face.
CORSAIR: ...I wouldn't have played 'dead,' but seein' as you held a gun to us-
CORSAIR: I figured you'd blow my head off like ya must've with our friend here.
CORSAIR: So... can I sit up first, and we can keep talkin'?

 

It hesitates.


The gun falls again.

VORTEX: Not here. 
VORTEX: Let me look through the body, I need to figure out who they were.

 

The toy gestures for you to back up- thankfully with a hand this time, rubbery and warty- and this time you do so immediately.

CROSSBONE: U-um
CROSSBONE: um
CROSSBONE: th
CROSSBONE: Thank you f-

 

It raises a hand to shush you, the rest of its body coming into view- the entire length of it- as it picks through the corpse.

Despite it all, you can't help but look.










You'd seen it a million times.






wrenches, knives, drills, screwdrivers, scissors, seam rippers, needles, hammers, crowbars



All in service of prying open toys to get at their guts. 





Vortex is more careful, looking more like some of the jewelry specialists you work alongside. Meticulous, precise.

An expert.

CORSAIR:  . . . 
CORSAIR: ...So I can or can't sit up?
CORSAIR: Cause I'm gonna be honest, it's gettin' awkward starin' at Willow's hand.
CORSAIR: And you already know I'm talkin' right now, so...
VORTEX: Sure.
CORSAIR: Oh thank god.

 

The tiny cowboy sits up, stretching her back,
rolling one arm.

CORSAIR: ...you recognize me from the bar?
CORSAIR: When we arm wrestled?
CORSAIR: ...Well... 'recognize' in a pretty loose sense, at this point.
VORTEX: Yeah.

 

It finds a pocketwatch and grimaces.

VORTEX: Like I said.
VORTEX: Don't talk out here.

 

Its fingers pinch the chain of the watch, the surface indiscernible in the dark.

VORTEX: ....I'll show you the cabin.
CORSAIR: ...fair enough.
CORSAIR: Gonna need an apology, though.
CORSAIR: For my friend here, especially.

 

Its head rolls back, giving the trinket a tired expression as it gestures for her to both zip her lips and follow.


She shrugs,
waiting as you follow along.


The monster-like toy gets moving.
You try not to wince as you have to hop over the dead fucking body on the ground as you follow, and fail miserably. 




its fine its fine its fine its fine




And with as many repeats as you can muster and keeping your mind as dissociated as possible from whatever the hell is around you after that, you realize you're in front of a cabin made of wooden, interlocking logs.

Vortex unlocks...multiple padlocks, and gestures.

VORTEX: Inside.





 

It's not as big as the hunter's lodge by any stretch, but it's not small either- though it's immediately apparent why. What's large for you is small for Vortex, the rubbery toy having to mind scooting around furniture with its long body.

VORTEX: ...

 

It finally gets a look at Corsair.

VORTEX: ...........
VORTEX: You know, I had you pegged as being smarter than this.
VORTEX: Guess arm wrestling doesn't translate easy.
VORTEX: How'd you get turned into that.

 

She grunts, rubbing her face as she glances away.
The trinket looks embarrassed, or maybe just guilty.

CORSAIR: Listen buddy, you just held a gun to my face.

 

It was your own face, actually.

CORSAIR: So I'd appreciate dialin' back on the insults til I'm properly sized, alright?
CORSAIR: Now, you gonna apologize for nearly shootin' a hole through us?
VORTEX: Nope.

 

It settles on a long cushion you can only assume is a couch.


It closes its eyes for a moment before thinking over its words- delivered deadpan and exact in wording.

VORTEX: Ragmirrors aren't the only thing that can copy voices.
VORTEX: Faces, bodies, anything.
VORTEX: Glad it turned out that wasn't the case.
VORTEX: Would have been awful if I did shoot you.
VORTEX: Wouldn't feel good about it.
VORTEX: Not apologizing for following procedure.
VORTEX: If it was a mimic that got loose, you'd wish it'd been a gun threat instead.
CORSAIR: Oh, just shoot me already, ya crotchety thing.

 

She sighs.

CORSAIR: ...Look, I get it.
CORSAIR: Forest's got a lotta monsters, would've been bad, you were bein' prepared; 
CORSAIR: I get it, spare the speech.
CORSAIR: You want an explanation?
CORSAIR: ...We ran into the curse user.

 

The plush seems to realize how that sounds.

CORSAIR: But don't go jumpin' to conclusions, I'm not about to come for your neck,
CORSAIR: or whatever the hell happened with your friend outside.
CORSAIR: ...I'm assumin' that's what happened there?

 

A slight raise of its eyelids, lounging onto its hand.

VORTEX: What'd they look like?
VORTEX: They say anything?

 

You finally speak up.

CROSSBONE: They-
CROSSBONE: They taunted us.
CROSSBONE: A lot!
CROSSBONE: Very, just-
CROSSBONE: Rude, s-sadistic even!
CROSSBONE: But in a stupid way!

 

The plush finally moves from your arm, plopping down nearby.

CORSAIR: ...I think 'stupid's the important word there.
CORSAIR: Young. Practically just a kid. Got some agenda even they probably don't fully understand.
CORSAIR: Mostly under a cloak. But I saw what looked like plush paws, and a feline tail.
CORSAIR:  . . . 
CORSAIR: ...I was handlin' em fine.

 

She rubs her neck.

CORSAIR: Probably too easily.
CORSAIR: Got overconfident. Wasn't thinkin' as much.
CORSAIR: I knew, more or less, how their curses probably worked.
CORSAIR: Knew that wasn't gonna work on me, so... not really a big threat.
CORSAIR: ...They had somethin' else.
CORSAIR: This bulb with a black light, that they used.
CORSAIR: Not somethin' I'd seen before.
CORSAIR: It lit up the area, and - my guess is - anythin' in the area of the light that's magic, gets... corrupted.
CORSAIR: Any other magic turns cursed.

 

The trinket nods her head towards her scepter you're holding - its sphere still dimmed to nothing.

CORSAIR: Converted my scepter to curse magic.
CORSAIR: I touched it, did this to me.
CORSAIR: ...Bulb's gone, by the way.
CORSAIR: The magic in my scepter eventually...

 

She glances away,
as if trying to decide the best way to say this.

CORSAIR: ...burnt the bulb out.
CORSAIR: It burst, but my scepter got exhausted of the magic charge it had.
CORSAIR: So it - and me - are gonna be outta commission for a while.
CORSAIR: We didn't pick up what was left of the bulb, but it might be worth findin' it, if ya can; was in a clearing.
CORSAIR: ...Anyway, think I scared the curse user, cause they took off right after they saw my scepter do this to me.
CORSAIR: Probably could've stuck around, not like I could've done much like this.
CORSAIR: But I'm guessin' I'd scared 'em enough that they didn't wanna press their luck with me.

 

She shrugs.

CORSAIR: That's pretty much everything.

 

Vortex closes its eyes.

Taking a deep, heavy breath, their next words nearly unintelligible.

VORTEX: They're getting braver.

 

You jump as it rises back up from its seat, shoving aside a curtain and revealing a wall-high corkboard, covered in scribblings you can't make out, drawings and photos with paper on top to obscure them from a glance.


It stares at all of it.



You stop feeling scared, despite it all, as a deep look of grief enters its eyes.

VORTEX: ....
VORTEX: A question.
VORTEX: I know you came here seeking their power. 
VORTEX: Depending on your answer, you either leave this place or I'll help you.

 

It doesn't look at you, unmoved from its scrawlings.

VORTEX: If the world ended for you and only you, with everyone else still "normal"-
VORTEX: -not death, but a complete apocalypse, but localized to yourself-
VORTEX: What would you do?