[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

POLKA DOT: Hmm....
POLKA DOT: Well, first things first, you have got to apologize to Tim.
FATALE: Hmph.
FATALE: I know, but-
POLKA DOT: He was trying to check in on Devo when you got touched, like-
POLKA DOT: It was some kind of safety check thing.
POLKA DOT: Not...whatever you thought it was.
FATALE: ...
 

She doesn't make eye contact.

POLKA DOT: You don't have to like, address everything going on between you two, but-
POLKA DOT: He couldn't have known it was you.
POLKA DOT: ...
POLKA DOT: I'm sure if he hears about your boundary, he'll respect it.
FATALE: Tch...
FATALE: Men like him-
POLKA DOT: I know Tim well enough.
POLKA DOT: You asked my advice, and just-
POLKA DOT: If you want to apologize, you have got to acknowledge that it is at least a little bit fucked to accuse someone of that kind of thing when they don't even know what the full situation is.
POLKA DOT: Okay?
POLKA DOT: I'm not trying to be mean.
POLKA DOT: And I'm not trying to like, police whatever your beef is with him.
POLKA DOT: But if you want to make it right with Tim, you're going to have to be upfront about the...multiple bears thing, and you're going to have to admit it was kind of shitty of you to yell at him like that.
FATALE: Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
 

She tips her head back and continues to groan before sighing and flopping forward.

FATALE: Fine.
FATALE: But I am not going to be friends with him.
FATALE: And if he touches me again, I'm not holding back.
POLKA DOT: Sure, fine, just-
 

Jeez, she's bad at taking advice she asked for herself...

POLKA DOT: Try to be chill about it, okay?
FATALE: I'll...try.
FATALE: What about the rest?
POLKA DOT: Well...I think everyone else is going to be okay with this, even if it's confusing at first.
POLKA DOT: Simple way to do it is some kinda team huddle.
 

She pales.

FATALE: A group conversation?
FATALE: I don't know how to feel about that.
POLKA DOT: It's that or talking to everybody one at a time.
 

Her face scrunches up, displeased.

FATALE: This is a terrible choice.
POLKA DOT: Group meeting gets it one and done.
FATALE: ...fine, I suppose it's an "off like a bandage" situation-
FATALE: ...not that those come off easy when you're fabric, anyhow.
POLKA DOT: I'll make sure nobody starts shit. Roulette already knows some of this stuff, and...Cross will adjust quickly.
POLKA DOT: We could sit down, you introduce yourself, then everybody asks questions just like I did.
FATALE: Fantastic, an interrogation...
POLKA DOT: Nobody's going to treat you like a criminal.
POLKA DOT: I didn't, and I wouldn't let anyone else either.
FATALE: Mm...
POLKA DOT: ...I've got some other stuff I can bring up too, while I'm at it, but... yeah.
FATALE: ...and what about apologizing to Roulette?
POLKA DOT: ...uh....
POLKA DOT: With the Roulette thing, just...make it clear it wasn't all its fault for things going crazy earlier.
POLKA DOT: That...will probably help, and I'll back you up.
FATALE: Okay...
FATALE: ....
FATALE: It's...worth a shot.
POLKA DOT: Alright, well...
POLKA DOT: I'm gonna go check on Tim and see if he's up for the meeting.
POLKA DOT: I'll be back in a minute or two, okay?
FATALE: ...mm.

She nods, going back to fiddling with the snow.

FATALE: ...don't take long.


You get up slowly, cracking your back before crunching your boots through the snow, back towards the tent.

Tim and Cross are sitting by the fire inside, Cross with her hand on Tim's knee. By the look of it, the two of them have been talking as well.

Tim's ears perk up when you enter, and Cross lets out a startled beep.

CROSSBONE: Ribbon!
CROSSBONE: What on earth happened? Tim said there was a scuffle with some kind of animal-
POLKA DOT: It's...a whole thing. I can catch you up in a sec, but...
 

You turn to Tim, taking a look at your friend's face. His tears had dried up since talking with you, likely helped by Cross' support as well.

POLKA DOT: ...hey, man.
POLKA DOT: You doing any better?
TIMOTHY: A little...
TIMOTHY: ....
TIMOTHY: Is....Devo okay?
POLKA DOT: He's, uh...
 

Well...

POLKA DOT: He...wants to talk. And apologize.
TIMOTHY: Thank god...
POLKA DOT: We want to like, have a group talk to settle everything out.
CROSSBONE: That would help me understand what's going on, yeah...
TIMOTHY: ...
TIMOTHY: Would...it be okay if I talk with Devo myself? Alone?
POLKA DOT: Huh?
POLKA DOT: I mean-
POLKA DOT: There's some stuff that's, like-
POLKA DOT: Probably best to talk over all at once-
TIMOTHY: I get it, but...
TIMOTHY: ...he's my partner, and I want to hear his apology without, like...people around.
TIMOTHY: I...have apologies for him too.
 

You sigh, relenting.

POLKA DOT: Alright...he's out to the left of the tent.
POLKA DOT: Gives me time to catch Willow up...
TIMOTHY: Wish me luck, then.
 

He gets up slowly, heading for the tent entrance with a sluggish step.

CROSSBONE: Break a leg!
TIMOTHY: Hopefully not!
 

With that, he's out of the tent, leaving you and Cross.

CROSSBONE: So....
CROSSBONE: What exactly did I miss while I slept?
POLKA DOT: So there was this...weasel, car, thing....













 

Tim's chest tightens as he spots her, sitting there off to the side- both toys flinching when they make eye contact.

Even so, he trudges forward, up until he gets a foot or so away from the red bear.

FATALE: ...you can sit.
FATALE: I'm guessing Ribbon sent you out to deal with me?
FATALE: so much for the group meeting...
TIMOTHY: No, uh, the group meeting was suggested-
TIMOTHY: We're...still doing that.
TIMOTHY: ...but I wanted to talk to you first. And apologize.
 

Her eyes widen, turning to face him.

FATALE: You? Actually-
FATALE: You're apologizing to me?
TIMOTHY: Y...yeah.
 

He sits down in the snow, his paws in his lap.

TIMOTHY: ...
TIMOTHY: I'm...I'm so sorry, for-
TIMOTHY: For scaring you.
TIMOTHY: I don't know what happened, still, and I don't understand-
TIMOTHY: But whatever happened when I touched you, that scared you so bad-
TIMOTHY: I....I'm sorry.
TIMOTHY: I never want to hurt you like that, ever again.
TIMOTHY: I know that...I might, even if I don't want to, and I'm not trying to.
TIMOTHY: I remember you telling me when we first started things that- that mistakes happen, in the kind of relationship we have.
TIMOTHY: But you need to- you need to make good on making them right.
TIMOTHY: ...
TIMOTHY: If you need me to stop touching you, period-
 

Fatale's stunned, staring at him with wide eyes.

TIMOTHY: ....are you-
FATALE: I'm...
FATALE: Hmph.
FATALE: You're...full of surprises.
TIMOTHY: H-huh?
FATALE: I can't say I expected you to get down on hand and knee and beg for forgiveness, but-
FATALE: I...

She takes a deep breath, visibly struggling with her words.

FATALE: It's...not...entirely-
FATALE: Your...fault.
FATALE: There are-

Small embroidered sweat drops appear on her brow.

FATALE: There are things-
TIMOTHY: ...things?
FATALE: Yes, things-
FATALE: That you do not know about me.
FATALE: That you'd have no way of knowing.
TIMOTHY: Is...is this about Saddler?
 

She bristles, Tim flinching away and raising his paws up apologetically.

TIMOTHY: Sorry, so-
FATALE: Everything is about Saddler, Timothy.
FATALE: You're...not wrong.
FATALE: ...
 

She presses a paw to her temple, struggling.

FATALE: this is harder than i thought
TIMOTHY: It's...it's okay, you can take your time.
TIMOTHY: I know I don't-
TIMOTHY: I know I don't know everything about you. And that's okay.
TIMOTHY: We promised we'd take it one step at a time, right?
 

Fatale gives him a blank stare, unable to feign recognition.

Tim slumps.

TIMOTHY: ...do you...remember that?
FATALE: That...is a part of the problem.
FATALE: I am not-
 

She sputters.

FATALE: I am- I am not-
FATALE: I am NOT-!
 

The words won't come, her tone getting increasingly more frustrated.

Tim doesn't say anything, his face growing more and more concerned.

FATALE: I...don't look at me like that.
FATALE: I can do this.
TIMOTHY: I know, I-
TIMOTHY: You look like you're in pain.
 

She can't help but laugh, just as bitter as it was while talking to Polka.

FATALE: It's...nothing new, for me.
FATALE: This situation? Yes, but pain- no.
FATALE: ....
FATALE: I...am not Devo.
 

Tim blinks, not sure if he heard correctly.

TIMOTHY: You're....what?
FATALE: I am not Devo.
TIMOTHY: That's, uh-
TIMOTHY: What?
FATALE: ...how many times are you going to make me say it?
FATALE: Though I suppose it is good practice.
TIMOTHY: No, I just- I don't think I'm-
TIMOTHY: You're...not Devo.
FATALE: That's what I'm saying, yes.
 

The words sink in, Tim processing them with gears visibly grinding in his head.

It clicks.

The scottie dog groans, placing his face in his hands.

FATALE: ...what now?
FATALE: Am I so repulsive that you-
TIMOTHY: No, no, I just-
TIMOTHY: That...
TIMOTHY: I don't-
TIMOTHY: It makes...more sense, now, even if I don't-
TIMOTHY: ...fuck, so I just-
TIMOTHY: That really-
TIMOTHY: ...I'm...I'm really...
 

He's struggling, fumbling over his words.

TIMOTHY: I'm really, really sorry for touching you-
TIMOTHY: I didn't- I didn't know, I didn't know that could even-
TIMOTHY: How exactly did this-?!
 

Fatale's quiet for a few moments, taking in his mess of a reaction.

FATALE: ...we don't know.
FATALE: We're just...like this.
FATALE: We used to be, before and during Saddler's...care.
FATALE: ...and then we stopped.
TIMOTHY: Stopped...what?
FATALE: Existing, I suppose.
FATALE: ...and then Devo met you.

She can't keep the malice from sinking into her voice, Tim wincing.

TIMOTHY: I...get the feeling that you don't...like me very much.
FATALE: ...somewhat of an understatement, but yes.
FATALE: Unfortunately for me, I have agreed with Silk Ribbon to "play nice" for the rest of this journey.
FATALE: ...this means a lot to Devo.
FATALE: And while I can't stand you-
 

Another wince from Tim.

FATALE: ...I will admit that me accusing you of unsavory intent earlier was off base.
FATALE: At the very least, that time.
FATALE: I do not! Approve! Of this whole relationship!
FATALE: ...but I will go along with it. For now.
FATALE: And I am...sorry.
FATALE: For screaming at you.
FATALE: ...and hitting your hand.
 

Tim nods, still looking rather stunned.

TIMOTHY: W...well...thank you for...apologizing.
TIMOTHY: ...
TIMOTHY: God, this is-
TIMOTHY: This is a lot.
FATALE: You're telling me.
FATALE: You don't have to share a body with three other-
TIMOTHY: Three?!
TIMOTHY: There are four-
TIMOTHY: Oh god, the colors...
FATALE: ...at least you catch on quick.
TIMOTHY: W-
 

His face heats up.

TIMOTHY: Who did I-
TIMOTHY: Who did I hug last night-
FATALE: ...he got a hug out of you?
 

She can't help but throw her head back and laugh, gleeful this time.

FATALE: That sly dog.
FATALE: You'll hear more about him at the meeting, I'm sure.
FATALE: Ribbon thinks it's a good idea for us to have a little Q and A.
TIMOTHY: Sheesh...alright...
TIMOTHY: Thanks for...talking with me about this beforehand.
FATALE: ...I'm...glad we did also.
FATALE: But let me make this clear-
 

She points to her red cheek markings.

FATALE: If you see this color-
FATALE: Do not touch me.
FATALE: I am not your friend, let alone your....ech.
FATALE: And if you don't know, you ask.
FATALE: Do I make myself clear.
TIMOTHY: ...crystal.
 

He gives an affirmative nod, looking intimidated but assured.

TIMOTHY: What, do I...call you, anyway?
TIMOTHY: Do you have a name?
FATALE: ...Fatale. She/her.
TIMOTHY: Oh, uh-
TIMOTHY: Cool. I'll try to...remember that.
TIMOTHY: Cool.








CROSSBONE: ...wow.
POLKA DOT: Yyyyeah.
POLKA DOT: Just...one big old clusterfuck.
CROSSBONE: No kidding...
CROSSBONE: ...but...a group chat, then?
CROSSBONE: You said Devo has something to talk about- is he okay?
POLKA DOT: We'll...get to that.
 

The door of the tent unzips, Tim and Fatale stepping inside. The bear's putting some distance between herself and the scottie dog, sitting on the same campfire seat as Tim- but a good bit apart.

FATALE: You...should probably get Roulette.
FATALE: ...
FATALE: I was too nervous to invite it.
POLKA DOT: ...sit tight.
 

You give your partner's hand a pat as you get up and poke your head outside.

POLKA DOT: Hey, Roulette?
POLKA DOT: You, uh-
POLKA DOT: You got some time to come in here and talk over stuff?
POLKA DOT: Team...huddle...thing.

It doesn't look up.

ROULETTE: . . .
ROULETTE: ...I need to stand watch, still.
ROULETTE: I apologize.
POLKA DOT: It's, uh-
POLKA DOT: It's really important.
POLKA DOT: Like, really important.
ROULETTE: ...did something happen?
POLKA DOT: ...kind...of.
POLKA DOT: Everything's-
POLKA DOT: Everything's fine, Devo just- he wants to talk about some stuff.
POLKA DOT: ...it's important for him for you to be there, I think.

The robot turns to look at you, very briefly.

It says nothing as it makes its way cautiously inside.

You try to ignore the nerves building in your chest, making you feel sick.

H...here we go.

Fatale glances up at Roulette as it makes its way in, her eyes...you swear you can make out some degree of remorse.

It glances about the tent, not making eye contact with anyone,
waiting for someone to speak.

Fatale clears her throat.

FATALE: I-I, ah-
FATALE: It is...
FATALE: I wanted to-
 

Words stutter out, clearly struggling.

FATALE: Oh...fuck it.
 

She huffs, gripping the seat with her plush paws.

FATALE: I am NOT Devo, and I-
FATALE: I am-
FATALE: I am sorry, for causing problems, earlier.
FATALE: I didn't- I shouldn't have snapped and been so, ridiculous, with the jerky.
FATALE: It was stupid and I could have gotten...people hurt.
 

Her eyes trail over to Roulette, words still spilling out before anyone can get a word in edgewise.

FATALE: I was reckless.
FATALE: ...this is...an issue of mine, specifically. I think.
FATALE: And I did not- I do not want to do that again.
FATALE: ...I'm sorry.
 

Roulette's lens widens slowly.

It looks up in time to see that Fatale is looking at /it/.

ROULETTE: ...it-
ROULETTE: I...fell asleep on watch.
ROULETTE: If...anyone put us all in danger, it was me.
ROULETTE: I apologize. ...Profusely.
ROULETTE: ...I appreciate you...speaking with us.
 

The robot looks back at the floor.

FATALE: Why are y-
 

She huffs, rubbing the side of her face.

FATALE: I'm the one apologizing here.
POLKA DOT: F-
 

She raises a paw to shush you, turning back to Roulette.

FATALE: You don't- don't do that.
FATALE: You and Ribbon caught that thing in the first place and I was stupid about it.
FATALE: I wasn't able to do anything, and you handled it.
FATALE: ...give yourself some credit.
 

You can hear its fans spinning up louder, but it doesn't respond directly.

She waits for a response, before sighing.

FATALE: ...there you have it.
CROSSBONE: S...so, wait, you're-
CROSSBONE: You're not Devo.
FATALE: ...correct.
CROSSBONE: That's...
CROSSBONE: ...oh!
 

She snaps her fingers.

CROSSBONE: I've! I've heard of this!
TIMOTHY: H-huh?
POLKA DOT: You have?!
CROSSBONE: Sort of!
CROSSBONE: Sometimes, with us vpets-
CROSSBONE: There can be more than one pet in a shell.
CROSSBONE: Multipets, they call them.
POLKA DOT: ...multipet?
CROSSBONE: Yeah!
CROSSBONE: There's other kinds of toys, too-
CROSSBONE: ...but I've never heard of it happening with a bean bear.
CROSSBONE: Most toys I know who have this have, well...it's just...how they show up.
CROSSBONE: It's a part of their...whole deal.
FATALE: I assure you, I don't exactly feel not a part of a "whole deal."
CROSSBONE: S...sorry, yeah.
CROSSBONE: Bad wording on my part.
FATALE: Still....I get what you mean, I think.
FATALE: I don't exactly know why we're like this, either.
FATALE: As far as I can tell, it is, in fact, how we've always been.
TIMOTHY: But...you couldn't tell any of us, right?
FATALE: ...correct.
FATALE: It was only relatively recently that myself and the other two- Devo aside- started...waking up again, I suppose.
FATALE: We can't...exactly tell what happens when the others are out.
FATALE: I can't tell what Devo does, he can't tell what I do, etcetera.
FATALE: We've been able to piece together enough of the "big picture" to know who you all are, but...
FATALE: Effectively, aside from-
 

She glances over at Roulette again before looking away.

FATALE: ...some small encounters-
FATALE: We do not know you all very well.
FATALE: Scout- the bear you met yesterday-
FATALE: -is likely to be friendly enough.
FATALE: ...though I get the feeling he caused a bit of trouble himself.
ROULETTE: ...he didn't.
ROULETTE: As
ROULETTE: far as I am aware.
TIMOTHY: He was, kind of....
TIMOTHY: Curious, though.
CROSSBONE: That's a way to put it, yeah...
FATALE: Let me guess-
FATALE: Monsters?
POLKA DOT: ...yup.
FATALE: Oh, he loves those.
FATALE: I have to clean up after him leaving books everywhere. Such a mess.
 

She sighs, not without fondness to it.

FATALE: ...he's a good person.
FATALE: But very...spontaneous.
FATALE: If you see the yellow accents, that would be him.
CROSSBONE: And you're, red, right?
FATALE: Correct.
CROSSBONE: And your name?
FATALE: Fatale. And- she/her.
 

She seems more confident, saying it this time.

FATALE: I can't say that I'll be the most...sociable.
FATALE: But I want to be civil, for Devo's sake.
TIMOTHY: ...what about the fourth one?
FATALE: Oh, him.
 

She scoffs.

FATALE: Yes, I suppose I should cover the elephant in the room-
FATALE: The black tinted bear has no name, at least not that I know of.
FATALE: He is possibly going to be a thorn in your side.
CROSSBONE: ...how so...?
FATALE: Well-
 

The bear gestures dramatically to Tim.

FATALE: Both he and I do not want to be in a relationship with Timothy here.
TIMOTHY: U-uh-
FATALE: Unlike me, however, he's not willing to cooperate for the sake of Devo.
FATALE: In fact, he hates all of us in here.
FATALE: With any luck, he won't bother you at all, but-
FATALE: Watch out, I suppose.
ROULETTE: . . .
ROULETTE: ...I, have been around him...a few times.
 

Fatale snaps her head around.

FATALE: He didn't hurt you, did he?!
 

Roulette flinches, putting its gaze back to the floor.

ROULETTE: ...no.
ROULETTE: It didn't...seem as if he wanted to at all, either.
ROULETTE: We were around each other for...at least, a few hours, at a time...
FATALE: ....

Her expression seems...shocked.

FATALE: That's...
FATALE: Uncharacteristic of him.
FATALE: He's never uttered so much as a kind word in my direction.
FATALE: All I've seen of him is a violent brute.
FATALE: Are you sure-
 

Its fans whirr faster.

ROULETTE: ...yes...
ROULETTE: He seemed to...not be doing well.
ROULETTE: He came to my room, and was very quiet.
ROULETTE: I would...turn the TV or radio on low. Sometimes I would share snacks.
ROULETTE: ...we would talk, a little. He wouldn't answer when I would ask if there was anything wrong.
ROULETTE: I...assumed he was upset, and did not want to share, so I wouldn't try to pry.
ROULETTE: . . .
ROULETTE: ...I...apologize, if I have caused more issues by bringing this up.
ROULETTE: ...I do not want to violate his privacy, either, s-
ROULETTE: ...apologies...for...
 

It trails off, and doesn't continue.

FATALE: ...you're fine.
 

She doesn't elaborate, lost in thought.

POLKA DOT: W-well, uh-
POLKA DOT: We'll, just-
POLKA DOT: Have to...see?
FATALE: ...mm.
TIMOTHY: W-well...if he gets along with Roulette, he can't be a bad guy, right-
 

Fatale shoots him a dirty look, the dog shutting up.

TIMOTHY: ...just saying.
CROSSBONE: If he's willing to, um, be nice, then...we can try to be welcoming him.
CROSSBONE: Just like the rest of you.
FATALE: ...your funeral, I suppose.
FATALE: But I can't stop you from being nice.
POLKA DOT: And, uh-
POLKA DOT: The dream, thing.
FATALE: Right...
FATALE: So far, our...group, has only been able to communicate via dream.
FATALE: It didn't used to be like this, but since coming back, there have been...barriers, like I said.
FATALE: Devo still doesn't even...know we exist, not really.
FATALE: He keeps...forgetting, when he wakes up.
FATALE: ...no matter how hard I try.
FATALE: ...I'm not sure what to do about it.
 

...this could be a good point to poke at the whole dream thing...everybody's been seeing weird shit, right...?