[TOY] Plaything

[knux400]

So... What other kinds of critters live around here? I mean, obviously we've met the ragmirror, but what about other, smaller, safer stuff?


...You ever see these, like, little weasel-y guys?

[skinstealer]

CROSSBONE: ...um
CROSSBONE: so
CROSSBONE: hm

 

Think, think-

CROSSBONE: You know this place, r-right?
CORSAIR: Yep.
CROSSBONE: Prrrretty well?
CROSSBONE: A-and it's-
CROSSBONE: It's woods.
CROSSBONE: Obviously we um
CROSSBONE: The ragmirror.
CROSSBONE: Handled that.
CORSAIR: More or less.
CORSAIR: ...You good?
CROSSBONE: Yeah, yeah!
CROSSBONE: Just-
CROSSBONE: N.
CROSSBONE: Words aren't-


 

You wring your hands.

CROSSBONE: ...sorry. I'm kind of a mess with-
CROSSBONE: With new people.
CROSSBONE: Small talk and all.
CROSSBONE: B-but you do know things, and that's- I want to learn.
CORSAIR: We don't gotta talk.
CORSAIR: ...But if you have questions. Up t'you I guess.


 

You take a moment before nodding.

CROSSBONE: R-right. To the point then.
CROSSBONE: We found this-
CROSSBONE: It looked like a little car, weasel, thing-

 

You open your hands about as large as you remember.

CROSSBONE: About...this big.
CROSSBONE: It doesn't seem to have followed us back, and I can't blame it after the fight...
CROSSBONE: ...but I don't know much about them.
CROSSBONE: And-
CROSSBONE: I hope it's okay.
CORSAIR: Hell wyrms.
CORSAIR: If you don't antagonize 'em, they're mostly harmless.
CORSAIR: Usually a bit bigger than that, at least. Sometimes much bigger.
CORSAIR: The biggest are... leaders, I guess you'd say. And the little ones stay with 'em. Makes a whole convoy of 'em together.
CORSAIR: ...Might not believe it given how they can be, but some of the smaller ones get kept as pets. Domesticated.
CORSAIR: May see a few of those in town, but they're not popular here.
CORSAIR: I've heard of some strays around nearby.
CORSAIR: Could've been part of a convoy and somethin' happened, or maybe they're domesticated wyrms that ended up as strays.
CORSAIR: That's probably what ya ran into.
CORSAIR: ...They steal from people travelin' sometimes. Probably thought ya had food.

 

Your pixel character can't help but make a nervous shimmy.

CROSSBONE: There were snacks involved.
CORSAIR: That'd do it.
CORSAIR: Probably just wanted food.
CROSSBONE: Oh...
CROSSBONE: Is it...hungry on its own, then?
CROSSBONE: Is it not eating well...?
CORSAIR: Could be. Couldn't tell ya.
CORSAIR: It's cold out. Food's scarce. And it was alone instead of havin' a convoy to provide for it.
CORSAIR: Might've been hungry, might've wanted the safety in numbers. That kinda thing.
CORSAIR: Who knows.



CROSSBONE: ....



CROSSBONE: ...............





CROSSBONE: You said they can be domesticated?
CORSAIR: Yep.
CROSSBONE: Eeeeasily?
CORSAIR: ...You got a plan in mind?
CROSSBONE: Just.
CROSSBONE: If it came back-
CROSSBONE: And it *needed* food-
CORSAIR: Depends on how tame it is, I'd say.
CORSAIR: You lookin' for a pet?
CROSSBONE: More of...
CROSSBONE: ....support animal.
CROSSBONE: B-but if that's silly-
CORSAIR: For you?
CROSSBONE: *no*, but-
CORSAIR: Roulette?
CROSSBONE: maybe
CORSAIR: ...Don't think it's a bad idea.
CORSAIR: But didn't it run off?
CROSSBONE: Yeah...
CROSSBONE: ...guess it's a pipedream.
CORSAIR: Never know.

 

She turns her head just enough to glance over at you, but makes no further comment.

CROSSBONE: ....
CROSSBONE: yeah
CROSSBONE: I'll...think about it.
CROSSBONE: ....


 

You glance around, letting out a soft beep as you notice rustling in one of the nearby trees- nothing large, but-

CROSSBONE: ...does this place have small...animals?
CORSAIR: Mhm.
CORSAIR: Got these plastic-lookin' spirals, gummy bugs, even some eyeballs that bounce around on their own.


 

The snake rubs her shoulder, looking somewhat nervous.

CORSAIR: ...Why you askin'?
CORSAIR: You scoutin' for Scout?
CROSSBONE: O-oh, just-



 

hope i didnt offend



You point at the trees, some rustling still going.

CORSAIR: ...Yep. That's animals.
CORSAIR: ...I'm not much of a tour guide, y'know.
CROSSBONE: R-RIGHT
CROSSBONE: sorry
CROSSBONE: ...
CORSAIR: Nothin' to apologize for.
CORSAIR: ...I'm not much for small talk, either.
CORSAIR: Nearly at the gate, anyway.


 

You snap your head to attention.

Sure enough, a massive wall of wooden stacking logs lays ahead, a structure in your direct path.

It looks...scratched up and stained, having clearly seen better days, but incredibly sturdy.

A metal gate- actual metal from the look of it, not plastic...and god, *old* too- is built into the frame, clearly custom fastened for a secure fit.





You can't help but feel somewhat awestruck by it. Actual metal architecture, such a rarity in the city-



Corsair lets you marvel at the metal, while she approaches the guard leaning by the gate.

CORSAIR: Mornin', Snicker.


 

The cowboy nods back in your direction.

CORSAIR: She's with me.


 

Snicker lets out a-

....mechanical *snore*, before snapping awake with an animatronic CHUNK.


Her eyes snap open, jaw gnashing a few times- you really, really do not like the look of those teeth, even if you desperately try to assure yourself she's just...getting her bearings.

Sure enough, her tone is cordial.

SNICKER: Kinda early, ain't it?
SNICKER: Y'all goin' for a stroll?
CORSAIR: Mhm. Out n' about.
CORSAIR: Don't worry, I can handle it.


 

She grins, hefting the scepter up onto her shoulder.

SNICKER: Of course, yeah.


 

You look over at Corsair, hoping your confusion is more discrete than it feels.

CORSAIR: ...You all ready, Cross?
CROSSBONE: Yes, yeah, y-
SNICKER: Now hold on...
SNICKER: Corsair.
SNICKER: Mange has got his eye on this one.
SNICKER: I'm on orders to watch her. Suspicious activity.


 

The cowboy steps to the side, blocking Snicker's view of you.

CORSAIR: Crossbone's fine.
CORSAIR: She's with me. Nothin' to worry ab-
CROSSBONE: I!
CROSSBONE: I mean you no trouble-!


 

You bow, hard enough to make your keychain tail rattle.

CROSSBONE: I'm aware I'm causing a lot of stress but I just want to get this done
SNICKER: uh
CROSSBONE: and get what i need and go home with my friends so i will try
SNICKER: Uh
CROSSBONE: to get out of your hair very very soon!


 

Snicker's scary mouth clamps shut, shocked.

CROSSBONE: A-and if there's anything I can get you while I'm out there I can do my best!


 

what the fuck why did i OFFER THAT

CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...uh-huh.
CORSAIR: So there ya go.
SNICKER: I-
SNICKER: Hey, buddy, I'm-
SNICKER: cant tell whether to be flattered or if this is weird sheesh
SNICKER: I'm a hunter, okay?


 

She grabs you by a horn with her massive paw and yanks you upright, getting a surprised chirp.

The cowboy instantly pulls Snicker's hand off of you.

CORSAIR: Watch it.
CROSSBONE: nonono its ok


 

Snicker nearly shifts to the manic, teeth bared state-

Before slowly grinding her gears back down, pulling her hand out of Corsair's gently.

SNICKER: Not a lord or whatever the hell you seem to think I am.
SNICKER: And I don't need a new errand girl when I don't know what you can even do.
SNICKER: Last time I trusted a stranger with shit we needed done here, Mange tore me a new one.
CROSSBONE: oh
SNICKER: Oh for- Don't look so damn sad!
CROSSBONE: I just-
SNICKER: You want to help make this easier?
SNICKER: Sure. We can do that.
SNICKER: I have-


 

She slaps the gate wall.

SNICKER: SO MUCH stupid ass paperwork to deal with today.
SNICKER: And I do not need to be tailing a suicidal keychain pet-


 

The words sting.

SNICKER: -looking to become a monster.
SNICKER: You tell me what you're gonna do, and I'll tell you the fastest way I'd do it.


 

She glances over at Corsair.

SNICKER: And she'll be your chaperone.

 

Corsair's grip tightens around the scepter, her wooden claw nearly balling into a fist.
She's staring daggers, though Snicker doesn't seem to notice at all.
The snake says nothing, regardless.

You have the floor.

...and Snicker has the information.
Picking your words could get you some important clues.

[knux400]

Well. It seems like Snicker at least partially knows what's up already, so may as well be direct without offering too much extra information.

Just say you're going out for "the monster thing" (or something brief like that) and change the subject to getting it done as quickly and quietly as possible. Only give details if pressed.

[skinstealer]

CROSSBONE: ....

 

Shit. I really have to- I have to be careful, but- maybe she already knows a good bit. I could  be vague!

CROSSBONE: I mean. That's what I'm here for.
CROSSBONE: B-becoming a monster.
SNICKER: Uh huh.

 

She stares at you.

CROSSBONE: A-and I want to get iit done as quickly and quietly as possible.
SNICKER: Uhhh huh.

 

The animatronic is not taking the bait.

SNICKER: That it?
SNICKER: That your whole plan?
SNICKER: Damn. 
SNICKER: Here I thought city folks'd be smarter than us lowly rural hicks.

 

She makes a spitting sound, the intent obvious even without any saliva involved.

You try and fail not to flinch.

SNICKER: Clearly you don't know what you're working with.
SNICKER: So lemme lay what you're missing out flat, and you get one more try.
SNICKER: We've got somebody running around turning people into monsters.
SNICKER: So far, not a single damn one has stayed sane. 
SNICKER: Every one of them had to be put down before they killed somebody.
SNICKER: Mange's orders.
SNICKER: So even if you find the prick doing this to our village, you need a way to not become a liability.
SNICKER: Otherwise, you're gonna get a shotgun blast directly-

 

She points to your screen face.

SNICKER: Riiight there.

 

Corsair grabs Snicker's wrist, yanking her over to face the snake instead.

CORSAIR: I already warned you.
CORSAIR: You're not gonna touch her again, you hear me?
CORSAIR: Nod your head.

 

Her grip tightens, staring Snicker down.

Snicker bares her teeth for a moment, her eyelids shifting into their angry state just as briefly-

-before she yanks her hand away.

SNICKER: Sure.

 

The nod she gives is exaggerated, a little huff escaping.

SNICKER: I won't lay a claw on her unless she starts disemboweling toys.
SNICKER: You want to prevent that?
SNICKER: Do a good job. 
SNICKER: Got it?
CORSAIR: I'm handling it.
CORSAIR: Why don't you play nice n' tell her what she wants to know, so we can move on already?
SNICKER: Well, she's gotta try one more time before I know what she wants.
SNICKER: You go in all cocky like this?
SNICKER: You don't even know anything about the little shit causing this mess.
SNICKER: At this rate I'd doubt you know anything about curses, even.
SNICKER: So, one more time.
SNICKER: If you're still planning on doing this, I'm gonna need more specific info if you want any help.
SNICKER: Otherwise, I'm letting you risk getting blasted into plastic shards help-free.
 

If you want to get information from Snicker, you will need to have a plan.
Choosing to not elaborate is also an option, but you will not receive information.

[knux400]

It's hard to have a proper game plan when we know pretty much nothing about the person laying curses in the first place. Do they strike at specific times? Is there a certain demographic of toy they're more likely to go after? What spots specifically do they lurk in? Any or all of those factors could impact how we plan on encountering this person.

We're most likely going to need to get Cross cursed before we try and deal with the cursegiver, since they're probably not going to want to do us any favors after we announce our intentions to apprehend them. It would make the most sense for Cross to go in alone and for Corsair to follow behind from a safe distance. Once Cross gets zapped, Corsair can move in, locate the cursey guy, and deal with them.

As for how we plan to keep Cross sane... Again, this is completely new information to us, so we didn't really have a plan for that at all. My assumption, though, is that none of the other people who got transformed went into the forest with the explicit intention of being transformed, so hopefully that will give Cross a bit of an advantage in that department. If not, she'll still be out in the middle of the forest, so we can scramble the rest of the group to try and calm her down before she gets to the village and Snicker has to... y'know.

If nothing else, I'm banking on the fact that Cross losing herself would be a pretty shitty ending to a love story that the narrative has already invested a lot of time and effort into.

[skinstealer]

CROSSBONE: I-
CROSSBONE: That's not-

 

An irritated beep bursts out of you as your pixel character wiggles in unmasked annoyance.

CROSSBONE: How do you expect me to know anything if you won't tell me!
CROSSBONE: You're- you're not being fair!

 

Your keychain tail lashes, Snicker's brows raising as it makes imprints in the snow.

CROSSBONE: You tell ME about the curse user!
CROSSBONE: YOU'RE the one on guard!
CROSSBONE: Where do they show up!
CROSSBONE: When do they show up!
CROSSBONE: Who's targeted, where do they go after?!
CROSSBONE: If you're so much smarter than me-
CROSSBONE: Then surely YOU know that!

 

Snicker keeps her eyes trained on you-

-before laughing, a mechanical barking sound.

SNICKER: Finally! She has some guts!
SNICKER: City girl can speak with her whole chest after all!

 

...she's...not mad?

SNICKER: Sure.

 

oh

SNICKER: I'll fill you in.

 

ok

SNICKER: I'm the guard most days, yeah.
SNICKER: Vortex does just as much, but it's better suited for going out on rounds.
SNICKER: Thing's practically a monster itself.

 

She can't help but chuckle to herself, and not particularly kindly.

Corsair is simply staring at Snicker at this point, but she just seems to look tired more than anything.

SNICKER: So, I don't see a lot of this shit directly.
SNICKER: But I go out on hunts when it's necessary- and unfortunately that means cleanup duty.
CROSSBONE: ...c...cleanup?
SNICKER: I handle the bodies.

 

You feel your circuits short for a moment, the coldness to her tone making you wish you hadn't asked.

SNICKER: Sometimes they're already gone, sometimes- they wish they were.
SNICKER: I've seen toys that should have been long dead crawl around while still torn to pieces.
SNICKER: Seen a guy beg once.
SNICKER: Put him down myself.
SNICKER: ....
SNICKER: Lived down the road from the lodge.

 

She hesitates.

SNICKER: You asked for demographics.
SNICKER: From what I can tell, it's folks who live alone.
SNICKER: At first it was just toys who wouldn't get missed easy.
SNICKER: Outcast types.
SNICKER: Now it's the weirdos getting picked off that send more of a message.
SNICKER: Last one was already dead by the time we got there.
SNICKER: As far as I know, curse user set them up themself.
CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...You gonna elaborate or you just waitin' for attention?
CORSAIR: We're burnin' daylight.
SNICKER: I was getting to it.
CORSAIR: Get to gettin' then.
SNICKER: They had words stitched into their chest, alright?
SNICKER: Toy got all warped up from the curse, massive.
SNICKER: Seams got ripped out of their face and their eye embroidery undone.
SNICKER: Thread got sewn back in as a message.

 

She opens her arms dramatically, eyes narrowing.

SNICKER: "WOE TO THE FAITHLESS".

 

There's no joy to it.

SNICKER: ...toy in question was a real nut. Guy named Garth.
SNICKER: Didn't believe in the narrative, would preach about it in the square.
SNICKER: Went missing one night, then some monster bodies showed up mangled in the woods.
SNICKER: Big bites taken out of them. We put two and two together.
SNICKER: Looked like the curse user let ol' Garth run around for a few nights to freak us out before maiming them and impaling them on a tree for us to find.
SNICKER: Like I said. A message.
CORSAIR: That just your guess?
CORSAIR: Any actual evidence the curse user did both?

 

Snicker's jaw clamps shut.





Her painted animatronic eyes roll to the side.

SNICKER: Well, either that or the swordsman.
SNICKER: Possible that freak's up to something, I guess.
SNICKER: Mange's theory is that he's the guy who strung up the body but I dunno.
SNICKER: I nicked him once with my gun and he's like.
SNICKER: Puny.
SNICKER: Which means he's fast, and he's good with that fucking sword of his-
SNICKER: But no way in hell he can lift a toy three times your size.
CORSAIR: Swordsman didn't do it.
CORSAIR: Doubt your curse user did either, but you're s'posed to be the hunter 'round here.
SNICKER: What, you fraternizing with the guy or something?
CORSAIR: Are you?
CORSAIR: Seems pretty stupid not to talk to someone you think might've had somethin' to do with all this.
CORSAIR: ...Not that you're a detective. You're more interested in killin' things, right?
CORSAIR: Or just cleanin' up bodies?
CORSAIR: Guess that's a lot easier than doin' anything about any of this, right?
SNICKER: Sheesh, who pissed in your cereal today?
SNICKER: Was a simple question!

 

She rolls her eyes.

Corsair leans her scepter to the side, pointing at you.

CORSAIR: Go ahead.



 

You have been frozen to the spot.

CROSSBONE: U-uh



CROSSBONE: Well



CROSSBONE: T-that's still-



CROSSBONE: That was only one of my questions.
SNICKER: ...right.
SNICKER: You wanted to know places.
SNICKER: Not my forte. Like I said, I'm the guy at the gate.
SNICKER: The times I get out there, it's because it's been made my fucking problem.
SNICKER: Vortex'd know better than me.
SNICKER: ...there, you know what?
SNICKER: That's my suggestion.
SNICKER: Go pester it in its shack.
SNICKER: Bout an hour's walk outside the wall.

 

...all that to go get told to ask somebody else...


You do your best to avoid looking stupid.

CROSSBONE: Th. Thank you for the help.
SNICKER: Yeah, yeah.
SNICKER: Take your keychain ass and your chaperone and start moving.
SNICKER: Sun goes down quicker than you'd expect.
CROSSBONE: ...it's morning.
SNICKER: Maybe where you come from, but out here- narrative packs a nasty sting.

 

She reaches for the crank at her side, raising the metal gate-

SNICKER: Go on. Get outta here.



 

-the only thing ahead of you looking like long stretches of snow and trees.






Zero signage at all.

CORSAIR: Uh-huh.

 

Corsair leans her scepter on her shoulder and steps through the open gate.

CORSAIR: You lock us out on the way back, and I'll bust the gate down.

 

She gives a wave, not looking in Snicker's direction.

SNICKER: What, and deal with your friends pitchin' a fit?
SNICKER: Noooo thank you!

 

You quickly catch up behind her-

And then the gate closes.

CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...Sorry 'bout that.
CORSAIR: Pissed me off.
CROSSBONE: No, it's-
CROSSBONE: ...
CROSSBONE: You did good.

 

She gives the slightest of shrugs.

CORSAIR: Got info, at least.
CORSAIR: Which is that: she doesn't know what the hell she's doin', and she's got no info.

 

The snake rubs her face.

CORSAIR: Sooner I'm outta this hellhole, th' better.
CROSSBONE: ...yeah.
CROSSBONE: I...
CROSSBONE: This isn't really what I expected either.
CORSAIR: ...You just wanna get cursed, then you're gone, right?
CROSSBONE: I mean, yeah, that's the plan-
CORSAIR: Good.
CORSAIR: Place ain't safe.
CROSSBONE: ...
CROSSBONE: Then why...

 

You shake your head.

CROSSBONE: Sorry. Nosy.
CORSAIR: I'd rather you just ask it.
CROSSBONE: ...why are you sticking around, then?
CORSAIR: ...Not dangerous for me.
CORSAIR: And y'all need help while you're here, right?
CROSSBONE: But-
CROSSBONE: You didn't even know us before last night.
CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...haven't been here long.
CORSAIR: ...but you want an actual answer, right?

 

You nod a little.

She's ahead of you, not looking in your direction.

But it seems like she can tell, somehow.

CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: Helpin' y'all out beats what I was doin' before.
CROSSBONE: ....what are you gonna do after, then?

 

She rubs her chin with a thumb, then shrugs.

CORSAIR: ...Probably... same as before.
CORSAIR: Got nothin' else.



CORSAIR: . . .



CORSAIR: This place was just s'posed to be a pit stop.
CORSAIR: Met Tim, knew I couldn't just up n' leave til y'all did.
CORSAIR: Wanna help... and I'm still curious.

 

She raises her scepter a few inches and taps it, showing it to you.

The colors catch your eye.

CORSAIR: It's reactin' still, to all five of you; some more than others, but all of ya just the same.
CORSAIR: Can't exactly put that mystery down, can I?







CORSAIR: ...Not like I had much of a plan, anyway.

[knux400]

To Vortex's then, I guess. Hopefully it's a little more cooperative.

"...So... Not to be rude or intrusive or anything, but you really don't have anything else? No jobs or hobbies or anything like that? Just... a funky stick and a cool hat?"

[skinstealer]

CROSSBONE: Well...
CROSSBONE: ........
CROSSBONE: Like, nothing-nothing?

 

You realize how awful that sounds.

CROSSBONE: S-
CROSSBONE: SORRY
CROSSBONE: Not...trying to be rude, just...
CORSAIR: ...was just wandering.
CORSAIR: What's it matter?
CROSSBONE: It's, just...
CROSSBONE: I don't....
CROSSBONE: Meet a lot of people like me.

 

You sway from side to side as you walk.

CROSSBONE: Like, I have sewing and stuff back home, but it's like-
CROSSBONE: Do you have anything like that?
CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...hobbies?

 

She scratches the back of her neck.

CORSAIR: I'm always out on the road these days.
CORSAIR: Not much time to stop n' do things like that.
CORSAIR: ...I'm okay at pool. Just picked it up from, lots of bars.
CORSAIR: Guess wanderin' around counts. Kinda. Like to explore places, even if there's no people there.
CORSAIR: . . .

 

She holds up her scepter.

CORSAIR: I'm tryin' to work with this thing a little better.
CORSAIR: ...A lot of it's automatic, though.
CORSAIR: Usually just follow the magic's lead.
CORSAIR: ...It'd make more sense if you used this kinda magic. You can work it by just leanin' into it.
CORSAIR: Gotta be careful, though, cause it can get outta control easy.
CORSAIR: Sometimes I gotta direct it away. ...Haven't been able to do much more with it, yet.
CORSAIR: Combat's a different story, but that's more about... problem-solving.

 

The cowboy snaps her claws.

CORSAIR: Oh, that's somethin'.
CORSAIR: Haven't messed with 'em in ages, but... puzzles. Board games, too. Things like that.
CORSAIR: ...Did more back when I first spawned.
CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...bit of piano.
CORSAIR: Baseball, acting, some... theater... stuff.
CORSAIR: Haven't messed with any of that in years, now.
CORSAIR: ...That enough of an answer?
CORSAIR: Why d'you wanna know so much about me, anyway?

 

...wow....

CROSSBONE: You...you know so many things!
CROSSBONE: I mean, I guess-
CROSSBONE: I guess that'd come with so much time outside of the Store, but- wow!
CROSSBONE: All I have is-

 

shit. making it about myself

CROSSBONE: A-anyway, it's-
CROSSBONE: ...if you're tagging along, I want to know who I'm fighting alongside.
CROSSBONE: In combat and outside of it.
CROSSBONE: ...if that's not an issue.
CORSAIR: ...you callin' me old?
CROSSBONE: I'm calling me young.
CROSSBONE: I've only been out for like, a year and a half.
CROSSBONE: ....
CROSSBONE: Not like age works in a line out here anyway.
CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: I don't know that much, kid.
CORSAIR: How 'bout you talk about yourself, instead?
CORSAIR: Gimme a hint as to why this thing's-

 

She leans the scepter up over her shoulder.

CORSAIR: -locked onto you n' your friends.
CROSSBONE: ...I mean-
CROSSBONE: Would I...know...why?
CORSAIR: Doubt it.
CORSAIR: But more info means more of a chance for me to piece it together.
CROSSBONE: ...mmmm...
CROSSBONE: Only if you promise you won't.
CROSSBONE: Judge.
CROSSBONE: Or anything.
CORSAIR: Cross my heart.
CROSSBONE: ...so...
CROSSBONE: It's my idea to come out here and get cursed.
CROSSBONE: Everyone is...here because of me.
CROSSBONE: ......................

 

You do an anxious, awkward shoulder gesture.

CORSAIR: ...Yeah I figured as much.
CORSAIR: That you wanted that, anyway.
CORSAIR: ...Everyone else just taggin' along?
CROSSBONE: Well, it's not like I could come alone.
CROSSBONE: I don't have magic, and had to learn fighting...
CROSSBONE: I'm- we're all fresh at this.
CROSSBONE: ...except Roulette and Silk Ribbon.

 

Her head tilts ever-so-slightly.

CORSAIR: Huh...
CORSAIR: Wanna elaborate there?
CROSSBONE: ........

 

You realize you may have said too much.

CROSSBONE: WELL
CROSSBONE: THEY'RE JUST
CROSSBONE: They're both!
CROSSBONE: Way better at fighting!
CORSAIR: D'you know why they are, at all?

 

fuck

CROSSBONE: I mean-
CROSSBONE: Who can say!
CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: Those two have history?
CROSSBONE: Not my business.

 

It comes out too fast.

CROSSBONE: ...or. Yours.
CROSSBONE: Not yours either.

 

SHIT




Corsair doesn't respond to that.

CROSSBONE: ....
CROSSBONE: I'm.
CROSSBONE: Not trying to be difficult.
CROSSBONE: I just don't want to say anything that people trusted me with.
CORSAIR: Didn't say you were.
CROSSBONE: Okay!
CROSSBONE: G-good!
CROSSBONE: Yeah!
CROSSBONE: A-anyway.
CROSSBONE: They're...easily the best fighters here.
CROSSBONE: Devo- the.

 

she already knows. it's okay.

CROSSBONE: The bears.
CROSSBONE: They're pretty good too, along with Tim, but-
CROSSBONE: We're all fresh to this.
CROSSBONE: Hell, Ribbon's outright a newbie.
CROSSBONE: By a few months. Tim too.
CORSAIR: Good t' know.
CORSAIR: About the fightin' thing.
CROSSBONE: ...yeah.
CROSSBONE: I...can't help...
CROSSBONE: But wonder if it's the right choice, though.
CROSSBONE: We almost died.
CROSSBONE: Multiple times, even.
CROSSBONE: ....
CROSSBONE: All because of me.
CORSAIR: ...Not really your fault.
CORSAIR: Everyone came out here t' support You doin' this, right?
CORSAIR: Runnin' into a ragmirror wasn't part of the plan, I'd imagine.
CORSAIR: ...Y'all probably are under-prepared, to be blunt.
CORSAIR: But that's not somethin' You did.
CROSSBONE: It was my mission, I-
CROSSBONE: I rushed into it.
CROSSBONE: I was too excited.
CORSAIR: Happens.
CORSAIR: Always gonna happen on your first one, pretty much.
CORSAIR: Can't account for everything, anyway.
CORSAIR: ...Everyone made it alive.
CROSSBONE: But!
CROSSBONE: They almost didn't!
CROSSBONE: A-all because I-

 

She stops, turning to you.

CORSAIR: What's it matter now?
CORSAIR: Even if that was true; you're here now, aren't you?
CORSAIR: What's beatin' yourself up about it gonna do?
CORSAIR: You're gettin' it done, and y'know more for the way back.
CORSAIR: Focus on that.
CROSSBONE: ...
CROSSBONE: ....yeah.
CROSSBONE: sorry
CORSAIR: Don't gotta apologize.

 

Corsair resumes walking.




You rub your elbow before continuing after her.












It's quiet.









Not long after she'd started walking again,


she stops.






Saying nothing.












The woods feel darker, than before;
trees closing in.











There's a distinct chill.










You slow down before stopping in place.

CROSSBONE: C.
CROSSBONE: Corsair, it-
CROSSBONE: It's- a little
CROSSBONE: dark for lunchtime
CROSSBONE: Right?
CORSAIR: Sh.
CORSAIR: Get on guard.



 

She flicks her scepter out, spinning it in her claw to a ready position.



You immediately reach for your hatchet, a low, strained beep escaping you as a distorted giggle echoes.








You are in a circular clearing.

Why hadn't you noticed before?






Why hadn't you noticed it getting dark?



What was-









What a cute backstory!



Corsair takes a deep breath.




Her scepter raises,
glowing with gorgeous hues; like nothing you've ever seen.
Buzzing like neon.


She twirls it gently, in a sweeping motion.



Then, flicks it to the side.




A flash of light emanates from not too far away in the woods.









Something rushes towards them both,
before redirecting to not far in front of them in the clearing.


A



giant, floating white glove
holds a figure up by their collar, floating not far off the ground.


Her eyes open again.

CORSAIR: So that's you, huh?
CORSAIR: I pictured somethin' different.
CORSAIR: Talk.


 

The figure is cloaked, but

clearly toy scale, hands on their hips and visibly annoyed from posture alone.

????: Don't you know it's rude to scruff somebody like that?
????: Figures!

 

A tail lashes under their robe.

????: You just see me as a kitten, don't you?

 

Their tone is mocking, a spiteful mimicry of a petulant child.

????: Ohhh, poor me.
????: Caught by some outsider who doesn't even know what they're dealing with...
????: I'd put me down if I were you.

 

The laughter leaves their voice.

????: You're in my woods, after all.

 

Corsair grimaces.

CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ..."kitten"?
CORSAIR: ...nah, not really.
CORSAIR: But you're not much of a threat to Me, at least.

 

The cowboy tilts her head back to you.

CORSAIR: Here.
CORSAIR: Caught your curse user.
CORSAIR: Careful; bite might be worse than the bark.
CORSAIR: But you got anything to say-

 

The hand deliberately dangles them about.

CORSAIR: -here's your chance.
????: OH YEAH
????: SURE! GO AHEAD

 

They make a loud indignant hiss, tail lashing more and more.

????: """"CURSE"""""
????: """""""""""""""USER""""""""""""""""
????: DO YOU PEOPLE EVEN HEAR YOURSELVES
????: HA!
????: You're eating up that rich, juicy-
????: ~Narrative~
????: Like it's the finest cut of silicone beef!
????: Ohhh, you're SO big and scary.
????: I bet you believe in magic elves that put fresh batteries under your pillows, too!

 

um

????: Good ol' narrative!
????: Lead you right to me, I'm sure!

 

um

CORSAIR: . . .
CORSAIR: ...Uh-huh.

 

She yawns.

[Lilium Mortem]

Dude whatever just. Can you make me a big sexy monster? Pretty please?

[knux400]

"How long were you listening? I'd like to ask you a favor, and the less I have to explain for, like, the fourth time, the better."

[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?

[knux400]

"That depends on a lot of factors, and, to be honest, I'm not completely sure I understand the question, but..."

"...I'd find comfort where I can. I'd rely on my friends, if they're still there. I'd try to make the best of wherever I end up."

...

"...You're not trying to say that's what being cursed is like, is it?"