Oh look, a quest! Round one (now with results!)

[Wichita]

Mmmm, the sigh escaped her lips as she began to wake. A morning stretch, now that was the ticket! She went to extend her limbs, eyes not even open, when she felt something. No, some things all around her. Panicking, she began to struggle, a futile attempt was made to buck and kick. Her mind was desperately instructing her body to free itself from the entrapment in the only way she knew how. Letting out a squeal in response to opening her eyes, she hollered and carried on. “Fiasko! Jason?!”, she called with no answer, sobs raking her body as she lay in the darkness.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Be still, be still,” an unfamiliar voice reached her ears. Trying to calm her and warn her all in the same soft tones. “Wh-what? Who’s there?” the little mare asked, her vocals shaky and uncertain. She could do little to hide the fact that she was afraid, and confused. In response a light illuminated the darkness, Wichita squeezed her eyes shut against the harsh contrast. The beams left colored spots on her vision as she slowly peeked through half closed lids.

In her anxiety she had not noticed the fact that her muzzle had been pressed up against something. Her quick breaths left fog across the surface as she found herself face to face with a mirror. Had she not been physically touching it, she would never have believed in the reflection staring back at her. A soft pastel yellow covered her entirely, he mane made soft swirls around her face and down her left shoulder. Hues of a pale lavender were streaked with bolts of Robins egg blue, the hair was shiny and coarse. The eyes, well the eyes were hers. That is to say the same chocolate brown irises were found painted on the plastic she now was.  Plastic? Why, she was a toy! A tiny,  plastic toy pony. Her limbs were cylinders set on a shortened body, an overly large head sat on her too thin neck. Her eyes were huge and exaggerated, painted lashes thick and curled.  “What’s happened?” the question came out as nothing more than a whisper.

“I don’t know, you’re just here and now we’re awake?” it was a question as well, in the same soft voice she had heard upon waking. Her right side was right up next to a Barbie doll. A sad looking thing, the blonde tresses were uneven and choppy. The front half of its head so short she was nearly bald there. A raised arm tapered off into a nub. Marks from teeth made the amputation ragged, and mangled. The face was half covered by a temporary tattoo, the flower now only three orange petals on one side, the other half was a sticky, dirty mess completely obscuring the left eye, the result of touching the design shortly after application. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too,” she apologized having been under the impression this was all something of her own doing. Her left side bounced as circular birds chattered away, chastising the green pigs that rested in between them. They were in the middle of their own unintelligible, heated debate shoving and warbling nonsense.  The pigs emitted strange squeals and grunts, snorting in their rebuttal. A sticky paste lined several of them, only adding to their disturbance. Wichita herself felt the tug of a cream colored bird, shortly before it pulled itself free from her sunshine barrel. It eyed her a strange bird grin forming on its beak, as she chattered excitedly to her flock.
“What do I do,?I’ve got to get back home,” she inquired turning her attention back to Barbie. The doll blinked, her brows creasing as she seemed to consider the Pony’s question.  “Well, you can’t stay here that’s for sure. She’ll ruin you, she ruins everything.” The dolls reply was sad, and Wichita couldn’t help to feel sorry for her. “Besides,” the doll continued, “too much rolling around in here and you’ll have the whole place in a commotion.” Wichita could sense the worry coming from the plastic ladies voice, the doll swiveled it head taking a good look at their location. The mare would be lying if she didn’t admit it was a bit creepy, like the scene of a horror film. Well, she wasn’t getting anywhere at this rate.  Looking around there wasn’t a whole lot to be seen, the vanity lights filtered into darkness between toy after toy.  She placed her front legs on the mirror, pushing herself up best as she could, which wasn’t but an inch or two in the direction she wished. The movement caused a domino effect, the round bird and piggies went rolling downward, past her back legs. Her left leg, much to her displeasure, was stuck inside an open tub of playdoh. The contents not yet hard from being left out, made a sucking noise as she pulled herself up, a noise similar to that of passing wind. “No don’t…” Barbie protested as she slid under Wichita’s belly, and parts of two new dolls took her place.

A pale gray hand brushed her right flank, tangled purple hair wrapped around the arm that supported it. Looking up, Wichita watched as the dolls ice blue eyes opened, blinking a few times in its confusion. Frosting blue makeup served to adorn the eyes of this doll, eyes that were narrowed as they peered down at the little pony.  A striped grey leg from a second rested near her rump, a yowl emitting from a decidedly female voice box. “Well what have we here?” accused the grey dolly, her question filled with venom.”Purrsephone, turn around here and have a look at the pretty new toy.”  There was a bit of jostling, Barbie complaining as she was prodded, “No, stop. Pony be caref..” her warnings  ended as they turned into muffled calls. She couldn’t turn her head far enough to see what had befell her acquaintance, but she knew it couldn’t be good.

“Don’t worry about her lovely, we just want to play” By the tone the grey doll had used, the little mare did not like the sound of that . Her accomplice was quick to add, ”Oh,yes..You will make Spectra and I the purrrrfect new friend wont you?” Their hands had been elbow deep in what was now an open drawer of the vanity, a vanity that Wichita finally read. “Mon-ster..Hai,” she sounded out the words slowly. Monster? No, no I don’t want to be in here. Her mind raced, and her heart beat increased. She was sure the two could hear it, just waiting to burst through her plastic breast. A glint of silver reflected near the werecat’s hand while the other reached out to forcefully grab a lock of mane. “We’ll make you puuurety just like us. Don’t you want to be purrety?”  the she cat purred out her taunts.  “Oh I think she want’s to play with us,” the teen ghoul laughed, its sound would have left goosebumps on Wichita had she been flesh and blood still. Snnniip the shears cried out as they met each other across the mares lavender mane.  The feline waved it in front of the equine as she struggled to free herself from the grey skinned ghoul, the cat had a broad smile from her deed. The eyes were cold, and cruel despite the shimmer the manufacturer had painted there. “Why, Purrsephone I think she needs a tattoo, us girls love matching tattoos.” Spectra motioned to her legs, ruts lined the plastic flesh, stained with ink. A childs attempt to carve designs into the dolls, had left a smeared homemade tattoo.  A safety pin was pulled from the nearest drawer, the tip blackened with ink. Wichita’s eyes were wide as the frightful fashionista moved her way to her hind quarters, the tub of playdoh removed with one loud thuuuuckkk. That sent the two terrorists into a fit of giggles, Wichita could still feel Barbie struggling beneath her, her yelling was drowned out by whatever had covered her mouth.  

Then, there was pain. Oh, there was pain, the mares eyes rolled as the poker was set against her hip. “No, stop, please, please.” She sobbed, and choked on her pleas. “Honey, were not even done with your flower yet, don’t you want a pretty flower like Purrsephone?” She knew it was a rhetorical question, because she was aware that they did not care what she wanted. She knew this type, their type. They were like her father, taking pleasure in the pain the caused others. No, they did not want to know whether she wanted a pretty flower or not.  There was so much she was too defeated to say, too defeated to do, this was her lot in life. To be hurt, to be at the mercy of others, her time in the Gates had been too good to be true. Her mother had given her life for nothing, for she knew without seeing the outcome of her mother’s interference that day.  Death. 
 
There was so much noise, and movement now, that she almost missed the shriek that emitted from the silver cat. A shriek only cats made when you stepped on their tail. You know the one.  “Rrrroooaaawww!”  Purrsephone cried out, time seeming to have stopped and started all at once.  “You bitch!” she screamed, clutching her tail. Her feline stare was one to kill as she hissed. “Go, go go!” came the triumphant battle cry, her soft voice music to Wichita’s ears waking her from her pity party.  A wiggling substance brushed her ear before jiggling tentacles snaked up to grab Spectra. Its sucker filled limb wrapping around and around the ghouls trunk, trapping her and pinning her arms down. A soft tinkle sounded as the safety pin clattered its way down below. Another and another tentacle wound its way up before the purple body wiggled its way to the top. “You have a naughty mouth,” came the strange gurgling voice of the octopus, before it slapped Purrsephone squarely on the jaw and wrapped her up fast. It gave the mare a friendly wink, as it tightened it’s grip on the two struggling Monster High dolls.  Next to come was the familiar squawking , the hoots and coos of the ball shaped birds.  The off white lump reaching Wichita with a jubilant “Heeeeii!” three marble sized fellows bouncing at her side, all calling out excitedly.

It was like a lightbulb above her head, the kind you see in cartoons, when Wichita finally realized what Barbie had meant by “You’re here and now we are awake.”  A whinny of excitement, as she pushed her plastic legs out, bouncing them off the tops of Angry Birds Barbie was pulling to the top with her good arm. The little egg shaped one bounced happily, nodding as she did so, calling out encouragement in her strange bird language.  A good dozen featherheads bobbed around her now, her yellow neck snaked out ,maw open to grasp Barbie’s hand. “Lets get out of here.” she said to her new friend, who lay across her back, an attempt to shield as much of the magic pony as possible. Instructions erupted from the white bird, as they all pushed and bounced slowly upward , lifting both Barbie and Wichita towards the top.  Toys rolled around them,  Barbie pushed as many as she could away, swatting even with her stub. The ones that couldn’t be deflected with a shove, groaned and muttered as they came to life.  Whispers and shouts as well, filling the toy box as the group moved along, coming ever closer to it’s lid.
 
A whisp of fur brushed her exposed ear “A-loh A-loh,” a busted Furby repeated. One eye shattered, the beak completely gone. Yips, and panting followed the touch of a Puppy Surprise, it’s tail wagging tickling Wichita’s side. Several other toys had come to life, though they didn’t stick around to find out if they were friendly or not, much to the mares relief. Reaching the top, Barbie dismounted the pony’s backside, sliding down gracefully for a toy so disfigured.  “Well,it’s happy trails from here.”  The dolly joked, as they all lined up. A few birds, and Hex bugs they had accidently touched supported Wichita inching her towards the line. “Okay yall, on three,” Wichita instructed as she called to the group,”One,two, three!” She shoved, she shoved with all her might. She could hear the others straining, the thud thud thud as some of the birds tried throwing themselves at the lid. The toys beneath her grunting as the supported her weight each time she pressed against the toy box lid. That was it, it was too heavy, they weren’t going anywhere. Her head hung low, hair tumbling forward. A bare spot where once a lavender lock hung, her hip lightly throbbed, she sniffed. “I’m so sorry, to all of you. This is all my fault.” Eyes closed, as she despaired.

“No, no, we can still get you out.”Barbies voice for once was firm.  The yellow pony looked at her solemnly peering at her as though not even seeing her.  One hand came to rest on her cheek, on the other a nub where once a hand had been. “You can do anything, be brave pony, we can find a way out, “ the once blonde bombshell said to her, lifting her dial up. “We’ll find something to help us, we just need the right toy. You have to get back home remember?”  Home,hooome.  Thoughts of the Gates filled her mind, thoughts of her friends. The gray blue stallion Jason, her lovely new Queen Fiasko, even with scars on her face did she persevere, she saw her painted friend in the marked up face of Barbie. Voudou the tall beautiful one, and Mast the King the one that helped her face her fears, told her it would be okay when the Tundra stallions had visited. Home. She had to go home.  She frantically searched the sea of toys, only seeing parts of them eyes scanning for the answer. Something, something here had to help. “That! There, see it?see it?” she pointed with a cylindrical leg. No surprise the white bird was the first to reach it, bouncing around and calling to the others.  It took most of them, including Barbie,to dig it out and bring it to the Yellow pony. The one who was precariously perched on two run down hex bugs, trying her best to be very, very still. With a single touch, it was done. Mechanical noises, alien noises, noises she couldn’t quiet describe.
 
It shifted, fluidly for a toy made of bits of plastic, it was still surprisingly in good shape and Wichita had her guesses why.  Fenders clicked and moved, tires tucked and rolled until finally what was once a Semi was that no more.
“My name is Optimus Prime,” the robot crowed taking in its surroundings. “Autobots transform!” his words rang, and the toy box rumbled.  Optimus was a Prime, and this she knew.  The Prime had power over the others, and because she had awakened him he had the means to awake the others. Emerging from the depths came Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Ironhide all transforming from their vehicle forms.  “Lets get this baby open!” Bumblebee jumped around excitedly jabbing at the air. “I’ve been waiting months for this,” Ironhides cool tones confirmed. “I can’t wait to get back to Brad’s room, I never thought I’d miss him making me drive the hamster around,” Ratchet rubbed his neck as he confessed. The Autobots easily lifted the lid, and the others lifted Wichita to the ledge. She turned to look at them all, favoring her sore hip, a single line tattoo would serve as souvenir. “Wont you come with me Barbie? Birds?” Her muzzle rubbed against those nearest, in a gentle farewell. Wrapping her arm around a the bouncing blues the doll shook her head in response. “I’ve got others who need me here,” she said hugging them to her, ”someone’s got to look after them.” Broken toys looked at her from all sides, most had gentle smiles. Some looked confused, holding their broken bodies because they just didn't understand. Theyshuffled around some kneeling with others to console them for their losses, others stood alone looking put out and standoffsh.


Wichita nodded that she understood. Sometimes even a disfigured half-face Barbie doll could make a difference, if she believed in herself. Even cowardly yellow ponies weren’t totally worthless, no matter how many times they had let someone hurt them. It only mattered that they got back up, and were brave enough to try. No matter how many times it took to succeed.  She looked over the toy box ledge,  she was out.

Count:2,767  im sorry

[Sinder]

The Desert remains the same. Without chaos, peace reigns and boredom pursues. Sinder is quietly observing with his splotched body matching the dappled sunlight of the oasis. Darkness and light. When he looks up he sees only memories. There's Noori and Kindling, Osric and Smolder. They are all there, playing like a movie when his eyes close. They won't come back; love pushed them all away. As a result, Sinder remains alone. There's a glimmer of magic that dances down the length of his spine. His eyes open, but all he sees is darkness. Blind. (How the fuck?) Yael? Voice for sight? (You don't fucking talk, yet) Shit. The world jerks around him and he's jostled around like a rag doll. At first, he tries to fight it and to escape whatever sheet of black has curtained his eyes but then he resigns with a weary sigh. This isn't his doing. Even when he lies down Sinder is still moving, still tumbling around like a rock down a cliffside. (What the flipping fuck?!) This is sickening. (Who? Where? What is this?!) The world is ending... A sharp breath is forced from his lungs as there is another bump that tosses him into a wall. Then he's out. When he stirs, the world has gone still. Sinder isn't being thrown around anymore but his mind still feels like it is. It feels jumbled and confused as he looks around to see destroyed and maimed toys. He wouldn't be able to see them if it weren't for the sheet of light slanting through from the open slit above. There's a teddy bear with one eye, a stretched out slinky, barbies without heads, and other critters lacking limbs. In confusion Sinder remains entirely still and doesn't even allow to let his mind roam until he glances down at himself. (What in God's name is this bullshit?) I'm colorful. (Ugly. Disgusting. Disgraceful.) Bright. The shock of his color change freezes him, but what reawakens the workings of his mind are the destroyed toys surrounding him. (Get the hell out. Now.) At first, Sinder tries to clamber up the sides but to no avail. It's only when he stumbles onto a raggedy doll that it comes to life and tells him what is going on. Its tangled hair is in patches and one eye is loosely glued on. "You're not getting out, you know. This is life. This is where you belong," it pauses while it crawls forward (Sinder sees that one leg is missing), "You will never leave." He tries to back away but his back squeaks against the wall of the prison. Swerving to the side, he tries to climb up a couple more toys, not entirely realizing what he is doing. A horse-hybrid toy stirs to life after a couple clarifying blinks. "Oh, hey good looking. Why don't you come to daddy?" I'm in Hell. (Get the fuck out, Dammit!) There's no traction with his plastic legs or feet (can they really be called hooves?). There are toys tugging at his tail and trying to yank him down and bury him beneath their weight. No one wants to let him escape; if they have to suffer then so must he. But then there is a voice that just barely beckons his attention. Sinder's girly pink eyes glance to a dark corner where he had previously scrambled. It's the penguin slinky along with a dinosaur. With urgency splitting his mind Sinder tries to dodge and run. "Not every toy deserves to live like this," the slinky whispers, "but please, don't forget about us." without even so much as a name or any other information, the slinky hurls part of her stretched body toward the slightly ajar box top. Her wings bend around the lip of their jail as she tries desperately to hold on. The dinosaur, a random brachiosaurus amidst a crowd of dolls, tilts its head. "Hurry," it mutters as the more vengeful toys start scrambling forward. Misfits, they are. Sinder, without further hesitation, climbs into the back of the dinosaur. "To my head," it adds quickly and Sinder immediately obeys. A couple attempted leaps finally get him there. (Still not tall enough to reach) Shit. Shit. Shit. (They're coming) He doesn't ask them why they condemn him to their lifestyle because before he can even spare them a glance the brachiosaurus rears onto its back legs. It puts Sinder at just a decent enough height to grasp onto the penguin slinky. How, he isn't sure, but with a combined effort he is able to nose his way through the door of the toy chest. With his teal front legs hooked around the edge of the box, he finally looks down to see the conniving toys all hitting and clawing the fallen brachiosaurus. It looks up at him pitifully before closing its eyes and succumbing to the punishment of having helped Sinder. Then he looks at the penguin slinky. "He's dramatic. Toys can't kill toys... It's the little girl you have to watch out for." A tilt of her head directs Sinder to look at the nearby bed and toys scattered around them. "Silent pony, good luck." Sinder, quiet as always, simply nods before scrambling out of the box. There is no way to catch himself and so he falls with a thump that knocks the air out of his lungs. With determination fueling him, Sinder flees to underneath the bed (careful to touch other toys). When he looks up at the toy box he sees the penguin wave a final farewell before her grip of the edge is lost. (What. The. Fuck.) SINDER

[Syl]

She’s about to poke her head into a particularly spooky looking cave, when she feels a faint tugging sensation behind her left nostril.  “Whaa …?”  And then everything goes black.

When she wakes up, she’s surrounded by … things.  Great big shadowy things.  “Ahhh!”  Fear sets in immediately and she springs to her feet, stumbling over something small to her right.  Her eyes peer through the almost darkness, trying desperately to figure out where she is.  But it’s impossible at the moment - it’s just too much new, too soon.

An errant thought pops into her head that strikes her cold.  Had someone figured it out?  Had someone discovered who she’s related to?  Have they kidnapped her to punish her for her family’s crimes?

“Meow?”  All thoughts of discovery instantly flee.  Her eyes peer once again through the gloom.  Her eyes are slowly adjusting, but she’s still having trouble making out the shapes around her.  Then something small and hard brushes against her left hind leg.  “Ahhhhh!”

She flies backwards, bumping into more objects to get away from whatever the hell just touched her.  Something moves in front of her and she raises a hoof, ready to strike.  And then suddenly, the thing comes into focus.  “A cat?”  But it’s the oddest cat she’s ever seen.  It’s two different shades of brown, with fat, stubby little legs, and a massive head that’s pretty much the same size as it’s body (it’s a wonder it’s managing to stand upright).  Giant blue and black eyes blink at her before it utters another plaintive, “meow?”

She stares at it for a moment, dumbfounded, before the shock is replaced by a faint, niggling memory.  She’s seen something like this before.  On the ground outside of a human’s den outside of Beqanna.  A toy.  But that one hadn’t been alive … and it hadn’t had bite marks on its head …

Rustling behind her sends her stumbling forward, and she wheels around, once again ready to fight if need be.  Her eyes have adjusted completely by now, and the objects easily swim into view.  A massive, dirty, pink and white bear looms down on her from above, a little green man and a tiny long-necked dinosaur standing close by its side.

She barely has time to register the scent of strawberries before the bear takes an unsteady step towards her.  The voice that creaks out of its fluffy throat is distinctly southern.  “Why hello there!  Welcome to Nerissa’s toybox!”  Syl’s eyes narrow in confusion.  “Wha …?”  Toybox?  She can’t be in a toybox?  She’s a horse, she wouldn’t fit!  That doesn’t …

As she glances at the floor, she catches a quick glimpse of her right hoof.  It’s green.  

The hell?  She frantically turns her attention to the rest of her body.  It’s purple.  And blue.  And plastic.  “What the hell is going on?!  Why am I plastic?!”  The bear looks at her quizzically.  “I’m not a toy!  I’m a real horse!”  There’s a tone of desperation in her voice.  This has to be a dream, right?  This HAS to be a dream.

“Not another one.”  The bear is turning away, shaking its head.  “You deal with it Vinessa.”  A doll suddenly appears out of the darkness, staring at Syl through heavily made-up eyes.  Syl is disturbed to notice that she’s missing an arm.  “He doesn’t have the time or patience to deal with crazy toys like you!  Get out of here!”  Syl doesn’t need to be told twice.  She turns away from the retreating toys and stumbles on through the low light, finally starting to notice the toys that are crammed together all about.

She’s really in a toybox.  Somehow, she’s been turned into a toy.  “This better be a dream.”  Her eyes (now blue, though she doesn’t know it), scan for a way out.  She is NOT going to stick around in here.  As she moves, she bumps into more toys, each and every one of them stirring at her touch.  She shies away from all of them … until she bumps into the wrong toy.  

She stumbles over the leg of a strange wolf, hidden in the shadow of a hole-filled stuffed rabbit.  It twitches for a moment.  Then it’s on her.  She screams as the plastic teeth sink latch on to her leg, though, being made of the same material, nothing actually breaks her skin (something that, in her terror, she fails to notice).  “Help me!  Someone help me!”  She’s going to die.  She’s going to die here, in this strange toybox, surrounded by strange toys that want her gone.  “Help me!”  But no one’s coming.  She doesn’t belong here - they aren’t going to help her.  

“Oh Jacob, leave her alone.”  Suddenly the wolf is ripped off her, and sent flying through the darkness.  A kindly green face peers down at her.  “You alright?”  Syl gapes.  It’s a turtle.  A turtle on two legs, with crayon scribblings all over his body.  “Hi, I’m Raph.  You ok?”  The multicoloured mare takes a step back.  “I … yeah.  I’m ok.”  Bright green eyes peer in even closer.  “You don’t belong here, do you?”

Syl can’t believe the feeling of relief that overwhelms her at hearing those words.  Someone knows.  Someone believes.  “No, I don’t!  I need to get out of here!”  The turtle grins.  “Why don’t my brothers and I give you a hand?”  Three more turtles step out of the darkness.  Syl remains silent, not really sure what to say.  She feels like she’s gone crazy.

“Hey, Dusty, come ‘ere!”  One of the turtles gestures, and a big orange and white plane trundles forward.  The same turtle (wearing a blue thing over his eyes) speaks again.  “All right guys, we’ll open the lid, and Dusty, you fly ‘er out!”  Syl has no idea what’s going on, but the turtles don’t give her time to speak or even think.  One of the turtles plops her on the back of the plane, then all four of them disappear.  The plane revs and, with a running start, launches itself into the air.  

If she had thought that she’d been afraid before, she’d been wrong.  Now she’s afraid.  No.  She’s terrified.  Horses … are not meant to fly.  She does her best to cling to the back of the plane as it wobbles awkwardly through the air, and tries desperately not to scream.  She thinks the plane is trying to help.  She doesn’t want to offend it.

They fly higher and higher, and after some time, a flat ceiling finally swims into view.  The lid.  Still closed.  The fly closer and closer, and Syl’s fear finally bubbles over.  “WE’RE GOING TO CRASH!!!!”  But, at the last moment, a crack in front of them appears.  As they slip out into the light, she hears a faint, “cowabunga!  Good luck!”  And then she’s free.

[Yronwood]

He wakes slowly, and every tiny motion of his stirring body feels different, weird, wrong.  Yronwood opens his eyes, and now the entire *world* is wrong.  He finds himself lying in some kind of huge box, barely able to see anything in the dim light present within said huge box.  Definitely *not* the Jungle kingdom he'd been in since birth.  After Roe manages to get over the shock of seeing the sudden dye-job he'd gotten and the other changes to his body, he notices that he is surrounded by many other creatures, lying motionless in the shadows.  None of them appear to be Ephrelle, the other Amazon females he had come to know, or even Dorne, and the colt feels even more like a fish out of water as he realizes he is completely alone, no friends, no family, here.  He sits there, at a loss, for several more minutes, before cautiously touching his newly plastic to the closest figure, a fluffy brown dog-thing which had a ripped ear and several patches of fur missing.  It comes alive with a sudden panicky growl,  looking straight at him, and Roe hastily attempts to back away from its display of aggression.

In doing so, he manages to trip over backwards over another of what he belatedly realizes are toys--was that what he was now too??--and ends up back on the floor of the toy box, seeing stars for a bit.  The formerly-spotted boy expects to feel the dog trying to bite one of his bright red limbs, and indeed it does make the attempt.  Fortunately for him, its floppy mouth is toothless, and all it manages to do before giving up with a whine of annoyance is mouth his right foreleg without causing so much as a scratch to the plastic surface.  The toy he'd managed to trip over is now partially under him, and it pushes itself free as it also comes to life.  He stammers out an apology as he lifts his silver-and-green maned head to look at it.  This second toy is one of those eternally-grinning cymbal-monkeys that people tend to find rather creepy, albeit this one seems to have fared better in life so far than the fluffy dog has, for he sees no immediately visible signs of damage to its fur and blue shirt.  It does, however, seem rather irritated with him for falling on top of it.  Its eyes narrow at him, and the cymbal-hands clang together, issuing a jarring chime that makes Roe wish that his sense of hearing had been affected by his transformation.

"Excuse you, are you not capable of watching where you're going?  " But after listening to him repeat his apology for a second time, the monkey seems to calm down, lowering its paws and rocking from side to side on its feet as if calming itself.  "I guess you can call me Monkey.  Not very original I'm sure, but it's what the monster girl who takes us out of here to toss around for awhile seems to call me.  What's your name, and how did you get here?  Not intentionally, I hope.  Most of us that are stuck in here aren't in such good shape, and you look the sort that's going to be played with a lot.  I'm lucky so far in that she doesn't seem to like playing with me much, so I usually get passed over.  " Yronwood sits back on his haunches, taking in all this sudden info, before realizing that Monkey is still waiting for a reply.  "Oh, uh, I'm Yronwood, Roe for short.  And I have no idea how I got here, or why.  "  He looks upward briefly, noticing that what light they do have is definitely coming from there, a small hole located at one end of the box lid.  "You've been out of this box then?  What's out there?  " "The simian toy wrinkles its nose.  "Outside of here is her room.  Not a place you want to get out into, unless you're crazy.  At least in here, there's places to hide.  Out there, well.....toys are at her mercy.  "  Roe listens intently, feeling more and more uneasy as he does so.  

He appreciates Monkey's warnings, but he can't bring himself to heed them.  "I need to get out of here, I need to get back home.  My sister needs me.  Maybe if I can get out into her room, whoever she is and if she is as dangerous as you say, I can find a way from there back to Beqanna, my home.  Is there any way that you think you could help me get out of here, please?  I'm willing to take my chances out there.  "  The cymbal-monkey shakes its head slowly at first, clearly thinking him insane, but eventually sighs and agrees.  It looks up towards the roof of the box, judging the distance, and Yronwood follows its gaze.  "Nope.  Not going to work.  Go and find something for me to get up on, something with some height to it.  And preferably something that won't object to being stood upon, heh.  "  Obediently,  the tiny plastic horse trots off, being very careful to avoid stepping on or brushing against anything else.  Spotting the stuffed dog still lurking nearby, eying him grumpily, was just a further reminder not to agitate the locals further.  It's harder than he would like to pull off in the semi-darkness, and it's not until he is nearly upon them (and with having barely avoided a close encounter with a large green plastic T-rex that is missing one of its stubby arms!) that he at last spies something that might work.  He pushes them back to the waiting Monkey one at a time, a set of wooden building blocks that he is told have not been played with for many years by the girl. 

He tries, but is unable to grip some of the blocks to place them upon the others to form a platform with his mouth, but Monkey is able to instruct him how to make quick "grab and drops"  by using his front feet to grip, followed by a fast rearing motion directly in front of the blocks' base level, then pushing the second layer fully into position with his nose.  The brown-furred toy insists that he leave one block uncovered as a sort of stepladder, and then waddles its way up onto the second level.  He is then instructed to help lay Monkey on its side, so that it can attempt to give him a boost upwards with one of its cymbals.  Just standing on it and being lifted doesn't seem to get him all the way up to the toy box's lid, so they decide to try another tactic.  He moves off to the edge of the block-platform, then rushes towards the simian as fast as his unfamiliar feet can manage.  Leaping up into the air, he lands upon the cymbol, trying to use it as a springboard. He is pushed upwards higher by his own momentum and Monkey's upward shove.  Yronwood manages somehow to have his front feet be ahead of him as he hits the edge of the lid, and the twin projectiles manage to lift the top.  Just enough for the colt to find himself stuck between it and the lower edge.  An area even bigger than the private world of the toy box greets his eyes, and he lets himself hang them for a moment as he surveys it, all four legs dangling rather comically.  He is afraid to angle himself enough to get his head back inside to call out a thank you, lest he topple back down inside it, but he hopes that the frantic swishing of his green-striped tail will convey his gratitude to the cymbal-monkey left below in the pale light.  Grunting and wriggling vigorously, Roe eventually free-falls to the carpet waiting below, landing with a further grunt.  The wind is knocked out of him, and he lies there for several moments, breathing deeply until he regains it. Climbing to his plastic feet, he stands there, feeling incredibly small.  Now, how to find a way back to Beqanna from here?  Despite his hope, he has no real idea of what his next move should be.

[munroe]

THEN I'LL GO OUT BACK AND I'LL GET MY GUN I'LL SAY "YOU HAVEN'T MET ME, I AM THE ONLY SON." Bleary hazel eyes try to focus on the utter darkness that seems to engulf the wild child. He desperately tried to remember just what had happened, but his memory was coming up as a distinct fogginess that could not be pierced no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to panic but he could not afford the luxury at the time. First the wild child must gather himself and try to figure out just what was going on. He begins to struggle once he realizes that a piece of cloth is completely smothering him and he finally manages to scoot his way out from under such a stifling piece of heavy fabric. The wild child gains his feet and he cannot help but feel that his body feels completely stiff and out-of-place. As he ponders the giant red and white checkered frilly ting of dress that had covered him up, slight whimpering disturbs his thoughts, and he has just enough time to see a plastic german shepherd dog, who sported many scuffmarks, go streaking out from under the dress and into the faint shadows of the unknown territory. He had startled at the sudden noise and brushed up against a bright red box of some sort. This was a very strange experience for the wild child. Perhaps even worse than when he had been lost in that freak sandstorm. Now he didn’t even have the desert to comfort his confused heart. His eyes were adjusting the shafts of light that seemed to filter through a small crack in the sky. There were so many indistinguishable shapes and outlines in the faint light that the wild child remained fairly bewildered the longer he stood there. But he was anything but a coward and so he begins his fairly hesitant journey through this unfamiliar world. Even with the fair amount of light he did receive, he still managed to stumble over what appeared to be a ginormous shoe with a leg attached to it. He begins to raise unbelieving eyes higher and higher until they reach the top and it was a sight he could do without out. It was a giant American Girl doll who sported raggedly shorn hair, a demented smile, and was completely missing one eye (a gaping hole in its place). She began to lean down with a delighted gasp and an eagerly grasping hand, all the while screaming, “Horsie! Rissa wants horsie! HORSIE COME BACK RIGHT NOW!!!” But the wild child knew when to fight his battles and he had started sprinting the opposite direction as soon as she had started the screaming. Booming footsteps and the sounds of crunches (from the careless way she flung the other toys out of her way) pounded after him until he happened to see an open front door of a quaint little dollhouse which he immediately dashed through with a slide that did not stop until the he had passed both the foyer, living room, and dining room. All the while Miss Nessa herself kept trying to futilely jam her chubby fist through the front doorway while shrieking a tantrum heard a mile away. He really wished Ima was here to guide him in this strange and scary world. He wanders into the little black and white tiled kitchen and then exits through the back door; he wanted to distance himself as quickly as he possibly could before the hulking giant of a girl could discover his escape hatch. But now he found himself in the middle of what he supposed was a dinosaur tea party? There was a triceratops with delicate pink bows tied around his horns and a stegosaurus which carefully poured a steaming hot pot of tea into a tiny teacup which was held by a ferocious-looking tyrannosaurus rex who even though he possessed only two fingers on his hand still managed to pull off the posh one finger in the air while you sip your tea move. Dinosaurs in frilly dresses and bonnets – he thought he’d never imagine a more peculiar sight in the world. They finally seem to acknowledge him with vicious reptilian growls and insults such as “Get outta here pipsqueak! Only the strongest have earned this privilege! We are Nerissa’s pride and joy. Learn your place! Be gone, nuisance!” They then emitted smug growls and self-praising words when the wild child was easily coaxed into leaving the tea party far far away behind him. His hazel eyes catch sight of a welcome appearance this time. It is an elegantly tall wooden figurine of a horse like himself. Perhaps this person could shed some light on the situation! He eagerly bounds up the well-worn figure, brushes his muzzle in greeting to the other’s chest, and expectantly waits. But after long moments of silence, he is disappointed to see that no life seems to be left in this toy. There are ragged scratches and marks etched into his mahogany hide and one of his ears seems to have been broken off at some point in time. His eyes are forever left hauntingly vacant and the wild child shivers in cold revulsion for this one’s end in life. A faint and desperate whisper reaches his ears and he looks to his left to find a very curious device lying on the floor. It is egg-shaped, had Japanese characters written across the top (was that Tamagotchi?), and a hot pink color, but what really caught his attention was the funny little squiggly-looking creature looking at him with such desperate eyes. “Please send help. I’m been living in filth for months and I can’t even remember the last time I’ve eaten something. I need food and medicinal supplies asap. Please. Alert the authorities if you can!” The wild child nods solemnly at this creature’s desperate plea for help and he moves on from the scene of the dead and the dying with a heavy heart. He is dismayed to find himself back to his starting point once again and the wild child leans disheartened up against the red box from earlier. But this time the box begins to rattle and shake with a strange little tune accompanying it and all of a sudden something pops out of the box laughing hysterically. “Pop goes the weasel!!” The wild child honestly wonders how much more of these ridiculous toys he can take. But the clown creature seems to sober up relatively quickly and he introduces himself as Jack-in-the-box but Jack for short. “I’ve been watching you flounder about the bottom of the toy box and I think I’ve got a plan to help you out, kid.” The young horse looks hopefully up at Jack and adds his two cents in. “Crack in sky? Can reach?” Jack obediently looks upwards and taps a thoughtful finger beneath his chin before a mischievous grin begins to spread across his face. “By golly, kid, I think you’re right! Let’s get down to business then.” It took one or two scouting trips but the wild child thinks he finally found a flaw in the slippery ninety degree angle walls. It seems that there was a penknife very deeply stuck into the side of the wall and placed extremely close to the already gaping lid thanks in part to a temper tantrum and a resulting broken latch (hence why there is filtering light into the chest to begin with). According to Jack, the penknife was stolen out of dear Nerissa’s father’s library and was supposed to nail poor ole Nessie to the chest wall but luckily, or unluckily, the sleeves of Nessie’s dress had ripped and she had fallen into the blackhole that taken residence inside the toy box and she hasn’t been located in the six months since the incident; Nessie was considered missing in action. After making that discovery, the two schemers had then developed a plan. Jack had thrown an obnoxiously yellow yo-yo over the penknife, creating a sort of pulley system. While Jack held the string of the unweighted side in his hands, the wild child had climbed onto the yo-yo and then tried to hold on as best he could all the while holding a doll-sized silver spoon in his mouth. Jack had admitted to long ago pilfering this spoon out of Rissa’s shining silverware dining set add-on because he just couldn’t stand the American Girl bully. Slowly but steadily Jack began to pull the string downwards which in turn lifted the wild child ever closer to the firm surface of the overhanging penknife. After what seemed an agonizing five minutes, he had successfully became level with the penknife. He very carefully tightened his grip on the spoon and then shakily shifted his balance and weight onto the top of the blade’s handle. Hazel eyes glance down the check that Jack was ready in spring mode with a lego brick in hand. They both nodded in agreement and the wild child reared up onto his hind legs, resting his forelegs upon the wall in front of him, and began to lever the silver spoon inbetween the box lid and wall. As soon as he managed to get at least two inches worth of space, Jack launched into the air and meticulously place the lego brick in the space to act as a sort of wedge for the wild child to inch his way through the opened space. He woops triumphantly and immediately grants Jack with his heartfelt thanks. Now he returns his gaze to the suddenly blaring light and the world outside of the toy box. MUNROE -- and now I am sure my heart can never be still

[Speck]

It tastes sweet. She thinks when her tongue licks what she believes to be the ground. Her eyes are held shut. Speck although awake still feels the lengthy hung over sense of sleepiness. She allows her tongue to fall from her mouth again, and she takes another taste. Her lips smack against themselves when her tongue retreats, and she moans softly in the sugariness that is the flavor that hits her taste buds. Atop a multitude of colorful “grass” lies the young filly looking far different than she did only a few hours before. Her eyes begin to open and as she does so her legs are kicked in front of her and she stretches with all her might. It takes just a moment for Speck to recognize that her hooves and legs are not what they used to be. ”Wha…” She mumbles as she flexes her hoof in front of her face. She brings the appendage to her mouth and places it between her teeth. It tastes funny. Quickly Speck kicks her foot from her mouth and lines her teeth with her tongue. A moment passes as she focuses on the aftertaste, and a descriptive word finally comes to her. Plastic! She tastes like plastic! Speck glides her cheek against the “grass” that she had been lying on. She notes that it does not feel like grass but rather like fur, and as she lies in her growing confusion the grass-fur begins to move. It rises and falls almost unnoticeable to the young filly. Speck thinks for a moment that it may be best to just close her eyes and attempt to wake herself from this dream, but the sweet smell of the fur-belly hits her nostrils. She decides to indulge a bit more. Speck adjusts her body so that she is lying on her stomach and her legs are outstretched in a star formation. She then dives her nose into the belly and begins to gnaw on the sugary strands that make it up. ”Ouch! Who is doing that?” the belly rumbles and the voice, deep and ominous, force Speck to look up from her sweet snack. The first thing that she sees is wide black, beady eyes staring down at her. Speck’s eyes then wander to the side of her and she sees large circular paw made up of the exact texture of her current ground. ”Um..hello?” She squeaks. The belly begins to rumble again and she feels her body bounce upward as her entire world shifts. ”Are you new?” It speaks. ”New?” She stammers. ”Yes…are you new? I mean you must be.” It laughs causing Speck to bounce even more. She struggles to hold onto her spot while staring blankly at the large purple face of what seems to be a stuffed bear. ”Your not covered in anything yet..and you have all your hair. You must be new.” It pauses and quietly speaks again. ”Poor thing” Speck’s eyes grow big. She then manages to stand up. Her hooves feel funny and hollow so when she takes a few steps forward she stumbles. The bear seems supportive in her effort and places one of his large paws under her to help her up. The bear shifts once more, and Speck reaches it’s chin. ”What are you” ”A stuffed animal- Haven’t you ever seen one before? You must have just gotten out of the box. Well welcome to the wretched world of being an owned toy.” ”Owned…t-toy? But I’m a horse.” ”That you are. Nerissa will be thrilled. Although If I were you- I’d try to get the hell out of here before she spots you.” Speck takes a moment to further examine the bear and take in his words. It all seemed so silly and confusing. It also felt like a game, and Speck had always enjoyed games. The tiny filly pushes herself forward into the furry head of the bear and takes another whiff of his sweet smells. ”So I win if I escape here?” ”Er…win? Well your life will be better.” The bear manages a reply. ”K, Cool. So how do I get out of this place.” Speck says in between chews. ”You taste so good…” She tags on. The bear shakes its head and points its stuffed paw toward the sky. A tiny beam of light comes through a small break in what Speck believes to be the clouds. ”Go through there.” the bear instructs before he lowers his head and begins to doze off once more. ”Mister…” Speck says as she picks up her head, stops her munching, and presses her hoof into the bears neck. ”Mister!”. The bear’s belly begins to rise and fall again. Speck sighs to herself and looks upward toward the beam of light. She presses her lips outward as she begins to think to herself. So apparently to win the game she would have to reach the sky. It seemed like an impossible task, but Speck was quite optimistic and believed that every game had a way to the finish line. Her eyes darted sideways and the world around her began to illuminate. Instead of mountains of rock and dirt there were mountains of plastic. Everything smelled overwhelming tasty. Perhaps she could catch a few more tastes of the sugar as she made her way toward the beam of light. Off to the left of the sleeping bear sat what appeared to be a clump of straw. Out of the clump of straw stuck a large, circular, red translucent treat with a white stick attached to it. Speck skipped across the bear’s leg and instantly stuck her tongue to the red circle. The sugar hit her taste buds and sent pleasure radiating through her body. She began to frantically lick at what she now knew to be a sucker. ”Excuse you. You’re messing up my hair.”, the voice came from beneath the straw which was actually hair. The sucker shifted backward as the head turned upward to look at Speck. Its face was humanoid with colored on eyelashes and lipstick. Speck giggled to herself, it looked so funny. ”Oh sorry, I didn’t realize”, Speck said in between fits of laughter. ”It is not funny.” The face exclaimed. The toys surrounding the face begin to shift and move as the plastic hands that had been buried rose out of the plastic mountain. The face soon turned into a face with a torso and then into a face with a body. It rose above the toys, and rose to stand over speck. The Barbie doll was distressed in appearance. The once clean and new red dress had been torn and repaired with candy and glue. Atop her blonde, shaggy hair still stuck the sucker that had allured Speck to the doll in the first place. ”You little, stupid pony..how dare you disturb my rest!” The high pitched valley girl voice did not seem intimidating, but Speck could still feel the rage. ”S-s-sorry!” Speck stumbled over her words as she watched the tall doll illuminate in anger. ”You better be.” It’s painted on smile couldn’t change, but the tone in her voice did and it grew deep. Suddenly the bony, plastic arms outstretched, and its hands clamped onto Speck’s lime green striped mane. The doll pulled on her hair and Speck screeched. She flung her legs forward and managed to pull herself away. The game had turned serious. Speck rotated her body and ran in the opposite direction. The Barbie began to follow Speck while screaming in rage. Speck’s hooves hit another Barbie doll with a gummy bear stuck to her face. It awakens and begins to take its cues from the other doll. Speck didn’t even bother to look back at what was chasing after her she simply decides to climb. She climbs and she climbs. With each step another toy springs to life. Each toy that is sprung to life sends her flying forward for as they begin to stand up her hooves press off their lifting body. She climbs frantically toward the beam of light. Once the beam of light seemed to be within leaping distance a storm of Barbie dolls were now climbing after her. They all seemed to be coated in their own form of candy treats. One had a twizzler swung around her waste like a belt. Another had chocolate flowing down an entire half of her body. It took a lot of fear in Speck to keep her from briefly swinging around and engorging herself in the sugary mess. A tug here and a tug there kept Speck focused as she climbed. The beam of light soon shined in her face and she swung her entire body forward into the crack. Her face slammed against the wooden box and she squeezed herself through the tiny crevice. Her small legs kicked and her front legs scratched until she managed her freedom. speck tiny daughter of brennen and bother

[erling]

erling.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but then –
When he awakens, he is lying on his side, looking straight into the eyes (or, rather, eye – where the other had gone was a question Erling was not sure he wanted answered) of a rather large bear. Interesting. He hadn’t experienced this while dozing in the meadow before. This is an odd dream, he thinks as he begins to wiggle and stretch his unusually stiff legs, before hearing muffled cries of “ouch!” and “excuse you, asshole!” and the one he was most accustomed to: “wait, why am I gray?”
“Sorry about that,” he calls back to them, whoever they are, rolling to his other side, falling a short ways to the floor before awkwardly attempting to stand up, “that’s my fault. I don’t know why that – hey!” As he finally manages to get his footing, he realizes he is no longer the dull shade of gray he was born with; instead, he is a bright shade of pink. And he was unusually shiny. At least now he knew this really was a dream.
Looking up, he finds three things standing before him, staring directly at him: a rough-looking grayscale cowgirl, missing her hat and most of her hair, which had been crudely chopped off; a stiffened, gray snake whose tail rattled seemingly at random; and a large, plush, gray-and-white cow. “Well HI!” Erling says excitedly, despite the obvious look of discontent on their faces.
“I guess you’re the new toy,” the cowgirl says finally.
“No, sorry. I’m not a toy,” He replies cheerfully, turning his attention to the large cow, looking it over. They stare at each other for a moment in silence, before the cow lets out a loud, sudden MOOOOOOO, startling Erling. “WELL HELLO TO YOU TOO!” He responds brightly before turning back to the cowgirl. “So, what am I supposed to do in this dream? Get out of here? That doesn’t seem too – ”
“This isn’t a dream, dear,” the snake interrupts, boredly, her tail rattling. “And you don’t decide when to leave. She decides for you.”
“She? What, her?” Erling asks, motioning toward the cowgirl.
“No, dumbass, Her. Nerissa.” The cowgirl responds, rolling her eyes as though it were obvious. The cow lets out another loud MOOOOOO, and Erling grins at it excitedly. “GOOD COW!” He yells back at it, and the cowgirl sighs, her annoyance apparent to everyone but Erling.
“Okay, we really need to get you out of here. Mertise, can you help?” The cowgirl asks, turning to the snake.
“No,” she responds simply, her tail rattling with emphasis.
“Well that is not very nice,” Erling says, shaking his head. “But don’t worry, I can do it myself!” He turns, facing the rest of the sleeping pile of toys – a pegasus, a few Barbies, the large, one-eyed bear, and a few other miscellaneous things.
“You cannot,” The snake hisses behind him.
Erling takes off at a run, getting a few strides in before he jumps up, landing (and falling) on top of a pile of lego pieces. As he scrambles to get up, he hears a thud, and turns around to see the cowgirl landing behind him. “Well HI!” He exclaims, and she rolls her eyes, undoubtedly regretting her decision to help him.
“Okay, we need a game plan if we’re getting you out of here without messing up your beautiful hair,” she says, grinning, poking fun at him.
“THANKS! But I think I’m alright. Bye!” Erling says before setting off, jumping from toy to toy gleefully without much disturbance (other than his turning them all gray), hardly noticing the cowgirl following closely behind him. He gathers himself and jumps once more, landing on the back of the one-eyed bear, who immediately springs to life, flailing upwards, almost throwing Erling off his back. The large bear growls, angered by Erling’s disturbance, and thrashes about, trying to see what was clinging to him. Erling tries to climb up his back, hoisting himself up with every movement of the bear.
Erling finally gets himself halfway up the bear’s shoulder – he is so close to the top – if only he could get it open –
The bear swings his arm blindly, hitting Erling, who slips back. It’s a good thing you always wake up before you die, he thinks, closing his eyes and accepting his fate.
“Come on! Nerissa Almighty!” What an odd expression, he thinks, opening his eyes to see the cowgirl standing on the flailing bear’s shoulder as though it were a bucking bronco she was used to riding every day. She reaches out her arms, grabbing a hold of his two front hooves, pulling him up.
The bear is growing tired, but still more agitated – his full-body spasms have slowed, but he still flails his arms wildly, determined to catch whatever it was that awakened him. One of the bear’s arms swings too high, hitting the top of one of the sides of the box, and the top flies open. “Look! If we can get to the top of the bear’s head, I think you can jump out!” The cowgirl yells at Erling. She begins to climb up the side of the bear’s head – it is easier for her, of course – and sticks out an arm to help Erling. He reaches the top – the bear’s movements have slowed to a stop now as he is discouraged, unmotivated –
“She decides,” He hears the snake hiss from beneath him as he gathers his footing.
“MOOOOOOO!” He hears as he jumps –
“Thank Nerissa he’s gone.” He hears as he reaches the edge and jumps down from the box.
He is free.

[Malis]

She was still falling into the yawning darkness of the toy-box when a sense of utter wrongness woke her. A second later she hit the ground with a hollow thud, bouncing a few times until finally coming to rest beside a large colorful hunched lump of fabric and hair and string. For a moment she froze, expecting broken bones and torn skin, for the air to have been sucked violently from her lungs as her chest was crushed in the impact. But nothing happened. For a long time, nothing happened. Struggling to get her legs beneath her, she rose, and then pitched forward immediately, unbalanced. Everything was where it should be, and yet everything felt wrong, unfamiliar. Looking down at her legs, she found a beautiful albeit unrecognizable blue stretched across soft, flexible plastic. Plastic? She had never heard the word before and yet she knew what it was, knew it had replaced her skin. She stumbled backwards in the dark, though the shock never made it to the forced stillness of her cartoonish face. Something clattered behind her, but she paid it no attention because the heap of cloth and color suddenly sat up and faced her with its painted on smiling face. It was too much, she thought fleetingly as the fragmented voice stretched out to her in the mostly dark.

“Well! Goooood morning to you too, little one!” The voice seemed impossibly cheerful, perhaps muted a little by the cloth fabric of its face. “I’m Buttons the clown, think you could help me with this string?” Still struggling through resurgences of shock and incredulity, Malis peered through the dark at the large stuffed creature. Puppet. Again the word came unbidden, bringing with it a general understanding of a puppets purpose. When she looked closer yet, she noticed the puppet strings had become an impossible tangle, binding one leg at a gruesome angle behind him, and the other leg to the arm on the same side. The last limb, his right arm, sat in his lap while he wiggled and fidgeted and then finally tipped himself over. She gasped, she hadn’t meant to, but the large toy seemed even larger now sprawled across the floor in a lonely corner of the toy chest. He flopped there a moment before his oddly large eyes turned to her and waited with patient expectation.

She scrambled, slipping on plastic feet across the dusty wood flooring, stepping close enough to put her plastic mouth on the strings and pull as hard as she could. But all that happened was Buttons right arm twitching and then falling sideways across his tipped over chest. “I can’t break the string.” She apologized, surprised by the note of concern coloring her tone. His right hand twitched and lifted as far as the string would allow, and she turned her gaze to where he was pointing. There in the corner lay a heap of pale stone- no, not stone, porcelain. Even from here she could see a few pieces whose edges glinted like jagged blades. “Oh!” She hurried over, already keeping her balance better despite the too smooth edges of her feet and the elephantine thickness of her plastic limbs. She leaned over the pile, flinching as she made sense of the demolished porcelain graveyard. At one point in its life, this had been a beautiful ballerina perched gracefully atop a spinning music box. Now, well loved or loathed, it was impossible to know for sure, all that remained were small piles of chipped and broken pieces, slivers and painted dust. A shudder ran up the length of a spine that no longer seemed to exist beneath a ridiculously luxurious mass of gold and fuchsia mane. Grabbing carefully in her mouth a sharp piece near the edge of the pile, Malis returned to Buttons and dropped it right beside him. “Now what, I don’t have hands like you.”

There was a tap on her withers and she spun quickly, a squeal dying on her lips as she turned to find yet another humanoid creature smiling back at her. “I think I can help with that!” Before Malis could even respond, the doll had grabbed the makeshift porcelain blade and began sawing away the string. She did the best she could to help the doll and the clown, putting tension on the string while Molly, as she would later introduce herself, dragged the edge back and forth, back and forth. When the last string had fallen away and Buttons was finally free, Malis found herself scurrying backwards yet again to give him room to stand. The area they were in was remarkably small so it was unsurprising when Malis knocked into yet another dark object toppled in the shadows. The surprise came when the previously immobile hunk of falling plastic landed with an audible ‘oof’ and then struggled immediately to its feet. “What in the h-“ Malis ground out between gritted teeth, interrupted almost immediately by the clown who had moved close enough to stand beside her. “I think it’s time to stop waking up all the strangers, little one! You won’t find much trouble here in the drawer of broken toys, but it’s a whole different story in The Other Side.” And for the first time Malis imagined that painted face darkened with an expression she was in no rush to understand.

“What do you mean I have to stop waking them up,” she argued defensively, stamping a forefoot impatiently to hide her bubbling nerves, “it was probably the racket of cutting you free that woke them up!” Malis could feel herself bristling even though both the clown and the doll were watching her with smiling impassive faces. Then the new toy pulled itself from out of the shadows and she felt her brow furrowing over eyes narrowed suspiciously- though she couldn’t actually be certain her face had moved at all. It was so impossible to tell.

The third toy was a horse. It was a faded sparkly gold and purple, with a blonde mane so tightly curled that it frizzed unnaturally in several places. The tail was missing, leaving only a strange empty hole where it should have sat. It’s feet were even more strange though. They were made of an almost clear pink plastic, also sparkly, and lit up as the horse approached the trio. A strange tune bled from the horse’s belly, a happy song at one point, now dull and choppy as the batteries died. As they horse came to stand next to the doll, with the clown on its other side, Malis could merely look on gaping. What the heck kind of nightmare was this? She opened her mouth again to speak but Molly beat her to it. “We can’t just wake up! We’re toys! But yoooou seem to be magic.” It was clear by her face that Malis didn’t understand. “We didn’t wake up until you touched us.” Molly added. When still Malis looked doubtful, the doll disappeared for a second only to return with a small orange plastic cat from one of the closer toy mounds. She shook the toy, poked it, dropped it, yelled, but nothing happened. Then she gestured for Malis to touch it. Cautiously, curiously, Malis stretched out her nose to brush it against the cool, smooth orange plastic. As if waking from a nap, the cat stretched luxuriously, yawned, gave everyone a look of utter contempt, and then walked away back into the shadows.

“Oh.” Was all Malis could say as she watched the retreating form of the orange cat. Self-consciously she looked around, now actively trying to make sure she wouldn’t brush against any other toys. “I have to get out of here.” She announced suddenly. The trio of toys looked surprised, and the horse, who appeared to be mute, began slowly shaking its head. “Sorry little one, there isn’t a way out of here.” The clown said, a trace of understanding coloring his tone. “If we had the blocks over here I could probably build a small platform and lift you out, but it would be a very bad idea to bring your magic self over to the Other Side.” Seeing the look of confusion on her face, he continued. “In this room there are many toy boxes. In this specific toy box, there are two parts. This side is where she leaves the broken, old, or unwanted toys. We’re generally a nice bunch, but there are some exceptions. But the toys on the other side of this partition are the unfriendlies. They’re the villains in every game we’ve ever played.” One hand still leaned on the partition that she now realized separated on group of toys from the next. “There is a lid to this box, but it’s in two pieces. One part over our side, one over theirs. She keeps our side latched though because she has no reason to take us out anymore. So the only way out is over this partition and past the unfriendlies.”

Without waiting to give someone a chance to stop her, she found a hole in the partition and wedged herself through. Immediately Buttons face appeared in the hole, his clownish smile tipped upside down with a frown. But before he could stop her, she had stepped carefully away from the hole. “I can’t stay here, I don’t belong here.” And with that she told him her whole story. Her family, her world, the life that was waiting for her. She could see his face changing as she opened her worries to him, until finally his face disappeared from the hole. His hands appeared at the top of the partition as he pulled himself over to stand beside her. “Molly and Sparkle want nothing to do with this, but you helped free me so I will return the favor.” He pledged solemnly. Somehow this side of the box was a little better lit, and she realized suddenly it was because the lid wasn’t pulled so tight here, she could see a crack of light edged all around the top. Looking closer at her new friend, she began to understand what it meant to be a throw-away toy. His red curly hair had been cut in uneven tufts, his face colored on with crayon. There were rips in his clothes, his skin really, where tufts of white fuzz peeked out.

“So what’s the plan.” She asked, her voice tight and uncertain as she peered around at the heaps of toys he had referred to as villains. “See all the blocks in the far corner?” He asked and she nodded because she did. “If I can get you there, you can get the lid propped open so you can climb out.” It seemed like a relatively easy, straightforward plan. It became immediately evident that in the time it would take small Malis to weave around the piles, Buttons could climb over and through them without any fallout. So the pair split up and Buttons went to work immediately on building the staircase platform for Malis. In the meantime, she wove carefully around the piles, noticing things like gaping mouths full of sharp teeth and taloned claws on strangely small arms. None of it meant anything to her, but she knew she didn’t like the looks of those sharp teeth. Only once did her foot accidentally step on a toy, a thing plastic membrane that turned out to be one part of a pair of large wings and the creature shrieked and disappeared into the air and shadow. She shuddered, hurrying forward just a bit more carefully now. There was a sudden cheer and she looked to the corner to see that Buttons had finished the platform, close enough to the edge that she could use her nose to push the lid open. If he would just carry her back over, she could safely get out without waking any more of his so-called villains.

But even as she opened her mouth to tell him this, the great winged creature from earlier shrieked right beside her ear and knocked her into the pile of toys beside her. As she scrambled to the feet, the toys were still scattering and rising, testing limbs and gnashing sharp plastic teeth. She heard Buttons yell for her as she darted between toys, no longer being as careful not to brush anything. It seemed it was already too late to make this situation worse. Her tail snagged on something suddenly, and she glanced back to see it wedged firmly between the jaws of some prehistoric beast. Suddenly Buttons appeared out of nowhere, knocking the dinosaur aside so that Malis could complete her last dash to the pile of block. She climbed it in a rush of plastic adrenaline, leaping from surface to surface until the light yawned in the opening near her eye. Freedom! But a particularly gruesome roar dragged her shining eyes back to the melee below, her eyes finding Buttons wrestling several raptors amidst a floor now spotted with stuffing. There were several new tears in the fabric of his clothing. Horrified she turned to run back down the blocks to help her new friend, but he saw the notion swimming in her eyes and froze her with a shout. “Don’t you dare, little one! I’ve kept my promise.” He grunted, still managing to smile at her as he battled the dinosaurs. “It has been a pleasure, little-one. Thank you for one last grand adventure!” He managed to tear his arm free of a mouthful of long teeth, saluting Malis with one last smile as he disappeared beneath the chaos of enraged, shining plastic.

Unable to watch as stuffing settled like snow, she turned and pushed the edge of the lid with her nose, stunned as the chaos below fell silent with the thump thump thump of falling, inanimate plastic.

MALIS

makai x oksana

i'm sorry if there are errors or inconsistencies , i ran out of time with early fathers day stuff today! <3

[Grumblesnakes]

Okay. You guys are fantastic. I'm going to need a day or two to wade through these awesome posts and determine the results. Round two will be up on Monday, so enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Monday night, that is.

[Grumblesnakes]

Good job, everyone!  Just a heads-up, because it didn’t occur to me that with the change to the forum this wouldn’t be a given based on board settings: from here on out, assume no editing once your post is made.  I obviously won’t penalize anyone who edited so far, as I didn’t state it before.  But from here on out, once you hit post, your entry is in and should not be edited.  Thanks!  Okay, on to results!  For the record, this was way harder than I expected it to be.  You are all fantastic, and I appreciate your participation.  I had a lot of fun reading your posts, and I am so excited to see what you guys come up with for round 2!  Unfortunately, I have to eliminate a few of you if this quest is ever going to end.  

• Erebor – His voice, oh my god, I’m dying! Prin is the best, and I love Teddy.  I want to squish him and cuddle him and sic him on all my enemies.  Super creative solution, very engaging, and fun characters.  You’re through to the next round!
  
• Smother – Those trolls were creepy. Just saying. XD Some grammar errors, which was a little distracting.  But an interesting solution!  And I like that you really get into Smother’s head and show us what she’s thinking.  I like the idea of using a ton of different toys, but the trouble with that is it doesn’t give you room to develop depth with those interactions, and it turns the background into a bit of a blur.  It’s minor, but in the end it came down to minor things.  I’m sorry, the quest ends here for you.  Grumblesnakes will drop you back off where he found you, whole and intact and much more colorful than before.  This color will fade over the next BQ year back to your original color, all except for a jewel mark on your belly like the creepy trolls had.
  
• Shannisoran – The horde of Barbies was disturbing.  Good job. > Clever solutions, nice mislead, and I like the mangled rampaging princess.  You’re through to the next round!
  
• Engelsfors – Some grammar issues, switching back and forth with tenses a bit, that sort of thing.  And please be careful to follow directions closely.  That said, I really like the way she struggled with the unfamiliar shape of her body early on.  Nice job getting some light in the dark toybox.  I loved the use of the army guys!  I like the atmosphere you gave the toybox. Very creative, good job with that.  Here’s the thing.  Referencing Nerissa was totally fine.  Great for adding tension, shaping the mood of the post, building the world.  If you’d left it at the ominous sounds, the shaking of the box as in response to her vague actions that you couldn’t really see, that would have been okay.  But actually bringing her in was taking a bit too much liberty with her.  I’m sorry, the quest ends here for you.  Grumblesnakes will drop you back off where he found you, whole and intact and much more colorful than before.  This color will fade over the next BQ year back to your original color, all except for an army man on your ribcage, just like the ones that helped you survive the Toybox.
  
• Sleaze – Can I just say, you are good at creepy, haunting, disturbing. Horror is kind of your wheelhouse, huh? Oh my god I love Pennywise.  That was just.  Fantastic.  Yes, you took a few more liberties with Nerissa than I might have wanted for the sake of plot, but it was pretty minor, all took the shape of background information, and frankly it was fantastic. I can’t wait to see what you do with the next round.  Because you’re going to be writing in it.
  
• Dagny – Awesome disorientation, love the added drama that this is her first time being separate from her twin.  There is something both sweet and fascinating about her innocence.  Very nice work. You’re on to the next round!
  
• Shaytan – Aaaaahhhahaha, a Furby! I love it! Couple of minor grammar things (tense switching, lapsing into first person for a moment, that sort of thing) but overall this post was very creative, very engaging, fun to read. And I love that you made her encounter a giant bunny. XD Nice work! You’re on to the next round!
  
• Ephrelle – Okay, so that was adorable. I thoroughly enjoyed the post, and the characters, and just all of it.  Great job.  Great writing.  Welcome to round 2!
  
• Wichita – Don’t apologize. That was wonderful. You did a great job bringing in a variety of toys, really using the environment, and you told the story of your round one in a way that made me want to keep reading.  Good work! You’re on to round 2!
  
• Sinder – Okay, so a quick note. Please be careful to follow directions carefully.  Sinder was asleep from the moment he was taken in the Deserts until he was inside the toybox (by itself, not a huge deal), and also you were supposed to stop when you got the lid open.  That said, his reaction to his color change was fantastic.  The toy that hit on him was amusing. XD I liked the creepy raggedy doll, and the toys trying to keep him there.  I really enjoyed your writing!  Ultimately though, I would have liked to see more development of the characters you introduced, and more careful following of directions.  I’m sorry, the quest ends here for you.  Grumblesnakes will drop you back off where he found you, whole and intact and much more colorful than before.  This color will fade over the next BQ year back to your original color, all except for a penguin on your shoulder, so you can never forget the slinky who helped you, just like she asked.
  
• Syl – Ahahaha, yes! Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!  Excellent choice.  I like her reactions, her panic and confusion.  This post was fun, good work.  You’re on to the next round!
  
• Yronwood – He’s very sweet and innocent.  It was a nice post. Good use of the environment, good solution. Nice work! You went a little past where I told you to stop, but given the end of your post it was pretty logical and not too big of an error.  You’re on to the next round.
  
• Munroe – Quick note: you switched tense back and forth a lot, sometimes mid-sentence.  That said, it was an engaging and entertaining read, and I like what you came up with for a solution. Good work. Be careful about the tense switching, okay? You’re through to the next round!
  
• Speck – So, you switch tense back and forth some.  Just something to be aware of.  If you read through the other results, you’ll see you’re not the only one.  Other than that, though, it was fun to read.  Speck is adorable, and I like her optimism.  Good job.  You’re through to the next round!  Watch the tense switching next time, though!
  
• Erling – I love Erling.  I lost count of how many times I thought that to myself while reading the post. He’s fun and ridiculous and just the cutest thing.  Good post, creative and hilarious. You’re through to round 2!
  
• Malis – Um. Will you write me a story?  That was beautiful.  I loved it.  You’re through to the next round.
  
• Fraktyr and Storybook – Because you didn’t respond, you have been eliminated. Your color is back to normal, and you have been given the following defect: Living Plastic – you are made of plastic, but with the ability to move normally.  You have no sense of touch aside from the most basic ability to feel pressure (bumping into something, the ground beneath you, that sort of thing); you cannot, however, feel pain, temperature, someone touching you, the wind in your hair…just the basics needed for survival.
  

Round two will be coming very shortly.  I just have to write it up.  But I figured since I finished this part, I’d end the suspense.  Thank you all so much for participating.  And to those who were eliminated, I’m sorry that I had to make cuts.  Unfortunately, it’s the nature of the beast.  Better luck on your next adventure!