<-PREVIOUS
(TW: Graphic description of needles and implications of suicide. It made me uncomfortable!! Also!!! Thank you so so much to @zedleaked for giving me permission to reference a certain fusion of theirs😋!!!!)
(Headcanons in this story: Mouthpiece has intrusive thoughts; Brian has insectoid features; one more that I’m not mentioning here because it’s spoilers)
Mouthpiece looked over at Leaf sleeping peacefully on the couch.
Her eyes wandered down to the plate of chocolate chip cookies she held with mitts over her bluish grey hands. She nodded, placing the tray of cookies on top of the oven and switching it off. “You must’ve had a rougher journey here than you let on, poor sproutling.” Mouthpiece knelt down, wrapping her arms around Leaf and scooping her off the couch. “You could’ve asked me if I had a bed you could use,” She teased, brushing a strand of pale green hair away from her pale face. “The cookies will be there for you in the morning.”
As she walked down the stairs into a surprisingly cozy basement with cream colored carpet, Mouthpiece turned the corner, and opened one of the doors down a hallway, revealing a room. One decorated with dinosaurs. Dinosaur toys littered the ground. Ah, guess he had forgotten to pick up before he left back to his parents. “This was Cassie’s old room before she moved to a different room. This room is Preston’s now.” Mouthpiece talked to Leaf.
Mouthpiece pulled away the covers on the dinosaur bed and laid Leaf down, tucking her in. She approached a dinosaur themed lamp upon a green wardrobe and clicked it on. When Mouthpiece shut off the light, the room was not dropped into darkness, but instead, the lamp decorated the black room with green outlines of dinosaurs. She smiled and left the room of her dinosaur obsessed grandchild. She hoped he went on to pursue the idea of dinosaurs. Maybe he could discover something incredible about them in the future.
Once back in the kitchen, Mouthpiece pulled out her rolodex of numbers to contact. Most of the cards had been white, only a few being a different color. Finally, she found a slightly different white card decorated with purple and pink strings patterned with a piece of music. Mezzo Melodyland Toon Resistance marked the card in toony but fancy lettering. She didn’t get this from one of the toons running the headquarters, goodness no, she actually found it on the ground, dropped by some poor toon who accidentally ran into her, scattering papers from their shtickerbook and dropping more than one gag on the pink streets in the process of jumping back to the playground. Mouthpiece never got to return this card back to that toon. She hadn’t meant to startle the poor thing.
Her phone went to the dial tone. Goodness, perhaps it was too late…
“You have contacted Mezzo Melodyland’s Toon Resistance, what’s the prob?” ‘Prob? How completely unprofessional. It’s no wonder why C.O.G.S have come so far when they talk like that,’ Mouthpiece’s thoughts whispered angrily but she took a breath to settle her nerves. “Excuse me?” Mouthpiece’s robotic voice ran through the phone attached to her head, “May I speak to Tango please?”
Panic rang back through the phone. Mouthpiece yanked her head away from her own phone as cacophony exploded on the other side. Alarms, yelling and eventually Mouthpiece being hung up on entirely with a sudden beeeeeep. Her head turned back to the basement door where her guest slept. She let out a sigh. She needed to bring her back. As much as Mouthpiece wanted to keep Leaf, her real guardian was probably worried sick. Her real guardian was irresponsible to somehow lose track of a child as loud and talkative as Leaf. Belle should keep her.
Shut up thoughts.
Mouthpiece dialed the number on the card again.
You could’ve told Mouthpiece that the cogs fully invaded the playgrounds and, she doesn't know, greening everyone but, the concept of this amount of psychosis over her simply asking to see one of their operatives was beyond her. She could hear people screaming and objects crashing. She cleared her speaker, and spoke gently, “I have a toon-” ‘Don’t phrase it like that! You’ll make them panic worse! Do you want them to think you’ve kidnapped a toon!?’ “H-Here. At my place. Sleeping peacefully, E-Emphasis on peacefully,” She corrected. “And I was hoping I could enter the playground. To, pardon, could everyone please stop yelling? I mean no harm.” Mouthpiece covered the end of her phone so she could let out a loud sigh. This was annoying. She didn’t hate toons as much as her fellow managers did, but this was still irritating. The panic came to a slow end. Finally.
“This is Belle Dama…” None of those poor toons will recognize that name. “Er, The Mouthpiece. From the Lawbots. I have a toon here at my place, sleeping in my grandchild’s bed, peacefully, and I was asking if I could enter the playground long enough to give her back to you. Two of my fellow cogs plucked her off the street because they confused her with Bigg- The Trophy Hunter. I would like to return her.”
The first voice she heard respond was from Tango, the exact person she was looking to contact. “We can’t trust that you don’t want to trudge in here with cogs behind you.” And then they hung up on her again! Mouthpiece couldn’t stop a loud huff from coming out of her speakers. No use in calling again. She turned the volume of her angry thoughts down so not even she could hear them. Even so, she could hear them bubbling loudly under the surface, like sealing a crack in a dam with cheap, plastic tape.
Perhaps she could try the other headquarters…
~~~
Mouthpiece crossed Toontown Central’s Headquarters off her mental list.
If she hadn’t gotten hung up on, she had gotten yelled at and threatened and what not instead! What a complete overreaction! She had a very sweet toon sleeping peacefully in one of her grandkid’s rooms, NOT being brutally tortured for information and begging for freedom, thank you very much, Will Lusion! And Mouthpiece couldn’t just keep her, can she? Not a good look for a lawbot, technically assisting in a kidnapping and taking a toon that had no part in the Toon Resistance. No thanks, she’d rather not have that on her record.
She…could try contacting her fellow lawbot managers and seeing if any of them were available to get Leaf back to the central…
So, Mouthpiece went through her rolodex once again, plucking each related number from the spiral and setting them down on the counter, placing the rolodex beside it and starting what would end up not being just one call. Mostly clean except for one that had some clear warping from rain.
~~~
Mouthpiece put her phone down on her head, slamming it just a bit this time.
“Belle. Why do you have a toon at your house? AT your house! We shouldn’t be trying to make friends with toons. And on the topic, I will not be helping get them back to their mommy and daddy, maybe next time they’ll think next time before wandering out at night. I have a gas leak at the house I need to fix anyways.”
“You’ve been letting it LEAK this entire time!? Cog dang it! I got repairs to get to!!”
“What’s the problem? As long as I don’t go inside the place, it’ll be fine.”
“Sorry Belle! I would but I’ve got an appointment in 5 minutes that I have to get too!” Mouthpiece fidgeted with her suit, skeptical, “At this hour…?” Her eyes wandered to the clock on the kitchen wall that read 11:59pm. Her voice dripped with uneasy trust.
“YEP! Sorry! Ask Kidd.”
“At this hour?” Mouthpiece restated.
“I’m a very busy body, Belle!” Courtney also restated. She passed the phone to Kilo.
“I just said repairs!! The stupid cogs behind my suit insisted they gave me more durability but it did NOTHING!!” Kilo ranted, continuing to rant, “I can’t just deliver some random TOON to the playground!! Not without the others! Never without the others! I’d be dismantled!! I ALSO NOW HAVE TO STOP MUNDIE FROM BLOWING HIMSELF UP WITH HIS DANG GAS LEAK!!”
"I mean, sure, if a toon goes in there, they’re screwed but we’re cogs, we don’t need to breathe.”
“IT’S STILL DANGEROUS!!” He passed the phone to Barry, not letting Mouthpiece even ask her question.
And Barry had court cases to sort through.
So Mouthpiece crossed them off her mental list and moved on.
She put the card to contact the Litigation Team back inside the rolodex and picked up the next card. Prester. Mouthpiece would…rather not contact him. If he even picked up the phone. Oftentimes someone had to sneak into the Stone and Iron District and climb up the tower in order to even notify the cog of a meeting. And even often-er times, he’d be trying to rile up a mob and nearly sic them on the poor cog who went up there to tell him. He seemed to have a magic talent for summoning cogs from behind him to flood off the side of the tower like a dang buffalo jump. ‘He’s also a massive jerk. A belligerent, angry jerk.’
Mouthpiece always felt a little bit bad for the cog who had to tell him anything.
The phone would ring but there was no response. Not on the second or third or fourth attempts either. Fifth? Still nothing. Not even a peep from Prester. ‘Probably riling cogs up. Again.’ Mouthpiece put the card into the rolodex again, considering tossing it in the trash beside the counter for just a moment. One card left on the counter. Misty Monsoon’s number.
The phone rang quietly throughout the house.
And Mouthpiece was left with disappointment again.
“Go…into the playground? Belle…it’s good that you’re trying to help a toon. It is! You know how much I’ve wanted to be friends with…t-toons. It’s just…I don’t think I’d even get past the lighthouse. Bessie has me…sort of…trapped on this pier. Says that I wanted to be around toons, then I stay on this pier, being fought. Constantly. She has toons on the look out for me if I try to land anywhere else in the Offshoring and Drilling District. I swear she keeps that lighthouse on all the time just for me…” Misty kept the phone close to her. “I’m sorry, Belle, I want to help but until Mary gets that cease and desist through, I can’t leave. I don’t want another piano on my head…”
So, that’s all of her fellow Lawbot managers unavailable…
Mouthpiece flipped through her rolodex, starting to scatter the cards at her feet and mess up numbers as her worry for Leaf grew. By now, Mouthpiece had moved to the plushy, cornflower blue couch in the basement. She made an effort to keep this place just as cozy as the rest of her house.
No one at the Boardbots was available, no one at the Bossbots wanted to poke the bees nest, Cashbots was…interesting…
“BELLE!!! I know ecthactly who you’re talking about!! The’th Leaf, ithn’t the? I talked to her earlier! I PLAYED with her earlier! I beat her in a game of Toono!!” Mouthpiece could tell Buck was bouncing on the other end of the phone. The two didn’t talk too often. “And the’th at your plathe? Did you get her to try your cookieth??” Mouthpiece chuckled. The tune-up…had messed up his sanity and voice just a bit but overall, he was still…himself, it made Mouthpiece glad to see him mostly recover from it.
“No, she fell asleep the moment we arrived at my house. Poor girl. She’s in Cassie’s old room right now, where Preston stays now when my children bring him over. Don’t worry, I plan to give her them before she leaves.” Mouthpiece took a moment to properly word her question.
And the answer?
“Oh, I, uh, I can get her to Thentral Oil Dithrict no problemoth, Belle! The playground ith…a different anthwer…” Duck Shuffler shuffled. “I don’t know any wayth in! Not me! Nope! And if they thee me ffffly in with Leaf, they’d probably attack me!! No thankth! Thorry!! Maybe that new hire can help you??” Mouthpiece hung up on Duck Shuffler, muttering a goodbye. She didn’t have Operator’s number yet, and last she had heard of him, he doesn’t like making calls anyway. Hurt his head. Judging even more from their last interaction, he wouldn’t dare enter any of the playgrounds regardless, horrified by even the mere IDEA of confronting any toons!
Time to try the Sellbots.
~~~
Bellringer was a no, in the middle of a late night fight supposedly. Pacesetter was also busy with something, a date actually (he was not happy about Mouthpiece interrupting). Multislacker was an obvious no but he said he’d talk to his dad about it. Unlikely. No point in waiting for him. As Mouthpiece attempted to sort the cards into numbers she had contacted and numbers she had not, one slipped onto the floor.
It was tinted purple, with overly formal writing on it. It was a number marked under Toontown Central instead of Central Oil District. There was no name on it, but if she had the number, high chances it was the number of a cog. Had she missed someone in her lists? Unless she accidentally stole this one too.
Mouthpiece cautiously dialed the number, rereading the card repeatedly to find any clues about whose number this was. No dice.
Ring…ring…
As the phone rang, Mouthpiece worried she was all out of options and would have to try to escort Leaf to the central herself. If no one picked up, she would have no choice but to either keep the kid and label her as another one of her grandchildren or she’d have to get badly hurt trying to get Leaf there and risk Leaf receiving the same treatment.
“Hello? Who is this?”
Mouthpiece stood straight instantly, collecting her cards and placing them back inside the rolodex. She tried not to spill them everywhere a second time. “Hello, this is Belle Dama,” Mouthpiece hoped the confidence in her tone would be enough to hide her lack of it.
“Belle? What is a lawbot such as yourself doing by calling me at this hour?” Mouthpiece could ask the same question of why he was awake at this hour to answer said call but she instead jumped straight to the point.
“I had a question. Firstly, there are rumors that you, at least I believe, if I’m calling the right person, that you are currently inside one of the toons’ playgrounds? Do I have the correct person?” Mouthpiece’s foot tapped anxiously.
“Why yes! It is true,” The cog boasted, “I am currently here, fixing up some more of those toons’ poor excuses of cogs. I keep stealing them when they aren’t paying attention. It’s almost comedic to watch them try to figure out why they keep disappearing and then reappearing ‘going off script’. It was quite unimpressive how terrible their security was and still is! I’ve been here for approximately 5 months and not a single dimwitted toon has tried to enter the basement or has figured out that I’m even down here!”
“That’s good. If it would be okay with you, I need you for something, I’ve tried calling everyone but they’re all busy with something else,” Mouthpiece lowered her voice the closer to the Leaf’s door she got. The cog on the other side immediately lit up.
“You need me for something? I knew my intellectual prowess would be needed! So ask away, Belle, what do you need of me? Lesson’s over for now, jockeys, I have far more important matters concerning me. Shoo! Shoo!” There was a minor mumble about repairs but they were cut short by the cog refusing to reply.
“Do you have a way to get back inside the playground should you leave?” Mouthpiece cracked open the door to Leaf’s room, checking on her guest. Still asleep.
“You insult me! Of course I have a way back in. Do you really think I wouldn’t’ve thought ahead and considered needing to take trips outside of the playground? I can’t just stay down here all the time. I still have a life outside of Cogs.Inc, Mouthpiece.”
“Good. Now the actual reason why I’m calling you.” Mouthpiece took a careful breath, sitting down on the cozy, cornflower blue couch once again. Here’s where her convincing skills would have to come in handy. She was a lawbot, convincing one cog should be easy. “I have this…”
Here it goes.
“Toon. In my basement. Asleep. She got pulled into a meeting because Ben and Jerry confused her for…” Mouthpiece thought over her words, the situation she pulled Leaf out of was still so ridiculous to her, “Biggson Gayme Hunter. Trophy Hunter. The newest hire for the cashbots.” The kind of cog everyone hated, including fellow cogs. The kind of cog who thought he was hot stuff as secretaries he tried to impress threw up in their mouths a little. “I was hoping you could meet me on Alto Avenue and bring her back to the Central Oil District. She’s awfully young for a toon to by herself. Told me herself that her parents disowned her. She's too young to be a part of the Toon Resistance, and therefore, is not a danger to Cogs.Inc, and has no right being held by us.”
The excitement dropped from the cog’s voice immediately. “Suddenly, it’s occurring to me how everyone was suddenly busy.” He let out a sigh, “And you said you already called everyone else with this proposition?” Pause. “How do I know this isn’t a trap, Belle?” His voice suddenly dripped with suspicion.
“None of the toons know or even bother to call us by our names. If I were a toon trying to trick you, I’d introduce myself as the Mouthpiece. Please, I can’t hold onto this toon forever, as sweet as she is, she most likely has a guardian, and they’re probably worried sick about her.” Mouthpiece thought for an extra moment, “I can give you a tray of my cookies if that’ll help convince you…?”
There was a horribly long pause in the conversation. Had she been successful? Probably not. The cog was correct, everyone was busy, not because of meetings and appointments and fights, but because they simply didn’t want to help a toon. Who would! They constantly get in the way of their jobs and stop them at every opportunity and blow up hundreds of the lower ranking cogs every day! No, hour. Possibly minute.
“No. That wouldn’t convince me. I’m far smarter than to fall for a simple bribing attempt.” There it was, the final person she had on the list also saying no, why did she even bother to ask anyone? No cog in their right mind would ever want to help a toon! They’re ridiculous, loud and rarely ever nice.
“I just don’t understand why you care about a…toon. Yes, a younger toon, but still a toon. This isn’t…” The cog wasn’t done speaking. He hadn’t hung up? “…Fine. Make sure you bring a blind fold. I don’t want this toon to see how I get in and have been getting in and out.”
Mouthpiece sat up. The answer wasn’t a no.
“I’m only doing this out of my own, ridiculous curiosity. Which I shouldn’t be. However, it’s a child and you’ve brought up a good point that a child has no business in the Toon Resistance and what Cogs.Inc does. I can be at Alto Avenue in 30. Be there.” There was another pause. “…And I’ll, admittedly, take some cookies, please…”
Mouthpiece nodded, “Of course. Of course. Th-Thank you!” She had intended to go tomorrow. She should correct the cog and say tomorrow but after everyone declined her task, she took the chance she was given. The cog on the other side hung up, letting Mouthpiece follow suit, dropping her phone back on top of her head. Her head looked over to Preston’s room. She had still been asleep. How many calls did she make? Hopefully Leaf had enough time to sleep. Mouthpiece checked the broken clock on the- oh, wait, no, that clock is broken. Mouthpiece checked her internal clock. 1:55am. Yeesh…she made more calls than she had realized. What was she still doing awake?
She got up from the couch and opened the door to Preston’s room.
Leaf slept with the blanket held tightly between her hands, using it less as something to keep her warm, and more like a companion. Her brow was furrowed. Like she was afraid, in desperate need of comfort like this. Mouthpiece almost didn’t want to wake up Leaf. She needed her sleep after all of this, but on the other hand, she needed to go back to the Central Oil District where she’d be safe. It’s safer there than in the Brass and Shipping District. Far stronger cogs were here and if they confused her for an old enough toon, especially a certain deer-like cog who could possibly be in a terrible mood after losing his horn in a combat, even angrier to see a toon be confused for his utter excellence, Leaf was as good as dead.
Mouthpiece clutched her chest, hand squeezing her emblem at the thought of this. Illegal, yes, but by the time the case was processed (possibly processed by Mouthpiece herself!), and Biggs was fired, Leaf would be long gone. Just a splatter of ink left behind on the pavement.
That visual was even less pleasant than the vague threat of Leaf dying in general.
“Leaf?” Mouthpiece gently placed her hand on her honorary grandkid’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. A shaky whimper slipped out of Leaf, “n-no…i don’t want to- to wake up yet…i don’t want to go back home…” Mouthpiece kept shaking her, sitting on the bed. She rubbed her hand on Leaf’s back.
“Leaf…it’s me, Belle, you’re safe,” Mouthpiece wished for just a moment that Bellringer had been here, his healing bell ability tended to only help with cogs but perhaps this once he could make an exception. Leaf started to stir finally, slowly sitting up. Mouthpiece removed her hand from Leaf. When she looked at Leaf’s tired face, she saw tears running down her pale, reddening cheeks. Her poor, hurting face. It made Mouthpiece want to call up the cog again and call off ever getting rid of her.
Mouthpiece caught Leaf in her arms. She clung onto Belle, sobbing into her blue suit. She was murmuring something but she couldn’t make it out, not even after turning up her audio processors to max. Except for one thing.
“I like you…you listen…I like the hearts around you…I wish I knew why they were blue…” Mouthpiece hadn’t the slightest clue what that meant. She pulled Leaf up onto her lap, embracing the crying child. She wished she understood what happened to her.
Don’t get distracted, Belle.
“I’m taking you back to Alto Avenue, I got someone who will be able to take you back to the Central Oil District. You’re always welcome back here, Leaf.” Leaf didn’t look up.
“even if…if i mess up…?”
“Mess up how?”
Leaf’s hand hovered over her chest, she didn’t finish her question.
“That’s ridiculous, of course you’re still allowed here. I will accept you no matter what you are. Cog, Toon, some undiscovered species, you’re still welcome here.”
“I wish my parents were like you…”
Mouthpiece brushed her hand gently over Leaf’s green hair and stood up slowly, giving Leaf enough time to stand up as well. “Let’s get going now, Leaf. Your guardian is worried sick about where you went.”
~~~
The streets were empty, dark too by the time Leaf and Belle arrived at the meet-up point, a random building named Tom-Tom’s drums. Leaf wouldn’t mind making some noise right now, maybe it would make this street less scary and awful. Mouthpiece looked down at her hand, she had been grasping a blindfold. Was she planning something? She wouldn’t hurt Leaf, right…? Don’t think like that, there is no point for Mouthpiece to harm her. Leaf can trust Mouthpiece.
“It’s cold…” Leaf hugged her arms around herself. Mouthpiece placed a hand on her back again, keeping her eyes transfixed on the dark tunnel ahead of her. She kept her light pointed at the ground but she would occasionally lift it up and around when Leaf urged her to, insisting she saw something horrifying in the dark. Perhaps Mouthpiece didn’t have a brain.
LEAF-
LEAF MEANS THAT IN THE WAY OF NOT HAVING A BRAIN THAT CAN PLAY TRICKS ON MOUTHPIECE!! WHICH IS A GOOD THING!! LEAF WOULD NEVER CALL MOUTHPIECE DUMB!!
“There are no monsters in Toontown, Leaf…” Mouthpiece’s voice snapped Leaf out of her panicked trance trying to convince itself that she had not been calling Mouthpiece stupid. “I know,” She started cautiously, “B-But- you never know for sure…”
A crrkrrcrrk echoed from the tunnel in front of the two. Leaf squealed, ducking behind Mouthpiece. From the dark tunnel before them, a strange cog emerged from the tunnel. Mouthpiece’s expression twisted. She was confused. Obviously Leaf had never seen this kind of cog before but she hadn’t seen ANY kind of cogs before. Mouthpiece however. She looked just as confused as Leaf was. Had she never seen this kind of cog before either?
What was Mouthpiece handing Leaf over to for safety?
Leaf had reemerged from behind Mouthpiece, not much more than before, just watching the cog.
It looked like it was made of craft supplies, at least its head, and not at all like it belonged to the voice over the phone. Unless there was another wave of new hires that Mouthpiece had somehow not noticed. It had an emblem but its department wasn’t marked on it, just glowing green like in the middle of a fight.
Then there was another, sneaking out of the tunnel in the kind of cartoony fashion one would expect from a toon. You know the kind of sneaking. Ironic considering every step these strange cogs made was accompanied by a loud cranking noise that sounded like Mouthpiece trying to call someone immediately after a battle with some toons.
“A toon would be quieter than you jockeys. How hard is it to not click and crank with every movement?” Grumbled a voice from the tunnel, finally emerging just behind the two cogs, the two acting almost like guards for the smaller cog. Adjusting his purple suit, the cog emerged from the tunnel fully.
He was smaller than Mouthpiece by a large margin, his head just barely reaching Mouthpiece’s shoulders. He wore professional black shoes (then again, so did most cogs), paired with deep purple plaid pants and suit. His emblem was of a graph. A sellbot. Mouthpiece HAD been forgetting someone from her mental list. Oopsy daisy…
His faceplate lacked a mouth and nose, having a bolt to look like a nose instead. Speaking of his face actually, it looked loose, turning this way and that smoothly without actually tilting his head. And now the part of his appearance that made Leaf squirm, holding onto Mouthpiece tighter and refusing to let go. The cog’s brain, held in a glass dome to avoid damage.
Leaf hid behind Mouthpiece once again.
He looked at the so-called jockeys at his sides, blinking a few times. The jockeys stepped away from him. “Belle,” He adjusted himself in a way that was uncannily living-like. Leaf squirmed again, every red flag in her head was screaming. “So you weren’t lying. That’s good. I had expected a trap of sorts.” He adjusted his tie, fidgeting with it before forcefully putting his hand at his side. Mouthpiece gently tugged Leaf to the front, keeping her hands gently on her tense shoulders.
“Leaf…” Mouthpiece started, glancing at the cog before her, “This is Brian, Prethinker, he’s not going to hurt you. He’s here to help you back to the Central Oil District.” Leaf’s expression didn’t change, pressing into Mouthpiece, her hands up at her chest if she needed to fight.
Prethinker bent down to get a closer look at Leaf’s features. Her pale skin, light green, short hair, weirdly tall height unlike most toons. Almost as tall as him (so he had no reason to bend down ironically). He gestured to her as he asked, standing straight, “Did you…shave it or something? That’s not a toon. If anything, hoping this doesn’t come across wrong, it looks like a perfect, weird blend between a toon and a cog, Bel-”
“WHY IS YOUR BRAIN EXPOSED TO THE WORLD!?” Leaf shouted, shoving herself against Mouthpiece, threatening to push her over as she pointed accusingly at Prethinker. Fear shot through Mouthpiece, even Leaf could feel it, she was certain Prethinker could feel it too! She held onto Leaf, horrified.
“Leaf- that’s not–” Mouthpiece scrambled to apologize to Prethinker who glanced at one of the strange cogs. “I am not going with him!” Leaf insisted, shooting behind Mouthpiece, glaring at Prethinker. “He looks like he’s going to run experiments on me!” Prethinker’s eyes flicked back to look at Leaf. She shook her head, muttering faint no’s under her breath. “I’m so sorry, Brian, she wasn’t like this before-”
“Funny, that might be true, never seen anything like you before.” Prethinker had a bit of a smile in his eyes that dropped with Mouthpiece glared at him. “I mean- I said nothing,” He averted eye contact with Mouthpiece. He fidgeted with his tie and stepped forward, standing over the still only-slightly-smaller-than-him Leaf. His foot tapped in a definitely-not-just-impatient way with short and long slides mixed in with taps. Mouthpiece put the blindfold away.
“Calm down creature, I will not hurt you.” He placed his hand out, “I come in peace.” His other hand fidgeted behind him, the jockeys staring at him. Leaf looked unimpressed. “I’m not a feral cat! You can’t just-…” Leaf sighed. She looked back at Mouthpiece with the kind of sorrowful expression that nearly broke Mouthpiece’s mechanical heart right then and there.
She took a breath, “Leaf, he’s the only one who knows how to get into the playgrounds. You’re going to have to trust him,” Mouthpiece stepped forward. At Prethinker’s side, she slipped the bag of cookies to him, a slight clicking could be heard from Prethinker. His mandibles. Hidden behind his face plate. Not many cogs knew about them except for a very small few who caught him using them. Not quite a regular cog-trait but no one questioned why he had them. Leaf’s expression twisted more at the sight of them.
“And I can’t just walk there by myself…?”
“Leaf. I’m not letting a 15 year old walk around in the dark. You got confused for a cog just now by doing that. It’s a miracle you didn’t get hurt!” Mouthpiece exclaimed.
Prethinker nodded, “Yes. And I would never harm a child.” Leaf squinted, swaying slightly. She kept glancing at Prethinker and then squeezing her eyes tightly and looking away, as if Prethinker was suddenly glowing brightly. Yes, his eyes glowed slightly in the dark but his eyes weren’t that bright. Strange child…
Leaf looked at him again and slowly nodded, “Okay…fine, I’ll go…” Mouthpiece let out a soft breath. She knelt down, lying on her knees. Leaf looked miniscule compared to her as she threw herself into Mouthpiece’s arms. “Thank you, Brian. I’m sorry to bother you at this hour.” Mouthpiece stood up, nodding to him and carefully guiding Leaf back to him. She even slipped a second small bag of cookies into Leaf’s hand.
Leaf twitched her hand out of Prethinker’s when he tried to grab it. Cold…
“Of course, Belle, have a good rest of your night.” Prethinker waved goodbye, hand still twitching behind his back. The desk jockeys got closer, protecting Prethinker? Or getting closer to Leaf specifically?
Triangles danced just outside of Leaf’s vision, not stars, triangles. Like warning signs.
Strange…
As Mouthpiece turned on her bright flashlight, heading back down the purple streets of Mezzo Melodyland, Prethinker snapped his fingers.
The two desk jockeys seemed…horribly confused before the one in the black suit wrapped its arms tightly around Leaf, enough to squeeze a scream out of her like one of her damn RELATIVES SHE HATED hugging her! Prethinker facepalmed and raised his hand, “NO! This is the sign for the bag!” He gestured to his left hand, snapping again with it, “My right hand is the- gah! You jockeys are worse than the toons!!” Prethinker shook his finger at the two of them. The jockeys looked pitifully sorrowful and the one in the black suit started to set Leaf down. The moment Leaf’s feet touched the ground, she kicked off of it. She swung her arms and broke free from the jockey’s arms. She stumbled on her foot, getting turned around in the dark.
“WHAT IS WR-? MFFH!” Everything went dark abruptly. Throwing her hands forward, she could feel the roughness of the burlap. A bag-! Her legs gave out abruptly. Someone KICKED her! Her feet were raised and the light outside cut out with a zzzip! “See? Was that so hard?” Prethinker’s voice scoffed. The desk jockeys didn’t respond much outside of uhs and uhms. He groaned. “Just pick her up and start walking. The sooner we get back to the playground, the better.”
Leaf crossed her arms, looking just crossed with this whole situation. When she felt the arms of the jockeys slowly attempt to pick up the bag, she flailed her limbs about, shoving at the bag and trying to pry apart the bag. The bag was roughly tossed over one shoulder and swung back forward. Sharp, horrible pain in the back of Leaf’s head followed this swing before she had time to take a surprised breath from the falling sensation.
“STOP! What are you doing!? Are you trying to KILL her!? Are you blind as well as deaf!?” Through her…daze, Leaf could still make out Prethinker’s loud voice (but that’s hard to miss anyways). “Did I say ANYWHERE in ANY OF MY SIGNS to do that!?”
Maybe the horrible feeling would fade if she…closed her eyes…
What…a bunch…a…jerks……
~~~
When Leaf finally opened her eyes, the back of her head still ached. Well, ached was an understatement. Leaf traced her fingers over the coarse grass underneath her. The sky above her was mocha brown, the sun must’ve just been rising. Multiple suns glowed above. Those clouds were…so weirdly shaped…and one looked purple…and…pulsating? What?
“Are you finally awake? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame your body for trying to sleep off obvious head trauma, your nose was dripping with clear liquid. It’s the result of a funny thing called severe brain trauma from a certain 2 morons who thought it was a brilliant idea to smash your head against the concrete,” The cloud looked up at something out of Leaf’s vision.
There was a muted snapping in front of her face, “Are you awake enough to talk? If you need to, you can sleep longer. Considering the factors, you probably do, but we’ll start with the easy questions regardless.” Leaf dreaded the idea of talking right now. Didn’t sound pleasant right now if she was to be honest.
“What’s your name?”
“L…eaaff…”
“What are you?”
“Hu…uu…man…”
“What runs through your body?”
“Wh…what?”
“Cogs have oil, toons have ink. If you’re neither Cog nor Toon, what goes through your body?”
Leaf lifted a shaky, wobbly arm up towards the suns. It fell onto her face, over her eyes, snuffing out the light above. Everything was still murky but her hearing started to clear up, just barely. What did she have again…? Something red? The word was at the tip of her tongue.
“Bl…Blood…?” She answered, voice wobbling. Was that correct? It’s…hard to tell.
“So that’s what those lawbots are always talking about…” The cloud hummed, something clicking out of view, “Would you mind if I took a small sample for further research?” Leaf recoiled as much as her dizzy self would allow her.
“I’m not going to use it for anything creepy like making a clone whatever horrors are running through your bizarre head. I actually quite enjoy my job as a sellbot and I’d rather not have even more on my disciplinary record alongside what I said to S.V.P Bravecog, experimenting with fusion, trying to buy gags, and what I did to Buck.”
The mention of Buck got a flinch from Leaf, “Y…You did tho…s-something to…to Buck?” The cloud’s fogginess finally faded from Leaf’s vision, just enough to make out Prethinker sitting on an old desk and munching a cookie in front of her.
“I offered to do his annual tune-up. Let’s just say, something went wrong. Before you ask, it wasn’t my fault Mr. Ruffler kept squirming while I was trying to fix him.” His voice didn’t line up with his weird mandibles. Leaf’s hand hovered to point before she could form the words. “I don’t speak with my mouth, I use my speaker like Benjamin, Holly, and Misty do. Any cog without a visible mouth really. Any other questions?” Prethinker glanced at something at his side, a needle, and then back at Leaf.
Leaf-
“Where do you come from? Nearly forgot to ask that alongside everything else. I come from way outside of Toon- the Central Oil District, somewhere in Suitopia and I haven’t seen anything like you before. So. Where are you from?” He hopped off the desk, picking up the needle, “And I ask again, if I may take a sample.” Leaf shifted uncomfortably on her spot in the dusty, dirty green carpet. She was never a fan of needles.
“Nothing bad is going to come of this. Think of it like an ink donation! You’re going to feel a small pinch and then you’ll be just fine.” Leaf held her head.
An answer.
She needed an answer. What does she answer with? Is she even in the right space to answer it?
Prethinker had got hard to look at again. She held out her arm and pointed at a discolored, blue part. “I think, from other times, you want to go for here? Though be warned, I’m not a fan of needles,” Leaf’s words came out of her mouth but it didn’t feel like she herself had wanted to say them. It felt more like she had briefly become a puppet, a doll. What a terrible feeling.
Prethinker slid off the desk, pulling the needle into his hand and carefully wrapping his other hand around Leaf’s wrist. The needle hovered above her skin. Leaf had no idea how much she truly wanted to play her arm away. She had to hold her breath and force her mind to think about something else. Her eyes darted around the space tryingly. There was a pinch and Leaf’s eyes finally landed on the torn up chairs in the room. This room looked like a large lecture hall. Yes, focus on that, ignore the needle in your arm.
Leaf yanked her arm back the very second the needle left her arm (somehow Prethinker was quicker to release his hand from her wrist). “I knew you were going to do that. ‘Not a big fan’ is an understatement I’d say, you looked ready to start panicking if you hadn’t grounded yourself.” He stood up, tucking the needle away. He gestured to the lecture hall around them, “It’s a disheveled place, much too undignified for an operating place but suppose it’s all I have. It helps that people rarely come down here so it rarely occurs to them that a cog may be hiding directly under the ground they tread on.”
“Is-”
“It’s a little ‘lonely’ down here but I have the desk jockeys down here with me if I need socialization that badly but for the record, I prefer to be alone.”
Leaf’s expression soured. “Could you stop predicting what I’m going to say and actually let me ask something myself?? It’s annoying…” Prethinker rolled his eyes. “It’s part of my job, I’m called The Prethinker for a reason. But if you insist I let you ask a question instead of telling you first, then you have the floor.” Prethinker gestured to Leaf, sarcastically. More like the Jerkthinker.
Leaf didn’t like this guy before and she still doesn’t like this guy after waking up from having her head slammed against the sidewalk. He was a bit of a snob. Understatement. He was a massive snob. Acting like he could see the future. Most aggravatingly, he had been correct about the questions Leaf had wanted to ask! She wanted to ask what he was doing down here, she wanted to ask if it was lonely! Gah!
“What even is a prethinker? I thought it was just some random- combination- of words but you’re acting like it’s some kind of real word! I’ve never heard of it and for the record, it’s kind of a dumb word.”
Prethinker narrowed his eyes indignantly. “It is a real word. It’s a word for someone, such as I, who thinks about all possibilities from a decision, both positive and negative. I should be disappointed in you for somehow not knowing such a word but you’re young, at least 15, so I will only blame you if you happen to forget.”
Leaf sighed. She had so many snide comments she wanted to make. Her eyes started to wander around the space again. Torn up chairs, too many spiderwebs, random gags placed on a shelf away from the desk Prethinker sat on, a pile of random books, and a blackboard covered in doodles. Ooo. Prethinker had gone back to eating the cookies, sitting on the desk again and it seemed their conversation was done. However as she approached the blackboard to get a closer look at the nonsense doodles on them, Prethinker hopped from his place and blocked her.
“Don’t touch those. I understand you’re a child but there are other things you can do down here while we wait for the sun to come up, if you insist on not sleeping.”
Leaf tilted over but he blocked her again. “Stop it. You may not be a toon but you’re still on their side, that much is obvious. And thus my plans are classified to you.” Leaf looked away, staring at the pile of books scattered in the corner on the dirty floor. They looked faded, old, cobwebs strung between them. Maybe she could feign interest in the books and get a peek of the doodles when Prethinker explained them?
Leaf moved over to the books.
But Prethinker didn’t move from his place against the blackboard. Dang, he really was smart. However, he had started correcting the doodles. Leaf looked at the board from her new place on the ground. On the board were doodles of a machine. One that claimed could control minds through…reverse engineering a lure gag or using someone else that Leaf couldn’t make out from behind Prethinker (‘LAST RESORT’ was all she could make out). In the corner, there was also a doodle of something else but Leaf couldn’t get a good look at it. May?? Like the month??
“I don’t think you can mind control toons,” Leaf’s fingers traced over the pages of the book as she mumbled. It had been filled completely minus a few slips of paper with faded writings on it. There was even a faded task covered with oil from someone named Judy. A cog actually. All of them incomplete. “Of course you would think that. However, you wouldn’t know so your opinion means nothing to my research.”
Leaf checked its first page for the owner of this book.
“All of those Shticker Books are used so I wouldn’t try using those. You can get a new one from Professor Pete upstairs.”
“It says it belongs- belonged to someone named Flora Shrewfoot.”
Prethinker snatched the book from Leaf faster than she could blink, tossing it somewhere into the chairs. He turned back to the scribbles on the board just as fast and continued writing. His writing wasn’t as smooth as he pressed the chalk hard into the board.
“That was…sudden. Did you know them?” Leaf asked.
“She is irrelevant to me, as all toons are. I did know her but I hadn’t known her book was down here.” Leaf didn’t buy that.
“Then why did you throw the book?? Seems unnecessary for just knowing someone in the past.”
“I said she is irrelevant,” The chalk snapped in two. Prethinker ran his fingers across the board, no chalk left. He sighed loudly and turned to the two jockeys in the room. “Watch her. I need to grab more chalk. Do not let her touch that book!” He slammed the door behind him. The two jockeys slowly looked at Leaf with the sort of look you get from a guilty dog. Y’know, the dog side eye. That look. And then vaulted over each other to block Leaf from the…rest of the shtickerbooks…
A genius working with absolute morons. Must be annoying.
However.
Works for her.
Leaf turned her head to the rest of the room. Creaky, cobweb-y, in the far back was a 1 ton weight that had absolutely destroyed the ground (and was also covered in spiderwebs) but overall, barely much else in this basement. Which row did that book land in? Looking back at the jockeys, they were watching her closely but they seemed proud of themselves, heads held up on their cherry picker-like necks.
In between the dusty, torn up chairs (that were totally not causing her allergies to act up, totally…), laid the thrown shtickerbook. Leaf dusted off the cover again. She stared at the faded green and yellow book and sat in one of the torn, ruined, ebicha brown chairs, scooting the small table attachment off to the side. The pages of the book were coarse and yellowed from time (and also had an unhealthy amount of dust on them). As Leaf flipped through the pages however, a rugged note fell out. It was stained but it looked newer than the book itself.
Not by much but still younger than the book.
Leaf opened the note, finding purple writing staring at her back.
Dear Professor Pete,
As startling as it may be, by the time you read this, I will be long gone. Do not try to find me. Just assume that I have done what no toon has considered doing. I refuse to partake in this toony nonsense anymore. I have been trampled on and pushed to be the smartest of toons. Despite what it may seem, Mr. and Mrs. Shrewfoot have pushed me past the point hanging on by a thread, past the point of sanity, I will no longer stand to live as a toon. Clearly, I was born as the wrong thing and have been blind to it for my entire life. Oh, why am I even writing? You won’t see this note. I shouldn’t even be writing this note. I’ll risk you trying to find me. I don’t want to be found.
Regards,
Flora Shrewfoot
Leaf carefully folded the note and slipped it back between the pages of the shticker book. Why finish the note? Why continue writing? Perhaps guilt? Leaf understood that. She had written a note too but her parents hadn’t seen it. She had stopped herself and burned the note before her parents ever read it, before they ever realized what she had tried to do. Leaf continued to read through the rest of the book. She hated these thoughts. In the back was a small section where someone could keep track of their own life and events. All of it had been used (minus some blank pages in the back, noticeably stapled in). And had some oil dripped on the corners?
The new body works great, minus a few leaks that I’ve taken to repairing ASAP when I find them. I even manage to surprise myself with my genius. As for getting into that university in Suitopia, I might’ve overestimated the intelligence of cogs. Why, I walked right in and they didn’t even double check my information before allowing me to take classes. Suppose they think the same of toons as I do, too stupid to come up with something as brilliant as transferring their consciousness into a mechanical body. Or, rather, they could never imagine a toon wanting such a thing. No one has caught me writing in this book either. The name Brian Strom apparently fits in with their society (I met this duck cog named Casey Noe…weird girl who got a little too close on our first greeting but she seems nice enough. Dim but nice. Perhaps I can make friends here) as no cogs have even batted an eye when hearing the name. I had to have practiced for hours to say Brian Strom as my name instead of Flora Lavenderfoot. I think I’d recoil if I heard anyone say that ridiculous name in my presence again. No matter, that “life” is behind me now. I need to stop thinking about it. With the name, I should also stop writing in this stupid book.
Though, I suppose if I start having second thoughts and go back to being a toon, I can look back on these days with the same laughable disgust I have for toons now.
The dots immediately connected in Leaf’s head. She set down the book as if she had touched an unexpectedly damp towel. Leaf picked it back up quickly. It was quick but she felt bad for dropping it. No wonder now why Prethinker had…
Leaf’s hands moved to open the book faster than she could stop herself. Maybe she could understand Prethinker better if she…kept reading. Is it so wrong to be selfish for a change?
I messed up.
I messed up so badly.
He was my friend, how could I do this to him?
LIKE HE’S A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT!?
What’s wrong with me?
Did transferring into this new body mess up my morals??
I promised him that I knew what I was doing and this tune-up was going to be on the same level of quality as his annual ones. I saw it. I saw it happen. His voicebox melted, he can’t keep his tongue in his mouth now, he talks with a lisp, misunderstands basic instructions, everyone treats him like a JOKE and instead of admitting I messed up, I said with a straight face that I did nothing wrong. That the effects were a part of the legal papers. That he should’ve read closer. I hadn’t written down any effects! I had full confidence in my abilities and now he’s paying for my stupidity! My failure. How could I lie straight to his face like that and
He’s never going to forgive me. I’m alone. Again and again and again and again and again and again and again and
I always will be.
I deserve this.
I never should’ve tried being a cog. I’m too stupid to be one of them. I really am, and will always be, a stupid toon.
Leaf closed the book for the final time. She knew exactly how that felt. She had texted similar things to her friends, many times when she thought they weren’t online. If she hadn’t texted them, she had thought them. Leaf clung onto the book, each word etched into her head with horrible accuracy and peeked over the lecture hall’s rows of seats. Prethinker still hadn’t come back with the new chalk. Reasonably, she can give this book back to the jockeys, or she can place it back here in the seats all splayed out like it had been and pretend she never touched it. That would be less suspicious.
The door creaked open and Leaf felt the book slip from her hands slightly. The creak was soft but loud enough to snap Leaf from her spiral. She was still holding the shticker book, crud! If Prethinker saw her holding it, he’d kill her! Or, at the least, hate her after this. She could hear murmurs of her own parents in the back of her head. Leaf’s eyes darted from the book to the door to the book to the door.
Leaf tossed it to the chairs and ran down the stairs, trying not to trip down the weirdly shaped steps like theater steps. She picked up the piece of broken chalk abandoned on the ground. Chalky and horrible texture between her fingers, how anyone handled using these things, she wished shame upon those who used chalk over the far superior markers and color pencils! In an untouched corner, mostly untouched, she scribbled a small flower. Above the doodle, however, her eyes spotted 3 things.
A crossed out drawing of some…ufo sort of shaped cog. Not ufo, it was hard to tell what she was looking at honestly. It had Prethinker’s eyes and lack of mouth though. Above it was another doodle of Prethinker himself and another cog Leaf had never seen named Benjamin Biggs.
Large words above the ufo doodle said ‘NEVER AGAIN’.
And a date for “Maypril 1st (TOMORROW)” with a note to meet said Benjamin Biggs in a place called the Brass and Shipping District on a street called Tenor Terrace behind a building that had too many Ms in its name.
Honestly, Leaf wasn’t surprised that the strange world she found herself in had different months. Or that she was in a completely different month than when she left. Back home, it was December!
“HEY!” Prethinker took Leaf’s place, eyes glancing over the board with mechanical precision.
Or panic.
Probably panic.
Prethinker scribbled vigorously on the board to correct any lines that Leaf hadn’t touched.
Definitely panic.
“What did you do!? What did you touch!?” Prethinker pointed the chalk he held accusingly at Leaf. Leaf sat up. “I-I touched nothing! I promise! I just d-drew a flower-” Prethinker huffed, glaring at the flower on the board. He settled, hand on his chest and sighing. “Don’t do that again.” He wagged his finger at Leaf.
“It was just a flower. I didn’t touch anything else! Not even those doodles!”
Prethinker put his hands on his hips, “Doodles!? Ohoho! You pea-brained child! These aren’t mere drawings like that pathetic excuse for a black dahlia flower you made just now,” Prethinker took the box of chalk he had dropped on the floor and started to restock the board with the chalk. What was a black dahlia?? Leaf was just drawing. “These ‘doodles’ could benefit C.O.G.S far more than a toon could ever benefit from us Cogs leaving Toontown Central- the Central Oil District entirely!” His slip-ups in referring to Toontown Central as Toontown Central instead of Central Oil District made more sense now that Leaf had read those notes. The guilt gnawed at her still. Maybe she should tell him she went through the book?
Ehh…best to not mention it at all. Prethinker was already angry at Leaf’s small flower doodle (which in Leaf’s opinion was a complete overreaction to a flower but she wasn’t the all knowing, smartest cog in the world literally ever guy. What an annoying snob). She didn’t want Prethinker blowing his top or anything. His brain had already turned red. Gross…
“-child like yourself couldn’t even begin to understand WHY C.O.G.S wants this place or why Toons and Cogs hate each other even if you dedicated your entire life to figuring it out! So why try to correct my plans at all!? You know nothing! Hahah!” Dang, had he been ranting that entire time? At least he hadn’t noticed that Leaf had stopped paying attention a while ago. …And her eyes had been starting to shut.
“Why am I even bothering to explain all this to you!? There’s no world where you understand! You’re just a child! You’re barely even capable of complex thought as I am!
“You b-being in my mere presence is enough to bring down my grade curve! I should’ve never taken that offer from Belle! You!? HA! HahahaHA! A bright, smart, and friendly toon!? More like- like a dim, stupid, and ridiculous human!!
“ARE YOU FALLING ASLEEP!? NOW!?”
The explosion that followed this extremely angry question made Leaf flinch but ultimately did not stop her from falling asleep.
~~~
When Leaf opened her eyes from her totally 20 minute power nap (7 hour sleep), she found herself laying on cartoonishly green grass, bag of cookies at her side, sun shining over the horizon painting the sky brilliant shades of greyish blue, orange and yellow…and Flippy checking her over in a whirlwind of sheer panic. Literal whirlwind of blue, black, and orange speeding around her asking far too many questions. “Where were you? How did you get back to Central? I stayed up all night looking for you! Not your fault of course- I’m not trying to imply that- toons get kidnapped by cogs all the time- You disappeared randomly-! I had Lowden asking Toon Resistance Members to search for you well into the night all around Toontown! Forsomestrangereason,wehadacogcallingus???” The questions were nonstop, and the shaking from Flippy did not help Leaf feel any better.
At least his tail was wagging and the purple floating around his head was slowly turning a bright, excited yellow with hints of pink.
Flippy pulled Leaf into a tight hug, blue tail beating against the vibrant green grass. He shakily sighed, “Never do that again…” He muttered. “Where did you even head off to in the first place? Did you get lost in the dark?? Did you get kidnapped by cogs and triumphantly escape???” Leaf wanted to reply but by the time she squeaked out an attempt at a response, Flippy had already been dragging Leaf inside the schoolhouse, raving about needing tell Lowden to help her learn how to defeat cogs, get her a shtickerbook and a bunch of other stuff Leaf had definitely not heard.
Before the doors to the schoolhouse closed, Leaf saw a note hanging on the basement door in purple ink that had STAY OUT >:[ written on it. And Leaf saw as a familiar purple hand grabbed the note from behind the basement doors and yanked it back inside the basement. Guess she had an enemy now. Sheesh, overreaction much?
Next->
Brian huffed as the basement door slammed shut from him whirling around. His glass head was empty, black ash from his brain exploding still covered his shoulders and face. A replacement brain was in order. Again. As long as he stayed working for this company, they’d never replace him. His shape was original. He made it himself when he was a toon. It’s why he did his own repairs. His secret. His past couldn’t be found out if they never saw his innards. His scrap metal innards. His brianbots stood too close behind him.
“Dang it!” His pupils shrunk, “Give me my space, you idiots! You don’t NEED to be trailing behind me 24/7 like a bunch of lost toons!! I don’t need you as much as you think I do! BUZZ OFF!!” He threw his hands into the air, shoving one of the brianbots away from him and storming towards the stairs with them left behind him.
…Maybe he hadn’t meant that last comment.
It didn’t feel like his heart was in that comment.
Despite what it may seem, he had liked these poor excuses for cogs. At least he hated them slightly less than his fellow sellbots (managers not included. …Graham is his least favorite. Graham sucks).
As Brian stormed down the stairs, he caught a glimpse of his old shticker book. The pages were neatly together, not like they would’ve been after he had thrown it. Had Leaf gone through his old shticker book? That brat! He knew it! He knew it once he saw that poorly scribbled flower that she had been up to no good! Brian snatched the book from the rows of chairs and felt his grip on it tighten. His antenna stopped pressing against his head and his mandibles protracted from behind his faceplate, this time dripping with thick strands of purple liquid. His neurotoxin.
No one knew that his fangs weren’t just for eating, that they were a defense mechanism he added to his robotic form before he transferred into it, other than his brianbots and a few unlucky toons who tried their luck against him a little too confidently. The type of toons who disregarded their battle system and tried to actually fight fight him. Capable of severe pain and swelling in the bite and surrounding area and total paralysis for smaller toons.
Brian took a shaky, angry breath. His antenna stayed out but his mandibles stopped dripping with venom. He wasn’t in danger. Just absolutely pissed. Brian held the book tight between his hands as if afraid that it would disappear from him again as he strolled down the lecture hall steps. He grabbed a set of paper towels tucked beneath the desk where the toons usually fought him from and ripped a few off from the rest. He wiped the venom dripping from his fangs. Brian looked to the spill of venom on the steps. He’d tell his brianbots to clean that.
For now…
Brian walked behind the old basement door beside the black board. Behind was his true base of operations. A terribly set up but shockingly roomy storage closet. He had his mattress off in a corner with a charging cord beside it that he had had with him ever since he started work on his body back when he had been a toon. There was a small door that led to the training room upstairs and down here? Were parts. Many, many parts and currently not in use Desk Jockey shells that he would soon turn into more brianbots.
Brian grabbed a pen from an old container beside his dusty mattress and purple blanket. A purple pen.
Does that girl seriously think I can’t recognize when someone has gone through something?! Yes, this is a years old book but I can still recognize the differences! I severely doubt my brianbots would’ve gone through my old shticker book a second time. What a bratty little child! She better not tell ANYONE, ESPECIALLY NOT PROFESSOR PETE. …Well! In case she goes through this book a second time, I have some words to write about her. Just need…to calm down a little so my language is not biased.
Leaf, you are a very strange kid, yet so identical to the naive idiot I had been when I was first given this book (that you so rudely went through despite my instructions not to). So, let me phrase it like this, the least you can do after you went through this book like that bell, Benjamin (who is currently somehow less annoying than you in this current moment), is not tell anyone what you read. You’re noticeably going through the same feelings I did (you’re not subtle). You wouldn’t understand most anything but you’d understand not being comfortable in your body at the absolute least, certainly. I wouldn’t tell everyone your old name, that you were born a boy, so don’t tell my coworkers the truth. I didn’t do all of this just to be dismantled for not being a “real cog” or whatever terrible thing C.O.G.S Inc would do to me should they find out. Then again, I cannot guarantee you will go through this book again (and I’d also prefer if you didn’t go through this book again).
Then I suppose I will send you this as a note. Suppose it’s finally time to talk to him again, since he’s the only one I know who also knows you. I better not regret this. It’s the very start of Maypril. I hope he’s not already fused with Dave…
Brian tore the page from the book carefully and folded it into an envelope he sealed with a purple wax stamp that had the Sellbots Company logo on it. He set the wax and stamp off to the side. Brian really didn’t want to talk to him but he didn’t have much of a choice. Children are unpredictable, especially one who constantly said everything she was thinking like Leaf clearly was.
He needed to meet Benjamin in the Brass and Shipping District regardless of if he had made this note or not anyways. Whatever plans he had made with Benjamin and had forgotten were written right on the board. Right above the drawing of a flower Leaf left behind. Had Brian really believed she was drawing a black dahlia? Not really, it was just the first flower he could think of when he saw it. The bizarre thing tended to represent doom.
Maybe that was just Prethinker being a pessimist.
Taking an eraser from the board, he wiped away the flower doodle and the date on the board. He put the envelope with the letter in it inside one of his suit’s pockets. His brianbots shifted anxiously. What was the problem now…?
Brian shook his head, he wouldn’t deal with them.
“I must head out, jockeys, I will be back long before days end, there’s no way a small trip to the Brass and Shipping District will take that long.”
“…Will it actually be you this time?”
Brian shot the brianbot that asked the question a firmly confused look. When no reply came, he rolled his eyes. He took a small check outside the basement doors. No toons around. Good. Brian climbed over the fence and started up his propeller to make the fly to the Brass and Shipping District.