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(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 theirsđ!!!!)
(Headcanons in this story: Mouthpiece has intrusive thoughts; Brian has insectoid features; one more that Iâm not mentioning here because itâs 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. âYou mustâve had a rougher journey here than you let on, poor sproutling.â Mouthpiece knelt down, wrapping her arms around Leaf and scooping her off the couch. âYou couldâve asked me if I had a bed you could use,â She teased, brushing a strand of pale green hair away from her pale face. âThe cookies will be there for you in the morning.â
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. âThis was Cassieâs old room before she moved to a different room. This room is Prestonâs now.â 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 didnât 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 hadnât meant to startle the poor thing.
Her phone went to the dial tone. Goodness, perhaps it was too lateâŚ
âYou have contacted Mezzo Melodylandâs Toon Resistance, whatâs the prob?â âProb? How completely unprofessional. Itâs no wonder why C.O.G.S have come so far when they talk like that,â Mouthpieceâs thoughts whispered angrily but she took a breath to settle her nerves. âExcuse me?â Mouthpieceâs robotic voice ran through the phone attached to her head, âMay I speak to Tango please?â
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 couldâve 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, âI have a toon-â âDonât phrase it like that! Youâll make them panic worse! Do you want them to think youâve kidnapped a toon!?â âH-Here. At my place. Sleeping peacefully, E-Emphasis on peacefully,â She corrected. âAnd I was hoping I could enter the playground. To, pardon, could everyone please stop yelling? I mean no harm.â Mouthpiece covered the end of her phone so she could let out a loud sigh. This was annoying. She didnât hate toons as much as her fellow managers did, but this was still irritating. The panic came to a slow end. Finally.
âThis is Belle DamaâŚâ None of those poor toons will recognize that name. âEr, The Mouthpiece. From the Lawbots. I have a toon here at my place, sleeping in my grandchildâs 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.â
The first voice she heard respond was from Tango, the exact person she was looking to contact. âWe canât trust that you donât want to trudge in here with cogs behind you.â And then they hung up on her again! Mouthpiece couldnât 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 headquartersâŚ
~~~
Mouthpiece crossed Toontown Centralâs Headquarters off her mental list.
If she hadnât 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 grandkidâs rooms, NOT being brutally tortured for information and begging for freedom, thank you very much, Will Lusion! And Mouthpiece couldnât 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, sheâd rather not have that on her record.
SheâŚcould try contacting her fellow lawbot managers and seeing if any of them were available to get Leaf back to the centralâŚ
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.
âBelle. Why do you have a toon at your house? AT your house! We shouldnât 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 theyâll think next time before wandering out at night. I have a gas leak at the house I need to fix anyways.â
âYouâve been letting it LEAK this entire time!? Cog dang it! I got repairs to get to!!â
âWhatâs the problem? As long as I donât go inside the place, itâll be fine.â
âSorry Belle! I would but Iâve got an appointment in 5 minutes that I have to get too!â Mouthpiece fidgeted with her suit, skeptical, âAt this hourâŚ?â Her eyes wandered to the clock on the kitchen wall that read 11:59pm. Her voice dripped with uneasy trust.
âYEP! Sorry! Ask Kidd.â
âAt this hour?â Mouthpiece restated.
âIâm a very busy body, Belle!â Courtney also restated. She passed the phone to Kilo.
âI just said repairs!! The stupid cogs behind my suit insisted they gave me more durability but it did NOTHING!!â Kilo ranted, continuing to rant, âI canât just deliver some random TOON to the playground!! Not without the others! Never without the others! Iâd be dismantled!! I ALSO NOW HAVE TO STOP MUNDIE FROM BLOWING HIMSELF UP WITH HIS DANG GAS LEAK!!â
"I mean, sure, if a toon goes in there, theyâre screwed but weâre cogs, we donât need to breathe.â
âITâS STILL DANGEROUS!!â 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 wouldâŚrather 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, heâd 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. âHeâs also a massive jerk. A belligerent, angry jerk.â
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. âProbably riling cogs up. Again.â 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 Monsoonâs number.
The phone rang quietly throughout the house.
And Mouthpiece was left with disappointment again.
âGoâŚinto the playground? BelleâŚitâs good that youâre trying to help a toon. It is! You know how much Iâve wanted to be friends withâŚt-toons. Itâs justâŚI donât think Iâd even get past the lighthouse. Bessie has meâŚsort ofâŚtrapped 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 meâŚâ Misty kept the phone close to her. âIâm sorry, Belle, I want to help but until Mary gets that cease and desist through, I canât leave. I donât want another piano on my headâŚâ
So, thatâs all of her fellow Lawbot managers unavailableâŚ
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 wasâŚinterestingâŚ
âBELLE!!! I know ecthactly who youâre talking about!! Theâth Leaf, ithnât the? I talked to her earlier! I PLAYED with her earlier! I beat her in a game of Toono!!â Mouthpiece could tell Buck was bouncing on the other end of the phone. The two didnât talk too often. âAnd theâth at your plathe? Did you get her to try your cookieth??â Mouthpiece chuckled. The tune-upâŚhad messed up his sanity and voice just a bit but overall, he was stillâŚhimself, it made Mouthpiece glad to see him mostly recover from it.
âNo, she fell asleep the moment we arrived at my house. Poor girl. Sheâs in Cassieâs old room right now, where Preston stays now when my children bring him over. Donât worry, I plan to give her them before she leaves.â Mouthpiece took a moment to properly word her question.
And the answer?
âOh, I, uh, I can get her to Thentral Oil Dithrict no problemoth, Belle! The playground ithâŚa different anthwerâŚâ Duck Shuffler shuffled. âI donât know any wayth in! Not me! Nope! And if they thee me ffffly in with Leaf, theyâd probably attack me!! No thankth! Thorry!! Maybe that new hire can help you??â Mouthpiece hung up on Duck Shuffler, muttering a goodbye. She didnât have Operatorâs number yet, and last she had heard of him, he doesnât like making calls anyway. Hurt his head. Judging even more from their last interaction, he wouldnât 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 heâd 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.
RingâŚringâŚ
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 sheâd have to get badly hurt trying to get Leaf there and risk Leaf receiving the same treatment.
âHello? Who is this?â
Mouthpiece stood straight instantly, collecting her cards and placing them back inside the rolodex. She tried not to spill them everywhere a second time. âHello, this is Belle Dama,â Mouthpiece hoped the confidence in her tone would be enough to hide her lack of it.
âBelle? What is a lawbot such as yourself doing by calling me at this hour?â 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.
âI had a question. Firstly, there are rumors that you, at least I believe, if Iâm calling the right person, that you are currently inside one of the toonsâ playgrounds? Do I have the correct person?â Mouthpieceâs foot tapped anxiously.
âWhy yes! It is true,â The cog boasted, âI am currently here, fixing up some more of those toonsâ poor excuses of cogs. I keep stealing them when they arenât paying attention. Itâs almost comedic to watch them try to figure out why they keep disappearing and then reappearing âgoing off scriptâ. It was quite unimpressive how terrible their security was and still is! Iâve been here for approximately 5 months and not a single dimwitted toon has tried to enter the basement or has figured out that Iâm even down here!â
âThatâs good. If it would be okay with you, I need you for something, Iâve tried calling everyone but theyâre all busy with something else,â Mouthpiece lowered her voice the closer to the Leafâs door she got. The cog on the other side immediately lit up.
âYou need me for something? I knew my intellectual prowess would be needed! So ask away, Belle, what do you need of me? Lessonâs over for now, jockeys, I have far more important matters concerning me. Shoo! Shoo!â There was a minor mumble about repairs but they were cut short by the cog refusing to reply.
âDo you have a way to get back inside the playground should you leave?â Mouthpiece cracked open the door to Leafâs room, checking on her guest. Still asleep.
âYou insult me! Of course I have a way back in. Do you really think I wouldnâtâve thought ahead and considered needing to take trips outside of the playground? I canât just stay down here all the time. I still have a life outside of Cogs.Inc, Mouthpiece.â
âGood. Now the actual reason why Iâm calling you.â Mouthpiece took a careful breath, sitting down on the cozy, cornflower blue couch once again. Hereâs where her convincing skills would have to come in handy. She was a lawbot, convincing one cog should be easy. âI have thisâŚâ
Here it goes.
âToon. In my basement. Asleep. She got pulled into a meeting because Ben and Jerry confused her forâŚâ Mouthpiece thought over her words, the situation she pulled Leaf out of was still so ridiculous to her, âBiggson Gayme Hunter. Trophy Hunter. The newest hire for the cashbots.â 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. âI was hoping you could meet me on Alto Avenue and bring her back to the Central Oil District. Sheâs 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.â
The excitement dropped from the cogâs voice immediately. âSuddenly, itâs occurring to me how everyone was suddenly busy.â He let out a sigh, âAnd you said you already called everyone else with this proposition?â Pause. âHow do I know this isnât a trap, Belle?â His voice suddenly dripped with suspicion.
âNone of the toons know or even bother to call us by our names. If I were a toon trying to trick you, Iâd introduce myself as the Mouthpiece. Please, I canât hold onto this toon forever, as sweet as she is, she most likely has a guardian, and theyâre probably worried sick about her.â Mouthpiece thought for an extra moment, âI can give you a tray of my cookies if thatâll help convince youâŚ?â
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 didnât 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.
âNo. That wouldnât convince me. Iâm far smarter than to fall for a simple bribing attempt.â 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! Theyâre ridiculous, loud and rarely ever nice.
âI just donât understand why you care about aâŚtoon. Yes, a younger toon, but still a toon. This isnâtâŚâ The cog wasnât done speaking. He hadnât hung up? ââŚFine. Make sure you bring a blind fold. I donât want this toon to see how I get in and have been getting in and out.â
Mouthpiece sat up. The answer wasnât a no.
âIâm only doing this out of my own, ridiculous curiosity. Which I shouldnât be. However, itâs a child and youâve 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.â There was another pause. ââŚAnd Iâll, admittedly, take some cookies, pleaseâŚâ
Mouthpiece nodded, âOf course. Of course. Th-Thank you!â 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 Prestonâs 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. YeeshâŚshe made more calls than she had realized. What was she still doing awake?
She got up from the couch and opened the door to Prestonâs 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 didnât 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 sheâd be safe. Itâs 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.
âLeaf?â Mouthpiece gently placed her hand on her honorary grandkidâs shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. A shaky whimper slipped out of Leaf, ân-noâŚi donât want to- to wake up yetâŚi donât want to go back homeâŚâ Mouthpiece kept shaking her, sitting on the bed. She rubbed her hand on Leafâs back.
âLeafâŚitâs me, Belle, youâre safe,â 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 Leafâs 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 couldnât make it out, not even after turning up her audio processors to max. Except for one thing.
âI like youâŚyou listenâŚI like the hearts around youâŚI wish I knew why they were blueâŚâ Mouthpiece hadnât 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.
Donât get distracted, Belle.
âIâm taking you back to Alto Avenue, I got someone who will be able to take you back to the Central Oil District. Youâre always welcome back here, Leaf.â Leaf didnât look up.
âeven ifâŚif i mess upâŚ?â
âMess up how?â
Leafâs hand hovered over her chest, she didnât finish her question.
âThatâs ridiculous, of course youâre still allowed here. I will accept you no matter what you are. Cog, Toon, some undiscovered species, youâre still welcome here.â
âI wish my parents were like youâŚâ
Mouthpiece brushed her hand gently over Leafâs green hair and stood up slowly, giving Leaf enough time to stand up as well. âLetâs get going now, Leaf. Your guardian is worried sick about where you went.â
~~~
The streets were empty, dark too by the time Leaf and Belle arrived at the meet-up point, a random building named Tom-Tomâs drums. Leaf wouldnât 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 wouldnât hurt Leaf, rightâŚ? Donât think like that, there is no point for Mouthpiece to harm her. Leaf can trust Mouthpiece.
âItâs coldâŚâ 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 didnât 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!!
âThere are no monsters in Toontown, LeafâŚâ Mouthpieceâs voice snapped Leaf out of her panicked trance trying to convince itself that she had not been calling Mouthpiece stupid. âI know,â She started cautiously, âB-But- you never know for sureâŚâ
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. Mouthpieceâs expression twisted. She was confused. Obviously Leaf had never seen this kind of cog before but she hadnât 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 wasnât 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.
âA toon would be quieter than you jockeys. How hard is it to not click and crank with every movement?â 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 Mouthpieceâs 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 daisyâŚ
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 cogâs 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. âBelle,â He adjusted himself in a way that was uncannily living-like. Leaf squirmed again, every red flag in her head was screaming. âSo you werenât lying. Thatâs good. I had expected a trap of sorts.â 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.
âLeafâŚâ Mouthpiece started, glancing at the cog before her, âThis is Brian, Prethinker, heâs not going to hurt you. Heâs here to help you back to the Central Oil District.â Leafâs expression didnât change, pressing into Mouthpiece, her hands up at her chest if she needed to fight.
Prethinker bent down to get a closer look at Leafâs 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, âDid youâŚshave it or something? Thatâs not a toon. If anything, hoping this doesnât come across wrong, it looks like a perfect, weird blend between a toon and a cog, Bel-â
âWHY IS YOUR BRAIN EXPOSED TO THE WORLD!?â 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.
âLeaf- thatâs notââ Mouthpiece scrambled to apologize to Prethinker who glanced at one of the strange cogs. âI am not going with him!â Leaf insisted, shooting behind Mouthpiece, glaring at Prethinker. âHe looks like heâs going to run experiments on me!â Prethinkerâs eyes flicked back to look at Leaf. She shook her head, muttering faint noâs under her breath. âIâm so sorry, Brian, she wasnât like this before-â
âFunny, that might be true, never seen anything like you before.â Prethinker had a bit of a smile in his eyes that dropped with Mouthpiece glared at him. âI mean- I said nothing,â 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.
âCalm down creature, I will not hurt you.â He placed his hand out, âI come in peace.â His other hand fidgeted behind him, the jockeys staring at him. Leaf looked unimpressed. âIâm not a feral cat! You canât just-âŚâ Leaf sighed. She looked back at Mouthpiece with the kind of sorrowful expression that nearly broke Mouthpieceâs mechanical heart right then and there.
She took a breath, âLeaf, heâs the only one who knows how to get into the playgrounds. Youâre going to have to trust him,â Mouthpiece stepped forward. At Prethinkerâs 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. Leafâs expression twisted more at the sight of them.
âAnd I canât just walk there by myselfâŚ?â
âLeaf. Iâm not letting a 15 year old walk around in the dark. You got confused for a cog just now by doing that. Itâs a miracle you didnât get hurt!â Mouthpiece exclaimed.
Prethinker nodded, âYes. And I would never harm a child.â 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 werenât that bright. Strange childâŚ
Leaf looked at him again and slowly nodded, âOkayâŚfine, Iâll goâŚâ Mouthpiece let out a soft breath. She knelt down, lying on her knees. Leaf looked miniscule compared to her as she threw herself into Mouthpieceâs arms. âThank you, Brian. Iâm sorry to bother you at this hour.â Mouthpiece stood up, nodding to him and carefully guiding Leaf back to him. She even slipped a second small bag of cookies into Leafâs hand.
Leaf twitched her hand out of Prethinkerâs when he tried to grab it. ColdâŚ
âOf course, Belle, have a good rest of your night.â 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 Leafâs vision, not stars, triangles. Like warning signs.
StrangeâŚ
As Mouthpiece turned on her bright flashlight, heading back down the purple streets of Mezzo Melodyland, Prethinker snapped his fingers.
The two desk jockeys seemedâŚhorribly 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, âNO! This is the sign for the bag!â He gestured to his left hand, snapping again with it, âMy right hand is the- gah! You jockeys are worse than the toons!!â 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 Leafâs feet touched the ground, she kicked off of it. She swung her arms and broke free from the jockeyâs arms. She stumbled on her foot, getting turned around in the dark.
âWHAT IS WR-? MFFH!â 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! âSee? Was that so hard?â Prethinkerâs voice scoffed. The desk jockeys didnât respond much outside of uhs and uhms. He groaned. âJust pick her up and start walking. The sooner we get back to the playground, the better.â
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 Leafâs head followed this swing before she had time to take a surprised breath from the falling sensation.
âSTOP! What are you doing!? Are you trying to KILL her!? Are you blind as well as deaf!?â Through herâŚdaze, Leaf could still make out Prethinkerâs loud voice (but thatâs hard to miss anyways). âDid I say ANYWHERE in ANY OF MY SIGNS to do that!?â
Maybe the horrible feeling would fade if sheâŚclosed her eyesâŚ
WhatâŚa bunchâŚaâŚjerksâŚâŚ
~~~
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 mustâve just been rising. Multiple suns glowed above. Those clouds wereâŚso weirdly shapedâŚand one looked purpleâŚandâŚpulsating? What?
âAre you finally awake? Donât get me wrong, I donât blame your body for trying to sleep off obvious head trauma, your nose was dripping with clear liquid. Itâs 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,â The cloud looked up at something out of Leafâs vision.
There was a muted snapping in front of her face, âAre you awake enough to talk? If you need to, you can sleep longer. Considering the factors, you probably do, but weâll start with the easy questions regardless.â Leaf dreaded the idea of talking right now. Didnât sound pleasant right now if she was to be honest.
âWhatâs your name?â
âLâŚeaaffâŚâ
âWhat are you?â
âHuâŚuuâŚmanâŚâ
âWhat runs through your body?â
âWhâŚwhat?â
âCogs have oil, toons have ink. If youâre neither Cog nor Toon, what goes through your body?â
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.
âBlâŚBloodâŚ?â She answered, voice wobbling. Was that correct? ItâsâŚhard to tell.
âSo thatâs what those lawbots are always talking aboutâŚâ The cloud hummed, something clicking out of view, âWould you mind if I took a small sample for further research?â Leaf recoiled as much as her dizzy self would allow her.
âIâm 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 Iâd 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.â
The mention of Buck got a flinch from Leaf, âYâŚYou did thoâŚs-something toâŚto Buck?â The cloudâs fogginess finally faded from Leafâs vision, just enough to make out Prethinker sitting on an old desk and munching a cookie in front of her.
âI offered to do his annual tune-up. Letâs just say, something went wrong. Before you ask, it wasnât my fault Mr. Ruffler kept squirming while I was trying to fix him.â His voice didnât line up with his weird mandibles. Leafâs hand hovered to point before she could form the words. âI donât speak with my mouth, I use my speaker like Benjamin, Holly, and Misty do. Any cog without a visible mouth really. Any other questions?â Prethinker glanced at something at his side, a needle, and then back at Leaf.
Leaf-
âWhere 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 havenât seen anything like you before. So. Where are you from?â He hopped off the desk, picking up the needle, âAnd I ask again, if I may take a sample.â Leaf shifted uncomfortably on her spot in the dusty, dirty green carpet. She was never a fan of needles.
âNothing bad is going to come of this. Think of it like an ink donation! Youâre going to feel a small pinch and then youâll be just fine.â 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. âI think, from other times, you want to go for here? Though be warned, Iâm not a fan of needles,â Leafâs words came out of her mouth but it didnât 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 Leafâs 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 Leafâs 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). âI knew you were going to do that. âNot a big fanâ is an understatement Iâd say, you looked ready to start panicking if you hadnât grounded yourself.â He stood up, tucking the needle away. He gestured to the lecture hall around them, âItâs a disheveled place, much too undignified for an operating place but suppose itâs 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.â
âIs-â
âItâs a little âlonelyâ 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.â
Leafâs expression soured. âCould you stop predicting what Iâm going to say and actually let me ask something myself?? Itâs annoyingâŚâ Prethinker rolled his eyes. âItâs part of my job, Iâm 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.â Prethinker gestured to Leaf, sarcastically. More like the Jerkthinker.
Leaf didnât like this guy before and she still doesnât 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!
âWhat even is a prethinker? I thought it was just some random- combination- of words but youâre acting like itâs some kind of real word! Iâve never heard of it and for the record, itâs kind of a dumb word.â
Prethinker narrowed his eyes indignantly. âIt is a real word. Itâs 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 youâre young, at least 15, so I will only blame you if you happen to forget.â
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.
âDonât touch those. I understand youâre 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.â
Leaf tilted over but he blocked her again. âStop it. You may not be a toon but youâre still on their side, that much is obvious. And thus my plans are classified to you.â 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 didnât 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 throughâŚreverse engineering a lure gag or using someone else that Leaf couldnât make out from behind Prethinker (âLAST RESORTâ was all she could make out). In the corner, there was also a doodle of something else but Leaf couldnât get a good look at it. May?? Like the month??
âI donât think you can mind control toons,â Leafâs 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. âOf course you would think that. However, you wouldnât know so your opinion means nothing to my research.â
Leaf checked its first page for the owner of this book.
âAll of those Shticker Books are used so I wouldnât try using those. You can get a new one from Professor Pete upstairs.â
âIt says it belongs- belonged to someone named Flora Shrewfoot.â
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 wasnât as smooth as he pressed the chalk hard into the board.
âThat wasâŚsudden. Did you know them?â Leaf asked.
âShe is irrelevant to me, as all toons are. I did know her but I hadnât known her book was down here.â Leaf didnât buy that.
âThen why did you throw the book?? Seems unnecessary for just knowing someone in the past.â
âI said she is irrelevant,â 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. âWatch her. I need to grab more chalk. Do not let her touch that book!â He slammed the door behind him. The two jockeys slowly looked at Leaf with the sort of look you get from a guilty dog. Yâknow, the dog side eye. That look. And then vaulted over each other to block Leaf from theâŚrest of the shtickerbooksâŚ
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, totallyâŚ), 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 wonât see this note. I shouldnât even be writing this note. Iâll risk you trying to find me. I donât 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 hadnât 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 Iâve 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 mightâve overestimated the intelligence of cogs. Why, I walked right in and they didnât 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 NoeâŚweird 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 Iâd recoil if I heard anyone say that ridiculous name in my presence again. No matter, that âlifeâ 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 Leafâs 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 hadâŚ
Leafâs hands moved to open the book faster than she could stop herself. Maybe she could understand Prethinker better if sheâŚkept 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 HEâS A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT!?
Whatâs 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 canât 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 shouldâve read closer. I hadnât written down any effects! I had full confidence in my abilities and now heâs paying for my stupidity! My failure. How could I lie straight to his face like that and
Heâs never going to forgive me. Iâm alone. Again and again and again and again and again and again and again and
I always will be.
I deserve this.
I never shouldâve tried being a cog. Iâm 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 werenât online. If she hadnât 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 hallâs rows of seats. Prethinker still hadnât 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, heâd kill her! Or, at the least, hate her after this. She could hear murmurs of her own parents in the back of her head. Leafâs 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 someâŚufo sort of shaped cog. Not ufo, it was hard to tell what she was looking at honestly. It had Prethinkerâs 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 âNEVER AGAINâ.
And a date for âMaypril 1st (TOMORROW)â 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 wasnât 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!
âHEY!â Prethinker took Leafâs 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 hadnât touched.
Definitely panic.
âWhat did you do!? What did you touch!?â Prethinker pointed the chalk he held accusingly at Leaf. Leaf sat up. âI-I touched nothing! I promise! I just d-drew a flower-â Prethinker huffed, glaring at the flower on the board. He settled, hand on his chest and sighing. âDonât do that again.â He wagged his finger at Leaf.
âIt was just a flower. I didnât touch anything else! Not even those doodles!â
Prethinker put his hands on his hips, âDoodles!? Ohoho! You pea-brained child! These arenât mere drawings like that pathetic excuse for a black dahlia flower you made just now,â 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. âThese âdoodlesâ 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!â 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?
EhhâŚbest to not mention it at all. Prethinker was already angry at Leafâs small flower doodle (which in Leafâs opinion was a complete overreaction to a flower but she wasnât the all knowing, smartest cog in the world literally ever guy. What an annoying snob). She didnât want Prethinker blowing his top or anything. His brain had already turned red. GrossâŚ
â-child like yourself couldnât 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!â Dang, had he been ranting that entire time? At least he hadnât noticed that Leaf had stopped paying attention a while ago. âŚAnd her eyes had been starting to shut.
âWhy am I even bothering to explain all this to you!? Thereâs no world where you understand! Youâre just a child! Youâre barely even capable of complex thought as I am!
âYou b-being in my mere presence is enough to bring down my grade curve! I shouldâve never taken that offer from Belle! You!? HA! HahahaHA! A bright, smart, and friendly toon!? More like- like a dim, stupid, and ridiculous human!!
âARE YOU FALLING ASLEEP!? NOW!?â
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 yellowâŚand 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. âWhere were you? How did you get back to Central? I stayed up all night looking for you! Not your fault of course- Iâm 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???â 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, âNever do that againâŚâ He muttered. âWhere 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???â 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, theyâd never replace him. His shape was original. He made it himself when he was a toon. Itâs why he did his own repairs. His secret. His past couldnât be found out if they never saw his innards. His scrap metal innards. His brianbots stood too close behind him.
âDang it!â His pupils shrunk, âGive me my space, you idiots! You donât NEED to be trailing behind me 24/7 like a bunch of lost toons!! I donât need you as much as you think I do! BUZZ OFF!!â 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.
âŚMaybe he hadnât meant that last comment.
It didnât 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. âŚGraham 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 wouldâve 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 werenât 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 wasnât 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. Heâd tell his brianbots to clean that.
For nowâŚ
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 canât 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 wouldâve gone through my old shticker book a second time. What a bratty little child! She better not tell ANYONE, ESPECIALLY NOT PROFESSOR PETE. âŚWell! In case she goes through this book a second time, I have some words to write about her. Just needâŚto 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. Youâre noticeably going through the same feelings I did (youâre not subtle). You wouldnât understand most anything but youâd understand not being comfortable in your body at the absolute least, certainly. I wouldnât tell everyone your old name, that you were born a boy, so donât tell my coworkers the truth. I didnât do all of this just to be dismantled for not being a âreal cogâ 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 Iâd also prefer if you didnât go through this book again).
Then I suppose I will send you this as a note. Suppose itâs finally time to talk to him again, since heâs the only one I know who also knows you. I better not regret this. Itâs the very start of Maypril. I hope heâs not already fused with DaveâŚ
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 didnât want to talk to him but he didnât 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 suitâs pockets. His brianbots shifted anxiously. What was the problem nowâŚ?
Brian shook his head, he wouldnât deal with them.
âI must head out, jockeys, I will be back long before days end, thereâs no way a small trip to the Brass and Shipping District will take that long.â
ââŚWill it actually be you this time?â
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.











