t o r n / a p a r t

   If Foxy wasn’t seething, shaking with rage before, he certainly was now. His eyes glowed this a brighter intensity and growl that came was unmatched by his previous ones. He wanted to lunge at her. Clamp his jaws around her damn face and BREAK it; tear her body to smithereens and leave her as a junk heap on the floor. That was all she deserved. 

   "DON’T ACT LIKE YE DON’T ENJOY HAVIN’ ‘TIS SPOTLIGHT WHILE WE ROT! I KNOW YER LYIN’ TO ME, 'N IT AIN’T GOIN’ TO WORK.“    Truth be told, Foxy didn’t even know what to say anymore. Her words had struck him right at his core. He knew, past his rage and denial, heartbreak and spite, that she was right. It really wasn’t her fault when it came right down to it. Not hers or the others. It all boiled down to the humans who ran this place. He knew that.    But his blasted pride would never let him falter. He swiped at the hook she held with his own hooked arm, sending it flying across Kid’s Cove. Try to imitate him now.    "Just ye wait. Ye’ll be gettin’ what ye deserve soon enough…” He finally turned his back to her to leave. He head straight for the hallway but before he exited this mockery of a Cove, he hollered a few final words to the vixen, “'n when that day comes, I pray I be thar to witness it!”  

Had she pushed her luck?  Would her words end up pushing him to the breaking point and lead him to attack her?  Toy Foxy certainly felt like that was the case.  It took everything she had to stand firm- to face potential MUTILATION with some dignity.  Rowdy children could only do so much damage.  They didn’t have the teeth and claws and rage that Foxy did.  Recovering from this would be a lengthier process- if she COULD recover at all.

He shouted at her.  His arm came forward.  Her golden eyes quickly shut out of impulse.  Waiting for the briefest of moments for whatever agony would come.  But it didn’t come.  The hook was knocked from her hand, clattering harmlessly on the other side of her Cove.  She opened her eyes once more, watching him cautiously as he made his last utterances, his movements to FINALLY leave her alone.

“Hmph.”  Foxy wouldn’t faze her anymore.  His warning only came from a place of JEALOUSY.  Though she hadn’t forgotten how well-founded that place was, it made any foreboding words he had for her utterly meaningless.  She began to move as well, walking over to retrieve the fallen hook.  It was stowed back in its hiding place in the back of the Cove, where she picked up her detached hand and popped it back into its joint.  Once more she looked to the Cove’s entrance, any trace of her visitor now disappeared from sight.  One last sentence murmured to a pirate that was no longer there to listen.

“What we deserve is a break from your nonsense...”

And a break did come.  Those were the last words she and Foxy exchanged for a few weeks.  The other originals would harass her and her friends from time to time, but nothing quite so personal as that night had been.  It was a quiet, more restful life for Toy Foxy.

At least that’s how it would be before every SUNRISE...

She wondered if there was anyone before her who had to go through what she did.

To be pulled apart into pieces by dozens of hands grabbing at you all at once.

To be put back together that same day.

To go through such a thing over and over and over...

Life left its scars on Toy Foxy.  Her left eye was almost constantly more dim than the right by now, her joints hurt and would sometimes TWIST a wrong way...even her voice box had gotten scratched and glitched every now and then.  A soft static would sometimes escape past the words, too.

Far less tangible were the scars on her MIND.  Even if she could be put back together, she would only have to go through it again later.  Such a traumatic existence had worn on her.   She could occasionally feel the sensation even when it wasn’t happening to her.  Her friends supported her, but...they didn’t know.  They didn’t know what this FELT like.

It was on another quiet night that she stared at the walls of Kid’s Cove.  Sitting silently.  She wondered if there was anyone before her who had to go through what she did.  Wondered if this would be what her life was like forever.  Wondered if the staff- or even the kids- would eventually stop caring about her.

   He growled when she vanished into another part of Kid’s Cove, getting more angry thanks to the tone she was starting to use with him. She reappeared shortly after, now with a hook for a hand just like him. That was insulting enough, but now her speech had changed and she spoke with the same pirate accent.

                                       That was far too low of a blow for him to take.

     So she not only was a smart ass, but a real BITCH to match with it perfectly. She truly was no different from the rest.

  “Well aren’t ye just some special little vixen…” There was even more venom in his tone than ever before. “Ye really think something like ye could ever be like me?”

   A heavy step was taken forward, eyes locked on her own. “I promise ye, lass. Ye will never, not in a million years, be like th’ original Cap’n Foxy. ‘n I be lookin’ forward to th’ day when ye fall apart on stage in front ‘o all them kids ‘n be cast aside fer parts. Just. Like. Me.”

Perhaps it had been a hasty move to show off this particular FEATURE of hers- her ability to simulate the classic pirate experience that may have scared some kids but delighted others.  But she didn’t care one bit what he felt about it.  She couldn’t bring herself to- not then, when she was face-to-face with that malicious attitude of his.

Her right foot slid back slightly when he approached.  Was he...INTIMIDATING her?

         No.  No, she couldn’t let herself be intimidated- not NOW.  If he got the better of her here, when they were alone, she’d NEVER be able to stand up for herself again.

“A million years is a long time t’ wait, cap’n.  Luckily for me, I ain’t needin’ that kinda time fer somethin’ I ain’t even DOIN’.”  Now she took a step forward, still holding eye contact with him.  “Tis the same story fer all yer crew!  Goin’ on about how ye be the best there ever was and thar can’t be nobody like ye.  I can’t speak fer me mates, o’ course, but have ye ever thought that perhaps I ain’t TRYIN’ t’ be like ya?”

She took another step- seemed she was growing bolder.  “All I been tryin’ t’ do is enjoy me JOB, ye blasted ol’ sea dog!  Entertainin’ the lads and lasses, like ye used t’ before they- the people RUNNIN’ this damn place- decided ye needed t’ be replaced!  ‘Tweren’t no decision o’ mine to leave ye to rot, yet here ye are treatin’ me like I be the Devil himself, only here till I be struck down by whatever karmic forces fuel those twisted hopes o’ yers.  I get why ye ain’t exactly HAPPY, but we been takin’ too much attitude from yer lot.”  The hook of her hand raised up between them.  “So how ‘bout this: either ye start spewin’ yer bitterness at the ones what be deservin’ of it. or you could just-”  Toy Foxy once again gripped her hook, pulling it off so she could complete the sentence in her original tone- three words shouted purely out of exasperation, words that held a staggering, harsh finality.

    “Hoho be that so, lass?~ Ye want some tail?”

    Great, not only was her very existence a mockery for the once proud fox, but it seemed his replacement was a SMART ASS to boot. He growled at her reply. “I didn’t come here on PURPOSE.”

    If he were in better shape, he would have assaulted her right in that very moment. He swore the more he even LOOKED at her the more he despised her. His golden eyes examined her model. The amount of white and pink was ridiculous, not mention the giant pink bow on her neck. And the LIPSTICK and LASHES. He’d have deactivated himself if he was forced to look like such an atrocity. Then again that was how ALL the new ones looked. If he could, Foxy would have thrown up in his mouth.

    He caught her fiddling with her right hand, as if trying to fix something with it. That little detail was more than enough to get his attention and find a way to hopefully get under her ‘skin’.

    “’n what be th’ matter wit yer HAND, eh? Ye already startin’ to fall apart like th’ CHEAP PIECE ‘O METAL ye be? ‘tis place barely even got started ‘n look at ye!”

    He pointed with his hook. “I reckon in no time flat ye’ll be wit’out a hand at ALL.”

    And it served her right. It served them all right.

There was that vitriol again.  The almost irrational, unceasing HATRED the old bots seemed to hold for her and her friends.  Sure, she felt sorry for them- she pitied the unfortunate state they were in- but she was no saint.  All the prodding and venom had to wear at her nerves eventually.  She didn’t want to feud with them.  She also didn’t want to put up with their crap.

Damn him for noticing her trying to fix her hand.  What business did HE have with her state?  She was fine.  She’d always be fine.  Even if her hand joint had messed up a bit, they’d fix her.  She’d just keep it as it is and not exacerbate the potential issue anymore.

...Or maybe it was time to put a pirate in his place.

“For your information, it’s just a bit stuck.  Nothing they can’t fix in the morning.  But if you’re so eager to see me fall apart...”  Holding an even, deadpan glare with him the entire time, Toy Foxy grabbed onto her right hand once more, thumb and pinky wrapped around the wrist, and gave a quick tug.  Like a cork from a bottle, the hand came CLEAN OFF from where it had just been.  A quick wince from the vixen was the only reaction she offered.

Remaining silent, she turned her back to the older fox, walking over to another part of the Cove, where children weren’t allowed.  She knelt down, setting down her hand and picking something up in its place.  When she stood and turned back to him, her remaining hand now held a HOOK, so much like Foxy’s own.  She slid it into place over her dismembered wrist, a CLICK! indicating there was no issue.  Her left eye seemed to flicker a bit as it came into place.