fandomtownies | Blackstone Foundry and Forge, Thursday

It had been Sorry, yesterday, that had snapped Fjord out of it.

It had been the constant humiliation of being bumped right back to where he'd started, of feeling so, so useless compared to everybody else. Of speaking in his actual accent with a tuskless mouth because good toys didn't hide who they were from anybody, especially not their nearest and dearest. But good toys also made concessions about who they were, hid away the monster they had always been, so that everybody could be happy.

It had taken feeling small. And it hadn't happened right away. Had festered yesterday after the game for the longest while, screaming inside his head about why that had hurt so much, all with a little, half-painted resin smile.

And then, once he was home, once he had been out of the sight of anybody else, once it was safe again to lie, even if only to himself, one word had escaped his lips in a low, pained drawl:

"Fuck."

Today he was at the forge, though. Bright and early. Smiling that resin smile. Prepared to swallow that little bit of strength and dignity that using Vandran's accent had been giving to him this past year so that nobody would mistake him for a bad toy.

Setting to work. Swinging a hammer. Keeping his head down. Feeling small. Being small.

He was a miniature, after all.

[OOC: Oooopen.]

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Well, this should be interesting. Diaz had stressed to Amaya the importance of just acting like everything was normal, but absolutely nothing was normal, and Amaya was absolutely rubbish at acting like anything but herself (gremlin bites and Fandom weirdness and brainwashing and vampireism notwithstanding). So she thought, the less interactions she had with anyone, the better, and she should probably just play it safe and slip out the back door from the apartment, buuuut....it was just Fjord, right? Shouldn't be too big an issue, maybe it'll actually be good for her to try and test the waters before heading out, and, if anything, she could just bolt.

It was normal to head downstairs with two mugs of coffee. And she needed to act like everything was normal.

So there she was, with two plastic mugs of nothing because there was no coffee, but it was the thought that counted? Coming down the stairs into the shop with her normal chipper, "Morning, Fjord!"

So, so normal...

"Morning, Amaya," Fjord replied, glancing up from the... was it a plastic horseshoe? That he'd been swinging a tiny lego hammer at. His accent was decidedly more British today than usual. No dirty lie of a drawl from this toy, oh no. "Sleep well last night?"

He hadn't! He was still screaming inside!

Well, that accent was...something to process, and Amaya blinked a few times.

Maybe she should have gone with her gut and just slipped out the back from the apartment after all. They probably already had a nice corner of that Toybox all prepped and ready for her, really.

"Er," she said, eloquently, "like a log."

Which was the honest truth, actually. This was a woman who slept through goblins stealing her bed from right underneath her. Sleep was never elusive to her in nearly any circumstance.

"I trust you can keep an eye on the shop and all today?" she asked. "Seems like a good one to, er...run some errands."

Fjord nodded a little. Lowered the hammer and stared at it quietly for a few moments, letting himself process this situation. Terrified, somewhere deep in his guts, that doing anything but what he was asked would be the end of it. Of him.

"As long as you need, Amaya," he said, turning a smile her way that looked genuine enough.

Nothing like a ridiculous charisma stat to really sell it, right?

"Anything you'd like me to take care of while you're out?"

Maybe it was just because Amaya'd been staring down the business side of endless hammering all week, but that answer had a rather cryptic, unsettling bent to it, now, didn't it?

As for the question, she barely managed to hold back a snort.

"Just mind the forge," she said, hitching a thumb over her shoulder that way, toward the nice little molded plastic flames with gently glowing lights underneath. "Don't let it get out of control and burn the place down."

Zounds, she was so bad at this. She was doomed.

Unfortunately, to go with that high charisma, Fjord also had totally balls wisdom. You were safe with him, Amaya. Even if he hadn't come around last night already.

"... I can't imagine that'll be terribly difficult," he noted. And then paused. And added, "It will absolutely be my deepest pleasure."

Like a good little toy.

.....

....noooooope.

Nope, nope, nope.

Amaya didn't care what your charisma was, Fjord, it was definitely not nearly high enough to make that not weird.

"Right, then," she said, slowly backing away toward the door, with caution, as if half-expecting the weird to just take a flying leap off of Fjord and get all up on her again and she started hugging all over the place again. "Busy day. I'll just be on my way. Try...try not to have too much fun in here, Fjord."

And that brought her to the door and out of it, and then she realized what she said, so her head popped right back in.

"No, wait," she amended. "Do have too much fun, Fjord. Have all the fun. So much fun. You better have all the fun you can possible have, and that....er...is, uh, boss's orders."

She nodded.

That sounded convincing, right?

...she was doomed.

And also gone. Before she made things even worse.

Fjord watched her go.

Looked at the hammer in his hand. Looked at the forge.

Looked around for squirrels.

And then leaned his head back so he could stare at the ceiling and once again, under his breath, mutter a very quiet, "Fuck."

Blackstone Foundry and Forge, Thursday

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