• Closed • Malaise

[Mal]

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Ashan 1st

The shuddering thrum of boots drummed against the cobbled stones, puddles from a recent rain sploshing every-which-way as several pairs of feet collided. They were after something. Someone, clutching to his breast a load of ill-gotten goods; jewelry, from a vendor on high up the hilly marketplace. As they chased, Mal ran, little bits and bobs falling from him to the ground as his tattered cape billowed in the wind.

What he saw was a split in the road, and far to the right an alley. A quick glance back confirmed he'd ran way ahead of his pursuers, driven by Obsidian Panther juju--he echoed that ease of breath, so he ran longer with little exertion. A common tactic, yet it could not account for a lone witness. A small child, a teary-eyed girl looking left-and-right as if awaiting someone who did not come. She stood right outside the alley, clutching her stitched-smile dolly stuffed with straw, her face a blackened pit of dirt with a little bit of 'her' shining through.
What do I do!?

Thinking quickly Mal swiped her body aside, snatching her up into his chest, a pearl necklace snapping in the moment as he covered her mouth and disappeared into the alley. She dropped her toy as he stepped into the shadowy droll of that dead-end place, a bin of rotting wood his visual refuge.
"Mmnnhmnnn!" the girl whined, barely and possibly seven.
"Shh!" Mal shushed her.

The little one flailed in his arms as he sat against the wall, but Mal knew the guards would have asked her where he went. He just couldn't risk it, though he felt like dirt for restraining her like this. It lasted only a few moments before he slowly let her go, hearing those footsteps grow fainter in their furious march, splitting off into an echo of searching this place called Midtown.
"I'm sorries," Mal whispered, his hands falling away.
"Barnacles!" the girl shrieked and wailed, the droning noise piercing the Becomer's mind and prompting him to dismiss his animalistic hearing.
"Not sah loud!"

Only, the girl didn't seem to care about the leather-clad teen whom had just snatched her off the streets. She was more interested in her doll, and by the way she gathered up the trodden-upon bits of fabric and wrecked hay, Mal instantly felt like he'd committed a crime against humanity, something unspeakably unforgivable. He raised his hand only to clench it with a grimace as she sobbed.
"Hey, I'm sorries-"
"Www-wwwh, Barnie, Barnacles is dead! He'll n-never b-b-be the same!"

Blinking his startling citrine eyes, Mal huffed deeply and walked up to the girl, kneeling down and dropping a silver chain around her neck that he'd lifted moments before.
"'Ey, 'ya like pretty things?"
"NO!" she screamed at him.

He felt the pangs of guilt pulling on his heart, so he took hold of the doll. "Let me fix him," he said, stooping to her level of imagination when he knew it was just make-believe. To her it was very real, right? "I'll take him to a doctor, he'll be good as new. Then tomorrow you can come back, and he'll be happy to see you behind that bin, okay?"
The girl looked up at him with restrained rage brewing behind her teary orbs, but she nodded. "O-okay..." she reluctantly gave up the doll, and Mal took it gingerly into his ring-adorned fingers, smiling upon it despite how terribly worn it appeared.
"Aye'll take good care of 'em. Tomorr'ah, 'ight here, 'aight?" he assured her.

The two exchanged a nod, and Mal slowly raised from his kneel into the sunlight, cradling that piece of canvas with a face upon it. She watched him leave with that heart-wrenching, forlorn stare.
Where the fek am I gonna find someone to fix this thing?
An' I got the guards after me 'n stuff.
Some horrible person 'ya are, Mal? Eh?

But of course he found it, given several Breaks. In the dead of night when he'd nearly given up, the other stores saying they wouldn't dare fix the thing in a night. A toy shop, and by the looks of it filled with creepy dolls! He tried the door, and it creaked open ominously.
"'Ey!" he called out into the shop, looking around at all the horrible things staring at him.
"'Ey I got this doll, here, need it fixed 'ternight, by tomarr'ah morn'."

The Hyx-eyed young boy looked like a deer in the lantern light as he stood there in that foreign-looking raiment of leather, but he seemed desperate enough with his eyes wide and filled with worry that he might get turned down again. He was about to hold one of these business owners hostage just to get them to fix the troublesome thing!

[Leech]

90th Vhalar, 716

"Girl!" Master Caprice called from the front of the shop. Leech was in one of the many aisles, righting some toy soldiers that had been knocked about by some tubby boy. She stood up slowly, finishing her work before coming to the front of the shop. Master Caprice was wrapping up a purchase for the woman that was in front of him in brown paper. He finished folding the paper before he realized that he did not have the twine he needed to tie the parcel. He turned around to get a strip. In the meantime, the paper unfolded, revealing the doll inside. The client folded her hands beneath her breasts, clearly irritated with the process. Leech read out to set a hand on Master Caprice's. She took the twine and went to finish his work.

"That will be 25gn. A bargain for a one-of-a-kind creation." Master Caprice always liked to tout his own work. Leech would have done the same. She believed each one of his toys was special with their own unique flaws. Each had their own personality too, but she did not go about flaunting her knowledge of that. The plump woman pulled a coin purse from between her bosom. It made Leech thankful that Caprice was taking the money. All that sweat probably moistened the coins a bit through the leather. It was disgusting to carry money in that fashion. The woman handed over the nel before tucking the pouch back into her breasts. She said nothing as she made the transaction. Leech pulled the twine under the paper and the doll, folded the paper, and tied the twin in a neat little bow. The shop assistant lifted the gift and gently handed it over the counter where the woman snatched it and started to head away.

This doll would be abused. Leech frowned at the thought. If she was correct, the daughter would be very much like her mother. She would pull at the hair roughly with a poor quality brush. The horsehair would fall out in strands or clumps depending on the aggression level of the child. Her dress would get dirty within trials. Leech lowered her head onto the counter, slumping as she watched yet another doll go into the world to be destroyed.

"They are toys girl, not people. They are meant to be broken." Master Caprice stated bleakly. Even he felt a little sorrow knowing that his masterpieces would be destroyed by a child. Leech did not respond. She would much rather have people be broken and the toys be pristine.

----

Another break had passed. Master Caprice had left to head home. Since she lived above the toy shop, she went left to clean up and close up. The sign had been turned around to say 'CLOSED' but she had forgotten to lock the door. She was sweeping when the tinkle of the door bell rang. Armed with the broom, Leech turned around to find a young boy standing in her shop. With muddy shoes. On her clean floor.

"Master Caprice fixes dolls. I clean. He is not here." She approached him slowly, holding the broom tightly to her chest. Although her emotion was not suggestive of fear, her body position was. She stopped when she was two steps or so in front of him. The radius was too small to get him with her broom in full swing, but she had no intent to attack him. Instead, she extended her hand in hopes that he would give her the doll. If she was allowed to inspect it, she might very well be able to do something about it. She was the shop's assistant. By now she would have learned something to help this young man.