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[b][u][center]The Love of Toys[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]Part 1[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For Taiko[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

“…Yes. Perfect.”

Chris smiled as he picked up a wild-looking stallion figure from the line of other figurines on the shelf, carefully holding it by the weighted base and turning it around. It had a few little knocks along the bottom where it had bumped into the other figurines, but other than that, it was in pretty good shape. Craftsmanship wasn’t the best, but that was to be expected for a toy line that was made for a half-step above combo-meal toys for kids.

He turned it back and forth, taking in the details like the scabbard on the back and the loincloth that the figure wore. It was part of the whole Wild Warrior motif, the series entirely focused on the different warriors, heroes, rogues, and villains that wandered a wasteland of the future. They were lonely, so very lonely, most of the time, but he had plans for this one.

Chris smiled as he turned it around, looking down at the tan-furred stallion’s face. It looked so stern at the moment, but he knew that was because it was in ‘action pose’, that the character itself was quite a bit kinder, not to mention sillier, than that.

Kind of like him, in some ways.

“Mr. Magpie?”

Chris jumped slightly at the quiet voice behind him, jerked out of his thoughts by the quiet man. He turned to look back at the clerk, blushing.

“Sorry. Got a little lost in my own head. Do you know who this guy is?”

“I believe the figure is called the Stallion of the Sands.”

“Yes, that’s his title, but he’s got a name, too,” he said, looking down at the horse as he walked up to the front desk. “You see, they keep spelling it out as clues through the storyline, but they don’t outright say it. Guess that they never wanted to ruin the whole mystery in the marketing, but you see, it’s really cool. It’s meant to be –”

“Pardon me, Mr. Magpie, but are you buying the figure or not?”

“…Um, yes. Sorry.”

“$20.”

Nodding, he put the figure down on the counter and pulled the bills from his back pocket. Not much in the wallet today, he had to admit. The bills had just come out, and the royalties from the latest book sales weren’t coming in until next week, but he had that much for an indulgence. At least it’d be something to tide him over.

Still, as the clerk started bagging up the figure, giving it the proper bubble-wrap for transportation and everything, he couldn’t help but feel slightly shot down. The whole thing about the show’s representation of that stallion had been…well, something of a masterpiece of storytelling, in his mind. Yeah, most of it was kinda crap, but the way that they had pulled all those clues together had been the writers having a lot of fun with a silly idea and seeing what they could do with it.

As a writer himself, he appreciated that sort of work, and he was always eager to nerd out about it. Unfortunately, most of the people that were around when the urge struck, like the clerk, like the various people that he used to hang out with, tended to be…

Well, annoyed was a bit of a weak word for it. They started to avoid him, almost like the nerding out was a disease that they didn’t like. He had tried to hold it back, but he kept getting so interested in something, so shocked at some piece of creativity that he had to talk about it. It just…burst forth, and it didn’t matter how hard he tried to hold back, how much he tried to stop himself when he saw the eyes of his friends, his dates, everyone just start glazing over. It didn’t matter. It just kept going.

He took the figurine as the clerk handed it back, and he shook his head.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Have a good day, Mr. Magpie,” the clerk said, bobbing his head, pushing up his glasses, and going back to his inventory work.

He left the shop, cradling the horse figure in his hands as he walked down the sidewalk and beside the river-walk that ran through the city. It was something of a cool feature, allowing some nice, soothing breezes through the city when the summer heat was on, which it was now. He liked to take some time to walk by it, going by the lake at one end before turning towards his apartment. It tended to be a good thing for him, because it allowed more decompression of his brain than just going straight there.

And these days, there was a lot of compression going on.

He looked down at the wrapped-up horse, smiling to himself. This wasn’t just a purchase for fun, though he admitted that it was the most expensive figurine purchase that he’d made in the last few months. This was also part of the business of story-telling, and he had a pretty good plan for this one.

“After all, you’re special, aren’t you?” he muttered, tracing the horse’s face through the bag and bubblewrap. “You’re not just some warrior in that show. You’re not just the Stallion of the Sands.”

It was well-coded in the show, something that he had appreciated more than he had really anticipated. The stallion had been presented to them as someone that didn’t really have a name, just a role. It felt familiar at the time, something that was meant to build up a mystery, he knew, but it had turned into more than that.

He remembered every scene, every little moment where the stallion had come close to finding someone that might have known who he was, what he had been. It wasn’t even just an amnesia story, though. It was finding out what he was beyond his role, what he was past his job.

It was a story of self-discovery, and more importantly, self-definition. Not just finding out who you are, but who you define yourself as, and why.

“You’re us,” he muttered, giving the figurine a gentle stroke as he walked down the sidewalk. A couple of bikes passed by, going the other way, and he shook his head as he held the bag a little tighter. Just in case. After all, sometimes the bikers were a bit too quick, and a bit too careless. “And that makes us awesome.”

When he reached the end of the river walk, Chris paused by the lake. It wasn’t a huge piece of the landscape, more of an enlarged pond than a proper lake, but it still helped beautify the area. He’d come down here a few hundred times to try and feel better about things, and the water, the calmness, the everything about the water features had helped to no small degree. He walked down to the little stand of trees that bordered the water, leaning against one of them as he watched the surface of the lake, just watching the water ripple and wave as the wind blew over it.

It was something that worked for him. Something that allowed him to just…relax, to throw his thoughts away for a bit and just be there, enjoying the scenery. It made him feel like the characters in his stories, just staring off at the sunset. He didn’t need to brood, didn’t need to think. He could just be for a bit, and sometimes, that was what everyone needed.

Unfortunately, it also meant that he started to relax, and considering that he wasn’t thinking or paying attention, that meant that he lost his grip on the wadded-up bag with the horse figurine in it.

He noticed, too late, that it had slipped from his hand and was rolling down the slope. Chris gasped, chasing after it.

“No-no-no-no-no!”

Throwing himself into a slide, he almost rolled down the hill towards the water, his arms outstretched, his fingers grasping for the edge of the bag. He coated himself in mud, he almost grabbed it –

But then it hit a bump, went into the air, and fell in the water.

Chris stared at the shimmering plastic just a few feet away, the river current seeming to pick up and carry it further into the depths. His mouth hung open as he just watched it get taken away from him, shaking his head slowly as he realized that he might as well have just thrown his twenty bucks into the water. It was a strict rule to not go into the water, considering the various chemicals that had to go in to clean it regularly, and he knew that it would already be eating through the plastic bag.

[i]Fuck…fucking shit…[/i]

He slowly sat up, feeling a tear come to his eye. He tried to wipe it away with one arm, but another came up after, and then another, and another. He groaned, shaking his head as he tried to keep from crying like some little kid, but it was impossible.

“Goddammit…”

A little whimper escaped, and that was it. He covered his eyes with one hand, snuffling softly. It was an overreaction, and deep down, he knew it, but that had been the one thing that he had been wanting for weeks. The one thing that he had been dreaming of getting. Small? Yes, but when you had a shoestring budget and nobody was paying you that much for your books, every small indulgence had to count for something.

The Stallion of the Sands was the every-character, the way into the story and the world. His successes were the successes of the people, and that was…

That was everything.

[i]And I just lost him…[/i]

He felt like he had done more than just let himself down there. He felt like he had let down everyone that had been watching the show, as if, somehow, he had been entrusted with the spirit of the character and he had completely blown it. It made him feel like even more of a loser, and even more of an overreacting child, and he slumped forward, slapping his palms against his forehead.

“Stop it…stop it…”

Chris knew what he was doing. He was spiraling. It was something that he did every single time that something went wrong, going right into that horrible circle of self-blame and self-hate, telling himself how he was so fucked up that he couldn’t ever get it right, that people were right to leave him be and ignore him. Even when he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t stop himself.

It was just a toy, he tried to tell himself, but no. It wasn’t just a toy, it was a toy that had cost him the money to eat more than ramen for the next week. It was the toy that would have helped him script the next half-book that he had planned. It was…

It was something that represented him, and he’d lost it like so much trash. Just like he probably –

A loud ‘pop’, like a bubble from beneath a bathtub, came from just ahead. Chris blinked, knowing that there were no pipelines under the lake, and he knew that the bag had been sealed tight enough that there hadn’t been enough air in it for something like that. He looked up, and his eyes widened.

Breaking the surface of the lake was a creature that looked almost like a whale shark, with speckled blue and white skin, smooth and almost a bit slimy looking. The creature had surfaced from the waist up, and he was bare-skinned, his eyes soft and dark, his face split by a slight smile.

“I see that there is another come to my lake,” the creature said.

“What…how the…oh, god, are you a lake spirit?”

The creature blinked, leaning back slightly.

“You know what we are?”

“Well, no, but I’ve read so many books about different spirits, and other fantasy creatures, and – oh wow, you’re big. You’re really big. And muscular. Wow. Do you work out?”

“…”

“Oh sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean – did I offend you or – oh god, I’m rabbiting. I’m rabbiting again. Fuck. Fuck…”

“No, not at all. I’m…flattered.”

He blinked. Another surprise, another little moment of shock. He looked at the whale-like being’s face, and saw that there was a hint of pink on the cheeks. Why – the compliment? Was that really – oh wow.

“I haven’t had anyone tell me that they thought I looked…big. Or muscular. Is it that noticeable?”

“Uh, duh? You’re swol, big and huge and – wow, you look like you could be someone that beat down demons every day of his life. You’re so…so strong-looking, and so…you look kind. The eyes. It’s gotta be your eyes. They see things, they see what is good and what is –”

“Oh, hush, young man. You’re going to make me red and white instead of blue and white if you keep this up.”

There was a definite smile on the spirit’s face, though, which made him feel a bit better. At least he had made someone happy with his rabbiting around rather than offended them. That was always a good thing.

The spirit swam a bit closer to the shore, leaning against the muddy bank. Somehow, the chemicals didn’t seem to hurt him, but that said, he was a spirit, wasn’t he? He was someone that had to live there out of the physical world, and that meant that he was here for a reason. Spirits tested people, right? That’s what Chris remembered from most of the books that he had read. They came to different people and tested them, pushed them, saw what they were made of before giving them judgment.

He had a feeling that he was going to fail whatever test that this might be.

“My name is Oury. Do you have a name?”

“Um…Chris. Chris Magpie.”

“Ah, a collector?”

“…Heh…I guess so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It suits you. The magpie has always searched out things that nobody else values, and found that they are treasures all the same.”

“Well…”

“You will find your life made better if you admit what you are. Being true to yourself, rather than denying it, will always bring greater happiness.”

“Well, being true to myself has chased off six different boyfriends, so far.”

“Ah, I see. Nevertheless.” Oury shook his head. “But that is a different lesson for a different time. I felt something shift in the waters.”

“Yeah, I, um…I dropped something. Sorry.”

“Be not apologetic. Be honest.”

“…Huh?”

“Allow me.”

Oury lowered one hand under the water, and he began to pull something up. For a moment, Chris thought that he was just going to get his figurine back, and he held his breath in anticipation.

Instead, Oury lifted a golden figure from the water, one about the same size as the Stallion of the Sands, but made of pure gold, untarnished, unmarked by time. It was in the shape of a leopard, beautiful and golden as the sun that reigned above the Savannah, and wearing what appeared to be the gear of a plains-ranger, squatting down like he was sneaking about.

“Did you lose this figure of gold, young Chris? Or…”

Once more, Oury reached down beneath the water, all while Chris was half-entranced by the figure that had been put before him. The golden leopard was not just beautifully made, but it looked like it was actually made of gold. It looked like something that he could have found in a museum, some ancient artifact or idol rather than a mere figurine.

And it was probably worth millions.

“Or did you lose this figure of chrome?”

Something silvery and reflective was brought from beneath the water next, one that was shaped like a zebra. Softer-looking and yet more masculine in its own way, the chrome figurine was more recognizable. It was someone else from the same franchise, though dressed in armor rather than a ranger’s gear, and with the reflections, there was no doubt that it was Zakra, the zebra warden of the Tall Rocks. Beautiful as the leopard, it, too, looked like something that could have been sold for millions, either to a museum or, more likely, to a private collector.

“Or…”

And then a final figurine came up. The same one that he had bought that day, a little damaged from the water, but not nearly as much as it might have been. The stallion had been worn down, looking positively pitiful compared to the other two. Chris almost felt like a loser for having been so proud of getting it.

“Did you lose this one?”

There wasn’t even a description of the figure in Oury’s voice, and Chris winced inside ever so slightly as he tried to keep a slight smile on his face.

He was being offered two amazing figures and one that had been worth less than twenty dollars, and now was probably not even worth one. Either of the other two could have made him rich, but they…they weren’t his. They weren’t the one that mattered. And they weren’t what he had lost.

He pointed at the stallion.

“I lost this one, Oury. Sorry for messing up your lake.”

“I told you already, young man. Don’t be apologetic. I’m happy to have met someone that is so honest in their dealings.”

Oury leaned forward, offering the stallion figurine to him. It was only then, when the great whale spirit leaned closer, that he realized that he didn’t have a body at all. It was made of pure water, a construct of the fluids of the lake. That was why nobody would have seen him, why he was so hard to find. He was literally the lake itself.

Realizing that he’d need something to shield himself from the chemicals in the water, he pulled off his shirt and turned it inside-out to keep the mud from damaging the horse figure further. Chris held it out like a basket –

And was almost pulled into the water as not one, but all three figures were dropped into the shirt at once. He yelped, stumbling forward a few steps, his toes almost dipping into the water before he could bring himself to a full stop. Oury chuckled.

“I apologize. I forget that they are heavier than they look.”

“O-Oury, you…I didn’t lose those. They’re not mine.”

“They are now.”

“But –”

“Whether you listened when I demanded honesty or whether you merely are an honest person, you did not try and take what wasn’t yours. So, I may reward you with gifts.”

“Oh, you’re that kind of spirit?”

“What do you mean, that kind?” the great whale asked.

“Um…generous? Kind? Appreciative of the good things in mortals? Loving to those that deserve it?”

“…You will make me blush again, Chris.”

“Heh…sorry.”

“Now, go. Go and enjoy yourself.”

And with that, Oury disappeared, splashing back down into the lake proper. He half-expected the whale to come up with one last warning, but he never did, and Chris made his way back to his apartment.

#

“It is here that we must call them,” Chris muttered, bobbing the gold figure of the leopard up and down as if to imitate him moving and talking. “If we cannot call the spirits here, then we can’t call them anywhere.”

“But we’ll be exposed here,” he had the zebra figurine say, moving him just as he had done the leopard. “Anyone could come and see our lovemaking.”

“Have you no fire in your blood?” he said for the leopard, or ‘Gold’, as he had taken to calling him.

“I never have. My blood is cool, save for in your presence, my old friend,” he said for ‘Chrome.’

“Then let me heat it again…and we shall breathe life into the desert once more…”

He smiled to himself as he looked at the pair of them. The dialogue was a little flowery, but he always worked better with figurines to help him act out the different things that were happening. The writing got edited down later after he had a chance to think about it, but this was his medium to get the muses to work.

The stallion was kept off to the side for now, someone that could watch and be part of the show if needed, but for the moment, was more an embodiment of himself getting into the whole thing. Chris did his best to keep from doing too many self-insertions into his various worlds, though there were times when it was all but impossible. The isekai novel that had gotten him on the map had been like that, and he rather hoped to avoid having that happen too often in the future.

Particularly with the upstairs neighbor.

He shivered as he remembered the mockery that he’d gotten the first time that he got back from cashing a check. He had been happy as could be, and then he saw [i]him.[/i] Nigel Roster, the upstairs neighbor, the local lawyer that was doing entirely too well for himself and had picked this place to live when the housing market completely collapsed. The stuck-up ass of a man that seemed to find it more fun to mess with people than to help them, and the one person in the apartment complex that seemed to have made it his personal reason in life to make Chris miserable.

He’d been sitting there with the new novel that Chris had just put out, under a pen name, of course, and had been flipping through it. The neighbor had looked up as Chris has come home from the bank, nodded at the novel, and smirked.

“So, that’s what you’re doing when you’re playing with dolls? Writing stupid adventures?”

The mockery had only gotten worse from there, and he had taken to whispering the lines between the figurines ever since. He didn’t want Nigel to start making his life worse, and he didn’t need for the books and the sales to start turning into some sort of blackmail. Hell, Nigel might take it further than that if he ever got successful, going to different people and saying what he did for inspiration.

If there was a way for that to get more humiliating, he was sure that Nigel would find it, and so, he did his best to keep a low profile, to keep quiet.

Shaking his head as he felt his hands shaking, he pulled back from the table and put the figurines further towards the far side of it. He needed a short break, just to calm down and steady himself.

He went to the kitchen, getting some water before pulling out some bread and making a quick peanut-butter sandwich. Nothing extravagant, but then again, nothing in the apartment was. He couldn’t afford anything extravagant. There was no money in extravagances.

Leaning against the counter, he nibbled down along the sandwich until it was nothing but crumbs. He’d want something more later, but he usually did. He made enough to survive, to occasionally treat himself, but never enough to be completely satisfied in the kitchen. He had hopes that the next book would take it that little bit further, to give him something that would keep him going at more than a subsistence level, but…well, he’d have to finish it first.

Chris sighed. Maybe he’d be better off selling the –

No. No, he was not selling the figurines. At the very least, not yet. Gold and Chrome – yes, Chrome, not Zakra, as he’d seen a few differences between the two the last time he looked – were gifts, and gifts did not just get sold. Particularly not precious, beautiful ones like that, which were so wonderfully made.

[i]If things get worse…[/i]

They’d have to get a great deal worse to make him give them up like that. It felt almost like a betrayal, like he had given up on something wonderful for something mundane. Chris shook his head. No, for now, at least, they’d stay here, and only if he was going to be kicked out, or something equally horrible, would he even consider selling them.

Thus decided, he made his way back to his living room –

Only to see that the figures were no longer…figures. They were standing tall, and while they still glowed a bit with the gold and chrome colors, they were no longer bound by their metal features.

Gold had finally stood up, and while he was the shorter of the two, he was definitely the most rambunctious of the two. He grinned with a wide smirk as Chris stood in the doorway, idly fondling himself while looking back at the zebra. Chrome, on the other hand, looked rather genteel, less focused on himself, his head tilted back with a degree of nobility.

“It seems that our true forms have surprised our new companion,” Chrome said.

“Well, he’s not used to magic.”

“He writes the scene as if he is.”

“Well, look at him. Obviously he doesn’t have any. He doesn’t know how it works. Hell, he probably didn’t think it was real.”

“…I…you…are…real?” Chris managed to squeak out.

“Obviously,” Gold said, rolling his eyes.

“Manners,” Chrome said, shaking his head. “I apologize. We are new to speaking, though we have lived for nearly a week, now.”

“You’re…just…a week…”

“He’s going to faint,” Gold said. “Guarantee you, he’s going to faint.”

“I would wager that he does not. Perhaps two rounds?”

“Fine. Two rounds he faints.”

“And I say he does not.”

Chris had no idea what they were talking about, but the gentility and warmth of Chrome was something that was just soft and comforting enough to make him feel better about being shocked in the first place, and the slight crassness and normality of Gold was enough to link him back to the real world rather than feeling like he had fallen into a fantasy story of his own. He was able to take a few deep breaths and stay on his feet, and that seemed to settle the bet between the two figures.

“Dammit. You win,” Gold muttered.

“I figured that I might. He seems made of hardier stuff than he looks.”

“Who…what…are you?” Chris managed to say.

“I am Chrome.”

“And I’m Gold,” the leopard said. “I’m not sure how many times we’re going to have to go over this with him. He’s lucky that he’s cute.”

“Patience. He will understand. Besides, we are opening a different world to him.”

“Not…Wild Warriors, right?” he asked.

“It is the world that you have written, Chris. We are here for you, and we will continue the scenes that you imagine.”

The scene. The leopard and the zebra turned to each other, and the words that he himself had said began to spill from their lips again.

“It is here that we must call them,” Gold said. “If we cannot call the spirits here, then we can’t call them anywhere.”

“But we’ll be exposed here. Anyone could come and see our lovemaking.”

“Have you no fire in your blood?”

“I never have. My blood is cool, save in your presence, my old friend.”

“Then let me heat it again…and we shall breathe life into the desert once more…”

The same lines that he had said, the same things that he had imagined when he was putting them through their paces as figurines. God, the way that they were leaning into each other, touching one another, feeling each other as if they were in the middle of making love already. The way that Gold touched Chrome’s armor, the soft looks of love and affection and even lust that were building between them –

And then it stopped. They turned to look at him, and Chris blinked a few times as he realized that they were waiting for something.

Gold flicked his eyes back at Chrome, and then at Chris, but the human was completely stumped. He slowly shrugged, kinda helpless.

“We need lines,” Gold said.

“What?”

“The scene? What do we do next?” the leopard asked.

“You’re asking me to…direct?”

“Would you prefer to participate, instead?” Chrome asked.

That question left him so shocked that you could have knocked him over with a feather. His mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to come up with an answer, his eyes widening, every little possible way of looking surprised that one could imagine.

Chrome chuckled, shaking his head.

“I think that we need to take him back to the bedroom. He might be able to answer better with his body than he can with his mouth.”

“Like I said, he’s lucky he’s cute.”

He found himself being carried backwards through the apartment to his bedroom. Despite still wearing thick plate armor, Chrome didn’t clank the way that he thought that the zebra should, and the overlapping bits of leather on Gold didn’t do anything of the sort, either. He found himself unable to resist, and quite honestly, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. For all that he had kept the self-inserts to a minimum, that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to be part of the fun…

And this was the first time that he’d be able to do it with people so far out of his league, too.

They reached the bedroom, and Chrome and Gold seemed to lose their clothes almost as if by magic. It might have been; he didn’t see them get undressed, and yet, suddenly they were naked. The fact that he was looking up at a pair of rising cocks that were both well above the human average got his attention, as did the…well, smoking hot was still a bit of a way of underplaying just how sexy both of the animal-folk were.

He reached up, rubbing his hands along their thighs as they smiled down at him. Gold was six-foot-nine, Chrome was seven-foot-three, and they both towered over him, feeling like giants compared to him. Their warrior muscles were thick and hard against his fingers, and he shivered as he imagined what they might be able to do.

Chrome gently laid a large hand against his chest, slowly guiding him backwards. He shivered as he felt the gentle, smooth sensation of something that was both flesh and metal at the same time, oddly erotic in a very inhuman way. As he laid on his back, Gold hopped on the bed, straddling him.

“You a switch?” the leopard asked.

“Um…I think so?”

“You think so. Come on, you know the terms.”

“Yeah, but…you know…not much experience.”

The leopard rolled his eyes playfully, looking over his shoulder. “Hey, Chrome. Why don’t you get his ass warmed up, while I see if he likes being ridden?”

“A good beginning to getting to know each other,” the zebra said with a small chuckle, lowering himself to his knees.

“Wait, wait, you’re kidding, right?”

Gold just smirked, and Chris could only blush as his pants were gently slid back, his cock dragged out, and –

“Ah!”

And a slippery tongue slid just between his cheeks. His cock started rising as Gold reached back to catch it, squeezing it just behind the head and rubbing it between his cheeks.

“We don’t kid, Chris. Now, let’s see what other scenes we can…inspire…”

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: A young geek buys himself a treat in the form of a new figurine, planning to use it for some story writing. However, after dropping it in a lake, a whole new set of possibilities reveals themselves.

Tags: M/M, M/M/M, nudity, affection, human, leopard, horse, zebra, whale, muscles, modern fantasy, magic, rimming, series, transformation,