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

Part 6

For Taiko

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

Oury wished that he could poke his head out of the water and check for any sign of Black coming back, but he knew better. It might be late at night, but that only meant that there was a different sort of crowd around the lake. It wasn’t safe to poke his head out just yet, even with all the power that he had at his disposal, even with all his creations. It wasn’t safe for him, and more importantly, it wasn’t safe for them.

The great spirit hunkered down in the water instead, frustratedly blowing bubbles through his nostrils into the water. Nobody would know that they came from him; he sat on a cluster of pipes for just that purpose, allowing his breathing to mix with the bubbles that leaked through the metal tubes. He shook his head, feeling the metal bending against his body, not quite denting, but not entirely happy with his metaphysical weight, either.

He shifted it a bit, moving so that he was half-standing, half-sitting in the depths of the artificial lake. It was less comfortable, but at least that way, he didn’t make a mess. The lake wasn’t in good shape, anyway, and he didn’t want to make it worse.

“Black, where are you?”

The punishment should have been over and done with by now. The punishing creation had been sent off several days ago now, and he should have been back the same night that he had been summoned. What had happened?

[i]Black…Black…[/i]

The water pulsed around him as he sent out another wave of sound. It rebounded through the lake, then over the surface, through the rain that was coming down. The sound was too low for any human to hear, but he knew that it could travel for many dozens of miles. It spread through the entirety of the city, pulsing with an echo, a ripple that followed behind to reinforce the central command.

[i]Black…Come home…[/i]

The water trembled around him, and the pipes complained again. He was forced to stop to keep from damaging the rusted things, shaking his head as he settled down to the lakebed. Spreading his hands through the sediment, he touched on the little idols and statuettes that were tucked in among the mud.

Jade and amethyst, steel and iron, turquoise and more laid there, made by him over the years. Some were old, some young, and some were just waiting for the final touches before they could be given as gifts to others. Here and there among the collection were little empty spaces where the statuettes had been given away or sent out. Gold and Chrome were absent, as well as Black. Another three were somewhere else, but he knew that they would come home, soon, when their people were better.

But Black’s gap worried him, and for good reason. That particular statuette, that particular snake, that particular creation had never been given the good qualities of the other statuettes. He wasn’t made to be kind, but to be ruthless, to give a lesson to those that deserved it. The kindest thing that could be said of Black was that he knew when to stop, but that was only after a punishment had made its mark. The longer that someone resisted their punishment, the firmer Black got, and when it was done…

Well, there were times when he didn’t recognize what was left afterward. There had been many broken individuals that had brought Black back to the lake at the end of things, and he had always tucked a very untouched Black back into the lakebed.

[i]I made you to punish…and now…[/i]

He tried to tell himself that he didn’t really know what was going on with Black, but he couldn’t make himself believe it. There was every reason to believe that Black was messing with someone, making someone’s life worse because that was the only thing that Black knew how to do. If there was even a modicum of bad behavior, a hint of something that needed correcting, then the snake would be pushing to do just that.

[i]I have to get him back before he hurts someone. Before he hurts someone that doesn’t deserve it.[/i]

He shouldn’t have let him loose. Not for this. Even someone as horrible as Nigel didn’t –

Okay, that was wrong. Nigel deserved [i]something.[/i] But not this.

How to get him back, though? If he wasn’t responding to the song, to the echoing tones that were supposed to summon him back, then that meant that Black had either gotten stronger, or found another purpose that was overwhelming his commands. The voice of the Maker had never failed before, but there was a first time for everything.

[i]Black, I made you stronger than almost anything. You have power, you have strength, you have more focus and drive than anything I have ever made…[/i]

To get the snake back, he would have to counter that, and that meant creating something that was specifically built around the idea of making Black submit. It would be rough, a rush order, but he could do that.

Getting it to Black, however, would be a bit more of a trick, but if he played his cards right…

#

Jane sighed as she looked up at the heavens. The rain had been pouring down for almost two full days now, and the pavement was coated in water. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue, but with her car no longer working, she was forced to take the pedestrian route to and from the grocery store. Considering the fact that she needed both arms for the grocery bags, that meant that she was getting drenched even without cars coming by.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of cars coming by.

After the latest splash that sent shivers down her spine, Jane gritted her teeth and deliberately turned off the sidewalk that followed the road and onto the rough gravel path that followed the side of the lake. She could feel the water running down the back of her neck, having found that one little gap between her rain hat and her coat, and it was already making things uncomfortable and unpleasant.

“Nnngh…”

She shivered, clenching her teeth as the water sunk into places that she really didn’t want it to be. Everything was already wet under the coat, the wind driving the rain every which way, but this was making it worse. Her shirt, her bra, everything was pulled tight to her, giving her that slimy, sticky feeling of her clothes trying to pull themselves around her body every time that she took a step. Her shoes were drenched, her soaks squelching in her shoes, and everything just seemed determined to add to the overall misery for her walk home.

[i]This wasn’t supposed to happen,[/i] she thought. [i]You buy an apartment, you make money, you don’t have to worry about things anymore. That’s how it’s supposed to work, right?[/i]

Not in her case, and probably not for the rest of her life, either. The way that she was feeling, she was pretty sure that she was well on her way to catching a hell of a cold, and she was probably going to end up needing to walk down to the pharmacy and pick up more cold medicine. Getting a ride was out of the question; her dad – the only other family member still living within twenty miles of her – was in the hospital due to some stomach issues, and he was not going to hand her the keys to the car. The only tenant she had at the apartment that might be willing to give her a ride, one Chris Magpie, didn’t have a car or a license, as far as she was aware, so she was flat out of luck.

[i]Don’t you dare get sick. Don’t you dare.[/i]

She sniffed, snorting out a puff of hot air as she followed the gravel pathway. The plastic bags dragging at the ends of her arms were already carrying puddles of water in the bottom, and she just hoped that the other, sealed-off bags would hold for the rest of the walk home.

[i]This just had to happen today, didn’t it?[/i] she thought, rounding one of the curves by the lake. [i]No car, no family, Nigel muttering about taking legal action…what else could go wrong?[/i]

Most of the time, she could take the discomfort and issues of being a landlady in her stride. She had intentionally bought the building for the less fortunate, intentionally kept rents low, knew that it was going to be stressful and that she’d never make as much money as some of the other landlords out there, but [i]fuck,[/i], it wasn’t supposed to be this bad. Nobody else she knew had to go through tenants that intentionally tried to sabotage each other on a weekly basis. Nobody else had to deal with tenants that refused to let the landlord do upgrades. Nobody else had to –

Her heel came down on a rough bit of gravel, and suddenly the world turned around under her. She stumbled forward, almost tumbling head over heels. One of her bags went flying, arcing through the air before getting caught on the end of a branch, dipping down almost into the water. Jane groaned as she pulled herself to all fours, rubbing some of the dirt off her cheek as she stared at the dangling bag.

“…You’re kidding me…”

With the apartment building only a few blocks away, she was tempted to leave the bag there and go on without it, but a quick check of the other bags confirmed the worst. That one had all the herbs and spices that she needed for any of her food to have any flavor, as well as the limited painkillers and medication that she had been able to pick up at the store. Leaving that there would be the most expensive bits lost, and she didn’t have that much money to throw around, really.

Grumbling under her breath, she carefully put the other bags down. She tied them off, ensuring that they wouldn’t get any wetter, and slowly crawled down the bank to the tree. Jamming what she could of her heels into the muddy bank for leverage, she leaned down the branch, holding it tight. The top of the bag dropped down a bit, some of the lake water rushing in, and she gritted her teeth.

[i]This cannot get any worse. I swear. This cannot get any worse.[/i]

Crack.

[i]…Oh, now you’re just screwing with me.[/i]

CRACK!

Jane screamed as the branch gave way, dragging her right out of the mud and towards the water. She braced herself for the chemical burns that would follow…

Except none occurred. She opened one eye, staring with utter shock as she realized that the branch had hit something underwater, bracing itself against whatever it was. The bag had come loose, yes, but it was somehow bobbing back in her direction, floating like a little sailboat through the water before coming to a halt right at her feet.

[i]…Okay, luck. Now…could you just…stick around a bit? Please?[/i]

She slowly edged herself back up the broken branch. The minute that she let go, the big thing slipped, falling the rest of the way into the water. The knowledge of how close she’d come to a hospital trip of her own was horrifying, but she shook her head and reached down for the bag. It was heavier than she expected, but that was probably the lake water. Not wanting to mess with that without some serious glove protection, she carefully tied the bag off. It should be fine with the plastic and glass bottles for a bit, and when she got home, she could fix it.

She set off, wondering just how she’d gotten that lucky.

#

[i]That was harder than I remember…[/i]

Oury shook his head as the branch slipped further away, barely paying attention as the acids and worse in the lake started to eat through it. The whale shark spirit hadn’t planned for it to break, but it had offered a marvelous opportunity when it did. Manifesting part of himself physically enough to actually brace it and hold it, keeping it from sinking in, had both saved the woman on the other end [i]and[/i] given him the chance to put his hunter in her bag.

Still, the effort of both creating the new statuette and making himself so solid rather than merely inhabiting the water had drained him. He needed rest, and he needed to hope that this would work out for the best. At the very worst, his new hunter was out in the world. At best, it was going somewhere close to where Black had gone.

[i]Hunt well, and bring him home. Home, before he can hurt anyone else…[/i]

He already regretted what he had done to Nigel. He hoped that he didn’t have cause to regret anything else. Oury felt the tiredness slipping through him, and he drifted back down to the lakebed, tucking himself in among his creations. He felt them ever so slightly reaching out to him, and he reached back, gently caressing each one before he slipped into the land of dreams.

#

Jane grumbled as she tilted each bag sideways, letting the rainwater run down her sink. It carried off about a third of her veg, and the fruit was going to be lucky not to be rotten by the morning. The sealed-up meat would be okay, but that was about the only good thing. The stuff in boxes? Well…she’d find out how they were in the morning, when she had to start picking through them.

The other bags finished and separated, she took the sealed one with the lake-water in the bottom. Thankfully, it hadn’t spilled when she brought it up the stairs, and she just hoped that everything was still in decent shape. She did [i]not[/i] need to be out that much money.

Slipping on a pair of rubber kitchen gloves, she set the bag in the sink and carefully undid the knot at the top. A little hiss filled the air, and she dreaded what she was going to find inside. She leaned forward, biting her lips…

And blinked.

There, among the mostly untouched spices – the only bottle damaged was the sage, and that had been a bargain brand anyway – was a little statuette. It looked rather lovely, almost like polished steel – no, like polished silver, she corrected herself – and it was shaped like a lion. Rather lean, too, rather svelte rather than muscular like on the cartoon shows.

She carefully withdrew it, half-expecting it to be damaged, but there were no marks or chips or anything along the feline statuette. Tilting the lake-water down the drain, she turned on the sink, letting some fresh water run over the silver. It gleamed beneath it, and she carefully washed it clean of the little bits of sediment and worse that clung to it.

[i]How the heck did you get in there?[/i]

Jane made sure all the lake-water was washed off before turning off the sink. Pulling off her gloves, she brushed the back of her fingers against the silvery thing. No injury, no burns, so she let herself touch it properly, carrying it away from the sink to the dinner table for some better lighting.

The statuette was reasonably tall for something that looked like it was made out of silver. Rather fine silver, she thought, realizing that it looked better than the usual silver spoons put out for dinner. Not much in the way of alloys there, she imagined.

[i]Thank you, Discovery channel documentaries,[/i] she thought, tapping the statue. [i]Fine silver, I think…won’t hold its shape that well, but it’s pretty.[/i]

The lion figure itself was well-dressed, too, particularly compared to the more barbaric things in Chris’s apartment. She remembered how most of them were rather under-dressed, usually wearing either little in the way of clothes or wearing only the stuff useful for combat. This lion, on the other hand, was dressed up, looking almost a bit fancy. He even had a suit, something that looked rather well-tailored to him. She had a little passing memory of an old movie of a hitman in a suit, and was surprised how much that actually fit the look that the statuette had.

That said, she didn’t recognize him from anything. Then again, maybe she just didn’t know the source material well enough to get any kind of reference. She wasn’t much of a TV person these days.

Shaking her head, she turned around, grabbed some paper towels, and turned back. Jane paused, cocking her head to the side.

She could have sworn that the statuette had been facing her when she had turned around, pointed right at her from where it sat at the center of the table. Now, it was halfway towards the edge, and it was facing towards the door.

“…I’m more tired than I thought, apparently,” she muttered, folding up the paper towels. “You just stay there while I get you dry.”

Patting the statuette gently, drying off the little droplets so that it was more of a polishing rub than a full drying session, she made sure that anything that might have left a mark behind was completely removed. The silver lion looked like a lovely figure, but she didn’t know what it was supposed to be. It might be worthwhile as a decoration for now; seemed a little bit wrong to take something like this down to the pawnshop, even if the silver would probably be worth quite a bit.

[i]It’s not mine, anyway,[/i] she thought. [i]Even if I found it, it doesn’t belong to me.[/i]

She decided that she’d talk to Chris about it tomorrow. If nothing else, he could tell her where it came from, what kind of show it was meant to reference, that sort of thing. He seemed to have a head for that sort of knowledge.

[i]Not that he uses it for much else,[/i] she thought with a rueful smile. [i]He has so much talent and creativity, but he’s never getting anywhere with it. If he could just finish a novel instead of those short stories, he’d probably do well enough that he could go somewhere better than this place…[/i]

It was the downside to having the cheap housing that she provided out here. Sure, it gave people a place to get on their feet, but she swore that they were utterly terrified of success. All of them paid rent, yes, but they were always barely making it, despite the fact that she [i]knew[/i] that they were better than the jobs that they found. The guy on the second floor that was a part-time janitor at the library? He could run numbers that made her head spin, and could probably have made it as a teacher’s assistant at the local college, if not a professor. The young man just out of high school on the third floor, near the stairwell? He might work as a grocery store clerk, but she knew for a fact that he was a wonderful violin player. He could probably get gigs across the country, if he managed to market himself right.

She lived in a building full of potential, but nobody was harnessing it. Nobody was channeling it. Nobody was doing anything with it. That alone annoyed the living hell out of her, because she just wanted to see them do better. She wanted them to have that opportunity, to find that way forward. This place was supposed to be that stepping stone to a better life, but most of them were so petrified of what would happen if it went wrong that they just…settled.

She sighed. Even Nigel had a [i]chance[/i] to be better. He wasn’t dumb, and he had some talent in law. If he just pulled his head out of his ass…

Well, he was so unpleasant that he’d never go far, but he’d at least be a lawyer. If he could just be that little bit better…

She sighed, shaking her head as she looked at the lion statuette. It was just bright and shiny enough that she could see herself in it, and Jane smiled despite herself.

“Well, at least you can reflect a little optimism. But no more moving around.”

Carrying it to the little shelf that held her books over the couch by the balcony, she leaned back and stretched her neck out, rubbing the back of her head against the wall. It wasn’t comfortable, but she needed some sort of support, and the couch was just short enough that it didn’t cushion her head properly. She looked up at the statuette, pointing at it.

“Now…stay there.”

[i]Talking to inanimate objects, huh?[/i] she thought, looking down at the TV as she turned it on. [i]I’m more tired than I thought…[/i]

#

The next few days passed in a blur. If it wasn’t one tenant throwing a fit because of a plumber replacing a long-standing half-busted toilet with a model that he didn’t want, then it was another issue with her father in the hospital, or something involving Nigel talking about looking into legal options for this, that, or the other, or a noise complaint or –

Suffice to say, there were many issues that took up her attention, each and every one of them something that made her too distracted to do anything but look at the little statuette in the morning and again in the evening. She kept telling herself that she needed to do something to take care of it, but every time that she told herself that, the reasoning disappeared by the next morning.

It wouldn’t have bothered her that much, except she was starting to feel that someone was walking around her apartment whenever she left. She found her cleaners and polishers and rags all over the house, almost like some mad maid had come through and left as big a mess behind her as whatever she’d cleaned. Worse than that, the trash heaps continued to grow, including with things that she actually wanted to keep. It was always something different, always something that could have been trash but wasn’t.

What was going on? Hell if she knew, but it was starting to creep her out a little bit.

Three days after she’d discovered the statuette, she came back from another visit to the hospital. She was beaten down, worn out, and she was not in the mood for any more shenanigans. Jane opened the door, and stopped as soon as the door was all the way open.

The little silver statuette was right there, sitting in front of the door like a loyal puppy. The lion figure stared straight ahead, the pose he had – one with his arms behind his back and his head slightly tilted backwards – unchanged, but she knew for a fact that he had been on the shelf near the balcony just that morning. Why would someone have moved him right there unless it was specifically to mess with her?

She slowly closed the door behind her, shaking her head as she knelt down by the statuette.

“Who keeps doing this to you?” she muttered, looking the lion in the eye as she picked it up. “Why would someone keep messing with me? I do good things. I keep this place comfortable. What would anyone have against me?”

There was no answer from the lion, not that she really expected one. Instead, he just stared at her, his eyes as empty as ever. She shook her head, carrying him back to the resting place. As she put him on the top shelf, she looked him in the eyes one more time, pointing a finger at him.

“Stay. I mean it.”

Sitting down on the couch, she sighed, pulling a notebook from her jacket pocket. She flicked it open, pulling out a pen.

“Got the toilet fixed for Jerome. Got the TV sorted for Kyle. Got the…thing…done for Daniel…”

As she crossed items off the landlord to-do list, she could already feel the other requests getting more and more intricate and inconvenient. There were all kinds of things that needed doing to keep the building up to code, and she didn’t know where she was going to find all the time to do it. She needed a week off to start making any real headway into this thing, and it was getting harder and harder to find the time.

She needed an assistant, or a volunteer, or something. Someone that could make sure that this all got sorted while she got the other things in her life under control. All of this was too much for one person. Even when she’d had help, she had barely kept up with this and her own life, and now?

Well, now, she was just barely holding it all together.

“…Make a copy of the master key,” she remembered, writing that down. “And that’s…”

She fumbled for a minute or two. Eventually, she found it, pulling it from her jacket pocket. Nodding, she put it into her shirt pocket, over her chest.

She didn’t have an assistant yet, but she’d need one, and that assistant would need a copy of the master key. She’d need to get that done tomorrow, and then start putting up ads, or something. Where she’d find the money for an assistant, she didn’t know, but she needed one, and soon.

That was something else to add to the to-do list. Talk to Chris, figure out the statuette. Then she needed to start putting security cameras around the place. She hated the idea of someone hacking them to look in on her private life, but she needed to know who was moving her stuff around. Even if it was on some level benevolent – and the things that happened were almost always on that level – she needed to know who was doing it. First, to thank them, and then to have a restraining order put on them. This was getting creepy.

Jane rubbed her eyes, feeling the day’s exhaustion creeping up on her. She knew that she still had more to get done, but she could barely keep her eyes open. Sighing, she pulled out her phone, setting an alarm for thirty minutes off, before slowly rolling down onto her back. The couch wasn’t that comfortable, but she was too tired to go to her bedroom.

As she closed her eyes, though, she swore she heard a groan of annoyance, and stranger still, a voice.

“[i]Why did she have to put it there?[/i]”

#

Thunk.

Jane opened her eyes at the sound of a door opening and closing, one that was close enough that she realized that it had to be her door. Sitting up, she glanced across the room and realized that the door was just barely ajar, that the little chunk of metal that would have held it shut had been held open, bouncing off the doorframe.

“…”

She pushed herself upright, glancing almost out of instinct back at the silver statuette’s resting place. It was gone, as she half-expected, but –

[i]No, no way. There’s no way that it’s actually moving on its own. Someone might have come in and stolen it.[/i]

If that was the case, she was honestly almost inclined to let them leave with it. Everything that had happened since she’d gotten it had creeped her out, and she would have been happy to see the back of it. Yet, at the same time, she knew that it probably belonged to someone else, and she was pretty sure that someone else wouldn’t have tried to steal it.

Groaning in her sleepy, somewhat befuddled state, Jane slid on a pair of slippers and made her way out of her apartment. Following the sound of footsteps about a flight of stairs ahead of her, she sped up, feeling for –

The master key was gone.

Her eyes widened as she picked up the pace, starting to run down the stairs as she fumbled her cell phone free. She tapped out the numbers for the police, but didn’t hit dial just yet. It might be a mistake, but she wanted to see just what was going on. If this was a tenant, then she had some leverage, something that she could use to try and sort out the situation before the cops would escalate it. If it wasn’t…

Well, she’d see them before she hit the button, and she didn’t want to call them prematurely.

She realized that they’d gotten off the stairs by the open door beside the next landing, and she followed them out. There was a brief hint of something silvery and fluffy down the hall before a door opened and hid the figure. She picked up speed, running down the hallway until she reached the door that the figure had disappeared into.

[i]Chris’s place?[/i]

Well, on the one hand, at least she’d have back-up. There was no way that figure had been Chris. One, he was too respectful to actually try and invade her space, and two, he wasn’t in possession of anything that shiny. She shook her head; at least this would finally be solved, and she’d be able to ask him about the damn thing.

The door wasn’t even shut. It was like the stranger didn’t even know how to work them properly. She pulled the door open –

CRASH!

Only for a mug to hit the wall and shatter six inches from her head. Her eyes went wide at the ceramic that stuck to the wall and fell to the floor, and her eyes went wider still as she saw the source of the thrown item.

Standing in the middle of the room was a tall silver lion, the exact same one as the statuette – if much taller and, well, moving – and a taller, moving copy of the zebra statuette that Chris had shown her before.

And they were fighting.

The lion was flowing almost like liquid across the zebra, spreading along a thick limb that was wrapped around the feline from behind, and it looked almost like the lion was flattening out around the equine’s body, smoothing himself over it. Her mouth worked soundlessly, her own professionalism the only thing that allowed her to step through the door and shut it behind her rather than running off thinking that she’d gone completely mad.

For every inch of – flesh? Metal? Fur? It was hard to tell – that the lion covered, the zebra seemed to find a different hold to pull the liquid feline back, pulling him free only for the silver fluid to slide forward again. It was a constant tug-of-war that seemed to have no clear winner, with a tie inevitable…

Until the lion started slowing down.

She watched as he was gradually pulled back, balled up, and then shaken out, the zebra holding him by the scruff of his neck. There was something to the motion that made it a little less of an arrogant posture, though. It was more like someone holding a recalcitrant child at arm’s length, and it was…surprisingly relatable in its own way.

“Chrome?”

That was Chris, she realized, and it was coming from the bedroom. She cocked her head to the side, leaning around the confrontative pair in the living room. The zebra looked back at her, shaking his head with a slight smile.

“It’s handled, Chris. But, heh, we might have a different issue.”

“What’s the matter?”

“We have a guest.”

“Another one?”

“Yes, and this one is one of yours.”

[i]One of his?[/i] Jane thought.

“One of mine?”

“Come see,” the zebra said.

Before Jane could say anything, Chris stepped out of the bedroom, followed by a golden feline. Their eyes met, and his mouth fell open. Worse, he blushed. Why, she didn’t know, but she was starting to piece a few things together.

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh,” she repeated.

“…Oh,” they said together.

“I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for you to find out that they were – I mean, you know, real. I didn’t think that it would matter. They don’t really eat, and they are – well, you know, statues most of the time and –”

“…You’ve been having…relations with them, haven’t you?”

“…”

“So, the vent sounds…”

Yes, that explained the blush. It got worse, too, and she could feel her own cheeks starting to heat up in response. She groaned, rubbing her face a few times.

As she tried to find something to say, anything to get past the sheer awkwardness of the moment, she looked back at the fine silver lion hanging from the zebra’s fingers. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, and suddenly dripped down, almost like he became liquid and slid through the zebra’s grip. He reformed properly, clearing his throat.

“You will not manhandle me that way again, Chrome. I am not to be touched that way,” the lion said.

“Heh, well, you come charging in like a bat outta hell –”

“Hardly. Obsidian has no class, nothing but sharp wings.”

“Maybe, um, introductions are in order?” Chris said.

“Please,” Jane muttered. “Introductions, and MUCH needed explanations…”

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

Summary: Oury has been very unsuccessful in getting Black to come back, so he puts together a plan to hunt the other figurine down.

Tags: No sex, lion, zebra, feline, human, metal, magic, modern fantasy, whale shark, series, development,