/o/

[dustless]

//justletmewindemonthatcomesgeneral catchall post for Toy Story AUs since I love that shit

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[dustless]

Immediately after she disappears in and out, the microwave they're standing in front of shrills.

They grab a pot holder and pull the little pack of cheap lasagna out. They're hungry, but the other stuff they watched her drop on the couch looked fancy, so they don't want to get sauce all over their new whatever-it-is.

Mom's getting her own stuff in order and they're back in their room in less than a minute, setting the food and barely-open container on their flimsy endtable and sitting on their bed hard enough to bounce the box (and their pillows) up a couple inches. They really hope it's not a...a...ceramic thing.

It's hard to open the thing, 'cause there's tape and they haven't got many sharp things. They don't feel like going out in the kitchen to get a knife, so there's some creative fiddling and pencil-puncturing to solve the problem instead, and then they've triumphed over the now-slightly-mangled box.

They're far more careful once they reach inside, brushing the packing peanuts aside and gently fastening their fingers around the sheet and the object before they lift it nearer to their face.

...

Pulling the wrapping down, their brow furrows at the face they're staring at. It's kinda weird.

[ideaofjustice]

His kidnapper seems to have returned.

There's a jarring thump as something big and heavy lands next to Yuri's container, bouncing him and it into the air. It's enough to send his adrenaline through the roof, but there's no pain when he lands. The... packaging, seems to have done its work. But why would this NEXT package him up like some kind of teacup?

Because he is packaged up, and he can hear his kidnapper scratching and ripping at his container. Yuri doesn't know exactly what they have in mind but when light breaks into the container, he braces himself for a confrontation.

"You have made a foolish decision in challenging me. Prepare yourself for the consequences."

...Yuri thinks. Some sudden instinct leave the words to die unsaid as a warm, giant hand wraps around him and lifts him into the air. His body goes limp. One of the giant's fingers brushes aside the sheet he's wrapped in, temporarily obscuring his vision with skin.

It's so bright, after the darkness of the box, that it takes a moment before he can make out the enormous face of a child before him, looking at him with no small amount of confusion.

Oh. They're not big.

He's small.

(Frisk may notice a card buried in with the rest of the packing peanuts. All it says is LUNATIC - "Where there is darkness in the world, I'll be there to snuff it out.")

[dustless]

Before anything else, they glance towards the doorway. Mama, why in the world did you get them this?

...At least the doll looks cool. It's a lot less frustrating to tug him out of the wrapping completely, letting his arms and legs drape over the edge of their hands.

He feels weird in their hands, weighing wrong. They slant their hands left and right, using their thumbs to keep him from sliding off onto their crisscross-applesauce legs. Mostly cloth, but the circle things on his...gloves? That's not soft like his body and limbs, and it proves itself to be plastic once they tap a nail over it. Same when they test his face, a good plastic with a nice paint job. They were told everything their mom brought home was custom made, though they're not really sure why someone'd want a doll specifically like this.

They stretch out a hum as they consider him further, and it's then that it occurs maybe he's got other stuff with him. The card's the only thing they find, which is the slightest bit disappointing, no sword or staff. He looks like he should have something magic.

Silently, Frisk mouths the words as they read them. Odd name along with the look.

Now that they know he's not made of something that'll shatter if they do anything wrong, they plop him and his card on their pillow. They can play with him more in a little bit--right now, they're going to dig into their meal before it gets cold.

[ideaofjustice]

It's surprisingly easy to remain limp in this child's hands, allowing himself to be rolled gently back and forth, even if he feels uncomfortable being scrutinized like this. Part of him wants to try swatting their fingers away when they start tapping their fingernail on his face and wrists, but his overriding instinct is to let the child assume he's just a peculiar toy.

Instinct isn't everything, but he has a feeling this child is an innocent civilian, one with no responsibility for his current circumstances. They're just too obviously confused and when they start to hum, it further confirms that they're not the same as the woman who was speaking earlier. Is she the one who inexplicably disguised him as a doll?

(If Frisk could see through his mask right then, they might realize Yuri is as befuddled as they are.)

-Then the child's attention drifts back to the box he was in. Yuri lets his neck flop to the side so that he can get a look for himself. It's hard to make out, but yes, it seems he was being kept in a box full of packing peanuts.

The child reaches in, and picks out a piece of cardboard that Yuri hadn't noticed earlier. Under the mask his brow furrows, trying to make out the words they're mouthing out. Whatever the message is, it seems serious.

Abruptly, he's set aside along with the card onto a pillow. The child turns their attention to a table nearby, away from Yuri.

Once he's sure they're not looking at him, Yuri risks sitting up and looking around the rest of the room.

[dustless]

The room's obviously to Frisk's scale--giant to him, not overly impressive to someone their size. The walls are a dull blue, a few small cracks running up and down the paint, revealing that it used to be off-white. The bigger cracks have pictures taped over them--magazine clothes they want, posters of robots of all kinds, though the most prevalent are ones posing like they're models--one humanoid and pink, one boxlike and closer to silver.

There's a pretty large window that looks over a street, though he can only see a sky streaked with smog and the top of a greystone building on the other side. There aren't any curtains, only blinds with a few shades broken off. They've decorated it with a vase full of yellow and blue flowers they've found growing in cracks around the streets.

There's a desk yanked straight from some old office, covered in dents and scratches. There's a computer perched on it that looks surprisingly new. An older lamp is hooked on the edge, looking like it's about to fall off, and an action figure of some gryffon thing made of blue and clear plastic stand on to.

As for the bed itself, the pillows he's on are unremarkable, the blanket's covered in a rainbow of stars, and the whole thing is pressed against a wall on the right side.

The endtable they're leaned over has a small drawer on the side and--where he can't yet see it--a small digital clock flashing red on the top.

Frisk realizes about halfway through the package that they've entirely forgotten to get a drink. With a small sigh, they slip off the bed with the lasagna in hand, ambling out of the room to the kitchen again.

Their footsteps are soft. There's a TV on in the other room, playing indistinct commercials.

Otherwise...the entirety of the apartment is silent.

[ideaofjustice]

In many ways, if you discount the size, Frisk's room is probably what most people would consider normal. But it strikes Yuri as shabby, especially in comparison to his own carefully maintained home, and the obviously childish decor such as the posters and blanket... It makes certain, hard to identify feelings stir within him.

At any rate, he doesn't recognize the neighborhood or at least what he can see of it.

He flops back onto the pillow the instant Frisk stirs. He still doesn't want them to realize what he is, and he waits a few beats until they've left before sitting up again.

The quiet just sets him on edge, and Yuri's very careful to move slowly to his feet- walking on a giant mattress feels incredibly peculiar- and pad around the bed, gauging how easy or difficult it would be to climb down at any point. He also gives the griffon thing on the desk a brief stare; something about his current size makes it look a lot more real to him than it should.

[dustless]

There's clinking noises from the kitchen, and then more beeps. Frisk's deciding to make some hot chocolate, in the microwave, naturally. They definitely use too much powder, spilling some, but it's not like anybody's gonna stop them. It's an easy clean.

The bed's not too high--it is a child's bed, after all--and the star blanket easily reaches the floor; not a far climb at all. There's also a toy airplane discarded on the bare wood floor, somewhat dangerously where bare feet could step on it...

And as soon as Yuri redirects his attention to the griffon thing, it moves.

Not a lot. Just a twitch of tiny plastic wings, and re-angling the head to take him in, showing off the snowflake shape it happens to be.

And then, somewhere below--suspiciously near the fallen airplane--a voice comes: "Ugh! Of course as soon Mom gives them a gift, they put it on the bed. N-not that I care or anything!"

[ideaofjustice]

Under the circumstances, Yuri hides his shock relatively well- he gasps and tenses as the creature looks over at him, but at least it's a quiet gasp. It's alive? But no, there's a distinctly plastic sheen to the creature- perhaps it's a robot. ...Disguised as a child's toy. The situation only grows more peculiar.

"Ah-?" Slowly and carefully, Yuri moves towards the edge of the bed and glances toward the airplane. He can't see anyone, although he's loathe to take his eyes away from the griffon. "You," he calls down, "Who are you? Show yourself."

i wouldn't call those anime rly

[dustless]

Snowdrake's not close enough to hear the noise, but he does notice the doll's attention on him. He decides to make his way closer to the edge, leading to a pair of pops--his suction-cup feet are attached to the desk lamp's base. He knows Frisk is going to be a few minutes, worth the risk. A new toy not bought (or found) by the kid themselves? It's quite an occasion!

"'Ice' colors there, new guy!" he greets, waving one of those undersized wings.

From the floor, Tsunderplane scoffs loudly. "I'm the plane with the great hat! Can't you see with those anime eyes, idiot!?"

Somewhere else in the house, a woman speaks--sort of. It sounds less like a sentence and more like a single word and a grunt. Frisk doesn't answer it.

A door opens and shuts hard enough to be felt through the floor, and absolutely none of the toys give it attention.

like yuri's one to judge ppl's fashion sense

[ideaofjustice]

Okay. More... robots/toys, or at least that's what Yuri's going with for now. Odd as they are, they at least aren't being particularly threatening right now.

"Do forgive me for not realizing," he says in a tone that is not especially contrite, "But most airplanes aren't quite so... mouthy." And the 'great' descriptive is subjective at best, he thinks, but he refrains from saying so out loud.

As Yuri speaks he moves over to the foot of the bed and takes a hold of a railing. He looks up at the sound of a woman speaking and then- he thankfully doesn't startle much outwardly when the door slams, just holds tighter onto the bed, which is a vast improvement over how he would have reacted when he was younger.

"Who was that?"

snrk

[dustless]

What? Was that...an apology? "Sh-shows what YOU know!" the plane stammers, shifting on wheels.

Across the gap, gleeful his joke wasn't entirely rejected, Snowdrake follows partway--the bed is plenty longer than the desk, of course, and he's not risking a running jump across the gap when Frisk might return any minute.

"Huh...? Oh, who left? That's Mama," he says, wondering what kind of question that is. Who else could she be? "Don't snowflake out! Frisk's still here, and they have the house to themselves now, it's great!"

[ideaofjustice]

With Mama firmly gone, Yuri carefully climbs down the bedspread and hops off onto the floor. It proves a bit alarming- everything looms even more from down here.

Still, he's starting to put more pieces together: "And you two would be Frisk's toys." They look like toys, even apart from the obvious size compared to the rest of the room. So far what seems likely to Yuri is that 'Mama' is a NEXT who can miniaturize things and gives them to that child to play with-

-and has access to robot technology? The plane and Snowdrake won't be able to see it, but Yuri is narrowing his eyes very hard at them, under that mask. "Quite the unusual selection."

[dustless]

"Yeah!" Snowdrake bobs excitedly. "They usually pick up whatever they slip over! Not like you. Where are you from?"

[ideaofjustice]

Yuri doesn't care to actually answer that question since the answer is something along the lines of either a) 'Oh I'm from Sternbild' or b) 'I don't know how I got here.'

"It doesn't matter where I'm from," he says, shrugging in an expansive, ragdoll sort of way. (Rather more so than he realizes, in fact.) "I go wherever justice must be served..."

[dustless]

He's definitely not from any series--of toys or of TV shows--that the 'Drake has ever heard of. "Justice? Are you a superhero? Frisk sometimes likes--"

Speak of the devil, footsteps. In an instant, he flees back to his place on the edge of the lampstand, and the plane below falls onto a wing with a soft tap.

Frisk ambles in with their cocoa clutched in their hands, long since snapping down their actual food. They put it down on their stand, right where Snowdrake had been standing a few moments ago, and leaps onto their bed hard enough to make everything bounce again.

"Friday," they grouse facedown into their blanket. Mama's out. That means they're stuck sorta close to the house tonight, 'cause they're not going be able to ask for money for the bus, and they want to save the allowance shoved in their desk drawer...

...they eventually roll over and notice something missing. Their new Lunatic doll. Where--?

They roll again until their head's dangling off the edge, hair-curtain failing to obscure him from where he apparently fell to the floor. They reach out to pick him up again, scooting back, and examine him again from next to their face. Yeah, still real weird.

[ideaofjustice]

Yuri's not surprised by the wave of bitterness that wells up in him at the strange creature's blithe attitude and he's mentally preparing a biting retort when everyone hears the footsteps. He drops to the floor, hardly even needing to think about it, and when he observes Snowdrake retreating to the lamp stand Yuri feels a stab of concern that maybe he should have climbed back up onto the bed while he was at it, but there isn't enough time before the child- Frisk- enters the room.

Yuri lies on the floor, watching without moving as Frisk's enormous feet move past, feeling the slight shock waves reverberate when they bounce on the bed next to him.

He learns, from their slightly muffled voice, that it is apparently Friday. He is missing work. Whenever he gets out of this mess, he's going to have to explain his absence.

And then all of a sudden he's surrounded by hair and he's being lifted up into the air and now he's face to face with Frisk. His limbs flop boneless against their fingers, and Yuri finds himself scrutinizing them almost as much as they are him.

He's not sure how to gauge how old they are, beyond definitely not a teenager or toddler. They have an ordinary sort of face with their most outstanding feature, at this range, being the peculiar golden brown color of their eyes.

It's a little early to tell for sure, but the toys seemed to like the child. But perhaps they were programmed to feel that way, and that signifies nothing. Oh, and they like heroes, but that's most children, as far as Yuri is aware. He doesn't spend much time with children, after all, outside of that one interview or the rare court case.

He doesn't even like children- they're irrational, and ignorant in the ways of the world, and... Well. He just doesn't care for them. Which makes it all the more perverse that he has to pose as a toy.

[dustless]

They stare at him very, very hard for a minute, rediscovering his weird features. 'Lunatic' does fit this face.

And then--their gaze is still fixed forward, but they're not staring at him, their eyes are a little glassy, just thinking. Again, why did mama get them this? She left the boxes on the couch, and they peeked in one, but there was just a weirdly-designed quilt on top of everything else in it, so they couldn't really get an idea of the rest of the stuff. She probably wouldn't care that much, but Frisk still thinks they should wait a couple days for what she might wanna do with it all, or if she'd notice if they took other things.

They absently move their hand a little bit, watching his arms and odd wrist-circles shift against their skin. On another layer of thought--and maybe a little bit of subconscious superhero-style fondness--they start to think about that darkness-snuffing stuff, and then light, and then they're arcing him through the air.

Where is he? He's in the sky, around sunrise. (There's no fire anywhere.) All the clouds are quite pretty up here, and there are colorful flocks of birds all over. Eventually he finds a mountain's peak, looking at the snow curiously, flying in lower until he just barely skims it, sending powder rippling through the air from the breeze of his own flight.

--But it's a short fantasy. They end it by sitting up and resting him against the wall, matching their position. They have their cocoa to attend to.

[ideaofjustice]

Yuri slides down Frisk's hands and from there it seems only a little surprising to slide into the sky.

He blinks a few times, not sure how he got there, but even with his eyes closed he can feel the lack of ground beneath him and the wind blowing around him. Part of Yuri knows it should be disorienting, frightening, but-

It's so peaceful up here. No noise except for the occasional cooing of the passing flocks of birds, and the air rushing past his ears while he flies through clouds tinted pink by the sunrise.

The land below eventually catches his eye, a mountain peak in particular within easy swooping distance. Yuri wonders just where these mountains are and who or what lives around them, and he's pulled down for a closer look, the powdered snow sent flying, sparkling in the air...

And then he's sitting on Frisk's bed.

What.

...It takes a moment to reorient himself. Yuri's not entirely unused to strange visions but that was. Something else, and he risks a peek up at Frisk. But they're innocently drinking cocoa and providing no answers, so he looks forward over at the griffin thing on the lamp. Did it notice anything odd going on?

[dustless]

Snowdrake provides just as little, a lifeless lump of plastic. There's nothing remarkable about what just happened--he didn't see details, he wasn't involved in this game, but flying fantasies are one of Frisk's more common playtime ideas, and it's not hard to guess with the way they moved their strange new doll. Snowy does spot how Lunatic's head moves to Frisk, back to him, and curiosity rises above the urge to warn him not to move where they can see about the total stillness of his face. Something to ask when there's time later tonight, once Frisk's asleep or out on their own adventures.

It's a peaceful bedroom with a child enjoying a sweet drink. Nothing more.

At least until they finish their cocoa, though they take long enough with slow sips that it's nearly cool in their hands by the end. Then they're on their feet again and...pacing. A little. Peering out the window. The sky is slightly darker than it was before, though it'll be quite some time before true sunset.

Back to the bed, back to him, and then grabbing the card that bounced off the pillow when they jumped on. 'Lunatic'. Frisk doesn't hear that word a lot. "...Crazy." That is what it means, right? They're suddenly not feeling so sure. It's an odd name--though 'Frisk' is weird in its own way, they guess...

They look at him again, then scoop him up one more time before sliding on over to their computer (literally, the floor's smooth enough for it even in bare feet) to look it up. They loosely consider typing with his hand instead of theirs, but that'd take too long.

lunatic define

Absently, they let him hang where he can see the screen.

Yeah, they were right--'crazy', a kind of rude word for it. An old word. "Luna," they murmur. "Moonstruck?" Okay, 'moonstruck' is a word they like better for crazy. It sounds pretty and moonlight stuff fits the quote better.

[ideaofjustice]

It feels strange to be sitting in (companionable?) silence with someone, let alone a child, and Yuri can’t recall the last time he spent this kind of purposeless time with anyone. Admittedly, it’s not entirely purposeless- he’s merely biding his time until he can investigate his situation further- but sitting beside Frisk for several minutes followed by watching them pace around really isn’t how he would normally be spending his time.

(He wonders if they’re waiting for something. Maybe their Mama, since they keep looking outside.)

Frisk returns to their bed, returns to the card that he still hasn’t gotten a proper look at, but which apparently has something ‘crazy’ written on it. Then he’s being scooped up again, and brought over to the computer- at his current size it’s enormous, not quite big enough to be wall-size but still significantly oversized. It holds possibilities, but not while this child is here, and instead he’s left to watch over their research.

Frisk must have recognized him in some way, or maybe there was some information written on the card about him, because they’re looking up the definition of his name. Evidently, their vocabulary isn’t particularly extensive.

Lunatic. Noun. Definition: A mentally ill person (not in technical use). Synonyms include maniac, madman, imbecile, psychopath, psychotic, etc. Further definitions and synonyms and examples are clicked through and explored, until they land on the word moonstruck.

Adjective. Definition: Affected by or as if by the moon: such as a: mentally unbalanced, b: romantically sentimental, c: lost in fantasy or reverie.

If he weren’t pretending to be a doll, Yuri would point out to Frisk that the connotations are somewhat different, and not entirely appropriate for his identity and mission.

[dustless]

The word on its own is cool. And of course this means moon powers is what this Luna should have, and that'll be incorporated into playtime soon enough.

But not yet.

They've gained knowledge, but they're not entirely satisfied, and there's still more time to kill. There's a perfectly okay chair right there, but they end up leaning against the edge of their desk instead to look him over again.

He has a humanlike body, but that face definitely isn't. Neither are the weird disc shapes around his wrists, and they run their finger over the thing on his back--those could be wings that're detachable. Frisk considers tugging it off for a moment, but they remember they've had action figures with stuff like that before, and their accessories are long lost around the house. They don't want to lose it so quickly.

There's a computer right there, only the thought of trying to look him up with more detail doesn't occur to them. They're going to be stuck wondering a little longer.

"What kinda monster are you?" Frisk wonders softly.

Monster...or alien. Alien might make more sense with a moon name, but they like monsters better. He's their monster now.

idk man here's yuri being Dramatic internally

[ideaofjustice]

Yuri slides easily around in Frisk's fingers, letting them poke and prod at him, in spite of how odd it makes him feel. It's not something he can entirely put into words, but it's uncomfortable. Not painful, but their hands are so huge in comparison to his whole body. What if they tried to crush him? Or even did so by accident?

And just what does Frisk keep looking at him for?

The rocking motions of Frisk's hands settle a bit, and then their soft voice slides over Yuri.

"What kind of monster are you?"

Yuri stares up at them. Frisk's hands are merely warm, but inside of himself, Yuri burns. He knows what kind of monster he is. If Frisk is fortunate, he thinks, they'll never get a chance to find out.

Put me down already!

it's very Yuri™️

[dustless]

Not a talkative child at the best of times, alone now, and so their conclusion goes unspoken: a demon. He doesn't fit anything else too clearly (except maybe some sort of fae, but their knowledge is limited to the sort closer to Tinkerbell than anything). There are types out there his face reminds them of, the kind that some people wear as masks in some of the festivals. Oni, they think. 'Cept this one doesn't have horns or the right colors.

Frisk does not put him down. For another couple of minutes, they keep petting his 'wings' and letting their thoughts slide around.

Eventually, they hold him out and 'stand' him on the surface of the desk next to them, supporting him with their fingers beneath his arms. The lamp, the computer, those are the outlines of buildings, strings of light stretched between them. It's deep at night in the best part of the city, and Snowdrake is laughing to the side, sending out a flurry of ice beneath his wings to catch the light even more.

A festival, a party! Just for the sake of it!

But just that. A booming bell from one of the churches on the other side of Frisk's block chimes, and they're pulled from playtime again, jerking their head to look outside.

There's kids who play on the playground, out late where their parents don't watch close, just like theirs. It's time, and they haven't got to go see any of their friends for a while...

For a split second, they consider bringing their new toy. On a second glance, they decide it's too risky. Not going to get him broke on the first day they've got him.

Frisk strides across the room, dropping Lunatic down on their pillow, and heads out. They close their bedroom door behind them, and the door of the apartment follows after they jam their shoes on--though lots quieter than Mama.

The apartment is empty of human life...and there's quite a gap between the floor and the bottom of the bedroom door.

From his place on the desk, Snowdrake stretches. "Aw. That would've been a cool party."