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Present beyond the morally gray lines are many dubiously questionable things. A whimsical sensation of common sense and nonsense, if you will. Reality and fiction melding in an nonexistent in-between of the sorts.
Catnap knows that very well. He’s been present on those lines ever since… well, ever since. A wonderful blessing bestowed upon him by his God.
The large bigger body experiment stalks the halls of the facility with each step. For once, his footsteps not echoing in this compatible form he’s shrunk himself to. Lessens the fear factor, sadly, but it keeps the feisty rebellious ones on their toes. It’s never good to squander all the fun.
The faint humming of a former tune that once rang through his head. The catchy opening of their cartoon when it previously aired long ago only memorized by its music. It fills the silence well. The empty, long-deserted building lost its bright lights and welcoming mood over the time they’ve taken over. Now it’s just sad. Posters peeling off from its places and faint splatters of red dried up on the walls and floor. Nothingness in a place nearly void of life. Nothing but the ominous aftermath.
And that’s what the reverend enjoys.
Before and after their daily sermons, he ventures through the abandoned halls that none dare to explore. Seldom he bumps into some of his fellow critters when they come around to keep watchout or on their own little walk.
Simple patrols after meeting with his God amongst certain matters. Nothing more.
It does give Catnap the time to wander about the little things. The moral code being gray being one of the little things mentioned. Everyone has one.
That extends to the other toys in the facility.
Huggy Wuggy… the being’s an enigma compared to his counterpart. Staying on the surface for who-knows-what.
Mommy Long Legs, on the other hand, is notably one of the morally dubious. Whose loyalty and interests fall outside the wishes of their God. A being whose thinking lost all sense of understanding.
Good riddance. She’d never been faithful to the Prototype, anyways. The ungrateful thing should be lucky he allowed her to live on the upperground of Playtime Co. But He allowed her freedom for a reason, so he let the resentment boil over within time.
The other Smiling Critters are no exception.
Bobby and PickyPiggy have their own worries elsewhere. Preoccupied with their duties before anything else to think about what lies beyond. Craftycorn follows their train of thoughts and keeps the orphaned toys safe within Home Sweet Home. So long as they aren’t disobeying commands when it's needed.
Kickin speaks all-talk with that cocky attitude of his. Despite that, he knows not to step out of line. A chicken will and forever be a chicken — toy or not.
Hoppy is as loyal as can be. She does, however, see that faint flicker of repentance in her eyes. A longing for the past and questions of her own, but she’s smart to keep silent. To accept her role into this new society they’ve made for the Prototype.
Bubba has his questions, but his fear and reluctance to ever speak up about them is what makes him intellectually viable. It’s a lesson learned from his previous… mistake. As long as he knows his place, he lets his fellow critter be. A wise decision.
And then, there’s Dogday…
Oh, silly doggy.
Lovely, admirable, incredibly naive.
(Naive amongst many things. Never about the things within the Playcare’s inner works —heaven’s no!— or that’d be plain stupidity. There’s only so long a fool can last in their care despite their gracious lord’s patience and Dogday is nothing of the sort.)
He likes that about him though.
His former leader of their little group who’s become the black sheep among them. Heretic, the mutt goes by now as an example to those who plan treason against their god. Ostracized for his ideals too… contradicting that goes against what the Prototype has in store for them. Where Bubba’s morality becomes tested over and over to submit his obedience to Him, Dogday takes up the challenge. Stubborn dog he is, it’s always for the sake of righteousness. Even when said righteousness returns him with chains and prison straps bound around his wrists.
A traitor.
The label that comes with his chains.
Nonetheless, a few still treats him well. Whether it’s because of their former connections or it’s his general kindness that hasn’t been squashed along with his happy-go-lucky attitude, who’s to say?
Ah. Catnap flicks his gaze up and finds himself back at the center of Playcare. Artificial sun provided by electricity lights up the entire area. The sun… like him.
The purple cat reaches up for the crescent moon medallion hanging off his neck.
The Sun is bright. He rolls his eyes at the obvious. Slowing his pace down to meet at the center. The younger, smaller bodies experiment that run along gives a greeting in either ‘hellos’ or quick waves.
Yet, fiddling with the accessory, lets the priest link the strange symbolism to his former leader.
(However, in the back of his mind, delving deep enough in the faint darkness of his memories, he’s sure he’s felt these feelings before. Digging deeper and deeper, remembering an everlasting warmth that reaches out to him. Orange hands stretch excitedly for him to take as he welcomes him—)
His walk ends right before he makes a turn to the playhouse. The familiar coincidence of seeing the dog-like silhouette standing by the entrance. Broom in hand and blank expression on his face. Completely opposite to their whole franchise’s agenda.
It only urges him to continue ahead. Footsteps careful to not indicate his return just yet.
Dogday is like the sun. Well, was. The cocker spaniel doesn’t seem to have that pep in his step as he used to. Which is a shame. He’d like more of that from him.
Would he smile at him with that bright, sunny grin?
The thought of it tingles through his chest. A certain giddiness that accompanies the idea in mind.
They’re polar opposites when he thinks about it. Not that he hasn’t thought about it before, but it’s an entertaining thought. It can explain why he’s been interested in him.
There are times the purple feline stares at him. Curious, amused even, at how the shackles around Dogday’s wrists doesn’t stop him from trying. What goes on through his head? Where does his persistence stem from? Why does he resist their Savior? It’s interesting, and irritating.
Otherwise, he just enjoys staring for no reason in particular. Often when he leasts expects it. Watching the realization of being monitored, ears perked and eyes frantically darting elsewhere uncomfortably, brings that kind of thrill.
Just like now. The oblivious heretic unknowingly turning his back at just the right moment for him to strike.
Inching closer, and closer.
And closer—
“My, what a surprise~” Catnap whispers into the canine’s ear.
As expected, Dogday snaps his head with shock, back straightened as he jumps to his full height. Grip tightening around the broomstick handle.
It takes another minute until he regains his footing again. “...you’re back.”
“It’s strange to see you lingering around here beyond your needed time.” Catnap smirks. “Your duties should have been finished an hour ago. It’s unlike you to slack on the job knowing full well of the consequences, yes?”
It earns him an awkward glance, frown tug deeper. “T-That’s not it at all! I just…”
Tilting his head sideways, “go on.”
“I just…” Dogday purses his lips. “One of the smaller toys got trapped under the old, broken fence after bumping into it…” His head gestures towards the white wooden fences next to them. Parts of it were removed and moved aside from the noticeable holes left in the ground. “Nobody was around even when they tried calling for someone so I helped them up instead.”
“Oh?” The priest eyes the broom in his hand — the small scratch that tore through the fur. “Then why are you still cleaning the front of the Playhouse?”
“It’s the mess from earlier…” Dogday sighs. “This is still your place, after all. If I don’t inform you, who knows if something like this will happen again? Bubba passed by looking for you earlier so I asked him to help bring them to Bobby to treat the scratch. I stayed to wait for you… in case some of the other fences or poles, even, might be loose. Something might happen to you too if you aren’t careful.”
Kind, despite everything…
Understanding, despite his heresy…
Truly the kind-hearted thoughts of a leader.
Unlike himself; a follower to his God’s every wish, a guide to these toys’ salvation, and a ruthless saint to the disobedient.
Personally, should he be asked to, he’d gladly bring his head to his God. (It’s poetic in a way. Offering the one he adores up to the Prototype in response to his heresy. Sacrificial love that’s never meant to be.) However, he has nothing against keeping him detained, within reach — in his sights and presence. It lightens the admitted dread of losing him so easily to his defiance.
However, despite his reluctance, he still has the heart to think about others. And about his safety? After everything that’s led him to being here because of him ? That part of him that still remains.
Total opposites; him and Dogday.
Sun and moon.
Light and dark.
Heretic and reverend.
Catnap hums, and he can see that Dogday is anticipating some form of answer. Almost wary of saying the wrong thing to him. How adorable.
“Aw. That’s very thoughtful of you, Doggy.”
“It’s nothing much…” He mutters under his breath. Cheeks blushing a faint red.
“Nonsense,” he glances over to the fences once more, folding his hands behind him. “It would be best to renovate some of the tents and the old stands. As for the fences… Bubba may have an idea on how to go about it.”
How observant of him in his own purgatory.
“The Prototype would be happy to hear of your good deed.”
Dogday stiffens at the name. He knows that much, his disdain for their God without needing words. His expressions always speak for his silence.
Yet despite such impudent resistance, it only amuses the feline reverend of Playcare. He adores his helpless attempts to fight back.
“Catnap, there’s no need to—”
His large hands clasp down on the dog’s shoulders hard. Rooting him in place while feeling his goosebumps shudder through his body. As if one wrong move can lead to his doom. Catnap giggles at how dramatic his precious Heretic thinks. “One must take your thoughtfulness into consideration and take it as an example.”
Dogday hesitantly meets his gaze and, ah, there he sees it…
As bright as the sun; as bright as the hope in his fearful eyes. Warmth radiating beyond artificial fur and organs within the bigger bodied creature. Ambition burning behind those white pupils as he stares at him with that goal in mind.
Catnap wants more of it. All of it. Every part of that pathetic, pitiful hope for an angel that’ll never appear for himself.
Heretics aren’t meant to leave. Not without punishment.
Dogday is not meant to leave. Not without his permission.
He’s not done with him, after all.
He’ll never be done with him, after all.
“Just how to repay your kindness, I wonder…”
Catnap cradles his ex-leader’s cheek with such rare tenderness before he can deny his statement. Drinking in the unsettled anxious look across his face when he tries to pull away, only for his fingers to hook under his chin and keep him still. The corner of his grin tipping higher when he feels Dogday gulp beneath his grip. Having him in his grasp feels right.
Like a dog on its leash. His other hand trails down to his injured hand and presses on the wound, tugging his wrist. The shackles chiming in place bring that feeling of security and reassurance. A strange high of having his eyes on him that can’t compare to the effects of the Poppy gas. Holding onto him until the Prototype declares his worthlessness — until he’s guided to salvation like the rest. Keeping his precious sun within his reach feels right.
“Well, Heretic,” Catnap lifts the sun pendant around Dogday’s neck before glancing up to reveal the unnerving fondness in his gaze, “since you’ve been working very hard in my honor, it’d be a shame to not reward you for such diligence, right?”
Oh, this hopeless heretic.
“You wouldn’t deny your generous priest, would you?”
His beloved heretic.