Backstitch

Chapter 7

The blonde discarded the logic behind Babo's infinite pockets as he watched the striker be revealed. It was a rustic and far from efficient woodpile, but it was as good as they could get for the moment. Ox was the only one who had experience in making a fire, anyhow, a talent Lou was contemplating over the whereabouts of. The blonde had his legs drawn up against his chest, head resting in his arms as he watched the fire absentmindedly. It still felt sickeningly terrifying that this was reality. On the outskirts of town, hiding from his creator lest death be the next chapter of his life. He hadn't had much of a life, anyhow. Death would be more exciting.

His eyes were growing heavy as fingers raked through his hair. Mandy had started fussing over it. While she enjoyed the natural style, it was still the tiny details that showed how messy it was. There were a few knots she was gently pulling out. When Lou had asked her why she was busying herself with his locks, she simply replied that her hair never required much attention, and it was nice to have hair to work on again. Now that perfection wasn't the desired trait, Mandy found her calling to be a scarce need among the dolls.

She wasn't lying, either. As loathe as the other dolls might have been to admit it, Lou had the softest and most fascinating hair of them. Probably a characteristic of being a prototype. The blonde sighed lightly, sleep close to overcoming him. At least for the moment, he could forget the threat breathing down his neck. He actually felt...safe. Comforted. Despite being at odds with the Ugly Dolls, he felt a sense of protection from them being here. Mandy playing in his hair, Nolan curled up next to him, Ox tending to the fire. Moxy was entertaining the best she knew how: games. Charades had begun at some point during Lou's daze.

Blue eyes were almost closed when his name was spoken by the pink doll. He blinked lazily at her, "Hm?"

"Wanna play charades?" Her smile was wide and innocent. A trait he secretly envied her for. Oh, to go back to the days when his innocence had yet to be tainted by the plague of isolation.

Charades, huh? Honestly, he was keen to simply fall asleep so long as Mandy continued her mindless toying. Unfortunately, the dark-skinned doll beamed at Moxy and stood to her feet, "Sounds like fun! And a good way to take our minds off all this stuff."

Lou gave a slight hum of disapproval, his sleep-induced pampering gone and most likely not returning. Begrudgingly, he stood, Nolan forced to follow suit when his headrest moved. "Fine," Lou gave in, "how's it work?"

"You've never played charades before?" Moxy gaped as if the doll had relinquished the secrets of the universe. He merely rose a brow at her, deadpan. "Okay, well, one person imitates something or someone—it can be anything—and the rest of us have to figure out what it is. But you can't talk! Only gestures."

Nolan rose his hand quickly, "Ooh! I have one as an example!" Moxy let him take the center of attention, and the brunette adjusted his right sleeve, pulling it up to portray symmetry. He straightened his tie the best he could and shook his shoulders, clearing his throat. Lou snorted at the way Nolan seemed to be embracing having eyes on him for a moment. Unusual for the doll that was used to being in the background. It started to make sense to the others, though, the reason for this change in demeanor. Nolan held his arms out in a flashy manner, walking foot in front of the other as he sashayed his hips. As he continued the walk, a quick pop of his collar topped it all off.

"Oh! Oh!" Moxy raised her hand excitedly, "It's Lou!"

"Yeah!" Nolan laughed, quickly dropping the stance.

"What?" Lou crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow indignantly, "I do not walk like that."

Nolan scoffed, "Yeah, you do.. And I've seen you pop your collar before," the brunette smirked. "You also do this funny walk sometimes where you're like," he relaxed his posture, letting his legs swing out a bit as he ambled across the group.