Chapter Text
It was just your luck.
You didn’t step outside your home too much, spending most time inside doing work and occasional chores. It was a simple life. Filling the void with games, movies, and especially knickknacks that despite the name were filled with a lot of worth in your eyes. So, it was just your luck to see a neighbor hosting a small yard sale. You shuffled over excitedly and perused the wares on display. Even if you didn’t buy much, you did enjoy seeing what all there was to offer. Seeing what kinds of things others were into. You could learn a fair bit about people through sales like these.
Curiously your eyes scanned over a rack of clothes, a shelf of various forms of tapes, a box of well worn sports gear.. and a box of vintage video game gear. You spend some time digging through it, checking if there was anything you may be interested in. With nothing to show from the box, you continued your search elsewhere. Cookware, cleaning tools, at least two boxes of books of all genres, and tucked away on a table in a corner next to a box of old records and a pile picture frames was a box labeled ‘knickknacks’. Bingo! You zeroed in on it and beelined your way around tables and monsters to get to that prized cardboard box.
Knickknacks, one of your favorite simple pleasures in life. And what a pleasure it was indeed when your eyes beheld what the box possessed. Various figurines of medium and small. A common theme among them was jazz. It seemed the parents of the family was an enjoyer of such music. The figurines were quite cute and held a decent level of craftsmanship in their display. Nearly all of them had a simple word inscribed somewhere on the base. You began to pick up and inspect each one with intrigue.
The figures were all of oddly cute nondescript generic beings playing a variety of instruments. First one you picked up was of a woman playing the piano, she wore a fancy dress and her piano read the word ‘Soul’. The next was a larger man sitting on a bench with the word ‘Harmony’ on the back, he played a violin with a microphone in front of him. You went through them one by one until a particular figurine caught your eye.
You delicately lifted it from the box and gave it a thorough examination. A long suitcase rested on the base with the word ‘Jive’ inscribed into it. At the back was a bass, propped up facing away from the figure. The figure was the centerpiece of it, a quite handsome bearded fellow in a suit playing a large saxophone of sorts. Though the face was as blank as it could be, for some reason it gave you a feeling of loneliness. Playing out his little songs for an audience that wouldn’t stay and listen. Putting his all into his playing of the saxophone in hand.
It wasn’t often that you would feel so strongly magnetized to something. So, you decided. This was going to be what you bought! You held the figure firm but gentle as you sought out the owner to pay, and continued to do so as you rushed back to your place to find the perfect spot to display it.
It took a bit of searching, but you found the perfect place for it. A windowsill that overlooked the majority of your living space. You could glance over while cooking or cleaning and see him playing his silent tune. It was silly to humanize an inanimate object, but you couldn’t help but hope it would be happier now.
It wasn't much of a living space, but it was home. You had a vintage television, a record player from your father, some shelves along the walls were decorated with some pictures, but especially other knickknacks you've picked up here and there. They were all various kinds of objects. Some were crystalline animals, and others were ceramic foods that gave you a chuckle. All of them brought a smile to your face whenever your gaze would wander, and you'd catch a glance of them.
And now. You had a new one. A special one. The window you placed it on was just above your sofa, giving you a perfect spot to sit and marvel at it.
As the days and weeks passed since your purchase, you found yourself doing just that every now and again. Sitting and admiring it. You'd even try to imagine what kinds of music he would play on his instruments. Maybe even try to guess what he could have in that suitcase of his. You jokingly settled on a gun of sorts. Something he would use to guard himself and his instruments-- One of which you had looked into and learned was a specific type of saxophone; A baritone.
It wasn't something you'd normally do. Give objects names like others apparently would. You'd only ever done so to a plush toy or two when you were younger. You even still have them. However, you found yourself referring to the figure in your mind by the word inscribed on it. It was silly, sure, but it brought a smile to your face nevertheless. You’d be doing your usual thinking of the figure and come up with all sorts of scenarios and more for little Jive to be getting into. Big concerts with your other décor as the audience to hear him play and chant his name, or little personal songs played out the window to the moon and stars. Just some small and nonsensical things to help pass the time when nothing else would suffice.
It was sort of ironic how much you loved your delicate knickknacks when you have the occasional tendency to be a tad bit of a klutz. You’ve had a fair number of times you’ve bumped into your shelves or fumbled while cleaning. Thankfully, it wasn’t too often that you’d nearly drop or knock over one of your things.
Unfortunately, today your bad luck struck.
You were in the middle of cleaning your house. Vacuuming the floor and needing to move some of your furniture around to get it all. The coffee table was first, simple enough, then the chairs, a little tricky, and finally the sofa. It took a fair bit of effort to push and pull one side away from the wall just enough for you to slip behind it. You pressed your back up against the bit of wall below the window, your feet pressed into the back of the couch. This is where it all went wrong.
As you gave the furniture a good push, your head lolled back and bumped into the figurine. In the matter of seconds you shot your gaze up in fear to watch the figure wobble and fall. You flailed, slipping from the wall and hitting the floor awkwardly as you tried to reach out for the figurine.. but it was too late. It clattered to the ground and the sickening sound of something cracking off echoed in your silent room. Staring in horror at the figure.. now in two pieces.
Shaking your head and shuffling over across the floor to where the figurine landed you picked up and held both pieces. Turning it around you fretted with where the broken piece fit back onto it. It looked clean enough, the jagged parts fit almost like a puzzle, but there was a little chipping of the paint from the fracture.
Well. You did always fancy those restoration and repair videos.
After a moment of fighting back the distress, you uttered a small apology to Jive and sat him gently down on the table before continuing your cleaning. You couldn’t just leave it unfinished.
“Great..” you muttered, “I wonder how much resin costs..?”
You made a mental note to search the internet for what you may need to fix him up. You really did feel horrible about having broken him.. You quickly finished up and went to make your list. Searching various topics and even revisiting some videos online to find what you’ll be needing. It wasn’t too much you’ll need, thankfully. Just some paint, new brushes, resin, special putty, and even some sandpaper to make sure the whole thing is as seamless as you could get it.
The trip to find and buy the items on your list took a while-- two days, in fact-- but you did it. Laying it all out on your table, laptop to the side, and Jive dead center before you. Him and his arm holding the saxophone.
Before you began, you opened up your computer and prepared a tutorial video you had saved prior to help. You followed along as the voice-over began to play with a click of a button.
You took a deep breath to help remain calm and steady, and then you started.
Truthfully, you’ve never done any figure repairs before, so this was a first. Safe to say you were nervous. Following the video as closely as you could, replicating each step as carefully as you could manage. You really didn’t want to make any mistakes and make everything worse.
Without the saxophone in the way as you picked him up as you worked, you were able to get a better, unobstructed look at his face.. or lack thereof. He really was handsome for what you could see. It only made you feel worse for having broken him, yet all the more determined to repair him. You cared deeply for your things.
It would require some extra time for the resin and putty to fully dry and cure before you could continue. You paused your video and pulled up some music to listen to in the meantime. You never really did listen to jazz before, though you did have a couple of favorite songs that fit the genre. Even if swing was a better term to describe them. For some silly reason, however, you felt like your figurine would enjoy it, so you pulled them up while you waited. Even going as much as to turn him to face the screen as if he could even see. A simple joy for yourself.
When it was dry and ready you sanded the putty down so that it looked seamless. The paints were next to help cover any signs of damage or repair. You held him delicately, thumb pressed to his torso, fingers curled around his back, a firm yet gentle grip. Keeping him steady as you worked around his shoulder and wrist. Your wrist began to ache a little after all the sanding was done. A worthy price to pay for the sake of restoring the figurine.
Hours later and he was finished. Looking as good as new, and oddly a little happier..? Well, aside from the paint needing to dry, but that’ll be done overnight. It had gotten late in the evening by the time you finished that it was now time for bed. Picking him up firmly by the base, you got up and carried him off to a good spot to dry for the night. Then, it was off to bed with you.
Strangely.. As you drifted off, you thought you heard the sound of music.. You chalked it up to an ear-worm from the music earlier.
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As you slept, a strange smoke seeped into your home. Blackening the walls and darkening the halls. Until nothing could be seen and no light of the morning sun could reach it.
The shadows on the walls and silhouettes of furnishings twisted and moved. Everything swirled and pulled you along for the ride as you drifted in your dreams, peacefully unaware.
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You've never experienced a lucid dream in your life before, so you were confident that this wasn't a dream at all. Awakening in a world of darkness instead of your own home. Snow that shifted and sparkled like that of a dead air channel on TV was collected on the ground around you for as far as the darkness allowed you to see. The crunch of which you could hear as your bed crawled along through it.
This was no longer your home, and this was no longer your bed.
Where was this? How did you get here? What happened while you slept? Why was your bed moving?
You were terrified.
Gripping at your blankets and pulling them closer, you looked around and observed your bed.. or what you once thought was your bed..
It was some kind of creature now. The legs ending in paws that padded along in the strange snow that surrounded you. With a little effort, you sat up enough to peer over the headboard.. which turned out to be literal. A face was not something you expected. Although, you weren't sure what you were expecting to begin with.
You cautiously slid along the edge of the headboard until you were peering around the side of it, trying to get a better look at the creature. Before you could, however, it stopped its movement and reared its body up. Your hand that had curled around one of the posts in your shifting of position gripped on tightly. That only made it more upset as it suddenly bucked you off.
The landing was rough despite the snow. Landing painfully on your arm, which twisted wrong in your flailed launch. You groaned and curled in on yourself, gripping your arm close. The bed creature merely continued walking away, leaving you now completely and utterly alone in this barren wasteland.
Great.
You let out a scream. Shouting frustration of your situation. And your pain.
A minute passes and you go quiet.
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A noise.
..Music? It’s sporadic and odd.. but it definitely sounds like music.
You pull yourself up from the snow and look around, locating the direction of the sound-- there-- and began to walk towards it. Trudging through the thick snow. If that music was real then.. maybe you could find someone and find some answers.
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You don’t know how long you’ve been walking, but you know you must have been getting closer. The music was getting a little louder, a little clearer, but still off in the distance. A light has sprung up in the backdrop of your view, a hazy glow of blue and red. What felt like an hour more of walking you could make out what seemed like search lights dancing across the haze. Strange..
It had been quite some time now and your exhaustion of walking, the throbbing of your arm, and your lack of food was taking its toll on you. Growing weak and tired, your walk becoming more of a hobble by this point. You really needed to sit.. to have a lie down.. The snow was soft..
It wouldn’t hurt to just.. lay down.. rest. The snow wasn’t even cold. You were so close.. but your body demanded you stop.. just.. for a little bit. You fell to your knees and slowly laid yourself down upon the soft snow.
The last thing you hear as you give in to your body’s demands is the sound of a saxophone growing closer..
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