Chapter Text
“Cough, cough!”
“Is the dust irritating you again, Chance?” Lady Memoria asked from her perch on top of the mountain of boxes that occupied the attic.
He couldn’t answer as he was still in the throes of a coughing fit. The dust which caked his clothes would always irritate him, and by now he’s used to it. He’s accepted the annoyance as a part of his daily rituals. Once he could catch his breath and assured himself he was fine for now, he answered the Lady’s query.
“It always does, Memoria,” he said. “Come on, that’s a stupid question.”
“I suppose it is.”
Chance sighed and flopped backwards, laying on the creaky floor, keeping a hand tightly gripped on his hood fashioned to look like a D20 dice. The other objects around him haven’t seen him without his hood in a while. Some objects - like Holly - don’t even know the color of his hair because they’ve never seen him with it off.
Looking past the top part of his hood at the high wood ceiling is really the only thing he ever does for “fun” anymore. There’s not much to do here besides talk, stare out the window, talk some more, and laze around. Sure there’s the stuff in the boxes, but Chance would rather not look into all that.
Silence.
It’s a bastard. If it weren’t for the hum from Hector, Chance might go insane with all the intrusive thoughts. Dirty, impure thoughts. Filthy thoughts for a filthy object such as himself.
Filthy…
Dirty…
Impure…
Whore.
“Chance.” Lady Memoria broke the uncomfortable silence.
“What?” He snapped.
“It’s almost sunset. It’s Saturday, if you remember.”
She points to the lone window - its panes are in desperate need of a good cleaning. The sky was beginning to turn into a colorful display of the changing time, the sun shining its last rays for the day off the top of the next door house’s roof. The attic itself was bathed in an orange glow, and you could see all the little dust particles in the air.
Chance sat up. Having it being almost nighttime gave him something to look forward to. On the weekends, Dorian opens himself up to allow the attic objects to roam the house, but only at night. They are expected to be back in the attic by sunrise. The weekend is when he gets to see his friends since he was brought into his human’s childhood home. Rebel, their favorite rubber ducky since she was four, Amir, the embodiment of all the mirrors in the house, but mostly the mirror their human was gifted on her fifth birthday, and Teddy, her favorite stuffed bear since they were eighteen months old.
Chance came into their life way later, around when they were fourteen. That year, for Blissmas, his human was gifted a starter Grottos and Gargoyles set which included him as a special red D20 die you can only get if you bought the starter set. Those few years were amazing. She found a group of friends to play with, and every weekend (with few exceptions) she would bring Chance along to use.
He loved it.
But now playing G & G is the last thing he’d do. The supplies are in one of the many boxes he’s laying next to, but he just doesn’t have the energy, motivation, or desire. Something he loves feels so hard to do.
Dorian, who during the week day would mostly face away from the attic, appeared inside the attic to survey the surroundings. Seeing Chance and Lady Memoria in their usual spots (the floor and on the boxes respectively) was normal. Dorian is not one to snoop or get involved in any funny business, but sometimes their conversations could be intense, and at that point he’d have no choice to listen. At least nobody has filed noise complaints, and their conversations never got to “explosive territory.” Which is more than he could say for the other tenants of the attic.
“Hello, Dorian. Nice to see you’re doing well.” The Lady greeted.
“Good evening, Lady Memoria.” Dorian replied, then turned his attention to Chance. “How are you doing, Chance?”
“Fine.” Chance muttered. “The others will awaken in a bit.”
“You could sound a little more chipper, you know. You all could.”
Chance scoffs. “Maybe if we were let out of this dingy attic more, we would be.”
“I’ve had to explain this to you many times,” Dorian groaned. “You’re not allowed out unless under specific restrictions because -”
“Because the human wants to keep you locked for a reason, blah blah blah.” Chance interrupted. “Yeah. We know.”
“Alright then. It wouldn’t kill you to lighten up on the snark, though.”
Before Chance could make another snarky comment, Sophia (the safe in the corner of the attic) appears with Monique (the money in said safe) in tow. Both of them greeted Dorian with respect and partook in some small talk while they waited for night fall. Joining in the small talk was Holly, the boxes of holiday decorations in the other corner of the attic. The last one to join in was Prissy, the small collection of fake potted plants near Dorian.
While the others conversated, Chance sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, quietly listening and ruminating on what he just did. Did he really have to give Dorian that sass? Why couldn’t he have just let him explain? Hell, why did he have to provoke him at all?
Stupid dice.
~~~~
“Did you hear that, Chance?” Dorian asked.
He, in fact, did not hear that. He’s been tuning out the conversation for about an hour. He didn’t even notice when the attic was suddenly darker from the passing of day to night. What little light was left came from the one window.
He looked up and faced Dorian, his red tinted glasses bathing him in a harsh hue.
Dorian sighed, and reiterated himself. “Mayor Celia will be speaking to the lot of you tonight. There’s important news she must share. Don’t ask me what it is, because she didn’t tell me much.”
“Did she at least say if it was good or bad?” Chance asked.
“No.” Dorian replied matter of factly.
Oh joy. Chance totally isn’t going to worry about it. What if the bad news is their human is finally going to go through all the boxes, and throw away what she doesn’t need anymore? Surely Chance would be first on the chopping block. It’s been years since she’s used any of her G & G supplies, so surely she’s grown out of it. He should’ve known he was just a phase in their life. As much as the others around him may try to lift his spirits and try to take on the burden of his worries, he always shuts them out. They’re his burdens, and he doesn’t want to share those. It’s not their responsibility.
Yet, sometimes, he wishes they were. Silently, he pleads.
“You know the drill,” Dorian steps aside and allows the small group to pass.
As per usual Chance is the last one out the door, and as per usual, Rebel is the one to tackle hug him once they see him. Teddy waited his turn politely for his time to hug Chance.
The hallways are the same as ever. Closed doors, darkness, and empty walls. Barely any other objects are awake at night, aside from the ones that need to be as part of their job on those few occasions. Tonight, Hector is running heating all throughout the house.
While Dorian is trying to talk to the reclusive Hector into coming out of the attic, Rebel greets their friend as if they haven’t seen him in months.
“Hey, dude! The wait felt like forever!” They buzzed. “Still haven’t dusted yourself, I see.”
“No need to rub it in!” Chance giggled. “We can’t all be blessed by Bathsheba’s beautiful poetry.”
“Hey, watch it mister!” They playfully jabbed back. “That’s my friend you’re talking shit about.”
“So you’re allowed to talk shit about everybody, but I can’t? Wooooow, Rebel.”
Rebel and Chance often share playful banter with each other, which may include roasts about each other, or shade which would make Curt and Rod proud. While Rebel was often one for outright rude gestures and speech, they would never go that far while in the presence of Chance, but especially Teddy.
The day Teddy swears or makes any form of rude gesture is the day Hell freezes over. He’s always kind and caring, it makes sense… he’s a teddy bear designed to soothe people. While Chance and Rebel’s relationship includes jabs and jokes at each other, his relationship with Teddy is far more cordial. He interrupts his friends’ playful banter.
“How are you doing, buddy?”
The conversation turns as they walk down the stairs towards the dining room.
“I’m fine.” Chance answers, then immediately shifts the focus. “What about you two?”
“I’m doing just great!” Teddy beams. “I can’t wait for you to hear the news!”
He talks about it as if it were good news. Perhaps Chance doesn’t have much to worry about. While Teddy looks enthusiastic, Rebel rolls their eyes and looks like they’re about to offer an opinion to the contrary. Well, so much for the relief from his anxiety. He looks to Rebel, who’s about to speak.
“He’s just excited. Don’t worry yourself too much about it.” They explain.
“You do know who you’re talking to, right?” Chance quips.
Rebel lets out a belly laugh. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s not bad news! Just… interesting.”
That does not help in the slightest. Interesting can mean so many things. Whatever, dinner is about to be served. Maybe Stefan’s food can help ease his mind. Tonight’s course is lasagna.
~~~~
A little ways into everyone’s meals, Mayor Celia makes her appearance. Her poise is matched by no one else in the house, and she brings a commanding, yet gentle aura wherever she goes. No one else could be the mayor of the home. No doubt she’s here to break the news to the attic objects.
Chance keeps his head down, his hood obscuring his head entirely. In silence, he eats his lasagna, keeping his ears tuned in to his superior.
“Objects,” Mayor Celia addresses them with a commanding voice. She looks at the far left of the table. “Chance?”
He sighs, and looks up, putting his fork down.
“As you may have heard from Dorian, there is some important news I must share.” Mayor Celia announces. “While we already have many objects in the house, it seems we’ll need to prepare ourselves. Because…”
She pauses for some dramatic effect.
“Our human will be allowing her new partner to move in with us.”
Chance’s eyes widened. All he could think to say is “Excuse me?” but he doesn’t actually say this. He just stares, bewildered by what he just heard.
“So, that means everyone will need to be welcoming and accommodating to our new neighbors and roommates.” Celia continues. “Specifically addressing you who reside in the attic, a couple of the objects may take up residence in the attic as a temporary or permanent arrangement. I ask you all to be kind and hospitable for the new objects under my roof. We have a week before the big day, so take this time to get yourselves in the right headspace. That will be all for now. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
How the fuck can she just say that after she dropped a BOMBSHELL?! New objects are moving into the space? There are a million questions running through Chance’s mind, but before he could ask any of them, Celia leaves the space. Among the chattering of the other objects around the table, Chance is spiraling silently. The mayor was never one for a joke, but surely she must be jesting! More objects in an already cramped space? It feels like he’s only just gotten used to the objects in there currently.
Someone crack him now.
“Finally, some excitement!” Sophia exclaims. “Oh, I hope they’re cute.”
“I’m just excited for some fresh faces.” Monique states.
“I can’t wait to tell Hector the news!” Holly beams. “Oh wait, he would already know that since he looks through the vents, yeah?”
Teddy leans into Chance, nudging him in the arm. He jumps a little in his seat.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Teddy assures.
“It’s okay…” Chance takes a deep breath.
“Aren’t you excited? Her relationship has progressed enough for her to bring her girlfriend around!” The excitement in Teddy’s voice is not hard to miss. “Hopefully for forever!”
“I knew they'd been dating for a while, but I didn’t think it was to that level already…” Chance trails off, staring down at his half eaten lasagna.
“It’s been four years, Chance.” Rebel says.
“Holy crit, really?”
Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach. He can’t look at the food in front of him anymore. He gets up from his seat and begins to walk away from the table. Everyone sitting around the table looks his way.
“Hey, are you okay, buddy?” Teddy asks. Even though he can’t see his face, Chance can sense the worry in it.
He wants to plead for him to not worry, same for Rebel. He does not want anyone to worry about him, he’s not their burden.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Chance dismisses the attempt at comfort. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna turn in.”
“Already? But Amir hasn’t even had the opportunity to see you!” Rebel protests. “He wanted to talk to you about… something, I don’t know… But he wants to talk to you!”
Chance turns his body to look back at the table and waves his hand, a forced smile on his face. “Uh, just tell him I’ll be around tomorrow night. I’m gonna go back to the attic. It was nice to see you two.”
“Uh, okay?” Rebel said. The annoyance in their voice was evident. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Sleep well, Chance.” Teddy sighed.
Without so much as a “thank you” he walks away and up the stairs. Instinctively, he holds onto the felt D20 dice fastened to his dress shirt at the collar and keeps his head down, walking swiftly towards the attic. Thank goodness Dorian leaves himself unlocked during the night.
Without a moment’s hesitation he opens the door and closes it behind him. Admittedly he’s not thinking about how harshly shutting the door could hurt Dorian right now. Right now, he can’t even feel his forearms. They feel as if they have restrictive movement.
Chance lays down on the floor, his breathing rapid and uncontrollable. Every muscle in his body is pulsing and tensing up in quick succession, and his heart is beating irregularly and causing his chest to thump. It’s not his first panic attack by any metric. Whenever they happen, he tries to be alone so nobody sees him in such a sorry state.
It’s truly a pitiful sight.
“Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep…” Chance silently pleads to himself.
It was only thirty minutes later when the panic attack ran its course did he finally go to sleep, with his eyes red and puffy, and his throat irritated from the dust he stirred up. He’s exhausted.