Chapter Text
It was nighttime in the shallower depths of Gardenview as each Toon slept in their rooms. Some tossed and turned, others snored, a few had only just now been able to reach that state of slumber after much effort, but the important detail was that not a single one of them was roaming the halls.
A dark figure practically floated between the shadows being sure to make as few sounds as possible as they finally reached their destination: An innocuous brown door, just like the other Toons’ rooms. They skulked inside the thin opening they had given themselves by creaking the door open as little as they could and looked around.
The room seemed as though it was painted in a light purple, but it was hard to tell through the darkness and the sheer abundance of things put on the walls; Documents, pictures, sticky notes, even a quaint drawing seemingly made by a child. Most of it was connected by multi-coloured strands of yarn, but they had no time nor interest in deciphering it all. They were here to drop something off then make their way out, and that’s exactly what they did. With a gentle thud and some metallic jingling on the nearby desk, the intruder was gone.
Rodger had awoken much later that morning to the sound of their alarm clock ringing obnoxiously; a “gift” from Tisha to encourage a healthier sleep schedule. All it seemed to do was made him dread waking up. He sat up and weakly rubbed his eye as his mind began to resume its usual investigative racing; There was always more cases to solve, but first? Coffee.
Just as Rodger was about to get out of bed and finally stop his clock from ringing, his hand bumped into something on his desk. A paper box? No, cardboard. Something like that. He adjusted his aim and turned off his alarm clock, then stood up and got a better look.
In front of him, seemingly out of nowhere while he slept, two things had shown up in his room. An oblong box and some sort of...toy, perhaps? No, it looked too dark and heavy to be appealing to a child. Choosing to ignore it for the time being, his gaze returned to the box and the note he had just noticed was placed upon it.
What any good detective needs. Be careful with the trigger! Signed, a fan.
Realising that he had just woken up to an invasion of his privacy and yet another mystery, Rodger groaned in exasperation. Then, when he remembered that Dyle had told him he wasn’t able to import any coffee on his previous trip to the outside yesterday, he just about wanted to stop existing.
It was time to solve a new case.
After changing into something more suitable for the day ahead, a snazzy almost-black jacket with purple accents and an equally purple jabot, he took the strange not-toy and hid it within the briefcase he had always left by his door. Picking it up and heading out the door, he was now left with the question of who to ask about this situation.
He had a few ideas of who might be able to help, but he had a feeling he should be careful about knowledge of his “gift” getting out. He could intuit that what was left on his desk certainly wasn’t from Gardenview and so was likely something not allowed in there. The only things not permitted, at least when it was still open, were food not purchased within the center and things that would pose some sort of danger to the staff or children residing there. It didn’t look particularly edible, so the math was pretty obvious from there.
Eventually Rodger settled on talking to Brightney. She was sharp, clever, and had offered to help with any mysteries he had in the past. That and she seemed like the sort that wouldn’t spill secrets for the sake of it. She was as good of a candidate as any. After walking by Razzle, Dazzle, and Astro, Rodger made his way into the just finished book club session to meet with her.
Closing the door behind him and locking it, much to the concern and confusion of Brightney, he gave a weak wave and planted his briefcase on the table that had not just a few minutes ago been home to the club’s latest topic.
“Was there something you needed, Rodger? You seem tense.”
Rodger let out a sigh and spoke bluntly. “I woke up and found some weird things on my desk. You’re the first person I’ve come to talk to about this and I need to know if you have any knowledge on…”
He opened his briefcase with two clicks.
“This.”
Brightney peered down at the contents of the briefcase, her gaze immediately ignoring the unsorted papers and locking onto what Rodger was referring to. Her mind sorted through itself looking for any clue as to what it could be and ultimately coming up blank.
“I’m sorry, Rodger, I don’t know what this is. It looks kind of intimidating though.” Brightney shrugged. “I could maybe look through some of my books for answers?”
Rodger’s expression soured as he picked up the device, examining it closer for any clues as to its purpose.
“I saw a note on a box next to this machine. I haven’t opened the box yet, but it told me to be careful with the trigger. I’m not keen on testing my luck.”
Rodger hands it to Brightney, who immediately turns it around and looks down the hole at the long end of the object, humming in thought.
“The only significant talk of triggers I’ve heard about is in a psychology book I found once. Then again, you might have just given me an idea.”
“And what would that be? Anything could help.”
“Gardenview has been closed for years at this point, but I’ve never taken a look at any of the confiscated literature. Issue is…I’m pretty sure it was kept pretty deep underground. I don’t think they had much of a use for it so they just left it there.”
Rodger tapped the bottom of his glass in consideration, thinking through what this would mean if he wanted to potentially get more answers.
“An ichor run like any other, just with a bit of a detour. That seems doable.”
“Doable, maybe, but not easy. Please be careful, Rodger. People care about you more than you realise.”
Rodger gently grabs the wood-and-metal hunk from Brightney’s hands and places it back within his briefcase, closing it back up and giving the lamp a reassuring nod.
“I have too much to solve and too much to lose, Brightney. I’ll be okay.”
He briskly unlocks the door and exits the room, looking down at his briefcase.
“...Just what are you?”