Day 59: Sun Room (4th Shift)
After an intercom broadcast like that, Kurogane felt somewhat better about the little information he'd gotten from Harrington the previous night. The man only sounded competent when he needed to but was an idiot otherwise. Unfortunately that was furthered proof of the General not employing the brightest of staff members, making another option for
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Since second shift, Fort Pilgrim had grown from a humble outpost opposing the sinister forces of Fort Doom to a robust structure of supreme supremity, dominating the centre of the boys' side of the Sun Room with its might and power. The single parapet formed by two chairs earlier had become a double row of parapets, all covered with blankets. A plastic chair from Arts & Crafts had been upturned, placed atop the couch and blanketed as well, forming a spire. Pillows had been stockpiled behind the couch, ready and waiting to be used as ammunition. The stockpile was barricaded by a half-circle of plastic chairs, one row on the bottom, another row upended on top to make the wall bigger. Blankets covered this wall as well, keeping the unit together. And between the wall and the couch was an entrance big enough for a person to slip in, with a blanket tunnel leading from there to the other section of the fort.
Scott Pilgrim crawled out of that back entrance as fourth shift began, surveying his work with a look that suggested the proudest of craftsmen.
"All right, man. We can take on the world with this!" he said with a big, dopey grin on his face.
[Woody~]
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What was he even supposed to do with himself now? The idea of a Game Room sounded comfortingly familiar, but Woody couldn't help but drag his feet a little as he cast forlorn gazes around the room in hopes of finding Buzz. But all he saw was face after unfamiliar face...
And a giant pillow-and-blanket fort that had apparently sprung up in the middle of the Sun Room, almost like a wild west settlement next to a gold mine. While he'd seen it in progress throughout the day, Woody hadn't paid it much mind -- that is, until he saw it sprawled out through the room in all of its glory. For a moment, it reminded him of something Andy would have done during his younger days, and the thought pulled a small smile from Woody in spite of himself.
His attention was soon drawn toward Scott, who was proudly looking at the fort. "Hey," he greeted as he approached him with raised eyebrows, "did you make this?"
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Finally, he turned to greet Woody properly, more than glad to see the cowboy's familiar face after the disaster that had been the food fight. "So how's it..."
Scott's head tilted.
Had that been a flash of blue hair in the crowd?
"...going...?"
He blinked. Whatever he thought he had seen, it was already gone.
He shook his head. Probably just some anime girl. That chick with the plugsuit was running around at one point, right? he thought, trying to get his focus back on the friend in front of him.
"Sorry, thought I saw America." Another head shake. "An American. Uh. Someone I know."
He gestured toward the fort. "Hey, why don't you come inside, man? It's getting kinda lonely sitting in there by myself."
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They probably could take it down with a well-delivered attack, he thought, but it seemed kind of mean to do that unprovoked. Upon hearing Scott's language, Woody couldn't help but throw him a raised eyebrow. He wasn't a prude or even unfamiliar with those kinds of words, but it was still strange for someone in...his line of work to hear.
Before he could say anything, though, Scott was suddenly looking at something. Although Woody tried to follow Scott's gaze into the crowd, he couldn't figure out what caught his attention just then. He very nearly waved his hand in front of the young man's face, but apparently he shook himself from whatever had distracted him. An America, apparently? Come to think of it, Woody didn't really know how many countries were represented here. Then again, details like that didn't matter much to him...
When Scott suggested that he go into the fort, Woody's face brightened at first. "Wait, really? Well, I'd--" He glanced down at his long legs, lifting one foot with uncertainty. "Do you think I'd even fit in there?" With the way he towered over a lot of the people here, it was hard to get a sense for those kinds of things.
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"How 'bout the back part here without the roof?" he suggested, indicating the ammunition pillow ammunition section behind the couch. Scott slipped through the entry way, a big grin on his face as he invited Woody to follow. "You can be the lookout if your head sticks over the top."
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Once he got settled, Woody peered up over the fort's edge, his gaze narrowing as he surveyed the patients and guards alike. To be honest, he was kind of amazed that the clowns running this place even let people build stuff like this. Maybe even they weren't above a little fun and games every now and then.
Of course, somewhere in the back of Woody's mind, he realized that a full-grown "man" might look out of place in a pillow fort, of all things. That didn't stop him, though. After all, a toy could never pass up the chance to play pretend.
"So, what's the situation?" he asked as he glanced over at Scott. "Are we at war with that other fort over there, or what?"
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He eyed the blue-haired girl's work with a narrowing gaze. She was working faster now, and it looked like she had someone new standing on her side now. If the silver-haired boy (who looked kind of familiar, but whom Scott couldn't identify at this distance) ended up helping her, they could be in trouble, he thought. What kind of trouble, he had no idea, but considering it was Doom Girl, he knew he had to expect some kind of trouble.
He glanced back over at Woody, unable to help another grin. It looked like the ex-toy was really getting into this. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, he thought, a flash of the opening scene to the first Toy Story coming to mind. Strangely enough, though, picturing the animated Woody next to his real live counterpart didn't weird him out anymore. The guy was just a friend at this point, same as Indy, same at Peter. It didn't matter where or what a person came from anymore - from Middle-Earth to Sesame Street, everyone in Landel's was on the same level. And for all the bad things that went on in it, that was one of the few things Scott could honestly say he liked about the place.
"What do you think? You think Pretty Boy there is gonna join her legion of evil?" he asked, still grinning as he nodded toward the other fort.
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"Well, then, sounds like a declaration of war's in order," he agreed with a nod. Some silver-haired kid (honestly, hairstyles these days...) was with Doom Girl, but it wasn't clear whether they'd teamed up or not. Even if they had, they didn't necessarily outnumber him and Scott. No big deal, right?
When Scott asked for his opinion, Woody rubbed his chin. "It'd be easier to figure that out if we had someone to gather intelligence," he admitted. "But we don't, soooo...I guess we'll just have to make that call from here." Narrowing his eyes, he zeroed in on the boy in question. "With hair like that, though, doesn't he look like he takes himself too seriously to join any kind of 'legion of evil'?" Then again, Doom Girl wasn't much better. Maybe they were two peas in a pod.
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The girl seemed to be enjoying her company, and the boy wasn't wandering away. The longer they stood there, the more likely it seemed that the two might ally themselves, and Scott said as much: "I dunno, man. They look like they're doing the whole 'Ohoho, I made an impressive villain point.' 'Oh my my, how impressive indeed. Let me impress you back.' thing. At least as far as I can tell. Pretty Boy could turn at any moment for all we know."
His hand rested on top of a pillow stack just in case.
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