Information
Faded
Legacy Name: Faded
The
Nostalgic JollinOwner:
BassAge: 10 years, 8 months, 1 week
Born: August 16th, 2013
Adopted: 5 years, 8 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: August 18th, 2018
Statistics
- Level: 9
- Strength: 25
- Defense: 22
- Speed: 20
- Health: 20
- HP: 20/20
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
The shelves of the abandoned store were coated in dust so thick that even the resident spiders had given up on trying to build webs at the corners. The silken strands would only break under the weight of the heavy golden particles that drifted through the air like poisoned snow. No human owner had inhabited the building since the old toymaker died seventy years ago. His legacy of hand-crafted wooden puppets and hand-swen stuffed animals was reduced to a dozen worn-down specimens of love gone wrong. All bore the battle scars of a child's love, for the toymaker had a most unique policy that gradually put him out of business.
Papa Hans would take back any toy made by his hand, no matter how old or worn-down, in exchange for a brand-new toy of the best workmanship.
Faded was one of the Doomed Dozen, as they had jokingly named themselves on the day the old man lifted his hat and whispered a farewell to the twelve toys he had refused to donate or toss. It had been his intention to patch their wounds and fill them with new life, as he had always intended to marry and have a large family with sons that would take up his trade. Some dreams are never realized, their remnants left to decay behind an enormous "For Lease" sign that hasn't drawn a single interested buyer in decades.
By day the Doomed Dozen sat stone-faced and lonely, watching the children walk by with their attention firmly fixed on glowing screens or clutching some small plastic bauble that could be plugged into a computer for "virtual interactions". Such children had once stood at the giant glass window and gawked at the masterpiece creations of Papa Hans.
Now the abandoned store property wasn't even a blip on their ever-shrinking attention span radars.
Yes, the daylight hours were a time of great sorrow and broken hearts, but by night...
When the sun went down and the headlights reduced to only the occasional flash, the Doomed Dozen truly came alive.
Dolly Dire, Chood Up and Springless Jack had always been the ringleaders. They were the ones that founded the Disgruntled Toy Club. They were the ones that built the Wheelies road system for easy access to all parts of the store from a box of racecar tracks dumped in the supply room. They had even come up with the bold plan of breaking into the old man's personal office to search his records for the addresses of potential new owners. That plan went only so far as knocking over an old filing cabinet because none of the toys could actually read English.
Chood opened the latest meeting with a bang of his gavel. The wooden train engine had lost three of his wheels to the attentions of triplet boys that took pleasure in throwing their toys from the height of a silo to see what would break and what would hold together. Their irate father put a stop to such behavior but not before Chood and half a dozen other good toys earned their place on the scrap heap. Chood probably would have ended in a winter's furnace fire if the old man hadn't specifically asked the farmer about the status of his favorite toy train.
"Let me state for the record that my name is Chairman Chood, formerly of Wasson Farm, now of Hans Toy House. I think it would be best to open with last week's topic of conversation."
Dolly heaved her best theatric sigh. She had been very loosely based on the greatest movie star of her era...though only so much could be done with strings of bright yellow yarn. "Oh, come on, Chood. It's the same old blah and bother every week. Should we leave the shop? Should we not leave the shop? Will some lucky child stumble across us or will we just end up in the town dump? I'm bored to tears of this same old pointless debate...and I'm not even a crying doll!"
Jack clung to the edge of his box for dear life. The slightest relaxation of his grip would send him tumbling back to the bottom and felt fingers were not the ideal tools for climbing. "Take it from a gent that's spent his whole life in a box...the perils of the outside world outweigh the benefits. It was the hands of a little monster that ripped away the spring that allowed me to escape back to the safety of my shelter. Just look at me now. Risking my neck for a simple committee meeting. It's outrageous!"
Gino Giraffe rolled his one good eye. "Nothing short of a fire would do you any harm, Jack. You're nearly flat as a sheet of paper. You don't hit your horns on every low-hanging tablecloth and spiderweb to come into your path. I'm all for Chood's plan. I'd almost rather be a dog toy at this point, just to feel some small grain of affection."
Love Bear slashed a paw through the air, leaking a little more precious stuffing onto the shelf in front of him. "Never again. It was that terrible terrier that cost me the love of my little girl."
Faded had heard all the arguments a million times. The little fox's story was no less tragic than any other toy present. For a few years, she was the darling of the nursery, constantly petted and offered bites of whatever sticky treat her young mistress and master cared to share.
Then the children has started growing older. They left the nursery for more spacious rooms of their own. No new children came and Faded (formerly known as Fanny) found herself lying in the same pool of sunlight day after day until the harsh glare of the sun took most of the rich red color from his coat.
The day she'd been reunited with Hans had been the happiest day of his life. Watching Hans walk out the door with tears in his eyes was what Faded dreamed about when the sun was set. She didn't care about playing in the pile of bubble wrap or teasing the timid mice. She couldn't even bring herself to join in the games the other toys would strike up when their latest round of planning was inevitably doomed by yet another tie vote.
All Faded cared to do was stare out the window.
She would stare at the glowing neon signs across the road, wishing desperately to read the secret messages flashed in vibrant colors. She would stare at falling snow, driving rain or the pearly gray stillness of dawn. Most importantly, she would stare at one particular street corner where children often paused in their walk to school a few blocks away. They never came at night. She only saw them by day with her glassy, frozen eyes, but she knew exactly where they stood to cross the street.
She'd gone to school once in the arms of his precious Vera. The other children had laughed enough to make her cry, telling her a stuffed fox was a baby's toy. She'd hugged her extra hard that night.
It was the last hug before Vera went to her mother, putting on her best adult voice. She wished to be moved out of the nursery. Always the little copycat, James had quickly followed her example.
The only living thing with better imagination than a child is a toy brought to life through much love. Faded could sit for hours daydreaming about what Vera would look like when she walked in the door. She'd be an adult by now, of course. Humans had to grow up at some point. Her children were probably grown too but that wouldn't matter. She'd have a lovely little granddaughter that liked to wear a straw hat with a huge pink ribbon just like Vera's. That little girl would tug her Nana's hand impatiently, her angelic face lighting up at the sight of the little fox that had been a faithful companion at garden parties and visits to the spooky attic. She would simply hug Faded and all her coloring would return, as if by magic.
Hans would be standing in the background, smiling and whispering his tired old line about the power of love conquering all.
Faded still believed in her maker...even in death.
Story by 
Pureflower