Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

These days, you’ve been spending a lot of time at the breaker box. For one, the proprietors are certainly a draw. Eddie keeps you well supplied with drinks each night, swinging by often to check on you with some dry quip that leaves you giggling, even if it wasn’t that funny. Volt dominates the stage, his smile nearly as blinding as the lights, with a voice that sets a hush over the crowd as soon as it can be heard. Of course, you’re also endlessly entertained by the nightly performers, whether it be Johnny’s passionate but tuneless voice, Amir’s mystical shard-throwing, or nights like tonight, where someone new performs.
Now, Volt passes a wink your way before spreading his arms to the crowd, beckoning their attention without even a word spoken.
“Tonight, we have something truly memorable.” He smiles with a soft chuckle, his gaze sweeping over the rapt audience.
“A vision into the future with Lady Memoria, and her tarot card reading!”
He sweeps his hands to the side as Lady Memoria takes the stage with a deep curtsy. Behind her, the curtains pull open to reveal a table already set up, with two chairs accompanying it. She lifts her gaze to the crowd, an unreadable expression adorning it, as she addresses the room.
“As you all know, this isn’t something I typically do, but with Halloween coming up…” She pauses, lifting a hand in Holly’s direction. The girl is setting up Halloween decorations all over the bar, but she raises both arms in the air to give a hearty whoop.
Memoria nods appreciatively, giving a small smile. “Of course, I’ll need a brave volunteer for a reading, someone who isn’t afraid to have their future revealed for all to see.”
Many hands go up, and yours isn’t one of them. Living in a house where all of your objects are people is exposing enough; they all know far too much about you already. You can still remember when you first met Jean Loo, and subsequently couldn’t look him straight in the eye for a week. These people don’t need to know your future on top of it all. At least, that’s your rationale, but as you watch Lady Memoria scanning the room, regarding each object with faux contemplation, her eyes eventually meet….Cam’s! Who…..isn’t raising his hand….
“Cam, dear! Would you be so kind…?” She gestures to a seat onstage.
“No.”
“Of course! That’s quite alright. Who else….?”
Her eyes swivel about the room once more, and as her gaze settles on you, her lips pull into a mischievous smile. You feel the warm weight of dread settling in your stomach.
“My dearest creator, thank you for being voluntold!” She clasps her hands together, giving you the warmest smile she can manage. Before you can splutter out a refusal, Volt’s voice rings out over the crowd once more from stage left.
“Everyone, why don’t we give them a big hand as they approach the stage?” He grins, clapping enthusiastically. Immediately, everyone joins in with unnecessarily raucous applause.
Your eyes snap to Volt’s, and his smile widens. You’re going to kill him later.
However reluctant you are, you still approach the stage with whatever semblance of a smile you can manage. Lady Memoria’s cold fingers take you by the elbow and guide you to your seat at the table. She takes her own seat and fixes you with an intense look. Suddenly, it feels like it's just the two of you, and she addresses you directly with her instructions as she materializes a tarot deck from who-knows-where.
“We are going to do a little peek into the future with this reading. This means, if your “Tarot for Dummies” book was correct, you’re going to have to pick a spread of 3 cards that will be representing your past, present, and most importantly, your future.” She begins to shuffle the cards, and at your confused look, she gives an encouraging half-smile.
“Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it. Tell me when to stop.” She holds up the cards to you, still shuffling.
When you’ve picked 3, the rest of the deck disappears once more (seriously, how does she keep doing that???), and she spreads the 3 cards before you, face down. Her delicately manicured nail points at the very leftmost card.
“This card represents your past, different influences, events, or lessons that are still affecting your present.” She turns the card over.
“The Devil, reversed….!” She announces forebodingly, and you hear a few people gasp dramatically. She drums her fingers on the table and glances down at her lap. You think she’s reading your old tarot book.
“This card represents a light of hope. Freeing yourself from the negativity that you’re experiencing. Now is the time to completely set yourself free. The cycle is coming to an end, and recovery is near.” She pauses, reading your expression. You glance at the crowd, and a few look rather confused. A finger on your chin pulls your face back to Lady Memoria.
“Considering your past, this card may represent how you isolated yourself after losing your job. No, even before. You never left this house and suffered for it. You are still recovering.” She surmises, and you find yourself nodding.
Okay, maybe this isn’t total bullshit. You had struggled a lot before you’d gotten ahold of the dateviators. Sam was the only person you’d regularly talked to, and you never left or had anyone over. Suffice to say, you were hella depressed.
Lady Memoria taps on the next card, and you find yourself paying far more attention than you’d been at the start. She flips the card, and you hold your breath, waiting for the explanation.
“The Lovers, upright. This card represents union and harmony. The Lovers' advice is to follow your heart’s desire. It can symbolize a fertile partnership but also self-love. Also, it can signify that a decision needs to be made, but that you should respect your true needs.”
The reading of this card starts a series of whoops and hollers of appreciation. “She’s talking about uuuusss!!!” Someone shouts, and you can’t help but giggle.
Memoria smiles. “Yes, it seems that this card, as relating to the present, speaks of your present happiness in your current relationships, as well as a peace within yourself. Boring, but good for you, dear.”
You get a round of applause from the room, and you take that as your cue to stand up. As you start to rise, Lady Memoria gives you a look. “Ah, ah, ah~! I’m afraid there’s still one more card.”
“Fine.” You huff, having almost gotten away.
This time, Lady Memoria doesn’t hesitate to flip the final card, the future. She goes silent for a moment, and you feel your stomach drop. This card, you recognise.
“The Towers…..reversed.” She murmurs thoughtfully, picking up the card to show the audience. No one so much as breathes, sensing the sudden tension.
She sets the card back down in the center of the table before clasping her hands together in front of her. After an uncomfortable silence, she smiles.
“You’re helpless, paralyzed with fear….” She begins, her voice a whisper. “Don’t feel responsible for forces outside of your control; realize that with pain can come release and understanding. Something is coming, and it’ll take you with it.” She gives you a long, hard look, pursing her lips.
“How exciting!”
No, no, NOT exciting. Helpless? Paralyzed with fear? Maybe it's metaphorical, like you’ll have to make a tough decision. Maybe you’ll see a really huge spider…? Maybe–
Lady Memoria’s voice interrupts your thoughts once more as she seems to loom over you, her demeanor grim. “Look out for danger in your future, my dear creator.” She murmurs. “Wouldn’t want you losing that pretty head….”
Lady Memoria finally turns to the audience, looking thoroughly entertained. You’re reminded that you’re onstage as she addresses everyone, and you stand abruptly to hurry off, your stomach turning with more dread than you started with.
‘Would anyone else like a go…?” She stands, reproducing the full deck in her hands to shuffle idly.
Sinclaire is waving his arms like a madman, yelling, “Me! ME!!” but you’re a bit too frazzled to really pay attention to the chaos that’s currently overtaking the stage as he throws himself onto it.
You sink back into your comfy chair, the “VIP section”, as Volt likes to call it, your mind still spinning. You’re not usually one to let stuff like this get to you, but after everything that’s happened to you so far– I mean, hello! Your objects CAME TO LIFE??-- It's not so hard to believe that maybe Lady Memoria’s reading could’ve struck true. What if your future is ACTUALLY as fucked up as it sounded? She may have been playing it up for dramatics, but it still could’ve been a legit reading, right? No, no way…..
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, and a yelp leaves your mouth. Your head snaps up to see Dorian standing there, looking just as startled as you at your outburst. Good thing the Breaker Box is loud as hell right now, or that would’ve been embarrassing.
“Sorry, love didn’t mean to startle ya’...”
“Oh, no! I was lost in thought, what did you need?” You wave your hands dismissively, already embarrassed enough to be caught freaking out about a tarot reading of all things. Those weren’t even for certain! They’re just suggestions, after all. You smack your cheeks to pull yourself back into focus.
Dorian’s already started explaining about how he’d been in a rather annoying conversation with Stella (he didn’t outright say it, but you can tell), where she’d been trying really hard to convince him to sell “activated air” with her.
“Then, when she finally left, bless ‘er, I turned back ‘round to the front porch and there was the strangest thing sittin’ there. Curt ‘n Rod didn’t even know what to make of it.”
With that incredibly vague explanation, you follow Dorain out of the breaker box, down the stairs, and to the front entrance. There, Curt and Rod are pressed up against the windows, nudging each other out of the way for a better look as they talk in hushed voices.
“Its just so ugly!” Curt exclaims, disgust coloring his voice.
Rod huffs a laugh, elbowing him in the side.
“Yeah, looks just like you!”
“Do not compare me to that thing! Especially not when it looks like it stole from your wardrobe.’
“Ooh, shadyyyyy!”
They both snicker, turning as they hear both you and Dorian descending the stairs.
“Yo, do not go out there. That thing looks like it’ll EAT ‘chu.” Rod exclaims, jerking his thumb towards the door with a shiver.
Dorian reaches for the door handle, glancing over his shoulder at you.
“Don’t listen to ‘im. Its not that serious. ‘Sides, if things go sideways, not that they even could, y’know we’ve got your back, love.”
You give them all an incredulous expression, throwing both arms up to motion at your front door with a jerky movement. First, that horrible tarot reading, now this…?
“Dude, what the fuck could possibly be out there???” You ask them, and Dorian just twists the doorknob and opens it for you to see for yourself.
On your porch is a baby doll. A disgustingly dirty and damaged one at that. One eye is missing with cracks all around the socket. The other lolls low, lid almost shut, with dirt caked in the opening of the eye. In fact, every nook and cranny looks like someone purposely stuffed dirt into it. Its hands are posed, spread wide with arms extended like it's waiting for you to pick it up. The clothes, to Curt’s point, are white with a pattern that holds an astonishing resemblance to Rod’s jacket, but it’s stained with mysterious fluid. You get the impression that you’d rather not know what the stains are.
“Ew!!!” You exclaim. Curt and Rod nod vigorously in response.
“Thats what I’m sayyinnggg!!” Shouts Curt, bouncing on his heels impatiently.
Despite yourself, you go to pick it up anyways. A disapproving gasp comes from your curtains, but you slot your hands under the baby’s armpits and lift. Surprisingly, its heavier than you imagined, and….ceramic?”
“Ewww!” You repeat, pulling an absolutely disgusted face. “Why is it ceramic?!?!”
Dorian peers over your shoulder to look at the thing, while Curt and Rod huddle around it with morbid curiosity.
“D’ya have any enemies that would leave somethin’ like this?” Dorian asks, puffing up defensively.
“Not in a million years would someone I know leave something like this at my door.” You nudge the front door shut with your shoe and move to the entryway-table to settle the doll down onto it.
“Lets see if this thing will work with the dateviators.” You kneel, adjusting the sunglasses on your nose. You squint, focusing really hard and…..nothing.
“Weird! That should’ve worked!” Skylar says, suddenly crouching next to you.
You nearly jump a foot in the air, but manage to respond. “Y-yea, thats what I thought. Guess its just a doll…or something.”
Skylar continues to stare suspiciously at the baby doll, but you stand up, dusting off your pants.
“Oh well…” You say, turning to go back up the stairs to the breaker box.
“Hold on– you’re not leaving it here, are you?” Rod splutters, catching you by the arm.
“Why, ya scared, Rod?” Curt snickers, and you match his grin.
You walk back over to the doll, positioning it so that it looks right at the curtains. “Y’know, it really does share a resemblance with you. I think we’ll have to name it Rod, right, Dorian?”
“Don't involve me in this…” The door says, turning and returning to his usual post with a harried tip of his hat.
Rod’s pointing at you, looking aghast. “You best not name it after me! That's low as hell!”
You tilt your head, studying the doll once more while Curt falls into hysterics.
“How about Rodney?”
“NO!”

Chapter Text

With 100 people objects in your house, you’re not surprised to find that news of this baby doll spread fast, and information has quickly been corrupting as it passes from mouth to mouth. It seems that the fact that the dateviators don’t work on the thing has spooked some people out, which would explain why when you’re eating lunch in the dining room, Scandalabra manifests in front of you. He lounges on the table, smirking at you with that pointed mouth of his.

“Helloooo, my dear!! I have heard the most interesting tidbit, that you’ve brought a cursed doll into the home! How scandalous! It has me absolutely-!”

You interrupt, looking at him deadpan as you talk through the sandwich you’d been trying to enjoy. “Jon, what are you doing?”

The candelabra seems to sag with realization. He then sits up, straightening out his coat.

“Right, sorry. Look, I’ve been hearing everyone freaking out about some “possessed doll” you brought in, and I was curious, y’know? Old habits die hard and all that.”

“Possessed doll….?” You echo, cocking your head. Is that what the house was saying? “Its not possessed, Jon.” You deny, rolling your eyes.

The candelabra quirks a brow, unconvinced. “You sure?” He asks, sliding off the table. “Let me ask you something, how did it appear without anyone seeing? Not Wyndolyn, not Curt or Rod, and not Dorian. Its like it knew they weren’t looking.”

You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. That was strange, but it could also be coincidence. Thats not enough to say that its haunted. When you finally swallow, you turn back to your candelabra, who’s starting to look impatient.

“What, have you been talking to Maggie lately? Thats all just conjecture, give me something else.” You hold up your hand, moving your fingers toward you in a “gimme” motion, challenging him for more details or rumors. Scandal, if you will. Looks like old habits really did die hard.

“Alright, then why’s it gone now?” He retorts, crossing his arms.

What.

You jump up from your chair in an instant and rush out of the dining room. Jon follows, albeit lagging behind. You can see even from here, but the doll’s not sitting on the entryway table where you left it. Still, you charge forward and begin to search everywhere in the vicinity. Its not here.

“Told ‘ya its possessed.” Jon says behind you.

“Curt! Rod!” You bark out, and the curtains begin to move, the fabric fluttering, whipping, and obscuring your view until Curt and Rod are standing there where before there was no one.

“Hey baby– AAH WHERES THE BABY?!” Rod’s the first to talk, and he jumps back just as quickly.

“Little Rodney’s on the move huh?” Curt grins, but takes a step back too.

“Don’t call him that, his name’s Curtis.” Rod corrects, flicking Curt in the shoulder.

You disregard this and wave your hands frantically. “Focus! Where’s Rodney?

“Curtis.”

Again, you pretend you didn’t hear that. “Did you guys move him? Or did you see who did?” You question, looking between the two. They look utterly baffled, even a little panicked. ‘Wyndolyn?” You turn towards your window, knocking on it lightly.

The window flashes as if a rogue sunbeam happened to reflect off of it and shoot directly into your eyes. When you blink away the spots, Wyndolyn stands there, rubbing off the smudge you left when you knocked.

“Hey looker! Couldn’t help but overhear, but I didn’t see the doll either. Though, I know at least Curt and Rod didn’t do it, I was listening to them go on about the guy that always jogs by at about 12:43, and I must say, he really does have some weird pants! You should try talking to him sometime, see where he got ‘em, maybe–”

You tune out as you feel someone poke you hard in the side and you squirm away, looking over at Jon, who’s speaking to you in a low voice. “Believe me now? Possessed.” He then glances over at Curt, Rod, and Wyndolyn, who are now thoroughly discussing the jogger, and throws a hand to his head, looking faint. “Oh my! A doll on the loose? How horrible! How scandalous!” He trills, placing a hand over his chest.

You huff a laugh at his theatrics, rolling your eyes. “I’m not convinced. Go get Maggie, would you?”

You watch him go, but you’re distracted. You bring a hand to your mouth, chewing your thumb as you get lost in thought. Jon’s words are starting to get to you, what if it really is possessed? You’d have to call a priest or something, right? No, no. Its got to be someone in the house messing with you. Maybe multiple someones, knowing your objects.

Maggie and Scandalabra come down the hall, with the former looking terribly excited. “There you are, gorgeous!”

She’s holding her magnifying glass up to her eye, comically enlarging it as she swoops in to inspect the table. Her head turns this way and that as she looks for clues on every surface.

“I’m going to need all the details! Who’s our witnesses? Our suspects? Do we know what time it was moved? And where is it now?” She speaks quickly, running her finger across the surface of the table and bringing it up to her mouth to lick it.

You feel your face heat up. Maggie taught you better than this! “I- well… we don’t know yet.”
She blanches, looking up at you. “No leads? Nothing? You’re slacking, private-eye.” Straightening, the detective looks around at the small group of people that you’ve got gathered. You look too, and now notice Dorian standing among them, looking faintly interested.

“I’ll start questioning the suspects- I mean, these lovely people in the entryway. You’re job is to gather a little group and find that doll!” She ennnunciates, placing a hand on your lower back to shoo you out of the entryway.

Scandalabra looks positively titilated. He moves to stand with the others, fanning himself. “Ooh, getting questioned, are we? How fun!”

Maggie catches you by the arm, pointing a gloved finger at your candelabra. “And take him with you! He’s–” She looks over at the man, who’s now giving her sad puppydog eyes. “He’s cleared, I could see him the whole time from my shelf.”

“Oh, boo. And here I was hoping to have a better interrogation than last time!” Scandalabra pouts, striding up to you and taking your arm from Maggie’s. “Well, come along now, my dear! We have a whole house to search!”
However, just as you begin to walk down the hallway, you hear several ear-piercing screams come from the downstairs bathroom. You freeze just as the door bursts open with a gust of hazy steam, swirling in the air and only adding to the chaos as someone runs out. A soggy chest collides with your face and nearly bowls you over if not for their hands immediately encircling your waist.

“Woah there, mama! C’mere!” Johnny yelps, pulling you to the side as the entire bathroom comes spilling out after him.

You spin in his arms to watch as Amir backs out of the room, screeching at a cackling Jean Loo, whose and holding up a dripping baby doll by the arm. Sinclair steps out, also soaked to the skin with water, followed by Tyrell who’s doing his best to wipe him off.

“GET. THAT. THING AWAY FROM ME.” Amir shouts at Jean Loo, who only leans forward and shakes it more in his face.

“Non!” Jean barks back, grinning evilly. ‘You are telling Jean Loo zis is what has you so worked up? You little baby?” He shakes the thing again for emphasis.

Amir’s face curdels with anger and swivels to you, rushing over and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Tell him to stop! It was bad enough that thing was sitting on Sinclair and touching ME–! Oh, Joonam, what happened to your face…?” He softens, taking you by the cheeks and rubbing his thumbs across your skin.

You can see in the reflection of his clothes that your nose has gone all red, and its spread to your cheeks in splotchy color. Johnny’s arms tighten around your waist and he leans over your shoulder to inspect your face himself, the water in his curls dripping onto your shoulder with the movement.

Johnny begins to stammer, his face flushing in embarrassment as he realizes how hard he must have bumped into you. “Oh! Honey, I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you, I was just in such a rush–”

“YOU! Good for nothing hack, waste of water!” Your mirror snaps, glaring at the poor boy who’s doing his best to apologize.

Amir pries you out of Johnny’s arms, smushing you to his chest as he continues to tell the shower off. Johnny begins to argue back, and you can hear their voices begin to amp up and up. Alright, this is way too much.

“Thats enough, you two!” You interject, pushing away from both of them with a hand on each chest. You can’t believe you have to separate them now. Maybe group therapy for the bathroom is in order. “Can someone fill me in on what’s going on??” You ask, head swiveling between them.

Johnny opens his mouth to answer and Amir shushes him violently. “That is enough from you, I already have to hear your wailing every second of the-”

“Amir.” You scold, lips pulling into a frown.

He takes a breath, taking your hand from his chest and holding it between both of his. “Sorry, Joonam. The doll showed up on Sinclair’s countertop, leaning against my pristine surface– ugh, thats not going to come out!” He whines, and you give him a sympathetic look.

“What he’s tryna say is that it scared the bajeezus out of us.” Johnny finishes, ignoring the face Amir begins to pull at the sound of his voice.

How did the doll get in the bathroom? You can’t help but wonder, looking around for Maggie. She’s standing behind Johnny, scribbling furiously in her notebook.

“I take it you caught that…?” You ask Maggie, who nods, and turns to the full crowd of people who are now gathered in the hallway.

“Everyone to the living room! You’re ALL suspects!” She announces, and everyone groans.

After everyone shuffles to the living room, you take a full count of everyone here. There’s some new faces, since Maggie really did mean everyone in the entryway, not just those who’d been standing around. In full, the suspects include Dorian, Wyndolyn, Curt, Rod, Stella, Abel, Artt, Prissy, Amir, Johnny, Sinclaire, and Jean Loo. Along with all of them, some of the living room objects as well as Scandalabra have become an audience, which all in all makes for a very full room.

Maggie starts with Sinclaire, who Amir had said had Rodney placed on top of him. “Did you take the doll? And if not, who did?”

“Well, it wasn’t me. I’ve been hungover since last night at the breaker box, so I took Sudsy for a walk to clear my head, and came back to find Rodney tarnishing my porcelain. Amir can concur.” Sinclaire offers, and Maggie looks over to Amir for his agreement, and he does nod.

“Interesting, so you happened to be out when the doll was placed, its just like what happened last time! Amir, you must have seen something?” Maggie reasons, swiveling to inspect Amir with her lenses.

Amir shoots a glare at Johnny Splash, who looks away with a huff. “Someone fogged me right up, so I’ve been blind since Sinclaire left.”

The murmurs of your objects talking fills the room as Maggie interrogates object after object. Its getting nowhere. So far, anyone who should’ve seen it mysteriously didn’t for whatever reason, so its possible anyone involved is just lying to cover their tracks. A certain uneasiness fills the room as Maggie finds herself halfway through her suspects list with no new leads.

This certainly isn’t helped when the lights flicker, and with tensions already high, conversation is cut clean off. An eerie silence fills the room as all eyes swivel towards the doll, who’s been placed sitting on the couch. You dismiss the thought that its the doll with a small shiver. Is it the breaker box? Or is Lux having an issue? After a few moments were the lights remain on and fine, a smattering of conversation starts back up, and Maggie turns back to Dorian, who she’d been questioning.

But, with a foreboding DUNNN sound that could be taken straight out of a horror movie, the room is plunged into darkness. You hear gasps, shouts, and a girlish scream that is definitely coming from Rod. Everyone silently backs away from the doll, waiting for some sort of paranormal event, like books being thrown around, or your couch floating. Dorian moves over to you, positioning you between him and the wall. And yet, nothing happens.

“Lux….?” You manage to squeak out.

For a few seconds, there comes no response, but then a familiar fruity voice answers. “The lights are turned off, dummy! You’ve gotta do a sexy little dance to turn them on. (My luxies are gonna love this!)” You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Only if you pay me.”

“Boo, you whore.”

And, the lights flicker back on. “Gotcha~! Thats going on my channel!” Lux appears with a sparkle next to you, typing something out on their phone. “Hashtaaaaggg pranked those betches!”

A wave of groans and complaints start up around the room, and Maggie looks particularly miffed at the interruption to her investigation.

“LUX! Thats not funny!” Rod shouts, crossing the room to shake the influncer by the shoulders.

“Ewww… get your hands off meeeee.”