the toonseltown theft

"Ahh, an assignment during the holidays?" Sasha groaned to himself as he approached the heavy iron gates of the Archivebot Department, little paws lightly treading above the layers of snow most cogs had no choice but to trudge through. "Well, it's not like I expected suits to have much of the spirit for it, hah!"

"No..." He continued to muse as he slid between the bars, stopping momentarily only to ensure his magician's cape didn't get caught on anything. "They have a different kind of spirit entirely."

During the day, it was nearly impossible to see any of the normal archivebots out in the yard. Instead, the outer perimeter of the headquarters was populated by a single manager, glumly trying to clear out the path with a shovel.

"Eh, you're the chump assigned to help out B's daft little scheme, yeah, yeah?" Denton addressed Sasha without a greeting, his head dangling from it's chain and turning lazily to the cat as he leaned against his shovel.

"You know that isn't a snow shovel, right?" Sasha pointed to the tool in Denton's hand. "Going to take you quite a while to clear this up."

"Eh, 'Rona doesn't stock much for groundskeeping, keepin'," Denton shrugged. "So, we only got the one, one."

"Oh, you have two shovels! That should help at least," Sasha gave a polite clap.

"Wot? That's not what I said, I said," Denton scowled, narrowing his eyes. "I said we only got the one shovel, shovel!"

"Shovel, shovel, exactly. That would make it two." The cat nodded, causing the cog to drag his hand down his face.

"Bloody flea-bitten-" He swore under his breath.

"The Archives. Has one shovel. That I am using, usin'." Denton rephrased slowly.

"............" Sasha blinked slowly, an awkward smile on his face. Why was the manager speaking so slowly? He understood what he said the first time oh wait no nope it made sense now.

"Oh!" He said, inching around Denton and scurrying into the Archives. The Deadringer was known for having a capricious temper, and he was already on schedule to deal with another, more temperamental cog. The magician decided it would be in his best interest to not set off the cog.

The Archives, as always, felt far more cold than even the snow outside. Sasha blinked and squinted at a sudden darkness as heavy as the door closing behind him. Oppressively high ceilings and a near-endless stretch of desks lay before him, and the stillness of the air made Sasha's spine stiffen in anticipation of some unknown scare.

"Mademoiselle Molliere?" Sasha called into the Archives, his voice being swallowed by the void. He sighed, walking deeper into the building, hoping to find a single soul- Living or otherwise.

"I don't really want to be waiting here for too long," Sasha muttered to himself. "There are much better things I could be doing- Practicing my card tricks, enjoying a rich cup of hot cocoa- Not. Being in the Archives. That's a big one, in my opinion."

He came to a stop at the first occupied desk he found. An archivebot doing exactly what many of it's colleagues did: documenting papers, filing them, and doing the same thing all over again. A task so tedious it barely required thought- This Burnout was ahead of the curve in that regard, seeing as it didn't even need it's head to continue it's work.

"Though, nobody would fault me at this point, right?" Sasha asked the cog, who merely sat there for a moment, the stump of where a neck once was fizzling, then shrugged in reply. "I mean, I am a busy magician with quite a full, packed schedule, so if Miss Molliere misses the meeting it must mean that I'm-"

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The sound of glass sliding against glass prickled in the toon's ear as hands firmly gripped his shoulders. Sasha's words failed him as his eyes rolled back in his head to look up at the suit that had apprehended him.

"Monsieur Sasha, I certainly hope you were jesting when you entertained the idea of abandoning your post," A distinct accent cut the silence.

Carte Blanche was the designated suit name of this pale cog, so named for the nearly limitless permission she was given to command others on behalf of her superior. Also because she was French- a genuine import from Paris or something.

"Of- of course! An aboslute joke! What traitor toon wouldn't be bedazzled to work with the- Uh," Sasha wracked his brain for the right adjectives to use. Bianca didn't seem to be very keen on words like 'beautiful' or 'beloved', and words like 'benevolent' were out of the question.

"The... Brutal and Brilliant Bianca??" Sasha offered, wincing in anticipation of the archivist's reaction.

He felt her glassy grip tighten slightly on his shoulder, feeling her bleak blue eyes boring into his skull as she was mulling over his words.

"Brutal... Yes, I do try to be quite ruthless," She finally hummed her approval, loosening her fingers enough that Sasha could fall to a scared little puddle on the floor.

"Which is why I expect you to do your due part in being even half as ruthless as I on this mission." She continued to explain, stepping over him, turning on her heel. "As a toon, I assume you have a personal shortcut to the 'Toonseltown' area?"

"Yeah- I mean, oui? Nevermind- Yes, I do." Sasha stammered as he got back up, dusting off his clothing- Not that there was much to dust, with how impeccably clean the Archives were kept. "But can't you just fly there?"

Bianca smirked.

"Cogs who fly in there invariably become incapacitated by an assault from toons. That's why I intend to sneak in," The cog said. "And once the toons think their precious presents are safe, I shall swoop in and confiscate them- With this!"

She brandished a slip of paper in the air, written up as an article of repossession. With her unique ability, this notice was all she needed to steal any presents under the tree in one fell swoop. Sasha watched as she tucked it safely amongst the blank sheets that made up her hair. 

"So, make with the shortcut, post haste." She waved down at Sasha. The cat hesitated, tapping a finger to his one prominent fang. Bianca titled her head back at him. "What is the problem?"

"I'm thinking... And you can't just expect to charge in, right?" Sasha pointed out, rummaging in his cape. "A lot of presents means a lot of toons, so you'll need some sort of hiding place. Maybe a disguise?"

"Is that so?" Bianca paused herself. "Hmm, yes, I imagine this place offers very little in terms of ambush opportunity. You've been there before. What do you suggest?"

He took a moment to close his eyes, racking his memory of Toonseltown's layout. Everything cented around the tree, so many shops, stalls, and cafe's faced it directly. So perhaps there was a chance to keep just out of sight. But where? Maybe at the main entrance to Toonseltown's main square, among the decorations...

"Tada! I got it!" Sasha snapped his fingers, beckoning Bianca in closer...

....

"This is absolutely humiliating," Bianca's glower had somehow become even darker as she finished changing into her disguise.

"Shh, you mustn't break character, super-superb stealth mission, remember?" Sasha tutted as he pushed Bianca into place on the stand. Taking the place of a toy soldier wasn't very hard, so long as the suit remembered to stay still. 

"Comfortable?" Sasha asked, then waggled a finger as Bianca was about to reply. "Ah-ah! Toy soldiers don't talk. ... And magicians like myself don't talk to decorations, so..."

He donned a top hat- Not his usual style, but it was the holidays, which necessitated a little more dressing up than usual. He turned on his heel with a whirl of his cape. "I'll see you later!"

"Abandoning me here!?" Bianca hissed through gritted teeth, but it was too late. The cat had already trotted off to mingle and shop in the quaint holiday village. Probably for more playing cards or amusing knick-knacks for his toony coworkers. Bianca stifled a growl, clenching tighter on the musket in her hands.

She exhaled through her nose, a tiny glass whistling sound, reminding herself that patience was key here. She couldn't strike until after other cogs had depleted the toons' ammunition.

For the most part, she did an excellent job of staying still, even as a cart selling hot chocolate crunched through the snow to park itself next to her, the mouse toon oblivious to the false decoration beside her as she began to prepare cups for customers. Bianca would have scoffed at it were she not undercover.

As the breeze picked up the steam, Bianca faltered internally at the scent of rich chocolate, swirled with rich cream and real sugar, even a small pinch of cinnamon and nutmeg to make it that much warming to the senses. Her grip on the musket tightened once more. She reminded herself that toons had a filthy love for sweets, something no proper suit could abide.

Even if they brought back memories of leading small hands through a market even busier than this, bending down to speak with merchants in hopes of getting a good price on that day's dinner ingredients with the alloted jellybeans her employers had given her to haggle with. And how she would promise that child that she would do her best to make sure there was enough money left over for the both of them to enjoy a pastry- As long as he kept his promise to not let that sweetness spoil his appetite-

No.

Her fingerips dug into the wood of the musket, splintering into her gloves.

The whirr of propellers brought Bianca back to the present, and she watched as the scheduled cog invasion began, eyes darting to observe how each side moved. Despite being stronger physically, these standard model suits were easily out maneuvered by the sprightly toons, pelted with snowballs before they could make a real effort to steal any packages. This was where her advantage would come into play, she was certainly more nimble than these run of the mill cogs.

Across the square, she spotted Sasha, who was hanging back amongst the chaos- Seemingly keeping his eye on the flow of activity as well. Could he be plotting strategy as well- Or was he just making sure he appeared as invested as she was? Certainly the latter.

She could barely hide her sinister smile as she watched presents pile up under the boughs of pine, the toons rejoicing under the false assumption that their presents were safe.

Another toon passed by her, holding the last present that would go under the tree, but before the animal could make some silly noise of glee or triumph, Bianca's hand shot out, taking the box by the shiny ribbon that tied it shut.

"Ha! Your victory is short-lived, toons!" Bianca taunted as she leapt out, skating around the tree with the present gripped tightly in their fist.

She sped around the ring of ice, a show of bravado as she skated on her heels. She carved up a small dusting of ice crystals as she came to a perfect stop in front of the gathered crowd.

She raised her head up high, sneering out at the gathered crowd.

"You thought you had ousted every cog, but you were wrong!"

Out of the stunned silence, the toons began to clap, mostly confused but genuinely impressed.

"I had no idea cogs could ice skate," One toon squeaked.

"It was very pretty," Another agreed, accompanied by many such mutterings.

Bianca blinked, her concentration broken by this warm reception.

"Ahem, it was nothing, simply a matter of balance," She politely stammered, miming a curtsey out of a long-dead habit.

"Merci, merci-" She said, then shuddered and stood back at attention.

"Wait, no! Not merci!" Bianca snapped at the crowd, pointing at them with her musket. "You should be the ones asking ME for mercy!"

She stamped her foot to the ground, summoning her worst glare.

"Mercy that I shall not give you," She sneered, reaching back to her hair. "As I am Carte Blanche, I have all clearance to confiscate all your-"

Dlrip.

Bianca's eyes opened wide as she pulled a wet slip of paper from her head. Being sat next to the steam of a hot chocolate cart, under the eaves of a building for icicles to drip down on her, rendered her hair far too wet to be used as proper blank checks.

Her white face somehow got whiter as she realized her trump card dissolved uselessly in her hand, her expression betraying that the upper hand still belonged to the toons.

"Ahem," A fox in the crowd cleared his throat, speaking up so everyone could hear. "It seems to me that our little cog friend here is quite out-numbered, isn't she?"

The other toons murmured in agreement, reflecting Bianca's self-sure smirk back at her as they bent down to gather snowballs from the ground.

"Ah-" Bianca faltered, taking a step back. "This isn't what I planned... You were supposed to be scared-!!"

CRACK

The first snowball smacked Bianca right in the eye, setting her off balance and slipping on the ice. The embarrassment and pelting only continued from there.

In the end, Bianca only just managed to run away with her costume and injured pride- Trudging back towards the Archives with nothing to show for it. 

"Soooooooo that could have gone better," A voice mewled beside her, and Bianca quickened her stride to try and avoid Sasha's approach.

"That should have went perfectly! If not for this disguise-" She scowled, ripping off the toy soldier outfit to reveal her Archivebot uniform underneath. "I would have intimidated them to their core!"

"I'm not so sure..." Sasha said. "You look pretty different in the daylight. Less scary."

"What."

"I mean," Sasha continued. "The Archives are so dark, it makes you and your co-workers so hard to  approach. But out in the daylight? Totally different."

He tapped a thoughtful finger to his single fang.

"In fact, you especially look quite cute and darling in the daylight! It's refreshing!"

Bianca snapped her head back, the broken half of her face glaring straight down at him.

"Nevermind, I take it back," Sasha shrunk back with his hands up. "You are positively, without a doubt, still intimidating in the daylight."

The cog stopped, right before the gates to the Archivebot HQ.

"The only good thing about this expedition," Bianca stated, turning the musket still in her hands. "Is that it gave me this, and the perfect target!"

She whirled around, aiming the gun down at Sasha, paralyzed by fear. Bianca's wicked grin widened, relishing every milisecond of her pulling the trigger and-

Watching as a cork fell out of the barrel with a silly little pop! Sound. 

"Heheh, it's a prop... Of course it is," Sasha sighed, with a betraying amount of relief in his voice. "Ack!"

He hopped out of the way of Bianca tossing the wooden toy at him, keeping a few paces behind her as she pressed onwards towards the Archives.

"Heeeeeey B, b," Denton taunted, waving at the other suit. "Where those presents? I was looking forward to gettin myself of those little artsy cars, yeah? With the remote control and all that, that."

Now that Sasha thought about it, what he said about Bianca applied to Denton as well. In the dark of the headquarters, his glare and stance made him imposing, but in the light of day.... Well, he was kind of just a newspaper color.

"Quiet, you imbecile!" Bianca snapped, pointing back at her colleague. "That is my shovel. I did not give you permission to use it!"

"It isn't your shovel- Just cause you like to have some kinda weapon in your hand- Don't make it yours, yours," Denton paused, stifling a cough then pointing lazily back at Bianca. "You're just mad that your little adventure went bolts up, aren't ya? Yeah?"

"I may not have succeeded in my mission, but I did learn some vital information..." Bianca grumbled, dipping her hand into the pile of snow along the walkway as she neared Denton.

"Oh, didja now? Let me guess- You learned how they put them gum drop buttons on the ginger bread blokes, blokes," He scoffed.

"No." Bianca's reply was terse as she wound back and tossed a snowball at Denton, smacking his head with a not-quite-satisfying ding. 

With a huff, she strode into the Archives with her nose turned high, Sasha following behind as Denton was left to pull his head out of the snowbank Bianca had knocked it into.

Back in the Archives, the walk to the back of the building was quiet, and Bianca's footsteps betrayed her worry as she gazed up at the cog that towered over the gigantic desk in the back.

"Mademoiselle Molliere, I take it you finished your assignment?" Even at an even tone, the deep voice of her boss reverberated around the two employees as they made their way up the side of the desk to stand atop it.

"Yes, sir, I did, but..." She hesitated, looking up at Lazarus Corona, who had his back to her as he was reading something. She cleared her throat. "However, there was a- Complication."

"Complication?" Lazarus finally turned around, his eye falling down upon Bianca's shattered face. "Tsk, my little trinket, once again? I will fix you in a minute."

"It's not that!" Bianca insisted, covering her missing piece with one hand. "About my mission, I-"

"We managed to steal a portion of the presents, Mister Corona!" Sasha spoke up beside her, and she glanced over to see a small pile of boxes tumble to the floor from out of the cat's hat.

"How-" Bianca trailed off, as Sasha patted the top hat and glanced inside to make sure it was empty.

"This is the only reason a magician wears a hat," Sasha explained casually. "Except for when it's summer. A good sunhat is essential for minimizing a potential sunburn!"

Lazarus regarded the presents for a long moment, before nodding his approval. Bianca breathed a sigh of relief.

"Excellent work, Molliere," The Sunsetter began to turn away, putting his attention back to the files he was reading. "Take them down to the incinerator at your convenience."

Sasha looked up at Lazarus, then watched as a troupe of Archivebots appeared from the catwalks to clean up the pile of presents from the desk and take them away, led by Bianca. His brow knitted in confusion, he couldn't help but speak up. 

"You're really going to burn them all?" Sasha asked, immediately regretting it as he realized the Chief Archivist was the only one there to answer him.

"What did you expect we were going to do with them, Mister Segreti?" The cog boss asked him in reply.

"Er... I mean- This is the Archive department," Sasha sputtered. "So... I thought you would archive... The presents??"

Lazarus scowled at the suggestion, with the same annoyance one would have at finding a leak in their sink faucet. 

"Do you think the other departments do this for gain?" The Sunsetter said. "Do the Cashbots waste a vault for wooden blocks and teddy bears? Do the Sellbots try and turn a profit on second-hand scooters?"

Sasha paused and thought about it.

"I don't know, this is my first year working here," Sasha admitted. "Do they do that?"

"Of course not," Lazarus said, rolling his eye. "This is a charity we do on Master Cyger's behalf. I have no insterest in your backwards toon festivities."

"Not even the pretty ones?" Sasha asked.

"When your kind is capable of producing something worthy of my collections, yes," The Archivist answered. "But outside of some truly fortunate artisans reaching the peak of their craft, I have found that number to be very, very low."

Sasha clutched at his cape, unsure of how to reply.

"You are dismissed, Mr Segretti."