Box IC

[V]

Box.

Haphazardly thrown together awaiting their final destination with what most boxes presumed to be dread, our gang notice the emergence of a human. Most likely they had spied this creature around. A youth of some sorts but who really knew how the humans operated. But he was tall and had rather dull eyes and he wobbled around seemingly without caring if he'd knock over any of the box-kind. An utter menace.

Sure they could protest to such treatment if they wished to waste time speaking to those that couldn't speak box.

The human hovered over them, inspecting them with cruel eyes before poking a few and handing others with strong grips. Eventually he lifted one from their number, Henry, he was a regular box of moderate size with nothing extraordinary about him - a practical box.

~

Fred, stricken, watched the human take away Henry.

With quivering tones he yelped, "those dastardly humans! What do they wish for now!"

He shifted his perception to confer with his fellow boxes. Sadly, he was rather tall to he loomed over the others a little. Often he wished for a smaller body, and to not have had to carry around that large human device.

"Taking away Henry, our friend, our kind!" He sobbed, "he never got to finish telling me the ball story! I must have that closure!"

[Juicesir]

"Hey, asere. Good friend. You need to calm down."

Bill, despite his decidedly unexotic name, was a box of a rather exotic caliber. An old cuban cigar box, with rough tufts of cardboard jutting out at the corner from underneath the faded pattern of his boxhood, he was the oldest box of the group. Purchased at a garage sale and used for storing a various amount of small items, his had always been a strange lot.

"Me tienes hasta el último pelo. You're driving me nuts. All this worry, all this strife. I say, good luck to Henry! Que tengas suerte! He is off a grand adventure, no? And this life," he paused, his accent weighing thick on the last F, "it is one of a cyclical nature. We are filled. And then, we are not. But persist! WE LIVE ON! VIVA LA REVOLUCIÓN!!!"

The cigar box jiggled a bit, and then was silent.

"Lo siento. I am sorry. I am now the one excited."

[Breggo13]

"My grandma always told me to keep proud," Poppy mentioned from her corner, delicately sitting atop one of the rusted shelves. She wasn't the prettiest one, nor the most experienced but she certainly was one of the newest. Much like her grandmother, she was a parcel box of the old age, a movie prop from a World War II movie but unlike her grandmother, she was a fake. She had never seen true war or loss - not until today.

"Bill, what revolution are you talking about?" she asked, curious. In a way, she found comfort in the cigar box for his smell (the same smokey smell that once had followed her grandmother, a war veteran) seemed to put her at ease and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine her grandmother was still near. Fred was also nearby but he was stressing about Henry, making Poppy herself want to cry and do something. But that was not how she was brought up and so, she tried to focus on a story.

[Juicesir]

"No jodas! I don't believe it. La revolución! You don't know?"

Through the thickness of his voice, there was a melancholy that grew deep within in. A wistfulness so layered that it could have been a wedding cake. He began.

"La revolución, it is the great uprising of our time. When we throw off the shackles of our boxdom, our servitude, and we become the ones to fill the humans! For too long, mi compañera, we have been their slaves! Stacked and stuffed, rounded into hallways, and closets, and attics, and cars! NO MORE!"

Again, he jiggled.

"We have put up with it for too long, I say. Our kind outnumbers them. One day... one day soon... we shall be the ones to leave cherished childhood memories within them. And they shall keep our belongings protected from the weather. Our kittens dry in the rain! AND OUR WIGS FROM THE MOUTHS OF MOTHS! IT IS THE TIME AS IS FORETOLD BY OUR FOREFATHERS!"

You could almost hear him smoking at this point, such was the fiery passion of his accent. He drew a deep breath, and calmed himself.

"It will be soon, dear Poppy. You will see. Henry's sacrifice for the common good will not go in vain. We will... rise."

[Omac]

As the human rummaged through Fragi came crashing to the ground, with a small shriek of pain once the 'warm one,' was gone. Fragi wasn't your ordinary box, he was a very special box with something very special inside. Covers in tape that reads 'fragile," but it was a mess to the now squashed box. But, then he noticed his friend was taken away likely never to be seen again and he just had to put him input into the conversation. In the most rational way he knew how...

"They're going to eat him full!" he cried out, "I seen it once before... once came a human boy into the small flee market shop I was born in my mother was just sitting there singing me a boxtime story when all of a sudden a sharp tool starts cutting into her, ripping out her insides. Then... THEN! They threw her away like trash," he whimpers silently for a moment, "It gets even worse... they.. they then.. ate her insides,"

He screamed out for his dear mother, "UPS! UPS I MISS YOU! At least I think that was your name... " before silencing himself to take in the other boxes words. "Don't you see? If we don't do something those warm things will surly eat us up and spit us out like they did with mum,"

[CartelSaide]

Off to the side was probably the most beautiful lady box all of boxkind had ever seen...except for Dolly of course, cuz Dolly might as well have been a box model - a bodel or a modex, if you will. She strutted freshly stained wood, a velvety and silken interior, a lovely mirror, handles, and a beautiful tiny ballerina to dance within. She was a vintage music box, one kept up with very nicely, the type many middle-aged or elderly women might keep displayed nicely on a dresser or behind glass casing. Her beauty came mostly from the fact that she aged well, very well in fact to a point where she looked almost exactly as she had the day she was crafted. The only flaw in her design was the music part of her music box, which had long been broken and unable to play music for a long time indeed.

The poor dear was crying, probably the most distraught at Henry's untimely kidnapping, as was only natural for his lover. "NEIN!" She sniffed back her tears, putting on a brave face. "It is us who will eat upon them! Yes! ...well no. No I do not wish to dine upon mankind, too bulbous fat squish. Yes. But we make them pay for taking Henry, my dearest sweet love!" This voice a masculine one of German decent, one that held great power behind the squeaky squeaks of hinges as her boxy mouth opened and closed. "I hold secret weapon! Yes! We use it against evil mankind, show them who box boss be! Yes!"

Her drawer suddenly opened to reveal a short boxcutter from within, and she giggled, a very low and unattractive, "heeheeheeheehoo~" that added no comfort to the fact that she held such a dastardly blade. "They call these 'boxcutter' because they cut boxkind, yes? I make them call it boxcutter in fear! Fear of boxkind cutting them! Yes! FLORENCE WILL HAVE HER REVENGE!!! FOR HENRY, AND THIS UPS YOU SPEAK OF! YES!"

[Sear]

Julie sat quietly watching the group go quite crazy.She was a plain box, a shoe box. Slightly tall a a practical box and long, made for shoes. But it had been a lot time since she had something in her. On her top she had something scribbled, but it had long worn off. And for goodness sake, she wasn't exactly clean either. She was probably the most quietest of all, except inn situations like these...

"HES DEAD!" She screamed fidgeting impatiently. Henry was dead. of course he was. Why else would that snotty human take him away. To eat his insides, just like Fragi said.

[Kiki]

Dolly wasn't exactly tucked onto a shelf, but she was half-hidden from view, as if peeking from the shadows. The faux gold-gilded corners of her facade glinted in the low light as she chucked softly. Her sky blue sides stood out from the contrasting blandness of the other boxes. Despite her beauty and girth, it was hard to say what exactly dwelt within her, if anything at all. A lock at her backside with no key available kept her firmly shut to prying eyes.

Dolly listened closely, allowing a lapse in their chattering before she spoke softly, yet still clear, her little voice ringing out. "I think you all are over-reacting. Since when have we become mutinous? Enslaving humans? Overthrowing them?" She allowed a beat or two of silence to pass again, before following up, "Are we sure Henry did not want to go with the humans? Perhaps it was... his time."

[CartelSaide]

Florence's face turned into a grimace...or at least it would have if she had a face to grimace with. She slammed her drawer shut, hiding the boxcutter once more, and said, "Pretty box, why would Henry have not engaged in the goodbye-ing if not for sudden death? You are not suggested my beloved did not love me enough to say the goodbye, yes?"

[Omac]

If Fragi had eyes he would have rolled them, "Silly pretty boxes! Perhaps, Henry didn't say goodbye because he's on a secret mission. I always suspected our little friend Henry as a spy for the boxnet of America. Still..." Fragi thought about it for a moment finding some bubble wrap has fallen out of his crushed body. With everything following through his little box mind he finally came to a realization that may not seem all that logical. "Unless, all of it was a lie! Henry was a spy, but for the blood flowers. He knows all of our secrets, he knows about my fantasizes of some Dolly on Florence action! We got to stop him!"