Work Text:
This is life now.
It wasn't new information, it just hadn't quite set in until now.
The toons had Arthur and Delilah to thank for their existence. Well, maybe “thank” isn't the right word. It was more along the lines of “blame”. They were the ones responsible for the cycle the toons called life. Arthur, the mind, and Delilah, the means. The man with the ideas, and the woman that could bring them to life in the worst way possible.
Arthur was a kind man. But a spineless bastard all the same. Neithe he nor Delilah stopped to ask the vital question:
Should we be doing this?
Arthur was infatuated with the idea of bringing his creations to life. And Delilah? No one was fully sure what her motive was. They only had their own interests in mind. They didn't consider the long term. They were creating life, but they didn't stop to think about how those lives would exist, how they would feel about being treated like tools, rather than people.
It was cruel. No way around it.
How would these aspects of their design affect their daily lives? The thought never crossed their minds. Who cares if they struggle to perform basic day-to-day tasks? The claws look cool! That's what really matters. They were making characters, merchandise, money. Not people. They were made to exist, but not to live.
They all suffered for this negligence. Some more than others. And in the end, they were all abandoned. But some were more impacted by it than others. The mains had years to be the center of attention, years to be praised, valued above all the rest. The others were less popular, but still well liked.
But the holidays toons?
For them, Gardenview's closure hit hard. They had so little, and lost so much.
Imagine this:
You are made to exist for only one month of the year. But of course, it doesn't work that way. You're around for the whole year.
But you're not supposed to be.
They won't look at you, because it's not your turn to matter. Until the time comes, you are a stain on the pavement. Nothing more.
So you wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Waiting for the brief period of the year when they'll act like you're important.
The days start to blur together. They're all the same. You attend the party everyone pretends you're invited to.
No one fully understands what you're going through. It's just you and the other eleven souls condemned to the same fate. You have only each other, assuming you even have that.
But eventually, finally, your time comes.
The holiday season arrives. You're the face of it. You're the star of the show, even if only briefly.
All eyes on you. They finally stop pretending you don't exist. They acknowledge you. They see you.
You take it all in. You enjoy the moment. You see new faces. The children love you. You finally feel wanted.
And now it's over.
And the cycle begins again.
For ten straight years.
You get your moment in the spotlight, and you fade back into irrelevance. It's like you don't exist anymore. And you can't do anything about it. You're not important anymore.
No one talks about Santa in July.
It was nothing short of a miracle that the holidays were not only sane, but somewhat cheerful. On the outside at least. Bobette was happy at times, and she put on a brave face at other times. But her heart held a certain feeling. Something that wouldn't go away, no matter what she did.
Sorrow.
For the longest time, she could only tell that something was wrong. But not what it was. But today, it clicked.
Even in her happiest moments, there was a weight on her shoulders. Something holding her back, dragging her down. She never spoke out about it. She believed it to be normal. Delilah certainly treated it like it was. The feeling of being unwanted was intentional, right? That was by design, right? She believed that far longer than she should've. But what really hurt was the realization that followed.
It doesn't get any better.
Those thirty-one days of importance were everything to her. She spent every day looking forward to it. Knowing it was never going to be the same again hurt. Christmas would still come, but now she wasn't sure how to feel about it.
Should she be happy? It was the day she was made for. A reminder of all those times she felt wanted.
Or should she be sad? The audience was long gone. The holiday season wasn't nearly as special anymore. It was a reminder that the days where she mattered were never coming back.
It wasn't really bittersweet. It was just bitter.
But what could she really do about any of it? Nothing. Nothing at all. This was life now.
There had to be some way to make things better. Could she talk to her friends about it? No. They had experienced the same fate, arguably to a worse extent, since most of them weren't mains. No use in venting to them about something they already knew. Could she talk to one of the mains about it? Maybe. But she couldn't guarantee they would understand, since they were important all year round.
But maybe they would care?
It's not worth getting her hopes up. But she'll try.
And for everyone else? She'll have to wear the smile she's always worn. The situation is awful, but letting her sorrow control her would only make it worse for her. Worse for her friends. She cannot change the situation she's in, but she can try to accept it. No use in crying over something she can't control. That's what she told herself.
It won't make the feeling go away. It won't make things better. But it's really all she can do. She can only hope it'll be enough.
But she's not sure if it will be.