#If you told me like two weeks ago that I'd be writing Voiceplay fanfic I would be like “you're kidding me right”

[acaplaya-musings]

The Toymaker

(Based off of the video for Voiceplay's cover of Golden Hour, in case it wasn't immediately obvious)

The Toymaker had always had a gift for creation - above and beyond things like puppets you had to move using strings connected to a wooden frame, or dolls you could only have a conversation with if you did all the talking - but this was still going to be her biggest and most ambitious project yet: she was going to make The Perfect Man.

For the most part, The Toymaker didn't mind being by herself, and was more than used to finding ways to keep herself busy, but she couldn't help wondering on the odd occasion about what it might be like to have someone to keep her company; someone to share her ideas with, someone to greet her in the morning and wish her sweet dreams at night. All the half-decent men in the village, however, were either already taken, or only took interest in her when she made something new, and that was only until the novelty began to wear off. The Toymaker wasn't good at making friends, either; the other women in the village rarely seemed to share her enthusiasm for her latest contraptions, and she found little sympathy when discussing her desire for a relationship. However, it was a quip from one of the village ladies that had given her the idea:

"If you're so good at making things, then why don't you make yourself a husband?"

This hadn't sounded like a completely genuine/kind comment, but regardless, a lightbulb had lit up in her head, and as soon as she returned to her workshop, she began sketching and planning.

The face was what she started with, and after a bit of brainstorming (and a few nights with more used-up candles than hours of sleep), The Toymaker had created 5 different heads, which she placed on stands, side-by-side, on a table in the main workroom. She had experimented with appearances, from short hair to long hair to bald; from clean-shaven to a full beard, not to mention all the other differences between them, but she liked to keep her options open.

The heads weren't technically alive, yet (or not fully, at least), but The Toymaker still gently closed each pair of eyes before she went to bed at night, and "awakened" them each morning. It often seemed like the heads would watch her when she moved back and forth in their field of vision, though she never felt unsettled by it. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light the whole time, but sometimes, when she was having a cup of coffee or reading in another room, The Toymaker swore she could hear soft singing coming from the main workroom; five different voices, echoing the kind of music she would occasionally sing or hum to herself when hard at work.

The legs were the next main component to be designed (long, but not overly lanky), followed by the arms (strong, but not excessively brawny). Then The Toymaker spent some time tailoring some clothes for her creation to wear, just as she had done for herself many a time. As she worked, the Toymaker thought about which head she was going to choose. She felt like she had grown somewhat fond of all five of them, as strange as it sounded even to herself sometimes. Maybe she could make bodies for all of them, if this first creation was a success. And after all, her new man might get lonely and want friends, and what better friends than those that started off in the same circumstances as you? But she couldn't get too ahead of herself. The Toymaker had designed a body, and now she had to choose a head to connect to it, and there was one in particular that she couldn't stop thinking about...

The heads weren't fully alive (or weren't supposed to be, anyway), so she was unsure whether or not they actually slept when she closed their eyelids each night. But regardless, The Toymaker waited until early morning the next day, when the heads still had their eyes closed, to gently and quietly lift up the head furthest on the right, and carry it over to the body she had made, which she had seated at a table in another room, where she often had her meals and drank coffee. She had ensured her design included strong lungs and a good-sized voicebox, inspired by the vocal melodies she sometimes heard from the workroom. Even if she had just been imagining them the whole time, it would be quite nice to have someone who might sing to her from time to time.

The Toymaker was an artisan, not a scientist, and so the body looked more like that of a large and overly-detailed marionette rather than a human, but that was no matter. As she gave the head a light kiss on the forehead, and joined the neck to the shoulders, The Toymaker's framework of wood, cloth, and string, turned into real flesh and bone. The chest rose and fell, taking its first breaths, and the head, now part of a full man, blinked his eyes as he came to. He looked up at her, wide-eyed and with innocent curiosity, before turning his attention to the rest of himself. The man slowly raised one hand, and then the other, turning them back and forth in front of his face, while The Toymaker took a seat opposite him at the table. She offered him her outstretched hand, quietly unsure of how he would respond, but the man placed his hand in hers, and smiled. It was a slightly-stretched, toothy smile of someone who has never tried smiling before, but it was still incredibly endearing, and The Toymaker saw sincerity in his hazel eyes.

And as the rays of dawn shone through the window, painting the room in a golden glow, The Toymaker knew that it didn't matter whether he really was "perfect" or not; this was the man she wanted to spend her days with.