Archive of Our Own

There’s a wall around his town now. A wall. Jimmy can’t even begin to imagine how many blocks it is. How long it must have taken to gather all the materials, all the dye, and how much effort it must have taken to build. And it was built quickly too, practically overnight, otherwise he would have seen it slowly rising into the sky or heard about it from his citizens.

He hates it.

He knows exactly what it’s supposed to be. After Pixlriffs had given him an allay, making him unknowingly complete the achievement You’ve Got A Friend in Me, he had read up on Toy Story. He wanted to know when he was being insulted, to understand what sly little references the other people in the realm would make.

Towering over him is the wallpaper from Andy’s room. It makes Tumble Town look like a joke. It makes his town look like the set to a movie, like a dollhouse one of the children running around town might have. It makes it look fake. As though if someone were to look too close, they would find that indeed, all of them are dolls. Toys for people to drop in, play with, and then abandon until they feel like tormenting Jimmy and his citizens again.

He hates it.

The bright blue mocks him. It’s so much brighter than the sky, garishly so, and it’s hard to look at. Even the puffy clouds- which look good, although he’ll never admit that, not even on pain of death- irritate him. He wants to scream. He wants to blow something up. He wants to burn something down, to attack someone, to do something.

He hates it.

There’s the crack of a rocket exploding, a whoosh, and then Joel is standing in front of him. “Heeeeey Jimmy,” he says with a giant cheshire grin. “I love the decorations you’ve got up.”

Jimmy growls and glares. He should have known. He grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, and brushes by the god. But Joel doesn’t like that; he grabs Jimmy’s arm in a grip so tight that Jimmy’s sure he’ll have bruises tomorrow, and says, “Aw, come on now. Don’t be like that. It shouldn’t matter- you’re a toy! It’s your natural habitat!”

“I’m not a toy,” Jimmy hisses. “Stop- stop calling me that!”

“It’s okay,” Joel says, using a finger to knock Jimmy’s hat off-kilter. “You’re in denial. It’s only a matter of time before you realize.”

“Don’t,” Jimmy growls.

He snatches his hat off his head, holding it tight within his grip, and wrenches his arm from Joel’s grip. He whirls around and marches away, back towards the tunnel so he can make his way to his house.

He hates it. He hates people calling him a toy, he hates that they don’t stop no matter how upset he gets, no matter how much he rages. It’s funny to them. They keep teasing him and teasing him- and it’s no longer teasing. He’s not having fun. He’s not okay with it. It’s not a joke anymore. He wants it to stop, but no one does. They keep calling him a toy, they keep building Toy Story stuff around Tumble Town, and they just won’t leave him alone.

He storms back to his house, wanting nothing more than to see Norman even though the day has just begun.

“Hey Norman,” he says, throwing his hat carelessly to the ground. He kneels down, arms open, as Norman sprints towards him. He gets an armful of cat, and he buries his face in Norman’s fur. “I think I’m gonna stay home for the day. You won’t mind, will you?”

Norman meows.

“Lovely,” he murmurs into Norman’s fur. “I’ll give you treats to make up for it.”

He stands, Norman in his arms, and makes his way over to an old armchair of his sitting by one of the windows. He sits, Norman settling on his lap, and stares out at the brightly colored terracotta.

His thoughts race as his hands absentmindedly run over Norman’s fur. He doesn’t like being called a toy, but he doesn’t know how to get it to stop.

You’re in denial. It’s only a matter of time before you realize, Joel had said.

Realize what? That he was doomed? That he’s a toy? He won’t ever, because he’s not. he’s never going to accept it, he’s never going to give in-

And he pauses.

They keep saying he’s a toy, so… what if he ‘gives in’? What if he finally becomes a toy like they all wish?

Not actually! He’s not going to go to the Great Witch Shubble for a potion, not when she always seems so nervous around him. He wouldn’t go to anyone with magic, because those people are either gods that mock him or have magic that wouldn’t help. But if he could fake being a toy…

He isn’t quite sure about it. There’s every chance that pretending to be a toy could backfire, but he’s just so tired of the joke. He wants it to stop. If he accepts it, if he plays into it enough with just the right amount of unsettling, then he could make everyone else hate the bit as much as he does. He could make them let it go.

There’s a small vindictive part of him that whispers, and they’ll deserve it.

He needs to stop protesting when people call him a toy, Jimmy realizes. It’ll start slow; he’ll quietly protest, or he’ll trail off, and let the mocking continue. It needs to be a slow descent, a gradual acceptance. Something that seems natural, so when the big reveal happens- because it has to be a big reveal if he’s going to shock them enough- it’ll seem as though everything is clicking into place.

Jimmy isn’t taking the idea lightly. If he’s going to open himself up to being called a toy, if his goal is truly to unsettle everyone enough that they finally let the bit go, he needs to go all in. He needs to do this right. He needs to plan out even the smallest of details so that no one will question him.

He puts aside ideas for builds for the time being. He’ll still patrol his town, he'll uphold the law and take care of his citizens, but the rest of his time will be devoted to planning. 

He needs to be a convincing doll, and the most important thing will be his looks. He’s a human; he’s made of flesh and blood with smooth, seamless skin. A doll, on the other hand, is made of plastic or porcelain or fabric.

Fabric, Jimmy decides, will probably be the easiest thing to imitate. Porcelain is delicate, stiff, and rare, and plastic would melt in the heat of the badlands, which means fabric is his best bet. It’s also the easiest for him to make on his own- because he has to make it on his own. He needs to leave no trace of what he’s doing, no trail for anyone to follow.

He’s had very little sewing practice, but he was the one who put the pattern of the Sheriff's badge on his elytra. His stitching is crooked, the edges of the fabric making up the badge frayed and uneven, but he wanted to do it himself. He protects this town, and he takes pride in it, and he was ever so proud to become the Sheriff. He wanted something to remember his promotion by.

Now, the needle and paltry amount of thread he had left over sit somewhere in his chests. He doesn’t exactly know where, as it’s been years since he touched them, but he knows they’re in there.

He wants to look for them right away, but he can’t. It’s still somewhere around midday, and Jimmy’s got duties to attend to. Law to uphold. So he swaggers on into town, head held high and more relaxed than he has been in months. He can find them in the evening.

He patrols the town, although what that really means is starting up conversations with the residents. He talks with the barmaid, who gives him a bright smile even as she tosses a cursing drunkard out of her saloon. He tips his hat to the prostitutes, even as his face flushes red when they call out to him, giggling, but is then quickly distracted by the children running around the streets. They pull him into their game, and Jimmy laughs as he chases after them, the big strong sheriff ready to catch the rascally little bandits.

He watches a dance over in the town center and stops to help one of the elders repair his house. It was damaged by a recent storm, and the bandits racing through town- the actual bandits, not the kids pretending- had caused further damage to it as ‘incentive.’ He gives the man a guilty smile, but the man just waves him off, thanking him for his help.

Jimmy finishes up the day with a visit to the saloon. Not for a drink, not when he’s got a goal in mind like this, but rather to check with the barmaid. She’s got connections to every person in town, so if there’s trouble, she’d know.

“Sara!” he cries, sliding into a barstool.

She smiles over at him, finishes serving the man at the opposite end of the bar before walking on over.

“Sherrif!” she cries in return. “It’s been a bit since ye’ve been around here.”

“I got held up by some business,” Jimmy says apologetically before a smile creeps onto his face, “But I can’t stay away from a beauty like you.”

“Oh stop,” she laughs. She settles her arms on the bar, and her biceps flex. “What can I do for ya’ Jimmy?”

Jimmy leans against the bar as well, but he doesn’t quite relax. He’s the Sheriff, after all, he’s got a town he needs to be ready to protect at the drop of a hat . “I just wanted to know if you’ve had any trouble?”

“Oh, nah. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sara shrugs and nods in the general direction of the rest of the saloon. “These fellows don’ cause a lotta trouble, an’ you always take care of the bandits. We’ve been good here.”

Jimmy nods, satisfied. “Good. Remember, if you ever need any help-”

“You’ll be here faster ‘n a phantom can fly,” Sara finishes. “I know, I know.”

Jimmy smiles a little sheepishly, but even if she might be annoyed that he repeats himself- which her annoyance is more fond than irritated- he’ll keep doing it so long as he’s Sheriff.

He pushes himself off the bar, and tips his hat to her. “Well, it was good seein’ you’ ma’am, but I’ve got somethin’ I wanna take care of.”

“Nothin’ that’s given’ you too much trouble, I hope.”

“Oh no, no trouble at all. Just… a little pet project I want ta’ work on.”

Sara looks delighted at the idea. “That’s wonderful! It’s about time ya’ do somethin’ for yourself Jimmy!”

Jimmy doesn’t bother replying, instead giving her a wave. “See ya’ around!”

“You better not up and disappear for another buncha’ days!” she hollers after him. “I better see ya’ stop in at least once this week!”

Jimmy gives her a wave over his shoulder, and then sets off for his house. The sun is going down, and even though both his house and Tumble Town are settled within a valley, warm golden light still makes its way down to them. It bounces off the terracotta cliffs, lighting them up with dazzling hues of red and orange and white.

He lights the various candles scattered about his house, both in lanterns and sitting atop tables or window sills, and he sets a lantern down beside him as he turns towards his chests. His needle and thread are sure to be in there somewhere.

He searches through four different chests before he finally finds them at the bottom of a fifth one. The needle is intact, although the same cannot be said for the thread, which somehow came unraveled from the spool and got tangled where it sat. He doesn’t even remember how he got this thread to begin with, meaning he probably bought it somewhere. He can’t do that this time, not if he wants to leave no trace.

Oh well. It shouldn’t be too hard to make his own, right? He would’ve needed more anyways, he barely had any left.

By now the sun has completely set, making it perfect to hunt mobs. Spiders should do. They’ll drop string, and then Jimmy can scrounge up some ink sack to dye it black. His plan is flawless. Clearly.

He hikes up the side of the valley, pulling himself over the rim to where there’s no lighting. Everything down below is lit up to keep the residents of Tumble Town safe at night, so he has to make the trek up here if he wants to find mobs. Already, he can see the land around him swarming with them, so Jimmy locates his first spider, picks up his sword, and charges.

He gets an entire stack of string, and decides that’s enough for the moment. He’s not looking to stay out too late, and he wants to see if this will work. So he makes his way back to his house, pulls out the ink sacks, and starts dyeing.

It… does not go as planned. He tries to apply the dye- and Norman jumping up onto the table to bat at the string does not help- but it doesn’t stick. At best, it just tints the string grey. It leaves his hands stained, his table stained, and there are pawprints from where Norman walked right over some of the string he was waiting to dry. He tries again, but it doesn’t work, and frustrated, he sweeps everything off the table and into a chest. He’ll deal with it in the morning. He tries his best to ignore the frustration burning in his chest and the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he struggles to fall asleep.

In the morning, when his head is a little clearer, he looks at the mess of string and dye and decides that this won’t do. He scrubs the dye from his hands and makes his way into town, trying to decide whether it might be better to ask the prostitutes or Sara where he can get some thread, or how one might go about making it. In the end, he decides upon asking Sara. He’ll get out of the encounter without flushing bright red from relentless teasing.

“Jimmy!” Sara is delighted to see him again. “How’s yer project goin’?”

“Not super great.” Jimmy shrugs. “I was hopin’ you might be able to tell me how I can get some thread? If you could let me know how ta’ make it that’d be better, but if it’s really complicated I can just go an’ buy it.”

“Oh! That’s quite easy honey. Ya gotta use wool from any sheep you’ve got nearby, and then you put the wool to a spindle to make it into thread.”

“Ah…” Jimmy flushes, rubbing the back of his head. “A spindle?”

Sara laughs. “Yes, dear, a spindle. Judgin’ by yer reaction, I figure you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about?”

“No ma’am.” Jimmy dips his head in apology.

“No worries,” Sara says, and she bends over to reach for something under the bar. “If you want, I could give you some.”

She pulls out a box, plops it down onto the bar, and opens it to reveal spool upon spool of thread. And there’s not just black thread either; there’s tons of colors, as many as there are in the rainbow and more.

“I couldn’t,” Jimmy breathes, waving his hands about. “Really, I couldn't, it’s yours-”

“Nonsense. What color do ya need?” And without waiting for Jimmy to reply, she starts to pick out various spools of thread. “It’s the least I could do for all ya’ do for this town.”

“Really, I can’t-”

“You will.” Sara looks up, and her gaze is sharp. “It’s a gift, Jimmy, for th’ work you put in protectin’ this town. Take more pride in it. Accept credit where credit is due.”

He shrinks under her gaze. “Yes ma’am.”

Her gaze softens, and she gives him a smile. “Really. It’s the least I can do for ya’. You always tell us if we need help, to let ya’ know and you’ll be here in a jiffy. We want to help you too.”

“I- thanks.” Sara pushes the thread into his arms, and he doesn’t resist. He stares down at the colors- black, red, blue, brown, and yellow- and smiles. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Sara packs up her box, putting it back below the bar. “I’ll see ya’ around, Sheriff.”

Jimmy drops the thread off at his house, setting it down on the table beside his needle. His fingers are itching to start- to re-familiarize himself with sewing, to get used to the feeling of a thin piece of metal in his hands that glides through fabric like a fish through water- but he’s got to patrol the town. So, with a final, forlorn glance, he makes his way back into town.

The entire day, he’s distracted. He still helps out around town, but he’s less talkative. He stares off into space a little more often, and even though he’s sheepish about it, laughing apologetically whenever someone has to grab his attention, he keeps doing it.

He practically runs back to his house. Norman runs to the door to greet him, and Jimmy gathers him in his arms, but his attention is more focused on the needle and thread sitting on the table.

He needs cloth, he realizes. He shifts Norman to one of his arms and digs through the chests, searching for some fabric to practice on. He can’t find any, so he runs up the stairs to dig through his closet for something old. Some of these things he hasn’t worn in years, they’ll be perfect to practice on.

He finds a couple of old shirts, as well as a pair of pants with so many holes that they’re useless. He walks back downstairs, Norman balanced in one arm and his clothes in the other, and places everything on the table. Norman meows and settles down on one of his shirts.

Now he just needs to figure out what to make. He wants to make something, because he has no idea how to practice stitches otherwise.

Norman meows again, and Jimmy’s eyes light up. That’s it! He can make a matching vest for Norman!

And then he realizes that it also means cutting out fabric in the shape of a vest. He needs to measure things correctly, and he doesn’t even know if he has any scissors around- maybe a pair of shears would work?

He finds some spare iron in one of his chests, makes the shears and sits back down at the table. Hesitantly, he reaches out and tugs the pair of pants from beneath Norman. He takes the shears and digs them into the seams of his pants and starts ripping.

It doesn’t look pretty. The shears are big- he definitely needs to get himself some scissors- and it nicks the fabric as he tears the stitches. But he ends up with two decently sized pieces of fabric, and he considers that good enough.

He takes one of the pieces and holds it against Norman. He doesn’t know how to measure out the fabric- it’ll probably require yet another tool- so this is the best he can do for now. It’s not going to matter that much at the moment anyways. He’s just practicing stitching, he can learn how to do everything else later.

He doesn’t quite know what to do to mark out his measurements, so he just eyes it and then takes a guess. The shears do a better job of cutting the fabric than they do ripping out stitches, and he cuts out two different pieces for the vest so there’ll be a seam running down the middle. And then to hide the seam, he can stitch a sheriff's badge to the back of it! It’s perfect!

The sun is setting, so Jimmy lights some candles and gets to work.

“Why isn’t it working,” Jimmy hisses.

Here’s the thing. The vest in front of him doesn’t look bad, per say, but it looks like a child made it. Jimmy needs to be better. He needs to be so good at sewing that he’s on par with Katherine’s skill. He needs to be so good that it seems like he’s a professional, that the costume he’s going to make to pretend to be a doll looks completely natural.

Instead, his stitches are large and sloppy, easily visible to anyone who isn’t even looking for them. He pricks his fingers more often than not, leaving drops of blood scattered along the fabric. He’s been trying. This is his third attempt at the vest, and it barely looks better than his first.

He throws the vest to the ground with a frustrated shout. He stands, his chair clattering to the ground, and storms outside. He needs to cool off.

His temper has a habit of getting the better of him. He’s well aware of that fact, given that on his second attempt he ended up mangling the fabric with his shears as he tried to take out his stitches because they were too lopsided. He just can’t help it, not when people make fun of him, not when his efforts prove to be completely useless. It just bubbles up inside him until one snide remark or one little mistake makes everything come spilling out with a loud voice and angry words.

He tries not to let it get the best of him. He really, really does, but it’s difficult. Eventually, one way or another, his anger comes bursting out.

Times like this, when it’s late at night and he’s alone, he’s taken to climbing up the side of the valley to the top, where everything is flat and unlit, and mobs spawn freely. He takes out his sword and starts swinging, charging the mobs that come rushing at him, taking hits and returning them with twice the amount of force.

It's not the safest thing. Sometimes he gets down to only a few hearts, and has to scramble for a shield he may-or-may-not have. If he’s out of luck, he has to scramble for blocks, boxing himself in before the spider can reach him or the skeleton can shoot. But it helps. It wears him out until his anger is gone, until he no longer feels like taking his sword to whatever it is that’s frustrating him.

Tonight, there’s an overabundance of creepers. Jimmy takes a deep breath, knowing he’s going to need to be quick on his toes, and throws himself into the fray. He fights until his muscles burn, until he’s gasping for air but unable to stop for fear of being blown up. He loses himself in the feeling of danger, watching carefully for the moment a creeper is on the verge of exploding, darting for the gunpowder they drop. It’ll help pad out his store, since few people actually pay for the gunpowder he sells.

When his muscles are aching and his head is close to empty, and when he knows that if another creeper were to approach he might not be able to move out of the way in time, he makes his way back to his house. The walk- more of a slide, really- down the side of the valley is treacherous with his shaking legs, but he manages. He sits on the porch, staring out at the night sky, and it isn’t long before Norman finds him, jumping up next to him and curling up against his leg.

“Hey buddy,” Jimmy says, running his hand lightly over Norman’s fur. “Had a fun time while I was gone?”

Norman purrs.

Jimmy sighs, settling further down into the bench and turning his gaze back out towards the horizon. His mind would drift, if not for the fact that the aching of the burn on his arm pulls him back into awareness.

Absent-mindedly, he wonders if he really would be able to pull this off. If he can really pretend to be a doll, if he can really endure all the remarks that make his blood boil. He can’t even sew a simple vest, how could he pull off pretending to be a doll?

His arm aches, and he looks down and is surprised to see blood dripping from it. Huh. Normally explosions don’t draw blood. Maybe some shrapnel from the explosions nicked him.

He doesn’t want to get up, not with Norman at his side, so he does his best to use the rest of his tattered sleeve to mop it up. It’s much quicker than running inside to get bandages. He stares down at the bloody fabric, and he realizes that that, too, is something he would have to fix.

There’s… so much he has to do if he’s to pretend to be a doll. He needs to not just be good at sewing, but excellent. He needs to be so good that there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that it’s not natural for him. That he’s not done it hundreds of times before. And he needs to change every aspect of his appearance. A full body costume. Something that covers up every inch of flesh, so he looks unnatural. And, he knows now as he stares down at the blood covering his arm, he can’t bleed.

To bleed would give it away. It would indicate that he is made of flesh, not fabric, and that he is a human. It might make people angry, to think they might be tricking him, and if he were to do this, that can not happen.

He can’t exactly change his insides. That’s too difficult, and it would require the help of someone who would then have to be in on the prank. He doesn’t want to leave any hint of what he’s planning, so that only leaves taking no damage at all. Which means getting good at dodging.

He looks down at his arm and snorts. Yeah. ‘Cause he’s so good at that.

This is going to take so much more work than he thought, he realizes. This isn’t going to take a week- it’s going to take many. At least a month, if he had to guess, if not more. It’s a long term plan, requiring skills he needs to learn and a slow but gradual descent to trick people into thinking that yes, this is actually happening.

So. Dodging, huh. He moves his arm, and winces at the way the damaged skin pulls at his arm. But the rest of him feels okay, if a bit achey, so with a deep breath he gets to his feet. 

Time to practice.

The creepers are a good place to start. There’s not a lot of finesse in dodging their explosions. It mostly just means hurling yourself to the side and hoping you started moving early enough. He can start here, though, and then move onto spiders and zombies, and then skeletons.

He spends the rest of the night dodging creeper explosions and collecting their gunpowder. There are other mobs, of course, but he targets the creepers, running up to them, watching them pulse and hiss, and then throwing himself to the side moments before they explode. He takes damage- he’s not good at this- but even if he doesn’t feel like he’s getting anywhere, at least he’s trying.

It becomes a routine. He’ll patrol town during the day, and then as the evening rolls around and everyone settles down in their homes, he’ll practice sewing. When he gets too frustrated by his attempts- which is often, and happens quickly- he’ll head up to practice dodging mobs until the moon is high in the sky.

He ends up with his fingers pricked from the needle, and his body littered with wounds, big and small alike. Thankfully he heals faster than the average villager, so he’s still able to carry out his duties the next day.

It’s… taking a toll. While his instincts are getting better, while he’s better at dodging and at knowing where a blow is aiming, sometimes he's just so tired that he misses a mob coming up behind him. Or he’ll be clumsier than usual in town the next day, his aching muscles making it hard to function normally, waving off the concern of his citizens with a laugh.

“Alright,” Sara finally says about two weeks later, planting herself in front of Jimmy with crossed arms and a frown, “I said don’t disappear, and ya’ did, and ya’ show up to town lookin’ like this. What’s wrong with you.”

Jimmy blinks at her once, twice, and then registers her question. “I, uh, I’m fine, really,” he says. “Just haven’t been getting enough sleep lately.”

“Mhm.” She raises an eyebrow. “Pull the other one. A lack of sleep doesn’t leave you lookin’ as though you got mauled by a Ravager.”

Jimmy opens his mouth to respond, and then he hesitates.

“Yes?” Sara asks impatiently.

“Could you help me sew,” he ends up blurting out instead.

He’s startled by his question, not expecting to actually ask for help, and Sara looks just as taken aback as he is.

“I- If you want, I guess, but Jimmy, that still doesn’ answer the question.”

Jimmy still doesn’t know if he wants to reveal what he’s been planning. He still isn’t entirely sure if he’d be able to pull it off, and he’s just… hesitant. He doesn’t know how the idea would be taken. So instead, he tells- practically begs- her, “Please leave it. I’m fine. I will be. Teachin’ me to sew will make it better, if that helps.”

Sara studies him with eyes that see through everything; it’s how she knows who to keep an eye on, how she knows when to cut someone off. Finally, she nods. “Alright. I trust ya’, Sheriff.”

Jimmy breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

Sara relaxes, unfolding her arms and leaning against the bar. “So, sewing lessons, ya’ ask? Is that why you wanted thread two weeks ago?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate, because he knows he’s terrible at lying. Yet another thing he’s going to need to work on.

“Where d’ya wanna start?” she asks. When Jimmy doesn’t respond, looking sheepish, she nods. “From the beginning then. Ya got anything happenin’ now?”

Jimmy glances towards the door almost reflexively. “I, well, the day’s not over yet.”

“If that’s what ya want,” Sara replies with a nod.

Still, Jimmy hesitates. Nothing’s really happened today, and he doesn’t hear any scuffles outside.

“Unless… you want a bit of a break?” Sara offers.

Jimmy gives in immediately. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Not too long though.”

Sara grins. “You’ve got yerself a deal, Jimmy. Now, you got anything on ya?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “It’s all back in my house.”

“That’s alright.” She crouches down to pull out the same kit she grabbed thread from. “I’ve got some extra stuff on hand you can use. Here or upstairs?”

It takes him a moment to realize she’s asking where she would like to learn, and his decision is immediate. “Here.” It’ll be easier to take off if anything happens in town.

She nods, and there’s an air of fondness to her. Like she expected that answer. “You got it. Gimme a moment to grab some fabric from upstairs, then we’ll begin.”

Sara doesn’t know anything fancy. She just does repairs to her own clothing for the most part, only making something new once every few years, but what she teaches Jimmy is exactly what he needs to know. For example, there are types of stitches. There are many different types of stitches. Jimmy didn’t know that, let alone know that all of them had names. It’s the first thing Sara teaches him, and they spend their first lesson practicing the different types of stitches on spare pieces of fabric that Sara had lying around.

Jimmy’s attempts don’t look anything like Sara’s. His stitches aren’t evenly spaced and they zig-zag and curve across the fabric instead of running in a straight line. It looks messy and ugly and, well, like a beginner did it. It’s nowhere near where he wishes they would be.

It’ll come with time, Sara reassures him, time and practice. She tells him that for a beginner, he’s doing a fantastic job. Even if he doesn’t completely believe her, it still makes his chest puff out with pride.

Unfortunately, Jimmy has to leave early. One of his citizens bursts through the saloon doors, begging for help. His child is nowhere to be found. Jimmy gives Sara an apology, but with a smile and a snort she tells him, “It’s alright. I’m not goin’ anywhere, you can come back when yer ready to pick up yer lessons again.”

Thankfully, the child had only wandered into some nearby abandoned mines. Jimmy finds her deep within them, crying, unable to find her way out. She’s unharmed though, as the mines were stable, and they had been lit and cleared of anything dangerous long ago.

“I just wanted to find treasure,” she wails as Jimmy picks her up in her arms. “Papa always says that he finds all a’ his gold in the mines, and I wanted- I wanted to find some for him.”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy soothes, his mind racing for a way to calm her down. “What about this- we go let your papa know that you’re alright, and then I can take you into the mines myself and we can search for something together.”

She sniffles, but her tears slow. “Really?”

“Of course!” Jimmy places a hand over his heart, giving her an exaggerated puppy-dog-eyes look. “Would I lie to you?”

She gives him a look, and there’s a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Yes.”

Jimmy gasps, stumbling as though he’s been hurt, but still keeping his balance while making sure his grip on her is firm. “Me?! I would never!”

She giggles, her tears forgotten, and the entire way back Jimmy spouts out a rant about how he’s the most trustworthy one here, swearing that he’s never told a single lie ever in his life, and the child giggles all the way back to her father. They exit the mines, blinking rapidly to adjust to the daylight, and then the child screeches, “Papa!” and throws herself from Jimmy’s arms, sprinting towards her father.

“Annie,” he breathes, scooping her up into his arms. “You can’t do that.”

“Sorry,” she says, her voice small, shrinking away from him.

“She’s perfectly alright,” Jimmy tells him. “She just wanted to go on a little adventure.”

He throws an exaggerated wink to Annie, who giggles. He pretends it’s just a secret between him and her, but the wink was exaggerated as it was so her father could catch it too. That way, even if he thinks his daughter is keeping a secret, he knows that the Sheriff approves and is looking out for her.

“In the mines?” he asks anyways, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep!” Annie nods furiously. “I wanted to see where you work is like.”

Her father hums, but lets the matter drop. “Alright.”

“If I could borrow her back tomorrow,” Jimmy cuts in, “I’d like to take her down to the mines, proper mines, so that way she explores them safely and doesn’t feel the need to go wandering off again.”

Annie’s father agrees, and the Sheriff’s approval seems to relax him a little. Still, as he walks away with his daughter in his arms Jimmy can hear him scolding her until their voices fade to nothing. He smiles, and makes his way back to the bar so he can spend the rest of his day practicing the different types of stitches that Sara showed him.

He gets better. Both with dodging, and with sewing. He spends his evenings immediately after the moon rises running through the unlit areas near Tumble Town, dodging arrows and explosions, and coming away with less and less injuries each time. He’s more aware of his surroundings, of the terrain beneath his feet and the enemies that approach from all sides. And during the day, Sara teaches him how to measure and cut fabric, and then how each of the stitches she’s taught him can be utilized to bring the fabric together.

His stitches are even now, verging on professional. He’s proud of where he’s at. Sara even admits that there’s very little more she can teach him, that he’s reached the end of her knowledge, and hands him off to Etta.

Etta is one of the prostitutes in town. They make all their own clothing, and they often do fancy needlework to make their dresses prettier. Sara figures it would be good for him to learn something more advanced, as even though she doesn’t know exactly what it is that Jimmy’s trying to accomplish, she knows he wants to be an expert at sewing.

Plus, prostitutes sew their clothing to manipulate the shape of their bodies. They use their clothing to make their bust appear larger, to make their waists appear smaller, and Jimmy figures it would be helpful for him to learn how to do that. How to make the fabric manipulate the shape of his body, how to make it lay in a way that makes his limbs seem flexible and lifeless. Even if he’s not going to try and make his waist seem smaller, the same principles probably still apply.

Etta, of course, coos when Sara passes Jimmy off to her. “Darlin’, you want to learn ta’ sew?” she asks, her voice halfway between breathless and disbelief.

Jimmy nods, giving her a somewhat nervous smile. “Yeah. For, um, a project of mine that I’m working on.”

Her eyelids drop lower as she looks at him from beneath her eyelashes, and a grin spreads across her face, hungry and pretty and pleading. She leans forward to look him in the eyes, showing more of her cleavage as she does so. “Ya’ know, any one of us would be happy-” her voice drops to a purr- “to have ya’ in our bed.”

Jimmy’s face burns. “Uh, no, no thank you. I mean, you all seem lovely, but-”

Etta laughs at his spluttering, and her smile fades into something softer, kinder. “Yeah, we know, Mr. Honorable Upstanding Sheriff, you would never. A girl can’t help but try though.”

Jimmy is still bright red in the face as Etta leads him up to her room, but the fluster fades quickly enough as they get down to business.

Etta is one of the few prostitutes that he’s actually held conversation with before. They all flirt with him, just as Etta had done, because, as she said, a girl can’t help but try. Jimmy, although flustered and stumbling over his words, does his best to reject their advances as kindly as he can. They back off when he’s done so with only a few more lingering glances and teasing words, as they would rather find paying customers than stick around, but Etta lingered a couple of times to chat with him.

She teaches him some of the more fancy tricks to sewing. How to gather cloth, how to use the stitches Sara had taught him to their fullest potential, how to pretty up whatever he’s making so it appears more appealing. So he appears more appealing. And, as he hopes, he learns exactly how to shape fabric to change the way his body appears.

Jimmy, of course, pays her for her time, even though she tries to refuse it. He feels bad about taking up the time she could be using to find someone who’d- well… yeah. He doesn’t want to take up her time without compensating her for lost payment, and eventually, she accepts.

“But if I ever wanna do somethin’ for you in the future, Jimmy, ya better let me do it,” Etta tells him, unhappy with the payment and not willing to let him get away with it completely.

“I, uh-” Jimmy’s face is burning, and she snorts and rolls her eyes.

“Not like that, you innocent little man. Somethin’ that you’d actually want.”

“Alright.” There’s a fire burning in her eyes, and Jimmy knows this is the best compromise they’ll be able to reach.

Jimmy’s started to design his costume now. Sara, when she was showing him how she made her dresses, recommended that he sketch out what he wanted a few different times to settle on the look and the details. He’s already got the initial idea for his costume- it’s pretty much just a hollow, life-sized doll of himself- but he sketches it out anyways.

He keeps it to himself for now, and gathers the fabric he’ll need. Again, he doesn’t want to buy it so he leaves no trail, but he’s already got most of what he needs. He can modify his clothes, as his costume is meant to look like him. The only thing he needs is fabric for his skin, and Sara provides it without question. 

He lays it all out in his room, measuring out his outfit and marking the fabric so he can cut it out. He cuts out an extra piece of fabric for Norman’s vest as well, wanting to put his sewing skills to the test before he starts on his final product.

It doesn’t take him more than a few days to finish the vest. In fact, the only reason it takes him that long is because, for the most part, he’s out of his house and wandering around town, making sure everything’s good with his citizens. During the evenings is the only time he really has to work on the vest, and he sits down and focuses up, directing all of his attention towards his task.

Eventually he ties the last knot, and he leans back, taking in his work. The stitching is neat, there’s no frayed edges, and when he puts it on Norman, it fits perfectly. He cheers, and for the first time in weeks he lets himself relax for the night, basking in his accomplishment. He’s done well. He can actually pull this off.

Now, he starts to work on the costume.

He takes it slower than the costume than he did with the vest. The vest turned out fantastic, but the costume is what is going to have to hold up to scrutiny. He makes it in sections; the top, the bottom, and the gloves. He puts hooks into the top that will catch the bottom and keep the top from flying up, and he makes the costume double layered to hold stuffing. If he can’t change his insides to stuffing, at least he can make it look as though that’s what happened.

It’s slow going. Intentionally slow going, yes, but slow going nonetheless. It can be tedious at times, and sometimes Jimmy has to take a break for a few days so he can return with a fresh mind and renewed determination.

On one such break, he’s in the bar, and it’s been a couple of weeks since he’s had any sewing lessons with Sara. “How’s that project ‘a yers comin’ along?” she asks him, leaning against the bar with an expectant grin.

Jimmy returns the grin. “Fantastic. It’s looking as good as the vest I did for Norman!”

“Glad to hear it!” Sara cheers. “An’ yer gettin’ a proper amount of sleep?”

Jimmy laughs under her suspicious gaze. “Yeah. Promise. Now that I know what I’m doin’, it’s goin’ a lot faster, so I can sleep more.”

And Sara looks so happy for him that he ends up blurting out, “If you’d like I can, ah, tell you what the project is?”

Sara pauses, studying him as though confirming that he indeed meant what he said, and when he doesn’t make any move to take back his offer her smile returns, warm and blinding. “Would ya’? I’m quite interested in hearin’ about the thing that’s taken you weeks to prepare for.”

“So…” Jimmy trails off, realizing that this idea doesn’t exactly sound the kindest. But he said he would tell her, so he will, so after a moment he says, “You know how everyone is always makin’ fun of me? And calling me a toy?”

Sara nods, her eyes flickering towards the entrance of the saloon where glimpses of the walls that Joel built can still be seen.

“Yeah. So. I want it to stop. An’ askin’ them to stop hasn’t worked, no matter how I ask ‘em. So I figured I could pretend to be a toy?” he winces as the words leave his mouth, ducking his head and speaking faster so he can get it all out before he sees Sara’s reaction. “‘Cause that way they might actually leave me alone. Like I figure I can creep ‘em out enough that it’ll get them to stop because they don’t like it, they don’t actually like the idea of me being a toy. So. I wanted sewing lessons so I could make a costume that makes me look like a doll, an’ I’ve been practicin’ dodging so I don’t bleed and give it all away.”

He glances up at her, looking for signs of… he doesn’t exactly know. Disgust? Disappointment? But to his surprise, she looks proud, almost, her eyes lighting up. “Paul’s great at acting!” she tells him. “You should get some lessons from him, I can introduce you!”

Jimmy blinks, taken aback by her enthusiasm. “Uh…”

“You’ll need to learn how to act better,” she tells him, “if you wanna pull this off. Yer actin’ skills aren’t that great, honey. But Paul’s a natural, he helps out with any productions or dances we put on, he’ll be a great help!”

“Yeah, sure, that sounds- that sounds good,” Jimmy says. “When d’you wanna introduce us?”

Sara casts a considering eye around the bar, taking in each patron sitting at the various chairs scattered about the bar and tables. “Hey Jeb, if you could watch this lot for me until I get back I’ll give ya’ free drinks for the rest of the week!”

“Yes ma’am!” Jeb calls back with a sloppy salute from his seat at the end of the bar. “You in trouble or somethin’?”

“Nah, just need ta’ introduce the Sheriff to someone,” she replies, walking out from behind the bar and taking Jimmy’s arm. “Shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

Jimmy wasn’t exactly expecting for Sara to introduce them now, but he also doesn’t have anything that requires his attention so he lets her drag him along. They don’t go far; the building Sara takes them to is just off Main Street. She marches right up to the door, knocking with a heavy fist.

“Wha’ is it?” a deep voice rumbles as the locks on the door click. It swings open, and Sara beams.

“Paul! This is Jimmy, he’s lookin’ to-” she breaks off, looking to Jimmy. “How much d’ya want him to know?”

Jimmy, after a moment of hesitation, tells Paul, “I’m lookin’ to fool a bunch’a people from outside Tumble Town into thinkin’ I’m a doll. A very, very creepy one.”

Any irritation Paul might have had is replaced with a delighted grin. “Well, it’s not every day I hear somethin’ like that.”

Sara nods. “I was thinkin’ you might be able to show him the ropes. Give him some actin’ skills because he has absolutely none, and if he’s goin’ to pull this off he needs to have more than a good costume.”

Paul studies Jimmy, who straightens up under the attention. “I could do that,” he murmurs. “What’s yer deadline?”

Jimmy shrugs. “There’s no meeting I’m workin’ towards, if that’s what you’re askin’. And I’m hoping to do like a slow decline into actin’ like a doll, so if I just learn a little everyday, that works too. I don’t intend on havin’ everything happen at once.”

Paul hums approvingly. “You’ll do. When’re ya free to learn?”

“I could come back tomorrow,” Jimmy offers. “Though I might have to run off if somethin’ happens that needs the Sheriff.”

“Understood. How about ya come around in the mornings after you make yer way to town?”

Jimmy smiles. “Deal.”

They shake hands, and Sara grins. “This is going to be wonderful,” she says, and Jimmy can’t help but agree.

“Don’t think of it as lying,” Paul advises him. “Think of it as… putting on a show.”

Jimmy wrinkles his nose. He’s not great at lying, and no matter how many times he tries to get away with it- which isn’t often, it isn’t- he never gets better at it. He gets nervous when he tries to lie, and when he gets nervous he gets defensive, and when he gets defensive any attempts at lying fall apart with stuttering words and poorly reasoned excuses.

“I’m not the greatest at doin’ that either,” Jimmy points out.

Paul can’t exactly refute that point. Throughout the week they've worked on various ideas, and while Jimmy knows in theory how it’s supposed to work, knows what he’s supposed to do to produce certain results, he’s unable to execute them smoothly.

“Well…” Paul hums, taking a moment to think. “When have you lied? Or, not even lied, but not told the truth?”

Jimmy thinks over the past few weeks, struggling to come up with examples where he’s successfully gotten away with not telling the truth. All his memories of lying end up in failure, but then his mind catches on one particular memory. When he walked with Annie out of the mine.

“I lied to Annie,” he says, “Uh, a girl I rescued from the mines last week.”

Paul’s eyes light up. “Interestin’. What do you mean by lied?”

“Well, she was scared, so I just- overexaggerated my actions? It wasn’t anything big, I don’t even think you could consider it lying, really-”

“But there were threads of untruth,” Paul finishes, a grin spreading on his face. “We can work with that.”

They alter their plans, changing them from overt lies to little gestures and actions that Jimmy might be able to pass off as normal. And then, as he starts to get better at them, he can start to exaggerate them more until he’s completely acting.

“Am I doing well enough for this to work?” Jimmy asks anxiously one day.

Paul shrugs. “Can’t tell until you try. Don’t worry about it too much- if you don’ get it, the worst that can happen is more teasing.”

There’s a lot worse that can happen, Jimmy thinks silently to himself, but he doesn’t say anything.  He tries for a smile, Paul snorts.

“That. You need to work on that too. You ain’t gonna fool anyone if you can’t put on a convincing smile. Honestly, you can’t really react to anything either. If you give ‘em too much emotion if they insult ‘ya, they’ll hop on it like cows looking for wheat.”

Jimmy takes a deep breath, and tries to ease his smile into something more natural.

“Better,” Paul says with a smile of his own. “Now how wide can ya’ make that?”

Secrets don’t keep well in Tumble Town. Well, to be exact, secrets don’t keep well within the town itself. If anyone were to come in and ask around, the citizens of Tumble Town wouldn’t spill a word. But within the town secrets- and therefore gossip- travel fast.

It doesn’t take long for everyone to hear the news of Jimmy’s project. He told Sara about it in the saloon, and people overheard, and then they started spreading what they heard. It passes through town like wildfire during the summer, glee clear in their voices as they share.

Jimmy gets an inkling of this when the barber offers to make a wig for him. He accepts, thankful for the offer as he knows nothing about hair, but he picks up on the whispers going around. It isn’t long before people are asking him directly about what they’ve heard, and Jimmy doesn’t try to deny it. Cat’s out of the bag, so he might as well clarify what he’s doing and correct any details he hears that are wrong.

To his surprise, everyone wants in. He thought people would look at him weirdly for it, but all he gets are looks of understanding and excitement. The children in particular love what he’s planning to do, and Jimmy gives them the task of telling tales to any outsider who drops in. It isn’t long before the other citizens pick up on what the children are doing and join in.

“Is there anythin’ imparticular you want us to spread?” Annie asks him.

She’s shown up to bother him more and more after he took her down to the mines to retrieve some gold for her father, but Jimmy finds that he doesn’t mind her hanging around that much. Sometimes she comes alone and begs Jimmy for stories of his exploits as the Sheriff, other times she’ll come with a group of kids and draw him into their games.

Jimmy takes a moment to consider her offer, and then shrugs. “Anythin’ really, just so long as you make it clear that I’m acting weird. If you wanna outright call me a doll you can, that’ll really throw them off.”

Annie grins, nodding. And as today is one of the days where she’s got a group of kids with her, Jimmy is drawn into their games.

The children are surprisingly helpful in his plans, in that they give him advice in the way only children can. They’re quick to assess whether something is creepy enough or not, and they inform him in a blunt manner if something is not working. Jimmy gets to assist when they play with dolls, and as he watches them he learns how he has to appear. 

He brings it up with Paul, and they work on getting him to relax. To make it seem as though his limbs are lifeless until he moves, and how to jerk them around as though he weren’t quite the one in control. He brings the children to a few of the acting sessions, and they throw out suggestions peppered with chorus’ of giggling shrieks whenever he acts as though he’s going to lunge at them.

“Do that more!” they’ll shout. “Yeah, that’s creepy. It’d be creepier if you don’t blink!”

Slowly but surely, Jimmy refines his acting- his over exaggerating, as Paul wishes him to think of it as. Approval from both the kids and from Paul helps boost his confidence, although he isn’t quite sure how it’ll work out when faced with someone who can and will pick him apart at the drop of a hat. Oh well. It’ll have to be good enough.

By now, the costume is pretty much finished. The pieces are all stitched together, and a leatherworker in town is making him a pair of gloves to hide his skin. The barber handed him a wig that’s actually a surprisingly good approximation of fabric trying to pass for human hair, and Sara’s actually gone out of her way to help him yet again. She offers up a pair of contacts that are designed to make his eyes look glassy, and Jimmy holds them gently in his hands, staring at them with wonder.

“Thanks,” he tells her as he tucks it into his inventory.

“Of course,” Sara tells him with a warm smile. “Anything for the Sheriff.”

Jimmy ducks his head, his face flushing. “It’s, well, honestly it’s kinda wild how everyone is pitchin’ in.”

“Of course we would, you’ve done so much for us.” Sara’s smile turns sly, and Jimmy eyes her warily. “In fact, speaking of which…”

“I’d like to call in that favor.”

Jimmy turns around, and Etta is standing there. Her hip is popped out, her hand resting on it, and behind her stand a few other prostitutes. Jimmy’s face stays flushed, but he manages a smooth, “Ah, hello ladies.”

Etta giggles. “Doin’ better than any other times we’ve cornered you.”

“Probably the actin’ lessons comin’ in handy,” Sara chimes in, and Jimmy shoots her a glare. “Now, they’re here to help you out with that project ‘a yers, so why don’t you run off with them and let them help.”

Jimmy dips his head respectfully towards the ladies. “If that’s what ya’ wish, Etta.”

“It is.” She glides up to him and links her arm in his. “Now come on, off we go, we’ve got a lot to teach you.”

Jimmy follows obediently. She said it would be something he’d want, and although the other prostitutes aren’t that reassuring he’s sure it’ll be fine. Plus, Sara mentioned it was related to his project, and he’s curious to see what else Etta wants to contribute.

“Sit here.” She directs him to a chair in front of a brightly lit mirror. “Now, are we correct in assumin’ that yer costume isn’t gonna cover yer face?”

Jimmy nods. “Yeah, it’d get in the way of facial expressions and make it less convincin’.”

Etta’s smile grows, and the ladies all exchange excited glances. One is already crossing the room and rustling through a trunk at the foot of the bed.

“Perfect,” Etta practically purrs. “We know the perfect thing to help with that.”

“What?” he’s a little wary, and he keeps glancing to see what the lady rustling through the trunk is going to pull out.

“Makeup.”

Ah. That explains the grins.

The lady comes back with an armful of products, dumping them onto the table that the mirror is resting on. They roll up their sleeves, and Etta picks up one of the containers, twisting it open. “Let’s get started.”

All in all, it’s not an unpleasant experience. Jimmy isn’t used to the products they put on his face, and he constantly has to remind himself no to touch it, but he’s fascinated by the way it seems to change the structure of his face. His cheeks look redder, his eyes bigger, and his skin both softer and less like skin. When they’re finished, he stares at himself with wonder, prodding at his face as though making sure that the face he sees in the mirror is actually his, and then they wipe it all off and start over again.

They try a few different looks, and as they experiment one of the ladies, Caroline, explains what each product is. Concealer, foundation, blush, contour- there’s so many things that JImmy can’t remember them all.

“There.” Etta nods. “That look is perfect.”

And then they take it all off again, and by this point, the sky is starting to get dark. But Etta promises that this is the last thing they’re doing, and step by step, they show Jimmy how to apply the makeup himself. They make him do it three times before they’re satisfied, and then they send him off with an inventory half-filled with different products and tools to apply them.

“Thanks,” Jimmy says as they push him out the door. He gives them a big, crooked smile, and Caroline in the back fans her face with her hand. “This is a huge help, it’ll come in handy.”

Etta pulls him into a quick hug before he can react. “Of course, Jimmy dear. If ya need help rememberin’ how to do any of this, you know where to find us.”

Jimmy nods, tips his hat, and heads off towards his house to get some sleep.

The next day, he finishes off his costume. He puts the last of the stuffing in, and finishes up the last of the stitches. The leatherworker hands him his gloves as he patrols Tumble Town, and that night he puts his makeup on just as the prostitutes had shown him. He stuffs himself into the costume, takes a deep breath, and then turns to face the mirror.

He… actually looks like a doll. He relaxes like he learned how to do with Paul, letting his arms droop to his side. He tilts his head painfully far to the side, and stares unblinking at the mirror.

It works. It really works. 

The stuffing he put into his costume is bulky, but the vest covering his torso and his big pair of pants hide any unnaturalness that comes from the costume being, well, a costume. His makeup isn’t as good as what he was shown, but practice will take care of that, and with the wig and the gloves it’s hard to tell if any part of him is skin and flesh.

He grins, wide and happy, and then shudders at how he looks with a grin. It’s perfect. It’s everything he hoped.

Finally, he’s ready.

He starts small. That had been his plan from the beginning, and he still thinks that it’s a perfectly good plan. 

Already, he’s cut back on protesting when people call him a toy. It still makes his blood boil, but his determination wins over his rage, and he’s able to either lock it deep, deep within himself or channel it into wide eyes and too-big smiles. He’s caught a few shudders, but he pretends he doesn’t notice anything.

Now, he stops protesting altogether. He ignores the toy comments, but he doesn’t pretend as though he hasn’t heard them- rather, he looks whoever made the comment dead in the eyes for one, two, three, four seconds, and then keeps going about whatever it was that he was doing. Any builds that pop up around Tumble Town he leaves untouched, and in the dead of night, when he’s sure no one else is around, he sometimes adds finishing touches to them, or even little builds of his own. He still hates them, but the double take some people have soothes the sting.

Then, he puts in the contacts. They’re subtle enough that unless someone were looking closely, they wouldn’t notice a difference, and most people don’t look close enough. If they do, they might just assume Jimmy’s close to tears.

He starts to put his acting practice into action. He relaxes his limbs, trying to make it seem as though his joints are either slowly disappearing or simply not there. When he moves, he tries to make it both as fluid as possible and as unnatural as possible. Like he doesn’t have any joints, but also as though his limbs are struggling to move on their own and not completely under his own control.

He shambles as he walks, he blinks less, and his smile stretches painfully wide across his face. Slowly he introduces makeup, softening his skin, making it look less and less human.

He can see the glances he’s getting- questioning glances, double-takes, looks of confusion- and he delights in the fact that his plan is working. He’s actually pulling this off.

As the days and encounters go by, he starts to stare off in the distance sometimes, whether he be across town from somebody or in the middle of a conversation. He goes a step further from ignoring the toy comments- he starts to pepper his own sentences with little hints as to what he’s pretending to be.

“Is it hot?” he says to Sausage. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah, stitching up fabric is a pain,” he lets slip to Scott.

And to Joel- “Why would I want to leave my roo- Tumble Town?”

He starts pulling on pieces of the costume he’s made. Bit by bit, piece by piece, he transforms his skin into fabric, making his makeup more and more pronounced to match. He adds tufts of fabric to his hair, increasing them in number until he pulls on the wig, and his gloves never leave his hands. Then, finally, when he finishes putting on the costume, he starts to add large, obvious stitches around the seam, as though it’s the only thing holding his clothing and insides together.

The looks he’s getting from the other rulers only increase, but they don’t say anything. It’s like they’re trying to figure out what exactly is going on without letting on to the fact that they’re investigating. It’s funny, almost.

As one week passes, and then two, and then three, Jimmy finds that his acting becomes more and more natural. It becomes effortless, really, and he barely has to think about it as he jerks his limbs around and grins with all his teeth. The comments about him being a toy barely register anymore, not when he’s finally let them slide, when he’s finally decided to just let them go in one ear and out the other.

The kids laugh whenever he walks into town in full get-up, grabbing his hands and tugging him around, cheering. The citizens continue to spread rumors to whoever will listen, using Jimmy’s appearance as fodder, adding credibility to the rumors that swirl. In town though, when no one else is around, he’ll get pats on the back, congratulations, and compliments on how well he’s doing.

And then finally, finally, Katherine sends out an offer for a group expedition. Jimmy eagerly joins, and to his delight, everyone else will be joining as well. The offer of a wither star each is too great to pass up.

He asks Etta to do his makeup when the day arrives. “I just.. I want it to be perfect,” he tells her, and she smiles.

“I would be delighted.”

Jimmy places all of the products she and the other prostitutes had gifted him on the table, and she gets to work. She’s faster than Jimmy, and better at it too. That’s a given, seeing as she’s had years more experience than he has. She sends him off with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, giggling as he scrambles out the door.

Jimmy tucks a needle and thread into his ender chest for after the fight, for when he’s gotten grazed and needs to stitch himself up, and then makes his way to Katherine’s. He never stopped practicing dodging, and here is where it’s really going to count.

It’s going to be tricky. There are two things that he can’t allow to happen: he can’t die, because he doesn’t know if his costume would drop upon death, and he can’t allow for blood to be drawn. At the same time, he needs to get close enough to the Withers that they damage his costume, that they create gashes and burns and wounds that reveal stuffing so everyone can see what he’s supposedly become. 

He needs to get in close, he needs to be speedy, and he needs to be precise. As he arrives at GlimmerGrove, he has to force himself to relax, to stop his hands from shaking. This is it. This is his moment.

He takes a deep breath, lets his shoulders fall, and lets a grin spread across his face. He’s ready. He’s been preparing for this for months, he is ready.

Everyone else is already there when he shows up, and Jimmy stumbles his way down on purposefully stiff movements. “Katherine,” he greets with a nod.

“Hi Jimmy,” she says, turning to face him, and upon seeing him she does a double take. “Are you… okay?”

Jimmy just tilts his head, his smile fixed in place. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just look… not well.” She looks as though she wants to say more, but when Jimmy doesn’t react, she forces herself to move on. “Well, uh, it’s good you’re here. That should be everyone, we can head on down to the caves now.”

Jimmy bobs his head almost as if he’s rocking back and forth, and chirps, “We gotta get this wagon train a-movin’.”

That draws a few glances, but Jimmy pretends he doesn’t see them. They way he said it was odd, but as it’s one of Woody’s lesser known phrases he doesn’t think anyone will connect the dots.

Honestly, at this point, he’s surprised no one has said anything to him about the changes he’s undergone. They look at him with confusion and suspicion, but they aren’t really doing anything about it. They just look, and wonder, and act as though everything is fine and normal even when Jimmy is clearly not. He thought one of them would have broken by now, would have demanded to know what was happening, but no one has.

The upside to that is that the ‘reveal’ is going to make so many things make sense to so many people.

Katherine leads them down into the cave, her giant battle axe in hand. They’ll be spawning two Withers at a time given how many people are here, and as she explains how it's going to go Jimmy can feel his heart thumping in his chest. This is it.

There’s the thrum that follows the skulls being placed, and then there’s an explosion of energy as the Withers come to life. They all spring into action, drawing bows, firing guns, and a few brave souls run up to swipe at the Withers with swords. Jimmy shoots with a bow, keeping his distance for now. These are only the first two Withers of many, and he’s not going to risk giving it all away now.

They fight, and Jimmy’s dodging gets put to good use. He dodges Wither skulls and explosions, and even has to dodge a few arrows from the people behind him. He keeps on his toes, moving without stopping, ignoring the shouts around him because if his concentration wavers, this could all fall apart.

Finally, the last couple of Withers are being spawned. Jimmy helps shoot them down with his bow, but this time, he gets up close with his sword. He’s already taken a few small hits, the shrapnel from the explosions nicking his costume, but he wants a large gash on his side. Something stuffing can fall out of, something that everyone will notice.

He darts towards the first Wither that drifts down to the ground, swinging. He lands his hits, dancing around it, and then a skull shoots towards him. He moves just enough that it grazes his side, and while he winces at the burning cold heat that flashes along his side, he doesn’t feel any blood.

They fight, and Jimmy lets himself take a few more grazes. He’s one of the few people that’s avoided death, and he’s not about to let himself fail now.

One Wither goes down, and a cheer goes up. There’s only one more left, and it’s already close to death. With a few more well-placed swings, it goes down. Jimmy slumps to the ground, doing his best to keep from panting, to make it seem as though he doesn’t need to breathe. His heart rate doesn’t fall yet, not when he knows that this is where the show begins. He’s only getting started.

Everyone drifts into a group, sitting on the ground away from the craters the Withers caused. Jimmy joins them, but he keeps to the outskirts, waiting patiently as people eat gapples and food, healing themselves from their wounds. No one has examined him too closely yet, so he keeps his hand pressed against his side, covering the larger gash so it’s not immediately obvious.

Shubble is going around handing out healing potions. When she approaches him, Jimmy waves her off. “I’m okay,” he murmurs.

Shubble frowns. “You aren’t. I saw you take some hits, they looked pretty bad.”

“I’m fine,” Jimmy insists. He raises his voice, and notices with pleasure that heads turn their way.

“Take it,” Shubble insists, shaking it at him.

“I really don’t need-”

“Why won’t you take it?!” Shubble cries, frustrated. “It’s perfectly safe, I promise, I tested it on myself-”

“I trust you, I’m sure it’s fine,” Jimmy interrupts. She’s always been a little touchy when people doubt her abilities, and Jimmy knows the feeling. He doesn’t want her to think it’s because of her. “I just… I don’t need it.”

Shubble's frown deepens, her gaze darting down to the hand that’s pressed against his side. “You were injured. How can you not need it?”

“I-” Jimmy hesitates, as though unsure, and he turns his head from side to side as though trying to see who’s watching. Which, granted, he is, just not for the reasons anyone might think. Then he sighs and slumps his shoulders as though giving up, making sure to keep his movements jerky and unnatural. He pulls his hand away from his side, and stuffing spills out.

“Does anyone have a needle and thread?”” he asks, tilting his head far to the side and watching as people almost recoil in the silence that fills the air. When no one answers he prods, “Or an ender chest?”

The silence continues, and Jimmy resists a triumphant smile. He tilts his head back upright, a smooth, abrupt gesture, and sighs. “Fine.”

He stands, the tear in his costume displayed clearly to everyone around him. He bets that they’re looking at all the other cuts across his body as well, and only finding stuffing instead of blood.

He can only imagine how he looks in their eyes- limbs limp and flexible, fabric covering almost every inch of his body, and the only remaining skin showing unnaturally smooth. His eyes are big and glossy, his skin pale and his cheek unnaturally red, and there are stitches around the seams of his clothing, large and obvious.

As he starts towards the entrance of the cave, Katherine calls, “Wait!”

He halts, swinging around at a speed that almost unbalances him. A few people startle at his swift, jerky movements.

“I- here.” Katherine fumbles for her inventory, grabbing an ender chest and placing it on the ground.

“Thanks.”

Jimmy walks back over, opening the lid and rummaging around until he finds his needle and thread. Katherine stares at him, her eyes wide and fixed on his side, and he pretends he doesn't notice.

For the first time, he manages to thread the needle on the first try. He doesn’t let his excitement show on his face, instead turning his attention to the gash at his side. With nimble fingers he ties a knot in the thread, and then starts stitching up the wound, tucking in the stuffing as he goes. He uses a catch stitch, wanting the x-shape of the stitch to rub in the fact that he’s stitching up fabric, not healing flesh with potions. He’s sewn enough by now that he’s able to stitch quickly, making it seem as though this is routine for him.

The silence still remains as Jimmy finishes stitching himself up. He looks up, puts on the brightest, fakest smile he possibly can, and watches a few people flinch back. “Thank you,” he chirps, tucking his items into his inventory. “I’ve got a build I need to finish, I’ll see y’all around.”

And then, for the heck of it, in the most artificial voice he can manage, he says, “Reach for the skies!” and then walks away as though he didn’t say anything at all.

That night in Tumble Town, they celebrate. The saloon is packed full with every Tumble Town citizen, with free beer for the adults and candy for the kids. Paul even brings out a cake, a proud grin on his face, and Jimmy laughs as he helps cut it up for everyone to eat.  They party well into the night, and if someone drops by to check on Jimmy and sees the celebration they can claim it’s for Sara’s successful saloon.

Jimmy doesn’t dare take off his costume during the day now, not when he’s finally ‘revealed’ himself. People are liable to drop in at any second, and Jimmy isn’t about to give this up after all the hard work he put into pulling this off.

He smiles, wide and bright, when people arrive. They shudder under his grins, unable to meet his glassy eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. They ask if he’s really a toy, and JImmy looks at them with confusion, asking, “I thought you already knew?” He can slip comments into conversation freely, and any little action he takes, no matter how small it is, can be attributed to Jimmy being a doll.

“You’re my favorite deputy!” he cries when fWhip drops by, even though fWhip’s badge has technically been revoked. He acts as though he hadn’t said it at all, ignoring fWhip’s flinch.

“This town ain’t big enough for the two of us,” he growls when Joel stops by. Joel looks surprised, almost, as though he hadn’t been expecting for Jimmy to ‘actually’ be a toy. He doesn’t seem to have a good comeback, and he leaves after some halfhearted teasing.

When Gem stops by, Jimmy is kinder. He doesn’t completely drop all his doll-like tendencies, but he doesn’t go out of his way to slip them into their interactions. Gem has always been kind to him, and he doesn’t want her to be upset- well, more upset than she already is. He shows her around town, introduces her to Sara, and invites her back, telling her that gunpowder is always free for allies.

Apparently, it’s all too much for everyone who wants to confirm for themselves that Jimmy is a toy. Everyone shows up out of the blue one day, and Jimmy tucks his axe into his inventory, checking to make sure the house he’s building isn't going to collapse before turning to face them.

“Hello,” he chirps, smiling with all his teeth.

A few of the rulers flinch, although Pixlriffs has a knowing twinkle in his eye. There’s a moment of silence, and in the end it’s Katherine who steps forward. It’s unsurprising. She’s the bravest out of all of them, and theoretically, as a princess, she would have had some diplomatic training. “Jimmy,” Katherine greets with a drip of her head.

“What can I do for you?” Jimmy asks.

“We wanted to talk.” Katherine says with a frown, her voice firm. But Jimmy can see the way her hands flutter in the air, useless without an axe to grip and a monster to fight. “This is too far. You’ve gone too far.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jimmy tilts his head to the side, as though confused. He forces his smile even wider.

Sara’s at his back, arms crossed and frowning at the group huddling before them in the center of town. Children run by with dolls, some of which look quite similar to Jimmy, and Paul lounges on a nearby porch- one that’s not his own, Jimmy might add- with a bottle of whiskey in hand, keeping an eye on the group. He raises the bottle to his mouth from time to time, and his movements are clumsy as though he’s already gone through a bottle, but Jimmy doesn’t think he’s drinking a drop.

“You’ve gone too far,” Katherine repeats. She sounds more certain this time, but she looks just as shaken as everyone else by the way Jimmy’s head tilted. “You took the joke too far. It’s too much. We get it- you don’t like being called a toy. We’ll stop.”

And Jimmy, for a moment, considers dropping the act. He’s always weak to someone pleading for help, and Katherine is doing just that.

But Jimmy was in distress too. He was in distress for a long time, and no one seemed to care. For the first time, it seems they’re actually paying attention, and Jimmy wants to draw it out a little longer. Just for a bit. Not forever, but he really wants to drive the point home. He can still see the disbelieving slant to Joel’s mouth, the skeptical looks warring with horror as people try to decide whether or not this is real.

He sees Paul from the corner of his eye raise an eyebrow. He’s not urging Jimmy on, but asking what he wishes to do. It’s Jimmy’s idea after all. Jimmy’s choice. And if Jimmy wishes it, every person in this town would commit to the act, no questions asked. Or, well, continue to commit to it.

Jimmy tilts his head even further, enough so that he can feel the muscles in his neck stretch. Shubble shudders, backing up to hide behind Joey, who doesn’t seem to be faring much better. 

“What?” Jimmy asks again.

“You- you aren’t-” Katherine glances over at Joel, faltering.

Joel is the one who took the lead on this. Joel as he is now looks both unconcerned and unsettled at the same time. He hasn't taken his eyes off of Jimmy this entire time. His gaze is searching, as though he’s trying to determine what’s real and what is not.

“You’re not a toy,” Katherine finally says when Joel stays quiet.

Jimmy blinks long and slow at them. He looks down at his side, where he had stitched up his costume, and then back at them with the most confused look he could manage.

Sara takes it from here. She steps in front of Jimmy, scowling. “You all need to leave,” she says in lieu of Jimmy answering. Scott looks like he’s about to protest, but Sara pulls herself up to her whole height, glaring at them.

Katherine is the only one brave enough to try. “But-”

“No. Shoo. Leave. You’ve caused our Sheriff enough pain and trouble, you don’t need to do anymore damage.” She rolls her eyes, turning around to make it seem as though she’s about to guide Jimmy away, and as she does she starts muttering under her breath as though her next words are for her own benefit. “Stupid gods, stupid words, stupid powers. His ego is too large, he needs to be taken down a peg- a few hundred, really.”

They all hear her. Immediately, all heads whip around to look at Joel.

“I- what?” He no longer looks unconcerned.

“Words have power,” Paul calls from where he’s leaning against the porch railing, finally deciding to involve himself. “You should know that, oh mighty last-of-the-gods. You brought a child to life from an armor stand, you changed the very fabric of reality. You can change a person’s entire being for some stupid prank.”

“You have power,” Sara snarls, and there’s hatred there. It isn’t strong, but the irritation and disgust on her face is clear and very, very real. “Act like it, for once in your sorry existence. You’d think the years would have you acting like the god you are, instead of a child who knows no consequences.”

“He’s just acting,” Joel snaps back, but there’s hints of panic creeping onto his face. “There’s no way he’s actually a toy-”

Paul has his revolver in hand in a mere second, and a bang echoes across town. Everyone freezes.

Jimmy feels his side and finds there’s now a hole. “Huh,” he says. He looks over at Paul and scowls. “Was that really necessary?”

Paul just shrugs. He hadn’t actually hit flesh- and Jimmy didn’t even know his aim was this good until this exact moment- but instead, he shot through some of the bulkier stuffing Jimmy added around his torso.

“He’s… he’s faking it,” Joel whispers, staring at the hole, watching as sunlight shines through. He doesn’t sound as though he believes himself anymore.

Sara takes advantage of their stillness and pushes them out of town. They’re gone in less than five minutes, and Jimmy blinks at how fast she managed to do that. “That- that was amazing,” he tells her, stunned. And then to Paul, still over on the porch, “And good shot, Paul!”

“Didn’t know I was that good of’a shot until now!” Paul calls back, raising his bottle in a toast. He takes a swig- actually drinking it this time- and Jimmy regrets giving him the compliment. He would have rather not known.

Sara snickers. “It was no problem at all, honey.”

Jimmy smiles, but there’s guilt that eats away at that smile. “I… should I really keep doing this?”

As much as he likes to see Joel shaken, to see fWhip and Scott and Sausage look startled and guilty, not everyone deserves it. Not everyone mocked him, and he feels bad seeing the others look so distressed.

Sara shrugs. “It’s up ta’ you, honestly. Yer the one that started it, you’ll be the one to tell us when to end it.”

“Do you think I’ve gone too far?” he asks.

After a long moment where Sara considers his question, she shrugs. It’s a bit more of a hesitant shrug this time. “Some of ‘em definitely deserved it, and some of ‘em did not. But ta’ pull it off, you really had to make it so none’a them knew what you were tryin’ to do.”

Jimmy nods but doesn't ask anything more. This is something only he can figure out.

There’s only one thing he knows for certain: he wants Gem to know. Gem was nice to him, and he considers her to be his friend. He doesn’t want her to be worried or stressed, so he messages her, asking if she’d be willing to meet up with him. 

She agrees immediately. Jimmy takes off his doll costume, hanging it up in his closet where it won’t get damaged or wrinkled. He wipes off his makeup, and then makes his way over to Dawn. There’s no reason for him to continue to pretend to be a doll. His point has been made and driven home, and he can be himself again.

He messages her as he arrives, and she tells him to meet her in the apiary. He feels a little guilty for that, because he knows she’s only in there when she either wants to relax or when she’s stressed. He knows it’s the latter, and that she’s trying to get whatever little comfort she can.

“Hi,” he says as he enters, waving. There’s a sheepish grin on his face when she looks him over, her eyes wide as she tries to figure out what’s going on.

“Jimmy, you look- what-” She looks terrified and frustrated, and she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says when she opens her eyes again. “I can explain, if you would like.”

She nods, giving him a piercing stare, and they both settle on a nearby bench. Technically, the explanation of “I pretended to be a doll” might be enough, but Gem deserves far more than that. He tells her everything, from the teasing to the plan to the way he made it work. When he finishes explaining, Gem looks torn between being angry and being impressed.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she finally ends up saying, smacking him on the shoulder. “I was so scared-”

She looks moments away from bursting into tears, and Jimmy apologizes again. “I won't do it again, promise. I just wanted people to stop.”

Gem nods, sniffs, and takes a moment to calm herself. When she no longer looks like she’s about to cry, she tells him, “I get that. I’m sorry that happened- that I didn’t do anything about it. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy reassures her. “I’m all good now. Everything’s okay.”

And, he finds to his surprise, it is.

He spends the rest of the day with Gem, both to reassure her that he’s okay and because he missed her, but as they walk through Dawn together his little revelation keeps turning over in the back of his mind.

Pretending to be a toy was actually good for him.

It didn’t just mean that he was able to make people back off, to get them to stop calling him a toy. He did accomplish that, and that was his main goal, but it did more for him than just that. He’s more confident now. He had to be confident to pull off his acting, and as people were convinced by it his confidence grew. He learned how to stand up to people- not directly, but he stood his ground in convincing them that he was a toy. He didn’t crumble under harsh words or disbelieving glances like he once might have.

Gem gives him a ride back to Tumble Town on her bear, and he marvels at the way its shoulders move when it lumbers along. As he slides off its back, Gem asks him, “Are you… going to tell everyone else?”

Jimmy pauses. He looks at Gem, who looks back nervously. “I… I would like to, so long as people drop the toy thing.”

Gem snorts, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing and a fond smile creeping onto her face. “I think they’ve learned their lesson. If you want help doing it, let me know. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Thanks,” Jimmy says, his mind racing with ideas. A smile of his own grows and he asks, “Would you like to accompany me to the upcoming festival?”

Every few months, Joel holds a festival. It’s thrown in Upper Stratos, and while the rulers can come and go as they please, it’s one of the few times that the mortals that live down below can walk in the realm of the gods. Joel claims that it’s to honor his fallen siblings, but Jimmy is fairly certain that some of them are held just to boost his own ego.

Of course, now that Jimmy has excellent sewing skills, he makes his own outfit. Gem asks for one as well, and he obliges, making a matching set. He gets the fabric from Katherine, which is smooth against his skin, and promises to find her at the festival to show her what he makes.

For Gem, he makes a peplos with fabric the color of the rising sun. Yellow fades into orange fades into red fades into purple, and Etta shows him how he can make thread appear golden with the gold that comes from Tumble Town’s mines. He stitches designs into the hem of the fabric, incorporating stylized suns and little butterflies to match Gem’s aesthetic.

For himself, Jimmy makes a chiton with a chlamys to go over the top. He gives it more earthy tones, with deeper reds and yellows atop browns, but he uses the same golden thread so he and Gem match. He stitches designs along the hem, but where Gem has butterflies and suns, he stitches little golden nuggets- more like shavings, really- into the browns of the fabric to make it look as though gold is glimmering within the depths of the earth.

He shows both Sara and Etta, who congratulate him on the outfits, showering him with so many compliments that he makes an excuse to leave, his face bright red. Their laughter follows him out the door.

Gem asks if she needs to bring anything or prepare anything, and Jimmy tells her that he’ll have everything handled. To be honest, for the most part, Gem’s presence is mostly just for Jimmy to reassure himself. Citizens from Tumble Town will be attending the event as well, and Jimmy knows that they’ll keep an eye on him- and he’s grateful for it, really- but it’s nice to have another ruler to back him up. It means that he won’t be putting his citizens in danger.

The night before the festival, he sneaks over to Stratos. Or, well, to the surrounding countryside, to a particular barn with the name TOYS emblazoned on its front. He’s just checking that it’s still standing, and a peek inside confirms that yes, the only thing it’s selling is miniature versions of him. He’s not upset though. Rather, he smiles. He takes out TNT from his inventory, digs under the building, and gets to work.

The next day, Gem arrives bright and early. He shows her the outfit he made her, and she gushes over it, complimenting his needle work. Jimmy shoves her into one of the rooms in his house so she can change, his face burning, and then takes his own clothing to change as well.

When she comes out, Jimmy takes out his makeup, and Gem looks delighted. She insists that he do hers, even though he protests that he knows next to nothing about it, but eventually he gives in. He’s tempted to call Etta over, but he can only imagine the amount of teasing he’ll get from the both of them, so he does his best on his own. He doesn’t have too many colors of eyeshadow, as he didn’t need much for his costume, but there’s a red that matches perfectly with Gem’s dress. He adds blush to her cheeks and does his best to contour her face before deciding that he’s done.

Gem, of course, declares it perfect, and then she demands that Jimmy sit down so she can do his makeup. Jimmy doesn’t protest, sitting obediently, and when she’s done he’s got some glimmers of gold over his eyelids and his skin appears flawless.

Gem fiddles with her hair until it cascades down her shoulders, puffy and soft, and then she perches a spiked cold crown atop her head that looks like the sun. Jimmy pins his sheriff badge to his chlamys, and then, at Gem’s insistence, regretfully leaves his hat on the table. In its place, Gem procures some golden flowers that she pins into his hair.

And with that, they’re ready. They aren’t going to fly, because that would mess up all the work they put into dressing up, so they make their way over on the back of Gem’s bear. Most of the citizens of Tumble Town accompany them on foot, and to his horror, Gem and Etta get along like a house on fire. He can only imagine the chaos they’re sure to create in years to come.

They arrive late, but that’s okay. The festival started somewhere around noon and will go late into the night, so it’s not like they’re missing anything. They make their way to Upper Stratos, using the elevator- something Joel only activates during festivals because he likes to make it as difficult as possible for people to make their way up- and they’re careful to avoid the gaps in the ground. Jimmy carries Annie on his shoulders, both so she doesn’t go tumbling and so she can see.

“Gem!” Joel calls when he sees her, hurrying over. “You look wonderful-”

His eyes land and Jimmy and he halts.

“Good to see you too,” Gem greets warmly. “Do you like my dress?”

She twirls, her butterfly wings fluttering and her dress glimmering under the sunlight.

“Yeah, it’s- it’s great.” Joel manages to tear his eyes away from Jimmy to look at her dress. “It’s very pretty. Did Katherine make it?”

“Nope.” Gem smiles. “Jimmy did! Didn’t he do a wonderful job? He’s fantastic at sewing.”

Joel’s eyes dart to Jimmy again, and Jimmy is amused by the amount of panic he can see in the god’s eyes. He takes pity though, telling him, “Katherine was kind enough to provide the fabric for our outfits. Speaking of which- have you seen her? I promised I’d show her the clothes I made.”

“I think I saw her over by Peril’s temple,” Joel manages to say. He frowns, still staring at Jimmy, and cocks his head. “You don’t look like a doll,” he adds, because he was never one for subtlety.

“‘Cause he’s not,” Annie says, unconcerned about speaking to a god.

“What she said,'' Jimmy agrees, smiling sweetly. He lets Annie down, shooing her towards her parents with a quick goodbye, and then sweeps past Joel. “Thanks for letting me know where Katherine is!”

Gem hurries over to his side, giggling as she links arms with him. “His face.”

JImmy’s smile widens. “That good, huh?”

“Yes!”

Katherine is over where Joel said she'd be, and she compliments Jimmy on his sewing. They get into a discussion, with Katherine giving Jimmy tips, and she keeps glancing at him as though she doesn’t understand what’s happening. Understandable, given that Jimmy’s now ditched his costume.

“Are you… okay?” she asks him when Gem steps away for a moment.

Jimmy nods, giving her a warm smile. “Yeah, thanks.”

They never really interact all that much, but in the few interactions Jimmy has had with her she’s never called him a toy or looked down on him. She’s kind, and Jimmy appreciates it.

“And…” she trails off, not sure what to comment on.

“I’ll explain at dinner,” he tells her. 

Katherine nods, and seems to shake herself out of whatever daze she was in. They continue their conversation, with Katherine acting much more like herself, until Gem comes back.

At each of these festivals, all the rulers gather for dinner. It’s a way to interact with each other, to exchange information and make deals since they see so little of each other out and about. They eat good food, drink and share stories, and celebrate whatever it is they’re celebrating at that particular festival. There’s still a couple of hours before dinner rolls around though, so Gem and Jimmy wander down the walkways of Stratos, stopping by to see what vendors might be selling and jumping into dances. The walkways are filled with people, and their chatter and laughter mixes with the music that fills the air.

When they finally make their way to the banquet table, Gem has some new earrings that perfectly match her crown, and she’s gotten Jimmy more flowers for his hair. These are real this time, and she’s woven them into a crown that rests atop his head.

They sit together, with Katherine on Jimmy’s other side. Jimmy ignores the stares he gets from everyone else, choosing instead to focus on the food laid out before them. He starts piling his plate high, filling it with everything he knows is good and some of the newer dishes he wants to try. He’s hyper aware of the eyes on his as he takes his first bite, as he chews and then swallows. He's supposedly a doll, after all. He shouldn’t need food.

Thankfully, the attention on him seems to die away after a few minutes. He pretends as though he notices none of it, and even though he still gets odd glances every so often, people get sucked into various conversations.

Then, there’s a boom. Everyone at the table falls silent, heads turning as they try to pinpoint where the noise came from. There’s another explosion, and then there’s the whizz of a rocket and a firework explodes in with a band and sparkle of color. Another firework goes off, and a cheer rises from the people gathered for the festival. 

The firework display is quite dazzling. Jimmy is quite proud of it. He put a lot of effort into making it, and it has the added effect of covering the noise of the TNT that destroys the toy barn.

Almost no one notices. Most of them are staring at the fireworks that burst in the sky, filling the air with shimmering sparks of various colors. The only one who does notice is Joel, and even then it’s too late. The TNT exploded in rapid succession, leaving only a crater behind.

“That was fantastic!” Sausage cheers after the fireworks finish. “Good job, Joel!”

“My barn,” Joel whimpers in response.

Jimmy smiles. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s the one that destroyed it. That would defeat the point of blowing it up at such a public event. Joel is already jumping to his own conclusions, and when he turns to stare at Jimmy, the smile he wears only confirms them.

“You,” Joel growls, and Jimmy doesn’t drop his pleasant smile. Joel’s growl effectively grabbed the attention of everyone at the table, and the various conversations die. “You did this.”

“Yep.” Jimmy keeps his smile pleasant. Joel blinks in surprise, staring at Jimmy with a look somewhere between suspicion and confusion, not having expected the easy acceptance.

“I-  you-”

“Me,” Jimmy agrees amicably. 

“Good,” Joey snorts. Shubble, not holding the same hatred for Joel that Joey has, asks, “Why would you…”

“Because I am not a toy.” Jimmy lets his smile take on a bit more of a dangerous edge. “That barn was the epitome of all I hated. I would appreciate it if you all would stop saying I am.”

That line has a bit of a flair from Paul. There was no way he was going into this conversation bind, he’s not that good with words.

Joel stutters and stammers but isn’t really able to get any words out.

“But you were,” Gem tells him when no one else speaks up. “You had fabric skin and stuffing for insides.”

Her voice is saccharine, and there's a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. Her voice breaks the silence, and people look to Jimmy for answers.

Jimmy shrugs. “Yeah, I can make very convincing costumes. I got very good at sewing.”

There’s still a disbelieving silence so he sighs, takes out a knife, and cuts his arm. Blood runs down it. “There. Satisfied?”

Joel, of course, tries to regain control of the conversation. He puts on a cocky look, trying to hide how thrown off he was, and says, “So you did give in-”

Jimmy slams the knife down into the table. He stands, stares Joel dead in the eyes, and lets his limbs relax. He widens his eyes, puts on a cheerful expression, and smiles as wide as he can while tilting his head to the side. The visceral reactions he gets from everyone at the table are quite satisfying.

“Do not,” he warns cheerfully, “call me a toy. I did what I did because I wanted you to stop, and I think it worked out quite nicely. This is now me asking you- all of you- to drop the joke and let it die. Understood?”

Joel nods mutely, and Jimmy relaxes, his smile falling from creepy to something a little more vicious. “Good.”

It takes a few awkward minutes for conversation to resume again, and Jimmy fields some questions from those that are more curious than guilty.

“You pulled this off for months?” Shubble asks.

Jimmy nods, and Lizzie, from across the table, scoffs. “What, like it’s hard?”

Jimmy politely pretends like he doesn’t see the fur peeking out from behind her mask, or the way her hands are misshapen beneath her gloves.

“And you learned to sew just for this?” Katherine asks.

“Yep. Sara was a great help with that,” Jimmy answers. “I wanted to make sure I had sewing down before all this got started.”

He beams with pride as Katherine starts up a litany of compliments, showing off the clothing he wears. Gem dutifully stands and shows off her own outfit as well, and at least half the table gushes over the clothes. Jimmy preens under the attention.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. Those that ridiculed him are a little quieter- a miracle for Joel- but the air is full of laughter and chatter from everyone else. Jimmy goes home that night satisfied.

To his great pleasure, the joke, for the most part, dies. There are a few that persist- because they forget, because of habit, because one of them is named Joel and is bitter about the destruction of his toy barn- but Jimmy takes great pleasure in dealing with them. In fact, whenever someone is a little too mean, a little too pushy, he’ll freeze, tilt his head just a bit too far to the side, and smile wide enough that they shudder.

It’s a silent warning not to mess with him, that there might be consequences if they push too far. A reminder of the scheme he managed to pull off.

It works every time without fail.