The playroom was silent and still as all the dolls in kept their eyes on the now-empty chair where the beautiful Coppelia had once sat. Even Ryan, who had no concept of the importance of this event, stared at the empty seat. His senorita doll had disappeared from his sight and Ryan turned to find her.
The red dressed doll was sitting next to the fallen Gypsy doll, taking her own key to wind up her sister toy. The gypsy was quick to shake off her sleep and stand up. She clapped excitedly while turning to her partner.
"Oh, what a day! New toys to play with!"
"And dear, sweet Coppelia will finally play with us."
Ryan stepped closer, "Wait, what are you two talking about? Did I miss something."
"Coppelia is the oldest of us; she's our owner's first doll. But she has never moved. Never danced, never obeyed owner."
The gypsy piped up. "Except for once. She danced one time in all the years she's been a doll. But no one was here to see it."
"Owner was furious when he saw his most beloved toy dance with a complete stranger and not with him. He yelled at Coppelia for hours. She hasn't obeyed owner since."
Ryan scratched his head. "Wait, but why would he keep a toy that didn't obey him?"
"Because," the Flamenco said, "Coppelia is his daughter, and he can't bear to be rid of her." The gypsy shrieked in excitement and hugged her fellow wind-up doll. "Oh, what joy! Four new toys in one night!"
"Four?" Ryan asked, just before something struck the back of his head, sending him into dreams.
The stiff tin soldier stood over Ryan's splayed out body, her metal body rigid once more. The wind-ups clapped and cheered as a figure stepped from the darkness, from a door hidden in shadow. He was an elderly man, crouched in the back. His long grey hair was tattered and his face bore maddened old wrinkles.
"Is he the cause of all this racket" He said grumpily.
"Oh, no, owner. There are two others, both already costumed and playing." Gypsy said triumphantly.
"And one of them is Swanhilda."
The crazy man's crazy eyes turned wide at the mention of his name for the young girl who had made Coppelia move all those years ago. He turned to his head soldier.
"Assemble your toys, Major. Go and find my wayward dolls and the dolls-to-be." The tin soldier saluted and snapped her fingers. Two soldiers and two more soldierettes stepped up from around the room, and all five marched out of the room with stomping tin feet.
The owner turned to the fallen man in his playroom. "Can you handle this one?" The wind-ups smiled with devilish grins. "Then have him ready for the elixir in five minutes." Owner then turned and mumbled on his way out of the room.
Gypsy and Flamenco danced to Ryan's prostrate body and each took a hand. Together, they heaved him toward the costume closet.
"What kind of toy shall he be?"
"Well, a wind-up of course."
"Yes, but his costume."
"I don't know. But it should be something very, very cute."
The jesters twined their bodies together, their slender arms and legs wrapped up together. They watched entranced as Jewel's hand become covered in white fabric and turn into a mitten, then into wooden gloved fingers, and then back to flesh, all in the span of a minute. Similar dances of skin, cloth, and wood played across her body, and across her partner's, too.
"What is causing this?"
"Magic, I suppose." Calliope kissed a recently plush patch of her partner's neck. The fabric was cool, and she buried her nose deeper into Jewel's body. The red and white jester giggled at the tickling sensation, and the way the doll's body warmed hers. "I hope you become a softie doll, so I could cuddle with you all the time."
Jewel gripped her owner's hand between hers. She looked at it, and was somewhat unsettled by the way it appeared more and more human. Her own hands were more consistently mittens, though still fluxed back to their normal form.
"Is this . . . will I be a toy forever?"
"Such a curious doll, aren't you?" Calliope stroked her partner's hair as it returned to its natural red color. "But no magic is permanent, and may always be undone. So enjoy yourself and be my doll, if only for the night."
Jewel turned around and faced the green jester face to face; her face a smiling cloth mask. "I can be yours for the night." Calliope ran her finger down the seam of her doll's face, a playful twinkle in her eye.
"OK, sit up." The jesters both pulled their bodies up and facing each other, and sat cross legged. Jewel marveled at how far she could twist her puffy and soft legs. "We're going to play make believe; I will be the queen of toyland, and you will be my servant and jester. But we're friends." Calliope quickly added.
"But you're not dressed like a queen." Columbina said mournfully, plopping her plush leg into her owner's lap.
"It's make believe, silly clown."
"But you're not dressed like a queen." She said again.
Calliope smiled coyly. "You just want to visit the costume room again. Well, let's go." Callope jumped up and pulled her softie doll up with her. They began to walk, flesh hand and mitten glove twined together and swinging, to the living room.
But as they reached the door, the handle turned from the other side. The door swung open and revealed a pair of stoic tin soldiers. The leader, a red shirted boy soldier drew his long musket and pointed it toward Jewel. His backup, a blue shirted and skirted girl soldier did the same.
"Hold it right there, toys."
"A doll? I'm turning into a doll?" Parker kept her gaze on her reflection and began to notice the way her skin had a plastic shine to it. Her fingers were all defined, but stuck together. Parker could pull them apart easily, though they always fell back together. She smiled unbelieving. "I should be scared about all of this, but I'm not."
"Do you know why?" Coppelia asked, her arms crossed.
"Because I want to be a doll?" Parker guessed.
"No. There is magic woven into this house; into the costume you're wearing, and the ones your friends are wearing. The longer you stay, the more you'll want to stay." Coppelia came up to Parker and grabbed the pink ballerina by the shoulders, "You need to stay strong. You need to keep remembering that you're human."
"But . . ." Parker said, her almost porcelain face knotted with confusion, "I'm a doll."
Coppelia frowned. Why did she let this game go on for so long? She should have stopped Parker from going into the costume room. Should have told her that she used to be human. So many should haves, and now her father's damned magic was capturing another girl.
"Your name is Parker. You have friends, human friends, who are in very real danger." The blue ballerina said, looking deep into glass eyes that used to be human.
Parker's mind seemed to come back. The spells on her body reversed for the tiniest of moments, and she nodded. Coppelia knew she could fall into a daze again at any moment and so she lead the girl to the door. Just before she got there, the toys heard a tin soldiers marching just outside.
The Gypsy and Flamenco flitted around the costume room, wildly grabbing and cloth that looked remotely adorable to put on their new doll. It was a long established rule of the playroom that toys should never choose what they wear, and the wind-ups were proud to keep that tradition. Unfortunately, they themselves had never dressed a fellow toy before, and were at a loss for what he should wear.
It wasn't until Esmeralda the Gypsy pulled out a green tunic and shorts that the dolls knew what, or more specifically, who, their new doll should be.
"Mas perfecto!" Rosalitta cried, running up the her toy sister. The flamenco dug into the rack and pulled out the remaining pieces of the costume. Together, the dolls proceeded to redress their new toy. "He is a little manly for this costume, no?"
"Nothing a little makeup can't fix."
"Si! Of course!" Rosalita jumped and scurried to the makeup stand and began pulling anything and everything she could find from the table, whether Ryan would need it or not.
"Who should be the first to get to play with our toy?"Esmeralda said while stroking her fingers through Ryan's lush curled black hair.
"You got to play with him before, hermana, so I should be able to play with him now." Ryan's eyes began to flutter open, just as Esmeralda turned an angry gaze to her sister doll.
"You!? You got to play with him before. I fell over before I got to play." Esmeralda stood up and pointed a wooden finger in Rosalita's face.
"It is not my fault you do not keep yourself wound up, which is another reason why I should play with Peter first." Ryan continued to shake off his stupor, and looked at himself, shocked to see he was dressed almost entirely in green, from his green tunic to the tights wrapped around his legs. He was very quick to realize they were talking about him when they said Peter.
"You always get to play with owner first, and longer. Peter is my doll to play with, and I won't let you take him from me." Ryan propped himself up. The dolls were so busy squabbling they hadn't even noticed him.
"Oh, senora, you have taken my key too many times to count, after you lost yours. And how many times have you lost a shoe? Or your tambourine?"
"I am a doll; it's not my fault I lose my shoes. And if you thin . . ."
Rosalita held up her hand and looked at the space on the floor Ryan had once been laying, "Where did Peter go?" The flamenco turned to her gypsy sister, "Perfecto! Now you've lost our new toy."