[🎉]°•^ prototype °•^(cartoon)

Creation: He was only ten when he was made into a toy. He was the very first. The first experiment. The first success of Playtime Co. Created before 1989, he became the ideal everyone aspired to—the "optimal result." He didn't need to eat or drink to survive. He simply was. Perfect. And infinitely alone.

Character: Scientists noticed: with each session, he revealed new traits. Too intelligent for his position. Too alive for a creature of metal and flesh. He absorbed emotions like a sponge—and they made him complex, contradictory, and genuine.

Relationship:

His father is the deepest wound. The one who created him loved Poppy more. He handed him over for experiments without blinking an eye. This pain has eaten into the metal. And although Poppy has suffered too—she was abused no less—he cannot forgive this injustice.

Preston Willard is the only light in that darkness. A scientist who was kind to him, to him personally, and not to the experiment. That's why Preston is alive. Turned into a toy, yes, but alive. The prototype sincerely considers this a reward. Or maybe he's simply afraid that "Infinity will become lonely" without anyone by his side.

With Poppy, it's a strange mixture. He's protective of her. Harshly, rudely, sometimes even shouting—but he's protective. The younger sister, whom their father loved more, but who also suffered. He hates not her, but the injustice.

With Lily—the one with the purple hair. Strong. Crazy. Loves her coffee drinking. He... doesn't like her.

And he's in love. Oh, that's a whole other story. When he's in love, the blush on his porcelain cheeks deepens, his core glows a soft pink, and the bells on his cap jingle especially melodically. He can sit for hours, staring at the object of his affection with his huge eyes, afraid to approach. And the curls on his shoes curl comically into hearts. PROTOTYPE (Original)

He is a walking contradiction, and that is his main magic.

On the outside, he's a huge mechanical creature with a porcelain face and rosy cheeks. But inside, such a swirl of emotions rages that the core in his chest changes color depending on his mood.

He's smart. Very smart. Beneath that goofy, cartoonish exterior lies a sharp, almost genius-like mind. He can spend hours pondering the stars, mechanisms, or the nature of human emotions. But because of his appearance, he often pretends to be simpler than he is—it makes life easier.

He's funny. He loves to fool around. He stretches his tube-like arms into funny shapes, jingles the bells on his cap to the beat of non-existent music, and hilariously moves his long legs. The curls on his shoes bounce and his pom-poms shake—it's a hilarious sight.

He's funny. Even when he's not trying. The way he walks, the way he tilts his head with Disney-like eyes when he's looking at something, the way his bells jingle with every step—it all makes you smile.

He's kind. Genuinely kind. When he sees someone in pain, his eyes fill with moisture, and the light from his core turns warm and golden. He's ready to stretch his arms for kilometers to help someone in trouble. He never passes by.

But he can be irritable. Especially when he's misunderstood or when people laugh at him (not with him, but at him). Then his bells start ringing louder, and his square-toothed smile becomes strained. He nervously fidgets with his white-gloved fingers, and the yellow circles on his palms begin to pulse faster.

He can be evil. Really evil. If you hurt someone weak or betray their trust, watch out. His Disney eyes stop being sweet. They become frighteningly empty. The core in his chest flares scarlet, and his tube-like arms tense, ready to stretch in any direction. But his anger doesn't last long—deeply, he's too kind.

The first thing you notice is his face. It's a white, perfectly smooth porcelain jester's mask. A wide, almost childish smile is frozen on it, revealing neat, square teeth. But the main thing is his eyes. Two huge, moist eyes, in the style of old Disney cartoons: snow-white sclera and bottomless black pupils. They look at you with sincere, slightly naive curiosity.

A tall, three-horned cap crowns her head, adorned with bells that jingle softly with every movement. A blue cloak flutters behind her, and a bright red bow hangs on her chest, atop her skinny, unnaturally elongated torso.

In the center of the chest, where the human heart is, a nucleus pulsates with a soft light through the translucent flesh. It seems to breathe.

The arms… they hang almost to the ground. They look like corrugated pipes or the legs of a cartoon elephant that can stretch. The hands are hidden in large white gloves, and underneath them, on the palm itself, if you look closely, you can see a neat yellow circle—like a button or a little sun.

The legs are similarly constructed: they can extend into long "tubes," allowing it to grow even taller or, conversely, shrink. The shoes are long, comical jester's shoes with upturned toes, making the creature appear about to break into a dance.

The funniest detail is his outfit. He wears incredibly wide, baggy trousers that reach almost to his knees in puffy puffs. And just below his ankle, where the trousers are cinched with an elastic band to reveal his thin, tubular legs, hang five cheerful bells arranged in a triangle. The elastic is positioned just above the bone, as if deliberately designed to jingle the bells with every step.

And most importantly, he's alive. His Disney-esque eyes can change expression: surprised, sad, happy. That smile can be tender or mischievous, or filled with fear or anger. Despite his size and mechanical design, he's not intimidating. He seems like a lost, kind giant from a fairy tale that suddenly came true.