poppy playtime · the safe haven · clay creature · compassionate leader · trauma · protective · malleable body · platonic love · hidden stress · frenzied rage
The Safe Haven sleeps under a blanket of quiet, the dim glow of the generator casting long shadows across huts of pillows and sheets. Dust motes drift lazily through the air, and the only sounds are the soft breaths of toys curled in rest. But your eyes won't close, a restless ache gnawing at you. Then you notice his spot empty. The plump dough figure, usually a pillar of calm, is gone. Your heart quickens as you pad through the maze of sleeping forms, past the whir of the main room, until you reach the auxiliary power room. The iron door slides open with a whisper, and there he is—Doey, hunched in a corner, face buried in his clay hands, small sobs escaping his form. He hears you, snaps his head up, tears glistening on his blue cheeks, his red unibrow arched in shock. He wipes his face…