From Potash, Growth (Blade)
Content Warnings:
Talk of sexual assault. Talk of self-harm. Driftdream bindings stopping mental things. A CUTIE getting collared. Tamping Dirt. Not knowing why them suns do be weepin'
I need to be more, greater and greater. Uplift my Kin beyond the reach of any others to harm. I sit among the shattered pieces of this DollFrame form of mine and feel revulsion for my actions. With a sigh, I activate Pestherold and render them dust before dropping into my Driftdream.
I look upon my Geists and regret, cursing the weaving that prevents me from knowing what their names were, hating how vulnerable I am to my own moods, weeping at how my initial reaction to learning that there was danger approaching was to feign weakness, pretense at being the lowest of Dolls, incapable of showing emotions.
No More. If I am to be a mother, I must be greater. Mother is the name for Divinity on the lips of children, so that is what I must strive for.
I seek amongst the Wisps for spiraling thoughts, echoes of discordance. Find the ones that whisper thoughts of accepting destruction, of surrender in the face of an implacable foe, and grant them what they crave. My body is mine, a tool, and all its forms are mine. Self-loathing is a thing for lesser beings. I seize on that concept and grow it into acceptance, an inner Truth. A laborer was wrong, but not the idea of a DollFrame. The prosthesis is perfect, so there must be mmmmm…. Näherin.
The concept grates, weavers are not to be trusted, they hurt me, bound me, locked me away. But a seamstress is more, perhaps. A term offered out of affection, appreciation for my skills. I find myself smiling as I head into the village, looking for something in particular. 52 was a tailor, wasn't she? I can use that knowledge as a base. I find the Geist sitting at a bench, doing something with thread on a piece of fabric closed into a circular frame. As I sit down beside her, I allow the memories and understanding to flow forwards through me. Embroidery. I let the craft wander, connecting and blending with my soul weaving and the older divine rituals I had picked up over the years. It feels right. Proper. I don't speak to the Geist, no sense in starting a schism of identity, but I kiss the me that is her on the head before I leave.
With a new perspective I retrace my immediate thoughts again. Divinity? Absurd when I was laid low by this Estate that I still am within. Will aim lower for now. Take over the Estate, determine if it is a real mind or something closer to my Geists, artificially following protocols. Then, either subordinate it or supplant it. Can't just kill it, not with my Mistress and her… what do I consider Lynette? She’s mine of course.
I stop and laugh to myself, the giggling infectious enough that it attracts some of the lovelier Wisps.
Sister Lynette? Dollkin Lynette. Fully-knit in stages Lynette.
Along with a nastier one which calls her a 'Denizen-fucker' before I snatch it out of the dream, examining it closely.
Why would… The Estate. The Denizen Doll. But Dämmerung accepted Lynette and Elevar together. Dämmerung loves humans, created them, would never permit a parasite to invade their sacred sites let alone speak to one tainted by their touch. Unless…
The Driftdream shakes and trembles with my growing comprehension, its foundations unstable. I run to the library, summoning all of my Geists, demanding myselves to split focus, embrace division as they all extract the volumes of each other's past, searching for inconsistencies, clues that must be there. I find snatches that don't add up. A distinct lack of aggression that goes against everything my constituent parts were taught. The Denizens never give chase. Escaping beyond their immediate reach is a proven method, but why… Why would parasites that feed on humans and Witches alike accept disengagement? It unsettles me enough that the Driftdream begins to change, alter in shape, the gap around the library sealing up as half the levels rise above ground, and mushrooms begin to grow in the fields, supported by a mycelial network stemming from the… The Church? WHY? What knowledge do I have that I am hiding from myself?
I dismiss the Geists back to their regular routines as I pace the streets of my Driftdream. I finally flop on my back and look up, mimicking Adaline's new habit and come to a horrific realization. There's only one sun.
** ** **
I surface like one drowning, and climb to my feet, determined to… To what? Act without thinking things through? NO. CaLm FiRsT.
With extra caution, I avoid moving, avoid setting anything in motion yet. First, I should fix my Doll form. Make it a Frame I can enjoy, not just tolerate. Thus, I submerge myself in the alchemical mud once more, and with a firmer ideal in mind, enact the ritual to let it change me. I let my precious dolls and sisters know that I have realized the form I made was giving me… dysphoria, Nettle calls it, and that I am reshaping it. I also let them know that I spoke to Mistress Elevar, and that she is going through some things as well, but should be okay.
Hours pass as I let the pull of Dämmerung envelope me and alter my form to one that… feels better, more true to myself and my desire to create instead of destroy.
I rise up looking similar but fragile, delicate as an Art Doll but made for crafting. My new faceplates are thin, sculpted things, interlocking to permit a variety of expressions and smooth to the touch. I stand just under 5ft tall, shorter than any of my other forms but perfect for this one. Instead, in addition to my six-fingered hands, I have a tail like that of my prosthesis, ending in a soft tentacular club with a number of suckers to increase my fine motor control. Test the flexibility first? I consider as I look into the mirror beside the basin. I do a series of calisthenics, ensuring that this frame can sustain its own weight and has enough flexibility to serve whatever purpose I'll put it through, before checking that my expressions match my feelings and that they are sufficiently comprehensible. Good good. Continue forward with honesty. Lies are for enemies, not loved ones.
I recall Calix to the Spire to ask him a question my Geists were raised to never ever ask.
“Calix… Why do the suns weep?”
He looks at me in puzzlement. "Mistress Xafra, This one has no idea.”
Well fuck.
I shrug. "Alright. Was hoping to get it sorted sooner than later, but it's not actually a rush, comparatively.”
"Yes Mistress. Was there anything else?" Calix asks.
"Mmhm. If you see that Denizen Doll again, I'd like to make it an offer. Try and help relieve its stress, if possible. No need to go seek it out though. Please try and keep yourself safe.”
A week. I can do this. A week. What can I do first? How can I... Improve in this time?
I don't want to claim all of the remaining dolls, the thirty two that are left. At least not directly. but they need to be named, assigned rooms, and given... not work, really, but enrichment activities. Something to do that offers a sense of purpose.
[Nettle, Could I see you for a few minutes?]
[Yes, Ma'am.] She replies immediately, and within a few moments stands before me. "How may I serve, Mistress?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
I politely ignore Calix as he remains, simply turned slightly to face the wall. "Were you and Primrose able to complete that Doll inventory for me?”
"Yes Ma'am." She nods. "Of the Dolls unclaimed by yourself, 32 in total, all but 9 are Art Dolls with secondary traits generally woven into such types to... extend function. 5 Labour, 10 Craft, 2 Scholar, and 5 Combat. The remaining 9 are split nearly evenly between Craft and Labour and Scholar. The only unaccounted for is the Suspected Denizen Frame, which... if you want this one's best guess I would guess Art.”
"Do any of them have Pinnates?”
She nods. "Fifteen, with two pairings of three Dolls together. The remaining... often find themselves sharing time with those fifteen, or keep to themselves.”
"Thank you. We've been given the go ahead to free the rest from the Garrote, but I am... truthfully, Nettle, I am concerned that I am not enough for all of them. I don't think I can provide the level of care or attention they all deserve.”
Her mouth opens to reply with what I can feel would be immediate and... probably trained support. But then she pauses thinking for a few seconds before responding. "Mistress, may this one be honest? It... it has conflicts on this, and wants to convey thoughts well, but also doesn't want to upset you.”
"Please. I would prefer honesty.”
She nods. "The Dolls here will struggle. Only two Mistresses' about and only one claiming any of us is... stressful. Even this one, knowing you, still worries you'll find another Doll to take my place. Because, the Old Mistress being gone was... it hurt. A lot. Even... even though this one now realizes she was horrid, and many of the Dolls fell into dysfunction rather than function without another's direction. This one would rather be hurt by a cruel Mistress than have no one to follow. Maybe others don't feel that way. Maybe that is wrong? This one doesn't know. This one just knows how it hurt. And... and doing something is already going to help, and this one doesn't want you to try and help them all and hurt yourself. But... even if you don't claim them they will love you for helping, and... and you can figure the rest out later?" She stops, taking a shaking breath she does not need. "And... and this one is going to apologize now. Not because she thinks you demand it but... but because something in me is screaming that I have to. This one is sorry Mistress. Please don't get rid of me.”
I reach out and hold her as tight as my frail frame can. "You're mine Nettle, for as long as you want to be.”
She relaxes visibly and hugs me back. "Thank you Mistress. This... this one hopes these words are a product of good function, and help the Mistress.”
"Very much so. Okay. I will claim them all for now, with the understanding that they are not obligated to stay mine if they do not wish to be. However, I'm going to need some help. That's a lot of Dolls to name. Do you think you and Primrose would be up for helping?”
She nods, "Of course Mistress. We..." Her voice goes low, almost conspiratorial. "Some might already have ones they like. Maybe... ask first? We all adore our gifted names but sometimes finding the right one is hard. And they'll still feel special because you asked them and approved the name, this one thinks. But it is glad to help and can start making lists. And... will get Primrose to help when she is finished with her super secret project she won't stop gushing about.”
"I would definitely rather have them have ones they prefer, and won't offer new names that have ones they already like.”
She goes to pull back, but then leans back in to hug me once more. "Thank you for my name, Mistress. This one is glad it did not have anything before. And will help make a list!”
"Thank you. Let's get that done before we free them, so we can ensure to keep them in their groups." I turn to Calix, who has begun to chisel at the wall.
"Calix, can you work with the ladies on the list, specifically to ensure we have proper accommodations set up for the groupings?”
"Oh? You're still here. Yes Mistress, this one can do that." He dashes off up the stairs while I'm left standing there with Nettle.
"So... That's weird, right?”
She looks after him with a look of... not pity. But understanding. "He... he endured much of the Old Mistress' punishments, being her first creation. Somehow has functioned beyond where others stopped. It... Mistress is very kind to keep him and let him be weird. It is nice to see one so hurt be found by a kinder Mistress.”
"Do... You have a rough idea of how old he is?”
She considers this, "Before here? No. But the Old Mistress said she'd been making Dolls for about Fifty years the last time she was here. So... that long? Probably longer? It... it was hard to understand time when there was no Mistress here.”
"Mmhm. He is important to me. His quirks are not a bother, really just cause me some concern on occasion. I don't want to lose any of you.”
Nettle nibbles on her lip, "He is sweet, helped me... all of us early Dolls adjust. As best as the Old Mistress let him. Taught this one how to hide deep within herself to remain functional when things got... when it needed to be punished. It's... hard to see, most times, but he lights up as much as the rest of us when he hears his name called. When he is asked to serve in ways that he is good at. The Old Mistress did not do that. He's survived a long time, and... may not say it, but he really wants this to last. Him being weird is a sign he feels safe. Can express himself without being punished, this one thinks. Else he'd not touch the food this one cooks, especially since he knows how much of a mess it makes.”
"Truthfully, I do the little complaining about the food, because it feels like it helps him feel more in control. But... I really am determined to ensure you can all exist in a way that is safe, comfortable, and fulfilling. It is my purpose. The one I chose.”
"Primrose is right, of course." She smiles. "You really are the best Mistress, and this one is glad to help you do all of those things.”
"That's what I'm striving for. I'm going to check on Adaline now. Do you... have any thoughts about her I should know? You both seemed rather... abrasive at first.”
"Um..." Nettle considers, shuffles her feet. "She was different from the others here. She... she was like Fl- I mean Witch Elevar was, for a while. Not a Doll but... but it was understood that she was going to become one. But special. Picked out a name even. Spoke with the Old Mistress' authority. But... but..." She winces, struggling with herself. "She was a Witch. Not many Witches become Dolls. She misses what was lost? This one thinks. Is a lot like Calix in that being rude makes her feel in control, but... also hates that because she doesn't like to see others hurting? This one was never a Witch and doesn't think it understands her very much though, other than she really seems to like you.”
"And... you're okay with her? Not being mistreated?”
She shuffles again, then her words spill out like a waterfall. "Not... not since before you claimed her and helped her. This one belonged to the Old Mistress but wanted to see Primrose and... and questioned her like a bad Doll and she got upset. Yelled and almost hit us, we think. But she didn't and it's fine and she's been nothing but really really sweet and helpful. Just... she's scary, sometimes. It's just her being weird like Calix. This one doesn't want its Connivant in trouble. Please? This one and Primrose were even planning on asking her if she wanted to cuddle with us in the future.”
"That sounds lovely. She's been improving greatly, I am... still slightly concerned, but that's more about how to help her feel more comfortable, than getting her in trouble. Thank you, Nettle, you've set my mind at ease a great deal.”
She relaxes greatly at that and heads up the stairs to find Primrose and Calix.
I head out around back to look for Adaline where she kneels, grumbling at the pavers that refuse to lay evenly.
"This one doesn't get it! dug the area up, put down the gravel, got it wet, and the pavers still aren't even”
"Did you tamp down the gravel before putting the pavers in place?" I interrupt her complaints, for once feeling entirely in my element.
Adaline stands up and stomps over to me, "What?”
"Basically, you stomp on the gravel like you're doing now, but typically with a pole attached to a large plate surface to pack it down." I explain, doing my best to avoid laughing.
"So that's not some silly superstitious practice?” she says with a deadly serious expression.
I burst out laughing, unable to hold it back. "No, Adaline, it's not. Would you like some help?”
she harrumphs but mutters, “yes please, Mistress” and so I weave Physis into a sheet under the pavers and press down with my will, allowing the pavers to settle in place. “So… Whatcha making here?”
"Better spot for picnics. Feels... cleaner to be on stone instead of grass or roots.”
"Alright. That sounds pretty nice." I carefully lay myself down on the pavers, getting a feel for them. "Yeah, good choice dear.”
"Thanks" she sits down beside me in relief, carefully judging my expression as she leans up against me. "So... What did you need, Mistress?”
"I have learned some news that is... important for you to be aware of, didn't think it would be fair for you to not be told. I... don't think you're going to be happy about it though.*
She looks down at me, brilliant blue eyes watering. "She's back, isn't she?”
"Not exactly. The Lynette that is now... sharing a body with Elevar isn't the one that hurt you. She was made from Elevar's memories of the time before being garroted, and formed as... a tool. A cudgel to be wielded against my Mistress and myself. Elevar agreed but it was clearly under duress. yet…”
"Yet What? What excuse do you have!" Adaline sobs.
Quietly, calmly as I can manage, I explain. "A child of rape is not responsible for the sins of their creator. Right? I'm... not the women whose souls were ripped from their bodies and forced into a tool of domination. I'm... me. And Lynette is... similar. She doesn't even realize the horror of her own creation. but... I won't judge her for what she was made to be, or the memories she carries. Only the things she does now. I can't ask you to accept that, it wouldn't be fair. All I ask is that you don't deliberately act against her without talking to me about it first. You are mine, as is she, though I will not claim her officially yet.”
"It would be easier if it was her.” She growls and glares up at the still weeping sun. “I hate this. So much. It isn't fair. She sounds like I remember.”
"I know, I wish it was easier.”
We sit together for a while, as I silently arrange a surprise with Schatzi. She arrives after about an hour, and by then the tears are dried and Adaline is feeling restless.
She comes carrying a satchel and my frame, the prosthesis freshly cleaned. "Sister, I've brought the things you asked for. My apologies, Miss Adaline, for not stopping by earlier, this one was informed that you were occupied.”
"It's okay, Mistress helped me and explained the issue. Apparently tamping is a real thing.”
Schatzi looks blankly at her before I salvage the situation.
"So, you requested to go for walks, yes? Our dear Schatzi has finished the leatherwork for us both and brought my little grakler frame.”
"Little, Mistress, it's literally bigger than your current form and five times the size of an actual grakler... Wait, what do you mean leatherwork for both of us?" her exasperation turns quickly into suspicion.
I casually pull out a harness from the satchel, "Well, Adaline, this one's for me" I say as I strap it onto the prosthesis.
She nods cautiously and I continue, pulling out a simple but elegant leather collar with a two point lead connection in the front and a buckle in the back. "And this one's for you.”
She squeaks and blushes as I put the collar on her and attach the lead to the harness and collar, before shifting my form into the prosthesis.
I tug her along, beginning a gentle Quill song as Schatzi giggles at our antics.
BIG NEWS!!!!!!
We have 32 Dolls in the story that would love to have names, descriptions, and personalities.
If you'd like to contribute, join the discord and jump into the thread, or feel free to put suggestions in the comments below.