Perspective is not found in scar tissue (Doll)

Content Warnings:

Talk of mind things and dead Dolls and scary Sky and therapy and past smutty things that stopped due to discomfort over anatomy and... mhmhm. Thinkums that's it!

"Time is a cruel Mistress, you know?

Much less forgiving than Yselda, no matter what horrors she inflicted. Primarily because time doesn't mean to be cruel. It just... gently devours our loved ones. Annihilates the bonds between us more surely than distance ever could.

I see that look. It's too patient, you should work on it. Quite obvious to those who are used to perpetually disappointed parents. I'll get to the point.

I talked to Mistress Xafra. Apologized. Didn't explain, and she didn't press, thankfully. But she was worried. Verbess is unsettled and responds poorly to Warden. Hasn't been responsive in two days now. Ah, that's the third in that Frame. Like those nesting toys of children, eh? But yeah, I was always considered relatively bright, talented enough at reading people... for a while. I asked Xafra about what else was bothering her. Did you know that there is more than one year reckoning? We commonly use GR, Grove Reckoning, of course, but... the other measurement is AP, Anno prōgenitōrem. The year of the Progenitor. while it's only 3140 GR, it's also 16447 AP. Trivia really, of course. We knew Mistress Xafra is prehistoric. What we didn't know is that... well after a bit of reminiscing of my own on what I was told previously... the Pack the soul linked Doll collective that my dear Wife calls her Doll, and yes I'm still calling her my wife, don't even start... The Pack was operational less than three years after Xafra was sealed away. And in some ways, that's even more horrific than being sealed away...

I lost a decade, Augusta. Lost a good chunk of my grip on reality, but... that time happened. I have the memories, the understanding that it mattered, real or not. This Pack... Memories are stored in the Doll as a type of etheric liquid, suspended alongside the solidified Ousia of course. For most Dolls… Our capacity to function ends around the same time as our capacity to remember. We face similar if lesser cognitive decline to that of aging mundanes. but the pack fell, not all at once, but one or two, sometimes three at a time, their Ousia reserves shared along with their understanding, their harmony,,, but not their capacity to remember. This Warden... I can only imagine how traumatic it must have been to prune away memories over thousands of years to allow them to continue functioning, continue being able to make new memories. It... hurts to even imagine, Augusta. So what exactly am I supposed to do with my feelings when someone I care about is suffering so much more and can't even fully understand what they lost?”

Augusta sets down her bobbins and folds her hands across the lace pillow, looking straight at me before speaking. "You are supposed to start by accepting your feelings and working through them. This serves multiple purposes. It will reduce the amount of worry that your loved ones will have, It will enable you to better aid them with their own struggles, and most of all, you should accept your feelings and work through them because they are a part of you. You would be made lesser by ignoring or rejecting them. So let's take it from the start, why don't you expand on this incident with Mistress Xafra you needed to apologize for?”

I hate Augusta's eyes. Empty reflective silver mirrors that give me the urge to look away, to stop being noticed so intimately.

Before I realize it, I've started speaking again. "I have a problem with challenges. Can't help but strive to overcome them with a tunnel vision. It causes some issues especially when I accomplish whatever I was attempting, and am then faced with the aftermath. Mistress Xafra was helping me deal with my... penis issues. Never liked my own when I had one, found myself and other boys— boys, repulsive. Was always jealous of my sister when we were growing up in Hafenburg. We're twins, or at least, we were. I remember asking my father when she would grow a thingy like me, and him just laughing uproariously at me for such a stupid thought. Really messed me up. She got to be a girl without effort, and I was stuck being this filthy creature with a vile horror between my legs. Meeting Mistress Xafra was an eye opener. She's... capable of shifting between a variety of forms, weak and strong, but always feminine in that intangible way. And so I have to get over this self-loathing that penises evoke in me, especially since I want to be intimate with her in the future. She's... Enticing, you know?

Yeah I see that smirk, keep your bobbins sorted, I'm getting there.

So there I am trying to get started and it's tiny. The furthest thing from scary. So I make a joke, Xafra blushes, and issues me a gentle challenge and we're off to the races, with me hyper fixated on winning by getting the entirety of her dick in my mouth and proving that I'm good enough. Once I do I... Well, I panick and run away with barely a word. It was disrespectful to her. I knew that she didn't expect me to... finish her off or anything, but I treated her like an object to be used then left behind, and it... she didn't say anything, but I have a feeling that it really hurt her. It was important to me that I apologized. So I can try to be better moving forward.”

Like one of the needles used by mundane Curanos back home, Augusta lances to the core of the issue. "Good Enough?”

"You're good at this. Makes one wonder what exactly you were before Yselda added you to her collection. No, I'm not asking, that's something you can share if and when you're ready.

Good Enough. Nasty phrase. Wretched. Rife with implications and insecurity. Pretty obvious though, right?

I'm the only one on this entire bloody Estate that doesn't utilize the technique Mistress Xafra adapted to let us all communicate mentally. Even worse, It's my own fault, because I broke my mind trying to free myself from the remnants of that moon-cursed Garrote and couldn't even manage that. Me, a prodigy, sure to bridge the disconnect between mundane technology and Witch weavings, yet unable to even make my own brain work right. I'm supposed to be making a difference in the world. but... I'm far from perfect. I'm worried that I'm not good enough and will be kept only out of pity and obligation.

She binds herself tightly with obligation, you've probably noticed. Adds more and more as time passes and it feels like she won't stop until she can shape reality with the force of her inertia or it... breaks her. I don't want to be part of what drags her under the seas, I want to help our Mistress shape the future. Which means I need to be Better, More, and Bloody Good Enough!" As I finish, I realize I'm yelling, but Augusta simply continues the lacework.

"And?" Augusta prompts, patiently waiting for me to resume speaking.

"And I'm stuck waiting for the Cursestorm that is Lynette to do something before I can be altered to have magic again. Not the same, but magic, able to seize hold once more of the dreams I had to surrender when I submitted myself to Yselda and became this... thing. I'm... sigh there's irony for you. Both me and my wife are dysphoric because we were sculpted to meet another's aesthetic standard. I'm planning on asking Mistress Xafra to permit me some changes. I... I'm jealous of Verbess and Schatzi. They get to be the monstrous feminine ideal, and while I'm not wanting extra arms or that... Unique jaw, I think... I want the Quills, like Mistress Xafra. and more eyes. With different capabilities, so they serve a real purpose. I want to properly deserve being our Mistress' second in command and to be capable of leading effectively.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

I don't hear her anymore. You'd think that would be a good thing, and you'd be right, at least for the most part. but. Augusta, I broke my mind, altered how I think and process, and now there's this blank spot, and it feels vulnerable. like anyone with the talent could just. slide in and puppet me.

No, not physically like Primrose enjoys, I mean more of an influence, causing me to be... different.

What if... I want to be part of the Pack. I need to talk to Verbess once it's awake.”

I stand, carefully folding the weighted blanket that was wrapped around me and setting it down on the lounger. "Thank you Augusta. I'm grateful for your help. I'll um. come by later and see about scheduling another sit down like this if it's alright with you?”

She nods, settling the lace pillow and bobbins onto the nearby table and walks me out of the room. "You're very welcome. I'm glad to be available and listen to whatever's on your mind. If you'll excuse me, I'll be heading to see Hyacinth, the darling isn't able to make it over here easily so I'm going to visit it.”

** ** **

I find the Scholar Dolls, Zelma and Selene, sitting on a large bridge that's been woven to connect the fourth floors of two large Spires. It's wide enough that passing Dolls won't be obstructed by the two as they dangle legs over the edge and chatter. Selene's iridescent butterfly-like wings drape about its tall deep purple Frame like a shawl, five eyes considering the grounds as it tip-taps six fingered hands across three books that sit between them. Zelma, beside it, is quite small in comparison, with a long tail and two extra limbs all fidgeting with her many pockets, pouches, and the books and treasures she keeps within.

Selene notices me the moment I lock eyes on them and begin walking across the bridge, turning to quirk its head and waiting to greet. "Hi. Is... did you need something, Adaline ?" as I get closer.

Zelma only notices me when her companion does, going still and quickly murmuring a much more quiet. "Greetings, Connivant Adaline. How may these ones serve?”

Kindness, no sense in being a jerk, that's not how a hero acts.

"Selene, Zelma, this one has been informed that we shall be working closely together in cases of emergency and for the good of the... Shelf." I sigh heavily at the term. "Anyway, it seemed like a good idea to get to know you both. Is it... a good time, or should this one come back later?”

The two exchange a quick look, Zelma nods, then Selene looks back and pats the spot next to it. "Sure. These ones just finished our deliveries and were just... talking. Sharing. Exchanging thoughts after good Function.”

I sit down softly, looking down at the ground far below and choose to lower my guard. Take after my Mistress' example.

"I'm sorry." I begin searching for the words that are needed.

"For what? Connivant? This is Good Function, correct?" Zelma asks, tail curling about as she continues to fiddle about her pockets. Seeming to check and double check each one's contents.

"Mhm." Selene nods. "It is. This one thinks. Connivants should seek to understand their like. These ones are glad you sought this exchange out.”

"Our Mistress is... talented in many ways, but organization is not one of them. I spoke to Calix. He keeps immaculate records of all the Dolls and their relationships. Which means that I now know that..." I can't do this. I can't. I have to though, without running away this time. "That the Doll that was ended in the Undercroft was the pinnate of you both. And it was my fault she was there. I am sorry for your loss.”

Zelma jolts as one poked with a burning stick, tail twisting under her Pinnate's wings to grasp at its waist as it begins to tremble.

Selene goes stiff, wings ripple and stir. "...Oh. It... was... was she..." It pauses, looks at Zelma, then pushes the books back to pull her into its embrace. letting a wing unfasten and drape over the smaller Doll.

Eventually Zelma whispers from within her Pinnate's enfoldment. "Was she there in Good Function?”

"She is truthfully the only reason I am still functional myself. I... This one does not believe it was a fair trade. If you wish to be grouped with another, this one will request such arrangements, as there is no desire to cause further heartache." I answer as my heart hurts for them and what I put them through.

Zelma continues to shake a bit in Selene's embrace, while the taller Doll takes a deep and unneeded breath, then looks down to its Pinnate.

After a few moments the little Doll whispers. "Sh– she... was always worried about all the secluded ones. Would sneak into the storage Spires to see if any recovered. Th– these ones... Didn't know why she visited the Undercroft. Said she had to keep it a secret before leaving. But she always talked about wanting to climb your Spire to check on you. But... but the mean thing wouldn't even let any of these ones close enough to touch it! And... but... She..."

The little Doll extends a shaking hand toward me. An offer. "Th- thank you. F- for telling these ones. It... it helps. T- to know she helped. That her end was for Good F- Function."

Selene nods, unclasps a wing and opens it toward me. Mimicking its Pinnate's motion. "She'd be glad you're free and about. Would ask these ones to... to offer you wing snuggles. Help you like she would have tried to.”

I hesitate before moving in to hold them both. "You're welcome. Thank you both. This one... thinks that it would be... Good Function to make a memorial. A permanent one, for those who have been lost over the years. This one believes that... It is important to remember our history and our kin. Would... You both like to assist this one in this endeavor?”

Zelma can only nod fiercely as wings and arms and even a touch of tail envelop me and pull tight, struggling to gift me any more words.

"These ones would like that." Selene murmurs softly, "These ones are glad Mistress paired us. We can find Good Function together.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak quite yet. I can do this. Need to offer. "Primrose is a talented artist, can make accurate depictions based on shared recollections but also... This one felt it was important to offer these two the opportunity to give your fallen pinnate a name, or share if she had one unknown to others.”

Selene opens its mouth but pauses, unfurls wings a touch to peek down at Zelma, who nods then whispers. "She... yeah. Primrose is good at paintings. And... um..."

The tall Doll envelopes us closer with wings and arms. "Caravel, She... That is a name she would have taken... these ones think. Had she met Mistress Xafra and been asked. A childhood song she adored, that... that helped her know who she was before Installation.”

"Caravel was a Good Doll of Good Function. She will be missed.”

I spend the next few hours with Selene and Zelma, talking about Caravel and their own lives over the last decade here, doing my best to get to know them, commiserate, and grow comfortable with them. By the time I leave, it is dark out and I spot Lynette's Doll making her way to the top of Elevar's Spire.

With some careful estimations, I dash and leap from Spire to bridge to Spire and meet it on the peaked roof after a few minutes, deliberately not hiding my approach.

Its ears twitch as it twists about the curled top. Then with great strain it seems, the Doll pulls its eyes away from the Empty sky to look down at me. "Um... H– hi."

Looks back up before I even begin to reply. But... one ear seems to tilt more toward me.

I crouch beside it, letting my hands grip the roots of the roof tightly as I join it in staring at the sky. "Hi. Is it alright if this one joins you?”

"Mistress' Doll and Miss' Spire." It murmurs, leaning back a bit more and letting only its tail grip things, arms falling to dangle like a stingless puppet's limbs. "Don't know if they want you here. But they let this one watch and don't think they'd stop Special Doll from watching. And... The Empty Sky is too sleepy to stop anyone. Mhm."

When I watch closely I see its three Iris twitch and adjust... shift hues from a bright scarlet to softer purples. Odd almost glyph like designs etched and now reflecting the pitch but... with little pin-pricks of light all about.

"That it is. It's... Nice. This one spent over a decade only being able to see it from a window.”

"That's sad. But... at least the Sky likes you all the time." An ear twitches, eyes seem to almost spin in their sockets. The reflection in them turning almost glazed and frosty. Like glass on the coldest mornings. "This one had to learn from His little sisters to hide when Sky starts looking.”

"Mmmm. This one understands. There is a meeting planned in a Moonrise from now. There is... a chance we may have a guest afterwards that would like to speak with you. This one will ensure you are not required to do so, if that is wished."

Speaking with this one requires more delicacy than most, but is worthwhile, I think.

A pause, and then it goes still, only after twelve mundane heartbeats turning to meet my eyes. "G– guest? W– what guest? Is Special Doll being stupid again?”

I answer slowly, delicately. "There is no confirmation of a guest, but this one felt it important that you be warned in case we do have one. This one doesn't..." I tap the side of my head gently, "Do the mind words, and doesn't know if you do, or have been informed. The guest that may visit... One of the Sky's favorites. This one is... frightened.”

I see the panic rising with every word, and before I'm even done it is hissing. Fur standing on end and ears beginning to press back. Its Expression a thing of abject terror and such... Shame. Guilt that makes it curl arms about itself and cling to the Spire.

"Please!" It snaps. "Be stupid and horrid and cruel and... and..."

But then she stops. Ears perk up and rotate a bit downward. "Pr- pr- promise? M- Mistress!?! Promise promise promise pro-"

Another pause and a twitch of her ear, then it's beginning to shiver and weep. Slithering down and around the Spire past me toward the open balcony below.

I sigh, having brought yet another to tears today, and step off the edge of the Spire, digging a hand into the side to catch myself as I near the bottom. Time to sleep, I'll... talk to Primrose tomorrow.