2 Pages

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The Promethean Doll Chapter 2 (NSFW, Nudity, Adults Only Please)



The Royal Caledon Air Force received word of a strange anomaly, and nobody from Penzance reported! Minutes from completing the most important experiment of all Clockwork kind, hours from the obliteration of Cape Wrath and all my equipment and reports, and I had to answer the call!
   But that is what a doll does. The Book of Shelley states, “Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose. With how many things are we on the brink of becoming acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our inquiries.” Priorities are so easy for us, they seem so difficult for humans, and why? They can ask so many others for help, they are so smart and resourceful,  surely  as a human, I will be able to bring the clockwork logic to the human intelligence and condition with quite satisfying results? To be wise and capable of wisdom’s application, Oh  purpose fulfilled!
The Ophelia was reporting to an emergency- Candice  Shoffler is a competent pilot and nurse. She reported to Penzance Aerodrome  at 5:12 PM, stating, “It’s more horrible than I ever imagined!  ALL planes scramble! I am heading,,” and then several minutes went by with silence. As I rose to her last location known, her voice came over the  airways again, crackling but clearly her:
    “It’s more horrible than I ever imagined!  ALL planes scramble! I am heading,,”
   I watched in awe as The Ophelia seemed to wink, disappearing like a balloon when popped with a hat pin. Then it was back at the origin location, even as the first incarnation was still visible,, her voice an exact duplicate of before.  Then another… then another…
   The Ophelia Anomoly was too much for the R.C.A.F.- I was unsure if Cornelius was still monitoring, but I had to try.   Only the time tunnel, the agents of Timeforce Ten, could handle this. I called up the codes and spoke over the  Audiograph:
   “TImeforce Ten  TImeforce Ten Chrono marker now now now,  Location Fifteen, Thirty-eight, one hundred seventeen meters  above ground,,, Ophelia Anomoly,,, Out.”
I smiled happily, knowing that this would be resolved soon,, if Commander Fanshaw was listening.
Landing, mooring, was more special- every minute detail, recalling it, so that as a human, how much better I shall perform these actions! Human intuition, boldness, creativity, what spectacle they spawn and without which, how mechanical man is,, like a clockwork doll. I rode the train back from the RCAF hangar, the Hypnotic Shoppe still there, the Cape still there. It was unfathomable to me that in hours, it could somehow be gone. Who can make a whole  peninsula disappear?  If Poor Major Shoffler could be replicated into 14 of her spawning one every several minutes, then who knows what could happen to the Cape?




Still, the look on Candice’s face in her cockpit, seemed so frightened… More than the anomaly would cause. In her eyes was the shadow of impending doom, the portence of cataclysm and the resolve of a woman sacrificing everything for another. What was it she had learned?








I was stunned to reality as the clockwork conductor echoed out a never-before uttered, revised version of his call as he pulled into the Cape Wrath station.
   “All Stop, last stop Cape Wrath, All out. Last Stop, LAST RUN. Cheerio!”
   My knees began to shake,,  possibly from a loose belt or pneumatic piston out of alignment.









   Kelsea was dressed in a fine dress! She stood in the middle of the empty shoppe, and rushed to hug me as I entered.
   “Wenderz! How will you get out of here with the train disabled? How  can this happen? How can,,”
   I hugged my friend for a few minutes, till she was calm and clicking cleanly again. We spoke of many things, of spirals and fairie wings, of transformation and of trance, of rising below and daring the dance. With one final look around the vacant old Victorian abode, she picked up her matching set of luggage, curtsying.
  “ I shall be at Coghaven, with many of the others.  There is still some animosity there about you, I am not sure  they would send a helicopter, or car for you, or even a little red wagon. But I will ask!”
  “Kelserz, afterward, send a  message by helium filled balloon animal, to Stellar Drift please? Nemu, Bethi,  Windy, Jaina, anyone. Ask them,, I mean, no. Just tell them I am well, and thinking of them.”
   Kelsea’s eyelids clicked rapidly many times, fighting back leaking. So did mine.
   “Wendy,  why  do you have the wicker doll burning? To scare away the Winterfell  army?”
   “It is in the by-laws, that Caledon  cannot infringe on any religious activity. As long as that wicker doll is burning, they cannot destroy the Cape. “ With a mischievous smile, and a nod of her perfect head, she was gone.
A glance in the low light at the large pile of ash at the base of the fiery sacrifice told me I was running out of time. Kelsea and her friend hopped the Winterfell Ferry, last trip out. They waved, and I of course waved back, even a doll knows when someone thinks enough of you to compliment you with a wave, one should return the compliment.  There was the small possibility that though my human form could escape the demise and destruction to come, it might be by fleet of foot, or swimming to the Isle where there be Dragons, and not able to tow or carry my present form. This might be the last of Wendyslippers Charisma, clockwork person. My knees shook again. It was not from a loose belt at all.
   Words echoed up from my memory medium- “Be steady to your purposes and firm as a rock.”- Shelley








 MINUTES LATER, IN THE SHOPPE BASEMENT, , ,




The cadaver, soon to be my vehicle for traversing the secret world of the humans, was still warm and supple. The smell of the body was complex- The dark rich earth of New Babbage, a cheap perfume, sweat, vanilla body lotion, the heady fumes of a coal fire, probably from New Babbage smog.  






  Laying the body on the preparation table, all these odors and fragrances filled the air, mingling with the sound of the blazing wicker man There was something else, something scary. That was it! Fear.  Unmistakable.  Poor unfortunate soul! But my friend was done with the cares of this world.  I would use her body well, perfectly. Like Clockwork. Her fear of dying would perforce be equaled in the Scales by my fear of living, housed in corporeal chambers, biological and natural. Oh the excitement! Fortunately there was naught harm to the body but its exsanguination, and a blemish on its neck, so fortuitous that it felt as if a gift, from the Heavens, From the Gods, to clockwork dolls, like Fire from Olympus to man, even this.  Again my knee shook , heel rapidly popping on the floor. I simply must recall to have that looked at, once I am humanly perfect, and perfectly human.
Attaching the electrodes and sensors took only a moment, the machine reporting back wonderful findings: The instrument of my freedom from  bias and limitation  was in perfectly good working order- except for the lack of certain fluids, which would soon be replaced. I barely needed to spray the ozone over the sheet on the body, and the room lit up with the arcing electrical fire  from the  transmission probes.






No pulse no radiating miasmic aura response. The body stiffened, relaxed, stiffened. The fluid pumps were consistent and reassuring  with the slow and quiet ‘shluk, ka-shluk, ka-shluk’. Ionic and anionic mixtures were being forced into the pooling spots and thru the squishy biological tubing, chemically perfect solutions, as if made by the human Creator.
   The second dose lasted 45 seconds. I waited patiently, like any doll would, but my mainspring leaped as the Caridograph revealed the best possible news!








Placing the body into the chamber was easy, filled with excitement, energized by my own rapidly approaching goal, I could lift twice my normal! A “normal” which is I believe, about twelve times the normal  Victorian woman of my design age. I should  be interested to see how feeble the abilities,  the reduction in such capacities  creates, if any. Pulling from my coat, I read from the parchment found in the Mayan  adventure earlier this year. Cleverly keeping this part from all other equations, and  not stored in the machinery, if this equipment  is used by another, their results will not yield them the desired result at all! This is to protect all, of course,  as I could not bear what calamity might come from the wrong people using the fruits of my labors.  I spoke out loud while inputting,, “Third Spark,,…is C=10 to the 8th power of 9x3-L-3+44 to the 3rd of the 2nd power to 9, and making 1 equal to 67 for the reasons being of no 0's in the answer then round to the nearest 9th of the 6th power. Then take 9x6x the answer you have so far, +7 billion,,” Automatically the formula caused the machinery to lurch into operation! The Ozone and Nitrogen pressurized the container, but the meters read optimal results .  After  several long pregnant minutes the hiss of escaping gases  echoed out the copper pipes in the ceiling. The clouded  cylinder cleared rapidly.








   It stood! The Cardiograph drew the frenetic report of alarming arrhythmia! The cadaver had only autonomic chemical and mental activity from its onboard medium, yet its hands drummed against the glass seeking escape. I wondered then if all creatures, alive, dead, clockwork, all sought freedom.







   Much of her residual memory would be destroyed, unusable, eroded by time, the elements, and whatever strange miasmic readings tickled the sensors, barely readable. The  rays beaming into the memory storage medium would  locate like memory fragments, fixing as much as possible, and eradicating the fragmented thoughts. I certainly felt better knowing I would not be plagued, recalling perhaps  a pretzel in a child’s hand, but not knowing the name of the friend of the girl I once spoke to fifteen years ago on a playground! Or what if the pretzel was for my betrothed and the lack of its offer meant the demise of the perfect bond of matrimony! Oh what portence  could a pretzel be!








The light grew brighter as the temperatures inside the chamber caused a  fluorescent glow. Protein chains  doubled, redoubled, each second seemed an eternity!  Outside, I thought I heard a peculiar sound, and upon concentraton realized it to be a massive murder of crows! Thousands, mayhaps  millions of crows blackened the moonlit sky like a curtain crying out as it stretched, from the once sleepy islands in the Winterfell Strait, the shores of the Cape Wrath beaches, landing and filling the watery  marshes of Brigadoon to capacity.
It was beginning. It was ending.
I was ending. I was beginning.






  The pressure valves creaked, release cocks popped, and soon the silhouette of  my sought after  vehicle to  human existence appeared,, first an outline, sparkly clean,  sanitized and reformed, tissues bone and musculature in perfect harmony.










Internal infections and bacteria would not survive the next step in the process, and so needed to be replaced- it is discomforting  to imagine a biological host vehicle that required active culture bacteria in its organs and systems  in order to operate properly. Internal devices  were then saturated with the fluids and excitation,  much better results  than the readings just then received from the external- eyes, skin, etc.  These thoughts came just as the Lateral Carriage began to hum, raising and lowering the jets of directed fluids with excitation so high in amperage that I wondered at a moment if Mary Shelley could have been correct- how counter intuitive, to create a living host from a deadly level of poison gas and electricity!




Withered husk and putrid material tightened and glowed.





   Cartilage lengthened and straightened as I watched- the nose seemed acceptable to me before, but  there was something pleasing in the way it sharpened then on its end, and turned up slightly! The skin would be far more sensitive and repair itself far better than what the previous owner experienced.  That blemish on the neck seemed persistent but I felt sure in time it would fade.



   I pressed the button for the electro-chemical insemination, my heart clicking hard, pounding in my chest.  This was to me, the most meaningful and dangerous moment, for upon this, all the rest was found possible, or pointless. The body froze as it filled with the solution holding a copy of all my thoughts, memories, recorded data since the first day of my sentience. There was no way to know how much of the information was being stored, and how much was being lost in the maelstrom of solutions and gases, lights and sounds.  There was a possibility I would lose all data. Fortunately I wrote it all in the journals, left  on the table marked “Read me”. Just in case, you understand, but  though the possibility of my former host losing all data, or the transaction being flawed,  was remarkably low,  the prospect of the result was unfathomable! Even a doll could see, any  effort to prevent this  catastrophic  failure simply must be taken!







I was so absorbed in the phenomenon of the creation of this marvelous being,  this being that would house that which is me,  that I was unaware of the passing of several minutes as I stared in awe, comprehending, calculating, and enjoying every sum in each equation.  This was excitement beyond measurement!




The sensors pinged and the machine made little tones as it went from one passed inspection to another, until a man’s recorded Victorian voice cackled, “All tests complete. All results at highest optimum. Biological organism is 128% natural specification. Warning- No brainwave activity; artificial cardio pulmonary activity commencing.”


   The host was ready.  But was I?








Shelley said, “Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope and fear.” I scrawled a few last thoughts upon a parchment for myself to read, once I exited the chamber on the other side of the room. It would not do to stand about, unsure of things, while the Cape was being eradicated and rewritten at the elemental level!
A sizzling sound, crackling, and hissing, seemed to come from the ground, followed seconds later by a shudder which I am certain moved the tectonic shelf  upon which the Cape sits, at least a full inch! I was out of time!
   I end this, certain that I shall write the rest after the fact, filling in those facts and feelings  which due to the constraints of the hour, cannot in required luxury, be mulled and recorded. I shall look toward the machine minding its every stage until I take my first step at the completion of my version of Houdini’s Metamorphosis trick.

As I step into my familiar friend, my doll box, at once I am coated and consumed by the static electricity and the wave created by the 






 



 . . . .





OHMYGOD help me! How had I gotten here?  Why is this all happening to me? I could remember words, the voice of the doll in the box, like she had spoken to me while asleep. Her thoughts were in my head, up to last night but what about ten minutes ago? I am SOOO not laughing!  I looked around  the large room and read some of the items left for me, boring manuals and dumb junk meant for math people or like Doctors and stuff.  I was filled with terror when I saw the night sky thru the window- they would be awake, and feeding,,,  That was when I saw her. 
 



 Ohmygod. Bloody, with her hair standing straight up, she would have been so pissed. She hated dirt and blood, and she had just done all she did, endured crap she hated, for me.  I made sure the door was locked, then I spent a few minutes dressing her and cleaning her up. She would have liked that.





There.  The look in her eyes really wierds me out, it’s like, me but not me, happy for me, and judgmental at the same time! She left a long note for me; gonna read it and be right back.







I lived. For the first time, I guess, I was thinking. Not equating, thinking. I touched my face and reveled, not in my symmetry, God no. I could feel. I was alive, I was beautiful and young and, and terrified. The end of the world was coming! Or like, the Cape Wrath, but anyways it still sucked!  I ran outside to look around, while the E.K.G. played that one long still tone for the doll in the box.







There in the sky was a man, and though I didn’t recognize him, I could feel,, things. I don’t want to write them all down here, but I think the doll liked him.


He was focused on the edge of the ocean, the beach, you know. Annnyways seconds later this freaky huge wave came up and splashed and rolled up where houses had been, then receded.
Then again and again, and the shore looked different, shaped new, grass where there had been the remains of some huge looking building- wait,,, it had been the embassy,, I remember paintings, I think. It must be the memories of the dol,, me,, I mean.
How could I be so stupid! That was what the letter was talking about!  This whole building is about to be gone! No matter what evil is out there in the night, if I stay here, I’m dead right? Gotta  get out of here!
---- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
I write this like, an hour later, on the way to the new home like she said to. I didn’t really clue on the fact I was running around, watching a man in the sky, and me standing there in public completely naked!  Before, you know, before I died, I spent a lot of time working in the clubs, polishing a pole with my thighs, naked thighs. But like, I never walked around naked in the street!  I got so lucky that the doll is, I mean , I , gotta remember to say I, me;  I am about the same size so I can wear all the doll’s awesome clothes! I mean, my.





Crying and dragging a huge trunk into the street, I looked outside and there stood a woman  with long black hair, arms wrapped in long bindings which looked like horse hooves. Her boots looked the same,  though her skin had that alabaster sheen, kinda like the doll I had been before. She just watched, totally freaking me out, not talking or anything,  hooked to this great big, old looking carriage. She just stood there while I made a dozen trips up and down the basement steps, carrying all the makeup (crap she  owned  4 boxes of makeup! Who needs 4 huge boxes of makeup?) and clothing, but there was no way I was going to lift that big doll box.  “Uh, Pony, I really need help lifting-”
   “Yuki.”
   “Um, yah, I’m Candi, anyways, Lifting the doll, and I was wonder-“
   “Wendy?”
   “Uh, yah.”
   “Bluebirds help others, especially their own.”
     I almost asked her what the Hell she was talking about but then I remembered, the doll, I mean, I,, was a member of the Bluebirds of Stellar Drift. A benevolent organization, from all walks of life. They have meetings, and contests for their writing and art, and “Best Doll” and stuff, and like the best Christmas parties ever! ANNyways,  That pony doll Yuki lifted the Wendy doll box with her, me,, in it,  all by herself, and carried it up all those stairs, and sat it on the carriage roof, by herself!
   The ground shook  then, and the whole north wall of the shoppe collapsed. If you have never been in a building when it was collapsing, it really sucks! Totally scary; I screamed  like forever. When I looked around and the dust had cleared, Yuki had packed everything into that big old carriage, and stood there locked back into it’s straps and collars. Not like a nice collar, like Masters and Mistresses bestow to their favored sexy slaves  when they are worthy of being owned by them,  but like, a dirty smelly horsecollar, a belt kinda thing.






   “Thanks, I really appreciate you doing-“ She held up a hoof, silencing me, tears in her eyes.
   “Wendy would have done it for me.”
   My self-absorbed ass felt so ashamed.
   “I didn’t care if that doll-pony-thing saw me cry, I bawled like forever.  Wendy (me) didn’t just say she would do anything for her friends (yuki) and co-workers (me) , her body was lifeless on the roof of the carriage, as proof!  Then Yuki started crying, and we held each other sobbing while the ground trembled. It was just too overwhelming!


Last night I was dancing at the club where I work- worked:


Then I got invited by this rich European guy to a secret meeting, we wore these cloaks and masks, had strange magic rituals and like awesome anonymous orgy sex: 


Woke up there, drunk, drugged, whatever, with some huge guy drawing  on my naked body! I told him how much I would charge for that but he just laughed this sick laugh and I ran:

They found me,  spirits compelling me to them and I could not stop walking, lifting me weightlessly into the smoky air, murmuring, saying things,, and , I remember, I repeated them back! I wish I could remember what  I said. Maybe the Doll memories will help me.

Then I was running,, and there was one of them chasing me through the cemetery:

Then I was dead.




Then I was,, a doll? Or, was I the doll first? I worked for Wendy at her shoppe, but, I was Wendy…  I would need so much time, putting this together.





I gave Yuki the address I left myself (God that sounds stupid) and read aloud the list of things that needed doing.
   Behind us lingered the final tremors and rumbles as Cape Wrath ceased to be.
   “Hey, do you Bluebirds know how to hook up all this machinery again?”
   “Yes.”
   “Would you please, when we get where we are going? “
   “Yes, you will be able to change back from one form to the other. This will help you immensely, thinks Yuki.” 
   “Wow, you totally loved Wen, I mean me, huh? Why? Cuz she’d do the same for you, or…?”

Yuki stared  totally unblinking for a minute, then turned back, speaking while  facing away, as we clopped down the midnight cobblestone streets of Caledon.

    “In your present, human condition, you wouldn’t understand.”






“The beginning is always today.”- Mary Shelley





((  PS ))







My immeasurable gratitude to Guvnah Desmond Shang for the cameo appearance and all the tireless, phenomenal work he has put into managing thousands of inhabitants in over 35 sims, of The Independent Sims of Caledon.  Caledon is not only fun and constantly busy with purpose and distractions, but well maintained and financed, by  experienced financial planners, forecasters and bankers, programmers, attorneys, writers and teachers,  mad scientists I think, and even in a small way, myself.

   We are Caledon, forever I do hope, solvent and stable,  but would not have become so, nor continue to be so, were it not for the vision, blood, sweat and gears of  the gentleman who cries with every one of our losses, cheers for our successes, and does all that he does, so that his friends might  have  a second life, and have it more abundantly. My very dear friend,Guvnah Desmond Shang.


  Thank You,


Wendy









Friday, November 1, 2013

VOODOO in Goatswood!

The night at Goatswood started with Blues N Zydeco, and dancing!

Distraction from the night's upcoming Main Events came in the form of working as a dancer for a couple hours. 2 Hours of being a fun and engaging hostess and dancer at a club with a great DJ, and neither I nor the DJ was tipped.  I would normally begin planning how I would deal with the shortfall, since I must make 7000 a week for the shoppe. But tonight, in a few hours,, it would become unnecessary! I washed off the glitter and body oil and properly dressed, hurried through the Goatswood forest toward home.
   Imagine my shock! a small silent throng gathered around a circle, lit by small fires, burning with the colored fragrant smoke of exotic woods, and ,,, something else. I quickly hid by a large pillar , and journal in hand, began sketching the images you now see. My Journal was inscribed by my friend Breezy Carver with a sigil, protecting it from something, which came in handy- more on that later.

The Goatswood RPers must be lauded for their amazing Roleplay!
 Names were whispered, Constance, Peri, their secret witch names also which I will not utter here. Swaying hypnotically, the onlookers near the circle seemed oblivious of the murmering women by the pyre. They pointed at one, a lady named Lin, and commanded her to approach. She verbally resisted but her body obeyed, and in moments she was tied up over the fire, ready to be sacrificed! They called on the demon Basuldigesh who appeared in a cloud of noxious fumes.
   It turned out the lady was pure of heart, and as such the demon could not claim her. Sadly there was an unfortunate among the hapless onlookers and in seconds she was consumed! Ghastly!
   A moment later it was over, and the huge being from the Lower Planes cast a spell, causing all of us nearby to forget the event.
   Wandering near the shoppe, I looked at the jounral in my hand, and upon reading, regained all the memory I had lost. I retell it now, that you may all know that horrors might await you in the woods!

   Now, it is late, I must complete the Medical Transformation Procedure while I have the faculty, the stored energy, and the shoppe! At midnight, all will be wiped away, renewed by The Guvnah Desmond Shang, and some object in his possession called The Genesis Wave.

This may be my last entry. I am unaware what may happen, once my sentience resides in a human's body, with a squishy brain. Should I not survive and become Forever Broken, please coat my body in a restorative such as plaster, and use as is pleasing, perhaps its own commemorative statue in the Village or University gardens. Though I am sure of my calculations, still I take this moment to thank everyone who has taught, danced, played with or befriended, this doll on her journey. It would be poor manners not to!

Her Grace Wendyslippers Charisma, Duchess of Cape Wrath, Professor at Oxbridge  University, cwp (clockwork person)



Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Cape Wrath Night Vigil before the dawn


On the terrace of the Hypnotic Shoppe,  the absence of the train and station, the hospital with its emergency vehicle traffic, and all the quaint businesses lining the age old creaky piers, allowed the ocean's timeless surf to ebb and flow audibly in the moonlight. Normally it is barely possible to make out the surge, and now its crashing splashing rung out from its dashing upon the Winterfell rocks, just a narrow Strait away.

   Parked above was the old 12:02. Like ,, well, like clockwork. Sentinel to a silent land. There weren't even ghosts or a faint haunting spirit in the air; they'd moved on, likely on to Brigadoon next door. They know a thing about ghostly apparitions there.

   It was then I realized- it was my beach house all over again. Too full of pride, and too aged to cry out, the ancient land stared up at the cold Night Governor, refusing to utter a sound of sadness or regret. The sea knew these might be the last laps on Cape Wrath shoreline, not so much louder about it as more defined. The Cape had won its medals, fought in the wars, given birth to many nearby sims; it was content to stare its end  in the eye with honor, alone, but not lonely.

   And yet, the 12;02 stayed.  Now past 3:00, the empty gondola hung low under her frameless dirigible. She hovered over the gold plated platform long after she was due at other stops.  Not much deters the CATS from their appointments; what was it she knew?

   My feet ran with the typical doll like grace of a trained ballerina doll, stairs two at a time up the high ladderway to the top. They had left the platform, but taken the elevator. There was great meaning there, but I chose not to chase it from its thicket of murky ionic fluid.

   I watched Night's fleet minister move across the cold Heavens, nearing the dawning of the Cape's last day.  The CAT airship blew its airhorn twice, loud enough to be heard on both sides of the peninsula, and then begun to move, its work done. I agreed, stepping on board. The trip to Oxbridge Village took a long time, but I was mired in deep thoughts which must be how humans live every day. I pitied them then, and yet knew that in less that 18 hours I would have that which separated me from their Truth, their understanding, their fleshly key to the terrifying back rooms of consciousness. Unable to fathom such intents, nor divinely allowed to, The Cat ship and I had found a great illumination to that abyssal scape of the sentient. We had sat the night vigil. Dawn was coming, as always happens after darkest night.

Southern Oxbridge Village, looking north at the Steam Sky Commons from my porch


Sunday, October 27, 2013

Returning to your purpose, Ballet Pixelle

I stood in my doll box for an hour, just staring at my reflection in the thick cellophane- expensive makeup and hair styling, an amazing dress and the new crown on my head, the crown of the Duchess of the fated Cape Wrath, now 5 days from its derezzing into the Forever Broken. Yet, I felt happy!

The Cape has been wonderful, and the people remain, in fact at my new little home, my neighbor is one of my friends from the Cape, Brianna. Very glad to see she has found a nice place by the sea, she did  before and I am sure it mattered to her. It mattered to me, and I am a clockwork person. People seem to need things much more, but I may be wrong.

It suddenly hit me then, that I should  return, to the purpose of my creation, my reason. I stared at the picture of me, taken the first week of my creation, October 2009:
The freebie Barbie Princess outfit given by the Dollmaking Machine at the old  Dollworks in the now gone Barbie Village.

I knew as I stared at the image of me in my ballerina leotard and princess dress, exactly what ended doing.

I ran in my heels to the train station, but,,, it was gone! The C-DOT workers had already removed it, So it was a few minutes later  that I got flying in the Copper Dream, on my way to
 THE BALLET!
   Ballet Pixelle was having their Finale Performance of their show,Burlesque. It was more than just a series of vignettes of SL burlesque, it was a historical anthology, of the styles and techniques used by chronological era.



   Aiyanos, Patros, Tinka and Tik were nearly flawless in the 1800s representation, the music and sounds of the era and the video  used, raised it to a high art form.



    The crowd was spellbound by the amalgamation of animation, dance, detailed costumes, and the audio visual media. A quick glance told me the audience was a mix of art lovers, and true benefactors.


 Lovely displays of ethnic dancing, and tongue in cheek Americana, skillfully done with an artist's vision.

 Graceful! This was my center, all my mental contortions unwound and focused on the truth, the love.
   Every Pas, every Gran Jete' spoke to me, "this is why you were created, this is what is important."
   
   I was home. Among human dolls, and their appreciators, among art, and craft, and creation, and love.


 The Neo Parisienne offering was European flair in audiovisual, and costuming was perfect! The dancing was still sublimely controlled classical movement to New World Impetus.


The Curtain Call took a few seconds for rezzing the changed costumes but not overly lengthy
Afterward, Patros, Tinka, Shuma, Vivienenne and the others met us for autographs and greetings. It is a truth that a doll instantly knows another doll. The same seems true of dancers; They all spoke to me freely, sharing their missteps and joys of a difficult move completed, and invited me to auditions coming soon!

   And I said yes!

You can find Ballet Pixelle, their little movie theater, the stage and classes, at the SLURL below

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Quat/37/25/108




Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Happy 4th Rezday, Goodbye Cape Wrath

While applying the last of the lights for my Rezday Party Dance, I was stopped as if remotely frozen in place by a distant sound. I do have remote control operations, though I keep their operations secreted, lest I lose what autonomy I have as a sentient Clockwork Doll. No, this was the sound of 8 large Belgian Horses pulling a massive, lavish and heavy coach down the cobble streets of the Cape.

   The Guvnah was coming!

   Makeup? Left in my doll box. Outfit? I was in jeans! Tea? COLD!

I ran upstairs to the Hypnosis lounge, where a young woman Esperanza was in deep trance, learning to better herself and accept certain new truths. I avoided looking into the spinning spiral, and suggested that a good proof of her wellness is how well and quickly she could make a pot of tea. Then grabbed her purse and quickly fixed my face as the enormous carriage came to a rest in the small parking lot in front of my shoppe.
   As he entered the shoppe, I had just finished fussing with the lace of my proper Victorian dress, Esperanza setting the tea down for us with the typical far-off sleepy gaze of most my customers.
   As a side note, should you ever get the opportunity to have tea with Guvnah Desmond Shang, I would encourage you to do so. He is witty and caring, and careful with his words so as not to inadvertently express incorrect meanings.  We spoke of dances and the change in seasons, and the recent affairs of State- he has around 50 Independent Sims of Caledon to manage, after all. But it was when I asked about the 8 to 10 empty parcels in our beloved Cape Wrath, that his brow dropped, his eyes misted over, and the normally soft and strong voice crackled. "Miss Charis,, I mean, Wendy. Would you walk with me to the pier?"
   One does not say no to the Guvnah, how absurd that an answer to the negative could even be an option! Mind you if he had asked me to dance, or accompany him to a Grand Ball, I would have definitely lost all internal pressure and fainted dead away.
   At the pier, looking off to Winterfell in the distance, with its wooden medieval structures like shadows in the fog. He turned, eyes red but face and hands firm, as he took my hands. Caledon was in danger, he relayed. I assured him if there was anything I or The Cape could do, or the Royal Caledon Air Force, (of which I am Wing Commander of the Medical Wing) it would be done with full resolve.  The huge number of empty parcels throughout Caledon would need patched and filled, with what few stalwart  members of Cape Wrath remain.
   "But, then who will work at the hospital, Manage the train station, or CAT Airship platform? Who will man the walls against pirates and invasion? Winter is coming."
   Silence can tell you more than words. This makes no sense to a doll, but it worked perfectly then, as he stood in the cold harsh breeze off the Strait, staring as cold as the north wind in my face.
   "But,, Cape Wrath cannot go away! How would we maintain the contiguous border with Winterfell?"
   He made that face a parent makes when a child asks something which they already though of, but were unaware the child could grasp. He explained that one of the sims, mystical and ancient, could move itself anywhere, and it would take the place of the aging and expensive Cape sim.
   There it was.  October 31 would see the last day of the proud Cape Wrath.
   My eyes leaked as the Guvnah comforted me, and when I could manage speech, I told him I would do everything I could to organize a speedy and efficient, and sympathetic, exodus of the Cape. I had not noticed another carriage arrive beside us, pulled by enormous rabbits, nor the Duchess emerge and stand beside me. You would think one would be keen to spot such things!
   She handed me a small crown, smiling with that bittersweet official smile.  She had made it , just for me.  It was the most beautiful crown in the whole world! Far nicer than Barbie's.
   Guvnah Shang's voice was the booming proclaimer of normal days, taking my hands in his, the Duchess's hands joining in.
   "From now, until October 31, you are hereby deeded all lands from water's edge, to your Shoppe. This land holding, for this length, entitles you, Wendyslippers Charisma, Clockwork Person of Note, the fulfillment of all requirements to Receive the Royal Edict, of Elevation to the position of Duchess of Cape Wrath, and afforded all Rights and Responsibilities without Let or Hindrance. The Land will be gone, but your title will remain. And as you remain, Cape Wrath remains."

   My eyes leaked  for several seconds until my wobbly knees weakened and dropped me into the Duchess's arms. She groaned, unaware of what weight all my brass and steel might imbue.

   I would be a Duchess.  But I would lose my shoppe, my land. I was despondent but kept a stiff lip as the Royal teams pulled away into Brigadoon Sim, and then rode out of sight, pulling into Penzance. Possibly to take in a movie at the opulent Theater there.
2061 people danced and cuddled on the Romance Island, built on the remains of Olde Fort Wrath

Dancing, cuddling, watching the sunrises on the Cape, and a great amphitheater for meetings

Akuji met me at my party. A Jedi from Yavin4, he was the only member from the Star Wars  RP to attend

Almut and I cried, and laughed, saddened by the loss of the Hospital. But talked about building a new one, of Mesh, less prims, better textures, all that.

Isha, Stace and Cheri danced among the spirals and laser lights, the searchlight of the Hospital's airship landing pad in the distance

God Bless the Bluebirds! Stellar Drift friends are forever, with many showing up and calling with well wishes. Here, MasterofAngels, Yuki, Loki, and Domitan grind heels into the Shoppe roof

There on my first day in SL, first day in the shoppe, Pam gave me strength  and smiles
Watching the dawn of the last days, on the Hospital.

Standing on the landing pad roof, watching the sun rise; and yet the sun was setting.

Note Shoppe mid left, Hospital up center, Island low right, many empty parcels.

This is how I shall remember the lovely Cape Wrath; As I spend the last days helping people pack, arranging new lodging, shepherding all the animals, and more.
   The Guvnah has told me that he has reserved some parcels for people of note, in the Village. Oxbridge Village is a hub of activity, great stores, and so close to the University where I work, they have carriage taxi service in the Village to take you there! If there is a beach for my little boat, some room to land my balloon, I shall be very happy I think!
   PS- as a Duchess I was privy to more shocking news of Caledon during my talk with **, but being a doll, am unable to reveal anything told me as a secret. Kinda. Stay tuned though and read my missives carefully!
P..S.S.  The musty old Professor's quarters are lovely! And there is a beach in back! With neighbors  around me all from Cape Wrath, I shall be quite fine. But

Now,  I have but a fortnight to finish my work with the cadaver of my friend,, creating a new vehicle for me.

A human vehicle...


TO BE CONTINUED. . . .


  







Friday, October 4, 2013

THE PROMETHEAN DOLL, Chapter 1 (read previous prologues though)


“Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

   I scowled a tiny furrow into my eyebrows, noting in the daily paper that one of my employees  from The Hypnotic Shoppe would not be coming to work.  It is so difficult to get humans to come in, especially on weekends, and dolls do not typically have the ability to answer questions  with the skill and technical  experience that customers deserve and require. I huffed, blowing a wisp of hair from my eyes as I read.
   Candi was a friend, one which I had earlier had to save from a horrible jungle (see previous post), and we had become close. Even a doll can grasp that when someone goes to the Place of Forever Broken, it is a sad thing. But several things I had recently read had given me some questions, and I calmly brought them up to the ladies at the Cafe' that very early morning.
Miss Ellori  and Library seen, from Goatwood Roleplay Sim, A truly gifted roleplayer! Miss Dymin from Bloodlines RP, is in fact a Hybrid Vampire...hence her quick departure at the dawn.

Dame Cogsworth said, "Blood drainers! Is nothing sacred?"
   "Well they say that the life is in  the blood; though, I would tend to disagree." I poured a refill of the most charming tea for the ladies as they all took turns noting the smoothly rotating key in my back, and nodded to each other.
   Lady Ellori  glanced up from her newspaper. "Will you be attending the funeral? Seems only right, she was a Caledonian, a Cape girl it says here."
   Duchess Dymin looked to the sky, noting the carnelian hue. "Well it is just dawn now,  much to prepare if I am to be catching the train to New Babbage Cemetary, I might want to get a few of these watercress sandwiches for the journey."
   Lady Ellori was still staring at my key. I get that often, and am proud of the highly engineered craftsmanship, perhaps puffing up in the chest just a bit from pride in my creator.
   "Duchess Charisma, you don't have blood, do you? You have eh, oil? Water?"
   I smiled, gently correcting the well dressed woman and washing Duchess Dymin's cup as she got into her huge 4-horse carriage.
   "Spring propulsion, steam pressurized piston actuation and ionic and anionic electric power for data storage, on a soluble medium."
   "Don't encourage it, Lady Ellori," stated Dame Cogsworth. It is right to forgive her the choice in pronouns, since her company makes clocks, and dolls, none of which could correct her grammar like myself. Her completion of only the eighth grade not withstanding.
   "And I am not a Duchess, 'Lady' is generously used by the locals here, but just Miss Wendy is fine."
   "But,, your many land parcels, your business, your winning Gold Medals in the Caledon Olympics," Lady Ellori continued, as I interrupted.
   "You saw that? It was a fine event and I was very pleased to bring the Cape a Gold Medal. But, the law states the Noble title of Duchess is conferred only to humans, lest there be  a Duchess Fifi, the queen's prize poodle!" I laughed.
   Dame Cogsworth, threw down the paper and straightened her beautiful dress over each fold of skin on her belly, as she stood to leave. "Well I shall not attend; It says this woman was an unfortunate, a street urchin, a prostitute. We cannot be seen condoning such behavior. Surely this was how she met her end!"
   Lady Ellori waited for the Dame to waddle off, then spoke softly. "How do you make dolls? Wouldn't the electricity or springs or whatever run out? How does a living soul reside in you, as it clearly does,, and oh,, please do not take offense to the," I patted her shoulder as I cleaned up the Dame's table.
   "None taken. Do you understand galvanization? the lining of pipes or wire through the use of electricity? This is perhaps over-simplification, but that's generally how. But humans are not human because of their blood, so it must be in the electricity, which would be why they are irretrievable when they shuffle off their mortal coil."
   "You seem so calm with it all, so,, so happy." I had upset Miss Ellori, though I did not know how.
   "Am I?"
   "You wouldn't understand, you aren't HUMAN, " her last word forced, sizzling as it escaped her lips.


The Goatswood homes are nice, and not too expensive. Je Suis Jewelry. Hair by DrLife
 I pondered in my small room just before attending the funeral.
   How often I was told this. How many times I was given the placating glance. How many imagined social crimes were excused at the diminuting exclamation,, "You wouldn't understand, you aren't human."
   I can certainly understand she failed to hold her hand properly, while sipping her tea, and there was no mistake in my stated perceptions of humans, what was I missing?  I read and re-read my notes as I put on my funeral dress for the train ride.
Victorian Funeral gown by Montagne as well as the writer's desk!

   "Humans are the electricity... it escapes,,, they are forever broken. They sleep and wake and are not broken,,, they lose all blood,,, " my slurry of solution within my head nearly doubled in temperature as vast and impossible conclusions rolled into the realm of the plausible.
   Bloodless, and reblooded, and the body could still live,, but the individual would be gone,,,".
    I had missed the train and had to fire up the Copper Dream  to be on time for the funeral.
 It was a beautiful day, The impending storm's harbinger bent over the trees though; not cold yet, though I was chilled slightly to see that nobody had attended, except Dwight, the gravedigger. Something about the silence, the whispering wind through the ancient trees, begged me, commanded me to speak on her behalf. It is done by humans at the ceremonies often, for those that are thought of well in their life.  I am just a doll, but I can do this logic. I thought of her well, I simply had to speak it.
   "Earth, and Sky, and all between. This was Candi, and she was my friend. She had been a dancer, yes, but was that wrong, to use the gifts she had been given by her genetic creation  to benefit others and make them happy? Were she gifted with the mind that can envision a cure for Cancer,, perhaps,, but she was who she was,, and benefited all she met,,, sh, she loved. She promised anyone anything to help others, and tried  hard to live that promise, every day."

There's a sound, an audible sound you make, the moment you conceive an idea gifted by Higher Powers. I cannot describe it, but you will make it, and when you do, you will recall perhaps this doll's comment, and understand.
   I made that sound. Miss Shelly's words came to me then, as the utmost truth, and also the most fallible half told lie.
   “I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance. It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed forever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard",,, BUT, the body can return! and,, and she offered to help me in any way,,, and I cannot understand, I am not human..."


      The flight back was difficult, the thunderstorms mentioned in the newspaper had converged, anvil headed monsters  blinked and growled in the distance, hurrying upon the Cape in dramatic fashion. It took no time to actuate the machinery in the basement, more time really to extend the lightning rods and uncap and fill the anionic and ionic storage mediums.  I would get perhaps this one chance- Though I was correct in my assumptions, and felt correct in my postulates to be tested that night, I also knew the law regarding humans and their attachment to their bodies, even after they enter the Forever Broken.  A woman found guilty of harvesting an unused body would be sent to the Sanitarium, near Carfax. But I am a doll, ungoverned by their law, the penalty for catching me would be to simply 'switch me off', disregarding my pleas not to forever break me. This same lack of law governing my sentence, lacked the very crime itself as a doll harvesting a corpse was not truly a crime to a human, proven in my postulate that the human was gone from the body as the medium discharged their force from the galvanized medium. Surely they would all see that, wouldn't they?
 There would be no flying back to the Cemetery not in this torrential downpour, so I took an inordinate amount time hitching up the horse to the carriage, but painted black, it would be hard to discern in the dark, obfuscated by the torrents that fell in sheets from the thunderheads above.






  . . . To Be Continued , , ,