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Side Story:
Sep. 14th, 2011 08:11 pmA short life cast in porcelain
The Rhodes Electronics Corperation would like to remind you that while our Dolls make wonderful companions, certain "acts" void their warrenty. Please refrain from rough handling of any of our products.
-Standard warning printed on the inner thigh and neck of all Dolls.
Everyday begins the same, as he rises from his bed I wait in seated postion in a nearby chair, silently watching as he chooses clothing for the day, brushes his teeth, and prepares for the day's work. Then, gently patting me on the head or giving me a kiss on the cheek, he makes for the door. Leaving me to my own devices till he once more returned home. For months I had no idea what to do with such length of time, and spent them in the same chair in which I slept. For endless hours I would close my eyes and imagine what the world outside the small space we both shared. My imagination was weak, allowing only for images of myself at his side, among a sea of similar beings on a dark sidewalk lit only by electric lamps like the one hanging eternally over the bed beside my chair. I longed to see the outside world, but danger and risk outclassed my need to experince novelty. Nothing new meant nothing dangerous, that is what he always said. My longing for the world outside my chair subsided with time, only to be replaced by an endless sense of emptiness.
Without the ideal of a world bigger then this little room, the chair, and the bed, life become unbearable. When He would return each night and regal me with stories of his work, though never of the rest of his life, I begged for something to fill the void. He answered by silently handing me something long and riddled with buttons. Televison, I think it was called, came to replace my thoughts of the outside world. On the screen of the glowing box played out stories like those in the books he sometimes accidently left on the bed. I could sit for hours and watch images of the outside world, content I could at least experince the outside by paroxy. For awhile the television occupied my interest, the varation of stories and images presenting a picture I could live safely within while he was away. Safty was the key word in all of this, the televison to was a matter of keeping me from harm's way by living in a sterlie vision of the world that only existed within the four corners of a glowing box. I needed to see the outside world, any part of it, for myself.
A little information is a dangerous thing. Be sure to keep your companion away from dangerous materials.
-Warning printed on the last page of all Doll's instruction manuels.
Though I wished for it, I still could not escape from the chair, the bed, and the glowing box. For he never taught me how to leave all of it behind. Again my only recourse was to ask of his help. When he again came home from work I gently explained my desire to see where he went everyday, I thought such a small area could meet the strict standards of safty he insisted I follow on a daily basis. There was a long silence after I made my request. Eventually, it was with a nod i belive, I was finally allowed to leave the world of the chair, at least for the period of a single sunrise to set. I was told with great care to wear something simple for my trip, rather then the lacy gowns that normally adorn my pale frame, not to speak, as my tone could give away my indentity, and to keep behind him no matter where either of us went. Despite the restrictions, those I were used to, I was filled with joy to finally leave this place. This was the nine month of my being with him.
Despite apperences, Dolls are not people and do not have the same inteligence or capabilties that we humans do. Even the most simple of concepts may confuse them.
-From the introduction of "A history of Dolls" by Dr. Michal Rhodes
The world outside the living box is wonderful. The sun shines on my skin, though I cannot feel it, and the grass under my feet crushes though my weight, though I do not feel that either. There are other people like him here, walking like they did in my imagination during the first three months. Though I wish to speak to all of the others around us, he says this is a mad idea and merely drags me faster and faster towards his place of work. The work box is much like the living box, the same lights hang over the desks as over the bed and the same television hangs upon the wall as well. But here, I thought, there were more like him. I wondered if each of them, so different yet similar to him, had someone like me in their living box. Someone just waiting to see the sun hanging in the sky or the grass beneath their feet. The thought makes me sad, I wish to meet those like me. For a moment I try to express this fact to him, but my desires fall flat and are met with a loud noise I knew to mean it was time for my speech to cease. I spent the rest of my day in the work box sitting silenty by the opening we had come in besides. Once in a great while others like him would attempt to speak to me, though his command prohibitted me from replying in kind, no matter how much I wished to. Several hours later, he returned with a pile of pens and papers held to his chest. I recognized the items from when he came home at night, they menant it was time to return to the living box.
It is important to interact with your Doll on a daily basis. Like a small child or simple person, a doll will show signs of depression and anger if ignored or treated poorly. In more extreme casis mild cases of rebelion, akin to those of a teen age human may arise. Force, or complete destruction of personality, is the only cure for such actions.
-The care and raising of Dolls
When we return it was the time of darkness again, normally he would tell me of his day at work. However today, as I was there in person, there was no need for such conversation. Instead I enquire on the thoughts I had formed that day, if those at work had someone like me at their home, if they were forced to stay inside as I was. He did not respond well to my questioning, his face grew red and with great force his hand collided with the side of my face, leaving a red mark of quite some size in it's wake. Wanting no more of such touching, I returned to my chair for the night, wondering no more of the others like me or even the work he did every day. Each period after "the period in which he struck me" I confined my thought to my own mind, speaking no more of them to him. Period in and out I sit in my chair, or the chair besides the television, and try once more to imagine the world outside. I had been their once, it was easier now, the picture more vivid in my mind. The stories of his work each night no longer interested me, for they were to much like the tedium I had experinced everyday sitting in the chair.
Dolls who grow violent or rebellious should be disposed of so that order may be maintained.
-Governmental PSA circa 2036
The next day, when he left for work as per usual, I shadowed his existance perfectly. Finally, through my mimicry, the door had been opened. I was free of the chair once and for all! The world outiside was much like it was that period so long ago. The sun was still in the sky, the grass still resting on the ground beneath my feet. I try my best to fit in, as I was told by him previously, but I could not help talking o the others like him, asking about the others like me. The answers were varied. Some were to busy to answer my plea, others humored by he fact that I could speak so well, some merely looked in wonder at the fact that I had managed to be outdoors on my own at all.
Being on my own, away from him and the chair, was a wondeful experince. Though, through my own limited knowledge of the outside world and his all to soon return to the living box, I to had to return to the chair, bed, light, and television. Sprinting, I made sure to make things as they had been when he left, carefully locking the front exit, cleaning anything that was out of place, and returning to my usual spot in the chair in front of the television. I had though that everything was perfect, that my little trip to the outside would mine and mine alone. It was only as he returned that I realized my mistake, the light clothing that I wore when I last visited the outside were still sitting on my back and still baring the mark and scent of the outside.
The mere sight of my grass steined skirt was enough for him to strike me once more, this time harder then the last. My arm bled a liquid of some strange color from the area of impact, that didn't stop further impacts upon my frame. More and more wounds appeared my body, turning my frame from a pale white to a deep red. My mind reeled, unable to comprehend why he who had brought me to this place just months ago could do such a thing. The thought did not last long, as some sharp periced my head ending that and all thoughts I may have had in the future. My body fell upon the floor without cerimony, leaving my mind to wander as the rest of my form was carted from the living box and to a place I had never seen before.The room to which I was taken was entirely white in coloring, in the corner was a chair much like the one in which I had spent most of my day.
My first impluse was to sit in the chair, however my body would not allow for such a thing as it was no capable of such an impulse. Before long, he came to see me, still fuming over my trip to the outside. I tried to explain how sorry I was and that would be a good girl from now on. My words did not reach him for my mouth was not capable of such an act either. Now, I could see, only my mind still worked properly. The rest had long fallen pray to a elaborette machine towards the rear of the white room. My mind would soon follw suit, placed upon a clean table with a heavy press moving ever closer. Despite limitations I called for him to save me, that I would return to the chair for all times! None it matter, the press soon came down upon my head, just it had previously done to my body. There was no fanfare for my death, as I could see in the last moments of my lucidness. My body was to be recycled for the construction of a new being, one that didn't long for the outside world, one that would follow instructions without question. As for my mind, I could not possiblly know its fate for many a reason. Though, I hoped in my final moments, if another like me was built with my recycled mind I hope they could live on the outside away from the box, the bed, the chair, and the light.
Keep our cities clean. Remember to recycle old and defective dolls.
-Governmental slogan circa 2037.
The Rhodes Electronics Corperation would like to remind you that while our Dolls make wonderful companions, certain "acts" void their warrenty. Please refrain from rough handling of any of our products.
-Standard warning printed on the inner thigh and neck of all Dolls.
Everyday begins the same, as he rises from his bed I wait in seated postion in a nearby chair, silently watching as he chooses clothing for the day, brushes his teeth, and prepares for the day's work. Then, gently patting me on the head or giving me a kiss on the cheek, he makes for the door. Leaving me to my own devices till he once more returned home. For months I had no idea what to do with such length of time, and spent them in the same chair in which I slept. For endless hours I would close my eyes and imagine what the world outside the small space we both shared. My imagination was weak, allowing only for images of myself at his side, among a sea of similar beings on a dark sidewalk lit only by electric lamps like the one hanging eternally over the bed beside my chair. I longed to see the outside world, but danger and risk outclassed my need to experince novelty. Nothing new meant nothing dangerous, that is what he always said. My longing for the world outside my chair subsided with time, only to be replaced by an endless sense of emptiness.
Without the ideal of a world bigger then this little room, the chair, and the bed, life become unbearable. When He would return each night and regal me with stories of his work, though never of the rest of his life, I begged for something to fill the void. He answered by silently handing me something long and riddled with buttons. Televison, I think it was called, came to replace my thoughts of the outside world. On the screen of the glowing box played out stories like those in the books he sometimes accidently left on the bed. I could sit for hours and watch images of the outside world, content I could at least experince the outside by paroxy. For awhile the television occupied my interest, the varation of stories and images presenting a picture I could live safely within while he was away. Safty was the key word in all of this, the televison to was a matter of keeping me from harm's way by living in a sterlie vision of the world that only existed within the four corners of a glowing box. I needed to see the outside world, any part of it, for myself.
A little information is a dangerous thing. Be sure to keep your companion away from dangerous materials.
-Warning printed on the last page of all Doll's instruction manuels.
Though I wished for it, I still could not escape from the chair, the bed, and the glowing box. For he never taught me how to leave all of it behind. Again my only recourse was to ask of his help. When he again came home from work I gently explained my desire to see where he went everyday, I thought such a small area could meet the strict standards of safty he insisted I follow on a daily basis. There was a long silence after I made my request. Eventually, it was with a nod i belive, I was finally allowed to leave the world of the chair, at least for the period of a single sunrise to set. I was told with great care to wear something simple for my trip, rather then the lacy gowns that normally adorn my pale frame, not to speak, as my tone could give away my indentity, and to keep behind him no matter where either of us went. Despite the restrictions, those I were used to, I was filled with joy to finally leave this place. This was the nine month of my being with him.
Despite apperences, Dolls are not people and do not have the same inteligence or capabilties that we humans do. Even the most simple of concepts may confuse them.
-From the introduction of "A history of Dolls" by Dr. Michal Rhodes
The world outside the living box is wonderful. The sun shines on my skin, though I cannot feel it, and the grass under my feet crushes though my weight, though I do not feel that either. There are other people like him here, walking like they did in my imagination during the first three months. Though I wish to speak to all of the others around us, he says this is a mad idea and merely drags me faster and faster towards his place of work. The work box is much like the living box, the same lights hang over the desks as over the bed and the same television hangs upon the wall as well. But here, I thought, there were more like him. I wondered if each of them, so different yet similar to him, had someone like me in their living box. Someone just waiting to see the sun hanging in the sky or the grass beneath their feet. The thought makes me sad, I wish to meet those like me. For a moment I try to express this fact to him, but my desires fall flat and are met with a loud noise I knew to mean it was time for my speech to cease. I spent the rest of my day in the work box sitting silenty by the opening we had come in besides. Once in a great while others like him would attempt to speak to me, though his command prohibitted me from replying in kind, no matter how much I wished to. Several hours later, he returned with a pile of pens and papers held to his chest. I recognized the items from when he came home at night, they menant it was time to return to the living box.
It is important to interact with your Doll on a daily basis. Like a small child or simple person, a doll will show signs of depression and anger if ignored or treated poorly. In more extreme casis mild cases of rebelion, akin to those of a teen age human may arise. Force, or complete destruction of personality, is the only cure for such actions.
-The care and raising of Dolls
When we return it was the time of darkness again, normally he would tell me of his day at work. However today, as I was there in person, there was no need for such conversation. Instead I enquire on the thoughts I had formed that day, if those at work had someone like me at their home, if they were forced to stay inside as I was. He did not respond well to my questioning, his face grew red and with great force his hand collided with the side of my face, leaving a red mark of quite some size in it's wake. Wanting no more of such touching, I returned to my chair for the night, wondering no more of the others like me or even the work he did every day. Each period after "the period in which he struck me" I confined my thought to my own mind, speaking no more of them to him. Period in and out I sit in my chair, or the chair besides the television, and try once more to imagine the world outside. I had been their once, it was easier now, the picture more vivid in my mind. The stories of his work each night no longer interested me, for they were to much like the tedium I had experinced everyday sitting in the chair.
Dolls who grow violent or rebellious should be disposed of so that order may be maintained.
-Governmental PSA circa 2036
The next day, when he left for work as per usual, I shadowed his existance perfectly. Finally, through my mimicry, the door had been opened. I was free of the chair once and for all! The world outiside was much like it was that period so long ago. The sun was still in the sky, the grass still resting on the ground beneath my feet. I try my best to fit in, as I was told by him previously, but I could not help talking o the others like him, asking about the others like me. The answers were varied. Some were to busy to answer my plea, others humored by he fact that I could speak so well, some merely looked in wonder at the fact that I had managed to be outdoors on my own at all.
Being on my own, away from him and the chair, was a wondeful experince. Though, through my own limited knowledge of the outside world and his all to soon return to the living box, I to had to return to the chair, bed, light, and television. Sprinting, I made sure to make things as they had been when he left, carefully locking the front exit, cleaning anything that was out of place, and returning to my usual spot in the chair in front of the television. I had though that everything was perfect, that my little trip to the outside would mine and mine alone. It was only as he returned that I realized my mistake, the light clothing that I wore when I last visited the outside were still sitting on my back and still baring the mark and scent of the outside.
The mere sight of my grass steined skirt was enough for him to strike me once more, this time harder then the last. My arm bled a liquid of some strange color from the area of impact, that didn't stop further impacts upon my frame. More and more wounds appeared my body, turning my frame from a pale white to a deep red. My mind reeled, unable to comprehend why he who had brought me to this place just months ago could do such a thing. The thought did not last long, as some sharp periced my head ending that and all thoughts I may have had in the future. My body fell upon the floor without cerimony, leaving my mind to wander as the rest of my form was carted from the living box and to a place I had never seen before.The room to which I was taken was entirely white in coloring, in the corner was a chair much like the one in which I had spent most of my day.
My first impluse was to sit in the chair, however my body would not allow for such a thing as it was no capable of such an impulse. Before long, he came to see me, still fuming over my trip to the outside. I tried to explain how sorry I was and that would be a good girl from now on. My words did not reach him for my mouth was not capable of such an act either. Now, I could see, only my mind still worked properly. The rest had long fallen pray to a elaborette machine towards the rear of the white room. My mind would soon follw suit, placed upon a clean table with a heavy press moving ever closer. Despite limitations I called for him to save me, that I would return to the chair for all times! None it matter, the press soon came down upon my head, just it had previously done to my body. There was no fanfare for my death, as I could see in the last moments of my lucidness. My body was to be recycled for the construction of a new being, one that didn't long for the outside world, one that would follow instructions without question. As for my mind, I could not possiblly know its fate for many a reason. Though, I hoped in my final moments, if another like me was built with my recycled mind I hope they could live on the outside away from the box, the bed, the chair, and the light.
Keep our cities clean. Remember to recycle old and defective dolls.
-Governmental slogan circa 2037.
