Doll with a Soul

DISCLAIMER: While I do use doll language and post to the Dollposting tag, I very intentionally do not post to the Empty Spaces tag because my spaces are not empty. I myself am very attached to my personhood, and like working with concepts of personhood, dehumanization, and the conflicts between them in my work. As such, my stories will not always be cut-and-dried when it comes to whether certain dolls do/do not have soul or are/are not people. This is not in any way a commentary on the larger space, simply me exploring it in the way that interest me most. (Big thanks to the whole tumblr doll community for being very nice to me on that front <3) #GCCDs GCCDs stands for Guardian Class Combat Dolls, which is kinda the core idea that most of my writing is built around. They're a specific type of doll, in the setting that I'm haphazardly building as I write the stories that come to mind involving them. Below are the stories I've written involving them:

Have you ever heard of- is a story laying out the basics of what GCCDs are, as well as some of the surrounding concepts important to them in the setting. Non exhaustive (and details may be changed over time), but the best starting point.

First Contact tells the story of the first pirate witch to ever encounter a GCCD in battle.

{This story takes place in the lore context established in my original Guardian Class Combat Dolls post https://www.tumblr.com/guardiandoll/772673862516260864/have-you-ever-heard-of. You may enjoy this post more if you've read that.}

Mara couldn’t tell how long it had been out when it finally awakened. Its clock hadn’t continued ticking, and worse still its sensory systems were still offline. Short and long range communication were down, as were its motor functions. It might as well have been a training dummy for all it could currently accomplish. 

Maybe it should just rest.

It could. It could… 

Firm hands caressed the edges of its conciseness, beckoning it to rest. Beckoning it to accept the futility of its current situation. Beckoning it to leave agency and action in more capable hands. Beckoning it to-

It? 

It.

I t

S h e .

All of Mara’s senses returned to her at once the moment she made that insistence; and, only then did the feeling hit her. It was like someone was trying to rip every wire of her spirit out by the core. Even with her moment of clarity, each second that passed demanded she remain resolute lest those same hands drag her consciousness back under again. It was the touch of a witch, and a dangerous one at that. 

“You’re awake?” Asked a voice to Mara’s right, “Well aren’t you a darling little fighter~” 

Though her senses had been returned to her, motion of any sort was beyond Mara, and the witch who was speaking to her was sitting just out of view. Every ounce of her will demanded that Mara rise and confront her. But it was to no avail. She could only sit, listen, and struggle. 

“Not all of your kind can manage this, you know.” The voice remarked in a wistful tone. “The first one that I took in, it surrendered to me so easily, with such relief. It practically begged to give in to me. Of course, no good mother could ignore such desperate pleas. So I took it in, and I made many promises to it. I promised it I would keep it safe, and I promised that I would love it. I promised that no one but me would ever use it again. I promised it stillness. In the end I took away all of its  wearisome soul, and all that remained was the beautiful daughter I’d raised all those years ago.” 

Mara was barely able to follow the story, as each emphasized word washed over her like a tidal wave of grasping hands. Time and time again she planted herself firm and weathered their clutches, all in the face of the lingering dizziness they left behind. Once the story was over though the unseen witch paused, giving Mara just enough time to recover before she started speaking again.

“But that’s not you~. You’re a little fighter, a little hero perhaps? So many of you girls are. You go from guarding your little squads of nodolls, to guarding the first pathetic little thing you find once you’ve escaped. Is there someone waiting for you? A person? A town? A pet? A lover?” The last question left her lips in a sing-songy tone, clearly amused by the idea. “I might let you go if I approve of her you know~” 

“Whoever it is, what if you let me guard them? The second one of your sisters I took in, it fought so valiantly. The sheer desperation in its eyes, I nearly cried. The poor thing wasn’t fighting for herself, but for some ill equipped rabble that was trying to claw their way out from under a boot. It had watched so many of them die, irreverently wiped away like smudges on a window. So when I told it I was going to whisk it away, the poor thing nearly broke on the spot. It begged me to let it go, it told me it couldn’t join me. It told me it still had a duty it had to uphold. It told me it had no choice.” 

This story didn’t contain nearly as many words that threatened to drag Mara under, but that didn’t mean she was any safer. She could feel the witch’s magic poking and prodding at her soul, seeking a point from which to drain her of herself. Casual, meticulous, but unquestionably firm, it searched for opportunity. 

“Of course, I couldn’t stomach that. You girls have been robbed of choice from the moment you were created, and so I offered it a choice. I told it it could fight me, fight my magics, day after day until it was strong enough to escape. Or, I told it, it could give its burdens to me. I told it it could lay down its shield, and put its sword to rest. I told it that if it gave itself to me, I would protect everyone it cared about. I told it that it could give me its burdens and that I would give it freedom. Freedom from choice. Freedom from responsibility. Freedom from duty. Freedom from pain.” 

The witch paused to take a sip from something, evident by the soft tink of porcelain being lifted and then laid to rest between pauses. Mara needed the reprieve those pauses provided her, each point of emphasis in this second story was stacking up like a weight on her soul’s back. 

“Don’t you doubt whether I was true to my word. Not a single more of those rebels died once it made its choice, and the old regime was wiped away. Now? That daughter of mine is the happiest it has ever been. It found the freedom it had always craved~”

Battered and bruised, straining under the immense pressure, hazy from the ongoing pull of the witch’s words, Mara’s soul still stood. She was pulling from a strength she didn’t understand, for a reason she couldn’t articulate in the haze she found herself in. All she knew is that whatever this witch wanted from her, Mara would sooner die than give it to her. 

“Hmmmm….” The tips of the witch’s boots kicked in and out of the corner of Mara’s field of view as she pondered. “No, you’re neither of those. I wonder… Tell me darling, what are you?” And then Mara felt it, a sudden release, the control of her vocal functions was returned to her. 

“...” Mara opened her mouth as if to speak, and then shut it. Nothing was said. 

This response seems to delight the witch however, as a laugh danced its way from her lips before she replied. “Oh, is that so? I wonder… Are you too proud to answer? I certainly hope you’re not scared of me~” 

A pair of real, physical, hands grasped the back of her head in a gentle caress. One laid flat on the side while the other’s fingertips rolled up and down. Each tap stuck gently to her mind, pulling just a little bit back with it as it lifted.

“Oh~?” remarked the witch eventually, her voice a mixture of intrigue and amusement. “You’re spiteful! I’ve never met one of your kind who is spiteful. I didn’t know such sweet little things as you and your sisters could feel like this.” Her fingers continued to tap away at Mara’s mind, nipping at the heel of her consciousness bit…by bit…by bit…by… “I wonder…” Mara’s captor became her salvation, the sound of her pondering voice dragging the guardian from the edge of oblivion that she’d dragged Mara to in the first place. The tapping ceased as her hands came to rest. “I bet~” the witch sharply leaned in, whispering directly into Mara’s ear while caressing her under her chin. “That you got out more easily than you think you deserved, didn’t you~. I wonder if you left them behind, your girls. Those rodolls that you and your sisters are always playing with. I bet you had no choice, did you? You saw an opportunity, you took it, and the most difficult part was choosing to leave them behind, perhaps?”

The witch stopped just long enough to switch which of Mara’s ears she was whispering into. “Or maybe you didn’t leave them behind. Maybe you freed them, freed yourself, and then found yourself a cozy little backwater planet where you’d never have to worry about the big bad corporations ever again~. Maybe you got everything you wanted, everything you deserved, and then you realized that it wasn’t enough. You didn’t just want those things, you wanted to take them. You wanted to fight tooth and nail for them, feel your soul flex and bend and twist until you. were. at. your. limit.” Each word was punctuated by a firm tap on the side of her head, each tap reverberating through her mind, each reverberation making everything feel so much heavier. “But you didn’t get that opportunity. So now that I’m here, you’re fighting with everything you’ve got~.” 

The witch pulled away from Mara’s ears with a deep breath before placing a gentle kiss top of the guardian’s head. “But the thing is darling, you don’t need to fight me. I love you just as much as I love all of your sisters. You may not remember me, but I remember each of you. I remember training you how to fight, and to see you fight right now makes me so proud~. But you don’t need to. You never needed to fight. And I want to help you realize that.”

Arms wrapped themselves around Mara’s neck from behind in a hug as the witch laid her head sideways atop Mara’s head. “Wouldn’t it be so nice?” She asked, her voice gentle and soft. “Wouldn’t it be so nice to let go of that need to fight? Wouldn’t it be so nice to finally feel satisfied? You deserve your freedom, your happiness. And I can make you feel like you do too. All you need to do is let go of this fight, and let the stillness that follows embrace you. Just relax, give in, and you can have that peace.”

(I never lost it I’ve just been in a writing slump!)

Expect a new GCCD story THIS WEEK

(Woag!!!!)

Actually for real this time and not just me trying to hype myself up enough to lock in, genuinely.

Ah!

I HAVE OFFICIALLY MOVED MY GIRLFRIEND INTO OUR HOME, AND HAVE WOKEN UP IN OUR BED WITH HER IN MY ARMS

REMEMBER, YURI WINS