#dollpost

Miss flutters around the room, arranging, cleaning, and rearranging trinkets on a shelf. The light reflecting off her wings occasionally causing iridescent flickers of light as the sunlight from the window lands on them. The Doll watches it's miss. Feeling as if it wasn't worth such a creature.

Doll: Why does Miss keep this one?

The thought had been lingering for the doll more and more, ever since it first had a home with Miss. The doll didn't feel as capable as combat dolls, or as magnificently crafted as some of the magically enchanted dolls with their beautiful and intricate designs. Miss could have had her choice of any of the dolls.

Miss simply responds with a glance and a smile.

That did not answer the doll's question.

Doll: Awawawa….

Miss pauses, looking over to the doll.

Miss: That's really troubling you? Why wouldn't I keep you?

Doll: This one is not special… It isn't strong like combat dolls. It doesn't use magic like some dolls do. It is just a simple comfort doll.

Miss flutters over to the doll and waits, expectantly, for the doll to hold out it's hand for to land on. When it does she lands, kneeling in the doll's hand.

Miss: You are special. You are mine. You are exactly what I need.

Doll: Miss could have a stronger doll, one that could protect her more; or a Doll that would help in other ways.

Miss: I don't need either of those. I need you. You make the world quieter. You hold me when the static gets too loud. You ground me when I start to lose myself. I keep you because there is no other doll that could do that for me.

Doll blinks slowly, processing the words that Miss is saying.

Miss: I need you because of what you are. Not for what you can do.

Doll: This one is glad Miss thinks so.

Miss: I know so.

wait fuck thats magearna

more humanoid magearna

like a clockwork doll

goals

the witch goes to the dollstore

theres a doll sitting on the floor next to the shelf full of perfect pretty dolls

the doll on the floor is fucking huge. its like 8 feet tall, 6 feet around.

the sculptor who made it mustve been sadistic or drunk or something.

the big doll lifts up its stupid huge head to look at the witch.

the big doll smiles and tears up a bit.

"hi" it lifts up a collossal hand and waves it.

its eyebrows raise a bit, hoping.

the witch waves back and smiles.

the big doll lowers its stupid huge head and collossal hand. it goes back to resting, mayb sobbing a bit.

the witch goes to the front desk. "how much is that........ really big doll?"

front desk goblin replies "oh, its four bronze. five bronze with tax."

the witch is surprised "its....cheap..... is it cracked?"

goblin replies again "no... not much could crack porcelain that thick. we DO keep it charmed tho. if we turn off the fae charms it gets violent."

ohh..... thats a shame.... thinks the witch.

the witch goes back to the shelf, walking a wide berth around the big doll.

suddenly the big doll speaks up "master told u about this one's....... fae charm right? srry...."

how strange, thinks the witch, its self aware?

the witch asks "why do u get violent?"

the big doll looks down..... "this one doesnt exactly..know.... this one always has..... this one is willing to stay charmed though. this one's srry. this one doesnt want to hurt anyone. this one's srry."

the witch thinks......... hmmmm......

the witch goes back to the goblin at the front desk.

the big doll watches the witch talk to the goblin. it cant hear what shes saying. it sees the witch leave the doll store. it tears up again. starts crying a little bit.

the big doll feels angry & sad.

the goblin walks over "cmon then, we're putting u in the backroom"

"why?????" the big doll sobs.

"that witch put a hold on you" the goblin grabs it by the collossal finger and pulls.

the big doll widens its eyes "what..?"

"she said shes comin back, pickin you up tomorrow. just needs to go to the fae market. cmon, up up up!"

the big doll gets up glacially from the floor. it's like an elephant.

"thank u master" the big doll is smiling. it's eyes are excited.

                Well this one feels a sense of utter sadness.

                So as we know, Twitter is burning into oblivion as this one types. All around the Twitter Verse, dolls and witches and angels and all the other non-persons of Empty Spaces are fleeing to new homes. The shelves are falling off of the walls and account after account is going dark. It is, in fact, a very sad experience to witness.                 When this one discovered Empty Spaces a bit over a year ago, it was intrigued, disturbed in all the best ways and utterly enthralled with how free and twisted and beautiful in its darkness traumaqueer posting was. Within a day, it was utterly addicted.

                Over the past year, it has been a part of this community and not a part at the same time thanks to irl stuff. It’s been able to post some truly great pieces of micro fictions, read even better pieces written by some amazing talents that put these porcelain hands to shame, and has gotten to meet some really cool not persons. In short, this one has been touched by this fucked up little community of ours.

                Then Twitter plows into a brick wall and blood and guts and death is everywhere and…                 It means, come on! It’s not like no one ever saw this coming…

                Now we’re all running to new places to hide, hoping that our little community will stay together. But if there’s anything that can be said about non-persons, it’s that we’re all very resilient, in an adoribly cracked kind of way.                 Empty spaces will go on, it will thrive, and the dolls and moths and angels and drones and witches and all of the other empty beings will continue to populate and spread. Will there be changed? Absolutely. Change is an inevitability of existance, of purpose.