#oopsie!

I have spent many decades observing and commanding the small army of dolls that scurry around my manor. They will follow every word to a fault, blind obedience woven into the foundation of their being. When left unguided, they will be still, thoughtless and motionless until met with a superior will. The only exception, where dolls show initiative and autonomy, is the creation and consumption of tea. Never in all my countless years as a witch have I needed to instruct a doll to drink.

I have discussed this with the others, of course. I doubt that some of them even notice they have dolls at all, the fools. I suppose this curiosity shall rest upon me.

I have chosen Willow. It is one of my oldest and most dutiful, never hesitating to do all I ask. Of course, this is not exceptional for a doll, the creatures of obedience. Willow was chosen for one thing, and one thing only: its normality. It doesn't seem to have any of those aberrant features I've witnessed in some of my more peculiar dolls. It doesn't seem inclined to certain chores, it doesn't cling to remnants of its human personality, and its speech is entirely without quirk to differentiate it. A perfect subject which provides no confounding variables, and an easily replaceable subject should this request break it entirely. I hope Rosemary doesn't think it's being replaced.

Day 1

Willow reacted as expected. I brought it aside during the doll's morning prep, and made the importance of the task clear. For the sake of providing knowledge to its witch, it is to abstain from tea until commanded otherwise. It nodded, told me it understood, and resumed its prior duties.

All was as could be expected until the doll's tea break, that confounding ritual. It chose the seat it typically does, and politely refused any drink offered. When it explained its task, the dolls seemed apprehensive, but quickly accepted the words of their witch. Willow, at least, seemed to find stillness even without its drink. Were it not for the movement of the others, I would think there may be an error in my scrying.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The only thing that could be noteworthy is just the hints of sluggishness in Willow's work. As it still diligent, I consider this delay to be minor enough as to not be unusual for a doll.

Day 2

I have begun to notice a faltering in Willow's performance. Today, it was assigned to prepare lunch. It should be trivial for a doll to prepare a simple sandwich and deliver it to my study, especially since it has done so in the past with presentation and punctuality. Instead, it arrived four minutes late.

A further humiliation is that my reuben was served on whole wheat bread, not rye. It apologized for this mistake only when I informed it that such a mistake had been made, when good dolls are meant to be upfront of their failings. It must have not noticed its mistake at all, or had the humanity to feel shame and conceal its actions from me. Fascinating regardless.

I had Rosemary prepare me a proper replacement after the doll's tea. Speaking of, Willow seemed less still than what I could previously see. It still refused to move its body, but it was not the calm stillness dolls are known for. It seemed on-edge, its eyes tracking the movements of the other dolls as they sipped. There was a longing in its eyes; a desire good dolls ought to be without.

Day 3

Willow has stopped being able to perform most tasks at a satisfactory level. The first chore assigned to it was to clean the windows in the first floor living room. It left unacceptable streaks, and let soap trickle down onto the carpet. After this it was to sweep the kitchen, and its first instinct was to do so with the brush meant for the dishes. In light of this incapability, it has been commanded to refrain from its duties until further notice. Withholding its purpose may be a confounding variable, but I refuse to tolerate sloppy work, no matter the circumstances.

While trying to find stillness after being relieved of duty, it suddenly interrupted my work (something it should know much better than to do) to inform me it can't be trusted in the doll's quarters, especially during tea time. As such, I commanded it to stay away, and it thanked me. It seems to still have lucidity, but I sense that it understands that it somehow risks violating my orders. I have heard of no such thing. Whenever rumour spreads of a deliberately disobedient doll, know that it is never of sound mind.

Day 4

Since being asked to avoid the doll's quarters, Willow tries to find stillness in the living room. It doesn't seem to be working, as it will often seem to... wilt. It's similar to a human nodding off, only it doesn't seem to be going limp as one would from nearing sleep. It seems almost deliberate, how it will drop its curtsy for only a moment, letting its arms drop and its neck tilt before regaining its posture.

Despite my clear and defined orders, the thing defied me and tried to mop the library, something I only learned of after it had another doll report to me that the task was done. Even so, it required two hours to mop the lower library's hardwood floors. I have never recorded the times that my dolls have taken on their chores, but this strikes me as very, very unusual.

It didn't interact with the other dolls when retiring for the night. It simply marched to its bedroom, trying to find stillness above the covers with its uniform still on. It was different this time. Sometimes, at seemingly random, it would jolt itself out of stillness, as if it was a strain it couldn't take anymore. It would then resume its position as if nothing happened.

Day 5

The experiment has ended effectively immediately. Willow has assaulted Rosemary, and I am unsure of its survival.

It happened this morning. Rosemary, the poor soul, saw Willow in its worst state. It stumbled onto the floor and struggled to stand, and Rosemary quickly ran to help. It began to insist to Willow that it had to rest, and that adherence to its assignment now required it to ignore its unspoken expectation of continuing to work. This was... something I had never considered, in retrospect. Both the option, and that a doll would offer it.

Regardless, Willow quickly escalated it into an argument. It began... screaming, insisting that it was a good doll and that it could still work. Rosemary tried to disengage, but Willow grabbed it, and began to... beat it. Intensely.

I have never seen a doll commit violence. I have seen combat dolls follow the commands of their handlers, but there is no intention in its actions, merely the extension of the will of its handler. There is a disconnection, a stillness in obeying another. It was not the doll that felt the rage, the explosive need to feel a life end by your hands.

All the other dolls just... watched. I will interrogate every single one of them as to why soon.. I fear I already know the answer. They were just as confused as I was, and lacked the initiative to intervene. And, of course, the fear; so alive as to be paralyzed by it, and too constructed to be spurred into action by the feeling alone.

Rosemary is currently in my workshop. Its core is unstable but not beyond saving. Its head will need to be replaced entirely, recreated from scratch. It needs a new porcelain shell for its torso, as well as having its central clockwork touched up, with a new connective joint on its left shoulder. Months of intensive magecraft and metalwork, alone, all just to return my doll to me. Willow also needs repairs to its hands, which is currently low priority for numerous reasons.

Willow has been placed into indefinite solitary holding until it has recovered. It will be provided 3 rations of tea per day and undergo remote evaluation until it is deemed that it is not a risk to other dolls.

I shall ask the others in my coven to assert the wisdom to all who can hear. Good dolls drink tea.