The Yarn and the Doll

Doll scowls. This boy could be pretty dense. "Wouldn't dropping me make me more uncomfortable?" she asks, crossing her arms-- well, arm. "I need to get my arm back on before the stuffing falls out.." she says absentmindedly.

Doll tilts her head again. "Assigned by who? And you seem strong to me. What did you do to make yourself think you're weak? And, by the way, what's an angel?" she bites her lip to keep the questions in. All this new stuff was just confusing her more.

"Why do you need this for your powers? I mean, I don't need anything to see. And yet I do it, with no explanation why." she lifts the cross up gently, holding it very carefully. "It's pretty." she sets it down and looks up at him.

Doll looks up at him suspiciously, "But what if I'm not safe in your arms?" she asks, "and the stuffing falls out easy. We can always stuff it back in, but I don't like the feeling. It makes me feel empty." she shrugs. "But, without my stuffing, I would be empty, so.. Have you ever felt empty?"

"Superiors? What are those? And what makes you weaker than everyone else?" she frowns, "I think you're nice.." she blinks. "But that confuses me more!" She whines, poking his cheek. "What's an angel? What issssss it?" she draws out the words.

She looks down at the cross again. "Why were they taken away? It must have been awful." she pats his shoulder comfortingly, "and you're not very good at protecting-- not yet, at least." she nods to the arm.

Doll frowns. "What happened?" she asked, genuinely concerned. Of course, she well knew he could probably protect her, but that didn't mean she couldn't tease him. But she didn't want him feeling empty, or anyone else.

Doll blinks.. "Ladder? Ad even though they aren't a part of you, that doesn't mean you can't protect something. I can't do anything, yet I protect things." she nods gravely. "If I didn't charge, or have the thing that ran me, I would be a doll. That's what I have to protect." she nods. "And your nice, because, I do believe a lot of people in the place with all the tall buildings liked laughing and pointing. You've sown my hand back on. That makes you more than friendly."

Doll frowns again. "Have you been cracked? Do you need me to sow those cracks up?" she pulls a needle out from behind her ears and smiles, completely serious. "i mean, really, it won't be a bother! Where are they?"

"You aren't that bad, Jazaaariel." she drags his name out. "that's a nice name. I wonder what it means.." she goes silent, thinking for a moment.

Doll frowns, tugging on the ends of his hair. "Alright.." she says hesitantly, feeling him tense. She didn't want to make him angry. She didn't' want anyone angry. But that was life.

Doll blinks. "but what if you wanted to be a normal human..?" she asks, a little sad. She'd give anything to not be so.. repulsive and stitched. It made her feel out of place; especially in the crowded places. It made her feel alone.

She slips the needle back behind her ear, saddened. "Why do you help me? What can I do to help you? It's only fair, that way.. If I can't fix them with a needle, then what's there to fix it with?"

"We should find out."

The first words he spoke shocked her. She wasn't even human, she was below it. What was she then? She was already fragile and weak, at least in her own eyes. And having it told to her face stung even more.

She wanted to run away. But her feet stayed glued to the floor he had placed her on. The second words Jazariel said, they were like a giant hand smacking her. He had to help her. There wasn't any choice. So if he had the chance, would he abandon her? Of course he wouldn't.

Right?

Doll's lip quivers at his last words. "You aren't a possession! You're a person! You have no idea what it's like to actually be owned and auctioned off! You don't belong to me, you don't belong to anyone!

"You're so lucky! Look at me! I'll always be singled out as that girl with the stitches; I'll always be known as what I am; a worthless doll! And you-- you're a greater being, and still you say you're weak! You know what's weak? Having my arms ripped off when someone tries to help me! Having my hand fall off when I touch someone! I have to stick my fingers into an electrical socket just to keep on living another day, if you could call this living? What am I, then? Fragile? Weak?! That's right! That's exactly what I am! And it turns out that I'm so fit in those categories that I have to be protected by a greater being! How pitiful do you think that is?!" by now she is yelling, and pointing her not-sown-on arm accusingly at him. She looks ready to crumple into an emotional heap at any given moment.