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Olive Dawn Croft

"They say I'm on 'borrowed time'... I wonder who I'm borrowing it from."

0 · 246 views · located in New New York

a character in “King of the Dolls”, as played by Jynxii

Description

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Age|
Twenty

Gender|
Female

Sexual Orientation|
Pansexual


Role|
Human #6


Height|
Five feet, six inches.

Build|
Curvy slender.


Personality|
Olive is a dreamer. Ever since she was a little girl, she's wanted to make a difference in the world. Olive is incredibly giving, and kind. When it comes to a temper; she doesn't have one, and this is both a virtue and a flaw. Over the years, she's grown a little cold to the world. Olive suffers from stage 4 aggressive cancer. Why am I putting this in her personality section? Because it has so much to do with her personality. She used to be a hot headed, brassy female, but with the recent turn of events she's had a change of heart. The Olive you'll meet today is a soft spoken woman, a gentle woman. She has decided to look at all the good in the world she can before she is ripped from it. She's a terrible liar, she wears her heart on her sleeve, and she's on borrowed time. If staring death in the face won't make you a better person, I'm not sure what will..That being said, Olive is prone to mental breakdowns. Sometimes she just wants to cry. To stop smiling, to stop pretending that everything's okay; that she's not dying. These breakdowns can lead to tears or screams, or even violence against herself, just wanting to end it. She could easily seem bipolar; rays of sunshine one day, then black depression the next.

"You always read about people who are dying saying that they don't fear death... that's bullshit. I'm terrified I'm going to die every night before I go to sleep. Do you know what it's like, laying in bed alone, in an empty house filled with memories... not knowing if you're going to see tomorrow.. Not knowing how long it'll take the neighbors to find your body..."



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History|

Olive grew up in the foster system of the South. Jumping from home to home until she was turned out at the age of eighteen. Too old to be in the system, too young to really take control of her life. She managed to graduate high school, and attend a community college. She began working in a flower shop/bakery hybrid for a place to stay in the upper apartment. When she was nineteen the old lady that owned the shops passed away, leaving Olive not only her shops, but also her hidden fortune. That same year, the cancer was discovered. Now at twenty, Olive has been put into the Make a Wish foundation. For her wish, she asked for a companion to spend the last of her days with. Heartland responded to her wish, all too willing to be seen in the public eye as a charity sympathetic company. Olive was given a pass, and the free choice of any doll she'd like.


Likes|
+ Flowers
+ Baking
+ Working for her money, despite the millions she has inherited
+ Singing "Only in the shower..."
+ Painting
+ Living a simple life

Secrets|
* She is dying of cancer. She does not advertise this, but obviously anyone at Heartland will know, due to her pass and why/how she is getting a doll.
* She is filthy rich. No one knows that the old lady left everything to her.

Dislikes|
- The idea of dying
- Real people who get too close to her. She knows she's on borrowed time.
- Having 'down' days
- Chess. "I'm just terrible at it..."
- People who pity her because of her cancer.

Fears|
! Dying. Alone, in her sleep, in a car, anywhere... but, specifically; alone.
! Heights. "If God wanted me to fly, he would have given me wings."






Crush|
"Brad Pitt. No, Johnny Depp. No, Gerard Butler.. No, oh, goodness... you really want me to list them all?"

Boyfriend/Girlfriend|
"I have cancer... is this a joke?"

Other|
As I stated in her secrets, no one knows about her cancer unless they work for Heartland. I suppose the dolls could know, since they might have heard about it, but other than that no one knows. Sure it's on the news that Heartland is giving a doll to a cancer patient, but she asked that her picture not be shown.

Distinguishing Features|
Olive has four faint scars across her chest, each in the shape of a plus sign. Furthermore, she has a small tattoo behind her right ear.





Looks| Photo Gallery
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So begins...

Olive Dawn Croft's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

#, as written by Jynxii
Olive

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“Yes, Mr. Berkly, I’ll have them ready by tomorrow. I’m sure she will love them. Yep! You, too!” With a gentle click, she returned the shop phone to it’s resting position. Mr.Berkly had gotten in deep with his wife, and was now trying to make nice with her with a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. Yellow tulips. It was sweet that he remembered such things after twenty years of marriage. Olive walked out from behind the green counter, gently pushing the white fence-like door to make way for herself. With Lady Antebellum’s song, Downtown stuck in her head, she went about the shop straightening up the flowers. The shop had been fairly busy today. She wore a simple yellow dress, with short sleeves to cover her shoulders and two handy pockets in the front. Over her dress she wore a white apron that tied around her waist that had a large pocket sewn into the front. Her chocolate colored hair was pulled up in a lose bun this afternoon, and little wisps escaped from the clip.

While humming she set about pulling out a decent length of blue ribbon from the wall of multiple rows of flower decorations. Cutting it to just the right size, she placed it between her lips and grabbed a bucket with her left hand. With her right hand now free, she walked to the front of the store and slipped outside. The pleasant sound of a bell rang around her. The shop’s bell. She smiled. Her mother had always loved that bell. “There you are..” she mumbled, locating the row of yellow tulips she had on display outside today. With a triumphant smile she began to pile the flowers one by one into the bucket, only picking the ones with the best bloom potential.

As she was busy about her work, she happened to glance up. She didn’t know what made her do so, it wasn’t as if she didn’t do this every day. She had no reason to, she just did. What she saw made her pause, bucket in one hand, flowers in the other, ribbon in her mouth. Blinking as a curious owl would, she took in the sight of a black stretch limo pulling up to her store. Just then it began to drizzle. Luckily, she was standing under the outstretched awning of the shop so she wasn’t getting wet. Loading up the rest of the tulips, she slipped back into the shop. They weren't supposed to be here yet...

From the counter she could just barely make out the men through the large bay windows in the front of the store. Every once in a while she would curiously glance up and out of the window at them. The rain was coming down harder now, in thick sheets. Raindrops raced down the panes of the windows. Are they just going to stand out there…? Feeling a twisting in her gut, she sighed. The tulip arrangement was finished, and so was her work for the week, so she placed them in the fridge and then walked to the window. The sun was setting, and it was now a downpour out there. The men stood in the rain, stone faced. Upon further inspection she realized that they each had silver hearts in their necks; they were dolls.

With a frustrated sigh, she grabbed her yellow raincoat (Yes, she knows how silly it looks on her). Opening up the shop door, she stepped outside, under the awning. The rain was blowing at such an angle that she was still getting sprayed with bits of water that clung as droplets to her hair. “Hey! You weren't supposed to be here yet,” she called “I'm not exactly dressed yet!” The men didn't budge, forcing her lip down in a scowl. “At least come out of the rain!” Again, the men stood fast. She glanced across the sidewalk at a woman that was staring oddly at her. “Take a picture!” she called to the lady, a blush blooming in her cheeks. How silly she must look, standing in the rain in a bright yellow jacket. With a frustrated sigh, she went back into the shop to change into the outfit she had planned for the ball.

By the time she was ready, the rain had let up to only a faint drizzle. Olive slipped into the limo and glared at the woman in a business suit that she found waiting for her. There was that look again, the look that says I'm-sorry-you're-dying-oh-my-god-it-must-be-so-horrible. When they arrived at Heartland they were greeted by a wave of photographers. The urge to throw herself out of the nearest window grew with every flare of the paparazzi cameras. She was arriving for the ball earlier than everyone else to select her doll. There would be a part of the ball where they would be showcased in front of everyone. Wouldn't the paparazzi just love that; the dying girl and her charity doll. A part of her felt like she should be grateful, but the other part of her just felt like she was being used as an income source.

Olive followed the woman from the limo into Heartland, away from the flashing lights of the news crew. Olive was too busy looking around to really hear anything the woman was saying. Her attention was caught by a woman walking by with an unamused doll. The two looked to be bickering back and forth, despite the woman's Heartland attire. He was perfect. "Miss? Are- are you even listening to me?" "No, I'm not. Who is that?" The woman looked appalled. Olive figured that if she didn't have cancer, the woman would probably have liked to punch her. Good. Rage was an incredible feeling, one of the best. It made you feel the raw sting of life. That is Melody, a tech here, accompanying a doll. Apparently he escaped his dressing room this morning. Needs to be reprogrammed if you ask me." "I didn't ask you. I want to meet him."

After a short exchange, Olive was led to a waiting room that looked like a living room out of a Home and Garden magazine. The room was a little cozy, she noted. "We'll have to get him dressed," they had told her. "I can wait. All I've got is time, right?" They didn't laugh, but she did. A little cancer-humor, but apparently Heartland didn't see the funny side. Olive busied herself with inspecting the large picture of a naked tree hanging on the wall. The photograph reminded her of herself. Strong, steady, rooted, and dead. A voice cleared behind her, causing her to turn. There he was. He didn't look like any doll she had ever seen.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

Isaac


“I just wanted to—“
“Wanted to what, Isaac? It doesn’t look good on me when you misbehave.” Melody wasn’t letting this one go so easily. She had him tight by the arm, and her face was rosy.
“But-“
“Quiet, Isaac. Please.” She snapped. He went silent, ducking his head slightly. He hated it when she did that. She knew exactly what to say to make him shut his trap. His expression waned dour and he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “You know better than this, Isaac. Honestly, I didn’t think you were unruly enough to run out without any pants.”
Those words were enough for his programming to accept that he was allowed to speak again. “I just wanted to know what it’s like, because you don’t tell me anything.” He said in a loud voice, speaking over her attempts to cut him off.
“There’s better ways to go about it.” She said sternly.
“I’ve been stuck in the same room for my whole life; I think I deserve a bit of freedom for once, Melody.”
“Oh shoot, when did all these people get here?” Melody mumbled, pulling on his arm to make them walk faster as they crossed through one of the main hallways.
“Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything.” Isaac shot back, even though he was quite aware that she wasn’t talking to him.
“Just be quite, Isaac, and hurry up befo-“ She began to chide before another voice cut in.

One of the officials was escorting a woman, and the woman was staring at him. ‘Who is that’ she’d asked. Isaac stared right back at her. Who was she? Melody halted as the official said her name, and narrowed his eyes with a deep frown as that woman said that he should be reprogrammed. He’d just received an order to be quiet, or he would have retorted. The other woman did so just fine though, much to his satisfaction. She wanted to meet him? Well, he could live with that. She seemed a feisty soul. He felt a shiver run up his spine as he recalled all that Adi had told him. This could be his chance to get out of here. She didn’t seem half bad. He just couldn’t mess this up.

He was pushed around a bit as everyone suddenly switched gears. “We’ll need to get him dressed” The official woman said with a pointed look at Melody. Isaac glanced down at his legs. He’d forgotten that he wasn’t wearing any pants, but the fact that had made him so shy with Adi, a peer, now made him cocky under the hand of authority. He was being autonomous. He’d chosen not to wear pants. He was different. Ha. Melody pulled him away, looking slightly surprised. He turned his head to continue looking at the woman as he was pulled away. Why him? This was his new burning question. He wanted to know. She’d not talked to him; she’d only just seen him. In his own opinion he wasn’t much to look at; any of the dolls here was likely as handsome as he especially considering that he was just a storefront model, run of the mill. He was basic, a sparring amount of art done just to show how his skin reacted to it.

“Listen close.” Mel said as they rode the elevator back up to his room. “Behave yourself. If you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything. Even if it doesn’t work out, this will be your practice run, got it. You must be polite and respectful.” She instructed him as he pulled his hoodie over his head. Another scientist joined him, the clothes he was meant to wear to the Ball in her arms. They didn’t let him do anything himself, holding him still as they pulled his outfit together on him as if he was a breathing manikin. In a matter of minutes he was standing stiffly and Mel was buttoning up his suit. He did not look amused whatsoever. Wearing the restrictive clothing was a large change from running around without pants and a loose hoodie, and he didn’t like it. He felt like he was going to be strangled if he moved just an inch wrong.

Mel proceeded to usher him back down the elevator and to the room where the woman was waiting. Olive Croft. That was the only thing Mel told him, though she apparently already knew the woman for some reason or another. Said woman was examining a picture, her back to the pair. Before Mel could say anything Isaac cleared his throat, making the woman turn. He shifted slightly, turning away from Melody so he could unbutton the heavy black jacket, loosen the tie, and breath a bit better. He stared at the woman the faintest quirks of a question on his face.

“This is Isaac.” Melody spoke up after a second, her babying voice on. He couldn’t tell if it was for his sake or the woman’s, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless. Neither of them were children, though he was only a few days old. “He a standard make. His body is a year old, and he was activated three days ago.” Melody told the woman. Then she nudged him, urging him to speak. He did not for a second, continuing to stare at her. “Why me?” He finally asked. “ Because if you think I’m going to be a complacent little servant you’d be best suited elsewhere.” His voice was perfectly polite, and there was no steel in his expression, he looked as morosely serious as ever. It would be better to let her know now rather than let her take him home then send him right back, right? Melody made a sharp sound of annoyance from right behind him, but he ignored her, still focused on the woman before him.

“Isaac, you will behave.” She hissed. “She let out a bit of strained laughter towards the customer. “He’s not usually like this; he’s just a bit restless today.” She explained, as if that would heal the situation.

The trigger caused Isaac’s mouth to snap shut, but he still had that slightly challenging, intense gaze directed at the woman before him. He would pay no mind of Melody. She didn’t know what it was like. She would never know what it was like to be a doll. He would rather ruin his chances with someone who would try and rule over him than live a silent, miserable, subservient life. He wanted to live, to experience life, but not if he was quashed in the process.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

#, as written by Jynxii
Olive

Image


Olive's eyes searched over the doll in front of her as his keeper, 'Melody', according to her name tag, introduced him. Isaac. A biblical name. “He's a standard make. His body is a year old, and he was activated three days ago.” Olive absorbed the information, marveling at the science behind it all. Only a year old; and yet here stood a full grown man. Magical.. and yet, science could breathe life into inanimate objects and do nothing to save her own. A flicker of sadness washed over her hues as she watched Melody gently nudge her project. "Why me," he all but blurted, causing a small, knowing smile to settle on Olive's lips. She had asked herself that question countless times when she was diagnosed with cancer. It didn't seem like such a hard question to answer, and yet no one seemed to have one.

“Because if you think I’m going to be a complacent little servant you’d be best suited elsewhere.” He wasn't rude about it, but his face was stern. Olive smiled a little more, reminded of a three-year-old. So young, and so ready to take on the world. “Isaac, you will behave,” Melody hissed, and then added to Olive, "He’s not usually like this; he’s just a bit restless today.” Olive glanced between the two of them, "Would it be alright if I had a moment alone with you?" Her blue orbs looked onto Isaac, ignoring his keeper. Trusting that he would either ask Melody to leave, or that Melody would realize she was being dismissed, Olive turned and took a seat on the long couch beside the large windows.

After Melody had excused herself Olive gently touched the empty seat beside her. "Sit with me?" She turned her attention to the male doll, examining him carefully as he moved and reacted. Obviously there was some sort of thought process going on behind those hues of his, as she had witnessed earlier with Melody in the room. "My name is Olive. I'm sure they already told you that," she began, ignoring his question and statement for now. "Have they told you why I'm here? No? Well. We'll get back to that, then. In regard to your question... Why you?" A smile toyed with her lips again, a kind, tired smile. "I'll be honest with you, Isaac, I've never had a doll before so you'll have to learn with me I suppose. Are you not suppose to try and win me over? Not the other way around?"

There was a small twinkle in her eye, something hidden and playing behind the walls of her blue depths. "Truth is, I've chosen you at random, because I believe in fate. As to being a... how did you put it? 'Complacent little servant'? Well, I'll have you know I am capable of driving through McDonalds myself." Her smile bloomed into a grin as she added, "I'm not dead just yet." Her smile slowly melted away, as she added, "Of course, that is to say, that once I am... everything I own will go to you. It's not a small responsibility. I have a flower shop, and a bakery, and I will expect you to be able to run both of them before I leave. I'm afraid that there isn't much time for me to teach you everything you'll need to know.."

She trailed off, beginning to look very sad. "I chose you, Isaac, because I saw in you something that I don't see in the, how did she put it? 'Standard make' dolls. Believe me, I've seen plenty of them, and I'm not interested. Of course, I did choose you at random so for all I know you could be just as dreadfully boring and brainless... Tell me, Isaac.. are you boring and brainless?" The smile that had once again found it's way onto her features suggested she already knew the answer.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

Isaac

The woman smiled a bit more at his warning. Then she spoke, in an almost cryptic manner. The gist of it was that she wanted Mel to leave. Isaac shot his keeper a look, and she gave him a look with slightly narrowed eyes. He gave her a faint wave as she nodded silently to the woman, Olive, and turned to leave. Isaac's eyes then turned back to the prospective buyer, his interest piqued. The gesture had promised that there would be interesting answers to follow, and there was nothing Isaac liked better than riveting answers. He examined her inquisitively as she turned and took a seat. Then he heard the faint click as the lock of the door bounced off the jamb, not quite closed but not open either.

As if she'd been waiting for that tell-tale sound, Olive spoke, motioning delicately at the seat beside her. Isaac regarded her for a moment, a slight tone of caution colouring his movements. He moved slowly with a fledgling grace that was slowly becoming second nature. He was still curious as to what she wanted with him and why she'd been so apparently amused by his words. He sat down, turning his body slightly to face her and resting one arm on the back of the chair, the position he naturally fell into when seated. Now that Mel was gone he began to toy with his tie, loosening it more so he could actually breath. His eyes slowly wandered back up to her face in a measured, deliberate manner. Then she spoke.

At first she was just stating the obvious, her name, et cetera, but there was something curious to the way she spoke. The tiredness in her eyes. It was foreboding. He shook his head slowly, though she already seemed to know the answer to her question. Then she wrapped around back to his question. She only had a cryptic sort of answer, however, nothing that explained anything. "Well, they never said they made me conventional." he responded offhandedly. His eyes wandered away from her face, but he continued to listen with his head tipped ever so lightly to one side, one hand fidgeting with his collar still.

Random. Huh. He couldn't decide if he liked that idea or not. He didn't believe in fate or destiny. He was a doll, he wasn't run by those things. He was run by binary codes and a structured semblance of randomized autonomy. Harnessed chaos. But he wouldn't argue that point. He liked her alright, so if she wanted to play pretend it was fine with him. He stared at the floor, the stillness of his body showing that he was still listening. He lifted his head up when she made a most foreboding comment though. Not dead yet? What did that mean? He lifted his head up slowly, turning his gaze to her again. there was still a twinkle in her eye, but it was subdued. For the moment. Everything would go to him? The male doll swallowed slowly, trying to process her words. Dolls typically didn't count for inheritance because they were merely property in the hierarchy of life. He opened his mouth to comment, but the sadness in her face stayed his tongue for a moment.

His head tipped to one side slightly further, adding a slightly owlish curiosity to his searching expression. The question she left off with made him thin his lips with appreciation. She was strong. And obviously she had her wits about her, though he was quite curious about these enigmas she'd just crafted about herself. "I'd hope not, " He said, his voice little louder than a reflective murmur. "That's be a horribly boring existence." His eyes flicked across her smile, and he lifted his features into the faint curve of a smile as well for a few seconds. Then back to business. He had questions, and naturally he craved answers.

"You said... are you dying?" His voice was calm, as was his face, but his thoughts were not. The strained pauses between words were enough to show that. He struggled for words after a second, his thoughts on Adi. He couldn't say for sure, but it sounded like Adi's previous owner had either died or been severely injured. And Adi didn't seem too happy. But that had been a different kind of termination. One that had left Adi with scars. live didn't look to be wounded any way. Nor did she look particularly sick. "Why?" He managed to get out, not nearly as eloquently as he could have wished. On an instinct he reached out for her hand, not particularly to comfort her, more because he just needed something to hold onto while he processed this new understanding. He'd contemplated being terminated before, but never had he been in such close quarters with the very real concept of death. And Adi had gotten him in the habit of taking comfort from hand holding.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

#, as written by Jynxii
Olive

Image


Olive remained calm as the doll reached over and took her hand. An interesting reaction, but perhaps he was programmed to be compassionate. He wanted to know why she was dying. She laughed a little, at his innocence and at the irony of his question. The one question that every cancer patient asks themselves, every morning. 'Why?' "Because I have cancer," she answered calmly, after her smile had faded away. "I've been given the choice of any doll I'd like here at Heartland, and I've chosen you." She let that sink in for a moment as she watched his reactions. "I know it's not exactly the dream job, but... what do you say? After all, I might kick off in the middle of the night, who knows? Then you'd be home free to do as you please. Taboo, they say, but who cares. As long as you take care of my shops, I won't haunt you and you'll be the first freed doll."

She didn't care if Heartland was listening in or not. She had cancer, and she was dying. She had no fear of the law, or Heartland, or anything anymore... anything, that is, but spiders and other assorted terrors of their kind. "What do you say?"



Ooc: Short post x.x Sorry!

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

Isaac

Isaac did not look at the woman as she spoke but at her hand, eyelids lowered, as he listened. Cancer. Another thing he didn't know but his brain still somehow found among the creases. Cancer was a terminal disease. No sure cure. Just the sound of it was supposed to make him feel fear. Her laughter after he'd made the inquiry mixed with this new understanding left a bad, very confused taste in his mouth. She had accepted her 'fate', and he didn't know quite what to make of it. So he just looked at her hand, which was laced with his. Human and doll. Dying and never alive to begin with. Then he looked up very slowly a a long paused drowned out her voice. His eyes were quite alert and alive while the rest of him was near completely still, and they flicked to her, all the questions in his mind racing across his dark, reflective eyes.

Her continued words brought him to another thought, one both bitter and sweet. Freedom. The mere concept alone excited and frightened him to no end, but linking it to this woman's death made it all the more chilling. He wouldn't wish death on anyone for his own gain, that was a terrible line of thought. Nobody deserved to die, or be terminated, shut down, and cut off. So he wasn't quite sure what to make of this offer. It was even odd that she made it like an offer, he really had no choice in the matter at all, but then again, perhaps it was by his doing, for being so outspoken right off the bat. But that didn't bother him, that was how he was, and it had worked out alright.

He examined her face for a second, biting the inside of his lip, contemplating her question. "I say that if you're set then I'm not going to argue." He blinked at her, his expression growing less sad for a moment. But then he bit his lip again, this time the white of his teeth showing over his bottom lip. He should probably tell her about his programming, though he couldn't explain it from a technical standpoint. He liked her quite well, admittedly, otherwise he'd have just stayed quiet. But this woman deserved to know. And then if she didn't want him that was fine. He could deal with that. he'd wish her all the best because she was obviously intelligent and strong, and he respected that. She knew what she wanted, and she accepted who she was. If only he could be that way.

"I..." He began after a second, but his voice failed. He tried again after a second, the expression on his face showing blatantly that he was breaching a topic that was very painful for him. "I should warn you. They...I-uh, they messed up when they programed me." His eyes had fallen to her hand again, but he looked up as he spoke again, releasing her hand and folding both of his together, "I-there are pieces missing." He lifted one hand to gesture at his chest and then at his forehead. "And...um...Mel will probably tell you, but I've got a lot of trigger words. To make me shut up and all that." He was not nearly as cool and composed as he'd been before, now he was completely stumbling over his words, trying to express the difficulties he'd encountered in his first moments of life, and dealt with from that instant onwards. "Just to let you know." He added, folding his hands again and looking at the floor. "I'm not a very good doll." He cut a sideways look at the woman and gave a little shrug in a 'what can you do' sort of manner, though he didn't feel that way at all. The deficiencies grated harshly at him, and he was more than a little bitter about it. And she had a right to know that he was lacking in the personality and smoothness of operation categories.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

0.00 INK

#, as written by Jynxii
Olive

Image


Olive watched him as he watched her, seemingly thinking her question over. . "I say that if you're set then I'm not going to argue," he said at last, with a bite of his lip. She had to admit, he looked incredibly adorable. ”I…” He seemed to fade off, not knowing what to say, or perhaps choked by some unknown worry. Regardless of his reason, this time it was her turn to offer comfort. She gingerly gave his hand a little comforting squeeze."I should warn you. They...I-uh, they messed up when they programed me." She frowned a little, wondering what he could mean as she watched the doll grow ever more uncomfortable. He seemed to withdraw into himself, even pulling his hand away to hold his own. "I-there are pieces missing…and, um… Mel will probably tell you, but I've got a lot of trigger words. To make me shut up and all that."

Olive watched quietly as his confidence began to deflate like a forgotten party balloon. His once smooth tone was now broken and choppy, as if he were fighting some inner battle over admitting his faults. "Just to let you know…. I’m not a very good doll.” So, even dolls who were the physical embodiment of perfection were afraid of rejection, of not being enough. The irony of it all made her smile a little. “You mean you’re not perfect,” she said with a smile, reaching over to gently place a hand on his back. She ran her palm tenderly up and down his spine, like her mother used to do when she was sick. “Well, I guess we’re two peas in a pod then, hm? I’m just as genetically broken as you say you are, only, I have too many pieces. All scattered about in my body, and multiplying every day.”

Olive smiled at him and stood up, holding out her hand for him to take it and join her. “So I guess we will make the perfect pair. You’re not a good doll, and I’m not a good human. Neither of us asked to be this way, and yet here we are. You’re perfect, and I’ll take you.” As if on cue, Mel came back into the room announcing that the ball had started. Splendid. People. Oh joy. “Time to face the music, I guess,” she said with a playful shrug, pulling Isaac up from the couch. “Just to warn you, I’m a terrible dancer—but that’s not going to stop me from making a fool out of you!”




The ball was breathtakingly beautiful, enough to bring a smile to even a dead girl’s lips. After giving a short speech about her cancer, and Heartland’s charity, and how the money of the night will go to help her, and others like her, Olive was free to let Isaac whisk her away into the crowd of people. “Well, I’ll give them this—they sure know how to throw a party…” Olive looked over to him with a devious grin, and started to lead him to the dance floor when a stabbing pain stopped her in her tracks. She winced, hand tightening onto his as she froze. Hundreds of colorful dresses flashed in and out of her view as people walked around them. None of them had time for a dead girl. They were too rich, too happy, too alive.

She reached out with her other hand, grabbing Isaac’s shoulder to steady herself. She felt dizzy all of the sudden. Then, as if it had never happened, the pain was gone. She let out a shaky sigh and smiled weakly up at him. “I think I could use a drink. Tell you what. I will be sitting over there,” she nodded to the row of large red leather couches, each tucked into their own cubbyhole make-shift room of curtains, “you go get a glass of water for me, and anything you’d like from the bar.” She was still a little unsteady, but she released his hand anyway and gave him a brave smile and a curt nod before turning on her heel to make a b-line for the couch. The room was going topsy-turvy again. It was going to be a long night.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Tamerah Character Portrait: Damien Jackson

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#, as written by RjWaltz
Damien swung open the double doors to the ballroom, and he could feel the eyes of the rich and famous on him, while the camera flashed behind him. He and his entourage were, if only for a split second, center stage. Then, almost as quickly, everyone continued what they were doing. After all, Damien knew the names of everyone there with deep pockets. Over two thirds of them were clients of his, and he made it a point to know his clients. He glanced over the party in progress and smiled wide, his eyes darting over the large selection of 'dolls' for sale and auction. None of them seemed to jump out at him, but he knew what types the Heartland Industries would wheel out to this event. Damien had no use for synthetics with such limited functionality. With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved a glass of champagne and signaled his men to disperse into the party. They had their orders, after all.

Damien greeted a few of his clients, smiling and shaking hands. He mused over the small talk, answered vaguely when asked why he wasn't running for Congress. Basic interaction. His mind was clearly elsewhere, but he always had time to accept a cigar and light from his clients. After they passed on to the next group, one of his men approached him.
"Sir, we have her location," he announced.
"Good, I will be there shortly," he sighed.
"Understood," he said. Damien's man returned to the crowd. He let out a sigh, and downed the rest of his champagne in one shot. He absentmindedly placed his empty glass on a waiter's tray as the waiter passed by. The room became more lively as hipper dance music started up, but Damien didn't have a dance partner this evening. Normally at these events, he would be dancing with Tamerah. In fact, everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her. No, he couldn't be distracted tonight. This night was much too important. He followed his man over to a red couch in the distance.
"Oh my," Damien said, "You're here on the couch instead of dancing at your party?" He smiled at Olive, his tuxedo gleaming in the ballroom light.
He continued, "Not that I blame you. I get so sick of these parties, sometimes. The people are too self absorbed, too careless. There's me calling the kettle black, I'm sorry. I'm Damien Jackson."
Damien held out his hand as a form of greeting to her, unsure of whether or not she would shake it. His eyes met hers, and his starling blue orbs seemed to spark alive, almost as if they were looking into her soul with their intensity. A smirk crawled across his lips.
"Hey, listen. My friends are here, and they seem to be waving me over," he motioned towards his entourage, who were desperately trying to get his attention across the room.
"Here, I have a gift for you," he reached deep into his tuxedo, and pulled out a sealed envelope. After handing it to her, he politely excused himself and headed towards his men.
"Could you guys be any more rude?" He glared at them. One of his men pointed into the crowd. Damien followed his finger with his gaze, and where it landed caused his heart to skip a few beats. Time stood still as his gaze met a disheveled synthetic with matted hair and cheap makeup. There was a weasel of a man beside her, dancing around like a lunatic. It looked like the two were here on accident, or perhaps sneaked their way in.
Damien's legs moved on their own, and he even stepped between a dancing couple as he walked across the dance floor in his daze. They shouted angrily at him, but he didn't care. The crowd separated around him, mostly out of fear, and before long, he and the synthetic he approached were completely encircled. Even the weasel man shrank back. All sense of doubt left Damien's mind, in the moment where time stood still.
"Excuse me," he said, "Would you care to dance?" He held out his hand to her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac Character Portrait: Damien Jackson

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Isaac

The woman reached over and put a hand on his back. Not a guiding touch, not a instructional touch, but a comforting touch. His first from a human. She spoke gently. Not perfect. But wasn't he supposed to be perfect? Dolls were meant to be nothing less than perfect because there were programmed that way. But she seemed okay with his not being perfect, and Isaac found himself relieved by that. he hadn't even realized how much stress he'd built up worrying about that. Her hand moved, rubbing his back, and he closed his eyes for a second. He turned and looked at her as she spoke again. Too many pieces and not enough. It was strange to think of it that way, but it worked. He straightened slightly, taking her hand again as she offered it. The faintest of quirks in the corner of his mouth denoted a smile as he stood, straightening his jacket with his free hand. She continued speaking as he straightened his appearance. He chewed on the inside of his lip, coping with his delight. To be wanted. He hadn't realized what a lovely feeling it would be. Perhaps it was in his programming, perhaps it was something else, it didn't matter right now. He could be happy for a little while.

Mel must have been sitting outside, waiting, because a few seconds after Olive's last words she reentered the room, a genial smile on her face. She announced that the Ball was beginning, staring at Issac. He dipped his head slightly in thanks, and she blinked at him. Olive then tugged him along, a measure of playfulness in her action. "Not if I make a fool of you first!" He responded, following after her and allowing his mood to lighten. The heavy moment was over. A new chapter had begun, a mere three days since his birth.

The people were overwhelming. Isaac had never seen so many people, dolls and humans alike, in one place. He could barely comprehend it. It was a good thing he had to sit and wait for Olive to finish making some sort of speech about a plethora of cancer related things, otherwise he would have never been able to gather his bearing and wits in this place. She had a grin on her face, she seemed to be enjoying herself, as she returned. He rose, taking her arm, and she tugged him into the massive throng of people. He'd just opened his mouth to respond to her comment when she froze, her fingers tightening around his. He froze as well, concern on his face as he looked at her. There was an expression of pain on her features. He didn't know what to do in this situation. But she seemed to recover, holding on to his shoulder with her other hand as if to steady herself. He put an arm around her waist, just in case she was about to fall. He received a wobbly smile and a sigh, along with a request for a drink. Then she started off towards the chairs off on the wall. He gave her a troubled look as she pulled away, but he let her go. She offered a brave smile that he didn't quite believe, before moving a bit tentatively towards the seats. He stood and made sure she'd sat down before heading off to search for the drinks.

Once he retrieved the water, nothing for himself, though she'd said he could get something, he began to make his way back towards Olive. Ah, there she was. He moved in between the people, cutting through a group in an attempt to make a shortcut, to little avail. As he neared, a man approached Olive, and appeared to talk to her for a few moments before handing her something and walking away.

"Who was that?" He asked as he finally managed to return to her side, holding the water out to er and staring after the guy. It appeared that he'd given her a letter, or at the very least something in an envelope. As he disappeared into the crowd he turned his eyes to her, traces of worry in his eyes. "Are you alright? Do you need anything else?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac Character Portrait: Damien Jackson

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#, as written by Jynxii
Olive

Image


Olive was just recovering from her episode when a tall, handsome man walked up to her. "Oh my," the stranger purred, "You're here on the couch instead of dancing at your party?" He smiled at her, and she had to admit that he looked breathtaking. Was he a doll? Surely God stopped making men this gorgeous once he taught humans to do it. "Not that I blame you," he was saying, "I get so sick of these parties, sometimes. The people are too self absorbed, too careless. There's me calling the kettle black, I'm sorry. I'm Damien Jackson." Olive let a smile toy with her lips, only briefly. "Then you already know who I am, just as you know this party wasn't for me. It was for their," she paused to gesture at the ballroom full of beautiful dolls and rich owners, "benefit." He seemed amused, and casually shifted his weight as he began to speak again, this time offering his hand out to hers.

Without hesitating, Olive reached out and gave him a firm handshake. Even though she was seated, and he was standing, she still felt as though she were in control of the conversation. A smirk slowly pulled his features into an even more handsome taunt. Something about him was so dominate, so in control, just being around him made her feel more powerful. More in control, of herself if nothing else. As she stared up into his dazzling blue hues, she couldn't help but wonder just who this handsome stranger was. She was just about to tell him that he better hurry off before she turned into a pumpkin when he broke the pregnant pause of silence. "Hey, listen. My friends are here, and they seem to be waving me over," he motioned towards a large group of people, who seemed to be desperately trying to catch his eye from across the floor. "Better not keep them waiting, then," she responded coolly, with a small smirk of her own.

"Here, I have a gift for you," he announced as he reached into his tuxedo, and pulled out a sealed envelope. She felt her brows knit together as she took the offering and when she went to look up to him, to ask what it was; he was already striding across the room. Everyone's eyes seemed to follow him as he went, as if he had a magnetic pull about him. Perhaps he did. Olive's thoughts were pulled from him as her doll returned, looking concerned and confused as he held out the glass of ice water. "Who was that?" Olive smiled a little as Isaac looked after the man who had walked away, just as she had. When he turned his gaze back to her, there was something different in his handsome gaze. Worry, perhaps? Yes. She knew that look well, and sure enough within seconds he asked; "Are you alright? Do you need anything else?" " I'm alright, thank you, Isaac. As to who that man was, his name is Damien. Damien Jackson, and I have no idea who he is. He was certainly handsome, though," she replied quietly, almost muttering the last half. She gingerly opened the envelope and peered inside, finding a letter with elegant hand writing.

It was from him, but there was no surprise there. It asked her to meet him later, privately for a chat. She frowned slightly and handed the letter over to Isaac. "He wants to meet with me later. If he thinks I'll be doing so without you, he's certainly mistaken. My mother taught me never to take candy from strangers." She smiled over at Isaac, hoping he would catch the joke but as always he seemed stone faced. " Do you recognize anyone here, Isaac? Anyone famous, or perhaps, a doll you might know? I'm not familiar with the workings of Heartland, so, you'll have to humor me." She smiled up at him and gently pat the seat next to her, signalling for him to join her. "Your life with me will not be this glamorous," she said quietly to him, almost sadly. "I hope that will be alright... Though, I must say, you look wonderful all dressed up," she cooed affectionately, reaching over to tenderly fix his suit.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Olive Dawn Croft Character Portrait: Isaac

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Isaac


Olive reassured him that she was fine, then they both turned their attention to the envelope. Damien Jackson. He had no clue who that was, but then again, he wasn't very well versed in who was who anyway, since he hadn't spent but a few hours now outside the silent confines of Heartland's scientific jail. The only person he would have had any chance of knowing was Adina, but even with a few scans of the crowd he hadn't spotted the pretty doll yet. Perhaps it was for the best? Maybe Adi would always remain an elusive advice giver, some almost fantasy that reminded him of that very fine line between alive and dead. He couldn't help but want to see the doll though, putting aside such romantic concepts. He received the letter from Olive and scanned through the well crafted script quickly. His mouth thinned to a line as distrust welled in his system. Perhaps it was some instinct hardwired deep in his electrical soul, but he didn't want to let Olive out of his sight under such questionable circumstances.

It seemed that she shared his mindset, and he nodded silently in agreement. He would accompany her. It might not do them any good, but at least it would bring him solace. She smiled at him, and he blinked back at her, warming a little, though his thoughts were still stony as he thought about what exactly this Damien guy wanted from her. While he was still relatively innocent, there were some things he had learned, and those were enough to make him distrustful of leaving Olive alone with anyone. Let alone a man.

He blinked at her again as she continued, asking him if he recognized anyone. He sat down next to her, as she motioned, and made a small shrug. "Don't worry, I'm new here too. Nobody rings a bell for me. They all kind of look the same, actually." He squinted a bit at all the chiffon-dressed ladies and tuxedo-ed men as if to try and discern them from each other. It was quite impossible. All the faces blended into each other like a great mass of perfume and caked-on beauty. At some points it was difficult to tell the two different types of synthetic appeal apart, those with faces built to be beautiful, and those who had carefully sculpted theirs with products and methods. Not like he was one to talk. He looked just as generically handsome as any other male doll on the market, but a bit more morose and brooding than most. And a tad bit older than most. It seemed that most people preferred their dolls fresh faced, despite what age the owner in question was. Well, hypothetically, all the dolls here save for those programmed with the memories of another were technically children, though children with minds incredibly adept at processing information.

He examined the woman as she spoke again, a hint of sadness in her voice. Not a glamorous life? Well, how could that bother him. It would be all he knew, so it wasn't like he could long for anything. And she was most likely better than most of these fools here, who would treat him like a little lap dog and bark orders at him all the time. She reached out and straightened his jacket, and he lifted his hand to take hers. "I don't mind." His face ghosted with a smile for a moment before he fell back into more serious thinking. "I don't think I would enjoy this "glamour" all that much anyway. It seems tedious."

He swept his eyes out over the crowd again thoughtfully, and wondered what would happen to Adina. What kind of life did Adi want? What kind of life had he possessed? Would he get it back. Isaac had made up his mind to be happy for the time being, and he hoped Adi would be happy too.