Damien Jackson

"Your company is built on a dollhouse, and I'm supposed to respect you? Do yourself a favor and get out of my way."

0 · 164 views · located in New New York

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



Name: Damien Jackson

Age: 28 years old

Gender: Male

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual

Role: Human

Height: Measures in at 6'0" (183 cm)

Build: Muscular

Damien has many different aspects to his personality. His enemies view him as a fierce and violent man, his allies see him as a firm and inspirational leader, and the general populace views him as a champion of the everyman. At his core, he is a brilliant businessman. His ability to rile up a crowd is unrivaled, placing him at the center of multiple riots in his past. Damien has a hard time getting along with those who were born rich or come from money, because it's no secret that his rise to power is a bloody one. While he generally sends out others, he has little problem with getting his hands dirty.


From a young age, Damien has always dreamed of the big leagues. His family had been fairly normal, he was the youngest of three, with an older brother and eldest sister. Destiny had other plans for him, even at a young age, when his father was brutally murdered by the (now extinct) Red Skulls gang. Despite the reactions of the rest of his family, Damien hated his father's weakness for letting himself be killed so easily.

A few years later, he joined a gang himself. In a few short years, he shot through the ranks, but Damien's ambition remained unsatisfied. At sixteen, he murdered his gang leader, seized all of the gang's profits, and abandoned thousands of fellow gang members. It was then that he began his drug empire. Using his ability to change the faith of those who opposed him, and dispose of those who wouldn't join him, Damien became the number one Drug Lord in the city. Rumors state that he has even higher ambitions, but those closest to him are too loyal to say anything against his wishes.

Once at the top, Damien ordered a highly customized doll from Heartland Industries. He desired a cold, calculating business-driven doll of the highest caliber to assist him with his empire. They sent him Tamerah, a doll that succeeded better than his wildest dreams. His life was perfect, until he found himself starting down the business end of a barrel from Simon, his doll's assistant. Damien managed to talk him down, but has not mentioned the details of the conversation to anyone. Later that night, he ordered Tamerah to take out Simon. When she failed, Damien's hand was forced, and he killed Simon instead.

Soon after, Tamerah vanished when she was being prepared to be sent to Heartland Industries. Naturally, Damien lost his mind, and killed all his men that were watching her that night. His search for her continues, but now he has finally found a solid lead.


Likes: Power, crowds, charity, drugs, guns, strength, intimidating rich people, business, ambition, murder, loyalty, learning new things.

Dislikes: Weakness, corruption, dishonesty, torture, the word "doll", Heartland Industries, laziness, underestimating his opponents, losing Tamerah.

Secrets: Has fallen in love with Tamerah. He has been learning how to perform repairs on dolls in his spare time. Eats a balanced diet.

Fears: Tamerah's death. Simon's secrets. The concept of eternal existence after death.

Crush: Tamerah
Boyfriend/Girlfriend: N/A

Other: Has been smoking a pack of cigarettes a day since Tamerah's disappearance. Has more political pull than any law enforcement officer in New York, including the District Attorney. Has had 13 assassination attempts against him since he became the Drug Lord. He always has a pack of cigarettes and a gun with him.

Looks: Short brown hair, usually accompanied with five o'clock shadow. His outfit usually consists of muscle shirts under either a brown or black leather coat. He's rarely seen wearing body armor unless he knows bullets are headed towards him.

Distinguishing Features: Has a large tattoo on his back in Japanese Kanji: it means 'instinct'. His body is littered with scars from knife fights, bar brawls, and bullet wounds.

So begins...

Damien Jackson's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamerah Character Portrait: Damien Jackson

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#, as written by RjWaltz
Damien peered out of the window of his limo as it sped towards the ball. There were two town cars in front and two behind it, he never could be too careful. His mind was miles away, back in the depths of one of his many hideouts.

He sat in a stool at the bar, sipping on his scotch. It was a 200 year old Glen Mckenna on the rocks. The smooth texture brought him little comfort. The door adjacent to his bar burst open, and two of his men dragged a bloody mess of a man to Damien's feet. The man let out a small whimper as one of his men grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head up. Damien calmly swirled his scotch, his eyes on the amber liquid.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
The man stammered, "Y-y-y-y-yes, sir."
"Then I have a disadvantage, since I haven't a clue who you are."
"I-I-I-I-" the man was too frightened to speak.
"He works for some scumbag in the poor district. We couldn't get his employers name," his man said. Damien stood up from his bar stool, placing his glass against the bar-top. He loomed over the man, his eyes piercing into the man's soul. Damien's eyes widened, and he jammed his index finger and middle finger down the man's eye sockets. The man howled in extreme pain.
"I don't need you to see for you to answer me. I don't need you to fear the man you're protecting. I just need you to know that I will do unspeakable things to you if you don't tell me EXACTLY what I want to know," Damien hissed, "Now, who do you work for?!"
The man screamed out in pain. Fear enveloped him, so much so that he couldn't hold his secret anymore.
"T-t-Tids! His name is Tids! Please spare me!" he yelped.
Damien smiled menacingly, "I never said I would do that." He kicked the man's chest with tremendous force. With the position of his fingers, Damien's kick removed the man's face from his body. The man reeled on the ground, covering the hole in his head where the majority of his face used to be, and Damien crouched down next to him, dropping the bloody mass of bone and skin next to him. he held out his hand, and one of his men handed him a bottle of chili pepper.
"You have done well in providing this information. I expect that you'll try to get this fixed, so I have something else in mind."
Damien grabbed the man around the throat and dosed him with the chili pepper. The man began screaming bloody murder. Damien then pulled a gun off of one of his men and dropped it on the floor next to the man.
"This is your only salvation," he muttered into the man's ear. As Damien walked behind the bar to fetch a towel to clean the man's blood off of himself, the man grasped the gun as best he could, put it up to his bloodied temple, and pulled the trigger. He fell limp.
His man spoke, "Sir, we have confirmed Tids' whereabouts. It appears he is traveling to the Heartland Ball with an unknown synthetic female."
Damien smiled. He liked the word 'synthetic.' 'Doll' implied weakness, inferiority, and servitude. Traits he despised.
"Very well. Tighten up security at the decommission plant, and cleanse Tids' shop. This rat will not scurry away from me."
"Yes sir. We have recovered something else from Tids' man." He handed over a folded piece of cardboard. As Damien unfolded it, he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. On it said, One fuck with the Lords doll $30.00.
"I'm heading to the Ball now. Prepare my limo. It is a charity event, after all," Damien said through gritted teeth. He tossed the sign on the bar-top and headed out towards the car.

He snapped out of his daze as the limo pulled up to the entrance. He straightened the tie on his tuxedo, let out a sigh, and stepped out of his limo. Immediately he and his men were swarmed by dozens of reporters, all shouting questions and snapping pictures, desperate to get their private interview with the infamous Damien Jackson. His guards kept the reporters at bay while Damien walked up the steps towards the Ballroom. Before entering, he turned and faced the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a special occasion for Heartland Industries. Please try to show some class," he announced.
Without waiting for a response, he turned towards the building and entered the ballroom with his men in tow.


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.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Character Portrait: Xander Character Portrait: Adina "Adi" Character Portrait: Tamerah Character Portrait: Damien Jackson

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Xander Harrowgrove

Xander stared back at Emma; and Emma started back at Xander. To the human male, the whole room seemed to fall into stilled silence as he stared into those eyes, those eyes that were brimming with rivers of ruby blood. How can something so pure-hearted be compared to a vampire? He thought, but then quickly turned his head to watch the other doll, the oddly recognisable doll, the one that had entered the room just now, shackled like an animal! Disgusting. Who could be able to do that to a sentimental doll, a doll with feelings, a doll who looked so much like a human? Who could do that to a person? Disgusting.

Of course Xander was going to do something, though he doubted that he would have if Emma hadn't been there... Part of him knew that it was because he wanted to impress her, wanted her to stop clinging to that complete stranger she was hooked onto; the other part of him could barely stomach the situation before him, so much so that he had to do something to stop the humiliation that red-haired woman was going through, that pain... He clenched his jaw.

There were several ways to go about this, he knew, as his mathematical mind-set clicked systematically into place: firstly, he could buy the doll - money was not an option - and then put the Harrowgrove Task Force into good use by burning this man and his 'business' to the ground; secondly, he could have the Heartland Forces present nearby dispatched to remove this lunatic from the ball, and then have them take this doll into their safety... Suddenly he realised why he recognised the doll. How foolish of him! Of course! Wasn't that Damien's doll? That man had caused quite a stir in New York; who wouldn't recognise his most cherished possession? Tamerah, that was her name. Yet somehow nobody was doing anything to save her. Cowards.

Across the room, his father was watching him, knowing what he was about to do, which only spurred him on more.

Beside him his date, Clarissa, whispered and gripped his hand further: "Oh how embarrassing... I hope somebody takes her away quickly; she's ruining the evening, don't you think?" It occurred to Xander that he really, really disliked this woman, and dropped her hand without effort, turning to look at Emma one last time before acting out-

That was until another familiar figure swooped into the fray, offering the abused doll his hand. Damien.

"It appears that she is in good hands..." Xander muttered, "For now..."

His eyes met Emma's once again and they were back to the start: staring at each other in silence.


Characters Present

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

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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?"


Characters Present

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

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#, as written by Jynxii


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.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Character Portrait: Xander Character Portrait: Adina "Adi" Character Portrait: Tamerah Character Portrait: Damien Jackson

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α∂ιηα "α∂ι"

Image "Call me Emma," The lovely girl responded, answering his inquiry to her name. That name which he'd heard on plenty of girls before - human and otherwise - had a particular kind of elegance to her. He couldn't figure out the reason for it quite yet.

Still, whatever it was that gave her such an underlying interest, it didn't matter quite so much at the moment. Soon, she was whisking him away, towards the dance floor with an elegant hand. Stepping into the midst of the dancing, their bodies quickly pulled close to each other, beginning their steps along to the music at a slower pace before officially jumping in. "You're beautiful," She suddenly said, breaking their own silence while Adina had previously tried to focus on the music in the room. His eyes widened, and he almost missed a dance step, at the abrupt comment.

He opened his mouth to respond, but simply found himself staring downward, trying to hide the flush in his face and focus on where his feet were going. He shut his mouth, positive that whatever words he would have managed to get out would have been nonsensical. It was best just to hold his tongue for now, until he could think of the right words. This girl, surely she would think less of him if he started making mistakes like that. Quickly, he looked up once again, giving a shy smile, as if to quietly convey a silent thank you. It wasn't very often that he got a compliment from someone he thought he could believe. Brittany just said that kind of thing to give him a pep talk, and Evan... Adina was sure Evan hadn't said anything that nice. He hadn't even had to.

"I'm sure you will go to a wonderful owner tonight, so you shouldn't worry about that," She continued, and this time, the statement made Adina a little more solemn. At least she thought so, but a good owner for an odd doll was a tall order. The more the night continued, even though it had barely begun, he really doubted that anyone on the premises was going to want him. He kind of wished he'd been one of those mindless, stupid dolls. Then maybe he wouldn't care that his owner was dead, and that no one wanted him, and that he couldn't make a conversation as well as the next person.

He pushed his thoughts away from it though, as she spread away from him at an arm's length before her graceful form then spun back into him. Hadn't she claimed that she wasn't that good of a dancer? Well, Adina certainly believed she looked elegant, regardless. "You're so lovely, anyone who wouldn't take you is a fool," She finalized, her statement firm and solid as if she'd been stating a perfect fact. Well, then, perhaps everyone was simply a fool, and Adi doubted that to be true.

Still he gave another small, bashful smile, feeling overwhelmed by the compliment, and at least a little more cheerful that she thought something like that. It was nice to meet a person who was kind, after all.

Adi's eyes widened when another doll bumped into Emma, the jolt it caused to her body making him move as well. The other female doll hissed an agitated, "Watch it!" as she moved along. How rude, Adi thought, but had too little time to really think on the subject, as, in an instant, and with a faint click, Emma gave her own hiss to the rude doll, flashing what looked like fangs and startling the girl. Surely she deserved a start, but even Adina found himself jumping at the action, having not had the slightest idea that something like that would have happened. The owner of the rude doll made a call, probably at Emma's owner, but Adina was too distracted, staring curiously at his dancing partner while she turned back to him, offering the same sweet smile he had seen before, but instead with a sharp pair of fangs. Sort of like... what were they, what were they? Adina had seen them in movies with Darren. Those supernatural movies. The ones with fangs those were... They drank blood and had funny accents whenever it was a kid's show... Vampires!! That was it. He wasn't even aware that the corners of his mouth had tilted up into the slightest of smiles, happy that he'd found the word even if he knew he didn't have to use it. With a wink, her fangs were disappearing again, and he found himself staring even more. He knew there was something so beautifully unique about this girl.

"Don't you just love parties? That's my owner over there, Xander Harrowgrove. Isn't he handsome? Would you like to meet him? We would be saving him from his date, come. Let's go see him!" She said, and before Adina could react, she was towing him away, over to owner to be introduced. Somehow, Adi doubted the visitation of her owner would be productive, but then again, there wasn't much productive about this party at all. He almost wanted to interject, to answer her question. No, he didn't like parties, but he decided to keep it to himself. She liked them, and he remembered that giving a conflict of interest towards other people typically made them upset. He didn't want to make lovely Emma upset, not when she had such a charming smile.

"Excuse us, Xander, but, I'd love for you to meet someone. This is Adina. Isn't he lovely? He's for sale tonight." She said to the young man as she approached with Adi in tow. Adina studied the handsome young man, letting his eyes dart all along his physique, and then moving on to the young lady - his date, presumably - who was with him. Realizing that staring alone would simply make him seem like one of those mindless, dolls, though, he quickly pushed forth a polite smile at the young man, before ducking his head a little, shyly. He needn't introduce himself, after all. Emma had done it for him. What else was there to do? Both introductions were made. But there was a phrase that he could have put forth, wasn't there? Nice to meet you. Yes, that was it. He was about to open his mouth, to say the phrase, to make his presence as an actual, thinking, speaking doll known, but something caught his eye, causing his jaw to simply clench.

Emma had seen the young lady - the young doll - as well, for Adina heard her utter "Oh my god," the statement Adina understood to be a common expression for shock. He could understand the shock, most certainly. The fiery-haired girl stood in an almost translucent dress, her hair a mess and her body beaten down. She carried the dirt and grime and pain of mistreatment, and Adina could feel a choking sensation in his throat, a tightness in his gut, and a strain in his chest. Pain... He could see that look in the way she held herself, in the way she was so properly cared for. Were there... were there really people who would mistreat their doll in such a way? Hurt it and let it suffer? He could understand pain. He knew what it was like for every part of you ache and throb and feel like that piece of you could never handle movement again. Even psychological pain. But this girl could feel it so much worse. It was a different kind of pain, it was a more agonizing pain, he was sure.

He found himself staring with wide eyes, his free hand to his neck and his fingers along that scar in his neck, feeling the way the Heartland logo was bent and disfigured and the skin indented and creased with a twisted line. No kind of pain was okay. How could someone do that to their doll? It began making him even more fearful of the kind of person that might buy him. Having had only one owner, did he really even know what to expect? Who could say what other people were like? He wanted to look away, wanted to run away even. Go hide, seek comfort, but.... There wasn't anyone to comfort him, really. No one could protect him from his thoughts, and no one was going to protect him from being purchased. He needed to be bought, or he would die. But this girl... Surely heartland wouldn't allow this kind of thing at one of their prestigious parties, would they? They'd save her, they'd do something! He found himself shifting his gaze around, looking for Brittany, but he didn't spot her in that little black and silver cocktail dress. He almost wanted to panic about her not being in sight, too.

"Xander, do something," Emma pleaded with her owner. Her arms were tight around Adi's arm, and he couldn't blame her. He almost wanted to latch onto her as well, to use her as support, but decided against it. When he turned his face back to her, seeing red tears welling up in her eyes - no, not just red, they were blood - he knew she needed the support. Adina would just sink his feelings instead. He had to avoid all that business about crying, even if he wanted to, even if everything about this moment screamed at him to give up, to crawl under the earth and be dead, like his owner. No, He had to be a good doll. He couldn't ruin his makeup.

He looked to Xander, this time. No, perhaps he should be called Mr. Harrowgrove, since Adina didn't quite know this human so well. A more formal title would have to be used. The young man had dropped his hand from his date, and seemed to be ignoring her now, having little interest in her. He looked to the fire-haired girl, looked to his doll, and looked to Adina. And in those three looks, Adina could tell a lot of things. Xander Harrowgrove was a one-doll kind of guy, he didn't really care about his date, and the only reason he paid Adina any mind was because Emma's hands were on him. Her owner was about to do anything for her, and if the poor, fiery-haired girl's situation weren't causing him such worry, making him so sad, he would have smiled about the little things he could tell about Xander Harrowgrove.

Adi looked back to the girl again, though he almost didn't want to, the idea of that kind of treatment to a doll was making him sick, and felt a swift relief flood over him, watching as a man - a much kinder looking man, one who seemed to know the poor girl - swept in close to her and took up her hand. He shut his eyes, glad that someone had intervened, that someone cared.

"It appears that she is in good hands... For now..." Xander Harrowgrove's words came in a mutter, though it was indeed enough of a statement to instigate Adi opening his eyes again, trying to focus on the young man and the lovely doll he was in the presence of. He had to bring back composure, he had to focus on what was going on.

Dropping his hand from where it had been on the scar of his neck, his eyes darted back and forth from Emma and Xander. Yes, Xander was a one-doll kind of guy, and having another around was only a crowd, and possibly competition. Quickly, Adi slid his arm from Emma's grip until only their hands were touching, and turned so that he was facing her, giving her a gentle nudge of the arm to get her to turn towards him as well.

"Don't worry," He put forth, offering a sweet smile, though it seemed not to reach his eyes completely. He paused trying to pick and choose. Should he explain what not to be worried about? No, it seemed obvious, and Emma was a clever girl. She could tell what he meant. Don't worry about anything. This time, he added an extra little pause, and on purpose. He had to be sure that the thought of 'Dont worry' was complete, and that his next statement wouldn't be conveyed as a part of the last. "You have a lovely owner, Emma, and I was glad to meet both of you." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. Surely, it would make her owner Jealous for him to give her a kiss on the cheek, after all. When the action was done, he flexed his smile again, and this time, it just barely seemed as bright as it should have been, though there was still a hint of how solemn he truly felt in his eyes. He still needed to catch his breath, his thoughts, to sink all the sad feelings. No one would buy a sad doll. "I think he would like you all to himself, and I should be looking for my caretaker."

Dropping her hand, he stood for an extra second, giving a glance back at Xander Harrowgrove, before giving the young man a polite bow of the head, and a little smile before turning back to Emma and gently brushed away one of the bloodied tears with his thumb. Surely it wasn't normal to cry tears of blood, but something told him that it was just part of her design; part of the vampire thing, maybe.

"Everything is going to be okay." Adi didn't normally reiterate something. Especially not something that had been a couple of statements ago, since it had already been implied, but sometimes when people were spilling with emotions, they needed to be reassured of the same thing more than once. Or at least, that was the reason he would have said to explain why he made the statement, which was oh-so similar to the one he had made before, telling her not to worry. But really, he wasn't sure if he had only directed it at Emma. Perhaps it was directed at Xander, as well. Maybe he even wanted to say it to himself, for surely, he had been worrying all night that nothing would ever be okay. At least, he could say, that Emma was in good hands. The fire-haired girl was in good hands. And at least after this evening, he would live for another few weeks. That was more than nothing.

Offering one last parting smile, though this one had regained it's hint of solemnity, he turned from them and walked off, not heading back to his seat but trying to see if perhaps he could spot Brittany still at the bar. Surely, to anyone watching him wander, he looked lost, and certainly he was. God, the Bar would be the last place he wanted to be, but seeing as Brittany had not yet returned to the table she had seated Adina at, it was the best bet for where she would be. At the very least, looking for her gave him an excuse to wander and spy at the other patrons of the evening.