Application for The Wake
Mar. 17th, 2016 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
littlestraydollPersonal Information
Name: Dragon
Age: 41
Personal Journal:dragondancer5150
Email / AIM / MSN / Plurk: dragondancer5150@yahoo.com (email and AIM), "OldMaidDragon" on Plurk
Current Character(s): N/A
Character Information
Character Name: The Knitted Doll - it doesn't technically have a name (though eventually it will take the name Xan, short for Alexander, "defender of mankind")
Fandom: Stray Souls: Dollhouse Story (a point-and-click HOS PC game. There is also a sequel, Stray Souls: Stolen Memories - the vid clip in the Network post below is from the second game, as the first has no voice-overs)
Character History:
As usual, brevity in the history section is not my forte. The history post is here.
Character Personality:
The knitted doll was forged out of a six-year-old child’s grief, horror . . . and love and concern for her brother. It was empowered by all the positive energies of her family’s mystical wielding and the good memories and experiences that filled their house. As such, the knitted doll has a child’s trusting innocence to it, though it certainly understands the ugliness of the world as well. It was created to combat evil, though it’s far from immune to dismay or fear when faced with nightmarish images or supernatural occurrences.
At heart, though, it is a protector, forged to be a sort of guardian angel – if in a rather disturbing physical form – that would ultimately save its creator’s brother. To that end, the doll is helpful and courteous, a right pleasant little fellow. It’s not aware of its creepy, grotesque appearance, or else doesn’t let that bother it. It is capable of fear, but it knew its function and did not shy from facing down the demons even at the cost of its own life. Most would say it was brave, but the knitted doll would likely be confused, stating it was only fulfilling its purpose. Though it’s “merely a construct,” it is capable of such sentient emotions as compassion and comfort, and concern for others over itself. It’s also able to make personal connections. It was primarily Danielle rather than Sam or even Kim – the human with whom it had made a close connection more so than its creator or the one it had been created to protect – that it looked to in those last moments, and despite the demons bearing down on it, even with the plastic of its eyes dripping down like tears, it was able to look at her and try to reassure her . . . and to say good-bye. It’s hard not to read a sense of grief and acceptance into the scene, but the knitted doll knew what it was doing. It wasn’t just compelled to protect the humans in the car behind it – it wanted to.
Life after that moment, however, will be much like that of a child – one of wonder and exploration as the doll gets a chance to come into its own and truly learn about and experience the world around it. Its existence before Nautilus was so brief before it died, and its life experiences were based solely on mystically-gained senses and intuition – it knew what it needed to know when it needed to know it, and it never questioned that. Such is the nature of magic and magical constructs. But still, the “life” it had was artificial and highly purpose-driven, over once it had fulfilled its very specifically set function, not truly “living” – not getting to live – as most entities get to experience it. It may be a bit baffled at a second chance at life, but it would certainly not turn down the experience, very thankful for the chance!
Powers and Abilities: The knitted doll’s powers are not well defined at all in the game. It can sense magic and mystical energies, both good and evil. It’s highly aware, able to spot things easily (it’s part of the Hint button in hidden-object scenes), plus it’s very observant and intuitive, able to sense things about an area, an event, or a situation. Or sometimes a person – it had been sent to Sam’s residence (unknown if Kim knew Danielle’s name or not ahead of time) and was able to recognize and address her by name at first sight. Likely because it was sent specifically to help her find and rescue Sam, so there was a mystical connection to her. Oddly-enough, it didn’t immediately sense the truths behind Kim (its creator), or Jimmy and the clown (the halves of the man it was created to protect) – OOC reason being that information couldn’t be revealed too soon and spoil the game…IC explanation could be that the doll’s intuitive learning is both imperfect and very focused, concentrating on what it needs to know to understand the task or event directly in front of it right in that moment. Thus, “I need the clown’s help (unspoken: therefore I need to trust it for this)” in the moment would override the more general knowledge of “The clown is evil” or “The clown is part of Sam” before that information would be available to it more directly.
Again, it tends to learn at least some things by a sort of intuition, though with only a few exceptions, that knowledge tends to be very general, especially about people, and that’s if even “learns” anything at all. For instance, at the beginning, it knew Sam’s name – unknown if it actually knew what he looked like – and that he had gone back to “the town of his childhood”, but it had been up to Danielle to know what or where that town was. In Nautilus, it would be able to sense a pervading energy and a sentience (Bending and Nautilus itself), but wouldn’t know what it was exactly or what it meant. It might be able to look at someone and sense or just intuitively “learn” about them, but it wouldn’t be anything specific and certainly nothing that’s not common knowledge anyway. For instance, looking at V, it wouldn’t know his name (not even the “V” designation), but it might (with player approval) be able to sense something like his affinity to fire, or that "V" isn't his original, given name once introduced. Things like that – again, nothing that isn’t already public knowledge and/or should get player approval first. (There is a permissions post on its journal.)
Samples
Network:
[Mismatched button eyes stare into the camera as thin, knitted-tube fingers peck at the keyboard with at least some apparent knowledge of what to do. When it speaks, its “mouth” doesn’t move, the voice just issuing forth like it has a small speaker buried in its stuffed head. It sounds like a young boy.]
Hm. I can’t tell if this thing is working or not. Oh well.
Hello. This seems to be a communication device of some kind. I can only guess that means there are others here besides me, who might receive this message. Wherever here may be exactly. Is this an afterlife of sorts? I wasn’t aware that there might be such a thing, though I have to admit I really don’t know much on the subject. I am also wondering if there’s any way to contact or at least look back into the living world. I’d really like to know if a certain family is okay, if they escaped or not. In any case, any help would be appreciated. Thank you.
Third Person:
The knitted doll landed on the passenger seat of the car with a boneless flop. Pushing into a sitting position, it heard Danielle mutter a distracted apology as she dropped her purse next to it and slid into the driver's seat.
She's never driven by herself before. Sam taught her, and he's always been with her before.
The doll didn't know how it knew that, the thoughts crossing its mind as it climbed up to sit on her purse. It just knew. From its new vantage point, it looked out the windows, trying to see the house through the pouring rain as Danielle pulled out of the driveway into the road.
This rain is dangerous. I hope she doesn't have an accident before we get there.
Wait . . . what was an accident? The doll didn't kno-Oh! Yes, it did. It was when something bad happened to someone that they didn't mean to happen. "Danielle, I know we have to hurry, but don't drive too fast. In this rain, we could end up in a ditch, or worse." The woman nodded, her gaze locked on the road ahead of them.
Feeling stifled in the silence of the car, Danielle pried one hand off the steering wheel to press and twist a knob on . . . on what? Radio . . . that's the radio. Music started playing. The doll wondered where the music came from . . . but nothing came to mind. Oh, well, it wasn't important.
There was nothing else for the doll to do for now, so it contented itself to gaze out the window, watching trees flash by in the wet darkness, the illumination of the headlights playing weirdly off the rain-slicked bark and waving leaves. They're kind of creepy-looking in this darkness. It didn't know why it thought they were creepy-looking – they just were. At least the darkness is a natural darkness. Natural? So what was an unnatural darkness?
What's waiting ahead for us.
The doll shivered, wrapping its arms around itself and hunkering down a little, pushing back on a growing dread. It could sense Danielle's fear. It was afraid too. It had only been conscious now for maybe an hour, probably not even that, and there were so many things it didn't know yet, except that there were dangers waiting for them in the town of Sam's childhood – terrible dangers. But it knew one thing. It doesn't matter what's waiting ahead for us. Danielle has to save Sam, and I have to help her. How, it didn't know, but that didn't matter – it would know when the time came.
NOTE: He's been in the game before, a few years ago, but he's coming in fresh this time.
Name: Dragon
Age: 41
Personal Journal:
dragondancer5150Email / AIM / MSN / Plurk: dragondancer5150@yahoo.com (email and AIM), "OldMaidDragon" on Plurk
Current Character(s): N/A
Character Information
Character Name: The Knitted Doll - it doesn't technically have a name (though eventually it will take the name Xan, short for Alexander, "defender of mankind")
Fandom: Stray Souls: Dollhouse Story (a point-and-click HOS PC game. There is also a sequel, Stray Souls: Stolen Memories - the vid clip in the Network post below is from the second game, as the first has no voice-overs)
Character History:
As usual, brevity in the history section is not my forte. The history post is here.
Character Personality:
The knitted doll was forged out of a six-year-old child’s grief, horror . . . and love and concern for her brother. It was empowered by all the positive energies of her family’s mystical wielding and the good memories and experiences that filled their house. As such, the knitted doll has a child’s trusting innocence to it, though it certainly understands the ugliness of the world as well. It was created to combat evil, though it’s far from immune to dismay or fear when faced with nightmarish images or supernatural occurrences.
At heart, though, it is a protector, forged to be a sort of guardian angel – if in a rather disturbing physical form – that would ultimately save its creator’s brother. To that end, the doll is helpful and courteous, a right pleasant little fellow. It’s not aware of its creepy, grotesque appearance, or else doesn’t let that bother it. It is capable of fear, but it knew its function and did not shy from facing down the demons even at the cost of its own life. Most would say it was brave, but the knitted doll would likely be confused, stating it was only fulfilling its purpose. Though it’s “merely a construct,” it is capable of such sentient emotions as compassion and comfort, and concern for others over itself. It’s also able to make personal connections. It was primarily Danielle rather than Sam or even Kim – the human with whom it had made a close connection more so than its creator or the one it had been created to protect – that it looked to in those last moments, and despite the demons bearing down on it, even with the plastic of its eyes dripping down like tears, it was able to look at her and try to reassure her . . . and to say good-bye. It’s hard not to read a sense of grief and acceptance into the scene, but the knitted doll knew what it was doing. It wasn’t just compelled to protect the humans in the car behind it – it wanted to.
Life after that moment, however, will be much like that of a child – one of wonder and exploration as the doll gets a chance to come into its own and truly learn about and experience the world around it. Its existence before Nautilus was so brief before it died, and its life experiences were based solely on mystically-gained senses and intuition – it knew what it needed to know when it needed to know it, and it never questioned that. Such is the nature of magic and magical constructs. But still, the “life” it had was artificial and highly purpose-driven, over once it had fulfilled its very specifically set function, not truly “living” – not getting to live – as most entities get to experience it. It may be a bit baffled at a second chance at life, but it would certainly not turn down the experience, very thankful for the chance!
Powers and Abilities: The knitted doll’s powers are not well defined at all in the game. It can sense magic and mystical energies, both good and evil. It’s highly aware, able to spot things easily (it’s part of the Hint button in hidden-object scenes), plus it’s very observant and intuitive, able to sense things about an area, an event, or a situation. Or sometimes a person – it had been sent to Sam’s residence (unknown if Kim knew Danielle’s name or not ahead of time) and was able to recognize and address her by name at first sight. Likely because it was sent specifically to help her find and rescue Sam, so there was a mystical connection to her. Oddly-enough, it didn’t immediately sense the truths behind Kim (its creator), or Jimmy and the clown (the halves of the man it was created to protect) – OOC reason being that information couldn’t be revealed too soon and spoil the game…IC explanation could be that the doll’s intuitive learning is both imperfect and very focused, concentrating on what it needs to know to understand the task or event directly in front of it right in that moment. Thus, “I need the clown’s help (unspoken: therefore I need to trust it for this)” in the moment would override the more general knowledge of “The clown is evil” or “The clown is part of Sam” before that information would be available to it more directly.
Again, it tends to learn at least some things by a sort of intuition, though with only a few exceptions, that knowledge tends to be very general, especially about people, and that’s if even “learns” anything at all. For instance, at the beginning, it knew Sam’s name – unknown if it actually knew what he looked like – and that he had gone back to “the town of his childhood”, but it had been up to Danielle to know what or where that town was. In Nautilus, it would be able to sense a pervading energy and a sentience (Bending and Nautilus itself), but wouldn’t know what it was exactly or what it meant. It might be able to look at someone and sense or just intuitively “learn” about them, but it wouldn’t be anything specific and certainly nothing that’s not common knowledge anyway. For instance, looking at V, it wouldn’t know his name (not even the “V” designation), but it might (with player approval) be able to sense something like his affinity to fire, or that "V" isn't his original, given name once introduced. Things like that – again, nothing that isn’t already public knowledge and/or should get player approval first. (There is a permissions post on its journal.)
Samples
Network:
[Mismatched button eyes stare into the camera as thin, knitted-tube fingers peck at the keyboard with at least some apparent knowledge of what to do. When it speaks, its “mouth” doesn’t move, the voice just issuing forth like it has a small speaker buried in its stuffed head. It sounds like a young boy.]
Hm. I can’t tell if this thing is working or not. Oh well.
Hello. This seems to be a communication device of some kind. I can only guess that means there are others here besides me, who might receive this message. Wherever here may be exactly. Is this an afterlife of sorts? I wasn’t aware that there might be such a thing, though I have to admit I really don’t know much on the subject. I am also wondering if there’s any way to contact or at least look back into the living world. I’d really like to know if a certain family is okay, if they escaped or not. In any case, any help would be appreciated. Thank you.
Third Person:
The knitted doll landed on the passenger seat of the car with a boneless flop. Pushing into a sitting position, it heard Danielle mutter a distracted apology as she dropped her purse next to it and slid into the driver's seat.
She's never driven by herself before. Sam taught her, and he's always been with her before.
The doll didn't know how it knew that, the thoughts crossing its mind as it climbed up to sit on her purse. It just knew. From its new vantage point, it looked out the windows, trying to see the house through the pouring rain as Danielle pulled out of the driveway into the road.
This rain is dangerous. I hope she doesn't have an accident before we get there.
Wait . . . what was an accident? The doll didn't kno-Oh! Yes, it did. It was when something bad happened to someone that they didn't mean to happen. "Danielle, I know we have to hurry, but don't drive too fast. In this rain, we could end up in a ditch, or worse." The woman nodded, her gaze locked on the road ahead of them.
Feeling stifled in the silence of the car, Danielle pried one hand off the steering wheel to press and twist a knob on . . . on what? Radio . . . that's the radio. Music started playing. The doll wondered where the music came from . . . but nothing came to mind. Oh, well, it wasn't important.
There was nothing else for the doll to do for now, so it contented itself to gaze out the window, watching trees flash by in the wet darkness, the illumination of the headlights playing weirdly off the rain-slicked bark and waving leaves. They're kind of creepy-looking in this darkness. It didn't know why it thought they were creepy-looking – they just were. At least the darkness is a natural darkness. Natural? So what was an unnatural darkness?
What's waiting ahead for us.
The doll shivered, wrapping its arms around itself and hunkering down a little, pushing back on a growing dread. It could sense Danielle's fear. It was afraid too. It had only been conscious now for maybe an hour, probably not even that, and there were so many things it didn't know yet, except that there were dangers waiting for them in the town of Sam's childhood – terrible dangers. But it knew one thing. It doesn't matter what's waiting ahead for us. Danielle has to save Sam, and I have to help her. How, it didn't know, but that didn't matter – it would know when the time came.
NOTE: He's been in the game before, a few years ago, but he's coming in fresh this time.
