[dilly.]

possible ref!



slow reader
calligraphy thing, / writes in a style that not many understand that helps him read faster

[Liliette]

Dropping out cause my life sucks

[Rooster Cult]

This guy has always been a dreamie
If I have time I will complete my form

Username:
Doll Name:
Shadow Name:
How did the doll lose his arm?:

[houndpine]

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━━━ ｗｉｔｈ ━━━━━━

username;; draumr
hi! i've been an avid fan of the dollhouse
for almost a year now, and have won one
doll, a runner-up to the winter event. i
don't technically own one yet, as it has
yet to be created. i love this doll for
the beautiful color scheme and its quirks.

doll name;; theodore ulysses black
he prefers theo, as it's more informal.
his friends often call him tub as a joke.
when 'working', he uses various different aliases.

theodore is a name meaning "god's gift".
ulysses is a variant of the greek odysseus
possibly meaning 'wrathful'.

doll gender;; cisgender male
theo is biologically male and
usually identifies as such, though
he doesn't particularly care about pronouns.

shadow name;; quark
quark cannot- or will not- speak,
so theo named them quark because
he loved the word. the shadow
seems to enjoy it.

shadow gender;; genderless/androgynous
quark has no biological gender
and is referred to as various different
pronouns, depending on the person.
tho usually uses they/them/their.

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Theo may seem like a mere prankster to his friends and acquaintances, but they don't know the full extent of his mischief. They are often suspicious, of course, when he disappears in the night for hours or even days at a time, returning with new clothes and a fat wad of money in his pocket, often accompanied by small chips and flaws in his paint. They've learned not to ask where he's been or why, as he answers merely with a trademark dazzling grin and some fantastical story about fighting a dragon or becoming a pirate. So instead they just watch as Quark helps him paint over the chips on his face, as his mood stays carefree and cheerful for a few weeks before he begins to acquire a restless air, like a panther pacing to and fro in a gilded cage.

The truth is, Theo is many things. He is a gambler, a thief, a con man; he is a liar. Every month or so, he'll show up in a new place, clad in dashing clothes, cocky smirk pasted across his face, Quark bleeding ink onto his shoulder. Theo is charming and manipulative; he knows just how to earn enough trust that no one will be watching for his sleights of hand or casual probing into details about security and valuables. And he knows exactly when to disappear, just when others begin to realize the boy with pale hair and snake eyes might just be responsible for raking in all their money at the poker table and for the hollowed center of their safes.

The doll learned many of these skills from his father; but his father never told him not to return to a place he previously struck, or to give out his real name. So when Theo first began his double life, he told everyone he was Theodore, but preferred Theo, and then he returned two months later to the first area he struck.

He didn't come home for weeks.



it had barely been five minutes in the vaguely familiar casino before i could feel that something was wrong. quark whimpered softly beside me, his dark gel quivering slightly. i couldn't restrain a shudder myself, the back of my neck prickling with the sudden sense that unfriendly eyes were watching me.

trying to appear unruffled, i flashed a half-hearted grin to the table and absentmindedly raised. quark suddenly squawked a warning just before large hands, their paint scuffed and chipped, landed on my shoulders and spun me around while pulling me up out of my chair. a large doll stood in front of me, narrowed eyes glaring into mine.

"oh, hey there, jack. fancy seeing you again!" i said, mustering a sheepish smile which he did not respond to, merely shoving me through the crowds and out the doors, quark nervously gibbering on my shoulder, melting down onto my arm in long inky drips. jack kept one hand on my shoulder the whole time, the other prodding the small of my back with something that felt suspiciously sharp. despite the danger of the situation, i couldn't help hoping that he wasn't ruining my vest.

when we reached outside, i blinked in the harsh glare of the neon lights in the quickly falling dusk.

"now, jack, i'm sure we can sort this out like gentlemen," i tried to reason as he pushed me down an alley. briefly considering running, i decided against it as i realized jack was likely a much faster runner than me and that i had no idea where to go without consulting a map.

he didn't reply, and i felt my stomach drop as i recognized the hulking silhouettes of three other dolls waiting at the dimly lit end of the brick alley.

"ah, a welcoming committee!" i said for some reason, as though jokes would help me now. one of the thugs snorted like a pig- i involuntarily grimaced- before jack shoved me into the throng. strong hands immediately grabbed my arms again, slamming me against the rough bricks. the breath was expelled from my lungs forcefully, the back of my head bouncing and somehow not cracking.

"did you really think you could show up here again?" someone said scornfully. "after you cheated us and stole from us?"

i merely wheezed embarrassingly, my breath not returned enough to make a snarky response. quark yowled angrily from the top of my head, and i smiled weakly at his defiance.

"what do you think we should do to teach this boy a lesson?" jack asked his fellows playfully. i bristled at the 'boy' jab, but my last scraps of self-preservation kept my mouth shut, hoping my 'lesson' would be mild and then i could get the heck outta dodge.

one of the doll's eyes drifted across my body, coming to rest on my right hand, which for some reason was still clutching a few chips. he grinned, but it was not a smile of mirth or happiness. it was predatory.

"hey boys, whattaya think about taking what he used to cheat and steal from us?" he said gleefully, grabbing my right arm and holding it up, sending the poker chips rattling to the ground like bones.

i made some guttural noise in my throat, jerking my arm away frantically, a primal fear sinking into my stomach and clouding my mind. quark hissed, but refrained from lashing out, as his blobby status meant it would do no good.

jack's cold eyes focused on me again and a cruel smile carved his face in two, his eyes hooded with shadow.

"i like it."

before i could fully register his dooming words, hands grabbed my arm while bodies pinned me helplessly against the wall, like a pinned butterfly, its wings about to be torn off. a strange shriek rose in my throat as i struggled to no avail and jack laid his cold hands on my forearm, rolling up the sleeve to just above my elbow. quark was making nearly the same noise, anxiously swarming around my head and shoulders.

then, with a sudden twist and jerk, jack broke my arm.

it shattered just above the elbow with a terrible pain that consumed my body and mind, setting every nerve alight with fire and forcing an animalistic scream out of my raw throat. i vaguely registered jack dropping my arm onto the brick and the other dolls laughing cruelly and releasing me to collapse onto the dirty ground, my scream fading to a whine that trailed brokenly in the night air.

i lost consciousness as they left me huddled at the back of the alley, quark making frantic whimpers as he raced back and forth from the mutilated end of my arm to my face, trying to comfort me as he always did.


when i returned to the dollhouse two weeks later, sleeve tied up over my stump, i refused to tell anyone what really happened, instead flashing them a smile and telling some ridiculous story.

no one asks anymore, and i don't tell them that sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night feeling jack's cold grip on my arm again.

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theo

- charming
- confident
- cheerful
- optimistic
- manipulative
- intelligent
- social
- friendly
- guarded
- devious
- mischievous
- reckless
- daring
- vain

quark

- loyal
- affectionate
- expressive
- creative
- perceptive
- empathetic
- caring
- impatient
- restless
- pacifist
- stubborn
- loud
- comforting
- worrier

despite quark's lack of speech, they and theo
have learned to communicate using
various gestures and noises. occasionally
quark just writes out things using his ink if
theo is having trouble figuring something out.
theo is bright and spontaneous, helping quark
have fun instead of worrying. quark comforts and
calms theo when he needs to cool down or unwind.
they both cannot stand to be apart and look out
for each other as much as possible, although quark
cannot physically do anything in a fight, but rather
provides the moral support and encouragement.
theo and quark love making jokes that no one
else can understand and it's a habit of theirs to
make some noises to each other while talking to
another doll, then burst out laughing. needless to
say, quite a few dolls have stormed off, convinced
they're being joked about (which is usually the case).
despite theo's sociable and friendly nature, quark
is the only close friend he has and it's company enough
for him. quark doesn't enjoy the company of others much,
and prefers just to hang out with theo re-doing the tattoo
on his remaining arm or giving him advice while gambling.
quark doesn't much approve of theo's 'hobbies', especially
thieving, but has realized convincing theo to stop is
a pointless cause, and resolved to love him anyways.

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[.chamomile.]

by Xhat

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username .chamomile.

dolls name Remington Winslow

nickname Remmy; he goes by this often, and

Remington is usually only used in a professional environment

age twenty seven

birthday november second

gender male

sexuality demisexual and demiromantic;

he only experiences attraction when he's

emotionally connected/"invested" in another person

shadows name salire; from latin, to jump, leap, dance

nicknames she goes by Sally, as the name is derived from salire.

Remmy used to call her Lyra when they first bonded,

but he only uses this name when they're in a serious situation

and need to get out, or if she's done something bad.

gender female

"birthday" she and Remmy formed their

contract on December twelfth

╚════════════════════════╝

"Why hello there! Welcome to Bound Souls, I deal in antique books and give them fresh, new covers and bindings and all that lovely stuff. I sell regular books as well, just over there actually. I've got to stay in business somehow. Sally here in my partner in crime, she helps me with a lot of stuff around the shop. Oh! I sell coffee and tea here too, thats in the back of the store by the couches and beanbags and the fireplace. Neat, huh? Anyway, sorry for rambling at you, but its not often that I get customers at this time of day. I just like to talk a lot you know? My line of work is pretty lonely. Sorry! Sorry. I'll let you get to browsing, I've got some paperwork to go take care of. . ."



Remington works in the business of restoring books and buying and selling rare books as well. He usually deals with antiques, since those are the types of books that take on the most damage and are the most valuable to his customers. Occasionally, he'll restore old, beat up books from someones childhood, or he'll even be commissioned as an artist to design the covers of a book that someone is publishing. His shop itself is tucked into the old, historic downtown area of the city. He bought two of the tiny buildings, that formerly used to be homes for the middle class back in the day, and merged them together to create more space. The main floor is the shop, he has a large area full of modern novels like Harry Potter, and a smaller area where he keeps less rare but still expensive antique books. There's also a small counter where customers can talk to him about book restoration, and he displays some of his work there as well. In the very back of the store, he has a tea, coffee, and bakery shop. Its all very small, Remmy does most of the baking himself but usually in small batches. There are couches and beanbags all over the area, and there's a wood burning fireplace in the back wall that he keeps aflame during the cold months of the year. He expanded the space upstairs as well, which is where he lives. Its much more spacious and has all of the necessary modern living equipment. His workshop is up here, and his bedroom and bathroom and kitchen (naturally). Remington rents out the extra space every few months or so. He's not a fan of having a permanent resident because he does like his privacy, and its nice to have people in and out of his home even if they are paying him for it.

don't judge a book by its cover

Remington is a very bright and happy doll, but he doesn't find companionship easily, and is very lonely in reality. He is closest to his shadow, Sally, whom he still hides things from sometimes because he doesn't want to cause her too much trouble. He rants to her about customers, tells her about his day (even though she was there the whole time), always asks her what she wants to eat (even though she doesn't eat), he makes pretty things for her, tells her when he's mad or upset or scared or when he doesn't want to do something. She is there for him and is always listening, even as a tattoo on his arm. She spends about half her time between being a tattoo and as a little ink dog, taking on the form of a tattoo when Remmy requests it or when he doesn't feel like sharing. He's glad that she understands him and can tell when his moods are bad and he wants to be alone, or when his moods are really bad and even though he feels like he wants to hide himself away, Sally forces him to interact with her so he won't feel such a crushing loneliness. But on the outside, he's enthusiastic and always cheerful, and no, it isn't an act to hide himself away. Its just how he is, and he doesn't mind that he's like this because Remington is genuinely happy whenever he's talking to his customers or to Sally, or when he meets someone interesting on the streets. To him, the world is a wonder filled place thats full of opportunity and the chance to experience more than what he has at the shop. He's an optimist, always looking on the bright side of things because sometimes he just can't handle the negative side. He's talkative and open about himself, to a point, he's curious and always willing to try something new. He's a gentlemen and a charmer, and his relationships don't usually last that long but it doesn't bother him a lot. Remington wants to have someone special, but for him, its hard to imagine another doll that would listen to him like Sally does, and care for him, and not mind that he was mixed up in a bad past and that he's got a bit of emotional baggage. But, always the eternal optimist, Remmy knows that he'll find his true love some day, he just has to keep waiting.

the perfect companion

Sally is very patient and gentle, especially when it comes to Remington. In many ways, she acts like a service animal for him. She'll always listen to him rant, and toss in snippets of speech here and there to let him know she's still listening, and she knows when he's really hurting, and to comfort him when he's like that. She'll yip at him if he's starting to be rude with a customer or when his emotions are getting in the way of his work, she'll nip at his wrist if she thinks he might be having a panic attack or if his anxieties are getting to be too much or if he's stressed himself out and really needs to take a break. She is always with Remington no matter where the doll goes, and if he's wandering around she'll do her best to guide him towards somewhere interesting, or away from the potholes in the sidewalks and streets that he'll definitely trip on. By nature, Remmy is very clumsy and absent minded, traits that she adores but not everyone can appreciate them. He refuses to acknowledge it (even though he knows very well that its true) and Sally will just huff and roll her eyes, and remind him that she loves every bit of him. Which is another thing that she does for him, she always reminds him of the things that she loves about him. Remington faces a lot of insecurities, but with her help and care he can move past them, and he is equal in professing his love and admiration for the shadow, and they cannot live without each other. In their little dynamic duo, Remmy is like a two year old and she is like his mother, or older sister. They balance each other out, because while Sally is kind and loving, she has problems of her own too, problems that only Remington can help with. Though, those problems are a story for another time.

tattoos

Sally usually only takes on four different tattoo forms on Remington's arms, just to keep things easy for her since he likes more complicated designs. He does have a couple of permanent ink tattoos, one of the deathly hallows symbol on his neck, just behind and below his ear, and song lyrics inscribed on his hipbone, but he likes having Sally make designs on his arms. He sketched out all the designs himself, and she practiced making them and they would tweak them together. Its like muscle memory for her, and the design changes depending on her mood (or when Remmy wants to go with a certain look). For him, its more intimate than just ink on his body because with Sally it means something special, and its something that only the two of them have.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

this is what I imagine the tattoo in the drawing to look like; at the very least I imagined it would be a tentacled creature. I went with an octopus/skull mix because Remington likes to think that it ups his cool factor, because what can get better than a skull sprouting tentacles. He also likes it because it reminds him of the Dark Mark.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

"A history of forgotten lies" is a phrase that Remington came up with one day after doing a bit of writing to relieve some stress. There isn't much meaning behind it other than that he came up with the phrase. Take it as you will.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

Sally did most of the work on this tattoo, and its her personal favorite of the four. She's a fan of symmetrical designs that have a lot of details in them, and with added bits of color that are seemingly random. Of course, she couldn't handle too much detail with this tattoo because it wears her out, but she's happy with the way it turned out and Remington loves it of course.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

This is just a simple floral one that they hadn't really meant to come up with, but it had happened anyway. Remington has a secret love for floral patterns, not the cheesy ones on wallpaper that you found in your grandmothers home though. He has taste, impeccable taste if he does say so himself.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

so how did you lose your arm?

"I promise I wasn't doing something stupid. No, really! I wasn't. Don't look at me like that Sally, it was cool okay? Like action hero cool with explosions and stuff in the background. Okay, okay, I'll tell the actual story and I promise not to add anything in. But its still super cool!"

Remington was running, on the rooftops no less. From what, he wasn't even sure anymore because he had gotten himself into a right mess. Sure, insulting a couple of surly men wasn't exactly on his bucket list. He hadn't expected them to react that way, okay? He was innocent. Totally, one hundred percent innocent. He could hear voices yelling at him, mostly insults, none that he bothered to actually remember. He was losing them slowly, and he felt victorious as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, almost slipping on the concrete a few times, almost missing a jump here and there. It wasn't until he realized that he wasn't paying attention and that holy god was this a bad idea that he caught the top of his sneaker on a ledge, which threw him off balance and instead of continuing to go forward in an upwards arc, he was in fact going down, quickly. He could see a pile of cardboard boxes and lots of other junk piled on top of a dumpster, and (thank his lucky stars) a twin sized mattress that he was aiming to land on. Well, Sally is going to be pissed about this.

---------

It had all started when Remington had wandered off after a long shift at Bound Souls, which wasn't unusual for him. He felt like going for a walk and thats just what he did. He didn't have a very good sense of direction, and his attention tended to wander, so really he had no control over where his body wanted him to go. Sally was faithfully trotting by his side, more than occasionally nudging him in the right direction. She kept him from walking into obstacles or tripping over his own feet, which he was eternally grateful for. He was thinking about things he needed to do in the shop, things that he'd probably forget about as soon as he got back to the place, but maybe if he thought over it enough and repeated the thoughts over and over again in his head, he'd remember at least some of it.

They were wandering on train tracks, an abandoned yard. Metal was rusted everywhere and the empty boxcars were done up with graffiti and tags, some simple, others more complicated. Works of art. The skyline of the city could be seen to the north, and old buildings and abandoned homes were littered around the area that they could see. It wasn't a nice part of town, but it had that nostalgic feeling that Remington loved. Like when he was working on a book, running his fingers along the yellowed pages, tracing the artwork in the margins, feeling the texture of old cloth on the cover. It was dangerous, but safe. With Sally here he felt more secure. So he just kept walking, and walking, and walking, not even hearing it when his shadow growled and barked at him, only coming back to reality when she nipped at his ankle.

Remington looked up sharply, confused at where he had ended up, and even more so by the men that he saw in front of him. They looked menacing, and there were guns in their hands. He frowned, what would men with guns be doing here anyway? He could make out tattoos on their bodies, noticed that they were all well dressed in fancy suits, and he most definitely noticed the tension between the two groups of men. They hadn't noticed him yet, which was good, and he made a mad dash for the nearest boxcar, silently climbing inside and peering out the opening, watching whatever was going on.

He heard a few phrases being tossed around, mostly threats about death of other people and such, and a mention of money too. It didn't take him long to deduct what he had walked in to, some sort of gang deal of course. Things like this happened all over town, but no one bothered to stop it, not even the police. It wasn't worth it, these men were dangerous and held a lot of power. So of course Remmy was scared out of his mind when he tumbled out of the boxcar, having leaned too far forward too far even though Sally had tried to warn him. He fell with a loud thud and caught the mens attention. All of their eyes were on him, and for a moment, everything was silent and still, and then all hell broke loose.

He scrambled to his feet and ran for his life, trying to think of some way to outrun these men who were shooting at him. How was he supposed to dodge bullets? He didn't even know where Sally was, but a quick glance down at his arm revealed that she was wrapped around him, the white ink of his favorite octopus tattoo standing out against her inky blackness. Well at least he hadn't lost her. His breaths were labored and the men were quickly gaining on him, and without thinking he ran straight into the back of a red van, two other people in there desperately gesturing for him to move faster while a woman shot at the gang members through the passenger side windows. "Come on cupcake! We don't have all day," someone yelled, and Remmy landed with a muffled 'oomph' in the back of the vehicle, which took off as soon as he was in, back towards the city.

"Glad you're okay kid," the man said, patting him on the shoulder and promptly handing him a kitten. Like an actual kitten, which felt soft and warm in his hands. What the hell? Who where these people? "We're with the police," the woman in the passengers seat explained, "We've been trying to catch these guys for a while now, thought some undercover stuff would work. At the very least get some intel. Might have been more successful if you hadn't interfered though." Remington felt a little guilty at that, he hadn't meant to ruin their work. "Oh don't listen to Jesse," the man said, glaring at the woman, "She's just annoyed that she keeps failing at these missions, its not your fault. You're not injured?" "No, no, I'm fine," he said, "Just a little shaken is all." Quiet conversation passed between the four undercover officers, none of which Remington bothered to pay attention to. They were in the city now, and there were several cars behind them, and not just regular traffic. The gang members must have been tailing them.

"They're still on us!" Jessica said, and the driver pulled into an alley, slamming on the brakes and screaming at them all to get out. He rushes out with them, and while they're about to have some sort of cop versus gang showdown with guns and people screaming for backup, he's climbed up a fire escape and onto the roof. Remington has never done anything remotely related to parkour before, but he figures this is a good time to learn. Right? A couple of gang members have somehow followed him, and he's still holding on to this poor little kitten who's mewling like crazy. He doesn't know what to do with it, and he just holds on tight and starts running, leaping with everything he has. The men are right behind him, more bullets are being shot at him.

He can't even begin to fathom how he had ended up here. Gang members chasing after him, annoyed police officers in a red van (seriously, it wasn't even a nice red, it was like neon red and it was ugly), and a kitten in his hands. Why did he have a kitten in his hands? He's thinking about how he got a kitten when he trips, and then he spies the twin mattress beneath him, hoping that it'll help cushion his fall. He does his best to twist his body so that he won't land on his front, throwing out his right elbow beneath him because now he's forgotten about the kitten, and then he remembers that he doesn't want to hurt it.

Theres a loud, shattering sound and angry yells above him. They last for a few minutes, and then they're gone. He's alone when he comes back to his senses, and his right forearm has broken off. The joint is completely shattered, there was no hope for fixing it. There's a large crack running down the entire length, but thankfully his shoulder is relatively unscathed. It hurts a lot, but its not broken, and the kitten is pawing at the broken pieces of his arm. Remington sighs, getting off the dumpster and walking back to his shop, "Well, that was fun," he muttered, petting the kitten softly as he wondered what to name it.

"See! I told you it was epic. I mean, there was a gang, and there were guns, and the police guys were super cool. And the kitten! I named him Geoffrey, he likes to hang out in the shop and sit with my customers. All that action and stuff, wasn't it totally legit? Thats how I lost my arm, running from fancily dressed gun wielding men, just like in the action movies. I mean, I'm basically James Bond. Sally likes to remind me that its really because I was dumb and landed wrong to save a kitten, but that just adds to it all! I save a kitten, all the best hero's save cute animals. Still an epic story though."

♣ cotton candy
♣ book binding
♣ the smell of old books and new books
♣ coffee; mocha's are his favorite
♣ sketching and writing; for fun
♣ meeting new people

♣ sudden, loud noises
♣ being surprised
♣ being clumsy (it gets him into a lot of trouble)
♣ feeling alone/trapped
♣ small rooms and big crowds; he's claustrophobic
♣ anyone who thinks they know more about book restoration than him

the book binding business

Remington hadn't known what to do when he first came to life as a doll. He had dabbled in a few areas of work, like baking and making tiny sea creatures out of glass, but nothing had really caught his attention. He worked everyday, squeezing in as many hours as possible for the first few years of his life, slowly saving up his money. He didn't know what for or why, but he figured that it couldn't hurt to have a lot of cash saved up. He'd been searching for something to do, something more than just working retail as the store manager. He wanted, needed, purpose in his life because his work was so boring and lonely, and he couldn't talk with anyone about clothes and then ask them out for coffee later. Retail wasn't like that. It wasn't until Remmy walked into an old bookshop and saw a beautiful, restored version of an old copy of Edgar Allen Poe's works that he realized he wanted to do something like that. Make things, make old things beautiful. Yes, it was fun and pretty to make tiny sea creatures out of glass, but for him it wasn't the same. Remington was chasing those feelings of nostalgia that came along with every antique book-- that feeling of taking something literally hundreds of years old and making it new and pretty again. He would be one of the few people on Earth to really read and appreciate these old works, he would give them new covers and artwork, fill in ink where the words had faded, give the spines new glue to hold all the pages together. It was a beautiful craft, and he was eager to learn.
He apprenticed with the man who owned the shop, taking off weekends and devoting all that time to learning. He stayed with him until the day he died, which really wasn't a long time. Only six years. He had grown close to him, and in return for helping him with the books and being a gentle companion, he had been given a small fortune that he added to his already vast savings account. Excited and eager, he had bought property in the historic downtown district and opened his own shop, Bound Souls. Remington believes that within every book, there is a tiny piece of the authors soul, more so with the antiques because they were older, because they lasted through the trials of time when others hadn't. The author lives on within the words they had written, the illustrations, the binding and the covers, the thin pages. He likes to believe that when he restores these books, he fixes a piece of their soul and gives it new life. This isn't just a job for him, its his life, and its his soul, and he pours every bit of him into it.

[~Soul~]

Please click the picture above to see my forum!

[yttd]

as much as i adore this doll and agree he totally looks like a wtnv doll i feel heavily outmatched and therefore wish to drop out of the competition.

[aoba]

OHHHH MAN
MARKING,

[lost in time.]

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═username // Lost in Time.
═doll's name // Peregrine (Perry)
═doll's gender // cisgender male
═shadow's name // Roo (Cerulean)
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personality

colourful ๑ compassionate ๑ eloquent ๑ scatter-brained ๑ over-the-top ๑ spontaneous ๑ suave

Perry is a person with a happy-go-lucky attitude and a positive outlook on life. He throws himself into everything he does, hoping it will all turn out for the better and end up pleasing the ones he associates with. He is known for his random gestures of help and tends to offer flowers from his shop to random passers-by. His actions, unique sense of style and attitude may seem over-the-top to some but Peregrine aims to please others and himself with his suave dress and imaginative, though often ridiculous, ideas. He is always eager to share his thoughts with others and speaks in an almost exaggerated way, throwing in dramatic gestures along the way, as if to emphasize upon the almost unbelievably outrageous points of his crazy tales.

A breeze fluttered through my open vest as hurdled over the Jenga blocks scattered across the hardwood floor, the dog's collar gripped tightly in my hand. The dog tag would look great on the wall of my shop, assuming I could get it off of this collar. My breaths were short and quick as I scurried to escape the wrath of the dog who had just woken up and was now trailing after me, much to my dismay. Apparently I didn't possess the skills of stealth that I thought I did. I had been trying to climb out from under his chin after undoing the buckle of the collar, tiptoeing as best as I could, when the mighty beast's eyes had fluttered open in surprise. I managed to get a little bit ahead of him, as he was still groggy, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to me. Resistance was futile.

I skipped over some jacks which had been left all over the floor. Usually I didn't mind the untidy bedroom but today it was causing me some delay. I finally understood why Mom cared so much that her kids had neat floors. Running through this mess was quite the hassle. I heard the footsteps getting louder and closer behind me but I dared not glance back, for it would slow me down and most certainly frighten me more.

The entrance to my doll-sized flower shop was in sight now. Almost there. I narrowly avoided getting flattened with a remote control car as I dashed towards the tiny teal door to safety. I felt a sudden hot sweat coursing down the back of my neck, when I realized that it wasn't sweat, but condensation from the dog's warm breath. I quickened my pace with another small best of speed. I was almost at the door... just five more inches. I was panicking now, the dog hot on my heels.

Riiiiiip.

A terrible shredding sound tore through the air. I glanced down at my side to see that my arm had been torn clean off at the joint and my breath hitched in my throat. Shoot. This mission couldn't have gone farther from my plan. With my head turned, I could see the dog with my arm in it's mouth in my peripheral vision. There was no way of getting it back now so I gritted my teeth and hurried the last inch or so to the shop door and closed it behind me.

I slid my back down the inside of the door in misery, panting heavily, the collar still in my good hand. The joint that had been torn hurt like Hell. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. The plastic looked sharp and artificial without the rest of my arm attached. That dog was probably having a laugh right now, the miserable mutt. I turned the collar over in my hand -the only hand I had left now. This was the price one had to pay for beauty, I supposed, and it really wasn't worth the sacrifice.

[Valute]

Reserve <3
Username: Valute
Doll Name:
Shadow Name:
How did the doll lose his arm?: