s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse

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florentine, d4b ❁
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s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse Mar 9, 2013 4:36:14 GMT -5

Post by florentine, d4b ❁ on Mar 9, 2013 4:36:14 GMT -5

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In the darkest corner of District Eight, a tiny shop watches the shadowed streets with a thousand eyes. In the windows, the white faces glimmer with an awful knowing that is almost lifeless. The dolls seem to shiver in the cold - tangled bodies, some without arms or legs, stitches digging into their faces like hand-crafted monsters. Here, is the Doll Hospital. The atmosphere is just a little bit too alive, with rows and rows of rosy cheeks stacked with lose heads and lost limbs - shelves filled with needles and buttons for eyes line every wall.

It's an old establishment. Some suggest it was even around before the year of the very first Games, but others laugh. The owner sits forever behind his desk, peering at the world over his crescent-moon glasses and mourning the death of his wife. They say he opened the hospital in her memory - fixing the toys of each good little girl and boy in the district in an effort to heal himself. More recently, though, he has opened his creaking doors to the unwanted orphans of the district. Girls with nowhere else to go but the streets are provided with a room, encouraged to work by a kind smile and steady hand. Some relish the opportunity - spending the days sewing and darning, working through the seemingly endless supply of patients to mend. Others reject the odd form of affection offered to them by a man who can rarely tell the difference between his charges and his dolls.

District Eight . Doll hospital . Orphanage

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BABY DOLL // EIGHTEEN : JILL

Jill was only sixteen years old when she became pregnant. For a lot of girls, becoming a mother is the ultimate dream, but hers shattered when her baby was born without a pulse. With no boyfriend or family to speak of, she was left to suffer through the pain of losing a child alone. However, her desire to be a mother never wavered, but you could say her sanity certainly did. She now spends her days wandering the orphanage, cooing to the baby in her arms that she is never seen without. She doesn’t seem to mind that it doesn’t speak, or cry, or eat. In fact, she doesn’t even seem to notice that it’s made of porcelain.

WOODEN DOLL // SEVENTEEN : LUCINDA

Lucinda – or “Stiff”, as the other girls have taken to calling her – is the self-appointed disciplinarian and dictator caretaker of the girls, second only to the doctor. She is never without her rulebook, scribbling down almost every little mishap, misstep, and misunderstanding that goes on within the orphanage’s walls. She’s opted to writing out (often bizarre) punishments whenever they’re needed, tearing the pages from her book and shoving them into the offender’s hands on the spot, demanding they follow the written order accordingly or face further consequences. She has a difficult time linking facial expressions to feelings, and therefore almost never expresses any sort of emotion herself. Sarcasm is completely lost on her, and she is not one to beat around the bush or sugarcoat anything. Strict and stern, her word is law.

STRING DOLL // SIXTEEN : HENRIETTA

Henrietta is often speaking, however she can't seem to get her words to match her thoughts. Instead, she repeats the last phrases she heard over and over, in a chant that doesn't seem to end. The other girls are fearful of her mimicry - an echo is the last thing any of them want trailing around after them. She's a serious child, who has long since accepted her inability to formulate her own words. Her twin, Lola, is her communicator. They often spend hours together, trying to get Henrietta to utter her own thoughts. As of yet, the most she has managed is a twisted mockery of words she has heard in the last few days - sometimes, though, she quotes things perfectly from the past the girls would rather not know. To many, it seems like she is mocking them, but she does not choose her eery songs.

PUPPET // SIXTEEN : LOLA

It seems all too easy to pull Lola’s strings, to bend and twist her to do whatever one may desire. She has a deep-rooted and insurmountable need to do as she’s told, no matter how ludicrous, impossible or dangerous a command it may seem. To say that the other girls often take advantage of her inability to say “no” would be an understatement – she’s nothing short of a slave, stuck doing another girl’s chores or taking the blame for someone else’s wrongdoings. She’s the servant and the scapegoat, and the helplessness she feels often drives her to stay as far away from other people as possible, lest she be stuck doing their dirty work against her will. The only person she likes to be around is the only person who is incapable of telling her what to do – her twin sister, Henrietta, who can’t even speak for herself much less demand anything of Lola.

VOODOO DOLL // FIFTEEN : ALICE

Alice enjoys sending shivers running up the spines of her family - almost as much as she enjoys running their lives from the small-scale model she is perfecting. Tiny figurines of each member of the household live in her closet, tucked inside a dollhouse she salvaged from one of the many overhauls of the basement. The dolls twist and turn in her hands, where she is quite certain they will lead real life to go as she wishes. When this fails, she closes her eyes and becomes the doll, desperately clawing at her own skin in a bid to inflict pain on others.

BUTTON-EYED DOLL // FIFTEEN : AUDREY - RESERVED FOR LEI

When Audrey was eleven, her drunken and enraged stepfather threw drain cleaner into her eyes and caused her to go permanently blind. She was told she could never live alone in her condition, but instead of staying and living with the abuse for the rest of her life, she decided to take her future into her own hands and ran away when she was thirteen, ending up in the doctor’s orphanage. She now spends her days sitting in her room, carving out the eyes of dolls and sewing buttons on in their place, resentful for her disability and craving the understanding of someone – no matter if they’re inanimate – to understand what it’s like to have your sight torn from you in events beyond your control. She’s desperate to prove that she’s more than just the blind girl, often putting herself in dangerous situations in order to show that she can be normal and do normal things, despite her disadvantage.

NURSE DOLL // FOURTEEN : PHOEBE

Phoebe’s room looks like a gruesome hospital scene from a horror movie, the floors and shelves littered with grotesque caricatures of dolls with limbs grafted to their bodies in odd places and positions, two-headed travesties and distorted mockeries that she likes to call her “patients”. She finds it fun and endlessly amusing, seeing what monstrosities she can create by switching parts around and adding new ones, or taking them away. She enjoys putting shock on peoples’ faces, often by leaving her little effigies in the other girls’ rooms or in the food cabinet or under the covers of someone else’s bed in order to scare and disturb. There are certain ones, however, that she prefers to keep to herself. Even she knows there’s something disturbing and wrong about her secret collection. She has a problem, see - she doesn’t always limit her creations to just dolls.

RAGDOLL // FOURTEEN : RUBY - RESERVED FOR CLOVER

Ruby refuses to conform to any of the basic human principals - her words are often unintelligible roars, she refuses to use the furniture and cutlery provided and she is never seen without mud streaking her face. The few times in her life when someone has managed to get her cleaned up, the dirt has returned to her pale skin quickly. Somehow, she always manages to look more unkempt after being groomed. She's truly wild - completely unafraid to bite or kick or lash out as she chooses to. She's not mean or cruel and yet she clambers in through the windows at night to break the dolls her family have managed to mend. In her eyes, she's helping them, creating work for the following day. Her slightly odd perception of normality leads her into all kinds of unusual situations, and she'll use any blunt, straightforward attempt to escape.

CHINA DOLL // THIRTEEN : CLARA

Clara was once a dancer, but after her family perished in an accident, she lost the funding to continue her passion. Instead, she committed herself to becoming the most adored of the children. Simpleminded yet observant, she works to turn herself into a doll - painting her face, lying still amongst the other occupants of the hospital and begging the others to sew buttons into her eyes or stitch her mouth so it stays fixed in a smile. She's desperate for the attention of her new father, so much so that she has been known to wait for hours, holding her breath, looking to be treated as one of the beautiful porcelains on the top shelf. Some of the others play along, pouring her fake tea and dressing her up, however many of them scorn her vanity and roll their eyes at her endless arguments as to why she's made of china.

PAPER DOLL // TWELVE : EMILY

Emily lives in her own world. A swirling dreamscape of clouds and blank canvas, she's able to build whatever her heart desires. She never goes without - her vivid land is limitless, her imagination vast. Sometimes, she doesn't even hear the voices that call to her from reality, but even she can usually tell the difference between the two words. Being called 'childish' one day long ago scared her - she's terrified that one day her kingdom will evaporate and she'll be left with the painful, too-bright reality that she sometimes feels creeping into her consciousness. Because of this, she carries charcoal with her wherever she goes, scrawling her world onto paper, cardboard, fabric and any surface she can find in an effort to preserve her world, lest it be forgotten. Sometimes, when she cannot find her precious stick of charcoal, she flies into a rage in both lands, setting things ablaze in an effort to produce more of the material. She's dreadfully afraid of fire, and yet the terror is so gripping she cannot help but burn whatever is near to the ground to continue her careful documentation.

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FIRST CHOICE: Who do you want most?
SECOND CHOICE: Who else?
CHARACTER IDEAS: For both choices, please.
WRITING SAMPLE: Link, please.
FACECLAIM IDEA: As many as you like.
PLOT IDEAS: Be creative!
ANYTHING ELSE: Whatever you'd like to say.

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Beautiful graphic by Elegant. Table coding by Lei. Plot by Lei and Clover.

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Mary
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last seen Mar 24, 2013 6:13:11 GMT -5

promises of yesterday

s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse Mar 9, 2013 8:23:12 GMT -5

Post by Mary on Mar 9, 2013 8:23:12 GMT -5

FIRST CHOICE: Henrietta
SECOND CHOICE: Alice
CHARACTER IDEAS:

Henrietta

Its hard to say things, its difficult to wind herself up to fathom her own thoughts. The power of words stays with her forever, careless words that seem to have no meaning in the slightes

Alice

Just a little girl that they don't understand, she locks herself in her room and sticks needles into small dolls that resemble her friends. No one ever did understand Alice, she was always the dreamer of the orphanage, the little one that would be sitting on the swings alone everytime you so as glanced in her direction.

WRITING SAMPLE: -
FACECLAIM IDEA: -
PLOT IDEAS: Be creative!
ANYTHING ELSE: Whatever you'd like to say.

WIP

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umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]
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7,899 POSTS
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— 🥀 —

s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse Mar 9, 2013 13:00:21 GMT -5

Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Mar 9, 2013 13:00:21 GMT -5

FIRST CHOICE: Lolaaaa
SECOND CHOICE: Henrietta
CHARACTER IDEAS:

Lola:

I want Lola to be very, very much aware that the other girls take advantage of her, but lack any ability to say no. Other than running and hiding from them all, of course. I think her reason for always wanting to help others is because she couldn't help her parents, and that has always weighed heavy on her shoulders. I think that, as a person, Lola would be more of a listener in more than one way- she listens to what people say, and would rather let others talk, than talk herself. Really, she only likes to let her voice be heard around her sister because she is the only one that really understands everything she is saying.

After their parents went missing, both of the girls were devastated, and Lola began to only truly trust Henrietta. She was the only living family the girl had left, after all. Even though her sister could never reply, Lola could always tell how she felt about it all by the nature of her actions. Really, it was just as easy to communicate with her as anyone else.

Henrietta:

Action speak louder than words, and that has never rang anymore true than for Henrietta. She had always had a stutter, and she had always been teased for it. After her parent's disappearance, it was just magnified to the point where she could no longer speak for herself. Unlike her sister, though, she still acted for herself. Even if she didn't say the word 'no' people still caught the drift. She was never anyone's doormat, even at a young age. Even she hates the way she is when it comes to talking. There are times when she mutters the things that her parents used to tell her and Lola- the sweetest things, and it is always something different, and always just as heart breaking as the last time. Lola seems more bothered by it all than she does, but that is probably because Henrietta gets a little, although not not, brace for what is to come. It is almost like she can feel the words forming on her tongue, but can't stop herself from blurting them out.

As much as she hates it all, she would rather leave it alone and let it heal than work on it, because it annoys her whenever she fails. She appreciates Lola trying to help her, but at the same time, how long could that take? Weeks? Months? Years? What if the only way to fix herself was to pretend it didn't exist at all, and what if trying to heal it before it was ready was like taking a cast off of a broken arm a couple of weeks before it was healed? What if it only caused more pain and struggle?

WRITING SAMPLE: Gasper thread or Goravich thread<3

FACECLAIM IDEA: I'll have to discuss this with whoever gets the other twin, yeah? xD Maybe I could use my Emma Roberts res, idk.

PLOT IDEAS: I would love for one of the girls, ~~Alice,~~ to tell Lola to do something really, really stupid and dangerous, and she is going to do it but Henrietta won't let her? I also would love to develop Henrietta into being able to utter small phrases and words eventually. xD

ANYTHING ELSE: I added the part about their parents going missing because I wasn't really sure what happened for them to end up in the orphanage, but if you want me to change it I can. ~~If I get Henrietta can I change her name pls?~~ Love you guys!<3

wip!

Last Edit: Mar 9, 2013 13:02:06 GMT -5 by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

cass
Retired Staff

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last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5

s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse Mar 9, 2013 21:57:20 GMT -5

Post by cass on Mar 9, 2013 21:57:20 GMT -5

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FIRST CHOICE: PAPER DOLL; Emily

SECOND CHOICE: NURSE DOLL; Phoebe

CHARACTER IDEAS:

Emily -

In her room there is no place free of her markings, in her room every inch of the walls are smeared with drawings, words and pictures that explode from her imagination. Words are a powerful free and imagination as free and creative as hers can draw picture that could destroy someone, a simple word can change the way you see a person, and Emily has them all balancing on the tips of her fingers, where they leak into the charcoal and explode onto her walls, canvas' and anywhere she can. Her mind runs wild and free, there is no limit to the thoughts that she can conjure. Magic springs from the depths of her minds to be thrown into the worlds she makes, sometimes she will whisper her thoughts before she writes them, testing them, tasting them, like a sweet, sweet song. That is what writing is to her, it is like creating a song, except the information and the pictures presented her so much more long and flowing. Writing is an art, it is the most beautiful things she knows, anything can happen in a book. She can do anything and create what ever she wants with words. No one can tell her she is wrong, no one can tell her to do something else, to change this or fix that because she has created it. She was the maker, the God, the reason for existence.

A whole world can be created within the confines of a single sentence. She can create anything and anyone, she can do what she wants in those worlds, because they are hers. She loves them, and as long as she has her charcoal she knows she will be able to place them on a surface where everyone can see them. Writing isn't all about the story, writing involves delving into new areas and simply getting people to read it. Sometimes she likes to watch people read it, and just stare at them, watching the raise of an eyebrow where it should be raised. She loves to read peoples faces like they read her books, the words embedded within them telling a story as clearly as the reactions she sees. The gasp when required, the clutch of a hand, a single tear, real emotion when she needs it and she knows that people feel how she does. She can express anything with her words. Emily is controlling, she pictures a world simply just so where everything goes as she wants it, where everything happens because she lets it happen.

And even though she can create any story she wants, in any frame, setting or place she wants they always have to have a happy ending. She knows people don't like stories with no happy ending. A story is too much like reality if it grasps the clutches of the dead, where there is no good at he end. So she makes those worlds perfect, the damsel is always saved, the prince always gets his queen and the evil are vanquished. If there is no good on the real world there must be something in her reality. She needs to have that happiness that never seems to be glued to the world that truly surrounds her. She can sense that emptiness, those shattered joys and hopes and she tries to build them in her mind, where no one can stop them except for herself. It is perfection she seeks in those little worlds of her own creation. They float on everything that she can create, and every twisted little detail is there because she wants it to be there. Disasters happen only because she says they do. Death is a rare disease in her mind, and her tales are often strung together by delicately hopping over those areas, slipping past them. Implying, but never saying.

Sometimes she tips and balances on the edge of reality, where her dreams and wishes seem that much more real and inviting, compared to the real world. Deep down she knows she will never be able to not distinguish between the to. One world is filled with too much pain and anguish, whilst the other is everything she ever wanted. On the surface she lives in that place, where anything and everything comes true, where with a simple word she can create love, or destroy the evil. In a place where pain can only be summoned because she wishes it so. She is God on those worlds and she makes them how she wants them to be. Emily is controlling, if you can mange to stay in her room and remove your eyes from the art, you can see the way that all her items are arranged so neatly and accurately. The few little toys she has face her, all sitting equally apart, facing their creator, their life giver. She is a girl that wants everything to have order. She is blind to other people, she drifts off into her own little space where no one can find her, where they cannot reach their hands and grab her and drag her away. In her mind there is only her, and the attention should all go to her, even if she does not outwardly seek it she wants it.

The world will burn. It is often a statement that lingers within the folds of her over-active mind when she looses her charcoal. There is never a more clear wrought rage then when that leaves her grasp. As long as their is fire balancing upon the edges of wood she will always have her stories and so the world does burn, she will set it alight to get more pf her precious material. Without her chalk her mind goes into over drive, the million stories and ideas within it over flowing and she begins to panic, scrabbling to grab them all on shove them back in. She doesn't want them to leave, every thought must become a dream and every dream into reality, into words where no one can say they did not exist. She sets her mind ablaze, burning her world as well as theirs, and she will until she gets her charcoal, and her anger comes from her fear, because without her charcoal she is nothing, without her stories and her worlds she is nothing. If she cannot write them down she knows she will not do anything, her mind would fill too much with them all and they would mix and mingle and there would be no real story. Then the world would truly be ablaze as she burned with it.

That is why she fears fire. Even though it saves her and even though without it she would fall it will destroy her. The day she looses her charcoal and never finds it will be the day she dies. She will set everything on fire to find it, and she never will and she will burn.

- - -

Phoebe -

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wip wip wip

WRITING SAMPLE: ★

FACECLAIM IDEA: ★

PLOT IDEAS: ~~Be creative!~~ okay be creative. Practical joke: Stealing her charcoal and then she will set the house on fire or something. Idk. Maybe she creates a story where one of her 'siblings' does something and it comes true, or maybe she does the story and tries to make it come true. She could draw on someones work, in their room. Maybe she draws on someone. Idk, mang, I'm not that good with plot ideas xD

ANYTHING ELSE: om nom nom. i'mma eat you. ily.
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Last Edit: Mar 11, 2013 5:19:20 GMT -5 by cass

Anna Banana
Capitol Resident

[M:-4150]

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last seen Jul 4, 2014 7:39:41 GMT -5

Making things happen one day at a time

s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse Mar 9, 2013 23:53:15 GMT -5

Post by Anna Banana on Mar 9, 2013 23:53:15 GMT -5

FIRST CHOICE: Baby Doll(Jill)

SECOND CHOICE: China Doll(Clara)

CHARACTER IDEAS:

Baby Doll(Jill): A broken heart and a broken mind all the result of a pregnancy that a foolish girl got herself into. It didn't scare Jill though, she was excited the prospect of being a mother, excited that she was to bring life into the world. She would wander the district sharing her excitement with the people around her, intent on letting them share in the happiness that she felt. Than came the day of the birth, the highest point of happiness for a girl, for a mother, everything was perfect and it would be a perfect day. But perfection doesn't last forever, nothing lasts forever, and happiness is perhaps the most fragile emotion of them all. The child was born with no pulse, the little fluttering heart of the child did not beat life into it's small frame. The agonized screams of the mother could be heard for hours as she cradled the limp form of her baby in her arms willing it to come back to life with her tears and cries of pain.

The child would not return though, and it never would. Jill would be forced to suffer the loss of the child on her own. Forced to suffer alone, the mental state of Jill slowly declined. There was no family, no boyfriend, only the lonely solitude of the mind that had suffered so much. She remained in the hospital for several days as teh doctors tried to help her cope with her loss. Their words fell on deaf ears and the medicines had varied results, but none of it provided her with relief. Forced to accept that there was no helping her the doctors released her back into the district. As she wandered in a state of complete oblivion and depression she found a home, the dollhouse, a home for orphans and girls in need of help.

It was here that the true mental state of Jill was revealed.. That very first night that she arrived at the home her eyes settled on a doll, a baby doll, that sat on a low shelf. With a cry of happiness she ran to the doll, and pulled it into her arms cradling it carefully. The other girls stared at her as she kissed the doll and began to rock it gently as if to put it to sleep. She didn't even notice though, her gaze was fixed upon the doll, the doll she believed to be the baby that had passed away in her arms. It never even occured to her that it wasn't truly her baby, that the child made no noise, or there was no gently rise and fall of it's small chest as it breathed.

In her eyes, or rather her mind, this was her baby. It would smile up at her, and would let out a little giggle as she smiled back. This baby was as alive to her as everyone else around her was, it was flesh and blood, her baby. That night she took one of the doll cradles and placed the child in it, and she began to rock it back and forth while she sang a gentle lullaby. When she was satisfied that the "baby" was asleep she curled up into the bed and turned onto her side keeping an eye on the cradle. Several times she woke up in the night, to the pitiful "cries" of the child, and every time she would turn the lights on in the room and try to get the baby to sleep. The grumbles and complaints of the other girls could be heard for several minutes after the lights had been turned out, but it did nothing to stop her. Little did she know that the cries she heard were her own, the cries of a mother who had lost her child.

Eventually the other girls were forced to accept that Jill believed the doll to be her baby. It didn't grow, it didn't cry, it didn't eat, but Jill firmly believed that it was very much alive. She would give it a bottle, sing it to sleep, and pick out clothes for it waiting for the day it would "grow" into them. Day in and day out Jill could be found wandering the halls of the orphanage with the doll held in her arms. It smiles at her and she smiles at it because that is what makes her happy. Her part of the room is decorated in pastel colors with anything that could possibly be hurtful hidden away and out of reach. It's not uncommon to find her berating the other girls for not taking the necessary safety precautions around her baby. Constantly she tells them they need to be more careful because there is a baby in the house, but they just give her the usual look and proceed with whatever it was they were doing.

It doesn't stop her from continuing to carry on as she is. Infact it only reinforces her belief that they don't care about her child. No matter though, she will be the best mother in the world to that child, it would grow up to be the greatest child in all the districts. She was happy, she was no longer alone, she had her "baby" back, her suffering was at an end. Jill had found happiness, but once more it was a fragile happiness that was bound to end sadly. Until than though she was content at last to have her "baby" back in her life.

China Doll(Clara): The small form of a girl can be seen in her shadow against the wall, it moves gracefully around to a piece of beautiful music. Her slight frame is perfection as she glides along the floor her feet barely making a sound as each foot lands carefully on the wooden floor. For years she danced for people, for her family, for their friends, for the entertainment of the people of the district. She was loved by everyone because of her bubbly personality and adorable smile. It was not to last though, she was to lose what it was she loved to do, infact she was to lose the very people that she loved. Tragically her family died in a fatal accident that left her the only survivor. No longer did those little feet glide delicately across the floor, no more did her slight frame move in such a way that brought a smile to the faces of those watching.

She was admitted into an orphanage, an orphanage so aptly called the doll house. So used to the adoring faces of the people as she danced for them that she made it her goal to be the most loved out of all the children there. No matter the cost, no matter who she had to go through to do it she would be the most loved out of all the children. None of her plans were ever complicated or extravagent, most of the time it involved putting the brightest smile onto her face and being as cute as possible. She always took note of how useful a smile could be in charming people and making them crumble before you. It wasn't doen maliciously or with any intent of being cruel, she just missed being loved.

It was than that she came to realize something, that the dolls that surrounded her managed to bring happiness to people. There was always a smile on their faces, people wanted to hug them and talk to them, what if...what if she were to become one of the dolls. Tirelessly she set to work becoming one of the dolls that people loved so dearly. It started with face paint, taking one of the cutest dolls in the orphanage she set it down on the table infront of a mirror and set to work making her face look exactly like it. Once she had succeeded she set herself down amongst the other dolls. A smile on her face just like the rest of them, for hours she would sit and watch as the other girls walked by. Several of them would look at the dolls and smile, and she believed that they were smiling at her. She had succeeded in her mission to be loved, at least from her perspective.

It didn't stop there though, the more she pretended to be one of the dolls the more she wanted to actually be one of the dolls. She would beg the other occupants of the orphanage to sew buttons into her eyes or stitch her mouth into a permanent smile. No longer content with just being a human doll she wanted to really be one of the dolls. When they didn't give her what she wanted she would begin to cry and search for a doll to hug, but the doll she wanted to hug ~~herself~~ was out of her reach. Never the less her dream to become the most adored doll in the orphanage was not to be stopped. Even if it meant moving to a different target to try and obtain the love and adoration she so desired.

Her newest target, her new father, she wanted him to love her just as her real father had. For hours she would sit among the dolls in his room, holding her breath every time he neared her location, longing to be held and loved like the dolls around her. No matter how long it takes for her to achieve her goal she will achieve it, and with the backing of ~~most~~ all of the other girls helping her to become a living doll there was nothing in her way. She was now the star of every tea party and game of house, she even lets them dress her in whatever they want. All in the pursuit of being loved as she once was, the girl who once danced for the adoration and love of others was now more or less an object of entertainment to them. But she didn't mind...she was after all still loved...right?

WRITING SAMPLE:Pinch Me I'm Dreaming

FACECLAIM IDEA: For Jill me thinks, Imogen De Souza and Maisie Williams for Clara As far as I could tell she wasn't taken sooooo xD

PLOT IDEAS:

Jill: Possibly a thread where the baby doll breaks and she rushes it to the doctors where they scoff at her, and one of the other girls volunteers to treat ~~fix~~ the doll. Another idea would be for the girls to set her up on a blind date, and seh brings the doll with her and tells them that she is a mother. Just lots of threads in general actually because I love this idea.

Clara: A tea party thread with Clara as the guest of honor because that would be so cute. Maybe a dress up thread where she lets the other girls dress her up in in all sorts of costumes. Oh oh oh, a game of hide and seek and they never find her because she looks so much like a doll that she blends in with all of them xD.

ANYTHING ELSE: Hmmmm, well I'm in love with this plot idea....lol.

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Last Edit: Mar 10, 2013 19:44:24 GMT -5 by Anna Banana

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Sarella Capitol Resident [M:-860] 1,187 POSTS last seen Mar 11, 2024 9:34:11 GMT -5	s h a t t e r e d ★ the dollhouse Mar 10, 2013 18:53:54 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Sarella on Mar 10, 2013 18:53:54 GMT -5 FIRST CHOICE: Alice SECOND CHOICE: Jill CHARACTER IDEAS: WIPWIPWIP WRITING SAMPLE: WIPWIP PLOT IDEAS: WIP ANYTHING ELSE: It's 3am o.o [/color][/blockquote][/justify]