Ask and you shall receive.

Just not yet. :P

Little Jouet's tracking number finally started to work, but she seems to be moving as slow as possible. Generally packages do most of their moving during the earlier part of the day, so by the mid-morning or afternoon they are set. For some reason though Jouet moved this afternoon and remains about two towns over. I hope to get up early and find that her tracking has updated and I can pick her up in the AM, but we'll see.

Finally got Kaleb back together after he was in pieces for some eye issues. Arte stole his springs (for his eyelids) because hers were too old and at the time I was playing with her more. Now he has his eyes back (which Arte also stole for a time) and is all set. I was putting him on the shelf with Arte and Kat and I realized he didn't have his Chain of Anubis. I often joke that Kaleb is the strongest of my dolly characters and has the most frequently voiced "opinions." All I could hear was his voice in my head saying "You lost the chain of Anubis?!" Thankfully I found it and dolly Armageddon was averted.

I do have some new pictures of Arte to upload as well, but I currently can't find my camera cord...so perhaps there will be shots of Arte and Jouet tomorrow.

Packages, boxes, and bags.

Two of the packages arrived yesterday, containing a lovely Barbie bed for Arte and two pairs of fuzzy boots. For right now the bed's going into storage as I don't have a place for it in my current situation, but the boots are on her feet and look great. They need a little coaxing to fit just right, but with a pair of socks they work well.

No updates on my little Jouet yet. :( For some reason they shipped her through the USPS instead of Fedex as they normally do (and I prefer). I've been checking tracking but still nothing. Oh where oh where is my little Jouet?

Kat has settled in to my dolly collection quite nicely. I washed her hair for the second time today and I think I finally got out all the gunk. She's currently borrowing some stock Hellcat Punks clothes from both Maggie and Kaleb (i.e. Phoebe and Kain). I think I'm going to remove her tail from the back of her skirt and put it on elastic or something similar as it's so cute I don't want her to be without it.

I actually go back to school tomorrow, but I hope the week is also filled with packages arriving. Two new pairs of shoes, a bed, and some stock outfits for Arte. More pictures to come soon too. :)

Cleaned out my camera and look what I found.

Magpie Williams

A Purrrfect New Adition

I decided to take a trip today to my local comic/anime store. I hadn't been to it in years, and was curious to see what they had. So Arte and I ate lunch and headed off to the city. Overall it wasn't bad, but definitely not what it used to be. Now it mostly caters to the COM* of the community, and really doesn't have the selection I used to love. One good point however was that I stumbled on their collection of Bleeding Edge Goth dolls and brought one of my very own home!

NRFB, but not for long!

Introducing Katerina Moreau.

Kat and Arte.

Pretty eyes... :) I'm very pleased with her overall. Right now she's visiting the "salon" (getting all the gunk out of her hair and conditioning it). I think my favorite part is that she's kind of like a mini me doll. I go by Kat and have black hair (no green eyes though), and am covered in dog/wolf tattoos. This Kat is kind of like a fun little counterpart, and let me just say she is even more beautiful in real life. I'm happy with her size too because it means she will be able to be part of Arte's world. One of Arte's gothic friends I think, more details to come.

*creepy old men

New Doll er...Dal

I was browsing through PullipStyle the other day as I do sometimes when I'm feeling dangerous...and I spotted the most adorable little Dal. I'm not super fond of the minis in general, but there are a few that I plan to own. Well really two, this one and Little Noir. I had kind of a funky week and decided to splurge and purchase the little one as she's not a lot of money.

Isn't she cute? She's a mini version of a very limited and rare Dal that was only sold at the Doll Carnival. I'm not about to pay $800+ to own the original (ebay prices...eek), and her size is just perfect for tooling around town with me.

It has however made me stop and think about the fact that all my female Pullips have pink eyes of some sort. Maggie is a Phoebe who has stock pink chips, and I just rechipped Arte (Nero) into some pink Coolcat chips with a black foil backing. Kaleb has red chips so he's different, but that's it. I know neither Butler (future Taeyang) nor Marguerite (future Pullip) will have pink chips, so that at least is reassuring.

In comparison I'm only mildly addicted.

I am the only dolly person in my family/group of friends, so more often than not I hear "OMG you have so many dolls!" While at times it may seem that way, it's not really the case. Currently I have three Pullips* and five bjds. I'm in the midst of phasing the bjds out some since they have turned out to be less my thing (although still fun), but I will be keeping some. So I have basically three active dolls that I currently take pictures of and go with me places. There are two more Dals on layaway currently, but they're special customs, and I will be getting a Little Dal sometime next week.

That being said, I do have a definite number of Pullips I think I'd like to own. I have a hard time owning dolls without story lines, and currently Kaleb has taken over any storyline my dolls will have. He's a little overpowering. :P As such I believe I will be getting one more Taeyang, and another Pullip. I do like the Taeyang's character but not as much the Pullip's, so we'll see. She is just there for the storyline (for photostories) and I'm not sure I want to spend the money if that's the case. So that means four Pullips* plus the customs and the mini.

Not enough that I need to build another room or anything, but the collection is growing.

*I put all the dolls under the Pullip name here, so my Taeyang and Dal are there too.

Dolly Talk: Nero Review

I've missed doing Dolly Talk* quite a bit, though time doesn't always allow for it. Since I've also not done much in the way of reviews, I thought I'd combine the two for my first DT in a long time.

As you can see in the Muses section of the blog, my newest doll is Arte, a Pullip Nero. She was released back in May of 2004, and I first became acquainted with her on Requiem Art's All My Pullips. After realizing she was actually quite stock, I came up with some dolly funds and bought her off PullipStyle.

Stock clothes: Nicely made and I like the accessories quite a bit (sunglasses, purse, white boots), but my Arte will probably not wear a lot of her stock. The tights and little black panties are pretty cute though, so they will probably be reused. As a note, I rebodied my girl onto a SBH-L body (large chest soft bodied Obitsu) and her stock still fits. The top is a bit tight, but closes correctly and doesn't pull the fabric too much.

Stock faceup: This was the biggest selling point for me as I loved her soft makeup and pale lips. I prefer softer lips on my dolls, and this was just perfect. I will say that mine came with a lot of extra dirt/spots on the face up although she was NRFB. Just the age I think.

Stock body: I was fully prepared to hate her stock body as I did with Maggie's, but it's actually not so horrible. I did immediately order her an Obitsu, but the few days that she was on her stock body weren't too bad. Pretty floppy and definitely not great for standing, and the staining/yellowing was horrible. She had the traditional tummy pop and melt from the two plastics coming in contact, but I actually liked the softness of her body.

Stock wig: Pretty, but in the worst condition of any doll wig I've ever received. I washed and condition it probably ten times or more, and it still was horrible. No amount of fixing was going to help so I just gave up and got her a new one.

Stock eyechips/mech: Worst. Eyemech. Ever. I had heard these were a pain in the butt to change, but I never thought it would be quite so bad. It took me forever! I had a hard time getting her wig and scalp off because the glue had aged so much, and even the eye chips themselves yellowed. I have since re-chipped her with some CoolCat chips that look great, but I dread opening her up again.

Overall I'd have to say I'm happy with my purchase, and I love Arte, but I would caution those purchasing older dolls. If you're not getting them to remain NRFB, keep in mind there will be some (many) defects. I'm pretty familiar with customizations on Pullips as well as other dolls, and I was still pretty challenged. However, the older dolls to have a charm all their own, so if you want a challenge, go for it!


*Dolly Talk was a feature on my old blog for doll-related posts of all kinds.

Moving Content Over: Interview with a Vampire Part II-Kaleb

Me: So tell me about your sire.

Kaleb: Ah yes, good old Micah. *laugh* He was a European vampire, and a complete court-bound fop.

Me: That’s not very nice.

Kaleb: Perhaps, but it’s also true. If I may, let me start by explaining something about vampire culture.

Me: By all means, you are the expert here.

Kaleb: Thank you. If you look back at the living habits of the earliest vampires, you’d find that unlike those of today they lived and moved in relative solitude. One or two vampires might be able to feed on a town unnoticed, but any more would surely bring the wrath of angry people down upon them. As such, at that time you’d see maybe two or three at the most living together.

Me: That makes sense I suppose.

Kaleb: Then an Italian vampire named Pietro di Angelo reorganized his own “children” into a communal group that became known as a coven. When anyone was added to his bloodline they were expected to swear allegiance to him and his court. Pietro was a very powerful and old vampire, and was considered a “founding father” of sorts for our species. So when he created this new system, it spread quickly through all the powerful vampire groups.

At the time I was turned, this coven-culture was well established and revered. Few vampires could or would exist outside of it, and my sire was no exception. Micah was a blood-descendant of Pietro, and that was really his only saving grace. He was a weak and foolish man, but very powerful blood ran through those veins.

I stumbled upon his court after I was enticed by one of his many female “lures,” and made my proposition. Micah liked me, though if it was for my power or my face I’m not sure. However, either way he turned me and held the traditional covening ceremony.

Me: I wouldn’t expect you to be the kind of person to submit to that.

Kaleb: And you’d be right. When it came time for me to swear the sacred oaths, I refused. Micah was livid, he tried to force me using what little power he had, but I was much too strong. I would not submit to anyone, especially not one as weak as he. So I left and never returned. Later Micah swore he had banned me, but the truth was plain for all those that knew me.

Me: So that’s why you two don’t get along? Do you ever run across one another?

Kaleb: Yes, and infrequently. We both try to avoid each other as much as possible. In private he continues to invite me back, but I have always refused. I am my own man, and nothing else.

Moving Content Over: Interview with a Vampire Part I-Kaleb

Kaleb enjoyed his pictorial interview yesterday enough that he wanted to come back and do another today, though more on the serious side. So I sat down with him this evening and let him talk.

Me: So you mentioned rather bluntly yesterday that you are a vampire, and were born in the late 1600′s. How old are you?

Kaleb: Three hundred and thirty-one years old. I was born in 1679 and turned in 1698, two days after my nineteen birthday.

Me: Was this an intentional transition or…?

Kaleb: Completely. I witnessed the Salem witch trials when I was thirteen, and this awoke in me a great fascination with the darkness. I spent the next several years seeking a way to possess such power, and when I turned nineteen I found my sire.

Me: Do you practice magic then, speaking of the witch trials?

Kaleb: Yes, though I should mention that those persecuted during the trials were not witches. That aside, I spent many years after my transformation studying the dark arts. Much of my practice falls under the purview of necromancy, but I’m not a one trick pony.

Me: Do you have any special powers that came with becoming a vampire? Any limitations?

Kaleb: My vampirism helps with my practice of necromancy as it brings me closer to that which I call up, but there are a few other intrinsic benefits. I’m strong and fast, and heal rather quickly. I can also shift my shape to that of a wolf. As for limitations… Garlic is mostly an annoyance due to the heightened sense of smell that comes with being a vampire. Holy weapons like crosses and holy water are more detrimental to younger vampires, but are also somewhat belief-influenced. If you world is ruled by a Judeo-Christian god, then such weapons would seem more frightening. Sunlight is also more detrimental the younger you are, and while I would still die if sent out into direct sun I can survive overcast days.

Me: Do you ever regret your decision?

Kaleb: No, never.

Me: Speaking of which, how do you feel about your blood appetite.?

Kaleb: It’s never bothered me, I was not a squeamish person to begin with and I’ve always seen it as a survival of the fittest situation.

Me: So no moral qualms? What of the “vegetarian” vampires out there?

Kaleb: Everyone is obviously welcome to make their own choices, but I think if you’re going to claim to be more moral you should think about that for a moment. Those vampires see vegetarianism as more reasonable as they don’t eat their own kind. They don’t cause the kind of despair and pain that comes with human deaths. However I have spent time among several wolf packs due to my abilities, and I’ve seen the kind of pain that can be caused by the death of a member. It’s all about perspective.

Me: What do you think of the recent vampire craze and the resulting media frenzy?

Kaleb: It’s annoying, especially when you’re being type-cast if you will as one kind of vampire or another. You’re either an Edward or a Lestat, and Angelus or someone from True Blood. When in reality we are all different. It makes the feat of staying hidden more difficult, and causes a lot of head-shaking.

Moving Content Over: Divination

Moving Content Over: Introduction

Moving Content Over: Le Femme Sorciere

Le Femme Sorciere

Sampson wandered through the darkened streets of Paris, hyper-aware of the shadows that slid past him at each turn. At one corner a prostitute offered him her wares, but it took only a flash of his teeth to make her reconsider. He smiled, amused at how Paris had managed to retain its seedy underbelly even after all these years.

“Some things will never change.”

His reverie was quickly cut short by a stabbing pain in his side that sent tendrils of fire radiating across his abdomen. Sampson cursed and clutched at his stomach, fingers searching through the expensive silk shirt he wore to find some sort of injury. As usual though there were no outward signs of the pain, and no discernible cause.

“Best to let le femme sorciere deal with it.”

He continued on, hand still clutching his throbbing side. A few more turns and he arrived at the French court of Michael. From the outside the building appeared to simply be an old, ornate town house. However Sampson knew that especially with vampires, outward appearances were often deceiving. He was met at the door by two stoic guards, both blood-bound humans.

“I am here to see le femme sorciere,” he said simply. The guards looked at each other and a brief communication passed between the two.

“He is expecting you,” the one to the left of the door said. Sampson didn’t need to ask how he knew; blood-bound humans were open books to their masters. Anything they knew he knew, and he could easily whisper into their minds as he pleased. The guards opened the large wooden door and let Sampson pass into the house, shutting it solidly after him.

“Sampson, welcome!” A musical voice floated down from the upper floor, drawing Sampson’s eyes up to the balcony.

“Ah Michael, thank you for having me. You’re doing well I hope?”

“Yes indeed, Paris is lovely this time of year. Please, join me.” Sampson made his way up the grand staircase to meet his host. Michael stood a head taller than himself, and was the epitome of dark beauty. His eyes were golden yellow and shone like two moons from beneath the dark cloud of his mahogany brown hair. He smiled revealing two perfectly pointed teeth, the mark of his kind.

“So my friend, tell me what has brought you here.” He clapped a hand on Sampson’s shoulder and the two strolled through the upper floor.

“Well…I’m not really sure. The pain started several months ago, after I fed on a young woman from Rome. Since then it has haunted me after every feeding and sometimes for no reason at all. At first I thought poison, but now…I’m afraid I may be cursed.” Absentmindedly his hand sprung to his side again though the pain did not return.

“The Nightingale will be able to help you,” he said with absolute confidence. “She is very skilled.”

“Indeed, I have heard as such. The French court calls her le femme sorciere, a name usually reserved for their own magicians. So for a foreigner to be given that title…”

“Yes, her fame has spread far and wide. I can hardly keep her to myself anymore.” Something in Michael’s voice suggested that statement held much more desperation than he intended, but Sampson said nothing.

The two men soon arrived at a door that was simply marked with a fleur de lis. Michael knocked softly and a quiet voice responded from within.

“Come in.” Michael opened the door and ushered his friend in. Sampson took in the room wide-eyed, surprised at the number of candles that burned on every available surface. Sweet-smelling herbs and various charms hung from the ceiling, and vines wound their way across the beams. Michael’s voice stirred him from his reverie.

“Sampson, may I introduce the lady Orla. She is the one you know as le femme sorciere.”

Sampson turned to find his friend standing next to a young woman, a child even. His shock quickly turned to anger as the pain in his side rose again with a vengeance.

“What foolishness is this Michael? Bringing me to some child for assistance?!” Sampson knew the moment the words left his mouth that he had made a mistake. Michael’s expression immediately turned dark, his eyes narrowing dangerously. At his age there was much he could do without even moving, and Sampson could feel a threatening charge in the air.

“Old friend,” he growled, “le femme sorciere is not just some child as you so callously suggested. Her own power is beyond what you can even conceive. That notwithstanding, I do not take kindly to visitors insulting my lady.”

“Hush now Michael,” the girl said placing a calming hand on his arm. “The poor fellow is in pain and frightened, it is no wonder he would lash out even so foolishly. Such a small transgression is hardly worth your anger.” The air eased and Michael seemed to relax, casting a favoring gaze to his female companion.

“Ah mi amour, you are right. Forgive me Sampson; I am simply a overly testy when it comes to my little nightingale.” He flopped comfortably into a nearby chair, exuding the sense of a predator at rest.

“No problem my friend,” Sampson said nervously and descended into a chair himself.

Orla ignored her seat and instead walked over to greet him. She looked young, but there was an ethereal, old-world beauty that showed her to be far beyond his initial assumption.

“Many pardons my lady.”

“Think nothing of it Sampson, an animal will strike in desperation, even against those it should fear. You have been carrying this pain for some time yes?” Her mesmerizing grey-blue eyes looked deep into his person, seeming to touch the very soul within.

“Yes my lady, I feasted on er…bit a Roman girl.” Orla smiled wryly at his slip of tongue.

“She is used to our language Sampson,” Michael said with a chuckle. “You needn’t worry about offending her in that way.”

“Ah yes well…I bit the Roman girl and since then have felt pain when I feed. At first I thought it was poison but now…”

“A curse,” Orla whispered, her eyes glowing like the full moon. “The child was the daughter of a wealthy family; they paid someone to curse you for killing their little girl.” Her gaze seemed to rest on his face and pass through him at the same time. After a moment she shook her head and stepped back to where Michael stood.

“Orla is gifted with strong sight,” the elder vampire said. “Past, present, and future are all under her command.”

“Please Michael, I do hate it so when you exaggerate my abilities,” Orla said but she smiled. “I can help you Sampson, but it will not be easy and painless. I daresay the family was justified in their cursing, so that will make this more difficult. Are you willing to do as I say, whatever it takes?”

Sampson stared at Orla, taking in everything around him in his search for an answer. Here was a girl, albeit a powerful one at the side of a great vampire, but still a girl asking him to obey. It was the pain in his side that finally made the decision for him.

“Yes my lady.”

“Good. Michael, would you entertain him for a bit while I get things ready?”

“Of course mi amour,” he said rising from his seat. The two shared a moment before Orla stepped into the other room, and Sampson was shocked to hear Orla call Michael by his first name. No one called “The French Knight” by anything other than his epithet or Michael. Shaking his head in disbelief Sampson closed his eyes and relaxed against the chair waiting.

~

Sampson awoke suddenly; unaware he had even been asleep. For a moment he was disoriented by the glowing light that surrounded him and the multitude of smells.

“Ah, you’re awake my friend. I was just coming to rouse you.” Michael leaned against the door frame leisurely, sipping a small glass of dark liquid. “Orla is ready for you.”

Sampson nodded and rose, still slightly confused but willing to follow Michael. The two passed through the doorway and entered into a smaller room that was dark except for the moonlight that came in from the balcony. Orla stood in the center and had changed into a long flowing white dress whose skirt billowed out around her.

“She will not speak except for that which is required in the ritual. The power is on her now.”

Sampson noticed that there was a pentacle drawn on the floor which his nose told him was drawn in blood. Perhaps the same liquid that had been in Michael’s glass, though no victim was in sight. Then he caught sight of a bandage on Orla’s right wrist and the blood made sense: an offering.

She motioned for him to come closer and he joined her in the center, stepping gingerly across the blood lines. Once there he felt a power overtake him and the pain in his side raged. Orla turned to him, eyes glowing like the moon again and placed a hand on the afflicted side. Her fingers pushed aside his shirt and brushed the skin before the palm came to rest flat.

She drew her hand away slowly, and with it came a silvery glow. The light seemed to be attached to her fingertips, and yet it fought against the pull. The air grew thin and a low wail pierced the silence of the night. The pain was excruciating, and Sampson found himself falling to his knees.

When Orla had extracted the whole of the glow, it shifted and formed into the likeness of a young woman. Her eyes were dark holes, and her mouth opened wide into a howl. In his delirium Sampson could hear some semblance of words coming out of her wail.

“Una maledizione per una vita,” she moaned, “A curse for a life!”

Orla was chanting under her breath, eyes never leaving the specter.

“Hecate, great dark Crone I call you now. Open your doors, release your hounds…”

Another howl was heard, but this time from beyond the confines of the room. It echoed through Sampson, shaking him to the core. All he could see now was the glowing face of the girl and the descending darkness.

“Now Sampson…speak, repent, banish her!” Orla turned to him wild-eyed and he felt moved from the depths of his soul.

“Lady…lady I am sorry. Please, forgive me now and rest.” He shook as he yelled, and tears coursed down his cheek. He could feel all the pain and sorrow of her death weighing down upon him, the horror of her demise and the pain of her family. Then suddenly, it lifted. The frightening howl came again and a darkness whisked the glow away into the night air.

“Perdonato, forgiven,” a whisper came to his ear before the room returned to normal.

~

Early the next evening Sampson sat with his hosts in the house’s sun room. They had all slept the day away, both he and Orla were exhausted from the night’s magic. She sat comfortably next to Michael on a large plush sofa, wrapped loosely in a silk shawl.

“I cannot thank you enough my lady for freeing me of this curse.” Again his hand strayed to his side, but for the first time in months there was no pain. “Truly, you have given me my life back.”

“You are welcome Sampson, but my actions were as much for you as they were for that girl. When her parents cursed you they trapped their daughter within that act, denying her the chance to move on. In breaking that vengeful connection I freed not only you, but her as well.”

Sampson nodded, still somewhat in awe of Orla. Michael said nothing but a small knowing smile played across his lips.

“Indeed. Well thank you both for your help and hospitality.” With the pleasantries finished, Sampson bade goodbye to his hosts and made his way back into the dark Parisian night. Turning back once he saw Orla standing out on the balcony, her frame light by the waning moon. Somewhere behind her was Michael, unseen but for the glimmer of his fangs in the light. Sampson shook his head, still not sure what to make of the whole experience but quite ready to test out his new health.

“Perhaps my lady awaits,” he said with a chuckle to the night, heading back to the prostitute’s alley.

[All characters and story lines are property of Ms. Elise/The Vessel and its creator, please do not use or reproduce!]

In the beginning...

I was never a doll person as a child. Give me stuffed animals or plastic ponies, but keep those dolls away! I had one baby doll I played with on occasion, and owned several truly evil porcelain dolls (really, who gives those to a young child?), but that was it. I would occasionally play with Barbies at a friends house, but to put it simply, I just didn't get it. Now I look back on that and laugh. Here I am surrounded by my doll collection and I'm "not a doll person."

While I didn't like the dolls themselves, doll stories of the mythological or ghostly variety have always fascinated me. Perhaps it was the influence of the aforementioned porcelain dolls that made it so easy to believe they had their own mind. Certainly when I was younger I would swear they moved during the twilight times, despite any actual evidence. So later when I read that dolls were often used as vessels to trap spirits, it wasn't really a stretch.

For me dolls are vessels as well, but of a different variety. Every piece of art has its own "soul" that the maker bestows upon it in the act of creation. This goes for dolls as well, perhaps especially because they are so empty to begin with. I know that my own dolls embody their "souls" in a very evident way when I create for them, and it is that embodiment I hope to share through this blog. Feel free to click around and check out the dolls, pictures, written work, and other pieces of art here that are vessels filled.