cleolinda: (galadriel doll)
[personal profile] cleolinda
So, last time we looked in on The Shelf, Anna lost her mind, made herself an anti-vampire tinhat, and got herself dumped by a fed-up Elizabeth. The intervening days have not been any kinder to her sanity; at one point I had to wrestle my mother’s rosary from her ("SHE GOT THAT FROM A NUN IN TUSCALOOSA!" “YOU’RE NOT CATHOLIC!”). In the course of The Littlest Edward organizing my jewelry, a number of old bits and pieces turned up, and Anna ended up running off with a silver earring that had lost its hook. It was, of course, a cross; she dug up some dental floss to string it on.




 "If only Van Helsing were here," she grumbled. "He would understand."

"Look, you are not going to have any stupid hookups while you’re on the rebound, and besides, he’d have to take a number on my shopping list at this point. Behind John Connor, at that."

 Of course, The Littlest Edward only got more depressed. "I can smell her fear," he said gloomily. "Smells like spearmint."

"Does it work at all?" I asked. "The tinhat?"

 "Somewhat," he admitted. "I can’t hear distinct thoughts anymore. I just get a general sense of crushing rage."

"Psssht. I get that just from looking at her."

Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to keep Elizabeth from getting lonely; she and Anna hit it off so quickly that I’m not sure she put enough effort into making other friends. A friend sent me a box of Mardi Gras booty (I have a strong magpie streak), so I had Elizabeth help me incorporate it into my existing collection. I mean, she’s a pirate king; I’m sure she knows her way around a treasure chest. And Purple Arwen, who enjoys a good piece of jewelry herself, came over to help us, so that was nice.

(I offered to let Edward sort the doubloons by color, but he seemed uneasy about this proposition, so I let him go back to adding up my spare change.




Eowyn wanted to go over and help him, but he was so uncomfortable with that prospect that I ended up dragging her back to the booty.)




Meanwhile-meanwhile, the guys felt compelled to put on manifest displays of masculinity, what with spring being the time when a young man’s fancy turns to love and/or showing up sparklepires, I guess. Between (among?) four guys, they had a substantial stockpile of weapons—plenty to start up a good mock war with. Apparently Faramir Two decided it would be "boring" if the Faramirs just fought the Aragorns, so they swapped up and Faramir One ended up taking a solid beating at the hands of his brother (brotherself?), mostly because he spent too much time looking over his shoulder to see if Eowyn had noticed his mansomeness yet. She did at least a couple of times, although I kind of wanted to shake her because she's visibly torn between the handsome, strapping Ranger of Ithilien who’s crazy about her and the eternal seventeen-year-old half her size WHO DOESN’T EVEN CARE. What IS that? Is it just that she thinks that he could care someday in some crazy alternate universe, and that his hypothetical future caring would be worth more because she had to "earn" it? Or because she’s just intrigued by what the caring of a gloomy joyless whiny brooding loner like him would possibly be like seriously, E, I can't even tell you what a lost cause this is? Is it just that the sparkle is always greener on the other side? I’d tell Faramir to act more like Edward and play hard to get, but I’m afraid that’d backfire like whoa and it’d be all my fault. And also, I don't think he has the hair for it.

Finally, though, Eowyn left the girls to their booty-sorting and came over and asked if she could cut in and fight some, which was a GIGANTIC RELIEF to me, let me tell you. So Fugagorn handed over his crooked sword (bless) and took a time-out on the sidelines with me.

"You’d think the whole thing with the mantle would have Faramir sitting pretty," he said, shaking his head. Over on the battlefield, Faramir Two looked over, waved, and took an elbow to the head from Faramir One. "I mean, that was a pretty sweet move right there."

I sighed. "Well, the heart wants what it wants, I guess. Even if what it wants is stupid." And for some reason, I couldn’t help adding: "Or taken."

"Oh, you mean the other Faramir?" he said, which startled the hell out of me. "He’s cool."

"Really? I mean—you know?"

"Yeah. He’s a nice guy. And, you know, I’m kind of used to... you know, crushes and things... by now." We will forgive him for sounding a little puffed-up about this, given that he's so thoroughly outclassed now in the looks department. "Besides, he’s still less obvious than Eowyn ever was."

Sigh.


(More from the Secret Life of Dolls; fan community)


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Date: 2009-03-16 11:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cleolinda.livejournal.com
You know those big Victorian-style porcelain dolls that scare people? It's one of those. It's like three feet tall, completely hand-made, the dress and hat completely hand-sewn, all by a friend of my mother's who makes dolls--as a hobby, I think? I've had it for like fifteen years. I just try not to let her show up in any of the pictures, because I think it would freak some of the doll-phobic people out.

Date: 2009-03-16 11:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elisa0984.livejournal.com
Oh I wanted one of those when I was younger. She was this really pretty brunette in blue.

Thanks!

Date: 2009-03-16 11:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] apocalypticbob.livejournal.com
But she could enter the story like some crazy Victorian Godzilla...like a lace encrusted Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man!

*giggles madly*

Date: 2009-03-16 11:39 pm (UTC)

Date: 2009-03-17 01:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] emmaorgana.livejournal.com
That would be the most amazing, scariest thing EVER.

ALSO AWESOME.

Date: 2009-03-16 11:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] viorica8957.livejournal.com
Oh, I love those dolls! I used to have two of them, but my cousins ended up breaking them both.

Date: 2009-03-17 01:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mokeyhokey.livejournal.com
Oh my god, my Aunt Josephine was crazy so she had two dolls like that and pretended they were her twin daughters. Hers were made of plastic and looked like they were from the 50s or 60s, though. When she got older and crazier she gave one a "haircut" because she was having trouble telling them apart.

I collected dolls for a while as a teen so I somehow got the crazy mutilated one after she died. I have a few porcelain dolls and was well used to their creepy frozen faces by that point, but even still, that thing terrified me. I eventually had to bury it in the corner of my closet, facing the wall like it was on a time out.

Date: 2009-03-17 04:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] acaciakitty.livejournal.com
I sincerely thank you for that.

*shudders*

I love TSLD, because they are more like figurines than dolls, really. But the other type... Oh jeez. I can not even tell you the crippling fear I have of them.

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