The Doll Project (Misery Blue x Soses-fighter007)

Snow. It fell in flurries outside his window, the tint of the flakes ashen. It wasn't normal snow anymore; now it had all turned gray. The land had quit being purified by the swirling snowfall's constant dance as the black smoke combined with innocent white.


In this world, it was all different. The sun had been blocked out by humanity's cruel punishment and everything that had once struggled to remain had been stripped from the ground. Pollution was consistent, even fueled by the beings who wandered the broken world. They needed heat, and heat made smoke, and smoke made it worse. Mistakes and grievances kept on circling round and round, killing more and more each time full circle was achieved.


The trees were dead, too, their gnarled trunks marking each stage of painful twisting and turning towards sunlight. Their branches hung over the laboratory as if guarding it, a large, lone building amid a forest with no density. This made it so that there really was nowhere to hide. There was only the option to run, but how far could you go when your lungs weren't very perfect? He often did wonder.


He pulled the gas mask over his face, shading it from the gray snow. Slowly he shrugged on his white lab coat, taking his time to button it, in no rush. He'd allow her to lie there, as he often imagined her doing, every breath burning those imperfect lungs of hers. He would be sure to call up the corporation and ask them for a new pair. He couldn't work with damaged ones. With a steady gate, he walked out of Storm Peak Laboratory and climbed aboard his snowmobile, a gift from the company of course, and inserted a key into the ignition to get going. Searching for his doll would be quite easy with an efficient machine like this.

The noise was the first to cut through the silent, snowy landscape, the snowmobile itself following soon after. By now, he already knew where the radius of usual escapades ceased and followed along the imaginary circle the mathematical fact made in his head. He knew the land well, thanks to his doll, and used the knowledge to mark off points where she could be. The snow continued to fall steadily, making it only a little difficult to see far out. At least it wasn't a blizzard, although he knew those violent snowfalls would sorely prevent her from even going out. Her clothing was elegant, chosen to go well with her own design, just like a little barbie doll. What it lacked was actual protection against the snow, of course. He was smart enough to not give her what she wanted, to keep his mask and his keys hidden and locked up. The doctor was a genius, in fact, which is why she existed in the first place. He wanted her to take that into account more often, but the desire, how ever sorely wished for, seemed to fly right past her. Even so, he viewed it as perfection, for if she had no spirit, she would not even resemble a human.


He imagined her again amid the snow, her purity stained by the increasingly graying flakes as she lay there. It was as if the world was eating away at her innocence, but he would be sure to fix it. A fresh pair of lungs, fingers and toes if she ever caught a case of frostbite out there. Her bones had grown frail, something he had to fix within her diet, along with other changes that were to be made. A handful for really anybody out there, though she was his creation. Precious, rare, and increasingly flawless.


Soon enough, he managed to spot her. He had not turned on the lights of the snowmobile to look for her, for it was pointless to do such a thing within the afternoon. He knew that she had gone out when it had still been dark, somewhere right before he would usually wake up. Only beginning to search for her now had wasted experimentation time, though it had given him plenty of hours to analyze and record. He loved keeping files on her, lovingly writing down every single thing he did to her within log after log. He had filled out so many pages that he had lost track of time. He knew she must have been freezing when he saw her and cut the engine a ways away in order to walk over and get her, but then she actually went ahead and pulled herself up. Those joints of hers looked stiff from the cold, her movements so subtle that she barely kept moving forward. It was certainly a sight to see.


For a time, she was able to move. The effort was astounding and he couldn't help but simply watch, allowing her a chance to get a way, a chance to leave and see the world, watch as men or women ate their families out of sheer desperation, stare upwards at large, concrete stilts which held wondrous gold cities up so much higher than the smoke which lingered over everybody else's lives, feel her perfection slowly deteriorating as a result of lack of nutrition, her lungs not nearly good enough to support her, her body not crafted to make her a survivor. Still, she didn't leave him. She couldn't leave him, just as he had wanted. Watching her go had almost instilled a paralyzing fear within him, had allowed him flashbacks of the terror of the world beyond. The panic left him when she collapsed in the snow, the coldly warm flakes settling all over her again.


He went to her and leaned down, his knee digging into the gray while his gloved hand reached down to brush a cluster of snow from that perfect, porcelain skin of hers. Just like a doll's, cold to boot. It had gone firm from the cold, as if turning into china. He reached down and picked her up, pressing her to him. His eyes watched as her delicate lashes fluttered, those unnatural blue eyes gazing at him, knowing. A smirk covered his face at her groan, as if he were a parent who had caught her sneaking out. But, it was different, he knew. A creator and father were not the same, for a creator had complete control around his creation. He determined her lifetime; no one else ever could. "You're safe, Lulu," he murmured to her, "The world is much too cold to you. Let's go back home, doll..."


Gently, he placed her on his snowmobile and climbed on behind her, curling his arms around her before steering them back home. They were back in almost no time and he grabbed her up again, getting the door open. He carried her back to her room, having no problem with undressing her from her clothes where melted snow still hung. He tucked her in naked, piling on several blankets and framing her body with some pillows for maximum amount of warmth before going to get some hot packs for that freezing skin of hers. He left her a note:


A meal is waiting downstairs. When you wake up, I want you to get dressed and come down. You must be weak from the little escapade you pulled. Be happy you're warm and safe back home, happier still that I'm giving you any food at all. I'm glad you are alright; I'll check for frostbite later. That's the best the world will ever be to you, doll, a cold, cold place. The winter will never stop, which means that the world will never allow you to go. Just stay, Lutka. Stay. I'll make it better.


Always for the best,


Dr. I

Before Lulu came down, he had prepared her food for her. It was not simple food, of course, packed with every single necessary nutrient she needed to live. Her body may have been carefully composed to act as a human's, but there were things he just could not make it do. The body was much more complex than that, though she was at least very similar. He made sure to add more calcium supplements, wondering if it would be too much to ask for bone fragments as well as a pair of lungs on the very same day. Well, he'd merely have to find out, wouldn't he? His doll's bones were designed to be small but strong, the latter part of this not having been perfected yet. The doctor got up, leaving her plate on the table as he went to get her records. He had always organized things and would make sure that the inside became just flawless as the outside. It was the entire purpose of this, always something that the human race had been aiming towards.


As he was coming back, he saw her at the table. She was picking at her food, of course, which made him a little wary with where he put the pills and such that she needed. He noticed the smile, it perplexing him greatly. Usually she wasn't so happy to each such bland food. When she let out that adorable little squeak, he wanted to rush over and fret over his doll, though knew it wouldn't do her any good. He just backed up into the shadows of the next room, wanting her to have learned her lesson. If he was any colder about things, he would have let her develop a fever out there in the snow, would have allowed the chilly weather to nip at her limbs until parts of them were of no use to her anymore. She could consider herself lucky that he was nicer than that.


Those clear eyes of hers could easily be able to catch him emerging from the next room, especially from the way she was looking around so much. "What's the matter, doll? Come now, we've gone through this before." He approached her, pushing his glasses up his nose, trying to give her to most relaxed posture he could. She had easily been able to perceive emotions, most likely the cause of having been given a human brain. He glanced down at her food and pushed the plate closer to her, "You should eat." It made sense to him, that he was constantly taking care of his creation. He loved the way she depended on him for most everything, even though she'd never admit it aloud. "I heard the discomfort, Lutka," he told her with a sharp 'Tsk', "Nije dobro. Not good." He placed his hand on the table as he examined her, those dark green eyes gazing down on her. "I'll have to take a look at that throat when you're done. For now, you eat with it burning like hell. That ought to teach you a lesson of what happens when you try to leave, during such a winter." His head shook, showing his disapproval, "My doll will never learn, will she? What am I to do?"


He then went to the other side of the table, right across from her, and pulled up a chair to sit there. "I'm going to watch you, to make sure you eat everything. It's important. You know you need it, and you'll feel better soon with it traveling through your system. It's hard right now, but I'll make it better. Do you believe me, Lulu? I said I would make it better... You know I will. I just want what's best for you and your survival. Just that, I'm not the bad guy here. You know I'm not. I know you know." Aiden kept reminding her, of everything she knew. Or at least, everything he thought she should know. He never wanted her to forget these words.

He paid attention to her responses, watching how human-like she seemed. That disappointment, combined with that expectation... It was so flawless that he nearly fell for it, nearly quit the usual routine they had in order to comment on it. But, of course not; he was not about to do so, fearing that her assimilation would lead to his awkwardness. He had never felt very strange around his doll, no matter if she didn't like his techniques or rules. Now, it seemed as if she just kept on evolving into the beings he despised most. He wondered if that brain of hers would grow smarter than his, even, which was a peculiar thought. None of these musings were shown on his exterior, naturally, his eyes still watchful over her, his voice still stern as ever. His eyes met hers evenly, for a while anyway. He was just about to look away, but she did so first. That must have meant something, or at least it was all he could hope for.


The silence enveloped them, though he did not squirm beneath it. Instead he sat there as if taking in the quiet like it was energy, obviously pleased by it. The deafening silence around here was his favorite kind of music, his favorite kind of noise. He was stoic, on the outside, showing nothing even as she didn't look very happy. It wasn't his job to keep her happy; his job was to keep her alive. Yet how could something thrive without any happiness, any love? He often wondered. He made a mental note to test this out. Only as an experiment, of course. It wasn't like he actually wanted her happy. Right. Right. He nodded slightly, lost in thought until she began speaking to him. His eyes wandered to her, back over to his flawless doll, studying her, "I don't think you do, doll. Out there, it's all fake. The people, the world, the hope... It's better you don't know a single thing about it." He leaned back in his chair, then, closing his eyes as if exhausted just from telling her these simple yet cryptic things. He liked her voice soft like this. If that throat of hers didn't hurt, he knew it would be higher. Still sweet and beautiful, of course, for he had given her the voice box of one of those famous singers, long dead by now, but more displeased. Towards him. "Now Lutka, I don't want to go out there. But sometimes, I have to. Sometimes, the company that is keeping you alive wants me out there. Everything I do, I do for your own good. Not because I want do." He sounded much more stern than he would have liked and allowed himself a brief moment for his cold voice to melt, "You're too weak for anything at the moment, but I'll make it better. I will. Then maybe I can take you outside somewhere. Okay? Stop trying to get away, things will change. They will."


It was surprising to see that smirk on her face, as if she were smug about something. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at her as she went to eat. She let the silence linger, but this time there was something she wanted to say. He found himself leaning forward, found himself holding his breath in expectation as she wondered what she had to share. His eyes made sure to scan her over several times when she swallowed, wondering how much that throat of hers hurt. "Farther?" This time, only one eyebrow arched upward. His confused expression went away as soon as she told him he was losing. Losing? Failure? His face went a little red while she continued and he finally understand the near random outburst. "Ah... You think it's some type of competition?" He tried to get all cold again, but there was something in his voice. A pitch was off, just a fraction, a pitch that voiced panic. He saw her take that bite and took it the same way, as victory, his mind racing. 15 extra feet, and she was evolving, getting better with things, a new pair of lungs practically on the way. How much farther could she get after that? His blood ran cold just thinking about it. Losing his doll, his creation... It was an unbearable thought.


He looked at her, hardening his gaze, ready to say all the same things to try to make her understand what hell the outside world was... But she ended up surprising him completely. "Feed it to you?" He sounded incredulous, as if completely taken aback. Just before, she had been bragging, showing off her developing independence to him, and now she wanted him to take care of her. "Alright," he said softly, looking at those unnatural eyes, that perfect face giving him such a normal look. His heart nearly melted. He took his chair and pulled it up beside her. "Just this once," he said, a bit sterner. He couldn't believe how fond he was of her, too much attachment over the years seeming to have made him soft. How was it that she could sweep him under the rug like that and then pull him back out so smoothly? It boggled his mind as he took some food from her plate and held it to her lips, "Open up."

OOPH! Lulu

He already knew that she had made the decision here as he tended to her, spooning food into her waiting mouth, but he just couldn't help himself. While she saw it as her victory, he viewed it as his own. He felt as if he relied on this dependence, from time to time, for it was always there. It seemed as if it were the only constant thing that would ever be around as she grew and learned of the world and of her own desires, so he treasured it. This meant that she was still his, which was all he could ask for. He saw the smile from the corner of his eye but didn't return it, his skin still prickling from the way she had reminded him of her small triumph. "You really are something else," he murmured, unsure if he was pleased or dismayed by his own words as he spoke them. She was right about all the competition, however, but he didn't let show that he knew. Even so, he could tell that she was able to sense it. As if she was actually human.




The usual reaction to a trip down to the lab was there which whispered that some things never changed, not even for the inevitable. He picked up the plate, having made sure that not even a single speck was left, and placed it in the dishwasher before glancing behind him, making sure she could walk. Any type of change with her gait and he would already know that something needed to be fixed. She didn't seem to be in pain while she went, a relieving fact. Maybe he wouldn't have to ask Flowered for too much after all. He watched as she hung the blanket up where his lab coat was, drying from the snow that had covered it a while ago. It was as if she was trying to prove something. He simply shrugged it off and layered the metal table thoroughly, every little edge covered by the sheet. In his mind's eye, he could remember the way her cold skin had felt against his hand. Just like a doll's would be. The thought made him crave the similarity all over again, and briefly he wondered just how frozen she would feel if he turned down the thermostat. So lifeless, not like a human at all... He snapped out of his thoughts when she climbed up onto the examination table and refocused, turning his attention to his human doll.


It went well, he would say. Her throat was damaged indeed, the lining irritated by the pollution. Her lungs must not have been very happy either and he checked her breathing, noticing that what once had been a tiny little sound had grown. Obviously, he would need to get her a new pair before she quit breathing altogether. Perhaps his perfection herself didn't realize that her lungs were bad, which was just fine by him. His hands itched to open her up again, to perfect the inside. He moved down her body, checking her fingers and arms, and a half hour had passed already when he was studying her feet. He froze as a voice talked. An actual human voice, which made his blood run cold. Slowly he stood and turned, keeping a protective stance in front of the table. His hand wanted to reach back and touch his doll, relieve his own tensions with the comfort of someone known, but he realized who it was. He had seen this uniform before, at all those meetings Flowered, Inc had made him attend. His eyebrow raised towards the man, wondering why he was even here.


"Yes," he replied with an even tone, even as he shifted uncomfortably. He did not like the way this man looked through his reports, the ones that were on the desk freshly written. His ears picked up the rustle of the sheet as she got up from the table. He did not look back, simply continuing to stand his ground and unsure of what to tell this seemingly arrogant man. All he could do was push up his glasses and try to look as relaxed as was possible. This, of course, only made him look awkward. When her elbow settled atop his shoulder, he was coaxed to relax at least a little by it, shoulders slumping so that her posture could go easier. He looked at her, right before she fell. His eyes widened at the expression on her face and he turned to face her, kneeling down without hesitation to examine her. His hands ran over her, checking for any sorts of injuries, watching her face to make sure that she wasn't feeling any pain. He paid no mind to the man, not anymore, naturally much more fond of his slatka (sweet) doll than of him. When she managed to stand back up, he quit fretting over her and turned back to the man himself. He forced himself to be rid of any facial expressions, going back to a stoic demeanor.


As the man talked, Aiden held still. He even kept himself from shrinking back when the man came closer, which was an accomplishment in his eyes. Only his mind seemed active at that point, thinking it over. Another scientist? With another doll? Well this scientist, whoever he or she may be, was off to a late start. He was just feeling smug, until the man began to speak of purpose. Purpose? Was there one? He glanced at his very creation, kept suffocated within his lab, one moment full of grace and the next on the ground, and just kept on wondering. His jaw tightened when the man in the suit went back to his desk, yet again, read over every loving word, some of what was written too fond for its own existence. The doctor made sure to keep the eye contact for as long as was necessary. Somewhere along the way, his arm had snaked around his doll and pulled her to him as if protecting her. His own eyes, darker than usual, stared at the man. "Yes," he replied, his voice more quiet to prevent any emotion from escaping. His grip on her slowly tightened as he tensed, unable to believe it.


"Good," the man gruffly stated before pulling a file out of his jacket, as if out of thing air, "Sign the form, to make sure that you have understood." Aiden himself was much too shook up to even scan the document. He simply signed in his usual messy writing, then allowed the man to be on his way. His other hand never loosened its grasp of her, like letting her go would cause her to disappear. When the man went, he managed to relax. He let go of her and held his face, massaging his temples with just the one hand. His eyes glanced to her when he allowed a grim expression to sink in, "Get back on the table, Lutka. Ignore the man. He is not important." He took a deep breath and managed to compose himself, his mind already racing with the possibilities. He could find a purpose for her, couldn't he? Or, well... There always was a Plan B.

He noticed the way his doll put up a wall as well, just as he did. It was a bit difficult to tell, even though he had been doing the same thing for years around all the same people, but against the odds it seemed the most plausible. Even if this wasn't so, he remained proud. If she was mimicking him and his own stoicism, it meant that she kept on learning. She might even have been looking up to him, which he hoped was the case. He wanted to be an inspiration to her, so that she might someday carry on his memory after he was gone. If she was merely unafraid, it went against human nature. In a case of flight or fight, she would have know better. Based on what he knew of her, it must have been the former, perhaps just a fraction of it. Her human mind would have been a factor, too, of course, being such a powerful mind. He had only given her the best, her personality having shaped about it, having given that brain of hers a real sort of life. He squeezed her side softly, to tell her he was here. A reassuring gesture, meant to soothe her fear. As long as he was around, she would not get hurt. Lutka had to know that, had to see.


When she laid back down, he went to get some more supplies. He was not done yet, of course, and obviously resented the way he had been interrupted while working. He noticed her silence, discomforted by it for it would not be a natural thing. She had just come into contact with a human; of course she would have around a million questions to ask. He turned back to her when she finally began blurting out her questions, shoulders slightly slumped in relief. It was a good thing, he knew. He came over, setting what he needed on the cart beside her, and took her hand for it seemed like the only way to offer assurance. Physically, anyway; what good did his repetitive words give her? He remembered the little experimentation on happiness that he had wanted to attempt and squeezed her delicate hand, sighing softly, "We will be alright, Lulu. It means that we are going to have to-" She managed to figure it out quicker than he could bear to try and explain, so he let her interrupt. He took his hand away and turned, trying to look busy as he toyed with the items on the cart. "Yes, that is what he said. I have no idea what type of life form it is, we weren't told." He paused for a moment, eyes down, "Oh I'll get to see it. Just not in the way I would like." When he looked back at her his eyes were darker than usual, as if a storm was brewing behind them.


Aiden nodded silently to her question. He watched her settle back down, though she wasn't still for long. His eyes followed her as she moved about the room as if a mouse stuck in a cage, obviously panicked. He stepped front of her and put his hands on her shoulders, attempting to keep her steady. "Listen: We'll do all we can. I'LL do what I can, in order to protect you. I won't let some arrogant scientist prevent me from keeping you alive. You are meant to be something extraordinary. I know it." He was just about to tell her, just about to reveal his plan of complete destruction when her nail found its way into her mouth. He stared at her, slowly removing his hands from her shoulders. She seemed just as surprised, though it didn't matter. She was lingering away from him, today being the most she had done so, his fear almost freezing him in place. Almost. The fear went away quickly enough, showing the anger boiling underneath. He didn't want her to drift away like this. Yet, he simply could not voice his desperation. He did not want her to know that he depended on her just as much as she depended on him. His expression became one of anger, a rage deeper than was known. Swiftly, he delivered a sharp smack to her hand, his eyes blazing. "Never do that again," he fiercely growled, his reply not a reply at all. With a harsh glare he turned and grabbed his lab coat and disturbed her blanket, leaving her standing there alone as he went up the stairs, the blanket that had been hung up carelessly hitting the ground.

When he saw that expression fall over her face, he knew that she was innocent. It wasn't her fault for showing off the qualities he didn't want; her brain knew of human instinct, human nervousness, and it made her aware of human emotions. He couldn't be mad and yet he was, not wanting to see it. He should have been proud of even the slightest human indication, for it was always what Flowered, Inc. wanted to see. They had such different views, he realized as he walked away, not looking back. He knew he had hurt her, leaving a sting not only on her hand but on her mind. It made him want to come back to her, tell her that he hadn't meant it. That human side would always grow within his doll, which was why he had made her human-like in the first place. He had to remind himself that she wasn't just some human. She was special, she was his creation... He made his way to his study and grabbed a small key from its hiding spot. He sat at his desk and unlocked a drawer, taking out old files of his creation. The written data was everywhere around Storm Peak these days, littering every desk he had, every cabinet which was his.


It took him some time, around 15 minutes, to finish calming down by reading words of the past, his finger gently trailing over the worn paper. It was a few years old, but he still remembered those days. He remembered how he had felt nothing, at first, nothing else than pride and the achievement of a lifetime as he thought it to be when he had made her. He remembered those dark days spent within a much smaller place, designing a creature that would be able to defy it all. Over time, his fondness had grown. He was simply afraid, afraid of her becoming too much of a human to stay with him. When that human brain finally realized what he was really like, she would want to leave for real. Aiden got up, leaving the papers scattered, and put on his lab coat, buttoning it as he walked. "Lutka?" He called, but no sound was made in reply. He searched the floor, but it seemed as though she had not even stepped foot in her room. His footsteps left little echoes as he walked back down the staircase, unable to believe it. She was there, as bare and void of emotion as the day she was created.


"Izvini... Sorry," he whispered as he approached, looking down at her. He could see what she was expecting. A day of the usual experiments, the usual routine. But he couldn't, not today. His brain wouldn't be able to concentrate, not with the looming threat of some scientist having created life. So he simply took her hand again like he had before, noticing the coldness of it. The temperature down here was, of course, lower than the upstairs and she once again reminded him of a doll. He didn't want the lifelessness of it, however; he knew if that had really been what he had wished for, he never would have spent so many months on her ability to think and breathe. He pulled her up, looked at her face for just a moment before leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I hope you can forgive me, precious. I allowed stress to get to me too easily. I know you won't really know how to feel, but... Come on. We have work to do." Without another thought, he swept her up into his arms. He knew she would be confused, but he had a plan. A plan she might love. Something that could be able to make her smile, at least for a moment. The doctor took her all the way upstairs, right to his bedroom. He set her down on the bed, smiled, and took a key from the pocket of his lab coat. He opened his closet door with the key and took out a warm, fuzzy hat. "Here, put this on." He tossed it at her, not too hard, his back still to her as he rummaged through the large closet. Many winter clothes hung on the hooks, some smaller than the others. These were for those time when he wanted her outside, where he would test out her lungs or heart or brain or all the above or anything else against the freezing cold.


He threw many pieces of clothing at her, some of which she had never seen. The snowpants that had been so ugly and constant through his tests weren't around. Instead, jackets, scarves, mittens, and all types of other winter gear now covered every spot they could as he gave them to her. He turned, seeing her there, and nodded to her. "Get dressed. We're going outside." They were meant to check out the labs around here, to see their competition perhaps, but he wanted something else out of this little journey. An experiment on happiness.

She felt so lifeless in his arms, the way she had been when he had first made her come to life. She hadn't done much then but look up at him with those empty eyes of hers, eyes devoid of any emotion. She really had been just like a doll, completely depending on him to do almost everything for her. The early days did not hold many feelings, simply a detachment that she must have also felt. It changed over time as he taught her more and more of the world. He could see the beauty of the planet as he spoke of it, watching how she came to life with such an open mind and heart. Her spirit had all but drained out of her body now, imprisoned in a shell of body parts that seemed as if they had decided to shut down on their own terms.


He could feel those cold, cold eyes digging steadily into his back, but soon they were averted. Aiden turned to watch his doll move towards the window, a stiffness to her movement. It was just like it had been when she was new. Fear gripped his heart at the thought of having lost her, the files strewn all about the room such as on his nightstand or in his dresser seeming all the more important. The progress within those abundant pages was precious. Every day had led to something more, every hour, minute, and second had become important within their routine. She couldn't throw it away, could she, reboot just as a robot was able? He gazed at her, fondness in his eyes while hers held only an abyssmal emptiness. He knew why, wanted to tell her he understood, but there was no point to it. His behavior had been irrational. He just had to keep himself steady around her, or else he'd have even more to deal with than this.


Words could not describe the way he felt when she began to come back. A smile appeared, or at least a shadow of one was there, telling him she wasn't all gone. His icy veins melted away, allowing all to be fine again. He had managed to salvage that which had been left on the table to shrivel away into nothingness. His doll was returning, even as she tried not to show it, her angelic voice singing her excitement aloud. He laughed when she tackled him like that, leaning down just a bit to return her joyous squeeze, and then let her free. It was strange, how he was content with giving her this kind of independence when he was scared of all the other types. Perhaps this one was alright because she was actually happy as she looked through the clothes he had scattered everywhere, the bed dressed with jackets and sweaters, scarves and snowproof pants, hats and gloves. It was different than the way she'd ran away, as if running would let her find independence waiting on the other side of the world. That was only a grasp at happiness, an assumption that it would be better out there. But this, this was something true. An emotion that warmed his heart as he studied her, something twisting on the inside when he was reminded that he just couldn't bear to lose her. And he wouldn't, not to anyone. No matter what.


He smiled and grabbed a jacket and hat himself from the closet, just having picked up a scarf when she took him by the arm. He let himself be led down the stairs, a near crooked smile lighting up his face. He wrapped the scarf he had grabbed around her neck, patting the two long tails before heading off into a different room and telling her to wait there. He wasn't gone for long. He returned with two gasmasks, fitting one over her face. "Can't let those lungs ache," he softly explained, cupping her chin and lifting her head to make sure it was on well. The masks weren't very bulky, a new and improved version of a far future. For the most part, you sounded the same while talking through it. It was only as if you were slightly muffled. He had, of course, made sure to have one for her, wanting to let her silently know that he would always think of her. Aiden put his own mask on, then took her by the hand. He made sure she had gloves on those delicate hands of hers before walking out. "This," he replied, rather late, to her question of what came first. He pushed her without hesitation with the intention to land her on her back. "That's for stealing my favorite hat," he teased, knowing that it was the first item he had given her. He stood over her, grinning, "Alright, now what I want you to do is slowly wave your arms and legs over the snow..." He was going to teach her how to make a snow angel, all a part of the happiness experiment of course. He fell in the gray snow beside her, showing her how to do it as a steady fall of ashes drifted down upon the two, prevented from reaching their faces by only the masks.

He watched her, a sense of joy enveloping him once he saw those pretty blue eyes of hers light up with a smile. His own were just as bright, happy to be distracting himself with activities of the past. These days, no one dared play in the snow. Medication was, of course, expensive as a result of how many people needed it. He noticed her confusion but took it as a good sign, wanting to teach rather than have her knowing it all. He had always taken it as his responsibility to teach her of the world. It was true that he hadn't told her much, though there was always a time to learn. "Just keep going," he simply replied, his green eyes looking up at the dark sky. The pollution had really taken its toll. He doubted that his doll would ever really see the brightness of the sun. The depressing thought did not linger long, for it wasn't as if he himself held the memory very dear. Only the knowledge that it was there, above the smoke stacks, rising over the world. Every time he went to the stilted cities, looking up at that shining sun would remind him of her.


Slowly he stood, dusting the gray snow off of his back with a gloved hand. He stepped towards her, reaching out his hands to grab her, and pulled her up. "Look, Lutka." His voice was warm. A hand was pointed towards the two shapes on the ground. "It is called a snow angel. Just a memory of the past, nothing very important." The way he said it, however, the way the words slightly broke on his tongue... It was clear that he thought of these figures as significant. He looked down with such longing, even crouching. His hand trailed over the imprint she had left. A recollection of old memories flooded his head and made it hard to properly see, as if a moment of blindness had occurred. His mirthless smile faded away with the wind as he straightened back up, turning away. "Come on." He looped his arm round her waist, steering her away.


His footsteps led him to his snowmobile. He got on and patted the seat behind him. "Hop on, doll. It's time to go for a ride." There were no helmets, partly because he was confident in his ability to drive the thing but mostly because there really was nothing to run into. The dead trees could easily be snapped by the vehicle, the landscape otherwise desolate. "I am not very sure where this lab is, but I can almost guarantee that we will be able to find it. Based on Flowered's range and the circumference surrounding the area in which it operates..." Then he went on and on and a little more on about all the mathematical processes which would determine where they had to look, finally remembering to actually start the snowmobile in the middle of his calculations. "Alright, hang on now." He placed her arms around him and they took off, quickly running over the country. The snow continued to fall out of the miserable sky, dancing around them while they went. No buildings were around, and the ones that were had been eaten away by destruction. It was a bit of a depressing scene. He could only hope that she wouldn't get her first glimpse of this world's humans.

She did as he instructed and followed his actions, eventually finding fun in it and she soon found herself giggling at the absurdity of it - she was in the snow, next to her creator, pushing the snow out of the way of her limbs. She got a hold of her giggles as he stood up, and she gave him a bright smile as he helped her up. She dusted her self off, brushing the grey snow off of her clothing and back onto the ground - not REALLY knowing hos dirty the vile stuff was....for Lutka this was all she had known - snow had never been white in her eyes, always grey. But for her it didn't stop it from being magnificent. Just like a child is entranced by pure white snow she is always entranced by the smoothness of the grey snow even if it is polluted - it was incredible how it covered everything and how delicately it fluttered down from the always grey sky. But that would make sense for her even if she had seen pure white snow that she woulds till like the grey snow better - she had a sense of humor but it was slightly dark sometimes while still retaining its innocence - she was capable of being brilliant, and she was, but she seemed to only know slightly strange things since she was "raised" around slightly strange things. everything about her was perfect...and just a little bit off. Just like the snow in her eyes, perfect, even though she was oblivious to its slight flaws.


She looked down at the 'snow angels' they made, studied them and noticed their differences. She smiled down at them as he told her they were nothing very special, just relics from the past - when he said that she couldn't help but see the irony - they were from his past, the same time he was from - yet these were 'unimportant'. Her smile wasn't necessarily bright or warm as she knelt down and touched her gloves fingers to the snow where his legs had been, admiring the snow angel he had made. No her smile was fairly neutral as if she was lost in some nostalgic thought...but she wouldn't tell him what she was thinking about the unimportance of the snow angels. She looked up at him, her eyes still filled with nostalgia as he called her away. She nodded, not bringing up the peculiar sound of his voice in that previous instance. Lulu got up and allowed him to lead her to the snow mobile, and again followed his instructions to get on behind him.


She listened to his calculations intently at first as if she would be tested on it later, but soon, when she realized they weren't that important, she just laid her head down on the side of his shoulder, still listening but more as if she was listening to music. She found his brilliance calming - when he spoke like that she knew she was in good hands, and that he was in his element - his head. Lulu obliged his hands and looped her slender arms covered in a coat around his waist,"Lead the way Doctor." She said in a contently happy tone of voice - any fears or jitters she had about this trip soothed away by his mathematical chatter.


As he drove she found her self fascinated by the snow as it rushed at her face as if they were riding a rocket into the stars, she found herself turning her head, her eyes following snow flurries to their side and them behind them, enjoying the strange architecture of the twisted, dead trees and how they looked with the snow twirling around them as she and Aiden raced by.