Luna's Library - Second Hand, Second Self

by Ponyess

Episode Two: 3

”I think I will continue. It may be a strange storey, but I also recognise some aspects of myself in her. Even if she is a mere girl, rather than a Powerful Alicorn!” I pondered as I looked at the book for a moment, after finishing the initial chapter.

I could not quite put a hoof on what it is I had enjoyed about the story. Maybe it is in recognising aspects of myself in the girl? She certainly had her share of frustrations in her life, just as I had had. Only now, I had overcome most of it, even if there may be more left unresolved. I still do have a struggle ahead of me.

She seems to be learning how to overcome her problems in her very own way. Maybe it could light my very own way down.

There are a few very strange differences between the two of us, and the worlds in which we are living as well. If only I could put a hoof on exactly what these differences were, aside from the obvious. She is a Human girl, while I am an Alicorn Pony of Equestria. From what I had seen, she is a commoner, while I am a Royal in power.

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Episode Two:

Once I had made my first actual doll, I was hooked. Since the materials at hand are limited to me, I was bound to make poor dolls. Can't make a very good doll, out of poor materials. Maybe some of the problem is in my skills too? Since I'm still not very good at this. Just because I could make a doll form; the doll can even move, in a dolls fashion.

At this point, I was too busy with my dolls to make contact with anyone, girls, boys, adults, or pets? Only then I got better, the dolls started to actually look like the doll I had hoped for, even if it's not in the colours I had in mind? Colours, that's not even what I had been caring about. This far, they are simply wooden dolls. I have an entire army of the dolls by now.

Then I started to colour the dolls, making them look like the little girls they were made to look like. That's when they started to be interesting. With that, I actually did play with the doll for about a week before creating the next, even if I was changing the colours of every doll several times.

When I had first seen a girl with a doll she was playing with, I had envied her. I knew it had been bought just for her. None had ever bought a doll for me. I had only what I had managed to create. First now I could see what the doll should be like. That's when I could finally get the doll real. Now I made the first doll out of skin tone plastic, like the one I had seen.

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Episode Three:

Since I'm alone, the plastic doll still feel cold and lifeless. It's not enough. What was I to do?

The other day I had seen a girl trashing her doll, as it had been broken. I picked it up, after she had left. Not that it was the most expensive and fancy doll, but it's at least a real doll. Looking closer, I had managed to examine what I had before me, in a way I had never been able to before. It's my first glimpse into how real dolls were made.

Now, I have something to look forwards towards. Once I'm back home, I had placed the doll on the floor, it's the way it works. A circle on the floor, still the way I had to do everything. Placing everything that had been the doll in the centre of my circle, then placing my hands on the border of the same circle. The next moment, the doll started to assemble itself, into its original form; the way it had been made to look, now looking as if it had never been trashed and thrown away. The way it had been looking, when it had left the production line.

Looking at it, I can see a decided improvement, compared with everything I had ever had, everything I had ever created for myself. There is no denying that. I don't, even if it feels sad for a moment, sad I had made the dolls in such poor images of what I had desired. It's all I could have done. I still desire them, all of them, even such as they are, in the poor image.

My love for my old dolls doesn't diminish my love for this one, first new doll. How could it. Neither would the next doll change anything between me, and my old dolls. There is no such relation.

I may be sad because I had made such poor dolls, but I'm also happy, I could improve the way I did the next. What improvements could I make, for the next doll, and the next once coming after?

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Episode Three:

Even the real doll, such as she is now; is but a doll, there is nothing to her, no spirit, and no life; I can't escape the fact. The more I can improve upon her, the more I realise, just this simple fact. There is nothing I can do about it.

Then it hit me, as I was in deep thought. I had been using the gloves for protecting my hands as I was doing the dishes. Something about that material just felt more alive. Maybe this was to make my dolls feel more alive, more like me?

With that, I had set a new motion going. I had put on a new, fresh pair of gloves on my hands. Looking closely at my hands, eagerly examining them, in every last detail. Maybe the gloves had felt a bit on the tight side of things, but it's what's required here and now. I want the gloves to get the feel of being me, a part of me, rather than a protective tool.

From analysis, I moved on, into making the changes to the doll. I had picked up the latest doll I had made, created, just a few days ago. Placing her on the table, chosen for this process. A full package of unused gloves, for the doll to sit on. Just for safety, keeping them close together.

I place my hands on the mark, on the spot of the table, focusing, concentrating on what I had in mind, focusing as hard as I could. Seeing, as I look at the doll, how the changes happened. Glove by glove dissolving, soon covering the doll, starting with hands and feet, then spreading inwards, towards the centre of her body, before moving up her head.

As the change had been concluded, I lift my hands off of the table, marking the conclusion of my work, the creation of the changes of this very latest doll. Watching, waiting, for but a moment, stretching out, into several minutes.

In anticipation, I then reach out, placing my hands on each side of the doll, feeling, what could almost be mistaken for human skin. Just almost; since she still is but a cold doll. Yet, it is at least not the dead plastic, I had been working with before.

Not only that, there is a slight hint of the muscles that should have been there, under her skin, had she been a living, breathing girl. I had made a decided improvement, she is more alive, then any of my previous dolls.

Maybe she isn't alive, but she is at least feeling as if the is warm, rather than cold and her body feels as if there are actual muscles underneath the rubbery skin. She may be but three inches tall, but she does give the feeling; she was a real girl, unless you wanted to doubt her?

With that; I can connect to her in ways, yet unimaginable.