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Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is fyrsta
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 5 with 3 vote(s)
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| Created: 2012-02-10 17:05:53 |
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Natural: that was the only word I could think to describe her with, and not this fake natural you see where people fake the wavy locks or wear a smidgen of makeup rather than the full blown clown face but it still feels so purposeful. This girl was utterly and completely naked.
Her face was heart shaped and her slightly less than full lips kind of chapped, but it didn’t bother her – you could tell from her smile that was subtly wide but still in proportion to her face. Her eyes were small but the way they looked when she was smiling – matched with deep dimples because of thick, round cheeks – looked seamless.
She didn’t wear anything to enrich or distract. Her eyelashes were dark for a natural blonde, suggesting that mascara was at work but it wasn’t. You could tell from the tone of them, the way you could count each one separately if you were close enough, and the fact that they were a sort of crooked and half straight, rather than purposefully curled. A couple of individual lashes even dared stick out in the wrong direction.
There was nothing special about the colour in her eyes: a neutral blue with hints, but not flecks, of green and grey, and if seen from across a table they were definitely plain. You couldn’t see wild emotion at play in them, or fall into a dream via those eyeballs but they didn’t have a problem staring. Her body language was closed but her eyes, those unwavering blue things that would looking into you for minutes on end while you stumble and fumble and look around the room and try all you could to find another thing to look at because she was making you uncomfortable. You would think it unnatural to anyone but her. It was a part of that girl, to stare, like her plain blueness was a part of her and her chapped lips were a part of her.
Even at this young age, her worry lines showed, meaning whenever she wasn’t smiling she had the vague look of suspicion about her that made you wonder if you had done something wrong. However her voice was trustful and reassuring, but with a nervous edge. She would catch herself fiddling with everything several times in a conversation – seriously, this girl would play with anything she could get her hands on, even if it were her hands. She’d twist the end of her scarf or cardigan around her fingers, spin any objects around on a flat surface if there was one, or even simply pick her nails without realising or bite her lip without reason. Couple this with the closed mannerisms and anxious undertones in her voice and she screams mental disorder. The way her stream of thought came out of her mouth showed she might not be ‘normal’ but it all felt natural.
Ah, that word again. She was natural, giving in to whims during conversation, trying to be kind and almost trying to be perfect - but perfectly herself, not anyone else’s idea of perfect. Despite this the girl was oddly transparent.
You could see she thought nothing of herself, felt other’s happiness should be put before her own when it wasn’t essential to her continued existence. But she was clever; you had to read between the lines to find these things, listen to what she wasn’t saying, home in on the way she held herself around the people she knew and didn’t know. It was like a call for help, a plea for attention but only for someone who was bright enough, worthy of her. It’s kind of like a paradox, the person who believes they are nothing special but demands only the best should acknowledge the genius she is purposely denying. But at the same time she knew she wasn’t going to find that person who was right. Her natural turned into innocent. Her closed turned into awkward. And it seems the old saying was right: believe in yourself and others will believe in you.
The plainest girl with the most interesting self and the most ridiculous demands. |
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