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.[Lessons of Embroidery].

From here on in records, in detail, the life and adventures of one little Ragdoll look-a-like. Thank you for reading!

Luckily for Tyr, he was much better at improvisation than he was at following directions. Even though all he was doing was sewing the foot and leg for the ragdoll, he found he had to start over at least four times. At the beginning of his little attempt, he vowed to follow the instructions so he could do it properly, and when the teenager found himself confused and lost, he also found he'd done it completely wrong, and had to start over. He tried the instruction way twice, thinking perhaps he was reading and interpreting it wrong; but as his luck had it, both times using the instructions failed. Growling mentally from being unable to do something, he'd declared war on this little project...and eventually decided to make this doll his own way.

Round one without instructions was also considered a failure, as he realized a little too late that he'd managed to sew the thing backwards; meaning he was doing it as if it would suddenly come out as finished, instead of sewing the nice side of fabric on the inside, so that the sewing lines would be nice and hidden on the inside once it was flipped inside out. After leaving the room and returning with some sandwiches for he and Andy to share (Serkan never ate), along with a couple of bottles of fruitopia, Tyr undid his latest failed attempt, and got himself right into Round two without instructions. Luckily for him, he'd remembered what had made round one fail, and began to sew the leg he'd been working on for over an hour now properly, with the finer side of material on the inside, as opposed to the outside. The teenager gave a whoop of victory as the leg was completed, and with a sense of pride backing him up, he went right after the remaining parts to this damned doll.

He'd completed the legs perfectly, followed shortly after by a perfectly done torso (in his opinion, anyway; Serkan would only be delighted to say otherwise). The one arm, however, caused him a bit of trouble, as he forgot to sew the nicer side on the inside for starters.

Luckily for him, he had all day to tinker with this project, as it were only Serkanda, himself, and Toki in the house. Where Pales, Armel, and the others went...well he had no clue. While Tyr had started in the late morning, early afternoon, it was rather dark out when he finally thought what he was doing actually started to look like a doll. Stretching and holding the doll out at arms length, he looked what he had already finished over. The stuffing was in it for the most part, it had its mop of red yarn hair...plus green buttons Andy had picked out for the eyes...and the two of them had even put together a ragtag dress for the doll; after all, Tyr had told Andy once, it was rude to run around naked.

Needless to say, Andy was very amused.

Setting the unfinished doll on his lap, Tyr arched his back like a cat, giving a pleased stretch.

Rotting. All it knew was that a moment ago it was quite content in it's shell of existence, happy to remain within it's shard for all of eternity, however long or short that would last. Yet now it was rotting, it could feel the external and internal forces withering away inside of it's very presence. It was exhausting to hold on to the lose grasp of life it held. All it wanted to do was give up.

Suddenly the rotting ceased, and there it was once more in it's shell, captive and silent.

But never quite the same.

No, never quite the same.

It had been weeks since Serkan had inflicted her presence on the shard, her mere closeness soaking into it's being. The reflection of a ragdoll gave it a chance to escape, but it never wanted escape until it knew the feeling of helpless rotting.

Every time it could feel Serkan near, it knew the feeling could return.

Escape was it's only chance.

The shard hadn't been thrown away, perhaps because Tyr had known it to be something special. It had been tucked away, but now that it had decided it's own fate, the shard itself rotted away. A sickening goo was left, which dripped down to the floor and hissed into smoke.

The smoke would fill the room, and whoever was in it would be blinded to the little girl who sat on the ooze-burnt floor.

One could only hope her fate would be better now that she had some control over it.

Now, it was Tyr's turn to smell smoke. He didn't have to follow his nose to know where it came from...anything violent or fatal like smoke and fire could only come from one of two places in this house; the Kitchen, or Serkan's room.

A quick glance ruled out the former.

As the raven haired teenager walked to Serkan and Kandajha's bedroom, he made a small stop to pick up the fire extinguisher, though there was nothing very urgent about his movements. This sort of thing happened a lot...and Serkan had yet to pull a huge fire stunt on them. So far, she'd only gone as far as to scare them with fixable events.

With a sigh, the teenager rounded the corner before taking the short hallway to the twin's bedroom, speaking even before he managed to get into the doorway.

"Okay Serkan, what did you do---" He stopped himself as he stepped through the doorway, his cobalt blue eyes wide with pure shock. "...now...?" He breathed out, his voice sounding as weak has his stomach was.

There, in the middle of the room, was his grotesque 'daughter', her empty, ever-bleeding eyes wide with what might have been stunned surprise...but her mouth caught in what was once a malicious, maniacle grin. Her claws were extended, deeply embedded into the chest of a red yarn-haired stranger. The stranger's eyes were wide, but rolling...barely grasping onto the life it had just acquired...and her mouth was open in a silent gape, only the occasional gasp of pain escaping her throat. Her hands, however...held the greatest surprise. She was holding what looked like a sewing needle the size of a walking stick...and that sewing needle was driven straight through the helion's stomach.

Though both girls were bleeding from their respective impalements, most of the blood seemed to be collecting on the red-headed stranger...and soaking into her? Slowly, the stranger's grip on the needle loosened, and it seemed like she was beginning to slip off of Serkan's long claws.

Tyr stood there for a moment or two, stunned into stillness. "An..." He started, dropping the fire extinguisher and rushing into the room this time, sliding onto his knees behind the stranger to catch her as she slid down. "ANDY!" He screamed out this time, cradling the bleeding stranger with one arm, while the other picked up the nearest shirt (which happened to be one of Andy's) to apply pressure to the wound.

The stranger gawked up at him with wide, colour inverted eyes. While she was gasping for breath, her expression held a hint of gratitude in it. This man...whoever he was...he was trying to save her! He was trying to save her from the pain that no longer faceless evil had caused. Considering her circumstances she was...happy.

Serkan on the other hand, staggered away from the group, forcing the long sewing needle out of her stomach to let it hit the ground with a sickening slap. The helion, though still bleeding, retreated from the room and went to take up refuge elsewhere on the property, to mend her wounds in private.

Tyr didn't register when Serkan left to when her angelic twin showed up. All he knew was that once the blonde boy made his appearance, the helion was nowhere to be found...not that he minded. He could always trail her blood to find her, after all. However, what mattered now was the well-being of the stranger...



The stranger who currently had her eyes closed peacefully.