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posted Oct 27, 2012, 11:50 AM by Timo Liimatta   [ updated Oct 27, 2012, 11:51 AM ]
The following story was inspired by our first proper test play session. It wasn't published as a Steamfolk Tale article.


Vivian was walking behind her new owner Sir William Charleston III, who hurried after the leaving party of gentlemen.

”Wait a second”, the master cried to the men. ”There is one more thing. I would like to give you a new automaton of mine, she should be useful to you in your endeavors. Step up now, Vivian.”

Vivian stepped before of the party and beheld a rather curious group: a rather non-refined large automaton, a shaggy mechanic, and – oh dear heavens – a crocodile-man, who appeared to be a medical doctor. But when she laid her eyes on the gorgeous musketeer with his silky hair and face like a god, she felt a strange weakness in her feet that never quite occurred before. Even in her confused state she managed to recognise the royal family symbol in his coat, and determined he was the leader of the troupe. So, for reasons of both etiquette and her own, she bowed for the whole group, but kept her eyes intensely on the musketeer. She heard his name: Vincent de Schultz.

This was good.

The man itself showed surprising courtesy by inviting Vivian to ride with him on his horse, like he would have a human lady. She blushed when his arms came around her to hold the reins and they left for whatever destination they were headed.

It was de Schultz's hotel room. He told the party he had to change into something more suitable for their mission, and surprisingly enough, he took Vivian with him. And just like that, he began to change, like Vivian wasn't there at all. She was shocked. Didn't he just treat her like a lady, and now suddenly she was a machine?

Well, that shock only lasted a few seconds. As Vivian shamelessly watched the muscular hunk strip off his uniform, she was ever so glad that mr. De Schulz was ill-informed of a Doll's level of intelligence.


It so happened that Vincent de Schulz invited Vivian to spend the night in his room, since he had accepted her as his property. Vivian giggled to herself when she thought about it – nobody had actually given her specifically to Vincent, so much as to the whole group. It was Vivian who had planted the idea in his head, and everyone had simply acted accordingly. She was looking forward to the night, in a completely new way.

Things hadn't really been working out the way she'd hoped for. She had to charm some man they had been associated with, because the simple automaton had been ruining some plan of theirs, and she wanted to be helpful. Master Vincent, as she had come to call him, hadn't really paid any attention to her at all. He was merely being polite – she had dramatically misinterpreted his gentleman's gestures to be something more personal. He had been quite simply... indifferent.

Not that Vivian allowed that to let her down. In fact, it had only increased her interest in that chunk of man-shaped paradise. Vivian was used to being an object of men's desires, and to all kinds of ridiculous attempts on her, if she was mistaken for a woman. And even if not. Those few times that she had found a man desirable, she knew she was able to have him. Never had she lain with a man as an equal, though, but still, there was a kind of satisfaction in knowing they adored her. Master Vincent was completely different. He treated her like a machine, he had absolutely no interest in her in a physical way.

Such arrogance! Such self-security! Such... a challenge! Someone whose love she should fight for.

Vivian was now following Vincent to his room, and he started preparing for bed.

”You may stay on that chair tonight”, he told her, like it wasn't the preposterous suggestion it was. She agreed, smiling to herself. As soon as he would fall asleep, she would have the room alone. Master Vincent settled finally in the luxurious bed, and soon Vivian listened to his slow deep breath, and knew he was fast asleep.

Vivian was well aware that her ivory-colored dress was tainted with dust and mud. She opened the dresser and found, to her pleasant surprise, a charming lace tunic that was probably worn as nightgown by Vincent's lady friends, of whom there were likely many, by the looks of the clothing she found. She slowly stripped off her clothes, playing with the idea that Master Vincent would suddenly wake up and see her, and finally find her attractive. He would see the lacing in her back, the opening to her control panel, which resembled the lacing of a corset. Many men found it alluring in a dirty, alien way.

Vivian walked to the bathroom naked, with her dirty dress and the lace nightgown, lit the lamp on the wall and let some water to the bathtub. She spent something of a half an hour to wash the dress with soap meant for bathing. She took a towel and cleaned herself as well. She then put on the luxurious lace gown and hung the dress to dry near the window.

Now she was bored again.

She had a glimpse of Vincen't sword case and soon suddenly found herself holding the sword in her hands. She had practiced swordsplay with her former owner, and actually been good at it.

She gave it a swing. The sword moved smoothly and felt good in her hand. She swung it again. She imagined a moment, an intense game of swords with Vincent, ending with a fiery kiss in the orange and purple twilight. Before she even noticed, it was past midnight. She put the sword back in its case. She sat back down in the chair, swinging her feet to and fro and staring at the sleeping man in the bed.

She rose and slipped smoothly on the large bed next to Master Vincent, who now slept facing her. She closed her eyes and imagined she was a woman, his girlfriend perhaps. She became bold. She caressed his hair very softly, barely even touching him, but she felt the soft curl in her fingers. He made a noise, and she retreated. She would make him love her, somehow, no matter how long it took. She would be his, really his, not just temporarily in his posession.

He would be hers. She would have to be cunning, though. Seem innocent. Offer an intellectual challenge. Make him hate her, admire her, feel something towards her. And then, eventually, he would fall. Vivian the Doll would become... just Vivian.

Written by: Marianna Jantunen of the SteamJazz Crew