It of course broke his heart in a way, to see the monstrous fruit opened up for the metal he'd been given, and how perilous it looked to introduce the cutting and killing object to the orb of only life. Kedrick had always disagreed with using wealth to buy the novelty of ruining something beautiful, but he was not immune to the decadence, and the direct line such destruction had from his nature into his pleasure. So entranced was he that he only had the sense to twitch, extending his arms when it was too late to catch her, in the aftermath of her landing. His toes curled in the tide that had preceded her impact.<br/><br/>In the silence after the miraculous mayhem he had time to grow disappointed. How could this pretty thing live? Had it only been assembled from effects and silicone? Dead things are objects. He'd been promised more than art. So he waited, sword in hand, like he was going to free the creature from her last protective walls, and drag her to the offices of her manufacturers to complain. Take back your lie.<br/><br/>But she inhaled and expelled air inside that little world like any human would. He was ecstatic to see her live, and threw the blade to the side, finally. It landed in earth, and made no sound to affect the air. He had the patience to wait now, after the first parlor trick, until she fought for breath harder, and tested the reaches of her containment. He reached to help her, take that hand that was dressed in bubble surface, but it was undone and part of her before he could. It was quite a design, revealed,<br/><br/>He couldn't quite grasp what was happening in his adoration of this scene before it was too late. The delight he'd felt at something innocent brought to life, and the credit it gave to medicine and magic, was slowly being shadowed by his other impulses. Her skin, reflection in the sheen, moist and delicious, her softness beckoning, and her ridiculous, inspiring crown, lewdly protruding, built in natures materials and woman's skin. He thought a thousand things to subject her to, when recently he'd only wanted to protect her and marvel.<br/><br/>His heart hammer once when her eyelids opened and her monochromatic eyes underlined how apart she was. It only swelled his indecent plans and he tried not to think of them too hard. He was on his knees too, when she rose to hers. Without knowing why, he took her face in his hands. With that expression on her face, he might as well be the modern god people thought he was, with his coffers. She was perfectly pleasant in texture and temperature. At first like mother's shoulder, when she picked him out of a bath, and then as he had remembered coming in to hot towels after adventures during biting winter months. Yes, like she was saving him, today.<br/><br/>He would have shaken his head at her request - of course you must choose your own name - if he'd not already been fed the facts that she had come into life for him. Waking Dolls like her had already been debated in the legal halls. They had no rights other than a mare or a bull. It had been said they had even fewer claims, since their needs were tailored, and could not really be violated. Suffering was design.<br/><br/>His thumb hooked in a curl above her head, and the slick film and the smooth arch was quite addictive. How quaint. He moved closer, in the soup that had been her salvation, so that he could touch her shoulders and learn that she was not made like her antlers all over. The rest was deceptively perfect. The tips of his digits wandered her collarbones and his knuckles even rode down her sternum. He couldn't bring himself to weigh her breast yet, but realized it would only be a matter of time before he found the apathy for her modesty, or had the curiosity to humor the whim.<br/><br/>He lifted her arm and tried her fingers between his. Would there be prints to read, would there be a line of life in the center, or would it be superfluous and therefor overlooked, since her future was already written in her contract? Kedrick licked his lips and wondered if he had the room for long enough to test her insides with his acute exterior. He gasped at the sudden, wretched greed and shook his head. He held her to him instead, adding to the sludge on his jacket.<br/><br/>"You can pick your own name." he promised her, like it was repayment. She was a test to his soul, he was sure. And had he already failed by buying her? Even now he tried different scenarios in his head where he could conceivably have her. Therapy, they called it, but what was healthy about trying to hear her guttural, horrified sounds? His town house was so well proofed. What is the meaning of a fawn if you can't hunt it? Kedrick swallowed and tried to think of other things to do together, but all of it turned scrumptiously wicked.<br/><br/>He hurried to put the jacket around her. part of him was upset not to see her fully nude anymore. "What are you? Tell me what I should do with you now?" She wasn't some machine in need of installation, but there was ritual to every birth, and - probably more fitting - steps in every claiming. He couldn't think of any other way to put it than "What are the protocols?"